Luke 16:10 (An Avatrice Fanfiction)

Proverbs 13:12

Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life.

Beatrice awakes to a world full of gray. A spotlight casts over concrete walls, buzzing with ferocity. It sits a corner of the ceiling, watching over them with a single beady eye. The light is weak enough to cast Beatrice into darkness, but Mary basks in its dim yellow rays from her post. She leans comfortably against the wall, fidgeting with a carved knife absentmindedly. Lilith rests soundly beside her, beside stacks of buckets and mops. There are no windows in this place, but Beatrice can guess that they are well into the night. As much as she dislikes hiding in a janitor's closet, it was their only option. Adriel's demons found their last hideout far too quickly. Fresh memories of running down metal spiral stairs still haunt Beatrice. She watched her sisters spill out of some abandoned lighthouse in Normandy. Luckily, there was a museum nearby that Beatrice's parents had made considerable donations to, and the manager still owed them a favor. These walls were cold and lifeless, and the room was adorned with nothing but half-empty shelves. But they were safe, for now.

Camila rolls over in her sleep, away from the humming light. A few seconds pass, and she starts to snore softly. Shotgun Mary smiles, glancing over her sisters' sleeping forms. Beatrice shifts in her bag, pulling up the covers. Dust settles around her, making it hard to breathe. It's only then that she notices the empty sleeping bag. Ava was there when she last checked, chest sighing, hair spilling out of the covers. Now, the bag lies open on the cold floor.

Beatrice is up in an instant. She fumbles around, looking for the spare shruikens she hid underneath. She catches a glimpse of a sliver of light, making her freeze. It peeks through the door in the tiniest crack. Camila locked the door earlier that night, but now it sits slightly ajar.

"You let Ava leave?" Beatrice's words fly at Shotgun Mary. The older woman shrugs her shoulders. She won't look up from her knife.

"She's a grown woman, you know," Mary says. Beatrice sighs, letting her shoulders drop.

"I know, that's not—" Beatrice says. Her eyes look to the ceiling, contemplating the smooth gray stone. "It's already a miracle that they're letting us stay here. What if she gets caught?"

"C'mon. One Warrior Nun against a couple of guards?" Mary scoffs. She fiddles with the knife again, tossing it in the air before catching it with a perfect grip. "I'm not worried about it."

Beatrice lets out a huff. She goes through her bag, searching in the light of the cracked doorway. Eventually, she abandons the shruikens for the divinium sword at Ava's bedside. She throws it around her shoulder, letting the blue metal thud against her back. Her boots are next, taking a few tugs to work them on. She starts to throw her hair up in a messy bun. When she looks up, she notices Mary staring at her through strands of dark hair.

"Oh," Mary says, her voice dropping. "You're worried about it."

Beatrice pauses at the last pin in her bun.

"No," Beatrice says, feeling heat crawl into her cheeks. "I'm just... checking on her. There's safety in numbers."

"Okay. You keep telling yourself that," Mary laughs. She leans against the wall, letting her smile show. Lilith is awake now, propping herself on her elbows. Unsteady eyes glance between her sisters, unsure how to react. Beatrice looks incredulously at the both of them. She rises to her feet, letting the security lamp cast a light on her silhouette. There's a heavy silence between the three women, only interrupted by Camila's snores.

"Well?" Mary says, breaking the tension. "Go get her."

Beatrice pauses. Lilith's gaze rests heavily on her shoulders, as does the light on the corner wall. There's nothing accusatory about that gaze, just wakeful. Listening. Cement walls constrict their space, cutting into Beatrice's lungs. She nods to Shotgun Mary before pulling a flashlight off the wall. She peers through the crack in the door, scouting the dark hallways ahead. Before she disappears, Lilith flashes Mary a knowing glance. Mary can only chuckle to herself, letting the knife catch the light as she continues to toss it.