Work Text:
Cold burrowed into Marshanna's bones, snowflakes burning into her flesh as the morning sun began to burst over the horizon. Its icy rays caused her shadow to blacken behind her on the outside walls of her and Nort's shared home. Under the unforgiving light her hands illuminated, each small callous scrutinized under the light. They were evidence of her sins—the sin of her work that was once dedicated to creating the mechanical bosses. Her hands had crafted the machines which tore through the ground, perfectly tuned for death and destruction; her life work was one of death, and her creation was one of destruction.
But the worst part is the machine she labored loyally on—for, even if she was forced into the process, she treated them with the care she gave all inventions—had tore through more than the Earth and imaginary victims. It tore through Nort. Her own creation nearly destroyed her closest friend. But, no. He was more than that. He was someone she couldn't bear to lose. Especially by her own hands.
Pulling her from her thoughts, the door next to her squeaked open, and Heather, the nurse, walked out. Her tired eyes glanced down to where Marshanna sat, a small frown on her features.
“You can't stay out here forever; you're going to catch a cold.” A sigh edged her words. Although apparently sensing Marshanna wasn't going to heed her advice right away, she sat next to her. For a moment, the only sound in the frost-laced air was their soft breaths. However, when Marshanna couldn't bear the sound of her uninjured body anymore, she forced out the words building in the back of her throat.
“Is he okay?” She asked, only glancing at Heather as she spoke.
That's a dumb question. Of course, he isn't. You made sure anyone wouldn't be. You destroyed him. She silently answered, her fists slightly tightening. Behind her eyelids, images of Nort laying on the floor exploded in her mind. The destroyed had ripped through the snow, bursting force and flinging him in the air. Exactly as designed.
“With lots of rest, he's going to be fine.” When Marshanna looked at her, doubt still tainting her expression, Heather continued. “Trust me, I've bandaged up much worse on Player far too many times.”
“That's different.” Partly because Player was stronger than the rest of them combined, but, mostly, because they weren't Nort.
“I know, but you've been out here for hours. You being sick just adds more work to my plate,” Heather said light-heartedly, before softening her tone. “Besides, he'll be glad to see you.”
“Glad to see me? How can you think that? After he knows what I've done and how it hurt him, I should be the last person he wants to see.”
“The cultists forced you–”
“Even though they did, I could have made them easier to destroy. I could have made them weaker, Heather,” the confession spilled out, her voice slightly cracking, “but, I didn't.”
For a moment, the silence is brutal. Perhaps now that those words were in the air, Heather would never look at her the same way again. Instead, she would see the horrid truth exposed beneath like the wires of the death machines she built. But, then Heather spoke again, words soft.
“Everyone does things they're not proud of when they're trying to survive,” she placed a hand on Marshanna's shoulder for a second. “And that's what you were doing, Marshanna, surviving.”
Instead of replying, Marshanna allowed the words to hang in the frost-consumed air, trying to decipher if there was truth behind the statement. When the silence stretched for longer and longer, Heather eventually stood.
“It's getting late, and I need to get back home, but as my final orders for tonight, I'm telling you to keep surviving by going back inside, alright?”
To protest would have taken more energy than Marshanna currently had stored, so she forced herself onto her feet. Her bones felt like fragile slivers of ice, ready to snap at any given moment.
“Fine,” Marshanna said, her words forming clouds in the frost, as Heather opened her door for her. With a brief goodbye, Heather began the journey back to her home, leaving Marshanna alone with the gaping door behind her. The warmth called her inside, but as flashes of Nort filled her mind again, her legs begged to stay rooted.
I can't avoid this forever. Eventually, I've got to face my consequences. Whatever they are, I deserve them.
And thus, with a deep breath, she took a small step inside and attempted to quietly close the door behind her. However, the secret entrance didn't work, and a familiar voice caused her to freeze.
“Marshanna, there you are,” Nort said, voice tightened in pain and slow with tiredness. Slowly turning from the door, she peered back to where he was half-laid on the couch. His shirt was unbuttoned, exposing the medical gauze wrapped around his torso. A deep, vast bruise covered the side of his face, flesh torn in the middle of it. Automatically, her eyes shot down to the ground, her heart aching within.
“How bad does it hurt?” She eventually choked out.
“Pain is currently minimal. Heather gave me some pain medication.” That would explain the slight glaze in his eyes and small slur in his words.
“Good. I'll– I'll go up to my room now.”
“Wait… Stay.”
“Are you sure?” Marshanna blinked a few times, attempting to prove together his reasoning for the request.
“Completely so,” Nort replied as Marshanna took the seat next to the couch. As he was the one almost destroyed by the machine she built, it was only fair she granted his wish regardless of how confusing it may be.
He was a pacifist. Her creations could and would tear away lives. So why was he looking at her like… that? With a small smile and peace? It was too much to withstand, so she cracked.
“I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.” The beginning of tears burned in her eyes. “I promise I didn't want this, for you to be hurt. You should hate me now.”
“Hate you?”
“Of course. You know, don't you? You know enough about these things to know what I've done.” Although Nort nodded vaguely at her words, he didn't seem to properly grasp the weight behind them.
“I made them so strong and so able to kill because I could, because– because I could,” Marshanna started again, trying to get him to understand. “I've made things that could kill, and then I made more knowing what I've done.”
And that's all that's left, don't you understand? I've destroyed so much. The destruction and I are one in the same now..
“You've developed the most advanced machines I've witnessed, and now that you're here you can aid Player by creating more. No matter what your past holds, you care. How could I hate you for that? In fact, how could I do anything but the opposite?”
The opposite? She couldn't register what his words meant. She could hardly register anything at all under the scorching heat of his forgiveness, just the burn of cleansing flooding beneath her skin. It wasn't right. Not once had she done something to deserve this.
However, the logical thoughts of the obviousness of her sins didn't stop the words from slowing her pounding heart or causing the tears threatening to swell from drying. Breath returning to normal and exhaustion replacing the turmoil, Marshanna allowed her body to melt against the chair. Maybe she didn't deserve this, but it was the consequence Nort decided upon and she would accept it for his sake. One day, she prayed she would understand him as she understood the metal and gears of her creations. Perhaps she may even understand how he calmed her so effectively in the future. But for now, it was enough to bask in the mystery.
“There'll be more,” Marshanna finally broke the silence. “You know that, right?”
“I would never dare to expect any less,” he returned. The small smile on his face made her doubt if they were discussing the same topic anymore.
“What did it do?” For the first time, Marshanna truly examined the white bandages wrapping around his small frame. From underneath them, the bloom of dark bruises painted his skin. He was bruised and broken, but not destroyed. She swallowed the thoughts that threatened to overtake her at the sight.
“Only a few fractured ribs. Minimal damage, honestly.”
“You need rest, and you must've been up all night. I really shouldn't be keeping you up any later.”
“Reasonable, but still may I request you remain. Just until I enter my sleep cycle,” Nort returned, and by the way, his eyelids were already halfway closed Marshanna assumed that wouldn't be long.
“As long as you like,” Marshanna said. Her heart felt a sudden surge of electricity burrowing into it. And before she could halt the thought, the words came flooding into her mind.
Because I love you.
Heather once told her there was no special way to know once you've fallen, but it was just a knowledge that spawned one day, urging from the depths of a person and into their mind. Like most abstract concepts of humanity, the logic behind it eluded her. Until now. Now the logic behind the words was evident: there was none.
There were no wires, no metal, no tests to run. Just a messy tangle of emotions that felt like the eerie stillness in the middle of a storm. And it wasn't destruction.