Extreme stupidity called for extreme measures. Or it was a good idea at the time. Which is...mostly how a lot of Nekane's plans have gone in the past.
Between the blankets and the darkness under the bed, the only thing really visible of Nekane is their hair. Although they do shuffle the blankets around a little so one eye is visible, much like the last time when they stole the blankets from Héctor.
"An hour and no." It's an honest answer. "Just trying to deal with my own fucking idiocy. Also it's comfortable here."
They'd say they didn't break something that wasn't already broken, but they know how Héctor would react so they don't. Instead they just give him a very flat look.
"It is comfortable. I ain't lying about that." More spacious then a closet.
And at his offer they actually shuffle back. "And I ain't gonna stop you from coming under here. Or you could give me fucking pop-tarts or something and I'll come out."
Nekane is pulling something out of memory that they bet Héctor hasn't heard about. They hope.
Nekane is getting a flat look right back. He knows they're holding back a dumb comment. He wants them to know that, even unspoken, he's judging. He's also judging what is spoken.
"You know I can just go a room over and ask one of the boys. They're both from the future. I bet they might even have some tart thingies. They might even have better."
And yet, despite saying that, he's doing the military crawl to try and shimmy under the bed. Because they're both stupid.
"I'm real curious to know where you got this wierd burrowing instinct from," He says, having jammed himself in enough to be a curled up reflection of them. Mostly because he likes looking at them. It's comforting.
They roll their eyes because they know he's judging and they don't care he's judging. Or at least, judging them for this bullshit anyway.
"Maybe. Didn't tell you the flavor I like." Not that it would make enough of a difference. He could just keep picking until he got it right. Mostly they're sticking with it out of pure stubbornness.
They're surprised though when Héctor actually joins them under the bed. Even with their wings there's enough room for the two of them.
"Always had it." Which is true. Even long ago they found a strange sort of comfort in small places. The hording tendencies....that's something else. "Small spaces are fine. And it ain't like people check under the bed as often as you might think."
"It's a tart. You're not that picky," He says. There's faint amusement under the deadpan delivery. He'll have to test out later what flavors they like best. Even if they're bound to be stubborn now that he's said that.
They've always hid then. Or, they've always hid to seek comfort. It almost makes sense. Almost.
"But I look under the bed," He says. "I hide my guitar under here when I'm out. I figure you knew that." Which means that, although they hid, they wanted to be found. Specifically, they wanted to be found by him.
"So," He starts, voice softening now, "Besides something stupid, which you said already, why are we hiding?"
"I don't break into your room that often, you know." Which...has a lot of implications, they know.
But he figures it out pretty quickly and their resolve to actually tell him about this crap sinks a little. It isn't because of the judgement. Or at least any judgement coming from Héctor. And logically Nekane can't even judge themself because of what was involved or hell, they can't judge Dodger either.
But they've judged themself harshly all of their life and sure aren't about to stop now. So they suck in a breath.
"My own fucking stupidity. And love potions." A pause. "And...Dodger..."
And with that out in the air, Nekane's going to do a damn good job of trying to smother themself with the blankets.
The flat look returns just for that statement. And all it's implications. They break in his room enough and apparently more than he's actually aware of. They don't even need to break in, he'd welcome them in any time, but here they are.
He waits patiently all the same, letting them take their time to get it out. He should've realized it was something big, considering they're huddled under a bed, but he wasn't expecting what he gets. The surprise is obvious on his face.
There's a brief twist of fear, thinking they may have been hurt again, but Nekane said love potion. That's enough to let it sink in.
"...oh..." Is all he says at first. He... can't blame them for the smothering. He knows they hate Dodger and he can't blame them for that either even if his own feelings are... a mess. A bigger mess. But eventually, he reaches out to stop them.
"Okay. I may have had the same thing happen. So. I get that." Just to get that out there and out of the way. "But, more importantly, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
"No, he didn't. Pretty sure he was drugged to." Because they can't think of that man and Dodger as they know him as one in the same. Sure, it's entirely possible he drugged himself to give a sense of plausible deniability but Nekane was willing to say that could be their paranoia and judgement at work.
He pulls the blankets away from their face and they only half attempt to stop it. Largely they don't put up much of a fight because they're also paying attention to what he's saying.
"You alright?" Since he said he had the same thing happen to.
