Work Text:
Bellsona tests the resistance of the manacles binding her hands to the bed frame. Nothing budges. She can hear Eris talking to someone outside, too soft to make out the words. The sound of her voice, the low hum of it, makes something twist inside her chest. She’s pretty sure it’s hate, but some tiny piece of her rebels against the thought. Bellsona twists to look at her wrists. They are rubbed raw and bleeding, but she can not feel it. Good. The door opens and Eris is there, still in her dress even though it is now ripped and filthy. She can just see her out of the corner of her eye. The same twist, that old hatred, moves behind her ribs, threatening to spill out. But, no. She schools her expression into something she hopes reads as hurt and desperation and says,
“Can you undo my tie?” Eris inhales sharply, but so soft it’s almost imperceptible. She walks towards Bellsona, bare feet padding against the floor and askes,
“Do you want your jacket off too?”
“No,” she says, “It’s cold.” She considers. Getting Eris close to her is easy, keeping her there is going to be harder. “But the button, though.” She says. Eris obliges and it is unsettling how the proximity of her nearly makes Bellsona shudder. She brushes her lips against Eris’s hand. She feels desperate. The unbound hate and panic swirling in her chest are making her shaky.
“Don’t.” The pain of Eris’s voice is palpable and that is…confusing. She should be concerned, yes. Concerned that the corruption unstuck so easily. Concerned that Bellsona isn’t going to be her pawn anymore. But she should not have pain in her voice and written so clearly across her face.
“He tried, Eris,” She pauses for effect, “He tried to take you out of my head, but he failed. Over and over again, love.” Bellsona tries to pour as much softness and pain into her expression as she meets Eris’s eyes. Eris still pulls away, quickly enough that it pushes Bellsona’s chin away. The motion is harsh, but Eris still looks so soft . Bellsona’s memories of Eris are hazy now, but all of them involve her face twisted in malice or a snarl. Except –
Eris’s hand against her cheek.
Eris's smile reaching all the way to her eyes.
Eris’s arms tight around her when Sona thought she might break apart.
But Bellsona doesn’t know that those are not manufactured, that those memories are really her own. Enyo is real, and he is waiting for her to just do this. Godolia is a merciful place.
“Is this really how you’re going to do this?” Her voice is quiet, but stronger and steadier than Bellsona would have expected. “I don’t want us to keep hurting each other.”
“I know it is difficult,” She starts, but Eris lets out a cold laugh.
“No you don’t. You–you’re lying. And you don’t even know what this means because you’re not you , Sona. I can’t even ask you how we’re here because you aren’t here. Fuck,’ And she’s crying now, her voice just barely shaking. That steadiness is unraveling.
Bellsona lets tears come to her eyes because they want to anyway, and it’s easy. She is not going to unpack how much she wants to cry right now. She leans in towards Eris, emploring, “Love, I am right here. Please, look at me. I am right here.”
She knots her hands in her shirt and looks Bellsona in the eyes as she says, “Then why didn’t you run with me? If you knew who you were, what we are to each other, why did you stay?”
What we are to each other. Eris is crying like any of this was ever real. Her voice is loud. Bellsona cries harder and the lines between the act and real emotion are fading more quickly than she would like. It is only because she is desperate. She doubles over into Eris. Eris’s chest is heaving and she’s shaking. Or maybe Bellsona is shaking. “I did not know where you were,” She says and it’s a lie. And it’s true. “I would have come for you, you know I would have. Please Eris I love you, I love you–” Eris is talking, her voice frantic and low.
“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” And now she knows who is shaking because it’s both of them, threatening to break apart. Eris is cradling her head so gently and maybe, maybe this is working. They’re crying into each other, and Bellsona feels a million miles away. She realizes she’s still saying it, I love you, without even thinking about it. But this is wrong. Enyo’s face pops up behind her eyelids. She only has one loyalty and it’s not to the girl in front of her. The monster, the person who brought all that hurt into Enyo’s eyes. Eris is pulling away and Bellsona lifts her head slowly to look at Eris and, thank gods, that familiar fury is back and strong in her chest.
“Damn, I really did believe that would work.” Eris’s face slackens. Bellsona intended it to hurt and it must have hit home because she turns and leaves the room.
