Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Carmen wasn’t sure what brought her back there-- on that very same train through France. The soft streaking lights of a passing city, a silent crackle, tracing their path. She smiled at the sight-- at the soft reminder of one of her oldest friends. But the lights weren’t green, not like his old rod; they were the soft glimmer of old city lights, accompanied by the gentle shaking of the train as it continued its route through from Poitiers to Paris. 

Walking through the aisles, she sighed at the quiet ambience of the nearly empty train. It was nice. But nothing was ever this quiet for long.

Why was she in France? There were excuses, sure-- tracing old VILE operatives. But that was just an excuse; there were more reliable ACME members to track them down now. 

Maybe she could be visiting them instead-- she could see how Ivy and Zack were doing, she could see how they fit in with Jules and Devineux at ACME. Of course, she missed them, and they deserved an update on her life with her mother. 

But not today.

Today, nostalgia pulled Carmen through the familiar train, tracing her fingers on the branded seat numbers-- the scent of the dusty old train seats, the occasional open window sending her a rush of wind…

She was looking for a cart number, that familiar number Player had booked her in the first-class carriages two years ago. Most of the rooms were empty-- it was past rush hour, people should be home by now. 

Home... She should be home now with her mother.

What was the excuse she had told her mother? To visit the Orphanage she had donated money to? To see how her funds were being used? 

She frowned. Something else took her hand, tracing its fingers with hers; something else softly pulled her to the embrace of this train, through this familiar route... 

Carmen finally remembered what she told her mother: she had an appointment today, an anniversary with some friends. A date she couldn’t miss. It wasn't exactly a lie. Her mother saw some truth to it and wished her well.

She wanted to be in the cart again-- in that same cart she had met Gray. The carriage she had told him about her life with Vile. 

Today marked two years since that day. 

And so much had happened in those years.

The past few months since VILE’s downfall, Carmen had avoided Australia, avoided any place she could run into him. After all, Gray was free now, free from all of the crime he had committed as part of VILE. He cooperated in taking down VILE. He saved her from their hold. These actions pardoned him from serving any time at all. And he made it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to share his contact information with her, so she avoided him, respecting his wishes.

Besides, she couldn’t face him either, not after all the hurt she had caused him. It still racked her heart. Her fingers pinched, clutching at the metal numbering for a moment. She froze in the aisle, cold blood pulsing through her veins.

She could still see Gray’s anguished face, glowing green from the crackle rod in her hand-- his terrified, pleading eyes begging her to come back-- just before she...

It still haunted her nightmares, leaving her shivering in the dead of night.

She shook her head. It was better not to think about that, not now, not today.

But, she couldn't help it. 

This train reminded her of all the hurt they had caused each other. 

This was the train that Gray nearly killed her on, but he was easy to take down that night. She almost figured it was on purpose. But still, she got captured by VILE a few months after, to be used as the VILE operative they had always wanted her to be, messing with her mind to let it happen. She wasn’t sure if she was mad at Gray for allowing her to live a lie for those 6 months. But, Gray was the one who brought her back, who stood firm through her punches, desperately holding ACME’s device to her head. 

Gray was the one who gave her her life back. She could never be angry at that.

Her fingers finally found the right cabin. 

At first, she was surprised the cart was occupied by someone. But, she nearly jumped when she saw his face reflected in the window, staring up at her through the reflection. Those familiar brown eyes, meeting hers. It could have been a sweet reunion, but no, this felt like a punch in the gut. He had avoided her, and she had avoided him. But she couldn't help but wonder...

Why is he in France?

“Carmen?” His eyes widened, and his voice weak.

His head turned to her. His hair was the same, unruly and pushed to the back. He was wearing clothes she had seen him wear in Australia-- his typical blue jacket and jeans. But, this time, his hood was up, nearly covering his eyes, his brown curls poking from the sides. He looked like he had been crying; his cheeks were dry and red.

She wanted to say something snarky-- Something to make him laugh. The first thing he had said to her, maybe. She could hear his sarcastic little face back on that day, ‘Well, Well. Blast from the past, eh?’ It seemed appropriate. But she couldn’t find the words; she bit her lip, a thousand thoughts pulsing through her mind.

“Well.” He rubbed his neck, smiling up at her. “Late as always, Carm.”  

“Late?” Carmen scoffed, looking into his strange behaviour. She had never seen him so red, but she was still confused at the sight of him. “Why are you here, Gray?”

“Same reason as you… I hope?” He raised a nervous, questioning eyebrow, looking just as nervous as she felt. 

It was almost relieving to see his face. But, if she stared at him too long, she could still see his anguished eyes. He turned away at the same time as she did. But still, he gestured for her to sit in front of him.

She didn’t move, crossing her arms at the door of the room. 

“You left…” She felt like turning away to let him have his peace like he apparently wanted. But, he was here. She couldn’t give this up. She needed answers, so she planted her feet firm. “You never gave me a chance to talk to you. To tell you how sorry I am--”

“Carm--” He frowned, trying to meet her eyes, but turning away at the last minute. 

“No, Gray. I-I almost killed you!” She stammered. “If you didn’t know to put that rod on stun, then… Then I would have… Is that why you left me? Are you scared of me?”

His eyes widened, raising himself from his seat. “Crikey-- Carmen, That is not it! How could I ever be scared of you?” His accent was thick as he spoke. The same pleading came back to his eyes as he looked up to her, like a stab to her chest. He raised a nervous hand to grip his shirt like his chest was tightening. “Please believe me.”

She wasn’t sure how to feel looking at him like this, his face in the same familiar aguish staring back up at her. But... if he wasn't scared of her, then...

“Then why did you leave me?” Her voice cracked.

“It wasn’t because I was scared of you!” He sat back down, running a hand through his thick hair, dropping his hood behind him. “I didn’t want to complicate your life. Every time we’re together, something bad happens. I didn't want to mess up your fresh start, honest, Carm. Please. I really didn’t know you would be here. But- But why are you here?”

His pleading eyes stared back up at her again. This time, he didn't look away. He was waiting for an answer… 

Her heart raced, and her brows furrowed. Why had she come? What did she hope to achieve? Why was it so important? She bit her lip for a moment. She shook her head. 

“Why are you?” She asked, looking back at him

He gestured for her to sit with him. “I’ll say it after you.”

She nodded, quietly taking a seat opposite him. They looked at each other awkwardly. But he had a gaze—a gaze that was searching for the answer-- an answer that kept him up all night.

“I missed you,” she mumbled. “I didn’t think you would be here either.”

His head lifted in a shy smile, “What was that?”

She scoffed, crossing her arms as she leaned back into the couch. “I didn’t think you would be here.”

“No-no. What did you say before that? I didn’t catch it. You zapped me pretty good, Carm. It probably messed with my hearing. I can’t quite hear so well anymore.” He leaned closer, a soft grin covering his dry eyes, humour returning to his cheeks. “You’ll have to speak up a bit for me, love.”

She found a chuckle escape her throat. “That doesn't happen.”

“Sure it does! I programmed the rod myself, Carm. I know it best.” He grinned, eyebrows high in mischievous excitement. The sadness was nearly gone from his face.

She crossed her arms. “I-” I missed you. She opened her mouth to repeat herself but couldn’t. She bit her cheek and rubbed her elbow. She was used to fighting crime, not opposing emotions like this. 

She raised a curious eye when she noticed him giggle across the seat. “What?”

“Let me get this straight.” He leaned on his elbow, with a palm under his chin to lean closer to her, a wicked smirk across his face. “The brilliant Carmen Sandiego-- the woman who could waltz into the greatest museums in the world; dance around security; steal the greatest artifacts the world has ever known; even take down one of the most secretive and notorious criminal empires… Now, sitting in front of me, too nervous to even speak?” He grinned down at her. “That doesn’t sound right.”

