Work Text:
Sometimes, Nerissa felt like she was not exactly human anymore.
Or, well, she wasn’t, but it was not just the angel wings, not just the magic running through her veins or that terrible, terrible obligation she now held to the world. Rather, it was some integral part of her, something within her very soul, and if she were to be completely honest, she had been feeling less and less human long before she actually no longer was.
Maybe it had started the first time she had killed. Even now, even after everything, their names and faces still haunted her. Ellia, her sickly sweet chocolate eyes, her cooed words, her hatred and also her fear, and Atlas, her partner who was quick to obey her every word if only because they believed in the same thing, because they strived for a similar ending…
But, then, maybe it had been later still than that. Somewhere between revolution and Chaos, between loss and love, all the things she no longer had but did not know how to make her heart beat without.
Sometimes, Nerissa felt like she was not exactly human anymore.
Most nights, she woke when the moon was still high, some sort of ghosts chasing after her through the dark expanses of her dreams. Though she sorely missed his presence near her, it made Nerissa grateful that she was no longer sharing a room with Poseidon.
Maybe he had nightmares too, she thought, and yet he never said anything. He was strong, but Nerissa wished that he would not be. Never before had he felt so far away from her, even when he was close.
Tonight, Nerissa had left her room in Emerson’s house to wander. It was a strange feeling, to be able to move freely like this, but the one thing she had learned since coming to Erebus was that, while people here were scared of her, they did not want to kill her or entrap her because of it. Especially not here in Hathet, where everyone was supposedly like family.
Emerson had told them that, no matter what happened, in the eyes of the people of Hathet, they were Ely’s children first and foremost. It was comforting, and yet it was not.
They weren’t Ely’s children. Not really.
In some far corner of Nerissa’s mind, she could remember playing games with her father, putting together jigsaw puzzles or building grand structures from wooden blocks. He had been warm. Comforting. When she had had bad dreams, he would hold her and stroke her hair and tell her that everything was fine, because he was right there. She could not remember well, no, but the memories were still there, a constant and aching reminder of what she had lost.
What she had taken from herself.
It was one death that she could almost believe wasn’t her fault, even though it unequivocally was. But Adrienne and Emerson had both told her that Ely wouldn’t blame her. That Ely would be grateful she and Poseidon were safe, no matter the cost.
And yet, she wasn’t always sure.
Ely’s children.
But did she even deserve to call herself his daughter?
It was a little cold tonight. Though Hathet was much warmer than Derayn was even in the summer, the seasons here were reversed. Spring had begun to flourish around them, and ever since she had lifted the Heavens again, the growth seemed to come much quicker. The grass was a vibrant green, and the plants were budding beautifully. Another time, Nerissa thought she would not have cared so much, but now she found that each little sign of life was incredibly captivating, almost like it was something she could not entirely comprehend, herself.
Sometimes, Nerissa felt like she was not exactly human anymore.
When she had woken up tonight, the same tired cycle as always, it had been Adrienne’s voice that had followed her back into the waking world.
On nights like these, Nerissa couldn’t always remember what her mother’s dying words to her had been. Some part of her knew them by heart—I'm so proud of you—but another part of her, something far viler, deep beneath her very soul, told her that she had not meant them, that she had said something entirely different.
Everything I ever did, the Adrienne in her dreams had said, I did for you.
And it was true, wasn’t it?
Adrienne had given up everything for them. And in the very end, she had died for Nerissa too, her own sword stabbed through her abdomen at the hands of the person who was supposed to love her most, and yet did not.
Eventually, Nerissa found herself at the edge of the village. Ahead of her were looming trees, a small entrance opening up to endless darkness, but it was not the darkness that made her skin crawl.
Ahead of her, within this forest, was the only known entrance to the Heavens.
Ahead of her, within this forest, was the place where she had died, at least in part.
With a heart as cold and heavy as stone, Nerissa stepped into the forest.
It was eerily quiet tonight; even the creatures that called this place home did not make any noise, did not seem to notice her presence at all. Here, she was entirely alone, and it was difficult to tell anymore if that was a good thing or a bad one.
It was impossible to tell how long she walked, but she eventually came upon a familiar clearing. The light of the moon shone down from its highest point, illuminating the area with a brilliant silver glow. She watched for a moment, and then let out a small sigh and sat down at the base of a nearby tree.
If she wanted to, she could ascend to the Heavens from here. She bore the blood of the old gods, now, after all; the Heavens had already accepted her, sins and all.
To her right, a sudden noise caught her attention, and she was on her feet in no time at all, hands poised in front of her and the moisture of the air around her at her beck and call.
Another noise, like the sound of something pushing past the bushes, and then—
“I’ve been looking for you, you know.”
Nerissa’s hands began to shake, but she did not drop them, even as Ada stepped into view.
“Why?” she asked, and she hated the way her voice trembled, but she could not stop it, could not control it, could not control any of this…
“It’s late,” Ada said quietly, as if that answered her question.
Nerissa said nothing. Her hands continued to shake, but for some reason she could not bring herself to lower them again, to let her guard down for even the smallest of moments.
