— code of silence

“You’re forgiven. Only because this is probably the best conversation I’ve had with a stranger in a really long time. It’s a good thing, don’t worry.” She chuckled, genuinely and not in a sarcastic or condescending way. She actually found this stranger who she had previously been annoyed with funny. In a strange and rather bitter way, but still funny all the same. “I wouldn’t take anyone’s liver these days. Probably a lung though.” She scrunched her eyebrows in amusement and waved him off. “You’re talking semantics. I own a ballpark. It doesn’t matter which one.”

“Well, sarcasm brings people together.” If Elliot had learned anything, it was certainly that. He was just lucky he’d run into people that found his sense of humor - or lack thereof - endearing rather than absolutely grating. Because if anything described his life, it was lucky. “Mm...no, I smoke, so I probably wouldn’t take a lung, either.” Shame, she could probably get a decent chunk of change for a lung. He didn’t know what was going on. “Oh, it absolutely does matter.”

Shaking her head lightly, Lucy blew a small puff of air from her cheeks as she tool another small sip from ber glass. “You’re never ready to deal with it, you’re never going to be. You just- you just have to at some point. You’re never going to want to feel it or deal with it. Why would you want to? Because it hurts. It can be agonising. But after a while it starts to hurt a little less, you learn to live with it. You don’t move on, it just becomes part od you. You’ll better eventually. Maybe even have another family with someone else one day. It’ll just take time.“ Lucy doubted she was being any form of comfort to him right now, because nothing ever really worked. But if she could then she would try to atleast. “I know. I know it hurts, but trust me there is only so long you can shut it down before it starts to eat you alive. You’re out now and soon you’re going to hit a wall and it’s going to happen. After everything- when I moved out here, when I didn’t feel as trapped I just- I fell apart. I broke completely. You’re going to break and it’s going to be as painful and as hard as it was before. It’ll happen but you’ll be okay. You’ll get through it.“ It would take a long time, but how ever long he needed Lucy had to believe he would come out the otherside of it. Not better no, because something like this would never make a person better. It left a hallowness, a dullness, an ache or void that would always be granted access at the most unusual times. The pain would never fade completely, but it would numb. Some days Lucy now doesnt always think of Alex. But then there were always other days where the pain was so ever present it was like she had lost him all over again. It would fade but always linger and she would make sure it was never really forgotten. She wanted her memories to be of the littlw boy she had loved, not the horrible way he had ended. Pausing for a brief moment, Lucy opened and closed her mouth before asking a little hesitantly: “Do you have people here for you? To help you deal with this I mean..” Lucy had always been a fundamentally kind person. Even if it would rip her apart she would spend so long helping others. And now was no exception. She knew what it was like to experience grief alone and then with the support of others; the later always won. Because no body should ever be fully alone or feel like they were. It could be a crippling devasting silence; it was worst at the best of times. Let alone when grieving for a loved one. “Did you never do that? Just be there because you could? He was carefree, he was a child, there love and imagine is always something brighter than anything we have left at our age. You loose that childish sparkle, he had that. I think I can understand better now. Next time it rains just stand it in, completely drenched. He would have laughed at that.”

