#she doesn't ever give the poor fae child a break
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giorno-plays-piano · 1 year ago
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Thorns In His Mouth
Part VII
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Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader
Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.
Words: 1.2k
Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.
Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV | Part V | Part VI
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"But where are we going?" You hurried after the elf who was walking way too fast on his goddamn perfectly long legs.
"My friend is a phooka who doesn't like sunlight much," Steve said, turning his face to you but not slowing down. "Since magic costs us too much in your world, not many fae can afford constant glamour. And phookas don't exactly look like humans, so he has to hide where not many people can see him."
Oh. You hadn't thought of that. Phookas were black-haired cat-like - or goat-like? - creatures, as far as you remembered from a book about Celtic fairies you've had as a child. It would be incredibly hard not to freak out if you suddenly saw one in the middle of the city.
Poor creature. Where was it living? How hard it would be to not only be unable to use magic, but also communicate with pretty much anyone at all with an exception of fellow faes? Steve, on the other hand, looked perfectly human even with his strange face and piercing blue eyes, his ears perfectly normal. Was he using glamour?
He seemed to be amused with your expression as he laughed, extending his hand to you so you could walk close instead of dragging behind him.
"Do you use glamour to change the shape of your ears?" You blurted out, unable to keep silent to satisfy your curiosity, and then shame bubbled up inside you as you realized it was a too personal question to ask a literal stranger. Nevertheless, you took his hand when his fingers brushed against yours.
His gaze warmed up. "I do. What, do you want me to oblige you and show you their true form?"
"No, no pleasure, I'm sorry! I don't know why I asked that."
"It's a shame," the elf winked at you. "I'd ask you for a wish in exchange."
Warmth crept into your cheeks: was Steve flirting with you just now? Or was it his fae nature showing itself? The fair folk were supposed to be overly playing - or utterly horrifying. Steve, you thought, was likely both.
Turning to the left, away from the bus station with a long queue of tired students nervously clutching their Ipads and Iphones, you followed the Watcher with your eyes on the road instead of looking at him. It never came to your mind that he considerably slowed down his pace so you could keep up with it, his palm warming yours as he held it gently. You missed his intent stare as he stopped smiling, and his eyes flashed oddly.
"Your first lesson," he finally said after a couple of minutes, breaking the awkward silence. "Don't ever bargain with a fae if it demands a wish in return. Always try to propose something first. Give it something valuable, but what you're ready to part with."
"Like my earrings?"
There's a faint smile on his full lips, "Like your earrings."
"But what if I really need to bargain with a fae, and it wants nothing else but a wish?"
Steve abruptly stopped, and you nearly fell down the ground if he didn't catch you, steading you with his unbearably hot palms on your shoulders, towering over you, his expression somber.
"You NEVER bargain with that fae," he said, and your knees started to tremble out of nowhere when he squeezed your shoulders tight. "Never. Come find me, and I will trade something else with you to help."
There's something dangerous in the way his lips crooked, but you continued staring at his face, anyway, like a snake charmer at a cobra - except it was you being controlled, his voice a low command.
"There has always been plenty of malicious fae even in Sacred lands, but many turned worse in exile. You will never guess which one is which, and you don't want to know what they'll do to you if you give them a chance."
"But... but weren't fair folk forbidden from harming us?" Your voice trembled a little, and Steve blew out a little breath, his thumbs drawing circles through the fabric of your blouse to comfort you, probably, after he stopped painfully squeezing your shoulders.
"When you give them a wish, you hand them the power over you. Do that, and the law will no longer work in your favor."
It was a rule #1, perhaps the most important one among the long list of other rules you were given when dealing with the little folk. Never have you ever allowed a fae to ask you for a wish since then, promising yourself you wouldn't waste your own life even for your mother. There was always a different way, Steve said, glancing down at you as he towered far above you. Sacrifices, whatever their nature, rarely led to anything good in the end.
By the time he walked down the stairs to enter the nearest metro station, you realized you had a very vague picture of a place you were going to, immediately asking the elf where he was planning to take you. Why were you leaving fae's part of the city? Did some creatures live outside it? Was it far? Was it a dangerous place, too?
The man was chuckling again at a limitless number of questions you could ask without drawing a second breath. "You were a worrier, weren't you?" He asked, and your cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.
"He lives close," he finally said, motioning to the metro tration. "And no place is dangerous as long as you're with me. You might get nervous, though. It's dark and dirty there."
Dark and dirty? Was it, like, some sort of a cave.
Looking at the growing smile of the elf, you suddenly realized why he was taking you down the metro station. Dear God, that's where that hairy phooka lived, right? Somewhere on an abandoned metro line or between the stations where no one but rats would see him, and so he wouldn't need glamor.
It all felt like some sort of urban legend.
You didn't have it in you to stop, knowing your mysterious friend was expecting results in return for his earnest work, but when Steve was helping you jump over the protective fence right on the tracks, you squeezed his hand, breathing heavier.
"Can I hold your hand, please? This place gives me the creeps," you smiled nervously at him, and Steve let out a loud laugh in his typical fashion, grasping your shoulder.
"You weren't scared of coming to a place full of drug addicts and all sorts of scum, but the metro scares you?" He helped you up when you had finally jumped down, barely believing you were really doing it, your anxity amping up. "Don't fret, you lovely little thing. I know this place better than anyone. I've lived here for many long years myself."
