𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

the reason (pt. ii)

Nico's POV 🌺 Battle aftermath

Smoke choked the air like a curtain drawn tight.

Everywhere around him was ash — blackened metal, screams, chaos breaking like thunder between walls. He'd lost sight of Hugo. Matt had shouted something about flanking left. Vincent was dragging a wounded Glader back toward cover.

But all Nico could see was her.

Across the rubble-strewn field.

A blur of blood and dirt and flame.

Bea.

She was limping, jacket torn and singed, amber eyes sharp with desperation. Her hands were scraped raw, trembling, one of them clutching nothing but,

A broken arrowhead.

"No."

Nico's heart slammed against his ribs. 

No bow. No backup. No reason she should still be on her feet.

But she was.

She moved like it didn't matter that she was bleeding. Like it didn't matter that the world was ending. She threw the arrow with every ounce of rage she had left — it flew true, slicing into a Crank's arm as he lunged at one of their wounded.

Then she staggered, catching herself against a scorched beam.

He ran. Didn't even think, just sprinted, fire licking the air behind him.

"Bea!"

She didn't hear him at first.

When he reached her, she was gasping, still half-ready to fight, until she saw him. And in her eyes, in those fire-lit, defiant amber eyes, he saw it.

Not surrender. Not panic.

But focus. Steady. Fierce.

And beneath all of it... himself.

The memory of them. Of that dance. Of her laugh. Of the night when she was just a girl in a dress, and he was the boy who remembered she had a heart.

"You idiot," she croaked, still swaying. "I had that."

"Sure you did," he whispered, catching her just as she collapsed into him.

His arms wrapped around her, anchoring her as her knees gave out. "You were gonna fight off ten Cranks with a piece of metal?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," she mumbled.

He laughed, breathless.

And then, quieter: "You remembered."

She didn't answer. Didn't need to.

The broken arrowhead clattered from her hand as she leaned her head against his chest, letting herself rest, just for a moment. He held her like she might flicker out if he didn't.

"That night... in the hall," Nico murmured, voice rough. "That's what got you back up, wasn't it?"

Her fingers curled weakly into his shirt.

"It was the reason," she whispered. "You were the reason."