“I won’t make you go back, if you don’t want to.” Ada seemed to hesitate for a moment, and then she said, “But I’m not going to leave you here alone.”
Alone.
“Why?” Nerissa asked again, but she did need Ada to answer.
“Nerissa—”
“Who told you I needed fixing?” Nerissa snarled. “And what made you believe them?”
Ada stopped. Something Nerissa could not quite read flashed in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it had come.
“I don’t want to fix you,” she whispered. “You’re not broken, Nerissa.”
Her hands would not stop shaking.
“Then why won’t you just leave me alone?”
Silence.
And then: “Because you’re my friend.”
It was like all of Nerissa’s nightmares had caught up to her at once. All the pain and all the death, the awful memories she had to revisit and the worse ones, the ones that had never really happened but felt so real that when Nerissa woke up, she wasn’t entirely sure that they weren’t .
Sometimes, she dreamed of Emmet and Ada, too.
Sometimes, she watched them die in her dreams.
Sometimes, she killed them herself.
But Ada was right in front of her. She was not afraid of Nerissa. Nerissa did not want to kill her.
They were friends.
Her hands would not stop shaking.
“I’m not going to leave you here,” Ada said, and now she came closer. Closer, until she was right in front of Nerissa, and then her smaller hands wrapped around Nerissa’s and held them still. For a moment, their eyes met, and then Nerissa looked away.
“You should sit down,” Ada told her softly. “I’ll be right here beside you. I won’t go anywhere.”
Nerissa did not protest as Ada guided her back down to the forest floor, but she stubbornly kept her gaze away from the other girl.
“Poseidon told you to come,” she said thickly.
“Poseidon told me to come,” Ada agreed. “But I would’ve come anyway, if I’d known where to look for you.”
Nerissa wasn’t sure if it was true, but she wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe that Ada really would’ve followed her all the way out here, wanted to believe that Ada truly felt like she shouldn’t be all alone, and so…
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Why?”
“You’re not broken,” Ada said again. It was not an answer, but it made something very painful stir in Nerissa’s chest anyway.
“Sometimes,” she said. Stopped.
Ada waited, but Nerissa could no longer find her voice.
For a very long time, they simply sat there, hands held together and Nerissa’s eyes as far away from Ada’s as possible, and then…
Nerissa turned to look at her.
“Sometimes,” she said, “I don’t feel like I’m exactly human anymore.”
If Ada was surprised by the admission, it didn’t show. Instead, she pulled one of her hands away from Nerissa’s and brought it up to Nerissa’s face. Carefully, she brushed away a few loose strands of hair, and then she smiled.
“Me either,” she said. “Sometimes, I think about the things my mom said to me, and I wonder if maybe she was right all along. But…” She paused, keeping her hand still against Nerissa’s cheek. “Feeling this way proves that you are human.”
Maybe it was the lateness of the night. Maybe it was all the precious hours of sleep she had lost. Maybe it was this place, between the Heavens and the earth, where Nerissa had laid down her life only weeks before. Maybe it was Ada’s hand on her cheek, or the knowledge that Poseidon had told Ada to come, or the fact that Ada would have found her anyway, simply because she wanted to.
Whatever it was, it did not matter; it started in her chest, the breaking of some sort of dam she had built up many, many months ago, and it rose up through her throat. She could not even try to hold it back, and when the first sob escaped from her lips, Ada didn’t seem to expect her to.
Within only seconds, she was crying in earnest, crying in a way that she had perhaps never cried before, or maybe the same way she had cried when she was five years old and she had had a bad dream, but now instead of Ely holding her close and whispering comfort in her ear, it was Ada, one hand intertwined with hers and the other pressed warmly against her cheek, catching the tears that fell in its path.
“You’re not broken,” Ada told her. “You don’t need to be fixed.”
Nerissa gasped for breath, but it was futile; her emotions had overwhelmed her completely. Everything she had kept in since she had killed Ellia and Atlas, since she had watched Adrienne die and Avery had killed Katina, that fierce fire born of heartbreak lighting her eyes.
This pain was the same she had barely been holding back when Poseidon had given himself to Chaos, when she had waited and waited and waited for him to resurface, fear wrapping around her heart like a vice and holding her hostage, the only selfish thought in her head being that he couldn’t die, because he was all she had left.
It had not been so long ago, yet it felt like she had been keeping all of it locked deep inside her for years and she wasn’t quite sure yet if letting it out truly meant release or not.
But Ada stayed close to her, anchoring her to the here, the now, this moment , and though Nerissa felt dangerously out of control, cosmically unhinged, there was no doubt that she was still herself. Herself. Human.
Feeling this way proves that you are human.
Sometimes, Nerissa felt like she was not exactly human anymore.
But as long as Ada was here, holding you close, reminding her—you aren’t broken, you don’t need to be fixed…
It drowned out Ellia’s voice, calling her a monster. Washed away the things her mind wanted her to believe Adrienne had said, and left her with only I’m so proud of you. Reminded her that, though he had been in danger, Poseidon was still very much alive, was still her brother, her best friend in the world.
Here, now, leaned against Ada, she was all the things she often felt she had no right to call herself, but most of all—
Most of all, she was human.