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English
Series:
Part 4 of Recovery Mode
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Published:
2020-04-07
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4,538
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1/1
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4
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73
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Wherever You Go, I Will Find You

Summary:

Elliot catches up with an old friend.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Elliot sucks in a deep breath as he steps towards the entrance of the cemetery. The hand curled around the bouquet bursting with lilies of the valley and forget-me-nots is trembling, partially from nervousness and partially from the late autumn chill. The clear plastic wrap crinkles noisily with each movement.

The grass crunches beneath his sneakers as he slowly weaves his way through the throng of headstones and epitaphs. His eyes scan the various names carved into the polished slabs of marble and granite, and a lump forms in his throat when he comes across one with a death date that matches the day when 71 buildings exploded and crumbled to dust. He runs a hand across the top of the stone as he walks past it, swallowing hard.

His destination is towards the back. It’s easy to find because there’s a large tree that marks the spot; it’s so tall that it’s pretty much visible anywhere, even from outside the cemetery. He kneels in front of the headstone and carefully places the bouquet there, patting it once before sitting on the grass and wrapping his arms around his knees.

“Hey.” He smiles. It’s so cold out that his breath is coming out in large white puffs. “Long time no see.” He waits a beat before chuckling and shaking his head. “Fuck, that was lame. I don’t really know what to say. I don’t even know if you’re listening, or if you’re here at all. I mean, I guess in a physical sense you’re still here, but a body without a living brain to operate it is useless.” He rubs the back of his head. “Not that you’re useless, or anything. I just mean...” He sighs. “You get what I’m trying to say, right? You always do. I never had to explain myself to you.”

He unwinds his arms and leans back, pressing his palms against the grass, stretching out his legs, and shifting his weight towards his hands. “I guess I should fill you in on all of the things you missed. It’s pretty fucked up, so get ready.”

Elliot briefly pauses so he can tilt his head upwards. It may be cold, but there isn’t a single cloud blotting the bright blue sky, and the sun is shining so voraciously that it’s hard not to feel good even with the wind chill. “I guess I can start off by saying that I blew up the Washington Township plant.” He throws on a sheepish smile. “I know that wasn’t what you had in mind, but I wanted to finish what you started. I just didn’t think it would end that way - but I got the job done, and that’s all that matters, right?”

He can picture her face as he’s mentioning all of this. He can see her sitting on her headstone, legs together, torso curved forward, elbows resting on her knees, hands clasped together. Her large blue eyes are focused on him and only him, and her pale mouth is slightly parted. Her thin blonde hair is wavering slightly with the wind.

She would probably respond with something like, “Are you fucking kidding me, Elliot? You blew up the power plant?”

“I didn’t plan for it.” He insists. “It kind of just...happened.”

She throws her hands up. “How does an explosion just happen?”

“Whiterose triggered it.” He shrugs. “She threatened to take everything and everyone down. I had to stop her.”

She sighs just as the wind picks up; it rattles the barren branches of the tree lurking overhead. “There wasn’t any other way?”

“No, and trust me, I tried looking for one.” He clears his throat. “Oh, and Darlene and I stole billions of dollars from a bunch of rich assholes and redistributed it to a bunch of strangers all over the globe. I probably should’ve mentioned that first.”

She lets out a sarcastic laugh; somewhere in the distance there’s the fluttering of wings as a sparrow takes off from its perch on another headstone. “Of course you did.” She breathes in deep, holding it for a couple of seconds before slowly exhaling. “You came out of it in one piece, at least.”

“Sorta, yeah.” He throws her a small, sad smile. “I was stuck in the hospital for a few days, and then I had to sit in a courtroom for a few weeks after that. It was crazy.”

“No shit.” She laughs again, though it’s warmer than last time. “You stole money and blew up a power plant. No one’s gonna let you get away with that.” She turns her head to glance at a small pile of leaves getting tossed around by the wind. “Did you get a chance to take a look at it, at least? Before it exploded, I mean.”

He furrows his brow. “At what?”

“It.” She vaguely gestures with her small hands. “The machine.”

“Oh.” He blinks. “No, I didn’t.” There’s a short pause. “Did you?”

She’s still fixated on the pile of dancing leaves. “Yes.”

He furrows his brow. “What did you see?”

