Work Text:
“Nes.”
Cassian’s voice was hard. It was Nesta’s least favorite tone - the shuttered, quiet manner that told her Cassian was putting up his walls. She had only ever heard him do it around fae that made him feel unworthy - Eris, sometimes Devlon. Those who reminded him that he was a bastard, and a brute.
Nesta cringed as she counted herself among them.
She looked past him, over his shoulder and into the emptiness beyond the threshold of her dingy apartment. It was, despite the grunge, more palatable than seeing the hurt on Cassian’s face morph into sympathy. His compassion for her cruelty was endless, and the shame of it pierced through her.
But she couldn’t help but want it, to be grateful for it.
“Hey,” he growled, hand waving in front of her face. “You want a fight, Nesta? Let’s fight. I can take it. I won’t break.” He stepped towards her, blocking her view of the hallway. Her eyes fixed on the Siphon atop his shoulder. It was pulsing rapidly, and Nesta faintly wondered if it matched his heart rate. Gods knew hers was skyrocketing.
“I’ll even teach you, to put some bite behind your pretty words,” he murmured. Nesta shook her head, stepping back.
“Get out, Cassian,” she whispered. He chuckled, but it was humorless. She felt that familiar ire begin to well up, but it was stilted, blocked by something else - apathy? Fear? It had been such a long day, a longer night - the longest night, in fact - and she was tired from fighting past the sound of fire crackling in the hearth at her sister’s palatial manor.
“How can I leave when you’re like this?” he questioned, voice gentler than she deserved. Her eyes shot to his, narrowing at the insult-
“Like what ?” she hissed, pointing a sharp finger into his chest. “When I’m so full of poison that no one can stand me? When I’m desecrating the perfect city your High Lord built? When I’m-”
“When you’re just waiting to die, Nes,” Cassian intoned, eyes intent on her own. Her breath caught. “I see you, Nesta. I see what you’re doing and I won’t let you.”
Nesta knew her chest was rising and falling rapidly, knew that Cassian could see it and could sense the panic that was starting to build. Were her eyes already glowing that horrid silver, so full of terrible power that she didn’t want?
He was reaching out a hand, so inviting.
“You don’t get to decide that,” her voice was gravelly as she bit out the words. Cassian kept his eyes on her own as he wrapped his hand around the delicate finger that was still pressed to his chest.
“Tell me what you need, Nesta, and I’ll give it to you. Whatever you need to keep breathing, I’ll give you.”
His words were solid and steady - but soft. A world away from that hard tone she hated so much. Cassian was almost pleading with her, so focused on her. She wanted to cry at his resolve, the purity of his words - had there ever been a male so righteous and so good?
But she shook her head, trying desperately to clear away the burning pressure. No, no - there was nothing he could give.
“I want to be alone, Cassian,” she lied.
It was his turn to shake his head.
“Ask me to stay, Nesta,” he whispered. She stared at him, marveling in the boldness.
Nesta tried to rally that anger, to build up those walls and shut him out once more. Why did she even go to that party tonight? She’d never leave again; she’d let herself melt into ash and be buried in the ruins of this pitiful building.
It wouldn’t come. Empty, empty hollowness swallowed up the rage and the vitriol and closing her eyes was all she could do to keep from caving in on herself.
“Ask me to stay,” he repeated, impossibly softer. Nesta tried to pull her hand from his, where he had pinned it against his chest, but he held tight. “Ask me to stay and I won’t ask any more questions,” he bargained.
Nesta wondered if he could see the disbelief and mistrust on her face. She used to pride herself on her infallible mask, but the drinking and the nightmares and the paranoia and the thousand other hurdles she was contending with had eroded everything she used to be.
He was looking at her so earnestly, offering such vulnerability that she had a half thought that if she bit at him just right, he would walk away for good. This was her chance to make the fatal blow that would show him how unworthy of him she was.
The words were almost falling from her lips, but no - something tugged, some soft feminie voice that whispered Breathe, my Nesta.
She couldn’t help but obey, taking a frantic gulping breath through her mouth. Cassian’s eyes flickered over her face, worry etched into the faint crows feet and smile lines and that insufferable dimple on his chin.
He squeezed the finger he still held captive, twice in a soft rhythm, a pulse to say I’m here, I’m here , and without thinking, Nesta found herself nodding.
But she couldn’t say it, that easy request he had asked of her. So she stepped backwards, tugging him with her by their connected hands, chest heaving with the force of her breath. She prayed to whatever gods were out there - let him see it, let it show.
Stay , she thought. Stay and never leave. Give me something to live for.
She couldn’t tell if Cassian saw those thoughts or something else, but he ducked slightly under the door frame, stepping fully into the dark apartment she had resigned herself to. He turned slightly to shut the door, never letting go of her finger, unwilling to sever the fragile connection that held them.
