Beatrice woke up that morning to the smell of coffee. She slowly sat up, pulled her silk robe on over her night shirt and sleep shorts and headed out into the living room, where she found Leslie standing in the kitchen, sizzling bacon on the stove, her hair in tangles from the previous nights escapades. Leslie was wearing a long sleeve button down shirt and nothing else, but it covered her perfectly. Bea walked up behind her and wrapped her arms around her tight, nuzzling the back of her head, kissing it gently, making Leslie blush.
"Gosh, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Leslie asked, and Bea shrugged.
"Well," Bea said, "You were pretty incredible last night, I guess I just like to show my appreciation for the effort."
"Oh, you're a supporter of the cause? I can accept that," Leslie said, grinning as she turned around. Bea pinned her against the counter, making her catch her breath, and leaned in, kissing her. Leslie happily kissed her back. These were the good mornings. The perfect mornings. The mornings Bea always dreamed of having, and now couldn't believe she was lucky enough to get. As she pushed herself against Leslie more, Leslie's hands trying to find space on the countertop to hold herself up so her knees didn't completely buckle, she accidentally hit the remote for the small TV they had in the kitchen, turning it on.
"Goodness," Leslie said, breathing hard after Bea finished frenching her, "what did I do to deserve such adoration?"
"...I'm just tired of not taking advantage of the good things in my life," Bea whispered, running a hand up to her face and cupping her cheek gently, looking in her eyes, "I'm tired of, you know, not feeling like I deserve them too. After losing my dog, my mom, I guess I just want to grab hold of those close to me and keep them here forever."
"I can accept that answer, and you're more than free to grab me," Leslie said, giggling as she hopped up onto the counter to sit, hitting the change channel button on the remote now, shoving it aside, as Bea put her hands on her hips and kept kissing her. As Bea made out with her neck, Leslie's eyes scanned over her shoulder to the television, and she got a concerned look on her face. After a moment, Bea stopped and looked as well.
"What is it?" Bea asked.
"I don't know, something on the news, they're pulling a body out of the water by Garvins Bridge," Leslie said, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up a bit, the newscasters voice now coming in clear midsentence.
"-certainly not foul play, and definitely a suicide, the police have reiterated repeatedly. A car was found parked on the bridge with a note in its windshield, indicating as such. The car, after having its registration run through the system, was found to belong to one Casey Kochawski. The police, now having retrieved the body from the lake, have in fact confirmed that it is Miss Kochawski, tying her to the vehicle. At the moment, none of her family, nor anyone else, has come forward with statements about the matter, but all signs point to Miss Kochawski have struggled with intense depression, and she appeared to have a history of drug abuse. More on-"
Leslie switched the TV back off, and looked at Beatrice, who was standing deathly still, staring at the now blank screen in front of them. Leslie didn't know what to do, Bea seemed to be in a trance. After a minute or so, Bea slowly dropped to her knees on the kitchen floor, then laid down on her side, wrapped her arms around herself...
...and screamed as loud as possible.
***
"You have a visitor," a woman said to Liam as he sat at his desk. He looked up to spot a woman entering, struggling to walk a little. She looked relatively young, around Michelle's age, maybe a bit older. She stopped and looked at him, appearing nervous. Liam just smiled politely and leaned back in his chair.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm looking for Michelle Helm, I'm Justine Hench. Is...is she here? I know this is her place of business."
"Michelle has not come in yet, no," Liam said, "...can I ask what this is regarding?"
Justine pulled the chair opposite Liam out and slowly seated herself in it, groaning as she did, likely from her injuries. After a few minutes, Justine finally gathered herself, mentally, and exhaled, looking back up at Liam.
"Okay, um," Justine said, "it's about Casey. She came to my home the other day while I was entertaining guests, and she...she was...clearly having some kind of psychological breakdown. I offered to meet with her after that, but she ran off, drove away, I haven't heard from her since. I've texted, I've called, I've e-mailed, but not avail. I just...I need to get in touch with someone who knows her who can maybe fill me in on what's going on because, at this point, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing."
Liam's heart broke. He had already heard. He'd heard on the radio on the way in that morning. He swallowed and leaned forward, cupping his hands on the desk.
