Work Text:
“How would you even know what love is?” Stick scolds. His face wrinkles, decades of loneliness filling the creases in his skin.
“You’re the one who sent me to him.”
“Because I know you can’t love. It’s just who you are. How your heart is wired.”
“That’s not true.”
“Just because you don’t believe me doesn’t mean it’s not true.”
The truth was, she is right where she wants to be. In his arms. She looks up at him, his watery eyes and his trembling lips. She tries to smile but it ends up being a labored breath.
“Try not to talk,” he whispers.
She gets glimpses of his face. Her eyelids are heavy but she forces herself to stay awake.
The pain searing through her stomach does not compare to the pain she felt leaving Matthew for the first time.
She rushed out of Roscoe Sweeney’s home furious. She whipped her head around, hoping Matthew would be there. But why? So that she could yell at him? So that she could scold him for not taking the knife? No, that wasn’t it. She was blazing, stumbling onto the sidewalk. God, she was so angry.
But not at Matthew.
No, not at Matthew.
She was angry at herself.
She would never get to see him again. Not after this.
She inhaled through her nose, the cold dry Jersey air burning through her lungs.
After that, she asked to be removed from New York, removed from the country. Get as far away from him as possible so she wouldn’t have to feel her guilt.
But now, it wasn’t so bad. She feels his skin against hers, his stubble scratching against her cheek. She thinks about the places they were going to run. It wouldn’t be luxurious all the time. Perhaps there would be a hostel in London where they made their first stop. Matthew would complain about the accents and how they clouded up his senses. She would laugh.
“So how about my accent?” she teases.
“Your voice is always clear to me,” he says. Always the romantic.
It would be different from New York. Especially when they would go to the French countryside. The lack of noise, the smell of the air. It was all so foreign to Matthew. She would sit next to him as he listened to the fields. She would hold his hand as he walked through the cobblestone streets and dipped his feet in the Seine.
“It’s cold,” he says.
“Not as cold as the Hudson in winter.”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
Before she could realize, he would take off his shirt and run into the water, making a fool of himself just to hear her laugh.
“Matthew, you’ll get a cold.”
“This is definitely colder than the Hudson in winter!” he yells. She runs to him and he splashes her.
They would spend the rest of that day bundled in blankets by the fire, remembering when they spent their first winter together all those years ago.
It would be difficult. They would argue. They would fight. But at the end the day, they would have each other and that’s all she ever wanted. Ever since she first laid eyes on him. Those first few weeks, she made excuses to stay in New York, excuses to go to the upper west side. She eventually started to drop by campus, even his dorm room.
“You mean you didn’t grow up like this?” he teases. She makes a face at the discolored walls and close quarters.
“Next time, we’re sleeping at my place.”
“I’m okay with that.” He nudges her face with his.
“And you’re not going to be wearing any clothes.”
“Whatever you say.”
When she sees Stick again, he reprimands her.
“Stupid girl,” he sighs.
“If you want him back so bad, why don’t you get him yourself?” Elektra sneers.
“Because it was your job. Your mission.” Stick tilts his head. He hears her heartbeat quickens. He knows. “You’ve really messed up here, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lies.
“You fell in love with him.”
She didn’t disagree. Of course, she fell in love with him.
Surely, Stick was wrong. In her life, she was not sure if she ever loved anyone. She loved violence, she loved aggression. She loved the taste of blood. But has she loved another person? Her adoptive parents were nice. They were generous and compassionate. But did she love them? It was cruel of her not to, but she was that kind of person. The thought of loving someone never really crossed her mind. It was wasn't something she needed and wasn't something she wanted. Not until Matthew came around and then it happened. Slowly but so organically, it happened. She didn't imagine it to be so crippling.
As her eyes closed and her heartbeat faded, she felt him. And she loved him.