CHAPTER FIFTEEN
murphy's law

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NADINE VIDAL had fighting in her blood. It pumped through her body within that vital fluid, streaming through each and every vein and artery to ensure no piece of her was missed. She wasn't sure why, exactly, she'd been born with such a penchant for violence, but it had led to a childhood of bared teeth and knuckles gleaming like rubies. Those fights hadn't exactly been necessary. She'd fancied herself as a sort of vigilante in her school, seeking vengeance on those who had wronged her. Whether she was using her abilities to make bullies wet their pants or punching their smirks right off their faces, she'd more often than not earned nothing from it but a potential suspension and a black mark on her permanent record.

Then she'd gotten shot. Nadine would never forget the Incident, for it had shaped her in such a profound way. She'd come out the other side with trauma, nightmares, and an increased volume on her fury. However, despite all of the harm it had caused, there was one upside: it had inspired her to take self-defence classes. No longer was she swinging her fists blindly; now, she knew exactly what to do. She knew how to use her body to hurt, to really hurt. She knew that her elbows were the sharpest points of her body, and to strike with them when possible. She knew to stay as close to her attacker as she could, and to hit first and hit hard.

All of this had stemmed from sheer paranoia, a debilitating fear that Hazel and Cha-Cha—who she'd known back then only as the pink dog and the blue bear—would come back for her. But then Nadine had arrived at the Umbrella Academy and found that she finally had a reason to harness these skills.

Now was one of those scenarios.

As Nadine, Diego, and Molly all ran up the spiral staircase to the consulate's second floor, they were greeted by the sound of Five's pained grunts and the thud of fists against flesh. Sliding her knife out of her pocket, Nadine bounded up the final few stairs, turned a corner, and found the source of the violent noises. There, underneath yet another fancy chandelier, a blond waiter engaged in a ferocious tussle with Five. She hadn't seen him before, but context clues led her to the realization that this was one of the Swedes. Diego, Five, and Vanya had all interacted with them already. She supposed it was her turn, now.

"Five..." Diego breathed, before gasping in pain. Nadine whirled to find another blond waiter winding his necktie around Diego's throat, effectively cutting his access to oxygen. Diego's hands immediately went to his neck, trying to pry the fabric off, but the waiter—the Swede—dragged him back. Nadine shouted, but before she could reach him, a third Swede approached her, brass knuckles gleaming on his hands. He made a beeline for Nadine, mouth curled into a snarl, and swung.

Molly screamed, and Nadine ducked, expertly sliding under the blow. She kicked out, her skirt billowing around her legs as she did so (fuck, she really missed her practical clothing from earlier). The Swede managed to catch the blow, however, and jerked Nadine off-balance. But before he could try the same move Hazel had two years out, Nadine struck out with her knife. The metal glinted in the light of the chandelier as it whistled towards the Swede's shoulder.

It cut into flesh—Nadine could feel the tear. Blood welled up from the wound, and the Swede wrenched away, letting out a cry of pain. He struck out at her again, but she managed to dodge once more.

"Nads!" Molly cried. It was unclear if the fighting she was witnessing had sobered her up, or if she was still drunk. Either way, with narrowed eyes, she started to run towards the brass-knuckled Swede. As the assassin prepared himself to throw another punch, Molly grabbed him by the arm in an attempt to keep him away. The Swede whirled, regarded her for a second, and then punched her in the face.

Immediately, Molly crumpled.

"No!" Nadine cried. "Fuck! Molly!"

She didn't even have time to make sure her girlfriend was okay. The Swede was coming after her again, teeth bared. Even worse, Diego was still wheezing behind her, clearly devoid of breath. If she did nothing, he'd be dead. And, down the hall, Five fought the third brother. Based on his continuous shouts, it also sounded like he was losing.