"Uh," he said, "fuck. Um. You'll have to apologize, I'm...I'm not used to having to break this kind of news to people, and I'm not doing so well myself health wise, so please forgive me but...you haven't...heard anything? Seen anything on the news?"
Justine, now afraid, slowly shook her head, her fingers tugging at the hem of her skirt.
"...Casey jumped off a bridge last night," Liam said, struggling to get the words out without breaking into tears himself, "uh...the...the cops pulled her out of the lake this morning, a few hours ago actually, and it's been on the news since then. I'm honestly surprised you somehow hadn't heard anything yet."
A quiet filled the room. The kind of quiet that's somehow deafening it's so loud. The kind of quiet one only hears on certain occasions, when presented with the worst news possible.
"...Casey...what?" Justine asked, now starting to cry herself.
"Yeah," Liam whispered, looking down at his desk now, feeling his tears rolling off his face and onto the wooden finish, "uh yeah...her folks aren't going to be of any help, or care, so I have to go and identify her, just for the sake of it, at some point today once she's been processed into the morgue. I'm sorry to have to be the one to break this to you, I never like-"
"She can't be dead," Justine replied in a broken, hushed tone, "no she...she can't. She was...she was JUST on my porch. She can't have...in that time span, she can't..."
Justine knew all too well though the seven stages of grief. Having survived a near-death experience herself, she knew she was just speedrunning them now. Justine finally cracked and started openly weeping, burying her face in her hands. Liam groaned as he did his best to stand up, head back to where his secretary was and ask for some coffee and pastries, before grabbing a box of tissues and shutting the door to his office. He wouldn't be taking any other meetings today.
***
Michelle had found Eliza in outright hysterics. She'd gone out to get them breakfast, and when she got back...
...Eliza was lying fully clothed in the bathtub, full of water, screaming at the top of her lungs. Michelle quickly dropped everything in the kitchen before rushing into the bathroom to find this sight, completely befuddled at what she was witnessing. She dropped to her knees by the bathtub and grabbed Eliza's hand, holding it, just letting her finish getting her emotions out. After a bit, after Eliza had calmed down, she rolled her head towards Michelle, her eyes bright red from the tears, big dark circles underneath.
"What is going on?" Michelle asked, "what...what caused this? Are you okay?"
Eliza just stared. All the death. All the death surrounding her. First Liam's diagnosis, of which she couldn't even tell anyone about, and now Casey. She simply couldn't handle it, she was losing her grip.
"Don't leave me," Eliza whispered, her voice shaky and scared.
"Never!" Michelle said, leaning in and kissing her on the forehead, "why do you...when...why would I ever leave you?"
"I don't even mean just leaving, I mean...don't die," Eliza said, "you almost died, and you almost died before I told you I loved you, and...and please don't die, ever. Ever. Please."
"Okay, I promise, I'll find a way to be immortal," Michelle replied, the both of them laughing weakly at this, before adding, "but you...you have to talk to me, what's happening? Did something happen? Did somebody hurt you?"
"Somebody hurt all of us," Eliza mumbled, "Casey is dead."
This hit Michelle like a brick to the face. She was not prepared for that. She fell back onto her ass, still holding Eliza's hand. The last time she'd seen Casey had been at that audition, where she'd flipped out at her and Bea. She told Casey she'd have her removed if she couldn't behave. Fucking fuck. Fuck. What the hell had she been thinking. She'd acted in a professional manner, not her usual comforting one, and now...now it'd cost Casey her life, all because she simply hadn't listened.
"...she begged not to be an afterthought," Michelle said, sniffling, "the last time I saw her, she was SO upset, and she begged me and Bea for her to, just once, be somebody's first choice for something. I should've listened. I was never my mothers first choice, I know what that does to a person. I should've listened. I killed her."
"No!" Eliza said, rolling onto her side in the water filled tub, "no you didn't, don't think that! If I didn't kill my mom then you didn't kill Casey, okay? Just cause...just cause we have bad last conversations with people before they croak doesn't mean we're responsible for their deaths, right? That's what everyone has always told me, so you need to believe it too."
