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Ever since that moment in the hall after Mother Superion’s office, Ava looks at her with such an open, trusting, and hopeful look, it actually pulls the breath from Beatrice’s lungs.
At least, most of the time…
She doesn’t look at any of the others like that. Like she trusts them. Not even Camila. Her eyes are sharp and cold, wary at the edges, even when she starts growing closer to them.
She smiles, but it’s not open or hopeful.
Beatrice understands. She’d listened to Ava when the others disregarded her. She read between the lines when she studied the reports of Ava’s orphanage. She heard the darkness haunting what Ava wasn’t saying. She understands why Ava might have a hard time with Nuns, especially this group of Nuns asking her to do such horrible and dangerous things.
Yet, most of the time when she looks at Beatrice her eyes are like warm pits of chocolate, pulling Beatrice ever deeper and deeper, even despite her being a Nun.
And despite everything she’s been through, Ava’s a ray of sunshine in the dark. Her smiles, her laughs, her jokes, everything that she does brings at least a little spark of joy into every conversation, every room. Beatrice watches her, awed by her strength and grace, despite the horrors she came from, and the traumatic reality she’s now faced with everyday.
It’s like she chooses to be innocent and wonder-filled, despite knowing how harsh the world around her is, and most importantly she chooses to let Beatrice see her that way.
At least, most of the time.
And Beatrice can’t help but watch, staring desperately when she knows she should be keeping her eyes averted instead. She can’t stop staring at how good she looks, in every sense of the word her brain can imagine.
It keeps her awake for long hours, mind swirling and dark with her guilt as she prays over and over again for forgiveness.
She knows it’ll never come, so she throws herself into protecting Ava and keeping her safe in every way she can.
All the while Ava looks at her with an open smile and trusting eyes.
Most of the time.
Until they read the diary, at least.
Beatrice feels it as soon as the air shifts in the room around them, once Ava realizes what Beatrice means, and she knows there’s no going back. Ava understands now. She sees Beatrice for the danger, the monster, that she is, and there’s no going back.
Her careful disguise slipped, showing Ava the parts of her she never should have seen, and that was it.
The air shifts and hangs heavy with fear as soon as Beatrice raises her voice, as soon as Ava starts to understand, and it never releases.
Ava tells her she’s beautiful anyway and Beatrice tentatively makes eye contact again, allowing some small bit of hope, but what she’s met with is worse than Beatrice had expected.
The tension in the air grows tighter.
There’s something hidden in Ava’s eyes when she looks at her now. Something hesitant. Something afraid.
It stabs deep and hard in Beatrice’s chest. She vows right then and there to do whatever it takes to make herself someone Ava feels safe enough to be open and trusting with again.
She throws herself into their training even harder, and while there’s moments that Ava looks at her with a flash of what was there before, it almost always fades as Ava pulls away.
Beatrice tries making puns and taking other steps to show Ava that, while she’s not harmless, she’d only harm to protect Ava, but it’s never clear that Ava gets the message.
Still, Beatrice tries.
She tries.
All the while, Ava continues to open up a bit, and then slams those shutters down in front of her eyes again harder than before, protecting herself from whatever it is she sees when she looks at Beatrice now.
It only becomes more and more apparent after the Vatican.
When they escape from the fight, everything is a blur. Mother Superion hands Beatrice a small duffel bag and a set of car keys, instructing her to take Ava and drive as far away as possible.
Camila tells her there’s a phone in the bag and she’ll send them directions and instructions in exactly 12 hours.
Then, they’re off. Beatrice folds a nearly catatonic Ava into the back seat with their bag, clambers into the driver’s seat, picks a direction, and drives.
It’s tense for the first several hours as the streets are packed and chaotic, but Beatrice keeps herself focused and calm as she methodically works her way out of the city and far beyond.
Ava remains curled in a ball in the back, injured but not seriously. Freshly traumatized from more than Beatrice knows just yet, and aches to fix all the same. Beatrice sneaks glances at her in the rearview mirror, heart cracking further with every look.
She drives until they absolutely have to refuel, then she finds the emptiest and most out-of-the-way gas station she can. She fills up first with her head on a swivel, then carefully pulls the car around the back corner of the lot where the building mostly blocks them from the view of the road while still leaving all of the entrances and exits to both the lot and building open to Beatrice’s vigilance.
She studies the area for an extra minute, assessing that they really are alone, before she steps out of the car and moves around to the back passenger door furthest away from the road so she can maintain her vantage points while caring for Ava.
Ava barely twitches as she opens the door, remaining curled in her spot in the middle of the seats. Beatrice eyes her warily for a beat before reaching for their bag first instead.