She ran forward, barreling into the brass-knuckled Swede like she'd done to the policeman in the alleyway. Yet again, her shoulder caught him in the chest, and they both went flying, tumbling to the ground. Unlike with the police officer, however, the Swede immediately scrambled to his feet—as opposed to Nadine, who'd landed the wrong way and had the wind knocked out of her. While she was busy trying to force air into her burning lungs, the Swede swung a kick into her ribs in a blow that felt as if it was made of steel. Immediate pain exploded into her right side, and the jab sent her skidding a little way across the floor. Somewhere during the commotion, she'd dropped the knife. It was only now she realized it was no longer in her hands.

"Fuck," she hissed through her teeth. Every time she took in a breath, her ribs ached, and although she—fortunately—didn't think she'd broken anything, her vision was still spotty.

As she attempted to stand up again—either to get to Molly or Diego—the brass-knuckled Swede stepped towards the latter and slammed a hefty punch into his gut. Diego groaned in pain as the blow connected, and Nadine winced as if she'd taken it, too. She needed to get to her feet.

Fortunately, although Diego was still grappling with the tie around his neck, he managed to land a hit on the brass-knuckled Swede that sent him stumbling forward. He was close enough for Nadine to get her hands on, and so she did—she swung her fist at his leg, taking it out from under him. He slammed onto the floor, and Nadine—still grimacing every time she moved or drew breath—inched forward and elbowed him in the face. Blood gushed from his nose.

Diego, face purpling, managed to throw one of his knives. But because of his dizziness, and the fact that he was trying not to hit Nadine or Molly, he ended up missing the target. It lodged into the wall near Nadine, and she seized it. It may have been a throwing knife, but it could still be useful.

The Swede still attacking Diego pulled him backwards, towards the end of the hallway. His bloodied, brass-knuckled rother staggered to his feet, aiming to follow. Before he could, though, Nadine—who'd managed to get herself up with the aid of the wall—half-ran, half-limped forward, and jammed the throwing knife into his thigh. It was at the wrong angle, but it still did its job—perhaps too well. For now, blood was streaming from his shoulder, nose and leg, and the Swede was furious.

When he swung at her this time, Nadine was too slow to dodge. It nailed her right in the side of her nose—which was probably the assassin's form of Karmic Justice—and set a new torrent of pain pulsing through her. She staggered back, eyes watering, stars exploding in her vision. Blood immediately began to gush, and not just from her nose. With the punch, the brass-knuckled Swede had also cut open skin.

She took all of that in—the pain, the stars, the blood—in the half-second it took before she was on the ground again. Again. It was obvious now that, despite her skill in fighting, this assassin was better. And it was clear he'd been built in the same factory as Hazel and Cha-Cha. He fought like they had.

Well, at least he didn't have a gun.

Nadine rolled once, twice, three times before she finally came to a stop. There, she assessed her wounds—the ache in her ribs, and the searing agony in her nose. Ribs: not broken. Likely bruised. Nose? She touched a hand to it. She was a little out of it—despite the fact that she knew Diego, Five, and Molly needed her help, she could do nothing but lie there for a minute. And when a fresh surge of pain exploded into her at the gentlest of touches, she swore that the world around her began to spin.

Nose: probably broken. Fuck.

While Nadine lay on the floor, trying to muster up the capabilities to rise once more, blue fabric flashed in her peripheral. One hand still cupping her nose, she turned her head to find Lila standing at the top of the stairs. The woman's eyes widened as she looked from Diego (who was fighting two Swedes now), to Molly (unconscious, a bloody scrape cutting across her cheek), to Nadine (conscious, but obviously injured, and hissing through her teeth as she attempted to stand), to Five (still fighting that single Swede—currently being thrown into the wall). As Nadine gripped onto the wall again, trying to maneuver herself into a standing position, she wondered at Lila's hesitation to move. Had she never been in a fight before?

"Lila!" Diego called out, a pair of hands now clamped around his throat. "Help me!"

