It's a fair comeback. It gets a twitch around his mouth, a small reaction but still some sort of reaction. They're not fine. He knows that. For once he doesn't point the lie out.
There's another bout of silence. The ceiling isn't that interesting. If he could see through it, it still wouldn't be. Just up and up until the "sky" was lost in smog and darkness. He wonders where it ends, where the ceiling of this pit is.
"I don't..." He meant to say he doesn't know, but he supposes that's true too.
He looks down at last, finally meeting their eyes, really seeing them. He wants to crawl away and he wants to go to them and each feeling feeds into its opposite. He can't hold their gaze.
"I messed up. I did it to myself. I don't... I don't think I'm going to be able to fix it." He doesn't know how he's going to heal. He doesn't know if he can. He draws his knees in closer. "I chose to hurt. I have nothing to blame now."
He can't hold their gaze but Nekane watches Héctor talk anyway.
He messed up something, something that hurt him deeper or differently then what brands and cuts do. Like Nekane always says, there wasn't much use in physical torture. Mentally, on the other hand...
Well. Here they are.
"There isn't an easy way to fix that shit." They got over their fear of cigarettes solely out of spite but that didn't mean they wouldn't jump a little if someone lit one up behind them. Héctor's been making great strides when it came to food and drink but there'd always be a little voice in the back of his head saying 'what if?'
Carved in their minds and skin.
"Can you tell me what happened?" It might be the same question rephrased but they really do want to know what went down. And they both can go from there.
He could tell them off. He could shoo them away. But he does owe some kind of explanation, doesn't he? He can give them something.
"Two people I trusted. That I shouldn't have trusted. I don't think this place is right. But there are some people who belong here. I decided that didn't have to matter. Even those kind of people are still people. I..."
Even with that slight bit of faltering, his voice seems dead. Slow and quiet and dead, an irony here.
"I wanted to be an exception. I wanted to be something special. In all the terrible things, I thought that, for some reason, that wouldn't touch me. And they... tried. They did everything in the only way they knew how. It wasn't enough."
Because he doesn't matter. Because he's never mattered. And yet somehow his ego got so out of control...
He says, "I was gambled for the sake of revenge and a forgiveness that wasn't going to happen. I was used as bait and then made to watch the one kill the other. Even like that, they mattered more to each other than me. That pain they both wanted to cause, even if not on me, still mattered more than me. They both wanted the other's friendship with me to burn, and that was fine with them. Ignoring what I wanted, how I felt, just forcing me through what they want... was fine. And this just keeps happening. Again, and again, and again. This isn't anyone's fault anymore, it's all on me." His eyes slowly close. "For still choosing it."
Not anymore. He chose right. Just like once before, he made the right move but was still too late.
"I told them both it was done. They understood. I'm wondering... who's left? Who else is going to do this to me? How long can I make it alone? What would it take to be anyone else... but me."
When he says he was used as a gambling chip, Nekane has to smother the rising anger and the instinct to ask who it was. Taking that sort of thing out of Héctor's hands had not ended well the last time. It's not about what they can do.
But really, it's not much of a gamble if the outcome was already set in stone. John would be pissed.
And Héctor already knows how Nekane feels about being someone else. The impossibility of it, being something that doesn't offend. Nekane was Nekane and Héctor was Héctor. There's no escaping it. It's a fate set in stone no matter how much Hell tries to take it away from them.
They don't say anything when he finishes and stares up at the ceiling. Much like Héctor, they wonder just how far it goes until the top is reached, and if there really is a heaven somewhere up there. Where things go when they...pass on from here. Maybe it's better. Maybe it's not. Who can say?
But it's not something they dwell on forever. Nekane's never been one for it. So instead they roll their shoulders and make up their mind.
"Fuck this."
Standing up they climb onto the bed so they can sit beside Héctor. And Nekane pulls off their gloves and reaches out so he can take their hands if he wants.
"Keep talking. Even if your thoughts and feelings are as ugly as this shithole, I wanna hear it. About this place, about your life and yourself. All of it."
Until he's empty and they both can figure out what else to fill it back up with.
He knows how they feel about changing. He had to say is anyway. There's something wrong something that needs to be fixed and more and more it seems like that something is him.
