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It was like living with a stranger.
The stranger had his face, his voice, his eyes…but it wasn’t him. His face would never be that serious. His voice would never say those words. His eyes would never hold that much hate.
And it was tearing her apart from the inside out.
After all those years, Nya had finally found him: the man she had promised her life to, her other half… But he was just as lost as he had been before.
She didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t the man she loved anymore. He rebuffed every attempt she made to try and get his memories back; to remind him of who he was. It was like he didn’t even want to try to be himself again.
She knew he’d shattered his goodness, the very essence of who he was, but she didn’t want to believe it. The red steadily creeping into his deep blue irises told her otherwise.
Still…she wouldn’t stop trying. He’d been lied to, hurt, and beaten down all while dealing with this sickness in his head. He’d been taken advantage of at his lowest point, and used for power. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what he was going through… She had gone all those years thinking that somehow he would optimistically get through the Merge. That he was somewhere making friends and cracking jokes all while thinking of her. She’d been wrong to assume that he would be okay in the apocalypse, and now she was paying the price.
It started simple. It always did. But Nya was strung out on her last nerve and Rogue was tap dancing on it, almost goading her into another shouting match. Such arguments were growing more and more frequent now… Her and Jay had always argued, what couple didn’t, but Rogue was mean about it in a way that Jay had never been. Jay had always respected her, even if they had different perspectives. She was learning very quickly that Rogue was a completely different animal.
But she’d never backed down from a fight before. She grew up with Kai and his temper. She could handle a few barbs back and forth that hit places that stung. If she locked herself in her room afterwards and sobbed into her pillows at hearing those hurtful things in the one voice she never expected to hear them from…well that was her own business, wasn’t it?
“You need a bath.” She said bluntly one day, entering the living room. She had waited for the monastery to be empty in preparation for the huge fight they were probably going to have. She’d been holding onto it for a while. Spending who knows how long in the wilderness, bouncing from inn to inn and campsite to campsite while being a bounty hunter had done absolutely no favors for Jay’s already semi-terrible self care. (Seriously, if he was making decent money, he could afford to keep himself clean.) If she had to spend time around him, he was going to at least smell decent and shave. Whoever said that you were supposed to think your soulmate’s body odor smelled good was an idiot. She wouldn’t tell him to cut that stupid ponytail, but he needed to start actually taking some pride in himself again.
She wondered, vaguely, if he had gotten this bad when she was the sea…the guys told her he’d grown a beard, but this felt different. This felt angry rather than sad, even if the effect was the same.
“Tch,” he clicked his tongue, not bothering to look up from his videogame, voice dismissive. “And what gives you the authority to tell me what I can and can’t do again? Oh yeah, nothing. I’m not a ninja. I’m just crashing here until I feel like leaving again. Deal with it or fuck off.” He leveled her with a challenging look.
She huffed through her nose and crossed her arms in front of herself, standing firm. “No. You need to go take a bath. Or a shower. I’m not picky. But you smell like a yak and you look like one too.” She smirked sardonically. “Maybe a yak’s backside.”
It was reminiscent of the way the guys used to joke with him, and she hoped a little bit that it would maybe remind him of something… But all she saw was his jaw tighten.
He, shockingly, paused the game. And she thought for a second that perhaps she’d gotten through to him. It was small, but it was a step in the right direction, she supposed…and the monastery living room wouldn’t smell like a barn anymore. But he didn’t move, just sat there looking at the television, mulling something over.
He stood, not looking at her, and she backed up a step because the waves of anger rolling off of him were a little overwhelming.
When he spoke, it was even and measured but almost trembled with emotion. “According to you, I’m supposed to be your fiancé, right?”
She blinked, stunned for a moment. “Y-yeah…” she breathed. She hadn’t expected him to actually acknowledge that himself.
He swallowed. “Did you always treat him…me like this?”