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Tags: @heavenly1927 @yazzzmints @devils-blackrose @lost-and-founds @kennafild @toodlesxcuddles @shygardengalaxy @heimtathurs @moonlightazriel @tsujifreya @lilithmoon92 @greenowlfactif @minshookie29 @nina2697 @youngdreamer3214 @jsrblue
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stones-x-bones · 4 years ago
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It’s Only Water (Day 1)|| Mina, Frank and Bex
TIMING: Current PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable and @inbextween and Frank SUMMARY: After weeks of planning, Frank finally puts his play into motion. When it rains, it pours.  CONTENT: Domestic Abuse references
If she wasn’t so worried, Mina might have scolded herself for how quickly she responded that she’d meet with Bex. Mina really would do anything for her. Anything. Bex only had to ask, and Mina would be there. Even if that meant meeting late at night in the woods. Especially if that meant meeting late at night in the woods. She had her phone out to make sure that she got the location right. She walked carefully, looking out for monsters, people. It grew oddly quiet, the closer she got to where she was supposed to meet Bex. Nothing stirred. That worried her. Everything about this worried her. She tried not to let it show too much. As she drew close to the marker on her phone, Mina called out, “Bex?” She couldn’t keep the worry out of her voice. She couldn’t. She couldn’t. She couldn’t see Bex, and she was supposed to already be there, and everything about this felt wrong. Something was wrong. Mina didn’t have time to comprehend just how wrong it was, though. 
Frank had been preparing this for weeks. Scouting the area, making sure it was secluded, off the path, but not too strangely out of the way. He had set up traps (an iron net, iron bear traps, and his favorite, an iron tripwire that would trigger if she tried to run once she was inside of the area) and built his own seat up in one of the trees to watch and lie in wait. The prosthetic hand he now sported had iron in the fingertips and the knuckles, the palm. Cold iron. It would hurt. He wanted it to hurt. The iron knife he’d stabbed Bexley with was sheathed in his boot, ready for the final blow-- he hadn’t even cleaned the blood off. It would hurt more. He would make it hurt and he would savor it. Finally, he heard her footsteps approaching and pressed himself low, the crossbow in his hand ready to aim. Just a few more steps. She looked nervous. Good. She should be. The first shot was a warning, right in her shoulder. The second was on purpose, a bolt through the leg. Frank dropped from the tree before she could say much of anything and aimed the crossbow once again. “Surprised?” he asked, grinning.
Being shot was one of Mina’s least favorite experiences. It had only happened a few times. Before the two crossbow bolts lodged themselves into her, she’d been able to count the number on one hand. Of course, she’d need two, now. She stumbled, first as one of the bolts sunk into her shoulder and again when she was shot in the leg. The shock was more prevalent than the pain, confusion causing her eyes to widen as she frantically looked around her for the source of the attack. And then he dropped down from a tree. The warden. Frank. His name was Frank. He was a human being with a human name standing there with a gleeful human grin on his face. “You,” she said, and her stomach started sinking as she realized that it wasn’t Bex that asked her to be there. Mina had walked herself into a trap. This was what carelessness got her. This was what being overly emotional and under prepared got her. “I don’t want to fight.” She was already backing up, despite the pain in her leg, looking for a way out of this situation. A part of her wanted to kill him for what he’d done to Bex, kidnapping her and chasing her through the forest. But Bex hadn’t wanted him dead then. Mina doubted she’d want him dead now. 
Frank laughed and it echoed and it was void of any empathy. “You might not,” he growled, “but I do.” He lifted the crossbow again, aiming directly at her. He was tired of waiting, he was tired of being yanked around by people. By Bexley, by her mother, by his own parents. THey’d all done this to him. They’d all made him into this. “I think I’m gonna enjoy killing you, monster,” he growled. He was already enjoying the amount of confusion on her face as she had tried to figure out what was going on. He smiled again, a toothy, angry thing, splitting his face in half. “Bexley says hi, by the way,” he chided. He wanted her to get angry. He wanted to make sure she fought back. It would be pointless if she didn’t fight back. His finger stayed on the trigger, even as he lowered the crossbow. “I dropped by to see her the other week. She was with another girl. At least, until I stabbed her. Not sure where she ended up after that.”
Eyes widening again before they narrowed, Mina practically snarled at the boy, her eyes full of hate. She stopped backing away. “What do you mean you stabbed her?” Stabbed her? Why would he stab Bex? Wasn’t his whole point that he wanted to protect her from the dangerous, murderous Fae? “Why would you stab her? She’s human. She’s human. What about your bloody code?” Unless his code wasn’t like hers. Unless his code just allowed him to kill whoever and whatever he deemed necessary, and he’d now deemed an innocent human girl necessary. Mina didn’t understand it. But she had made him a promise, hadn’t she? “I told you if you hurt her again, I’d take your other hand,” she said quietly, coolly. She wasn’t like him. She wasn’t going to let her emotions rule her. She was furious, though. She’d rip his hand off with claws and teeth if she had to. She didn’t care. She shifted her weight into her uninjured leg, keeping herself light and ready for an attack. She wasn’t making the first move, but she wasn’t running either. 
