Chapter Text
It took Ava 173 days to come back into Beatrice life. 173 days of Beatrice grieving her, missing her, trying to let her go and failing miserably. 173 days since Beatrice had helplessly watched her disappear into another realm, severely wounded and barely conscious, a broken look in her eyes.
173 days, and Beatrice had counted every single one of them, silently hoping, praying, begging for the universe to bring Ava back to her. She might have lost faith in destiny, in the church, in God. But she still had faith in Ava.
And then she was suddenly standing there, beautiful, glowing, glorious, looking at Beatrice with wide, incredulous eyes. And the whole world seemed to stand still for one breathless moment, before it went on crashing and burning around them.
*************************************************************************
Beatrice had left the OCS on the third day of Ava’s disappearance.
She had tried to honour Ava’s wish for her to live her life. She had travelled the world, had been to countless place in many countries. Greece, France, Germany, Iceland, Chile, Egypt, China, Vietnam, India. But not Switzerland. Never Switzerland. It had been the first place that had crossed her mind when Ava was gone and she had been half-way there, when she realized she couldn’t go back. Not without Ava. Never without Ava. She had spent the happiest two months of her life there, sharing a life with the girl she had hopelessly fallen in love with. She wouldn’t and couldn’t taint these most treasured memories with the emptiness and pain she was feeling right now.
So she had thought of places she had always wanted to see. And places she knew Ava would have loved. She had tried to cherish every new memory, every new experience, every progress she made in finding some inner peace and closure, in feeling again without falling apart. It had been a painful and strenuous journey, but step by step she had moved forward from the empty shell she had been for days, weeks even, after Ava's departure.
The first moment of healing, had happened on day 23 after that fateful day. It had, ironically, been the first time she had cried since watching the arc close around Ava, leaving her all alone with these three words she so deeply felt falling from her lips just a moment too late. She hadn’t cried a single tear again until she had been sitting in the sand of a secluded, peaceful beach in Greece, watching the sunrise paint the sky and the sea in a warm, glowing, golden light. It had been beautiful and divine and overwhelming and when Beatrice had felt the warm caress of her own tears on her cheeks, she had not tried to hold them back or dry them. She had let them silently fall until there were no more tear to cry left in her anymore.
On day 29 she had screamed again for the first time since seeing Ava activate the divinium bomb inside Michael’s lifeless body, the resulting explosion brutally piercing every part of Ava’s body. She had walked all day long, in wind and rain, to a lonely cliff at the Atlantic coast of France, all on her own, with nothing but a light backpack. And when she was standing on the cliff, facing the wild sea, she had screamed at the top of her lungs until her voice was hoarse and her thoughts were silenced and her heart's aching was bareable again.
On day 72 she had danced again for the first time since Ava had spun her around on the dancefloor of their bar in Switzerland when they were both drunk, carefree, unafraid of the future. Tien, a backpacker she had met in Chile, had dragged her to a gay club. He had, at one point during the evening, gotten her to do shots with him until she had let the alcohol and music make hit the dance floor. She hadn't interacted with anyone but Tien, had blocked all advances of people - whether flirty or just friendly. But when she had woken up the next day, severely hung over, in her hostel room and had found a glass of water, some aspirin and a quick note of Tien telling her he was going to find them some breakfast, she knew she had somehow managed to make a new friend.
On day 90 she had said her name again for the first time since the moment Ava had broken down in her arms, weakened from thousands of divinium pieces stuck in her body.
She had been talking to Cam on the phone, updating her on her latest travel destination, a festival in India.
“How was it?”, Cam had asked.
“It was… a lot. Loud, chaotic, full of people.”, Beatrice had answered. She had taken a very deep breath. And then: “Ava would have loved it.”
There had been silence on the other end of the line for moment, before Camila had answered: "Yeah, that sounds like she would have loved to be there with you."
*******************************************************************
On day 173 there was another first. It was the first time she had set foot back into the headquarters of the OCS since she had left the order. She hadn’t told anyone she was back in the area, too scared that once she was there she wouldn’t be able to go through with it and face the painful memories she so desperately tried to escape. But here she was, after 170 days of trying to find out who she was without the OCS, walking into the empty courtyard of the convent, every step filling her with a delicate mix of a sense of familiarity, nostalgia and longing.