She coughed, a blush crept to her cheeks, “I’m not nervous.”

“If you’re not nervous, I’m not in France, trying to win back the one good thing I had in my life.”

Carmen blinked, looking up at him. His face was close to hers, but she didn’t mind. She liked drinking in the sight of him, especially now that they weren’t enemies.

“The one good thing…?” She felt her smile mirror his. “What exactly did you think you would find in France, Gray?”

“Honestly?” He sighed, finally releasing some of his tension. “I didn't think you would be here. But there was a part of me… A part of me wanted to find you again. But, no, I didn't think it would be here.”

Carmen nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. She glanced at the window, waiting to avoid his gaze for just a moment. “I’m glad they didn’t replace this train... You can still see where you fired your rod at me.” she pointed to a dark patch on the ceiling. “And where I kicked you into the glass.” She laughed, nodding to a small crack in the window.

She looked back at him, noticing his soft smile directed at her, a blush creeping to her cheeks.

“You really know how to spin a mean kick.” He still leaned on his elbow, smiling up at her.

“It’s been two years since then, you know.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Has it?” He smiled, taking a long, knowing breath. “I didn't realize.”

Carmen scoffed, rolling her eyes. There was absolutely no other reason for him to be on this train. Was that why he came too?

There was a pause between them, neither of them knowing what to say. An obvious but soft yearning, evident in his eyes whenever she caught him staring at her. But she didn’t hate it. It was a devilishly cute look on him.

She wanted to take his hand. She wanted to travel with him-- spend more time with him. She wanted to bring him back to Veracruz with her. She wanted him to meet her mother. God, she had no idea how much she missed him. Just knowing he was there, right in front of her, brought a familiar aching to her chest. She never wanted him to disappear on her again.

“Gray.” She broke the silence. She needed to break the ice. She needed to talk about what happened. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I almost… I almost killed you.” She dropped her gaze to her feet. “I almost killed you.” She repeated as if trying to convince herself it really happened.

“You have nothing to apologize for... That would have been my fault.” Gray sighed, reaching forward to place a soft hand on hers, resting their joint hands on her knee. 

She looked up at him. His smirk was gone, replaced by a soft gaze down at her hands. 

His warm hand perfectly held her fist, bringing it up to his lips. “I should be the one apologizing.”

She raised an eyebrow, wanting him to continue.

“I didn’t stop any of it, you know. I let them take you. I let them change you.” He shook his head, trying to find a smile in his grief. “It was nice being a criminal with you. I loved being on the same side as you, Carm. It took me too long to realize it was wrong. It took me too long to--”

She frowned, but she didn’t pull her hand away. “No, that wasn’t-”

“I was because of me-” Gray shook his head, interrupting her. “Because of me, you almost killed one of your friends.”

“Gray.” She put her other hand on his cheek, lifting his cheek to face her. There was a glint in his eyes. Real grief, real horror at his actions. “None of that was your fault.”

He laughed. “I was there. I could have stopped it!”

“And they would have killed you.” 

She carefully unwrapped his fist, uncurling his fingers with her gentle touch. She held his hand, running her soft fingertips over his rough, callused fingers. She had never touched his hands like this before, only now realizing how large and inviting they were. She wanted to keep a hold of them, but that may be too much for him. But she couldn’t help it, continuing to play with his fingers, sliding her fingers in his palm. His breath hitched in front of her, but she couldn’t hear it over the hum and shaking of the train.

She continued, noticing he didn’t respond yet. “I would rather be here with you now than be here alone, in a world without you.” 

“Carmen, please .” He closed his eyes, but he didn't pull away. Rather, he abruptly and assertively tightened his grip on her fingers, earning a quiet gasp from her. “Don’t forgive me so easily. I spent so long letting them control you-- so long watching you do things I knew you would regret. I mean-- If it weren't for Shadowsan-- I would have helped you kill your friend! And that, Carm, that was all me. That was a life I chose. ”

She sighed, lifting her free hand on top of his fist, gently holding his frustrated fists in her hold. Despite his anger, they were still gentle around hers. 

“But, you know what you did was wrong. You knew it then, too. Besides, I remember those missions with you. Those six months we had together. I remember you trying to pull me back from decisions that were too far. I- I couldn't always stop myself. But I know you tried. And you were the one who saved me, Gray. I never got to thank you for that.”

He didn’t respond. He turned away from her, looking back out the window, looking at their reflection together, the background of the scenery passing so quick they couldn’t make it out. Gray forced a smile at Carmen’s reflection beside him, holding his hands. Almost like he was too afraid to look at the real Carmen beside him. Too afraid that this was another dream. Too scared she would just leave him again like she had all those other times before. Like he did the last time.

“We’re the good guys, Gray.” Carmen smiled through the reflection.

“We’re the good guys,” Gray whispered in a hesitant agreement. “But, I wasn’t for so long, Carm.”

“But, you are now.” She whispered back, looking back at him to catch his gaze. “Isn’t that all that matters?”

“No.” He scrunched his eyes, shaking his head as if to shake away a voice. “You should know that better than anyone. I hurt people, and I shouldn't be the only one not paying any consequences for that. There are families that I left hurt because of my-- my apathy? My arrogance? My selfishness?”

“Gray-”

“No, Carm. I still have that voice. Telling me to steal something, to be the perfect thief, even though I know it's wrong. It’s a habit, a thrill that I’m trying so hard to stop!”

He didn’t yell. His hands were still gentle in hers, but they were shivering, so she held a little tighter. A surge to help him filled her, so she looked properly into his eyes this time, and a deep acing filled her stomach, a vulnerability and pain that she had never seen in Gray before-- His eyes were creased from lack of sleep, paler skin like he hadn’t been well since he left VILE, since he left her. 

She knew she couldn't say anything to convince him. So, she stopped trying. 

Still, she raised a soft hand from his first, sliding up his arm to his shoulder, absentmindedly twisting a curl in her fingers. She bit her lip before tucking the curl behind his ear.

She slid her fingers into his hair, noticing how soft his hair really was. She softly pulled his head closer to hers, dipping his confused eyes, placing her lips on his forehead. His whole head was hot, sweat playing at his scalp. So, she started playing with his hair as she spoke.

“I wish you stayed, Gray. I wish you were there when I was trying to remember. You were the only one who knew what it was like. It took months before I could look at my friends without a scream in my head telling me they were the enemy-- telling me to hurt them. I knew it was wrong, but the voice was always there...” She gripped his hair tighter. “In both versions... In my life, before this and after, I don’t think I could have hurt you. I always regretted… almost killing you. I could never do that again, even if I were evil. If I had your face around, if I had you around, while I was recovering, maybe I could have recovered faster, I don’t- I don't know…” 

He lifted his head to meet her gaze again, and her hands slid down his shoulder to grasp at his arms. His red eyes stabbing her heart again.

“Carm-” His voice cracked.

But she didn't let him speak, not yet.

“--You said something went wrong every time we met, but I don't think so... Whenever we met, we ended up saving each other from something. I saved you from killing that archeologist on your first mission in Morocco!" Her eyes, pleading to him, "And you saved me from that slimy Neal. You helped me track and destroy Dr. Bellum’s Himalayan Lab. And you also were the one to save me from VILE!”

“Carmen.” He laughed. “Those were all because I couldn't let you get hurt! I chose a life of crime. But every time I risked that life, it was only because I was trying to save you.”

