Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"I've proven who I am so many times

The magnetic strip's worn thin

And each time I was someone else

And every one was taken in

Hours chatter in high places

Stir up eddies in the dust of rage

Set me to pacing the cage

Sometimes the best map will not guide you

You can't see what's round the bend

Sometimes the road leads through dark places

Sometimes the darkness is your friend

Today these eyes scan bleached-out land

For the coming of the outbound stage.

Pacing the cage.

Pacing the cage."

Ava Silva is a miracle, and the situation has little to recommend it. 

Of course, objectively speaking her life has little to recommend it so truly being a medical freak is continuing the trend—a sicky orphan with unknown South American or American origins. Ava was familiar with the whims of fate and fortune long before becoming a marvel and the source of so much public fascination and speculation. There were few options to young people available ageing out of the care system that didn't particularly want them in the first place. The fictional accounts such as Annie paint a pretty picture of hell, even in modern times. At least she can count on both access to knowledge through many books and true friendships with fellow orphans like Diego. 

The caretakers range from neutral to deeply hostile. Her story isn't that unique in that her dead parents didn't appear to have any willing friends or relatives. The knowledge and Ava Silva begins and ends with the flimsy file in St Michaels. Her 'reprieve' to 19 years happens because she is a sickly person and Sister Frances worries about the orphanage's reputation and the order if they send out such a 'representative. The extra 365 days means little to Ava beyond being able to spend more time with Diego looking after the younger kids. 

Then she receives a life-changing offer, and painful reality checks at the same time. Again, these two-step punch is an almost expected outcome in Ava's experience of life to date. Sister Frances is more than willing to pass judgement in the form of a religious fable or two about what good and grateful children needs to strive to be. Ava is her most troublesome charge and is frequently on the receiving end of such lectures. Ava can quote the holy book cover to cover. A strange feat for somebody who remains apathetic to God or at least his representatives on earth. She certainly doesn't expect any divine intervention of any significance. 

"My name is Beatrice; I represent Cruciform an organisation and think tank that brings together people willing to fight the world’s largest problems. Our founder was once friends with your mother and only recently learnt of your circumstances. We would like to offer you a highly prized apprenticeship with our workforce."  An officious British woman as if things are a forgone conclusion. 

"How did you find out about me, I haven't had a single visitor in over a decade." Ava asks suspiciously. 

"We have our ways; there is plenty of time to go over things in more detail in plane." Beatrice replies sounding impatient. 

"Don't you know kidnaping orphans is against all sorts of laws, there are movies about it and everything." Ava quips mockingly 

"We are doing no such thing..." Beatrice sounds outraged now. 

Ava doesn't want this prim and correct woman to know that she isn't entirely sure what a 'think tank' is for outside TV. Let alone one that wants an orphan with average grades from an indifferent Catholic education system. To date, her plan revolves around leaving the orphanage and finding a menial job before saving enough to bail out Diego. 

Beatrice, who is about her age, has perfect posture and absolute refusal to acknowledge the Spanish heat. Her pronunciation is almost painfully correct, like something from a movie. Most older orphans are inherently suspicious of 'saviours' having gone through the routine of missionaries, wannabe celebrities and college students before. Ava wants to hear Beatrice out, but she is making no commitments. Where were these friends of her parents 12 years ago? 

"Miss Silva, you are you alright? You are looking awful pale." the words sound like they are far away. 

Ava is getting ready to tell her visitor her true thoughts, despite Sister Frances lectures to be grateful. However, she doesn't get the chance her body, never an overly reliable thing collapses. Doctors and scientists will tell her later that they have never seen a syndrome quite like hers before. It wouldn't take long for the problematic moniker of 'miracle' to make an appearance. Strangely Ava last clear memory is feeling amusement that Beatrice is finally losing the famous composure while rushing to catch her. Ava likes putting people off balance. 

Sense 

The first sense to return is the sense of smell. 

When you exist in a single location with few variations or visitors, certain things become familiar. Ava knows that she is no longer in Saint Michaels, everything smells fresh, clean and new. There is a faint hint of flowers in the air. There isn't the edge of mould that dominants the room she shares with Diego. However, many meals she misses there isn't the lingering scent of cheap, mass-produced food either. Ava Silva knows enough to stay still and gather as much information as possible. 

The sheets underneath her are 100%, not an orphan issue; they are thick and soft. There isn't a hole in one corner. Her neck feels like it is at an odd angle with such a stack of pillows. For once, she isn't too cold or boiling with the right amount of covers. If this is an orphan's version of the afterlife, it isn't too bad, despite all the dire warnings and predictions. Ava doesn't feel like she is obvious pain, and so far, there is no judgement and condemnation for her many sins. 

"She is remarkable. You were right to bring her here. It is such a shame we can't access any comprehensive. medical records." a disembodied voice complains sorrowfully. 

"How is it that places like Saint Michaels still exist in modern Europe and always enjoy the full protection of the Church? Not all these issues are from her current aliment." other insists angrily while her hands are still gentle as she baths Ava. 

"Hopefully they can use this investigation to look into the state of the other children. There will be similar troubles for the young ones, who aren't the miracles." the first voice predicts 

It's these last two facts that guarantee that she is anywhere near the orphanage. There is no way in hell; Sister Frances would let them talk about the place like that. More to the point, nobody has the time or motivation to treat Ava limbs so gently and with such attention. Sometimes they spend an entire 30 minutes on keeping Ava clean. The nuns will run through 10 kids in the same time period. Ava isn't in a position, literally or metaphorically, to complain but it does feel weird. 

Comprehension 

There isn't a plentiful amount of information for Ava to draw on to understand her situation. 

Her biggest problem is that she keeps slipping in and out of wakefulness. Even during when she is Ava is overwhelmed by bone-deep exhaustion. Whatever stuck her down is not letting go without a fight. The information that does come to her is in little fragments that are slowly coming together to form a still confusing story. It's as if one of the sermons was suddenly in a mixture of English and Greek instead of Spanish. Beatrice, of the mysterious organisation, hadn't simply let her faint on the floor. Whosever care she was under it wasn't Sister Frances; Ava was certain of that one truth. 

People come in and out of her room with a similar regularity to her life back in the orphanage. However, there is a strange mixture of accents. Nobody appears to be reciting the Catholic prayers in any language, nor are they cursing unfortunate children's fate. On the other hand, nothing they say makes any more sense, but nobody seems to be kicking her out of this place. Ava hates the idea of being so utterly passive in a new situation, but that is often the orphan's fate. 

"Ava, my name is Dr  Hernández and it’s good that you are starting to respond to us, I'm going to ask you to answer a few simple questions.

Ava doesn't feel comfortable trying to speak yet, but she blinks once, remembering that they wanted to get her to do that a while ago. It seems to do the trick.

Ava wants to tell him that she has been conscious or at least a version alert more often than not, but she doesn't have the energy. She knows his name and the identities of most of his nursing staff. The birds that sing outside the widow that gets opened sometimes are even something like companions. Still, the idea of following basic instructions is both familiar and not too taxing. This man never talks down to her like a kid or treats the staff unkindly. 

The questions follow a predictable pattern, asking about what she understands, remembers and feels. Ava feels it must be a little disappointing to realise that their medical marvel doesn't have any blinding insights to offer. They talk slowly at let her take frequent breaks and sips of fresh, clean water. There are worse ways to spend an afternoon. 

Communication 

"My name is Ava Silva." 

The simple phrase in Spanish and English takes a worrying amount of energy and effort to get out. Her throat feels like it is still on fire, sitting up in her bed feels like she is fighting gravity and is on the losing side. Nobody seems to be expecting a huge amount from her and seem daunting excited by the slightest progress. Her ability to stay vertical confirms that she is in one of the wealthier areas of Spain. The room looks out on expansive gardens. While the two buildings are likely the same age architecturally, the similarities end there. Even staring at this ceiling is more interesting, with its flower and fruit patterns. 

The ability to recite her name and life's scant details do not seem like a reason for ecstasy. Still, she performs the tasks largely to avoid the overwhelming feelings of boredom and monotony. Those times are too similar to her time in the sickroom of Saint Michaels. At least this new routine doesn't involve Sister Frances and hours of lectures about humanity's damnation. 

"Miss Silva, your recovery is like nothing I have seen in my medical career. To come through such a series of medical disasters is nothing short of miraculous, especially with life at the orphanage and so many other complications. Perhaps, you should be under the patronage of Raphael rather than Michael." Dr Hernández  offers enthusiastically as he checks her vital signs for the 100th time. 

"Can you get word to my friend Diego, at the orphanage? He will be worried I'm either dead or the new daughter in a do-gooder family, either way he should know where I am. Sister Frances won't tell anyone, anything." Ava asks in Spanish relieved to realise it was getting easier to talk. 

"Your accent is unusual, to add to a list of mysteries and enigmas." Dr Hernández  enthuses with a gentle tilting of her head. 

"Not so strange. Dead American mother. Irish 'caretaker.' and orphans from all over different parts of Spain. Plus, we were only able to what old TV. Diego?" Ava asks impatiently, her cooperation having definite limits. 

"Miss Beatrice is arranging all the details, including soothing the children at Saint Michaels. You couldn't have fallen at the feet of a more efficient and focused young woman." the doctor replies reassuringly. 

"She doesn't like me very much; I wasn't too enthusiastic about salvation." Ava offers flippantly. 

"I'm sure that's not true. Beatrice is here for a status update at least once or twice a week." Hernández disagrees conversationally. 

"I'm definitely mucking up her special schedule for sure." Ava finds that prospect more amusing than anything. 

Practicalities of A Miracle 

Ava Silva prides herself on not being stupid. 

She will freely admit her lack of education and the sheltered nature of her upbringing. Even the faint memories of her time with her mother revolve around hiding from everyday life. Still, Ava despises it when people talk down to her or any other children and Saint Michaels. Being an orphan doesn't automatically decrease someone's value as a human being, even on Spain's streets where orphans and struggling children are more common than other places. 

"We are so lucky that Beatrice thought to bring you here. Few other places could keep everything stabilised for so long."

"Isn't boasting high up there in the ranks of sins?"

"Merely the truth, young Ava. Many miles separate the centres of excellence in Spain." the doctor disagrees."

Ava is in danger of feeling stupid and vulnerable now, and the feeling is making her angry. It does not help matters that she has next to no control over anything from her moments to how much of the (admittedly delicious) food she eats. They give her plenty of books and entertainment but little useful and practical information that a person can use to form a plan. Ava thinks about running away; she has plenty of methods from when she used to dream of escaping the orphanage. These people have extremely low opinions of her ability to sneak and deceive. 

At the same time, she wants to know what all the fuss is about before leaving. Maybe the nuns were right, and her curiosity will get her into the ultimate form of trouble. Not that anybody could imagine these particular circumstances coming into play. A distant part of her brain also wants to see Beatrice again and see if she can provoke more banter. Ava doesn't come across interesting people every day. 

"So are you trying to tell me I have been sick for the best part of a month, with a mysterious condition? An illness that nobody understands or knows how to treat? The junior doctors are calling me a miracle?" Ava isn't sure which question she wants answers for first. 

"There are a few more technical details, but that sums up the story rather neatly. Your body was failing, and then through no intervention, the healing began. You aren't 100%, but the most worrying symptoms are no longer detectable.”

Ava hasn’t had much experience with miracles but she can already tell she doesn’t trust them.

***

"Couldn't you pick a slightly less gloomy book, not that I don't enjoy the lives of the saints." 

Ava knows it is mean but ever since discovering that Beatrice is her unofficial keeper, the urge to find out more about the woman is overwhelming. One of her long confinement skills is the ability to fake sleep in an extremely convincing way. Few of the nuns could pick when she and Diego were completely ignoring curfew. Beatrice isn't so different from them in a way, more appealing to look at but the same general focus. 

"Well, I suppose it is a sign of progress that you are in a position to offer complaints and commentary. Your literary preferences were not part of the file." Beatrice says primly closing the book with a resounding thud. 

"It'll be surprising if they have my colour and height within the correct range. Saint Michaels aren't known for their organisational skills or particular attention to individual orphans." Ava offers sarcastically. 

"I wasn't talking about that administrative horror show; I was making better systems than that at 11. We have records on all potential applicants, including their preferences."

"That's not comforting on either count. You were organising stuff as a kid?" Ava asks with genuine curiosity. 

"It made packing every few months far easier. There is nothing more valuable than information that is well structured and can serve people who need it." Beatrice replies with a level annoyance and frustration in her rejoinder. 

"Are you ready to impart some that knowledge on to me? We can start anywhere. Where the heck we are? Why am I being treated in a hospital that looks like a hotel? What possessed you to read to a prospective employee in a comma for two weeks straight?" Ava throws out the questions in rapid-fire. 

"17 days to be precise." Beatrice corrects quicky. 

"So not the point." Ava all but growls the words out. 

" The Order of Cruciform is an organisation that seeks to protect society from many evils in the world. Through a combination of physical training, extensive technological holdings, and knowledge from all over the world. Some people inherit particular abilities that are outside the norm and others that serve willing in other capacities. We believe that you are part of the few with inherent powers. The offer of an apprenticeship is genuine. You can read all the documentation at your leisure." Beatrice rattles the information off with an impressive lack of breathing. 

"You were planning on fitting all that life-altering information into one small plane right. Hate to break it to you, but there is little special about me. I'm no orphan who can sing beautifully and charm people. Or else somebody would have found me in the last decade?" Ava almost succeeds in keeping the hurt from her voice. 

"It was going to be a long flight. There is no mistake in your identity. Nobody could find you if they didn't know you existed." 

"Look, will I still get a decent food supply?" 

"Of course. What you have been given represents what all in order receive."

"Will you help me find a better place for Diego and the others? A real place, not just people who can fill out paperwork?" Ava asks sharply 

"It's already in the works with some of the best people in the field. Nobody else will suffer like that again." Beatrice says everything like it’s a solemn vow. 

"Will you help me figure out what this mystery illness is?"

"Absolutely. It's my first priority. It's unusual even amongst our parameters. Thanks to Dr Hernández’s excellent work we have plenty of data." Beatrice sounds enthusiastic now. 

"And if it turns out I am just an everyday orphan with no mystical powers, a disappointment of recessive genes or whatever. You will give me enough money and connections to find a job and recent an apartment without rodents." Ava's words are stony on this point. 

"That won't happen Ava..." Beatrice tries to start  a more compressive answer.

"Promise me or I and my miraculous organs walkabout of here.”

“I promise you, Ava Silva. Regardless of the outcome we will help you build a new life.”

Chapter Text

Sometimes the best map will not guide you

You can't see what's round the bend

Sometimes the road leads through dark places

Sometimes the darkness is your friend

Today these eyes scan bleached-out land

For the coming of the outbound stage.

Pacing the cage.

Pacing the cage."

Ava Silva plans to make use of the new situation unashamedly. 

Miracles at Saint Michael's are a common vocabulary. The nuns and caretakers are quite free with that word to describe many things, from a change in the weather to the infrequent times when one of their numbers found a home or placement. The quality of a new situation didn't matter that much, only the appearance of a successful orphanage. Ava was the miracle girl who survived the bad car crash, constant illness, and stubborn pride. The nuns and priest thought it miraculous that she reaches the age of nineteen. Naturally enough, they took most of the credit. The latest situation with Beatrice and her gang, not that exceptional, but it can be useful.  

Ava's priority is figuring out the mechanics of her body a physical space, now that she is intermittently deathly ill. Dr Hernández is willing enough to leave her in the custody of her wealthy jailers, as long as Ava comes back for regular check-ups. Ava likes the man because he doesn't talk to her and demonstrates basic exercises for strengthen and conditioning. There is no strength in her muscles, and the tenons are stiff, but Ava progresses a little more each day. 

