Chapter Text
“We’ve lost Mary.”
Neither of them know how long they stand there. Everything else falls away as they let the news sink like stones in their chests. They just sob into each other’s necks, clinging to one another as though letting go might cause the Earth to well and truly fall apart.
Eventually, Ava pulls back just enough to wipe the tears from Beatrice's distraught face, eyes still blurry with her own.
Bea leans into her touch gratefully, tenderly pressing Ava’s palm to her cheek before coaxing Ava to sit on the bed beside her.
They sit for another eternity in devastated silence, their fingers entwined between them as they try their best to process the news. Ava has no idea what is waiting for them in Madrid once they get there, but right now she doesn't have the capacity to worry about it. Right now, all she feels is the weight of the events from two months ago and the mounting guilt and grief bubbling up inside her.
Beatrice notices immediately and springs into action the way she always does when she doesn't want to think about her own feelings.
They change and curl up in the quiet with their backs to one another. Ava stares at the wall, willing herself to sleep but it's no use.
She hears a sharp breath. Then another. She holds her breath for a moment, two. Beatrice lets out a tiny hiccuping sob. Ava turns over immediately and instinctively reaches out for her but freezes before she can get too close.
Maybe she shouldn't. Beatrice is always so private and reserved and if she didn't want Ava to see then she should respect that. But at the same time Ava desperately wants to comfort her. Bea’s always been the one she turns to for comfort even though she always maintains her high emotional walls when it comes to her own needs. It drives Ava up the wall, lovingly so, but right now she just wants to help her friend.
Fuck it.
She places a gentle hand on Beatrice’s back.
The crying stops abruptly and Ava almost pulls away. Almost.
“I'm okay, Ava,” Bea’s voice quivers through the dark.
Ava shuffles closer, her hand moving to Beatrice’s waist, pulling her closer.
“No, you're not,” Ava insists.
“You need to rest,” she says by way of dodging Ava's attention.
“Bea,” she doesn't budge. “Bea, please, look at me.”
Beatrice turns over slowly, reluctantly, and lets Ava take her hand and interlace their fingers once more.
“I really am fine, Ava.”
Ava hushes her and shakes her head. “Just this once, let me take care of you, please?”
She wants to add: Let me love you. Please, dear God let me love you. But she knows she can’t.
“I...”
“You don't have to be strong all the time,” Ava whispers.
Beatrice barely catches her reflexive need to deflect as Ava gently brings a thumb to her cheek and wipes away a stray tear. She trusts Ava implicitly, she knows she can lean on her, so why is it so bloody hard? She doesn’t mean to nuzzle into Ava’s touch then, but she's too tired and her mind is much too occupied with other things. She forgets herself for a moment, and allows herself to indulge.
“Thank you,” Beatrice sighs, inching closer still to Ava.
She gently touches her forehead to Ava’s before drawing back a fraction to take her in properly.
Ava’s mouth goes dry then. Bea’s lips are so close to hers and all it would take is the tilt of her jaw for their lips to touch. And God does she want to. She wants to so badly. She doesn't exactly know when these newer feelings for Beatrice happened but she knows she's fallen hard for her best friend. It feels different from her short-lived albeit fun fling with JC, too. This is richer, deeper, more… intimate.
She wants to come home to Beatrice after a late shift at the bar and find her asleep on the sofa because she'd been waiting for her. She wants to wake her gently and kiss her and take her hand and lead her to bed and lay her head on her chest so she can listen to her heartbeat as Bea winds her arms protectively around her before they both fall asleep. She wants to trip over her words and stammer through her puns as she lets Beatrice know that when she flexes her arms like that it's extremely distracting and makes her think things one should not think about someone who has taken their Vows.
Ava wants lazy mornings and sleepy kisses and tender ‘I love you's’ along with all the sparring sessions filled with tension so electric Ava is sometimes worried she'll just blurt her feelings out and ruin everything. She wants so much more too, and now, gazing at Beatrice, she has to force herself to draw back.
Beatrice catches her withdrawing though and squeezes her hand a little tighter, silently willing her to stay close. So Ava does. She nestles in a little closer and presses their foreheads together once more.
The pair of them sigh synchronously, and find rest not long after. They cling to one another throughout the night, neither daring to let go of the other. And when Beatrice wakes the next morning, her heart will hammer at the sight of Ava’s peaceful features, sweetly kissed by the orange glow of the early Alpine sun. She will do her best to swallow her emotions and school the reverrent, loving feelings that swell in her chest when Ava stirs and tucks herself in closer to Beatrice, her lips accidentally brushing the back of her hand, which is still tightly entwined with her own.
She’ll barely have the heart to wake her when it’s time to go. Ava will grumble softly as she rolls out of bed and into their little car that had brought them to this town in the first place. And when they’re barely past the hairpin bends that take them towards the motorway, Ava will fall asleep again and Beatrice will permit herself a glance in her direction. And not for the first time, she will have to tamp down the temptation to let her mind wander and daydream about the things she cannot want but does, and the way things could be but will not be.