The other two, Arsen and Juniper she thinks, come in just as she’s working on pulling her hands free. It’s not quite working, but the metal bed frame is bending which makes her feel a little better. They shackle her to the radiator instead, but not before she bites Arsen’s hand.
Bellsona keeps her eyes trained away from them, looking out the window, even as a newcomer speaks. There is a scuffle and her voice is loud and harsh and she’s laughing at Eris.
“Why the fuck would I help you?” She spits. Bellsona tunes in, the argument suddenly becoming more interesting.
“A decent point,” says June.
Eris is speaking now, angry and forceful “She doesn’t know who the hell you are. Godolia didn’t come for you. None of your Valkyries came for you. And then the Academy scrubbed you from Sona’s head. You were a loose end. Making you nothing was barely a footnote on a list of more important things.” Bellsona is confused. They’re talking about the Academy’s corruption as if they didn’t have to undo everything Eris and the Gearbreakers had done. This girl, this Valkyrie, who is still loyal to Godolia hates her. But it must be a trap, a made up scenario intended to confuse her. She errs on the side of caution and paints a smile over her face. Like any of this is funny.
“Rather cruel, Frostbringer.” She looks at the girl. Victoria. The name pops into her head unbidden like things do now. She thinks it maybe was not always like that. None of this makes sense and it makes her head pound. Flashes of memories that aren’t her own keep floating to the surface. Bellsona realizes the conversation has moved on without her and tunes in to hear Eris say,
“It doesn’t hurt her now. It’s going to. When she sees what they did to her, it’s going to hurt her.” Eris’s words are acidic and pained.
There is more back and forth, more of Victoria spitting grotesque things she would like to do to them. She starts listening again as Eris is saying, “I don’t think she’s in a state to cry over my corpse, right, Glitch?”
“Only tears of joy, love,” Bellsona’s words sound hollow, even to her, but it seems to land as intended because Eris looks near tears.
“Enough out of you,” she says.
More of her memories of Victoria are clarifying, now, and she tells her as much. They must have been buried under the corruption, Eris’s corruption. But Victoria is still talking.
“They must have had trouble with me, but tell me if that’s all just black.’
And it is. All of her time at the academy, everything before Eris. Even her time with Eris is blurry except for her . Bellsona could still pick her out in a pitch black room. She can still remember how her lips feel, the warmth of her skin, how– no. She loves Enyo. There is a roaring hatred in her for Eris. Her heart rate is not rising. Her head is swirling and she needs it to stop .
She does not take time to consider it before she turns and smashes her head into a bar of the radiator. It does not hurt because it can not hurt. She thinks maybe that used to upset her. Maybe it should now. She does it again, just to see, and it makes a wave of nausea roll through her. Again, to jolt her brain back into place. Eris is screaming her name. Sona, not Bellsona, and that makes her stomach roll again. There’s a scuffle, Eris must have let go of Victoria because Juniper grunts out a curse as a blow lands, and then Eris’s hands are on Sona’s face and it doesn’t matter. Her hands are warm and Sona is suddenly so, so cold. She tries again to hit her head, but Eris intercepts by placing her hand between her forehead and the bar. Eris uses her other hand under her chin to turn Sona’s face towards her.
“Please,” she says and it’s so soft and desperate, “Please stop.” Sona curls into the touch as a sob wrecks her. It’s the first real thing she’s felt for nearly as long as she can remember. She looks at Eris and there is no hate. All she can feel is relief, like coming home.
“Oh god,” Sona’s voice sounds hysterical to her own ears, but she can’t stop, “Fuck, oh god.” There’s panic working its way up her throat. Panic because she’s so relieved that Eris is here, and because she shouldn’t want that at all. “I’m so, god, Eris I’m so confused.” Her head is splitting with pain she shouldn’t be able to feel. It reminds her of a small, cold room. Enyo with a knife. “What’s happening to me?” It comes out small, whispered between sobs, and Eris inhales sharply.
“They,” Eris takes a deep breath, “They messed with your head Sona. I’m so sorry.”
“No, you did.” They told her how it happened. They told her. “You messed with my head and the Zenith had to fix it. Enyo had to fix me .” Why does it feel so wrong when she says it then?
