Chapter Text
“You need to chill.” Elliot’s sitting on the couch, his head rolled back and his heavy-lidded eyes sleepily staring at the ceiling. “You’re working yourself up for nothing. Come sit down and smoke up with me.”
“It’s not just nothing.” Darlene ignores his advice in favour of anxiously walking around her apartment in circles. “And it’s not like you’ve done anything like this before.”
He lifts his head off the couch’s backrest, slouching forward so he can reach for the pipe and lighter sitting on her coffee table. “Oh, I’m scared shitless.” He packs in a fresh bowl and tips the end of the lighter towards it, flicking it a few times before it comes to life. He inhales slowly, holding in his breath for a few seconds; the smoke lazily crawls out of his mouth, gradually unfurling as it rises and melts into the air. “I’m just trying to not let it get to my head, which is what you’re doing.”
“Fuck off.” She eyes the pipe in his hand, shaking her head before making another lap around the kitchen. She’d love to get baked with her brother right now, but there are more important things at hand.
“C’mon, Darlene.” He chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s just Thanksgiving.”
She immediately stops pacing so she can glare at him. “Just Thanksgiving? Need I remind you how our Thanksgivings went?”
“You don’t need to remind me.” Elliot sets the pipe and lighter down. “Look, man, I get it - it’s gonna be weird as hell, but don’t you think it’s about time we had a little bit of normality? It’s the least we can do for ourselves after all the shit we’ve been through.”
He has a point there, but she’s never going to let him know that. “How the hell are we supposed to survive the next two fucking days pretending we come from a normal family with normal parents who raised us normally?”
“We have a plan for that, remember?” He reminds her. “We’ve been rehearsing all week. We’re gonna be fine.”
Darlene laughs humourlessly. “Don’t you find it at least a little bit sad that we have to make up a backstory for ourselves so people don’t get suspicious? It’s not like people don’t know who we are by now. You can thank every fucking news channel in the world for that.”
“We’re not going to twist anything. We’re just…building off what people already know about us - and it’s not like we haven’t done it before.” He shrugs. Again, he has a point, but…
“This is different.” She sighs, finally making her way over to the couch and defeatedly plopping down next to him. “I hate lying to Dom. You know that.”
“Didn’t you say she was in on the plan?” Elliot shrugs again. “And you’re not lying to her - you’re just lying to her mom.”
She rolls her eyes. “Because that makes it so much better.” She rests her elbows on her knees and buries her face in her hands. “This is way fucked up.”
He tries to suppress a chuckle, but is unsuccessful. “Why, because your girlfriend wants to introduce you to her family?”
“Dude, I’m being serious.” She groans. “I’ve never done anything like this before. I never thought I’d get to this point.” She isn’t lying there. All of her previous partners either had families that were just as fucked up as hers or didn’t have one at all, so there was never a it’s time for you to meet my parents phase. She has no idea what she’s walking into.
Elliot, the only other person in this universe with a love life as sordid as hers, lifts his upper body off the couch and leans forward in a similar position to his sister. “Well, it’s just more proof that Dom is different from the rest, right?”
“Exactly, which is why I really don’t want to fuck this up.” She rakes a hand through her tangled hair. “I dunno, to be honest…I’m not exactly scared of lying to her family. That, I can sort of deal with. It’s…” She vaguely gestures with her hands. “Do you ever feel like…the more someone gets to know you, the worse they end up feeling about you? Like…” She sucks in a breath. “The more you show yourself to them, the more reasons you’ve giving them to hate you.”
It’s been running circles around her head ever since her birthday, and it got worse when Dom relayed her family’s Thanksgiving invitation to her and Elliot last week. It’s gotten to the point where she’s been involuntarily spacing out; just the other day, she ‘came to’ in the middle of a packed subway car during rush hour with no recollection of how she got there or where she was heading. She should probably bring this up to Ben, but it’s hard to explain why she feels that way without implicating herself. Elliot would have an easier time understanding, which is why she wanted to see him tonight.
“I get it. It’s part of the reason why I hate opening up to people.” He says after a beat of silence. “But why would her family hate you?”
