—chapter two.

  ❛ the trials & tribulations of being alive. ❜  

THE SMELL INSIDE A POLICE STATION ALWAYS MADE HER NAUSEOUS. Genuine anxiety-riddled nausea hit her stomach every time she stepped foot in the building. It was a horrible, regretful process and every time she told herself she would not go that time. That she would ignore the call or say she was just plain busy - maybe she would actually make plans, block off the month so they could not argue with her. Or just yell a great big 'screw you' through the telephone and hang up without another word. It'd be at least a little easier on her gut.

And, yet, every time, she showed up.

She really had to work on that.

Elodie's head shot up at the sound of familiar tap-tap-taps on hardwood floors. She could recognize the sound of those stilettos anywhere at that point - like a childhood memory committed to heart, so hard it'd never escape one's mind. The black heels stomped out a nightmarish rhythm spelling out her greatest fears, her worries and the bile rising up to her throat the closer they came.

She could never look at a pair of black glossy pumps without thinking of her.

"Miss Verbeck."

She rose to take the extended hand, not bothering to acknowledge the greeting or her faux smile. It took too much energy, and no matter what Elodie had ever said, the woman always looked at her the same. No point wasting time on calling out pitiful smiles when she would rather just get out of there.

A part of her valued Matialli, she really did. She was good at her job and polite about it too. But there was just a part of the sickly-sweet pity that had been rubbed across her face that drove Elodie mad, and so she could never look at the woman right. Always just past her shoulder, trying her best not to see the sympathy lurking in Matialli's eyes.

Elodie stood slightly smaller than the other woman, though perhaps a credit to the differing footwear was due - considering she stood in simple sneakers and the other in black pumps. Still, she jutted her chin out and crossed her arms, trying to give more power despite being smaller. Which in itself was stupid and pointless (but at least it made her feel a little better).

"How is he?"

Matialli shrugged, flipping open the file folder to glance at her notes. "Same as the last time. Still bad at working with others."

"I know. I'm sorry that you're stuck doing this, with him, I don't know much about lawyers but I do know he's probably the worst client to be stuck with, and-"

-she dismissed her with her hand, cherry-red nails flitting through the hair like sparks. "It's my job. And it's alright. While it's not necessarily the greatest situation, it's what I'm here for. To make this case work."

Elodie dipped her chin down, "right."

She did not say half the things coming to mind, digging her nails into her skin to hold back all the angry thoughts. Matialli always talked in a way that said she wanted him innocent, or even that she thought he was. Which was a nice idea and probably what a good person would go for, defending the honour of someone she once loved and trying to bring justice. But it didn't make her ever feel very good, listening to the woman try and be inspirational to a client that really didn't want anything good to come out of the trial. 

Maybe she should have just saved her money and skipped the lawyer.

She straightened her shoulders and looked back up. "Have you, um, had any contact with the others?"

"I can't exactly - it's not like I can just compare notes with your father's prosecution."

"Well, yeah - I know that, sure. I just mean, how much do you know?" That was another stupid question, clearly. She was a professional and probably knew a whole lot about the opposing side (as she had already told Elodie, multiple times). "M'sorry, I'm just curious what's known and what's not about them. Since the last time we uh, spoke."

The blonde smiled; her lips stretched into a thin red line, and for a second it looked more like a slash into pale skin than any sort of genuine expression. Was she even capable of such? "I can't say much, I'm afraid. But, I can email you an overview of the case, if that would help. As well as preliminary details on upcoming dates, just so you know what to expect."

"Okay. Sure. That'd be great."

She suddenly felt incredibly small, and cold, and she was not so sure why because absolutely nothing had changed. Matialli was still standing there with her slash of a smile and her file folder pressed tight under her arm, and nothing about the building had changed, either. Still worn down wood and shitty brick jobs and the smell of terrible emotions pressed into the walls, and yet just like that, it was getting much harder to even stand. 

Elodie pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth and tried to blink back her anxiety, begging herself to not feel so much over just simple interaction. Her her nails dug garish shapes into her skin, anywhere that they could, until she was sure her palms would break and bleed out unto the too-clean floorboards.

"How often do you, um, plan to come to visit him?"

"Depends on him."

"How do you mean?"

Matialli shrugged. "If he's at least a little bit more honest, I'll have no need to come so much. If he still keeps up with this facade, well...it'll be more frequent visits. But I trust I'll be able to persuade him to work with me, if I can convince him we're on the same side."

Same side. Guilty. Guiltier than a loveless marriage. Why the hell was she here, again?