“You’re really asking me why?” Frank spat, bewildered that she was still caught up in this strange narrative that what she was doing wasn’t hurting Bexley. “It’s because of you!” He snarled back, loosing another bolt. But in his fury, it had flown high right. He threw the crossbow down and lunged at her, swinging his new iron first. It whistled through the air. Why wasn’t she getting angry, too? He wanted to see her angry. One swing missed, but he swerved on the back swing to try and slam his knuckles into the side of her face. “My code is about erasing scum like you from the earth! And sometimes civilians get caught in the crossfire. Whatever happens to her now, it’s your fault!” 
“Because I cared about her?” Mina asked, ducking left as he shot. He was just as sloppy as she expected, and, certainly, he could blame it on the missing limb, but she knew what it was. He was reckless, overzealous, out of control. He was a shoddy hunter. No matter. He wouldn’t be much of one at all when she took his other hand. She wondered if Nell’s hellhounds would want it. She stopped wondering about anything as cold iron connected with the side of her face. She couldn’t help but cry out, the heat and cold of the metal at war as she felt the burn forming on her cheekbone. She cradled her face with one hand. “You’re a fool,” she spat out. 
“Because you poisoned her mind!” Frank hissed. His knuckles connected in a satisfying crack and he could smell the iron burning her skin. He grinned and turned back to face her, curling his prosthetic into a fist. “I’m the fool? Have you looked at your life recently? Or her life?” He swung again. Again. Always with the iron fist. He wanted to burn her again. He wanted to hear her scream again. He was backing her straight towards one of his snares. It would bind her leg and burn all the more. “You ruined everything!” He shouted, charging her now, bent low, ready to tackle her.
Mina tried to dodge as many of the blows as she could, but she was tired and injured and slow. She’d been sleeping even worse than normal since she and Adam had gone into the portal. She wasn’t doing her best. Again and again the iron burned her skin, through the sleeves of her shirt. He burned her arms, her jaw. Scales formed around the burns as if trying to protect her, but there was no protection, no tolerance for cold iron. “Have you looked at your— “ she cut herself off with a short scream. She’d pivoted out of the way of his tackle only to step on a pressure plate, triggering a bear trap that dug metal teeth into her leg. 
Frank tumbled to the ground as she pivoted, but his ears were greeted with music as she screamed in agony. One of his bear traps had gone off. He rolled and stood back up easily-- he’d always been agile on his feet-- and turned back towards her. “We had a good thing going,” he snarled, reaching down to slowly pull out the iron knife sheathed in his boot. He held it up to her so she could see the blood caked on it. Turned it over in his hand as he watched her from a safe distance. “And you ruined it. She has to die now because of you.” He gripped the handle of the serrated knife so tight his own knuckles turned white. “I hope you know that this is your fault.” 
“You call a lie a good thing?” Mina asked, but she paled considerably. It wasn’t from the loss of blood, either, or the pain. Not completely. “No, no, no,” she said, her fingers clawing at the bear trap as she tried to free her leg. He would not kill Bex. He would not. Her blood was still on his knife. She bared her teeth at him, sharp and deadly, with a mix of fear and fury pouring itself into her. She stopped trying to mess with the bear trap. She’d rip him apart the second he got close enough to her. She just needed to get him close enough to her. “You’re delusional,” she said, her voice low. She sneered. “It must feel good to be able to lie to yourself like that.”
“A lie?” Frank growled, advancing quickly. But he stopped just shy, watching her teeth bare and her scales crack across her skin. He was confused for a moment, but blinked it away. She might not be the type of fae he thought, but he understood how they worked. He held the knife up. “It wasn’t a lie until you came along!” He lashed out, then, unable to hold his ire back. The blade slashed across skin satisfyingly. “I’m not delusional. You are.” His teeth clenched as he stepped back, away from her grasp. “Thinking you could keep her safe, thinking she could ever have a normal life with you?” He gestured emphatically to himself. “I could’ve taken care of her! I could’ve protected her! Even if she never loved me back, I could’ve given her those things. But you? What have you given her? Really think about it and ask yourself that-- what have you given her except pain and heartbreak?”
“It was a lie to her. She was never going to return your affections.” And maybe Mina didn’t know that explicitly, but she knew it was the truth. There was no way Bex would have seen this reckless boy as anything more than a friend. She jerked back, the knife slashing across her collarbones. “I never thought I could give her a normal life. I just wanted her to be happy.” Without thinking, she ripped the crossbow bolt out of her shoulder and used it as an improvised weapon. He might have escaped her claws, but that gave her attacks just a bit more reach. “I’m not the one that tried to kidnap her. I’m not the one that’s made her bleed. When she wakes up screaming at night, it’s not because of me. She’s not afraid of me.” Mina grinned, mouth bloody. She was breathing heavy. Everything hurt. She managed to stand, even with one leg still caught. “I may be a monster, but you’re the bad guy in her eyes.”
Her words cut Frank deeper than any wound. Certainly deeper than the bolt slashing at him. He jerked back, watching a thin line of blood begin to pool on his arm. Grit his teeth and glowered at her. Without much warning, he lunged at her again, knocking them both to the ground. He grabbed the bolt in her leg as he did and twisted, his other arm bracing against her shoulders as they collided with dirt. “You have no idea why I did what I did! I was trying to save her from them and you people led her straight back!” He lifted his fist and punched at her face. “And now we’re all suffering! You, her, me!” He punched again. “Why couldn’t you just let me take her away from here?”