“I’m not talking about them.” Darlene swallows hard, but it does little to alleviate the pressure building up in her chest. “Dom doesn’t know…everything about me.”
“You mean like the stuff we went through as kids?”
“Not just that.” She shakes her head, biting her bottom lip for a moment. “I’m talking about all the fucked up things I’ve done recently - like, in the past year.” She turns away from him. “You know what I’m talking about.”
It takes him a few seconds to figure out exactly what she’s referencing. “Oh.” He leans back, facing the ceiling once again. “Okay, yeah. That’s pretty fucked up.”
“Tell me about it.” She presses her face into her palms again. “I want her to know, Elliot. I want to tell her everything - and you know that I just don’t feel that way about anyone. It’s just that…I already know what’s going to happen when she finds out, and I don’t want it.” She lets out a shaky, watery sigh. “But at the same time, I can’t blame her if she ends up reacting the way I know she will.”
“You don’t know for sure.” She can tell he’s trying to be optimistic for her sake, and she appreciates it, but there’s no way he’s right. “She might take it a lot better than you think. I mean, she’s done a lot of fucked up things too. She doesn’t really have much of a counter argument.”
“You’re kidding, right? You know how she is - she’s gonna use her job as an excuse for all the shit she pulled, because apparently killing people in the name of the law makes it okay, and after she’s finished kissing the FBI’s ass she’ll tear me a new one for doing exactly what she did. I know how it’s gonna go down. Remember when I told you?” Darlene shakes her head. “It took me months to finally break the news because I knew you’d flip the fuck out - and that’s exactly what you did. Who wouldn’t, honestly? You’d have to be a goddamn psychopath to be okay with it.”
“I mean, you could’ve done it at a better time.” He shrugs. “It was almost Christmas and we just finished cremating Mom.”
“As if any of that actually fucking mattered.” She rolls her eyes. “I could’ve told you on any other stupid day and you would’ve reacted the same.”
“But I’m still here, aren’t I?”
She curls up on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest. “That’s because you’re my dumbass brother. You always stay, even when you shouldn’t. What reason does Dom have?”
“You could say the same for her.” Elliot’s smile is small, almost rueful. “She stays, even when you think she shouldn’t. She obviously sees something in you, just like I do.”
They’ve had this pep talk a billion times, and she doesn’t want another rehashed version of it. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and glances at the time. “Shit. I have to go.”
It’s obvious Elliot knows she’s doing this just to get out of the conversation, but he lets it slide. “You got everything ready for tomorrow?”
“In terms of all the shit I packed, yes.” She rises to her feet, nodding towards the small black duffel bag and the usual purple backpack sitting by the front door. “But if you’re talking about my current mental and emotional state, no.”
He laughs and follows her to the entrance. “It’s going to be fine, Darlene. Try and focus on Thanksgiving for now. You can worry about the other stuff later.”
“Easy for you to say.” She grumbles as she slips her arms through the loops of her backpack and bends over to pick up the duffel bag. “It’s all I’m going to be worrying about until I actually suck it up and tell her. Nothing like a big fat slice of anxiety to go with the turkey.”
“So you are going to tell her.” He opens the door and lets her walk through first.
“Duh.” She rolls her eyes as she brandishes her keys. “I told you - I want to tell her everything.” When her lock clicks, she spins around to face him. “I just…need some time to accept that this is probably going to change things between us.”
“Keep an open mind about it, okay? Don’t count yourself out just yet.” He half-turns to unlock his own door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
She leans in to hug him, and he waves goodbye before disappearing behind his front door. Darlene checks her phone again and sighs; if she dawdles any more she’s going to be really late, but at the same time maybe milking this out might not be a bad thing. Once she sees Dom, it’s only a matter of time until Thanksgiving weekend starts, and who knows what’ll happen with them when they’re back in the city afterward? Maybe Elliot’s right - she should focus on the weekend, on the time they have left together, so that when she finally tells Dom the truth and she decides she can’t put up with her bullshit anymore, she’ll at least have a handful of happy memories to wean herself off with.
She sighs again before squaring her shoulders and finally making her way downstairs.