“Good morning, How can I help you?”, an unfamiliar voice greeted her.
She turned around to find a young woman, a bit younger than herself probably, dressed in the typical sister warrior habit. The woman’s voice was polite, but she was eyeing Beatrice with only thinly veiled scepticism and caution. It was strange to not know people in the place she once called her home. It was equally strange to not be known by them at all.
Beatrice nodded at the young nun. “Good morning. I am looking for Sister Camila. Is she here?”
The sister warrior raised an eyebrow at that. “I am sorry. She is currently out on a mission.”
Beatrice furrowed her brows. That was unexpected. With Adriel gone, the OCS was basically just a school of young nuns to be trained for some potential future threat, but without any current dangers to face. Beatrice was going to ask the young sister warrior what kind of mission Camila could be on, when they were interrupted by a group of sister warrior dressed in full battle uniform and heavily armed running towards them.
“Teresa, get the van ready. We just got a call. They need back-up.”, one of the sister warriors shouted. A second later Beatrice found herself standing alone within a chaos of young, clearly only half-trained sister warriors hurrying around. And Beatrice suddenly felt like someone activated her autopilot. Without thinking it through, Beatrice dropped her bags and followed them inside the van. Fight, not flight. That was where her instincts lay.
10 pairs of eyes stared at her confusedly.
“Listen, whoever you are, you cannot…”, one of the young nuns started, but didn’t get further.
“Beatrice?!” A familiar voice cut her off. All the young nuns immediately straightened their backs and stopped talking.
Beatrice turned around and immediately recognized the newcomer. “Sister Dora!”
Sister Dora stopped outside the van, quickly scanning the scene in front of her and clearly assessing the situation with a calm concentration and authority that impressed Beatrice.
“Sister Dora, this she just followed…”, the young nun from before started again. Sister Dora just quietened her with short, clear gesture, while eyeing Beatrice pensively. She was clearly in charge and in the process of making a decision. After a few seconds of locking eyes, she nodded and handed Beatrice a battle stick. “I assume you remember how to use this? We can use any help we get."
***************************************************************************
There were demons everywhere. Visible demons with glowing red eyes and fiery armours ruthlessly attacking and possessing everyone in the building the OCS had entered. Beatrice had no idea what was going on, while she was fighting her way through the rooms. Where did these demons come from? Why were there so many? How were they supposed to defeat them? They didn’t stand a chance!
She had just managed to find a Camila in the middle of some sort of ancient assembly hall full of demons. When Camila had seen her, the shock was evident on her face. That was not how either of them had imagined their reunion.
“Bea, what are you doing here?”, she had shouted. Beatrice had been about to fight her way over to Camila. But then, suddenly, a blazing, all-consuming light had appeared in the centre of the room, momentarily blinding her and forcing her to cover her eyes with her arm.
The first thing she could see when the light subsided and her eyes recovered from the prior sensory overload, was the sole woman standing where the light had been before. She stood with her back to Beatrice, wearing a full battle gear, looking casually ready and present and real like she hadn’t just appeared in a sphere of light out of nowhere in the middle of a brutal fight.
Beatrice’s heart started beating loudly in her chest. She knew who it was. Of course she knew. She had sensed her the minute she had seen the light, had felt her presence deep inside her core like an undeniable truth. And yet, only when the woman turned around and those familiar warm, brown eyes locked with hers across the room, Beatrice felt her heart's confused, but oh so relieved flutter.
She couldn’t move. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Couldn’t even start comprehending anything except for: Ava was here. She was here. She was alive. She was beautiful. She was here.
“Ava.”, Beatrice whispered. Ava was still staring at her like she was struck by lightning, frozen in place. The fight going on around her forgotten, Beatrice wanted to run towards her. But the second Beatrice started moving, Ava’s eyes filled with panic.
“Cam, get her out of here!” Ava’s scream was desperate, feral, scared. And before Beatrice could even start processing what was happening, she felt a sharp pain in her neck and two arms grabbing her to keep her from falling. The tranquilizer hit her with a force, making everything around her blur. The last thing she saw, before she lost consciousness, was a blinding, pulsating light.