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As soon as Ava slips through the portal, Beatrice’s world fades into black and white.
It’s like the edges of her mind snap shut, sealing off any light other than what is directly in front of her.
And what’s directly in front of her isn’t all that bright.
She’d finally found someone who was showing her what it meant to be cared for, at least in some small way. Someone she loved with all that she knew how to give, and who at least claimed to love her back.
Yet, it wasn’t enough.
She wasn’t enough.
Now, she’s alone.
If she’s honest, if this is what love is, then she doesn’t want any of it. When what you love only brings you this , she can’t comprehend why someone would open themselves up to it.
She’s alone.
The pain comes next, gouging through her body in deep lines as the darkness digs in, roots spreading and crawling until every inch of her is packed through and cut open.
She wants it to stop.
The darkness grows.
She wants it to go away.
She collapses down onto the steps in front of the portal, mind completely unable to do anything but stare off into the utter darkness around her.
God, let this be over.
When the others eventually find her in her stupor, there’s a flicker of brightness, but it doesn’t last. Her muscles twitch and ache as the root tendrils only tighten. Still, she fixes her careful mask back on her face and carries on.
God, let this be over.
She stumbles through all that follows, careful to keep everything hidden carefully behind her eyes.
She blends in. It’s what she’s always been good at, afterall, this is just one more thing to keep packed down. Plus, enough people are at least a little bit lost in the new world they find themselves in, so no one notices any fatigue that might show through.
The next time she sees Ava, she’s sitting on the edge of one of the beds in the medical wing. The sheets below her are pristine white, the room around them is nothing but gray stone, and Ava herself is wearing all black, and yet sparks light up around them with more color than Beatrice has ever seen.
It’s as spectacular as it is blinding.
“Hey Bea,” Ava says, holding a hand out in front of herself like an offering.
Beatrice rushes forward on instinct, hands fluttering out in front of herself. One clasps onto Ava’s hand like a lifeline, while the other flits around her torso, not quite touching but desperate to feel her whole and real and no longer broken below her fingertips.
Ava’s face breaks into a gentle smile that fills her cheeks with a slight flush of pink, and she uses her free hand to grab Beatrice’s and push it deep into her own stomach. “I’m fine. Feel,” she whispers, watching Beatrice’s face with a soft kind of patience that pulls at something deep inside of Beatrice’s chest.
She ignores it in favor of basking in the solid, warm, and giving press of the flesh just below the fabric of Ava’s cotton top. It soothes the ghost of a pain Beatrice hadn’t realized was still haunting her fingertips. The pain of the sharp edges of broken bone and overly hot blood that had met her hands the last time she touched Ava.
Her hand wanders on its own accord now, leaving Ava’s behind in favor of checking every place on Ava’s torso that had borne injuries.
She doesn’t realize she’s whispering, “Fine,” over and over again in a desperate chant until Ava’s fingers press into her chin and lips with a trembling caress.
Beatrice’s mouth snaps shut and her eyes find Ava’s again. Whatever words she was going to use to defend her actions die off at the swirling depths of emotion that meet her there. She doesn’t know how to read or comprehend any of it.
“Are you ok?” Ava asks, brow furrowing.
Panic lights down Beatrice’s chest, following the path of all of those roots as they twist and constrict.
She locks down her face, unaware of what expression it might have been showing but desperate to pack whatever it was away. “Of course,” she replies, careful to move her lips behind Ava’s fingertips without revealing how much the brush of them races down her spine.
Ava’s eyes shift, turning harder as they glance down Beatrice, studying her. Her brow furrows more before she returns to meet Beatrice’s gaze. She shifts the hand on Beatrice’s face down to her shoulder and pulls, drawing Beatrice further into herself.
Beatrice has to bite the inside of her cheek to cover the full-body reaction she has to the press of Ava’s inner thighs on the front of her own.
“Are you sure?” Ava asks, keeping her voice low and gentle. She shakes her head once as her eyes trail down Beatrice again. “You look- I don’t know, something feels wrong.”
Beatrice clears her throat and straightens her spine, dreading and relaxing at the small amount of distance that creates between them. “I assure you I am fine. I’m just glad and shocked to see you. Beyond glad.”
Ava’s eyes return. They keep that hard glint to them, but a small smile creeps its way back onto her lips as well. “Beyond glad?” she asks. She tilts her head with the words and her voice takes on that slightly playful lilt to it that melts something deep inside of Beatrice, easing away some of the tension on those roots.