Oh and the second she mentioned him having another family that very familiar pang of guilt hit him, like even the mere thought of having another kid was disrespectful to Alex’s memory. Sure, Elliot had always wanted a big family, or at least for his kids to have a couple of siblings to grow up with, but once Alex had died that had all gone out the window. Now it just felt like he’d be trying to replace the child he’d lost - and he could never just replace his son. Alex deserved more than that. Better than that. “Why do we have to work so hard to push through it? The guy who did it - he was just going to get away with it. Get away with destroying three families. If I hadn’t - he would’ve just been living his life with no repercussions. And here I am, after having spent nearly ten years of my life in prison, trying to find some way to put myself back together. How is that fair?” He knew the answer to that question - it wasn’t. It simply wasn’t fair. Honestly, Elliot didn’t know which of the two of them were better off. Sure, he was out of prison, and if he had anything to say about it he was never going back. But now he had to face his life. Face those things he didn’t have to over the last few years. Suffice to say that was going very poorly, if the amount of alcohol he’d been consuming over the past few months had anything to say about that. “I don’t know if I can get through it. This was awful and senseless and just never should’ve happened...” Yeah, so much for that not crying thing. Maybe he just needed to do it, get it out, because crying was supposed to be cathartic. Or something. But it was just another thing not making him feel any better. He ran his hands over his cheeks, taking a few deep, careful breaths to try and get himself a little bit more under control. he couldn’t tell if it was working. It was impossible to see an end to all of this, because he couldn’t imagine it ever actually stopped. He couldn’t imagine there ever being a day where he wouldn’t feel like he was missing a part of himself; where he wouldn’t feel guilty and hopeless for ever letting something like that happen to his child. he turned to look at her, holding onto the little picture like he would run away from him if he didn’t hold it tight enough. “I - I don’t know. Maybe.” He didn’t have a family anymore or any friends that he trusted near enough to share with what he’d been through. Sure, there was Aviana, but in truth they hadn’t really known each other all that long and she’d done enough for him. He couldn’t keep leaning on her, especially when she was going through her own things. “God, I miss him. I hate that he - he was just so friendly. Happy. Excited. A kid like that never should’ve had to go through what he did.”

“That’s Agent Bond to you.” She quipped saucily, flinging a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “Pretty sure I could get more out of you if I wanted.” She was grateful that he didn’t pry about her mother. If there was one thing that she absolutely didn’t want to talk about, it was that particular part of her life. Or her old life, as she had taken to calling it. “Psh, I wish.” She said, rolling her eyes playfully. “Do you know how much money I would make telling people that they’re at least decent human beings? In case you don’t, ballpark figures say that I could afford a ballpark.”

Elliot held up his hands in a mock surrender, letting out a soft breath. “Oh, forgive me my indiscretion.” He dropped his hands back to the basically demolished styrofoam cup, since he needed to do something to work out all that nervous energy he had. Which was apparently too much. “Well, for the record, I think most of my organs should be good to go. I don’t recommend taking my liver, though.” Because with the amount of excessive drinking that had occurred within his lifetime, he was almost entirely sure that his liver was in an awful shape. If it even had a shape anymore. “But which ballpark? Because I wager something like Yankee Stadium would be more expensive than, say...the Florida Marlins ballpark.”

Despite currently being in a modicum of pain that was uncomfortable to say the least she laughed softly. Lara hadn’t been aware she’d attracted a bit of an audience while she’d been beating out her frustration. Only when her wrist pinched and the man raised his voice did she notice him. “Beating out frustration or whatever it is that they call it when you work out to relax or let go. Always a lady but I know when to kick a little ass or in this case look like I can only to hurt myself”

“I don’t know about you, but that,” Elliot said, gesturing toward the punching bag, waving his hand a little bit. “Did not make me feel even slightly relaxed.” He leaned a little more into the seat, fiddling around with the laces on his sneakers because he really didn’t know what else to do. That was more relaxing than the exercise. “Do you need ice for that...or something?”

“Maybe I could have, but also maybe I couldn’t have. What happened with us it’s in the past. I don’t know how good it is to talk about the maybe’s.. I think it’s better if we don’t go there.” Because it was true, they could sit here and fantasize all they wanted to. Maybe she could have convinced him, maybe he would have stayed, maybe they could have been happy again. Maybe. In some dreams in her past they were still together, Alex was alive and they were happy; like they had always planned. They would have more kids just like they’d talked about, he never would have gone to prison and they would be happy and successful. They’d be happy and together. Maybe. But maybe not. The two things seemed so separated from themselves now that it was almost bitter sweet. “I thought that at first too. I packed it all away and couldn’t even touch it. Like i’d touch it and I’d burn and break. But it helps… it hurts but it helps. Sometimes you need to hit bottom before you can be happy again. You’ve hit bottom enough, I’m not going to pretend that I know you now or know your situation. Because I really don’t. But you have to try. For him. Okay? I know that loosing him was a kind of death for us both. But you need to keep living, if not for you then for him. It’s going to hurt. Let it hurt. I didn’t say it then, but I’ll say it now. If you couldn’t do it for me then, do it for him now. Let it hurt.. just feel it don’t try and drown it again.” For so long Lucy had been trying to find small good things in every part of life that she could, she still thought about Alex daily. Similar to how she always lit a candle for him on his birthday, Lucy had known her son. And the last thing he would have wanted was for them to die right along with him. Every time it rained she stood in it, every time she saw something she knew he would have loved she smiled; Lucy lived for him as well as her. Even if he was gone, he’d never leave her. She’d make sure of that. A soft smile pulled onto the corner of her features as she turned her head to look at him. Though the smile didn’t fully reached her eyes the memory was a found one of hers. “Do you remember his raincoat? He was so excited when it got it he refused to take it off. He was so happy. He could spend his days in the rain and watch the sun come back from it.” Her voice was tight and quiet in her throat as her eyes fluttered closed tightly, trying to push back the tears that had cast a glisten over her eyes. It had been years since they had lost him, but that didn’t mean that it hurt any less. She’d just gotten used to dealing with it. 

