Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It made her feel selfish to admit, but the first few days of being rescued felt like heaven. The long helicopter ride was something like purgatory, and she had left a bruise from pinching herself, trying to prove it was real. She first started to feel dread when she tried to point them towards the village. “There are more of you?” The person asked, shocked.

“Ten more,” Natalie yelled over the harsh whooshing of the helicopter blades.

The pilot’s eyes went wide. “We can’t fit that many people, we aren’t equipped.”

Nat felt her heart drop to her feet. “We can’t leave them here, they’ll die!” She screamed, finally facing the cold reality that none of them would survive much longer out here.

“We’ll come back for them, it’s the only option. Get in.”

The man was right, she had to. She had betrayed enough of her friends, and even though this felt like a renewed betrayal, she had to do it to save them.

She was nearly sick with guilt as she used the last of her strength to climb into the helicopter, collapsing into a seat. She told herself again and again that they would come back, trying to steady her breathing as the helicopter lifted off the ground. She was shivering furiously, near-freezing from being up on that mountain for hours.

“Hey kid,” The other man, a paramedic, shouted to get her attention. “When’s the last time you ate?”

Natalie’s eyes lit up with hope, and she struggled to remember. “I mean, I ate the snow up there but before that… two nights ago I think. Why, do you have food?!”

Before she could finish talking, the paramedic was digging in his bag, and presented her with a bottle of water and a protein bar.

She tore open the package with her teeth and took a bite that was nearly half the bar. She chewed quickly and her mouth watered furiously at the sweet chocolate coating. It was chalky, and tasted more like whey than anything else, but it was so much better than anything she had eaten out there. After belt soup, it’s hard to be picky. She turned back to the paramedic eagerly, and he shook his head, trying not to look surprised or concerned by her frantic eating. “I’m sorry, that’s all I brought. You’ll have more when we land, I promise. Here, drink some water.”

Hands shaking and weak, she opened the bottle with her teeth, and gulped the water, feeling some spill down her chin. The water was cool and sweet, better than even the freshest stream they had found out there. She wanted to drink it all in a single sip, but she felt her stomach getting uncomfortably full and sick-feeling. Her stomach had clearly shrunk. Even when hunting (or culling) was successful, there was never enough to get a full portion. Never enough to feel safe not rationing.

A helicopter ride would’ve terrified her even before the crash, but she tried to push down the fear. Still avoiding looking down, Nat took in the beautiful skyline. The snow reflected the sunlight bright enough to burn her tearful eyes, but she wanted- no, needed

to savor this moment. For her, at least, it was over. She knew it would be hard from here, she knew she was headed straight for the hospital, but she was out of the Wilderness now.

Once they reached a steady altitude, the EMT began to work her up, taking her vitals. He handled her extremely gently, frightened by how thin she looked.

Nat’s time in the hospital was a strange experience, to say the least. The doctors, and eventually psychologists, warned her that things would get worse before they got better, but she didn’t grasp what that meant at first. 

Within days, her relief of being rescued faded. She was fighting a whole new battle now. She went from gratefully eating any meal she could, to vomiting, to refeeding syndrome. From climbing that mountain, to weakness, to needing physical therapy. From sleeping 15 hours the night she was rescued, to quickly developing nightmares, then clinical insomnia. 

Worst of all, the longer she was safe, the more worried she became about the others. Nat couldn’t stop thinking about if they had even eaten since she had left. That they were freezing right now in the woods while she was safe indoors with blankets and a heating pad.

The search and rescue officers interviewed her extensively, having her draw on a map of the Canadian wilderness as well. She went over everything she felt safe revealing, then hesitantly warned them that not all the Yellowjackets were in a prime state to be rescued. Shauna and her followers would surely resist them, and Lottie would need a lot of support as well. She warned them to approach slowly and carefully, mostly to avoid an ax to the back of the head. Hell, all she could hope was that Shauna wasn’t carving up Mari’s corpse when help arrived. None of them were gravely injured, but no one was in good shape either. The search and rescue team needed a few weeks to get ready, but Nat made them promise they would start looking before the temps fell below zero. She understood that rescuing a team of unwell people took a lot of preparation, but she was becoming beyond impatient.

Chapter Text

“I don’t wanna go out there,” Nat groaned.