She'd go to him. Nadine was sure of it. The two of them obviously had a thing going on—though Holbrook's Sanitorium hadn't exactly been the ideal place for a meet-cute, it worked for the two of them. And besides, Diego was in the most obvious danger. He was dealing with two against one.

So she'd go to him, even if she was a shitty fighter. Nadine knew enough about relationships to know that when a loved one was hurt, it sent you into a frenzy.

But then... she didn't. Even as Diego continued to plead for her, Lila turned around, seized a makeshift weapon from the cupboard against the wall, and headed for Five.

Nadine, who'd managed to stand now, watched her go for a fraction of a second, mouth dropping open. What?

She would've spent more time wondering about it, if not for the fact that Diego clearly needed her help. So, despite her instincts screaming at her to go to Molly, and her entire body jolting in agony whenever she moved, she headed towards him—more specifically, to the two Swedes who'd incapacitated him. Without pausing for a second, she rammed her elbow right into the brass-knuckled Swede's gut, then kicked the other one in the side, forcing him to let go of Diego.

Both of them stumbled away right as Lila ran back towards them. Nadine thought she was going to help now that she'd saved Five, but instead she just stared sadly at him, slipped on her heels, and ran back down the stairs.

Despair crossed Diego's face as he kicked the brass-knuckled Swede in the chest and slammed the other, smaller one against the wall. Nadine took hold of the latter Swede, hands around his throat. With one slam against the wall—uncomfortably like how Harold had knocked her out two years ago—the Swede fell unconscious, sliding to the ground.

She could hear Diego fighting the brass-knuckled Swede, exchanging an array of kicks and punches, and, still trying to staunch the bleeding from her nose, turned away from the smaller one to see if he needed any help. He seemed to be doing well now that he could breathe—even as Nadine watched, he slammed the assassin's head through the window. Glass shattered, and yet the Swede continued to fight. If he wasn't her enemy, Nadine would've admired his dedication.

She was doing her half-limp forward again, trying to reach the battling pair. Diego smashed a vase over the assassin's head. The assassin kept on his feet. Diego assailed him with an earth-shattering kick to the chest. The assassin stumbled. Diego pounded his fists down on his head.

Finally, he crumpled.

Diego looked out the window just as a car beeped. "Dad," he muttered. Nadine froze. Oh, shit. He'd finally found Reginald.

He turned to her, breathing hard. "You okay?" he asked. Nadine could see the imprints of fingers on his neck, red against his tanned skin. Surely, he'd wake up tomorrow with some nasty bruises.

"I'm fine," she gasped, though she wasn't, really. How did she always manage to get so severely injured during these conflicts? Even now, she was speaking thickly. "Go find your father, Diego. I'll—I'll stay here. I need to check on Molly."

Diego's eyes flitted to Molly's prone form. It seemed he'd been so engaged in his brawl that he hadn't noticed her. "Shit," he said. "Is she okay?"

"I think she's just unconscious," said Nadine. "She'll be okay. Just go, Diego."

Although Nadine could tell Diego didn't want to leave Nadine and Molly behind, he seemed to realize the urgency of reaching his father in time. He gave her a nod, and then went barreling back down the stairs, leaving the upstairs hallway empty but for Molly and Nadine. Nadine realized that Five must've teleported away.

She sank down to her knees at Molly's side. "Molls," she hissed, shaking her shoulders. "Molly! Come on, Molls, wake up!"

Molly's eyes blinked open. A thin stream of blood wept down her cheek from where the brass knuckles had caught it. "...Nads?" she asked blearily. Her eyes were far away.

"Molly." Nadine bent forward and scooped her girlfriend into her arms. She was crying, she realized now, and not just from the force of the blow to her nose. Seeing Molly lying there and being unable to do anything about it... she felt so guilty, even if it wasn't her fault. "Molls, it's all right, you're all right, we're going to get you home now."

Molly raised a floppy arm, wiping at the blood that had bubbled from Nadine's nose. "You're hurt..." she murmured. "What happened?"