She’s relieved to see bottles of water, protein bars, a small first aid kit, and the promised phone on top of some clean clothes and towels for each of them.
She cracks open one of the bottles and takes a quick swig before wetting a section of towel with some of it and moving her attention back to Ava.
She remains unchanged.
Beatrice pushes out a deep sigh and reaches out with her free hand, keeping her palm open and gentle as she goes.
“Ava,” she calls. “Can you come here, please?”
Ava twitches a few times, the words clearly registering to some extent, but she doesn’t move further.
Beatrice pushes out another sigh and leans forward, carefully sliding her hand out to rest on Ava’s closest elbow.
Ava flinches hard at the contact and her glassy eyes snap to Beatrice, wide and lost and afraid.
Beatrice twitches the corners of her lips up and slides her hand back. “Could you come here, please?” she repeats.
Ava blinks, seemingly uncomprehendingly, but her body moves anyway. Robotically, she slides closer until her butt is resting just on the edge of her seat and her legs dangle out of the open door, just inches in front of Beatrice’s chest.
Beatrice nods at her, then reaches her hand back out to grasp Ava’s shoulder carefully. Ava flinches again, but doesn’t otherwise react, eyes now staring blankly out over Beatrice’s shoulder, so Beatrice keeps going. With gentle, prodding pressure she inspects Ava carefully, checking for any injuries not healing on their own. There’s a few gashes along her arms and torso that were likely caused by divinium because they keep bleeding sluggishly with no sign of healing at the edges. Overall, though, they’re minor and the rest of the injuries she’d had before are healed or healing nicely. A little bit of pressure unlocks in Beatrice’s chest and she keeps going. Methodically, she scrubs Ava’s skin clean and dresses her open wounds with the few supplies they have.
Almost as an afterthought, she scrubs off her own visible skin with a fresh part of the towel, ignoring the stinging pain that lights up across more than half of it, before pulling their fresh clothes from the bag.
She notes passively that there’s another small bag underneath those, full of money she assumes based on the shape, and then turns her attention back to Ava. The other woman sits limply where she left her, arms dangling at her sides and eyes still completely lost in the distance. Beatrice swallows, anger and fear building up in equal parts behind her ribs, as she holds up one of the sets of clothes in front of her. “Ava, we need to get changed.”
Ava blinks again and doesn’t move.
Beatrice waits, holding her breath for long moments as the panic rises, and then finally resigns herself to her next course of action. She sets the clothes down on the car’s floor and moves her hands back up to Ava’s top with trembling fingers. One by one, she starts unfastening the clips, buckles, and zippers that make up Ava’s battle outfit. She keeps her eyes averted as often as she can, constantly scanning the area around them for any trespassers who might try to hurt them (or see Ava like this). Replacing her shirt goes smoothly enough, with Ava remaining zoned out and limp as Beatrice guides her through the movements.
It’s only when Beatrice’s fingers drop down to the buckle at the front of Ava’s pants that things take a shift. The slight tinkle of plastic and metal unclicking seems to ricochet through Ava’s mind, finally snapping her out of her trance. Her eyes cut to Beatrice on a sharp gasp, first darting down to her hands at her waist, then cutting up to her face.
When their eyes meet, there’s so much fear in Ava’s, dark and bubbly right at the surface, that Beatrice can’t breathe. Every atom in Beatrice’s body freezes in place under Ava’s wide-eyed gaze as the other woman tunes back in and catches up to the situation.
Ava’s eyes shoot back down again, where Beatrice’s hands are still frozen at the open buckle to her pants, and she gasps again. “What’s going on?” Ava asks.
Beatrice swallows and every twitch of the muscles involved feels like sandpaper on raw nerves. “We need to change into new clothes. Clean. Less conspicuous.”
It takes an eternity for the words to filter through Ava’s mind and Beatrice can do nothing but watch as that bubbling fear continues to stare back at her. Eventually though, while the fear doesn’t lessen, Ava does nod once and drop her own hands down to her hips. “Right, right,” she mutters, finishing with the clasps at the front and pulling the fabric down over her hips.
Beatrice’s hands fly away at the movement, rushing to pull the clean pants out of the pile to hold out in offering while she averts her gaze again.
Ava takes the pants from her and finishes changing in just a few quick movements. Once she’s done, Beatrice keeps her eyes locked on the road in the distance as she stands and backs away from Ava, hoping to make her feel a little less trapped and violated than before. There’s a brief, deadly pause of silence as Beatrice’s mind continues to whir desperately, before it lands on the rest of the items she’d pulled from the bag.