The nurse nodded understandingly. “It’s okay if you aren’t ready,” she reassured the frail girl. “We can tell them to come back or that you can tell them everything when you’re out of the hospital.”

Nat sighed. “No, that’s not fair to them. They’ve already waited 19 months.” 

“Alright, honey, they’re in the consultation room with that officer you worked with.”

She knew the second she saw their worried faces, worried about her friends, she would melt and tell them everything she could. Part of her felt like this shouldn’t be her job, but she knew that in their shoes, she would act the same way. Even if it shouldn’t be, this was her responsibility. The price she had to pay for her early rescue.

They all had been told the state of their children, in fact, the information was already more public than she’d like. Still, most of them wanted to see Nat, either to hear the information straight from the source, or out of shock that it was really her. She had talked to most of these people semi-regularly, saying ‘Hi’ and making small talk when they came to her games. She got the feeling that many of them pitied her, then and now, noticing her own parents weren’t around. They still fell into the category of warm acquaintances, though, so it surprised Nat when Misty’s mother rushed to hug her before she could stand up from the wheelchair used to transfer her.

The others embraced her as well, gently hugging her or patting her shoulder, with a few of the men opting to shake her boney hand out of respect and what seemed like gratitude. To Nat’s deep sadness, Jackie’s mom spoke first.

“Is she really…” 

Natalie pursed her lips sadly and nodded. “I’m so sorry, Mrs Taylor. She helped us so much- before she passed.” Nat quickly corrected. There were some things the parents never needed to know. “And I know it can’t compare, but you’ll see Shauna soon.” Hopefully seeing their daughter’s best friend could bring them a little closure, although Shauna wasn’t the girl they knew before.

Tears welled in Mrs Taylor’s eyes as she nodded, and Mr Taylor stood to leave, but neither of them seemed particularly shocked. In addition to being told already, they had spent months trying not to get their hopes up.

Mr Taylor stormed out, and his wife resigned to follow him. “Thank you Natalie. We hope to see you again soon,” She said stiffly, and Nat gave them a sad smile as she nodded in agreement.

Who’s next? She thought miserably. The next hour and a half was a blur as she told this room of adults the best and worst news of their lives.

“Misty is… actually doing the best out of anyone, I think.”

“Charlotte survived, but she’s really struggling mentally. I mean, more than the others.”

“I’m sorry for your loss Mrs Ibarra, Gen would love to see you soon.”

“Akilah’s doing alright, she’s our farmer.”

“Javi died a hero.”

“Melissa is alright, she’s been so brave.”

“Tai had it rough at first but she’s doing better now. Van looks out for her.”

The parents filtered out of the room slowly, some thanking Nat while others appeared to be too lost in thought, which she could hardly blame them for. 

Exhausted, she began to say goodbye to the Search and Rescue Officer, but he interrupted. “There’s one more, he wanted to speak with you alone if that’s okay.”

Nat nodded, confused, as a tan man with a neatly groomed beard entered. He looked tired. No matter how he knew the team, she could tell he probably hadn’t slept since hearing about the rescue.

“Um, I’m not sure if we’ve met, how do we know each other?” She stammered out, embarrassed.

“I’m Paul, did he tell you about me?”
Oh. Her heart skipped a beat from surprise and fear, and her face fell a bit. “Yes.” She didn’t know what to say except for the phrase she’d already said a dozen times today. “I’m so, so, sorry, Paul.”

Paul nodded, teary-eyed, and she continued. “We couldn’t have survived without Coach.” She didn’t know what else to say. Everything had gone so wrong for their poor coach.

The man gave a small smile. “He loved you guys. I know you two were pretty close.”

“He was so good to all of us on the team,” Nat brushed it off, ashamed.

“Ben cared about you, he knew you had real potential. Talked about you a lot. He knew things weren’t easy for you, even before the crash, and that’s kind of why I’m here.”

Nat’s sadness was cut off by a raise of her eyebrows, looking up at him in confusion.

“I don’t know what happened out there, but I know you two looked out for each other. I’m not sure if you’ll have somewhere to go when you get out of the hospital.” Nat blushed with shame. Coach really had talked about her. He continued, “I just wanted to say that if you need anything at all- help getting back on your feet, a place to stay, just someone to talk to, I’m here. Here’s my phone number.”