“Don’t tell me you’re still looking.” Dom finally locks up her safe for the night and crawls into bed next to her, slinking an arm around her waist and resting her hand on the curve of her hip. “Just pick something already.”
“Demanding, much?” Darlene rolls her eyes as she hits play on the redhead’s MacBook, but she nestles against her side anyway. She hates her, she really does, but she’s grown so accustomed to having Dom next to her on cozy nights like these that it just doesn’t feel right not having her there. Plus, it’s well into November now, so it’s a little chilly, and Dom is always stupidly warm for some reason.
Also, she doesn’t know how many more times she’ll be able to be this close to her, so she might as well take full advantage of it.
Dom presses her cheek against the side of Darlene’s head, exhaling slowly as a particularly gory scene bounces off the lenses of her gigantic glasses. Darlene notes the way their bodies seamlessly move against each other; there isn’t an awkward shifting or a trial and error stage where they figure out what’s comfortable. They automatically know how they fit together, almost like it’s second nature. It’s most likely because they’ve been doing this for almost nine months now and it’s just a result of muscle memory, but a tiny - very strong emphasis on the tiny - part of her likes to think that there’s something more to it, that there’s some kind of deeper meaning.
Oh, God. What has she become?
Dom is ruining her.
Or maybe the threat of the impending end to their relationship is bringing out her sentimental side. That’s just as likely, if not more.
With that in mind, Darlene becomes hypersensitive to all of Dom’s movements. She notices that she’ll do something every now and then to remind her that she’s there - a quick kiss to the forehead, fingers drumming against her thigh, a small squeeze of the waist - and while she doesn’t mind it (In fact, she enjoys it, though you won’t catch her dead admitting that out loud), she wonders why she’s doing it in the first place. Maybe it’s Dom’s way of reminding herself that this is real, and that she won’t suddenly wake up alone in a dirty apartment with no one but Alexa to talk to.
Sometimes Darlene thinks this is a dream too. She’s lived a shitty enough life to know when things appear too good to be true, and on really bad days she finds herself counting down the minutes until she wakes up to Janice’s cold eyes staring down at her shackled ankles and wrists - but it never happens. Ben keeps assuring her that doubt and denial are completely normal and that it’s part of the healing process, but she’s tired of feeling this way. She just wants to accept that her life is loads better than it was a year ago and move on already, but also…what if it doesn’t stay this way for long? What if this is it, and it’s back downhill once this weekend is over?
“You okay?” Dom’s soft voice pulls her back. She somehow always knows when she’s mulling over something. Normally this would freak her out, but with Dom, it’s almost expected at this point. They can read each other so easily, even back when they first met. It’s just this weird connection that they share, and Darlene doesn’t really know how to explain it. It’s one of the many reasons why she doesn’t want this to end. Will there ever be another person out there who possesses the ability to understand her the way Dom does? What if there are other people out there, but Dom’s the only one with enough patience to try?
“Yeah.” Darlene shifts, pressing half of her face into the curve of Dom’s neck. Her eyes flutter half-closed as she breathes her in; fatigue is starting to weigh heavily on her, but she forces herself to stay awake. If she falls asleep now, that means morning will come soon, which also means she’ll have less time with her.
Dom probably senses her exhaustion, because she pushes the laptop away so she can wrap her other arm around her and pull her even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
Another thing Darlene will never admit to anyone: She actually kind of loves it when Dom asks her this question. There’s something so attractive about her eagerness to get to know her better; it’s easy to tell Dom’s doing this because she genuinely gives a shit, and not because she’s fishing for information she could eventually hold against her someday. Then again, if this weekend goes according to plan and Darlene divulges the truth, that may change.
Still, it’s nice nonetheless. Maybe it’s just the agent in her and she always has to know the full picture before fully committing to something, but if anything that just makes her even more attractive. Dom has to explore every single detail before making up her mind because she needs to know what to expect. Even after Darlene disclosed some of the ugliest parts of herself, Dom still felt that she was worth trying for. It makes her feel like maybe, just maybe, she isn’t a lost cause after all. Dom doesn’t put effort into things that might be worth it; she only sticks around if she knows for sure it’s worth investing in - so that must mean she thinks Darlene is worth all the trouble, right?