Michelle looked back at Eliza, and in that moment, in that very moment, she realized something. She never, no matter what, wanted to let this girl go. Michelle reached out and took Eliza's face in her hands and pressed her lips to Eliza's, kissing her for a good minute or so. After it broke, Michelle rested her forehead on Eliza's, the both of them crying.
"...if I can't leave, you can't either, okay?" Michelle asked, and Eliza nodded eagerly; Michelle then, after a deep breath, added, "...if...if all we can do is keep living, then...then I wanna do it together."
"Me too," Eliza whispered, kissing her again.
Death has a funny way of making people realize what they really want.
***
"The thing about death," Liam said, "is nobody and nothing can properly prepare you for it, whether it's happening to you or to somene else. You're never ever ready for it. I've got...I don't know...weeks left maybe? You wouldn't really be able to tell, looking at me, because I'm putting up a good front, but every single day I'm so weak, so tired. But I'm not scared. That's the one saving grace I have for my own sake of mind. Casey didn't seem scared either."
"How are you NOT scared?" Justine asked, biting into a donut hole, sipping her coffee, "god, I remember being on that plane, heading for the ground, knowing that could very well be it, expecting that to very well be it, and I was terrified. I'm shocked I didn't shit my pants."
"...people have always assumed that Beatrice writes the show. But we mostly do it together, and I've written a lot of it myself. It's...it's like this child we have together. Or, a thing that took the place of where a child would be, since we don't have one. My whole life, I...I've been living lies. Creating personas for myself. Telling stories. That's what I do. I can't cope with reality, neither can Bea, so we tell stories to help placate our eternal sense of unease. Death is just...another story. It's the next chapter. The final installment. If anything, I'm excited to see it."
Justine couldn't help but smile, albeit weakly, at this sentiment. Liam was a remarkably well adjusted person. She shook her head and looked back down at her lap, resting her coffee mug in it between her palms.
"...losing my boyfriend, I used to think, was the worst thing that could happen to me," she said, "but this might be worse. Casey and I were working on so many little projects, we were creative partners. I'd never had that before. We just got one another. She was so talented. She was...my friend. I hope she knows she was my friend."
This statement pushed her to start crying again.
"I feel so fucking selfish," Justine continued, trying to speak between sobs, "if I'd just talked to her, if I'd just...put in a tiny bit of effort that one day...fuck."
Liam stood up and walked past her to a filing cabinet, retrieving something from there and then plopping it onto the desk between them before taking his seat once more. Justine, after recomposing herself, looked at the folder, then up at Liam, raising an eyebrow.
"What's that?" she asked.
"That," Liam said, putting his feet up on his desk best he could with some effort, pointing at the folder, "is something Casey gave me. She wanted me to help her with something, and, as a result, she gave me this. Gave it to me to find a way to get it organized, published. It's something she'd been working on for a good portion of her life. I've read through it, it's shockingly grim and beautiful, feels autobiographical in nature. I am putting this in your hands. You work in literature. You're the one who needs to make this happen."
Justine slowly reached out and took the folder, opening it, reading through Casey's notebook, her sketches, her concepts. She nodded slowly. Liam was right. She had to get this out there. She had to do this for Casey. It was the only way she would feel like she didn't completely let her down. Justine shut the folder and looked back up at Liam, biting her lip, chewing, thinking.
"...so you're excited?" Justine asked, and Liam grinned.
"I'm THRILLED," he said.
***
Beatrice was laying on the couch, her head in Leslie's lap as she ran her fingers through Bea's hair. Bea hadn't said a thing since screaming her lungs out and calming down. Now she just stared ahead in dead silence. The TV in the living room was on, on some show about antiques, but the sound was off. The lights were off in the apartment. When Bea got overwhelmed, Leslie knew it was her duty to remove all the sensory issues to help her ease back down. Bea exhaled and shut her eyes, gripping the bottom of Lesle's shirt.
"I put myself first," Bea said, "I put myself first, and look what happened. Michelle told me she wasn't my responsibility, and now she's gone."
"To be fair, she wasn't," Leslie said, "you can't save everybody without ruining yourself, babe. You need to recognize that. Michelle was right. It's understandable to feel guilty, or whatever, but this wasn't because of you. She was clearly struggling with so many other things."
"I'm never putting myself first again," Bea whispered, "that's a promise."