The second priority on Ava's growing list is finding and horde resources. The place Beatrice and her 'sisters' call home is ridiculously opulent and reinforces that Ava is no in an entirely different part of Spain. Her hospital; bed pales in comparison to all the extra furniture, decorations and little luxuries. It is a relatively simple matter to start hiding items of clothing, maps, a cheap cell phone from the back of a draw and perishable foods. Enough orphans ran away that Ava knows exactly what the best options are for a life sleeping rough. 

The next item she looks for is knowledge of everything from the new city she is living in, to the other people who share this space with her. Suppose Ava is going to leave this place (voluntarily or involuntary). The basic information will be curial in keeping her out of trouble and off the map for anyone looking. She could get lucky and this new situation because something of a permanent problem, but if Ava knows anything, the odds are rarely if ever in her favour, miracle or not. 

"There are two types of evil and destruction that threaten the world and humanity, the supernatural and the natural. As with almost all things, there are cycles when each of these factors plays a central role. Our commitment is to address both sides of the proverbial coin, depending on which is the most imminent disaster. Beatrice is not a teaching, but she has the bearing of one. 

"What phase of the operation are we in now? Are regular terrible people destroying the planet or do these ones have horns and glowing eyes?" Ava asks without much hope of a straight forward answer. 

"There is some information that you will only be privy to when you finish the training. I am giving you a more general introduction." Beatrice sounds almost embarrassed this time. 

"Or I could look out the window and see if there are blinding comets in the sky, there were a few old diester movies on the TV at St. Michaels." it pleases Ava to know that she isn't entirely without cultural references, even though are out of date. 

Beatrice then goes through the basic books and history Ava might like to read, from her precious collection. Ava finds the pile more than a little intimidating, more reading material than anywhere in St Michael's or its partner sites put together. It feels strangely rewarding that these people have expectations of her abilities and absorb new information. There is no question that her education is too remedial or lacking to offer any insights. The words are basic but not at an insulting level.  

***

"So are you a language genius or something?" 

They are standing in the grand space that is Ava's bedroom while she is here. There are no personal items or decorations of any kind. However, the dresser is full of clothing, and there are plenty of blankets and natural light. So far, it is a definite win in comparison to her home for the last 12 years. Beatrice is talking adamantly to the movers who either Italian or French; Ava isn't listening closely enough to make the distinction. 

"There are more ways to acquire knowledge than your current circumstances, Miss Silva. Some of us do have any supernatural advantage to speak of, as I explained when we first met." 

"Hey, easy with the judgement, Library Girl. I didn't ask to be a freak of nature that makes the doctors lose their minds. It's you that picked me up out of the dirt, remember?" Ava hunches her shoulders in a defensive posture. 

"Well don't take everything for granted then and presume that everything comes with the wave of a magical finger. You would be a fool to think things will be that easy, for anyone here." Beatrice sounds suddenly earnest and fierce. 

"To take something for granted, don't I need to understand what is happening fundamentally? Much less what may or may not occur to me." Ava is proud of herself for remembering that word. 

Beatrice glowers at her before turning her attention back to shifting the furniture and lamps into a suitable location. Ava supposes she should think about such things, but she cannot summon the energy to care. Developing an attachment to material possessions is too quickly is asking for trouble. There is no guarantee that her miracle status will last beyond the next training. Besides her companion seems to be on a roll and Ava likes watching her work. 

"I know, please forgive me. Sometimes the supernatural elements are frustrating to me, especially when learning and gaining new skills. My scores on the leadership psych evaluation were never overly high." Beatrice waves a self, deprecating smile. 

Ava Silva blinks at the unexpected nature of the apology. People don't generally apologise to nameless orphans in dark corridors. Maybe true power involves being able to influence the behaviour of other people. This beautiful and powerful woman wants her approval at least in this one moment. There is no obvious reply to this silent request; Ava shifts her weight uncomfortably. Beatrice doesn't expect anything to happen. She turns her attention back to the books, waiting for Ava to sit next to her. 

***

"So you want me to train to be some mystical fighting warrior when last month I could barely move outside my room?" Ava doesn't bother to hide her laugher.

Beatrice scowls at her before returning her attention to the ridiculously healthy-looking salad that is on her plate. Ava is still struggling not to stare at the share variety and quantity of food on display in this complex. All the staff are polite and friendly, and nobody questions her when she goes back for seconds or thirds. Her supply of cans and packets is getting comfortably large. She wants to keep some of the cookies for the youngest orphans when she sees them next. 

"You seem to have a unique talent for taking everything I say and turning it into an oversimplification. There are plenty of steps into now and any potential official assignment." Beatrice doesn't sound too annoyed at this stage.

"You enjoy using far too many words and historical references. If it weren't a Catholic saint or catechism, it wouldn't exactly be encouraged; neither was talking for that matter." Ava works to keep her voice light. 

Somehow it is getting easier to talk about her experiences, getting familiar with having people who have an interest in learning about who Ava is as a person. She isn't simply another number which is draining resources from an orphanage with no budget. Nobody seems to react with obvious horror when she talks, but the pity is almost worst. Ava thinks she hangs around Beatrice so much because she refuses to tiptoe around the reality of such things. 

"Doesn't sound far off my experience at boarding school. Although I am thankful to say, our nuns were strict about cleanliness and fresh air. Saint Michaels represents the worst of such places." Beatrice confesses softly, sounding truly sorrowful.

"When did you get to Spain? Did you go to school in Britain?" Ava asks quickly trying to change the subject. 

"My parents were and are influential diplomats. I can call many places home, in the technical sense. It wasn't until coming here and meeting Mary and the others that I found a place. It helps to speak multiple languages well when your family is on display, it wasn't easier to learn that disobey." Beatrice sounds as if she is speaking to someone in the distance. 

***

"Woah, is that me on those screens?" Ava hates sounding like a kid, but she can't help it.

"Yes in a manner of speaking. Despite your insistent commentary, you are doing rather well, physiologically speaking." Beatrice says primly. 

Ava catches the faint undertone that implies that other factors of her existence are less than desirable. While she has met other people in this place, Beatrice still acts as her minder and guide for all things in her new. Ava can't say that she has a routine or even a good sense of things, but Beatrice is as consistent as the sunrise. Today they are back at the private hospital grounds, that have some connection to the main complex. Ava was too out of it last time to pay attention to any of the details. 

"So you a doctor too? Is there anything that you don't know?" Ava glares at the other woman playfully. 

"An Archivist in our organisation needs a rudimentary understanding..."

Dr Hernandez's entrance prevents Beatrice from going into full-on lecture mode; Ava cannot work out if she is relieved or disappointed. Her doctor certainly makes a pleasant change from the medical services at her former home. He is so excited by her progress and does everything he can to make her feel at ease. Money introduces you to professionals who have people skills it seems. Ava almost feels bad about stealing basic first aid, but it didn't last long. 

"Hello, Ava. The scans and tests indicate that our interventions are working wonders or more actually. Your body is being wonderful and being kind enough to let medical science come along for the ride. Is there anything you would like to report? Any changes that are making a difference?" he sounds somewhere eager and fearful.

"Well all my limbs are moving in the right direction, so that is progress. Nothing exciting or on the miracle scale, sadly. Have you heard anything about the others from St Michael? They promised you would look after them, without magic or whatever." Ava cannot help but glare. 

"I can't reveal any specific information, but let me reassure you again. The children of the orphanage and any other facilities are receiving top-rate care." Dr Hernandez holds up a placating hand. 

"Maria has that bad cough that gets bad in both winter and spring. Diageo catches everything going around and struggles to keep rich foods down, you need to watch him carefully." Ava reveals earnestly running through all the information she knows. 

"Ava, I know you have no reason to trust the medical system, but we have all the tools available to treat Maria, Diageo and all the others. They are relatively simple problems that were allowed to get severe and worry you, as their honorary big sister, am I right?" the words are gentle and surprisingly soothing. 

"The walls are very thin, it’s impossible not here every cough or frantic trip to the bathroom." Ava tries to remain stoic, but she feels tears pricking the back of her eyes. 

"If it would make you feel any better, there is no reason we can't start arranging visits and phone calls. A sense of familiarity will do the other children the world of good." the doctor is polite enough to ignore her tears. 

"Even if I am Ava, the miracle freak?" Ava wipes away at the tear. 

"You are still Ava Silva, their brave defender, nothing will change that." 

"There was little I could do in practice; they still got sick and heartsick for relatives that would never come back." Ava dismisses the praise. 

"You did everything available to you. Now that there is more on the table, you and the rest of our time can do offer more Diageo and everyone else." Dr Hernandez offers with an encouraging smile. 

Ava manages to force a smile, but she isn't entirely sure how she feels about being part of this strange team that speak in riddles all the time. Somehow Beatrice's smile of quick reassurance makes the prospect seem less daunting. She can always hound her guide for more specific information about her roommates at a later time. Beatrice is surprisingly open to negotiation if you find the right bait, mainly Ava sitting down and following instructions for the day. 

***

"So are you something like royalty in this cult than?"

"Don't be so insulting or naive. A) we are not a cult and B) Britain only has one barely functional monarchy; none of them looks like me. 

Ava doesn't mean for her lame joke to be insulting, but she feels Beatrice stiffen beside her. It's impossible not to hear rumours about the British family, and Ava Silva is continuously trying to overhear everything she can. Her particular fascination with her reluctant guide is hard to explain.

They are walking through the grand room that serves as the library. The wrap-around shelves of books and banks of computers are Beatrice's domain. As the chief Archivist for the organisation (a word Ava looks up later), it's her job to keep track of the past, present and future. Organisation the children at the orphanage seem like child's play in comparison to all this work. Ava is afraid to touch anything for fear of recking the perfect order. 

"Don't your roots go back 800 years in this place or something?" Ava repeats the gossip without much thought, 

"A wild oversimplification of a complex situation." Beatrice doesn't sound angry, but her voice is far from happy. 

"Better a million relativities than a street orphan with incomplete and fake records to her name." Ava declares drily. 

"There are more than one way to be abandoned." Beatrice almost hisses out the words as if they are painful to keep in her mouth, like a confession that burns the soul. 

Ava doesn't want to admit that she doesn't know any other family type, then her roommates and the new ones that cycle in and out. She doesn't wish to Beatrice to see that she doesn't remember anything about having a mother or father; the vague impressions of love and comfort might be wishful thinking. Beatrice has family issues a mile wild, but it is hard to conceptualise such things when there is nothing but a blank slate. There are no more branches to add beyond Ava Silva on the family tree; even her mother's name might not be an official one. 

"Well, everybody seems to like you here, it counts for something." Ava repeats the platitude almost instinctively. 

"There is a different being liking and tolerating. I am extremely capable at my job, that all that matters." Beatrice insists in a tone that is almost painfully brittle. 

Ava thinks she is wrong in multiple ways, but she doesn't have the words to offer an objection. Maybe hanging out with Beatrice with give her the language of friendship to go along with everything else. 

***

"So what's my timeframe? Is everybody going to be expecting me to walk on water by the end of the first week?" Ava asks half-seriously. 

Beatrice is completing her seemingly never-ending tour of the grounds. Ava is just prideful enough not to say that this is perhaps the most she walked in her life. The entirety of Saint Michaels would fit into a corner of the place. Ava will sound like enough of a provincial loser when these people place actual expectations on her. It's best to shut up and learn as much as possible. There are at least eight escape points if there supernatural security. 

"Nothing so drastic as that. I wasn't joking when I said my employer wants to make amends for mistakes of the past. Recovery is the top priority. Your friend Diego is keep to talk to you as soon as you are up to it." Beatrice dutifully reports. 

"Out of curiosity, do you ever joke? I'll be cool to chat with Diego." Ava tries to coax a smile but only receives a glare. 

"You can use the cell phone you stole." Beatrice says snappy without sparing the other woman a glace. 

"Are you going to turn me in or put a black mark against my name?" Ava asks cautiously. 

It is always useful to know the punishment structure for this shadowy organisation. Saint Michaels and the nuns were relatively easy to figure out after the first few years. People didn't want to interact with individual children overly much, so it wasn't difficult to stay under the radar; Unless you were an oddity like Ava, an American child on their doorstep with few papers. Unfortunately, Ava was stubborn, prideful and didn't respond to the harshest corrections. The only redeeming feature was that she has a knack for soothing the younger ones to sleep when they are new. 

"We aren't at a boarding school, and you aren't under any official capacity anyway. I am still spending half the day untangling your official documentation; penmanship is a dying art even in the monastic orders. Don't do anything to disrupt the mission and no one will bother you." Beatrice isn't nearly as casual as the words suggest. 

"Right now, I could wander into a mission without knowing it; you aren't exactly forthcoming with information." Ava points out practically. 

"That won't happen; I am here for a reason. Such an occupation wouldn't be my first choice. You are several centuries younger than the people I spend most of my time with, more opinionated too." Beatrice replies firmly. 

Ava shouldn't feel so much vague hurt at the comment about her useful or difficulty. She only has one or two friends; it's difficult to say what the process is meant to feel like, a small part of her hopes that they get the chance to learn how to do the friendship thing better. Over the next few weeks, she will meet more people and future 'sisters', but there is something particular about her first contact in this new world. 

"That was something approximating a joke if only a bad one. My social skills are fairly poor. There is a reason they relocate me to the theoretical side of the operation." Beatrice rushes on sounding self-conscious suddenly. 

"Well, in the last few weeks I met more people than I have seen in the past decade, maybe we can figure things out together, at least for the next little while." Ava tries for a peace making gesture. 

"Somehow you manage to seem charming and engaging all the same. Maybe you are magic after all?" Beatrice is still stiff but manages to smile. 

***

"Don't worry, you'll find your place, everyone finds things intimidating at first.

Ava Silva realises somewhere along the way that likes this woman who is her jailer. In their brief time together Beatrice is a surprisingly calming influence in these uncertain times. Ava doubts this reality will stay so civil once more structure and routine to her day beyond simply healing. Or when her mysterious 'benefit' factor decides to emerge from the shadows and explain himself. Despite the fact, she is cheerfully 'stealing' from the place and spying on people. Ava doesn't want to get Sister Beatrice into real trouble, even if it is way too fun to tease her. 

"With all due respect, it's highly unlikely we have the same notions of intimation, Beatrice. You are all kinds of fierce, my new friend." Ava says, keeping lightless. 

"Fierceness is teachable; it's practically mandatory here. You will learn the fundamentals when you start to feel better. Father wants to me you before things start progressing. Don't bother running away until then, please? Chasing you around wouldn't be the highlight of my week. " Beatrice offers her a weak smile in defence. 

"Well than take me to your leader and we can figure out why everyone is so crazy about my organs." Ava makes a show of ushering her new friend out the door. 

Ava Silva finds irrational satisfaction in making Beatrice smile, even if she does so reluctantly. She was far too weak to be a bully in the orphanage, so her survival strategy was making friends and learning from them, even when her body was failing. Her new life won't be so bad with a few people watching back, no matter how strange or obsessive about rules Beatrice turns out to be. 

"For your information, I was once a champion at Orienteering so I will find you if you run away." Beatrice says conversationally. 

"I don't even know what that is, but it doesn't surprise me you are good at it." Ava confesses while shaking her head. 

Ava has no intention of betraying this woman's trust or making trouble; at the same time, there is no way she is going to trust a mystical science and the promise of service life. Nobody came to see her or any other orphans until her organs could start doing strange things; everything could go away again in a heartbeat. Over a decade at St Michael's is a long time to wait for the salvation that never comes. Her new room may have softer sheets and better food, but the principle is the same. 

The Archivist will get sick of the 'Miracle Girl' soon enough. 

Chapter Text

"I used many times to touch my own chest and feel, under its asthmatic quiver, the engine of the heart and lungs and blood and feel amazed at what I sensed was the enormity of the power I possessed. Not magical power, but real power. The power simply to go on, the power to endure, that is power enough, but I felt I had also the power to create, to add, to delight, to amaze and to transform." 

