The Arrow in Your Heart

[Laurels]

Dale forgot the one rule about playing a villain: don't get so into the villainy that you lose focus on what you are supposed to be doing. Him making Rebecca's last moments of life awful for her was like Orin forgetting to take the laughing gas mask off, and now Dale's nose was fucked up because of Rebecca's headbutt.

Dale's head knocked back, causing him to cry out and lose his grip on the bandanna chain. He quickly reached to grab it, although Rebecca had now gotten a little bit away from him. He managed to grab it, prepared to pull Rebecca back to him so he could finish her off.

And that's when he heard the loud banging sound. There was a searing pain from Dale's throat, causing him to spurt blood from his mouth. He fell back, pulling Rebecca with him as two more bangs followed. Dale, who was now gargling blood and finding it hard to breathe, finally let go of the chain and fell backwards. Unfortunately for him, he was back at the edge of the rocketboat, so he fell over and back into the ocean.

Dale couldn't even scream. The hole in his throat and the enveloping nature of the ocean deafened him. He stared up at the black surface above him as he began to sink into the sea.

He was so foolish. It was one thing to think he could go through this game keeping his reputation, body, and mind in tact, but if he hadn't lost his cool, he would have been on dry land, alive and closer to achieving his dreams. But instead, he was sinking deeper and deeper into the ocean.

Dale closed his eyes, finding it harder to keep them open underwater. What was there to see anyways? He was already in pitch darkness, and that was where he was going to stay.

Dale's last moments were thinking about how little he was going to matter thanks to this. He could forget about Little Shop and Invitacion al amor or any of the other roles of his future. He could forget about even being a standout from this season. He was a sad, miserable mess who angry-sang Alanis, had an embarrassing panic attack, and screwed up the one time he tried to take an active role in this show. He wasn't even going to be buried. He would be lost to the ocean, and his one memorial would stand over an empty casket at a Miami cemetery. A fitting symbol for the boy who ended up being nothing in the end.

Dale couldn't be sure, but he felt like he could feel tears forming in his eyes underwater. Before Dale lost consciousness for good, he had one final thought:

They're all going to forget me.

CK06 Dale Hawthorne: Deceased

[Aster]

The world exploded around her.

The boy pulled her backwards, and more pain reverberated throughout her body as her back hit the railings and she collapsed on the ground. The flashlight slipped through her fingers and rolled off, but Rebecca didn’t care. She was free from her bindings, and judging by the distant splash behind her, her assailant was out of the picture.

And most importantly, she could breathe again.

Rebecca took a gulp of air, but coughed and sputtered as it got caught in her throat. At first she was confused, up until she tasted iron dribbling from her mouth.

Oh.

Oh shit.

[Slam]

What? No! That wasn’t supposed to happen!

Junji could only watch as the blood poured from Rebecca’s mouth. From where he stood, he could easily see in that moment that bullets number two and three had not embedded themselves in Dale, but rather in his hostage. The person he was trying to save.

He had shot someone, maybe the first person besides Stokes since this all started, that he had wanted to help.

His teeth clenched as the gun wavered in his hand, as his beating heart froze in his chest. His vision of how the scene should have unfolded, Mary and Leah dead in front of him and Rebecca his new ally, shattered into a million pieces.

He..could he save her? There was no time to think about that, because Leah and Mary were still both there. That’s right, there was only two bullets left in the gun. He still had the knife though, he could still cut them to pieces. He could still save Rebecca.

But he didn’t – he didn’t know how to save her. He’d shot her. She was absolutely fucked.

Junji raised the gun again, pointing it at Leah. But it might as well have been a deformed lump of metal, because he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. His arm shook, his legs trembled. His brain was moving too fast to stop and think about how easily he could end this scenario. How easily he could at least have a chance to say something to Rebecca.

He knew the words, but he hadn’t used them in so long. He didn’t think he could any more.

He had backed off without even realising it, using the gun more as a fending stick than what it was really for, what he’d been so excited to use it for. He realised he had an out. He took it. Step by step, eyes flicking between Leah and Mary, he retreated, leaving Rebecca to her own fate.

((Junji Yamada continued in Performance Concerns))

[KamiKaze]

Mary had sat up, clutching her oar close to her. Junji had directed his attention elsewhere, towards the shambling shapes.

Then, he fired again.