The curse startles him into the present. He looks over, wide-eyed, and for a terrible, hideous moment, he thinks they're going to walk out and leave him-- maybe curse him more on the way out. For all that his head insists it's for the better, his heart starts to tear.
It's a moment of whiplash when they climb up next to him, move in close, and offer their hand-- always something they struggle with. His breath catches. He shudders. God, he's so stupid. Knowing he shouldn't, he takes their hands. He hangs on tight as his head bows.
"I don't understand," He starts, not knowing where he's going, only that they asked for everything. "What's wrong with me? What is it about me where I'm just... not good enough? Why do I keep failing this? Why do I keep ending up left behind somehow...? Dios, Nekane, I don't even have a family besides the Riveras, I'm just an invader, I might not even be an orphan so much as a throw away and that's so stupid to think about now when it doesn't even matter anymore, but what if it's me? What if I'm driving everyone away or... or being so worthless that I don't matter to whoever I do find..."
At first it seemed a coincidence. Now, it's almost certainly a pattern.
"Am I supposed to be alone? Is that right thing? God, I don't know if I can do this but I don't know if I can do anything else either."
They see the look on his face and yeah, they could have put that more delicately. But he knows them. Nekane and delicate don't mix.
But he talks and that's the most important thing. He spills out his confusion, why wasn't he good enough? His friends betrayed him, his family might have left him. That it might really be Héctor and Héctor alone that's at fault.
Nekane has to resist the urge to interrupt at multiple points. It's an argument that they've had before, after they found out Dodger murdered Héctor. They don't see him as worthless despite him believing so. But they tell themself that Héctor finds them beautiful while they can't see it. It's the same thing.
"Keep going. Tell me about Ernesto and your family. Doesn't matter if you get mad or cry or whatever. That's what this is for."
Let it all out. Even it's unsightly or something that Nekane knows she would hate to see. They're a sponge for it and once it's out in the air and absorbed, they'll go from there.
Keep going. Keep going. The story of his life and death. Keep going.
"It was for me, you know? He used to say it all the time to me. One day the whole world would be our family. That's what he always said whenever I needed it, when he was there. It's one of the oldest songs I have. So stupid, so desperate. I wanted so bad to be someone to somebody."
The world es mi familia. What a joke.
"I had nothing without him. I was no one. If I wasn't playing my songs, no one even saw me. But everyone loved him. And I thought he loved me. I shared my music and he showed me to everyone. It felt so good." He's said it before. Ernesto could have asked anything. He would have done anything. "And then Imelda came and she actually saw me. It felt like she did."
He doesn't know anymore. He doesn't know. What's she thinking now? What's she doing? He can't know.
"Her parents didn't approve of me, you know? I said it was fine, I said we could do this together and she did, she threw it all away. She was looked after until I came along. She was so, so far above me and she chose me anyway I- I let her down, Nekane. She didn't want me to go but I told her it would just be a little while. I told her--"
He told her exactly what Ernesto told him. A little while became longer and longer and longer...
"I was just an annoyance in my hometown. Just trouble. Every person who ever taught me anything or stuck around, they moved on and they forgot me. We went out there and I wasn't even that. They'd cheer for the music but I was nothing. I'm nothing. I'm nothing. Even God's thrown me away. I don't belong in heaven or at home, people say I don't even belong here." They mean well. They mean it in kindness. But it just shows how lost he is.
"What if I tricked her, Nekane? What if I've fooled them, my family. What if they figure out I'm no good? Dios, they must have by now. She was... she didn't have time for nonsense and I put her through so much. I've betrayed her again and again while I was here. And Coco... Coco, my girl, what does she have now? Am I going to be anything to her? Or just some old pain?"
His voice cracks. His head shakes. Tears spill over and his head hangs.
"...Even you. Even you. I wanted you because you didn't want me. I thought that would be good, easy, I could count on you without worrying what it would mean... Dios, I've used you. Oh God, I really am scum. I just use people because I want to be someone, hanging off on them until they can't stand me, of course, I'm throwaway. I hate it. I hate it so much. I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to be me. I don't want me. I wish I could leave too, like everyone else."
Even though they're the one who suggested this, it hurts to hear. It's something John's warned them against. "Just because you have photographic memory it doesn't mean it won't come back to bite you in the ass to hear all the world's hurts. You'll remember everything, even the things I'll forget."
