—chapter nineteen.

  ❛ there's no fun in
cleaning up the mess
that you made. ❜  

"HOW DID IT GO?"

Elodie was surprised that was the first time he was asking. She was sure Charlie would catch one when she asked for the day off before. And of course, showing up late and unusually silent should have set off alarm bells for him too, considering she made a point of being there at least five minutes early. Yet, there had been nothing but normal jokes and hums of 'behind you' for hours, and she had been almost worried for what was to come.

Maybe she should have counted her blessings, before she screwed herself.

"How did 'what' go?"

Playing dumb was not the best strategy. It was not even a good strategy, and she knew that. But for some strange reason, the second he had asked, she had just panicked and gone completely blank, leaving her mumbling the absolute worst answer to his completely sane question.

She watched Charlie's lips twitch, lifting into a smirk beneath his moustache. He propped himself against the back counter, watching as she moved past. "You know what I'm talking about, come on!"

"Oh," she muttered, like she had only just figured it out. Her right hand found a cup and the other a rag, moving mechanically to scrub it out. "That. Fine."

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"The word fine? It means ok-"

"-I know what the word means," he retorted. Charlie blocked her from passing him again and she squeaked in surprise. His arms folded up against his chest and with a slight groan, he pulled himself to his full height, creating an intimidating image of the sweetheart she usually knew.

"What the--"

"--talk to me about this." His gaze softened a little, but not enough to help her know if he was just messing with her or not. "What happened with your guy?"

She gritted her teeth, "I'm not going to talk about this right now."

"Elodie, come on-"

"I'm serious, Charlie." But his expression didn't flinch, and she was forced to make a rather uneasy compromise, "I can't talk about this right now. Please? Not when I'm still on the clock and it's still busy."

His body slumped down again; not in frustration, but in sympathy. His arms uncrossed, leaving a free hand to squeeze her forearm. "I'm sorry, hon."

"It's fine."

"It's not, and believe me, I can tell this shit's eating you from the inside out. Have you talked about this with anyone?"

"Okay, I--"

"--I only meant to a friend, or family, or shit," he said, reassuring and gentle. She found it oddly comforting (even if it felt like he was trying to tame a wild kid). "So you know, it doesn't consume you?"

Elodie shrugged a shoulder, "I've always hated small talk. You should'a noticed, by now."

He did not laugh at that. "I'm being serious, kid. I don't want you dealing with your problems by yourself -- seriously, that'll fuck you up big time."

Her grinned waned; irony never tasted no bitter, coming from someone so caring. "I got the memo, Charlie. But I'd just like to get back to work."

"Fine, we'll talk later."

"I'd really rather not."

"Yeah, we are, or I'll have your head in with the boss."

"For what?"

"Does it matter?"

She glared at him wearily. "I take anything nice I ever said about you back, Charles Alonzo. You're a dickwad."

But she didn't really mean that, and she was certain from the twinkle in his gentle eyes, that he knew that far too well. Otherwise, why else would be even still be trying? After all, she mused silently, most give up after the second day.

Five hours moved by in meaningless waves. Elodie wouldn't remember a thing that happened during them -- whether that be from boredom, lack of sleep or the buzzing that wouldn't quit in her ears, at least it hadn't hindered her work performance. If anything, the patrons must have been grateful the woman with flames dancing in her eyes had be doused. She probably would be, if she were in their place.

It was rare for her to feel the extremities of exhaustion. She had battled bouts of insomnia her entire life, and learned to control the symptoms until the next time she could force herself to rest, but that night was torture. Her body was swimming in aches, like a full-body bruise, turning her into a walking zombie by the end of the night. Everything was loud, and too irritating in her skull but she could not get any of it to stop -- only for it all to grow even worse if she complained. While Elodie wasn't much for silence, she begrudgingly agreed to its terms, if only to keep away her raging headache from consuming her alive.

