Breccan+Nico Fic - All That I Have Done
Moar AU fanfic from Nico's POV. I really, really, really gotta stop with the fanfic, oops. Anyway, this one takes place some unspecified time after Remorse.
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I lean against my locker, trying not to let my thoughts swallow me whole. Insomnia still plagues me. It’s no more than I deserve, but I’m going to be no use to anyone if I’m too tired to even think.
Despite the futility of it all, I want to be useful to someone. Maybe then I can make up, even a little bit, for all that I have done. Unfortunately, I haven’t got any real skills for helping people. I have destructive magic and those awful powers, as well as some other abilities. It all amounts to nothing I know I how to use for good.
That hasn’t stopped me from trying to be Breccan’s friend. I know it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t have anybody else. Nobody he can talk to, anyway. As strange as it is, he does seem grateful for my company. He’s no longer terrified of me, though sometimes I wonder if that’s a mistake on his part. How good have I become, really? I sigh and stare at the ceiling, though it holds no answers.
I know I’m not perfectly good; I haven’t been able to quash my feelings for Breccan, despite knowing how deeply wrong they are. He doesn’t deserve that kind of burden. While I have these terrible feelings, at least I will never tell him about them. That’s small comfort, as I have to doubt the purity of my motives for befriending him. Am I only trying to help because I hope he will fall into my arms someday?
A familiar noise distracts me from my brooding -- it’s Breccan. He approaches me, and I can see he’s been crying -- tears streak his lovely face. I want to reach out for him, but I don’t trust myself.
“What happened?” I murmur.
He leans against the lockers. Again, he looks so small, and my heart breaks to see it.
“I -- did what you said. S-saw the school counselor, Mrs. Nelson. Told her -- everything. About -- about what Egan’s done to me,” he whispers, his voice cracking.
From the sound of it, it didn’t go well. “And?” I prompt, not sure I want the answer.
“She -- she br-brushed me off. Told me I was -- blowing it all out of proportion. Even -- even told me I was so upset because I -- I felt guilty for ch-cheating on Finbar,” he says. His eyes shine with more tears.
My mind can’t process it. That reaction doesn’t make any sense. What kind of counselor dismisses someone’s feelings like that? I feel my jaw drop. “What? Are you serious?” I breathe.
Breccan nods, whimpering slightly. “I’m serious.”
“That’s terrible. I’m -- I’m sorry,” I say. I still can’t believe it.
While I try to think of something more helpful to say, footsteps approach us. Reluctantly, I turn to look towards them. My eyes widen when I see who it is -- Gemma, of all people. She’s wearing a deadly serious expression. My stomach sinks as I remember the last time we interacted. I tried to seduce her, and she -- most deservedly -- punched me. My face burns at the memory, and I wonder -- what does she want? Does she want to talk to Breccan?
“Nico, I need to talk to you. Now,” she mutters.
“Me?” I wonder.
“I just said I need to talk to you,” she mutters, one hand on her hip, “and it’s fucking important.” If I’m not wrong, there’s a hint of panic in her voice.
I nod. “Okay,” I murmur. I turn to Breccan. “I’m sorry -- I’ll be back soon, I hope,” I tell him. He nods in response.
Though I’m as confused as anything, I follow Gemma to a somewhat secluded corner. I don’t dare object, not with the way her eyes are flashing with a feeling I don’t quite understand.
“What is it?” I ask, avoiding those eyes.
“Do you want a chance to make up for what you did?” she says. I can feel her eyes burn into me.
Her words take a moment to sink in. “Do I what?” I murmur. How can she offer that, and why would she want to?
“You seem all repentant, if Egan’s muttering and moping is to be believed. That bastard thinks you’ve ‘gone crazy.’ While I don’t trust him -- or you -- I have an offer for you,” she says. She takes a deep breath and her voice shakes as she says, “Look, Lynie’s trapped in the Glass House, and I can’t get her out.”
Her distress shows on her face, but I don’t think I understand her. “The Glass House?” I say.
