Work Text:
Beatrix was never good at making friends. She spent almost her entire life in hiding, working every day to master her magic so she would be an asset in Rosalind’s cause and, more importantly, make her dad proud. She snorts, eventhough nothing is funny. Look where that got them, Andreas and Rosalind are both death now. She didn’t realize how lonely she was until they were gone.
She guesses you can count Stella as a friend, but she isn’t stupid, she knows the blond fairy would drop her the moment her friends ask her to. Sure, she might protest a little as being her friend is a rebellious act in a way, but she is not a forever kind of friend. Which is a pity, as Beatrix does like her.
Riven dropped her after she ratted him out and Dane, with his obvious massive crush, ended up following him. She isn’t even sure if they were friends to begin with. They had fun in the bedroom though, so that must count for something.
So, here she is, walking around the ruins that were the north wing of Alfea, trying to avoid all the stares, alone again. No matter where she goes, everyone is judging her. Conveniently forgetting that she fought Sebastian, tried to do something for the right side for once, and died in the process. They might also be staring because for some unexplainable reason, she came back. She remembers waking up in the dark and crawling in desperation through the earth when breath was slowly running out. She remembers seeing her headstone, moved a little bit to the side to be separated from the student body that died in the bloodwitch war. Even in death she was nothing but a traitor.
She is the freak that survived death. Who would want to spend time with that?
Sighing, she sits down on the grass, staring at the destroyed walls around her that used to be the history classroom where Mr. Johnson would teach. She can still see him sitting there, sweating like a pig as if we were in the Otherworld’s Sahara and not in Solaria. He used to avoid looking at her as if he was afraid she would electrocute him.
She liked that about him, too bad he died with the others.
The ground is wet beneath her from the latest rainfall. She feels her skirt slowly becoming drenched. When she cannot handle the cold anymore, she gets up again. Taking a few deep breaths, she prepares herself to go back to the main building, preparing herself for the stares. Then she sees him, sneaking on the school grounds like a moron, trying to be the spy he is obviously not. Smirking, her eyes follow his trek towards the lake.
Ah, on his way to visit the stuck-up water fairy it seems. What does he think he will accomplish with searching her out? Taking advantage of her sadness resulting from Bloom’s fate? What a bastard. That might be the first thing she ever liked about him.
Deciding that sitting here by herself was only barely a step-up of pleading someone’s love back, she follows him to see the show.
Moving quickly, she speed walks to catching up. Beatrix does not care if they end up catching her as she is not really trying to sneak around. If they notice her or not, she will have a fun time either way. When she arrives at the scenes, she does decide to hide behind a tree when the water fairy looks up to see Grey staring down at her.
“What are you doing here?”, Aisha starts off, angrily pushing herself from the ground, wiping away some pathetic tears. “I told you I never wanted to see you again.”
Gathering her stuff, she pushes them angrily in her bag, not waiting for a reacting. Grey on his part looks a bit starstruck seeing her. Pathetic. He looks the same as the last time Beatrix saw him, a day or so before she died trying to save the world. (Again, not that anyone cares that she actually did something good.) Later she heard from Stella that he switches sides right after, keeping Sky’s heart beating for Bloom, ignoring her dying next to him. Asshole.
“I wanted to see you.”, Aisha shakes her head, not listening to his words, “You know that what we had was real, I never lied to you.” That did get the girl’s attention.
“You never lied to me; you say? What about you being a bloodwitch? What about Sebastian being your buddy?” Angrily she throws her bag over her shoulder. “You are one big lie, we were nothing.”
He tries to follow when she dramatically walks away, but she waves her arm without looking. A large wave raises up from the lake and drops over him, pushing him back. He watches her leave him until she is out of sight. Messing up his hair in frustration he curses loudly and walks in the opposite direction, toward Beatrix hiding behind a tree pathetically. Quickly she shows herself, leaning against the strong trunk. He barely spares her a glance in his misery.
“That was very anticlimactic, I am disappointed”, she speaks up, but he does not even turn towards her, just keeps on waking away, back to wherever he came from. That is just one person too many refusing to speak to her. He doesn’t deserve to just ignore her; he is not high and mighty. Hell, he is the one who got the bloodwitches in the school. Grey is even lower on the social ladder than she is, he cannot just walk away.
“Hey!”, Beatrix yells out, “I am talking to you.”
