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c-e-d-dreamer · 7 months

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Barbarian Bat: Part Three

A/N: Let's all just pretend that I'm not super behind on writing and updating.... aha? But I hope everyone enjoys this next part! We're getting angsty up in here.

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Nesta’s heart pounds between her ribs, the thrumming beat in time with every hurried step through the snow. She’s half aware of the cold biting across the skin of her cheeks, of the numbness beginning to creep into her fingers, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than forcing air into her lungs, forcing it around the lump pressing painfully in her throat. Her whole chest feels hollowed out, feels bruised and empty, and she can feel the familiar prickle of tears burning just behind her eyes.

The snow and the trees pass by in a watery blur, but Nesta keeps pushing forward. She refuses to give in to the dread that weighs heavy in her gut, refuses to give in to the darkness swirling in tighter and tighter and threatening to pull her under. Perhaps, if she keeps walking far enough, she’ll finally wake up back in her bed in her tiny apartment back on earth.

“Nes!”

Nesta takes a moment to close her eyes, a near hysterical laugh bubbling up and out of her. Of course. Of course, he followed her. Of course, she’s never truly allowed a second of peace.

“Nesta!”

“You are quite literally the last person I want to see right now,” Nesta calls over her shoulder, rolling her eyes.

“Nes, please. Stop.”

“I’m serious. Leave me alone.”

Nesta hears Cassian let out an annoyed huff, hears him jog through the snow to catch up to her. “If you are going to storm off, at least do it in a different direction.”

“Just because we’ve resonated that doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, you insufferable alien,” Nesta seethes, trying to pick up her pace.

“And your stubbornness is walking you straight into Metlak territory.”

Nesta whirls back around to face him, her hands clenched into fists at her side. “Didn’t you know? I’m the stubborn one. The scary one. So why don’t you take a hint from the rest of the tribe and finally just steer clear?”

Cassian frowns, and even across the distance still between them, Nesta can see the pained look that mars his expression as he presses a hand to his chest. “You are my mate. The one my khui has chosen as mine.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t want to be.”

“Yes, you have made that perfectly clear. I am sorry. I am sorry that your khui did not choose someone better for you. I am sorry that it is me you are stuck with.”

The words hit Nesta hard enough that her breath stutters for a moment, cracks ricocheting through her chest. The defensive quip dies on her tongue, any other words tangling into a tight knot.

How could he not know? How could he not know that she had been drawn into his gravity from the moment she laid eyes on him? How could he not know that every teasing remark, every smile, every laugh he directed her way left something warm and dangerous blooming within her that Nesta refuses to name? How could he not know that he is all that is good and brave and kind, and it is her that does not deserve him?

“Cassian…”

But Nesta trails off as Cassian’s eyes widen, his attention drifting firmly over her shoulder. He looks nothing short of alarmed, and it has every hair on the back of Nesta’s neck rising, anxiety beginning to spark in her veins. Tentatively, she turns back around and comes face to face with a pair of large, round eyes. The white fur of the creature is dirty and splotted with brown spots, and when Nesta takes in a gasping breath, she’s hit with what smells a lot like a wet dog. The creature tilts its head, peering up at her almost curiously, before opening its beak-like mouth and giving Nesta a perfect view of its fangs.

Nesta tries to slowly back away, but her feet have sunk too deeply, her snowshoes catching and dragging in the snow until she’s toppling backwards and landing with a quiet cry of surprise. The metlak lets out some sort of call, a sound that reminds Nesta of an owl hooting, and then two more creatures are stepping out from the tree line and approaching her.

“Nesta!”

Nesta's heart stutters and pounds in her chest, and she tries to scramble back away from the creatures, away from their large unblinking eyes that are pinned on her, away from their mouths full of fangs. Another hooting sound and that first metlak dares to take a step closer to her, Nesta's whole body locking up with a full body flinch in anticipation of an attack.

A roar sounds from behind her, and Nesta can do nothing but gape as Cassian goes rushing forward and barrels into the group of metlaks. The creatures are quick to fight back, arms swinging and dragging their claws against his skin. Cassian reaches to pull his knife free from his belt, but one of the metlaks sinks its fangs into his arm, and he lets out a pained shout of surprise as his knife falls into the snow.