“I assume you know what that is? My sister Ruby trapped her there, and I will die if I can’t get her out. But I’m not a mage, though I should be, so I can’t even get close” she mutters. Gemma’s trembling and her face is a bit flushed.
After several long moments, her words start to sink in. “And you want me to get her?”
“I need you to. You want a chance to show you’re more than a divine scumbag like Egan, don’t you? If you rescue Lynie, it will pay back some of your massive debt to society for thinking we mortals were just your fucking playthings,” she says. Her eyes flash.
I know the stories of the Glass House all too well. It’s a dangerous place, and we gods are told to avoid it. We can enter if we want, but it’s not advised because of the trauma it can cause. I would never go there of my own volition, but Gemma’s offer? I have to take it if it will help me repay my debts.
“You want to deserve Breccan, right?” she says.
My heart stops, and then it starts hammering. Gods’ hearts are funny things. They don’t need to beat, yet they can hammer like a mortal’s does when we’re surprised. And I’m definitely surprised now. How does Gemma even know about my feelings? “Wh-what?” I say.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I know you like him. It’s disgustingly obvious to anybody who isn’t, well, him,” she mutters. “And, worse, I think he likes you, too. No fucking accounting for taste. Or sense.”
My face burns yet again, and the shame of my feelings makes my stomach sink. Whatever she says, I doubt Breccan likes me like that. Why would he? Gemma makes a strange face. “I know my feelings are wrong,” I sigh. “I’ll do what you ask. And Breccan will never know how I -- love him.”
“Nico?”
That voice -- it’s Breccan.
“You -- forgot your book,” he murmurs. I turn around -- maybe he didn’t hear anything we said. When I see his face, it’s a definite red. Oh no.
“Do you -- mean it? That you -- love me?” he wonders, his eyes wide.
“I mean it, but you weren’t supposed to hear. You were never supposed to know,” I sigh.
“I gotta go. Nico, don’t you try anything,” Gemma mutters, her eyes flashing in warning. As if I would try anything on Breccan, ever. She leaves before I can respond.
Breccan hands me my book. I take it and turn away. There’s no way to salvage our friendship now. Something grabs my shoulder, and I can’t move forward. I turn my head around, shocked -- Breccan has his hand on me. I don’t understand.
“Don’t go,” he murmurs.
He lets go of me as I turn around to face him. This doesn’t make any sense.
“Why wouldn’t you say anything about how you felt? Why hide it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not quite meeting my eye, and his face is still red.
The reason for my silence should be obvious. I try to gather my thoughts. “I -- shouldn’t be with anybody, let alone someone as sweet and good as you are,” I say.
“You really think so much of me?” he asks, like he can’t believe it.
What is he saying? That isn’t the response I expected at all. “Yes, I think ‘so much’ of you, but that -- isn’t the point,” I sigh. I have to resist the urge to bury my face in my hands. “I’m corrupt. Evil. I don’t deserve you.”
“What?” Breccan breathes, sounding truly incredulous. “You’re not evil.” He looks right at me, and I want to disappear under the intensity of that beautiful gaze. “I know what you’ve done, what you are. There is still good in you. I wouldn’t -- return your feelings, wouldn’t love you, if you were truly evil,” he says.
“Excuse me?” I say. My eyes sting, and tears start to fall down my face. “You can’t possibly --”
“I can,” he murmurs. He lifts his hand and brushes some of the tears away. My eyes widen -- I can’t move. Breccan doesn’t drop his hand -- he leave it resting on my face while he keeps looking into my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would swear he had seduction powers, with the way electricity runs through me.
He leans forward, and his lips meet mine.
This cannot be happening. I must be imagining things, but I’m not. It feels too real for that. The strangely human warmth that rushes through me is no hallucination. I close my eyes and return the kiss -- I’ve wanted this for far too long.
Even so, I know it won’t last because I don’t deserve it. For this moment, I’ll let myself cling to the love and happiness Breccan is offering me, but, soon, I’ll break the kiss.
