Shards of Glass
Summary: This is not the way it was supposed to be. Marina has won, but it does not feel like a victory at all. OneShot.
Warning: Features the death of a main character, major drama, angst and a very scary Marina. Beats me why I never can think of a nice, pointless, fluffy little story for my favorite characters. Last chance to run.
Do you know this feeling? You've been waiting for something for seemingly ages and then it is there and it is nothing like you expected it to be? And you look at it once and twice and trice and it is even better, even more than you could ever have expected? That's what reading vol4 was like for me. There are a million questions still unanswered but I loved every single page - even the four black ones.
Set: Story-unrelated, future-fic
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. I don't own Night School.
This is not the way it is supposed to be.
Marina has thought of this moment often. She has dreamed of it and pictured every word, every movement in vivid colors. But something has drained the colors from her world. Something has caused every sound to be muted, everything to feel terribly wrong. Now that she finally has what she always dreamed of.
The grey sky is a mirror of her feelings. The rain pours down as if heaven was mourning, crying out in helpless, unbearable pain. The seer lifts her face to the sky but the cold wetness does not reach her. She sees past the window glass and yet sees nothing.
"Take her away!"
"The safe-ways are blocked!"
"Retreat! Get going, go!"
"There are more of them, right behind us! We have to…"
"I'll take care of it! Now GO, Goddamnit!"
"Marina?"
Ten peeks through the door of her room, her face carrying the same mixture of anxious worry, unbearable sadness and enormous relief she has been showing for the last days.
"Do you want to eat something?"
"No, thanks," she replies without turning around. As expected, Ten doesn't bother her further. She carefully slips back outside, closing the door behind her and leaving her to her solitary, self-chosen confinement. She never has considered her room as small, but now, the walls are closing in. Angrily, she kicks at the chair standing right next to her. She manages to bruise her toes.
"Damn!"
She kicks it again, and again, until it bangs against the wall with a splitting noise. Her foot hurts. Screaming wordlessly, she starts demolishing the furniture: the desk, the chair, the sofa. Books are torn from the shelves. A picture frame clatters to the ground, the glass broken. Marina doesn't even feel the pain as she cuts herself on it. Her eyes feel like they are raw and hurting, but she does not cry.
"Don't cry, Marina. You have to be strong now."
"But…"
"Promise me."
Blood. Red drops trickle down the pale features as coughs rack her body.
"I don't have to, you'll be fine, the healers will be here in a few seconds…"
"You have to be strong for him, okay? You have... You have to take care of him now. Someone... Someone has. Promise me you'll be there."
Suddenly, the grip around her hand tightens painfully. She flinches not only at the pain but at the emotions she can read in the eyes of the dying person in front of her.
"You owe me at least this."
It is not the funeral that upsets her. It is not the beautiful, sunny day they bury the body of a person dear to them that makes her want to turn back time. What really gets to her are the days that have been passing since it happened, and the fact that she still hasn't cried. She cannot. Her heart hurts like it is tearing apart and her throat feels like she has swallowed shards of broken glass. Her eyes burn and she is tired to death but she cannot sleep. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees a face.
It's an empty face, devoid of all emotions.
Eyes are sunk deep into their sockets; the complexion is one of a sickly white. It's a familiar face. Familiar and yet so strange. She has never seen it like this before and she shudders every time she thinks of it. Eyes open wide; there still is nothing left in them. No life. No light. No emotions. She does not know whether she should be angry, or afraid, or plainly scared. And whenever she closes her eyes, those eyes are there.
There is blood everywhere.
"Where are the healers!"
Somebody is talking, talking to her rapidly but she does not understand a word. Blood is on her arms, her hands, even in her face. She can feel it, hot and sticky. The scent is in her nose and in her mouth and makes her gag. Underneath her knees, the earth is hard and cold. Marina is a seer. She knows the future, and right now, she knows there is nothing they can do for this person. But for the first time in her life, she refuses to believe.
"No! No! NO!"
An endless stream of useless negations leaves her mouth while she presses against the horrifying wounds with both her hands, holds together ragged flesh and shattered bones.
"That's not what I wanted! No! Please-"
Nobody knows whom she is begging and nobody answers her pleas. If there is a God, He refuses to interfere and that moment she loses her faith in a greater deity. Silence falls as the few people around her finally realize that death is inevitable.
Ten has the decency to leave her alone in her anger. Jaq and Jay have, too, and Terrence has to deal with his own emotions. Nadya does not care about decency and politeness. She enters her room without knocking, shutting the door behind her firmly, and takes a look at the scene of destruction unfolding in front of her eyes. In its middle, Marina stands, panting heavily. Nadya simply waits until the younger woman has exhausted herself. Then she walks towards her, carefully taking her hand and pulling her over to the bed in order to expect her wounds. Marina follows will-less.
