Page 22 of Battle of Hearts

Sawyer woke to the sterile scent of antiseptic and the soft beeping of machines. The room was quiet save for the rhythmic pulse of the monitors. Her gaze immediately landed on the bed, where Mirren lay, still and pale under the harsh, fluorescent light.

Mirren looked so much smaller there, vulnerable in a way that felt wrong. Sawyer knew better. Mirren was anything but fragile.

Sawyer moved closer, pulling a chair beside the bed. She sat down, folding her hands in her lap, her eyes never leaving Mirren’s face. She hated the helplessness that gnawed at her. After everything they’d been through—the storm, the outpost, the freezing cold—it had come down to this. They had survived, but it felt as if the battle wasn’t over.

A faint stir came from the bed. Mirren’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze unfocused at first. When she shifted slightly, wincing from the soreness that still lingered, her eyes finally found Sawyer.

A small, tired smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You’re here.”

Sawyer’s heart squeezed at the sound of her voice, raspy and weak. “Of course, I am.” She leaned forward, her voice gentle but firm. “How do you feel?”

Mirren’s throat worked, but her voice barely came out. “Water,” she whispered.

Sawyer quickly poured her a cup from the bedside table, handing it to her carefully. Their fingers brushed as she passed it over, the warmth of Mirren’s touch sending a familiar surge through her chest. She watched as Mirren drank slowly, her movements deliberate, as if she was trying to piece together everything that had happened. The storm. The endless cold. The days of survival. And now, the quiet safety of the recovery room.

When Mirren set the cup down, her gaze found Sawyer’s, something unspoken flickering between them.

“Mirren—” Sawyer began, but her name was all she needed to say. The rest didn’t require words.

Mirren’s eyes softened, the guarded demeanor she always carried slipping away. “We could’ve died out there,” she whispered, her voice tight with the weight of what they’d faced. “We almost did.”

Sawyer reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “But we didn’t.”

The space between them filled with everything unsaid, the quiet now charged with emotions they could no longer push away. There was no storm now to hide behind, no cold wind to mask the reality of what had been building between them from the start.

Mirren’s hand trembled in Sawyer’s. “What happens now?”

Sawyer held her gaze, her voice steady but soft. “I don’t know,” she admitted, feeling the vulnerability in her own words. “But I don’t want to face it without you.”

The honesty hung between them, raw and exposed. For once, Sawyer didn’t feel the need to hide behind duty or responsibility.She needed Mirren to know—to understand that whatever came next, whether it was new missions, new dangers, or something completely unknown, she wanted her by her side.

Mirren’s breath hitched, her lips parting slightly. Then, without hesitation, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to Sawyer’s. The warmth of the contact melted the cold that had gripped Sawyer’s heart for so long.

“We’ll figure it out,” Mirren whispered, her voice steadier now.

Sawyer tilted her head, brushing her lips against Mirren’s in a gentle kiss. It wasn’t the frantic, desperate kind they’d shared in the outpost driven by fear and uncertainty. This was different—softer, full of promise. The kind of kiss that said they had time. Time to heal, to grow, to figure out the future together.

When they pulled away, Mirren smiled, the warmth in her eyes making Sawyer’s chest ache in the best way possible.

“Together,” Mirren said softly.

Sawyer nodded, squeezing her hand. “Together.”

10

MIRREN

The snow had finally given way to the familiar hum of the base. The thick layer of frost that had caked the windows was now just a thin veil, the light from the early evening stars spilling through, casting a silver hue on the surrounding wilderness.

Inside the base, Mirren leaned against the doorframe of her quarters, her gaze momentarily fixated on the sight of the last remnants of the storm fading into the distance. She watched the snow that once brutally blinded them now fall more delicately. It felt surreal to be back, to feel warmth seeping into her bones after what felt like days of nothing but cold, dread, and the sharp pull of survival. How odd, she couldn’t help but think, that merely the day before she’d been on the verge of death, fearful she’d lose her life out in the raging storm, and now here she was having survived those horrors.

All thanks toher. No matter how much Sawyer tried to argue, Mirren knew, deep down, she couldn’t have done it without her.

She let out a breath, watching it curl in front of her lips before she turned to the hallway, spotting Sawyer down the corridor. The captain stood tall, as always, though there was a visibleweariness in her posture now, her once disciplined, rigid stance softened by exhaustion and relief.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and despite the warmth of the base, Mirren felt her chest tighten, her pulse quicken. They had survived.

Together.

---