A long stretch of silence wedges itself between them. She’s no longer looking at the leaves, but she still isn’t making eye contact. “I don’t think that matters anymore.”

He’s not surprised by her answer. “You’re right, but...” His sentence peters off as he tries to string the right words together. “What did she do to convince you that it was going to work? She must’ve shown you something, or at least said something that made you believe in her.”

“None of that matters either.” Her tone is hard, clipped. “Whatever she said or showed me doesn’t make a difference. What matters is that it was all a con, and I fell for it - but you didn’t, and that’s how you were able to stop her. You did what I couldn’t do.”

“Of course it matters.” Elliot frowns. “If I knew, maybe...maybe I would’ve found a way to snap you out of it.”

“That’s impossible.” She retorts. “You and I both know there’s only one way to make things better and it would’ve never happened.”

His eyes flit towards the headstone sitting directly next to hers, quickly scanning the name inscribed in large capital letters: EMILY MOSS. He can feel the tears building up in the back of his throat and the ache rising in his chest; he briefly closes his eyes in an attempt to hold himself together.

“She made it seem like it was possible.” She speaks up again, though her tone is softer and more solemn than it was before. “She really made it look like we could just...” She shakes her head. “Look, Elliot - there was nothing you could’ve done. I don’t think you would’ve been able to...snap me out of it, like you said. What’s done is done.”

“Even if there wasn’t anything I could’ve done, I wanted to try anyway.” He unknowingly raises his voice a little. “I would’ve done anything, no matter how far fetched or impossible it was. If it worked, even if it just had the slight possibility of working, I would’ve done it. You know I would’ve.”

“I know.” She sighs, and the wind sighs with her. “I know you would’ve, and that’s why I’m glad you didn’t. You wouldn’t have been any better than me if you tried. You’d be in denial too. You’d refuse reality and choose to live in a lie instead. I don’t want that for you. Nobody does.” She finally turns her head to look at him; her expression is half-regretful, half-relieved. “That’s why they brought you back. That’s why you woke up in the hospital that day.”

He exhales shakily, leaning forward and drawing his knees up to his chest. “They made it feel so real. AllSafe, my parents, your mom...I believed all of it.” He fiddles with his hands as a small, sheepish smile curves the corners of his mouth. “The wedding, too.”

She lets out a short puff of laughter. He can’t figure out if it’s sarcastic or not. “Do you think we ever would’ve done it?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.” He looks away for a moment. “But I don’t think I’m opposed to the idea, either.”

She laughs again. “I can’t picture you proposing.”

Elliot can’t help but laugh too. “Maybe you’re the one who proposes.”

“Wow. Progressive.” She nods at him, clearly impressed - either that or she’s mocking him, which he actually kind of prefers. It sounds more like her. “Probably wouldn’t have the ceremony on Coney Island, though.”

He chuckles. “Where would we have it, then? The zoo?”

She smiles. “In the reptile room.”

“At night, when everything is dark.” He adds with a smile of his own.

“And we’d have to break in, like how we used to.” She purses her lips and furrows her brow. “Ah, what the hell - Darlene can come too. She’ll be our sole witness.”

“She could officiate it.” Elliot suggests.

She laughs again, but this time it’s the laugh he remembers and loves - rich, full, with her head thrown back and her eyes closed. Her hair ripples around her face as the wind whistles through it. It’s almost enough to make his heart burst out of his chest. “She’d get a kick out of that. She’d probably go all out and dress for the occasion - clerical collar and everything.”

Elliot can picture his sister in the full getup, bible in hand and everything, and he shakes his head in amusement. “That’s Darlene for you. She goes hard or she goes home.”

Her shoulders depress as she lets out another sigh. The wind whisks through the nearby shrubs, disrupting the same pile of leaves she was focused on earlier. “She seems to be doing a lot better now.”

“Yeah.” He replies. “She was fucked up for a really long time after you...” He gestures to the gravestone, and she nods in understanding. “But she got through it like she always does. I wouldn’t have been able to go through all of the shit I went through if she wasn’t there. I owe her a lot.”

“She always believed in you.”

“I know.” He sighs. “I should’ve been better to her when everything was going down. I treated her like shit. All she wanted was for us to be close again and I kept pushing her away.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” She raises a hand to brush a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “The both of you were going through a lot. At least you’re together now, right?”

