Deliquesce

Chapter 29: Deliquesce

Rated: M

Warnings: This is the final chapter.

A/N: So.. yeah. It is done. 3 years, and I'm done. Jesus christ. This could have been finished a year and a half ago if I wasn't such a lazy asshole. I'd just like to thank everyone for reading and supporting my work. It truly makes me so happy to think that there's all these people out there in the world actually reading my stories and enjoying them!

There will be a sequel. I've written the first chapter and have an outline of the story. Let's just say.. it gets weirder. More action, more comedy (hopefully.. people who have read my other stories know I get a bit carried away with the angst..), aaaaand more Willy Wonka, of course!

Hope you enjoy this chapter. Let me know what you think of the story as a whole in the reviews, what you'd like to see me do better next time etc. Thank you! 3

We held the funeral the day after. A quiet affair, in the courtyard, with only a few of his belongings placed on the steps outside the door to memorialise. The rest of the day was spent somberly clearing out houses on the left side, to accommodate the group, and reinforcing the barriers around us. Ain't no rest for the wicked.

I sat on top of one of the abandoned cars with Willy beside me, watching the others clean out the trash. The sky was clear today. Odd. My heavy heart and cloudy thoughts were a strange juxtaposition to the blue sky scattered with whimsical, pearly clouds that were tinged pink in some parts. Not long until dark.

"Is one of those houses for you?" He asked, breaking the silence.

"Maybe." I lay on my back, legs hanging over the side of the car.

"I'd understand if you wanted time to yourself."

I didn't reply. I felt weird. Sad. I was grieving. Not just for Spencer. In a way I was grieving for everyone I had lost. My family. My friends. I'd never had time to let myself be sad. There were always more important issues to tend to. It wasn't a terrible sadness, just a strange one. One that I wasn't used to. One that was hanging fresh in the air, one that will eventually dry, as opposed to one that stays wet in the hamper and turns manky. The one I had been holding inside of me for all this time. It was time to let it dry.

Perhaps I did need some time outside of that factory. The factory had the most peculiar way of making one feel isolated from the rest of the world. I wouldn't hide from it anymore. Fresh location, fresh start. Change was just around the corner in so many ways, and I was going to be ready for it.

"You know I love you, right?" I said after a while, glancing over to him. I saw his shoulders sag slightly with the implication as he exhaled. I looked back up to the sky.

"I know. You told me." There was a small, sad smile in his voice.

"I remember that. I meant it."

"So did I. You must have a very good memory, it might almost be as good as your ability to dodge questions." He chuckled a little.

"I-"

"I understand. You're my gal, I get ya." He gazed dreamily into the clouds which had deepened in colour slightly.

I'm his gal. "I'm glad you do." I scooted over, grabbed his chin, pulled his face towards mine and kissed him. He smiled against my lips after a few seconds.

"Go on then, pick a house."

It took almost three months to clear the whole city, and another month to set up the final barricades around it all.

Briley and I shared a house. It was nice to be living in a normal house of our own. It seemed final, and I felt settled. Something about the factory felt very temporary. Like it was never meant to be lived in. Like it was more of a stepping stone across a river rather than the river bank. The more comfortable I became in my own house, the more I realised I no longer wanted to live in the factory.

However, something about Wonka felt very permanent. Like we were meant to be each others. Like everything that happened was meant to happen. Most of those things I never wanted, but I can't say that I've lost more than I've gained. We are constantly losing and gaining, even before the world turned to shit. Nothing is ever fixed, and we should never label it with a fixed label. At the end of the day, I was his and he was mine. That's all that mattered to me.

People started coming into the city. Wonka took on the job of creating files for each new person who came to our town. Basic files containing names, birthdays, origins, etc. Brandon helped with the medical examinations and interviews. New people in our city was a good thing, but with any good thing comes the bad. We had to be sure they weren't from our rivalling group or similar, that they weren't hiding anything etc. Newly infected people were held in a secure tent set up outside the main barriers and treated before being let in. All of the work, the 18 hour days setting up shelter for the newcomers and scavenging for food was not wasted. It was all for a good reason.

Radio communication was finally made possible by Wonka, after those four months. Even more people trickled in one by one, two by two, sometimes groups. I remember sitting in that basement with that never-ending static, just waiting for some sort of broadcast. I could imagine the relief they felt when they finally heard a voice. Our city was slowly flourishing. Life was possible. That single ember had caught flame on a dead leaf.

We set up a defence force called Phoenix Corps. I felt like it was fitting, and since I was appointed the chief commander, I named it that. As I rose from my 'death', we as a race would too. It's possible, because of Wonka.

Currently we have 68 people in the city, 36 of which are part of our little army. We have three doctors who are training a few other people. We have farmers, who are still working on planting crops. The snow is gone but the weather is still cold, so we aren't producing enough just yet to become fully self-sufficient. We'll get there eventually, but for now we have to rely on expeditions to neighbouring towns to scavenge for food.

I never wanted it. You know, the world turning to shit. The government and military to fall like a baby off a cliff. Humanity to literally tear itself apart. Families to be destroyed, lives to be lost. Those things are expected in an epidemic of this size. We're expected to die off. To deliquesce into the oblivion we came from. What wasn't expected, however, was for us to come back. To fight back like the pride-driven creatures we are. We do our best to survive in this fucked up world, and somehow along the way we had managed to conquer a small part of it, and in that vague sense I guess nothing has really changed since before it all happened. We're just doing what humanity has been doing since the dawn on time.