Leslie sighed. She knew that when Bea made promises, she NEVER broke them. Leslie just continued stroking her hair as Bea rolled onto her back and looked up at Leslie, who smiled down at her warmly.
"If you wanted to kill yourself, you'd tell me, right?" Bea asked.
"Of course!" Leslie said, "sweetheart, I would never do that to you, not without discussing it first. Trying to get help. But I'm also not about to judge those who need to just have a swift exit. Life isn't for everyone, and there's nothing wrong with acknowledging that. Some people...they just....aren't built for this, built for longevity. But I wouldn't do that, not to you."
Bea smiled weakly and nodded, rolling back onto her side.
"...I'm so mad at Michelle," Bea whispered.
Michelle, meanwhile, was still in the bathroom, laying on the floor beside the tub, still holding Eliza's hand. Neither one had said anything for a while, they were simply taking in the comfort of the silence that surrounded them. Michelle was thinking, anyway. Thinking about herself, her own near death experience. How Eliza had been at the hospital for her all that time, had always sought her out before and after that to get to know her, to get closer. Her thoughts turned to Justine. That woman survived a goddamned plane crash, and sure, she'd lost her boyfriend in the process, but she was here. They both had more in common than she'd initially thought. Michelle, then, turned her thoughts to Marvin. That's where this all started. Goddamned Marvin.
"Marvin killed himself, you know," Michelle said, "I mean you know that, I'm sure. But that's what kicked everything off. Marvin killed himself. Marvin killed himself, and that got Keagan to start looking into the show, which got her in touch with me, which put us in touch with Liam, which led us to Bea, which then resulted in everything else. You and I are here, together, today...because Marvin killed himself."
Eliza rolled her head towards Michelle and sniffled.
"Why are you saying this?" Eliza asked.
"Because...because good things can come from tragedy. Casey didn't have to die, but she also doesn't have to die for nothing. Marvin's suicide created a new throughline for my life. Maybe Casey's can do the same. It can be another fresh start."
Michelle and Eliza stared at one another and Michelle smiled.
"...do you wanna marry me?" Michelle asked, and Eliza's eyes widened in shock, before eagerly nodding, making Michelle laugh as she scooted up closer and kissed her.
As Liam had explained...death isn't the end, but a new beginning.
"Gosh, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Leslie asked, and Bea shrugged.
"Well," Bea said, "You were pretty incredible last night, I guess I just like to show my appreciation for the effort."
"Oh, you're a supporter of the cause? I can accept that," Leslie said, grinning as she turned around. Bea pinned her against the counter, making her catch her breath, and leaned in, kissing her. Leslie happily kissed her back. These were the good mornings. The perfect mornings. The mornings Bea always dreamed of having, and now couldn't believe she was lucky enough to get. As she pushed herself against Leslie more, Leslie's hands trying to find space on the countertop to hold herself up so her knees didn't completely buckle, she accidentally hit the remote for the small TV they had in the kitchen, turning it on.
"Goodness," Leslie said, breathing hard after Bea finished frenching her, "what did I do to deserve such adoration?"
"...I'm just tired of not taking advantage of the good things in my life," Bea whispered, running a hand up to her face and cupping her cheek gently, looking in her eyes, "I'm tired of, you know, not feeling like I deserve them too. After losing my dog, my mom, I guess I just want to grab hold of those close to me and keep them here forever."
"I can accept that answer, and you're more than free to grab me," Leslie said, giggling as she hopped up onto the counter to sit, hitting the change channel button on the remote now, shoving it aside, as Bea put her hands on her hips and kept kissing her. As Bea made out with her neck, Leslie's eyes scanned over her shoulder to the television, and she got a concerned look on her face. After a moment, Bea stopped and looked as well.
"What is it?" Bea asked.
"I don't know, something on the news, they're pulling a body out of the water by Garvins Bridge," Leslie said, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up a bit, the newscasters voice now coming in clear midsentence.