But Nekane doesn't regret it either and they don't regret asking this. They hear his hurt, the people he's met and carved himself into and they have done so in turn. Wanting to be apart of the world's family. That Nekane knows. Just how many people have they met who didn't have families or homes or people to love? Someone, anyone, see me. Acknowledge I exist and I'm loved. Even if it's just some monster in the end.
They listen in silence and let it go on a little longer. Nekane wants to find the right words to say but realizes there aren't any. They can just talk.
"You know...I loved her. I still do." Nekane knows they don't have to explain to Héctor who 'she' is. They continue.
"Her name was Delilah. I can't remember if I ever told you. She had an incredibly shit life and I felt good helping her. But the love we had for each other was toxic. I'd never be able to help her move on and she wouldn't be capable of loving me normally. We may as well be feeding each other poison."
They detested Adriel and that made it easy to see the angel's flaws. They were no better then supports for a bridge doomed to break regardless of how much steel they piled on. If Nekane hadn't discovered the truth, it'd be likely one or both of them would have self-destructed under the pressure of each other's love, if the family's 'God' hadn't gotten there first.
"Love is a terrible thing, but it's not a complete shitshow like mine. Don't think Imelda would like me talking for her, but I don't think she made her choices with a heavy heart. And I doubt you tricked her. You're not that good at bullshitting and you said it yourself that she didn't have time for nonsense."
They've got a feeling the second she got a whiff of Héctor trying to pull a fast one on her, he'd be out on his ass. No. It was her choice to go with him.
"But for the rest..."
They have to let go of his hands for a second to reach into their back pocket and pull out a piece of paper. It's their list of sins.
Murder Wrath Breaking and entering Stalking Attempted suicide Murder-suicide Denying "God" Denial of the self Lying
"Like I said before, there's no such thing as a good or bad person. Your sins may not be as bad as mine or anyone else's but they'll be there. Everyone will have some. John, Imelda, Coco and Ernesto...everyone. When you're born, you're born into sin. This whole thing is fucking pointless and God is just a whiny bitch. And you shouldn't have to suffer for it. That's what I think."
They fold up the paper again and lean against Héctor, threading their hands with his again.
"And...I do want you. You, as you are and choose to be. I won't promise things won't change. People grow and we've still got to deal with Hell's bullshit. But I understand wanting to run away from yourself. You see something in me I'll probably never see. And you saw that fire in Imelda that made her more then a pretty face, something she might have not seen either. John didn't have a name because he didn't see himself as a person until we met. It's okay to use others to define yourself...as long as you don't see them just as mirrors. Like Delilah did. Like I did."
He doesn't have to ask, no. It still surprises him when they bring her up. His head lifts.
It's the rare moment they admit to who they were before they were "Nekane". And never, in his recollection, had they admitted that love they had for her hadn't died with that old self. It unhinges his views of the woman. She's a person, with a name (Delilah), and someone Nekane still cares for. It cuts to the bone.
Like a poison, Squalo had said. He almost wonders if Nekane can still hear his thoughts after all. They make a point about Imelda and he nods, even as the doubt and worry continue to eat at him.
He takes in that list. Murder, for Dodger. Murder-suicide for themself and the parts that made them up. Another attempt they hadn't told him about but implied well enough to make him want to hang on to them tighter. Their work, their lies, their anger, their pain. It's pain, especially, that makes up most of that list. He makes a face. He almost (jokingly) argues that Coco is an angel-- but that's rich when speaking to someone who actually was one. It's only a cover for the fear that Coco should ever suffer this place.
Nekane guts him one last time. It feels like he can't breathe. He's wanted. They see him. Whatever it is he is. He reaches out and pulls them forward, wraping one arm around under their wings, the other other hand to the back of their head as he brings them in. It says a lot of what he can't, even now.
"...I'm a father. And a husband. A rivera. A musician. I'm... trying to be a friend. And you're someone important to me." A definition by others, like they suggest. He pushes his breath through his teeth.
He keeps hanging on.
"If you ever decide you need to push away, will you tell me?" It leaves him no certainty but at least he'd be warned.
Pain is what makes up their existence but it makes up everyone else's as well. Living is painful, a long dragged-out fight against the bullshit thrown your way. Even for someone like John who seemed immune to it, when on his deathbed he was tired.