Her ears rung. Somewhere in the fog, the noise, she saw Dale fall back down into the water, and then--

Junji ran for it. Rebecca was on the ground, and with the other girl seemingly unharmed. Mary sucked in a breath. She was having enough of guns already. So loud. She couldn’t think.

Slowly, Mary lifted herself to her feet. Held her oar close. She’d dropped her flashlight in the commotion, too, so she picked it back up with her free hand.

Then, with a shaking free hand she pointed the flashlight.

She almost dropped it again when she saw the blood leaking out of Rebecca’s mouth.

[Yonagoda]

She didn’t even notice that the two were shot- the first thing that came to her mind was the pull of Dale’s body falling off the ship, bringing Rebecca down with him and dragging Leah forward. The first thought was “Oh, Rebecca attacked him again.”

The second thought was her registering the loud bangs as gunshots.

Leah took a step back, putting Rebecca in between her and Junji. Expected him to at least help the teammate that he shot, but he didn't, he just ran away, so-

So she dropped Rebecca.

And she took a deep breath.

Rebecca would die, one way or another, and she didn’t want her to be this sad sight gasping in her own blood, still suffering.

There wasn’t anything she could do right now that she could call merciful, wasn’t there?

Leah looked up. At Mary. At Dale, floating in the water. And she looked at the trail of blood and she knew, she knew. Dale was gone. And she couldn’t help him, because he was probably beyond help, and she would be nothing but a hindrance to Mary, and…

Only one thing to do.

She looked at Rebecca’s form, sad and bloody and still blinking.

And she looked at the arrow in her hand.

“I’m sorry.”

She was. She really was sorry, in that way where it felt a little condescending but she was at least sorry in some form. Sorry that Rebecca had to be here, sad that she had to do what she had to do. Sad that they were just two girls, both wounded and battered, who couldn’t do anything to save themselves in a way that mattered.

The empty palm of her’s reached out and gripped one of Rebecca’s hands. Her thumb ran across a vein, rubbing little circles because she couldn't find anything good to say. She squeezed, gently this time, as an reassurance, with only a drop of intent to subdue and keep her still.

She saw corpses. She saw somebody dying. But never this.

Never took responsibility for a death.

The coup de grace was about to happen no matter how hard she thought, though. All of it would happen no matter what.

And that’s the thing that made her want to cry, really.

The fact that they didn’t even have a chance to mourn.

She was shaking right down to the moment the metal in her hand caved into Rebecca’s skull. Once, twice, and a third time just to make sure.

Then, there was stillness as skull fragments and brain matter and blood smeared into her clothes, on her skin, everywhere-

It was so much messier than she expected.

Leah hoped it was quick enough.

She dropped to her knees and threw the… the murder weapon down at the ground. The weapon that she used to stab Rebecca to death.




''M-mary,'' She called. ''Can you please use the oar to, to, um, fish out- fish out Dale, please? Just… bring him closer?''

Then, she bent over and vomited besides the corpse, into the ocean.

[Aster]

A light shone in her face. Someone else knelt down, speaking, clasping her hand in theirs. Rebecca looked up at the girl with glassy eyes, barely registering who she was. She stayed silent—any pleading or cursing would just bubble out of her mouth as blood. She was already losing so much, pooling beneath her and soaking into her shirt. Countless people had survived gunshot wounds on SOTF, but none of them had had bled this much.

She knew she was done for.

Thoughts swarmed her mind in her last moments of consciousness, as the girl raised something over her head. Most of them were wishes: she wished that she’d dove out of the way faster, that she’d bashed Orin’s skull in when she had the chance, that she’d chosen to go anywhere but the RocketBoat. Above all, though, Rebecca wished she could wake up on the fishing trawler again, with those other girls.

She'd do better next time. She promised.

BC06, REBECCA ROBERTS: DECEASED

[KamiKaze]

Mary stared at Rebecca’s broken form, still bleeding out onto the deck. She couldn’t help but remember that they were talking about Little Shop of Horrors just a few minutes ago. Just a few minutes ago, Dale and Rebecca were alive, able to think, act, judge. Over the course of a few minutes, it happened, and now Dale was in the sea, and Rebecca on the deck.

Her body shook as she lifted herself up. She saw Leah-- the other girl-- hang her body over the edge, the sound of vomiting echoing in the air. It echoed in her own body, too. Her stomach felt off, and she could feel bile fighting its way up.

Then, she snapped back to reality.