Her face flushed, and she wasn’t sure what to say. She could only look into his eyes reddening again, looking into her as if pleading for something else, something she didn't truly realize he had always been asking for.

“I would risk everything because I love you. I didn't want to risk complicating your life because I love you.” He took her hands from his arms, bringing them up like a barrier between them. “And you touching me like this doesn't exactly help.”

She pulled her hands away from him, a soft startle from his bluntness. He loves me. She missed his warmth immediately. As if apologizing, she kept her closeness to his face. He loves me. 

She wanted to apologize. But not for touching him… She wanted to apologize for letting go. For always letting go. For always leaving him. But, how could she tell him that?

She looked back to the window, in thought, looking at their reflections together, they were finally together, and it was a sight she only dreamed about. His declaration startled her, but it didn't surprise her. It was his face that surprised her. She had never seen Gray so unguarded, so vulnerable. Like a slice of cold air through the window could send him leaving her again. If she said the wrong thing, she was so afraid of losing him… She wasn’t sure what she would do if he left her again.

But, his gaze that returned hers was more empathetic and worried.

“Are- Are you okay?” He stumbled, “Was that too much?”

“No! God, Gray, of course not. I'm just--”

"I know I know,” Gray relaxed his shoulders in a defeated slump, leaning back as he spoke, “Sorry about that. I guess I misunderstood why you came here in the first place.” His gaze dropped as he looked back to the window.

Carmen’s cheeks puffed. She immediately leaned forward, returning her hands to his cheeks with a slap, pulling his startled eyes back to hers. “Hey! I missed you!” She simply stated. “I missed you so much!” 

She wanted to say she loved him. But did she? Could she return his feelings?

His gaze softened, lifting a hand to her cheek and back to her hair, brushing it behind her ear. He smiled into her gaze but, still troubled.

“Don’t leave me again,” she whispered, relaxing in his hand on her cheek. 

Gray grinned, pulling her face into his neck in a tight embrace. She squirmed for a minute as his grip tightened. His sudden touch sent jolts-- electricity-- down her spine. 

“Hey!” Her voice muffled into his chest.

He let her go, revealing his devilish grin. She didn't have time to react before he took her hands and pulled her across the carriage into his lap,  where she awkwardly sat in his grasp, her face squished into his neck where his hair tickled her nose.

“I love you, Carm.” His hands were still firmly wrapped around her waist.

She couldn't hide her smile, finding amusement in his assertiveness at his desire to be closer to her. Warmth filled her chest every time he said it... He loved her. The endearment in his voice sent warmth everywhere-- Endearment for her.

She snaked her arms inside his jacket, wrapping her arms around his waist, and fell into his embrace again.

She remembered all the times he had saved her… When she jumped into him as they fell out of the helicopter, stumbling together, she hugged him for dear life as they fell through the sky, trusting him to help her drop down without being seen, risking his life to hide her escape. When he knocked out Neal in the New Zealand laboratory, a smile as he dropped the crackle rod. When he asked her on a date when his memory was gone, flirting with her even when he didn't remember her. When he really saved her-- He held on to her head, forcing her memories to come back. She could still feel his embrace around her, pleading with her to come back as she struggled-- to come back to him. She realized now he had probably had feelings for her for a very long time. 

But, he wasn't the only one with feelings.

She remembered when she pushed him out of the way of killing the Morrocan archaeologist. She knew he was better than killing. Even in Iceland, she tried to fight off the cleaners; she tried to unlock the jail cell; she tried to get him before VILE could-- she yelled his name as they flew off with him. It broke her heart when she couldn't save him-- when she heard him yelling for her. She felt a sob creep up her throat when she remembered the dread she felt, thinking she had killed him … Gray had saved her memories, but it wasn't enough until Shadowsan could save her heart. It was then, she realized it— she really did have deep feelings for Gray, feelings that probably rivalled his own. 

“I love you too,” she finally mumbled into his chest. 

He pulled her away to look at her face again, despite her desire for his embrace. He laughed, “Say that again, Carm.”

She scoffed, her amusement refusing to leave. “This again?”

“I hear you say it in my dreams. It doesn't feel real. Not yet. Say it again, please.”

She put a sly hand into his thick hair curling behind his neck. “I love you, Gray.”

His fingers found their way up her back and into her hair. “God, you are so beautiful.”

She rolled her eyes, trying to make the nerves go away. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

He chuckled, “There’s my cheeky girl.”

She shook her head, gently running her fingers up his hair, taking in the warmth of his body embracing hers. Warmth and tingles extended to her, sending thrills up her body.

He drank in the sight of her, wrapped around him,  “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, surprised he felt the need to ask, the blush still not going away, noticing how he looked at her.

Gray didn’t hesitate, moving in to plant a gentle kiss, a soft question for her, giving her time to say no, to leave again, if she wanted to. He would never force her to stay, not for someone like him. A moment passed, a moment of her not responding, of her hesitation, are you afraid too?

But his thoughts immediately left him as she returned the kiss, hunger and excitement filling her veins, quieting his demons just for a moment, grabbing a fistful of his hair to pull him closer into her.

His groan was lost under the vibrations of the train, lulling them closer to each other. Electricity passed between them, both knowing how right this felt, wondering why they had not done this sooner. Maybe if he hadn’t left, they could have been doing this for months.

She could feel Grays smirk on his lips as they tried to get closer. Her smaller hands pulling the sides of his jacket closer, tugging him closer.

He traced his hands up her back and pulled her body up to him, another snaking around her hip, drawing her closer and closer.

He pulled away from her, pulling her hair away from him, just for a moment.

“Carm?” His question had an audible grin, a devious tone.

“Hmm?” She groggily opened her eyes, realizing she was still sitting on his lap.

He sat up, pushing her off of him, his hands resting on her hips, looking down as she found her balance. “You love a criminal.” The side of his lip jerked up in a smirk.

“You’re not a criminal anymore. Wait, are you?” She stumbled, trying to take her hands back, but he wouldn't let her. 

“Hold on, hold on. Not anymore,” he said with a laugh. She relaxed in his arms again. “You know I’ve done bad things, Carm.” He pulled her head into his chest

“I know, but--”

“And there’s nothing you can do to change that.” His voice was low and guttural. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as her cheek met his throat.

“Not anymore, Gray.”

He nodded but continued to speak into her hair, kissing her head. “I’d just like to remind you of the man you choose to love.”

She froze in his grasp. “What do you mean?”

She could feel the grin in his voice again, his hands reaching down her arms to grab her wrists. “You remember how you kicked me into this window.” It wasn’t a question.

“I do…” She nearly whispered, suspicious of where he was going. 

“You know I could never hurt you… But I’d just like to offer some revenge if that’s okay.” He paused, waiting for a response before he started anything too rough.

But, what she said, caught him by surprise. 

She purred in his neck, “I’d like to see you try.”

He couldn't help but chuckle, a deep guttural laugh escaping his throat as he pulled her hands up to her sides, stepping forward, pushing her into the window with a silent thud. He pressed her hands against the window and drank in the sight of her below him. 

Her face was nearly as red as her clothes, and he loved how vulnerable she looked, staring up at him, hair sprawled on the damp window. He almost let go at the raw sight of her parted lips; her widened eyes, her reddened cheeks, her nervous gaze. But, she smiled up at him, raising a questioning eyebrow. 

“Is that all?” She whispered. 

He remembered her being chained to the table at VILE. He remembered it happening to himself when he was forced to lose his memory, and she obviously remembered it as well. But, her face wasn't the same terrified face. Her eyes looking up at him yearned just as much as he did. And he was glad being in this position did not trigger those memories. Now, he could have as much fun as he wanted since she clearly wanted it too. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” She lifted an eyebrow.