“I guess.” He drops his head a little. “Did she ever tell you about all the things she went through growing up? About how our parents didn’t give a shit about her, and how happy she was when that lady kidnapped her?” He heaves a sigh. “I didn't know she wanted it to happen. I didn't know that things were that bad with her. I should've known. I should've paid more attention.” 

“No.” She shakes her head. “But you already knew that. You know her, Elliot. She’d never show that part of herself to anyone. Not even us.” She pauses briefly to glance up at the sky, then glances back at him. “Maybe you weren't aware of it back then, but I think it still matters that you are now. It's better than not knowing at all."

“Yeah, you're right.” He plucks a few blades of grass with one hand. “She's different now, though - we both are. We promised to be more honest with each other and it’s been holding up so far. It’s...nice. We've been talking more, and we hang out a lot. It kind of feels like before, when we were kids - but with more weed.” They both laugh, and Elliot pulls out more grass. “She actually hacked into my computer a few times to check up on me. She found out about all the shit I was doing with Tyrell’s kid and Olivia…” He trails off for a moment. “And that one time I tried looking into your Facebook.”

“Sounds about right,” She smiles. “But neither of you do any of that anymore.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “That’s why we made that promise to be more honest. She got me to stop checking up on Olivia, since there really wasn’t a point to any of that anymore.” His shoulders sag as he sighs again. “What I did to her was...really fucked up. I thought the whole thing with Bill was bad, but her...” He closes his eyes. “I wish I could make it up to her somehow. She didn't deserve that.”

“You won't always get closure with people.” Her tone is firm. “You hurt her, Elliot. You also put her in an extremely dangerous position with her personal and professional lives. Even if you did have the chance to apologize or make it up to her, do you think she'd give you the time of day?” When he shakes his head, she continues. “If she wants you to live with the consequences, then you kind of have no other choice. It sucks, but that's just the way things are.”

He opens his eyes, keeping his stare trained on the grass by his feet. “I know. It is what it is.” He really doesn't feel like talking about Olivia anymore, so he changes the subject. “Also, I was an idiot and didn’t realize that Joanna’s parents took in Tyrell’s kid after she died. I don’t know how I overlooked that.”

“You always read too much into things.” There’s a sly slant to her smile. “You get stuck on the fine details and don’t always see the big picture.”

“Krista and Darlene told me the same thing.” He rubs his neck. “I think my sister’s a lot better at this recovery thing than me.” A small smile makes his way onto his face. “I think it’s because of Dom. She’s been a big help with helping Darlene get her shit together.”

She scoffs. “Didn’t think she was her type.”

“I said the same thing, and she flipped out.” He chuckles. “But opposites attract, I guess.”

“They’re not opposites and you know it.” She points out. “They’re the exact same person, just with different morals. They’re more like two sides of the same coin.”

“Very different morals,” He agrees. “But it’s good for her. It’s good for the both of them. They keep each other in check.”

“I think it’s more like Dom keeps Darlene in check, but sure.” She smirks, and he laughs. “She needs someone like Dom. I think she’s the only person who can actually get through to her. She might actually do the impossible and get Darlene to grow up a little.”

“She already has. She’s been sticking to therapy and learning to manage her panic attacks. She even cut down on smoking.”

“Incredible.” She’s incredulous, and Elliot laughs at her expression.

“She did most of it on her own, but Dom pushes her to keep going. She's always encouraging Darlene, always reminding her that she's smart, and talented, and that she's a good person despite all of the shit that she pulled before. She's good to her - really good to her.” He tosses the severed blades of grass to the side. “Darlene's never going to admit it to me, but I can tell she loves her a lot. She knows that what they have is different from all the other people she’s been with, and it shows.”

She suppresses a laugh. “That’s because all of the other people were terrible.”

“Cisco wasn’t that bad.” He shrugs. “I think he loved her too, in his own way. He proposed to her.”

“He also sent photos of her to the Dark Army.” She deadpans. “Photos, Elliot - photos of her sleeping. And are we just going to forget about all the other times he pushed her down and made her feel like she was worthless and incapable of running fsociety?”

“The Dark Army stuff is fucked up, but he was trying to keep her from spinning out of control. fsociety was already getting out of hand and he didn’t want her getting in any more trouble than she already was.” He continues to pull at the grass. “He could’ve done it better, that’s for sure, but I think I get where he was coming from. He wanted to protect her. He just couldn’t handle her, that’s all.”