Beatrice swallows roughly and risks pressing forward a fraction, removing the little bit of space she’d created and even ending up closer than they were before. “Did you-” She pauses and closes her eyes, breathing deep before she can continue her words. “Did you hear me before?” she gasps, finally giving life to the question that had teased and haunted her the entire time Ava had been gone.
Ava’s hand squeezes hers while the other creeps back up Beatrice’s neck so that her thumb can stroke along the underside of Beatrice’s jaw. “I did. Bea?”
The clear request in her voice has Beatrice’s eyes fluttering back open to face her.
“I love you, too. You heard that too, right?” Ava asks.
The tension returns, wriggling and twisting around her muscles and bones. It’s all she can manage to gasp out a reply. “I heard.”
Ava’s face cracks into a brilliant smile, flashing even more color in Beatrice’s vision like a kaleidoscope of wonder.
She blames the sheer brightness for the lack of color that follows her around for most of the days after.
Because Ava? Ava is brighter than ever. Her time on the other side only made her blossom, expanding out into the warrior, leader, and beautiful soul that had been creeping through before she left.
Beatrice is in awe of her.
From the moment Ava pulls her into a gentle hug on the edge of that bed, to later that night when Ava slips into her room and crawls into the sheets next to her, to a few days later when Ava asks her to travel the world with her, Beatrice is in awe of her.
It takes them a while to leave. Even with the war thankfully no longer a threat (which is a long story in itself) they have a lot to wrap up with the OCS before they can just leave. It’s about a week later that Beatrice finds herself sitting alone in her room for the first time in a long, long time.
The room is dark.
Beatrice had slipped away to go to bed not long after dinner, but Ava hadn’t joined her yet. She’d chosen to stay up talking and laughing with some of the other Sisters. She’d asked Beatrice to join, but the roots had been tightening in her lungs and the lights had been flashing in her eyes all evening, so Beatrice had declined.
Now, she finds herself sitting alone on the edge of her bed.
In the dark.
There’s a crack on the wall in the far corner of the room. It’s small, maybe the length of her hand and barely wider than a sheet of paper, but Beatrice can’t take her eyes off of it in the gloom.
Her lungs struggle to inflate, compressed and invaded as they are in her chest.
Her head pounds.
Sparks continue to light at the edges of her vision, lancing through her skull.
She doesn’t know how to do this. Any of this.
Ava’s smile dances through her vision, stunning and playful as she slips into the sheets next to Beatrice every night and rests her head on her chest.
It always takes everything in Beatrice not to let her feel the tremble in her arms or the catch in her breath when she wraps Ava up and snuggles her close.
She stares at the crack in the wall.
Every morning, when Beatrice’s conditioning wakes her before dawn and her muscles tense with the desire to rise for the day, Ava always leans up and presses her lips to the shell of her ear, whispering sweet I love you s and Stay with me s until Beatrice acquiesces and eases back into the cushions while Ava gets a few more hours of sleep next to her.
The growing light peaking through the edges of their curtains always sparks across her eyelids, making her ever more aware of how desperately her life has changed in such a short amount of time.
Not too long ago, she would have been done with a workout and half-way through sparring practice by the time the light was bright enough to turn their curtains yellow. Back then, her strength and skill as a warrior was all that mattered. Back then, she knew that her worth would only ever be determined by how well she could serve her mission and defend her Sisters when they were under fire.
Now, she’s still under fire but she has no idea how to defend herself. Her body lays open and vulnerable, limp and tense in all the wrong ways where it folds around Ava’s soft, gentle curves.
Beatrice stares at the wall.
The darkness is comforting, finally easing some of the pressure in her eyes.
She can’t just lay down and sleep, no matter how heavy the pressure is to do so.
She’s terrified to sleep alone.
How does she know Ava will still be there when she wakes, cuddling into her chest and asking her to stay.
The room grows darker somehow, yet she can still see the crack.
The crack stares back.
Her chest twinges in echoed sympathy.
She doesn’t realize she’s crying until later, much later, when the soft rustle of the doorknob turning in the latch carries through the room. Beatrice blinks, finally feeling the hot wetness on her face as she tunes into the noise. It’s delicate and slow, as if the person on the other side is opening it as carefully as possible in hopes of not causing too much noise. Beatrice’s hand flies up to her face to scrub away the evidence as her mind finally kicks back on and floods her with adrenaline.
Ava can’t see her like this.
She slides back onto the bed and slips under the covers as quickly and silently as possible. A moment later, a beam of light strikes through the room, widening as Ava pushes her way in. Beatrice snaps her eyes closed until she can just barely peek through the crack between the lids, and works to even her breathing into some semblance of sleep.
