El loves to joke and play with Mike, using her powers to hold something out his reach (because he does that sometimes because he’s just so tall, before she just jumps and wraps her arms around him and they fall on the couch together, laughing their heads off) sometimes she’ll use them to keep him pinned down on the couch or in bed whenever she’s tired and just wants a few minutes more of cuddling.
But she only ever used them against him once. It was in their worst fight, shouting at each other very passionately which hardly ever happens. In a moment of pure anger she screams and Mike just goes flying back against the wall of their small apartment and she instantly stops. Running to his side and cradling his face in her hands, tears streaming down her face. The words of 12 year old Mike come screaming into her brain.
“What is wrong with you?”
Echoes of the past, haunting her. The only other time Mike had truly raised his voice at her. He was right. What was wrong with her? She was the monster, even after all these years of Mike insisting she wasn’t.
“Mike?” She shook him but he wasn’t responding. “Mike!” El was frantic, her voice hoarse and desperate.
She collapsed, burying her face in his chest. What had she done?
After a few moments, Mike began to mumble and shifted under her. Immediately she sat up, not bothering to even wipe away her tear stained cheeks before pulling him to her.
“El? Are you alright?” Mike lifted her head and brushed the hair from her cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears. This is what broke her. Even after she literally threw him against the wall in their biggest fight, he was still concerned about her. Still put her first. It made her feel sick.
“No, I hurt you…I hurt you.” She just whispered over and over again. “I’m the monster…I’m the monster…”
She hesitantly reached out and ran her hands through his hair, rubbing where he had hit his head against the wall, a small lump forming.
“I’m alright.” He insisted but she knew that wasn’t true. “It hurts a little but I’ll be ok. I’ll be ok…” He tried to reassure her.
“It’s not. We were fighting.”
Mike sighed. “Yeah…we were. But we always work it out. We’ll talk about it, make it right again. Together. Because even though we might fight sometimes, that isn’t going to change how I feel about you.”
“But I’m the monster-”
Mike shook his head, wincing slightly as a sharp pain shot through it. “You’ve saved me more times than anything bad you’ve ever done. You’re not the monster.”
“I’m sorry Mike.” She whispered, leaning her head again against his chest.
“I’m sorry too.” He kissed the top of her head, still cradling her in his arms. How long they stayed like that they didn’t know. Both just needed to be in each others arms, the feeling of safety and comfort slowly coming back. They weren’t perfect, they still fought, but they would fix it, together. Just like they always did.
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