—chapter ten.

  ❛ i'm not sure how anything came to be. ❜  

ELODIE AND DIEGO WERE A STRANGE COMBINATION.

Universally, it was always the thought that two people so similar and for lack of better words, screwed up should not work. They should not even be in the same room together (save for when seven of them had to save the city from great evils or whatever Reginald claimed). Opposites attracted, but two sides of the same coin never met except in their inevitable doom.

Except that could not be further from the case with the two of them.

Whether they would admit it or not, both Elodie and Diego were very lonely people. They spent most of their time with only themselves, and even when around people, it was on the edge of a great precipice, waiting for their turn in. They longed for conversation, for the touch of another or even just a friendly smile, and yet both scorned anything good that came their way in the belief that they did not deserve it. Sure, they weren't going to admit that to anyone and certainly not each other, but that truth was true.

Diego Hargreeves was hardly functional as a member of society. He had a chance to be great; the police academy was a great path and another version of him might have excelled within that system. But he couldn't. He threw away everything good, including a woman he once thought he'd do anything for, for a bloody and selfish path of justice. It was taxing and didn't pay him a single red dime and left him anxious and bruised every single night.

He wasn't even sure why he did it, anymore.

Elodie was a different story, but not that different. Instead of being an amateur vigilante, she worked a shitty bar and at least talked to people, which was more than Diego could say, but there was never a connection. She did not care about the people that came and went, and scorned her coworkers, even the ones she wanted to be closest with. She didn't want their love, their sympathy, because she knew they would only leave her if they found out who she really was. She kept them at arms-length and subdued their troubled looks with a cheerless smile and ignored her burning desire to feel something more than loneliness for a night.

She wasn't really sure how she kept going, anymore.

But it was for the ones they loved, and both knew that they'd do anything for them. Diego never said a word about it, but he'd broken up more fights for Klaus then the man could imagine, and pulled deal after deal to keep his brother out of trouble even when he deserved the consequence. He kept guard some nights of Vanya's apartment and made sure the bastards that yelled and drank outside the building didn't try a thing, just for his own peace of mind. And Elodie played mother to a boy meant to be her brother, sending and doing everything she could to ensure he never had to live the life she did. Even if it meant she lived on the mere scraps of her paychecks, and never got to see his face save for in the pictures her Grandmother mailed her, if he was happy she'd survive.

They fought tooth and nail for people who'd never know their sacrifices, and while it was noble, it was also mostly fruitless. They bottled up so much that when they finally met someone who even shared an inkling of that same ideation, they attached on without even realising it.

They didn't have a relationship - not romantic, platonic, or otherwise. Not really. There had to be communication for that, and neither of them had gotten past their last names. But having someone be there, that was nice enough.

Elodie hummed as she slipped on her coat, marching out of the tiny shop with new fervour. She found a second job in a second-hand bookstore in between a pup and a shoe place; nothing special, but it was part time and quieter than the rowdiness at Wallow's, a welcome change for her afternoons. She never had much interest in reading, that was more her little brother's thing, but the atmosphere was nice. And it certainly smelled a lot cleaner.

She made her way up the street and down the couple of blocks it took to walk home, face burrowed in the collar of her coat and hands balled into tiny fists, sunk deep into the pockets. Her spirits were high and she took the time to walk, no more in a hurry to get from one place to the other. She even had time to stop and pick up some more rice from the grocery store near her apartment, and then drop the change into the gentleman sitting outside, whispering her well-wishes before hurrying along.

When she made it into her lobby, there was a familiar figure dressed all in black, hunched over on the side bench. Elodie slung the bag down from her arms and smiled, "I should be glad you didn't use the window this time."

"Almost did," he admitted with a grin. "But after what happened last time?"

"Oh, right, with Gladys."

"Don't want to kill an elderly just to see you."

She snorted. "Please. That old bat's on her way out and honestly? She's a downright asshole. If seeing your face scared her into death...well a, I would not be surprised. But b, I would not be sorry."

"Wow, harsh, on both accounts."

"Call it honest." She moved to grab the bag of rice again, only to 'humph' as Diego scooped it out from under her. "Dude, you do not need to-"

"-call it chivalry," he teased, already on his way to the elevator. She cursed under her breath, but Elodie didn't really mind it. If only to save her arms from giving out, it was a nice gesture. 

