Chapter Text
Diana had never expected to be the one to find Neal, if he was, indeed, alive. And technically, she hadn't. The con had gone by many names, and she was guessing Neal wasn't the right one anymore.
Diana stood across from her supposedly dead friend sitting at a hotel bar in Reykjavik.
Diana walked over, and leaned on the bar. The woman beside Diana turned her head, giving a friendly, charming smile. Then it suddenly dropped, as recognition, and then panic entered the blue eyes.
"So," said Diana, "before we go any further, what do I call you?"
She swallowed and looked away. Then finally bit her lip and looked back at Diana, "Sonia."
Diana tilted her head a little, "okay. Is that your name, or an alias?"
The other woman shrugged, "it's the first name of a cool French painter I admire. Sonia Delaunay…I don't necessarily…know my name yet?"
Diana shrugged, "fair enough. So, is this why you faked your death?"
Sonia shook her head, and flagged down the bartender. She ordered a pear cocktail. Her voice was light and musical, with deeper undertones. She looked at Diana, "do you want something? I feel like we could both probably use a drink for this conversation."
Diana nodded, "Woodford on the rocks."
The bartender left, and came back shortly with the drinks. Sonia stared into hers, stirring it with the little bamboo skewer.
"Peter and Elizabeth had a baby, I was in Paris. It should have been a happy ending. But I just wasn't happy. I had to face something I could never run far enough to escape…"
Diana's heart squeezed a bit. She had heard this story before, from other friends.
"Anyway, I started transitioning. Some people responded badly, I have just been bouncing around since then."
Diana hooked her arm around Sonia's shoulders, "well, the bad news is, you've been caught. The good news is your timing. Jones called me back from visiting my dad to help, I am flying to New York tomorrow. There's a huge leak from a major security firm. Every bank using them across the globe is at risk. If you can help, that might bring some good will."
Sonia slowly relaxed into Diana's hug, "you're not upset?"
"I'm a little ticked off that you made me cry at your funeral, but about this? No, not at all. You deserve to be who you are."
The other woman nodded, relieved.
"Why don't you come with me to my hotel room, and we can call Jones. I know he will be happy to hear you're alive, if nothing else.
Diana put down money for her drink and tip, Sonia did the same. Diana got off her bar stool. She turned to wait for Sonia. She took a moment to do so. She didn't seem to be stalling, though.
She slowly eased to stand, hesitant. Then she reached to the other side of the stool and picked up a forearm crutch. It was sleek black, but still very much a crutch.
"What happened?"
"I got outed to the wrong people. It's why I left Paris."
Diana wrapped her arm around Sonia's, and squeezed supportively.
It was clearly painful for Sonia to stand, so Diana didn't waste any time in leading her out of the bar and to the elevators.
Diana was picking up on little winces and adjustments, as they waited, entered the elevator, and rode up. Diana tightened her grip on Sonia, her protective instincts for other women and other queer people kicking in. She made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat.
"What?" asked Sonia, defensively.
Diana looked at her, "I'm just upset that happened to you. I'm upset you're hurt."
Sonia's face cleared a little, "oh."
They got to Diana's hotel room, and Diana let go of Sonia to open the door, then they both went inside. Diana got her laptop off the bedside table, and brought it to the sofa and coffee table.
Sonia stood nearby, but didn't sit down. Diana looked up. Anxiety was clear on Sonia's face.
Diana got up and went to her, “it's gonna be okay. I'm sure you can help with this, and Jones would rather see you back at the FBI than in prison."
"Yeah, but the stakes if I do go back to prison are…higher now."
Diana paused. She looked at Sonia. She looked at her laptop.
"What if I call him with a hypothetical? Say I think maybe I found you, I am going to follow up? See what he says?"
Sonai raised an eyebrow, "you're going to lie to him?"
Diana shrugged, "I don't want to put you at risk.”
Sonia finally relented, "make sure you still use Neal, okay?"
Diana called Jones on video, and sat there watching it ring. He picked up after a minute, "hmm, Diana?"
"Hey. So…I think I might have a lead on Neal.”
“Great,” said Jones, sounding rushed and distracted, “can he help with this? Is there a deal here?”
“I think so.”
“Great,” repeated Jones, looking over the camera as someone dropped paperwork on his desk, “figure it out, call me back.”
“Hey, one other thing though,” said Diana quickly.
“Yeah?”
“She’s a she now. Sonia.”
“Oh,” Jones actually did pause and give his full attention to the call then, “like, seriously, not for an alias?”
Diana nodded.
“Sonia, you said? Huh. Cool. Okay, well, anyway, call me back.”
Jones ended the call.
