—chapter twenty-one.

  ❛maybe we're both just screwing up. ❜  

"THANKS FOR LETTING ME BORROW SOME CLOTHES," Elodie muttered. She tugged gently on the black hoodie. "I appreciate it, after mine..." she trailed off. "Thanks."

Diego just nodded.

It had been thirty minutes since he had brought her back with him, and he still hadn't dropped that odd expression he had worn when he saw her. His eyes were hooded and shadowed and under the dull gleam of his place's lights, practically unreadable. He was still Diego, the man she loved, but the edge that hung about him was foreign to her. 

But despite that, Elodie knew what he was thinking. She had seen the shock in faces before -- only, those times, they were also screaming and petrified of what the 'little freak' was going to do to them next. He wasn't yelling just yet, but she could still feel his fear just as she could her own. Thick, hanging heavy in the air between them, waiting to crush their still beating hearts between its teeth.

"I..." she looked away from him, staring at the wall behind. A series of knives sat plunged into a black and white silhouette; she wondered how many holes she could count. "I didn't think I'd see you. Or you me."

Diego's lips pursed. "You walked past the gym."

Elodie frowned, "what?"

"You looked like a zombie," he muttered, his tone dark and low. "Thought you were drunk, or high on somethin'. So I followed you."

She picked at her nail absent-mindedly. "You didn't have to."

"I thought you were gonna get hurt," Diego barked back, and she flinched at the harsh sound. "I thought -- well, it doesn't matter. Cause you obviously didn't."

"Should'a believed me, when I said I could hold my own."

He scoffed bitterly. "When someone says that, they generally don't mean they have fucking glowing shit that comes out of them."

The panic that had almost consumed Elodie nearly an hour before began to pour back in. It had left a sour taste in her mouth, and as the darkness trickled in again, she hoped she wouldn't throw up.

"I didn't want you to know."

"Yeah. I got that."

"You shouldn't have come."

"Dammit, Elodie, don't you dare do that."

"Do what?"

"Push me away again!" He shouted back. His hand came up, jabbing a finger her way; she didn't miss the way it trembled. "I know, and I know because I followed you, because I was scared you were gonna get killed. I didn't want to lose you."

She shuddered, panic slipping down her spine with its ice cold touch. "I know. I know. I just..." selfishly, she wanted to leave. She was calm enough to get back to her place again and maybe it would be better to just run. He would probably follow, but she was fast -- maybe she could call a cab and waste a couple bills on her escape. He wasn't foolish enough to follow all the way back to her place, was he? She could get far enough, fast enough. None would be the wiser.

"I didn't want you to know," she repeated lamely. There was no bite to the words. She shivered. "You shouldn't have had to see that."

Diego hummed again. "I don't even know what I did see."

"Oh."

"But I want to know."

"Okay," she said, so soft it could barely be considered sound; she wasn't sure if even heard it, but maybe he didn't care anyways. "Can...I sit down?"

Diego's head moved up once, the only answer she needed for her to finally sit down. Her muscles ached with a pain she hadn't felt in years, reminding her of the panicked chase she had between herself and her fears -- it had not felt long in the moment, but she had somehow managed to race all the way to Diego's gym, meaning she had run on mere adrenaline and could have really screwed herself over.

Elodie ran a hand down her face, wiping at the exhaustion settling into nervous wrinkles. She just wanted to rest, but sleep wouldn't come so easy anymore, not with him. She doubted she could sleep even a wink without his face showing up.

"So?"

"I..." her hand fell down again, and she used them both as a prop for her head to land in. She stared down at her socked feet and waited for the end to come. It'd at least be a little sweeter than this.

"You know, not even my brother knows about this shit."

She heard shuffling around her, shadows moving across his floor, but she didn't bother to look up. It didn't matter, anyways, where he was.

"It's not something I, uh, do a lot. I try not to." She laughed weakly; it sounded more like a cry for help. "I hate it. I hate talking about it. So I just...don't."

Something scraped against the floor, and from the corner of her eye, she saw the edge of his boots. "You could have told me."

