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Location: Infirmary - Pacific Royal Campus
Take On Me #3.050: Blue
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“Stay with Aurora,” Cass ordered Ripley, “And shoot me a text when that ‘doctor’ leaves Lorcán,” He added before rushing away without an explanation.
Aurora watched as the blonde boy hurried down the hallway and disappeared, clearly heading somewhere specific, a man on a mission. She realized that he likely knew something that she didn’t, which was more unsettling than anything else, and made her anxious. She reached up to fiddle with her necklace nervously and glanced down at the younger girl standing next to her, taking a shaky breath.
“Hey, Rippers, I’m uh, going to go for a walk…” She conveyed honestly, sounding distant, “Can you keep watch until I get back?”
“I uh, don’t want-” Ripley began to say before looking at Aurora’s expression, “Forget I said anything, I’ve got this.” She replied, stifling a sniffle before nodding vigorously.
The redhead snapped out of her momentary daze as she heard Ripley’s uncertain reply, kneeling down to the brunette’s level and mustering a sad smile and facade, tucking a strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear.
“I know this is scary, Ripley, but you are so brave and Lorcán needs all of us right now to be strong.” She extended her little finger towards the girl, trying to listen to her own words and not be hypocritical, “I pinky promise I’ll come right back.”
“I mean, if you pinky promise,” Ripley squirmed before rushing forward and wrapping her finger around Aurora’s extended one. She gave the older girl a quick hug before pulling back.
“I’ll be right here waiting,” She smiled sadly.
Aurora nodded at her before standing up and making her way down the hallway, aiming for the Infirmary Gardens. She needed a reprieve, even if it was momentary, still processing everything that Jonas had said, plus the added weight of Cass and Ripley’s findings. She turned down another hallway, and was about to head for the double door exit but a man standing outside of a patient room caught her eye. He seemed out of place, screamed force and chaos in an environment meant to promote healing and sanctuary. Walking past, she stopped suddenly as she beheld the lithe figure behind the glass with raven hair and tattooed skin.
She knew that Amma had been taken away after the trial, but she didn’t realize that she was being kept here in the Infirmary. Aurora’s body seemed to hum, the memory of her unbridled power coursing through her veins during the trial, their short lived moment of partnership coming to the forefront of her mind. With everything else she was grappling with, she hadn’t given the girl any additional thought, never thanked her or wondered how she was handling everything, which in itself was a wrong she needed to right. She looked to the guard, gesturing to the room.
“I’m one of her teammates, from Blackjack. May I…?”
He contemplated for a moment, determining if he would allow such a visit, before stepping aside with a nod and permitting her to enter. Twisting the knob gingerly, Aurora walked into the room with an abundance of caution, clearing her throat to seemingly announce her presence.
“Hi, Amma.”
Having only just returned to her room perhaps an hour ago, Amma was not anticipating visitors or even entertaining the notion of speaking with anyone; for her waking world had been devoid of lingering nightmares or hardly contained rage in the following days since she had been sleeping in Gil’s room for the last couple of nights.
Now her body bristled in recognition, spine gone taut, posture drawn back as her hand clutched around her mobile phone, noting the many notifications gone unanswered, and met the sky blue eyes of Aurora. Her visage was usually one of beckoning dawn with her halo of copper hair spun through with gold, but a haunted look bloomed over her features, wariness weighted upon her shoulders and a certain air that bespoke of her sorrows. All of these were magnified by the bruise that faded out into pale edges upon her temple and brow.
“Hello… Aurora.” She carefully set her phone aside, arms crossed with the fabric of her white tee-shirt scooped around her scar, fingers clasped over each arm currently concealed with a nondescript black jacket to cover her fresh bandages.
“What…” She paused, head tilting down curiously as she studied her, lashes sweeping high and low. “I’ll admit. I’m surprised to see you here. So, I’ll simply ask why you’re here.”
“I, uh,” Aurora hesitated, struggling to find the words as Amma examined her keenly, feeling exposed in her current state both emotionally and physically. The redhead similarly beheld the raven haired girl’s demeanor and body language, how she seemed to straighten and retract from her, the scars that littered her visible skin and likely trailed underneath her coverings, her dark circles and sullen expression. The trial had certainly gotten the better of them both, their wounds only secondary to what she knew lay beneath the skin.