"The Swedes," Nadine responded, dabbing at her nose with the collar of her dress. Perhaps she should feel bad that she'd ruined one of Elliott's ex-wife's dresses, but she didn't. Not when she'd just survived yet another battle by the skin of her teeth. "One of them knocked you out."

There would be time to chew Molly out for running right into conflict without thinking about herself, but now was not that time. Instead, she just took Molly's hand and squeezed it tight.

"I'm sorry," said Molly. With a wince, she sat up. "I was only trying to help—"

"Molls, it's all right," said Nadine. She could taste blood and mucus at the back of her throat. "I promise, it's all right. But we have to get out of here."

Molly rubbed her cheek, smearing the blood there. Both of them looked like murder cases, with blood staining the fronts of their dresses. Nadine looked down at her knuckles. Yet again, they'd burst open, sending fresh waves of blood down her fingers. That explained the faint stinging she felt there. Fuck. At this rate, they were never going to heal.

She sniffed, the coppery scent of her own blood stinging her nostrils. "I think... I think my nose is broken," she said. But Molly shook her head.

"Not broken," she said. "If it was, there'd be some sort of deformity. It's... it's likely just a minor fracture. It must hurt like all hell, though."

Nadine nodded. She was just about to ask how Molly knew what a broken nose looked like when she remembered that John had been a doctor. She must've learned a heap of facts from him.

"Your head okay?" she asked, helping Molly to her feet. Well, it was more like they both helped each other up. They were both complete and utter messes. "Did you hit it on your way down?"

"A bit," said Molly. "I... I don't think I have a concussion, though. I honestly think I just passed out from the pain. Or shock."

"Well, we'll get it checked out," said Nadine. "Hold onto me."

Molly did, and Nadine held onto her, and the two of them slowly but surely made their way to the stairs. By now, Nadine could hear that the mariachi music had faded out, and the guests were making their way home. She just hoped they could get through the crowd without bringing too much attention to themselves.

Making her way downstairs with her arm still slung around Molly was a blur. One minute, Nadine was gripping onto the railing, gritting her teeth as pain spiked through her, and the next, she was outside, the warm air against her face. Although she'd been in Texas for years now, she'd never quite gotten used to the fact that it didn't exactly have seasons. Back in France, she would've at least needed a sweater by now.

They limped their way to Diego, Lila and Five, all of whom were watching a car drive away. Based on the disappointment etched onto Five's face, Nadine assumed it was Reginald. Yet again, he'd managed to evade them.

Diego turned at the sound of their approaching footsteps, and his face immediately softened. Nadine still hadn't gotten used to that—the softening, instead of hardening. It truly was a sign of how much her relationship with him had developed. "Shit," he swore. "You guys all right?"

Molly nodded. "I think so," she said. "But Nadine was hurt more than I was."

"I'm okay," breathed Nadine, though stars still blinked in her vision.

Lila sighed and scratched the back of her neck. "Hate to be the boring one, guys, but, uh, it's time we get the hell out of here."

After she said it, Nadine became aware of a few sirens shattering the night with their wails, and a crowd of anxious people still hovering by the doorway. Perhaps they hadn't been as inconspicuous as they'd thought. Or maybe something else had happened.

Those piercing wails sent the memory of what had happened last night skittering back into her mind. For a moment, she was standing in front of the alleyway again, listening to the woman scream, watching her thrash in an attempt to get the officer off of her. Nadine bit down on her lip so hard she tasted blood again. It seemed like a vast majority of her traumatic experiences nowadays involved those stupid fucking alleyways.

Lila started walking, trying to lead the group back to where they'd come from, but nobody moved. Five's eyes narrowed. "When you say 'we', who exactly are you referring to?"

She stopped. "Not a lot of ambiguity in that sentence."

Five cocked his head at her. "Listen, I don't know who you are or where you came from, but whatever it is, I'd advise you return posthaste."