Ava slides into the room, closing the door behind her with just as much care. She pauses at the end of the bed.
Beatrice watches her, heart pounding hard in her chest as Ava just stands there and watches her back.
Beatrice’s heart pounds harder, sure that Ava can see all evidence of her weakness even with the dark surrounding them.
Don’t see. Don’t see. Don’t see. As she prays, the words echo through her head in time with her heart.
Yet, after just a few seconds, Ava moves again. She darts around the room on silent feet, using all of the training she’d gained recently to get ready for bed so quietly that Beatrice is certain she really wouldn’t have woken if she really were asleep.
She uses the extra minute or two to try and slow her heart and regulate her breathing further before Ava eventually joins her in bed.
When Ava does slip under the sheets a moment later, it’s with just as much care and consideration as before.
Beatrice’s heart aches and cracks.
Ava inches up to her, wrenching open the cracks in Beatrice’s chest with every movement. As her hand eventually does wrap around Beatrice’s hips so that she can curl her fingers around her forearm, Beatrice’s body receives her with equal amounts of fire and pain.
But then, instead of melting into Beatrice’s back like she’d expected her to, Ava freezes.
“Bea?” she asks, voice alarmed.
Don’t see. Don’t see. Don’t see.
Beatrice holds position in a desperate attempt to keep up the facade, willing Ava to believe it so she doesn’t have to face it.
Ava’s fingers slide up and down the exposed skin on Beatrice’s arm. “Bea, I know you’re awake. Your skin is chilled to the bone, what’s going on? Were you still up?” Ava says.
Beatrice sighs, body deflating as all of the air is pulled from her very depths. “I’m fine, just couldn’t sleep.”
Ava’s hand squeezes again and she shifts behind her. The heat against Beatrice’s back disappears as Ava sits up on her elbow so she can lean over Beatrice in an attempt to see her face.
“What’s wrong? Why did you pretend to be asleep when I came in?”
Beatrice swallows and turns her face into the pillow a little more, still half-hoping she can hide at least some of her failure. “It’s nothing. No need to bother you with it. Let’s just sleep.”
Don’t see. Don’t see. Don’t see.
Ava’s hand leaves her forearm and slides up to her chin, asking her to turn and face her with the gentlest pressure.
Beatrice resists.
“Bea? Beatrice? Why won’t you look at me?” Ava asks.
Beatrice can’t ignore the slight crack in her voice this time.
She swallows again and then braces herself before rolling onto her back, laying herself open and exposed in front of the other woman. She knows there’s just enough light in the room for her to see all of the cracks. She doesn’t meet Ava’s gaze, but she can feel the warm prickle along her skin as she takes her in. There’s a shift in the cushions next to her and Ava’s body leans closer while her hand reaches around to cup the other side of her head.
“You’ve been crying,” Ava whispers, voice cracking further.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Beatrice says again.
There’s a pause between them. It hangs tense and heavy in the air.
“I’m here with you. You know that, right?” Ava asks eventually.
Beatrice tilts her chin down in a sharp nod, not trusting herself to speak.
Ava’s fingertips tremble as they dance around her cheeks, clearing away the last remains of her tears.
“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere,” Ava says.
Beatrice nods again.
Ava leans closer, face coming to a stop just inches from Beatrice’s own. “You can talk to me, you know? I promise. Whatever it is, I’m not going anywhere again.”
Another shaky sigh leaves Beatrice, causing the vines to slither and twist into the empty spaces the air left behind.
“I’m fine. It’s nothing,” she manages, gasping the words around everything else she wants to say more but refuses to let out of her chest.
Ava sighs and nods at her, lips curling down further as the edges. “Ok,” she whispers. Her fingers run another circuit around her face before she shifts again and settles into her normal place on Beatrice’s chest. “I love you.”
Beatrice swallows and pulls in a breath, wincing at the burn of the air ripping its way back in. “I love you, too,” she whispers back.
Eventually, they sleep.
The next morning, when Beatrice wakes before the sun and Ava presses her lips into her ear, they bring a different plea.
“Tell me what happened after I left. What did you do when you thought I was gone?” Ava asks.
The muscles in Beatrice’s throat constrict, squeezing painfully on top of the words that pile up against them.
“Please, Bea? Talk to me.” Ava pleads.
Beatrice clears her throat, managing to loosen it enough to speak. “At first, everything was in such an uproar. The world was in chaos, Jillian was a wreck, Mother Superion was trying to help the Church regain leadership while also gathering up what was left of the OCS. All I could do is throw myself in it with the others, doing what I could to help.”
