004.
The conversation after Zoe had come to was strange, to say the least.
Upon being informed of her sudden consciousness, Ava had immediately abandoned her original quest to locate Vanya’s phone number to rush to Zoe’s room. When she got there, however, things did not go as she’d expected they would.
“Ava? Is that you?” questioned Zoe drowsily as Ava spoke with the doctor overseeing her.
“Mmhmm.” she answered curtly, giving her sister a reassuring nod before turning back to the doctor attempting to update her on Zoe’s condition. She’d just been in the middle of notifying her of some of the symptoms to the sedative they’d administered when as if on cue, Zoe exhibited one herself—catching Ava off-guard when she grabbed her hand without warning.
“Are you an angel?” came her abrupt inquisition, a dazed smile appearing on her face. Chuckling lightly at the absurdity of this and her situation in general, Ava shook her head, ‘no.’
“No, I’m your sister.” she clarified, giving Zoe’s hand a gentle squeeze prior to letting it go.
“Ha, nice try—I can totally see your wings.” argued the hazy girl with a grin of pride painting her lips. Laughing again, Ava went to respond a second time but was swiftly interrupted by the kind doctor.
“That was about all I needed to inform you on—I’ll let you two catch up,” she said, excusing herself from the room.
Now alone once more, this time with the added pressure of making actual conversation—Ava decided to save the Hargreeves-talk for when Zoe was better able to answer and instead find out where she’d been all this time.
“Hey, Zoe—” Ava began, turning to face her sister once again.
“What’re you doing all the way over there? Come sit with me.” Zoe interjected with a kind, but puzzled expression, scooting over and patting the new space next to her. Blowing out a deep breath, she took a second to compose herself before joining her on the small twin bed. It was like being a kid all over again—when particularly heavy storms rolled in—Ava would find herself being woken by a frightened plea from her sister to let her sleep next to her for the rest of the night. Then, feeling an arm curl around her shoulder, it really did feel like she was there now—but when she heard sniffles and the beginnings of labored breaths, she remembered at once that she wasn’t.
“Zoe? Hey, what’s wrong? It’s okay—shh, shh,” Ava cooed, wrapping Zoe’s crying form in her arms, amazed and alarmed at how thin she’d become.
“Oh, Ava—I’m sorry—I’m so sorry…” the frail girl whimpered into her chest, staining her teal-blue scrubs with her tears.
“For what?” inquired Ava, too concerned with the nature of Zoe’s physical declination to bother with any past wrongdoings she might’ve committed towards her. Lifting her head to stare her dead in the eye, wholly incensed with frantic emotion, Zoe put it as simply as possible,
“For everything.”
~
“Out.” Ava snapped, slamming the door loudly behind her. Making her way down the steps to her building’s front exit, she knew exactly where she was making her first stop, and to her great relief, Zoe did not follow.
Stepping out into the brisk autumn air, Ava tugged the worn leather jacket she’d come to treasure more than anything else she owned and set off in search of a very special place. The Crest Library on 5th Avenue.
“Ava! Hey, haven’t seen you in a while.” greeted the kindly old librarian with a smile upon her entrance into the building. Ava smiled back—recollections of all the times past she and Ben had come in together. Him, always in the mood to devour as many titles as possible in the limited time they had on any given Saturday while she was content simply watching him browse or listening to him read quietly in one of its many cozy nooks. For almost a year succeeding his death, she had adamantly refused to set foot in it—returning only when the day that marked its first anniversary rolled around.
“Hi, Mrs. Kitcher.” she replied politely, knowing exactly what her follow-up would be. She had seen just how distraught Ava had looked on that dreadful day the year before and offered to help her in any way she could.
“You need any help finding anything today?” the greying woman questioned, tone warm and sincere.
“No, I think I’ll be alright this time—but thank you for asking, it means a lot.” Ava admitted, a weak simper playing on her lips.
Clutching the book she’d decided upon tightly against her chest, Ava walked on—stopping when she reached a familiar flower-stand. The man who ran it had done so for years and though his aging mind had begun to trouble him with remembering things—she was pleasantly surprised to find that he knew what she was looking for the moment her name clicked in his head. A bouquet of deep-red roses. Ben was always a fan of the classics.