Nat took the slip of paper thoughtfully. After a long pause, she spoke. “Coach told me about you, too. He said you’re a writer, and a good guy.” They shared a bittersweet smile, and even though it seemed absolutely crazy to move in with a random man she had never met, she believed Coach Scott. “I’ll think about it. Thank you, really.”

He tipped his head down, awkwardly accepting her thanks. “Well, have a good one, feel better soon.”

“Have a good one.” He left, as did the officer, and the nurse helped her to return to her room. Before speaking to Paul, she planned to just go back to her room and cry, but he had helped her feel a bit better 

She fidgeted with the piece of paper, thinking over his offer. Until now, she had refused to think about where she would stay after the hospital. She was kind of hoping that she would be hospitalized until the others were rescued, at least, and she could hang around the hospital till she went home with one of them. She knew that was unlikely though, even if one of the girls agreed, their parents might not. Plus, she had no idea how long they would be hospitalized. Misty would probably be out first, and she did not want to ask to stay with Misty. Out of anyone, she’d probably pick Lottie, but she knew Lottie would probably be in a place with stricter visiting hours.

The nurse came in with a tray, interrupting her thoughts. “Time for a snack, we have applesauce and toast on the menu,” The nurse feigned some cheer, expecting a negative reaction.
Nat groaned as she accepted the tray. The irony wasn’t lost on her, but she had come to dread mealtimes. At this point, she was beyond used to hunger, so the only thing motivating her to eat was the constant threat of an NG tube. She considered it many times, it seemed so much easier, but all she could picture was finding the others feeding Coach, the gagging, the vomiting, the blood. It made her feel sick just thinking about it, but always convinced her to take the first bite.

She spread butter and jam on the toast, trying to remember how much she had missed these creature comforts. She took a bite, and regretted the jam immediately. She would normally like the taste, but with her body trying to reject anything and everything, it was sickly sweet. She had to consciously make an effort to chew her food, knowing it would help with all the symptoms, but not being too used to it yet. 

It was almost humorous to her. I’m happy to scarf down a random bird that drops dead in front of me, but I gag at the thought of eating more than once a day.