But he didn't give up despite his death being foretold and set in stone, they didn't give up because their family threw them away. And they can hear it when Héctor chooses not to give up. Beaten and dragged through life's bullshit...but still hanging on.
Héctor Rivera. And that is whoever he chooses to be. They wrap their arms around him when he pulls them close, rubbing circles into his back. Physical comfort is still hard for them but it's what Nekane can offer.
"Yeah, if I need to push away or take a break I'll tell you. I fucked up by ducking out so many times without saying shit. That's on me." That's something about themself they need to improve because it's not just Nekane here.
"And if I can't talk for whatever reason, I'll leave a note. But a closed door doesn't mean I hate you. It just means I need some time alone. Same for you, okay? If you need time, let me know too."
He doesn't have to smile for them or anyone else if it hurts to much.
He can't give up. No matter what, no matter how long he's knocked down for, he has to get back up. He's got to keep going.
Just like they do.
His shoulders ease some tension out with their touch. He breathes out when they promise for the future.
"Okay," He says. He can manage that. He can let them know. He can give space. He squeezes them. "Thank you. I think I... Dios. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you had John to be what you needed cause I think I really needed you."
Nekane snorts but a smile tugs at the corners of their mouth.
"Guess someone as insane as him could only help out an idiot like me." That's not the case and they know it. In fact, they sound somewhat fond. John was nuts, sure, but there was a side of him nobody but Nekane saw. The real person behind the layers of the glamours he piled on top of himself.
They made each other worse people as much as they made each other better people. But Nekane would never trade those memories away.
Nekane hugs Héctor tightly before relaxing. This time they don't make fun of the way he says he's glad about them being in Hell. Not the time for it.
"I'm happy to know you too. Neither of us are perfect but who the fuck cares? And..." They don't want to draw the conversation back to what happened to Héctor, but Nekane feels like they have to. "I'm sorry assholes keep taking advantage of you and I don't blame you if you tell 'em both to take a fucking hike. But what do you want to do?"
Nekane assumes everyone involved in this shitshow are still around and all.
"You're getting sneaky with those self-insults," He says, with a note of fondness of his own. "You're putting them into things that makes it harder to argue."
Because they're not an idiot, but he'd dare not ruin the soft way they speak then. He wouldn't take apart a sweet memory.
He just savors the hug they offer him. And their words, even when they turn back around. It's another shot of pain through the heart, a tightness in his throat, but it's easing.
"I did. I told them I was done. I said... I said I'd be there, if they needed. I'd be on their side. But that's it. No more." His head bobs. His mouth presses and then he's bowing that head. "...It's crap. I stood up for myself, but I really, really hate this. I want them back. But if I do, it's just going to happen again."
"Yeah, I get it. You had good times with these assholes but they fucked it up and-" They let go of Héctor for a moment to vaguely wave. "There ain't anything wrong with telling people like that to fuck off but it's still a bitch when you remember there was something good there."
Ernesto is a prime example of that. His actions have irreversibly destroyed the friendship between him and Héctor...but it was a friendship none the less. Friends that loved each other like family. Hell, if Nekane wanted to dive into a place they didn't like going, they could say the same about their Handler.
They don't. But it's there.
"Putting lines in the sand is a good thing in the long run. As nice as you are it's good to have limits. And if you hit those limits than it's okay to tell someone to take a fucking hike."
But if later on Héctor wanted to rekindle those relationships that's fine too. Maybe Hell will freeze over before some assholes look at themselves and realize they're the problem, but there's a chance. Nekane trusts Héctor to know his own limits, even if he's slowly learning them along the way.
His own mind is going over faces; the ones who let go, the ones who could still. Love is a terrible thing. For all his romanticism of the romantic, what they said remains true. He feels the truth of it now.
He nods his head with what they say. And he thinks of he and Dodger's exchange.
"I'm scared to be alone."
"So am I."
He breathes a sigh.
"I think I'm afraid that, drawing lines, I'm going to end up alone. Like the price might be too high for anyone when what they get is...you know. Me. If I stop letting people back in, I'm not going to have anyone at all." And he doesn't know who he'll be then, if anyone at all.
That too Nekane understands. Because of their general attitude they don't have much in the way of close friends and even then there were times that the other party had to make it clear the detective crossed a line.
"I ain't advocating for you to be a dick twenty-four seven like me. It'd be shitty if you called off a friendship because the other person...I don't fucking know, breathed wrong or whatever. But..."
