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She’s hovering. She knows it, Ava knows it, Dr. Salvius knows it, Mother Superion knows it. Camila and Yasmin are practically giddy about it. It is perhaps the most unspoken but very much known thing that Beatrice has ever encountered in her time as a Sister Warrior. No one has said anything to her and Ava hasn’t complained for a second, but Beatrice is hovering. And she doesn’t know if she can stop.
She woke up well before Ava the night after her fall, even after having the reassurance of everything that they had shared that day, Beatrice came awake with a pounding heart and Ava’s name on her lips. Her limbs are shaking with fear and she can’t breath until she notices the weight on her chest, the warmth that is spread across her body. Ava is there, safe and sound, sleeping peacefully in Beatrice’s arms despite the rough awakening Beatrice had endured. Beatrice pulls the slumbering woman closer, closing her eyes as she tucks her nose into Ava’s hair and breathes her in. Ava moves closer in her sleep, mumbling Beatrice’s name as she adjusts herself and Beatrice can breathe again.
She didn't go back to sleep that night. She simply holds Ava until the sun crosses the horizon and Ava stirs in her arms, turning her face to hide it against Beatrice’s neck. Beatrice’s voice is slightly hoarse when she greets Ava and when Ava pulls back to look at her, Beatrice knows that all of her worries are written plainly across her face. She’s never been good at hiding from Ava.
Ava hadn’t said anything. She’d smiled, a soft, gentle motion that was filled with such easy affection it made Beatrice’s face flush, and then she was leaning up slightly and pressing a kiss to the corner of Beatrice’s mouth. Beatrice smiles, cups Ava’s chin, and pulls her in for a proper kiss. It’s enough to ease her worries and when they realize that they can’t stay in this little bubble in Ava’s room forever, Ava takes Beatrice’s hand in hers and promises that they’re going to face what comes next together. The touch and the promise are comforting enough that Beatrice doesn’t feel like her world is going to implode the second Ava lets go of her hand.
The comfort doesn’t last nearly long enough.
So Beatrice hovers.
She knows where Ava is at all times, whether she’s training or eating or in the shower or talking with someone else, Beatrice knows. She’s not following Ava, per say, but her ever present awareness of what Ava is doing and who she’s with is only growing stronger. She’s by Ava’s side as they plan for the unavoidable confrontation with Adriel, she stands just outside the door when Michael reveals his own holy mission to Ava, and it is only when she is alone that her faith waivers.
She isn’t as infallible as she thinks she is, Beatrice finds out after a quiet conversation with Camila in Dr. Salvius’ lab.
“There’s no shame in it,” Camila tells her and for a second, Beatrice isn’t sure what she’s talking about. “It’s easy to fall in love with the Warrior Nun. It’s loving them that’s the hard part. They’re never yours. They never last.”
Beatrice doesn’t know how to respond and so she doesn’t. She walks away, her mind and heart racing in opposite directions. Beatrice was Ava’s. Unquestioningly so. Beatrice would happily devote her entire being to ensuring that Ava would be able to live the life she’d been denied for so long. Beatrice had offered her heart to Ava long before she knew that’s what she was doing and even if Ava had never given her the time of day, Beatrice would still have left her heart in Ava’s hand. It didn’t matter if her feelings were never returned, it didn’t matter if Ava fell in love with someone else. Beatrice would always be Ava’s.
And then Ava let herself be Beatrice’s.
Beatrice doesn’t know when or how it happened, only that it was already a fact well before they shared a kiss on bloody pavement. Before she let Ava see all of her, before she knew what it felt like to have Ava’s hands on her skin, her touch reverent as she cleaned her own blood from Beatrice’s body. Before she knew the perfect contentment of sleeping with Ava in her arms. Ava was Beatrice’s in spite of all the reasons they should never be together, and Beatrice was Ava’s despite knowing that a Warrior Nun was never alive for long enough.
Beatrice found Ava in a courtyard, practicing levitating down to place the Halo over Adriel’s head, looking like the imperfect that angel that she is and Beatrice melts at the sight of her. She can feel the way the muscles in her face shift into an expression of adoration, feel the way her heart rate calms at the sight of Ava’s grin and Beatrice knows .
She doesn’t give a damn about the rest of the world anymore.
Ava is her whole world. A world that Beatrice is terrified to lose. A world that Beatrice is terrified to let herself have in the first place.
Then, the Halo gives out and Ava comes crashing down to the ground.