She stepped in with him and leant back against the elevator railing. The seconds standing there made her realise how much her feet hurt - sure, she had gotten used to the pain, but there were still those times of coming home, stopping the constant scooting around without resting and realising the pain those puppies were in.

"D'you work later?"

"Yep."

"When?"

"Uh...ten, I gotta be there. Taking over for Charlie."

Diego nodded. "I'll drive you."

"You sure?"

"Sure. I might as well drive you out when I leave, too."

Elodie smirked at his assumption of staying, but said nothing more than a soft 'okay'.

Diego followed close when she hopped off the elevator, comfortable with where he was going at that point. He even knew where to put his boots, sliding them off right next to hers as they stepped into the house. It was strangely...not nice, because maybe she did not adore the idea that someone was there all too much, but it was somewhat comfortable. If that was the right word.

"Jeez, I really need a - oh, crap," she grumbled, racing towards her kitchen phone. She lifted a quick finger up to Diego, who stood staring at her in confusion, and lifted the device off the wall. "I gotta - just gi'me a moment - hey, buddy!" In a mere millisecond of time, her tone had changed completely.

"Hi, Elodie!"

"How are - how are you doing?" Though before answering, Elodie had debated stepping into another room or even saying she could not talk, all that had thrown out of the window when she heard his voice. Instead, she was committed as always to talk to her brother, her voice rising an octave as she sat on the kitchen counter. "How was school?"

"Good!"

"Just good? You sound more excited than usual...?"

"Oh - there's a new event at the school, teachin' all about robots n'all!"

"Oh, yeah? How was that?" Elodie waved him over, gesturing as she spoke that he could take a seat, or grab a drink, or hell do something. 

He just stood there. 

Dumbass, she mouthed, before returning back to the conversation.

Ellis was clearly smiling, she could hear it in his voice. "Great! Grandmother said I can do it, too - it's every Wednesday after school. We get to code, and..." he went on, but she could hardly understand a word of what he was saying - though she did her very best to listen. Luckily, a couple of 'uh-huhs' and 'wows' were enough to keep him talking, several minutes of explaining this program to her with more joy than she had heard from him in a while.

"That sounds great, bud. I'm so happy you're enjoying it."

"Thank you!"

She shifted her weight and slid her foot from under her butt. "Me? What're you thanking me for?"

"For paying for it. I heard you and Grandmother were talking about it."

"Oh, I-"

"-I know it's 'spensive."

Her heart twisted. Damn that woman and her carrying voice. She should have assumed that the boy would overhear - Elodie had raised him, after all. He had her best and worst skills knocked down, and she had always been the eavesdropper. But it still didn't make her feel good, to know he even had an inkling of what she was doing in the city.

Elodie's fist clenched and unclenched, in rhythm with her teeth gritting. "It's - it's okay, my dude. It actually worked out nicely, so you can do it and it won't affect anything else. As long as you're enjoying it."

"You sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I wouldn't say that otherwise."

Ellis paused on the other end. "If you're sure."

"C'mon, Ellie. Could I lie to you?"

"...no..."

"You know how bad I am at lying to you." That was a lie.

"Okay..."

"So, you like it?"

"Yeah," he admitted, still with that little sounded smile that he did when happy. "I really like it."

They talked a while longer, him going on about school and the rest of his life - mostly just the program, and the kids he met there - with Elodie nodding along and humming out responses. She dared not ask about Grandmama that day, not wanting to talk to her when Diego was there - sure, she was openly talking to her kid brother and that was a huge step, but it would be way too much to even say hello to that woman.

Instead, she carried on until she had to say goodbye. Ellis said he had to get to homework, and she found that segway perfect. "We'll talk later, yeah? I gotta get ready for work soon, buddy."

"Okay. Did you get that photo I sent in the letter? Grandmother said she mailed it to you."

"I haven't checked, but I will. I'll let you know as soon as I got it, okay?"

"Okay! I love you, bye!"

"Love you, buddy," she mumbled into the phone, before setting it back. Her feet uncoiled and she dropped from the counter, sighing through the movements. For a moment, Elodie even forgot she was not alone.

Just for a moment.

"What was that about?"

Her back stiffened. "Um." Her mind raced, fingers scrabbling at themselves in search of an answer that'd work. "A super serious boyfriend I neglected to tell you about?"

"For real?"

She shook her head. Turning, she found he had moved silently up to the other side of the counter, standing tall and draped in shadow. Maybe Batman was a better name for him, but she dared not bring that up right then. "Nah, I'm kidding, obviously"

"You sure you're not just hiding a fiance from me? You guys are just non-traditionalists or sum'thin?"