She’s careful to keep her movements slow and loose as she reaches back down for the items she’d left on the ground, and pivots to hold an opened bottle of water and a few protein bars out to Ava, still keeping her gaze averted to avoid eye contact. “Here, please eat and drink,” she says, relieved when Ava takes them from her without much hesitation.
Her eyes cut across the road in the distance again, barely tracking Ava out of her periphery as the other woman cracks the water bottle and takes a sip while clearly staring at Beatrice.
“What-” Ava starts, and the panic rises so high in Beatrice’s chest that she doesn’t let her finish.
“We need to get moving. Give me a moment to change too and we’ll go.” Again, she doesn’t look directly at Ava as she bends back down to grab her own clothes and steps around to the other side of the open door where she can hide herself at least a little bit without losing her vantage.
She’s fast and efficient as she changes, ignoring the pain that lights across her body once again. Once done, she bundles up her own discarded battle habit along with Ava’s and drops down to a knee in front of the open door again. She pulls the last item out of the bag and cracks it open, relieved when it is indeed a large stack of cash, and tucks it into one of her back pockets. She shoves their old clothes, empty first aid kit, and the soiled towels into the bag and stands back up so she can move around to the back of the car and stash the bag there.
When she returns to Ava, she tracks that she’s now nibbling on the end of one of the protein bars while she watches Beatrice intently.
Beatrice doesn’t look close enough to read her eyes or her face. She bends down one more time to retrieve her own half-empty bottle of water, the remaining protein bar, and the phone, before turning her attention back to just over Ava’s shoulder.
“Please sit back, Ava, it’s time to leave.”
Ava doesn’t respond and, most concerningly, she doesn’t move right away. She just sits there, chewing on her bar as she stares at Beatrice.
Beatrice waits to the count of ten, heart pounding in her chest louder and louder, until she can’t wait any longer. She finally glances back down to Ava’s face, holding her breath at what might be there to greet her.
It’s closed off. Completely closed off. Eyes dark and face almost blank as she stares at her with just a slight twist to the lips that makes Beatrice think of barely contained anger.
Beatrice glances away again, swallowing roughly. “Please, Ava, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. We need to go. I swear to keep you safe.”
There’s a long pause and then Ava rocks forward a bit and finally speaks. “Where are you taking me?”
Beatrice glances down at the phone in her hand. It’s still powered down, but she doesn’t actually need it to tell the time. She knows how long it’s been since they fled. “I don’t know yet. Camila will send us instructions in a few more hours. For now we need to keep moving. We need to get further away. We can’t stay still.”
Ava nods and takes another long drink from her bottle, finishing it off, before she finally stands from the car and steps out. “I’ll ride shotgun this time,” she says. She steps around Beatrice, neatly avoiding touching her, before opening the front passenger door and sliding in. The loud slam of her door closing has Beatrice biting the inside of her lip. She sucks in one more deep breath before closing the back door and crossing around to climb back into the driver’s seat.
They’re silent as she pulls back onto the road and continues their drive.
Beatrice doesn’t risk looking back at Ava for a long time, but she feels Ava’s eyes on her repeatedly, burning her.
The tension holds when they eventually do make it to Switzerland. Like before, sometimes Ava will open back up to Beatrice for a little while, when Beatrice makes a particularly bad pun or does something Ava finds silly, but then something will cross over Ava’s eyes again and she’ll pull away.
The shutters snap back down.
They build their hideaway life together all the same.
The apartment Camila got them is small, but comfortable. Beatrice sleeps on the couch while Ava takes the bed. The stove in the kitchen works well, despite being several decades old. They even have a small washer and dryer set stashed in the corner of the bathroom.
The jobs they pick up at the bar down the street are simple but rewarding. Beatrice is thankful for them more and more each day when she sees Ava open up and shine from her regular exposure to the people that pass through, sharing stories and information Ava never dreamed of getting in the past. She even catches Ava looking at Hans and a few of their regulars with that old open and achingly trusting look that she’d seen directed at her all that time ago. While it does hurt to see, she’s also immensely grateful for it. Grateful Ava has someone else she can trust to walk with her in life without feeling threatened. She has such a big heart, so open and ready to love and be loved in return, she deserves to have people in her life that can fill it.
She’s everything someone could want.
She’s everything Beatrice could want.
And Beatrice is well aware that’s the problem.
All the while, Beatrice tries to earn her trust again.
She keeps her guard up at all times.
She stays on her absolute best behavior.
She remains at Ava’s side, protective and reliable without ever coming close enough to touch unless it was absolutely unavoidable.
And Ava watches her. In little moments and big, she feels Ava’s eyes on her as well, always watching.
