Post 2.08 – Death Didn't Become Him
The blonde pulled her knees to her chest and stared up at the stars scattered in the inky sky between the slowly drifting shadows of clouds. She should not have been up on the roof; it was out of bounds to her. The Ash would not be pleased. The thought amused her, although she was not entirely sure why; another spell in the dungeons did not exactly appeal. That was what she would get, if she was lucky, for disobeying the newly imposed rules for humans in the 'employ' of the Light.
A wry smile stretched her lips tight as she took another long drag of her beer, savouring the bitter liquid for a moment. She needed the air. She needed the dark and the quiet and the cold to wrap itself around her. She needed a semblance of freedom. No doubt Lachlan's guard dogs would be out looking for her soon, if not already. Well fuck Lachlan. And fuck the fae. A dark chuckle escaped her lips at the thought. They could drag her back kicking and screaming. They could throw her in the dungeon. They could even do one of the many nasty things that slimy, smirking bastard had promised if she stepped out of line. But right now she needed this.
She was done. Lauren Lewis would not play the good little slave anymore. The old Ash had been worth her loyalty, or so she had thought at the time. He had at least treated her with a modicum of respect. Not Lachlan. She had taken her oath to the Light Fae but it meant nothing to her now. She had sworn her life away under false pretences. She suspected now that her previous master had lied to her. He must have known that Nadia had been cursed. At the very least that she did not have the fae plague he had asked her to help cure. He may have even had a hand in it. The thought sickened her. What had it been that the Lich had said? That the Ash had been very wise to snatch her up... If nothing else he had taken advantage of the situation, at worst he had manufactured the whole thing, had Nadia cursed himself.
She shoved a blonde lock behind her ear in irritation. She had been so stupid! Anger reared its ugly head and in a moment of sudden rage she threw the now empty beer bottle blindly into the dark sky. It smashed somewhere in the distance and in that moment she could not care less if it had done any damage. In fact the idea it might have landed on something, or someone, pleased her. They had taken her life from her; taken their lives from them, she corrected. A beer bottle to the head was the least they deserved.
All those years spent at medical school had been wasted. For all her years of research and learning, for all her knowledge, all the meticulously learnt facts and figures concerning science and medicine and so many other things, for all her supposed intellect, she had not seen what was right in front of her. Her normally keen and analytical mind had failed her. She had spent the last five years searching for the cure to an imaginary disease without even an inkling that she was barking up the wrong tree. Not even the right damned forest! She scolded herself bitterly. She felt like the pathetic human she had strived so hard not to be. Had love and guilt and desperation blinded her that much?
She had spent the past five years learning every aspect of Fae lore, assimilating herself into this strange world and building a reputation for herself. The insatiably curious scientist had gleaned some pleasure from her discoveries, she begrudgingly admitted to herself with a sneer. The science had kept her going in her darkest hours, had given her something to focus on, something to lose herself in. But it was always with one goal in mind: Saving Nadia. It had all been a lie! She was no closer to a cure than she had been all that time ago in the Congo.
Because you don't cure a curse, you break it... She laughed bitterly.
She had watched the fae recover as the love of her life deteriorated. The Ash had clapped her on the back, congratulated her for the medical advancements she achieved as Nadia slipped into a coma. He had offered her a solution no more real than her girlfriend's illness. Had he known, or had he been as clueless as she? Had he been manipulating her from the very moment they met? It made no difference now, she supposed. Things were what they were. She could detest the turn of events that had led her here, she could abhor the wasted time and effort, but wishing for things to be different was about as useless to her as the nail in her pocket. She was right back at the beginning again. She swiped angrily at the solitary hot tear burning a trail down her cheek, then those making a bid for freedom from liquid chocolate pools.
She had not cried then. She needed to be strong for Nadia, so she did not let her grief and desperation show. It had been easy at first, when she had still been working on the cure. It was easy to disappear into the role of doctor and lock away her emotions, to dive into her microscope and Petri dishes. When Nadia had started to show signs of sickness it only served to push her harder, working tirelessly day and night, ignoring cramped muscles and exhaustion. But when Nadia got worse even as the fae recovered? When the woman she loved slipped further from her while the strangers returned to perfect health? Her strength had threatened to wane then, when she realised the cure would not work for her girlfriend. She had donned her impassive doctor's mask though, cutting off her feelings and intrusting her hopes to science. She had forced a smile on the rare occasion Nadia's eyes would blink open for a few moments. She had hoped it reassuring when she could no longer bring herself to utter empty promises. Her belief that she could cure her lover faded as the days passed, even if her heart always dared to hope.
After Nadia succumbed to the coma, she had kept up the pretence to impress her new 'employer'. She quickly learnt that as a human in the fae world she must appear unwaveringly strong, mentally and emotionally, to make up for her lack of physical supremacy and supernatural ability. Any sign of weakness would have left her vulnerable to preternatural appetites. Even as she held her lover's limp hand in her own, as she let it fall away as the pod closed, she did not cry.
A single tear never escaped as she faced Nadia's parents and lied to them. It was the first of many lies she would tell. It had not hurt nearly as much then as it did now; it had always unsettled her, lying, but it did not feel like a stab to the heart back when she had still naively believed she was doing the right thing, that the ends justified the means. One of the Ash's conditions was that the world must think her lover dead. She had volunteered, felt it her responsibility, to break the news to them, however untrue it may be. They held her responsible of course, and who could blame them? It was her fault; she had dragged Nadia off to the Congo. It was her that had promised their daughter the grand adventure that had gotten her killed. She had sworn to keep her safe and failed. She never stopped shouldering that responsibility. Sometimes, in her darkest hours, just like this one, she questioned what she was doing with the Fae; was she really trying to cure Nadia or her own guilt?