By the end of the night, Elodie could barely move. She slumped into a barstool and sunk her head down to rest, uncaring for the smells or sounds around her. Somewhere vaguely nearby she heard Charlie's tongue click, but she could not even find it in herself to respond.

"Elodie, honey."

"M'fine," she mumbled, muffled by her arms. "Just...jus'taking a moment. Be...be'righ'there."

"Uh-huh. Okay." She felt a large hand rest on her back, rubbing soothing circles into it. She had no energy to swat him off. "You want me take you home?"

"No."

"Well, you're certainly not walking in this state."

She finally shrugged off his hand, shifting her weight so she was a little bit aways again. "You're on the clock."

"I'm done in twenty, and Claire already agreed to cover closing up."

"You got...ta get home yourself." She raised her head up a little bit so she could look at Charlie, "just leave me here, I'll be good."

"Hilarious, but I'll pass."

"I'll...go to the back, so the customers don't see?"

"Hush. I'm driving you home."

"Charlie, but--"

He snorted and patted her shoulder, hardly missing a beat when she once more shrugged him away. "Come on, just take the offer and make peace with the fact that you need help."

Elodie sighed. "You have things to do."

"At one in the morning?"

"Sure."

"Nope," he rebutted. "Just driving you, then myself home. Now, come on before I drag your ass out like a drunk."

In the end, he did have to half drag her out -- not for inebriation or even exhaustion, but for her pure stubbornness. It was a process to even convince her to clock out and Elodie was certain Charlie would have given up every step of the way. And when he didn't, she wasn't sure what to say.

"I can take care of myself," she finally said lamely.

Charlie shrugged. He had bundled up to match her, pushing a dark brown beanie atop his messy waves to shield his ears. "I know you can. But you dont have to all the time."

"I -- well -- " she glanced around at the empty bar. Her ears burned and a familiar feeling of humiliation thickened in her throat; she wasn't sure if she was going to hurl, or choke to death on the lump. "I guess I'm just sorry, to make you do this. I know I'm an asshole."

"Shh, don't say that."

"You know it's true."

"No, it's not!" She shot him a frown and he stopped. His shoulders sagged a little, "I'm not taking anything you do out of pure emotion, to heart. I know a little more than you think I do, kid, and I'm not stupid enough to think you're all nails and no heart."

Her lip wobbled a little despite itself. "Maybe I am."

"If you were, you wouldn't be here for that boy of yours back home, now would you?" With a sad, soft grin, Charlie extended his arm, waiting for her to grab hold. "Shall we?"

And despite the outpour of frustration, anger, shame and self-hatred that pulsed like cheap vodka in her stomach, and the way she was certain it was going to dig a hole right through her systems if she listened to him, Elodie accepted. She reached up to cling to his arm and let him take her out the back like she was drunk. And maybe she was -- not physically, but the symptoms at least felt like it could be that. 

Elodie squinted at the bright outside lights, head lolling back ever so slightly. "Hey, how'd -- how'd you know about my brother?"

"A good bartender knows all," Charlie grinned back. He tapped at the side of his nose, "the best bartenders are Sherlocks, reincarnate."

"You saw the picture in my pocket?"

"That too, maybe. Yeah."

She chuckled mirthlessly. He didn't copy.

"I know that you've got a lot on your plate, Elodie. I can see a weary soldier when I see one -- and that's not just my dad talking, s'the truth. You're trying to do so much when you yourself need the help and resources."

"I--"

"--and I get it, 'cause I've been the same way," Charlie continued. "But, you don't have to do it all alone. And sometimes, you can let yourself be helped. Even if it's just a drive home from your coworker."

Elodie's chest tightened with that ever familiar sense of guilt. It was the very words he told her to console her, that made her feel so sick -- reminding her that the pain she was feeling was nothing compared to what was to come and what would happen to the ones she loved. That her faltering meant more pain, and she didn't want to do that to him. Nor to anyone.

She did not say any of that, of course. What she did was hold onto his parka and home she made it home, that time.

