𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

the promise that never left 🕯️

Late night. Iron Lion base. After the nightmare.

The fire in the hearth had long since died, leaving only red embers and the soft creak of old stone. Outside, the night air curled through the arched windows, cool and quiet. Most of the base had gone to sleep.

Bea sat at the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tightly around herself, blanket barely hanging from her shoulders. She hadn't woken Nico.

But he stirred anyway.

He always did.

"You okay?" Nico's voice was groggy but instantly alert. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, blinking through sleep. "Is it the asthma? I can—"

Bea shook her head.

"No. It's not that."

A pause.

"I had... a dream."

Nico didn't speak. He waited.

She swallowed. Still staring into the dying coals.

"I was six," she began quietly. "And... we were in WCKD. My parents had disappeared days before. I didn't know where they went. If they were dead. If I did something wrong."

Her voice trembled, not because she was scared now, but because the memory still lived in her like it just happened.

"Prim was one month old. Just a baby. They left her with me. In this cold little room. No crib, no warmth, no explanation. Just... me. And her."

Nico leaned forward slightly, gently. "You took care of her."

Bea nodded, breath shaky.

"I didn't even know how to hold a baby properly. I was six, Nico. My arms hurt from holding her so long. But I didn't dare put her down. I thought if she cried, they'd come and take her away."

She glanced at him finally, amber eyes glassy.

"I think that's the moment I stopped being a kid. Right there. In that sterile room, rocking her while my back pressed into a corner wall."

Nico stood, quietly crossed the room, and sat beside her. He didn't interrupt. Didn't rush to comfort. He just listened.

"In the dream," she whispered, "she looked at me and said, 'Don't forget me.' And I told her I never would."

Nico's fingers brushed hers.

"You haven't," he said.

Bea looked down at their hands.

"But it still feels like I failed her. She died, Nico. She died in a world I swore I'd protect her from."

Her voice cracked then, just once, a sound so small, it split the air like thunder.

"And no matter how many battles I win, no matter how many lives I help save... I couldn't save hers."

Nico's jaw clenched. He reached out, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. She resisted for a second — as she always did — but then let go. She sank into him, tears slipping silently.

"You were six, Bea," he murmured. "And you still saved her. Again and again. You gave her years she never would've had without you."

"You gave her you. That's what she held onto."

Bea closed her eyes. Breathed in the scent of him — smoke, metal, rain. The present.

"I don't think I've ever told anyone that story," she admitted, voice muffled.

"You don't have to carry it alone anymore," Nico whispered. "I'll remember it with you."

Silence. Not heavy but healing.

Bea nodded slowly against his chest, the fire embers pulsing like a heartbeat. And for the first time in a long, long time...

She let herself rest.