With a growl, Cassian throws his arm out and shakes the metlak free, sending the creature sailing through the air until it goes crumbling into the snow. The other metlaks are briefly distracted by their fallen comrade, so Cassian whirls around, his hands sifting through the snow to find his missing knife. But the distraction is short lived, and soon, the two remaining metlaks have their attention solely back on Cassian, letting out more of those ominous hooting sounds.

“Cassian!” Nesta screams out in warning. “Cassian!”

Cassian looks up in alarm just as one of the metlaks pounces, claws and fangs burying into his back. He turns around before the remaining metlak can join the attack, kicking out his leg and sending it back toward the tree line. His hands reach back to try and grasp at the metlak still attached to him, but the creature rears its head back and takes another bite out of Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian stumbles, dropping down to one knee and clearly in pain. Nesta can’t take anymore, can’t just sit by and watch. She pushes back to her feet and rushes forward. She spies Cassian’s abandoned knife, scooping it up out of the snow as she goes. She curls her fingers tight around the hilt, drawing her hand back and swinging forward until the carved bone is embedded deep in the metlak's fur. The metlak lets out an anguished sound, squirming until warm red spills across Nesta’s hands and between her fingers, but it releases its hold on Cassian and collapses at their feet.

Nesta’s chest is heaving, and the knife slips from her grip as she staggers back a step. She swallows hard around the bile threatening to rise up in her throat, blinking down at the metlak blood staining her skin. A finger beneath her chin has her gaze raising and meeting a pair of eyes glowing with concern.

“Are you well, Nes?”

A hysterical laugh threatens to bubble up out of her at the question. “You’re the one who was just attacked, and you’re asking me if I’m well?”

Nesta reaches her hand up in the space between them, trying to put pressure on the wound left behind from the metlak’s claws on Cassian’s chest. Between the way her fingers have started to tremble and the slickness of the blood, her hand slips against his skin, but Cassian’s own fingers curl gently around her wrist, halting her movements. With everything that’s happened, the touch shouldn’t be as warm and grounding as it is, but there’s no denying the calming feeling that washes over her.

“Do not worry about me,” Cassian tells her as he reaches down and grabs his knife, standing up with a grimace. “We must get you somewhere safe, away from metlak territory.” Cassian looks up and around them, taking in their surroundings. “I know this area. There is a hunter cave not far.”

Somehow, numbly, Nesta nods her head. She stumbles back to where their packs are laying in the snow, shouldering the weight of both of them. Cassian tries to take them from her, but she holds firm, especially as blood continues to slide along his skin in streaks of red. He seems less than impressed, but he leads the way through the snow, keeping his knife raised and ready in case of another attack.

Thankfully, they really don’t need to walk too far before reaching the hunter cave, but Nesta still lets out an exhausted sigh as she drops their packs to the floor. She goes to move the privacy screen into place at the cave entrance, but a pained grunt draws her attention back to Cassian. He’s dropped to his knees, whatever adrenaline that was keeping him going now gone.

He winces as he pulls his vest off and tosses it aside, and Nesta gets her first look at just how bad the wounds to his back are. The gashes are deep and still bleeding, the one at his shoulder where that metlak bit him especially gruesome. When Cassian falls forward, just barely catching himself with his hand, Nesta rushes to his side. She drops to her own knees beside him, stretching an arm across his waist to try and hold him up.

“You need to see Madja,” Nesta tells him, eyes raking over the concerningly high number of scratches and gashes. “We need to get you back to the main cave.”

Cassian shifts enough that he can slide his palm along Nesta’s cheek, thumb skating across her skin. The way his eyes droop and are unfocused has fear spearing icy cold through Nesta’s chest, twisting tighter and tighter until it hurts to squeeze air into her lungs. She curls her fingers around his wrist, squeezing hard and holding him there. Holding him here with her.

“Cassian…”

“My mate,” Cassian whispers, his words slightly slurred. “Safe.”