She lands roughly on the gravel and Beatrice is by her side a moment later, offering whatever comfort she can. Ava is clearly frustrated by her lack of understanding of the Halo and Beatrice doesn’t know how to help her. They have so little information on what the Halo actually is, let alone how it works. There is no advice that Beatrice can give, no assurances that she can say firmly enough to make Ava believe them.
They’re alone in the courtyard so Beatrice pulls Ava against her chest, supporting the upper half of her body while they wait for the Halo to recharge enough that Ava can move again. Ava is warm and solid against her, a comforting pressure on her side that Beatrice can’t help but to revel in. She never thought she’d be addicted to anything but the feel of Ava in her arms, leaning against her and trusting Beatrice to support her, Beatrice doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the feeling of it.
They walk to Ava’s room - their room really, but Beatrice can’t admit it yet - in companionable silence, Ava leaning against Beatrice as it seems the Halo is taking longer to recharge but has become easier and easier to drain.
“I’ll be alright, you know.” Ava tells her once she’s settled on the bed, sitting up against the headboard. “You can go back to whatever you were doing before.”
“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Beatrice is only partially teasing.
“Of course not,” Ava is sincere, Beatrice can see it in her eyes. “But I’m sure there are a million things to do before we go to Adriel’s cathedral.”
“Maybe, but that doesn’t mean that I have to do them.” Beatrice pulls at the worn threads of her habit. It feels almost uncomfortable, wearing the robes that she’d worn for so long and then been without for only a short period of time. Beatrice doesn’t know what to do with that realization and so she sits down on the edge of the bed, facing Ava.
“I am fine, Bea. Promise.”
“I know.” Beatrice is hesitant as she reaches for Ava’s hand, threading their fingers together. She hears a small, nagging voice in her ear that sounds suspiciously like her mother telling her to let go, to not let herself be led astray again. She thinks back to Camila’s words to her what must have been only an hour ago, and the conflicting emotions go to war with Beatrice’s brain. She remains silent, looking at her and Ava’s interlocked fingers, until she feels Ava’s other hand brush against her cheek.
Beatrice blinks, coming back to herself as the voices in her head are silenced by the thundering of her heart. Ava is looking at her with that soft, intense gaze of hers. She’s filled with understanding, with patience that Beatrice hadn’t known her to be capable of before, with the kind of grace that people had been begging to feel from an almighty, invisible force for centuries and that Beatrice had only found in the eyes of the woman she couldn’t admit she was in love with. It was the same expression that Ava had looked at her with only a few days before, when they stood bare before one another in the single most exposing moment of Beatrice’s life.
“You know, I’ve always wanted to see the world,” Ava comments lightly, her thumb stroking along Beatrice's cheekbone. “As much of it as I can. The seven wonders, visiting every country and continent.”
“Sounds like quite the adventure.” Beatrice swallows as Ava’s hand traces down her arm and then falls away. She aches for the contact to return, but doesn’t let herself voice it.
“One that’s meant to be shared.” Ava turns her head away, looking towards the window where the light of the fading sun can be seen. “I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to do it, you know. Not before all this. And then we were in the Alps and that was enough but now…” She trails off, shrugging.
“We still have a chance, Ava.” Beatrice can hear the uncertainty in her own voice just as surely as Ava can. Ava turns to her, a sad smile on her lips.
“I think your chances are higher than mine, Bea.”
“Please don’t say that.” Beatrice feels her heart beginning to crack inside her chest. Her voice is smaller than it’s been since she was a young girl shipped off to boarding school, begging her parents to still love her. Ava shifts forward, their legs brushing together as she moves close enough to lean their foreheads together. “I can’t lose you again.”
Ava doesn’t say anything. There’s nothing that she can say and both she and Beatrice know that. Their plan to defeat Adriel will either work, or it won’t and they’ll have to use Michael’s backup, and none of those scenarios truthfully favor Ava. Every move they make is a gamble on Ava’s life and Beatrice suddenly wishes that they were anyone, anywhere else. That Ava wasn’t the Warrior Nun and that she wasn’t a Sister Warrior too much of a coward to face her own shortcomings. That there was nothing holding them back. But if Ava wasn’t the Warrior Nun, she’d have already been dead and Beatrice wasn’t a Sister Warrior, they never would have met and Beatrice wouldn’t give them up for anything now.