“I was walking past, on my way from Lorcán’s room.” She paused, realizing that she wasn’t sure if Amma was aware of what had happened to him. Cass said he told Blackjack, and Rory reached out to the team via text, but it was better not to assume. “He, uh, got attacked the other day in the Northern Forest, if you didn’t know,” Aurora exhaled shakily, pain evident in her voice, “He has some type of infection but they don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“But I saw you were in here, and wanted to thank you. For what you did during the trial.” She took a step towards where she was sitting, approaching the girl warily, “We would have been dead if it weren’t for the power you gave me, and I know that it came at your detriment.”
Amma pauses, fingers clenched and balled into fists, nails spearing into the bedsheets where sudden swells of red arise, coiling through her rigid gestures, and when Aurora takes a step towards her, she flashes her eyes suddenly aglow in silver and blue, marking her where she stood. The world quaked at her toiling influence, heightened by the sudden breadths of empathy for what Aurora must’ve felt for Lorcán at that moment. For what she is uncertain she is feeling in that split second the information is spared and she can hardly navigate those emotions that strike at her heart.
“I know… I guess, I just didn’t realize how severe it was.” She breathes, arms trembling with the grip, her words understating his condition's severity.
She doesn’t want to talk about the trials, she couldn’t even confess such to Gil the first night or any other night, and she certainly doesn’t want to relive the hopelessness she felt in the last moments when she had given the lasting remainders of her power to them- so that they may yet live as she was dragged into Hell.
“As I told Haven… If I had made it out alone, it would’ve looked suspicious. Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter.” Amma carelessly lifted her palm, gesturing towards her room, marking the damage to the floors and walls, the ceiling that too bore her wrath. “Still in solitary for another day or two…”
“What-” She exhales with a sigh. “Do they know what attacked him?” It’s the first she has been made aware outside of the simple texts that had been given as of late.
Aurora noticed how Amma tensed, how she seemed to shake with a fervor reminiscent of her own. It was unexpected to see her have that type of reaction, similar to hers but also different in tone. Where the redhead’s woes manifested in anguish, tears and cries, the raven haired girl radiated anger and tenacity. But where they were alike was in the pain they both felt.
Her eyes darted around the room as Amma waved her hand, only then coming to notice the marks and destruction that marred her surroundings. Aurora would have previously been wary, alarmed, but instead she simply felt numb and unbothered, all of her energy and fear were dedicated elsewhere. Swallowing, the redhead took another step closer, testing the waters although she knew her first move towards the bed had been met with distrust.
“They don’t, unfortunately.” She replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she seemed to hug herself, hide herself. “The medics seem to think that whatever it was is not of this world, as crazy as that sounds.” The girl inclined her head to Amma, “They’re doing what they can, but,” She sniffed, trying to hold back the sadness that threatened to overtake her like a tidal wave, and spoke softly.
“It’s not looking very good right now.”
“There are many inexplicable things of this world that do not belong,” Amma mutters quietly, eyes gone far off and distant, dissociated from the unfamiliar emotions she had been victim to as of late. Unable to define the irregularity of her pulse and waspish rage that made her want to lash out, her entire body rigid and unyielding, feathering pearls of red and silver dotting the frame of her lashes, clinging to her visage that struggled to don the barrier of the creature that did not care.
“The monsters are very much real.”
Amma feels her moving closer, drawn to her sorrows, and hears the tears threatening to fall upon the delicate misery of her voice- she’s surely about to break, crumble in within the void of her heartache- and she hates her for it. Bound in the chains of her past, bound in the barbed wires of her rage and pain, unable to personify her feelings so carelessly; so easily. Mend, instead of sunder, she thinks. But how?
“Your tears won’t save him,” she whispers. “If he is to die soon then why aren’t you there now? What’s the point of coming here to thank me?”
The raven haired girl's words never ceased to send shivers up Aurora’s spine, it was in her tone, her departed gaze as she spoke. She was haunted by unseen demons, her life clouded by the shadow of a burden that was challenging to describe. Having felt her power before, it was this she knew to be true, and she was unsure if she could ever put into words the weight that bore heavy on her heart for knowing and understanding that discomfort.