Nadya cleans the shallow cuts and wraps a paper handkerchief around her hand without speaking. Her face is hidden in the darkness of the rainy summer's evening. She hasn't shed a tear, either. There is nothing in her face or her demeanor that suggests she has lost someone precious. Suddenly, Marina is fed up with her friend's calmness. She yanks away her hand so fast she almost hits her in the face.
"What are you doing?" She screams. "She's not going to come back!"
"No."
She, of all, should have known what would happen. After all, she is a seer. She is the one who is able to see the future in dreams and visions. And she had known. Still, she hadn't said anything.
She hated herself for it.
She didn't see the real danger. She didn't see the final result of the fight. Still, she should have said something before they left. She should at least have prevented them from leaving in such small teams. Three people weren't enough to deal with such enemies. Especially if one of them wasn't a trained hunter. She should have told them.
She hadn't.
"So what do you want to do?" Nadya asks quietly. Marina stares at her, her eyes bright with hate.
"Don't you care at all? You're heartless!"
"You don't mean that."
The hunter doesn't even lift her voice. Her eyes are grey pebbles in a pond. She stares at Marina with an expression in which sadness and understanding are intermingling. But she doesn't understand. She can't, because she has never been like her.
"How can you possibly understand how I feel, Nadya? You never knew her the way I did! You never loved her as I did! You never hated her like I did!"
There it is: the unbearable truth.
His face when they told him was the worst thing she ever had seen in her entire life. Green eyes stared at her in sheer disbelief. He refused to believe until he had seen her, her body torn and shattered, her hair tangled and bloody.
Dead.
And when she had thought his face had been a nightmare when she told him, now she was taught differently. It was a mask, nothing else. Something died in his eyes that day; something that she never noticed had been there before but now knew it had been because it suddenly was gone. He stared at her for a time that seemed like hours. He didn't blink. He didn't move. She tried to pry him away, to spare him the sight. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. Finally, he closed his eyes and turned and left without once looking back.
"She always had everything she wanted! She was intelligent, and strong, and beautiful! She was a hunter and she knew her path – she never was afraid of nightmares! She never feared to lose her mind! Everyone loved her and she wasn't even remotely special! And as if she didn't already have everything she could possibly want, she went and took away Cass from me! She didn't deserve him, she never was able to understand him the way I do! And then she goes and dies and has the cheek to actually tell me to take care of him! Who died and made her Queen? I don't care what she wanted; I'm not going to let my life be influenced by her just like that even after she has died!"
Sunshine.
A graveyard.
Two things that don't go together well, at least not if you believe what the novels and dramas tell you. On a funeral, it must be raining.
Heaven seems to be laughing at those foolish people and their imagination, because there is no single cloud to be seen that day. Few people have gathered and even fewer seem to be here because they want to. Marina sees a few old friends and some teachers and a councilman who undoubtedly has come to check on Daemon's Clave. The Council still hasn't understood that they are grown-up and independent now. It can't control them any longer. They are not the dangerous, freaky children they once were any more.
(They still are dangerous, but at least, they're no longer children.)
The ceremony is brief. During the little speech, Marina looks up and notices Cass isn't there, either.
Nadya doesn't answer, doesn't interrupt her tirade.
She just listens and in the end, Marina has no words left. The rain has stopped. The clouds are breaking apart, carefully revealing a small piece of a summer evening sky. Marina sinks down on her bed next to her friend and stares off into the distance. She only realizes she is crying when she feels something wet running down her cheeks.
This is not what I wanted!
She repeats the words, again and again, but the grey stone remains silent. Marina collapses in front of the new grave, digging her hands into the fresh soil and staring at the stone without seeing it. She sees dark stains of blood and open wounds and organs she knows she shouldn't be seeing. She sees dark hair matted with blood and a hand that is still clinging to the knives she has been fighting with. She sees the ring around her right index finger, the pale patch of skin that is normally covered with a thin band of gold.
"Promise me, Marina. Take care of him."
As the absurdity of the situation strikes her, Marina throws her head back and starts laughing. This is absolutely insane. The woman who has raised her has entrusted her the man she always has been in love with. She has asked her to stay by his side and to care for him. Dying, Rese has granted her only wish in the world.
Finally.
After years of fighting against Rese, her mother, her sister, her role model, after years trying to win Cass's heart and still knowing she isn't good enough. After all those years he is hers now. She can cast aside jealousy and longing. She'll be there for him now; she'll help him to get over Rese's death. She'll care for him in a way Rese never was able to do, she'll be better than Rese in every way that matters. She'll make him forget Rese; Rese will be nothing but a dark shadow in the background of his memories. Rese, Rese, ReseReseRese. Cass is so utterly broken right now she can do whatever she wants, she knows this. He'll cling to the few people that care for him. He'll be hers to shape.
Marina has won.
It does not feel like a victory.