“Oh, I'm just taking in the sights. France has some beautiful views this time of night.”

“I’m glad to say I agree.” She said, easily snaking her wrists out of his grip, taking his curls in her grip again, pulling his lips back down to hers. 

He was glad Carmen could still surprise him; her thirst for closeness was never going to get old.

Warmth filled his head this time, and electricity filled his body as he pressed his body against hers-- against the window, trying to get closer to her, as close as he could, but it didn’t seem like he could get close enough-- 

Not when he pulled her hips closer to his. 

Not when he tried to pull her jaw higher to him.

Not when she pulled his jacket to be closer to her. 

Not when she pulled at his hair.

Not when she scratched her fingers down his back

He needed more, and so did she. 

They both pulled away to look at the need in the eyes of the other. The smiles and jokes were gone; both possessed by a deep need for each other, something they had both hidden away until the moment they had chanced at the touch for the other, they unearthed a heavier desire. 

His hungry gaze dropped to her neck. 

Her fingers danced on the hem of his shirt.

Gray dropped to her neck, earning a soft groan from Carmen; his curls tickled her chin and cheek. Her fingers danced under his shirt and up to his spine, dancing on his bareback. He pulled her waist closer to him as her fingertips pulled his hips closer, pulling him as close as they could get. 

He smiled, placing hungry lips on her throat, finally making a mark on her, as if a claim on her. He wanted her, and he wanted her to be entirely his.

But this only made her want to equal the field, scratching her nails down his spine in equal force, earning a guttural groan from the boy at her neck. “Carmen." His low voice sent a new vibration down her throat. 

The train stopped as if marking the end of their little exploration of each other. She groaned, pulling her arms from his shirt, raising them back up to his head full of hair, still nipping at her neck.

“Let’s find a place to stay for the night?” Gray grumbled into her neck. 

“Will you stay with me, then?” Carmen asked, voice still quaking, playing with his hair.

“Oh. I won’t leave you again, love,” his head still hidden in her neck as he spoke low, deep and needily. “You?”

She dropped her hand to grip his chin, pushing him away so she could look him in the eyes, eyes full of lust but also utter endearment for the boy. “If you’re willing to come home with me.”

His face softened. “You are my home, Carm. Anywhere with you.” He pulled her into his arms to whisper in her ear, a smirk already making her warm in all the wrong places. “Te quiero,” he purred, his low tone vibrating down her throat.

Carmen jumped, sudden sparks shooting down her spine, surprised he even knew any Spanish, let alone that -- what you whisper to your lover behind closed doors. 

“Gray!” She gasped, pushing him away, but she couldn't help but laugh.

“Yes? Shall we sneak into a hotel tonight, my little Red Sneakaroo?” He grinned down at her,  “This is Paris. Plenty of great places.”

Carmen bit her lip, nervous at the implication. “No sneaking. Besides, maybe we should finish that coffee date first.”

They heard a worker make his rounds to ensure the train was empty. So Gray pulled her hand through the emptying train. “As much as I would love that. It’s the middle of the night, Carm.”

“Stay up with me.” She shrugged, pulling his arm closer into her chest, cuddling it as they walked out of the train. "Catch me up on your life."

He exhaled, trying to let out a weight, still heavy on his shoulders. Still, he couldn't help but smile at the sight of her so close to him, the warmth of her embracing his arm as they walked through the station. Their hands were entwined in her grasp, but he still wanted her closer. 

“Sure," he laughed, "I would love that.”

He guided her out of the station towards a strip of open shops getting ready to close soon.  He smiled at the surreal sensations that filled him, alone with her... The night wind rushed past them in a quiet gust, ruffling through her hair as they stood in the middle of emptying cafes. He laughed as he watched her frown, raising her free hand up to her hair to keep it from getting too ruffled by the wind. He looked to the sky, finally free, finally happy with her.

He smiled down at her, “We can catch up while we watch the stars. It’s a clear night out here.”

Carmen paused, taken aback by his idea. It was a good, romantic idea.

“What?” Gray laughed, noticing her face. 

“Nothing. You’re just a bigger romantic than I thought.”

Gray shrugged, seemingly nervous at the thought. But, something else was edging at this mind. “Do you… Do you remember everything from those six months?”

“Hmm. I think so… Why?”

Gray brought a nervous hand to his neck. “Do you remember our first kiss?” Gray’s voice lowered to a shy whisper.

Carmen stopped walking. “Our- Our what?”

“Oh.” He ran a nervous, almost guilty hand through his hair, letting out a long exhale. “You don't remember.” 

“Why do you seem so upset about it?”

“It wasn’t one of my best moments.” He frowned.

Carmen pulled him to a stop. “We get coffee from that shop first.” Her eyes were narrowing at the sight of his nerves, but her grasp on his arm did not waver. “Then you tell me.”

She doesn’t know the half of it. Oh dear God, she doesn't know what she did.

Chapter Text

___________

He wasn't there when it happened, but he could hear her through the vents. Her muffled scream. He screamed like that too when it happened. Molten-hot, yet ice-cold pain shooting through his head, through his veins extending through his body, feral and pained. Her scream, as pained as his, just hearing it broke something in him. 

It only took one pained look in the mirror, and he saw the man he truly was. He broke it in a swift, unrecognizable motion; a dozen scattered, tear-stricken scowls stared back at him. And, his blood dripped down the broken glass. What was he doing? Who did he think he was?

He scratched his bloodied hand down his cheek. Carmen... Why did it have to be Carmen? Not her voice, Screaming. Terrified... Gone.

Carmen, gone? No. He would get a Carmen from this. An ideal Red Caper. A perfect little partner. Isn't that what he wanted all along? Isn’t it?

It wasn’t what he wanted, not at all.

He loved her. And this... this wasn’t her, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

Six months is such a long time to be controlled. A dreadfully long stretch of your life, not yours anymore. 

What kind of man did that make him?

A man undeserving of anything good, let alone her, not her, he didn't deserve her. Anything but her. She could never love him after knowing what he did-- what he let happen to her. What he let her do to herself.

___________

He ordered his coffee.

They had found a bench across from a fountain. The moon reflected off of the stilled water; he could only imagine how beautiful it would look when it turned on in the morning. But now, the moon and stars were still in the water, the chilly winds brought occasional rustles to the water’s surface.

He dipped his head behind the bench and lifted his glossy gaze to the stars. His shoulders felt too heavy. He just needed a moment—a moment to himself to breathe. 

Carmen quietly sat beside him, watching him. 

But, he didn't look at her. He couldn't face her, he needed a moment.

...

Graham knew Carmen never actually wanted him, not until today. But why did she? Maybe this was a dream-- another lie. 

She was the best thing that had ever happened to him. So why? Why did she want me?

He was not only a criminal; he was someone who knew what he was and didn’t even try to stop. In fact, he chose this life. He was immoral; he hurt people, sometimes beyond repair. And that was all his choice. Since his graduation from VILE, stealing was all he could see himself doing. 

Carmen made her choice, away from all that. Away from him. 

But, whenever he saw her, memory or not, he wanted to be close to her. And, it broke his heart whenever she left. All she was, was heartbreak. She just kept coming and going, as if she, herself, was playing with the idea of him being good. 

Oh, Carmen. I’m not good enough. Not enough for you.

He could never blame her for leaving him. When she left VILE, she made it clear the beliefs she stood for. In this black and white world of ‘good guys’ and ‘bad guys’, he found her nickname for him so ironic. Gray. How bloody poetic-- as if she saw both sides in him. 