“No, you’re right. Nothing good ever comes from the what-ifs." Of course she was right. A lot of the time she was. But, really, the only thing he had to do over the last few years was just think. Mostly about all the what-ifs. What if they had done something sooner and found their son. What if he had never done what he did and hadn’t ended up in prison. What if they had managed to work things out and were still together. What if, what if. All those what ifs did was make the reality he was waking up to every day even harder to deal with. But he couldn’t help it - he had been desperate for some kind of escape from his life and it wasn’t as if he had very many other options to distract himself. So he’d chosen what was probably the worst possible way, but it had kept him relatively sane through the many, many hours he’d been stuck inside his cell. “That’s the whole thing though. I just - I don’t want to feel it. I wasn’t able to grieve or feel anything when I was inside and I’m not ready to deal with it.” That was part of the reason why this whole conversation was as hard as it was for him - this was forcing him to face those feelings and it wasn’t just that he didn’t want to do it, it was that he was pretty sure he couldn’t. He didn’t have the coping methods to help him get through this. “It was bad enough the first time. The thought of going through it again is...really not appealing.” He knew that this was just another one of those things she was right about - if he never dealt with it, this would never end. He was pretty sure he would never stop drinking, but really, at this point what did it matter? He wasn’t sure if it did. So, he did what he did best - he grabbed the drink he’d pushed aside and downed it in a quick motion, because he really needed to be drunk if he was going to think about his son. That made it easier to handle. “I never understood what made him so excited to play in the rain. It was impossible to get him to stop jumping in puddles.” Oh, and this was why Elliot didn’t like talking about his son - it was the only thing that could actually get him to cry. He set the picture down so that he could run his hands across his eyes, because he was definitely not going to do this. He drew a line at crying public.

“You wouldn’t have..” She murmured quietly with a small shake of her head. “I don’t blame you for it. It just hurts because it did. We’d just lost our child. I think a part of me thought you blamed me as well. You knew something was wrong from day one.. you said it. I didn’t want to believe it. Maybe if I had, maybe if we’d done something sooner then-” The blonde cut herself off with a small sigh leaving her lips. Some times it was easier to blame yourself than to face the consequences that came from putting that blame on someone else. Lucy found it was easier to fixate it on herself than to point fingers at other people not doing their jobs correctly. Because she had been angry, she’d felt betrayed and mistrusting of people for a long time. Because how could they let this happen? How did they let this happen? She should have been there to pick him up, yes she’d been in medical school but this was her son. He should have taken priority. No matter the time that passed since his disappearance and death; Lucy knew there was always going to be apart of herself that blamed herself for everything that had happened. She was his mom. What did it say about them that they had let something like this happen? Even just thinking about the horrors that their son would have gone through not to mention his death made her feel physically sick even to this day. “That was how you choose to grieve… I was in no position to stop you from doing that. I cared about you, I loved you. That was how you wanted to process your pain then-..I was never one to judge you know that. Besides, would it have really made any difference if I had? You wouldn’t have stopped.. if anything it could have made it worse. The last thing I wanted to do was make it worse. And I- I know. I loved you too. ” She spoke, her last words trailing off into a whisper; her eyes focusing back down on the glass in her hand as her hands wrapped tightly around it, hoping that clinging onto something physical could ground her in some form of reality instead of this nightmare that had consumed their lives for so long. “Hey-” Lucy spoke softly a light frown of concern tugging at the edge of her features as she watching him carefully her brows furrowing lightly. That was the thing about the woman, someone could hurt her time and time again and she would still try to help them in any way that she could. Someone could tear her down and she’d still be at their side trying to help them stand. Now was no exception, but this was different in her eyes. Just because she didn’t love him anymore and they weren’t married never meant she’d stop caring. He’d been her friend too once and though she knew it would be extremely unlikely for them to get even remotely close to that, a part of her would still always worry about his well being. She was a self proclaimed worrier after all. Pulling out her purse, the blonde flipped it open and pulled out the small photographs that she always kept with her. A photograph of Will, one of Amelia and one of Alex on his first day of school. Running her thumb over the photograph a sad half smile on her features, she hesitated for a brief moment before offering it to him. “I- umhm.. I have another one at home. I don’t know what they let you keep or what you had when you got out. But you should have this. Even out here it’s never just going to stop hurting.. I’d be lying if I said it did. It’s always going to hurt, it’s always going to be sad. But atleast this way he’s with you some how. He wasn’t a sad child Ottie.. despite everything he would have wanted you to live again. To try and find something good. I still have alot of his old things-.. if you want anything then you’re welcome to.”