Cassian’s eyes flutter closed, and then he’s slumping forward, Nesta just barely able to brace him and the dead weight before his face makes contact with the stone floor of the cave.

“Shit,” Nesta whispers to herself, giving Cassian’s shoulder a shake but he doesn’t move or make a sound. “Shit shit shit… Okay… Okay.”

Nesta closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, steadying herself and willing her thundering heart to calm. She can do this. She has to do this. With a determined nod, Nesta pushes back up to her feet. She goes over to where she dropped their packs, rooting around in Cassian’s until she finds his flint. She finds fuel in one of the baskets tucked along the far wall of the cave, stacking them in the makeshift fire pit the way she’s seen the other members of the tribe do before.

It takes a few strikes of the flint, but finally, Nesta is able to get sparks. She holds her breath until the sparks grow into proper flames, the orangey glow quickly filling the cave. She grabs their waterskins next, stepping just outside of the cave and filling them both with snow before setting them above the now crackling fire to melt. It takes some tugging on Nesta’s part, but she’s able to drag the heavy privacy screen in place over the cave entrance, trapping the warmth from the fire in with them.

Nesta uses the first waterskin to pour the now melted water over her hands and clean them, and then she turns back to Cassian and his wounds. She frowns and tilts her head, trying to determine the best next steps. She doesn’t exactly have a first aid kit handy on this planet. She decides to reach for her furs, untying them from her pack.

She takes Cassian’s knife and slices the furs into strips, cutting the final strip into squares. She crushes some soap berries into the waterskin and dips the first square of fur into the sudsy water. She keeps her touch careful and gentle as she cleans each of Cassian’s wounds. Amazingly, some of the more shallow scratches have already begun to heal, his khui clearly working hard and quickly.

She covers the worst of his wounds with the strips of fur, finding some twine in Cassian’s pack to tie the ones on his shoulder in place, then sits back on her haunches with a soft sigh. She only allows herself a moment before pushing back to her feet. She discards the now pile of bloody furs and dumps the dirty water. It takes some awkward maneuvering with Cassian’s large body, but Nesta is able to roll out his furs and get him into them.

He hasn’t moved or made a sound since he lost consciousness, but his chest continues to move up and down with each breath, and when Nesta presses the palm of her hand there, she can feel the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. With nothing to keep her hands or her mind busy anymore, it’s hard to stop the dark thoughts that swirl and roll in like storm clouds. A lump presses in against her throat, her stomach churning as she grips at the leathers of her clothing until her knuckles turn white. She has no idea if she’s done enough, no idea if Cassian will be able to heal, if he’ll even wake up. And she has no idea where they are. No idea how to contact anyone from the main cave to get help.

“Please don’t die on me,” Nesta whispers, brushing the dark strands of Cassian’s hair out of his face. “You can’t die on me, you stupid alien, you hear me?”

Nesta holds vigil until exhaustion sinks into her limbs and threatens to tug her under. Until her eyelids start to droop and she has to shake herself to keep them open. She curls up beside Cassian, keeping her hand firmly on his chest, on his still beating heart. She allows the assurance that, for now, he’s okay to wash over her, allows the steady thrum under her hand to finally lull her to sleep.

It’s the cold beneath her hands that she feels first. Cold and hard, and when she curls her fingers, it’s the distinct feel of metal beneath her touch. In a second, her eyes snap open, taking in the white, clinical walls, the various metal panels, the flashing lights. Fear grips her tight enough that Nesta swears she’s being burned from the inside out by its icy grip. She opens her mouth, tries to scream, but all there is is a lump pressing into her throat.

Nesta tries to sit up, tries to clamber off the table, but she can’t seem to get her limbs to work. It’s like she’s pinned down, like she’s paralyzed, and that fear turns into a full blown panic, clawing at her chest and leaving it heaving. She thrashes her head, trying to escape, but as she turns to the right, she realizes she’s not alone in this room.

Cassian is sprawled across the floor, and it takes Nesta a moment too long to realize that his eyes are staring unblinking up at the ceiling, that his chest isn’t moving. In fact, the longer she stares, the more gashes that seem to appear across his skin, blood gurgling and pooling beneath him. Nesta thrashes harder against her invisible restraints, tries desperately to reach for him as the familiar sting at the back of his eyes blurs her vision.

