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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no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
"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."
no subject
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.
no subject
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.
no subject
"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.
no subject
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.