― Stephen Fry, Moab Is My Washpot

The leader of this crusade for goodness is oddly disappointing. 

The man looks like a non-descript priestly figure, tall with grey hair and glasses, although he is not wearing the traditional uniform. Like everybody in this complex, he is rich and spent money on everything from his watch to socks. Whatever this man does, he is getting a sizable wage. Ava hopes he doesn't start preaching about God saving the poor lambs in need of shepherds. 

"Sir, you wanted to meet with Ava Silva. She is looking forward to joining the team." Beatrice lies smoothly." 

"Ava, it gladdens me to hear that you and the other orphans are recovering well." he says warmly. 

"Thanks for waiting roughly a thousand days to make the intervention, Sir." Ava says sharply, ignoring Beatrice sharp intake of breath. 

"You have every right to be furious with every condescending person who promises to make things easier for you, including me and our operation. All we can do is work hard to prove that things will be different. Aberrations like Saint Michaels will not start up again." the leader holds up a hand to stop Beatrice from protesting. 

"The free food and spacious bedrooms are pretty great, but I will start to believe you when I see how you treated the average orphans who have nothing special and a boatload of problems to recommend them." Ava says cautiously. 

"Well, you are welcome to visit the new facilities at any time." Vincent invites with a confident smile. 

As a point of pride, Ava refuses to think about this man beyond the energy it takes to tease Beatrice. She may be an orphan, but she is waiting for her movie ending to find a rich, kindly relative. Those stories are only to confront the younger kids and stop the worst of the night terrors. When you age out of whatever passes for care but the state, you lose grip on the fantasy Six and twelve years old; Ava needed this man far more than the nineteen-year-old woman. Ava doesn't have anything together yet, but she knows she isn't willing to absolve this man of his guilt. 

***

Standing 

Ava Silva is falling into a routine as her knowledge grows. 

If there is one thing that Saint Michael's Orphanage teaches a person, it's the crashing certainty of everyday routines. The nuns' frame this work as connecting the children closer to their Holy Father; Ava knows that it is more likely a combination of poor budgeting and a lack of motivation for anything else. That's the one thing she wants for Diego and the others more than anything; it's the opportunity to do more than waste time waiting for the next feeding of bland meals with questionable nutritional. 

"What are you going to make me do with this shiny new clean bill of health? It's a rare fit." Ava asks, waving the piece of paper with a triumphant smile. 

"Very little, more conditioning and stamina work. We cannot have people collapsing in the field or even be unhealthy in the office. Fitness and survival is the first priority." Beatrice explains as they begin their second loop of the extensive gardens. 

"Who knew saving the world from mortal and supernatural sources involves such regular human activities. Shouldn't your 'Miracle Girl' get a sexy montage or something like those action movies?" Ava whines almost pleadingly. 

"Miracles don't belong to anybody but God, and I'm guessing you don't want to supercharge your physiology until it is a quivering mass of unrecognisable and misfiring nerve signals?" Beatrice replies as she tries for patience. 

"I'm sure you will find a way to make the prospect at least interesting, which is a big thing for a street rat." Ava says as an almost compliment. 

Ava Silva is too prideful to admit that this news is something of a relief. Her body may have miraculous properties, but that doesn't mean she suddenly has superpowers. If anything, orphanages like Saint Michaels encourage residents to be peaceful and docile. The new novices or junior nuns who are enthusiastic about physical education and 'enrichment rarely last longer than a few months. Change is almost the biggest sin in a place like that; no wonder so many were sick. 

***

Balancing 

"Well done, your Spanish and English are coming along in equal measure."

"You mean for a barely literate orphan who lucked out with organs and a guilty millionaire?" Ava quips before realising her mistake. 

"No, I mean for a woman whose fundamental education is almost criminally neglected by lazy teachers and lazier state budgets. Your retention of knowledge is excellent as while as basic linguistics." Beatrice enthuses happily. 

"Somebody needed to teach the younger ones, who weren't going to make it to the pretty adoption videos it becomes my job by default. Memorising some of the passages become easier than asking for repairs or new ones." Ava explains with a sad and shy smile. 

"That's wonderful but don't think a sweet story is going to get you out of extra chores for that back talk." Beatrice instructs, gesturing to the lines. 

"You would hate listening to some of the others talk about themselves, Beatrice; you'll be designing boot camps that would last years." Ava quips with a quirk of her lips. 

"Well, it is a good thing that I'm only in charge of supervising you, and for a fixed period." Beatrice agrees with solemnity. 

Ava sighs with mock disappointment but dutifully begins reciting the lines again. Beatrice has a strong moral code, especially compared to some of the other team members. The British woman would let her burn the place down before she'd let Ava speak badly about herself or even joke about her humble origins. 

Ava knows she isn't as dumb as the orphanage testing claims, but it's nice to great a chance to prove herself. Being a miracle girl or something like it comes with a depressing amount of paperwork. Ava is self-conscious about her hear childish handwriting, but it is getting a workout these days. She develops the habit of writing while she is standing or leaning, getting familiar with functioning muscles. Beatrice indulges this new quirk without commenting, but the other woman does have particular feelings about her posture. 

"It's strange being in a body that something close to reliable. I can stand on one leg and almost balance; my legs don't ache and twitch at the end of every day. Even the kindest nun couldn't get me past basic physical education." Ava points her body through a series of tasks to demonstrate. 

"Even harder to break the mindset that your body is indeed unreliable mess?" Beatrice asks quietly as she comes to watch over the movement nervously. 

"Something like that or so Dr Hernandez tells me." Ava whispers agreeably. 

***

Walking 

Ava likes the feeling of walking. 

"So are you ever going to tell me what is going on with my body or is it all a grand mystery still?" Ava asks the variation of the same topic.

"I am not the archivist of all knowledge, including the particulars of your situation. Now that you are completely healthy, we can ramp up the testing and planning. I know that patience isn't one of your strongest suits, but I continue to ask for a little more." Beatrice looks almost pleadingly. 

Beatrice seems to think it is her mission to familiarise Ava with every inch of this impressive lands. Ava complains, but she likes the predictability of one foot over the other. There is a certain security in knowing in learning every centimetre of the complex. This place is a small section of a wider and wealthier Spain, with endless resources and brightness. Ava can't even think about her healing and recovery cost, never mind her insistence on looking after everybody else. 

"Whatever, what I said to Vincent is true, I'll stay for a while and get my feet under me, literally. There probably isn't much of a market for a 'miracle girl' with zero concepts of their 'powers' and even less life experience, I'll wait a decade or two before try waitressing, I think", Ava muses thoughtfully. 

"It would be their loss if they don't learn to appreciate your unique brand of humour and outlook. However, you can find other ways to serve if that is your inclination." Beatrice comments as they round the corner of the garden. 

Ava wishes she could get a clear read of the woman, her walking buddy, amongst other things. Ava annoys her more than anything, but at the same time, Beatrice is the fiercest protector. Beatrice fills the walk with news and information about Vincent, her work, and her passion for books. Ava has a feeling that Beatrice is the type of person who would say that being an archivist is her dream job when other people talk about wanting to be movies stars. 

***

Running 

"Some of our families have been in service for generations, enduring all the changes in technology and society." Beatrice has genuine pride in her voice. 

"Let me guess, Mary and Lilith are from the 'you are the chosen one' lines?" Ava guesses with no small amount of snarky belief. 

"What makes you say that? our current teams come from a diverse backgrounds, reflecting the needs of society." Beatrice responds stiffly. 

"Yes, I know. Reclusive millionaires and billionaires from each century or so funds efforts to save the world from secular and supernatural evils, starting with team members." Ava parrots mimicking Vincent's voice. 

"I would appreciate it if you could refrain from mocking my life's world every chance you get, especially as we are working so hard to include you under unusual circumstances." Beatrice says with an eye roll. 

"You are trying, the others not so much." Ava points out honestly. 

"Give everybody else a chance, too; newbies with connections to the boss and unknown features are still a relative rarity. These have been difficult since Shannon's death, especially for Mary." Beatrice whispers, her voice solemn and quiet. 

"You leave the violent and sudden deaths off the shining broaches, huh? It seems like she was an amazing person." Ava matches the tone eve while making a poor joke. 

"She was, and the two of you are both similar and starkly different. The rest are adjusting to meet new people again." Beatrice explains with a faraway look. 

"You don't have that problem?" Ava wonders out loud, almost absently. 

"An archivist worthy of the title would never pass up the change to work with you, Ava Silva, and don't you dare make a crack about orphans." Beatrice warns. 

Ava is still working on vague the assumption that she has accidentally become a cult member. Not that the notion affects her experiences from day today. She suspects that this information is impressive to some degree, but it just seems strange and abstract. The pieces of these puzzles are coming together slowly, but then something or someone will go and start speaking a whole new language and mess everything up. 

***

Endurance 

"Hey Ava, how are you settling in?" Camila asks with a friendly smile. 

"Well, nobody is building a shine to my kidney yet, and my bedroom ceiling doesn't leak, so I guess that is a good start to any day. How is real work of saving the day?" Ava returns the question opting for a friendly tone. 

"You aren't expecting anyone to build a shine to your kidney or spleen, are you? If so, Beatrice needs to work on her introduction pep talk. Did she get stuck on legends again? Camila asks affectionately. 

Ava isn't entirely sure how to take the question, much less answer it with the underlying friendly overture. However, she shuffles over on the garden bench so that Camilia can sit. She is spending her time moving between Beatrice's library and various testing sites. The other team, possible cult members, circle her a wide arch with varying degrees of hostility. That's nothing new; the only difference with this peeking order is that there are fewer fights about food and these basic survival tools. 

Being a miracle has long periods of boredom where absolutely nothing happens. Magical organs aren't magical all the time, especially when Ava is healthy. In theory, Ava should be enjoying the downtime, but she is thriving, having both the energy and space to move; it seems a shame to waste it. Normally she has this section of the garden to herself so bumping into the least hostile one is a bonus of sorts?. 

"The supernatural elements are being surprisingly quiet, and at least in the regions we are responsible for, there are other ways to serve. The turning of the seasons makes little difference to some suffering in Spain." Camila explains with a shrug. 

"So Vincent sends you around the place looking for homeless to feed, in between hunting the devil? Beatrice did explain it, but I was in the middle of a full fainting episode at the time." Ava asks, filming a little self-conscious. 

"It's more deliberate do that, we do a careful distribution of wealth and people where it is most needed, think Unicef with Swords, sorcery and a series of unique algorithms. At the moment the forces is feeding and housing families." Camille reveals with an element of pride in her voice. 

"While chatting about the new girl with all mystery?" Ava teases with a speculating look. 

"Mainly we are waiting for clear information about you and when we are going to get a new member?" Camila says with uncertainty in her voice. 

Ava cannot answer the second question either; she has no idea how long she will remain in Beatrice's training and care brand. Hopefully, she won't be spending more time with Vincent and his connection with her mother and background. Things are likely to get harder or more challenging, but there is no measuring for team uniforms or anything. 

***

Rhythm

"This sounds whack but one of the things I don't know how to do, is sleep." Ava whispers the words quietly as they sit together in one of the lounges areas drinking hot chocolate. 

"Why do you think that is, Ava? is there anything that we can do, to make things easier?" Beatrice asks quietly, looking none the worst for being up at 2 a.m. 

"Almost a decade sharing a room with kids and a steady stream of different orphans, I think it is the quiet that bugs me, gives me far too much time to chase my thoughts, don't have the makings a new princess", Ava explains with a sheepish shrug. 

"Come with me?" Beatrice says something between a command and question. 

Ava watches as Beatrice reaches and grabs one of her books and a small machine before returning to Ava's bedroom, fortunately at the far end of the corridor away from the others. Beatrice is the most unlikely confidant of the bunch. The taller archivist doesn't seem to enjoy being with people overly much. She certainly appears to regret talking on Ava as a charge. At the same she is willing to listen in the quiet moments and when the darker thoughts start to clumber for attention. Ava is starting to sleep better in the big bed, but there are still moments in the early hours. 

"Get into bed again. I'll read out loud until you fall asleep; my tales of heroic nuns and champions for justice did the trick last time. A white noise machine may help if we set it up right." Beatrice explains as she places the machine on the bedside table. 

"Why do you like to read so much? Most people our age are in the world of online reading?" Ava asks, already starting to feel sleepy as she buries down further in the sheets. 

"The weight of real books is comforting in my hands. Books help me escape the worst of the world, both here and back at home." Beatrice explains as she cracks open the book. 

"What do you..." Ava begins, but the other one hushes with a look. 

Beatrice begins reading from a fantasy novel; apparently, it is feminist and empowering or something like that; Ava can barely remember her time in hospital. Ava has a sneaky suspicion that the romance will between the knight and her female squire, but she doesn't voice her opinion. Beatrice is nervous about saying such things out loud. The taller woman doesn't have the most animated voice, but it is strangely comforting, and her British accent is soothing. She could read the phonebook at it would have similar magical powers. 

"The moment happens just before sunrise..." Beatrice doesn't get past the first paragraph. 

***

"Don't hurt Beatrice, New Girl; she has been through a lot." the voice comes from the other side of the room. 

"Isn't going through a lot practically this group's motto. Fearless Leader spends enough time waxing lyrical about saving the world twice over." Ava quips as she carefully lays down a book. 

Ava Silva would never admit it, but the small group of girls, with Mary in front, is particularly intimidating. She would face down anyone of any size back in the orphanage, but these women are fighting machines. Ava looks and feels like Bambi in comparison, getting used to having all of her limbs work in the same direction. Her muscles aren't entirely reliably yet, but Ava feels them tense in anticipation of fight or flight, not that she is good at either option yet. 

 She is 95% sure there is some rule against them beating a new member, but that 5% doubt is enough. It is also logical to assume that universal hierarchies exist; the new girl will not get the leeway if violence breaks out. There is a feeling of the cliques from high school in the American movies. It wasn't nearly as fun as it looks like on TV. 

"You don't wiggle your way out of this with sarcastic quips; we have serious concerns about you spending so much time with Beatrice." Lilith snaps, clearly losing whatever little patience she still possess. 

"Did I miss the part where Beatrice is grown-up, free to make her own choices and friends? Doesn't she have one of big wig jobs here, with all the fancy records?" Ava quips, definitely sitting up and straightening her back. 

"Beatrice is brilliant and one of the strongest people here, but she doesn't need her emotions on the line." Camila says, her voice more gentle and something like friendly. 

"Hey, I didn't ask her take training me as a personal mission, she can hide behind her books for all I care." Ava insists while raising her hands in defence. 

Ava would rather return to Saint Michael's than admit how much the words sting. It's all too reminiscent of the nuns bemoaning her influence on the other children that she would corrupt their little hearts. Never mind the fact Ava was frequently far too sick to do anything beyond listening to Diego tell stories. Her origin stories may be a mystery, but everybody in her life, including this new variation, seems to have firm ideas about who she is and her motivations. 

"Beatrice..." Sister Mary begins seemingly at a loss for words, which doesn't seem to be a common situation. 

"Beatrice has been making her own decisions for close to a decade and has the British emancipation papers to prove it. Come along, Ava. We need to continue your training. The fine weather will not last much longer at this time of year." Beatrice commands briskly as she sweeps into the room. 

Everybody else freezes at the prospect of having their conversation overheard. It reminds Ava of the late-night whispering sessions between the orphans, hoping that the nuns were asleep. Beatrice doesn't look offended or hurt, but the notion, she sweeps past her friends and stops beside Ava expectantly. Ava feels her heart clench with admiration at how easily she handles the moment. She somehow manages to look striking in casual exercise gear. 

"Beatrice..." Camile tries again, looking genuinely sheepish. 

"Ava, we are on a firm deadline. You didn't help yourself by insisting that Vincent is the enemy of the piece. There are still many meals to go before you have the level of influence to make independent decisions." Beatrice gestures impatiently, her dark eyebrows coming together in a fierce scowl. 