The plane landed, the seatbelt light went off. People started getting up and gathering their bags. Eventually the aisle started clearing out. Diana got up, and scooted to the edge of the row. She got up when there was a gap in people, and got her bag down. She looked at Sonia.
The other woman was still seated, head down, both hands on her left hip. Diana knelt on the seat, reached over, put her hand on Sonia’s arm.
Sonia looked at her, pain in her blue eyes, “sorry, coming.”
Diana shook her head, “you don’t have to apologize. Take your time. Let’s just wait until people clear out.”
Sonia nodded. Diana sat down beside her, looking her over. She was tired, and in pain, her eyes were creased at the corners. She was anxious, watching people disembark closely, studying every person.
Diana put her hand on Sonia’s arm. The younger woman looked at her, brown curly hair just long enough it skirted her shoulders as she turned her head.
“Hey. You're gonna be okay. You're home. People have your back here."
Sonia slowly nodded, and she and Diana scooted out into the aisle. Sonia stood up, and leaned on the seat back of the row in front of them, while she got her bag down. She bent down to pull the handle up, gasped, and suddenly went down onto one knee.
Diana crouched beside her in the empty aisle, hands on her back. Sonia's shirt was damp at her spine, and her muscles were tense under Diana's palm.
"I'm okay," said Sonia, tightly, "just give me a second."
Diana patted Sonia's back, and got up. She righted Sonia's bag. A flight attendant came up to them, concerned.
"We're okay," said Diana, "she's just sore."
"Okay. Let us know if you need anything."
"Thanks."
The flight attendant left. Diana crouched beside Sonia in the aisle, put her hand on Sonia's shoulder, "hey. Do you think you can sit back in the seat, would that help?"
"I'm okay," said Sonia softly, and started to get up.
Diana helped her, and grabbed the crutch from where it was tucked between the seat and the wall of the plane. Sonia took it gratefully.
They shuffled their way down the aisle after the few other stragglers. They made it off the plane, and into the carpeted tunnel. Sonia was having a hard time as they went uphill, and finally she stopped and leaned against the wall, panting, head down.
Diana rubbed Sonia's arm, "hey, there's no rush. Take a rest."
Sonia nodded, and sat down on the floor, hissing in pain as she did. Diana crouched beside her. Sonia was sweating, and pale, and she held her hand clenched in a fist at her hip. Diana hated that Sonia was in so much pain.
"I'm okay," said Sonia tightly, picking up on Diana's growing concern, "it will loosen up in a bit."
"Right," said Diana, "but it's obviously really bad right now. You don't have to be macho anymore, remember?"
Sonia finally met Diana's eyes, her blue ones brimming with unshed tears of pain and distress. Diana hugged her tightly, and rubbed the other woman's back. Sonia relaxed a tiny bit in Diana's arms, letting out a soft sigh into Diana's neck.
Diana was guessing that Sonia hadn't had a lot of support since she had disappeared, from the way she was responding to basic acts of friendship.
Well, that had ended the moment Diana stepped into the hotel bar.
Eventually Sonia got back up, and they continued out of the boarding hallway. Diana used the bathroom while Sonia waited with the bags. She washed her hands and came out, "okay, your turn if you need it."
Sonia hesitated, "I can wait. There's single person bathrooms at the FBI."
Diana looked at the bathroom, looked at Sonia, "do you want me to go in with you?"
Sonia blushed a little in shame. Diana took Sonia's right elbow, and kindly steered her into the bathroom. Diana stood by the sinks with both their bags. Sonia eventually emerged from the stall and stood beside Diana to wash her hands. Sonia rushed through it and avoided meeting anyone else's eyes.
Sonia looked nervous as they exited the bathroom, keeping her head down, moving quickly even though it clearly hurt her. She only relaxed when they were a ways away from the door.
Diana switched which side she was holding her rolling suitcase on, so she could put her arm around Sonia's shoulders.
Suddenly Diana heard a familiar voice in the rush of people, “I think their flight landed half an hour ago.”
She turned, and managed to pick out Peter, and Elizabeth. Elizabeth had a toddler on her hip, Peter was pulling both their bags. Diana grinned, and steered Sonia in that direction.
“What is it?” asked Sonia, but she barely had the question out before she saw. She froze, abject terror on her face.
Diana frowned, “it’s gonna be okay. He already knows, remember?”
“Yeah, but,” said Sonia, shakily, “I wasn’t ready, I don’t…if it doesn’t go–”
Peter spotted them. He let go of the bags in the middle of the crowd to push through and wrap Sonia into a tight hug, speaking muffled in her neck, “I missed you so much. I am so sorry, I couldn’t protect you—”
Sonia hugged Peter back, and closed her eyes. For the first time since Diana had found Sonia at the bar, the other woman actually relaxed.