Gently they reach up to take his face in their hands, fixing him with a serious look.
"There is nothing wrong with saying you've had enough with shitty friends that use you like that. If you're not comfortable with something it's okay to speak up or say you don't want to do it. If they come back and apologize, and you still want to be friends? Cool. But you gotta let them know you won't put up with that shit again. Okay?"
And frankly people are stupid if they don't think Héctor is worth being with but that's something Nekane is keeping to themself.
He laughs a little at that. No, he doesn't think he could manage something like that, nor would he want to. He knows that's not what Nekane meant.
But, the worry remains.
The reach out to him, getting him to look up and meet their eyes. Sometimes, they make him feel so small. He blinks back a burn in his eyes and bobs his head.
"Okay," He says.
His arms go up. He reaches out for them, pulling them closer so he can slip his arms around their back and just hang on.
"Thank you."
He's glad, at least, he doesn't have to give them up.
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There's another bout of silence. The ceiling isn't that interesting. If he could see through it, it still wouldn't be. Just up and up until the "sky" was lost in smog and darkness. He wonders where it ends, where the ceiling of this pit is.
"I don't..." He meant to say he doesn't know, but he supposes that's true too.
He looks down at last, finally meeting their eyes, really seeing them. He wants to crawl away and he wants to go to them and each feeling feeds into its opposite. He can't hold their gaze.
"I messed up. I did it to myself. I don't... I don't think I'm going to be able to fix it." He doesn't know how he's going to heal. He doesn't know if he can. He draws his knees in closer. "I chose to hurt. I have nothing to blame now."
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He messed up something, something that hurt him deeper or differently then what brands and cuts do. Like Nekane always says, there wasn't much use in physical torture. Mentally, on the other hand...
Well. Here they are.
"There isn't an easy way to fix that shit." They got over their fear of cigarettes solely out of spite but that didn't mean they wouldn't jump a little if someone lit one up behind them. Héctor's been making great strides when it came to food and drink but there'd always be a little voice in the back of his head saying 'what if?'
Carved in their minds and skin.
"Can you tell me what happened?" It might be the same question rephrased but they really do want to know what went down. And they both can go from there.
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"Two people I trusted. That I shouldn't have trusted. I don't think this place is right. But there are some people who belong here. I decided that didn't have to matter. Even those kind of people are still people. I..."
Even with that slight bit of faltering, his voice seems dead. Slow and quiet and dead, an irony here.
"I wanted to be an exception. I wanted to be something special. In all the terrible things, I thought that, for some reason, that wouldn't touch me. And they... tried. They did everything in the only way they knew how. It wasn't enough."
Because he doesn't matter. Because he's never mattered. And yet somehow his ego got so out of control...
He says, "I was gambled for the sake of revenge and a forgiveness that wasn't going to happen. I was used as bait and then made to watch the one kill the other. Even like that, they mattered more to each other than me. That pain they both wanted to cause, even if not on me, still mattered more than me. They both wanted the other's friendship with me to burn, and that was fine with them. Ignoring what I wanted, how I felt, just forcing me through what they want... was fine. And this just keeps happening. Again, and again, and again. This isn't anyone's fault anymore, it's all on me." His eyes slowly close. "For still choosing it."
Not anymore. He chose right. Just like once before, he made the right move but was still too late.
"I told them both it was done. They understood. I'm wondering... who's left? Who else is going to do this to me? How long can I make it alone? What would it take to be anyone else... but me."
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But really, it's not much of a gamble if the outcome was already set in stone. John would be pissed.
And Héctor already knows how Nekane feels about being someone else. The impossibility of it, being something that doesn't offend. Nekane was Nekane and Héctor was Héctor. There's no escaping it. It's a fate set in stone no matter how much Hell tries to take it away from them.
They don't say anything when he finishes and stares up at the ceiling. Much like Héctor, they wonder just how far it goes until the top is reached, and if there really is a heaven somewhere up there. Where things go when they...pass on from here. Maybe it's better. Maybe it's not. Who can say?
But it's not something they dwell on forever. Nekane's never been one for it. So instead they roll their shoulders and make up their mind.
"Fuck this."
Standing up they climb onto the bed so they can sit beside Héctor. And Nekane pulls off their gloves and reaches out so he can take their hands if he wants.