Ava’s arms tighten around her. “You didn’t take any time off? Any time to heal?”
“I healed,” Beatrice defended immediately. “Working is my default, I was fine. Plus-”
“Beatrice,” Ava interrupts, a slight scold in her tone, but Beatrice keeps going.
“ Plus , after a few weeks we got things mostly settled down, so I left for about a week. I decided to go back to our apartment. We only took the essentials when we left and our rent was still good for a while longer, so I wanted to clean it up better and…see it again.”
“You went back,” Ava breathes.
“Yes. It-it was good. Healing. When I felt I had some closure I came back. I had only been back but a few days when you returned as well.”
Ava tucks her face a little deeper into the pillow next to her ear and her hot breath rolls across her ear. “So you’d just finally let yourself grieve and try to move on when I came back,” Ava says.
Beatrice startles, turning her head sharply to try and catch Ava’s eye. “It wasn’t like that,” she says in a rush, not completely sure what she was even denying.
Ava smiles at her, reaching a hand up to cup her cheek again. “It’s ok, Bea. You had no idea if I would come back. I can’t even imagine what that was like. I’m glad you had the chance to heal some. I wouldn’t blame you if you’re still feeling somewh-”
“I’m not. I’m fine,” Beatrice snaps. She sits up, pulling herself out of Ava’s arms so she can sit on the edge of the bed.
The crack in the corner of the room catches her attention in the early morning light and she snaps her eyes closed.
She hears Ava shuffling around behind her, but thankfully she doesn’t try to touch her.
“I’m sorry,” Ava whispers.
Beatrice chokes on her next breath. She shakes her head harshly and then tilts her chin up, opening her eyes to stare at the ceiling. “No, no, I’m sorry. I think I just need to go for a run. I’ll see you later.”
She stands and starts getting dressed before Ava has the chance to reply.
Ava stays oddly silent the entire time she gets ready. It’s only when she’s reaching a hand out for the doorknob that Ava says anything else. “I love you, Bea. I’m here for you, when you’re ready,” Ava says.
Beatrice doesn’t reply as she rushes out of the room.
When she gets outside, she sprints and sprints until her lungs burn with so much fire that she can’t feel anything else at all.
It takes her a long, long time to jog back. When she gets there, Ava doesn’t press. She merely smiles at her and lays a kiss on her cheek.
They leave for Switzerland first. Ava’s reasoning is that they’d spent all that time there, but she never really got to enjoy it, so now they were going to live up every part they could.
Beatrice doesn't object.
They move between cute little hotels and B&Bs, taking in the sights and doing everything that Ava’s always wanted to do.
One morning, after about two weeks on the road, Beatrice is walking back from grabbing them pastries and coffees at their new favorite bakery down the street. She’s been slipping out of bed early ever since their conversation that one morning. She doesn’t always leave as early as she could, more often than not she allows Ava to pull her back into the cushions for at least a while longer. But, she has started getting up before Ava does on most mornings. She enjoys the time alone, allowing her thoughts to settle and her emotions to flux while she doesn’t have to worry about what might be showing on her face.
About what Ava might see.
Still, it eats at her. She knows she shouldn’t want this time away. She knows she shouldn’t want to cover herself from Ava.
Ava, who’s always so supportive and loving.
Ava, who watches her with such light and brilliance and understanding.
Ava.
So, she does things like this. She sneaks out to pick up a treat down the street, or she makes them breakfast at home and greets Ava with a kiss and her favorite song playing on the radio.
Ava always grins at her thoughtfulness and whispers her thanks in her ear. It fills Beatrice up, pushing down all of her other thoughts and easing some of the constricting tendrils still slowly eating their way into every crevice of her body.
Still, she knows Ava knows. No matter how hard she tries to keep up her mask, she knows she knows.
And all she wants to be able to do is be that back for Ava. She just doesn’t know how.
All she knows is what happened last time she tried.
So, on this morning as she walks back with their breakfast, she also passes a little cart selling flowers and it catches her eye. Without thinking about it too much, she buys a bouquet of roses, even though it makes her struggle to carry it all the rest of the walk.
Ava’s awake and sitting at the little table in their hotel room when Beatrice walks in. Her face lights up at the sight of her, grin only doubling when she sees everything in Beatrice’s hands.
Beatrice smiles back, gesturing awkwardly that the roses are for her once the door closes behind her.
Ava leaps up from her chair and rushes forward to take the flowers from her, breathing them in and fixing Beatrice with an adoring pout.