Between the ambush and the iron and the fact that Mina was already tired and weak, she knew that her chances of making it out of this were growing slim. Pinned to the ground, being beaten, her leg still trapped in the iron maw of a bear trap. Frank wanted to kill her. She was in no shape to even try fighting him off. “She didn’t want you to,” she rasped out. Then she spat blood into his face. “She didn’t want you to take her, so I couldn’t let you.” She weakly reached out with one clawed hand, webbing between her fingers and scales trailing up her arm under her sleeves. She dug sharp nails into whatever skin she could grasp. She hoped he did suffer, for Bex’s sake. 
Frank fought against nails tearing at his skin. He didn’t care. He wanted her to die. He wanted her to suffer. He cried out as they scraped at his face, his arms, his chest. Blood was soaking the both of them, but he knew only his blood would hurt her. He drove his thumb into the bolt hole in her shoulder, the iron of his prosthetic nearly cauterizing the wound as he did so. He could smell it burning. He grabbed his knife once more, still stained with Bexley’s blood, and held it above Mina’s chest. “Odell sends her regards,” he growled, before he drove the knife into her side, right where he knew it would hurt. Where he knew once he left her, she’d bleed out. Slowly, painfully. Suffering. He leaned down close to her. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, and his voice was flat now, “I’ll make sure Bex joins you soon.”
There was still enough fight in Mina for her to scream, not in pain but in raw fury as Frank said that Bex would be joining her soon. She was going to kill him. She was going to kill him. Even if it was the last thing that she did. She lashed out with her claws again, but there was only so much that she could do like this. There was a knife in her side eating away at her slowly. There was still a crossbow bolt in her leg. She was still trapped. There was only so much she could do. But she still tried, still raked her nails against his face. “I’ll kill you,” she snarled out. She felt feverish. “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you.” 
Even through nails raking across his face, Frank could feel the fae getting weaker. He gave his knife another good shove, feeling her blood leaking out over his hand, before he yanked the blade out, listening to its serrated edge tear through her skin, her muscle. Finally, he stood back up, spitting blood down, wiping it from his face with his sleeve. His chest heaved as he looked down at her. “Guess you’re not gonna keep that promise after all, are you,” he spat back, before driving his knife into the ground near her head. He didn’t want the trophy, nor the reminder. He stepped away, tempted, almost, to stay and watch her die. Watch the light drain from her eyes. But if anyone came along them, it would be bad news. He would return tomorrow to dispose of the body. Without another word, he turned and walked back into the brush.
He couldn’t get away. Mina had to kill him before he hurt Bex. She had to. She had to. “Come back,” she muttered. “Come back. Come back. Come back.” She attempted to sit up, groaning but pushing through the pain as her hands went to the bear trap around her ankle, and she attempted to pry it off. She had to get it off. She had to go after him. She couldn’t let him get to Bex. She was weak, too weak to pull it off. She needed to call someone. She needed to call Morgan, tell her to get help, tell her to make sure that Bex was safe. Bex had to be safe. Mina searched for her phone frantically. She found it, and she wanted to sob. She’d dropped it, and it was just out of her reach. There was no one to call. There was nothing to do but sit there and bleed out and hope that he didn’t get to Bex. Mine sat down and pulled her chest towards her knees, careful not to bump the bear trap too much. Not that it mattered. She was in so much pain her eyes were going spotty with it. She rested her head on her knees and put one hand over the wound in her side, attempting to stem the bleeding. She was hurt. She was dying. She wasn’t going to be able to get to Bex. That was Mina’s last coherent thought. She wasn’t going to be able to get to Bex. 
Bex ran. Her heart was beating in her throat. Frank was going after Mina. She held the phone tight in her hand, staring wide-eyed at the messages. It’s not me! She tried to shout, but he’d taken the card out. It’s not me! He’d left it there on purpose. He’d wanted her to see. He knew she’d come running. Or did he? She didn’t care. She didn’t care. He could come for her, she didn’t care. As long as he didn’t hurt Mina, she couldn’t let him hurt Mina. “MINA!” she screamed as she ran through the forest. Flashes of before played at the edges of her vision. Sometimes when she looked down, she wasn’t wearing shoes. Sometimes a fog that didn’t exist curled around her. Sometimes she was swallowing dirt and mud. It didn’t matter. None of it mattered.”MINA!” she shouted again, her voice raw, full of terror, of dread. She was sure this was the spot. Her shoes dug at the ground. She spun in a circle, looking up at the trees. “Mina!” she tried again. “Mina, please!” She twisted and burst through a patch of bushes. “Min--” her voice caught mid word. There, in the middle of the clearing. A body, curled up, so covered in red, she was barely recognizable at first. Bex felt her body fill with ice. She raced over, tripping over her own feet, the vines on the ground, the rocks. She fell over next to her and reached out to touch her, but paused. Was she breathing? “Mina,” she sputtered through tears, placing her hand on her forehead. It came away stick with blood. “Mina, please.” She looked down at the trap around her leg. She needed to get it off. She started prying at it. It wouldn’t budge. “C’mon,” she grunted, “COME ON!”
