Work Text:
It was growing harder to fall asleep beside her partner. Natalie had grown accustomed to living with Tae Joon. She liked him well enough. But it was nights like these where she could feel regret filling her chest. She wasn't cruel enough to say it, it wouldn't be fair to poor Tae Joon. But Natalie knew she was doing this out of guilt. She understood the feeling of being so undesirable. She couldn’t bear placing the same feeling upon Tae Joon. But she was unsatisfied. She had been since they had begun dating, and the feeling only became amplified when they began living together. It wasn’t Tae Joon’s fault, but Natalie’s own. She had been lying to herself for too long. And by association, lying to Tae Joon.
She didn’t take joy in lying to her partner. It ate away at her every waking moment she had. Hell, it had seeped into Natalie’s dreams. She too often dreamed of Tae Joon’s face twisting into an expression of pure disgust and loathing as he looked down at her. “I don’t understand. What did I do wrong? Is this some kind of test? You’ve betrayed me. She couldn’t do it. When she woke up sobbing, Tae Joon never awakened. He slept through her tears. Natalie held no ill will toward him. She would much rather he slumbered while she sobbed. There was something so awfully humiliating about crying. Especially over something unattainable. Oftentimes the blonde would curl in on herself or hide out in the bathroom until her tears stopped. She couldn’t even have the one she wanted. For Renee Blasey was dead. It was foolish to cry over her any longer.
To Natalie though, she was still alive. She could see the pale woman standing in her laboratory once more. It always made her skin crawl, to imagine Renee still alive. Rennee always kept her in check, she always grounded Natalie. Tae Joon– for as much as she cared for him– often fed into her delusions. “This is fully attainable, you know,” he would insist. Statistically, Tae Joon was wrong. Natalie greatly appreciated his vote of confidence, but Renee always had been a realist.
“Natalie, how do you know this will work?” She remembered Renee asking one night. The pair were sharing drinks in her laboratory. She had neve permitted Tae Joon the same privilege. She remembered telling him it was just a girl’s thing. She felt foolish for it now, even more so when she realized how badly she missed such events.
“I don’t know it’ll work,” she had responded to Renee. “That’s the joy of experiments! Why? Are you only interested in tests that have a one hundred percent success rate? She remembered giving her a look that Renee returned. It had made Natalie’s whole body feel like it was on fire. As if Renee had doused her in lighter fluid and calmly flicked a match toward her. Natalie couldn’t recall a single time she had felt that way with Tae Joon. She tried to reassure herself that it wasn't a negative thing, but she couldn’t help but feel like she had made some horrible mistake.
This wasn’t to say Tae Joon wasn’t a desirable man. Natalie just had come to realize he wasn’t for her. But if he wasn’t for her, who was? Renee had passed, and all she had was Tae Joon. He had even cost her friendships, though she had never said a word to him about it. It wouldn’t be fair! She found that she was too ashamed to confess her conflicted feelings to Tae Joon now. Perhaps if Renee was still living things would be different. Natalie would have the courage to tell Tae Joon because she would have had the reassurance of Renee in her back pocket.
Natalie feared she was too selfish to be loved, now.
She had lost friends because of Tae Joon. She tried not to think about it. It wasn’t directly his fault. She just missed the presence of people like Mikhail Caustic. Dr. Caustic had been an interesting friend to have. Sure, he wasn’t a great person. He had hardly been a moral example, but Natalie missed having someone to discuss her experiments with. Sure, Dr. Caustic’s experiments never mirrored her own, but Natalie didn’t mind that. She just took joy in having another friend interested in the same things she was. Tae Joon held some similar interests– they both enjoyed electronics– but their interests didn’t necessarily intersect. Natalie wasn’t sure how to explain it, and she no longer felt she had people to explain it to. Renee had been her primary confidant. Ramya was a good second-choice, but she felt that Ramya’s focus was sometimes elsewhere. She still appreciated the woman’s opinions, but Natalie wasn’t sure that it was the same. It hardly felt the same.
This night was no different. Natalie had awakened beside Tae Joon and carefully slipped out of bed. She didn’t bother closing the bedroom door behind her. She navigated their dark apartment with ease, making her way out onto the balcony when she was certain she hadn’t caused her partner to wake up. Guilt wracked her whole body as she sat on the concrete floor of the balcony and stared through the metal bars as the world below her.
She had caused the death of the woman she thought about every night. Natalie tried to tell herself that was the case, anyway, and that it was why Renee occupied all of her thoughts. Not because she had been in love with her, but instead because she had helped design the arena for the Apex Games Renee had lost. Natalie had engrossed herself in working after the death of her father. Everyone knew that. Renee had been dead set on joining the Apex Games, despite Natalie’s protests. She remembered telling Renee she wouldn’t want to participate in the games. They were dangerous! That was where people died. “Death is permanent, Renee,” Natalie recalled telling the older woman. “I’m not sure I could live with myself if you died at my hands.” Even now, Natalie could hear Renee’s response ringing in her ears.