The thing is, she doesn’t know every single detail. Not yet, anyway.
“Are you worried about tomorrow?” Dom begins to comb her fingers through her hair. “There’s still time to back out.”
Darlene almost wants to tell her right then and there, but she vehemently shakes her head instead. “I said I was in. I want to be there.”
Dom raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Do you? No offence, but I didn’t think Thanksgiving was your thing.”
“It isn’t,” Darlene shrugs. “But I know this is important to you, and it’s probably good for me anyway.”
“You don’t have to do this for me.” Dom insists. “I don’t want you to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable.”
“I was gonna have to do this eventually.” Darlene shrugs again. “Might as well rip off the bandaid now.”
Dom sighs. “Only if you’re absolutely sure.”
It’s the least she can do for her. They can have a nice, normal Thanksgiving weekend and pretend they’re a normal couple - and then, when it’s all over, she’ll dump her worst secret on her, and she’ll be alone again, the way it’s supposed to be. At least then, she’ll no longer hurt the people she cares about.
“I am, so stop bugging me about it. Jesus.” Darlene tightens her hold on Dom, almost like she’s afraid she’ll slip away at any given moment.
“Okay.” Dom’s tone is hesitant, but she doesn’t press any further. “Maybe we should turn in for the night. You look exhausted.”
Panic starts to make its way in and she shakes her head again, straightening her back so she’s more in a seated position rather than lying down. “No, I’m good. Let’s keep watching.”
Dom chuckles. “But we never finish a movie. We always fall asleep halfway through and then we start a new one next week. That’s our thing, isn’t it?”
“Oh, it totally is, but...” Darlene angles her head so that she’s able to graze the end of her nose against Dom’s jawline. When the redhead turns to look at her, she lifts herself up a little so she can briefly kiss her on the lips. “This just feels really nice. Can you blame me for wanting to stay like this a little longer?”
She can see a faint tinge of pink on Dom’s cheeks, and she can’t help but grin at the redhead's bashfulness. “I guess not.”
They fall asleep half an hour later.
She wakes up insanely early the next morning because she wants to stretch out the weekend for as long as humanely possible.
Darlene rubs her eyes with the heel of her palm, yawning as she lazily rolls on her side. Dom’s still fast asleep; she has the covers pulled up so high that her eyebrows are the only visible parts of her face. The early morning sun seeps in between the curtains, shining down on her hair; it’s such a bright, vivacious shade of red that it kind of hurts to look at.
When she sticks out a hand to tug the comforter down just a bit, she’s pleasantly surprised when Dom reaches out to her, placing her hands on her hips and pulling until Darlene is on top of her. There’s a bout of soft, sleepy chuckling as Darlene leans in just enough to brush her lips against the redhead’s. “Damn it - I really thought I was gonna wake up first this time.”
“In what universe is that ever going to happen?” The ends of their noses bump together. “Did you sleep okay?”
She scoffs. “What, you think I didn’t sleep well because I woke up early for once?”
Dom shrugs. “You’re usually comatose until noon. What else was I supposed to think?”
She can’t really blame her for feeling that way - because she’s not exactly wrong. Part of the reason why she’s up so early is because her mounting anxiety wouldn’t let her sleep longer, but of course she isn’t going to let her know that, so she laughs it off instead. “You’re such a dick.” Then she closes her eyes and leans in even further so she can finally kiss her.
It’s weird how much she enjoys quiet mornings like these now, how she relishes the little moments they share with each other before the chaos of reality barges in and they have no choice but to get up and face the rest of the day. Mushy morning rapport was never her thing in the past; she used to think this shit only existed in terrible movies because she wasn’t at all convinced that love existed. The worst part about being codependent on someone was waking up the morning after and being forced to spend time with them, pretending she felt something more for them than just a physical need to have them around so she doesn’t have to confront her own issues. Even with Cisco, she would either sneak out before he had the chance to notice she was gone, or she’d pretend to be asleep until he woke up and left to start the day. She only wanted company when her loneliness was dangerously close to consuming her, and then she’d get sick of them and push them away until the loneliness came back. She thought all relationships were like this, and that people just pretended to be in love because it’s what they’re expected to feel for each other. Saying you’re in love with someone is just an excuse to keep them around.