This time she was the one who bristled, the directness cutting like a knife, her question striking her heart instantly. The redhead already knew that things were grim and there was nothing to be done, and yet her words still stung as if salt were poured on the open wound. What was the point? Her sadness quickly morphed into defensiveness, a bite in her following words that wasn’t there previously.
“Because you showed me a kindness I didn’t believe you to possess, and I was wrong for assuming you to be anything but,” Her brow furrowed, “It was because of you that I am able to be here with him now,” Aurora elaborated further, “It’s also because of you that he was able to find me. Not only did you lend your power to me, but also to him, and for that I am grateful.”
“I’m well aware my tears won’t save him, but it hurts when you might lose someone that you love.”
The words came out before she could stop them and she bit her tongue hard, the tang of her own blood dancing across her teeth.
“Kindness? Love?” Such bitterly stated words fell from her gnashing teeth, bone slid against the pout of her lip, tongue bathed in the fated red that filled her mouth on a shattering laugh that struggled beyond her aching ribs. “Is that what it looks like? That dejected and hopeless look in your eyes.” Amma stood up from her bed, thick lines of black and red spooled across her sheets, left in her wake as she approached Aurora.
“That haunted and drawn exhaustion I see in your face.” She breathed deep, a shuddering breath that eclipsed her reasonings, witnessing all that she was true for, the admission that filled the depths of her room and refused to abate now that they had been spoken aloud. “What is love then, if not the most painful thing I see in you, the most painful thing I saw in her.”
Aurora didn’t falter as Amma stepped closer, they were a similar height even if one had a gaze of stars and the other of stone, but nonetheless at each other's level. The French girl’s words rang of disgust and distaste, and that lit a fire in the redhead that did not get a rise often. How dare she take her woes and twist them so, take a beautiful thing and morph it into something so ugly and undesirable. As much as it hurt her to feel this way, to feel anything at all, she wouldn’t change a thing.
She did not know who this her was that she spoke of, and yet, she did not care. For if Amma had known love at one point in her life, evidenced by the venom in her voice, she should understand where Aurora was coming from.
“Emotion is not weakness, Amma, so much as you may think that it is.” She stated strongly, trying to maintain her composure. “It may hurt, but I still feel fortunate that I have someone that I care this much about, someone who makes me feel,”
“I’m sorry that you don’t.”
“Because they’re all dead.” A statement, a confession, one laced to the brim with vehemence, an unbridled fervor inspired by the words flung at her, gilded in flame like her hair and meant to scorch her with shame. But Amma only felt longing, a deeply seeded yearning that spiraled into hunger, that craved something she could not name.
“You don’t know how I feel.” Even she did not know, but she would not spare Aurora those whispers, could not for all the world that quaked at her mercy, for all the woe and pain that cantered through her life in crimson maladies and song. “The emotions that come from this- with this.” The HZEs within and without fled her palms, coiling betwixt her scarred fingers liken to snakes that spun around her wrists.
“That has cost me everything.” Amma breathes, fingers curling into her palms to snuff out the manifest of her powers, the weight of her heart suddenly burdened by a weariness she could not place. She tells herself she does not care, she tells herself this over and over, and over again. She paid the price once, she would not - could not - do it again.
“You sure about that?” The redhead challenged, her facial expression tense, lips drawn in a thin line and brow raised as she went toe to toe with the raven haired girl. Something about her current situation, the rage that she felt towards whatever had attacked Lorcán was finding its outlet now. “Not that I owe you an explanation, but you’re not the only one that’s experienced loss,”
“My powers have also cost me,” She spoke freely, unafraid and brazen as she raised her chin in quiet defiance, “They may not be destructive in the way that yours are, but they destroyed my life as I knew it.” Aurora exhaled shakily, eyes misty and heartbeat thundering in her ears as she chose to share a piece of herself with the girl, one that not many others knew, her own weight that she carried day in and day out.
“My mother had to give me up because of my abilities. My stepfather would have killed me had he found out what I possessed, what I could do,” Her voice cracked, betraying the intensity in which she spoke, a single tear rolling down her cheek even though she tried to hold it back, “The only person who ever loved me abandoned me. She could be dead for all I know, I have no clue where she is now.”
“So don’t stand there and tell me that I don’t know how you feel.”