“No, I - I didn’t blame you. I blamed myself more than I did anyone else. I felt like something was wrong but I didn’t do anything.” Because, when it came down to it, it had been his responsibility to look after his son. He had promised himself - not mention that he’d promised Alex, too - that he would be a better father than his own had been and it killed him to know that he’d done an even worse job. For as awful as his father was, at least Elliot was still alive. He couldn’t say the same thing about his son. Sure, he had been paranoid that something happened, but he hadn’t acted on it; he’d done nothing and because of that his son had spent the last few moments of his life scared and alone and that was what Elliot couldn’t stomach. “I don’t know. I wish you would’ve said something. Maybe you could’ve talked some sense into me.” Sure, maybe it would’ve just made everything even worse, but he liked to think that, if they had talked about it, things would be a lot different. Maybe they would’ve been able to find something to salvage, find a way to work through everything together. But that hadn’t happened. And now he knew better, knew that thinking they could’ve done anything to fix what had been broken was just naive. He was sure that there had been couples with relationships far stronger than theirs that couldn’t survive losing a child. That kind of thing was enough to tear anyone apart. He watched her curiously while she went through her purse and the second he saw the picture he could almost feel his heart stop. His first instinct was to deny it, because he really didn’t know if he could handle having any kind of reminders around. But his second instinct was the better one, and he took the picture, nodding a little as a thanks. He had nothing of his son’s and while it had made sense at the time, he wished he’d at least made an attempt to have something to keep with him. “Yeah, I don’t have anything of his. I guess I figured if I didn’t have anything around to remind me it wouldn’t hurt as much, but...” But she was right. It never stopped. Hell, all Elliot did was think about his son - think about the kind of kid he would’ve been had he gotten the chance to grow up. He’d put a lot of walls up over the years, hiding how he’d felt about...well, about everything, and he thought he’d done a pretty decent job of that. But here he was, looking down at the little picture and trying very, very hard not to cry. There were some things that could get through his walls, and Alex was very much one of them. Yeah...this wasn’t making him feel any better at all. “Do you remember how excited he always was when he came home from school? Wanting to tell us what he’d learned or talk about the new friend he made.” He turned to look at her, offering as much of a smile as he could muster, which honestly wasn’t much. “He really was just...all sunshine. Always happy.”

“Oh please, if I was gonna sell your kidney on the black market, I would have been way more Agent 007 about it.” Alba said with a smirk on her face. Despite herself and her initial panic walking into meeting this stranger, she was strangely much more calmer than she was before. Probably because she didn’t really know Elliott or particularly care if he judged her or not. It wasn’t as if he wad deciding on a key part of her future. “The lowest, but that’s a tale for… never.” She shrugged. “Well that doesn’t mean you should say bad things about yourself or that I should accept it. So, I won’t.”