Ava moves almost without thinking. After all, that is an extremely polite way of saying that their 'Miracle Girl' is baring strong enough to make it around the block without fainting. 

Chapter Text

"It is an absolute human certainty that no one can know his own beauty or perceive a sense of his own worth until it has been reflected back to him in the mirror of another loving, caring human being." 

― John Joseph Powell, The Secret of Staying in Love

Beatrice is the biggest hypocrite. 

There are plenty of gaps in Ava Silva's knowledge, but she knows plenty about the language of disproval. The sisters enjoy announcing her catalogue of many sins, including that hypocrisy. Sometimes she thinks they make up bible verses for the sake of having something to lecture children about, or at least scowl in rage. However, Ava will never get desperate enough to read the source material to figure that out. Still, she cannot help staring at the tall, willowy woman getting on her last nerve. 

"You know you don't get to lecture me about 'taking care of myself, not when you barely sleep. I here you pacing in the hallways." Ava snaps peevishly. 

Immediately Ava regrets the words. She doesn't care what her new keeper does with her time. But, unfortunately, it looks like the comment makes her wince before her expression turns carefully stony. Ava feels bad for causing such a retreat, but she never was one for apologies; it's too close to vulnerability. So they stand there looking at each other for more moments than is strictly comforting or comfortable. Strangely Ava doesn't feel the instinctive need to look away. 

"I am responsible for making you as healthy as possible before you become a full member of the training core. You talk a big game about wanting options, resources. You will not get a better opportunity than what we provide, including dictates about regaining a good sleeping rhythm." Beatrice's voice is stiff in full lecture mode. 

"So you were lying to me when you said your family line was human, without the fancy magical powers?" Ava challenges without knowing why she cares. 

"Of course not. There are books detailing my family lineage . I don't see how the two points relate to each other?" Unfortunately, Beatrice is not the type of person who enjoys confusion. 

"So you plan to sleep sometime after the round of saving the world? or go grey exceedingly quickly in death by a thousand real paper cuts?" Ava challenges, crossing her arms in defiance. 

"It's not your job to worry about such things. Part of our commitment in doing this work is long, unsociable hours." Beatrice explains, her voice turning gentle. 

"I get that, but the others seem to get a thrill out of being warriors for the people or at least an excuse to beat people up. It's nowhere near as glamorous to be in the library all day." Ava sounds genuinely confused. 

"People have different notions of than, that's all Ava. Let's go for a walk in the garden." Beatrice insists. 

Ava Silva isn't one to give up easily, least of all when she feels in the right. The truth is, being in the fresh air and nature of the expansive gardens is appealing. It couldn't be further from the dark and damp confines of the orphanage, but it is still quiet and away from the everyday business. The flowers and trees are bright and flush under expert care. Sometimes Ava wonders if she is another one of the exotic creatures in next of expert tending. It's better than being a neglected freak but has unique problems. 

***

She tries not to feel self-conscious. 

Ava supposes she is pleased to be entering the next stage of her new training. Instead of doing endless rounds of tests with the doctors, she is now under the guidance of other team members. Her reception is borderline hostile, but most of that seems to come from Mary and Lilith, who are both fearsome and moody. It's still a mystery why they resent her presence, but such reasoning doesn't make a difference in the end. Ava refuses to find this intimating. Although she receives far worse treatment and a lot less food elsewhere, Camila seems nice enough. Beatrice seems to be something of a leader and outsider at the same time. 

"Listen carefully if you ever want to be anything more than a liability to the rest of us." Mary lectures as they walk through the long corridors. 

"Mary, none of what going on is her fault. Stop taking out your anger of S..." Camila begins to say as the typical peacemaker. 

"Stop talking now." Mary whirls on the younger woman 

Ava wants to tell the hostile person that is training her that she doesn't care. There is too much going on in her life to take on anyone else's issues, with the possible exception of seeing Beatrice relax a little and keep something else to a regular schedule. Still, the more she learns about this group's 'real work', the easier it will be to make an escape and start a new life. If she can't make friends with Mary's cliche, she will settle for not being active enemies, even if that includes listening to the sales pitch. 

"The world faces many unique problems; there, it can take equally unusual solutions. So likewise, evil has many faces in both the mortal and supernatural realm. This entire complex is a tribute to facing each challenge with still skill and secrecy." Lilith takes over the narrative. 

"What are you working on at the moment. Everyone seems to be running around like the place is on fire." Ava asks as she looks around the banks of computers. 

"You the not the only anomaly we are facing at the moment, Ava Silva. Vincent will explain such things in more detail once you finish your training." Mary keeps her voice even with an effort. 

"Which will be when exactly? There are only so many times I can run without falling over the treadmill." Ava points out drily. 

Soon Ava's attention is lost to the many corridors of the ancient structure. She thought Beatrice was comprehensive with their many walks and history lessons. However, Mary has other ideas about what is most important to view. The training spaces become entirely different and more specialised the further down you move. Ava has never seen such a mixture of concrete, wood, stone and metal. She turns to ask Beatrice a question, only to realise she isn't there. 

***

Mary hates her with a passion. 

It's almost a relief that the other team members hate more and more with each passing day. At the orphanage, you could never trust the moments when the nuns were suddenly nice. Unfortunately, this rare occurrence meant that a prospective donor was coming, and they need charges to fall in line. The smiles and affectionate gestures never last beyond the visit and any follow-up. Of course, Ava didn't see this personally. The sisters never brought her out for 'active display.' She is learning fast how to survive in this new place. 

"You are giving away your intent with every move you make. The key is to use as little effort as possible without broadcasting your plans to the opponent. Anybody with functioning senses can see that you are faking to the right." Lilith yells as she wheels a long stick. 

"You are aware that I am still learning to walk like an adult, right?" Ava protests as she scrambles back to her feet. 

"Our responsibilities are not going to wait for you to be ready. Did Beatrice explain nothing to you during your long walks?" Mary asks as she paces the mats. 

"Give me a break; there are only so many ways you can say the world is ending. I'm a miracle girl, not a saviour. There is an important distinction between the two. Father Vinnie loves to talk about the achievements you guys made before any of us were even born." Ava argues sarcastically. 

Ava wants to get them off the topic of Beatrice and their walks. It seems to be yet another issue that the others have. Besides, she doesn't want her only almost friend in the place to get into trouble. Camila is sweat, but she seems like a follower of the stronger other two. Ava was the leader of the children and the orphanage, so she recognises the working of a hierarchy. 

"Try again Ava, that last round wasn't half bad." Camila offers an encouraging smile. 

Ava squares her shoulder and shoulders out her neck, waiting for her heart rate to settle into a steady pace. She may have magical and mysterious organs, but that doesn't make up for the years of training. She may have nothing to prove to these people, but she isn't going to give up easily

***

Ava is doing some things right and many things wrong.

She has no idea if she is failing or passing the hypothetical testing. She refuses to seek any further information from the leader. Ava feels a lingering curiosity about the connection to her mother. However, one of her survival skills is to ignore impossible dreams and desires. She is still physically weak, but her stamina is improving every day. This new, working body still feels like a stranger. Mary and Lilith refuse to go easy on her, even if the other woman knows the meaning of the term. 

Learning to swim is a very public exception to the rule. 

 Ava's favourite doctor and Beatrice assure her that there is no reason why she can't get in the pool, have a day at the beach or anything like that. Her healing body can withstand the pressure of new movements in the water. So part of being a member of this 'saving the world' gang involves being ready to work in all sorts of environments, including water. The indoor pool makes an ideal training ground even if Ava's hands start to ache. 

In theory, Ava likes the idea of exploring this new domain. However, trying to acquire some sense of rhythm in front of naturally athletic people is daunting. Mary gives up after the fourth or fifth time Ava panics. Ava sits shivering on the edge of the pool; Camilia wraps a fluffy towel around her shoulders. Finally, Ava is contemplating going for a run to ease out the disappointment of the day.

"You are thinking too much. Learning to work with gravity is hard enough for you, much less trusting the floating feeling." Beatrice explains as she sits beside her. 

"Sometimes I wonder if Mary wants to see me fail one of these many tests so that she and the others can have something to laugh at, the new girl screwing up again." Ava stares at her feet as they swirl in the water. 

"It's not like that. Mary and Lilith are still reeling from the last mission; the last thing they want to do is lose another person. But, believe it or not, they do care about you. She worries about being somebody with so little experience in the fold. There are worse things out there waiting for you than Mary's bark." Beatrice replies, a certain strain in her voice. 

"Let's hope we aren't going to face Loach Ness Monster or any of her siblings, right? Ava kicks the water in frustration. 

"Have one more go with me; let's aim for floating first, don't even think about moving or putting your head under; we can work on that over the weekend." Beatrice explains as she slips into the water. 

It's only that Ava realises that Beatrice is in a swimming suit; her long hair is in a braid down her back. Ava's first instinct is to say now; her bones are starting to warm again. Still, something is appealing about the challenging smile on Beatrice's face as she holds out her hand. So Ava lets herself be gently pulled into the pool again. Beatrice firmly holds her waist and keeps her steady while she gains her feet. 

"Let's just stay here for a while. I won't let go." Beatrice promises her voice solemn. 

Ava believes in little, but Beatrice's words are true. 

***

The leader is content to ignore her for the most part. 

Ava would be perfectly happy with this state of affairs if Beatrice weren't using the man as more of an excuse to avoid stopping. Ava tries to catch her British overseer at the beginning or even of a training day. No matter how early she gets up or late she stays, the taller woman always manages to be just on the way to an appointment. It gets to the point where even their luxurious surroundings cannot hide the signs of her tiredness. Beatrice eats her food like a robot seeking fuel. Even when the new chain restaurant opens nearby and everybody scrambles for takeaway orders. 

"Hey, I saved you some ultra-healthy salad with the dressing everybody is raving about; you seem like somebody who takes greenery over burgers the size of my face." Ava slides the plate over, hopefully. 

"Thank you. That was most thoughtful, I do prefer lighter meals at times like these." Beatrice agrees, spearing a gentle smile. 

Beatrice slams the heavy book shut with a responding slam. They are in a quiet part of the complex, and the sound echoes. It fascinates Ava that despite all the technology on display around them, Beatrice shuns those tools. Instead, her days revolve around paper and ink that most likely do not have an eBook equivalent. 

"What did the writings Sister Agatha ever do to you? So it isn't against your moral code to endanger the spine?" Didn't you lecture me for days about folding the pages of a cheap paperback?" 

"There are exceptions to every rule. That was my last promising lead in a rather vexing problem." Beatrice explains with a weary sigh. 

"Well than it is lucky I saved you one of these as well, Mary will make me to do extra laps for stealing it from her but it is probably worth it, or so the reviews say." Ava comments as she hands over a tall milkshake. 

"We must share this, I couldn't possible drink it on my own. The sugar would have my wired for days." Beatrice invites with something of a bashful smile. 

"You aren't afraid you will capture my mysterious paralysis and end up frozen in place with weak and wasting limbs?" Ava jokes, but there is a bitter undertone to it. 

"Don't be ridiculous; your conditions are the furthermost thing from communicable. I know your medical history to be certain on that particular point." Beatrice offers to share the strew as something of a token of proof. 

"Yeah, well your view would be in the minority where I am from; you were pretty impressive there with your demands and ultimatums, or what I can remember before fainting." Ava compliments, taking a long swallow. 

"No braver than you looking after your foster brothers and sisters, even though your health was failing." 

They sit there together in silence, sipping the milkshake between them. Ava wants to ask what question she is trying to answer. She wants to spend more time without the mystery more. Beatrice starts talking about her favourite places back home; the archivist seems to miss parts of Britain, if not her family. For once, Ava wishes she has a similar story to share. 

***

"What is going on with Beatrice?" 

Ava asks the question as she recovers from another intense sparring with the teammates that hate her the most. She loses, of course, but the humiliation isn't quite as comprehensive as it was last time. Mary is holding back, under pain of Beatrice's glare, but she isn't toying with Ava. A bullied orphan will always know the subtle distinctions of such things. She is at least confidant of protecting Diego the next time somebody is mean to him. 

"She is fine." Lilith says tonelessly. 

"I know you guys are all meant to be superheroes and feel no pain, but she is not doing so hot." Ava scowls at the two women while panting lightly. 

"You have been here barely a month and feel in a position to make such an assessment. Beatrice and her affairs are none of your concern; focus on getting your heartrate under control. ." Lilith instructs while sipping from her water bottle. 

"I may not know your secret handshake or the bat signal, whatever. But you can't tell me that living amongst books and eating less than the stray cats who the caretaker pretends to fed is good for her. Is there going to be an exam on heart structures and beats or something?" Ava feels her mixed accent slipping into the vowels. 

The other girls shift uncomfortably on the training mat. Ava wonders if she is the only person to notice the change in Beatrice. Perhaps the others expect her to the giver of all knowledge. For some reason, the idea of nobody monitoring such things gets under her skin; it's like what she feels for Diago and the younger children, only very different. It fits with this parallel universe she calls home right now. 

"Inprinting like a starling chick will not help your reputation here. Can you go for another round?" 

The dismissal stings more than she is willing to admit or process right now. Ava is one for making or keeping friends, but she likes spending time with her strange rescuer. Their nighttime routine of questions, challenging each other, become a highlight of this weird place, that and the excellent food and clean sheets. Ava Silva is not a person to try and fit or expect approval, but she doesn't want to lose the respect or at least the beginnings of something like it with her keeper. 

"Bring it on." Ava says with gritted teeth.

***

"Is the miracle going to expire? Is that what you are avoiding telling me?" Ava asks, her voice almost shaky. 

"What are you talking about?" 

"Look, it's been a great ride, and thanks for getting us out of there, but you can be honest with me. I keep telling you, people like me do not get long term salvation. Surely, there is something about street urchins in your millions of books?" Ava offers a casual shrug, but her posture is too stiff to be convincing.

She manages to capture Beatrice before she can hurry back to the library. Ava can't exactly say that the taller woman avoids her precisely; there are too many points in the day where their days' crossover. Beatrice is as vigilant as ever about monitoring her progress through the endless tests. It's the 'casual' conversations about textbooks and her beloved history that is missing. Ava Silva is not the type of person to long for or seek out social interactions, yet she is, seeking Beatrice's favour. No doubt the sister would have something to say about the presumption. 

"You are making even less sense than usual, can we talk about this in morning?" Beatrice asks while frowning at Ava. 

"When you have turn avoiding me into an art form? Surely there is a reason for all the late-night study and freak-out sessions. Also, ditching me at the feet of Grumpy and Grumpier with no warning was not cool." Ava scowls. 

"It is logical to progress your training elements to different team members.." Beatrice hunches defensively. 

"Stop that. I know there are serious gaps in my knowledge, but you aren't the first to give me the brush off. At least I can trust Mary and Lilith to be honest with me. " Ava snaps back, genuine hurt in her voice. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake. You are completely misinterpreting what is going on, Ava. I would never lie about something so serious. Your body and its new healing power are not on a timmer; even if it was, that wouldn't be something we would keep from you." Beatrice defends using an uncharacteristically gentle tone. 

"Your leader enjoys lying about my entire life; what makes you any different? All of you seem to follow him without question. Do you enjoy being his little shadow?" Ava clenches her fists in frustration. 

" I am nobody's shadow! Stop insulting me long enough to listen. All my long hours are trying to help you, even if being a prideful idiot doesn't make the prospect seem overly attractive. Come to the library, and things will make more sense." Beatrice promises, holding out her hand tentatively.

"If the end of our night ends with you sleeping for at least 7 hours, than we have a deal." Ava bargains with a soft smile. 

"You don't have any right to call anyone prideful, Beatrice." Ava grumbles, but she does follow. 