Once more, she chuckled. Her face ached. "It was easier to pretend like things were normal. I wasn't really interested in telling you the girl you were sleeping with was a freak. I mean - s'not exactly a fuckin' party trick, you know?"

He said nothing to that, and that surprised her; she expected some sort of outburst, or half a dozen questions at least, thrown like spears to pin her down with. But maybe it made sense, because learning your ex...whatever she was to him, was a pyromaniac freak. That had to be hard to take.

Elodie didn't want to say another word. She wanted to leave. She wouldn't mind getting soaked through, she would probably welcome it, over the heavy burn that pulsed through her body and reminded her of who she was. She needed to dampen the fire before it grew too strong again, and before she had to doom Diego with the monstrosity she tried so hard to contain.

And maybe it was a cowardly move, but they both already knew she loved that crutch. Maybe if she just ran...

Finally, however, he spoke -- just before she could get up. "You-you think you were just the chick I was sleeping with?"

That caught her off guard. Elodie lifted her head up to stare, wide-eyed, at the man across from her. "What?"

"You really think that was all we were? I - I mean," he spluttered, and she saw a different side to him then, anger but not as she had seen before. "I know I m-messed up, but c'mon, I was committed to you, I--"

"--I didn't say you weren't," she rushed, "I just -- I didn't mean it like that."

"Then what the hell did you mean by that? Did you not want--"

"--dammit, Diego, of course I wanted that! I wanted that and so much goddamn more!"

"Then why the hell wouldn't you say that? Why are you still pushing and pushing me away?"

"Because I'm terrified? Because I, I," she paused, emotions riding like swift tides roaring to meet the moon; she didn't want to cry, but she felt it coming, just as she did that familiar red. "For the first time in forever, I had met someone who wasn't just looking to use me. For one reason or another. And I'm sorry for not telling you, but I didn't want to scare you away like everyone else who would just see me as that freak they slept with! I'm a disaster, Diego! A walking fucking disaster!"

At that point, Elodie had stood up and her arms flew through the air with no control. They no longer glowed, but she knew they would burn just as fast as she let them. 

But she didn't. She sank back into the chair and buried her head in her hands again, holding onto her hair with all the strength she could muster. "I just wanted...I didn't want to lose you, too. And I knew that once you found out, you'd..."

"I don't think you're a freak."

She scoffed; she had heard that before. "You don't have to say that."

"I'm not. I don't think of you like that."

Her frantic fingers loosened their hold on her hair. "What?"

"Elodie, my father personally sought out seven children with weird, supernatural abilities to create an army for him to use at his disposal. My sister can convince someone to do anything, and - and my brother used to talk to ghosts like that was nothing. I got my own shit going on, too, and you really think that I would judge you, when I'm the same typ'a freak?"

She gritted her teeth, "you're not a - that."

"Neither are you."

"Diego--"

"--I'm not pissed about who you are." His tone was even, but for once, she could hear the emotion raging through it. "I'm pissed because you thought that I would judge you on it, and that you continued to just lie to me when I woul....I don't care. I just wanted the truth."

Elodie let out a long, raggedy breath. Her hands fell from her head, clasped in front of her knees. She continued to stare at the ground, but she lifted a little, just enough to see him doing the exact same thing.

"You don't want to know the truth."

"Bullshit."

A slow tear rolled down her cheek. "Diego, I wasn't - I'm not - a good person."

"Let me decide that," he said, softer than he had before. "But I don't think there's a thing that could convince me you're not the woman I lo-care about."

"Don't make promises like that."

"Fact." He spat the word out, burning it with the same fire she sang with. "Fact. Not promise."

"I...fine."

The frown lines staining Diego's forehead didn't disappear completely, but they did soften. She watched as he sank back into his chair and stared at her, waiting for her to deliver.

She sighed and hesitated several seconds before speaking again. Her voice trembled. "Ever since I was a kid, I could...I don't know the word for it. But whenever I got super angry, which was a lot," Elodie admitted, "I got all...hot. Like an oven. It didn't hurt and I wouldn't even notice sometimes. But others did. And sometimes I'd break things without even trying, or I'd...like melt shit, or shatter glass when I was on the other side of the room. If I screwed up enough, I'd hurt people. Bad."