”Oh, what, all you’d want is a kidney, Mr. Bond?” Sure, he was being a little snarky, but that was entirely typical for him. Plus, that just seemed to be the way he was able to talk to people - and she hadn’t told him to fuck off, yet, so he had to be doing something right. “Hey, I’m not going to ask.” Even if it didn’t seem like a sore subject, he was really the last person to delve into anything serious with anyone. He wasn’t so great with the serious topics. “Is that right? Do you charge for your therapy sessions, doctor?”

“You can live without one of your kidneys. And part of your liver. Plus, if you do it right, a black market dealer could totally drug you and take out an organ without you knowing.” She said nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders. “Well, it’s better than most people. Hell, you’re doing better than my own mother.” She stopped short and tried not to draw attention to how clammed up she got when she spoke of her mother. Everything about that woman pissed her off. “It was a negative against you though, which isn’t okay.”

“Mhm...and now I’m worried you’re going to drug me and remove my organs to sell on the dark web.” Now that was more of a joke than anything, but if there was anything that got Elliot’s paranoia going, it was shit like that. Of course, everything made him paranoid, but that especially. “Well, that must be a really low bar.” Not that he knew anything about her mother, but from the way she sounded when she mentioned it, that was nothing good. Yeah, he could empathize. “Oh, hon, I’ve said much worse things about myself.”

“I mean, technically, they could sell you for parts. That’s what the black market is for. But I don’t know.” She gestured to the busy cafe around them. “You’re here, buying coffee, conversing with a pretty awesome person. So I would say you’re sort of functioning on some level.” She was trying to be optimistic. That was who she was. When it came to herself, she could be as negative and self-critical as she wanted. But something about someone else doing it rubbed her the wrong way. “Useful depending on your perspective of what that word means.” She said with a roll of her eyes. “Yeah, but you said it with a negative, so it doesn’t count.”

“Pretty sure I have to be dead for that.” And he was about 98% sure that he wasn’t quite dead yet, though that certainly wasn’t out of lack of trying. It was a miracle he was still alive, honestly. “And this is the best it ever gets.” He could tell she was just trying to be optimistic, and while he could appreciate the attempt, whatever optimism he had left, if any, was being very, very loudly overtaken by pessimism. He just didn’t quite do hopeful anymore. “I mean, if you can get something out of him he’s gotta be to at least moderately useful.” He offered a shrug, because what did he know. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a negative against you.”

“Make it work?” She repeated a little surprised as she looked back over at him before giving a small shake of her head. “Do you really think that would have worked? Because for once I don’t…I think we were too far gone at that point.” Typically speaking no matter the situation, Lucy always found herself holding onto some form of hope or light. With everything in the world seemingly destructive, it didn’t seem to wrong to want something good. Where as some saw her hope as naivety to Lucy it had always been a strength and necessity. She hoped her mom would get better, she’d hope Alex would come home, she’d hoped Elliot would stop drinking. Perhaps it was foolish, but hope was always something she had tried to keep as close to her as possible. Because more often than not, hope was all she had. If she really thought that they had some form of hope, she would have tried to visit. She would have fought for them more than she already had. “I know.. I’m sorry- I’m just surprised.” She murmured quietly. Despite everything and despite the colourful commentary from everyone at the time; Lucy still never saw Elliot as a bad man or in any way a evil. Because he wasn’t. He was a good person that bad things had happened, despite his decisions Lucy still liked to believe there was some good. In truth, they were just human. Who, at the core, were impeccably flawed. "And I needed you then..I’m not-“ Lucy murmured with a small shake of her head. "I’m not going to yell at you. That’s not-” The blonde cut off with a small sigh as she took another sip of her drink. Even her breath felt heavy in her chest as she kept her eyes focused on a fixed point in front of her. "Do you remember what I said to you before we got married about my family? How it almost felt like I was watching the titanic because I wanted to help everyone so badly that I was letting myself freeze. But you helped.. I don’t know- you just-“ Lucy paused. The memories saddened her, not because they weren’t happy. On the contrary, they used to be painfully happy. A happiness that the woman often doubted she’d ever feel again, but it just took time. Now it just felt bitter sweet. Looking across at him, there was a sad half smile on her features as she admitted: “You saw the invisible girl and made me feel like I could breathe again. After Alex… Elliot you made me freeze, you turned me invisible. I was trying to hold everything up, looking after you, the police and everything- I- I couldn’t even grieve my own son. Our son. You made a choice, everyday after he was lost. You made a choice. Every day, week and month. I just had to watch you poison yourself. I lost you too and I couldn’t help you.. I tried and I’m sorry. But we were married Elliot, it felt like you forgot that. Like you forgot me. It was almost like you were mourning your son and not ours. I was-.. I was drowning too and you let me freeze.” Though he wanted to talk there were still things that she’d never admit to. Times when she was crying in locked bathrooms terrified, how she felt dread every time she heard a police siren thinking her husband had been killed in a drunken state, or the fact that sometimes she had thought about doing exactly what he had done to the man that killed their son. 