Beatrice stops and turns to Ava, reaching out and cradling her face. The touch is unexpected but also earnest, and Ava blinks in confusion before waiting to hear what Beatrice wants to say on the matter. Her heart rate speeds up, and there is no exercise to blame. Beatrice's hands a trembling slightly, and there are shadows underneath her eyes. 

"My professional pride means that I won't lie to you. There is no reason for you to trust anyone in authority, but it would be unconscionable to bring you here only to take it all away if you don't meet up to some standard. The new life of Ava Silva is here to stay." Beatrice whispers fiercely. 

They stay like that for several long moments. Ava fights the urge to protest when Beatrice steps back, gesturing down the corridor. 

Ava doesn't trust Beatrice or the strange feelings she inspires. There are too many times when the archivist was the chief secret keeper. However, a degree where people want you for a backstory that you can't remember and magical origins failed you for the first 18.5 years of life. Beatrice has a dry sense of humour and is fun to be around when she isn't lecturing about the limbic system or 17th-century history. However, even her lectures aren't so bad. 

The feelings may be strange, but they are far from unpleasant; ' tantalising' is the word that springs to mind from her Beatrice inspired new, every growing vocabulary. The Spanish somehow makes the notion less daunting. 

Chapter Text

"Write it on your heart

that every day is the best day in the year.

He is rich who owns the day, and no one owns the day

who allows it to be invaded with fret and anxiety.

Finish every day and be done with it.

You have done what you could.

Some blunders and absurdities, no doubt crept in.

Forget them as soon as you can, tomorrow is a new day;

begin it well and serenely, with too high a spirit

to be cumbered with your old nonsense.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, Collected Poems and Translations

Ava Silva doesn't understand expectations and responsibility. 

 The opposite is true. The orphans at St Michael's are rank and file logistics, pieces to move around and minimise disruption to the clergy and staff who didn't get paid financially or spiritually to care for their charges. They were all subject to strict rules of behaviour and nothing more, nixing such things as life skills.  Since Ava did not feel such tenants of obligations, the nuns avoided her as much as possible. 

"I am proud of you for making it to this stage; it took discipline and commitment." Beatrice moves to her desk, handing over a detailed planner. 

"Was there a point where such progress was optional since you swept in and shepherded the miracle? You were there for that whole serious talk with the boss?" Ava says with a teasing smile. 

"Take the compliment, Ava. There is more work to be done; you will start shadowing Mary and the others on field missions soon." Beatrice chides her while carefully reviewing the calendar. 

"Why can't I be an archivist in junior grade again? We have a good routine going on, you, me and the books?" Ava offers with sincerity 

One of the things that Ava appreciates the most about spending time with Beatrice is that the taller woman seems to be an expert listener. Unfortunately, they haven't gotten into background details yet, which seems unfair, considering that these people know everything from her birth history to kidney function. Still, she isn't brave enough to continue their fragile ventures into personal territory.

Still, the archivist may volunteer for a youth helpline or something. But, of course, it would be impressive if anybody could violate the laws of time and space, it would be her friend. For a moment, Ava feels guilty that she is the one to get a great opportunity when so many other orphans could learn from Beatrice. 

"That would be a waste of talent and opportunity. We have been through your attribute scores and training plan. The books would bore you in a few weeks." Beatrice predicts with the voice of experience. 

"I think you underestimate my love of libraries and the quiet routine that they represent. It would be nice if I were given a choice in the matter." Ava says softly, with hurt in her voice. 

"Having different training protocols because you feel better is a good thing, Ava. Besides, one doesn't exclude the other. Quiet time in the library will always be available.." Beatrice reaches out to squeeze her hand. 

"Could I..." Ava asks nervously 

"Ask your question, Ava." Beatrice says with an encouraging smile. 

"I was in the middle of teaching Diego and some of the other kids at the orphanage. My teaching skills are nothing in comparison to you and the new foster placement, but they enjoy story time and my maths explanations.." Ava feels herself start to ramble 

"Would you like to use the library for occasional tutoring sessions?" Beatrice guesses 

"If that would be okay, you have taught me how to take care of the valuable books; we will stay in the big space." Ava takes a deep breath, suddenly invested in the idea.

“Consider it done, we can talk about the logistics later.” Beatrice waves her in what passes for a casual gesture.

Ava feels herself sink with relief at both the opportunity and more time in this space that is so calm and secure.

***

The Mechanics of Dawn 

Mornings are strange in this secret hideout. 

Ava does her best to ignore the nightmares that still creep at the edges of her nights; such things are nothing new. But, of course, there is a new element to them now that she is an 'important orphan' with responsibilities and people that care. She may develop solid friendships with Beatrice, Camilla and maybe Mary, but that doesn't mean she has faith in the new system. Whatever happens all that matters is that Diego and the others are in a much better situation with support and guidance. 

"Hey D, how is everything? Why are you awake so early?" Ava is on alert instantly, trying to calculate the time difference.

"I miss you, everyone is nice, and the food here is so much better, they don't expect me to call them Mum, Dad or anything like that, but it's not the same as having you across the room with stories. I know that sounds stupid when we were so lucky to get out of St Michael's." Diego trails off with a bleak note in his voice. 

"Hey, it's not stupid, I miss you too, so much. I'm still a newbie in this place, but I've got the okay to have you and some others for visits. We can talk about setting up a schedule." Ava rushes to reassure him. 

"I would love that; tell me about what is going on there. It sounds like an adventure from the movies. Suppose there are things that are secret." Diego asks with excitement in his voice. 

"Some things, but there is plenty to share without revealing the mystic and the magic. First, I am making a few friends; after we get through that wild ride, we will talk about your foster siblings and after-school activities." Ava promises, wishing that she could reach down the phone. 

Ava takes a moment to gather her thoughts before launching into the last few weeks. Her friend and former roommate seems to hang on in every word. Ava does her best to explain her new situation, the family connection, and what they expect from her. They have a shared bond over the simple experiences that are so different from the orphanage, like a routine and expectations, regular meal times, a mix of inside and outside activities and normal sunlight. 

"They care about how I'm feeling and are happy for me to try new hobbies or things that might interest me. Nobody laughs at me if I don't do differently or have gaps in knowledge." Diego says eagerly as if such kindness remains novel.

"Of course they won't; I wasn't going to do this random gig unless there was a serious investigation and everyone found a good placement. I'll invite the core group up here; Beatrice promised me all the details. Consider me the head of the Reject Orphan's Social Committee now, fun will be had by all." Ava laughs grandly. 

The name references an insider joke, as they were often the orphans that weren’t put forward for adoption or on a showcase as model children. Ava tries to put a humorous spin. Many of those nights were spent easing the hurt of such stings for the younger ones, who aren't so tough. 

***

First Meal 

Ava's system is settling down, but it works in stages. 

The people in her new life have access to many resources and have long and complex explanations for the mystery that is Ava Silva and her strange 'powers'. However, as much as she enjoys listening to Beatrice geek out or making the priestly figure squirm, the practical information is hard to come by as her body acclimatises. Her digestive tract is still learning to process rich foods. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Beatrice asks without drawing attention from the others. 

Ava often wonders if she can learn that skill within a different communal living. All these wannabe heroes are far more observant than the nuns, priests and the people who rotate in and outside the orphanage doors. 

"My body may be some miracle continuum, but it still sucks sometimes. The internal organs are not familiar with the process of working regularly." Ava leans back with a hand on her stomach 

"Is there anything I can do? Do you want to go for a walk?" Beatrice sounds so earnest. 

"Yes, please. as long as we can take  breaks and find the nearest sturdy bench." Ava gives her friend a grateful look

"I can ring Dr Hernández, if you like. He will want to know how you are doing. He is one of your favourite the medical professionals, after all. " Beatrice offers as they move to the gardens.

"No, don't do that. We talk about such things regularly. I was getting a little overkeen with all the great food on offer. Why didn't anyone tell me that there are so many ways for things to hurt? Give the sometimes paralysed kid a clue." Ava tries to joke. 

"I have been reading about the experiences of nerve and referred pain. Were you experiencing that when you were at your sickest? Beatrice asks while matching her pace. 

"Honestly, I was so sick with various things and nobody bothered to explain the specifics. It would have been handy to have your library and the handy archivist to consider the details. Have you been reading up on me?" Ava teases, but she grimaces through the pain. 

"I like to read about many things, and the situation at Saint Michael's is outrageous." Beatrice deflects with an awkward shrug. 

***

Morning Routine 

Ava wishes that she could cling to Beatrice like a security blanket. 

She still likes hanging out in the library; it is quiet enough to resemble the best part of her days with Diego. Then, when nobody was demanding, they performed or acted like good little orphans for everybody to marvel offer. Beatrice may be strict, but if you seem gainfully occupied with a task, then she is happy enough to leave you alone.

"Beatrice's role isn't the kind to attract such interest. Normally when people hear what we do, the natural and supernatural world saving, with all the James Bond tech, its all they can think or talk about, it's aggravating." Shotgun Mary is leaning against one of the many pillars. 

"Is this where you have another don't mess with Beatrice's talk? Besides from my biased perception, it seems like she runs the place from her cave of 1000 books. The whole reviving me from near death was hardcore or whatever passes for a compliment here." Ava shoots back, feeling her hackles rise. 

" I am the last person to doubt her worth. We all have hard stories to tell, it's in the job description, right next to keeping secrets. Beatrice's takes the form of the....people who should know to treat her better." Mary explains carefully but unhelpfully

"Are you taking lessons in how to be cryptic from the boss man? Didn't you hear that lecture about British emancipation? Ava gestures in the vague direction of the administration wing. 

"All I am saying is that Beatrice talks a big game and is tough as nails, but in your usual casual way, you are edging near some of her vulnerable and sore points. This situation isn't like missing a roundhouse kick with a do over. Please tread lightly." Mary's voice sounds more hurt than intimidating. 

"I have no difficulty with my connection to the library or Beatrice. She is my friend, and that means something to an orphan with no bio family. She has another person in her corner, not an enemy. I've plenty of knowledge what bad guys look like now." Ava declares firmly

"Good, I don't expect to have this conversation again." 

Sarcasm is Ava's coping mechanism in many of life's disappointments, especially regarding adventures in this strange new land. 'Shotgun Mary' seems to resent her miracle status and intrusion into her life routine. Naturally, her suspicion raises Ava's hackles, and they dance around each other. Still, she is willing to listen and respect the efforts to protect their now friends. 

The orphan may not know much about the 'real world', but she can register the pain and difficulty. Sometimes Beatrice looks like a thousand ghosts are haunting her nights. There may be many missions to do, complete with saving the world from supernatural forces and natural corruption. However, making and keeping friends in this place has a place too. 

Some things need to keep secret for now. 

***

Lunch: Walks and Milkshakes 

"Come for a walk, Beatrice." 

Ava Silva can't afford to slip away from her shadow training for the day, but she is surprisingly ahead and is set for an early lunch break. Instead, she finds herself winding the way back to the library. It seems that Beatrice doesn't follow the traditional rhythms and does her physical training privately. 

"I am working through lunch today, Ava. Thank you for the offer, though." the reply is mechanical. 

"You forget that I have clearance now, according to my new top secret knowledge. The world isn't going to end if you take half an hour to walk with me and give me a detailed history of the flowers while monitoring if my ankle drops." Ava taps a gentle finger on the book that has her attention. 

"Aren't you in the computer lab for the morning?" Beatrice looks like she is mentally reviewing the schedule. 

"You are looking at a start pupil; I completed the module and even have modelled in the works to test my reaction time. Feel free to be impressed when you look at it, Oracle of All Knowledge." Ava leans against the desk

"So, that means that you will come and bother me for a source of entertainment, I can't say that happens to me often; people using go for Mary and the shiny weapons and VR scenarios." Beatrice carefully closes her books and notepaper. 

"Of course, that's the whole point, Beatrice." 

There is a level of victory, but Ava does her best not to do an impromptu happy dance. From how Beatrice rolls her eyes, she isn't successful in acting chill and calm. 

"Then, at least tell me what you learnt the day as such a reluctant student?" Beatrice asks, genuinely curious. 

***

Afternoon Routine

Ava wishes that there was a magical learning platform. 

"The most realistic advice I can give you is to be prepared that people will die, potentially because of your misdeed or inaction. 

"Woah, are you channelling, Mary with that statement? I thought you were the designated friendly one of the group of misfit heroes?" Ava asks sceptically. 

The new resources and knowledge she has access to are incredible. Beatrice is a great teacher; it turns out Ava has an appetite for learning in the right environment and with encouragement. If she were feeling spiteful, she would hunt down the teachers at the orphanage at let them know how wrong they were on that score.   

"We all play different roles when the situation calls for it. So the idea of being able to make a change, especially for those who didn't come from a position of power, is enticing.

"I sense that this is the part where you are going to compare me to Luke Skywalker and his orphan gig  living in the desert. Personally, the last name seems like something of a giveaway." Ava muses out loud 

 "The point is that you will enter a world that combines small and extremely high stacks. There may be a geopolitical crisis we can't avert or a demon that breaks all the rules and gets through the cracks." continues in an even and neutral tone. 

"Okay...so am I looking for the Devil around every corner? The nuns would be so proud that their predictions are coming true on my future path and prospects." Ava says drily. 

"More like that saving the world may not look like it does either in the movies or our training scenarios. There is still so much we can't predict, even in this position of such power and knowledge." 

"I am a natural-born survivor with a long list of unfortunate events and life lessons; from my perspective, the world, societies and almost anybody will find ways to disappoint and deceive; any change on that scale is a good thing." Ava offers while being both cynical and serious.

"Well, you are going to make it through the evaluations fine." 

"In my mind, the miracle in question is getting Diego and the others to better lives; everything is a bonus.

***

Evening Meal 

Ava is getting better at making friends. 

One of the features of the orphanage is that the attachments can be broken without warning. Ava loves all the children at St Michael's, but a few were lucky to find permanent homes without the sisters bothering to inform the rest. However, mother Superior quickly let Ava know that she is unlikely to be on that fast track to such success. 

"How are you settling in, Ava? Everything is pretty overwhelming at the start, even when you don't have your unique entry point." Camila hands over the salad tongs. 

"I never knew that there were so many ways to absorb knowledge. It's like going to a real school and something out of Professor X's mansion in X man, all at the speed of light. I need to be something of a miracle or a mutant to keep up with all the processing." Ava admits with a deep sigh.

"Don't let Beatrice hear you say that last part; you'll be in for a detailed lecture on weaponising such terms against minorities. For the record, you aren't languishing at the bottom of the class. Mary only finds three or four things to complain about, which is close to a compliment.” The other woman confides

***

"I have a timetable addition for you, Jedi Master." 

"What are you talking about, Ava? It's reassuring to know that the great movie made it a horrible place, unlike the essentials of education, health care and human kindness." Beatrice quips. However, she can't keep her curiosity from her voice. 

Beatrice defines herself by duty and commitment. 

"I wasn't aware that such things were up for debate, but I'm willing to hear amendments if you help me shelve and itemise these books." Beatrice barters while gesturing to the books. 

In some ways, her friend reminds Ava of an earnest novice devoted to such faith, whatever her duty. Beatrice struggles to enjoy life even when she earnestly encourages Ava to find social connections and learn about what the world offers in this beautiful part of Spain. These protective feelings aren't new to the orphan; she was responsible for guiding the younger children, who were traumatised and unable to adjust as easily. 

"I am willing to do all the shadow training, the lectures and hell workouts with Mary. However, I will haunt this library with obscure questions about the history of saints and sinners unless you agree to continue our lunch or dinnertime walks. They are not a luxury item, my friend." Ava is proud of herself for starting to negotiate. 

"Why is that, Miss Silva?" Beatrice asks challengingly 

What is happening with Beatrice is different in ways Ava doesn't have time to investigate. Surely a place like this pays for psychological help for the world's saviours. Camila might take the job in a pinch, or she can exercise the feelings of sweat equality with Mary. Still, such interactions make her happy, like learning to use her body, complete with unexpected side efforts. 