"-certainly not foul play, and definitely a suicide, the police have reiterated repeatedly. A car was found parked on the bridge with a note in its windshield, indicating as such. The car, after having its registration run through the system, was found to belong to one Casey Kochawski. The police, now having retrieved the body from the lake, have in fact confirmed that it is Miss Kochawski, tying her to the vehicle. At the moment, none of her family, nor anyone else, has come forward with statements about the matter, but all signs point to Miss Kochawski have struggled with intense depression, and she appeared to have a history of drug abuse. More on-"
Leslie switched the TV back off, and looked at Beatrice, who was standing deathly still, staring at the now blank screen in front of them. Leslie didn't know what to do, Bea seemed to be in a trance. After a minute or so, Bea slowly dropped to her knees on the kitchen floor, then laid down on her side, wrapped her arms around herself...
...and screamed as loud as possible.
***
"You have a visitor," a woman said to Liam as he sat at his desk. He looked up to spot a woman entering, struggling to walk a little. She looked relatively young, around Michelle's age, maybe a bit older. She stopped and looked at him, appearing nervous. Liam just smiled politely and leaned back in his chair.
"Can I help you?" he asked.
"I'm looking for Michelle Helm, I'm Justine Hench. Is...is she here? I know this is her place of business."
"Michelle has not come in yet, no," Liam said, "...can I ask what this is regarding?"
Justine pulled the chair opposite Liam out and slowly seated herself in it, groaning as she did, likely from her injuries. After a few minutes, Justine finally gathered herself, mentally, and exhaled, looking back up at Liam.
"Okay, um," Justine said, "it's about Casey. She came to my home the other day while I was entertaining guests, and she...she was...clearly having some kind of psychological breakdown. I offered to meet with her after that, but she ran off, drove away, I haven't heard from her since. I've texted, I've called, I've e-mailed, but not avail. I just...I need to get in touch with someone who knows her who can maybe fill me in on what's going on because, at this point, I'm genuinely concerned for her wellbeing."
Liam's heart broke. He had already heard. He'd heard on the radio on the way in that morning. He swallowed and leaned forward, cupping his hands on the desk.
"Uh," he said, "fuck. Um. You'll have to apologize, I'm...I'm not used to having to break this kind of news to people, and I'm not doing so well myself health wise, so please forgive me but...you haven't...heard anything? Seen anything on the news?"
Justine, now afraid, slowly shook her head, her fingers tugging at the hem of her skirt.
"...Casey jumped off a bridge last night," Liam said, struggling to get the words out without breaking into tears himself, "uh...the...the cops pulled her out of the lake this morning, a few hours ago actually, and it's been on the news since then. I'm honestly surprised you somehow hadn't heard anything yet."
A quiet filled the room. The kind of quiet that's somehow deafening it's so loud. The kind of quiet one only hears on certain occasions, when presented with the worst news possible.
"...Casey...what?" Justine asked, now starting to cry herself.
"Yeah," Liam whispered, looking down at his desk now, feeling his tears rolling off his face and onto the wooden finish, "uh yeah...her folks aren't going to be of any help, or care, so I have to go and identify her, just for the sake of it, at some point today once she's been processed into the morgue. I'm sorry to have to be the one to break this to you, I never like-"
"She can't be dead," Justine replied in a broken, hushed tone, "no she...she can't. She was...she was JUST on my porch. She can't have...in that time span, she can't..."
Justine knew all too well though the seven stages of grief. Having survived a near-death experience herself, she knew she was just speedrunning them now. Justine finally cracked and started openly weeping, burying her face in her hands. Liam groaned as he did his best to stand up, head back to where his secretary was and ask for some coffee and pastries, before grabbing a box of tissues and shutting the door to his office. He wouldn't be taking any other meetings today.
***
Michelle had found Eliza in outright hysterics. She'd gone out to get them breakfast, and when she got back...
...Eliza was lying fully clothed in the bathtub, full of water, screaming at the top of her lungs. Michelle quickly dropped everything in the kitchen before rushing into the bathroom to find this sight, completely befuddled at what she was witnessing. She dropped to her knees by the bathtub and grabbed Eliza's hand, holding it, just letting her finish getting her emotions out. After a bit, after Eliza had calmed down, she rolled her head towards Michelle, her eyes bright red from the tears, big dark circles underneath.
"What is going on?" Michelle asked, "what...what caused this? Are you okay?"