“No. I don’t.” He didn’t even hesitate in saying it - they could’ve fought like hell and he knew the outcome would’ve been the same. It probably would’ve made matters even worse, because there were so few things that were harder than fighting for something only to have it not matter in the end anyway. “I used to, though. I thought that if we could just sit down, talk, that it would - would work itself out somehow. But after I was arrested everybody stopped listening, so.” He wasn’t stupid enough to not understand the why, and honestly, it was probably more than justified, but that hadn’t made it any easier. He took a deep breath, because he just knew he had to brace himself for this - they were delving into territory that he had been trying so hard not to get back into, but he supposed it had to be done. There was no other way he was going to get past this. For a moment, he stared intently into his glass, but as soon as she started talking he turned his gaze to her, he figured the very least he could do was look like he was listening. He owed her that much, if nothing else. But, still, he found himself turning away when she mentioned their son - it was inevitable, especially in this conversation, considering what happened to Alex was the catalyst for every single terrible thing that occurred after. Even so, Elliot still hated to hear his name. It probably made him an awful person, but he couldn’t help that even the mention of his name brought up so much anger and pain that he hadn’t learned how to deal with. This was why he’d started drinking again; everything that he’d had to ignore over the last few years had finally caught up with him and he just...wasn’t equipped to handle it. “I never realized I was...” he cut himself off, tightening his hands around the glass that he really didn’t want to drink anymore. Maybe there had been a part of him that had realized what he was doing, realized that he had gotten too caught up in what he was feeling, that he’d put himself first instead of trying to help her. Maybe he’d realized, but had chosen to ignore it. He didn’t even know anymore. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, even though he had a sneaking suspicion that he might already know the answer to that question. “I loved you, Lucy, I really did. And I think I wanted to be there...but I was just so angry. At us for not doing enough to keep him safe. At him for going anywhere with a stranger when I knew we’d taught him better than at. At his teachers for not realizing he was even gone until it was too late. At the police for not finding him soon enough. At everything and everyone and none of the right people. By the time I was finally angry at the right person, well...we both know how that ended.” He pushed the glass away and instead ran his hands over his face before locking them at the back of his neck. This was a horrible idea, he didn’t know why he’d wanted to do this. It hadn’t made him feel even remotely better. “I am so sorry. Not for what I did, but for what I didn’t do. I left you to deal with everything on your own and I shouldn’t have and I’m sorry.”

The comment caused him to laugh and Ben shook his head a moment, rolling his eyes very playfully as he reached for his coffee. “I was that loud, huh?” he questioned, chuckling softly. “Really didn’t mean to be… she just — she makes me so incredibly angry sometimes.” Of course, getting angry wasn’t going to help anything at all, he knew that. In fact, his temper was likely to only spur her on in things staying exactly the same.

Elliot made a seesaw motion with one hand, because, yeah...he had been kind of that loud. While he got some - not necessarily joy, but maybe a bit of comfort in knowing that people had it just a little worse than he did, he could hardly judge. “Hey, I’ve been there. Not in the exact same position, maybe, but I get it. But, man, getting angry is only going to make it worse.” Sure, he should hardly be dispensing advice to anyone, but Elliot and making terrible choices out of anger were very intimate friends. He knew that nothing good ever came out of getting mad.