But she knows better now, obviously. Either that or Dom is really good at pretending.
“You’re worried, aren’t you?” Dom, ever the mind reader, reaches up and brushes her thumb across Darlene’s cheek. “Don’t be. You’re going to be fine.”
“I told you I’m good.” She mutters. “It’s just…not what I’m used to, that’s all. Just give me some time. I’ll suck it up eventually.”
Dom frowns. “I don’t want you to suck it up. That means you’re just putting up with it. I told you I didn’t want to make you feel pressured into doing something you’re not comfortable with.”
“It’s nothing like that.” She sighs. “I told you - Elliot and I didn’t have the best parents growing up. Holidays at our house sucked.” A part of her is yearning to tell her more about the nightmare that was her childhood, but there hasn’t been a good opportunity for that yet. Plus, there are more important truths she should be confessing first.
“I know.” Dom brushes some of Darlene’s hair away from her face, tucking a few strands behind her ear. “Just…you’ll tell me if it gets overwhelming, right? Because it gets overwhelming for me, and I’ve had to do this my whole life.”
She laughs. “Were you hoping to use me as an excuse to leave early?”
Dom innocently shrugs her shoulders, unable to conceal the grin forcing its way onto her face. “Maybe.”
Darlene rolls her eyes and laughs again. She’s just about to make another snarky remark when Dom’s hand slides to the back of her head, gently pushing her in for a second kiss. She melts into the redhead’s embrace, moving her hands up to frame Dom’s face as she unashamedly grinds her hips against hers, and when Dom reacts with a soft moan the corners of her mouth curve into a triumphant simper. The hand at the back of Darlene’s head tightens into a fist, desperately pulling at her brown locks, and she suddenly pulls back, grabbing Dom by the wrists and rolling off the mattress so that they’re standing up. Once they’re both steady on their feet Dom lunges forward and smashes their lips together, her hands sliding down to Darlene’s thighs. Darlene eagerly hops up, her legs securely hugging Dom’s sides as the redhead catches her; she cups Dom’s cheeks with her hands and laughs into another kiss as Dom stumbles across her small apartment towards the bathroom. She kicks the door shut behind her, their muffled laughter quickly drowned out by the sound of water spewing from a shower head.
Sex was another thing Darlene never really put much thought into. At first it was just something to do - it feels good, it’s fun in the moment, it means she isn’t alone for a little while. It didn’t have much meaning to her; it’s just a carnal instinct carved into peoples’ DNA. It’s something most people do because they were bred to do it. She had partners who were great at it - surprisingly, Cisco being one of them - but Darlene never really thought of it as a form of intimacy, or a way to show someone how much she cared. Sometimes she and Cisco would end up doing it just so they would stop arguing. Sometimes it was out of sheer boredom. It’s a bridge or a stepping stone that leads her to something else - a way out of this argument, a way out of boredom, a way out of loneliness. There’s nothing romantic about it, especially when she started using it as leverage later on in life. It’s amazing how malleable people become when they’re lonely, or when they’re desperate to have their physical needs met. When she found out she could use sex as a means to get what she wanted, it opened the floodgates for her, but mostly in bad ways. On top of still being alone and hollow on the inside, she now has the guilt of knowing she used someone. She quickly found that the only way she could stop feeling guilty is if she found someone else to take advantage of, so the cycle would start itself again. And again. And again.
She insisted on taking the lead when it came to physical relations with all of her previous partners, mostly because it gave her the illusion of being in control of something, anything at all. The rest of her life may be in shambles, but at least with sex she can say she knows what she’s doing. It’s one of the few things she’s actually pretty confident about, so on top of feeling like she has a handle on it, she gets a temporary ego (And serotonin) boost. She also never felt comfortable enough in any of her previous relationships to just let them do whatever they wanted, because there’s always the risk of something going wrong. They might just do something to kill the mood, or they might even have worse intentions than her. Who knows what kind of crazy shit people are capable of coming up with? At least when she’s in the driver’s seat, she knows exactly what to expect, and that makes her feel safe. No one can hurt her when she’s in control.
