Work Text:
It's a nice morning, if not a little chilly. The sun is just starting to rise, welcoming the day with its golden rays. The new light bleeds in through the windows, embracing the shadows that flee from it. An alarm clock erupts in its signature beeping from the back of the house, and stays on for almost a full minute before it's finally clicked off. Vanessa smiles slightly, amused, when she hears it stop.
She's already been up for the past hour, and she moves throughout the Schmidt family's kitchen, tidying up any mess she created while making breakfast. Said breakfast being scrambled eggs and bacon, nothing special.
Vanessa isn't exactly the best chef (especially in comparison with Mike, who has gained years of cooking expertise for his little sister), but she's not bad either. Besides, she's noticed how Mike seems to subconsciously relax a little every time she elects to cook for them. Not that he'd ever actually admit it.
Vanessa has only cooked for them three times, all of those instances being dinner, but she decided to switch it up this morning. Not like she had anything better to do after waking up at 6am, left trembling and gasping for breath in the wake of a nightmare that was all too familiar, the overpowering smell of iron and the phantom feeling of blood coated hands making it impossible to think straight..
The sound of metal snapping, the unbearable cold that settled around her heart, those eyes that shone with regret for at least a moment, the horrible horrible feeling of longing, and shame.
She needed something to do, something to chase away the unwanted memories, and so cooking it was. Food always made people happier, in her experience. She didn't care if her side protested.
It wasn't as bad as it used to be though, now that her injury didn't throw a fit every other little movement, and she could actually move around by herself.
Not that it doesn't still ache, it does, just…not as much, or not as painful…for the most part.
Realistically, Vanessa knows she probably shouldn't be up and moving as much as she is, but she can't help it. Restlessness permeates beneath her skin whenever she sits idle doing nothing substantial for too long, occasionally pushing her luck with her injury while attempting to rid herself of the horrible feeling, healing be damned, to ease that restlessness of not doing something, of not being useful.
She needs to be useful.
The desperation rests heavy on her chest, tightening itself around her ribcage and dripping into her very lungs, tainting every breath, demanding any kind of solace.
"You're pathetic, you know that? If you actually want me to keep you around, you need to pull your weight. I won't let you sit around being useless, you understand me?"
She needs to be useful.
But her use has dried up since that night, the night where she finally disobeyed. She glances down at her side and bites back the urge to sneer at the hidden wound, dragging her narrowed eyes back to the tasks at hand. She placed dirty dishes in the sink, wiped down the counter, and moved in front of the cupboard reaching up to open it. She ignored the twinge of pain that the action rewarded.
"Vanessa?"
She pauses and glances over her shoulder at the sound of Mike's gruff, half asleep voice to see him standing in the hallway, eyes partially scrunched as they adjusted to the morning light. He's not dressed for work yet, he's still in his nightwear, and his charcoal hair is a tangled mess. She smiles warmly at the sight. He seems confused, or at least surprised.
"What are you doing up already? You should sit."
He walks a little closer, with arms crossed and a small frown on his face, and he doesn't bother hiding the way he inspects her side. Vanessa just rolls her eyes.
"Good morning to you too, Mike." She says with a huff, opening the cupboard and grabbing out three plates. Before she can even fully turn to the dining table, the plates are snatched out of her hands, and she can't help the look of exasperation that crosses her face.
Mike's right in front of her now, more awake than he was a few moments ago. "You should go sit," he repeats, "I'll get Abby, and I'll dish out the food. Which, thank you. But you need to rest."
"I'm fine Mike, I can't rest forever."
"It literally hasn't even been three weeks since you woke up," he reprimanded, "I brought you here so we could help you. Not the other way around. Now, sit."
Vanessa meets his steady gaze, falling into the growing conflicts of her mind. He doesn't make sense. She needs to help, she's nothing but a leech if she doesn't. That has been the one fact she has held onto her entire life. Everything is transactional, everything has a cost. And if you can pay the price, you survive.
That's not even mentioning that she still doesn't understand why she's even allowed in this house at all. She put them in danger, by not saying anything. If she had just been honest sooner, maybe things would have been better, but she hadn't been. She was almost complicit in their deaths, for fucks sake. And yet, he doesn’t seem to even care about that anymore. Mike has invited her to live here for the foreseeable future, until she's fully healed.