“And I am ignoring you”, he replies, not caring.
Her mouth drops open, she watches his back, his blue shirt drenched by Aisha’s magic, the material sticking and showcasing his muscles in the process.
“Why do you even want her to like you?”, she asks again, not letting up as she follows him. He is the first person, next to Stella, that might talk back. Lord, she could be the pathetic between the two of them. “You cannot pretend you spent time with the nerdy, virgin side-kick because you wanted too. I heart Sebastian talking to you, he had asked you before to get close to Bloom and she was the easy way to get there.”
This got him to stop. Turning toward her with the angriest expression she has ever seen him wear, he stakes toward her, his eyes turning bright red as she suddenly has trouble breathing.
“Do not make me do something I will regret”, he snaps, the dark red staring into her own brown eyes while she chokes. She cannot let him win. Focusing on her own magic, she twists her fingers. Eyes flashing blue is the only warning he gets before he is hit with her lighting. He flies through the air, knocking hard against a tree. With his concentration broken she can finally breath again. If she was smarter, she would leave him and go. Beatrix knows that if he wanted to, he could stop her heart without even trying, he could destroy every free will she has, make her do things she doesn’t want and she would not win. But she is too stubborn.
“What did you expect?”, she taunts him. With narrowed eyes he stands back up, unaffected by the hard fall. “You used her as if she were nothing more like a toy.” She laughs without humor, “I guess in the same way as you were used to infiltrate the school. Do you still want to be cosy with Sebby boy?”
Suddenly, against her will, her legs start to move her backward. Her back meets another tree trunk, her arms raise above her head. She stares at him standing against his own tree, two feet from her, pushing back the panic she feels at losing control. They glare at each other for a moment when all of a sudden, her control comes back as he slides down to the ground, resting his head back in exhaustion. She follows his example reluctantly, trying to not feel anything anymore.
“I guess we are the same”, he finally says, breaking the silence between them.
“What do you mean?”, Beatrix sighs, “you and I do not have anything in common.”
He laughs, gesturing between the two of them, sitting there across from each other. “I was a toy. I wanted to do what he says because it could have brought back my brother and release me from my parents’ impossible expectations. In the beginning I did not much care about the details and what might happen to everyone else, selfish I know.” Hands going through his wet hair, a waterdrop hanging from his nose. “And you are exactly the same.”
“How the fuck am I the same?” she grunts annoyed. He laughs dryly. “Can you honestly pretend you don’t know? I may not know you personally, but you are smarter than that, or are you living in denial?”
She wants to pretend he is just saying things to make himself feel better, less alone. But he is right, she is not stupid. She spent almost two years at Alfea being at Rosalind’s beck and call, just to make her father proud. She didn’t even care what bringing back the old headmaster would bring, didn’t care about the destruction that followed as long as Andreas kept being proud of her, kept choosing to be a parent to her, kept her as his daughter.
And then they were gone. Just like that she was aimless and powerless. Desperate to get her lightning back she betrayed everyone again to help Sebastian.
“Right, we are selfish”, she sighs, “but we are also survivors.”
“You do remember you died, right?”, he points out. She glares back, “And you decided not to save me, yes I know, asshole.” At least he has the decency to looks embarrassed.
In another moment of silence, she stares at him. He looks beaten, sad, and just as alone as she feels. Taking a deep breath, she decides to be a bit reckless and slowly moves to sit next to him. Maybe it is because she sees someone who might understand her or maybe it is because she is tired of being lonely. Whatever it is, it ends up with her sitting there, way closer as she probably should as their legs are touching at the nearness.
Sue her, it has been a while since someone touched her either.
“Do you – “, she started with some hesitation, hating herself for appearing weak. He turns toward her, their eyes meet as he raises an eyebrow her way. Taking a deep breath, she tries again, rushing the words out before she loses her nerve. It does not come across casually. “Do you want to hang out for a moment? Before you go back to your bloodwitch camp?”
The silence that follows is deafening as he studies her. When it takes too long, she makes a move to disappear on him, but he stops her by grabbing her hand in his own. “Stay”, he mutters looking back at the lake, not meeting her eyes. “Please.”
She nods. Beatrix intertwines their fingers, wondering how their hands could look so clean even after all the blood that they have spilled. He does not let go, whether it is for his comfort or her own, she does not know. But she will hold on for as long as he lets her.