"Okay, sure. Great." She shifted her weight. "I guess that's it, then. Just, um, let me know and we'll set up those times you need to come in and I'll sign off and all that crap."

"I'll send that info your way, too."

"Great, that'd be...great." She needed to stop saying great, but it was becoming her only defence mechanism and Elodie was already drowning in the feelings of being there - she could not fight her voice, along with it. "Okay."

"Wait, but -- Elodie?"

The brunette stiffened, but still remained focused forward though her feet begged to run her away. Far away, where she did not have to smell the stench of the station or think about the damn implications. "Yeah?"

Matialli nodded her head back to where she had come from. "He's asked for you."

He always asked for her. Every single damn time. And he always said there was something to tell. Every time. As if she was so stupid to fall for that each time she was told that - sure, she went in and still talked to him despite herself, but she was no idiot. There was nothing he had to say to her except for empty words, rambles, song lyrics from time to time - pure gibberish, invented only to hurt the one person stupid enough to help him out of the grave he dug himself.

Maybe she was an idiot.

Elodie shifted her weight. "Any paperwork for him I can fill out?"

"Look, I know-"

-she ignored the soft plea and focused her gaze on the pile of papers in the brunette's arms. "Any of this? Or just-"

"-Elodie, please just stop for one moment?"

At that, she did stop, but only so her widened eyes could be clear and Matalli could know just how upset she was. Her nose flared and her hands shook - though the woman could not see that, only hear the paperwork fluttering by her side. Elodie had been told she had a very friendly face and that was often her downfall, but she knew for a fact her upset showed that day.

"I can't keep doing this," she mumbled really only for herself to hear. Her hands moved from by her waist to hand back the paperwork. They flopped back down and hung like meats at a butcher shop, waving slightly in the wind without a clue what to do with them. "I can't keep doing this for him."

"I understand, but-"

"-I do have a life, you know. A good one." Okay, it was not even close to that. Mediocre at best, she had no business passing such a great lie. "I don't see why I - I mean, like - I just don't see why I have to be here. I mean - aren't you supposed to question him, not me?"

The blonde looked genuinely sorry at that point, not just screaming pity but actually apologetic for what she was forcing Elodie to do. Rather, not forcing - asking, because it was a favour cashed in and less of a decision Matalli was making for the woman. Not that she could.

A part of it, a big part of all of it, was her own fault. She could have things to do, she had before - there was no need to rush in every time and take a place on that small little grey bench and wait until they were ready to tell her what she heard every time. What was the point in even staying in the city, anyway? She had no emotional attachment and save for a pretty good place and a couple of semi-friendships built over the years, there was nothing worth her time there. Not anymore.

"You don't have to see him," she finally said, and again looked genuinely upset for Elodie's sake. "I completely understand, I just wanted to pass that information on." Her arm reached out, hovered hesitantly in the air for a brief second before choosing to pass a brisk pat onto the girl's arm. "I'll send the paperwork your way."

She nodded, hardly looking up. "Sounds good."

"Call if you need anything."

"Yep."

"Are you going to be alright?"

Elodie scoffed, and she felt anger bubble to the surface like a pop bottle. She had been shaken up too much and was too easy to agitate - she was about to explode. Sure, Matialli did not deserve her upset necessarily but she was there and a cause and she had no one else to turn to and snap at.

Her hands clenched tight into fists and swallowed back her words. She still shuddered with emotion, but it was easier to hold it back, lifting her gaze to the woman in front of her. "I'll be fine. Just, please go."

"Okay." The hand meant to be comforting left her shoulder, and soon enough there was a clack, clack, clack of heels stomping down the hardwood floors. She was alone in the hallway, arms crossed and hands in tight fists, ready to attack anyone who dared step to her. She relaxed as time went by, but her brows were still furrowed and despite the normally friendly look to the woman's face, it was clear she was upset about something.

Elodie's shoulders dropped and she swivelled to head in the other direction. Her feet thudded lowly and her head hung as she followed a path that had been walked by those same shoes many a day. People looked her way but she dare not even spare them a glance, not interested in either questions or assumptions - or even bearing the stares right then. SHe would get too in her head and her mind was already making her feel like she was going to burst - there was no way she could stop and consider what they thought of her.

"Hey."

The man looked up, recognition immediately flashing in his eyes. "Hey, can I-"

"-I need to request a visit."

"When?"

"Now, if possible." She had no interest in waiting. "It won't take very long."