"Ha - please. If I'm getting engaged to anyone, Diego Hargreeves, they better have a ring to offer me."

His eyes widened a little, but other than that, he gave no tell for a reaction to her words. Instead, he kept grinning and crossed his arms over his chest. "Really, though. Who was that?"

"No one."

"Elodie..."

The woman's eyes narrowed. It was all in jest, but a bit of her was nervous to share even that. So, she kept playing. She reached for a glass and made her way to the sink, finding it easier to focus on that then his gaze. "Just somebody. Really, I hardly know them."

"That, I find hard to believe."

"Why's that?" 

"You don't seem to be the sort to just say 'I love you' to your dentist."

"I'm a very loving person, Diego."

"Huh, funny. You don't seem it."

She turned with a wink, moving past him, "let me rephrase - loving to those who deserve it."

Diego groaned and before she could get too far, he was there right behind her. His arms, covered in the same sweater material he always wore drew her back to him and brought her back to him. She pretended to fight his grasp, but not hard enough to get out - just enough to maintain her point.

"Why won't you tell me?" he murmured, lips finding the crook of her neck. "Thought we were friends."

"I would not put us in that box, but-" she sucked in her breath, gnawing on her bottom lip from both apprehension and the flood of feeling from his touch. "Can we just drop the topic and get on with things, I want to shower before work and-"

"-mm, tempting, but now I'm curious."

"You're always curious, you're fucking Robin Hood."

He spun her carefully, hands pressed into her waist. The smile had died, he was just staring at her, no emotion clear as he waited for her to speak. His actions had ceased and all he did was wait, holding her torso in his hands while she debated her words.

"It was just my brother. Can we get on with this, now?"

"I didn't know you had a brother."

Elodie snorted and moved forward. Now that she had told him, she just wanted to move on, get into what would be certainly more enjoyable than the mention of actual beings in her life. A more cross thought passed through her mind, but she bit it back and settled for a shrug. "We don't know anything about one another, Robin Hood. Ain't that the way things work?"

Even as he answered and she leaned in, her heart ached, though she had no clue for what reason.

SHE HUFFED AS SHE SCRUBBED. She had a headache, her feet hurt too, and the sound of the football game blaring was pissing her off. Not that she could turn it down, though, all considering - making twenty or so drunk idiots mad was not something to tick off her bucket list. People liked to watch the game, and she was not inclined to tell them they could not when that was one of the bonuses of coming to bars.

But she was inclined to throw a quiet tantrum about it.

From behind her, she heard Claire chuckle. "I think that's your fifteenth sigh in what, like five minutes? Setting a new record or something?"

"Trying to. How d'ya think I'm holding up?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't think too highly of yourself. I think last-week would run circles 'round you."

"The night is still young, dear Claire. I might not be, but the night certainly is!"

The younger girl threw her head back in a hearty laugh, blonde bun bouncing with the action. When she finally regained her composure, wiping at her eyes with the one free hand she had, she was grinning from ear to ear. "You do know you're only three years older than me? That does not give you the right to make old-woman jokes."

"Potato, tomato," was all she threw back, already turning away to serve a customer. Claire's laugh followed her way, but she was already past their conversation. 

She sighed as she worked. That damn game was going to be the death of her. Sports were never her thing and even if they had been, all she could hear were garbled screams and yells of plays that meant absolutely nothing to her, with unknown names to match. They could be speaking Klingon for all she knew. 

Just as she mumbled that, the sounds changed. Elodie's head shot up as instead, a news segment began to play. People huffed and sighed, but she could hardly care about an issue that was not her fault. As long as it was not that game for the entire night, she was happy.

Claire shot her a thumbs up; she grinned back, silently thanking the girl for saving her from losing her shit.

"There you go," she said, sliding the drink down the counter before starting on another. The headache was already getting better, pain edging away as she worked and hummed under her breath. There was no telling how long the relief would last, probably only a couple of moments of time, but still. It was something.

"Damn."

She glanced up, raising a brow at the man across from her. His eyes were glued to the screen, an incredulous smile spreading slowly. "Huh?"

"Oh - no, it's just," he jerked his thumb towards the screen she could not see. "People are fucking shit. You know? Dunno know why they do tha' things they do."

Elodie snorted, reacting without taking much stock of his words. "I get it. People are assholes."