The tugging at her leg made Mina cry out, even if she tried hard not to. She bit down the sound as much as she could, trying not to be loud. She couldn’t be loud. She couldn’t. Her head felt foggy; she knew she’d lost a lot of blood, too much. She’d lost too much blood. Not bothering to lift her head, Mina moved her hands down to try and help pry off the thing around her leg, but she wasn’t sure-- Everything was so fuzzy. She couldn’t be loud. It hurt. Everything was wrong. There was a tug, the teeth of the trap briefly exiting her leg before they dug back in. “Stop!” she managed to gasp out. “Stop. Stop. Just-- second. I need a second.” She needed a second to catch her breath. She needed a second to remember how to breathe. Blinking blood out of her eyes, Mina finally looked down at the hands near hers, trying to pry the bear trap open, before following them up to see who was attached to them. “Bex,” she murmured, and it felt like there was a weight lifted off her shoulders. Bex was okay. Bex was alive. That was all that mattered. Nothing else mattered. And then everything came crashing back to her, and Mina strained to sit up, her eyes frantic. “No. No, no, no! Leave! He’s still--” She looked around as if expecting Frank to appear out of thin air. “Please, leave! Please, please, please. He’ll hurt you-- He’ll kill-- please, Bex, please.” She tugged weakly at Bex’s hands, trying to push her away, but Mina didn’t have much strength left. All she could do was beg the word repeated and slurring together over and over again. “Please. Please. Please.”
Mina started screaming, hands coming down to try and fold into the mix with Bex’s. She let go briefly when she told her to stop, hands shaking. She didn’t know what to do. She was useless. She wasn’t strong enough. She needed to be stronger. Ripping the knife out of the ground, she wedged it between the teeth, careful not to let it touch Mina, and then gripped the metal of the bear trap as Mina started begging her to leave. Her desperation pushed wild magic into her palms and she felt metal bend under her fingertips briefly. She squeezed and it crumpled and she tore the metal apart until Mina’s leg was free. Her hands burned. She didn’t care. “I’m not leaving,” she said, scooting back up towards Mina’s face. She brushed her hair away from her eyes. There was so much blood. “I don’t care if he comes back.” She would tear every bit of his mind out if she had to. Pocketing the knife, still slick with Mina’s blood, she shoved her hands under Mina’s shoulders and began to prod her to sit up. She was no medical expert, she couldn’t assess the injuries herself. She needed to get Mina back to town. It was such a far walk. They wouldn’t make it. Bex swallowed back tears. “C’mon, we have to go,” she muttered, lifting Mina’s arm around her shoulders. “We gotta stand up. Can you stand?” She wasn’t going to listen to her begging, even if it made her chest seize and her eyes water. “I’m here,” she repeated, “I’m here, I’ve got you. Y-you’re gonna be okay. I’ve got you.” Blood smeared across Bex’s side, but she didn’t care-- all she cared about was getting her back. Saving her. She couldn’t let her die. She wouldn’t. She would drain every last ounce of life from Frank and shove into Mina if she had to. She wouldn’t let her die.
“Please, leave. Please. Please.” Mina kept repeating it, even though her words became choked as Bex started moving her, the wound in her shoulder that had been mostly cauterized by iron opening itself up as her shoulders were tugged on. “I care. I care. I care. I--” She groaned, cutting off her own words, but she managed to stand, even though it was hard, even though she didn’t want to. There was still a crossbow bolt in her “good” leg. She needed to pull it out. She looked down at it, the parts of her brain that were still functioning through the haze of pain and panic telling her what a bad idea that was, and it was an effort not to lean down and pull it out. The main reason she didn’t was because she couldn’t. It was already too much effort to keep herself standing, despite the fact that she was leaning against Bex, barely supporting her own weight. She was getting blood all over Bex. It was like her dream. She was getting blood all over Bex. “I don’ want him to hurt you. Please, go. I’ll--” She gagged against a lie that wouldn’t even come out. I’ll be fine. But she wouldn’t. She was dying. “I don’t want him to kill you. He’s going to try to kill you.”
Bex saw the bolt as they stood and she winced. She needed to take it out, but there would just be more blood. More blood. So much blood. She was trembling, shaking, not from exhaustion or effort. Fear gripped every muscle in her limbs. She had to swallow it down. If she didn’t move forward, Mina would die. “Just shut up!” Bex snapped. “Just stop. I’m not leaving you here to die. No matter what. Let him come.” Let him come. She would tear him to shreds. She moved Mina away from the bear traps, careful to not step on anything else. Lowered her down to sit against a tree before worrying her hands over the bolt in her leg. “I-- I have to pull this out,” they weren’t going to get far if they left it in. “It’s gonna--” she looked at Mina. Hurt stuck on her tongue. She looked like she was in so much pain. The picture burned itself into Bex’s eyes. She would never forget. Never forget. She yanked her jacket off and ripped the sleeve off with her teeth, before setting it under Mina’s leg. She’d taken basic first aid, she new she had to tie off the wound. Above it. “Ready? One, two--” she yanked, “--three.” Tossed the bolt aside and tied off the sleeve as tight as possible. Thunder rolled above them. Mina was slipping fast. She wasn’t going to be able to walk. Bex shuffled in front of her and pulled her arms over her shoulders. Reaching back around to let her sag against her back. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?” she said, and she wondered if it was a lie. “We gotta go now.” She swallowed her tears and her fears and her pain, and lifted Mina, grunting with effort. She would get her home safe. She would, she would, she would.