He didn't think he deserved that nickname. Gray?  

No. He was a criminal with a record that could give whiplash to any prosecutor.

That was why he insisted on being called anything else, and so, he always insisted she called him Crackle . 

...

“Gray?” Carmen put a soft hand on his shoulder. 

He groaned, rubbing his fingers over his eyes, washing them from the daze the stars had given him. 

She still rested her hand on his arm, concern washed over her face.

For once, he felt guilty from her touch-- He didn’t deserve it. He was used to feeling inadequate, always trailing her shadow, always chasing her light, never able to grasp it. But, when he could touch it, it was a lie, a crackling orange light, tainted green. It was a rose of thorns running up to even the petals. It hurt to touch, it even hurt to admire, and he needed to set it free.

Gray turned, and painfully smiled up at her, unsure if this story would lead to them separating again. But, he needed to be honest with her. If anything, he would look back on this night for the rest of his life-- The one night they could indulge in everything he’s dreamed they could be, without any of the lies.

“Are you okay, Gray?” She rubbed his arm, scooting a little closer but not quite close enough. 

“Of course.” His coffee warmed his shivering fingers, trying not to move away from her touch. He sighed. He couldn’t look away from her-- She was so real, so beautiful, and so close to him. But still so far. And so close to leaving him again. “Of course, I’m okay."

“You know.” Carmen got more comfortable on the bench, sitting cross-legged beside him, lifting her coffee to her lips. “It was only a kiss. You don’t have to talk about it. Not tonight. We have all the time in the world.”

“I do. I really do. You deserve to remember.” His voice dropped low and grief-stricken. He ran his fingers over the plastic lid of his coffee. “And… It wasn't just a kiss.”

_______

“We were in France, a collection of Lords and government officials came to this gathering. It was a ball, a beautiful meeting, really. I finally got to see you in a dress. I finally got to dance with you.

The dance itself was short, but we had a week of practice to prepare for it, and with every rehearsal in our hotel rooms, I only wanted you more.

And the night finally came. We wore matching attire; your little red and gold dress and my tailored red suit. It was almost as if the green of Vile left us that night. Except… red was the only colour you agreed to wear. A constant reminder of who you used to be. 

It haunted me, Carm. And, I did nothing about it...”

…

All throughout the ballroom, Gray took every chance he could get. 

While they danced, his gaze was glued to her form. And so were his hands. He slid his fingers down her sides in fluid, practiced movements. 

When the right moments came, he never let her go, sliding his fingers down her arms, her hands, and down her little red dress. The longer they danced, the more his touches lingered, and his hunger grew.

He could control himself, knowing she didn't feel the same. But, this wasn't the girl he knew. This was a stranger in his arms, with a vague resemblance to the girl he fell in love with. It all played with his mind too much. She was so close to being Carmen; it tricked him too often, convincing him there was enough of her in there… Just enough for his thoughts to be okay... They were just so similar sometimes... 

The real Carmen always did sort of tease him with her flirtatious little smirks. A similar look to the grin and teases she gave him when they danced that night. 

But, the stranger knew how he felt; the stranger felt his struggle. Was she teasing him about it? Did she want it too? Did it matter what she wanted? This wasn't Carmen. But, wasn't it?

In the ballroom, the violins and piano gently guided them to each other; they danced like they were in a different reality. God, it was perfect . It was everything he imagined. He pretended and pretended and convinced himself it was real, if only for the night. 

Did it mean nothing when he took his hand in hers? 

When her arms wrapped around his neck, and around his waist? 

He loved it, and he knew she did too.

It didn't feel like it meant nothing.

Especially not when he twirled her across his arm, watching her dress gracefully twirl with her.

Not when she softly smiled at him throughout the dance. 

Not when he tugged her hand, spinning her back into his chest,

And, not when he smiled back down at her, warmth erupting from the two of them.

Enwrapped in his arms, she gently drew her clothed fingertips across his body, teasingly, and finally curled her fingers around his neck as they slowed their dance. 

At the moment, he was convinced her smile was just as wistful as his own, staring up at him. 

Her familiar waist swayed with his.

Her cheek pressed into his chest.

It was as beautiful and romantic as he always imagined a perfect life with her could be. 

When they first met, Carmen grabbed him and pulled him over his chair to prove her skill. She smirked then too. Gray could feel her talent and her power, and he wanted to be her friend. They were too young to indulge whatever feelings were brewing, but he knew he wanted to grow with her; he wanted to stay with her.

But those eyes weren't the ones dancing with him on that night. 

They had darkness in them. Carmen never had that darkness. 

But, her body was so small and innocent, pressed against him. 

Her hands, so gentle, pressed into his neck; her grasp at his hand was so perfect. 

In times like this, he convinced himself she was really Carmen. What was so wrong with it? They weren't hurting anyone. They were dancing. The moment was theirs.

But this wasn't Carmen. He wanted Carmen. He wanted the dream of them together. But, the lie tasted like gold. A perfect little dream that he could get lost in. 

Gray knew the real Carmen wouldn't touch him like this.

But, he craved her lipstick on his lips, he craved her lips down his neck. 

He needed her hands in his hair, pulling him as close to her as they could get. 

Whenever he traced his fingers over her dress, he couldn’t help but think about ripping it off of her. 

Her lips got closer with every twirl, every slow moment. 

She slid one arm around his neck, into his hair, gently pressing her body against his, and they slowly danced with the rest of the ballroom. 

He needed her.

They needed to go; they needed to finish their mission. But, what was their mission? He didn't want to remember. He just wanted to continue their delicate dance. 

He wanted this moment to last forever.

She was the first to lift from his chest and look into his eyes. 

She smiled up at him, but it quickly turned nefarious and cunning, her eyebrows lifted in a smirk, deftly twirling with the hair at the nape of his neck, tugging it, to get his attention.

She pulled him down to her, making his lips just hover hers. 

Heat erupted his cheeks, staring down at her, hungry, beneath him. 

But she didn't kiss him. 

She grinned. 

Her lips traced his as she spoke, “Let’s get this started.” 

…

“We had a mission,” Gray spoke to the cool night air, a misty cloud tracing his words. “During the dance, you knew I was distracted. I pulled us around the ballroom, and you listened to all the whispers I was supposed to hear. We met the contact we were supposed to steal from. He left the case at his drop-off point, but he started a conversation with me, knowing the man I was impersonating. So, I indulged in some distracting conversation while you went off to steal it. I could see you through the window, you know, behind the man I was distracting. It was quite amusing, really. Chatting with him while I watched you beat up a whole group of guards, without a peep of noise reaching anyone outside the door. It really was quite a sight watching you kick ass in high heels and a tight dress.”

He could see her roll her eyes but he laughed it off and continued.

“Unfortunately, he came back and realized we weren’t who we said we were. I knocked him out when he came back, but he was trailed by some extra guards.”

Carmen sipped her coffee to her lips. “How did we get out of that one?” 

Gray frowned, “Down the kitchen garbage chute.” 

“Ew. Really?”

Gray grinned. “Of course not! You always had flair in your escapes. And this was nothing less than your best one.” He winked at her as if he was telling her a gripping heist story that involved some other rogue hero.

Carmen shot an amused look at him. “Do tell, then.”

“We knocked out half of them with our tools and my rod. We managed to find a window across a hall, and you wrapped a dramatic arm around me -- your dashing partner -- and used your little grappling hook to swing us out right into our escape van.”

Carmen shot him a glance, a slight smile, noticing he really wanted to lighten the mood between them. 

But, she couldn't help but wonder… “Did I… Did I kill any of those guys?”