The kiss isn’t surprising when it comes except for the fact that it’s Beatrice who initiates it. She’d been careful the last time they were in a position like this to let Ava take the lead, asking before she started anything and then, in the days after, only letting Ava initiate any kind of intimate contact. Ava’s lips are warm against Beatrice’s, soft and lingering. She tastes the same as she did the first time they kissed, intoxicating and electrifying. Her hands are gentle as she cradles Beatrice’s head, tilting her own to deepen the kiss. Beatrice’s hands find Ava’s waist, resting there despite the strong urge to use her grip to pull Ava closer.
Beatrice knows at that moment that no matter what happens at the cathedral tomorrow, she won’t let Ava detonate the divinium that resides inside Michael’s body. She won’t lose Ava, even if that means that they lose this battle.
It is the most selfish decision that Beatrice has ever made and yet, when all is said and done, it’s not one that she can bring herself to regret.
The battle at Adriel’s cathedral is long and bloody. So many bodies decorate the gleaming floors, the sight of Father Duretti’s charred flesh almost enough to make Beatrice lose the small breakfast she’d eaten. Beatrice takes her fair share of hits and she knows that her body is going to be little more than one oversized bruise beneath her combat habit. They don’t save nearly as many people as they should and when Ava does finally come down from the ceiling, she doesn’t get close enough to drop the crown of thorns onto Adriel’s head and Beatrice knows right then that they’ve lost.
All she can do now is keep Ava alive to fight another day.
Michael manages to gain the upperhand against Adriel, reaching out for Ava. Beatrice sees the glow of the Halo activating but before Ava can make contact with Michael, Beatrice tackles her to the side.
Adriel knocks Michael away and the battle is well and truly lost.
Beatrice is moving on autopilot for the rest of the fight, clocking where Ava is at all times and panicking slightly when she disappears, but there isn’t time to worry about that now. They’ve called the retreat and Beatrice leaves the cathedral feeling a confusing mix of guilty and relieved. They lost the battle but Ava survived. They had minimal casualties altogether, at least that’s what Beatrice had thought before they arrived back at the manor. Camila was taken captive but the girl was strong, she’d fight long enough for them to rescue her.
Mother Superion was bleeding out on the floor. Dr. Salvius was lingering over her, worry in her eyes and her hands bloodstained as she tried to help with no avail. There was too much damage, too much blood. Beatrice feels oddly unaware of her own body as she watches Ava curl against the only maternal figure she’s ever known, though she is hyper aware of Ava. Of the blood that covers her, of the rips and tears in the leather armor she wears, of the astoundingly bright glow of the halo as Ava cries.
It feels like an out of body experience when Mother Superion comes back to life with a gasp, laughing and crying in tandem as the halo, as Ava , heals her. She’s only vaguely aware of the other voices in the room, of the gasp of amazement and praise that come from the people who have joined them. She’s much more focused on the way that Ava rolls back from Mother Superion, the way that she winces as she moves and looks automatically for Beatrice.
Beatrice moves forward immediately, kneeling at Ava’s side. She notices Dr. Salvius rushes to look over Mother Superion and, confident that she’s in good hands, turns her full attention to Ava. Ava is already looking up at her, her expression soft but unable to mask the pain and question in her eyes. Beatrice’s hands are careful as they wrap around Ava’s hips, letting the woman grab onto her arms so that Beatrice can help her up. Ava is slightly unsteady on her feet and Beatrice wraps an arm around her waist and ignores the voice in her head that tells her to let go.
“Everyone get cleaned up,” Mother Superion instructs. “Meet in the dining room in one hour.”
Selfishly, Beatrice wishes for more time alone with Ava, but she follows the instructions she’s given and leads Ava from the lab, letting the smaller woman lean against her.
“I need to shower,” Ava says softly, the words tickling Beatrice’s neck. “Lilith kinda used an armor display to stab me through the stomach.”
“Do you want me to stay?” Beatrice replies, though it’s impossible to keep the anger from churning in her stomach. Lilith, who is supposed to be their friend, is the reason that Ava is once again covered in her own blood and Beatrice has never felt so furious at another person before.
“Always.”
They remain silent as Beatrice walks them to the bathroom, the same one they had shared their first shower together in only a few days before. She helps Ava remove the leather armor that she wears, wincing in sympathy when she sees the long, scarred cuts that run across her abdomen. She doesn't know what takes over her at the sight of them, but Beatrice finds herself kneeling before Ava and pressing her lips to the marks.