"Because you need to smile and relax more, I can make you smile. There is imperial evidence on matter, graphs and things. If you give me a few days I can whip up a chart or two on that fancy soft where that proves we are friends." Ava does her best to sound studios. 

"As the person who moderates such access, with careful criteria. I can tell you that such excess is not the purpose of such designing software. Besides, you cemented our friendship, consciously or not, during the many conversations about the anatomy and structures of miracles. There was far more entertaining and challenging than those with great theological minds." Beatrice lowers her voice as if confessing a secret. 

"If I happen to run into any of the learned men or woman in question, I promise not to give the game away. Is that your fancy way of saying yes?" Ava looks younger with that hopeful lilt to her voice. 

“You should know that by now, Ava.”

Chapter Text

“If you know someone who’s depressed, please resolve never to ask them why. Depression isn’t a straightforward response to a bad situation; depression just is, like the weather.

Try to understand the blackness, lethargy, hopelessness, and loneliness they’re going through. Be there for them when they come through the other side. It’s hard to be a friend to someone who’s depressed, but it is one of the kindest, noblest, and best things you will ever do.”

Ava Silva wakes up afraid.

Certainly, as the epitome of an unwanted orphan, waking up afraid isn’t a new experience; sometimes, there are just different levels of fear. Beatrice is sincere in her attempt to convince Ava that she is now safe, with regular meals, a warm bed, and protection for her foster brother. The taller woman would do anything to make things easier, which is hard to understand in terms of friendship and kindness. Yet, there is something oddly comforting about feeling the fear. 

The ‘miracle body’ has limits.

For many years, Ava found herself in a peculiar situation: she knew every sensation in her body, yet had almost no control over her movements. So when she feels the first stirrings of sickness, Ava reverts to type and goes quiet, wanting to assess the situation without disturbing the other occupants in the complex. The place is larger and has far better isolation than the ancient orphanage, but it’s much safer to stay quiet, like the proverbial ‘church mouse’. There is still a riot of sensation; her hands and limbs can still move, which brings some relief.

“Man, Diago, I wish that you were here to check for the monsters.”

Ava would never ask to return to her previous circumstances, but there are times when she longs for the narrowness and predictability of the orphanage. When they were sick, everyone would huddle in the corner and steal some extra food and supplies. In this massive complex, things would look different. Ava dreads the idea of asking for help when they poke and probe this new body that doesn’t feel like hers. The days spent learning with Beatrice and Mary were starting to feel like a routine. Perhaps that was the price of hope, knowing that things could be different.

“There is nothing for it, Ava, you need to move.”

The self-talk doesn’t work, but Ava still swings her legs over the side of the bed, staying there for a few moments to let the room stop spinning. After a few seconds, the former orphan puts his feet on the floor. She shuffles over and reaches for the comfortable, yet expensive, slippers. Such casual luxury still feels strange, but the thick tread on the souls could be helpful. The aim is that she can wait to use the bathroom, get a drink of water and access various body parts for cooperation.

“Are you okay, Miss Ava?”

Ava nearly jumps and whirls around to face the worried gaze of a night nurse doing her rounds. Her new life offers the luxury of quiet medical interventions, where there’s a high chance someone will help if you ask. Heck, they might even call her favourite doctor, who is honest enough to lay things out plainly, even when they don’t know why one nameless girl with few official papers and even fewer identifiable details suddenly becomes special. Right now, it feels far too risky to alert the team to a potential vulnerability in their latest pet sideshow freak. 

Things don’t end well when people realise that Superman has kryptonite that can derail all the grand plans.

“No worries, I’m fine, Johnny, just can’t sleep, grabbing some water.” Ava waves her hands with what she hopes is a convincing smile, but the words still feel like a terrible lie.

So far, Ava is managing to stay upright, but her movements are starting to feel very exhausting. She has little to no experience with regular illness; when she was sick in the other place, her entire system collapsed. The doctors who examined her, with varying degrees of care and attention to detail, weren’t specific about her original diagnosis, let alone the ways she can become ill. Ava stands still by the sink, reaching for the water cover story, pausing to let a wracking cough pass.

Could there be an expiration date on miracles? Is this hers?

Such a deal would be monumentally unfair, but also somewhat acceptable, as long as Saint Michael’s wouldn’t be inflicted on any other orphans and the youngsters were receiving proper care. Ava isn’t being all noble and self-sacrificing with such sentiments; rather, it’s more sensible not to expect the good things to last. The cool volunteers who get sick of coming, the decent nun who gets assigned to another parish. The friend gets adopted and doesn’t keep in touch. Ava Silva is reasonable certain that even if her body does start failing again, this crowd and their mysterious mission won’t turf her out on the street, at least until they have answers.

Time-limited miracles sound like something that Beatrice would love to discuss in detail. The severe archivist loves nothing more than a good discussion on a topic that is well away from anything personal, and Ava can respect that grind to survive. She feels a surge of anxiety at the idea of asking Beatrice for help or explaining this situation. Her new friend seems genuinely excited about Ava’s progress. Still, she finds herself wandering the halls, in the general direction where the other women stay in the complex, between missions or when they are staying close to the base. There is a skeleton crew, but so far Ava hasn’t seen them.

“Ava, what’s going on?”

Ava cannot help a weary smile when she looks and sees Beatrice at the buttom of the staircase, looking like she threw on what she considers to be casual, even so she looks so well and put together, Ava cannot help but smile, even though she suddenly feels like an exhibit on display.

“Hey, Bea, here for a midnight milkshake?”

Beatrice doesn’t bother to lie, taking the first steps, but hesitates. They know each other well enough to be wary of confrontation. Ava leans on the bannister, waiting for the other woman to approach. The new arrival does her best to pretend that the lean is casual and not because she needs the support of the structure to stay upright. It feels strange to think that her life at the bottom of the ‘superhero hierarchy’ still gives her a sense of pride, especially when interacting with her (reluctant) chaperone.

“Or, more likely knowing my luck, Johnny is one of your spies and snitched on the new girl, who everyone still treats like a novelty Christmas toy.” Ava raised a questioning eyebrow, daring the archivist to disagree.

Snitching was one of the worst crimes in the streets around the orphanage. Diago and the others report back on the power struggles and people who snitch for more influence on the streets. Despite everyone paying respect to the leadership, Ava hasn’t yet figured out who has the greatest leverage here and what they plan to do with that control, in general, but also as it relates to her magical organs that may or may not be failing.

Johnny had nothing to do with me being here. You have been absent for days. On a side note, I wouldn’t characterise what he did or didn’t say as snitching, not with such negative consultation. The work we do here is as much about keeping new arrivals healthy as it is about responding to the magical and non-magical global threats. Now what’s wrong?”

“You mean that I am not the only stray that you are encouraging to walk and stand on their own?” Ava tilts her head, working to keep the sarcasm from her voice.

**

“Wit will only get you so far.”

As a matter of pride, Ava wants to argue that wit and banter take her a long way, especially when it comes to protecting the younger kids from the pain of rejection or discipline. Still, she isn’t arguing from a position of strength when Bea needs to fly upstairs to prevent Ava from tabling over. The taller woman is strong and steady as she braces Ava’s waist, not moving into they are certain that she is in no more danger. They move out of the hallway and into a small room. Beatrice has extensive knowledge of all the nooks and crannies in the vast grounds.

“You might be onto something there, Bea.”

Ava leans back into one of the comfortable chairs, mentally willing the room to stop spinning. Beatrice crouches down, her keen eyes observing every moment, strong fingers resting against Ava’s wrist, likely checking both pulse and clamminess. They are past the point where pretending that everything is going to be fine or that all that needs to happen is extra water is effective.

“How long have you been feeling sick?” Beatrice asks softly.

“Tonight is the worst that it’s been, but the last few days, maybe a week?”

Ava blinks owlishly as Beatrice moves around the room gathering supplies before returning to the coach. She begins to drift back to sleep, feeling safe in the presence of her guide. Ava can vaguely recognise the medical machines, the peeping of a thermometer, scans. As she loses her grip on consciousness, there are the vaguest hints of a conversation, from which Ava can pick up Beatrice asking demanding questions and not receiving satisfying answers. The quality of this furniture means that naps are much easier to come by. Sometime later, Beatrice shakes her shoulder with a soft hand.

“Hey Ava, wake up. We are heading out somewhere.”

**

“Where are we going?”

Part of Ava doesn’t care to hear the answer; she feels better resting in the car, but not by much. Beatrice is thoughtful enough to provide pillows and blankets, but does not explain where they might be going, which will matter at some point. At least Ava isn’t going to spend the next enmity in the high dependency medical ward. She didn’t expect Beatrice to listen when she made the piteous request. Instead, in the matter of a few moments, Beatrice insists that they bundle up in comfortable and casual outfits before guiding them to the garage. As far as Ava knows, her companion doesn’t reach out for support or connect with the medical officers.

“Your latest scans didn’t show anything too concerning, but I don’t want you putting any more pressure on your limbs. My family has a property that is only a twenty-minute drive; the quiet may be more restful than the complex. Everybody does their best to be respectful, but there is only so much soundproofing in the world to keep supernatural training quiet. We will stay there for a few days or return earlier and feel better soon.” Beatrice bites her lip as if she expects a rebuke.

“I have seen your daily and weekly task lists. There is no way you can take a week off on short notice. The leader does seem like the type to offer numerous days off for spontaneous holidays. Unless you are going full mad scientist and have a medical unit on site.” Ava jokes, but there is an underlying note of seriousness.

“No medical options, only plenty of places to nap. If we need support or a doctor’s advice, options will be available. The second you feel worse, you will be in the hospital complex before sundown.” Beatrice says with the note of conviction that makes her sound like a knight of old.

“Yes, Ma’am.”

Because she can, Ava reaches out and flicks on the radio, not bothering to deal with all the fancy buttons that make up a ‘media station’. She expects a classical music station with lots of strings and pianos. Instead, there is soft malonic female voice. It takes a few seconds to realise that this is an audiobook that may or may not be a lesbian romance. Beatrice’s hand strikes out, turning off the words mid-sentence. She gives Ada a fierce look that is deep disapproval. There is heat that touches her cheek, and the other woman instantly feels bad for the disruption.

“Oh, don’t feel bad, Diago and the others use audiobooks at the orphanage. There is no need to feel ashamed. I shouldn’t have fiddled with the things in your car.” Ava holds out her hands with an apologetic smile trying to catch the other woman’s eye.

“There are audiobooks and then there are things that shouldn’t be in public. I forgot that the books was on the que, sorry.” Beatrice sounds a mixture of angry and brittle, the knuckles that grip the steering wheel are white with the tension.

“Well, if you have people who judge the books that make you happy or whatever else, get a different circle, Bea. We don’t have to say another word on the topic. I can pretend that this didn’t happen.” Ava tries to rush the words out as if she can race ahead of her friend’s self-recrimination.

“My parents are hopeful that a new demanding job will turn me away from such ‘sentimental rubbish’ and start making practical decisions. Sometimes listening in the car is the only time I get to be alone; I don’t have many passages, as I’m usually a ride-along.” Beatrice drums her fingers on the steering wheel as they turn into the driveway.

“I am somebody who didn’t and likely will never have parents to disappoint, but that has to be some level of bullshit. Denouncing your child because of who she chooses to live with, at the top of the mountain professionally, a literal hero.” Ava sits up further, warming to her topic.

“Don’t waste energy that you don’t have, Ava. I’m not about to launch into the many layers of self-loathing. It takes many hours in therapy, but I’m learning not to tie all my esteem and competency to their approval or lack thereof. Let’s change the topic.” Beatrice leaves no room for negotiation.

“You can be in charge of the radio on the way home, I promise not to touch anything.”

Ava expects a response, but she hopes that her words sink in; she doesn’t mention that she wouldn’t mind listening to the end of the story, it would be nice to escape away into some fictional world, where the action and interpersonal drama happen in three or four acts. Acting on impulse Ava flicks on the radio and notes down the name and author of the title.

**

“Are you a princess as well as an outcast?

Britain doesn’t produce nearly as many of those as it once did; even if it were feasible, I would not be noble material, even if my parents wished otherwise. No, we are merely wealthy acquaintances, in the same circles but not heights.”

“No, I can see the princess thing, hands down. It’s in your check bones, not to mention your competency when doing anything and everything.”  Ava glances over her shoulder, giving the other woman a challenging look.

Ava Silva is sensible enough to swallow her pride, using the surprisingly modern wheelchair that Beatrice proves, knowing that her weakened body wouldn’t handle the old estate. Of course, the sensible approach has its limits; Beatrice and a few staff are the only people to see the indignity. Thankfully, the wheelchair is comfortable and eases the pain in her joints.

It’s clear that your intermittent fevers are making you feel sentimental. I’ll give you a tour and introduce everyone who works in the house. Don’t worry, the staff don’t live here; they come here periodically to focus on the upkeep. We will have the place to ourselves. I’m not so much of a rich girl that I can’t cook meals and host you for a week, complete with those stews that you like so much.” Beatrice carefully pushes the chair around any obstacles. 

“The first thing we will do is make a list of all your symptoms and when they first occurred so that we can get a sense of what may be happening. The spare room is on the ground floor, and you can move around in the wheelchair, whatever you need.”

“Okay, can I have a nap first? I’ll need to be fully awake for one of our famous lectures, Bea.” Ava glances up from her position and grins knowingly.

It would be taking all of Beatrice’s strength to agree to a new timetable; she could be receiving secretive information from the doctors and medical professionals, but Ava only receives a sharp nod and a gesture to sit back and relax. Beatrice insists revealing facts about the house, the occasional hints about her childhood that sounds rich and wealthy but also bleak.

**

“You know, I think cats might be onto something, sleeping 20 hours per day.”

“It’s understandable. Don’t forget that your body has been working hard to keep you going for 20 years; you may be a new type of miracle, but that still puts physiological pressures on your system. Do you feel up to going for a walk around the garden? There are plenty of benches to rest.” Beatrice asks, holding out her hand with an encouraging smile.

The next few days pass in a predictable blur, but the time is more comforting than Ava expects. Having a failing and uncooperative body is nothing new, one could almost say commonplace, but the attentions of such a brisk nursemaid are new and not unwelcome. Being away from the new routine makes Ava realise how sick she feels over the last couple of days, without realising that she was so accustomed to having an unreliable body. Beatrice fussed over her with regular meals, a warm room and fluffy blankets.

“Would you read one of the books on mythology? I like hearing about all the saints and warrior women.” Ava asks, her cheeks heating with embarrassment

“I am sure we can sort something out. Most history books have audio versions with decent narrators. I could download a few of my favourites if you want?” Beatrice threads their arms together; the friendship gesture doubles as her ability to let Ava stay steady

Ava focuses on keeping her pace steady and even, taking deep lungful’s of fresh air. The gardens are neat with the same professional edge that Beatrice brings to everything else in her life. The archivist has small planters at the complex with bright colours and leaves. Ava enjoys watching the routines of watering, feeding, and pruning. There is a variety of birds and singing and twittering. Ava feels the urge to reach for some binoculars and see if she can see the plumage.

“I would like for you to read the chapters, if it’s all the same. You have the precise British thing going on, which makes things all the more convincing anyway. It’s okay if that takes up too much of your time or something; just a stupid idea.” Ava rushes to try and cover her mistake with a casualness that she doesn’t feel.

“No, no, I’d be happy for us to read together. You were expressing an interest in audiobooks, so it seemed only logical to suggest.” Beatrice counters quickly, squeezing Ava’s arm and guiding her through the grounds of the property, acting somewhere between a professional tour guide and a nervous friend on their first sleepover.

‘Maybe we can explore the world of audiobooks together.” Ava shrugs, looking up and leaning into the sun and light breeze, blushing at the intensity in the way Beatrice looks at her.