Chapter Text

Strangely enough, Hannah was the most excited to greet Nat once they landed, pulling her into a hug and whispering in relief, “The plan worked.” Nat usually wasn’t such a hugger, but she supposed drastic times called for drastic measures.
Nat knew their relationship was strange. Hannah began as a hostage, but then again, they all felt like hostages. Or maybe an opposite that was just as bad. But either way, they had grown quite close, especially when united against Shauna.
“We thought you were dead until the rescuers came, but you did it,” Hannah said proudly, holding her tighter.
It warmed Nat’s heart to know that Hannah cared so much about her. Not as jaded as the rest of us.
They broke off their embrace, and Nat finally got a look at the other woman. Her clothing was a mess, a mix of dirty hiking clothes and a poorly made cape that was assembled from a variety of patchwork goat pelts. Honestly, it kind of smelled. Looking down, she noticed her own hospital gown smudged with a small amount of dirt and mud. She quickly brushed it off to spare Hannah any embarrassment.
Now that she was an observer, she realized how absurd they all looked. She watched the team on the roof of the hospital where she’d met them and took in their appearance. Their clothes were such an odd mix, their modern jeans, letterman jackets, hoodies, or plastic parkas topped with their homemade clothes made of blankets from the cabin or the skins and furs of small game. Their favorite skirts, tights, and other impractical yet fashionable clothes had been cut and sewn into headbands, ski masks, and makeshift bags. Beneath the unusual garments, they were all dirty and skeletal, with a wild look in their eyes.
It was then that Misty approached her, and as she went in for a hug, Nat took a big step back. Misty looked to her confused, but she was already fuming all over again. “If it wasn’t for you, this would’ve happened ages ago, you crazy bitch,” she hissed at her, and Misty huffed before walking on past her.
Without noticing her spat with Misty, the others came forward to see Nat, which thoroughly improved her mood. She greeted Melissa, Travis, Gen, Akilah… Wait a minute… “Where are the others? Are they okay? Did they get away from the rescuers? Are they alive?”
“Calm down, calm down,” Melissa assured her. “They’re okay, they’re following us in another helicopter.”
“Oh thank god. Was there no room?”
“Well, there just wasn’t enough room for the stretchers.”
Natalie panicked all over again. “Are they hurt?”
Travis sighed. “Worse, they’re fucking stupid,” He said frustratedly, heading inside as well.
Gen filled in the blanks. “They had to drag Shauna and Tai out of there, and Lottie hid in the cave which made her pretty sick, but one of the EMTs gave her oxygen and they said she’ll be okay.”
“I’m so glad we knew where to look,” Akilah added.
“Van wouldn’t leave Tai’s side, so she’s on that one too,” Melissa chimed back in.
“Girls, we need you off the helipad!,” called the pilot, interrupting. “We gotta go so the next one can land.” Many doctors had been lingering near the door to the rooftop with transport wheelchairs, and they welcomed the Yellowjackets into the hospital.
Though still very worried about Lottie, she felt so much better knowing they were all officially back to safety. The three that resisted help arrived sedated, so after a quick hug and “Thank you,” from Van, she decided to let them recover in peace. Not that she really wanted to be there once Shauna woke up, anyway. Nat bounced between her friends until their families arrived, then made her way back to her room for lunch.
She sat on her bed and picked at her mashed potatoes, feeling lonely for the first time in a while. At least over the last two weeks she had the comfort of knowing her friends would arrive soon, but now, there was nothing to distract her from the fact that she was the only surviving Yellowjacket with an empty hospital room.
Admittedly, she hadn’t contacted her mother, but why would she? Wisayok wasn’t that big, she had definitely heard about it at this point. It was on every news channel in the state, and the Wisayok Times was having a field day. Hell, it’s probably on Facebook by now, she thought.
Still, Nat felt a little immature, waiting for her mother to reach out first, but after witnessing all the other parents’ reactions before their kids even got back, she couldn’t even put the blame on herself. It hurt, but it didn’t surprise her. Her mom had always made it exceedingly clear that their mother-daughter relationship was only temporary.
“As soon as you turn 18…” Natalie remembered her constantly saying. When she was 18 she would be kicked out, her mother would throw out her things, her parents would never talk to her again. It was a scary threat when she was young, and it used to really get to her, but it just became a reassurance as she entered her teen years. She had waited so long to turn 18 and get out of that awful trailer (not that she ever spent much time at home), but no one could have expected the circumstances.
Still lost in thought, she managed to finish her potatoes and green beans, leaving the chicken breast untouched. That was another newfound side effect of her time in the Wilderness; she couldn’t stomach the idea of eating meat again. At first it was just red meat, it reminded her too much of the horrible things they had to do. But after the hospital’s pathetic attempt at a Thanksgiving dinner, any poultry just tasted like starling soup. In the woods, they all quickly learned that there’s a reason only a few birds were farmed for meat.
She felt so spoiled and snobbish, becoming pickier by the day, but she couldn’t help it. Her stomach was still so fickle. Whenever her mind brought up repulsive imagery, all the disgusting things she was forced to eat in the Wilderness, it felt like the food had spoiled in her mouth. More often than not, it’d lead to her gagging up the start of her meal, and probably the most recent Ensure shake, as well. Every time this happened, there was the question of an NG tube, and if Natalie was ready to handle feeding herself, an absolutely terrifying prospect for her, so she had to stick to the soft, palatable foods she could tolerate.