“I…” He scrunched his eyes, fingers trailing his cup again. “I really don't know. I did once tell you I couldn’t stand around and watch you mercilessly hurt people.”

Carmen mumbled a curse. “What did I say?”

“Then sit down.”

Carmen rolled her eyes. “Did I really?”

“You are quite snarky sometimes.” Gray laughed. But, he quickly noticed her somberness. “It wasn’t you, Carm.”

“Then why do I feel so guilty?”

“Because you’re a good person.” Gray sighed, watching her resign into the bench, staring up at the night sky as he had earlier. He recognized the longing stare, getting lost in unhealthy thoughts and anxieties. “Well, no one else gets beat up in the rest of the story.” He caught her gaze in the corner of his eye.

“There’s more?” Her voice was already tired.

“I did say this was our first kiss. We haven’t even gotten to that part yet.”

“I didn't kiss you on the ballroom floor?”

“Not really.”

“Well, I should have.” 

Gray interrupted her, choking on his coffee. “Excuse me?”

“Honestly. In any other circumstance, that really would have been a perfect evening with you. And, if we did it again, I think I would have kissed you.”

“Well.” Gray’s voice suddenly cracked. Carmen wasn’t sure if it was from shyness, nerves, or exhaustion. But, he continued, “I don't think you’ll be saying that about the rest of what you did-- or, what we did.”

…

The cleaners drove them away from the mansion. Carmen was riding on the success of all of her capers, demanding the best treatment of any operative, and getting it, all of the faculty convinced that she deserved it. The only tradition that they didn't allow her to break was delivering the package to VILE island herself, so they handed it to another Operative on the road. 

The cleaners dropped them off at a private plane strip, where a private plane waited for her to take them back to VILE island.

He couldn't lie; perks like this were one reason he loved going on missions with her. Her own private plane, with showers and real couches. Usually, it was just a cargo plane. But, Carmen demanded better. Carmen deserved better. 

Playing off their flirting earlier, he took her hand from the van and led her up the stairs to the plane. Her long dress bellowed in the wind as they walked up the stairs. It was a sight from his dreams, and he couldn't help but smile as he guided her hand along the path… Pilots were already waiting for them, and escorted them inside. 

Her usual red jacket and fedora waited for her, draped on a couch at the entrance. But she didn't take it. Instead, she took a tighter hold of his hand and pulled him farther into the luxurious plane. She hesitated for a moment and returned to grab her fedora. 

Gray laughed, letting her tug him back and forth across the plane.

He grinned, even more, when she tugged him along to the couch.

She kept hold of his hand as she dropped into the cushions and put on her fedora.

You look like yourself whenever you wear that hat. Almost like you’re the same person I fell in love with.

He was forced to watch as she looked him in the eye and kicked off her heels. A devilish grin on her lips as she tossed her heels to the side, gripping his fingers a little tighter.

Oh.

Gray always thought he had some goodness in him, at least when it came to respecting people, and women in particular. He would never do anything to cross a line, he thought-- he hoped.

His button-up and suit suddenly felt tight. He wanted to take them off, just for the heat. He wanted this to go farther too. He wanted it. But, should he?

She abruptly pulled him down to her, knocking him from his thoughts. 

His hands fell behind either side of her head, boxing her into the couch

And she grinned up at him, making his lips hover over hers.  

Heat erupted from his cheeks to his core.

Oh no. 

He gulped, wondering what made her so assertive.

“Take off your jacket, Gray.” Her voice was slurred, just as drunk as he felt. He would kill a man if she asked him like that.

She wanted this. She wanted me.

Gray quickly obeyed, removing his red suit jacket, and tossed it to the floor before returning above her. She retook his hands, pulling them to her shoulders, backing herself on the couch. He lifted a knee to the sofa to find a balance over her. He brought his lips to hover over her again. Glancing at her painted red lips, he needed her, he needed to finally feel her on him, properly, and fully.

The engine started, and the plane started moving. The movement startled him away from her lips, already regretting not kissing her, but he couldn’t look away from her, not when she looked at him like that . Her eyes wanting him-- her hands touching him . 

With a mischievous grin, she pulled him down completely, making him stumble onto the couch beside her. She pushed his back into the cushions, and she climbed onto his chest, straddling his hips. Her hands pressed firmly to his shoulders, she grinned down at him.

He took a moment to catch his breath; he watched her gather herself above him, setting her hair neatly under her fedora. He was utterly intoxicated by the sight, by the sensations-- as if she was a drug, his only source of life, and he had been dying his entire life. He needed her.

But, which Carmen was this? Would she really want this?

Carmen grinned down at him as if answering his demons. Her cheeks were red and flushed, her pupils dilated and full of need, and her smile just as devious as her intentions-- it sent thrills up his body. 

Even her red fedora teasingly still sat on her head, her hair typically sprawled around her, imitating the dream he always had of her. 

She lifted her hands to his tie, brushing it down his chest, feeling the velvet design in her fingers. “You looked so perfect tonight.” She purred. 

She slowly wrapped the tie in her fist and suddenly pulled his neck up to her.  His breath hitched.

God, this should be illegal. 

She hovered her lips above his this time, grinning like he had never seen.

But, the plane was picking up speed now, tilting her head closer to him. And she chuckled. Or was it a laugh at him? God, it didn’t matter. She was too much-- his heart nearly bursting from his chest. 

She quickly undid his tie and slid it off his neck, tossing it to where his jacket lay. His outfit was meant to match her style, and he found it amusingly ironic how quickly she ripped the red off of him but added even more to herself.

And she pushed his shoulders back down, pushing his head back into the cushions; he was victim to the captivating scene hovering above him. The force of the plane lifting off the ground shoved his back farther into the couch, and her hips fell deeper into him. Gravity itself pushed her hands flat on his button-up, up his chest. She dipped her head and moved her hips into his. 

She knows I want this, but- but so does she.  

His hands drifted to her hips, following their motion as they pushed down on him, demanding more. 

He couldn’t help but tilt his head back and allow himself this moment. 

Her fingers methodically moved up his collarbone, slowly undoing his top few buttons. Her fingers pressed into his bare chest, finally touching him. It felt so perfect-- her fingers finally pressing into him like this, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Fuck, Carmen.

He opened his eyes to see her gaze drifting down to his lips. There was no smile, no smirk, no tease. She was just hungry. 

Her fingers traced up to his neck, and her nails scratched at him as she traced around his chin-- his jaw-- and neck. She was either searching for something, just touching him, or teasing him. But he didn't care, her touch on him like this only made him want her more. 

She paused for a moment, her gaze returned to his lips, and she slowly brushed her thumb across them. She exhaled, and finally, she smiled down at him. 

Why did her smile make his chest burst like this? Why did it make him miss her when she was right here?

As soon as the plane levelled, she didn’t hesitate; she dropped her red painted lips to his. The kiss was soft, languid, and asking. This Carmen never asked for anything. But, now, here, she did. Her fingers wrapped around his neck, grasping tighter, sending him blissful heat through his body. Her hands smoothed into his hair next, taking a fistful of it. 

He closed his eyes, falling into the moment again, and hesitantly kissed her back, letting his hands play with the cloth at the hip of her dress. 

But she pulled harder on his hair, demanding more. 

Gray felt a deep vibration in his throat and obliged. 

He pulled her hips deeper into his. If she didn’t feel his arousal before, she definitely could now. He forced her rhythm to match his demanding pull, and her weight properly fell into him, as if she truly gave into him this time. His fingers locked behind her hips, encasing her in his grasp.

This didn’t feel right, but fuck, did it feel like heaven.

He felt worshipped like a statue, but she only drowned his lungs with molten gold. 

