𝐖𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋𝗌 𝖺𝗅𝖻𝗎𝗆

still here

Outside the Iron Lion base. Just beyond the trees. Morning sun glowing through the mist.

Bea walked back slowly. Her boots brushed dew-laced grass, hands still dusty from kneeling. She didn't expect anyone to be waiting. She hadn't told anyone she was going.

But he was there.

Nico.

Sitting on one of the old stone walls near the edge of the forest, legs dangling, head bowed as he idly turned something over in his hands, a tiny wooden carving. A wolf, maybe. Or a dog.

She stopped a few feet from him.

"You followed me."

He looked up, quiet surprise flickering in his dark eyes before it softened into something else — understanding.

"Didn't follow. Just... waited."

Bea blinked once. Then walked toward him. Sat beside him. Their shoulders nearly touched. The silence stretched but not the painful kind. Just enough room to breathe.

"I thought you'd say something," she murmured.

"Didn't want to say the wrong thing," Nico said. "Didn't want to make it about me."

She tilted her head to look at him. The side of his face was lit by the pale gold of morning.

"You showing up? That was the right thing."

He glanced at her, caught in her amber eyes. "How do you feel?" he asked, voice careful.

She didn't answer right away. Just pulled her knees up slightly and leaned forward on them, gazing back toward the trees where the grave lay hidden.

"Like I finally remembered how to carry her without falling apart."

Nico nodded slowly, and something in him eased. He reached into his jacket, pulled out her inhaler, instinct by now and handed it to her without a word.

She smirked faintly and took it, nudging his knee.

"What would I do without you?"

"Hopefully not pass out in the woods."

She laughed. The first real one in a while. It caught him off guard like hearing a song you thought you'd lost.

After a pause, she looked down at the wooden figure in his hand. "What's that?"

"Was trying to carve a wolf," he admitted sheepishly. "Kinda looks like a squirrel that's seen things."

Bea grinned. "Prim loved wolves. Told me she wanted to be raised by them."

"Then maybe this squirrel-wolf isn't so bad." He held it out.

She took it carefully. Closed her hand around it. And with the most gentle gesture, she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

No fanfare. No big moment.

Just quiet. Just healing.

And Nico, without saying anything, rested his head against hers.

He didn't need to ask anything. He'd already heard her, in silence, in grief, in the courage it took to come back from it all.

"Still here," he whispered.

She nodded once against him.

"Still here."