Ava smiles, too. She jokes just like before. She teases and enjoys life, living in a way Beatrice never could.
But, all the while, she watches Beatrice too.
And Beatrice remains at her side, as faithful as she is Faithful.
She tries to let it be enough.
And at night, long after dark when she hears Ava wake sobbing from nightmares she refuses to talk about, Beatrice bites her pillow and screams and screams internally to keep herself from going over to hold her.
Her body aches to hold her close. To absorb every piece of anger and pain that Ava holds inside. To comfort her and cover her.
But she knows that would be the worst possible thing she could do. She knows that crossing that boundary of the room, dropping her mask, and letting Ava see her for what she is again would be the end.
All she wants is to hold her, protect her, stay by her side, and love her with all that her heart will give.
But that’s not what Ava would see.
No.
She’d see that monster again.
She’d be even more afraid.
And she’d never feel safe around Beatrice again.
Beatrice understands. Really, how could she not. So, she remains on her best behavior.
She lets that be enough.
But then, a few weeks into their time in Switzerland, something shifts again.
It starts off small.
Beatrice is returning from a rare shift at the bar without Ava, mind full of thoughts about what she should make for dinner and what training exercises they’ll do the next morning, so she doesn’t notice something is off immediately when she steps inside.
“Ava, I’m back,” she calls softly as she steps inside. It was another habit she’d picked up in their time together, constantly announcing when she was in the apartment or often the same room as Ava so as not to surprise her. When she doesn’t hear a reply right away, she glances up to see the door to the bedroom is closed, so she assumes Ava is taking a nap and adjusts her movements to be quieter. She removes her coat and moves directly to the fridge, double checking the ingredients she needs are still there (Ava’s been known to eat strange combinations of things when hungry) before turning to start pulling various pots and plates out of their cupboards.
It’s not until she’s setting the last pot on their little kitchen table, which doubles as a prep station given their limited counterspace, that she looks up again and startles back in surprise. The door to the bedroom had opened silently while she wasn’t looking and Ava now leans against the frame, watching Beatrice intently from the dark shadows of the room behind her.
Beatrice flashes a smile at her, heart pounding in her chest from both the shock and the strange vibe coming from Ava. “Hey, I’m back. Did you take a nap?” Beatrice asks, hoping to cut the tension.
Ava doesn’t respond right away and Beatrice can’t see enough of her face in the shadows to read what she might be thinking.
She’s not entirely sure she wants to anyway.
After another long beat, Ava finally steps forward into the light, and Beatrice’s fears are confirmed when Ava’s eyes are hesitant and closed, even with the wide smile on Ava’s face. “I did. Did you have a good shift?” Ava asks, voice light.
Beatrice swallows and drops her own eyes back down to the table. “Yes, it was quiet. I got a lot of paperwork done,” she says. She turns back around to the fridge and finally starts pulling out the ingredients to start prep.
She hears Ava’s steps bring her across the room behind her and she takes a discreet breath to center herself before turning back around, focusing her attention on the table and only tracking Ava through the corners of her vision.
Ava now stands just on the other side of the table, still watching Beatrice. “I’m glad,” she says.
Beatrice nods as she places the food on the table. It’s only when her hands are empty that one of Ava’s reaches forward to rest on the top of her forearm.
Beatrice freezes on the spot, eyes locked down on that one point of contact and breath caught painfully in her throat.
“Bea?” Ava asks, voice gentle.
Beatrice swallows and forces herself to look up and meet Ava’s eyes straight-on. They’re open. Not trusting, not like before, but at least open and searching as they look back at Beatrice.
Ava swallows too and it takes a conscious effort for Beatrice not to stare at her full lips or follow the motion of Ava’s throat muscles constricting all the way down.
“Yes, Ava?” Beatrice manages, breathing shallow.
Ava holds her gaze a while longer, eyes still searching for something Beatrice doesn’t understand, before she eventually sighs and drops her hand away from her arm. “I’m glad you’re back,” Ava says, voice turning even softer and more hesitant.
Something floods in Beatrice’s chest, warm and almost painfully hopeful, and she stands a little taller as she flashes Ava another quick smile. “Me too,” she says, rushing to hold onto this small moment.
Ava nods at her and sits down at the table, clearly letting the moment drop, so Beatrice returns to her work as well and pushes aside the disappointment in her chest.
Though, her mind swirls and swirls with even more thoughts after that, and very few have anything to do with dinner or training.
Little moments like that start to be more of a regular occurrence. Ava will talk to her or touch her with a gentle urgency that was never there before, and never leads to anything more.