“You know that isn’t true, and it’s sick that they made you think it. They killed your parents, Sona.” Her heart is beating so fast. There are tears on her face and she recognizes distantly that she is still crying very hard. “Think about it. Have you ever felt like this before? Can you even remember life before this? How it really was, not whatever bullshit narrative they fed you. They have taken everything from you over and over and you would hate this.” Eris spits the words out, but her anger is not directed at Sona. Eris is angry for her and for herself. She is not lying. This is real, this is real, this is real.
“I think it is worse if you are right,” Sona says, and means it. “I think this is worse.” Her voice breaks on the last word and there is so much pain in Eris’s expression.
Eris is still holding Sona’s cheek, but she shifts to let Sona’s head rest against her shoulder when she falls into her. Eris’s arms are tentative when she brings them up, a hand on the back of Sona’s head, one on her waist. It feels so good to be held. For Eris to hold her.
“Don’t untie me,” She says, pulling back, suddenly frantic, “I don’t…know what I’ll do.” Eris almost manages a laugh, but there’s nothing behind it.
“I wasn’t planning on it, Glitch,” and then she must see the look on Sona’s face because she says “I won’t. I promise.”
“Good. Okay. Fuck. Eris, how did we get here? How did we get here? ” And she’s crying again because nothing feels real except for this moment right here and Eris’s arms. She wants so desperately to be able to feel her own pain, to let it ground her. They took that away from her, and now they’ve taken her memories and feelings. They . Godolia. The Academy. Enyo.
They killed her parents. The realization is not new, she always knew, but it feels fresh. The feeling of being buried alive is around her like it happened yesterday. The raw terror and hurt of everything they’ve done comes crashing around her all at once and threatens to swallow her whole. She was working for them, supporting them, and she loved them. And now the panic rising in her throat isn’t panic at all. Eris must sense it, because when Sona vomits she has already moved out of the way. Her hands stay, though, holding Sona’s hair back. That night in the desert comes back to Sona in a wave. Eris holding her, taking care of her. Writhing in her bed before Eris found her. Eris knowing exactly what she needed with one word. But, no, that had happened first. Fuck. Before the entire world crashed down around them for the thousandth time. Eris has an arm around her shoulders and she is so solid and real.
But so was Enyo . The voice is small and unwanted, but not untrue. All their time together. All the quiet afternoons. Enyo cutting her tattoos off of her. That memory doesn’t belong, but none of them fit together anyway. Her hate and her love are twisted together, double sided things.
“I’m going crazy,” She says, but she’s not sure the words made it out coherently. Or at all. “I’m losing my mind.” Sona is not sure how she has any more tears left in her. “Eris, I think I am losing my mind.” She doesn’t need to breathe, but she can’t get enough air.
“You’re going to be okay, love,” Eris says. Her voice is so, so sad and Sona thinks maybe she’s saying it to reassure herself too. She’s moving, her hands on Sona’s hands, and then her arms are free. No .
“You promised,” She’s panicked again, “You said you would not. Don’t let me go.” Don’t let me go back to them .
Eris’s breath hitches, so rough it sounds painful.
“I won’t. I won’t. Just let me…” She gently moves Sona’s arms in front of her and reshackles them together. Eris pulls Sona in so tight and so close that she can feel how hard Eris is shaking. Sona wishes she could hold Eris because it wouldn’t fix it but she can’t stop hurting her and maybe it would help just a little. Eris rests her cheek on the top of Sona’s head and pulls her impossibly closer. The panic ebbs just a little.
Juniper’s voice is soft from the doorway, “Eris?” Her footsteps cross the floor to them and it sounds like she kneels down.
“I’m sorry,” Sona says, and it’s not enough, “Will you tell Arsen? I am so sorry.” She can’t even look at her. It’s shameful, but she keeps her face pressed into Eris. She’s not even fully sure what she’s sorry for, but she is. She is still so unsure. Godolia is a merciful place .
“Yeah,” Juniper says. She places a tentative hand on Sona’s shoulder, just for a second. “I brought you a blanket and some bandages,” she says, more to Eris, “We don’t have any spiders, but her…her head. You should bandage it.”