Beneath his closed eyes, he could only see the red shadow of her hat, and he could so easily pretend it was her.

Please, forgive me.

Gray kissed harder, feeling her hips shift into him. 

They needed more.

He unlocked his fingers, scratching his nails against the thin fabric of her dress, trying to rip it, he dug his nails up her sides. She made a small, encouraging whimper on his lips. 

More.

But it was like the edges of her dress were edged with barbed wire. 

Whenever she lifted her lips, he cried out like a knife was being pulled from his chest.

… Why did this hurt so much?  

He decided to ignore it-- to see if it would go away.  

So, he slid his arms up higher and into Carmen’s neck, getting lost in her hair. He pulled her neck into him, deepening the kiss, wherever she decided to kiss.

Wasn’t this the successful life he imagined? Their skills lifting them to new heights? The love of his life, crawling up his chest, wanting him just as much as he wanted her? 

Carmen broke their kiss first. 

Gray opened his eyes just to watch her lick her lips, a malicious little smirk staring down at him. 

He wasn’t sure if a noise escaped him, but it felt like she just pulled another dagger from his heart.

Her fingers danced a path around his jaw and down his neck. It was hard to remain quiet with her hips still pressed down to his, wanting more than he could give, looking at him like he was the only thing left in the world she wanted.

His hands wanted to pull her closer and closer-- but he accidentally knocked off her fedora.

He could see her properly, draped all over him. 

Her lips-- daggers, finally dropped to his neck. He wasn't sure if he made a noise; he was too distracted, her lips marking his neck, and her hair sprawled on his chest, tickling his cheeks.

It felt so good-- exactly how he imagined it, with every kiss she trailed down his neck, warmth spread from his head to his feet. He would only consider pushing her away if the goddamn plane was shot down. But-- But he could feel her moving over him-- This- This wasn’t Carmen. In any other world, he would find so much joy in her wanting him this much-- her body moving against his like this. But-- This… This wasn’t...

Carmen looked up at him again, hunger in her eyes. 

Her hips demanded more, pressing down to his-- she wanted more. 

Heat filled every corner of his body. He wanted to tear off her dress. He wanted her to rip off his clothes. He needed her now. And, she needed him even more.

Her hands traced up his arms and hungrily found his hands. 

She took them in her grasp.

“Gray .” She purred his name like a prayer-- no, like a demand.

He obeyed, letting her venomous hands drag them where she wanted. 

She pulled them at her hips. 

But he froze, realizing she was trying to pull them lower. 

She tugged, but he sat them frozen on her hips.

“Gray, Please.”

Ice filled his veins, replacing the heat that encompassed them both. 

The sight of her broke his heart--- like he was the one being shot down-- 

it felt wrong, 

it felt immoral. 

He couldn’t do this to her.

His throat hitched like he was choking on the dream-- he was choking on his gold. 

His chest tightened. 

It was devouring him, engulfing him, drowning him.

He couldn't breathe.

He wanted to scream.

He tasted blood. 

Had he been clenching so hard he bit his tongue?

He had to stop this. But how?

If he told her something was wrong, she would ask why. 

He would have to lie. 

He would have to lie to protect himself. 

It could save her. But, it could kill him.

“Gray .” She repeated, growling and finally trying to reach for his belt.

The pain in his chest soared.

No. Wait. Wait- Stop.

Heat crashed into his eyes.

And tears trickled the edges. 

He couldn't do this. 

Not to her.

It didn't matter which Carmen she was, she noticed. 

And she stopped, frozen above him. 

She didn't apologize, but her eyes furrowed. 

She was confused.

No one knew what to say.

But, they both knew.

Her hand whipped to her forehead as she lifted herself off of him. 

She massaged her temples and clenched her eyes as if trying to wake up from a dream.

…

"You were confused, but you lifted yourself off of me and paced along the plane for a moment, clenching your head. You looked like you were in agony. But you never brought it up again. You acted as if it didn’t happen, and we went back to our normal selves, teasing each other every so often. But, you never tried it again, and neither did I...." His breath cracked as he finished the story. 

The last words hung in the air, creating a silence between them.

Carmen avoided his gaze for the last bit of the story. She could hear the tears edging his eyes. If she looked at the pain in his face, it would break her just a little bit more.

It was so ironic. The things they regret the most, none of it was really their fault.

But, concern washed over Carmen. 

She wanted to know what he felt, what he was thinking-- if he could ever forgive her.

She didn't know what to say yet. 

But she had to try.

She wanted to apologize.

She needed to tell him something. 

She turned and spared a glance at him, and she choked just looking at him. She pulled a hand to grip her chest, clutching her red hoodie. 

He grit his teeth, and his cheeks were red. His eyes were shut tight-- but she could see tears around the edges of his eyelashes.

She gripped her chest just a little bit tighter, her chest tightened just thinking about speaking. She couldn't, not yet. What could she possibly say to him? Could she even say anything to make him feel better? Was there even anything she could say?

He released a frustrated groan, pulling his forefingers to his forehead again. 

He dipped his head behind the bench and raked his fingers through his hair in a familiar motion. 

He stayed there for a moment, exhaling a shaky breath. 

Gray’s hair was even more unruly than normal. It was typically styled up, but now, he had been frustratingly running his hands through his hair so much, it flew everywhere.

“I’m just not good enough for you.” 

Gray didn't say it. But, she heard it in his voice, in his demeanour, in his actions around her, in what he said, and how he said it.

“You deserve someone better.”

She could hear his demons now. She knew what had been bothering him now. The real reason he left her.

But, she didn’t believe in that. 

If she did believe it, she would have to wrestle with the idea that he deserves someone better than her. She hurt people, quite possibly killed, on the very same night she did that to Gray.

It was far more complicated than whether or not they deserved each other or if they were good enough for each other. What did that matter when they wanted each other like this? What did it matter when they were this compatible? What did it matter? He stopped her from going too far. He saved her. For goodness sake, he broke down when she went too far! He put himself at risk for her!

She knew she would regret it for the rest of her life if she let go of him now.

She turned to face him. But, he didn't look up yet.

“Funny thing about goodness …” Carmen spoke, trying to shake the tears from her eyes, “People think it's so black and white. People think being good is the absence of bad thoughts. But, I don't think it’s that simple.” She looked into the stars in the same direction he looked before, but she relaxed her shoulders this time and smiled. “I think goodness is really when you choose to behave morally, in spite of bad thoughts. You know?”

Gray didn't say anything, but he did lift his head to look at her, his red eyes waited for her to continue. Or maybe, he was just looking deeper into her. What he saw or felt, Carmen had no idea.

“Grays and Reds in a black and white world…” She laughed, playing with the already broken plastic lid of her long cold coffee. “I think that makes us nice together.” She smiled up at him, “It’s like what they say about courage. It's not the absence of fear but what you do despite it. You saved me, risking everything…. I- I just can’t see why you would ever think you’re not enough.”

Gray took her hand, and his brows furrowed. He looked at her, saying her name like a prayer, eyes full of love and something resembling admiration. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it. He could only massage the hand in his grasp while thinking.

But, since he was still here-- since he was still touching her, maybe he didn't feel as bad about it. She wanted him to feel loved, welcomed, and embraced. She wanted to touch him, but she knew she couldn’t brush the feelings out of his face like a stray hair. 

"I remember dancing with you, you know…” Carmen kept talking, “it gives me a headache wondering what I really wanted," her eyes scrunched for a moment, trying to think. "It's hard to know… for sure… but..." 

She shook her head and lifted herself from the bench. She tossed her empty coffee in a nearby trash bin and quickly turned to stand above him. He turned his head to look up at her; confusion muddled his grief. 