“You’re right,” Amma rejoined with a snap of anger awash over her teeth edging into a feral smile, drawn up straight, meeting Aurora eye for eye; the sky blue of her stare the herald of a righteous figure donned in the light of love, alight in anger and defiance to the void that swirled into her own depths, the storm striking upon the fringes of her control. “You don’t owe me an explanation, just as I owe you none.”
“But you know then what it feels like, to be abandoned for all that you are. For all that you could be. Abandoned because they are afraid of what you can do. You’re just like me.”
We are monsters.
Afraid of you. Afraid of me.
“Not once, but twice. Locked away in the dark because they couldn’t control the beast any more. Given all the power in the world; made into what you fear the most. And they use you for it until it turns to ash and death in your hands. Until you no longer know where she begins, and you end." Amma watches her tears, the one of solidarity bidden to her touch where she reaches up, ghosts her fingers over Aurora’s delicate features and catches it there upon the rise of her scars, the fissure in her voice reflecting the fissure lain within her soul.
“To be so loved and wanted, to be able to cry so freely.” Amma withdraws her hand, the pads of her fingers swept over the healing bruise, a small coil of her power tracing down the line of her cheek as exhaustion once more found way to her body, sunk down deep into her bones, a terrible buzzing once more clamoring betwixt her ears.
“Take that anger and use it to find out what happened to him, Aurora. Be there for him for me – For I – “ Amma laughed, a delicate sound that betrayed the depths of her words. “Be there for those of us that cannot.”
Amma’s hostility was palpable, her cold and harsh words that detailed her misfortunes jarring, and yet her gestures were not such, her motion tender and fluid as she reached up towards Aurora’s face. And as she met that single tear, the redhead’s breath hitched, shocked by her gentleness amongst the chaos her powers wreathed. That ghost of a touch, and the words that accompanied it felt foreign coming from her lips, such a departure from prior words of suffering.
She was right, they weren’t all that different.
After all, they wanted the same thing.
Aurora simply nodded, a silent acknowledgement to her statement, words steeped in raw envy. She took a step backwards, creating distance from the raven haired girl, but not before uttering words that she thought she needed to hear.
“There are good people out there, you know. Ones who don’t abandon and aren’t afraid. It took me a while to find them, to find him,” The redhead felt another tear trail down her skin, unashamed of the sadness that bloomed in her heart for it was her greatest strength, “But he was worth the wait,”
“I know you'll be able to find that too.”
Amma doesn’t say anything, for she no longer had the words to spare, instead she allowed Aurora to step back, where she mimicked her retreat and too furthered the distance between them. A creature of light, and one of dark, both that had been cruelly undone by the world, for all that this universe owed to them, and for all that it took in retribution for powers undone. She curls both arms over her middle and gazes out from the small window her room is afforded, and in the light of the late afternoon that slants through the pane she says:
“The monsters are not supposed to win. The monsters are meant to be killed. To die.”
“But until that day comes, I’ll face the world for this role I have to play. For everything that I’ve done. And if someone is waiting for me there in the end… Well.” Amma simply laughs. “You’ll face it too.”
Aurora’s eyes glanced over to the pane, the golden rays casting dark shadows on the ground, and it was then that she realized that Amma was no more free here than she was while in the clutches of the Foundation. Her laugh, that wicked laugh, tore through her flesh and singed like flames, but it wasn’t fear that it triggered.
It was sympathy.
There were many things she wanted to say, but the redhead turned on her heel, knowing that the girl would rather perish than to entertain her pity, and headed for the door. Before she twisted the knob and exited to sit by her love’s bedside, she returned her gaze to Amma.
“For what it’s worth,” She paused, noticing her irises were the same shade of blue as hers. “I don’t think you’re a monster, Amma.”
Amma simply held her gaze; a mirror, a window, a girl who was known as beloved, a girl who could express all the things that she could not. A girl who mended, rather than sundered, a girl who suffered and was all the more beautiful for it because of what she found within her heart- the strength to love.
You accepted the script before you even read it. The only part you need play is the one you write for yourself.
For the first time in what felt like years, maybe even longer than that, Amma simply nodded in quiet acceptance as Aurora made to leave her room, watching her return to where she knew she could not- no matter how badly she wanted to.