“Thanks, June,” Eris says, and Sona can tell she’s struggling to keep her voice steady. She always, stubbornly, has to be so strong for them. Juniper leaves and Sona keeps her face pressed into Eris. She comes back after a moment and it must be just to clean the bile off the floor because she leaves quickly. Sona thinks that’s something she will probably never be able to pay Juniper back for. She was really not looking forward to sleeping next to it.
“Do you think this is the worst of it?” Sona asks, “Or do you think I’m going to wake up trying to kill you again?” She is not sure they can handle that. She really doesn’t know if that will be their breaking point. Eris wraps the blanket around her, and Soma had not realized how cold she is. It’s bone deep.
“I’m not giving up on you, Glitch. I told you I’m not letting you go,” Eris says, ““I’ll keep reminding you who you are.”
“Are you sure you know?” Sona asks, “Who I am.” She hopes Eris knows she’s not being rhetorical.
“Yes.” Eris doesn’t hesitate. “Do you remember why I call you Glitch?”
Sona nods, but says, “Tell me,” anyway.
“You’re not supposed to exist, you defied everything you were supposed to be. I love you for it.” Eris takes a deep breath. “I missed you so much.” Sona is suddenly so, so tired. She feels very small in Eris’s arms.
“Can I sleep?” She asks.
“Yeah,” Eris pulls away and Sona steels herself for the prospect of sleeping away from her, but she’s just moving them so her back is against the wall. It is not quite comfortable, using Eris’s lap as a pillow, but it is so much better than being without her. She looks up at her.
“Are you okay?” Eris laughs but it bubbles out of her like a sob.
“No,” She closes her eyes, “But I think I might be, in a bit.”
“I’m sorry,” Sona says, because she is. She will be sorry for this forever.
“Don’t you dare apologize for this,” Eris says, “Some other stuff? Maybe. We’ll get there. But not for this.” She puts a hand on Sona’s head, running her fingers through her hair, soft and gentle. “Go to sleep. I’m going to bandage your head.” Sona closes her eyes and focuses on Eris’s touch, the way she dabs at her head wound with such care, like Sona might be hurt by it.
Sona does not remember falling asleep, but she must because her dreams are bloody and when she wakes up she is panicking. Her hands are bound and she hasn’t felt so helpless in a long time. She is so sick of crying. Of feeling like her chest is caving in. Eris does not shush her or tell her everything is going to be okay, just helps her sit up and brushes her fingers over her cheeks to wipe away her tears.
“Look at me, Sona.” She does, but she keeps her eye closed and the mod disengaged. She wants to see Eris in full color. It helps just to see her face. It helps. “Do you want me to take them off?” Sona realizes she’s pulling at the manacles and her wrists are screaming red.
“Please,” She gasps, and Eris does immediately. Someone must have brought Eris a sweatshirt because she is wearing one over the dress and Sona tangles her fingers in the fabric of her sleeves. She breathes slowly, just for the calming rhythm of it. Her heart rate is slowing and she stares at Eris just to test herself. She examines the feelings swirling in her chest, picking them apart for anything that looks like hate. “How can you trust me?” She asks. Because she didn’t find anything, but she does not know how it’s possible for Eris to trust her when she doesn’t even trust herself.
“I just know,” It’s such a surprisingly earnest answer for Eris, even in this moment, that it takes Sona aback, “I know it’s you. Really you, this time. You shit.” There she is. It makes Sona laugh, surprised and rough, but real. Eris kisses her. Her lips are warm and chapped and they taste like salt. Sona aches. It’s like coming up for air.
They stay there, leaning against each other, for as long as they can. Which ends up being as long as it takes for Juniper and Arsen to get worried enough to check on them. Eris promises them they will be there to formulate a plan, but turns to Sona as soon as they leave.
“We’re going to leave, once all this is done,” Eris says, “We’re going to burn all of it down and just…get out. Jenny–” She stutters on her name, her voice almost breaking, and Sona feels incredibly selfish for not thinking of her sooner, but Eris continues, “Jenny is going to fix it all– I don’t think I could make her let me help anyway– and we can just leave, okay?”
“Yes,” Sona says, because it’s all she can say. She wants to not care now . To be able to pick up and leave everything without any guilt, but that isn’t going to happen so she just says, “When it is all over, we will.” And it will have to be enough.