The man shuffled in his chair, but still said nothing.

"My dad was an asshole. He wasn't my real dad. He adopted me with my mom when I was young and like -- he always told me the second he saw my face, he just knew I was special." Elodie paused to breathe, and she tried to hold back her tears, knowing they would only hurt her more. "But...when he saw what I could do, he...he saw me as his little gift, like I was given to him to commit whatever atrocities he wanted. Used to say that I was his secret weapon, and...you know, for years I guess I was. He got into shady shit and he used me to get'im out. Interpret that as you will.

"I never wanted to hurt people. I didn't like my powers, I didn't try to use them, but he - he got so mad when I didn't, and he would do such horri--" she cut herself off that time. She gulped in another breath. "He was a dick. And he just wanted his little weapon. So, my dad did whatever he could to train me, control me, and now...now I'm stuck trying to suppress it. It works half the time, but other times, I just can't stop it. It hurts, trying to keep the fire in. And I fuck shit up again."

"Have you..."

Her eyes lifted a little, just below his own strong gaze. "Have I done it here?"

He nodded.

"When I lose control, yeah. My - my apartment's a wreck, now," she chuckled mirthlessly. "The one good thing he taught me is how to manage the burn. I isolate, force the anger into smaller things instead of bigger or...or people. And ice helps, like as a temporary relief. Ice baths and shit..."

Diego shuffled a little closer. His knees could almost touch her own; she wondered if he wanted them to, or if he was just waiting for a chance to escape. Like she was.

"When's your birthday?"

Elodie choked. "I'm--" she paused to let out a heavy cough, spluttering through a dry throat, "I'm sorry, what?"

"Just -- tell me when?"

"Uh - the second of October, why?"

"I just was curious if it - if it was the first, it might mean that you were like me-forget it."

That was not what she was expecting, but it did numb the fear a little, thinking about the curious question over her own pain. Elodie shifted on the chair. "What do you mean, like you?"

"When I was young," he began, pulling each word out as though it hurt, "my father made a big deal of our birthdays. Didn't give a shit about the day itself, or whatever else kids celebrate, but he said that our abilities connected to the day and made us special. Just didn't know if that would have been the same in your case."

"Oh," she mumbled, unsure what to make of that. It hadn't been where she thought he would have gone with all that -- usually the first thought was 'what the fuck', followed by 'get away from me!' instead of asking about her birthday of all things. "Okay..."

"Is that why you moved? Without your brother?"

She nodded shakily. "Yeah. He...when I was born, I made my dad promise to leave him be and not involve him. It's the one deal we held up, until he got in shit the first time, and then I ran away. To this day, I just don't want to ruin his life cause of mine. So I take care of him from here, and make sure he doesn't have to deal with any of it."

"Oh."

Her hands fell apart, hanging awkwardly and only held up by her elbows. "You can ask what's on your mind. I won't lie, this time."

And so, he did. "You do it then on command, yeah?"

"Sometimes. Used to. I kind of...it's hard to control without stability, so for a couple years I was a mess. Had to run a lot. But normally I can just bury it down or suppress my emotions, and only use it in the smallest of cases. I - I got better, for a while."

She hesitated, and then, "you wanna see?"

He nodded. A hint of a smile lingered on his lips, and she couldn't trace why. "Can I?"

"Yeah."

Elodie shifted forward and offered her hands, palms up. She closed her eyes for a moment to concentrate and listened to only his shallow, anticipating breaths as the energy within her palms shifted and pooled. Her lids cracked open to watch as the energy coursed just underneath the skin, leaving it glowing a deep orangey-red.

"If I wasn't so tired," she saw, mumbling her words as she concentrated, "it'd be a little cooler. But today took a lot. But it's -- my dad had a lot of fancy words for it. I don't care about that. I just can hold the heat, it doesn't bother me and I can pull it from things, too."

"Yeah?"

She nodded wearily. "When I was younger, I could do more. I used to do these exercises where I would stand at a certain distance and try to melt something -- over time, I could shatter glass from several rooms over. And he...I had to do other stuff, too. A couple times, I produced fire, you know?"