“Natalie, if I go by my own choice you’re not killing me. I want to participate in the games. Don’t be silly. I’ll be back and we can spend every day together.”
It ate away at her. Every night she could hear those words. Every day. Natalie’s response had been the nail in the coffin, she feared. She had already begun dating Tae Joon at the time, but she had the same feelings for Renee tucked away inside of her. “I hardly see how that could work, Renee. I’m planning to move in with Tae Joon soon.”
The forlorn expression that had painted itself across Renee’s pale features had been emblazoned on Natalie’s mind. She couldn’t forget it. It seemed like Renee had been upset about the games at the time. Like she had been seeking out the approval of Natalie. Now, Natalie knew the truth. It had been the look of a lover scorned. If only she had realized that earlier. All of this could have been avoided.
“The arena doesn’t kill people, Natalie… Natalie had been too focused on how Renee saying her name made a shiver run down her spine. She hadn’t even caught the second half of the sentence. If she had listened more closely she could have heard Renee’s thoughts. She wished she had. Didn’t her arena kill people, though? Even if not literally it was the vessel of death. People were trapped in the arena and forced to fight to the death. How could Natalie not blame herself?
Staring at the ground below her, Natalie outstretched a trembling hand and slipped it past the metal bars. She had ruined her only chance at true love. The feelings she had toward Tae Joon weren’t love. Natalie knew she had to face the facts, even if she would never admit it to another living soul.
“Renee, are you there?” Her voice wavered as she spoke to the dark night sky. Stars twinkled above her, only amplifying the smallness that Natalie felt. She felt like a worthless speck in the universe. “You know I'm sorry about everything. Right? I hope you do. I’ve missed you quite a lot. Not a day goes by when I don’t think about you.” Natalie had never reached this point. Talking out her feelings seemed deeply embarrassing. Who wanted to speak to the sky and pray that a dead woman heard them? Natalie, apparently.
“I’d never ask for a sign,” she continued. “I know you wouldn’t give me one anyway. I hate that it took this for me to come to terms with everything.” That wasn’t even half of it. Natalie missed her friend so much. She wouldn’t have called Renee a friend if she was still living. “I don’t deserve a sign from you.” She frowned. Natalie had scratched at the dark paint that coated the metal bars of the balcony. Anything to avoid the emotions devouring her from the inside out. She prayed silently to a god she knew didn’t actually exist, that Tae Joon didn’t wake up suddenly. It would be just her luck for her current partner to overhear her yearning for a woman who was dead.
“I… I’m sorry. For everything,” Natalie said softly. “I know I can’t make it up for you. But I think about you every day, Renee. I miss you. I made some awful mistake.”
It was dark. Natalie was sitting in her laboratory with Renee. They had turned on the Apex Games, watching together. Renee was captivated.
“I can’t believe you helped design that arena,” she had commented.
Natalie felt her face getting warm. “Why? I told you my Papa helped make some of the early arenas. Didn’t I?” She had turned her gaze to look back at Renee. Her pale features were complimented by the light of the tablet projecting the games in front of them.
“You did. You’ve mentioned it a couple dozen times,” Renee teased. “But I suppose I just thought you’d do something else. The games seem too morbid for someone as sweet as you.”
Natalie had noticed how Renee leaned in. She was acutely aware of the way that Renee’s features had warmed slightly. She didn’t seem like she was on high alert anymore, instead cheerful in a way Natalie had never seen before. “Well, you know what they say. Don’t judge a book by its cover. Right?”
Renee chuckled. “I guess so.” There was a pause. “Do you actually enjoy watching the games though? Or is it more of the arena you like to get a look at?”
“I couldn’t tell you,” Natalie murmured. “I like seeing the technology, sure, but the actual games are interesting too.”
“Would you join me in the games?”
“Huh?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“No, Renee, you said something. Tell me. Did you mean it?” Natalie felt worry beginning to gnaw at her. Renee couldn’t possibly be serious about joining the games.
“I was just wondering. I don’t think I’d do the games without you by my side. I couldn’t bear being without you, Natalie. D’you know that?” Renee’s hand lingered on her forearm a bit too long, and Natalie began to put the pieces of the puzzle together.
The memory made her eyes sting and her throat feel tight. “You got me, alright? I- I didn’t realize that’s what you wanted Renee,” she said weakly. Natalie’s hands trembled and she hastily pushed them against her face. The hot sting of tears welling in her eyes had come back. It was like she was back in that moment all over again. She hated the memory now. She should have kissed her. Was there a greater profession of love than planning to either win an incredible amount of fame or die alongside one another trying?
Natalie had turned down her only chance at true love.
She knew Tae Joon loved her, but she couldn’t possibly reciprocate on the level that she had with Renee. She had just realized too late. And now? Renee was gone. Natalie had ruined it all for herself. Hastily, she wiped her tears away. She needed to get back to bed before Tae Joon got away from her. As she looked up at the sky, she saw something. A shooting star.
Against her better judgment she took it as a sign from Renee. That she had been forgiven. But even with the forgiveness from the woman she loved, it didn’t fix the pang Natalie constantly felt in her heart.