"Okay," He says, breathing a sigh of relief. "Okay, good. I mean not good, but he didn't- he- I don't have to die trying to kill him." Which isn't as much hyperbole as it may have once been. He can just focus on how Nekane's feeling.
Or rather, he can once he gets his own explanation out of the way.
"I'm fine. It's already a sin on my list." And a vice on his heart for that. "He's careful with me. I think it, maybe, might have been good in a way." It might help. But he'll have to talk to Dodger about that soon.
"But things with he and I are different. And things with you and me are different than with you and him. How are you feeling?"
They narrow their eyes when Héctor says he doesn't have to die trying to kill Dodger. Nekane knows the man would have no chance against Dodger unless he somehow caught him off guard and got him in the neck with a knife or something. They'd really rather he didn't fucking try, as hypocritical as it makes them.
"Just because it's on your list doesn't make it not shitty." They know Héctor has the feeling of self-worth in the same way a goddamn peanut has self-awareness, but come on. "And even if he is careful it's still Dodger."
There's only so much they'll give him. But at Héctor's next question they sigh. "Shitty. I...don't like choice being taken from me. I really fucking don't." For both them and Dodger. He probably wanted nothing to do with them after the shitshow that was his birthday party but nope, love potion.
He doesn't say that, of the many people he could have been drugged into doing all that with, Dodger is probably one of the better ones for him. Someone who already knows his body, and his fears with it, but isn't about to jump that line. It's still shitty, as they're saying. And understating for themself.
"I know," He says softly. He reaches out with a sorry look. He brushes a piece of their hair back from their face. "It would be terrible for most people, I think. But you've lost a lot of choices already." Too many. More than anyone he knows.
His brows furrow.
"Hell has no right to your body. Or your mind." He shakes his head. "But Hell takes. So it's not your fault. Or because of any stupidity."
"Tell that to me." goes unsaid like usual. It's not that they don't keep the advice and words of others in their head, it's just a toss up if they'll actually take it.
They go a little cross-eyed focusing on where Héctor's hand goes but leans into the touch eventually.
"Don't leave yourself out of that." Because he's the same as them and Nekane has not forgotten the fact he does have those stupid candies. "Your body and mind are yours alone, and I will fucking punch you if you say otherwise."
When they lean into his hand, he runs his thumb over their skin. Just a little light touch. They're safe, they're here, he won't hurt them.
He falters a little when they call him out. It's harder to take advice than it is to give it. He knows that too.
"I won't forget," He promises. "I, ah, may have shared those words." They'd helped him. They still help him. But it's a terrible irony. And it's a lot of information about Dodger just in implication. He doesn't like to give either of them ammunition to wound the other. They do that enough as is.
"Are you going to be okay?" He asks them. He pauses, then adds, "I'll find you all the pop tarts I can, no matter the answer."
It sure is an implication but Nekane doesn't say anything about it. They just quietly note it down for later. If that's a good thing or a bad thing, they'll leave it up for the future to decide.
Probably a bad thing.
They snicker at the pop tart comment. "No, I'll be find. Just ain't exactly a great memory." Well, strictly speaking, it was but they were also making out with someone who they can't fucking stand so that ruins it.
Dodger cleans up well and it pisses them off.
"I'll come out when I stop feeling the urge to smack myself." More then they already have.
A faint smile flickers over his face when they snicker. He's glad that went over well.
"Maybe you can pretend it was someone else," He suggests. "Señor...Guapo. Or Señorita. Detective extroardinaire. Incredibly suave too. I hear they're promising an archive to the first to capture their eye. And a back massage."
That probably won't work. But maybe it will make them smile. He hasn't moved his hand from them.
"You wouldn't like me hurting myself," He reminds them. "Try to be kinder. I'll say it again that it's not your fault."
Nekane immediately fixes Héctor with a very flat look, although he's known them well enough to see the corners of their mouth are fighting not to rise at that.
"Sure but that makes me think of John. And if you're suggesting I think of him while fucking I'm going to smother us both with this goddamn blanket."
It's do-able, considering John's ability to change his form into whatever he wanted with his glamours. But Nekane knew the man's personality (and it sure isn't attractive) and knew he'd probably use their head as a golf ball if they tried it anyway. So no.
But he makes a good point. "I know. I just should fucking know better to not put my damn drink down or whatever." Even outside of Hell they knew better. So it's just dumb.
"And fucking thank both Lucifer and God for that." John had his own hangups about a lot of things and adding Nekane's own issues into the mix would be a utter disaster for the both of them.