She concentrated again and forced the energy to pull away. Soon enough the palm cooled again and she slumped down again. "But I don't do that anymore."

The look in his eyes had brightened, shifting from something darker to what she could almost call wonder, a childish light that glistened even when her hand pulled away. "Wow."

"I truly, like - I don't do that often. Especially in public."

"So, the trick in the alley?"

"Just a one-time thing," she replied. Her voice quivered. "I don't want to hurt any more people."

In one smooth motion, before she could realise what he was doing, his hand found her own. She tried to pull away in case she burned him but he held tight, moulding her stiffened muscles against his own. They still sat on other ends of the disgruntled furniture pieces in a softened silence, connected only by their hands, and she wondered when the universe would stop hurting her like this.

A slow tear fell down her cheek to join its twin. 

Diego frowned. "It's - it's gonna be okay."

"It's not," she argued, panic turning her voice stronger and harsher. "It's not okay, I just can't stop it, sometimes, but I need to, and-"

"Hey, h-hey, you don't have to justify yourself to me. Have you met me? I'm no example kid."

"Sure, but you're - don't put yourself down 'cause of me, Ro-" she caught herself at the familiarity of the nickname, biting her tongue. "-Diego. We are not the same."

"And why not?"

"Cause you throw knives, you're a good guy, you're - you're you. You do all sorts of weird cool party tricks and keep the streets safe like a hero. Me? I'm one tantrum short of a goddamn forest fire."

"That's not true."

"What part?"

"All of it," he spat. "I'm not that guy, just cause I do all things doesn't make me a good guy. And you're not - you're a better person n'I'll ever be."

"Don't say that."

"How many times have you let me in and helped me? Helped others? I mean, you work your ass off just to care for your little brother and family. I turned my back on everyone in my life when I turned seventeen," he said, and she winced when his voice cracked. "Don't make me a martyr. You put other b-b-before you without hesitation, Elodie. Even when you're screwed. That's what good people d-d-do."

The conversation topic had shifted from her abilities to the two of them, she could tell by his words and how passionately he spat them. His eyes glassed over and his chest heaved and fell with every sucked-in breath, after-effects of his nearly yelled words attempting to explain his thoughts. Not what she had expected, but at the same time, what she had seen their conversation going towards, leading down the path of their relationship sooner than later.

"Look, I..." She had no words to suffice to his, trailing off awkwardly. 

"I'm so sorry, 'Lodie."

"Diego--"

"--I don't know how to be a good person," he said. His hands squeezed a little tighter around her own. "And I don't deserve you, I think that we -- I'm sorry."

"Don't say that."

"That day, I--"

Before that moment, Elodie had prepared her thoughts into a sort of monologue to explain to him her side of the story. That it was not that he stood her up, not really -- it was the lack of communication and that both of them rushed without thinking about who they were. That maybe they were screwing themselves over just to hold onto the happy bits and they were too scared to acknowledge what could go wrong. Neither of them knew each other or what truly mattered.

But her heart was exhausted.  All she wanted was the comfort of someone being there with her, and she only wanted him there with her. So she shook her head and let his apology drift past her ear.

"We're both screwing each other up with this."

"It's not-"

"-I don't want to hold onto that past anymore," she interrupted and moved her other hand to envelope his much larger one. "Please, Diego, I don't want to hold onto that shit right now. At all. Of all the bad that is in my life, I don't want you to be a bad thing."

"C'mon, stop that."

"Stop what? That's the truth!"

"Stop--" he gestured between the two of them, separating their hands to do so. "This - we aren't the same, Elodie. I screwed up--"

"--so did I! And we're both fundamentally screwed up! Don't you see that's why I never told you? Because I saw a good man who wanted to be with me, and I wanted more than anything to be a good thing, too. And now you know I'm not that person."

"You're still a good person, and you need to stop thinking of me like I'm that too."

Elodie stood up, trying to establish something by towering over him. But her plan failed when he stood too. She stepped closer so she could stand directly under him, glaring at him with narrowed brows. "I think you're the best person that's walked into my life in the past decade, Diego Hargreeves."

"You deserve better."

