GRIM REAPER¹, bellamy blake

082 ━━ unfinished legacy

tw; suicidal urges and pill abuse

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IONA'S MIND was buzzing. Aside from being otherwise numb everywhere in her body- thanks to the countless painkillers she'd taken- she was full of jitters. She couldn't sit still, pacing back and forth in the room despite the dull ache of her stomach.

She was otherwise calm, which was strange given her current circumstances. Perhaps Iona had accepted her impending death, and honestly, with her wounds and the knowledge that Bellamy had partaken in the one thing that had her furious at Pike, death didn't seem too bad.

Iona should've been angry, or hurt, or completely and utterly broken, but something inside of her just wouldn't let her be affected by the truth.

Instead of being furious and on the verge of tears, she was calm, collected, and somewhat stunned. Lincoln could see her wall sliding back into place, coming even between the two of them as she tried to bar her feelings off.

He knew it was to protect herself- even if she didn't know it- and was purely because, deep down, her heart was broken at the reality.

Lincoln just stared at her, her hands shaking, fingers tapping against her arm as they ached to hold onto her katana. She really did have separation anxiety from the weapon, but he knew she just needed something to comfort her.

After all, the world around Iona was collapsing.

"Death, huh?" Iona suddenly said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the cell. She sounded amused, completely manic, as a laugh tore through her and echoed around the sound. "How quaint."

Lincoln observed her quietly, watching her mouth contort as a rapid succession of breaths broke through her, before her face contorted into one of pain, and she leaned back against the wall of the cell, sliding to the floor.

Her lip quivered, tears silently falling down her cheeks, as her body wracked with sobs that made no noise.

Iona was breaking, and Lincoln couldn't do anything more than just sit there, a painful look on his face as he witnessed it occur.

Silently, he slid over to her, hesitantly sitting down in front of her with his legs crossed. She hardly even spared him a glance, eyes far away, as if she was momentarily transported to a different place.

Slowly, Lincoln took Iona's hands in his own, rubbing comforting circles into the skin of the woman he's always seen be strong.

Maybe Iona deserved to finally break down.

She'd been through so much, and never once shed a tear. Iona lost her sister and hardly paid any mind to the loss- to the fact that she was allowed to grieve; she lost her parents, her title, fought her own family, and had now been betrayed by the man she loved.

Iona always stayed strong for her people and led them into a war driven by fury- because that was the only emotion Iona allowed herself to feel.

Instead of being upset or heartbroken, Iona replaced those emotions with anger and hostility until they took over her. Lincoln knew she was caring deep down, but she'd been forcing herself to bury that loving side of herself under hundreds of layers of pain.

Perhaps it was a skill of hers; to convert all the hurt and loss into something that made her stronger. The same could be said for her knack of hiding how she truly felt and burying herself in so many layers of denial that even she was lost.

Iona was like a maze with no ending.

You couldn't escape her, no matter what, and merely found yourself in hundreds of new twists and turns that led to more bloodshed, more hurt, and more loss that merely had you sitting there, afraid of the new turn.

Iona had been lost in that maze for years, and Lincoln feared that this might've finally been the ending she craved to receive.

Still, he'd never forgive himself if he didn't try.

"You can't give up on me now," Lincoln said quietly. Iona scoffed, shaking her head with teary eyes. "You are not going to die today. Not now, not tomorrow- because you are strong and can make it through this."

Iona narrowed her dark eyes, "Don't you see? Death is the only way out- it's my only hope. There is nothing left for me here. Dying would be a blessing I'd never been granted before."

Heaving shaky breaths, Iona furiously shook her head, "I want to die, Lincoln."

Lincoln blinked.

His furious commander, a woman he's always looked up to; a woman that, when they locked eyes, bore nothing but pure strength in those brilliant eyes of hers; a woman that, now, wished to die and throw her life away.

"You don't mean that," Lincoln murmured, detaching one of his hands from hers in order to cup her cheek, wiping the stray tears away. She closed her eyes painfully, sniffling with slight content.

"What if I do?" Iona whispered with a broken voice; eyes closed.

Lincoln leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and shook his head, "You don't. Your legacy is not yet finished."

Iona's head lolled forward weakly, resting on his shoulder, and she allowed herself to rest like that for however long it took until she finally fell asleep, tears staining her pretty face.

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fair warning iona will be very weak and vulnerable for awhile now as she finally accepts/faces all the loss in her life. your badass iona will return, but for now, shes gonna be our emotionally unstable and teary-eyed baby.