Until, one day, it comes to a head. It’s a bar fight, of all things, that causes it. They’re both on a late Saturday night shift, working in tandem with Hans to cater to a large group of customers out celebrating the win of some popular sports team. It’d been a long day and the drunken energy of the crowd only furthers Beatrice’s exhaustion and wariness as she carries an empty cup rack out to the counter so they can start collecting the cups from the last round for the dishwasher as their patrons finish up.
Ava is standing at the end of the counter, smiling as she talks with a group of four young, attractive-enough men. Beatrice scans them all, checking for threats. She can only flex her jaw and look away when she finds nothing more threatening than the way each man is staring intently at a different part of Ava and clearly drooling over her. As much as she wants it to be, she knows that’s not a threat Ava would accept her intervening for, so she turns her attention back to the cup rack on the counter and starts filling it with the dirty glasses nearby. It’s a minute or two later that she hears Ava raise her voice, and instantly tunes back into her conversation more carefully.
“-told you I’m not going anywhere with any of you tonight,” Ava finishes saying, voice now loud and hard at the edges.
Beatrice turns to look in time to see two of the young men scowling at her, while the third and fourth glare at a fifth, slightly older, man that had joined the group. This man is leaning over the bar and dangerously approaching Ava’s personal space while he smiles at her with thin, sleazy lips. Beatrice’s body runs cold and she’s moving toward the group before her mind has time to fully process.
Still, it’s not quite fast enough. One of the younger men that had been glaring at the new guy snarls at him. “Way to go. We were making progress and you just ruined it for all of us.”
The older man doesn’t take his eyes off Ava, who’s now leaning back with a stiff posture, as he replies. “You never had a chance and you know it. She wants someone who knows how to handle a little girl like her.”
The first punch flies before Beatrice expects it, swinging from somewhere within the group of young men and catching the older guy in the side of the head with more force than she would have expected. It sends him sideways, finally breaking his stare at Ava, and crashes him into a very drunk looking man next to him. That man doesn’t even hesitate to join the fray and that entire side of the bar erupts into a fight before Beatrice even manages to finish crossing the small space behind the counter to get to Ava. When she does though, she puts herself in front of Ava to protect her from the onslaught, and then steps forward to help Hans sort it out. It doesn’t take long, really, to settle everyone down and kick them out. They were largely drunk and sloppy, but with half of Beatrice’s attention fixed on keeping Ava safe and behind her at all times, Beatrice still takes more than a few good hits to the face and ribs, and she’s achy in an annoying way when the bar is finally empty and Hans sends them on their way.
Ava’s hands flutter around her sides the whole way home as she repeatedly both apologizes and questions if Beatrice is ok.
Beatrice assures her she is over and over again, but she can’t seem to get herself to face Ava directly to see whatever look might be in her eyes now that she’s reminded of another way Beatrice can cause harm, and that refusal to look at her only seems to spur on Ava’s apologies.
When they get inside, Beatrice eases herself down into one of the kitchen chairs, carefully biting back a groan to avoid upsetting Ava further.
“What can I do?” Ava asks, voice clearly still worried and far closer than Beatrice would like.
Beatrice flinches and closes her eyes. But, when she takes an extra moment to force herself to breathe out around the flare in her ribs before responding, Ava takes the opportunity to continue.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I know this is my fault and you don’t want me near you, especially now, but please, please let me help.”
And just like that, everything stops for Beatrice. The pain in her ribs, her racing thoughts, even her pounding heartbeat fades out and it’s all she can do to turn to Ava with a furrowed brow and gasp a quiet, “What?!”
Ava’s face is pinched in a way that looks like she’s on the verge of tears and her hands are folded in front of herself, twisting and curling against each other so hard it looks painful. “I’m so sorry. I can be better tomorrow. Please let me help now.”
Beatrice swallows and tracks around her face, noting the sincerity and pure, open, desperation showing in her eyes. “You-you have nothing to be sorry about. You’ve done nothing wrong. I am the one who is sorry. I’m sorry for not protecting you better, and I’m sorry you had to see that side of me again. I assure you, you are safe now and you don’t have to do anything. I am fine. Why don’t you go get ready for bed? Early training tomorrow.”
Ava’s brow pinches further and she leans closer, hands curling even tighter in front of herself. “What are you talking about? What side of you? You’re always protecting me like this. You always keep me safe. You do everything for me. You’re…everything. Please let me help.”
As Ava trails off somewhat breathlessly, Beatrice blinks and starts to wonder if she needs to add a concussion to her list of injuries to track. She frowns, still staring deep into Ava’s surprisingly open and desperate eyes, and finds herself responding more bluntly than she would normally. “The…the side of me that scares you? Or at least, one of those sides. I assure you, while you might have to see this side occasionally, you will never see the other again. You have my word,” Beatrice vows, voice solemn.