“I have a book that would be perfect for this occasion, full of resilience, hope and courage. Things that you have

Beatrice lets go of Ava’s hand, quickly turning away and stepping back into the house, leaving Ava blinking curiously, before cradling a book under her arm. Ava blinks curiously before they fall back into step with each other. Beatrice seems determined to find the most ideal spot for reading, under the biggest tree with the birds in the trees and flowers growing through the feet of the bench.

***

“Would you like to go for a swim, test out the new healing?”

Ava decides that she likes seeing Beatrice from the vantage point of a chair rather than the sickbed. Somewhere between their first day and the middle of the week, Beatrice starts to dress casually. The outfits are still incredibly rich and luxurious, but there is much less of the rigid uniform from the library. Naturally, her new friends pack a perfect range of T-shirts and pants. Of course, part of the deal is that Ava Silva has a wardrobe that other people select; nobody in this new setup feels especially attached to the rags that make up her existing clothing. The nuns and priests actively discouraged them from displaying any sense of individuality. Ava didn’t mourn the lost; she kept anything important with Diago and a few of the other younger kids.

“This place has a pool?’ Ava asks, struggling to place such a large structure.

“My parents want to prove their wealth and ability to support fancy architecture,

Of course, there is a criminally underutilised pool. Although they do at least see sense enough to let this place be rented out for film festivals and other major events, it at least doesn’t sit idle. Beatrice glances around the room with a hapless shrug before standing up and holding out her hand for Ava to follow.

“So, I got sick at the right time for us to have the place to ourselves.” Ava jokes, standing up and testing the strength in her legs.

Naturally, Beatrice has enough foresight to buy herself a bathing suit and a fresh set of towels. Ava shakes her head in wonder as they move through the house and enter the pool room, which looks splendid and glassy. Beatrice holds out a hand and guides Ava down the steps, pausing so that the other woman can adjust to the temperature, smiling brightly at her. Ava learns to swim as part of the new training process, but it would be a mistake to say that such things inspire confidence. 

“Please don’t let me go, Bea. I could sink.” Ava feels a sudden surge of terror. Beatrice repositions her hands so that Ava can lean into her strength.

“I work hard to get you this far, Ava Silva. I’m not going to stop now. Now lie back.” Beatrice instructs, putting her hands under Ava’s back and floating them out into the centre of the pool.

“Wow, it still feels amazing to have such sensations,” Ava confesses, letting her hair float out behind her.

“You are doing so well; your muscles should relax with the temperature. We can stay here for an hour and then do the final tests.”

**

“So will this be your place one day?

“Own would be a loose term for all the legal complexities and expectations, but yes, the land and dead will pass to me eventually. That, of course, presumes that my parents don’t find a suitable replacement before my father’s bitter heart gives out. The odds are fifty/fifty.” Beatrice shrugs uncomfortably.

It’s obvious over the next few days that Beatrice isn’t a natural host but knows that there is a script that dutiful daughters follow. She doesn’t demand that Ava go through too many tests beyond reporting if she has a good night, doesn’t cough as much, and has more energy. In between light meals, Ava spends the day resting in the large, spacious rooms and gardens. As she starts to feel better, the urge to snoop is overwhelming.

“Only the children of wealth could be casual about such things.”

“Can I just stay here?”

True to her word, as honourable as a knight of old, Beatrice keeps her illness and recovery largely a secret, deciding that Ava is sick with a common condition that means she is not immortal—those tiny bacteria that can invade the body and challenge the immune system. Ava isn’t sure she believes the reassurance, especially when the world still feels shaky and she can barely keep down soup. Beatrice doesn’t hassle the unofficial patient into eating or doing more, but Ave finds herself wanting to be a good patient, if only to see that rare, shy smile.

“You can stay here for as long as you need resources and time. My family doesn’t use this property because they prefer the more temperate seasons. That's why I like it so much, but you don’t need the isolation now; we have confirmed that your condition won’t worsen and shouldn’t interfere with your training or venturing into the world. Shannon, Mary, and the rest of the team are out if you'd prefer to train solo.” Beatrice pauses to let her teapot sit and steep in a precise, stereotypically English way.

Ava can tell that there are improvements; for one thing, it’s no longer so difficult to make it through the day without needing several naps. Her limbs regain strength through pool time, gentle stretches and several medication rounds. There is immense relief in knowing that her new body isn’t sliding backwards. Beatrice measures this progress in specific ways that Ava isn’t aware of and doesn’t want to learn. The taller woman smiles during her journaling, which seems like a good sign for somebody who is not prone to happiness.

You must be getting tired of playing nursemaid and spending so much time away from your screens and books. The family library can’t compare to all those resources and tomes, can it?” Ava asks, twirling her pasta, glancing at her companion, questioningly.

“Oh, I don’t know, many of these shelves hold my favourites, which I buy for no other reason than they make me smile.

Ava has no idea what a family home is like, outside the movies and things on TV. Still, she has a firm belief that somebody as wonderful and dedicated as Beatrice deserves a greater sense of home, with photos and keepsakes. Beatrice may be a loner who isn’t as tight with the other teams, but this place is truly boring. There isn’t even a trace of a book on the side table or dirty dishes in the sink. Ava must be feeling better, as she has an undeniable urge to find some paint and brighten up the walls. These people are too rich to have the feel of the orphanage, but it’s close.

“This has been nice, just the two of us rambling around this place and making sure that my magical bones and organs aren’t about to explode or the witch who cursed me isn’t coming to take her money back?” Ava gestures vaguely towards her chest.

Beatrice frowns, and Ava feels guilty for bringing up the topic. Her new friend and companion may have taken on the role of caretaker and guide reluctantly, but that doesn’t mean she lacks concern. Beatrice hates it when anyone in the team or complex makes self-deprecating jokes, but Ava most of all. While Ava’s coping mechanisms revolve around sarcasm and humour, Beatrice prefers precise knowledge.  So far, over the last days, they have figured out ways to make these approaches work together.

“Even if I were to accept your characterisation of a malevolent force in charge of your bargain for a new life, then there would be no rational reason to attack an orphan in Spain over somebody who can influence and charge world events. We are familiar with the dynamics of magical hostage taking or possession; they don’t look like this, Ava.” Beatrice’s words are soft and so very earnest.

“Are you asking me to trust you and all those many books that you obsess over at odd hours?” Ava asks, reaching out to clasp her forearm in a reassuring gesture to take any bite out of the words. Ava has something close to terrible people skills, but it’s easy enough to read pain, and Beatrice does not receive much encouragement in her life.

“I need you to trust that even supernatural forces have predictive patterns and rhythms if you know where and how to look. There are things that we don’t know about this new life that you inhabit that we may never know, but the forces that are at work leave a light touch. You remain what passes as healthy within the 19-25 age bracket.” Beatrice falls into lecture mode, but Ava knows she makes a conscious effort to keep friendly and open.

“Okay, but can I have one extra day and a few meals before I go back to being at the bottom of the hierarchy? It turns out that even though I hated the quiet when we were at the orphanage, the training facility provides noise on a level that sets my nerves on edge.” Ava asks, trying to keep the pleading tone from her voice.

“Of course, we can, we can go for a walk around the gardens and have a picnic. There is time enough to be whimsical.” Beatrice agrees before turning her attention back to the meal. Soft music plays in the background, and Ava wonders if musical instruments are amongst Beatrice’s many skills.

“Can I just say thank you again? It would be much easier to look after me with the support of medical officials.  I didn’t mean to add to your burdens by being stubborn and prideful. What did you tell Mary? The others will miss your steady presence and intel on the daemons and dramas.” Ava phrases it as more of a statement than a question.

“It depends on the complexity of the job. Shannon and Mary enjoy blowing things up more than the dryness of research.’ Beatrice shrugs uncomfortably, not wanting to draw attention to the situation.

You have more to offer than just books, Bea. Everyone enjoys spending time with you as a friend, not merely as a source of collective wisdom. I can see that, and I am a newcomer who doesn’t know all the in-jokes and banter. I bet that your scholarship and professional geekiness come in useful when solving the mystery of the illness, right?” Ava poses the question she’s been avoiding for the past few days, not wanting to disturb or upset the fragile peace. 

Beatrice breathes deeply, clearly struggling with what to say and how to phrase the news.

“I believe that somebody at the complex is pausing you.”

“Jesus Bea, what the heck were you thinking burying the lead. Someone is trying to kill me!” her voice cracks at the end.

It takes a few seconds for the words to second in, when they do, Ava springs up, shoving her chair back with unnecessary force. She feels a sudden stab of betrayal. She looks at Beatrice, her eyes roam over the calm expression, looking for signs of understanding and clarity. Beatrice stands up, reaching out to grasp her hand, waiting for the other woman to settle, at least in theory before replying.

“I was only theorising and didn’t have proof until the first test results. Sit down, and I will explain anything.”

Chapter Text

“Jesus Bea, what the heck were you thinking burying the lead. Someone is trying to kill me!” her voice cracks at the end.

It takes a few seconds for the words to second in, when they do, Ava springs up, shoving her chair back with unnecessary force. She feels a sudden stab of betrayal. She looks at Beatrice, her eyes roam over the calm expression, looking for signs of understanding and clarity. Beatrice stands up, reaching out to grasp her hand, waiting for the other woman to settle, at least in theory before replying.

“I was only theorising and didn’t have proof until the first test results. Sit down, and I will explain anything.

Ava struggles to process the information.

The former orphanage child can rely on her friend and guide to be compassionate and understanding of her theories, without hesitating to critique people within her beloved secretive organisation and the wider circle. Ava works to focus on the combination of toxicology theory, the threat of a miracle pose, and the few people who would have the reach and means to act on these threats. As her words progress, the taller woman leans forward, instinctively reading aloud and clasping Ava’s restless, flailing hands. 

“I don’t know if knowing the danger requires an expiration on my miracle or a simple element of human greed?” Ava manages a humourless laugh, uncertain if she wants to yell or cry.

“I may admire Sherlock Holmes and the legendary detectives, but let me gather more information and support before we make any firm opinions. There are people that we can trust, at least enough to conduct further investigation.”

Beatrice frowns: she doesn’t like many of Ava’s assessments of her new situation, mainly because they lack accuracy, but she cares genuinely and considers Ava’s future and psychosocial development, despite her professional involvement. She continues to do so even when her status as the new girl who confounds science begins to fade. Mary and Shannon seem eager to treat Ava as an annoying but useful trainee. 

“You know, there are much easier ways to achieve similar results without making such a fuss. Orphans on our side of remote Spanish regions can vanish easily. Wouldn’t it be much simpler to catch me before you brought me into the fortress?” Ava must unload. 

For a woman with such exacting standards and who admits to struggling with people skills, Beatrice still manages to give Ava a sense of calm reassurance, tightening their hands together more firmly. The scholar and activist may want to protest the characterisation, especially after all the effort she put into shutting down the orphanage and its affiliates. Still, she recognises that’s not what she needs in this moment. 

“They may want to test your ability to tolerate the new powers and recovery before making a move. You are making good progress, and that may have set things in motion, which is a fear.” Beatrice agrees, keeping her voice low, but there is an intense energy.

Ava Silva doubts she will ever reach the point where she fully trusts this new, dependable body, the one that moves when she wants and doesn’t fall ill with discouraging symptoms every few seconds or make rash investments. Yet, at moments like this, she feels an overwhelming urge to test it out and run across the beautiful grounds, trying to outrun the ghosts in her mind.

“Beatrice, you spent weeks trying to earn my trust by tempting a feral creature with regular food, shelter, and gentle tones. Telling me all this won’t help with the team’s atmosphere. I find it hard to see a downside in accepting the guilt money from the leader, fleeing to a remote coastal town, letting their miracle vanish, and making everyone happy. Diago and I dreamed about what escaping might look like; only a few people make it in the end,” Ava says softly, gazing over Beatrice’s shoulder. 

“You disappearing to a remote coast town would make very few people happy, least of all me and our milkshake suppliers. Ava, if anybody wants to challenge either you or our work, then distance isn’t going to make much difference. But if the urge overwhelms you, then at least tell me first so I can put measures in place to protect you?” Beatrice slips down on the floor, gazing up at Ava earnestly.

“You do love your mythology and ancient stories, wanting to swoop in like a knight in armour? Shouldn’t I start calling you, Sir Beatrice?” Ava waves her free hand, brushing at her tears angrily.

“Nobody would ever accuse you of being a damsel in distress, even when things were at their worst in the orphanage, nor would I be the kind of saviour you see on the cover of romance novels. Still, I can offer some methods for starting a new life. My passport got me through, enabling me to begin at least three new lives with many mistakes along the way. May I invite you for a walk and discuss the least drastic idea?” Beatrice asks, running a hand over Ava’s clenched wrists. 

“So, I guess we don’t need to get ready to head back to the complex. At least not until my next appointment with your favourite doctor, who’s obsessed with my reflexes and whether I can stay upright?” Ava asks eagerly to see the pool and grounds again. 

As I said before, we can’t stay here for the rest of the year. This situation will catch you, no matter how many ancient family walls and wards my stubborn family law can put in place. Still, let’s go for a walk and swim.” Beatrice agrees, gently helping the other woman to her feet, waiting for Ava to be steady. 

Thank you, I wouldn’t want to go through this mess with anyone else but you, along with those steady tones and legion of books. I’m going to keep a tome from Beatrice’s library. Ava leans up and kisses her cheek. 

They walk mainly in companionable silence for a few minutes, both trying to work out tension in their minds and muscles alike. Ava is sure that this last conversation might undo Beatrice’s good work, taking her away to a new environment without the pressure of being an exhibit on display. Then again, she wouldn’t trade seeing Beatrice in this environment for someone who has difficulties with her family and seemingly an impossible job; she does have moments of simplicity and joy.

“So, are these miracle organs of mine more vulnerable than anybody thought, complete with Kryptonite for Superman? What is going on in that brilliant mind of yours, Sir Beatrice?” Ava eventually breaks the silence, wanting to get the worst part of that moment.

“Did you know that, like any good story with such staying power, there is a kernel of truth? The idea that something invincible has a single, unifying poison that destroys everything. Of course, it's not as obvious as neon green glowing in the dark, but it's the underlying logic.” Beatrice begins to lecture, once again looping her arms in an affectionate and familiar gesture that Ava can’t remember sharing with anyone else. 

“Good to know, so are we looking for my kind of kryptonite to ensure I stand tall and strong?

**

“Your body isn’t failing.”

Ava stays very calm and still as she watches Beatrice perform the first aid measures. However, this time there are a few new elements—reflexes and sensations. So far, it doesn’t seem like Beatrice feels the need to use magic and witchcraft. Beatrice’s hands are soft and confident. Ava watches each movement, praying that her body won’t betray her by showing her difficulty or human reactions. It’s been a long time since somebody touched someone with such delicacy. Beatrice is nothing like the doctors or nurses who didn’t want one of their orphans to die. 

Then what is my body doing if the poisoning isn’t permanently damaging nerves and muscles that were just starting to get the hang of moving? Don’t pretend everything is fine when you lead with ‘the reason your legs are failing is poison’. It’s not like I really believed that this new job would work out,” Ava doesn’t manage to sound casual. 

“Supernatural forces and voices don’t only blow up buildings and get into the range of the superheroes in the movies. Such things can seep into the soil and environment. If the person has enough skill and patience, it wouldn’t be too difficult to turn energy against the immune system and body.” Beatrice begins to explain, gesturing towards the rash and irritation on her arms. 

“Can you explain that in simple terms that a poorly educated orphan can understand? Complete with some of your drawings?” Ava leans forward, giving Beatrice a long and examining look.

Beatrice doesn’t answer immediately, instead concentrating on her reflexes. Ava isn’t sure what she is searching for, but it’s a relief that the pain doesn’t feel any worse. Now that Ava understands what might be happening, she tries not to overthink and react to every twitch or ache. Her body was never the most dependable during her paralysis, so no one can truly understand what’s going on from year to year. 

