The screeches of the creatures, the frantic sounds of battle, the screams of pain—it was all gone. In its place, only a thick, unnatural quiet filled the air, as though the world had pressed pause.
Laura sat on the cold, hard floor, her legs trembling beneath her. She hadn't even realized how much she was shaking until now, until the battle had ended, leaving her with nothing but the stark reality of everything that had just happened.
The others were unconscious, sprawled on the floor like discarded rag dolls. Greg and Mike, both bloodied but alive, breathed shallowly, their bodies relaxed in the stillness, but their faces were tight with exhaustion. Jared lay a few feet away, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths, the blood from his side staining his shirt. He wasn't dead—he hadn't died—but in this moment, Laura wasn't sure what felt worse: the physical toll the battle had taken or the weight of the guilt that was crushing her chest.
She stared at the men before her, her hands clutched tightly in her lap, eyes flickering from one to the other. Her heart hurt for them—for Greg, who had wielded unimaginable power to protect them all, and for Mike, who had risked everything to save them in the last moments. Even Jared, with his quiet strength, had done his best despite the wounds that marred his body.
They had fought so hard, had all given so much, and yet, here she was, unable to shake the feeling of inadequacy that gnawed at her.
Her hands were still trembling as she gently attempted to press them against Jared's wound, but to her shock, the wound had disappeared.
She blinked, her fingers hovering above his skin, now unmarked, smooth, and whole. She had been certain—no, positive—that the injury was deep, the blood soaking through his shirt not moments ago. But now, there was nothing.
Allowing her mind to wonder , Laura's eyes dropped to the jagged piece of rebar she had dropped after the battle ended. It lay abandoned on the floor like a reminder of her own shortcomings. She had tried to hold her ground, to make a difference. But how many times had she swung that makeshift weapon and missed? How many times had she hesitated in the face of an attack, afraid she wouldn't be able to stop it in time? She couldn't help but wonder—could she have done more? Could she have fought harder, been braver, more resourceful?
She couldn't help but feel... useless.
Her thoughts drifted back to the battle, to the fear that had clawed at her chest. At the height of the fight, when the creatures had closed in on her, she had felt it—the fear, the overwhelming sense of helplessness. She wasn't fast enough. She wasn't strong enough. She could barely hold her ground, let alone protect anyone else.
Her eyes burned, and she blinked hard, willing back the sting of tears. No. She couldn't afford to break down—not now. Not when they still needed her.
She reached down, her hands trembling as she checked Greg's pulse, relieved when she felt the steady rhythm beneath her fingertips. She had to focus, had to keep her composure. They would wake up soon. She had to be ready.
But as she glanced at Mike, his body still flickering from the strain of his newfound abilities, a pang of frustration twisted in her gut. Mike. He'd always been the quiet one, never one for much attention. Yet, there he was, saving them all in the end. Where had that power come from? Why hadn't she had something like that?
Greg's energy, his strength, his power—it was overwhelming. She had watched him in battle, muscles straining, his every movement fueled by something that went beyond human limits. There was no denying that Greg had always had a presence, a fire that made people look up to him. But now, that fire had turned into something almost godlike. He had the power to fight off the monsters and protect them, even when it seemed like the odds were stacked against him. It was the kind of power that demanded respect, that could change the course of everything.
And then Jared...
Jared, who had been moments away from death just hours ago, now lay there, his body completely healed. No scars, no sign of the brutality he'd endured. It was as if the universe had taken back all the destruction it had dealt to him, leaving him whole. She had seen the blood, felt the fear in her chest when she thought he might slip away forever. But now, somehow, he was fine. She couldn't wrap her mind around it. How? How was that possible?
First it was Xander , and now it seemed everyone was becoming stronger accept her.
Where was her power?
She had no special abilities, no skills beyond what she had been able to learn in the heat of these endless battles. She was just… human. Just one person, standing in the shadow of the ones who had saved them all.
The silence in the room felt even heavier now, her thoughts pressing down on her like a vice. It wasn't fair. Why did they have to carry the weight of the world while she stood by, so often powerless?
Jared shifted slightly, groaning as he tried to move, his face contorting in pain. Laura was instantly at his side, her hand on his shoulder to steady him, her voice soft but firm.
"Jared, you're okay," she whispered, though she wasn't entirely sure she believed it herself. His eyes fluttered open, his face pale, but his smile—weak as it was—made her heart tighten with guilt.
"I know," he rasped, trying to sit up but wincing as his hand went to his side. "I'm fine."
He wasn't fine. Not really. He was alive, yes. But the blood, the pain, the exhaustion—it was written all over him.
Laura bit her lip, guilt welling up again. She could see the strain on his face, the way he fought just to breathe, and yet, he was the one reassuring her.
"Rest," she murmured, helping him lie back down. "You're safe now."
Jared's eyes flickered between the two unconscious bodies near him. Greg and Mike. Neither of them stirred, but it was clear they had taken a heavy toll during the battle. She didn't know how long they would stay out, but for now, she couldn't let herself collapse, not when they were all relying on her, even if she didn't feel like she had any more to give.
Her gaze shifted back to the two of them. They had protected her. They had saved her.
But she had failed them. Failed to protect them, to fight like they had.
"I don't know how to do this," she muttered, almost to herself.
She felt it—the crushing realization that no matter how hard she tried, she would never measure up to the strength and courage of those around her. The strength of Greg, who had pushed beyond his limits, the speed of Mike, who had moved like a blur, and Jared's bizarre constitution, not to mention Xander who seemed to be even a level above those 3.
She was just… ordinary.
Just someone trying to survive.
They hadn't died yet, but the battle wasn't over. Not for any of them.
She would keep moving. She would tend to them, make sure they were okay. She had to. But deep down, she knew—she had to find a way to be more. To do more. If she wanted to keep up with them, to deserve their sacrifices, she had to find strength she didn't know she had.
And right now, she had no idea where to begin.