#saranyssa

Nyssa’s thumb is soft where it strokes across her cheek, finds her skin warm and familiar and alive. She swallows, tries to remember her place. “My father is dead,” she says. "All debts have been forgotten.” Nyssa is slow to pull her hands away, to let go of what she had thought so thoroughly, irrevocably lost.

Sara’s hands take hers, hold them in that in-between space of towards and away. “You’re not here to chase me down?” Sara asks, and she looks into Nyssa’s eyes now, searches for the truth. “You’re not going to drag me back and make me kill?” She shakes. “I don’t… I don’t want to be that anymore. Not again.”

Nyssa had heard about what had transpired, had believed in all but Sara’s true return until only a moment ago. “You don’t need to be, Sara.”

Sara lets out a shuddering breath. “I missed you, you know,” she murmurs. “When I left.”

Chest tight and breath held, Nyssa presses on. “Do you still?”

Sara blinks, and she lets Nyssa’s hands nearly slip from hers, makes the choice easy. “Do I need to?”

It takes Nyssa a few seconds to understand, to realize that this is no dream or trick meant to break her heart all over again—enough to take the chance, at least. Her face breaks into a smile. “Never again,” she says, although it is a lie. She doesn’t hesitate, tightening her grip, closing the distance before Sara can process it.

Nyssa kisses Sara like she’d kill for her—

No.

It is one of the reasons that Nyssa’s father would rather have killed her after Nyssa had found her. Sara had been huddled behind a stack of pallets in the abandoned warehouse, the fresh gunshot having left a resounding silence broken only by the girl’s whimper.

It had been pity then, perhaps, but it is love that keeps her here.

Nyssa takes the gun from Sara’s hands, afraid that her father will see the tremble in them otherwise.

“Next one will be through the head,” Ra’s assures, stepping in only once the man has been removed, sent home as a warning of what fate will befall those who question the al Ghuls.

He is not talking about this man now, but of Sara’s next task. Nyssa’s posture stiffens, but her head is held high. “She will do you proud, Father,” Nyssa tells him.

Sara does not speak, and she is of yet unable to hold his gaze.

“She must,” Ra’s warns with a sneer, but then he’s gone again.

Nyssa swipes the tears from Sara’s eyes, shelters the girl from sight. She waits until Sara can dare to look at her and presses a gentle kiss to Sara’s lips.