“Somebody or a group got fortunate and gathered toxic waste and magical residual, using it against you. The complex is at the centre of many supernatural wars, and they may have found a way to tap into the water supply and catering, especially when contractors are present. I’m getting my favourite assistant to do a sweep throughout the grounds, and they will report back.” Beatrice explains as she carefully replaces all the medical instruments.

“I wouldn’t want to trust my food to some random intern, even if you trust them?” Ava scowls, not liking this idea, emphasising her trust issues to their limit.

“Oh, trust me, I’m not going to expect you to share the communal meals or taste a few new products. I will keep everything safe within the parameters that we both agree on in advance.

Beatrice bites her lip nervously, clearly wanting to defend her friends but unwilling to worsen the situation. Trust is something Ava struggles to extend beyond a small, close-knit circle that has shifted over time, with orphans being adopted, losing their place, and fighting for emotional survival. Ava hesitates to step back and return the investigative smile, but her chest thrums with anxiety. Beatrice is the one in the group who bears all the burden and responsibility, not only for educating a misfit but also for ensuring that the more daring and reckless members have lifelines and safety nets when they fall into trouble. It only takes a few weeks of intensive training to recognise that pattern. 

“You recognise that this isn’t your fault, right? That you can’t predict every nightmare and drama for the new girl?” Ava tries to move, but Beatrice gently pushes her back down, wanting to finish the testing.

“We haven’t gone into the details of my career, but it is within my job description to predict problems and troubleshoot elements that threaten our mortal and magical borders. There will be full debriefings that may or may not resemble the lectures in my father’s study.” Beatrice confesses in a quiet voice, a tremor beneath her words.

**

“So, what’s the deal with the unpredictable assassinations?

Ava has been contemplating this dilemma over the past few nights. She feels vulnerable and is in trouble at multiple points. If she were to take microdoses, there would be no reason why they couldn’t kill an orphan without close family. There is a certain degree of abstract curiosity and terror; it takes time to realise that she is depending on Beatrice to provide all the answers. Of course, she doesn’t have a chance to get the others, who seem to avoid the new girl.

“I wouldn’t necessarily repeat that characterisation, at least not in public. People tend to get tetchy when you use the ‘A’ word, especially after everything that happens with the Wizard and the resistance. My working theory is that you, Ava Silva, have very little to do with this and that the people are trying to undermine the magic and forces that gave you such powers.

“Help me to stand up, I want to start training. It’s easier to do things without the all-seeing eyes on me. You like to pretend that people aren’t watching us, but forgive me if I’m not trusting after the last week?” Ava holds out her hand, working to steady her feet before rising, Beatrice hovering and gripping her elbow.

Beatrice looks conflicted at the idea, her mouth opening to protest, but recognising the stubborn tone in Ava’s voice and that she won’t go there. In an instant, she extends her forearms, bracing so that the other woman can steady herself. They stand still for a few moments, smiling at each other. Ava takes a deep breath before beginning to walk, willing her legs not to stumble in front of the pretty woman. 

“Take it easy. I may act as if there should be 27 hours in a day, but your health and well-being are just as important as understanding the Halo Effect,” Beatrice whispers 

“You are lying to me; it doesn’t take an experienced Sister to see that you are an archivist held to an impossibly high standard, knowing everything for everyone, all the time. 

**

“We were flying too close to the sun in demonstrating your power.”

Beatrice is improving at explaining her thoughts without assuming prior knowledge. She guides Ava into the library, where she arranges another reference book. Ava isn’t an expert in such matters, but these don’t resemble the professional ones Beatrice uses when teaching recruits and compiling reports. These options look like they come from a film set or a law firm. Ava watches as Beatrice carefully puts on cloth gloves, fastening them at the wrist. 

“Did you find the answer in hieroglyphics and Sanskrit, Sir Beatrice?

“Nothing like that or requiring such in-depth translation; these books are from my family’s personal collection, and I won’t ever live it down if there are finger marks. My family and I don’t have many things in common, but our love and reverence for books is at the top of the list. For the record, I don’t speak either of those ancient languages.” Beatrice shares a shy smile.

“What are the books telling you then? Do I need to take a mythical root from the depths of the Himalayan Mountains? Are we going to do a secret ritual between us?” Ava asks, trying to lift her head over her shoulder.

Beatrice gestures for Ava to come around the large table. People have never asked for Ava’s opinion on many different matters, as she has never received the right information to be educated on current events, much less history. Now, Beatrice grants her full access to all the available information, along with the strange new illustrations and beautiful artwork. Beatrice tends to keep things quiet and orderly by nature, but the elements are overwhelming for Ava in every sense. Ava listens to the soft drumming of the antique clock. 

“One of the most important things that the Sisters and I do is monitor the places where ancient magic and curses intersect with the modern world. While technologies help us track their progress, the reverse is also true. People wanting to test the Halo magic and its healing properties can draw on elemental magic and run it through modern systems. Let me show you.” Beatrice alternates between the laptop and books, monitoring the screen and turning pages slowly.

“Let’s hope that they are intimidated by your family estate and its impressive wards and guards. 

“I am going to my absolute best, Miss Silva, the fact that your body is responding well to the changes is an excellent sign.”

Ava finds herself focusing on Beatrice’s words, realising that if she has one ally in this new, chaotic world, it’s the first person who pulled her out of the darkness in a literal way. It’s quite easy to feed her around like a baby bird with a mother duck and a fledgling. However, it’s not that straightforward either; they are protective of each other, and anyone paying attention knows that Beatrice torments herself with ghosts of the past, responsibility in the present, and uncertainty about the future. 

“Did you draw these?”

Ava runs a curious hand over the diagrams and pictures. They all depict Ava from when she was in the orphanage, showing the rashes and sores on her shoulders and forearms, placed on one of the smaller tables. Beatrice looks across to the sketchpads, a blush colouring her cheeks, but she nods. Orphans are accustomed to praise for their talents, but Ava makes a point of trying to honour Diago and the others, especially if they don’t receive attention from the foster carers. It’s easy to see that Beatrice did not receive much recognition for her skills and qualities. 

“The photos could improve the accuracy of the reports, but I’ve always enjoyed art, even though it wasn’t practical, at least by normal standards. I didn’t want to forget anything or scare you all the other orphans by deleting my camera or treating you like specimens. It pleases me to know that there is far more colour in your cheeks and arms, not to sound too much like my grandmother,” Beatrice offers a bashful smile. 

“You should have the right to pursue any hobbies that make you happy, after all, nobody can accuse Sir Beatrice of being idle. I like this one that doesn’t have sores or rashes. ” Ava picks up the final one, smiling at what she sees.

Beatrice freezes, and Ava gets the distinct impression that she never intended to include that classic portrait style with hills and the background reflecting a nameless Spanish landscape. Beatrice shifts slightly as if she wants to snatch the piece away; Ava feels the urge to cradle the paper protectively, not wanting to lose this sudden treasure. They remain in a strange standoff for a few moments. Beatrice looks so conflicted that Ava considers withdrawing the question, but at the same time, such moments seem significant. The activist moves over carefully, uncertain about how she will be received now that they are off the professional track and away from poisoning. 

“Even if these are the only things I want to draw, involving nothing clinical and instead highlighting the exact shade of your eyes when you're determined to meet a challenge, no matter how impossible or improbable," Beatrice whispers into the space between them, glancing between Ava and the picture in her hands. 

“My argument is particularly relevant if creating such images is solely for enjoyment and nothing more. I’ve only been around you for a few months and already know that you are working more hours than the generous overloads pay you for. Ava leans forward slightly. “Now that whatever poison is running through my system, perhaps I will be back as a better model?” Ava asks, fighting the blush on her cheeks. 

“I fear that we will not have time for such casual pursuits if my plans to return you to full health and training routines bear fruit.” Beatrice counters with what sounds like a genuinely regretful sigh.

“I’m extra sneaky, let me prove it to you, but while cooking dinner, testing out those lessons in a fancy kitchen with food sourced from reliable supply chains.” Ava leans up slightly and kisses her cheek. 

“That sounds lovely, Ava. You did watch plenty of cooking shows. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” Beatrice extends her arm, and they walk towards the dining area with more strength than Ava showed in previous days. 

Beatrice seems flustered by the simple show of affection, neither of  them is naive to the fact that their banter, training and teaching are pushing up against the boundaries of friendship. Ava Silva and the rest of her cohort may have had an unusual upbringing, but she is not Mowgli of the Jungle. Interpersonal relationships are not entirely new, but there is always something else to achieve in understanding the ‘miracle’ and whether she may or may not be an asset to the team.

“I need you to give me the lowdown on your friends; I know them, sure, but more in the sense that they train me reluctantly and have access to a whole range of weapons. Everything is different when we are trusting them to find the enemy from within and doing off-book missions or whatever the spies call it. 

“Please don’t turn this into a low-budget spy mission. We aren’t avoiding the proper channels. Think of it as waiting to see who we can trust on the chessboard before making our move. If we can overlook this one, rather large, diversion, my hope is that you will see what this can offer you.” Beatrice sounds physically pained by the idea that Ava’s trust is so broken, yet the source remains unknown.

“Maybe we can figure that out, one bowl of giant pasta and a thousand cups of tea in the next few weeks and months, as long as you throw in more trips to the pool.”

**

“Are your friends trustworthy, along with being deadly with eight forms of weapons?”

Ava can tell that the words make the taller woman defensive in a way that few other accusations or fears could. Beatrice may have a different outlook on life and spend much of her time alone, but the life of a warrior-sisterhood fosters bonds that Ava will never fully understand. Ava feels guilty for accusing those who are closer to Beatrice than her biological family. Still, this taller woman asks for Ava's trust, which includes being willing to answer uncomfortable questions.

“There is nothing I can say that will be truly reassuring. You have the survival instincts of an orphan with people like Diago to protect you. Trust isn’t something you can easily offer, but I can give you facts. They each took a vow to do the right thing and sacrifice a lot to meet those standards, including family and potential relationships. They may not know you well, but anyone can see the injustice you and others have endured. Mary wants to see the alleged priests and nuns brought before the Human Rights Court. We don’t have to do this, but I will stand by your side the entire way. 

“Is that your fancy way of saying, trust me? Alright then, let’s go and see who’s trying to poison me. However, you will test the milkshakes first. Do I look alright?" Ava runs a self-conscious hand through her hair.

Ava and Beatrice are meeting the rest of the team at a neutral location in one of the ancient abbeys, now converted into restaurants and meeting spaces. Rumour has it that there is a mixture of mortal and magical protections and wards. Ava attempts to extend her new senses to detect any changes or secret glamours, but nothing triggers them, and she follows Beatrice like a frightened puppy. 

“Yes, absolutely. Remember that we are meeting people outside the complex. They will expect you to be in uniform or in peak fighting condition. I informed them that you were recovering from illness and exhaustion. It wouldn’t be the first time that one of the recruits needs a time-out.” Beatrice reaches out and quickly squeezes Ava’s wrist. 

“Okay then, I will let you lead the conversation, just try not to let me trip over my feet,” Ava asks, not wanting to feel foolish.

Ava keeps her gaze forward, trying not to wince as she observes the four other team members sitting at one of the large tables, chatting casually as if they don’t carry the weight of the world. Ava wonders if she will ever reach a point where she no longer worries about every move and moment. Beatrice steps ahead, pulling out a chair and gesturing for Ava to sit between her and Mary. It’s easy to see that this position offers a clear view of the square and is shaded from the sun. 

“Beatrice, what’s going on? It’s usually Shannon who likes to do the secret spiral elements. Are you and Ava alright?

Ava remains silent, knowing Beatrice will need to take the lead in the conversation. Her training may be progressing well, even better than average, but tactful and diplomatic skills aren’t part of her skillset. Beatrice leans forward, glancing around to ensure they are alone in the quiet space. Apparently, Beatrice has a good rapport with the staff. 

“I am worried that somebody is putting Ava in danger. Were you able to get the file and entry codes?” Beatrice whispers, holding out her hands. “Nothing is escalating at this point; we are staying at my family’s complex.” Beatrice holds out her hand with an impatient look.

“Who would go after Ava? Everybody knows that leadership is clear that she is off limits and must be handled with care. You’d be risking everything for such little gain. What are your symptoms? Do we need to consider decontamination protocols?” Shannon leans closer, her voice fierce. 

“Not unless you consider me to be such an intruder. I’ve been interacting with Bea and everyone else enough that if anything were contagious or dangerous, there would be a ward of victims. Besides, the symptoms are specific to the girl who couldn’t walk for most of her life.” Ava wills herself not to get so defensive and angry. Beatrice reaches out, places a comforting hand on her forearm, and gives her a warning look.

“There is always a chance that people are breaching our defences, that’s why they warn us about it in training, but I’ve gone through the protocols, and it seems unlikely. However, I need your help to prove what’s going on, Shan,” Beatrice insists gently, staring down her colleague. 

Ava has heard most of this story before when explaining the toxicology and the challenges that she and Beatrice faced over the last ten days when Ava started to get sick. The newbie to the group doesn’t realise how closely she is listening to the lingo and secrecy, but it turns out that she mostly follows the conversations when Mary and Camila start exchanging technical terms and referring to supernatural elements. However, many of these deaths and difficulties sound terribly unpleasant.

“Your girl is turning grey, Beatrice,” Shanann warns, her eyes flicking over to Ava, who does her best to sit up straight but fails.

“Don’t worry, Silva. Things might not be as dire as our current projections suggest with the speed running. Mary and I need to be back for a briefing. Camila is falling in love with one of the handsome nurses and is going on a date.” Mary tries to soften her unfriendly features, and the effect is somehow more terrifying. 

Camila shoots her friends a look but then shifts back to the conversation, discussing the next research and plans to keep Ava safe when she returns to the complex and begins training. She mentions the people they will need to contact, shadowing during mealtimes and training sessions. Ava enjoys structure and sequences. While she would miss spending time alone with Beatrice, at least she won’t face the terror of experiencing symptoms. Beatrice reaches out and holds her hand under the table. 

“Here I was thinking that I won my golden ticket, now I’m becoming the weakest wildebeest in hurt, complete with nature documentary tone.” Ava shakes her head but willingly takes up the folders and information, relieved that she and Beatrice will return to the estate.

“Nothing is so bleak as that, we all go through stages of being the wildebeests at different stages. You won’t be the first or the last to face supernatural poisoning dramas. We will solve the mystery, Silva. I will see you back in the training yards when Beatrice has you in peak condition, in more than one way.” Mary gives her a considering look that isn’t especially subtle.

“Mary, stop that, we have work to focus on, come on, Ava, I will shout you a taste-tested milkshake.” Beatrice hisses fiercely.

“Yes Ma’am, I will look forward to receiving your orders in person.” Shannon cannot resist the mock salute.

The tall and stern scholar doesn’t entertain any arguments on the topic; she remains beside Ava’s chair, accurately recognising that hours of intense conversation drain her limited energy. Being no longer poisoned and facing a threat isn’t the same as making progress and feeling equally healthy. Somewhere in the past ten days, she and Beatrice have become a coordinated team, including holding afternoon sessions.

Ava waves awkwardly at the group [ before turning and obediently following Beatrice’s long strides. Beatrice turns into a small alleyway, where the travel wheelchair is stored away from the group, knowing that Ava will be extra self-conscious about needing the aid when walking after training so actively. However, the combination of temperature, fatigue, and psychological pressure means that Ava sinks into the chair, feeling relieved to get off her feet. She smiles up at Beatrice underneath the broad sunhat.

“Do you mean you will let me in the malt milkshake supplier?”                                  

“If you are lucky and make sure to rest after all the energy of the day. We can look at the big picture in the morning, we can have a long milkshake break, swim and then nap?” Beatrice starts pushing the chair, laughter in her voice.

“You are much better off wake up to the church bells.”