"You're a good man, Charles."

He glanced her way. "Thanks. Where's that coming from?"

"I just wanted you to know," Elodie shrugged, clinging a little tighter. "I don't think anyone says it enough."

He didn't answer that.

"I'M SO SORRY."

"It's just...it's really stupid," she sniffled. Elodie rubbed at her nose with a vengeance -- like wiping away her snot was going to fix the problem. "I just...I'm pissed at myself, for doing this because I know it's my own fault. I caused the fire, y'know?"

"Don't say that."

"It's true," she shrugged. She picked at her scabbed wound with little interest. "I had personal red flags runnin' all the lights and I ignored them, thinking I could really do it this time. But then I messed it up, and I don't know if we can just go back to the good shit."

Charlie didn't ask what she meant by 'this time', and in hindsight Elodie would appreciate that. But he did ask a different question.

"You really like this guy?"

"Uh, I mean, I guess. He's fine."

"Bullshit, Elodie. Give it to me straight."

She rolled her eyes. "What does it matter if I like him or not? We weren't meant to be. We dropped it and moved on, and I'll be fine with that."

"But see," he tapped his hands against his steering wheel, striking an uneven pattern for Elodie to cling to. "I don't think of it like that. I think you are scared because you really do like 'im, and you're worried because you've gotten the back end of all this before. And so you purposely ruined your chance with this guy, believing that to be better than getting too attached and messing it up later."

She glanced over his way, watching as a slow smirk licked up his lips, barely illuminated by the street lights around them. He seemed older than, aged in the poor lighting and his own advice. Like he knew half a thing about what he was talking about, himself.

"Where's all that coming from," she said softly, unsure how to respond to such a statement (mostly because, well, she was pretty sure it was true). "You ever been a psych or something?"

"Ha. No. Never had the grades for school -- but, I do have experience in the self-destruction zone, if you know what I mean." His smile grew a little grimmer. "You know, I've been you. I was you, back in the forces. Thought my destiny was to get gunned down and just be a number for the country. S'what my folks got engrained in my head, and I let myself believe it 'cause I didn't think I could be much better."

Elodie's hands squeezed a little tighter onto themselves. "What changed?"

"You know what changed? What changed, is that I met the most beautiful woman in the world, and I realised that there might be more to life than fighting and death."

She scoffed. "You're just playing me now."

"No, I'm serious! Look." With one smooth move, Charlie pulled out his wallet and slid it open. He slipped a small, folded paper out from behind it all and held it out to her, "meet my girl, Donna."

Elodie took the paper gingerly, careful not to hold on too hard for fear of it catching flame. It was difficult to see in such poor lighting, but she caught enough; big smiles, arms pressing one another as close as they could, blonde curls barely bound together and threatening to spill with any wrong move.

"I met Miss Donna when I was just about to go on my last tour," he said, and his voice cracked at the last words; she wondered if he could go on, but somehow he stuck through it. "I was bitter and miserable and at the lowest point of my life. I didn't want to talk to anyone, knowing that I had a death wish -- but she insisted on writing me, no matter how much I told her it wasn't worth it. And..." Charlie hesitated again, "you know, four years later and I'm back and alive and despite it all, I was willing to try."

She passed him back the photograph. "That's really sweet, Charlie. But I'm not looking to join the forces."

"No, but you're still killing yourself over things you shouldn't be. Your hellhole job, your past mistakes -- those don't matter, when you got the right people, and you learn to try again. But if you sabotage yourself before you let yourself be happy, you'll never know if you could have had the greatest of times with your special person."

Elodie avoided his searching eyes, finding solace in watching the snow fall, instead. Her hands felt oddly cold, then, no longer burning -- just cold, and limp, sad and confused. "You really believe all that, or are you trying to just spin a pretty tale?"

"It's what I believe most, kid," was his soft reply. "And I know it's all just words and hyp-ie-theticals, but I think you believe me a little, too. That you believe you can and deserve better."