“You’re wrong. But, thank you, Aurora.”
Aurora watched as the blonde boy hurried down the hallway and disappeared, clearly heading somewhere specific, a man on a mission. She realized that he likely knew something that she didn’t, which was more unsettling than anything else, and made her anxious. She reached up to fiddle with her necklace nervously and glanced down at the younger girl standing next to her, taking a shaky breath.
“Hey, Rippers, I’m uh, going to go for a walk…” She conveyed honestly, sounding distant, “Can you keep watch until I get back?”
“I uh, don’t want-” Ripley began to say before looking at Aurora’s expression, “Forget I said anything, I’ve got this.” She replied, stifling a sniffle before nodding vigorously.
The redhead snapped out of her momentary daze as she heard Ripley’s uncertain reply, kneeling down to the brunette’s level and mustering a sad smile and facade, tucking a strand of the girl’s hair behind her ear.
“I know this is scary, Ripley, but you are so brave and Lorcán needs all of us right now to be strong.” She extended her little finger towards the girl, trying to listen to her own words and not be hypocritical, “I pinky promise I’ll come right back.”
“I mean, if you pinky promise,” Ripley squirmed before rushing forward and wrapping her finger around Aurora’s extended one. She gave the older girl a quick hug before pulling back.
“I’ll be right here waiting,” She smiled sadly.
Aurora nodded at her before standing up and making her way down the hallway, aiming for the Infirmary Gardens. She needed a reprieve, even if it was momentary, still processing everything that Jonas had said, plus the added weight of Cass and Ripley’s findings. She turned down another hallway, and was about to head for the double door exit but a man standing outside of a patient room caught her eye. He seemed out of place, screamed force and chaos in an environment meant to promote healing and sanctuary. Walking past, she stopped suddenly as she beheld the lithe figure behind the glass with raven hair and tattooed skin.
She knew that Amma had been taken away after the trial, but she didn’t realize that she was being kept here in the Infirmary. Aurora’s body seemed to hum, the memory of her unbridled power coursing through her veins during the trial, their short lived moment of partnership coming to the forefront of her mind. With everything else she was grappling with, she hadn’t given the girl any additional thought, never thanked her or wondered how she was handling everything, which in itself was a wrong she needed to right. She looked to the guard, gesturing to the room.
“I’m one of her teammates, from Blackjack. May I…?”
He contemplated for a moment, determining if he would allow such a visit, before stepping aside with a nod and permitting her to enter. Twisting the knob gingerly, Aurora walked into the room with an abundance of caution, clearing her throat to seemingly announce her presence.
“Hi, Amma.”
Having only just returned to her room perhaps an hour ago, Amma was not anticipating visitors or even entertaining the notion of speaking with anyone; for her waking world had been devoid of lingering nightmares or hardly contained rage in the following days since she had been sleeping in Gil’s room for the last couple of nights.
Now her body bristled in recognition, spine gone taut, posture drawn back as her hand clutched around her mobile phone, noting the many notifications gone unanswered, and met the sky blue eyes of Aurora. Her visage was usually one of beckoning dawn with her halo of copper hair spun through with gold, but a haunted look bloomed over her features, wariness weighted upon her shoulders and a certain air that bespoke of her sorrows. All of these were magnified by the bruise that faded out into pale edges upon her temple and brow.
“Hello… Aurora.” She carefully set her phone aside, arms crossed with the fabric of her white tee-shirt scooped around her scar, fingers clasped over each arm currently concealed with a nondescript black jacket to cover her fresh bandages.
“What…” She paused, head tilting down curiously as she studied her, lashes sweeping high and low. “I’ll admit. I’m surprised to see you here. So, I’ll simply ask why you’re here.”
“I, uh,” Aurora hesitated, struggling to find the words as Amma examined her keenly, feeling exposed in her current state both emotionally and physically. The redhead similarly beheld the raven haired girl’s demeanor and body language, how she seemed to straighten and retract from her, the scars that littered her visible skin and likely trailed underneath her coverings, her dark circles and sullen expression. The trial had certainly gotten the better of them both, their wounds only secondary to what she knew lay beneath the skin.
