They slipped through a narrow gap and emerged into an alley bathed in dying daylight. An overturned crate lay nearby, its splintered boards jutting like broken teeth. Felicity swallowed hard, her thoughts circling the magic she had uncovered. She still did not understand it, only that when she raised her arms, her friends became stronger, faster, sharper. And that it took something from her every time.
Finch hefted the last of the bandages into his pack. "Back entrance. Follow me." He slipped through a battered service door without hesitation.
"Whatever you say, Captain Bear. Mister Bear. Finchy Bear," Felicity murmured under her breath, stifling a laugh.
She did not notice Finch's ears twitch.
He shot Rose a questioning look, one eyebrow arching. Rose only shrugged, lips quirking as if to say not my problem.
Inside, the pharmacy was a wasteland. Shelves lay overturned, glass crunching beneath their boots, fluorescent lights flickering overhead like dying fireflies. Mutated figures lurked among the wreckage, twisted into grotesque, zombie like shapes, jaws slack, eyes glowing with feral hunger.
Felicity let out a hollow laugh, fingers tightening around Rose's arm. "Well," she whispered, eyes darting between the approaching shadows, "I think we might be completely and utterly done for."
Her pulse thundered in her ears as she pressed her back to the cold wall, broom clutched in white knuckled hands. Finch's voice cut through the noise, low and steady.
"On my mark."
Rose's claws slid free with a soft, lethal sound. Felicity's chest warmed, pulsing in time with her racing heart.
"Mark."
She inhaled sharply and raised her trembling hands. Light sparked at her fingertips, soft at first, then blooming into golden arcs. She wrapped the energy around Rose, watching her muscles coil tight, claws gleaming as if honed by moonlight.
The rest she pushed toward Finch, sharpening his movements until every shift of weight and breath became precise, predatory. A thrill rushed through her. She did not feel as drained as before. Maybe she was learning. Maybe she was adapting. They lunged forward together.
Felicity stayed back.
When the last monster fell, silence crashed down around them, broken only by ragged breathing. Felicity stood amid shattered bottles and spilled boxes, broom heavy in her grip, her chest still glowing faintly from the effort.
They moved on through the ruins, sweat streaked and blood spattered. Finch led the way, vigilant as ever. At the edge of the city, concrete gave way to grass, the air cooler and cleaner near water.
Beneath pale moonlight, they found a stream, its banks alive with fireflies and watching eyes hidden in the brush. Rose dipped a clawed hand into the water, testing it, then motioned.
Felicity knelt by the stream. Clear water flowed through the remnants of the city, the contrast between nature and decay surreal. She splashed her face, sighing softly at the relief. Adrenaline still buzzed through her veins from the drugstore. Camp needed to be set before full dark.
She glanced down and caught her reflection in the water. She blinked. Not a scratch. Not a smudge. Somehow, she looked like she had stepped out of a salon instead of the end of the world. Hollywood disaster movies have been lying to us all along, she thought faintly.
She gathered supplies while Finch organized their haul nearby, muttering to himself about distribution and priorities. The weight of their situation pressed down on her chest. She focused on arranging what little they had and clearing a small space for a fire pit.
When she bent to reach for more wood, dizziness slammed into her without warning.
The world tilted. Her vision blurred. Panic surged as her knees buckled. "Uh oh."
Darkness swallowed her whole. Victor had been searching for Finch for hours, unease coiling tighter with every passing minute. Separation was never ideal, but in this city it was dangerous. The longer Finch stayed out of sight, the more Victor's instincts screamed that something was wrong.
The silence gnawed at him. As he moved through the broken remains of the city, boots crunching over glass and bone, a sound cut through the noise. A dull thud. Then nothing. Victor turned sharply toward the stream.
He saw the moment her body gave out.
Without hesitation, he broke into a sprint and caught her before she hit the dirt. The impact knocked the breath from his chest anyway. She was lighter than expected, warm against him, her weight fitting too easily into his arms. Honey blonde hair spilled over his forearm, catching in the moonlight. Her face was soft in unconsciousness, lashes dark against her cheeks.