"They really are. I mean, is it so hard to mind your own business and be a good person? Do you really need to ruin other people's lives 'cause you're unhappy? They got families, you know - like why'd'ya have ta mess that up?"

"Ha. Got that right."

He gulped down some of his drink. Clearly, a lightweight by the way his eyes were glazed after just his second refill - not even something she would consider that alcoholic, just a shy away from being a mocktail. His hand waved back to the screen, fixated on the news and discussing it for some reason or another. Elodie tuned him out, for the most part, just nodding along and mumbling a couple of yes's to add to his heated lecture. It didn't matter much to her.

It was only at the end of his speech when she actually stopped to listen.

"Sorry - what did you say there?"

The man, gulping back his drink, shrugged. "Tha'guy's a shithead, f'er doin' that ta-"

"-no, before that.  You were saying about the TV, and-"

"-oh, yeah, yeah. These guys always have dumbass names. Like, what kinda name is Artichoke?"

She froze. "What?"

"Fuckin' foods are criminals now," he grinned, like he was saying the funniest joke to ever hit a woman's ears. "Artichoke Tortellini, next we'll have - have - ravioli, or--"

But that was not the name on the screen, Elodie knew it even without asking him to correct himself. Like it was a movie, the television sound cleared and she could hear the reporter as though she was right there beside her, telling the drunken audience all about the upcoming state trial.

"--attacking the representative in front of his family--"

She felt herself grow hot, too hot, but could not stop herself that time. There was no point thinking she could. Instead, Elodie only found herself scrubbing harder at the glass in hand. Only soon it was not really with the cloth, just her fingers furiously rubbing the cup as though they were going to melt the stains away. The man kept talking and her mind kept racing, panicking, repeating the words over and over like a mantra until it was all she could hear and think about.

It was to be expected, and she knew that. Important men got the spotlight and the bad guys had to get called out like it was a stupid movie. And people liked to hear that shit on the news. Didn't they? They liked to gasp and marvel at the audacity some loser had, to hurt a man in front of his kids--

--her fingers ached from their scrubbing, but she only pushed more, sweating profusely. They were practically glowing at that point, but she just kept pushing and scrubbing and begging for the stains to get off the glass, before--

"--SHIT!"

The sound of shattered glass drew attention, naturally. The man at the bar stopped talking and gaped, while others merely turned their heads and stared absent-mindedly towards the source of the noise. They moved on within seconds; smashed glass wasn't abnormal at a bar, and they couldn't see the aghast woman holding it all.

A door swung behind Elodie and Claire began to talk, practically yelling about the glass and how holy crap, herhandswerebleeding, and shouldn'tshegobackandwash, and whythehellwouldn'tshe--

-- Elodie didn't hear any of it. She had stopped listening the second the glass broke. Stopped seeing much, too, just the fragments of light being pushed around in the dim bulbs, washing over her palms and stopping as dark red overcame it. It danced in her glowing hands, and she watched and marvelled at how simple it was, how easy it was to hold the light in her fingers.

But then, the light stopped and Claire was pulling her away and into the back. She had to refocus, open up her eyes and try to fight for a second grip on reality again.

"It's fine," she tried to mumble. She moved to brush the pieces off her fingers, barely cringing at the pricks and stings. At least the heat was gone, though it felt as though her mind had just been plunged into freezing water, leaving it to shiver and shrivel even as the light danced across its palms. She shook her head, trying to adjust to the situation, but as hard as she tried, it came to no use.

"What happened?"

Elodie exhaled, shakily, still trying to free her hands from the glass and then the blood. The blood...

"I...just an accident."

"Come on, this isn't just-"

"-I startled," she bit out, shaking her head free of the cold water. "Smashed the glass on the counter. Tried to catch it, it shattered. It's fine."

The blonde huffed and held her hands down even as she protested. "You're bleeding, you can't just go back to work. Just let me clean you up, Elodie."

Realising there was no escape, she resigned herself to sitting and letting the other work on her bleeding hands. Only she felt nothing and could only sit and stare forward, trying to get the words out of her head, the look of disgust on the man's face, how he had reacted to the news -- and moreover, shamefully, how that matched her feelings on him, too. Despite all that was and what they were, the figurative flesh and blood relationship existing between them, there was no ridding herself of the hatred his mere name brought to her lips.

At least she had thought to change her name before it was too late.

We love a messy chapter.

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