The bolt being removed from Mina’s leg was nothing compared to the pain in her side. She flinched, barely, feeling the Bex tie the jacket but little else. She leaned her face forward into Bex’s neck before jerking back, gasping. She stumbled, putting her legs down and managing to stand on shaky feet. “No, I can’t--” She put her hand over the wound in her side. The movement had caused it to bleed more, though it was coming out sluggishly. “I can’t.” She wasn’t going to make it home. There was simply no way. The rain might help, might offer some relief to her injuries, but there was no way that she could make it back to town with Bex carrying her, and there was certainly no way she’d make it all the way back to the East End. “Bex--” she stopped herself. Asking Bex to leave wasn’t going to work. She couldn’t do that. “I-- I’m not going to make-- I need water.” This wasn’t how she wanted Bex to find out, but there was no other option. She used the hand that wasn’t pressing into the wound on her side to turn Bex towards her, forcing her to look at her. “A lake. A stream. A pond.” She’d even take a puddle, at this point. “Just-- water. I’m not going-- I can’t. Make it home. But there should be water.”
“Stop moving! Stop!” Bex called out, reaching for Mina as she jerked away. She watched globs of blood pour from her side. Fuck. This was so bad. “Stop. Just--” but Mina cut her off. She wasn’t going to make it home. She wasn’t going to make it. Bex’s mind was combing through the thousands of ways she could try and argue, try and figure out how her stupid magic could help. Why couldn’t she stop the bleeding like Nell could? She wished Nell were here, she’d know what to do. She wished Morgan was here, she could help. But it was just Bex who was here. Just Bex. Thunder clapped again and this time drops of rain began to fall. Lightning lit up the sky. Bex flinched away from it and looked back at Mina as she spun her to face her. “Water?” Water. She could do that. Water. The pool. It made sense. Bex reached back out for her and tucked herself around Mina, helping to support her injured foot. It looked ready to fall off, she could see muscle and bone. Bex held back the wave of nausea and focused on Mina. “Just lean on me. I’ll find you water. I’ve got you.” And she started off. Water, water, she needed to find water. How the fuck was she supposed to find water? “Just stay with me, okay? I’ll keep talking. Focus on my voice.” She needed Mina to stay conscious, she couldn’t do this alone. She had to do this. She had to. “I’m sorry I got here too late. I tried. I came as fast as I could. But I’m here now. And I’m not leaving. What-- what do you wanna do when we get back? Maybe we could see a movie. We haven’t watched a movie in a while.” They were lies. She knew they were, but she wanted to give Mina something to fight for. Maybe she would fight to stay alive for her. Thunder rumbled again and rain poured through the trees above them. Bex felt her feet begin to slip on slick mud as the dirt beneath them soaked up the moisture. She would keep going. No matter what. She would keep going. 
“Water,” Mina murmured. It wouldn’t magically fix everything immediately, but it’d stop her from dying. It’d save her leg. Again. She leaned on Bex again, unable to stop herself from sagging against the younger girl, even if she tried to support some of her own weight. She was so tired. She was so tired. The pain in her side was dulling to a numbness, the heat and chill of where the blade pressed in fading much like she was. “I’m here,” she said, her voice quiet. “I’m here.” She closed her eyes, just for a moment. “Movie’d be nice. Whatever you want. I’m okay with whatever you want.” She couldn’t really hear what Bex was saying, all of it fading into gentle white noise. Soothing. Peaceful. She was dying. Maybe, if she died, Bex would save herself. “Tell Morgan I’m sorry, if you can,” she said. The last time she’d been close to death, Morgan had come for her. Mina didn’t think Morgan was going to be able to come this time. It was for the best. This was much worse. She was just sorry Bex had to see her like this. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry… sorry…” Her voice trailed off. Her thoughts trailed off. Mina couldn’t stop herself from becoming deadweight. 
“We could go back to the falls, too,” Bex said, trying not to let Mina’s dying voice get to her ears. She could hear it, she could feel it. With each step, Mina sagged more and more. Bex’s pace slowed as she strained against her weight. She’d never known Mina was so heavy-- or maybe she had. She’d always felt so light with her. Nothing had ever been heavy. They’d always been light together. “You can tell Morgan yourself, when we get back, okay? You can tell her yourself. Don’t apologize,” she said through tears. They washed down her face and mixed with the blood that had smeared onto her. “There’s nothing to apologize for.” Thunder continued to rattle the sky and Bex’s bones. Lightning was quickly becoming the only source of light. With each flash, she saw trees and more trees ahead of her. They needed to find water. How was she supposed to find water? She knew there was a river that ran through the park. She just had to find it. She could find it. She would find it. She had to keep going.