And she did, a little.

"Thanks for driving me home," Elodie said, ignoring what he had said before. "And thanks for telling me about your girl. She's really lucky to have someone like you."

"I see it the other way around, but...thanks, Elodie."

She nodded briskly. "I'll be better tomorrow. I just haven't slept well, and...whatever. Sorry for being a drag."

Charlie scoffed. "If you were a drag, I would have got you fired years ago. I like you, Elodie, and I know you can't believe that quite yet but I mean that. And I want to help you if I can."

She still refused to meet his gaze. "Right. Thanks."

"Just...try and think about what I said, okay? For your sake, for your boy's, for--"

"--he's not my 'boy'," she interjected, "he's just my brother."

"Whatever the case, you care about him, don't you?"

"Sure."

"Well, then," and without even looking, she could tell he was smiling, "try to take care of yourself for his sake. A'right?"

Elodie's eyes lifted back to the snow outside the car window. It felt soft and fast, puddling on the sidewalks and creating hills of fluffy white all around her apartment complex. A brief image of Ellis in the snow flashed in her mind -- bundled up and laughing, pulling her along despite her complaints of the cold and forcing her to jump into every single one with her. And behind them both, laughed a younger man, badly dressed for the weather but still eager to remain by their sides. People watched from afar, but none of them even batted an eye, too enthralled with the childish idea of smashing every single snowy pillow under them.

"Thanks," she said again numbly. One blink and the scene was destroyed. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. Take care, Elodie."

"You too."

She stepped out of the car and into where imaginary Ellis had just been running. But it wasn't fun like it had been with them; her pants were immediately covered with snow and slush, and she already felt the cold biting into her bones. She was lonely, and miserable, and she found herself missing an idea that had never actually been.

Elodie watched aimlessly as Charlie drove away, then turned to stare at the snow again. She had always wanted to bring Ellis up, he loved the city and it would be so good to see him, if she could be so selfish. He would have liked Diego, too. She wanted them to meet. To prove that there was something she had succeeded at, that she could love and be loved and care for someone that wasn't just...well, she wasn't certain she was doing a good job at caring for herself anymore. But the point could still stand.

"Elodie?"

Her head snapped up. Her heart jumped into her throat.

"Elodie, you good?"

She whirled around to see Diego halfway down the sidewalk, staring at her in confusion. He wore nearly exactly what she had seen in her head and was barely dressed for the freezing weather -- how did he never get sick?, she thought to herself.

"I'm fine," Elodie said shortly. She straightened up, "what are you doing here?"

"I..." he waved a hand back from whence he came, "I went to the bar, but they said you went home already. I didn't know if you were--"

"--I got a ride home from a coworker."

"Oh. Okay, good."

She didn't answer that.

"Are...are you okay?"

Elodie shrugged one shoulder, cringing as the cold fabric met brushed her face. "M'fine. What are you doing here?"

Diego sighed and shuffled his feet. "I just wanted to come by. Try n'talk things out."

Time seemed to slip away much faster than ever, far too fast - it was like hours had faded away by the time she had comprehended his words, even more after she had finally blinked and realised she needed to talk. Elodie did not move, though, and it took her several seconds to figure out what to say to that - really because she had no clue what there was, to say. Or how she felt, anymore.

Charlie's words replayed in her ear like a broken record: 'better...sabotage yourself...be happy'. She wished they would just turn off.

"It's late, Diego. I haven't slept well, I -- had to call in early so I could try and sleep, you know. So I'm...I'm not really in a place to talk."

"Sure, but...I just, I know I messed up, but--"

"--it's not about that. Well, it is, but I'm not looking for that right now. I just need...I need a couple moments to figure shit out before I try to fix this."

Diego frowned. "I fucked up so bad, you need to fix this?"

"What? No."