"She laughed bitterly. "Better? Right. You know, if you genuinely don't want this, that's fine, but--"

"--I do want this!"

"Than please don't put yourself down at my expense! You have to know, you're, I -- I don't know what I'm doing, and everything's falling apart and I think I'm falling apart and so much wrong is going on, I don't know what's going to be tomorrow or if the sun's going to like, crash into the earth in an hour or so. But what I do know is that I care about you, and I think I might love you, and I don't want to lose you over this!"

Her voice practically shattered at that last word. They both heard it, the fear and pain echoing past her silence into the tiny room. Diego flinched and she shivered, tightening her fists against her side. Not like she would take it back, it had to be said, but maybe she should have been stronger, clearer, or - whatever. It was said.

And she wasn't going to take back what she meant.

No longer able to stand the silence, Elodie continued. "I don't know what we are, but - I want it, no matter what. I don't know where I'm going with this, it's so much easier in the movies with these romantic speeches, but I do really, really want to keep this. I..." She choked back a sob, swallowing. "Please say something."

Diego did not say anything. For a moment they were frozen, staring at one another like suspended silhouettes painting from a puppet-master's hand. But just as she began to give up and pull away, his hand found the dip in her waist, tugging her close to him again.

"What-"

Her voice cut out when his other hand found her cheek, rubbing the thumb across her tear-stained skin. His eyes, shadowed in the boiler room's crappy lighting, darted down from hers to her mouth. She watched as he moved closer and let her eyes shudder close. His breath dusting over her mouth, their noses gently brushing over one another before ever so hesitantly, his lips found hers.

His kiss was gentler than any time she could remember before. It was hardly a brush, a stroke so soft no paint would have stuck to the canvas. She felt like she could cry from his tentative embrace and almost choked out a sound before he was pressing down again, firmer but still gentle. He cradled her face as he kissed her, and held her to him with a care she had felt from him before, but never with such grace. An almost loving touch.

It was only with her insistence that he drew close again. She finally lifted her pale fingers to pull him to her, trailing her hands over his shoulders and over the soft sweater collar until she could just feel the tufts of his hair. Her touch lingered at the nape of his neck, drifting over skin and hair and holding him as close as she could.

Finally, Elodie pulled herself back, but only enough to speak -- even still with her hands around his neck. The itch to be relit didn't pain her so much, anymore.

"This okay?" he mumbled. His mouth still brush against her own. The words were barely audible sounds, and more touches pressed against her skin, reminders of a softness she had eagerly refused. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah, just...thank you."

"For what?"

"For, you know," she murmured, the sound barely reaching her own ears. "For letting me...be here. With you. Trust you, and all that."

Diego's lips curved upwards into a small, soft smile, the one that always washed away his worry wrinkles and made him look so much younger all over again. She only wished he could smile forever. "C'mon. For you, mi amada? Anything."

With that, Elodie pressed forward, hungrier that time, capturing his lips and disregarding the grace of before. He took her haste in strides and pushed them forward so her back hit the back wall. His hand left her cheek to find her waist, tugging her close, as close as he could. For a moment, there was no sound but the slight response each form gave, and the whistles of their city still screaming away.

Elodie leaned away again, smiling as she realised something she had missed. Her thumb pressed to his chasing lips. She chuckled when he pressed eager kisses to the pad of the finger. "Real quick, uh - you know Spanish?"

Diego chuckled and leant in close, lips grazing her ear before speaking. "Qué hermosa te ves, mi amada."

"I don't know what you're saying," she grinned, still leaning in with her teeth hardly bared. Elodie meant to giggle more to him, but her lips were once more captured by his and she fell silent -- though with no complaints from her end.

THEY LAY SILENTLY IN BED NEXT TO ONE ANOTHER, Diego's arm slung lazily over Elodie's body, holding her close to him. Her eyes were on the wall, though, staring forward with her own hands propping up her head.

In the silence, after it all, as they lay naked in the dark, she came down from her high. She still was grateful to be there, and regretted nothing of the circumstances - but the realisation of prior events was hitting hard, and they were becoming all she could think about. And as she stared forward, she found herself unable to relax as she would before.