Knowing this, she tried to push her guilt aside, but the least she could do was laugh at herself and the drastic shift in priorities.
The next few days were a whirlwind. A few more team members had complications similar to Nat, with most of them having some sort of digestion issue, and several cases of post-concussion syndrome being diagnosed. She had heard Lottie’s was especially bad. Which makes sense after Shauna beat the shit out of her, she thought. As expected, Lottie was quickly taken to a center more equipped to treat her once Nat and the Matthews were able to explain her past and present mental health history. She didn’t get to say ‘goodbye’ first, which honestly made her a little sad, but she figured she would just have to visit her soon.
She actually really liked Lottie before the crash, and never lost empathy for her throughout. Nat absolutely couldn’t stand how her own delusions egged on the others, but she couldn’t really blame the girl for that. None of them were well out there, and Lottie was off her medication after the first few weeks.
She wanted to give her some time to recover first, so she would visit the second week, she decided. Nat herself would be out of the hospital by then, and hopefully everyone else would be a little more stable.
In the meantime, she finally requested to meet with that social worker. She didn’t want to accept the help, but there weren’t many other options. The social worker was a kind woman named Heather, who was honestly kind of unequipped to deal with this situation. Then again, so was Natalie, so she could hardly criticize.
She helped her apply for aid through the Red Cross, as well as Social Security Income. Nat argued that she wasn’t disabled, that she was fine; she just needed help getting back on her feet like Paul said.
Although this situation was foreign to her, Heather was very familiar with that reaction. She gently explained that she could tell the girl was very smart, independent, and capable, that she had more than proved that. But for the time being, all the girls were considered temporary disabled adults due to acute malnutrition and severe PTSD.
Nat gave in, knowing she really needed the money. Some of the other parents had gifted her a few pairs of comfortable clothes and a coloring book, and the hospital had provided her with some toiletries, but that was literally all she had, and she would be in big trouble when she ran out of excuses to stay hospitalized. She knew she had to call Paul and accept his offer.
Later that night, she picked up the hospital landline and punched in his number, kind of hoping he wouldn’t pick up.
“Hello?”
Damn it. “Hi, this is Natalie. I’m calling from the hospital.”
“Oh, hi Natalie! What’s up? You okay?”
“Yea, I’m okay. I’m just calling because, um, I applied for some programs to help me get situated again, but it’s gonna take a while to hear back. Am I still able to stay with you? Just for a little while?”
“Of course!” He answered quickly. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need. The house has been too empty. I thought about getting a cat, but… Anyways, when are you getting released from the hospital? Are you feeling any better?”
Even though his words were kind of sad, it did make her feel better to hear his nervous rambling. It neutralized her own anxiety, as well as assuring her that she wouldn’t be going home with some crazy person. “Yea, I’ve been feeling okay. Honestly, I think they’ve been keeping me here mostly because it is the best place I had to recover. If I tell them I have somewhere safe to go, they’ll do some final tests and probably let me out within the week.”
“Wow, that’s great to hear. I just realized- Can you go up stairs?” Paul asked.
Ah, he’s only seen me in a wheelchair. “Oh, yea, I can walk and everything, I’m just a little weak still.” She couldn’t help feeling embarrassed. Everytime someone commented on her mobility, she wanted to scream at them that she just climbed a mountain, but they were usually right.
“Okay, good, good. What’s your number so we can text once it’s closer?”
“Well, I don’t really have a phone yet.” She found herself red in the face again. God, this whole ‘settling in’ thing is humiliating.
“Oh. I guess I didn’t think about that- No big deal,” He recovered quickly. “Call me again once you’re cleared to go home and we can discuss everything else on the drive, okay?”
Nat smiled. ‘Go home’, finally. “Sounds like a plan. Thank you again, Paul.”
She was right about when the hospital would release her, and once she was cleared, she got to call Paul again just a few days later.
Nat felt like everyone was staring at her as she stood on the sidewalk outside the hospital, shivering in her t-shirt with the small, plastic bag of her belongings. She had found out this morning that her cloak was declared a biohazard and thrown out the day she was rescued, which she honestly couldn’t be too mad about. She just hated being cold. Outside of her eating problems, it was probably one of the first things that was truly triggering to her. It made her feel that awful sense of dread, that instinctual knowledge that she would die if she couldn’t get warm.
Chill the fuck out, you’re fine, she crudely reminded herself, spotting Paul’s smiling face in the window of an old but well-mantained truck. Nat smiled and hurried towards the passenger door, entering and rubbing her arms to try and get warm.
“No coat?” Paul asked, his voice rich with lighthearted surprise.
“Not yet, I don’t have one.”
“Oh,” he reached into the backseat, pulling out a gray felt blanket and passing it to Nat. “I got you a hoodie, but I didn’t remember you’ll need a coat, we’ll get one soon.
She wrapped herself in the blanket gratefully. “You got me a hoodie?”
He nodded. “Yea, I just got you a few things to start.”
“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. Once I get a job or social security I can pay you back.”
He took a quick break from his many-point turn to wave his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, just pick a day next week to make dinner and we’re even.”