In This Life

(3) Isaiah 43:2

When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

When Mother Superion had said for her to expect a familiar face, she had not expected Vincent. She had been browsing through a clothing shop when she spotted him through the crowd of people on the streets outside. Netherlands at night could be really lively. The last time she had seen Vincent was when she left the OCS. She still didn't trust him after all he had done. Killing Shannon, manipulating the sisters and trying to mould Ava into his image, all to serve Adrial. Even though Ava had cleared him as well as his later actions, Beatrice would never forgive him for all the pain he caused.

As Beatrice put back the jacket she had picked up, she left the shop and walked down the streets. She bobbed and weaved through all obstacles whilst keeping an eye on her surroundings, making sure Vincent could keep track of her. Although she knew the priest wouldn't. When she reached a quiet alley she ducked into it and waited with heavy thoughts. "It's good to see you in good health." She turned to look at the older man with slight distain. He hadn't changed much, just a bit cleaner in his appearance. "I'd rather not with the pleasantries." Beatrice said rather shortly which made Vincent bow his head slightly. "I know you don't trust me, I wouldn't either but I want to work towards your forgiveness. If you'll let me." Vincent did seem genuine to her but the little voice of caution in the back of Beatrice's head told her to not drop her guard just yet. "I'll forgive you. One day."

Vincent reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. "This was found amongst Ava's belongings. It's addressed to you." Beatrice's heart stopped, however briefly there was no oxygen in her body. Her body was on auto pilot while her brain ran wild. Ava had left her a letter? When had she written it? Too many questions for her to answer at once. She looked down at the envelope and saw her name written in very familiar hand writing. After the Vatican attack when Ava and Beatrice we alone in Switzerland, the nun had to teach the girl a lot. Whilst she was the Warrior Nun, she was still quadriplegic for majority of her life so she didn't know how to do some of the most basics of tasks. Beatrice had to teach her how to work showers, cook, basis house chores, how to swim and how to write. Ava's handwriting before was atrocious and barely readable but as she looked at her name in that new handwriting, that took hours to teach, she was bombarded with memories. "Is that all?" Beatrice managed to ask Vincent who simply nodded.

"Come back to the OCS."

"No."

"Beatrice, you can't keep running from this."

"Who said I'm running Vincent? If a holy war truly is coming then I would like to at least live my life before marching into battle."

"I didn't mean the holy war. I meant running from the pain of missing Ava. I understand the two of you were close."

"Who said I was running from that either?" Vincent exhaled slowly as he approached and placed a hand on Beatrice's shoulder. "I have faith that Ava will return. She's defeated death too many times let us face this evil alone. We can't divert from the course God has laid out, all we can do is pray and fight whatever is in our way." Beatrice took the letter from his hands and looked up at him. His eyes were full of conviction with of course the slight hint of hope. Hope that his speech would help push Beatrice back to the OCS. "I don't doubt she won't come back. I have full faith in her and her abilities. Ava told me to live my life which is what I'm going to do, so until she returns or until I decide I'm not coming back." She quickly pushed Vincent away and punched him as hard as she could in the gut. "That was for Shannon..." She punched him again in the same spot, taking pride in his throws of pain. "And that was for Mary. Travel safe Father Vincent." Beatrice let him go and raced out of the alleyway and in the direction of her hostel. She could feel the letter burning in her hand like a fire begging to be freed.