“I was walking past, on my way from Lorcán’s room.” She paused, realizing that she wasn’t sure if Amma was aware of what had happened to him. Cass said he told Blackjack, and Rory reached out to the team via text, but it was better not to assume. “He, uh, got attacked the other day in the Northern Forest, if you didn’t know,” Aurora exhaled shakily, pain evident in her voice, “He has some type of infection but they don’t know what’s wrong with him.”
“But I saw you were in here, and wanted to thank you. For what you did during the trial.” She took a step towards where she was sitting, approaching the girl warily, “We would have been dead if it weren’t for the power you gave me, and I know that it came at your detriment.”
Amma pauses, fingers clenched and balled into fists, nails spearing into the bedsheets where sudden swells of red arise, coiling through her rigid gestures, and when Aurora takes a step towards her, she flashes her eyes suddenly aglow in silver and blue, marking her where she stood. The world quaked at her toiling influence, heightened by the sudden breadths of empathy for what Aurora must’ve felt for Lorcán at that moment. For what she is uncertain she is feeling in that split second the information is spared and she can hardly navigate those emotions that strike at her heart.
“I know… I guess, I just didn’t realize how severe it was.” She breathes, arms trembling with the grip, her words understating his condition's severity.
She doesn’t want to talk about the trials, she couldn’t even confess such to Gil the first night or any other night, and she certainly doesn’t want to relive the hopelessness she felt in the last moments when she had given the lasting remainders of her power to them- so that they may yet live as she was dragged into Hell.
“As I told Haven… If I had made it out alone, it would’ve looked suspicious. Though, I suppose that doesn’t matter.” Amma carelessly lifted her palm, gesturing towards her room, marking the damage to the floors and walls, the ceiling that too bore her wrath. “Still in solitary for another day or two…”
“What-” She exhales with a sigh. “Do they know what attacked him?” It’s the first she has been made aware outside of the simple texts that had been given as of late.
Aurora noticed how Amma tensed, how she seemed to shake with a fervor reminiscent of her own. It was unexpected to see her have that type of reaction, similar to hers but also different in tone. Where the redhead’s woes manifested in anguish, tears and cries, the raven haired girl radiated anger and tenacity. But where they were alike was in the pain they both felt.
Her eyes darted around the room as Amma waved her hand, only then coming to notice the marks and destruction that marred her surroundings. Aurora would have previously been wary, alarmed, but instead she simply felt numb and unbothered, all of her energy and fear were dedicated elsewhere. Swallowing, the redhead took another step closer, testing the waters although she knew her first move towards the bed had been met with distrust.
“They don’t, unfortunately.” She replied, crossing her arms over her chest as she seemed to hug herself, hide herself. “The medics seem to think that whatever it was is not of this world, as crazy as that sounds.” The girl inclined her head to Amma, “They’re doing what they can, but,” She sniffed, trying to hold back the sadness that threatened to overtake her like a tidal wave, and spoke softly.
“It’s not looking very good right now.”
“There are many inexplicable things of this world that do not belong,” Amma mutters quietly, eyes gone far off and distant, dissociated from the unfamiliar emotions she had been victim to as of late. Unable to define the irregularity of her pulse and waspish rage that made her want to lash out, her entire body rigid and unyielding, feathering pearls of red and silver dotting the frame of her lashes, clinging to her visage that struggled to don the barrier of the creature that did not care.
“The monsters are very much real.”
Amma feels her moving closer, drawn to her sorrows, and hears the tears threatening to fall upon the delicate misery of her voice- she’s surely about to break, crumble in within the void of her heartache- and she hates her for it. Bound in the chains of her past, bound in the barbed wires of her rage and pain, unable to personify her feelings so carelessly; so easily. Mend, instead of sunder, she thinks. But how?
“Your tears won’t save him,” she whispers. “If he is to die soon then why aren’t you there now? What’s the point of coming here to thank me?”
The raven haired girl's words never ceased to send shivers up Aurora’s spine, it was in her tone, her departed gaze as she spoke. She was haunted by unseen demons, her life clouded by the shadow of a burden that was challenging to describe. Having felt her power before, it was this she knew to be true, and she was unsure if she could ever put into words the weight that bore heavy on her heart for knowing and understanding that discomfort.