But like all things with Dom, it’s different. Sex isn’t used to keep her close, or as a way to stave off being on her own, or to make her feel like she’s in control of her life when she actually isn’t - in fact, she wouldn’t even say she uses it with her, because that implies that she’s doing it for something in return, like a transaction; a simple exchange between two people, like a business proposition. Nothing personal whatsoever. Maybe it’s been like that with her past relationships, but it’s not like that with Dom, not at all. At least not anymore.
Dom never gave her a reason not to trust her. Darlene knows she would never do anything that would jeopardize that, so she’s completely fine with letting her call the shots in bed every now and then. She actually encourages it, maybe even looks forward to it (She totally does, but she’s never going to admit that). Relinquishing control over to Dom and trusting her with this incredibly high level of vulnerability opened up an entirely new way of looking at sex and how truly enjoyable it can be with someone who really understands her. She doesn’t always know what to expect, but that’s okay, because she knows the outcome will never be bad. Dom would never purposely hurt her; she actually does the exact opposite. Dom doesn’t just make sex enjoyable; she makes her feel good - like, really good. She always seems to know exactly what to do, when to do it, and where to do it. There’s never been a time when she was off the mark - not even on the first night it happened, when everything went to shit and changed forever. Even back then, when they hardly knew each other, Dom read her perfectly. She manoeuvred around her like she did this millions of times, like she was already familiar with her body and the way she works. Darlene isn’t gonna lie - it’s pretty fucking hot.
There’s a slow, calculated way to Dom’s methods, like she carefully plans each move before executing them, and it gets Darlene worked up in ways she never thought was possible. Dom was and still is so attractively attentive to her, not just emotionally but physically as well; the way she teases her, the way she builds up the aching, heart racing anticipation, the way she can actually get her to beg - she never felt compelled to beg with any of her previous partners, so imagine her surprise when “Fuck, Dom - don’t stop, please” slipped off the tip of her tongue for the first time - to keep going, to go faster, and when she pushes her off that edge and her back arches and all she can see is stars, her first instinct isn’t to throw her clothes back on and get the hell out. In fact, she looks forward to the aftermath where they collapse in each others’ arms, hair plastered to their faces, both of them out of breath, gasping with satisfied laughter. There’s nothing about the entire process that she dreads; she wants all of it, and she relishes each moment.
There’s still something very raw, very aggressive about it, but there’s also a tenderness that she’s never experienced with anyone else before. It’s a unique kind of connection, a level of deep intimacy that she never felt with anyone else. It never feels futile or pointless; it never happens because she wants something from her. It’s not out of boredom (Well, okay, sometimes it’s out of boredom, but can you blame her?), not out of spite; there’s a reason for every kiss, every caress, every strangled gasp. At the risk of sounding too poetic, she feels closer to Dom every time it happens. She sees it as a testament to that unique connection, and that it’s mutual in every possible way. She hates the term making love; it’s such a Hollywood way of looking at it, but it’s more accurate than having sex or fucking.
To put it simply: Dom is just different, period, which is why things are going to suck when Darlene divulges the truth about Susan and she leaves for good.
After drying off and changing into some fresh clothes, they settle down for breakfast and go over the backstory Darlene and Elliot threw together. “Okay, so,” Dom’s speaking through a mouthful of blueberry Eggos. “How did we meet again?”
“There was a work thing, and Elliot forced me to go with him because I was dumped recently and he was tired of me moping around.” Darlene reaches for the orange juice. “He introduced us and we hit it off immediately. Bam, there’s our origin story.”
“Do you really think my mom’s going to believe that?” Dom quirks an eyebrow as Darlene raises the open carton to her mouth. “It’s so…cliche. Plus, she knows I was working on the Five/Nine case.”