"Then why--"

"--we both need to to work out what we did or did not do," she huffed. A headache began to pulse at the back of her head; so much for sleeping. "I am not in an emotional state to have a proper adult conversation about like, how to cook beans, let alone how we want to navigate whatever we have going between us. You get what I'm saying?"

He nodded slightly. "Sure."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too." He hesitated still, shifting his weight from foot to foot. She could tell he was freezing, and a part of her wished she could just ask him up and pretend like all the mess had never happened. 

But she couldn't, and she knew she couldn't. 

"I-I-I miss this. You."

Her lips twisted. "Yeah. Me too."

"I don't want to let it just go."

Elodie hated how her mind immediately jumped to agreement -- she dared not say the hopeful 'maybe we don't have to', no matter how it pulled at her. She stiffened up. "Well, we can talk about it some other time, maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Figure of speech."

"Is it?" he asked, a little hoarse. "Or are you just trying to push me away?"

She was. One hundred percent. She wished she could throw him out and never speak a word to him again, because maybe that was what was best for the both of them. Hell, if she could time travel, she would be hopping that wave in a second. No matter how selfish.

Elodie glanced over to her complex, staring at the windows still lit up and ignoring his puppy-dog eyes. "You're a good guy, Diego Hargreeves. Not a lotta people give many shits about the people they don't know. I can't figure out why you do what you do, but it is good. A real Batman in the making, or...whatever."

"Elodie, I--"

"--see ya, Diego." She gave him a tight smile and stepped back. "Goodnight."

"That's not fair, to push me away."

"I know," she murmured, only to herself. "I know, pal."

"Elodie?"

"Goodnight," she called, and it came out snappier than she meant, but she was fine to settle for it in her exhaustion. "We'll talk later."

Elodie began to walk away for real that time. She heard him call, even shuffle forward  few paces, but did not pause for a second. She walked until she could finally collapse into the elevator and head up to her floor, waiting for the chance to finally crash.

"Sorry, Charlie," she whispered, staring at the steel grey ahead of her. "Maybe this is just for the best."

Her body took over for her then, forcing her forward on a sort of auto-pilot in hopes that her mind could finally relax. Elodie pulled into her apartment, locking the door mechanically and throwing everything off into a heap on the floor. She swallowed down two pills dry, rolling her aching skull on her neck before pulling over to the telephone to take her messages. She hadn't expected many -- maybe one from Ellis, that was it, and waited with no care for the tinny recordings to begin.

But in less than a minute, her body gave out too, and the telephone fell from her hand. She fell down against the side of the counter, trembling and burning with an extraordinary burst of what could only be described as, as fear.

And all the while, the recorded voice of Matialli rang out through her tiny apartment, swallowing her up with every syllable.

"As for your father's trial, it's been pushed for what they've called time-sensitive reasons, leaving us no choice but to begin three days from today. And I know it's abrupt, but as much as I've fought to have more time, under recent circumstances, my professional opinions seem to not have any weight. I will need you to meet with me tomorrow, so we can go over our final details, and be prepared for the start of all this. I hope you'll be ready and prepared for this, for your sake and your father's."

In the original version of this chapter, Charlie and Diego like have a little spat on her apartment's lawn and I just... it makes me laugh a little. I dunno what I was thinking. Like yes, for sure Diego messed up, but I don't know why I was vilifying him in a way that Charlie would be ready to throw arms for the guy, especially considering Elodie was the one talking to him and telling him what happened. So I just made him leave bc it was like, the weirdest story point to go with.

But, also, we got a little of Charlie! I love Charlie. I'm really just manifesting him as an emotional support being for myself and Elodie, but like -- I still stan regardless of intent. :')

Also, sorry for the delays between chapters being posted. My physical health took a dip but I'm trying to edit these as fast as can be. Thank you for all the constant love and support and new readers spreading such kind thoughts! Your words are much appreciated and warm my thought, even if I don't respond they make me very happy. xx

Thank you for reading; let me know what you thought!