“But Dom can?”

“Cisco was very reactive. Whenever something went wrong, he would automatically jump to the worst case scenario.” Elliot explains. “Dom is more analytical. She assesses the situation and takes the extra time to think things through before she acts upon it. That’s why she's able to reign Darlene in when she acts out.”

“True.” She crosses her arms. “She’s patient, that’s for sure.”

“Her patience is what makes her stand out. She actually sits down and listens to Darlene when she has something to say. Cisco never did that. None of her other partners ever did. Dom doesn’t lose her cool very often, but in the rare instance it does happen she never takes it out on Darlene. She doesn’t beat her down or make her feel worthless.” Elliot shrugs. “I mean, there was that one time upstate when all that shit with the Dark Army went down, but that doesn’t really count anymore. I don’t think I’ve ever heard her seriously badmouth my sister after that. She sees the good in her and she tries to bring that part out as much as she possibly can. She’s the kind of person who shows up and stays - the kind of person you want to save the world for.”

“I think I just fell in love with her a little.” She jests, and Elliot chuckles.

“They fight all the time, and it’s always about something really stupid and insignificant. It drives me insane,” He gathers another fistful of grass in one hand. “But they’re crazy for each other. They make each other better, and they make each other happy.”

She folds her hands on top of her lap. “Are you happy, Elliot?”

He slowly exhales as he tosses around some more grass. “Why are the easiest questions to ask always the hardest ones to answer?”

“So…you’re not happy?” She furrows her brow.

“No, I am.” He frowns. “Well, happier than I was before, that’s for sure. I’m...better. I’m doing better. I think.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” She smirks. “Is the office drone life getting to you?”

He chuckles. “It's not that bad. I kind of wanted to be an agent as a kid, so it's sort of like fulfilling a childhood dream.”

She suppresses a laugh. “Except that you aren't officially an agent. It's an unpaid working sentence.”

“Better than jail, I guess.” He shrugs. “The routine is good for me, though. It helps...keep me in control, if that makes any sense.”

“It does,” She nods. “But what about outside of work? Are you okay?”

“I’m still going through a few things.” He looks away. “I feel like I’ll be going through them forever.” He doesn’t want to elaborate, and thankfully she doesn’t ask him to.

The smile on her face is soft, serene. “What happened to you is beyond your control, but you can control how it affects you from here on out. Don’t let it define you, Elliot. You’re so much more than what he did to you.”

He feels the tears rushing back, and he scrunches up his face to prevent them from falling. “But what if I can’t? What if I have to carry this for the rest of my life?”

“You can.” She lifts herself off the headstone so she can kneel in front of him. He glances up, and when he pores over her face, drinking in the familiarity of her eyes and the way she’s smiling at him, the tears finally start flowing. “And you don’t have to carry it if you don’t want to.”

“How?” His voice is a shimmering, strangled whisper.

“You’ve managed to get this far, right?” The sun is shining directly on her hair, reflecting gold in Elliot’s teary eyes. “So keep going. Keep moving forward. Continue to see Krista. Work with the FBI. Break up Dom and Darlene’s stupid fights. Do whatever you need to do to remind yourself that you’re not where you used to be. You’re not alone in this - you have your sister, and you have Dom. You have Krista too. You even have Flipper.”

“If I had the option to stay in that loop, I would’ve only done it for you.” He breathes in with a shaky breath, his ribcage rattling with held in sobs. “I don’t give a shit about my parents, or F Corp, or AllSafe. You were the best part of it. Even if we weren’t getting married, even if we weren’t together at all, I would’ve still been happy because you were there. You were alive. I would’ve lived a million boring, predictable repetitions of that loop with you and I would’ve never been sad, or lonely, or scared.”

“And that’s why you had to wake up.” She explains, her tone remorseful. “Do you see what I’m trying to say, Elliot? You would’ve been trapped in a lie. You would’ve never moved on. The real world is harder, and it’s crueller, but at least you get to live your life your own way, on your own terms. You’ll have good days, and you’ll have bad days, but at least you know they’re real, and that they’re taking you somewhere. If you chose to live in that made up world, everything will be exactly the same, every single day. You wouldn’t be moving forwards or backwards; you’d be stuck in the same place forever. That’s no way to live.”