Nesta wakes with a jolt, Cassian’s name weighing heavy on the tip of her tongue. Her heart pounds between her ribs, squeezing and twisting in a way that leaves a steady ache. Her stomach roils, and she’s confident that if she had anything in her gut, she’d have lost it. Her breath still heaves out of her as she turns her attention to Cassian, but he hasn’t moved, his condition still the same as before she fell asleep.

She lets out a quiet breath and lays back down beside him, tries to lull herself back under, but sleep does not come easily, and it’s fitful for the rest of the night. By the time pale morning light starts to creep into the cave around the privacy screen, she feels more exhausted than any sort of rested. Her chest still aches like a festering wound, her limbs heavy as she shifts and stretches.

But Nesta still pulls herself up. She slides the back of her hand along Cassian’s temple and cheek, and she frowns at the way his skin feels warm, like he’s practically radiating heat. Does that mean he has a fever? That his wounds are infected? How is she supposed to know what the normal temperature of an alien is? She peels back each of the strips of fur to check, but almost all of his wounds have closed up, even the worst of them scabbed over.

“Cassian,” Nesta tries, gently shaking his shoulder.

Cassian lets out a quiet groan, a soft murmur that Nesta can’t quite make out what he’s saying, but she decides any sound is a good sign. She quickly adds more fuel and stokes the fire back to life, tugging the privacy screen back enough that she can reach a hand out and pack more snow into a waterskin, melting it down. She adds soap berries and takes the time to reclean all of Cassian’s wounds, carefully laying the strips of fur back in place and tucking him back in.

By the time Nesta has finished, her stomach seems set on being louder than even her khui, and she knows she’ll need to venture out of the safety of the cave. She grabs Cassian’s knife and keeps it poised in her hand as she slowly pulls back the privacy screen the rest of the way and peeks her head outside. When she’s sure the coast is clear, she steps out properly into the snow and the two suns already sitting high in the sky.

Nesta knows that the hunters have caches near each of the caves. She knows that she just needs to find the tree that has the markings in the bark to indicate where this cave’s cache is. She heads for the tree line, making sure she keeps the cave in her line of sight at all times as she wanders through the snow. Her eyes scan the different trunks until she finally spots the one with knife markings on it. She drops to her knees and digs through the snow until she finds a quillbeast buried there, tugging it free and piling the snow back on top of the cache.

It’s messy and imperfect, skinning the quillbeast when she makes it back to the hunter cave, and it takes much longer than Nesta thought it would but she makes it work. She cooks the meat over the fire and nibbles on the pieces, occasionally glancing toward Cassian to check on him. She’s going to need a proper plan soon. A long term plan soon.

But for right now, all Nesta can think about is how gross she feels. The trek to the Elder cave and everything that’s happened since then hasn’t exactly lent itself to the opportunity to bathe and she’s certainly feeling it. Her braid is practically crusted over with grease, and there’s a layer of grime and sweat clinging to her skin that has her nose scrunching in distaste.

She clambers up to her feet, grabbing one of the waterskins and making for the cave entrance. Darkness has started to creep in outside, and Nesta swears she can feel eyes staring at her from behind the tree line. It has her shuttering, memories of the metlaks still fresh in her mind. She makes quick work of packing the waterskin with snow and securing the privacy screen firmly back in place, some of the tension finally loosening from her shoulders when she’s sat safely back at the fire.

She sets the waterskin above the fire to melt the snow and gets started on her hair while she waits, tugging the leather strap free and carefully unwinding the strands. She digs a bone comb out of her pack and uses it to work through the tangles. By the time she finishes, the snow has melted and the water has warmed, so she crushes up some soap berries, lathering up her hair and carefully rinsing the strands.

Just that one thing already has her feeling infinitely better, but she peels off her shirt and sets it aside. She uses the spare squares of fur to scrub and rinse down her arms, along her shoulders, across her collarbones. Her khui begins to sing loudly in her chest, sending vibrations skittering through her veins, heat creeping up her spine, and her hands pause their movements. A shudder takes over her body, her breath catching in her throat, as if it knows what’s happening before her mind catches up.