Suddenly, Bex stumbled. Mina’s weight toppled down with her and she tried her best to keep her from hitting the ground too hard. Bex did. She felt her wrist buckle and cried out. She didn’t care. “Mina?” She looked at the other girl. She was so pale. She’d never seen her so pale. A ghost of herself. Red and white. “Mina, wake up. Mina,” she begged, shaking her. “C’mon, wake up! I-- I can’t do this without you. I can’t do this without you! I need you! Mina!” But she didn’t budge, didn’t move. She needed to get her to water now. Bex’s desperation was growing. Gathering up all her strength, all her energy, all her everything, Bex pushed herself back up to stand, shuffling MIna onto her back fully and wrapping her arms around her legs. She could do this. Shoes wholly unfit for this trek dug into the ground as she pushed on forward, Mina slumped on her back. She wasn’t going to let her die. She let the magic she’d been taught guide itself into Mina-- it didn’t feel quite right, snaking its way down Bex’s legs like little strips of poison, but it was enough. It had to be enough. Thought light thoughts. Maybe it wasn’t the same as feather falling, but if Mina’s weight slumping against her was going to fall anyway, at least it would topple slower. She felt only marginally lighter, but it was enough for Bex to push forward. She tried to listen through the rain as it washed away blood that just kept coming. She couldn’t hear anything over the thunder shaking the sky and the forest. She was lost. Everything looked the same. Tears mixed with rainwater. “I can’t do this alone,” she said again, but she wasn’t sure who to. Mina was unconscious and there was no one else around. She had to keep going.
She was by herself. Alone, in the forest. Running again. Bex choked on her own breath, trying to fight through the nightmares that were clawing their way into her mind. Frank was still out here. He might even come back. He might already be looking for them. She couldn’t fight him like this, her magic wasn’t stable enough, she was struggling just to keep it on Mina. If he found them, they were both dead. She had to keep going. Just like before, she had to keep going.
It felt like hours, as the forest fought against her. But it couldn’t have been. She could still feel Mina’s steady heartbeat against her back. It was growing fainter. If she needed water, Bex could only hope and plead that the rain might be helping slow the process. Mina could heal fast. She couldn’t out heal this, though. Not even with the rain. Bex could feel it. She slipped and stumbled and fell and kept going. Over and over and over again. Her body was reaching its limit, but she just kept going. She had to keep going.
Her foot came down, but the earth beneath it slid away, and now they were falling. Bex cried out, trying to grab onto Mina to keep her from landing too hard,--but the hill pulled her down, pulled them down, and she was tumbling head over heels again. Down a hill, in a forest, running from a boy caught in a delusion. She wasn’t alone this time, even if she felt like she was. Her head smacked hard into the ground and she blacked out. She couldn’t keep going.
Her eyes fluttered open. Rain was the only thing she heard. Rain, a ringing in her ears. How long had she been out? “Mina…” she sputtered. The treetops came into view above her. They were spinning. She blinked but they kept going, rain drizzling onto her face as she tried to make the world slow down. She needed to get up. “Mina.” Pushed herself up, coated in mud and leaves and twigs and blood. Again. She looked around desperately, the world tilting left and right in a daze. “Mina?” Started feeling her way around, wiping mud from her eyes. “Mina!?” A soft groan pulled her attention. Twisted and-- there. Beneath a tree, laying face down. Bex rushed over to her on legs that only stayed up right for seconds at a time-- rolled her onto her back. She was still breathing, heart still beating. Bex bent over for a moment and let out a long sob. Hands curled into Mina’s bloody shirt. She couldn’t do it. She’d failed. Mina was going to die and she’d failed. She curled up on the ground next to her, holding her close. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t…” 
Her voice trailed off. The sound of rain echoed around them, through the leaves and the branches and the rocks. She heard the way it rustled like wind and the rushing of water. She heard the rushing of water. Through the rain battering trees, she heard the rush of water. Bex’s head shot up and she scanned the treeline. Lightning showed her it was thinning. She couldn’t give up yet. She wouldn’t. “C’mon,” she huffed, grabbing Mina again and dragging her towards it. “We’re almost there,” she grunted, her voice breaking at every syllable. “I found it, Mina. I found water. We’re here. We made it. Please, say we made it in time.” 
She broke the treeline and there it was. The river was spilling into a small lake, the sight a sanctuary. Bex dragged Mina over to the shore as fast as possible and waded all the way in with her, until she could fully submerge her. Red pooled at the surface where she held Mina under. “Tell me I made it in time!” she shouted, as she waited. “Please, Mina!” She sobbed. It didn’t show in the rain. Something was happening. Mina’s body was changing in her hands. 
Bex watched, silent. Only the thunder and rain made noise.
When Mina was little, she wasn’t allowed to be herself. She wasn’t allowed to shift, to look Fae. Not completely. Some of it she just couldn’t escape. Scales were hard to control, and they broke out against her skin like rashes when she was dehydrated, when she was excited, when she was scared. She’d always had trouble controlling that, accepting that, but things had gotten better the more she learned to be okay with what she was. In White Crest, things had gotten easier, things had gotten more in control. But she’d used that control to appear more human for as long as she could. She’d used that control to hide herself. 
The thing about nixies was that it wasn’t a glamour that made her scales look like skin. That was really her skin. Those were really her scales. Her appearance changed as she wanted it to, as she needed it to, and it was as useful as it was inconvenient at times. She used long sleeves to cover up her inhumanity just as much as she used them to cover up her scars, and it was fine. She was used to it. She shoved down so much of herself that she didn’t even know how to do certain things. She didn’t know how to shift the bones in her legs until they fused together, and she didn’t know how to feel comfortable with the fact that she wasn’t human. She’d never be human. However, she didn’t know how to be Fae, either, and it was to a point that she didn’t want to ask. She couldn’t be both. She couldn’t be either. 