Continuing on her trip down memory lane, doing a quick walkthrough the local park to stand by the white stone bench she and Ben always used to watch the ducks from, when it actually came time to go to his grave, Ava felt her heart weighing more than usual in her chest. As if avoiding the house itself wasn’t a great ordeal in the first place—actively seeking it out was even worse. Keeping her head down as she turned the corner onto the courtyard entrance—hands already chilled by the biting-cold air, she was none more grateful to see the gate had been left unlocked. Whether the act was intentional or not, she couldn’t say, but she was grateful, nonetheless. Dead leaves crackling beneath her boots, Ava allowed herself no time to prepare for the sight of that ghastly statue that stood ominously above her lost lover’s grave. She didn’t think it even really looked like him—much less that Ben would’ve liked it anyway. Its face did not remind her in the slightest of the boy she’d fallen in love with for he never looked as stoic or emotionless as whoever made the call to sculpt him that way. Even so, she supposed it was nice to have something like him to speak to.
“H-hey, Benny.” Ava began shakily, eyes unable to maintain contact with the figure for more than a few seconds at a time. Setting the roses at its feet, she stood back, book held firmly in her grasp. ‘The Complete Poems of Anna Akhmatova.’ For weeks before the fateful incident, she had known he’d been searching desperately for a copy—Russia being the only place that distributed them. On one of the many days they had spent swapping titles in the library, when she’d handed an abridged version over to him, he was incensed—not setting it down until he finished it. “I know I was a mess last time I came to visit but I swear I’m going to finish reading this to you no matter what.” she promised, determination in her voice as she sat down—doing her best to ignore the sharp pang of frozen dirt nipping at her legs and creeping up the rest of her body. And that she did.
Ava read and read—sure her lips must’ve resembled that of freeze-dried blueberries once she’d reached the very last poem. The world around her had hardly changed in the time it took, it seemed—though she guessed it had been at least a few hours or so since she started. Flipping to the final page in the lengthy book, and pooling all the strength she had left in her throat, she recited it:
The Sentence
And the stone word fell
On my still-living breast.
Never mind, I was ready.
I will manage somehow.
Today I have so much to do:
I must kill memory once and for all,
I must turn my soul to stone,
I must learn to live again—
Unless… Summer’s ardent rustling
Is like a festival outside my window.
For a long time I’ve foreseen this
Brilliant day, deserted house
‘Brilliant day,’ she wasn’t so convinced—but in closing the hardcover, Ava felt a certain odd peace wash over her—though she wondered if that was just a touch of hypothermia beginning to set in. In any case, she was cognizant that it was about time to head back home and deal with any blowback Zoe had in store for her. But for one moment more, she could pretend she didn’t—rising to her feet and leaving his supposed likeness with these brief, parting words,
“I don’t know if you can hear me, Ben but… I want you to know I love you—I always will.”
Stretching out her walk home as long as she could, Ava found herself pausing when she happened upon a tattoo parlor, she must’ve passed a million times before. It wasn’t as if she had never thought of possibly getting one but until then, none of her ideas had ever fueled her with the same sense of urgency as the one in her mind did now. Reaching into her front pants pocket for her wallet, she narrowed her eyes with purpose at the small scrap of paper that was Ben’s last note to her…
~
Night slowly creeping up on her, Ava felt lucky to have reached her apartment building before all the light in the day had vanished. Going to unlock the door with her key, she was numb to see Zoe render her attempt null in void, standing solemnly in its frame. The wounded-puppy-dog-look—a classic move.
"Ava, I—" she began, but she would have none of it, moving quickly towards the bathroom. Obviously not the best hide-out, but at least it had a lock.
"Not now, Zoe—I just want to be alone right now." came Ava’s retort, hand on the doorknob.
"Wait!" Zoe pleaded, catching her by the wrist. Ava faced her, gaze skeptical and tired. "Can I please just have a moment to explain myself? I promise it'll be quick.”
Ava considered this, looking down and shaking her head lightly, unsure as to whether she really wanted to hear what her sister had to say.
"You don't need to, Zoe—" she tried to give her an easy-out, but it seemed Zoe wouldn’t accept it, dragging her over in a flash to sit on the sofa.
"Yes, I do.” she insisted, taking in a breath. “My behavior earlier today was atrocious. Your feelings are far more important than any silly old theatre tickets. God, I'm so sorry, Ava, you must think I'm the worst sister ever..." Zoe sniffled, tears welling in her eyes as she turned her face away. Frowning, Ava’s previous resolve crumbled at the image.
"Hey, no—I don't, and you're not. Everyone forgets things sometimes." she conceded, scooting closer to Zoe, and placing a hand over hers. "Besides, I may have overreacted a tad—it's just this day, I don't think I'll really be able to enjoy it ever again..." Ava confessed, heart aching in her chest.
"Oh, c'mon that's not true—I'm sure you will...” comforted Zoe, trailing off until another thought entered her mind. “Ooh! I could wipe your memory of it if you want?" she offered with a distastefully blithe smile. Ava could hardly believe what she’d just heard, recoiling from her touch at once.
