𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

⭐ nico the favourite

Nico sat on the edge of a cot inside the med tent, shirt off, shoulders stiff. The burn cream stung, and the gauze wrap around his ribs was already starting to itch.

He barely noticed.

Because Bea was there — sleeves rolled up, brow furrowed, hands working with calm precision as she patched up the raw scrapes along his arms.

"Could've warned me you were part porcupine," she muttered, taping another bandage. "Your skin's a disaster."

Nico gave her a lopsided smile. "Didn't realize nearly dying was such an inconvenience."

Bea snorted. "You're lucky you didn't cook yourself trying to be the next Right Arm poster boy."

He raised an eyebrow. "Poster boy?"

She looked up, half-amused. "Don't play innocent. You're all anyone's been talking about. 'Nico went into the fire,' 'Nico saved Nancy,' 'Did you see Nico carry her out like some kind of smoldering tragic hero?'"

He grinned. "Smoldering?"

"Shut up."

A beat passed. Then Bea leaned back, finishing the wrap.

Her fingers brushed against his shoulder more gently than necessary, lingering just a second too long.

"...You scared me, you know."

Nico blinked.

She didn't say it often — not like that. Not directly.

He tilted his head. "You too, huh?"

Bea sat down beside him, exhaling.

"Thomas was pacing like he was ready to burn the whole bay down."

She didn't realize what she said until Nico turned to her with raised brows.

Bea froze. "Wait— I didn't— I mean—"

Nico smirked. "Thomas?"

Bea covered her face with one hand. "Damn it."

Nico leaned forward, voice low. "He and Nancy?"

"She didn't want anyone to know yet!" Bea whispered, swatting him lightly. "It's not official, it's just, you know— them. And now you know, so you better not say a word."

Nico laughed, wincing slightly from his ribs. "My lips are sealed."

Bea gave him a look, then sighed, smiling in spite of herself.

"You really saved her."

"She would've done the same for me," Nico said simply.

Bea stared at him. Then, softly: "You're not who you used to be."

"I know."

"But just so we're clear," she added, nudging his knee with hers, "If you ever run into a collapsing tunnel again without backup, I'll drag you back by your ankles."

"Noted."

Bea stood, brushing her hands on her pants. "Now come on, Favorite Boy. You've got admirers outside who want to toast to your heroic jawline."

"Tell them I'm injured."

"Tell them yourself."

He didn't move.

Not until Bea leaned down, kissed the side of his head softly, just beside the burn and murmured:

"I'm proud of you, Nico Marrow."

He looked up at her. "I'm proud of me too."

Then, together, they walked into the glow of the campfire where friends and now family were waiting.

★