This time she was the one who bristled, the directness cutting like a knife, her question striking her heart instantly. The redhead already knew that things were grim and there was nothing to be done, and yet her words still stung as if salt were poured on the open wound. What was the point? Her sadness quickly morphed into defensiveness, a bite in her following words that wasn’t there previously.
“Because you showed me a kindness I didn’t believe you to possess, and I was wrong for assuming you to be anything but,” Her brow furrowed, “It was because of you that I am able to be here with him now,” Aurora elaborated further, “It’s also because of you that he was able to find me. Not only did you lend your power to me, but also to him, and for that I am grateful.”
“I’m well aware my tears won’t save him, but it hurts when you might lose someone that you love.”
The words came out before she could stop them and she bit her tongue hard, the tang of her own blood dancing across her teeth.
“Kindness? Love?” Such bitterly stated words fell from her gnashing teeth, bone slid against the pout of her lip, tongue bathed in the fated red that filled her mouth on a shattering laugh that struggled beyond her aching ribs. “Is that what it looks like? That dejected and hopeless look in your eyes.” Amma stood up from her bed, thick lines of black and red spooled across her sheets, left in her wake as she approached Aurora.
“That haunted and drawn exhaustion I see in your face.” She breathed deep, a shuddering breath that eclipsed her reasonings, witnessing all that she was true for, the admission that filled the depths of her room and refused to abate now that they had been spoken aloud. “What is love then, if not the most painful thing I see in you, the most painful thing I saw in her.”
Aurora didn’t falter as Amma stepped closer, they were a similar height even if one had a gaze of stars and the other of stone, but nonetheless at each other's level. The French girl’s words rang of disgust and distaste, and that lit a fire in the redhead that did not get a rise often. How dare she take her woes and twist them so, take a beautiful thing and morph it into something so ugly and undesirable. As much as it hurt her to feel this way, to feel anything at all, she wouldn’t change a thing.
She did not know who this her was that she spoke of, and yet, she did not care. For if Amma had known love at one point in her life, evidenced by the venom in her voice, she should understand where Aurora was coming from.
“Emotion is not weakness, Amma, so much as you may think that it is.” She stated strongly, trying to maintain her composure. “It may hurt, but I still feel fortunate that I have someone that I care this much about, someone who makes me feel,”
“I’m sorry that you don’t.”
“Because they’re all dead.” A statement, a confession, one laced to the brim with vehemence, an unbridled fervor inspired by the words flung at her, gilded in flame like her hair and meant to scorch her with shame. But Amma only felt longing, a deeply seeded yearning that spiraled into hunger, that craved something she could not name.
“You don’t know how I feel.” Even she did not know, but she would not spare Aurora those whispers, could not for all the world that quaked at her mercy, for all the woe and pain that cantered through her life in crimson maladies and song. “The emotions that come from this- with this.” The HZEs within and without fled her palms, coiling betwixt her scarred fingers liken to snakes that spun around her wrists.
“That has cost me everything.” Amma breathes, fingers curling into her palms to snuff out the manifest of her powers, the weight of her heart suddenly burdened by a weariness she could not place. She tells herself she does not care, she tells herself this over and over, and over again. She paid the price once, she would not - could not - do it again.
“You sure about that?” The redhead challenged, her facial expression tense, lips drawn in a thin line and brow raised as she went toe to toe with the raven haired girl. Something about her current situation, the rage that she felt towards whatever had attacked Lorcán was finding its outlet now. “Not that I owe you an explanation, but you’re not the only one that’s experienced loss,”
“My powers have also cost me,” She spoke freely, unafraid and brazen as she raised her chin in quiet defiance, “They may not be destructive in the way that yours are, but they destroyed my life as I knew it.” Aurora exhaled shakily, eyes misty and heartbeat thundering in her ears as she chose to share a piece of herself with the girl, one that not many others knew, her own weight that she carried day in and day out.
“My mother had to give me up because of my abilities. My stepfather would have killed me had he found out what I possessed, what I could do,” Her voice cracked, betraying the intensity in which she spoke, a single tear rolling down her cheek even though she tried to hold it back, “The only person who ever loved me abandoned me. She could be dead for all I know, I have no clue where she is now.”
“So don’t stand there and tell me that I don’t know how you feel.”
