Morgana opened her eyes, to find the sun flooding into the room, the vision of Scott adjusting his cuff links.
she frowned. "How-"
"It's almost like I'm a terrible person," he remarked suddenly, buttoning his top button, "With power and money, influence, white privilege and a very dubious moral compass."
He smiled. "In other words: welcome home, Morgana."
Morgana just smiled bitterly, looking at the floor. So he was going to make her go there.
"You want me to the bad guy," she murmured. "Fine. I'm the bad guy."
"What was that?" He asked, kneeling down in front of her.
He gripped her chin gently, raising her eyes to his. She looked especially tired.
Morgana met his eyes dully. He looked away quickly.
"Don't look so hopeless. We were happy before. We'll be happy again. It's just a matter of time," he insisted.
"Am I supposed to be Captive in my own home," she asked.
He glanced back at her. "Not captive. I just want you to rethink. Not to mention, you can't just take the children-my children and leave."
She scoffed. "Your children? You spend so little time with those children. That I lied to you about your newborns sex...and you believed me. What children? They're just pawns to you."
He clenched his jaw. "They're not...they're not pawns. Just relax Morgana. If you leave, you'll have to do everything alone. Why would you want to be alone?"
She said nothing, a certain kind of acceptance flowing through her.
"You signed the papers," he whispered. "You agreed to marry me. I didn't force you. Till death do us part."
He tied his tie around his neck. "And I don't see that changing any time soon."
She leaned back, before erupting in laughter. His fingers froze, a chill settling down his spine.
She closed her eyes, her remaining laughter fizzling out with a sigh, the silence settling over them harshly.
"So this is your choice. Take away my freedom. For your selfish image. So you can pretend you have a family. Use the power and influence that I helped you get-" she smiled. "To shackle me like some kind of...some kind of slave whore for you pleasure?"
"Now you know it's not like that," he hissed, whipping around to face her. She stared back him.
"What is it like? Tell me what it's like then, Scott? Explain to me what it's like?"
He shook his head. "You just need to come to your senses, Ana. You'll see. This will all work out. I know it will."
Ana sighed. "And let me guess, you're leaving now. To go into surgery."
He looked away. "It's...an emergency."
She nodded with a small smile. "Right."
• • •
Scott started at the body cavity. He blinked. What was he doing here?
"Dr. Collins?"
His head snapped up. Emergency surgery. Right. Resection. What the hell was he doing?!
Why had he left? Surely someone else could've taken his place? Why hadn't he thought this through? He could've done...
"I should've let her run away, and manipulated her into returning on her own," he said. "Why didn't I do that?"
"I'm sorry, Dr. Collins?"
He shook his head. That's what he would've done. This was a rash decision, stealing into the middle of the night.
And if he had thought about it for even a moment he would've done such a stupid thing.
What happened to him?
Right. He'd acted out of...whatever. Rashly. He'd acted rashly. And then he'd left. He needed to take the child. He needed to get the child so he could insure she wouldn't leave-
"I have to go," he set his instrument down, running out of the OR, getting out of his scrubs. Hadn't he remembered? What Ana did when she was threatened?
Why hasn't he remembered? It'd been so long. Since the kids really, since he'd encountered that side of her.
That ruthless side of her.
He drove him as fast as he could, sprinting into the house. He slammed the door open, going upstairs.
There she was. Balcony door open, her hair blowing softly in the breeze, her robe flowing, tears of blood streaming down her face.
She smiled as he froze. "Stop. Stop. Hey, Ana?"
She walked closer to the balcony, cocking her head. "Ana, your face."
"I know. I used to be beautiful."
"No. No your tears Ana. They have blood in them. That means you have a tumor. Let me take you to the hospital."
She frowned, stepping outside, he followed her carefully.
"Once we get the tumor removed, everything will go back to normal," he insisted. "It could be a tumor or a infection, but it's making you crazy, Ana."
She smiled. "You're making me crazy. It suddenly occurred to me today, that I don't have to be here."
"No Ana. You do. You have to," he pleaded. She turned away from him, touching the railing of the balcony.
"No...I really don't. I kept thinking, I have to live for the children. But...I don't have to do that either. I don't have to do anything. I don't have to be a Mother. I don't have to be your wife-"
"Do you hear yourself?" He scoffed, his heart racing. "You love our children. They need you."
"No..." she whispered, her back to the balcony. "No they don't. I can't let you do this to me, Scott. I won't."
He looked behind him quickly, before following her onto the balcony. He grabbed her hands quickly, smiling in relief.
"I'm gonna get you the help you need, Morgana. Trust me," he smiled, wiping the blood from her face.
"No: if I leave you can't stay." She whispered.
"What?" He said, as she gripped his hands tightly.
"If they stay with you, theyll turn out like you. You can't ruin them. I can't let you ruin them like you ruined me."
She stepped back, her grip on him almost Herculean.
"Ana, wait stop-"
"You would prefer this," she whispered, looking up at him. "To die in your prime."
He paused his struggling.
"To never deteriorate. To never get old. To always be known as someone with boundless potential. To be a legend. And I will always be remembered as all yours."
He briefly thought, maybe she wasn't wrong, and in the brief second, she hauled them both off the balcony.
