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Me? Why, what a wild and crazy accusation! No no, it was that OTHER girl.
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((Victoria Logan, continued from Stay Frosty))

Oh God, oh God, what did she do? How could she have been so stupid, so completely and totally stupid? There was one way one way and one way only she would be able to stay alive on this island, and she blew it. No, not just blew it, took that one chance out behind a shed and shot it. She as good as took the gun to herself. All because she was too much of a fucking coward to stand by the one person she could count on.

She felt sick, gut punched. All she wanted to do was find someplace quiet to just curl up and disappear. She’d screwed up so absolutely, there was hardly anything else to do. God, she’d abandoned Alice. Alice, of all people! When Alice had needed her, she’d ran, ran away crying. Call it self-preservation, call it cowardice, call it whatever you wanted, but she’d still abandoned the woman she loved. Even if it would have meant her death, shouldn't she have stayed behind? Wouldn't it have been better to die with Alice then all alone? No need to answer, she already knew she was right.

Of course, that didn't make her go back. Even as each step away from the town square was leaden with guilt and regret, she kept going. Alice would want her to survive, right? Yeah, Alice wouldn't want her dying in bloody Mexican stand-off. Right? Her flight was...understandable. Excused, even. Right? Oh God, please let it be right. Don't let this all be for nothing.

She'd made it maybe a mile away before her body decided that it was done for now. Right in the middle of the street, Vic sank to her knees. Her chest was heaving, the tears flowing freely, the only thing on her mind was Alice and how she had betrayed her. It didn't matter that Alice wouldn't see it that way, that was was Vic had done. Alice trusted her, relied on her, believed in her, and Vic had in turn left her to die. That was lower then low, it was the worst thing she could have done. It didn't matter much if Alice wanted her to live, Vic deserved to die for that alone.

After a while, she lost any track of time she might have had. Not long after that, any recognition of her surroundings fell away too. A part of her hoped someone would happen along and put her out of her misery, but she couldn't be that lucky. It was impossible to tell how long she was crouching there, crying and cursing her cowardice. Chances were good that she would have remained there until someone did come along, at least until she caught the faint whisper of voices nearby.

Good. Bring 'em on. Let walk right over and put a bullet in the back of my fuckin' head. What the fuck else should I expect? Even considering that, Vic managed to climb to her feet on stiff and unsteady limbs. She left the bags lying in the street, because either way she wouldn't need them. Either whoever was inside would kill her or they wouldn't. Maybe they were good people? Maybe Alice had come back from the dead to give her a second chance?

Vic pushed the door open to the building she had thought the voices were coming from. Her hand found the revolver, Alices' revolver, holding it loosely at her side. Her eyes looked on the two figures at the top of the stairs, and everything fell into place. Well, recent events anyway. She saw the boy from before, Raidon, the one who fucked everything up, the asshole who fucked up the rendezvous plans,. the motherfucker who shot Alice. Whatever part of a person it was that decided to shoot some in cold blood, Vic tapped into it. Maybe he wasn't the one who killed Alice, but he damn well tried. That was enough.

Vic raised the gun, settling squarely on Raidon. She held it one-handed, like Clint Eastwood, like Dirty Harry, like every fucking gunslinger to grace the silver screen. He hadn't noticed her, so she might as well have had all the time in the world. She eased back the hammer, her finger settling on the trigger. At the last second, she decided that she couldn't watch, didn't want to watch. The bastard had shot Alice and she was going to shoot him in turn, but she still didn't want to see him die. Maybe she should have. She turned away, her finger jerked back on the trigger with all the finality and force she could muster. The gun barked, the barrel jumped, and the bullet missed.
B092 - Brennan, Etain---The Docks
G086 - Logan, Victoria---The Beach: East
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