The words finally seem to break Ava away from whatever had been holding her back. She collapses down onto her knees in front of Beatrice and darts her hands out to clasp onto Beatrice’s arm, thumbs stoking delicately along Beatrice’s exposed skin. “Scares me? What are you talking about, I’d never be afraid of you?” Ava asks, voice growing even more worried as her eyes search around Beatrice’s face.
Beatrice blinks again, mind growing hazy from the overwhelm of what Ava’s words might mean and the head injury in equal measure. “I-I don’t. I don’t understand, aren’t you scared of me?” Beatrice asks, stumbling over her words as she abruptly realizes she’s breathing far too harshly for her sore torso.
One of Ava’s hands slides up to cup the side of her face and she guides Beatrice into making eye contact before shaking her head furiously. “Never, Bea, never. But right now I am really worried about how you’re acting and I think we need to get you some ice and into bed, ok? I think you need some rest, and we can talk about this more when you’re clear headed. Ok?”
Beatrice blinks again and her eyes stay closed, body far too overwhelmed by all of the points of contact between her and Ava to even think about opening her eyes again. The warm, soft caress of Ava’s palm on her cheek is the best thing she’s ever felt, and it lights through her body in a way she’d never dared hope to experience before. She thinks she slurs a rough agreement because a moment later and Ava is gently urging her up from the chair and into the bedroom. She deposits Beatrice on the edge of the bed and, before Beatrice’s tired mind has the chance to object, Ava’s helping her change into her nightclothes, pressing cold ice into her chest and head, and helping her lean back into the soft pillows below.
The last thing Beatrice is conscious of before she drifts off is how wonderfully Ava’s pillow smells, just like her, and then there’s nothing for a long time.
When she does eventually surface from the void and blinks awake again, she’s startled to find the room is bathed in the bright sunlight of midafternoon. Her mind is much sharper than it was the night before, but hazy on the memories of exactly what happened, so the shock of the light and the confusion of the situation has her sitting up rapidly. “Ava!” she gasps as she moves. Ignoring the twinge in her torso from the harsh movement after so long of laying still, her eyes dart around the room to assess the situation. They fall on Ava almost immediately.
Ava is staring at her from where she sits cross-legged on the end of the bed opposite from Beatrice.
The sight has Beatrice startling again, only just now realizing that she is laying in the bed . “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. I-I-” Beatrice starts to ramble, fighting with her heavy limbs and the blankets covering her as she tries to scramble out of the bed and away from Ava, painfully aware of how much of an overstep she’s just somehow made.
“Wait,” Ava says. A warm hand reaches out to fold over her forearm again, stilling her frantic movements against the covers, and Beatrice’s eyes shoot back to Ava. “Why are you apologizing?”
Beatrice breathes shallowly for a second or two, mind and body still trying to catch up, before replying. “I’m in your bed,” she says.
Ava merely nods back, and the time between actually speaking the words aloud and seeing Ava’s reaction gives Beatrice’s brain enough time to spiral forward. Her mouth starts moving without her permission. “I’m so sorry. I swear I never meant to overstep like this. You can trust me. You really can. I don’t- I don’t know what happened but it’ll never happen again.”
Ava’s fingers flex into her skin, both reassuring and holding her in place at the same time. “Beatrice, stop. I put you in the bed. I wanted you here. You were hurt.”
Beatrice stares at her for a long beat, mouth hanging open. “You…what?” she asks, confusion returning full force.
Ava squeezes her arm again and smiles at her with a sad melancholy that Beatrice hates on sight. “You were hurt in a fight at the bar so I had you sleep here so I could help. You’ve been out for a while. You should drink some water. If I leave to get some, do you promise not to try and get up or anything?”
All Beatrice can do is nod back in confused agreement. Ava stares at her a little longer, as if assessing her sincerity, before nodding back, sliding from the bed and disappearing into the kitchen.
She’s only gone a minute at most, Beatrice knows, but her arm burns with the absence of Ava’s heat the entire time and it nearly drives her mad. It’s just about all she can do to keep herself in the bed as she promised, instead of following Ava into the other room and begging for forgiveness again. Luckily, Ava pads back into the room with two large glasses of water before Beatrice loses that internal battle.
Ava hands her one of the cups, waiting to make sure Beatrice is able to hold the glass in her slightly shaky hand, before she moves to sit back in her spot at the end of the bed.