“Well, there are fans who are not okay with me, and I  quote, getting in the way of hollywood’s next power couple. Not that I’m complaining because like you said, there are worse things to be on the news for.” Amelia then wondered if the man in front of her experienced that but it did not seem like an appropriate thing to ask him. “Anyway, hi. i’m Amelia and I an sorry for meeting you like this.”

“I honestly don’t even know what that means.” It was entirely possible that he was just an idiot - okay, that was more of a certainty than anything - but he didn’t quite get it. Maybe it was a New York thing. It had been a very long time since he’d been back. “Hi. Elliot. It’s...fine, not like you did anything wrong.”

Alba couldn’t help but frown at his comment. It was true, she got down on herself at least twenty times a day, but she never really meant it when it was all said and done. There was something definitive about his tone that didn’t sit well with her. “So… you’re a malfunctioning adult? How does that work? Is there a part they recalled or something?” It was a stupid joke, but a joke nonetheless. She at least smiled a little when she said it. “Francois is an asshole, but he’s asshole that’s somewhat more respected in the fashion industry than I am, and that means something to some people. And if I didn’t think it was nice to meet you, I wouldn’t have said it so… again, nice to meet you.” She suddenly put on her best “brooding” expression and dropped her voice low. “Oh thanks Alba, nice to meet you too. That would be the appropriate response.”

“You joke, but...” Elliot trailed off, because that was probably closer to the truth than she had intended. Yeah, there were probably several parts of him that were very..wrong. “Kind of like a broken car, except they can’t take me to a junkyard and crush me into a cube.” He shrugged - joking, but not really. “Most of that sentence was impossible for me to comprehend, but at least he’s a useful asshole?” He supposed that as long as there was something even remotely useful about someone, a lot could be tolerated - even being an asshole. Maybe that was why nobody tolerated him, because he didn’t really have anything to offer other than being a pain in the ass. “Hey, I did say it was nice to meet you too.”

‘Let me take care of you for a change,’ what a foreign statement to hear. To even remotely think about letting someone do that for her felt off, like it wasn’t supposed to happen. Aviana was accustomed to taking care of herself, and she felt that she had been doing a decent job—or so she thought anyways. Her mental health could use some work, but her physical was pretty good…well sort of. Thinking the phrase over for a few seconds, she let a small smile start to from on her features as she took in his features and the worry that was written all over them. Slight nod in her head, she spoke. “I think I could try and let you do that,” she states softly, before moving a bit closer towards him. “I trust you,” stated right before she moved to place her lips against his in a gentle manner at first, hand giving his a squeeze.

Since he didn’t have very many people he cared about, he did tend to go...perhaps a little overboard with those few people. But, honestly, he had done so much worse than care too much about someone - and even though she probably had a lot of people in her corner, there was no such thing as too much support. She was the kind of person who spent so much time worrying and looking out for everyone else he was worried that she didn’t spend enough time looking out for herself. Well, he hoped that was what he was for. He returned her smile, more than a little grateful that she trusted him, because he knew how difficult that was. Trusting someone meant letting them in and that was often one of the hardest things to do. “You’ll be okay. Not immediately, but you’ll get there. And I’ll do whatever I can to help you along the way. If you need anything, come to me, okay?” He just had to hope that she would come to him if she needed something, but it was hard to rely on people. He brought his free hand to rest against her cheek when she kissed him, trying to be gentle as possible.

