Archive of Our Own ^beta

Her wings are tired. Flutter notices it only idly, as she soars through the air. Everything aches.

She's not surprised, though. She figured it would happen. You see, she's not a very good extractor; the gossamer of her wings is too silky to properly grip the valve, and kicking it only makes too much noise and not much progress.

So Flutter flies. She swoops and soars and dips between what were once familiar faces, ignoring their gnashing teeth and clawed fingers. She ignores the heavy stench of blood and gore and rot. She ignores that she could die at any moment.

Yes, Flutter ignores everything - everything except protecting her.

Poppy's mangled fingers flash bony white as she nearly snags the distractor's wings, but she avoids them easily, flying through. She just has to hold on a little longer, for this floor; she's counted five tolls of the large overhead bell, and they should have six.

There it is. Poppy runs faster, but so does Flutter. She burst into the elevator in a flurry of speed, and comes face to face with the gachapon.

Gigi looks tired, but she's grinning. There's blood smeared in a crack on her head - one that she'd gotten before Flutter had stepped in and torn what was once Cosmo away with an airhorn.

"Hey, good job out there!" she cheers, throwing an arm around Flutter's waist and nearly tugging her out of the air. "Man, you're so fast! I want to fly like that too!"

The butterfly dreams of it. She wants arms so desperately; wants to hold Gigi's hand and soar far into the distance, away from twisteds and ichor and the red glare in Dandy's eyes. She wants to make sure they can never be touched again, up in the blue sky of Gardenview.

But Flutter doesn't have arms. She doesn't have biceps, or elbows, or wrists; she doesn't have fingers to clutch, fingers to hold, fingers to keep. All Flutter has is her unstoppable wings and an ache that she will never be able to express.

All Flutter has is the ability to run.

Run she does. Gigi lets go right when the doors open, and Flutter zooms out in front of Tisha, who squeaks in surprise as the butterfly gets in the way of maws and eyes and blood. Shelly's crooked, gaping mouth drools pools of blood onto the floor, and Flutter nimbly sidesteps them in favor of running far, far away.

There - perfect. A small, non-crowded area. She can distract there.

Machine after machine, floor after floor, Flutter runs. She pretends it brings her joy, pretends she's content, pretends she's useful.

But, most importantly, Flutter pretends everything's okay.

She's not sure how Goob did it, before he died. How he could run for minutes on end, his heavy hands dragging behind him but his heart light. He'd taken it the hardest when Gardenview fell to pieces - after all, Scraps had died to the collapse.

And Scraps killed him, too. Brusha had been stupid, walking where she wasn't supposed to, and Goob died protecting her. Flutter would've stared in dismay at the paint brush if she wasn't already so visibly sick with herself.

Right now, Flutter could relate. To Goob, not Brusha - the need to run, not particularly away, but the need to use up all of the nervous energy that made her legs twitch whenever a twisted got too near.

Once, Finn's teeth had snapped at her feet. It was the worst moment of her life; glass grinded against skin and bit through muscle. She couldn't even scream. Couldn't squeak, couldn't beg for help or for forgiveness or for mercy.

She remembers Bassie pulling her aside with a small frown and a band in hand, gently guiding it around Flutter's foot and wrapping it tight. She remembers the searing, agonizing pain that never ceased or ended, not even with the gentle touch of the flower basket. Nothing stopped except, she could hope, her heart.

Even then, it was small. She didn't really want to die. All she wanted was for the pain to end.

But then Gigi found her in the elevator, sore and tired, and she swallowed back the bile that wouldn't stop building in her throat. Flutter would, for her, live another day.

She would live because Gigi's life depended on it.

And Gigi had to live, because Flutter's life depended on her.

…She suddenly didn't want to think about this anymore, because it gave her the idea of Gigi dying, and Flutter couldn't stomach that. Just the very concept was enough to make her heart thump in her palms and make her vision swim red.

Flutter was scared, after all. And fear was her new state of life.

Floor after floor.

Movement after movement.

Hit after hit.

Bandaids and medkits start to pile up over her skin, wounds wrapped tightly but still seeping blood over gossamer. Someday, she knows, will come the unlucky hit; they'll grab and tear at her wings instead of her body, and she will fall to the ground, and they will eat her alive until she is one of them and never herself again.

It wasn't the loss of her own life that scared her, she supposes, as she narrowly avoids Shelly's teeth latching onto her leg. She can see Tisha crying in the corner, her hand latched over her mouth to muffle her sobs - but inky tears still drip down her face.

It wasn't death that she wanted to avoid.

Because Flutter didn't really care for life anymore. In fact, she would go so far as to say she was sick of it.

It was, quite simply, that she couldn't imagine a world in which everything went black and never again could she see Gigi's face.

The thought was a bit sickening. If she died, she knew others would follow. First Tisha; the sweet maid would run until her legs gave out if it gave the others more time. And then Brusha, who would innevitably get caught and was too slow to run properly when she helped others, the artist she was.

She knew Gigi, her resourceful girl, would be last alive. She knew the gachapon would have to face death alone. The thought scared her beyond anything.

And so she runs more.

Running doesn't always fix everything, though.

Floor 30 is when everything goes to hell. Pebble's face peeks over the counters of Sprout's room as the lights flicker and then go out.

Flutter's heart seizes up in her chest.

This is it. This is her final night alive. She knows it has to be.

Sharp, gleaming teeth seem to flash in every dark corner as Flutter goes on her hunt, flying like a madman as she dips and divots around corners. Once, Astro's claws manage to grab her wing, and she lets a single tear drip down her face.

She circles for as long as she can, but every nick gets her more and more exhausted. Everything she does is never enough; Pebble is too fast and Astro is tiring, the dog's feet pounding against the floor as the sleepy toon drags behind.

Flutter is terrified to lose them, but she's terrified to die.

She catches Gigi's eye, only once, when she passes by a specific counter. The woman looks sick, her eyes wide and teary as she stares over her shoulder, nearly missing the jerky tell of a skillcheck.

There's something in the other's eyes that Flutter can't read, but she doesn't have much time to ruminate on it as she flies faster, more desperately.

Pebble is just too fast, she mourns, and nothing she does seems to get him to get away from her heels. Every hot breath he pants out fans over her skin and makes her cringe.

Flutter is afraid. Flutter is tired. Flutter thinks she is going to die.

So when the air goes away, she doesn't question it. When the teeth scraping her wings dip back, she doesn't look. Flutter doesn't do much of anything other than thank god.

But then she does look back.

Nothing's there.

Her heart seizes in her chest as she freezes, nearly dropping out of the air. Where did he go? Oh god, what if Gigi was hurt? It would be her fault, after all - she was too weak to handle them.

She searches and searches and searches. Agonizing minutes go by. She's scared to turn every corner in fear of meeting glowing red eyes, but nothing is there every time.

When she finds them, Gigi's eyes are bright. She can see gold flashing in the other's hands - bright, vivid, twirling in the air. Flutter tries to swing out; she tries to divot between the dog and the gachapon, but he refuses to leave. Frustration builds until something wet streams down her cheeks.

Tears, perhaps, or maybe blood. Flutter isn't really sure anymore.

Please, she begs, wings twitching and aching and sore as she flies. Please, if there's a god out there, let me save her.

The elevator door opens. Gigi's coin flips into the air.

Her beloved's body is mangled to the point of no recognition, flayed skin and muscle beneath Pebble's teeth, but Flutter cries so hard she isn't sure she'd be able to see anyways.

The next floor, someone tears her apart. She isn't sure who.

She's just so tired.

And she swears that, when she closes her eyes for the final time, she sees Gigi.