“Right…” she said.

She went to where she thought she saw Dale fall. She shone her flashlight at the water. She didn’t notice anything, other than myriad chunks of vomit. It took a few beats for her to notice anything. But she saw an odd shape. Fabric?

Mary slid her oar into the water, trying to hook it, bring it closer. But it was too light. She pulled it out, and saw it draped across the oar. Seaweed.

She slammed the oar into the water, tried again. She continued moving the oar through the water, seeing if she could see anything more. Tried again. Tried again. Again.

Then, she gave the water another smack.

“He’s gone.”

Another smack, louder this time. Her body shook even harder. Her jaw tightened.

“He’s gone!”

[Yonagoda]

Oh god.

Her fingers gripped the edge of the boat.

Oh god, she was a murderer. She was a murderer when she could’ve saved Dale like she could’ve saved Mateo and she didn’t, she didn’t, because she was horrible, and she was the absolute fucking worst and there’s no way that she could ever sleep after this, no way she’d ever be the same and know peace, she’s killed someone and she’s a murderer and she’ll always be a murderer.

Please.

Dear god.

“He’s just gone?''

“Jewel, I want- I want to fucking die.”

…

“I don't know what to do yet.”

…

“Mary, can I just… I just… I need to be alone but I also need a hug, can you please…”

''Mary, I-''

She pushed herself up back on her feet.

''Mom, Dad, I…''

She puked into the water again.

''I'm sorry.''

She couldn't see Mary's expression in the dark, between what felt like the tears.

Does it get easier?

[MurderWeasel]

The voice from Leah's collar is sympathetic, slow and soothing.

"Leah. I know that things feel tremendous right now. Unchangeable. But remember that what you want can shift.

"It doesn't have to ever be alright again.

"But if you want, it can be."

[KamiKaze]

Mary was not good at comforting people.

Like, at all.

The thing about comforting people is that you have to know what works. It can be hit-and-miss. Maybe they want something to eat. Maybe they just want to talk. Maybe they just want to be left alone to their thoughts. Maybe they want you to say that one thing, that one thing that you’re supposed to say, that Mary would never guess.

But she silently opened up her own bag, and pulled out a water bottle. As she reached to hand it to Leah, she noticed her hands were shaking.

“Here. Might help to wash it out.”

The echo of nausea in her body, the echo of a past memory, a conversation she had with Jewel herself not too long again, the echo of everything that just happened, staining her memory and aching across her body.

It was quiet. She wanted to cry. She didn’t let herself cry.

“Do you want to leave here? We can, uh, talk.”

[Yonagoda]

There wasn't a response.

...

Eventually, her mouth opened again, opening the bottle with trembling fingers.

"Thank you."

...

"I don't think-" cough- "I don't think I'll ever be-" cough- "Be alright."

"So,"

...

"I- I yeah. I want to leave."

Sorry about that.

"Um, but- but I don't- I don't want to just leave her."

Her, referring to the corpse by her side, that she was gesturing to with a single glance and the lightest tilt of her shoulders.

"I... I don't know if it even matters, having a-"

A funeral?

"A funeral in here, but- but it's the least I can do, I-"

She cut herself off.

[MurderWeasel]

The voice is quieter now, but there's a confidence to it.

"Whether it matters or not, that's up to you.

"If it matters to you, then it matters."

[KamiKaze]

Mary tilted her head to the side, then closed her eyes as Jewel spoke up again. Opened them again.

“Right. I can go with that.”

Dale was someone she knew. That was obvious, but she did have respect for the guy. He was going places if he wasn’t cast. And her? She was stuck doing ensemble. Dale would have probably gone on to do all sorts of things, live life, find someone, be someone.

And Rebecca? She honestly didn’t know her as well, but, well, they watched her die. Were responsible for her death.

“Right…” she repeated.

A pause. A breath.

“How do you want to start?”

[Yonagoda]

"Dunno-" cough "-I guess..."

Maybe Rebecca didn't want a funeral. Maybe Giselle didn't want a funeral.

Maybe she was just imposing her own ideals onto the dead, and god, she hated that.

"Wipe the blood away?"

[MurderWeasel]

This time when the voice speaks, there's just a little less certainty behind it.

"Oh, one more thing before I'm out of time:

"Leah, Mary, I'm pulling for you. I don't mean as your mentor or whatever. Just... I'm on your side, okay? I want you to know that."