Elodie turned forward onto her back. She felt Diego shuffle beside her, but through the pain in her head and the slowly building tears in her eyes, she could not focus on him just then. All she could do was clench the comforters to her chest and try not to lose it right then and there.

"There's a reason, I was in the alleyway."

"I figured as much."

She gave a little gasp of a laugh. It ended in her wiping away a lone tear. "Um...so...fuck, I just..."

Seemingly sensing her rising panic, Diego tightened his grasp and moved his head to be near hers. "Shh," he soothed, breath washing over her naked shoulder. "Just...jus...concentrate on the words."

She nodded into the dark and swiped her tear. Her one hand left the comforter to hold onto his arm. "Um...so my dad...his trial was today." She could not remember how much she had told him about him, but judging how his grip tightened and the curse under his breath, it had been enough to give a good picture.

"I've got six months," she gasped, and somehow she could spit her words then, slipping past her tears and into the warm silence of their bed. "Six months, and his dumb--he's free. A free man. And I know it's my own fault, hell I hired the lawyer in the first place, but only 'cause he made me, and I've - I'm just - I thought that maybe this time, it'd be the end. We could live free."

"But he's back now. Six months 'til he's out, and I don't...I don't know what to do," Elodie choked, and suddenly her throat closed up and she could not breathe. She sprang up and coughed on her tears, hiccuping through the violent sobs shaking through her body. She could not even acknowledge his arms around her or the words he spoke, just feeling herself shake and shake and give into the pure fear raging through her body. The comforter fell off her body, but she did not even care, sitting in the dark broken and crying and garbling up curses upon the foul man's name any chance she could through the tears. Which was not a lot, but enough to shake through her system and make herself just cry harder.

Only when she ran out of tears could she truly breathe, and exhale, and open her eyes into the dark to realise where she was. At first, Elodie shifted and moved in his arms, but gave in and relaxed into the hold. Her head fell back to his chest and she sniffled. At least she had him, warm and strong and there, holding her tight against him with his lips near her ear promising her things she could not understand.

"We will figure this out," Diego finally mumbled. "You will."

"You -- you don't know that."

"'Course I do." He paused, probably for some sort of dramatic effect, and then pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "You always do. And...I'll help you through it all."

"Yeah?"

"Course." He kissed her again, aiming at her nose that time. "Whatever you need. Moral support, murder --"

"--no murder," she giggled through her tears. "None of that. Don't stoop to his level."

"Fine, no murder. But anything else, I will be here for. Okay?"

Elodie sniffled and nodded. She watched as his eyes darted around her face, taking in every detail like he had never seen it before. She wondered how she looked in his eyes; what painting was formed behind his warm gaze, and if she would like what she saw.

"Okay," she mumbled, smiling as he kissed her jaw. "Thank you, Robin Hood."

His lips pressed softly against her own, lingering for a moment before pulling away, "I'd do anything for you, you know."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You know why?"

She shook her head. Her breath caught a little in her throat, waiting for his answer.

"Cause I love you."

And he may not know her too well, at least not enough to know that those words were far from the case, but it did warm her heart to hear that. To know she was maybe not so alone as before and that someone believed in her, was a comfort - and no matter how small it was, she needed it just then.

EDITED NOTE - this chapter took it out of me. way back whenever i wrote this, i did not choose to write ANY explanations, no nothing, i basically just said "and then they discussed everything and made up" and thought that was it. and now the chapter is, like all these rewrites (whoops) 5.2k words long...and yet, i feel like it's necessary. Maybe?? Dunno. I sort of hate it all.

But also, I really hope that this chapters shows how young they are, and how little they know about running a successful relationship. Communication is neither of their strengths and while they still know how to work well together in theory, both are just eager to 'forgive and forget' and that is not the way to live or exist in a good relationship. That'll be shown a bit in the next part (season one of tua, baby) but yknow, just have to put that out there.

Finally, side note  - I don't know Spanish. At all. I used Google for these phrases. I saw a headcanon back when I was originally writing this that Grace would teach the kids bits of their native language and I loved the idea, and I wanted to bring it in here.

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