The South in the memory is still rooted to the spot, staring at her brother's dead body, her gun clattering to the ground in her shock. The sound draws the Meta's eye and it surges forward, slamming her against the ground and knocking her out.

North never even got the chance to look up and see her standing there before it was over, but this is the third time South's seen her brother die. The third fucking time she's watched that blade strike and known she'd failed him; back then, back when it really happened, it had been her self-preservation instincts that kept her from acting, but here she's just powerless. There's not even a choice.

"If I could fucking end this, or kick you out, you'd already be gone," she says, tone now taking on a colder edge much more like the way she spoke when she first arrived on the rig. She can practically feel whatever non-negative feelings York had towards her dying.

Her eyes start stinging, tears welling in them, and she tries to swipe them away.