"Keep talking. Even if your thoughts and feelings are as ugly as this shithole, I wanna hear it. About this place, about your life and yourself. All of it."
Until he's empty and they both can figure out what else to fill it back up with.
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The curse startles him into the present. He looks over, wide-eyed, and for a terrible, hideous moment, he thinks they're going to walk out and leave him-- maybe curse him more on the way out. For all that his head insists it's for the better, his heart starts to tear.
It's a moment of whiplash when they climb up next to him, move in close, and offer their hand-- always something they struggle with. His breath catches. He shudders. God, he's so stupid. Knowing he shouldn't, he takes their hands. He hangs on tight as his head bows.
"I don't understand," He starts, not knowing where he's going, only that they asked for everything. "What's wrong with me? What is it about me where I'm just... not good enough? Why do I keep failing this? Why do I keep ending up left behind somehow...? Dios, Nekane, I don't even have a family besides the Riveras, I'm just an invader, I might not even be an orphan so much as a throw away and that's so stupid to think about now when it doesn't even matter anymore, but what if it's me? What if I'm driving everyone away or... or being so worthless that I don't matter to whoever I do find..."
At first it seemed a coincidence. Now, it's almost certainly a pattern.
"Am I supposed to be alone? Is that right thing? God, I don't know if I can do this but I don't know if I can do anything else either."
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But he talks and that's the most important thing. He spills out his confusion, why wasn't he good enough? His friends betrayed him, his family might have left him. That it might really be Héctor and Héctor alone that's at fault.
Nekane has to resist the urge to interrupt at multiple points. It's an argument that they've had before, after they found out Dodger murdered Héctor. They don't see him as worthless despite him believing so. But they tell themself that Héctor finds them beautiful while they can't see it. It's the same thing.
"Keep going. Tell me about Ernesto and your family. Doesn't matter if you get mad or cry or whatever. That's what this is for."
Let it all out. Even it's unsightly or something that Nekane knows she would hate to see. They're a sponge for it and once it's out in the air and absorbed, they'll go from there.
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"It was for me, you know? He used to say it all the time to me. One day the whole world would be our family. That's what he always said whenever I needed it, when he was there. It's one of the oldest songs I have. So stupid, so desperate. I wanted so bad to be someone to somebody."
The world es mi familia. What a joke.
"I had nothing without him. I was no one. If I wasn't playing my songs, no one even saw me. But everyone loved him. And I thought he loved me. I shared my music and he showed me to everyone. It felt so good." He's said it before. Ernesto could have asked anything. He would have done anything. "And then Imelda came and she actually saw me. It felt like she did."
He doesn't know anymore. He doesn't know. What's she thinking now? What's she doing? He can't know.
"Her parents didn't approve of me, you know? I said it was fine, I said we could do this together and she did, she threw it all away. She was looked after until I came along. She was so, so far above me and she chose me anyway I- I let her down, Nekane. She didn't want me to go but I told her it would just be a little while. I told her--"
He told her exactly what Ernesto told him. A little while became longer and longer and longer...
"I was just an annoyance in my hometown. Just trouble. Every person who ever taught me anything or stuck around, they moved on and they forgot me. We went out there and I wasn't even that. They'd cheer for the music but I was nothing. I'm nothing. I'm nothing. Even God's thrown me away. I don't belong in heaven or at home, people say I don't even belong here." They mean well. They mean it in kindness. But it just shows how lost he is.
"What if I tricked her, Nekane? What if I've fooled them, my family. What if they figure out I'm no good? Dios, they must have by now. She was... she didn't have time for nonsense and I put her through so much. I've betrayed her again and again while I was here. And Coco... Coco, my girl, what does she have now? Am I going to be anything to her? Or just some old pain?"
His voice cracks. His head shakes. Tears spill over and his head hangs.
"...Even you. Even you. I wanted you because you didn't want me. I thought that would be good, easy, I could count on you without worrying what it would mean... Dios, I've used you. Oh God, I really am scum. I just use people because I want to be someone, hanging off on them until they can't stand me, of course, I'm throwaway. I hate it. I hate it so much. I don't want to be like this anymore, I don't want to hurt people, I don't want to be hurt. I don't want to be me. I don't want me. I wish I could leave too, like everyone else."