He turned and she inhaled quickly as she noticed the way his eyes shone red, a telltale sign of his newfound fury, but she steeled herself for the onslaught. She wasn't helpless. She could handle herself in a fight against him. But...she didn't want to.
“Because ever since I got here it's been one thing after another with you.” He continued. “I’m not nice enough. I’m not funny enough. I’m not clean enough. I know I’m not enough for you, but was he?!” Rogue had slowly turned to face her, anger twisting his face to mask the sadness she knew was hiding underneath. “Did you ever even give a shit about him?! Or do you all just miss your punching bag because I won’t roll over and take it?!”
“Of course I love him,” she hissed defensively. “We were supposed to be married by now.”
He laughed, harshly, and began stalking towards her. “That doesn’t answer my question, Lady.”
She tried not to flinch at his clear distaste for using her name, and failed, but she stood her ground. “Jay…” she said, hurt and caution warring in her voice.
“That’s not my name, and you know it, damn it!” He yelled and her brows furrowed. “I’m not that man you all miss anymore! Can’t you all just get that through your thick skulls?!”
“Yes you are,” she said firmly, standing straighter, but even she didn’t believe what she was saying.
“No. I’m not.” Rogue growled, getting close enough she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. She felt her hair start to stand on end, reacting to his natural energy field. “Whoever you think I was, he’s dead and you’re never getting him back. Move on already.”
Her eyes stung at that. Throwing her worst fear back in her face like it didn’t matter; like her love didn’t matter… “Don’t you dare say that,” she bit back. “I’m not giving up on you. On him. I promised him.”
“You’ve already given up on me.” His face was almost disgusted with her, but there was still that pain and anxiety she knew too well. “You won’t even give me a chance because you want me to be him. I’m not him, and you can’t make me him. Not even you stupid ninja are that powerful.”
Nya pressed her lips together. Had Jay always been this capable of hurting her, or was it just compounded by her gut wrenching loss? But even still…she could recognize his hurt even under the uncharacteristic wrath.
“Fine,” she spat.
She reached forward and grabbed him by his scruffy cheeks before pulling him in and kissing him.
She expected him to struggle. She expected him to push her away and wipe at his mouth derisively. She expected more anger and hatred and vile words thrown her way.
She didn't expect him to kiss her back.
It was rough and violent, not at all like the shy, loving kisses Jay peppered her with over the years, but something about it was almost…familiar. It was in the way he clutched at her waist, the way he’d pull back to breathe before recapturing her lips, the way his hands stroked her her like she was the most precious thing in the world. Despite being at each other’s throats only moments before…they were now locked in a passionate embrace. Nya hadn’t been expecting it when she’d had a moment of weakness and kissed him, but she was far from complaining.
He still stunk and he still desperately needed a shave (a nice goatee she could live with, but this scruff? It had to go). His eyes still bled red against the blue she loved, and he still had all that anger he didn’t know what to do with. But underneath all of that…he was still her Jay. And she still loved him. And she’d still fight for him.
He pulled back, breathing heavily. A string of saliva connected their mouths that neither of them cared to swipe away, and his eyes slid open to look at Nya. “You…” he started, voice much softer now. “What?!”
“Bath,” she said, squishing his cheeks. The stubble was hiding his freckles that she loved so much. “Clean up and then we’ll talk, okay? Actually talk. None of this arguing anymore.”
He looked at her for a moment, weighing his options. “Okay…” he said slowly. “And you’re…you’re not going to lie to me. Are you?” She caught a flash of fear in his eyes.
Her heart broke, but she shook her head. “No.”
“I…I believe you…for now,” he said before squeezing her hips and letting go. “But I…” He looked like he wanted to say something else, but he just closed his mouth and exited the room, heading in the direction of the bathroom.
Nya let out a sigh and brought a hand up to her lips. All those years…with Cole…Nadakhan…her being the sea… He’d always fought for her tooth and nail. No matter what, he’d always loved her.
It was time for her to do the same.