Re: AFTERMATH-Lydia/Mitchell
He never would have admitted it, especially to her, but there had been a part of Mitchell that had wanted to beg Lydia to stay away from the fight, to stay safely away and not be near all this death and chaos, because just sometimes it was so painfully obvious to him how human she really was.
But to think of her as fragile was a mistake. Lydia was one of the strongest people he had ever met, and no moment showed it more than right then, wrapped in his arms with her crossbow strapped to her back, looking tired but defiant. Strong enough to stand in a battle and hold her own with the archers, even ones like Robin Hood. And Mitchell was just so fucking proud of her.
When she kissed him, he kissed her back. He hadn't fed, hadn't indulged in the flowing blood all around him. Some of it had splashed on his face, stained his lips, but he hadn't lost all control. He'd been tempted, oh so very tempted, even licked a hint of it from his lip, but had resisted the urge to tear into everyone around him and drink his fill.
"We're alive and we're still here," he echoed her words back at her. "And I love you too." They were still there, but others weren't. And Mitchell still didn't know what that all meant, and he felt that strange combination of intense relief that he and Lydia were alright, with the grief of maybe losing others. Even Hal. Harry. Whatever. He took a deep breath, one that was even slightly shuddering, feeling almost like he might cry a bit himself. "We're going to be okay, we are. We're still here, we can handle anything."