Breccan deserves better than I can ever offer him, no matter what he feels for me.
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I lean against my locker, trying not to let my thoughts swallow me whole. Insomnia still plagues me. It’s no more than I deserve, but I’m going to be no use to anyone if I’m too tired to even think.
Despite the futility of it all, I want to be useful to someone. Maybe then I can make up, even a little bit, for all that I have done. Unfortunately, I haven’t got any real skills for helping people. I have destructive magic and those awful powers, as well as some other abilities. It all amounts to nothing I know I how to use for good.
That hasn’t stopped me from trying to be Breccan’s friend. I know it’s a bad idea, but he doesn’t have anybody else. Nobody he can talk to, anyway. As strange as it is, he does seem grateful for my company. He’s no longer terrified of me, though sometimes I wonder if that’s a mistake on his part. How good have I become, really? I sigh and stare at the ceiling, though it holds no answers.
I know I’m not perfectly good; I haven’t been able to quash my feelings for Breccan, despite knowing how deeply wrong they are. He doesn’t deserve that kind of burden. While I have these terrible feelings, at least I will never tell him about them. That’s small comfort, as I have to doubt the purity of my motives for befriending him. Am I only trying to help because I hope he will fall into my arms someday?
A familiar noise distracts me from my brooding -- it’s Breccan. He approaches me, and I can see he’s been crying -- tears streak his lovely face. I want to reach out for him, but I don’t trust myself.
“What happened?” I murmur.
He leans against the lockers. Again, he looks so small, and my heart breaks to see it.
“I -- did what you said. S-saw the school counselor, Mrs. Nelson. Told her -- everything. About -- about what Egan’s done to me,” he whispers, his voice cracking.
From the sound of it, it didn’t go well. “And?” I prompt, not sure I want the answer.
“She -- she br-brushed me off. Told me I was -- blowing it all out of proportion. Even -- even told me I was so upset because I -- I felt guilty for ch-cheating on Finbar,” he says. His eyes shine with more tears.
My mind can’t process it. That reaction doesn’t make any sense. What kind of counselor dismisses someone’s feelings like that? I feel my jaw drop. “What? Are you serious?” I breathe.
Breccan nods, whimpering slightly. “I’m serious.”
“That’s terrible. I’m -- I’m sorry,” I say. I still can’t believe it.
While I try to think of something more helpful to say, footsteps approach us. Reluctantly, I turn to look towards them. My eyes widen when I see who it is -- Gemma, of all people. She’s wearing a deadly serious expression. My stomach sinks as I remember the last time we interacted. I tried to seduce her, and she -- most deservedly -- punched me. My face burns at the memory, and I wonder -- what does she want? Does she want to talk to Breccan?
“Nico, I need to talk to you. Now,” she mutters.
“Me?” I wonder.
“I just said I need to talk to you,” she mutters, one hand on her hip, “and it’s fucking important.” If I’m not wrong, there’s a hint of panic in her voice.
I nod. “Okay,” I murmur. I turn to Breccan. “I’m sorry -- I’ll be back soon, I hope,” I tell him. He nods in response.
Though I’m as confused as anything, I follow Gemma to a somewhat secluded corner. I don’t dare object, not with the way her eyes are flashing with a feeling I don’t quite understand.
“What is it?” I ask, avoiding those eyes.
“Do you want a chance to make up for what you did?” she says. I can feel her eyes burn into me.
Her words take a moment to sink in. “Do I what?” I murmur. How can she offer that, and why would she want to?
“You seem all repentant, if Egan’s muttering and moping is to be believed. That bastard thinks you’ve ‘gone crazy.’ While I don’t trust him -- or you -- I have an offer for you,” she says. She takes a deep breath and her voice shakes as she says, “Look, Lynie’s trapped in the Glass House, and I can’t get her out.”
Her distress shows on her face, but I don’t think I understand her. “The Glass House?” I say.
“I assume you know what that is? My sister Ruby trapped her there, and I will die if I can’t get her out. But I’m not a mage, though I should be, so I can’t even get close” she mutters. Gemma’s trembling and her face is a bit flushed.
