Short Stories and Oneshots

after failure

is this canon with Parallels?

...unfortunately I can't tell you that just yet. Let's just say that I've been feeling bad and wanted to take it out on some characters, and these two were the first to pop into my mind.

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Aiden's at her door again.

He's not sure how many days have passed, how many times he's come in to try to comfort her, try to stir her back into motion.

He knows he's failing. He knows he can't do anything now. No one can.

Even she can't. She, who twisted her fingers through the fabric of the universe itself, has no path forward yet to take.

At least, not a visible one.

His boots make soft tapping sounds on the stone floor as he walks up to her desk, where she's bent over with her head in her hands. One hand is laid gingerly on her shoulder. "Essa...?"

"You can't do anything, Aiden."

Her voice is a low, angry rasp, cut hoarse from the nights of crying. She doesn't talk much now, except to send away nearly everyone who comes by. Usually, she lets him stay at least a little while, but she sounds exceptionally incensed today. Nevertheless, he pushes forward.

"You can't keep going like this. This isn't you. We can't fix things if you're just going to dwell on the past."

This gets her attention. "Fix things?" she mutters, sitting up straight and levelling a dark look at him. "Fix things? What do you mean, FIX THINGS?! There is nothing LEFT to fix! What kind of delusion are you living in?!"

He crosses his arms. He's dealt with her wrath before- he'll weather this outburst too. "A different one than you, apparently. Look, just because one plan failed doesn't mean-"

"Not ONE plan, Aiden. My only plan!" she snarls, cutting him off. She jolts to her feet, shoving the chair back. He's taller than her, but she doesn't seem cowed as he looms solidly over her. "And it did not FAIL! We were DOUBLE-CROSSED and the plan was DECIMATED! There is no trying again!"

"We've been brought down before, Essa. We can come back from this. Maybe not in the exact way you were envisioning, but we're not out yet. We can start over, make new plans and find new goals. It's not too late to-"

She slaps him.

Not a well-meaning, snap-out-of-it kind of slap. A full backhand, her pent-up anger flowing out through one motion.

His eyes go wide, and he slowly lifts a hand to touch the already-reddening skin of his cheek. Essa can be a very ferocious, dangerous person, but she's never- never – touched one of her allies out of violence. She's too cautious for that, preferring to use tricks and threats even against her enemies.

"Get out of here, Aiden." she says, voice cold.

Aiden stares down at her in shock. He'd been expecting...well, not an apology, but some sign that her anger had gotten the better of her, and she hadn't actually meant to do that. But no. She looks back at him with impassive brown eyes, her elegant features set into an unrepentant look.

"What...?" he murmurs.

"Get out. Outta my room, outta the base, get out of Beacontown. Go start over, find your 'new goals' or whatever." she tells him, with another flippant hand motion that makes him flinch. "Trust me, I doubt you'll want to still be here after a couple days."

He watches as she stalks over to the other side of the room and bends down to open a chest. "W-why? What are...what are you gonna do?" he stammers, still not fully recovered from her abrupt shift in character. She's always been unpredictable, but this...this is different.

He suddenly wonders how long she's been a stranger.

Essa slides something into her inventory, then stands to face him again. Her eyes still have that dead, uncaring look to them, and goosebumps ripple up his arms. "I'm not kidding, Aiden. Leave. This whole place is getting burnt to the ground, and I frankly don't care if you're still here when it does."

A flash of black and silver appears in her hands, and he stares numbly as she flicks the flint and steel through her fingers, never taking her eyes off him.

Aiden slowly takes a step back, then another. He briefly runs through a few things to say- don't do this, goodbye, how could you, what happened to you -but he can't seem to say a thing. He knows she's serious. She doesn't bluff about things this extreme. Normally, she doesn't even warn about them.

He turns, walking gradually out of the room. Deep down, he'd always know this wasn't going to end well, that following her was only going to lead him down a darker and darker path. But he'd always thought that he'd be striding down that path willingly, by her side, ready to support her no matter how bad things got.

He never thought it would end quite like this.