Besides, as much as they felt like they owed John for what he did, Nekane sure didn't want to owe him that way.
Héctor has a point but it doesn't make them feel any less stupid. Particularly considering the details but they are not going there for both of their sanity.
"Think I'm just getting too relaxed then. This crap has to be avoidable in some manner."
It probably isn't. But that's their hope it doesn't happen again.
It's a sorry state of things when Nekane is willing to give thanks to either of those names. He gives a wry look for it.
But, he's soon shaking his head. He knows they want to control the possibility, but it's just not feasible. He gestures up around as much as he can.
"We're jammed under a bed. I don't think you can be too relaxed." He sighs. He reaches out and touches what he hopes is their shoulder. Hard to tell with the blanket. "We avoid this stuff by working towards getting out of hell, watching each other's backs, and forgiving ourselves for what we couldn't fight. It was Valentine's day and the succubi still hate our guts. If there's a next time, we know better to just dance our way out the doors."
He wonders then if Nekane was drugged for all that time with him. That aches, for some reason. He doesn't ask.
"Either way, you don't need to do the punishing for them. What we can do is get you all the sweets you want, you can eat, and you can let me fix your wings again."
"Says you." But at this point they're just being stubborn about being under the bed. It was comfortable under here for them but by no means are they relaxed. Although they do feel a little better when he reaches out to touch their shoulder.
He has a point about...well, everything. In Hell there's a lot of things out of their control and after the utter shitshow that was the bombing attempt, it ain't a surprise the demons hated all of them. It's stupid. So, so stupid.
But out of everyone here, why did it have to be Dodger? God.
"Sure. Might take me a minute to get out." They packed themself in pretty good.
He's not surprised they're being stubborn. It's who they are. He knows it's stubbornness more for the sake of itself than anything. He makes a faintly amused noise for it.
He squeezes that shoulder a little and the starts to crawl out. All the while he says, "I'm gonna try and lift bed up. It'll give you a little more leeway to get out."
With that done, he stands and heaves the frame. It's pretty heavy. He's not going to be able to do this for long. He's already expecting to hear the crack of their wings just from the lifted weight. Moving after that isn't going to help things.
But it's fine, he tells himself. He can fix it after.
He won't be left holding up the bed on his own for long. When he gets it up as high as he can, a shadow claw braces itself against the bottom to give him some support and make things just a little bit easier on him while they scramble out. And they take the blanket out too while they're at it.
Their wings are predictably bent at an odd angle from being stuffed under a bed for more then an hour. Sometimes even Nekane themself wondered just how they hadn't lost their wings yet. Luckily they don't pop so they're not totally out of alignment.
"Let go and I'll lower it back down." Just dropping it isn't going to end well. Then they can work on their stupid wings.
There's a breath of relief as he sees that shadow claw. Almost forgot about that.
"Thanks," He says. It'll definitely help him keep this up longer, just enough for them to get out. He winces a little at the wings but it's not as bad as it could be. And they're out.
With their permission, he lets go and steps back by their side. The bed goes on down with that shadow.
It's not an elegant drop but at least it doesn't punch a hole in the floor. Too bad, it'd make getting into Héctor's room easier.
"Food. Wings can wait." Because they have priorities, damn it. They've left their wings like this for longer then it takes to heat up a Pop Tart, it can wait a little longer.
And so they're going to move to the kitchen unless Héctor stops them. Nekane is moving a little stiffly because of their time under the bed. It's fine.
"Got any idea where the people here keep the food?" Because they're going to steal it.
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Between the blankets and the darkness under the bed, the only thing really visible of Nekane is their hair. Although they do shuffle the blankets around a little so one eye is visible, much like the last time when they stole the blankets from Héctor.
"An hour and no." It's an honest answer. "Just trying to deal with my own fucking idiocy. Also it's comfortable here."
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"You know, I'd believe that, but there's no way both you and your wings fit under their perfectly. So you've definitely wrecked something."
He gives a pointed look, daring them to deny it. He doesn't question that Nekane chose to hide under his bed instead of theirs.
"Should I crawl under there with you or can I lift the bed and maybe lure you into hiding on top of it instead?"
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"It is comfortable. I ain't lying about that." More spacious then a closet.
And at his offer they actually shuffle back. "And I ain't gonna stop you from coming under here. Or you could give me fucking pop-tarts or something and I'll come out."