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But Nekane doesn't regret it either and they don't regret asking this. They hear his hurt, the people he's met and carved himself into and they have done so in turn. Wanting to be apart of the world's family. That Nekane knows. Just how many people have they met who didn't have families or homes or people to love? Someone, anyone, see me. Acknowledge I exist and I'm loved. Even if it's just some monster in the end.
They listen in silence and let it go on a little longer. Nekane wants to find the right words to say but realizes there aren't any. They can just talk.
"You know...I loved her. I still do." Nekane knows they don't have to explain to Héctor who 'she' is. They continue.
"Her name was Delilah. I can't remember if I ever told you. She had an incredibly shit life and I felt good helping her. But the love we had for each other was toxic. I'd never be able to help her move on and she wouldn't be capable of loving me normally. We may as well be feeding each other poison."
They detested Adriel and that made it easy to see the angel's flaws. They were no better then supports for a bridge doomed to break regardless of how much steel they piled on. If Nekane hadn't discovered the truth, it'd be likely one or both of them would have self-destructed under the pressure of each other's love, if the family's 'God' hadn't gotten there first.
"Love is a terrible thing, but it's not a complete shitshow like mine. Don't think Imelda would like me talking for her, but I don't think she made her choices with a heavy heart. And I doubt you tricked her. You're not that good at bullshitting and you said it yourself that she didn't have time for nonsense."
They've got a feeling the second she got a whiff of Héctor trying to pull a fast one on her, he'd be out on his ass. No. It was her choice to go with him.
"But for the rest..."
They have to let go of his hands for a second to reach into their back pocket and pull out a piece of paper. It's their list of sins.
Murder
Wrath
Breaking and entering
Stalking
Attempted suicide
Murder-suicide
Denying "God"
Denial of the self
Lying
"Like I said before, there's no such thing as a good or bad person. Your sins may not be as bad as mine or anyone else's but they'll be there. Everyone will have some. John, Imelda, Coco and Ernesto...everyone. When you're born, you're born into sin. This whole thing is fucking pointless and God is just a whiny bitch. And you shouldn't have to suffer for it. That's what I think."
They fold up the paper again and lean against Héctor, threading their hands with his again.
"And...I do want you. You, as you are and choose to be. I won't promise things won't change. People grow and we've still got to deal with Hell's bullshit. But I understand wanting to run away from yourself. You see something in me I'll probably never see. And you saw that fire in Imelda that made her more then a pretty face, something she might have not seen either. John didn't have a name because he didn't see himself as a person until we met. It's okay to use others to define yourself...as long as you don't see them just as mirrors. Like Delilah did. Like I did."
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It's the rare moment they admit to who they were before they were "Nekane". And never, in his recollection, had they admitted that love they had for her hadn't died with that old self. It unhinges his views of the woman. She's a person, with a name (Delilah), and someone Nekane still cares for. It cuts to the bone.
Like a poison, Squalo had said. He almost wonders if Nekane can still hear his thoughts after all. They make a point about Imelda and he nods, even as the doubt and worry continue to eat at him.
He takes in that list. Murder, for Dodger. Murder-suicide for themself and the parts that made them up. Another attempt they hadn't told him about but implied well enough to make him want to hang on to them tighter. Their work, their lies, their anger, their pain. It's pain, especially, that makes up most of that list. He makes a face. He almost (jokingly) argues that Coco is an angel-- but that's rich when speaking to someone who actually was one. It's only a cover for the fear that Coco should ever suffer this place.
Nekane guts him one last time. It feels like he can't breathe. He's wanted. They see him. Whatever it is he is. He reaches out and pulls them forward, wraping one arm around under their wings, the other other hand to the back of their head as he brings them in. It says a lot of what he can't, even now.
"...I'm a father. And a husband. A rivera. A musician. I'm... trying to be a friend. And you're someone important to me." A definition by others, like they suggest. He pushes his breath through his teeth.
He keeps hanging on.
"If you ever decide you need to push away, will you tell me?" It leaves him no certainty but at least he'd be warned.
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But he didn't give up despite his death being foretold and set in stone, they didn't give up because their family threw them away. And they can hear it when Héctor chooses not to give up. Beaten and dragged through life's bullshit...but still hanging on.
Héctor Rivera. And that is whoever he chooses to be. They wrap their arms around him when he pulls them close, rubbing circles into his back. Physical comfort is still hard for them but it's what Nekane can offer.