They sip their waters quietly for a few minutes, and Beatrice is grateful for the time to gather her thoughts. Memories from the night before flood back to her in waves, and by the time her glass is mostly empty she’s both far more ashamed and confused than before. She’d dropped her guard, exposed herself to Ava again in more ways than one, but she doesn’t know what that means. Ava had seemed so confused the night before, adamant that she would never be afraid of Beatrice, yet Beatrice knows what she’s been seeing for the last several months.
It doesn’t make sense, and she doesn’t know where to go from here.
She’s not sure she wants to know.
Still, Ava finishes her water not long after her and urges them both forward anyway.
“Can I take that glass?” Ava asks, finally breaking the silence.
Beatrice nods and hands it back without comment, and Ava tilts over the edge of the bed to set both empty glasses on the floor. The movement reveals a small sliver of the skin at her side and Beatrice’s eyes catch and linger there for longer than she’s proud of. At least she manages to pry them away before Ava catches her.
When Ava returns to her upright position, she doesn’t waste any time in continuing. “We need to talk about last night.”
“I’m sorry.” The words fall from Beatrice’s lips without thought, the prayer she’s been silently saying to Ava every day and night since that one fateful day taking over automatically. She sees movement out of the corner of her eye so she risks looking back at Ava’s face. The pure devastation that meets her there catches her more off-guard than the pity or anger she’d been expecting.
“You said that last night, too. You also said you thought I was scared of you. Was that true?” Ava asks, voice cracking at the edges.
Beatrice swallows, suddenly wishing she had more water for her dry throat. “Yes,” she breathes.
“You really think I’m scared of you?” Ava challenges again, a harder edge creeping into her tone.
“Are you not?” Beatrice asks, voice coming out as genuinely confused as she feels.
“Of course not! How could I be? You do everything for me! You are my everything!” Ava snaps back, voice both raising and muddling with the mix of emotions behind the words.
Beatrice’s brain stutters, but this time she doesn’t have the fresh injuries to distract her and she’s forced to read the truth from Ava and her words. She breathes out again, confusion now rushing in full force. “But, how could that be?” she asks.
Ava scoots closer to her on the bed and one hand rushes out to close Beatrice’s arm in a delicate grip again. “I really don’t see how it couldn’t be. Let's go back. What makes you think I’m afraid of you?”
“I felt it. You changed toward me after that day with the diary. I felt it. I know what that means. I’ve seen it before. I understand. I do. I’ve been trying so hard to earn your trust back, but I always understood. I swear, you’ll never see that side of me again,” Beatrice replies.
“That day…with the diary?” Ava asks, voice rising at the end.
“Yes, I felt it. You were afraid of me then and you’ve been different ever since.”
“No, Bea, no,” Ava mutters. Her hand squeezes Beatrice’s arm and she slides a little closer again. “I wasn’t scared of you then and I’ve never been since. I was scared that day, yes, but not of you. I was scared I’d hurt or angered you at first. Then, when you explained more, I was scared of the things you’d been forced to experience in the past. But, more than anything, I hated what had been done to you and I wanted nothing more than for you to see yourself how I do. But…you started to pull away more after that and…acted stiffer or something, so I thought, well, I thought maybe you’d shared more than you meant to with someone you weren’t expecting to be stuck with this long, and were trying to politely regain your professional boundaries…or something.”
Beatrice stares at her for a long beat, mouth hanging ajar.
“Say something, anything, please,” Ava begs when Beatrice lets too much time go by without a reply.
Beatrice closes her mouth again with a sharp click and rushes to gather her thoughts into any kind of logical line. “You-you really meant what you said that day?”
Ava nods rapidly, a small, urgent smile forming on her face. “Yes, of course. You are beautiful. You are my everything, actually.”
Beatrice stares at her. “And you’ve been pulling back because I started acting stiffer and you thought it was what I wanted?”
“Yes,” Ava rushes to confirm.
A peal of laughter pulls itself up from Beatrice’s chest almost painfully, rocking her body in rough spasms as it rolls through her.
Ava laughs once or twice too, hesitantly, before moving her other hand forward to rest on Beatrice’s arm as well and squeezing to get her attention.
It takes Beatrice a few seconds to get control over the nearly hysterical laughter, but eventually she manages and returns her attention to Ava’s still drawn and pinched face. “You really thought I was afraid of you?” Ava asks.
Beatrice sobers and all of the absurd joy that had flooded through her a moment before dies down. “Of course, why wouldn’t you be?”
Ava shakes her head at her, face growing achingly sad again. “I really have no idea why I would be,” she says.
Beatrice frowns back. “But…you know what I am?”