Something in his chest twisted hard enough to hurt. There was no time to examine it.
"What the hell?" Finch shouted, rushing toward them. "You can't just"
Victor snapped his head up, eyes blazing. "Don't touch her."
The words came out as a growl.
Finch skidded to a stop, hands lifting reflexively. "I was trying to help."
Victor barely heard him. His attention was locked on the woman in his arms.
Her breathing was shallow but steady. Too warm. Too still. His grip tightened, instinct overriding thought as he shifted her closer to his chest.
He had carried wounded soldiers. Dying civilians. Friends who never made it out.
This was different.
He had never been someone who attached easily. He had trained himself not to. But something about her presence punched straight through every wall he had built. A pull, sharp and immediate, like his body had made a decision before his mind caught up.
"Get her friend," Victor ordered, voice low and absolute. "I need a woman here. Now."
Finch hesitated just long enough to register the tone, then nodded and took off.
Victor lowered himself carefully to the ground, never letting Felicity's head dip unsupported. One broad hand cradled the back of her skull, thumb brushing instinctively over soft fur at the base of her ear.
Her fennec ears lay flat, unresponsive. His jaw tightened. Against his will, something settled into place inside him. Possession was too strong a word. Protection wasn't strong enough.
Rose arrived at a near run, feline ears pitched forward, eyes sharp and assessing. She dropped to her knees beside them, gaze flicking from Felicity's limp form to Victor's face. "What happened?" she demanded. "And who are you?"
"She collapsed," Victor said shortly.
He adjusted Felicity again without thinking, shifting her so her weight rested more securely against him. His hand remained at the back of her head, fingers tangled lightly in her hair.
Rose noticed. Her eyes narrowed.
She pressed her palm gently to Felicity's forehead. Her expression darkened immediately. "She's burning up. Exhaustion. Dehydration. Or something worse."
Victor tensed at the contact, muscles locking, but he forced himself to stay still. This wasn't about him.
"There was medicine at the pharmacy," he said. "Antibiotics. Get them. Now."
"You don't even know what's wrong with her," Finch argued as he returned, hovering nearby.
"You can't just"
Victor's head snapped up. Red eyes flashed. "I said get the antibiotics. Move."
They moved. Victor had spent years under harsh lights and worse conditions. Hospitals. Field tents. War zones. Keeping bodies alive when they wanted nothing more than to fail. The world ending hadn't erased those instincts.
When Finch returned with the bottle, Victor's chest tightened painfully. Felicity hadn't stirred.
"I got them," Finch said, breathless, handing it over.
Victor took it, hands steady despite the storm roaring inside him.
He uncapped the bottle and poured a careful amount into his palm, the liquid glinting faintly in the moonlight.
"She needs to swallow it," he said. "Tilt her head gently."
He shifted Felicity closer, supporting her shoulders and neck with practiced care. He paused, looking down at her face.
Fragile.
Trusting.
Too important.
"Come on, Felicity," he murmured, voice softer than he remembered it ever being. "Stay with us."
He tipped her head just enough, letting the medicine touch her lips. A small amount slipped past. He watched her throat intently, breath held. Please wake up. Please be all right.
"She's not staying here," Victor said suddenly, without looking up.
Rose's head snapped toward him. "Excuse me?"
Victor finally met her gaze. "Finch and I are Snow Team. We're regrouping at base. Safe walls. Supplies. Medics. She's coming with us."
Rose's tail lashed sharply. "You don't get to decide that."
Victor's grip tightened imperceptibly. "Yes. I do."
Finch shifted uncomfortably. "Victor"
Rose rose slowly to her feet, eyes cold and assessing, every inch of her radiating suspicion.
"And what makes you think I'd let her go anywhere without me?"
Victor held her gaze for a long moment.
"I wouldn't," he said. "You're coming too."
Rose studied him like prey that hadn't decided whether to bite or flee.
"…I don't trust you," she said flatly.
Victor looked back down at Felicity, thumb brushing lightly against her cheek as if he couldn't stop himself.
"That's fine," he replied. "I do."