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English
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Published:
2023-06-12
Words:
706
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1/1
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the devil's after both of us

Summary:

Of course Temperance would have a fail-safe.

Notes:

I have a bad feeling things are gonna get a whole lot worse for these two before they get better so I think psychologically this is my attempt at hurting myself before the show gets the chance to. im sure this will be a 100% effective strategy **POST-EPISODE EDIT** IT WAS NOT. FUCK.

title is from the song "Curses" by The Crane Wives, which I've had on repeat the past two weeks because it's wonderful but also because it's the most Nace song ever.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

There’s a tiny, tiny part of her that wants to say I told you so .

Now you know what it’s like.

Do you finally understand?

But Nancy can’t bring herself to say it, to rub salt in their fresh wound.

“I can’t fix this,” Bess wails. “I’m so, so sorry.”

She bursts into tears and has to leave the room. Normally, it would be Ace who follows, who would hold his best friend while she cries and tell her it’s going to be okay. Instead, George and Nick fill in, sparing looks of sympathy for the two left behind as they exit.

Nancy, seated on the edge of her desk and unsure of what to do with her hands, flattens her palms against her jeans. 

“Temperance won,” she whispers, choking back futile tears.

He wants to protest—she can see it. That flicker of determination in his eyes. She’d be more shocked if it weren’t there. Those sparks within him, the passion and resolve she loves so much along with all the rest of him. 

But now he’s drained of fuel, and there’s nothing left for those sparks to catch and burn.

Still, he tries.

“There has to be another way,” he says weakly, but he knows there isn’t. Not now, when the cost of failure isn’t just his own life anymore.

They should have known.

Of course Temperance would have a fail-safe. 

Nancy gently massages the tender flesh of her neck, where bruises shaped like ghostly fingers have begun to form. 

If they trigger the curse, he dies.

If they try to break the curse, she dies.

It’s a miracle Bess managed to halt it in time.

Her lip quivers, and one thought stands out from all the rest.

It’s not fair.

“Can I say something selfish?”

He frowns slightly but doesn’t reply, giving silent permission.

“I wish I’d never killed her.”

The crease in his brow softens, replaced with defeated sympathy.

“We both know that isn’t true.”

She nods, staring down at her lap. “I know,” she murmurs. “But I wish it were.”

Right now she wants, more than anything, to be selfish.

Ace sighs and buries his face in his hands as he lowers himself into a nearby chair. For a moment, they sit in silence. Bess’s faint sobs carry through the hall, along with George and Nick’s whispers of empty assurances Nancy can’t quite make out.

“I think…” Ace begins, his own voice tight as he holds back tears of his own, “I need to find a way to let you move on.”

He doesn’t say I need to move on . Or You need to move on . He knows as well as she does the impossibility of that task right now, with their hearts bare and bleeding and raw.

But as they cling to fraying threads of hope, he gives her permission to let go.

“What about us?” she whispers. A stray tear betrays her, rolling down her cheek. “Are we… friends?”

He’s silent for a moment, and when she finally works up the nerve to look at him he’s crying, too.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he chokes out, “but it might hurt too much.”

“Better hurt than dead.” 

He didn’t get it, before, when it was just his life at risk.

I told you so.

Now you know what it’s like to hold the life of the person you love in your hands.

He finally understands.

They sit in their shared pain a moment longer. Finally, he stands up, wiping his face with his sleeve in a motion so childlike it reminds her just how young they are, how much of their lives they have ahead of them, lives they can’t risk taking away from each other.

“I need to go to Bess.”

She can only nod, gaze dropping to her lap once more. He stands in front of her a moment longer before his footsteps retreat, and she’s alone in the hall.

I need to find a way to let you move on .

How do we move on when we don’t even know how to move forward?

When George returns, she joins Nancy on the desk, wraps her arms around her and lets her cry into her shoulder.

Notes:

i'm sorry. feel free to yell at me in the comments.