Chapter Text
For some reason, there was something relaxing about this place.
Ava never thought she would come to like the fountain in Malaga. There was a small square, hidden in the center of the town, where a fountain splashed water that fell from a representation of St Michael. Ava had a vague memory of her mother's voice pointing to the fountain, explaining to her that passers-by threw small copper coins into the water in the hope that their wishes would come true.
They hadn't had time to throw a coin so that it ran aground at the bottom of the fountain. The car had hit them before.
Sitting on the edge of the fountain, Ava peacefully watched the children playing in the square, running after a soccer ball. Sometimes she couldn't help but wish she had never been here. She wouldn't have destroyed her childhood lying in bed for twelve years. She wouldn't have lost her mother. She wouldn't have been killed by a murderous nun. She wouldn't have been resurrected and called out as God's champion, and tossed out against demons.
But she wouldn't have met Beatrice.
Ava threw a quick glance at her hand, where a simple silver band was wrapped around her finger. She would walk through Hell (again) if it meant that she could meet her wife. Her amazing, beautiful, badass/smart/kind/super-duper-insanely-drop-dead-gorgeous wife. God knew how the world didn't deserve Bea, and Ava was still surprised that she had agreed to marry her, let alone love her.
A small smile on her face, Ava fished a bronze coin out of her pocket, twirling it between her fingers in absent-minded fascination. She didn't need to make a wish, didn't even want to. What else could she wish for when all she ever wanted was right beside her?
Still, something, something small and faint in the back of her mind made her keep twirling the little coin in between her fingers.
Sometimes, and she would never admit it to anyone, sometimes she would wake up in their bed, gazing at her wife sleeping soundly beside her, and remember fragments of her dream, where a child with Bea's eyes and Ava's energy would run around their apartment, wreaking havoc through the whole order. She couldn't talk about it, though. Camila would probably start bouncing on the walls throwing name ideas at her, Lillith would snicker, Mary would just look at her with a 'what the fuck are you talking about?' look on her face, and Bea would get quiet, nervous and a little sad, like she had stolen something from Ava by marrying her, like she had taken her chance at having children.
Which was bullshit. Absolute and utter bullshit. Ava wished her wife could see that, but Bea had lived her life being thaught that loving a woman was a sin, something that wasn't allowed. When Ava had (finally) confessed her feelings for her, the secret had gotten out, spilling from mouths to splash into their sisters’ ears, and Beatrice had cried for them not to judge her, not to abandon her. Mary, who had just come back from the dead, just raised an eyebrow, while everyone was waiting for the storm to explode and, in complete Mary-fashion, had hit her with a 'dude, me and Shannon were totally boning', and Mother Superion had yelled for her to watch her language.
But even after years of being reassured again and again that she was okay, that she was safe, Bea couldn't let go of the words that had been whispered into her soul as a child.
And so Ava was there, sitting on the stone of the fountain, right where she had lost her life and gained another, wishing Bea could have the same. Well, minus the killer-nun and the 12 year old wheelchair.
She pressed a kiss to the coin before throwing it over her shoulder, listening for the little plop that indicated the coin had fallen into the water.
Sighing, she got up, dusted her jeans while smiling softly, took a step forward... And almost fell when something collided with her.
Ava managed to regain balance and looked down, only to discover a child sitting on the ground, looking confusedly around.
"Oops, sorry buddy, didn't see you there."
She crouched down to help the child on their feet, and froze.
It was a little girl, about three or four years old, with round cheeks and monolid eyes, little dark pigtails at the base of her head. Her face was familiar, so familiar Ava wondered for a moment if she hadn't seen her before, but she would have remembered her eyes. Because they were golden. Literally golden, not brown, not hazel nut, not yellowish. Completely golden, which was very strange, because Ava would have thought the kid would have black eyes, if not dark brown.
The little girl looked at her with her mouth open, as if she was about to start crying or screaming for her parents, yet she didn't utter a single sound.
"Hey, are you okay?" Ava asked, a little confused laugh in her voice.
The little girl just kept looking at her, even as Ava helped her up and rose up.
"Seriously, did you hit your head or something?"
The little girl raised her arms at her, as if asking to be carried.
"Uh... Sorry buddy, I don't want to be accused of kidnapping. Where are your parents?"
"Mama."
"Okay, that doesn't help at all."
"Margaux!"
Another little girl was running to them, a cap on her head, her jacket floating behind her.
And she froze when seeing Ava. Completely. She stopped in the middle of the square, staring at Ava, her mouth hanging open.
The first little girl—Margaux—rushed to her.
"Hey, are you okay? What's going on?" Ava asked, seized with concern.
She didn't know much about children, but that was definitely not normal.
"We have to go," the girl said, with a hint of a British accent, grabbing the little one's hand.
"Hey, wait a sec—Wait!"
Too late.
The girl had turned on her heels, scampering off in the opposite direction while dragging the little girl behind her, with absolutely no regard for the traffic.
"Wait!"
Ava rushed in their direction, thinking that she might end up at the station for running after unknown children. Bea wouldn't be happy.
A car braked in a hurry, the girl pushed the little one to protect her.
"Jesus Christ. Sorry!" Ava yelled at the driver who gave her the middle finger as she dashed across the street, the girls running across the sidewalk.
They pulled into an alley, Ava following them picking up speed, but even so, she was being outrun by two kids under ten.
"Wait!"
The two little girls were suddenly joined by a third, taller one, and the girl with the cap pushed her forward, ordering:
"Run!"
The new girl grabbed the younger one, pulling her completely behind them as they ran through the back streets of Màlaga, as if they knew the city by heart.
But Ava had more than one trick up her sleeve. As the little girls turned at a new angle, Ava threw herself to the side, continuing to run through the walls, before exiting into a new alley.
The three girls braked so suddenly that the youngest crashed into the tallest's legs.
"Hide your faces!" She exclaimed.
For some reason, they weren't screaming for ghost at seeing her walk through a wall, and the younger ones buried their faces in the jacket of the older one, who covered her own face with her arm.
"What's going on?" Ava asked, stunned. "Who are you guys?"
"None of your business," retorted the eldest.
There was something in the way she talked, a familiar accent that Ava felt she had heard all her life, had learned the contours of it until imprinting them in her mind.
"Hey. It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you."
The girl didn't answer, pressing her face against her sleeve.
"Can you... Can you lower your arm, please?"
They weren't moving, but they weren't running away either. Ava couldn't understand the meaning behind that.
She approached slowly, as if trying not to startle a small animal. She gently placed her hand on the girl's jacket, slowly lowering her arm.
The face of a ten-year-old girl stared back at her. Like the youngest, she had monolid eyes and round cheeks, but a small nose and thin mouth, as well as a well-defined jawline.
And like the other, she seemed so familiar that Ava's insides ached for an answer.
"Who are you?"
The second girl looked up, pushing back her cap, and Ava found herself staring at a younger version of herself.
Except for her eyes.
They were completely golden.
"What the fuck?"