Straightening where she sat, the blonde hesitated for a moment before raising her hand to get the bartenders attention and ordering herself another drink. If they were going to do this, then she definitely needed something to dull the painful ache that she felt right now. Hell knew that he had done it enough for both of them in the past, though she never blamed him for that. How could she? When a part of her had always longed to do the same thing. Taking a sip of the drink as it arrived, her nose scrunched lightly as the liquor hit the back of her throat sending a slow burn as it went. Her voice was quite as she spoke, there was an unsteadiness to it; a shake of unease. Perhaps it came from the anger and pain that she always had left unsaid, or the fact that she was looking at someone she once loved and practically saw a stranger; but it was everything and more. "And what do you want me to say Ottie?“ Lucy murmured with a small shake of her head, her throat tight and exhausted before they had even begun. Taking a breath to try and steady her nerves, she paused for a moment before continuing: "There are so many things I would like to say to you Elliot. Most of them curses so I think they are better left unsaid especially here. I havent seen you for nearly ten years because you were in prison. Prison Elliot. So i apologize if i’m not being the most accommodating company for you. But when I said that I didn’t want to see or hear from you again I-” Cutting her words off the blonde gave a small shake of her head pulling her gaze away from him and down to the glass in front of her. There was evident pain and anguish between them, pain which Lucy had thought she had come to past; or had at least subsided. But with how everything ended it was no surprise that even his name left a bitter taste in her mouth. Lucy tried to keep her voice as quiet and even as possibly. She had always been a private person and the last thing that she wanted was for any attention to be drawn to them. It was a private matter, yes the placing wasn’t ideal, but she’d like to keep it to simply themselves as much as possible now. They’d have enough prying eyes and whispered comments when everything fell apart, so much so that even just some unwanted attention made her feel uneasy. “I have a life here now.. when i said that I was trying to start a fresh again with someone. Everything with us, everything we had, everything we lost.. I didn’t- I would never forget any of it. I’d never want to. But it hurts even thinking about it, let alone looking at you. I had a chance at something good again-.. Its different now. It’s different- but I.. but I still mean it.” Swallowed thickly, she averted her attention away from him and back to the drink in her hand, staring at it quietly. 

He didn’t know why he’d expected this to go any differently - how much did their history count for when it had fallen apart the way that it had? Maybe he’d expected that the years had tempered whatever ill feelings she may have had for him, but then that was just wishful thinking. He didn’t know how he’d feel if it were the other way around, but he couldn’t imagine he’d be reacting any differently. She had every right to hate him, hell, he couldn’t say that he didn’t hate himself for everything that had happened. “I know where I was, Lucy,” he said, a little stiffly. Like he had forgotten that he’d spent more of his life than he had ever wanted to literally behind bars. “You could have come to see me, we could’ve tried to do something - make it work...” He said that almost as if he believed that would’ve been possible, but even back then, when all of this was still new and he was still stupidly hopeful he didn’t believe that. Things had ended for them the second their son hadn’t come home. It was senseless and it was heart-breaking, but it was what had happened. He hadn’t wanted to see it then, didn’t want to believe that had been the end - but he knew better now. It was almost impossible to think that this had once been the woman that he wanted to spend his life with. “Look, I’m not trying to force my way back into your life - if I had known you were here, I would have went anywhere else,” he said again, because he really needed her to realize that he hadn’t done this on purpose, that he wasn’t some terrible mastermind - that it had just been some cruel coincidence. Because apparently the universe wanted to fuck with them both. “But I need you to talk to me. Yell at me. Something. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never gotten the chance to move past this.” He didn’t know if talking to her would really help, but at this point he was so lost that he had to try something otherwise he would never get his life back on track. If it even had a track anymore. “So please, just say what you want to say.”

“I think it’s appropriate for any slightly functioning adult.” Alba told him with a definitive nod. It was certainly appropriate for her, since she always seemed to be in overdrive these days and by the end of them, she was certainly a dead pompom. Trying to be optimistic, but obviously failing. She rolled her eyes playfully and let a laugh tumble from her lips. “Francois is supposed to be one of my senior mentors for my internship. I say “supposed to be” because obviously he’s not here. Which is sort of good news, because he’s an elitist Frenchman who doesn’t really, really care about me so… I’m sort of, kind of glad you’re not a gay Frenchman named Francois, Elliott. Nice to meet you.”

Slightly functioning. Yeah, he wasn’t anywhere even close to being a functioning adult. Not even slightly. “Yeah, I’m not a functioning adult.” Hell, most of the time he wasn’t even sure if he was an adult. He sure as hell didn’t act like one. “Well, Francois sounds like an asshole, so it sounds like you’re better off without him.” Of course, he had next to no idea what she was talking about, but he was good at being able to tell when someone was an asshole. That was maybe like, his one talent in life. “I wouldn’t say that so soon, but it’s nice to meet you, too.”