Ava sucks in a sharp breath between her teeth and Beatrice looks up at her. The apology she begins to say dies on her lips when Ava shakes her head, silently assuring Beatrice that she hadn’t done anything wrong. Reassured and feeling an odd combination of bravery and the unfiltered desire to know with absolute certainty that the Ava standing before her is safe and whole, Beatrice takes it upon herself to press a gentle kiss to each new bruise and scratch as they are revealed to her. The contact is fleeting, barely enough pressure to be called a kiss at all, but it’s enough for Beatrice to feel Ava’s warmth against her and she feels the fear and adrenaline give way to guilt and anger.
It’s there, kneeling on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor with Ava in front of her, that Beatrice breaks.
Ava’s arms wrap around her as the cry forces its way from Beatrice’s lips, guiding her to ruck her head against Ava’s stomach. She wraps her arms around Ava’s waist and holds tight.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” Beatrice repeats and for a long moment, she isn’t sure what she’s apologizing for. For letting Camila be taken. For stopping Ava from activating the Divinium bomb. For letting the fight go on so long that Mother Superion was knocking on death’s door when they returned.
For loving Ava so much that she didn’t regret a single part of it.
For hating herself so much that she couldn’t tell Ava any of it.
“It’s okay, Bea. I’ve got you.” Ava said softly, her strong fingers gently undoing the bun Beatrice had her hair in and then running through the messy locks. “We’re okay.”
It feels like an eternity before Beatrice gets herself under enough control to look up again and when she meets Ava’s eyes, she nearly starts crying again. Ava’s eyes are filled with understanding and promise and love and Beatrice knows that she doesn’t deserve any of it. She doesn’t deserve Ava, but god, that doesn’t stop her from wanting .
Ava steadies her as Beatrice climbs to her feet and she doesn’t say anything about Beatrice’s breakdown. Beatrice is glad for the silence, now that she’s let some of those overwhelming emotions out, she has the sudden realization that she had just spent at least ten minutes clinging to a very much naked Ava and crying into her stomach. Her embarrassment makes her stomach churn so much that she thinks she might be sick until Ava reaches for her, cupping her face with one hand while the other rests against her hip.
“Stop.” Ava orders her softly. “You didn’t do anything wrong and I don’t think any less of you for what just happened. You’re perfect.”
“I’m far from perfect, Ava.” Beatrice protests. Perfect people don’t sacrifice the whole world for one person. Perfect people don’t make a fool of themselves by letting their emotions get the better of them. Perfect people don’t keep themselves from admitting they’re in love because they still can’t believe that someone could love someone like them.
“You’re the best of us, Bea.” Ava says assuredly. She steps closer and Beatrice realizes that at some point, Ava must have pulled her combat habit off as well because she can feel Ava’s skin against her as they press closer together. “You’re the best of me.”
When Ava kisses her, Beatrice falls into the embrace. Ava’s arms are steady and sure around her. Her lips are soft and warm. She can feel Ava’s desire beating distinctly against her chest, can hear the ever so subtle hum of the halo beneath her skin. Beatrice lets herself put her hands on Ava’s body, caressing her sides and back though she won’t dare to explore any further. She feels Ava hum against her lips and she wants to stay in this moment for eternity.
But the moment doesn’t last near long enough and Ava pulls away to adjust the temperature of the shower before pulling Beatrice beneath the spray with her. The shower itself passes quickly, though it’s full of small touches and lingering glances and, after they’ve both washed the blood grime from their bodies, Beatrice pulls Ava into her arms and they stand beneath the water until it goes from hot to warm to cool.
Ava pulls them out before either of them start to shiver and wraps a towel around Beatrice and then herself before they make their way to the bedroom to get dressed. They linger for a while longer, waiting until the hear more than one set of footsteps go past their door before they begin to head down to the dining room.
“Hey, Bea?” Ava calls softly as Beatrice reaches for the doorknob. Beatrice turns to her expectantly. Ava steps closer and presses a kiss to Beatrice’s lips, lingering in her personal space to whisper against her lips. “I would have done the same, if it was you.”
Beatrice feels her shoulders slump in relief or acceptance, she can’t really tell, but decides that it doesn't matter. She still has Ava, alive and well and making Beatrice fall further and further in love with her by the second and for that reason alone, Beatrice decides that it was worth it.
She’s do anything to keep this feeling with Ava forever.