Nekane is pulling something out of memory that they bet Héctor hasn't heard about. They hope.
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"You know I can just go a room over and ask one of the boys. They're both from the future. I bet they might even have some tart thingies. They might even have better."
And yet, despite saying that, he's doing the military crawl to try and shimmy under the bed. Because they're both stupid.
"I'm real curious to know where you got this wierd burrowing instinct from," He says, having jammed himself in enough to be a curled up reflection of them. Mostly because he likes looking at them. It's comforting.
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"Maybe. Didn't tell you the flavor I like." Not that it would make enough of a difference. He could just keep picking until he got it right. Mostly they're sticking with it out of pure stubbornness.
They're surprised though when Héctor actually joins them under the bed. Even with their wings there's enough room for the two of them.
"Always had it." Which is true. Even long ago they found a strange sort of comfort in small places. The hording tendencies....that's something else. "Small spaces are fine. And it ain't like people check under the bed as often as you might think."
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They've always hid then. Or, they've always hid to seek comfort. It almost makes sense. Almost.
"But I look under the bed," He says. "I hide my guitar under here when I'm out. I figure you knew that." Which means that, although they hid, they wanted to be found. Specifically, they wanted to be found by him.
"So," He starts, voice softening now, "Besides something stupid, which you said already, why are we hiding?"
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But he figures it out pretty quickly and their resolve to actually tell him about this crap sinks a little. It isn't because of the judgement. Or at least any judgement coming from Héctor. And logically Nekane can't even judge themself because of what was involved or hell, they can't judge Dodger either.
But they've judged themself harshly all of their life and sure aren't about to stop now. So they suck in a breath.
"My own fucking stupidity. And love potions." A pause. "And...Dodger..."
And with that out in the air, Nekane's going to do a damn good job of trying to smother themself with the blankets.
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He waits patiently all the same, letting them take their time to get it out. He should've realized it was something big, considering they're huddled under a bed, but he wasn't expecting what he gets. The surprise is obvious on his face.
There's a brief twist of fear, thinking they may have been hurt again, but Nekane said love potion. That's enough to let it sink in.
"...oh..." Is all he says at first. He... can't blame them for the smothering. He knows they hate Dodger and he can't blame them for that either even if his own feelings are... a mess. A bigger mess. But eventually, he reaches out to stop them.
"Okay. I may have had the same thing happen. So. I get that." Just to get that out there and out of the way. "But, more importantly, are you okay? Did he hurt you?"
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He pulls the blankets away from their face and they only half attempt to stop it. Largely they don't put up much of a fight because they're also paying attention to what he's saying.
"You alright?" Since he said he had the same thing happen to.
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Or rather, he can once he gets his own explanation out of the way.
"I'm fine. It's already a sin on my list." And a vice on his heart for that. "He's careful with me. I think it, maybe, might have been good in a way." It might help. But he'll have to talk to Dodger about that soon.
"But things with he and I are different. And things with you and me are different than with you and him. How are you feeling?"
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"Just because it's on your list doesn't make it not shitty." They know Héctor has the feeling of self-worth in the same way a goddamn peanut has self-awareness, but come on. "And even if he is careful it's still Dodger."
There's only so much they'll give him. But at Héctor's next question they sigh. "Shitty. I...don't like choice being taken from me. I really fucking don't." For both them and Dodger. He probably wanted nothing to do with them after the shitshow that was his birthday party but nope, love potion.
It's so stupid.
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"I know," He says softly. He reaches out with a sorry look. He brushes a piece of their hair back from their face. "It would be terrible for most people, I think. But you've lost a lot of choices already." Too many. More than anyone he knows.
His brows furrow.
"Hell has no right to your body. Or your mind." He shakes his head. "But Hell takes. So it's not your fault. Or because of any stupidity."
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They go a little cross-eyed focusing on where Héctor's hand goes but leans into the touch eventually.
"Don't leave yourself out of that." Because he's the same as them and Nekane has not forgotten the fact he does have those stupid candies. "Your body and mind are yours alone, and I will fucking punch you if you say otherwise."
Even if they can't right now.
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He falters a little when they call him out. It's harder to take advice than it is to give it. He knows that too.
"I won't forget," He promises. "I, ah, may have shared those words." They'd helped him. They still help him. But it's a terrible irony. And it's a lot of information about Dodger just in implication. He doesn't like to give either of them ammunition to wound the other. They do that enough as is.
