i'll carry you home.


Darkness is not really gone when Ian stretches his arm and find the empty space.

He jolts awake, head spinning as his weary eyes search for the person that he knows doesn't even there. His body screams from the sudden movement, and half from the yearning that Wanda is not there.

First thing he realizes, he is running.

The plaza is empty. He knows everyone is still sleeping somewhere in the game room. But he is sure she is not there. He considers Jamie's room, but shake that idea entirely. In the despair, his feet lead him to the southern wing.

Doc's light is dim. He knows his brother is in there, waiting for Jodi. But he hears someone else's voice. And suddenly, he doesn't know what to do.

He walks slowly, the adrenaline leaving his body and all he wants to do is curl up in bed. No. Not now. He prefers sleeping with Wanda. And he knows—he doesn't know how he knows—that Wanda is there.

Ian recognizes his brother silhouette. Kyle is not seeing Jodi, instead he is looking away, at the cot across the room. He knows right there something is very wrong.

His eyes gaze to where the dim light casts shadows. Someone sits beside the occupied cot. The other slumps on the floor in the dark, between the table not so far away. He hears it first. Soft whisperings. Encouraging words flow from Jared mouth. To the girl on the cot. Ian doesn't need more light to know her shape.

"Wanda?"

Wanda stares at her silently. No, not Wanda. It's Melanie's eyes that meet him, calculating, no more that silver circles he loves so much around them. Jared stops whispering, his eyes meet him. In the corner of his eye, Kyle stands, but not entirely move as his hand still holding Jodi's. Doc's unconscious state fades. He is the one who approaches him, muttering something Ian doesn't seem to care.

"...her choice, Ian. I tried to make her see the reason..."

What is Doc doing just now? Reasoning with him? He doesn't hear a word. Doesn't need to. Doesn't care. This is too much for him to comprehend.

"Wanda."

His voice demanding, eyeing her body. It's Melanie now, right? He searches the answer in Jared. Their eyes meet in silent conversations. Jared knew. He knew this was happening. How dare he...?

"Wanda."

"Ian," Jared whispers, unable to hide the subtle happiness in his eyes. How dare he. "Sit down, please, and we will talk."

Talk? He really wants to talk to him now?

"...too late," his voice hoarse. Too late to make him understand. Wanda's—Melanie's—body doesn't move. But it's not her body he needs. He needs her soul.

"Where's... Where's my Wanda?"

Doc mutters something. Melanie is looking at him, still silent. Ian meets her gaze, his heart shatters from the contact. She frowns.

"She's here."

Doc gestures him to Melanie. And slowly, she unfolds her hands, lifting the cryotank from her lap. Ian hesitates for a moment. Is that...? He takes it, warm in his hands.

"She wants to be buried alongside Walt and Wes. It's her condition and last will to me. I'm... I'm so sorry, Ian."

Every muscle in his body betrays him, the world seems to shift beneath his feet. He finds himself sink to his knees, Wanda still in his grip, cradle safely against his chest. Her precious soul. He starts sobbing painfully, doesn't entirely care about four pairs of eyes that look at him with pity.

How could she... how could she leave him like this?

"She's still there, Ian," Melanie speaks first. It hurts to hear her voice. Hurts to feel the longing. "I can't let her die."

It takes more than a second for him to figure out Melanie's words.

Wanda.

He opens the cryotank shakily, tears streaming like a river. Inside, he is greeted by her soul. Glimmering silver, she beats out the lights in the room, still moving, breathing. Ian laughs between the tears, fascinated. Wanda is so, so fragile and so beautiful. Not about her body. It is her mind, her soul, her acts of kindness that makes her wonderful. He falls for her over again.

I love you. I love you, Wanderer. You hear me? Stay here. Stay with me.

Then, he makes up his mind. As selfish as it seems, he doesn't need a second thought.

"Last will or no, I won't bury her."

Their faces grim. Even Kyle holds his tongue. "Neither will we," Jared finally admits.

He holds Melanie's gaze, challenging. "I want to keep her myself."

She sighs, "I know. I want to tell you that this morning. We will find a way. I know we will."

Ian nods. Wanda has to forgive him that he is—they are—still fighting, greedy enough to break her final will. She has to, now that Ian will make sure to find a way to be with her as long as possible in this broken world.

He will make sure Wanda has no other choice but going back to him.


The Host and its characters belong to Stephenie Meyer. Title and summary from Augustana's Sweet and Low lyrics.