"Of what, Zoe? Ben's death?" she demanded; disgust clear on her face.
"Well if you want me to, I could certainly try—” explained Zoe, as if she had just been asked for help doing someone’s hair. Ava rolled her eyes with a scoff, getting up from the couch and storming off in the direction of the bedroom. "Ava, I was joking! I don't even think that'd work!" she tried to defend herself, watching as her twin rifled through their closet in frantic search of something—pausing only to glare at her and say,
"The fact that you can ‘joke,’ about something like that tells me you really don't think it's that serious at all—and for that, I need a drink." Ava declared, what she’d been seeking in her grasp at last—a bright, eye-catching red-rubber party dress. If there was one thing, she had learned from the occasional night sneaking into clubs with Klaus, it was they always let pretty girls in—no matter their age. A frightful fact, but useful, nonetheless. Tearing off her top to put on the convincing outfit, it was when Zoe gasped that she was reminded of one of her earlier activities that day.
"What the hell is that?!" she shrieked, pointing to the large bandage on the left side of her chest.
"Nothing—can you shut the door? There's a draft." Ava dismissed, throwing on the dress as if there really were nothing to be shocked about. Glancing in the mirror as she zipped herself up, straining slightly to get to the very top, she wondered if she actually wanted to go out drinking or not.
"Not until you tell me what happened!" Zoe ordered, grabbing her by the shoulder and spinning her around so they were facing each other once more.
"Hey—get off me!" Ava cried, struggling to get away under her firm hold when she felt an abrupt sting of pain rippling through her skin. "OW!" she yelped, whimpering when the sudden uptick in air on her freshly marked flesh amplified the burning sensation. Ben, it read in his distinct handwriting.
"You got a tattoo?! Without telling me?!" raved Zoe, bringing Ava back to reality.
"Yup, sure did!" she taunted, gesticulating with a sarcastic grin, wincing when she went to retrieve some accompanying heels from under her bed.
"You really have gone off the rails..." remarked Zoe, monotone and rather matter-of-factly. Ava laughed in disbelief, rising up to meet her with a steely gaze.
"’I've gone off the rails?’ Me? Well, if I'm off the rails, you are in a completely different station!" she countered the room with flair, Ben’s jacket slung over her shoulder.
"Ava, you're not going out like that," she heard Zoe, a warning tone in her voice.
"Oh, aren't I?" Ava dismissed this, proceeding to the front door.
"Ava!" she felt a hand clamp down onto her arm, but swiftly, she yanked it back and gave her own word of caution,
"Don't follow me." turning back towards chosen path, it was the next sentence Zoe uttered that zapped all her prior aloofness and reduced it into deep, unbridled rage.
"Ben wouldn't have wanted to see you like this." they slithered off her tongue so nonchalantly, as if they had been lying in wait there all along.
"What?" Ava had to look at her, to make sure the person she was seeing was still human and not some emotionless robot built up solely to knock her down. Though if you’d have told her that, that was the truth—she would feel inclined to believe it, now more than ever.
“Oh god, Ava—I didn't mean it like—" Zoe stammered, getting cut off almost instantly.
"No, no—I know exactly how you meant it. Don't. Just don't.” Ava, in spite of the venom threatening to fly from her mouth, swallowed all her anger—voice even with noticeable disappointment. Silence prevailing, she took it as the perfect end to the discussion, but Zoe did not, it appeared.
"Ava, I'm—"
"No!” Ava spat, about sick to death of excuses and lies. “You have no idea what he would've wanted because all you care about is yourself! You didn't care about him!" the whole of her was trembling, words and all as she let the last stones fall, "...and you don't care about me."
"Oh c'mon, you know that's not true!” Zoe still went on hopelessly. “You're not well—come on, let's just go sit down and talk about this,” it was strange to see her so desperate.
"What's there to say?" Ava posed, her disposition to the notion made clear. Lip quivering, she could tell just by looking at Zoe what her next move would be.
"Ava, please don't make me—"
"Make you what?! Knock me out—erase my memory? You know it's so easy to delude yourself into thinking you're in the right when the other person can't even remember half the shit you've pulled." Ava snarled, hands balling up into fists. "Well, I'm sick of it! I can't be around you anymore. Either I move out or you do. I don't really care which." and with that, she fled. Where she would go that night didn’t matter in that moment—anywhere far from Zoe would be good enough for her. What she didn’t expect was that would be the last time she would see her—for a very long time…
~
“’Everything,’ huh?” Ava muttered, staring ahead contemplatively, Zoe still cuddled snuggly against her chest. Maybe today had been a brilliant one, after all…