She didn’t even hear him get up. Didn’t hear him move across the cave and closer to her. But now she can hear the way his own khui answers the song of her own, can feel the warmth radiating off him as much as the fire in front of her.

Despite his overly large hands, Cassian’s touch is surprisingly gentle. The tips of his fingers whisper across her exposed shoulder, tracing shapes and patterns along the skin. Nesta can feel her heart starting to trip over itself between her ribs, can hear her damn khui practically screaming away, but she can’t find it within herself to move away from him, can scarcely breathe. Goosebumps bloom down her arm at his touch, and she hates it.

She hates his tenderness and his kindness and the fact she doesn’t deserve it. She hates the way their khuis sing and twine together, filling the space of the cave around them. She hates the way she wants to lean back into him, to give in until she’s consumed. But, instead, she stares resolutely at the shadows cast across the cave walls from the fires, focusing on anything other than this big, blue alien and his intense stares and his easy smiles and his charming words and his boisterous laughter and his stupid gentle touches to her shoulder.

She tries to focus on being back on that spaceship with her sisters, back to what she left behind on earth. Tries to focus on every barely sutured wound, every chink in her armor weighing her down and promising to pull her under. Tries to focus on the sorry bruised and battered state of her heart, not even close to worthy of being offered over.

Cassian switches his attention to her other shoulder, fingers still tracing those soft, aimless patterns. The shuddering breath that tumbles past Nesta’s lips sounds too loud even to her own ears, but his touches don’t falter, and she swallows hard, forcing herself to find her voice again.

“Freckles,” she breathes, turning her head enough that she can meet his gaze. It’s a mistake, their faces now close together, but she pushes on anyway. “They’re places where the skin goes darker. Often from the sun.”

“Free-kels,” Cassian repeats, his brows dipping as he focuses on speaking the word.

Nesta snorts amusedly at the pronunciation attempt. “Close enough.”

Cassian drops his gaze back to her shoulder, his fingers resuming their movements. “Your sisters have them too.”

“Yes. Feyre on her nose, and Elain on her cheeks. I have mine on my shoulders.”

“I like them.”

He says the words so genuinely, almost reverently, and Nesta’s heart gives a traitorous squeeze in her chest. That tightness only seems to grow when Cassian shifts his head, his mouth brushing along the same path his fingers had traced moments before. Nesta closes her eyes, letting the feeling wash over her, but her eyes snap back open again when Cassian’s hand skates across her cheek. She blinks in surprise at the tear he caught, not even realizing it had slipped free.

“I’m sorry,” Cassian murmurs, shifting away from her.

The loss of his presence and his warmth is jarring, the cold seeping in around her and sinking its claws into her. She wraps her arms tightly around herself, her bottom lip finding home between her teeth.

“I had this boyfriend back on earth,” Nesta begins, her voice quiet. She’s not sure where the need to tell him comes from, but once she starts, the words continue to flow out of her. “Sort of like a pleasure mate, I guess. But he was… cruel. He was awful. He made me feel weak. And when I finally left him, I swore to myself that I would never feel weak again. But I did. On that spaceship. Waking up there and seeing Elain and Feyre and knowing there was nothing I could do to save them. That I couldn’t save them. I felt just as powerless again. I want to stop feeling weak and powerless.”

Cassian reaches across the space between them, settling his hand overs and stopping her from twisting her fingers into knots. “I could train you, if you want. Teach you how to use our hunting weapons, so you can always protect yourself. So you will always feel strong.”

For a moment, Nesta can do nothing but stare at him, her heart lodged firmly in her throat and tangling with the words there. This is a ledge, one that she can’t come back from if she steps off it, and the ground is shaky beneath her feet. If Cassian picks up on her trepidation, he doesn’t let on. He merely watches her quietly, patiently, his thumb sliding almost soothingly along the back of her hand.

“And what if I decide to use those skills to fight you?” Nesta teases lightly, hoping to steer the conversation back to familiarity, to steady footing.