"Are you going to be okay?" He asks them. He pauses, then adds, "I'll find you all the pop tarts I can, no matter the answer."
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Probably a bad thing.
They snicker at the pop tart comment. "No, I'll be find. Just ain't exactly a great memory." Well, strictly speaking, it was but they were also making out with someone who they can't fucking stand so that ruins it.
Dodger cleans up well and it pisses them off.
"I'll come out when I stop feeling the urge to smack myself." More then they already have.
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"Maybe you can pretend it was someone else," He suggests. "Señor...Guapo. Or Señorita. Detective extroardinaire. Incredibly suave too. I hear they're promising an archive to the first to capture their eye. And a back massage."
That probably won't work. But maybe it will make them smile. He hasn't moved his hand from them.
"You wouldn't like me hurting myself," He reminds them. "Try to be kinder. I'll say it again that it's not your fault."
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"Sure but that makes me think of John. And if you're suggesting I think of him while fucking I'm going to smother us both with this goddamn blanket."
It's do-able, considering John's ability to change his form into whatever he wanted with his glamours. But Nekane knew the man's personality (and it sure isn't attractive) and knew he'd probably use their head as a golf ball if they tried it anyway. So no.
But he makes a good point. "I know. I just should fucking know better to not put my damn drink down or whatever." Even outside of Hell they knew better. So it's just dumb.
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"Somehow I really don't think John has any interest in sweeping you off your feet for a night of passion."
Definitely not. If John had intended to make that kind of move, he would have. And Nekane would have clawed his face up.
He sobers again and shakes his head. It's better than beating themself up but...
"You know I trust these things less than you." Which is saying something. "It still got me. I don't think this was avoidable."
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Besides, as much as they felt like they owed John for what he did, Nekane sure didn't want to owe him that way.
Héctor has a point but it doesn't make them feel any less stupid. Particularly considering the details but they are not going there for both of their sanity.
"Think I'm just getting too relaxed then. This crap has to be avoidable in some manner."
It probably isn't. But that's their hope it doesn't happen again.
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But, he's soon shaking his head. He knows they want to control the possibility, but it's just not feasible. He gestures up around as much as he can.
"We're jammed under a bed. I don't think you can be too relaxed." He sighs. He reaches out and touches what he hopes is their shoulder. Hard to tell with the blanket. "We avoid this stuff by working towards getting out of hell, watching each other's backs, and forgiving ourselves for what we couldn't fight. It was Valentine's day and the succubi still hate our guts. If there's a next time, we know better to just dance our way out the doors."
He wonders then if Nekane was drugged for all that time with him. That aches, for some reason. He doesn't ask.
"Either way, you don't need to do the punishing for them. What we can do is get you all the sweets you want, you can eat, and you can let me fix your wings again."
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He has a point about...well, everything. In Hell there's a lot of things out of their control and after the utter shitshow that was the bombing attempt, it ain't a surprise the demons hated all of them. It's stupid. So, so stupid.
But out of everyone here, why did it have to be Dodger? God.
"Sure. Might take me a minute to get out." They packed themself in pretty good.
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He squeezes that shoulder a little and the starts to crawl out. All the while he says, "I'm gonna try and lift bed up. It'll give you a little more leeway to get out."
With that done, he stands and heaves the frame. It's pretty heavy. He's not going to be able to do this for long. He's already expecting to hear the crack of their wings just from the lifted weight. Moving after that isn't going to help things.
But it's fine, he tells himself. He can fix it after.
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Their wings are predictably bent at an odd angle from being stuffed under a bed for more then an hour. Sometimes even Nekane themself wondered just how they hadn't lost their wings yet. Luckily they don't pop so they're not totally out of alignment.
"Let go and I'll lower it back down." Just dropping it isn't going to end well. Then they can work on their stupid wings.
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"Thanks," He says. It'll definitely help him keep this up longer, just enough for them to get out. He winces a little at the wings but it's not as bad as it could be. And they're out.
With their permission, he lets go and steps back by their side. The bed goes on down with that shadow.
"So, food first or fixing?"
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"Food. Wings can wait." Because they have priorities, damn it. They've left their wings like this for longer then it takes to heat up a Pop Tart, it can wait a little longer.
And so they're going to move to the kitchen unless Héctor stops them. Nekane is moving a little stiffly because of their time under the bed. It's fine.
"Got any idea where the people here keep the food?" Because they're going to steal it.
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