But pain doesn’t care about what you know. Near death doesn’t care about what you remember. The body will fight to keep itself alive. The body will do what it must to make sure the heart beats. The moment she touched water, Mina began to change. Webbing formed between her fingers, her nails grew into claws, her teeth became sharp. Scales sprung up all over, covering her body. Her feet changed, the bones shifting, becoming longer, thinner, but the process was made uncomfortable by her mangled foot. Mina wasn’t quite awake, but she whined a bit in pain, the sound catching in her chest. She was breathing heavily through the gills in her neck, water and oxygen filtering in and out, and she barely managed to open her eyes, looking through the water above her to make eye contact with beautiful brown eyes before her own fluttered shut again. She was safe. She was in pain, but she wasn’t about to die. Her body had protected itself. She just didn’t know what the cost of that would be. 
As Mina’s body changed, Bex stayed still. She’d known, hadn’t she? That Mina wasn’t human. No one at home but herself had been human. Sometimes Bex didn’t even feel human. But not being human didn’t make someone less. Not to Bex, not to the people who mattered, the people who understood. She held tightly onto Mina the entire time. Scales rubbed against her bare arms. They felt smooth. Her hands and feet turned into webbed claws, fins. The water made sense now. Everything made sense now. Something was warring inside of Bex’s head., but it was beaten down by the desperation she’d been holding onto for the past horrifyingly long moments. She didn’t even know how long it had been. She let her own body sink into the water, floating. It felt nice. She pulled Mina into her chest and let her rest under the water. Thunder groaned in the sky again and lightning pierced through it, lighting the reflections of the surface, her own tired face, caked in mud. Bex looked up at the sky and wondered if it was crying for them. Had the rain given them the time they’d needed to get here? Was God looking down on them, on her? Was something else, something bigger? She didn’t know. She didn’t know anymore. 
Soon, the red was washed away. Bex lifted Mina slowly to examine the wounds. They were angry, red marks that made her just as angry and red. Frank had done this. She wanted him dead. But that wasn’t what she needed to focus on right now. They needed shelter. To wait out this storm. Wind was whipping up, warning her of the monsoon that was to follow. She’d lived here long enough to know. Mina had stopped bleeding enough for now, scales stitching skin back together to close her wounds. The gash in her side still looked so raw, but she could fix that later. Her eyes scanned the edges of the lake, their surroundings. There was a small dock on the other side and Bex waded around towards it, her limbs light in the water still screaming in protest against her movements. She had to keep going.
She reached it and hoisted herself up, holding Mina’s arm with one hand, before hooking both arms under hers and lifting her out as well. She was still covered in scales, claws, fins. If someone saw her like this, Bex was worried they might hurt her again. If Frank saw them, he would hurt them both. She looked back over her shoulder. A building. A house. The boat house. Bex laid Mina on the doc and stumbled towards the boat house, shoving the door open. She grabbed the jacket hanging on the hook-- it was old and moth eaten, but would do. Grabbed the first aid kit, the old safety blankets, a tarp, a lighter, and tossed it into one of the wooden boats, dragging it down the dock to where Mina lay. She pulled Mina in, grabbed the rope and started up towards the building farther back in the trees. It looked old and abandoned, but it would do. With the last of her energy, she dropped the boat off in front of the house and carried Mina inside, wincing and apologizing as her feet dragged on the ground. The only thing her mind would consider thinking about right now was getting Mina inside and safe. Just keep going. You’re almost there.
Once Mina was deposited on the couch, Bex went back out to the boat and grabbed the other supplies, shutting the door and dropping them in the middle of the room, before heading around the house to look for more supplies. More blankets, a towel, more gauze. Something to start a fire. She came back out into the main room and crouched next to the couch, and got to work.
Removed her tattered and bloody shirt and everything underneath, her torn pants and the tourniquet she’d put on her leg. Set to work wrapping each noticeable injury with the gauze. Her leg, her side, her shoulder. Her arms. There were burns she didn’t know how to deal with, but didn’t think she could, anyway. Wiped up the rest of the blood and water with the towel before she laid the old jacket over her bare top, and wrapped the blankets around her legs, tucking her in. Brushed her hair out of her face and put one more blanket on top to keep her warm. She was too tired to clean up the mess.
She had to clean herself up still. She stumbled back into the bathroom with some of the gauze and towel and washed mud and grime from her face, picking out pieces of twigs and rocks and other things. It sat in the sink drain. She wished there was running water, but sticking out the towel into the pouring rain worked well enough. She lifted her wet shirt off and winced, remembering the stitches in her side for the first time that entire day. They were torn. Slowly, she wrapped the bandages around her midsection, covering it up as her hands began to tremble again. Hung up her shirt to dry, a greater tremor in her arms. Exhaustion, this time. Maybe more. She didn’t have time to look at the rest of herself
And finally, finally, when she was all done with that, she shuffled back out into the living room. At first, she sat on the chair at the old table. Her eyes wouldn’t leave Mina. Eventually, she moved over to the floor and sat down next to the couch. She lifted one of Mina’s arms gently and took her hand and laid her head next to it. “I made it,” she murmured. She passed out soon after.
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