Impossible (A HEARTLESS Fanfic)

Chapter Thirty-Three

Cath couldn't breathe. She couldn't move. If she'd had a heart, it would have stopped.

How could this be? How could he be here? She had seen him die. His head had been taken off with an axe. That moment was forever etched into her memory. She would never forget it.

And yet, here he was, alive and in one piece. It was clearly him. There was no mistaking those yellow eyes and the dimples that just barely showed as he smiled at her nervously. She could not forget that face. It was behind her eyelids every time she closed her eyes. It haunted her every night as she laid awake in her lonely bed.

Jest.

"How can you be here?" she asked, the quaver in her voice surprising even to her. "You are dead. I watched you die."

He gave a sad smile. "And I am sorry for that. You should never have had to witness such a thing."

"So you're saying you are dead?"

"It's rather complicated."

"Then enlighten me."

He swallowed hard. He was afraid of her. It was nothing new. Everyone was afraid of her. But for some reason, seeing fear in him made her feel as close to sad as she could get in her heartless state.

"Well, it all goes back to the Sisters," Jest said, opening and closing his hands nervously. "It seems they took a liking to me. In an effort to keep me from dying, they brought me to the treacle well."

Cath narrowed her eyes and glared at Hatta. "I was told that treacle could not fix your condition."

Hatta returned her cold glare.

"It can't," Jest said, glancing at his old friend. "But at the treacle well, Time cannot find you. By keeping me there, the Sisters made certain Time would not take its toll on me. I would not die. Or age. I'd stay the same for as long as I remained.

"It seemed a better alternative to death, albeit a lonely one. Very few find their way to the well. Most people aren't desperate enough. But one day a young girl appeared with a missing foot and the legendary Vorpal Sword."

He looked to the thief and gave a soft smile. Her eyes widened, and she clutched at her skirts.

"As soon as I recognized the sword, I took the precaution of altering my appearance. Just in case. I had no intentions of returning with her, but when she told me of the fear in Hearts and the heartlessness of the Queen, I realized that it was all my fault. If I had never interfered, none of this would have happened. She told me that she and a small band of rebels were going to put an end to the Queen's reign. I couldn't let them do it alone, not knowing that I was the one responsible.

"I made a deal with the Sisters. I requested enough time to go to Hearts, find the Queen, and fix what I had done."

"What did they take from you?" Hatta asked.

"My title." Jest shrugged. "I won't be returning to Chess, so I don't see why I need to be a Rook."

"You did all of that just to come here and bring an end to my reign?" Cath asked.

His attention returned to her. "I did it so I could make things right."

He climbed the steps up to her throne. She fell back, afraid to let him come any closer. What if he disappeared? What if he attacked her? But what made her most afraid was for him to see what she had become. While she didn't have any regrets over her reign, she was certain that this gentle, loving man would not approve of her choices. And for some reason that mattered to her.

"Cath," he said so softly it was almost a whisper. He wrapped his gloved hands around her own, squeezing them gently. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that I left you. That I let things get to this point. It's all my fault."

Cath gritted her teeth. "Why are you apologizing? I'm a queen now. I have more power than anyone in Hearts. My life is the envy of all."

He furrowed his brow. "Is that really how you feel?"

"I don't feel anymore. I gave up such unnecessary things to avenge your death."

His eyes crinkled in a wince. "I'm sorry for that."

"Stop apologizing, Jest. You act as though I had no control over my actions. I am fully capable of making my own decisions, even if no one else agrees with them."

With his mouth pulled up in a weak smile, he tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. "Yes, you are. You've always been capable. Strong, clever, and capable. That's why we wanted your heart." His expression faltered, and for a moment it looked as though he might cry. "It's why I wanted your heart."

"You had my heart, Jest. It was yours. It always was."

He took a deep breath and forced a smile. "And mine has always been yours."

Leaning forward, he rested his forehead against hers. Cath closed her eyes, taking in his familiar touch. For the first time in years, she wished she had a heart so that this reunion could mean more. She wanted to feel its rapid beating as his lips neared her cheek, the rush of heat as he brushed them against her skin, and the tingling sensation as he breathed her name. But she felt nothing. Only emptiness.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered into her ear.

She opened her eyes to rebuke him once again and found him with a dagger in his hand. The blade glinted in the light, and for a brief moment, she thought it was the end. But then, his eyes expressing another apology that she did not want, he stabbed it into his own chest.

There were gasps from the others, and she thought the little thief attempted to run to him. But Cath's attention was fixed on Jest and the pain in his eyes as he gasped for breath. Steeling himself against the bite of the blade, he slowly pulled it out of his chest. Cath's eyes widened when she saw what he had done.

His heart.

He had removed his heart. But why? What good would that do?

She opened her mouth to question him, but before she could, he grabbed hold of her shoulder. His grip was tight and desperate. She looked up into his eyes. His sad, lemon eyes. The eyes that she had first seen in her dreams. The eyes that she still saw in her dreams.

"I'm so sorry for this, Cath."

With that, he plunged both the heart and the blade into her own chest. Pain surged through her body. Pain from the blade, yes, but another pain as well. It was sharp and hot and penetrated her entire being. Her vision blurred, and a scream echoed in her ears. Gasping for breath, she clutched at her chest, clawing at it to remove the source of the pain. But the dagger was gone. The pain was not from the weapon. She collapsed to her knees, her body trembling.

And that's when they surfaced. Emotions. Every emotion she had given up when she handed her heart over to the Sisters.

Happiness.

Love.

Grief.

Regret.

They attacked her all at once, and she found she was not strong enough to resist them. Doubling over, she continued to clutch at her chest, the strange beating inside of it almost deafening.

And then, for the first time in over ten years, she cried.

And cried.

And cried.

Until she was a sobbing mess curled into a ball before her throne.