#I NEED ace to be the catalyst for getting her to forgive carson

[naancypants]

Reparations

(Ao3) | 1,528 words

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Things for the Claw Crew have been less than ideal lately. The Marvin Empire is pulling Bess farther and farther down an uncharacteristic road of ladder-climbing and cold, uncaring business deals. George & Nick are on the outs because of an ongoing emotional disagreement. Now, to top it all off, an angry spirit named Camila Carmody is vowing to make good on George’s old blood bucket curse by claiming her life before midnight.

Enacting a ritual to capture Camila’s vengeful spirit for good is the only way to ensure that she will never terrorize another soul in Horseshoe Bay again. Nancy and her friends are all stationed at different areas of an abandoned hospital by the ocean, preparing to do just that.

As soon as Ace shuts the slotted storage room door behind them, Nancy sinks to the ground with a pointed heaviness. “Just when I thought my life couldn’t get any worse - here I am! Hiding in a closet because we’re going to kill an angry sea ghost that’s after.. my friend’s.. blood.”

The way her tone quiets down at the end of her sentence reveals to Ace that there is more beneath the surface she wants to say. He drops to the floor next to her and patiently waits to hear what she is thinking.

“First my dad got arrested. Then my dad wasn’t my dad. Then my dad was Ryan Hudson... and then my boyfriend died. And now that I’ve finally had enough time to process everything, I thought it would start to feel better and yet it doesn’t. I have no idea what I’m doing wrong. What am I doing wrong?”

“...Do you want me to answer that question?”

Nancy lets out an incredulous huff, causing her strawberry blonde curls to bounce a little with the movement of her shoulders. “At this point, I’m open to suggestions.”

Ace takes a moment to decide how best to put what it is he wants to say, then states in a soft tone of voice, “I think you’re bein’ too hard on your dad.”

Without missing a beat Nancy breathes out a sardonic, “Which one?”

“Both.”

Another silence envelops the small room.

“...But especially Mr. D.” Their eyes meet, and Ace is struck by her surprisingly calm demeanor; one that quietly urges him to elaborate.

“You know he raised you. He took you in when he didn’t even have to. All that means nothing now that he kept one secret from you?”

“Yeah, well it’s one hell of a secret.”

“You keep secrets, too.”

“None like that! I mean that’s - that’s my entire life.” There’s a certain quiver to her voice, a fleeting break in her usual stoicism that Ace can only imagine she hates to hear from herself. Without giving much thought to the action, he places a comforting hand on her knee.

“Everything he does is for you, Nancy.”

He looks over at her with as relaxed a face as ever. The next words fall lithely out of his lips, “People are gonna disappoint you. Don’t hold it against them.”

An unsettled feeling begins to claw at her conscience. She knows who she is - strong-willed, determined, and stubborn as an ox when it comes to admitting her pride - but she also knows who Carson Drew is. Kind, compassionate, and far more forgiving than she could ever deserve.

So then why does she still feel so indignant, as though she has been wronged and betrayed by the one person she had always trusted the most? No, she isn’t ready to forgive him.

But when will she ever be?

While Ace is looking away she examines the vaguely-lit angles of his face, contemplating. She breaks the tension with a lighthearted quip. “Well you never seem to disappoint me, Ace.”

A small grin forms on his face as he glances back at her, this time holding her gaze for more than a few seconds.

Suddenly the walkie-talkie in Ace’s back pocket crackles to life, and this time, the glance they exchange is out of mutual understanding that it’s time to take action.

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Hours after a successful mission, the crew is gathered at the Claw as per their usual habit of unwinding after a day full of chaos; the clock, however, is going on 11PM and everyone - especially poor George - is exhausted. Nancy watches with wistful eyes as Nick slides George’s arm across his muscled shoulders, acting as her literal and metaphorical rock in spite of everything they’ve been through. They amble their way out the back door as Bess exits through the front, Ace having silently taken on the task of finishing up the closing process for the Claw.

As the only other remaining soul on site, Nancy slides into a bar stool with hands folded in front of her. “Hey. I, uh, didn’t get to say it before, so thank you. For listening.”

Ace glances up only briefly as he finishes loading a storage cart with wine glasses, “Yeah, no problem.”

Her eyes follow his frame as he places the cart on top of another inside a lower cabinet. He slides the door shut with a single swift motion and wipes his hands on a dish towel. The quiet atmosphere is rather nice, Nancy finds. Peaceful - but she knows that its existence is only temporary, at least until she crafts another sentence to fill it with.

“I know I have a tendency to get stuck in my head,” she starts, “And I know how much it... pushes people away. I’m just having a hard time reconciling who I thought Carson was with who he turned out to be,” she observes Ace’s soft expression as he steps up to her spot at the counter before bitterly finishing, “A liar.”

The silence that follows would have been bearable if not for the fact that her words cause him to be noticeably disappointed in her, as evidenced by the way he shifts uncomfortably when sliding his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. He pouts his lips for a moment and looks down at the counter. “I don’t really think that’s fair.”

She starts to protest, but decides against it. Her mouth closes and she lowers her face, trying in desperation to ignore Ace’s gaze boring right through her.

“Your father’s a good man. He deserves to hear it from you.” Ace says simply. The words are so haunting that the same unsettled feeling from before returns in full swing, this time leaving an icy chill in its wake.

All she can do is stare at him in awe, though it’s a sentiment she manages to keep blanketed under an impenetrable facade.

His eyes only linger for a moment before he turns and disappears into the kitchen, from where Nancy eventually hears the back door.

She sits unmoving in the dim restaurant for longer than is perhaps necessary.

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At some point she picks up her keys and closes the Claw behind her. On the drive home, Nancy begins to wonder what her friends are doing at that moment - how they are coping.

George is wrapped up in a blanket, safe and secure at home. Nick has still not left her side, offering up a hot herbal tea from Victoria’s recipe book and sitting with her in front of the fire. He drapes a gentle arm around her shoulders, relieved to finally have all worries of danger and arguments forgotten & behind them - for the time being, at least.

Sitting at her vanity table at Aunt Diana’s, Bess numbly traces a finger down the multiple scars she acquired tonight and inadvertently smears blood along with the removal of her makeup. Bess’s internal struggle has only been worsening; that inevitable divide between the family she has always dreamed of and the cold, steely disposition that comes with being one of them.

At last, breaking through her thoughts, Nancy arrives home.

As she steps into the entryway the first thing she sees is Carson Drew dropping a stack of papers onto the dinner table. In addition to a teal button-down, he also wears the same resigned, dejected expression that has become his default since the truth about Nancy’s parentage came to light. Carson has more or less bound himself to a vow of silence so as to maintain the fragile peace between them. Watching her dad move so lifelessly, with Ace’s words echoing in her head, it dawns on Nancy how completely and unacceptably unfair that is to him.

When he takes notice of his daughter’s presence across the hall, he is able to identify the prick of tears in her eyes, but says nothing.

Neither does she.

Rather than exchanging words, Nancy feels safer exchanging an embrace. In an instant she has closed the distance between them, arms wrapping around his midsection as though her very life depended on it. It surprises her how quickly he manages to reciprocate the action, despite being caught off guard by it, gripping her tightly with an overwhelming abundance of love and affection that surpasses any mistake she could ever possibly make.