“You’re right,” Amma rejoined with a snap of anger awash over her teeth edging into a feral smile, drawn up straight, meeting Aurora eye for eye; the sky blue of her stare the herald of a righteous figure donned in the light of love, alight in anger and defiance to the void that swirled into her own depths, the storm striking upon the fringes of her control. “You don’t owe me an explanation, just as I owe you none.”
“But you know then what it feels like, to be abandoned for all that you are. For all that you could be. Abandoned because they are afraid of what you can do. You’re just like me.”
We are monsters.
Afraid of you. Afraid of me.
“Not once, but twice. Locked away in the dark because they couldn’t control the beast any more. Given all the power in the world; made into what you fear the most. And they use you for it until it turns to ash and death in your hands. Until you no longer know where she begins, and you end." Amma watches her tears, the one of solidarity bidden to her touch where she reaches up, ghosts her fingers over Aurora’s delicate features and catches it there upon the rise of her scars, the fissure in her voice reflecting the fissure lain within her soul.
“To be so loved and wanted, to be able to cry so freely.” Amma withdraws her hand, the pads of her fingers swept over the healing bruise, a small coil of her power tracing down the line of her cheek as exhaustion once more found way to her body, sunk down deep into her bones, a terrible buzzing once more clamoring betwixt her ears.
“Take that anger and use it to find out what happened to him, Aurora. Be there for him for me – For I – “ Amma laughed, a delicate sound that betrayed the depths of her words. “Be there for those of us that cannot.”
Amma’s hostility was palpable, her cold and harsh words that detailed her misfortunes jarring, and yet her gestures were not such, her motion tender and fluid as she reached up towards Aurora’s face. And as she met that single tear, the redhead’s breath hitched, shocked by her gentleness amongst the chaos her powers wreathed. That ghost of a touch, and the words that accompanied it felt foreign coming from her lips, such a departure from prior words of suffering.
She was right, they weren’t all that different.
After all, they wanted the same thing.
Aurora simply nodded, a silent acknowledgement to her statement, words steeped in raw envy. She took a step backwards, creating distance from the raven haired girl, but not before uttering words that she thought she needed to hear.
“There are good people out there, you know. Ones who don’t abandon and aren’t afraid. It took me a while to find them, to find him,” The redhead felt another tear trail down her skin, unashamed of the sadness that bloomed in her heart for it was her greatest strength, “But he was worth the wait,”
“I know you'll be able to find that too.”
Amma doesn’t say anything, for she no longer had the words to spare, instead she allowed Aurora to step back, where she mimicked her retreat and too furthered the distance between them. A creature of light, and one of dark, both that had been cruelly undone by the world, for all that this universe owed to them, and for all that it took in retribution for powers undone. She curls both arms over her middle and gazes out from the small window her room is afforded, and in the light of the late afternoon that slants through the pane she says:
“The monsters are not supposed to win. The monsters are meant to be killed. To die.”
“But until that day comes, I’ll face the world for this role I have to play. For everything that I’ve done. And if someone is waiting for me there in the end… Well.” Amma simply laughs. “You’ll face it too.”
Aurora’s eyes glanced over to the pane, the golden rays casting dark shadows on the ground, and it was then that she realized that Amma was no more free here than she was while in the clutches of the Foundation. Her laugh, that wicked laugh, tore through her flesh and singed like flames, but it wasn’t fear that it triggered.
It was sympathy.
There were many things she wanted to say, but the redhead turned on her heel, knowing that the girl would rather perish than to entertain her pity, and headed for the door. Before she twisted the knob and exited to sit by her love’s bedside, she returned her gaze to Amma.
“For what it’s worth,” She paused, noticing her irises were the same shade of blue as hers. “I don’t think you’re a monster, Amma.”
Amma simply held her gaze; a mirror, a window, a girl who was known as beloved, a girl who could express all the things that she could not. A girl who mended, rather than sundered, a girl who suffered and was all the more beautiful for it because of what she found within her heart- the strength to love.
You accepted the script before you even read it. The only part you need play is the one you write for yourself.
For the first time in what felt like years, maybe even longer than that, Amma simply nodded in quiet acceptance as Aurora made to leave her room, watching her return to where she knew she could not- no matter how badly she wanted to.
“You’re wrong. But, thank you, Aurora.”