Her eyes had misted but she blinked the unshed tears away as she stood stoically amongst a sea of black at Nadia's sham funeral. She was a lone, still figure, the calm at the centre of the dark, howling storm of weeping friends and relatives. She knew what they must have thought of her, cold bitch, but she could no longer bring herself to care. She had always been the strong one and she resolved that she always would be, appreciated or not. Tears had no place in that. She was so numb then and hiding behind the solemn, unaffected facade had already become second nature. Whether she cared to admit it or not, she had mourned Nadia that day. Logically, she knew working for the fae was a long shot, but it was a chance she had to take, a sacrifice she would gladly make, even if there was only a glimmer of hope. She never thought for a moment to mourn the loss of her own life.
It was not until she was alone in her new quarters in the Ash's compound almost a month after the entire ordeal had started that she gave in. Looking around the bare, cold, impersonal space that somehow had come to echo her life, she collapsed in on herself, giving in to the grief and loneliness that had been threatening to overwhelm her for so long. She had not cried, not really, truly cried since.
Five years of solitude, no friends or family, no life outside of the lab, and what did she have to show for it? Nothing. She had gotten nowhere. Because there was nowhere to get! She reminded herself, hands scrubbing over her face and raking back through her hair in frustration. She had been chasing her own tail, running circles on a track so far removed from the one she should have been on it was hard to grasp. She felt so lost, she had no idea where to turn now; a plague was something she was equipped for, something she could fight in her own way. She could run tests and do research and concoct cures. But a curse? She had no idea how to go about fighting a curse. And to top it all, she no longer had access to the Ash's library of ancient volumes that may have yielded the answers she so desperately sort. She was so confused, had so many questions; how? Why? Who? And she was just so damned angry! At the Ash, at the fae in general and most of all at herself.
She did not know when she had moved but she looked down to realise she was swinging her legs over the edge of the roof. Her fingers gripped the concrete until her knuckles turned white. She welcomed the pain that shot through the delicate bones and the cold creeping deep into her flesh. She deserved it. After all, maybe she would have been more focused if she had not been busy betraying Nadia with another woman. She bit her lip to hold back the tears, turning her eyes back to the heavens, as if the starlight could somehow swallow her; she had betrayed Bo's trust too.
She had never meant for it to happen. She laughed humourlessly and rolled her eyes at the thought. How many other cheating lovers had said that? That was what she was; she had no doubt about it. Nadia was still her girlfriend, coma or not. She realised in that moment that it had been too easy. It had been too easy to fall for Bo because somewhere in the last five years she had given up. Looking for the cure had become so routine, like brushing her teeth in the morning. She had been simply going through the motions, sleepwalking through existence for some time now. At some point she had said goodbye to Nadia, and in turn herself, without ever consciously acknowledging it. Then the succubus had come along, strolled straight into her life without invitation and reawakened parts of her that had long lain dormant.
She still loved Nadia but somewhere down the line she had let her go. But now? Now there was some semblance of hope and the old feelings stirred. As vague as it was, she at least had an answer, a direction to head in, even if she was still stumbling in the dark. Nadia was, or had been, the love of her life. Whether it was still true or not she did not know but her heart clung to the memory of her smile. And then there was Bo. She had never meant to feel anything for her. She had attempted to keep a professional distance. But Bo had a way of pulling her in that had nothing to do with her succubus powers. Somehow the fae had gotten under her skin. She knew she should have told Bo the truth but she had gotten so used to keeping secrets. She was so used to her thoughts and feelings being of no value that she had locked them all away behind her mask. She had forgotten herself in the time she had spent serving the fae and it was only now that she was re-remembering who she truly was.
And she was disgusted with herself. She had lied and cheated and manipulated. She had betrayed Nadia. She had climbed into bed with Bo as she lay unknowing in the Ash's compound. She had broken Bo's heart with her dishonesty once before and she was helplessly careening towards doing it again. Kissing Bo in front of Nadia had been foolish, a weak moment she regretted. She could not help herself though. Nadia was unaware of course but it still felt wrong. Bo had been so good to her, taken care of her when she was in hiding, helped her search for a cure for Nadia. She had been the first person to show her kindness in such a long time. The first person to make her genuinely laugh, even smile, to bring tears to her eyes, to make her feel since her servitude had begun. Bo was the first Fae to ever consider her an equal. She had never used her for food, or any other selfish purpose. Instead she put Lauren first. She had set aside her own happiness, even endangered her own life. All of that and so much more stirred long unused emotions with her, had her wanting to kiss the brunette every time she looked at her. Now she had ruined it all because she could not bring herself to be completely honest, not even with herself.
She could hear the angry shouts echoing in the courtyard below her but they barely penetrated her consciousness. She was so conflicted it felt as though she was literally being pulled apart. It was a physical pain, ripping and surging through every fibre, leaving her breathless and shaking. She fell back away from the edge, wrapping her arms around her quivering frame, curling in on herself and sobbed; the first real, honest, pain-filled sob she had allowed to wrack her body in five years.