“What brought this on?” Ava asks.
Beatrice shrugs and jostles around her in the doorway so she can start laying out her other items on the table. She listens to Ava dance around behind her, bouncing in her steps as she places the roses in a vase that’d been sitting on the entry table by the door.
Beatrice’s hands tremble as she pulls the pastries out of the bag. “Ava,” she calls, mouth working faster than her mind can catch up.
Ava hums distractedly behind her. Beatrice doesn’t turn to look, but by the soft rustling she can hear she imagines Ava’s fully entranced in arranging the flowers to look just right.
Beatrice clears her throat. “I didn’t see any light in the world when you were gone. There was no light. I only saw light again when you came back, and even now I only see it when you’re in the room.”
She keeps her back to Ava, holding completely still as Ava processes the words behind her in pure silence.
It’s an eternity before either one of them does anything else. Eventually, Beatrice can’t take the silence any longer and she moves, rushing over to the small kitchenette to get plates and napkins that neither of them really need.
Her breathing is shaky in her chest when she has the items in hand, panicking at the idea of turning around and meeting whatever shock and horror-filled expression she’s going to find on Ava’s face.
But then warm hands appear on her hips. She startles slightly, jumping forward a bit but not far enough to leave Ava’s grasp.
Ava flexes her fingers, a clear apology for scaring her, before leaning her head forward to press her face between her shoulder blades. “Ok,” Ava breathes.
She doesn’t say anything more than that.
Beatrice doesn’t reply.
They stand there together, swaying gently in the morning light for a long time.
The coffees are cold by the time they finally do make it back to the table, but neither of them mention it.
They don’t talk about the other thing either.
It becomes a habit, though. Even though Beatrice still can’t get herself to open up to Ava’s face, sometimes, occasionally, in the morning when the light is bright and she can keep her back to Ava, Beatrice digs into that crack in her chest and finds something to pull out to show her.
She’s afraid to sleep alone, scared that Ava’s return will be nothing but a dream.
She’d cried the whole time she was cleaning out their apartment. She was so dehydrated and overwhelmed by the end that she took an extra day just to sleep and chug water in a sketchy hotel somewhere along the way between Switzerland and Cat’s Cradle.
She’s scared she doesn’t know how to love Ava.
She’s even more scared she doesn’t know how to take Ava’s love in return.
Ava accepts all of these little confessions with grace. Everytime, she holds Beatrice close for a while before they move on with their day.
They keep exploring, eventually making their way through Spain and even France.
Bit by bit, some of the constricting ache eases its way out of Beatrice’s lungs.
Eventually, she starts whispering her confessions into Ava’s ear when they’re curled up in bed at night.
Ava opens up too, telling her more about her childhood both before and after the accident.
Even though most of it fills Beatrice with a kind of rage she’s never known before, it’s good.
It’s so good.
They keep traveling.
Months later, when they’ve exhausted most of Ava’s main list, they make their way back to Cat’s Cradle for a long visit. When they arrive, Ava leaves her alone in the room for a few minutes to unpack and Beatrice’s eyes land on a small crack in the corner of the room.
This isn’t the same room as before of course, it’s not even on the same floor, but it’s such an old building that most of the rooms are cracked in similar ways, and this crack looks strikingly similar to the one from before. It catches Beatrice off-guard and she sinks down onto the edge of the bed, completely lost in her thoughts as she stares at the crack.
So much has changed. She’s in such a completely different place. And, no matter how deep she digs in her chest, she can’t find the panic that was there before.
Some of the roots are still there, sure, but many of them are also cut-off and shriveling up inside of her instead of growing.
She jumps when Ava walks into the room a moment later. It breaks her eyes away from the crack and she shakes herself out of it as she turns to face the other woman.
Ava stands frozen at the door, brow pinched at the edges. “You ok, Bea?” she asks.
Beatrice smiles at her, and it only grows when she realizes it’s a completely honest smile. She’s not packing anything away or keeping herself closed off, she’s just smiling at Ava and willing her to see everything she wants to.
After a beat, a grin slides onto Ava’s face as well.
Beatrice reaches out a hand, holding it up like an offering. “Come sit with me for a minute?” she asks.
Ava rushes forward before the words are fully out of her mouth. She sits right next to Beatrice, sliding closer until their sides are completely pressed together and she can wrap an arm around her while resting her head on her shoulder.
Beatrice curls her own arm around her middle and holds her back just as tightly. “I love you,” she starts.
Ava whispers it back, so Beatrice tilts her head to press a kiss into her hair.
And then, she tells Ava everything she was thinking.