“Show me,” he murmured, nodding at the four locks. Nesta didn’t even try to unwind her hand from his, and instead used her other hand to turn the bottom two deadbolts, letting the solid thunk of each lock ground her. Then came the door chain, and finally, the bulkiest - a solid iron padlock hooked into two loops screwed into the door and the frame. With a grim smile, Nesta let her fingers slide from the metal, savoring the weight of it.
She liked the padlock best. It was her first purchase, after the deposit on the apartment. The iron sang to her like an old friend, a reminder of the strength she used to have and the safety she used to imagine. Now she only hoped the padlock caused more trouble than she was worth for anyone trying to get inside.
When her hand fell back to her side, Cassian slowly loosened his grip, just enough to fully twine their fingers together. His other hand came to push a stray hair back behind her ear as his eyes roamed over her face.
Nesta kept her eyes on the locks, anxious now that she was alone with him in her space. And for all its dirt and grimness, it was hers. She used to imagine herself a queen regnant over a vast and ethereal kingdom, but her hateful choices had led her to this dominion instead.
“I’m tired, Nesta,” Cassian stated, so softly, as if he could avoid disturbing the dust and grime if he only spoke quietly enough. She remembered his promise - ask me to stay, and I won’t ask any more questions .
Nesta wanted to laugh, but what came out instead was a choked sob - so heavy and unwelcome it sent her folding forwards. Cassian was quick to catch her, to lean her against his chest as another cry broke from her.
“Nes? Nesta-”
“I’m so tired,” she managed to cry, words garbled from her tears and from her face pressed into him. “But I can’t sleep and I don’t even want to, I just want to- to…” Nesta trailed off, a strange empty calmness reaching her.
This is it, she thought, apathy seeping through her. The breaking point. And from the way Cassian had stilled beneath her face, she figured he knew it, too.
So slowly, so carefully, Cassian wrapped his arms around Nesta’s body. He was warm, and solid, and strong - all fire and muscle to her ice and bone. She was tucked up under his chin, breathing in the glowing embers and cold snow that was his scent.
The embrace, the comfort - it didn’t change anything, and yet…
And yet.
✤
The next morning, the dawn came gray and cold, and Nesta woke to Cassian sitting across the room, precariously slumped on the single wooden chair she owned. She observed him for a moment, noting the furrow between his brows that told her he was thinking hard about something.
He stayed.
Tears pressed behind her eyes, and she blinked furiously, trying to rid herself of that weakness, that emotion before it could take hold, before she broke as thoroughly as she did last night-
But his eyes snapped to hers, in that moment, like he was always looking for her, like he always knew where she was. And the softness that gentled his brows, his face - she couldn’t blink the tears back fast enough.
She settled for turning her face into the scratchy blanket she’d been using for the better part of a year. It reminded her of the ones they’d used in the cottage, once the linens had been worn through and washed enough to barely keep in any heat.
The creaking of the chair told Nesta that Cassian had stood. Hastily wiping her face, she brought the blanket up higher to her chin as she turned to face him. He hadn’t come much closer - just to the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” he murmured. Nesta stared, wide-eyed, before nodding back her own hello.
“I want breakfast,” he said, simply. Nesta narrowed her eyes, ready to snap back that he could help his godsdamned self if he was so hungry, but that same tug from yesterday stopped her. Breathe, my Nesta , it whispered.
So, she did, and nodded again. He nodded back.
“It’s chilly, so dress warm. We’ll walk,” he smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes, but it felt real - if resigned. He turned his back, heading towards the doorway of her bedroom, presumably to give her the privacy to dress.
She tilted her head, assessing. He hadn’t asked her how she was, hadn’t asked her what she wanted, hadn’t berated her, hadn’t commented on the barenness of her kitchen. No more questions. No demands, either - just… answers.
A foreign warmth spread through her. Unnerved her enough that she didn’t think-
“Cassian,” she said, voice croaky from the crying and the disuse. He turned so swiftly she would have missed it with a blink.
The rest of her words dried up. Thank you, she wanted to say. Never leave.
Leave now, before I grow used to you.
It is so hard, to be so alone, and so easy.
I have loved you from the moment you knelt before me and promised to protect my people, before those queens and your brother and my sister.
I don’t deserve you.
But nothing came.
It didn’t matter, anyway, because the devastation on Cassian’s face told her that he saw it all, however it was he learned to read her. And in two steps that swallowed the room beneath his feet, he was in front of her, falling to his knees before the bed, eyes intent on hers.
“I’m not going anywhere without you, Nes. I’ll prove it to you today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, however long you need for you to believe me. You don’t get to give up. And I won’t either,” he swore.
“When we were dying,” Nesta gasped. “When we were dying, you promised me more time. That you would find me again.”
Anguish passed over Cassian’s face as she reminded him of the promise made and broken.
“I need time,” she continued, voice shaking. “I need time.”
Cassian nodded. He reached out his hand, inviting her to meet him. As if he held that time in his large palm, as if she only needed to take it. And with hesitation and a fear that threatened to rend her in two, she laid her hand over top of his, and met his promise.