ACOTAR One Shots

Over

"So that's it, huh? It's over, just like that?" Cassian hissed, trying desperately to keep the pain out of his voice. It wouldn't help him here. "You're just going to shut yourself completely off and let that be it?"

Nesta stared blankly back at him, her face void of emotion. Her steel gray eyes were dulled and held none of their usual fire. Cassian had watched her deteriorate for months. Watched as her skin turned chalky. Watched as her bones became more apparent and her limbs lost their muscle. Watched as her soul withered away. The war had done unspeakable things to Nesta, and Cassian had just sat back and watched.

Cassian would forever regret the choices he made in regards to Nesta after the war.

"Come on Nes, say something," he begged, using the nickname that he knew she hated just to see if it caused a reaction—anything but the emptiness that remained in her eyes.

She turned those dead eyes to Cass, giving him nothing but that blank, void stare, "I have nothing to say to you." The ice in her words nearly stopped his heart.

He should've been used to her cold words. In fact, Nesta had never exactly been warm to him—even before the war, before she was thrust into that damned Cauldron. But even before, she would still express some version of warmth to him—her own version of warmth, the only one she was capable of. But the words still stung, still struck him in a way that only her words could. Even his many fights with his family—his court—had never hurt him the way she had continuously.

"That's bullshit," he rasped, still trying to ignore the tightening in his chest. "That's bullshit and you know it."

Nesta narrowed her gaze at him, "I have nothing to say to you. I want nothing to do with you. Quite frankly, I want you gone and out of my life. I don't need you or anyone."

The words felt like a slap to the face—worse, it felt like a kick to his manhood. In fact, he wished she would've done that instead. At least he could recover from that, this wasn't something that could be easily fixed.

"You're lying, Nes," he said, voice sounding tight even to his own ears. "You're lying all so that you can stay safely hidden behind this wall you've put up around yourself. But I see you, Nes. I see you and I'm not afraid of that."

"Go to hell, Cass," Nesta spat. "You don't know me, and you know nothing about who I am."

Cass raised an eyebrow at her, "Really? Do you really think I know nothing about you?"

Nesta didn't answer. Instead she turned her gaze away from him and spun away—a clear dismissal of his presence in her room.

"You want to know what I think, Nes?" Cass pressed, moving closer to her body that was still stubbornly turned away from him. She didn't answer, so he plowed forward. "I think you're scared. I think you're scared of what might happen if you let people in—if you let them help you. After all, who wants to deal with a broken mess, right?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, even though she couldn't see, "That's just too much work and too much to ask for. It's better to just sit and drown in your own pity, isn't it? Safer to let no one in and let yourself wither away to nothing. Because who could care about that kind of mess? Who would really want to deal with it? Certainly not those around you who love you, despite of the mess you are and the way you treat them."

Nesta's spin stiffened and Cassian wondered if he had pushed too far for once—if he had said too much. But she still didn't turn to face him, nor did she repeat her earlier order for him to go to hell. So he sucked in a deep breath and pressed on again.

"I think, Nesta, that you're scared of being abandoned and left. I think you're scared of finally letting someone in and them turning away from you once you do," Cass looked down at his hands that were wrung together tightly. "I think you spent your whole life watching your dad do nothing to save you, feeling nothing but abandoned by him. And when he finally did step up, he was taken from you. I think that you watched the only things you ever loved be ripped from you or changed in ways that are unimaginable. I think you're scared of being open with people because you don't want to put yourself in the position where you could lose them."

Nesta finally whipped around to face him. Her eyes were rimmed with unshed tears and her jaw clenched tighter than he had ever seen it before. "So what if I am?" She spat, her arms gripped her body harder as if she could contain all that she was feeling—as if she could force the world away from herself. "So what if I am scared? What are you going to do about it?"

"I want to help you Nes, but I can't do that if you won't let me," Cass replied softly, letting his hands hang loosely at his sides.

"You can't help me," she replied blankly, but a slight wobble to her lip betrayed her.

"I think I could," he replied, stepping forward again. "I could help you, because I know what it's like. I know what it's like to fear losing people and letting them in." He took another step—she didn't pull away. "You're not the only one who has been abandoned. Who has felt that hole and loss in their heart. I could help you because I was you, Nes. And I'm willingly to bet I know you better than you're willing to admit."

He was standing less than an inch from her, but he didn't make a move to touch her. He didn't want her to pull away, and for the time being she didn't seem to be wanting to move away from him—so he wouldn't give her a reason to do so.

He felt that thing between them go taunt, felt it pull at his ribs, but he shoved it down. That was a conversation for another time, one where Nesta was in much better shape and where her heart was healed a bit more. He would not push her into anything, nor would he shove her further away by pressing a... No, that train of thought wouldn't leave him anywhere good.

So, he stared at Nesta instead. Waiting for her to say something—to do something. But she seemed lost in her own head, her eyes having taken on that faraway look. Carefully, oh so carefully, he reached out a hand and laid it gently on her shoulder.

"Let me help you, Nes," he whispered again, praying she wouldn't shut herself up and pull away.

She didn't flinch, nor did she pull away from his touch. He silently counted that as a win. She looked up at him, and he watched as a tear finally slid down her cheek. He wiped it away before it got too far, and gently cradled her cheek. That too she miraculously allowed. She opened her mouth, then closed it shaking her head.

"Let me help, Nesta," he pressed again, rubbing a gentle circle onto the soft skin of her cheek.

She didn't say anything, but another tear began to fall. Then another. And before Cass knew it, Nesta was sobbing into his chest with her arms firmly wrapped around his waist. He tucked her in close and wrapped his wings around her, letting them be a shield against the world and her. One of his hands cradled her head and ran softly through her hair, and the other held her tightly around her waist.

"Shh, sweetheart. I've got you," he whispered, comforting her in the only ways he knew how. Later, he would ask Rhys for advice, or maybe Feyre... at least she wouldn't make fun of him for his inexperience in comfort—well, possibly wouldn't make fun of him. Maybe he should just go to Azriel.

He tossed the errant thoughts from his head and focused on soothing the sobbing, broken girl in his arms. He promised, right then and there, that he would never again allow this kind of pain to consume Nesta again. He would make sure that he was always there for her, whether she wanted him or not.

**Ahh, I finally got around to posting another chapter!! I'm so sorry for not updating more frequently but college is insane and I tend to have a lot of homework. But I just want to say a big thank you to anyone who is reading this and for being patient with my as I get new parts published!

Again, if you have any prompt ideas, critiques, or see something weird—don't hesitate to let me know. I'd love to hear what you guys think and I can always use some new ideas.