“Then I would know that I trained you well,” Cassian tells her sincerely. “I would be proud of you.”

Nesta pulls her hands free from Cassian’s touch, turning her attention fully back to the fire. “You should be resting. You shouldn’t be up. You’re still healing.”

Cassian lets out a soft sigh, but Nesta can’t bear to turn and look at him, to see the expression she’s sure is on his face. She hears him move away, the shuffles as he moves back toward the furs. She bites her lip to keep it from trembling, grabbing her shirt and yanking it back on.

“What is your plan then?” Cassian asks from behind her. “We will have to go back to the main cave.”

“I know,” Nesta murmurs, curling her knees up against her chest.

“Rhys is a good leader. He will not force… it will be your choice, but we will not be able to keep it a secret any longer. Everyone will know that we have resonated.”

“Maybe just you should go back to the cave then. Then, no one will know your mate is the scary one.”

“You think that is what I wish?”

Nesta lets out a dry, mocking laugh, whirling around to face him. “It’s what you should want. There’s something wrong with me.”

Cassian frowns, tilting his head curiously. “Are you well, Nes? We will have Madja speak with your khui. We will fix it.”

“You don’t get it,” Nesta huffs frustrated, barely stopping her eye roll. “You can’t fix it. They can’t even fix it back on earth. It’s… it’s inside my head. In my mind.”

Cassian’s expression is pained as he watches her, like his own heart is breaking at the admission. He hesitates for a second before closing the distance between them again, his hands reaching up to frame her face. He presses his forehead against hers, each touch so gentle, so caring, and Nesta’s vision starts to blur.

“Then tell me how I can help. Tell me how to ease this pain in your head.”

Nesta shakes her head, swallowing down a choked sob before it can escape. “I’m telling you. You can’t. I’m broken.”

“I refuse to believe that,” Cassian tells her fiercely, his thumbs catching every tear that slips free and slides down her cheeks. “Because there is nothing broken to fix.”

“You just don’t understand,” Nesta scoffs.

“And you do not see what I see. I know that you are hurting. That these males in your past have hurt you. But I see how you still walk with your head held high. You are still so strong. I see how fiercely you care for your sisters, that you would do anything for them. I see everything that you do at the cave and everything that you are doing now, and I am honored that my khui has chosen you as my mate.”

Nesta pulls her face free from Cassian’s grip, scrubbing the back of her hand against her cheeks. “I thought I told you to rest.”

“You need to rest too.”

“I will.”

Cassian scrutinizes her for a moment, but when he finally seems satisfied with what he sees, he nods his head. He moves back over to the furs, but rather than slip beneath them, he begins to rearrange them, fluffing them up, preparing them.

“What are you doing?” Nesta demands even though she already knows the answer. “Cassian.”

“I will not have my mate be cold,” Cassian explains, as if it’s that simple, shifting the furs closer to the fire.

“I’m not the one who’s injured. You’re still healing.”

“I do not care.”

Nesta rolls her eyes at that, crossing her arms across her chest. “Gods, you can be so stubborn, did you know that?”

“Then we are evenly matched,” Cassian tells her, meeting her gaze head on.

Nesta sighs, already knowing she’s going to regret this. “Fine. We can share. Then everyone wins. Just… just don’t make it weird.”

Cassian’s expression betrays nothing, but he gestures toward the furs for her to go first. With another roll of her eyes, Nesta moves and slips beneath the furs. She shifts as far to the edge as she can, keeping her back to Cassian as he clambers beneath the furs beside her. She relaxes once he’s settled, but it’s short lived when his arms reach out and curl around her, tugging her back into his chest.

“Cassian,” Nesta warns between clenched teeth.

“I am not making it weird. I am merely helping to keep you warm.”

It's a lie and they both know it. Especially with the way his hand flexes against her waist, his arms tightening. As though he's afraid she'll disappear on him, as though he's desperate to keep her here in his embrace just a little bit longer. And maybe Nesta should call him out on it, maybe it makes her selfish, but she allows herself to sink back into him, allows her eyes to flutter closed, allows his warmth and the security of his arms around her and the steady beat of his heart at her back lull her into blissful sleep.

—

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