Ava nods. “You’re a badass warrior. You’re a woman that had a rough and unfair start, just like me and many others. You’re kind, loyal, dedicated, and smart. You’re very funny when you want to be, and even hilarious when you’re not trying to be. And you have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen, despite everything you’ve seen.”
Beatrice’s mouth runs completely dry again and there’s another painfully long pause in the conversation as she stares back at Ava, almost entirely unable to process her words.
“You can’t mean that,” she says eventually, words barely more than a breath.
Ava slides ever closer on the bed, hands moving up to cup both sides of Beatrice’s face. “I mean every word. Why on earth would I ever be scared of you?”
“Because you know what I am?” Beatrice says again, sure the answer was obvious by now.
“So? That part of you that you shared has nothing to do with the rest of it. If anything, it only makes you stronger because I know how much you suffered for it in the past, and you’re still this kind and loyal and gentle. I know you, Bea. I know you’d never do anything I didn’t want, just like you make sure no one else ever does anything to me that I didn’t want. You protect me.”
Beatrice blinks at her. The weight and warmth of her hands pressing into the skin of her face grounds her in a way she’s never felt before, and before she knows it her brain actually starts to believe some of what Ava is saying. “Really?” she asks again, needing the reassurance.
“Really, I promise,” Ava says. “I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with you.”
“Oh,” Beatrice breathes, the words settling deep and hard in her chest. She drops her eyes down and stares and the mere inches of bed now between them. “Oh,” she says again.
Ava flexes her fingers on her cheeks, moving to stroke her thumbs on the underside of Beatrice’s jaw in a soothing motion. “And, for the record…and you can totally tell me to shut up and never talk about this again if you want and I’ll fully respect it and that will be that. But…if you ever did want to do something about that with me…it wouldn’t scare me.”
Beatrice follows the words, but she doesn’t understand them. “What…what are you saying?” she asks, voice hesitant.
Ava breathes out slowly and she’s so close now that Beatrice can actually feel the hot air rushing across her skin, sending a shiver down her spine. “You’re my everything, Bea. I feel completely safe with you. I understand you are a Nun and this probably isn’t something you’ll ever think about or want, especially not with me, but if you did…if you ever thought about me in that way at all…it wouldn’t scare me. I’d be…receptive,” Ava says, ending the words on a careful whisper. After a beat of silence, Ava drops her hands down from Beatrice’s face. Her shoulders start to curl in and she ducks her face a bit, hiding her expression behind her hair. “But, again, I get that you’re a Nun and it doesn’t even matter. I just mean, that, like, it wouldn’t scare me, ok? You never could.”
And with that, clarity runs through Beatrice like a bolt of lightning. Suddenly, everything Ava is and isn’t saying connects properly with everything Beatrice has seen over the last few months, and just like that she thinks she understands.
Her hands start to tremble visibly as the knowledge runs through her.
Ava clocks the movement a moment later and her head snaps back up, wide, wet eyes locking on Beatrice’s face. “No, please don’t be upset. I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make this better. Please, I just mean you don’t need to be wary around me anymore.”
Beatrice shakes her head and raises one of her trembling hands up to make hesitant contact with the side of Ava’s face. Something melts in Ava at the contact and, although she still looks twitchy and nervous, she turns her face to nuzzle into the soft palm being offered her.
Beatrice’s chest caves in at the motion. “Ava,” she gasps.
Ava’s eyes flutter, meeting hers for a moment and expressing nothing but trust and hope and care, before sliding closed as she continues to lean into her touch.
Beatrice clears her throat and adds just a little bit more pressure into her hand. “Ava,” she says again, voice coming out clearer.
Ava’s eyes open, holding with Beatrice’s this time. “You’re all I could ever want,” she breathes, barely daring to voice the words aloud.
It takes a second or two for the words to register, but when they do a slow smile slides across Ava’s face. One of her hands moves up to clasp with Beatrice’s on her cheek, gripping it while she continues to lean into it.
Beatrice smiles back, heart racing in her chest.
“Do you want to lay back down and try to take a nap with me? I think we could both use some more quiet rest,” Ava asks, voice soft.
Beatrice nods once, and then they move together with a kind of ease she never expected to experience with anyone. Before she knows it, they’re lying together side by side, arms wrapped around each other and Ava’s head resting ever-so-slightly on her shoulder.
They lay like that for a long, long time.
Although Beatrice never actually falls back asleep, her mind wanders and wonders at what this might mean for them.
In the end, although she might not know exactly what it means for now, one thing she does know is that she’ll get to walk with Ava on this journey. Wherever it takes them, however far they must go, she knows now that she’ll be allowed at her side.
And that’s what matters.