After several long moments, her words start to sink in. “And you want me to get her?”
“I need you to. You want a chance to show you’re more than a divine scumbag like Egan, don’t you? If you rescue Lynie, it will pay back some of your massive debt to society for thinking we mortals were just your fucking playthings,” she says. Her eyes flash.
I know the stories of the Glass House all too well. It’s a dangerous place, and we gods are told to avoid it. We can enter if we want, but it’s not advised because of the trauma it can cause. I would never go there of my own volition, but Gemma’s offer? I have to take it if it will help me repay my debts.
“You want to deserve Breccan, right?” she says.
My heart stops, and then it starts hammering. Gods’ hearts are funny things. They don’t need to beat, yet they can hammer like a mortal’s does when we’re surprised. And I’m definitely surprised now. How does Gemma even know about my feelings? “Wh-what?” I say.
She narrows her eyes at me. “I know you like him. It’s disgustingly obvious to anybody who isn’t, well, him,” she mutters. “And, worse, I think he likes you, too. No fucking accounting for taste. Or sense.”
My face burns yet again, and the shame of my feelings makes my stomach sink. Whatever she says, I doubt Breccan likes me like that. Why would he? Gemma makes a strange face. “I know my feelings are wrong,” I sigh. “I’ll do what you ask. And Breccan will never know how I -- love him.”
“Nico?”
That voice -- it’s Breccan.
“You -- forgot your book,” he murmurs. I turn around -- maybe he didn’t hear anything we said. When I see his face, it’s a definite red. Oh no.
“Do you -- mean it? That you -- love me?” he wonders, his eyes wide.
“I mean it, but you weren’t supposed to hear. You were never supposed to know,” I sigh.
“I gotta go. Nico, don’t you try anything,” Gemma mutters, her eyes flashing in warning. As if I would try anything on Breccan, ever. She leaves before I can respond.
Breccan hands me my book. I take it and turn away. There’s no way to salvage our friendship now. Something grabs my shoulder, and I can’t move forward. I turn my head around, shocked -- Breccan has his hand on me. I don’t understand.
“Don’t go,” he murmurs.
He lets go of me as I turn around to face him. This doesn’t make any sense.
“Why wouldn’t you say anything about how you felt? Why hide it?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. He’s not quite meeting my eye, and his face is still red.
The reason for my silence should be obvious. I try to gather my thoughts. “I -- shouldn’t be with anybody, let alone someone as sweet and good as you are,” I say.
“You really think so much of me?” he asks, like he can’t believe it.
What is he saying? That isn’t the response I expected at all. “Yes, I think ‘so much’ of you, but that -- isn’t the point,” I sigh. I have to resist the urge to bury my face in my hands. “I’m corrupt. Evil. I don’t deserve you.”
“What?” Breccan breathes, sounding truly incredulous. “You’re not evil.” He looks right at me, and I want to disappear under the intensity of that beautiful gaze. “I know what you’ve done, what you are. There is still good in you. I wouldn’t -- return your feelings, wouldn’t love you, if you were truly evil,” he says.
“Excuse me?” I say. My eyes sting, and tears start to fall down my face. “You can’t possibly --”
“I can,” he murmurs. He lifts his hand and brushes some of the tears away. My eyes widen -- I can’t move. Breccan doesn’t drop his hand -- he leave it resting on my face while he keeps looking into my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I would swear he had seduction powers, with the way electricity runs through me.
He leans forward, and his lips meet mine.
This cannot be happening. I must be imagining things, but I’m not. It feels too real for that. The strangely human warmth that rushes through me is no hallucination. I close my eyes and return the kiss -- I’ve wanted this for far too long.
Even so, I know it won’t last because I don’t deserve it. For this moment, I’ll let myself cling to the love and happiness Breccan is offering me, but, soon, I’ll break the kiss.
Breccan deserves better than I can ever offer him, no matter what he feels for me.