3A/N: So, I rewatched the ending of Doomsday. It can still make tears appear.
She didn't know how long she stood on that beach. The cold wind whipping her hair about her face and the uneven rocks below her feet. She didn't know how to move, how to leave this place. The act of standing hurt and breathing was agony. She felt dead. Quite sure she was dead. How could her heart keep beating if it had shattered into a million pieces.
She didn't know how long she had hugged her mother weeping into her arms. They had tried to convince her to leave or to get something to eat. But, even they had left her alone after a while. She kept reliving the last few minutes before he disappeared. The words he had almost said. She knew how he felt. She had always known. The way he was so achingly, obviously jealous of Micky. But, she would have liked to hear the words. Words left unspoken that would haunt her dreams. What she wouldn't have given to have touched him, to feel his hand in hers once more. There was so much she wished she could have, so much more she wished she could do. Yet, it was not meant to be.
She knew she had to move eventually. But, leaving meant living and she wasn't sure she knew how.
She knew she had to pull herself together. If not for her own sake, then for her pregnant mother. And she would pick up the pieces of her heart and depart this place, if only she could figure out how to move her feet. The thought came to her slowly for the dead cannot think. Plan in place, she moved her hand, tucking her hair behind her ear.
She would not stop until she found him again.
So, she moved her feet and breathed.