“That’s exactly why she’s going to fall for it - and what’s your point? Elliot already convinced the world I wasn’t part of Five/Nine or fsociety. Meeting at a work function is believable, trust me.” Darlene takes a sip of juice, smacking her lips and setting the carton back down on the table, ignoring the exasperated look on Dom’s face. “Would you rather tell her that, or that we met on the night the Dark Army killed my boyfriend?” She rips off a piece of the last Eggo on Dom’s plate and pops it into her mouth. “I’m sure she’ll get a kick out of the time I fucked you so I could fail at stealing from the FBI.”
Dom snorts into her coffee. “I dunno, she might like that I’m dating a criminal. It would be a nice change of pace, and I think she has a thing for bad boys.“
“Wait, what?”
“She’s in love with your brother.”
Darlene makes a face. “Okay, ew - and he’s not a bad boy. He’s literally the world’s biggest nerd. He got busted for nerd crimes.”
“If he’s a nerd convict, what does that make you? A nerd fugitive?” Dom smirks when Darlene fails to come up with an answer. “She religiously followed CNN for the entire trial. She thinks he’s a hero.”
“Good.” Darlene smirks. “That puts some pressure off me. I totally don’t mind if he’s the centre of attention.”
“You’re not getting off that easy.” Dom laughs. “She thinks you’re a saint for standing by your brother throughout the whole trial. She was over the moon when I told her Elliot was working with me now, but you don’t even want to know how she reacted when I told her we were together. She didn’t want me saying anything about you because she wanted to get to know you herself.”
That gets her to panic a little on the inside, but she plays it cool. “There isn’t much to tell.” Darlene leans back in her seat, trying to look more confident than she actually feels. “The news already told the world I’m from Jersey and that E Corp killed my dad.”
“Right, but there’s obviously more. She’s gonna want to know what you’ve been up to since the trial, what your hobbies are, all that stuff.”
“Fine.” Darlene shoots her a grin. “I can make up some bullshit story about how I’m a corporate slave for Steel Mountain or something. I can be a pen tester.”
The redhead quirks an eyebrow. “Did you just choose that because of the name, or because it’s the legal version of what you actually do?”
“Both, duh.”
“So, you’re a nerd.” Dom deadpans, and Darlene groans.
“Whatever. It’s better than telling her that Elliot lied about me not being involved and that I actually am the co-founder of the cyberterrorist group that was partially responsible for the collapse of the American economy,” She snatches the rest of Dom’s last Eggo. “And that I’m the reason why she had to be faux-kidnapped by an Irish mobster so the Dark Army wouldn’t blow her brains out - oh, and that I’m also the reason why her daughter got a punctured lung for Christmas and almost died.”
“Fair.” Dom downs the rest of her coffee in one gulp. “Okay, last chance. Are you sure you want to do this?”
Darlene rolls her eyes again. “How many times do I have to tell you?” A part of her is begging to reconsider, to say no and to claw at any other excuse to pretend she isn’t hiding anything from her, but she swallows it and plows on. “I’m starting to think that you’re the one who doesn’t want to go.”
Dom gathers their dirty dishes and makes her way over to the sink to wash them. “I mean, if I had a choice, I’d rather spend the whole weekend with you.”
The collar of her sweater feels like it’s closing in on her neck. She stubbornly crosses her arms and looks in the opposite direction, hoping that the warmth on her face doesn’t look as obvious as it feels. “We spend every weekend together. What difference would it make?”
“None.” Dom shrugs. “That’s why I enjoy them. They’re never complicated or unbearable. I love my family and I’d do anything for them, but I can only take them in small doses.” She steps out the kitchen, wiping her hands with a dishcloth before tossing it over the backrest of a chair. “But you? I’d take a million boring weekends with you over Thanksgiving with my crazy family any day. Honestly, that’s why I wanted to leave on Friday instead of waiting until Saturday. I just wanted a few extra days with you.”
Darlene almost has a full on breakdown right then and there. Dom shouldn’t be saying those things about her, she shouldn’t even be thinking those kinds of things about her, not when she doesn’t know the full extent of the fucked up things she’s done. How the hell can she even confess to her now? How can she look her in the eye and tell her that she straight up murdered someone and felt absolutely nothing afterward, or that maybe a part of her actually kind of enjoyed it?