Eliza just stared. All the death. All the death surrounding her. First Liam's diagnosis, of which she couldn't even tell anyone about, and now Casey. She simply couldn't handle it, she was losing her grip.
"Don't leave me," Eliza whispered, her voice shaky and scared.
"Never!" Michelle said, leaning in and kissing her on the forehead, "why do you...when...why would I ever leave you?"
"I don't even mean just leaving, I mean...don't die," Eliza said, "you almost died, and you almost died before I told you I loved you, and...and please don't die, ever. Ever. Please."
"Okay, I promise, I'll find a way to be immortal," Michelle replied, the both of them laughing weakly at this, before adding, "but you...you have to talk to me, what's happening? Did something happen? Did somebody hurt you?"
"Somebody hurt all of us," Eliza mumbled, "Casey is dead."
This hit Michelle like a brick to the face. She was not prepared for that. She fell back onto her ass, still holding Eliza's hand. The last time she'd seen Casey had been at that audition, where she'd flipped out at her and Bea. She told Casey she'd have her removed if she couldn't behave. Fucking fuck. Fuck. What the hell had she been thinking. She'd acted in a professional manner, not her usual comforting one, and now...now it'd cost Casey her life, all because she simply hadn't listened.
"...she begged not to be an afterthought," Michelle said, sniffling, "the last time I saw her, she was SO upset, and she begged me and Bea for her to, just once, be somebody's first choice for something. I should've listened. I was never my mothers first choice, I know what that does to a person. I should've listened. I killed her."
"No!" Eliza said, rolling onto her side in the water filled tub, "no you didn't, don't think that! If I didn't kill my mom then you didn't kill Casey, okay? Just cause...just cause we have bad last conversations with people before they croak doesn't mean we're responsible for their deaths, right? That's what everyone has always told me, so you need to believe it too."
Michelle looked back at Eliza, and in that moment, in that very moment, she realized something. She never, no matter what, wanted to let this girl go. Michelle reached out and took Eliza's face in her hands and pressed her lips to Eliza's, kissing her for a good minute or so. After it broke, Michelle rested her forehead on Eliza's, the both of them crying.
"...if I can't leave, you can't either, okay?" Michelle asked, and Eliza nodded eagerly; Michelle then, after a deep breath, added, "...if...if all we can do is keep living, then...then I wanna do it together."
"Me too," Eliza whispered, kissing her again.
Death has a funny way of making people realize what they really want.
***
"The thing about death," Liam said, "is nobody and nothing can properly prepare you for it, whether it's happening to you or to somene else. You're never ever ready for it. I've got...I don't know...weeks left maybe? You wouldn't really be able to tell, looking at me, because I'm putting up a good front, but every single day I'm so weak, so tired. But I'm not scared. That's the one saving grace I have for my own sake of mind. Casey didn't seem scared either."
"How are you NOT scared?" Justine asked, biting into a donut hole, sipping her coffee, "god, I remember being on that plane, heading for the ground, knowing that could very well be it, expecting that to very well be it, and I was terrified. I'm shocked I didn't shit my pants."
"...people have always assumed that Beatrice writes the show. But we mostly do it together, and I've written a lot of it myself. It's...it's like this child we have together. Or, a thing that took the place of where a child would be, since we don't have one. My whole life, I...I've been living lies. Creating personas for myself. Telling stories. That's what I do. I can't cope with reality, neither can Bea, so we tell stories to help placate our eternal sense of unease. Death is just...another story. It's the next chapter. The final installment. If anything, I'm excited to see it."
Justine couldn't help but smile, albeit weakly, at this sentiment. Liam was a remarkably well adjusted person. She shook her head and looked back down at her lap, resting her coffee mug in it between her palms.
"...losing my boyfriend, I used to think, was the worst thing that could happen to me," she said, "but this might be worse. Casey and I were working on so many little projects, we were creative partners. I'd never had that before. We just got one another. She was so talented. She was...my friend. I hope she knows she was my friend."
This statement pushed her to start crying again.
"I feel so fucking selfish," Justine continued, trying to speak between sobs, "if I'd just talked to her, if I'd just...put in a tiny bit of effort that one day...fuck."
