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“I never asked for that,” she snaps and he knows he’s lost her.
“I know you didn’t,” he replies and it is sharp, it is a snap, and his hair is falling out of his ponytail and they are barely twenty five. “I know you fucking didn’t, Madeline, I’m not stupid.”
The unlike him is unspoken but they both hear it and her eyes go dark, storm-cloud and she is striking even furious.
“Have you ever even considered that—”
“That what?” he demands, half spinning on his heel because if he looks at her for even a moment more he might do something he regrets as if any of this isn’t something he is already going to regret, as if this isn’t a moment he is going to spend the next twenty years rolling over in his head again and again and again. “That what, Maddie, that I want to spend the rest of our lives running after the both of you like a fucking lapdog? Is that what you want? You want me to sit and beg for scraps of your attention? Because that’s what it is like around you both! Neither of you even talk about your research to me anymore. I don’t know if it is because you’re scared of fucking up again—”
“I’m not scared, ” Maddie snaps back and he wants to laugh, wants to spit in the face of it but he doesn’t and he is trembling with it anyway.
“Then what, Maddie?” he asks, something his voice breaking and he is mortified by it. “Then what?”
She grabs him by the shirt, fisting the fabric and dragging him close. “It means we love you, you stupid, foolish, ridiculous man. It means that we don’t know how to tell you when we all know what people would say, when we know how much all of this means to you.” Her hand doesn’t shake, iron as always and Maddie is a small woman but has more spine than damn near anyone he knows and Vlad’s head isn’t working very well right now, he thinks. She smells of motor oil and sweat and chemicals, of laundry detergent and lit matches. She is perfect.
She also is lying.
“Don’t lie to me,” he croaks and it is a cruel joke, the cruelest, and while the both of them can be cruel, this isn’t their style. “Don’t lie to me Maddie, don’t do this. Don’t do this to me.”
“I’m not lying, ” she says, hoarse. “But fuck, Vlad, you’re not making this easy for us.”
“You don’t love me,” he says and he might be shaking now. “You can’t. This— this isn’t funny.”
“It’s not a joke, Vlad. I wouldn’t joke about that. Jack wouldn’t joke about that. You know us.”
“And I know that you both are better without me!” he says, voice breaking. “You’re both better off. You could be happy and you will be and you don’t need me. You don’t.”
“Maybe that isn’t yours to decide!” she says, hand tightening in his shirt once more. “Have you considered that, Vladimir?”
“Can’t something be?” he says, voice breaking.
“Why are you so—” she says, letting go and taking a step away, controlled breaths, control in her iron shoulders and Vlad wants to break something. Maybe a fist. He doesn’t know.
“Stubborn?” he asks, hoarse and barking, bitter.
“Stupid,” she says, a hiss. “You constantly make jokes about Jack being stupid as if he didn’t get into the same masters program as us, as if he isn’t keeping up just like anyone else, as if he doesn’t have the most incredible leaps of logic that even our professors don’t understand. You’re stupid and you’re insecure and I don’t know why I fucking love you!”
“Shut the fuck up,” he shouts and the beakers rattle as he slams his hand down on the table and he doesn’t know what did it— the ‘I love you’ or the insults or the goddamn praising of Jack fucking Fenton.
There is silence, silence, silence because this is new to her. He has been so very careful to keep his tantrums and fury and aching, endless self-hatred to himself or to simple, small things, meaningless and never targeted towards anyone that mattered.
“Or what, Vlad?” she asks and suddenly she is exhausted and he is ashamed.
“I can’t do this,” he says, just as quiet. “Maddie, I can’t do this.”
“You were in the hospital for months, Vlad,” she says, quietly. “We weren’t trying to abandon you or— or move on. You were in the hospital for months—”
“I know, I was there,” he cuts in even as she keeps speaking.
“—and things—”
“Amazing how the second I’m doing—
“—just happened.”
“—better, doing well for myself, you’re back and licking at my heels .”
“That’s not fair,” she says, sharp and tremulous. “Vlad, that’s not fair.”
“You know what’s not fair, Maddie?” he demands, incredulous. “The ghost portal we built blowing up in your face, literally, destroying your life! Spending months in the hospital with no one to visit you because fuck knows your parents couldn’t give a damn if you existed and the people you care about, your best friends, the ones who landed you in the mess not even visiting—”
“We tried! You told us to get—”
“Once! One time!”
“—to get out, Vlad! You told us to fuck off and—”
“I was upset, I was hurt, I felt like shit and you were hovering like—”
“—stay the fuck out of your life! We wanted to give you space!”
“—fucking nannies! Like you didn’t do this to me!”
“It was your portal too!” she shouts, voice shattering over it. “It was yours too and you always blame us like it couldn’t have been any of us!”
“Maybe it should have been!” he shouts and he doesn’t mean it. He just wants this to stop.
“So that’s how it is,” she says when the quiet gets too thick to breathe through. “Okay, Vlad. Okay.”
He thinks maybe the yelling was better.
“Maddie,” he starts, hoarse.
“Maybe it is best we take a break,” she says, gathering her coat. There’s a blizzard out, you know.
“Maddie,” he tries again, fingers tightening around the edge of the table, metal cold and hard and biting at his fingernails.
“Get your head on straight,” she says, quiet. “And maybe we can figure something out. But until then, I’m not doing this. It’s not good for any of the three of us. We do love you, Vlad, for some fucking reason. We’ll be there when you’re ready to try again.”
“Tell that to your fucking rings,” he says, hoarse and crackling and her fingers don’t go to the practical gold band around one finger.
She opens her mouth and then shuts it again. “Have a good night, Vlad,” she says, turning away.
“Maddie,” he says, one more time. “Maddie, please—”
The door snaps shut.