"Yeah, if I need to push away or take a break I'll tell you. I fucked up by ducking out so many times without saying shit. That's on me." That's something about themself they need to improve because it's not just Nekane here.
"And if I can't talk for whatever reason, I'll leave a note. But a closed door doesn't mean I hate you. It just means I need some time alone. Same for you, okay? If you need time, let me know too."
He doesn't have to smile for them or anyone else if it hurts to much.
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Just like they do.
His shoulders ease some tension out with their touch. He breathes out when they promise for the future.
"Okay," He says. He can manage that. He can let them know. He can give space. He squeezes them. "Thank you. I think I... Dios. I'm glad you're here. I'm glad you had John to be what you needed cause I think I really needed you."
And everything about them.
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"Guess someone as insane as him could only help out an idiot like me." That's not the case and they know it. In fact, they sound somewhat fond. John was nuts, sure, but there was a side of him nobody but Nekane saw. The real person behind the layers of the glamours he piled on top of himself.
They made each other worse people as much as they made each other better people. But Nekane would never trade those memories away.
Nekane hugs Héctor tightly before relaxing. This time they don't make fun of the way he says he's glad about them being in Hell. Not the time for it.
"I'm happy to know you too. Neither of us are perfect but who the fuck cares? And..." They don't want to draw the conversation back to what happened to Héctor, but Nekane feels like they have to. "I'm sorry assholes keep taking advantage of you and I don't blame you if you tell 'em both to take a fucking hike. But what do you want to do?"
Nekane assumes everyone involved in this shitshow are still around and all.
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"You're getting sneaky with those self-insults," He says, with a note of fondness of his own. "You're putting them into things that makes it harder to argue."
Because they're not an idiot, but he'd dare not ruin the soft way they speak then. He wouldn't take apart a sweet memory.
He just savors the hug they offer him. And their words, even when they turn back around. It's another shot of pain through the heart, a tightness in his throat, but it's easing.
"I did. I told them I was done. I said... I said I'd be there, if they needed. I'd be on their side. But that's it. No more." His head bobs. His mouth presses and then he's bowing that head. "...It's crap. I stood up for myself, but I really, really hate this. I want them back. But if I do, it's just going to happen again."
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Ernesto is a prime example of that. His actions have irreversibly destroyed the friendship between him and Héctor...but it was a friendship none the less. Friends that loved each other like family. Hell, if Nekane wanted to dive into a place they didn't like going, they could say the same about their Handler.
They don't. But it's there.
"Putting lines in the sand is a good thing in the long run. As nice as you are it's good to have limits. And if you hit those limits than it's okay to tell someone to take a fucking hike."
But if later on Héctor wanted to rekindle those relationships that's fine too. Maybe Hell will freeze over before some assholes look at themselves and realize they're the problem, but there's a chance. Nekane trusts Héctor to know his own limits, even if he's slowly learning them along the way.
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He nods his head with what they say. And he thinks of he and Dodger's exchange.
"I'm scared to be alone."
"So am I."
He breathes a sigh.
"I think I'm afraid that, drawing lines, I'm going to end up alone. Like the price might be too high for anyone when what they get is...you know. Me. If I stop letting people back in, I'm not going to have anyone at all." And he doesn't know who he'll be then, if anyone at all.
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"I ain't advocating for you to be a dick twenty-four seven like me. It'd be shitty if you called off a friendship because the other person...I don't fucking know, breathed wrong or whatever. But..."
Gently they reach up to take his face in their hands, fixing him with a serious look.
"There is nothing wrong with saying you've had enough with shitty friends that use you like that. If you're not comfortable with something it's okay to speak up or say you don't want to do it. If they come back and apologize, and you still want to be friends? Cool. But you gotta let them know you won't put up with that shit again. Okay?"
And frankly people are stupid if they don't think Héctor is worth being with but that's something Nekane is keeping to themself.
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But, the worry remains.
The reach out to him, getting him to look up and meet their eyes. Sometimes, they make him feel so small. He blinks back a burn in his eyes and bobs his head.
"Okay," He says.
His arms go up. He reaches out for them, pulling them closer so he can slip his arms around their back and just hang on.
"Thank you."
He's glad, at least, he doesn't have to give them up.