Twenty minutes later and she was in, sitting rigidly in the exact same seat that had held her ass too many times to count up. Her arms were folded on the table and even when out of the blue the door rattled and he came in, she did not look away from the wall ahead. Her eyes were level and she had managed to look the perfect image of cool, collected even.

Only those who really knew her would be able to see the tells; how tightly her hands intertwined with one another, the way her cheek moved as she nibbled the inside of it - even the way her brows furrowed slightly, brought together just a little to show the anxiety swirling inside the woman's head.

The guards were not able to see this, but he was, immediately speaking as he was allowed to sit. "You're upset."

"What'd you expect, a smile and a hug?"

"No, you've always been so hesitant with affection." His face puckered into an ugly mockery of sadness. She wanted to punch it right off his face. "But I can see that you're a little bit more upset than usual today."

Elodie ground her teeth. "I'm fine, I'm just waiting for you to tell me what you needed this time." So I can get the hell out of here, ran on repeat in her head, scrambling to get out and finish her thought. She let it die in her mind.

"So hostile...this is not the daughter I raised," he cooed. He had the audacity to move his hand up in an attempt to touch her face - and she shied away as though he could. The handcuffs stopped him halfway, but his hands still hovered, beefy and wriggling like leeches waiting to drain her of life.

"What's wrong, Lola?"

"Do not call me that."

"Oh, but you used-"

"-I used to do a lot of things," she hissed, finally breaking her facade to glare him down. "We all did, before you ruined us."

He found no fear in her words or her anger. In fact, the man never had looked more unfazed; instead, he smiled, eyes alight in an emotion she knew too well. Sick satisfaction at watching her writhe and struggle leaked from every pore of his pallid form; it pooled underneath Elodie's chair, clawing at her veins, begging to be let in and poison her just like it had for so many years.

Her hands dug at the barely formed scars on her hands, picking at the raised skin until she was sure it would bleed. 

"What the fuck do you want from me today? Huh?"

"Language, dear Lola."

Her entire body shuddered at the name. "Don't."

He appeased then, but only a little. "Please, we do not need to fight. We always fight now, never have the good times of before. Don't you miss those days, my dearest?"

One could wonder how one would have the audacity to say such things in such a situation, but Elodie never did. There was never any surprise because he did it every time she visited; acted like he was not in handcuffs and she was not wasting thousands on a lawyer that would probably do him no good, anyway. It was as though she was a teenager again and he still wielded his same two fists of drunken power, holding himself over and gloating, knowing she couldn't get away from him. Even though she could, and she wasn't that same scared little kid...

Elodie fought back the bile building in her throat. Her nails dug deeper into her palms.

Her father preened under her glare, waiting for her to explode and lose her temper on him as she was so oft to do.

But that time, she changed her tune. Her arms refolded on the table and she looked him dead in the eye, as best as she could as he waited for whatever she had to say. Blood stained her palms, but she ignored it and the stinging of the skin; it was nothing, compared to the pounding in her heart. And if anything, it steeled her, gave her the strength to continue on against the monster ahead of her.

A quiet rhythm began as her feet tapped, steadying her and her rising temper.

"We need to talk - and seriously, Dad."

FORTY MINUTES LATER, A YOUNG BRUNETTE was storming out of the police station with very little answered and a whole deal of work to do. Her eyes stared ahead with daggers shot at anyone who even dared to glance her way, and yet she hardly took in anything around her the entire block down to her car. 

She was so absorbed in her thoughts she saw nothing else but the road ahead. But that was not the case for everyone - for a certain individual heading in the same way she had come out, he immediately was watching her storm down the street like a woman on fire. His footsteps slowed and even when the officer behind urged him to hurry up, he held his relaxed pace just to catch a few more seconds of studying her.

Not for the first time, Diego Hargreeves entered the police station grinning. But for the first time in a very long time, the reason for that smirk was different with very different connotations.

Sorry for the lack of Diego in this, but this fic of course has to have a little bit more meat to it then just them. But here's this; I didn't edit it much, half because there's less dialogue and I find my dialogue is much cringier in this than otherwise, and half just...cause I'm tired and all the words are swimming together, haha. The next chapter is longer though, and really cements the whole point of this being a 'Diego Hargreeves' fanfiction, so I hope you're looking forward to that.

And thank you to all the sweet people who are rereading this; I may or may not have cried like an idiot after posting chapter one. Coming back to Wattpad (in the midst of my life falling apart) is honestly pretty emotional, but in a good way and it makes me so happy that people liked and still like my work. I hope this is a little bit better than before, but still as you liked it (that makes no sense, but I'm tired so c'est la vie!). :)

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