She raised an open palm to him-- as if to help him up.

Gray raised an eye, leaving his untouched coffee on the bench. He hesitantly took her hand and let her help him stand. He still looked confused, but he didn't leave, and she found his confusion absolutely adorable.

She softened and smiled up at him. "Let's dance."

He immediately laughed, despite the grief all over his sunken shoulders. “What?” 

She bit her lip. It was a ridiculous and silly idea. But she wanted to redo that night. This was a silly way of trying, but they were here, and he was safe with her this time. Nothing could hurt them, not anymore. At least for the night, the world was theirs.

"The stars are witness to our first dance as a couple." She winked up at him.

"Cheesy," he smiled.

She shrugged, reaching her arms to tug around his neck, slowly resting her cheek on his chest. She could hear his rapid heartbeat. She felt his chest rise and fall. Slowly, he wrapped his arms around her waist. He dipped his slouching head into her neck, his hair brushed her face, and she could feel his wet cheeks on her neck. She gripped him a little tighter.

“But, us, a couple?” He took a shaky breath, “I love the sound of that." 

“I think my mother would like you.” She spoke into his chest.

“ACME told me a bit about your father… Tell me, Carm… Does it run in the family to have a thing for morally ambiguous men?” Gray laughed into her hair, pulling her affectionately tighter as he teased her.

“Don’t push your luck Mr. Graham Cracker .”

He grinned, “I still stand by that name.”

“Of course you would.”

.

Neither of them paid attention to the time as they swayed to their imaginary song, in their imaginary world. They eventually became perfectly in sync as they stood alone in the deserted Parisian square; a street light shone above them, spotlighting their dance like it should be on display to the world. But it was just them, dancing with the moon and the stars.

For such a beautiful night in this breathtaking city, there was nobody else there to bother them. No other couples running around the square. After years of stealing moments from them, the world seemed to give them this one moment back, as if asking for forgiveness for stealing time from the thieves. 

“Don’t you ever leave me again,” Carmen said, nuzzling her cheeks into his chest. It was wet. Had she been crying?

He stood straighter, lifting his face from her neck, taking a deep breath. He rested his chin in her hair. She could practically hear the grin in his breath.

“I won’t let you out of my sight, Carm.” He affectionately pressed a hand against the back of her head, keeping her securely against his chest. “And if I do,” he grinned, “I’ll find your little hacker friend. I’ll coerce him into helping me find you.”

She smiled in his chest, wrapping her own arms tighter around him.

They were lost in their little embrace, together, finally.

She was barely awake in his arms; he had to use a lot of his weight to keep her upright. But, he didn't mind, not at all. She was in his arms. She was his, at least for the moment.

They weren't sure how long they stood there.

But, eventually, something made them turn to the horizon.

The sun was peeking over already. 

And the fountain beside them gently sprinkled on, as if to say good morning.

...

Gray hailed them a cab, and together, they easily found her hotel. She was the only one between them who thought ahead enough to keep one. 

Carmen kept a firm arm around his waist as they got out of the cab and walked up the road to the hotel.

They were both so exhausted by the time they got to her room door. She fumbled through her pockets to find the right key for a few long moments. Gray eventually stopped laughing at her and helped swipe the card to open the door. They didn't need to turn on the lights; the morning sun welcomed them into the safe embrace of the room.

She didn't hesitate to guide him in. But, she noticed him freeze, glancing to where the bedroom would be. He turned away a moment later, smiling down at her, despite obvious pain beneath his eyes. She didn't want to push him to the bedroom, not with that story fresh in their minds. So, she quickly closed the door behind him and led him to the couch. 

Gray let her go, chuckling to himself as he walked her flop onto the couch. She kept a firm hold on one of his hands and softly pulled him to the couch next to her. He let out a satisfied breath as he fell next to her.

She turned to him, leaning on her side to smile up at him-- just because she could. It helped that he was nice to look at, especially lounging on a couch, half asleep.

Gray quickly noticed, scoffing. He opened his arms to the tops of the couch and smiled back at her; his dry, red cheeks dared to wink at her.

She was too tired to be cheeky back, so she did the one thing she had been waiting to do. 

Quickly shooting closer, she snaked tired arms around his waist, dipping her tired head into the crook of his neck, properly cuddling into him. She was beginning to find a new kind of peace in listening to his heartbeat. 

Gray didn’t hesitate to wrap an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, letting his chin rest in her hair again. He could get used to her being so close to him.

Her light was finally in his grasp, and it felt warmer than he could have imagined. It felt… safe.

He sighed into her hair, letting out more tension than she saw on his face, lifting her just a bit so he could lay properly on the couch with her on top of him. The couch squished beneath them, but they didn’t care; she could torture the couch as much as it needed if it meant getting closer to him.

She snuggled closer into his neck, comfortably positioning her body over his.

But the position on the couch did strike her as familiar -- it was the same as on the plane from his story. As soon as she realized, she pushed herself up to glance at him. 

His eyes were already closed, though, a grin plastered to his stupid lips and his hands still tight on her torso.

“It's different.” He smiled. “Don’t worry. It’s so different.”

She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant, dipping back into the crook of his neck.

But, a moment later, he spoke again. “Carm?”

“Mmm?” His heartbeat was already trying to lull her to sleep.

“Can I wake up to you every morning, like this?”

“Mhmm.” She brushed a hand to his chest, drawing feather-light patterns on his heart, “I would love that.”

“Carm?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry.” His grip loosed, and he brought a hand to hold the one on his heart. “I’m sorry.”

She frowned, knowing this would come up again and again. But they’ll work through it. They’ll learn how to.

“I’m sorry too, Gray.”

“I love you.” He spoke into her hair.

“Love you more.” She purred into his chest.

“Oh?” Gray's voice teasingly rose. “Do you?”

“Like you never knew.”

He smiled, petting the hair that was sprawled on his chest. “I’ll love you even more, then.”

“I don't think you can.”

“Oh, yeah? I’ll love you till the moon dies.”

“Oh, no!” She purred in his chest, voice slurred like she was drunk, finally falling asleep with him. “Don’t kill the moon, Gray.”

He snorted at her, knowing she was asleep. He had no idea how she was still talking, but he adored it. “We’ll see. I’d shred the moon like cheese if it hurt you, and eat it up, just for you.”

She smiled into his chest, holding his hand just a little tighter in her sleep.

“Gray.” She mumbled in his chest. “I say it because I want you to know. I don't want you to ever forget. I love you.”  She mumbled, with her final waking breath, “I love you. ”

.

Home?  Gray thought. He was an orphan from a young age, he never had a steady place to call home-- he never had anywhere to return to, to feel safe. The closest he had was his family at VILE. 

He had no idea what he was missing, the void inside him was there for so long, and it was Carmen's light that started to warm the ice in his chest. 

Home? Was this what having a home felt like? Somewhere he could always feel safe? Welcomed? Forgiven? Loved? How could he have lived so long without this? 

He was never a religious man, but God, her embrace felt holier than heaven.

________

He was strong, sure-footed, and merciful above all else. He had adventure in his bones, fire in his gut, mercy in his tone, electricity in his words, and kindness in his heart. 

In this world of black and white, he was Gray, and I was blood-Red. 

His screams were begging my name, and there was no room for any other invasion of thought-- no room for the lies of the world; together, we could see through them. 

He was wise, bold, and bright enough to pull me from the shadows when I was already dead in the dark. When I got lost, I followed his light back to the warmth of his hold, and the silky call of my name on his lips.

He was my home, and I was his salvation.

________