Liam stood up and walked past her to a filing cabinet, retrieving something from there and then plopping it onto the desk between them before taking his seat once more. Justine, after recomposing herself, looked at the folder, then up at Liam, raising an eyebrow.
"What's that?" she asked.
"That," Liam said, putting his feet up on his desk best he could with some effort, pointing at the folder, "is something Casey gave me. She wanted me to help her with something, and, as a result, she gave me this. Gave it to me to find a way to get it organized, published. It's something she'd been working on for a good portion of her life. I've read through it, it's shockingly grim and beautiful, feels autobiographical in nature. I am putting this in your hands. You work in literature. You're the one who needs to make this happen."
Justine slowly reached out and took the folder, opening it, reading through Casey's notebook, her sketches, her concepts. She nodded slowly. Liam was right. She had to get this out there. She had to do this for Casey. It was the only way she would feel like she didn't completely let her down. Justine shut the folder and looked back up at Liam, biting her lip, chewing, thinking.
"...so you're excited?" Justine asked, and Liam grinned.
"I'm THRILLED," he said.
***
Beatrice was laying on the couch, her head in Leslie's lap as she ran her fingers through Bea's hair. Bea hadn't said a thing since screaming her lungs out and calming down. Now she just stared ahead in dead silence. The TV in the living room was on, on some show about antiques, but the sound was off. The lights were off in the apartment. When Bea got overwhelmed, Leslie knew it was her duty to remove all the sensory issues to help her ease back down. Bea exhaled and shut her eyes, gripping the bottom of Lesle's shirt.
"I put myself first," Bea said, "I put myself first, and look what happened. Michelle told me she wasn't my responsibility, and now she's gone."
"To be fair, she wasn't," Leslie said, "you can't save everybody without ruining yourself, babe. You need to recognize that. Michelle was right. It's understandable to feel guilty, or whatever, but this wasn't because of you. She was clearly struggling with so many other things."
"I'm never putting myself first again," Bea whispered, "that's a promise."
Leslie sighed. She knew that when Bea made promises, she NEVER broke them. Leslie just continued stroking her hair as Bea rolled onto her back and looked up at Leslie, who smiled down at her warmly.
"If you wanted to kill yourself, you'd tell me, right?" Bea asked.
"Of course!" Leslie said, "sweetheart, I would never do that to you, not without discussing it first. Trying to get help. But I'm also not about to judge those who need to just have a swift exit. Life isn't for everyone, and there's nothing wrong with acknowledging that. Some people...they just....aren't built for this, built for longevity. But I wouldn't do that, not to you."
Bea smiled weakly and nodded, rolling back onto her side.
"...I'm so mad at Michelle," Bea whispered.
Michelle, meanwhile, was still in the bathroom, laying on the floor beside the tub, still holding Eliza's hand. Neither one had said anything for a while, they were simply taking in the comfort of the silence that surrounded them. Michelle was thinking, anyway. Thinking about herself, her own near death experience. How Eliza had been at the hospital for her all that time, had always sought her out before and after that to get to know her, to get closer. Her thoughts turned to Justine. That woman survived a goddamned plane crash, and sure, she'd lost her boyfriend in the process, but she was here. They both had more in common than she'd initially thought. Michelle, then, turned her thoughts to Marvin. That's where this all started. Goddamned Marvin.
"Marvin killed himself, you know," Michelle said, "I mean you know that, I'm sure. But that's what kicked everything off. Marvin killed himself. Marvin killed himself, and that got Keagan to start looking into the show, which got her in touch with me, which put us in touch with Liam, which led us to Bea, which then resulted in everything else. You and I are here, together, today...because Marvin killed himself."
Eliza rolled her head towards Michelle and sniffled.
"Why are you saying this?" Eliza asked.
"Because...because good things can come from tragedy. Casey didn't have to die, but she also doesn't have to die for nothing. Marvin's suicide created a new throughline for my life. Maybe Casey's can do the same. It can be another fresh start."
Michelle and Eliza stared at one another and Michelle smiled.
"...do you wanna marry me?" Michelle asked, and Eliza's eyes widened in shock, before eagerly nodding, making Michelle laugh as she scooted up closer and kissed her.
As Liam had explained...death isn't the end, but a new beginning.