She shakes her head and forces herself to stare at the blank wall next to her as if that’ll somehow get rid of the annoying stinging in her eyes. When Dom steps behind her and bends down to kiss the top of her head, she bites down on the inside of her cheek. She can’t cry right now. She can’t give herself away, not when the weekend barely started.
But of course, she can’t hide anything from her. She’s stupid for thinking she could. “Hey.” She feels Dom’s hands on her shoulders and her mouth moving against her hair.
Darlene rolls her head back so she can stare up at her. “What?”
“I know you’re sick of hearing this,” Dom pauses to briefly kiss her on the lips. “But it’s going to be okay. Honestly, my mom isn’t very hard to please. She’s just happy I’m in a relationship at all.”
The stinging in her eyes intensifies by the tenfold. “Yeah?
“Yup.” Dom tugs Darlene to her feet, pulling her into her arms and chuckling ruefully. “Did I ever tell you how she tried setting me up with Janice?”
Darlene pulls back to gape at her, laughing out of disbelief. “Oh, do tell.”
“She joined my mom’s church group, probably so she can dig up info on my family and use it against me later. I guess my mom thought we’d be a good match for some reason, so she invited her over for dinner. Then everything went downhill from there.”
Darlene laughs again as she throws her arms around Dom’s neck. “Y’know what? I kinda ship it.”
Dom rolls her eyes and leans in, mumbling against her mouth. “Don’t be gross.”
They do a last minute sweep of the apartment to make sure everything’s in order and that they’re not forgetting anything (“No, Dom, you don’t need to bring your gun, Jesus. Who’s gonna fucking take it?”). Elliot finally calls them twenty minutes afterward to let them know that the cab just picked him up and that they’re on their way over.
The sight of the cab parked by the curb forces Darlene’s anxiety to spike. She can hear her pulse thudding in her ears as she tosses her bags into the trunk, and when she ducks into the backseat she feels like she might have a panic attack. She can’t do this. She’s setting herself up for failure. She’s bringing her hopes up for nothing. A couple days of forced normalcy isn’t going to make it hurt any less. She’s going to lose her no matter what. Dom will never accept the truth.
The leather seat croaks as Dom moves in to sit on the opposite side. “You okay?”
Darlene briefly turns towards her, nodding briskly. “Yeah.” When she feels the blood beginning to drain from her face, she quickly turns again to stare out the window so Dom won’t see, but she knows she’s just kidding herself. Of course Dom can see. She doesn’t miss anything.
“I got you something.” Elliot, who’s sitting up front, half-twists his upper body so that he’s facing them. He tosses something in her direction; it’s rectangular and brightly coloured.
Her anxiety is so bad that she doesn’t even register he’s throwing something at her; it hits her knee before it topples to the floor. It’s not until Dom picks it up and places it on her lap that she finally acknowledges it. “Oh.” She picks up the bag of Sour Patch Kids, smiling wearily. “Thanks.”
There’s concern etched on both Elliot and Dom’s faces, but they’re for completely different reasons. It’s making her uncomfortable and it isn’t doing anything to quell the anxiety bubbling inside of her, but she continues to play it cool by laughing at them and ripping the bag of candy open. “What? You want any?” She holds the bag out; Elliot hesitantly takes a few, but when Dom shakes her head she shrugs before tossing a gummy into her mouth. “Suit yourself.”
The cab driver twists his key into the ignition and the engine roars to life. Darlene swallows hard as the car pulls away from the curb and veers back into traffic; the hand that isn’t clutching the bag of Sour Patch Kids grips onto the edge of her seat so tightly that the tendons are visibly quivering beneath her skin. The threat of an incoming panic attack continues to loom over her, pushing her dangerously close to the edge, but then she feels the warmth of Dom’s hand slipping into hers.
“It’s gonna be okay.” Dom squeezes reassuringly. She’s glowing, literally and figuratively; her smile is warm, comforting, and the cold sunlight streaking through the windows is bouncing off her hair. Darlene is suddenly reminded of the way she looked just a few hours ago, peacefully lying next to her in bed with the covers drawn, and a golf ball-sized lump magically materializes in her throat.
How many of those mornings does she have left?
“I know.” She squeezes back, smiling as best she can, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.