Diego moved closer to his brother. "She's right, Five. We gotta get outta here."

Lila clenched her jaw. "I just saved your life, you kinder-shit. If I hadn't stepped in, all that would be left of you is a blazer and some bloody socks."

Nadine turned to Five. "She's right," she said, confused. "Admit it, Five, you could've died if she hadn't been there."

"And that's the problem," Five argued. He looked back to Lila. "You're too good. You ask too many questions. You know too much. And you fight like you know what you're doing. I mean, look at her." He gestured to Molly, who grimaced again. "She got her ass kicked in the first three seconds. But you... you managed to pick them off."

"He's got a point," muttered Diego.

"So I know how to handle myself, and that makes me the bad guy?" asked Lila, anger lacing her tone.

"Whoever you are, you're in my way," said Five. "If I see you again, I will kill you."

Nadine swallowed. She liked Lila, she really did, ever since she'd met her. She didn't want to believe Lila might have ulterior motives for sticking around. Sure, she'd seemed to have recognized Nadine the first time they'd met, but surely it was just because Nadine coincidentally resembled someone else she knew, right? If Lila wanted her or the others dead, she could've just killed them in their sleep. But she hadn't.

Five began to leave, but Nadine, Molly, and Diego all stayed behind for a moment, exchanging looks. Nadine squeezed Molly's hand.

Lila turned towards Diego as if expecting him to move. The headlights of nearby cars bathed her face in a golden glow. "Diego, we need to go," she urged. After a second's deliberation, Diego stepped closer to her, but not to follow.

"I was getting my ass handed to me back there," he said. "You helped Five, not me. Not even Nadine, either. Why?"

"Because he's a kid, she looked like could handle herself, and you're a man. Bloody act like one."

"Where'd you learn how to fight?" Molly asked quietly. Lila swallowed, clenching and unclenching her fists. It was a familiar gesture—Nadine did it all the time when she was trying to reel back her annoyance or anger.

"My mum taught me," she said. "All right? She was always saying that I needed to know how to defend myself—"

Diego cut her off by stepping forward. "Come on, Nadine, come on, Molly," he said. "Let's go. We need to get you both home."

Nadine looked at Lila, taking in a deep breath. She still wasn't convinced that Lila was anyone malicious, but she really did need to leave. "I'm sorry," she said. She really did mean it. Then, still using Molly as support, she began to limp after Diego, gritting her teeth the entire way.

Lila tried to stop them. "Diego, I... I... We shouldn't—"

Diego whirled back around. "You know what? I'm used to dealing with liars, Lila, but I like it better when I know what they're lying about."

He turned back, took Nadine's other side, and began to help her and Molly head back to the car. The gesture was so kind, so... considerate that again, she wondered at it. She and Diego hadn't been friends when they'd fallen into the 1960s, but she supposed they might be, now. The end of the world really did have a way of bringing people together.

As they walked, Lila continued to call out for them. "Oh, come on, Diego. Really? You're just gonna walk away? And Nadine, seriously? I thought we were friends."

Nadine clenched her own fists and managed to resist the impulse to turn around. Sorry again, Lila, she thought, as she finally made it to the edge of the parking lot. I really did like you.

Her nose throbbed. Her ribs ached. Even her hands were stiff and sore. And as she limped into the car, her dress bloodied and tattered, all she could think of was that she should've seen this all coming.

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HAVEN: what? you thought nadine was going to get through this fight WITHOUT getting the shit kicked out of her?? you thought i was gonna be a nice author and give her and molly some minor scrapes???

NOPE!! i am mean, and also like causing my characters pain, so there we go. i also think it's a haven guarantee at this point to have a character kicked in the ribs. i have no idea why. 

fortunately, next chapter, nadine and molly are gonna get a little break, and also have some bonding time <333 we're also getting an apology that was long overdue, and perhaps the start of a friendship ;))))

thanks for reading!! <3