He sniffles and drops his head. “I wish you were here. I wish I could’ve saved you. I know I could’ve, if I had the chance.”

“I know, but you can’t think like that anymore.” She frowns. “Like I said, what’s done is done. As much as we want to, we can’t change the past, and we can’t allow ourselves to be trapped in it. Whiterose made that mistake, and look what happened to her. I made that mistake too.” She sighs; the wind picks up again, swirling all around them. “You have to let go.”

“Let go of what?”

“Of everything that’s keeping you from moving forward.” She explains. “Let go of him, your mom, Shayla, fsociety, E Corp, Tyrell, the Dark Army, Olivia, Whiterose.” She gives him a small, sad smile. “You have to let go of me too.”

He vehemently shakes his head. “I can’t do that. I won’t do that.”

“But you have to.” She insists. “You need to.”

“I don’t want to lose you.” He chokes on a sob. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“You won’t.” She smiles again. “Letting go doesn’t always mean you’re going to forget. It’s nice to reflect every once in awhile, but you can’t keep looking back all the time. You’re not going that way.”

She leans forward, and he closes his eyes when her lips meet his skin. It feels so real; he can almost smell the perfume she used to wear all the time. Her hand against his face is warm and delicate. “I want you to come with me. You deserve to be here. You should be here.”

She’s smiling at him again.  “I’m always going to be with you, Elliot, but you can’t keep beating yourself up over what happened. Accept the past for what it is, and move forward. Remember what you said when you were in that loop, about wishing you led a more exciting life? Now‘s your chance. You can find excitement in this life, this reality, with the people who care about you, and you can be happy too. Don’t let the past hold you back from all of that.” She pauses for a moment, a coy smile curling the corners of her pale mouth. “Just...don't blow up another power plant, okay? Find a safer way to be happy and excited about your life.”

She’s right. Hell, he’s right. She’s just a figment of his imagination. He’s just projecting his idea of her. This isn’t real. She isn’t real. He’s just having a conversation with himself. He’s saying shit he already knows.

“You’re right.” Her voice prompts him to gawk at her, and she laughs; the wind sings through the branches above them. “You do know all of this. You know what you have to do…so do it.”

He nods as he wipes his tears away. “I’m still crazy, aren’t I?”

“Everyone’s crazy.” She reassures him as she rises to her feet and returns to her spot on her headstone. “Some people are just better at hiding it.”

“I’m fucking terrible at hiding it.” He shakes his head. “I’m batshit crazy out of my mind and everyone knows it.”

“And the only people who matter are the ones who know you’re batshit crazy out of your mind and stay anyway.” She reminds him. “No matter what happens, everything’s going to be okay. You know that, right?”

He exhales loudly through his nose as his eyes well up again. “Yeah. I know.”

He’s just about to say something else when his phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out and sighs when he finds a very angry message from his sister. “Shit, I’m late. I gotta go.” He rises to his feet and brushes the grass off his jeans. “I’ll visit again soon, I promise. I’m gonna try and bring Darlene with me next time.”

She shakes her head, but her smile doesn’t waver. “You know that’s never going to happen. She doesn’t do cemeteries.”

“She used to sneak out at night and get drunk in cemeteries with her friends in high school all the time.”

“Okay, she doesn’t do cemeteries like this.” She corrects herself, and he chuckles. “But I appreciate the effort.”

Elliot lets out another sigh. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

She gives him a final nod. “See you.”

He turns and starts walking in the opposite direction, but when he’s just a few feet away he glances over his shoulder one last time. She’s still sitting on her headstone with her hands in her lap. Even though it isn’t real, he wants to have this image tattooed into his brain. He wants to remember this forever.

“I know it didn’t always look or feel like it, but I loved you.” He says with a quiver to his tone. “I always did. I never stopped.”

“I know.” She smiles at him, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. There’s a sadness to her stare, a hopelessness he’s seen on her way too many times before. It brings an ache to his chest, but he forces it down and smiles back at her anyway.

“Goodbye, Angela.”

The wind breathes out a new song, rustling the branches hanging above their heads and kicking up the leaves scattered amongst the grass.

“Goodbye, Elliot.”

Notes:

Story inspiration and title taken from "Angela" by William Fitzsimmons.

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