Hell, it's something he insisted on. No matter how many times Vanessa had denied the offer while still hospitalized, he would just shrug and ask again later, every hesitant "no" she gave he interpreted as a "maybe." The only reason she eventually gave in was because of Abby. The young girl had been absolutely elated at the idea of the older woman staying with them when Mike brought it up for the millionth time in the hospital, and so Vanessa had tentatively accepted at last.
Being honest, she fully expected to be kicked out the second she could walk without needing a chaperone. Never in a million years could she have guessed that Michael Schmidt would practically mother her to death.
It's not something she's used to.
Her thoughts have drifted a moment too long, it seems, as Vanessa sees Mike's face soften with concern, and she quickly sobers.
"Well, if I'm going to the table I might as well get the silverware." She challenges, breaking eye contact and turning away to grasp at the silverware drawer's handle when Mike hastily sets the plates down on the counter and places a firm hand on her shoulder, the sudden warmth halting her efforts, and turns her slightly back towards him.
"No, you will sit. Abby can set the table. Have you taken your medication yet?"
Vanessa felt the frustration building up in her, and she was so close to snapping at him, but the frustration melted away almost immediately when his grip tightened on her shoulder. He was getting even more worried, and the genuine care in his eyes was making her body buzz with emotions she didn't understand. She inhaled and then sighed, giving in.
"No, not yet."
"I'll get that for you then, now-"
"Yes, sit, I know."
Mike's frown deepens, but he releases her shoulder. Vanessa is caught off guard by her sudden disappointment at the lack of touch, an emotion she cannot name practically wails. She ignores it.
He backs away a little, looking like he has more to say, but seemingly decides against it. He throws her one last worried glance before slinking back into the hallway to wake up Abby.
Vanessa begrudgingly walked to the table, and as she went to sit down she was suddenly thankful the man hadn't stayed to make sure she stuck to her word, as a shock of pain shot through her side as she sat down as gingerly as possible. She grit her teeth and waited out the pain as it slowly dissipated, doing her best to stay connected to the world around her, taking in a deep breath when it was finally done.
A few minutes later she hears a pair of footsteps walking down the hallway, and looks over in time to see Abby round the corner with Mike only a few steps behind. Both of them were dressed for the day, Abby for school and Mike for work, making Vanessa suddenly realize that she pointedly was not. Not that she was going anywhere, but the sentiment still stands.
Before she could get embarrassed about it, Abby rushed over to the table with a grin so childish and gleeful it made Vanessa's heart surge.
"Thanks for making breakfast!"
Abby swung around the chair Vanessa was in to hug her uninjured side, and with a soft smile Vanessa wrapped her arm around Abby and returned the hug to the best of her ability.
"You're welcome kiddo, you sleep alright?"
"Mhm!" Abby nodded enthusiastically, leaning back from the hug and latching onto Vanessa's arm. The girl opened her mouth, presumably to ramble about her dreams or drawings, but was cut off by her brother.
"Hey Abs, could you come help with the silverware?" Mike called out, head turned away as he focused on putting the food on all their plates, something he started doing as some sort of practice for his job at the diner.
A flash of annoyance passes through Vanessa, she could have taken care of that, but she pushes the emotional intrusion away. Abby let go of her arm and gave Vanessa one last gentle squeeze before making her way to the kitchen. Soon enough she walks back over, lays out a fork and butter knife at each of their respective spots, and seats herself at the table.
Mike walks over to them, balancing all three plates in his arms, and places them down at the table managing to not spill anything. Abby gives an enthusiastic "thank you!", and Vanessa offers a quiet but genuine "nice job." A small smile flickers across his features for a moment, but it leaves just as fast as he seems to remember something and walks back into the kitchen.
Abby is already digging into her food, but Vanessa hesitates. Mike returns with a glass of water and a little plastic cup of sorts that she knows holds her medication. He places them in front of her, before finally sitting down and picking up his fork.
Vanessa nods his way in appreciation, swiftly taking the pills, relieved that the less than subtle ache in her side would soon subside for a few hours. She shifts in her seat to try and get a little more comfortable, wincing as pin-pricks of pain spread across her side. Stifling a sigh, she grabs her fork and looks between the siblings. Abby seems content, a small smile stuck on her face as her legs swing from underneath the table while she eats. Vanessa glances over at Mike now, but pauses, noticing belatedly that he's just…staring. At her.
She turns her attention to her food, grabbing her fork, and desperately tries to shove down a fluttery feeling that only increases the more she feels his eyes burning into her, and finally starts eating as well. They sit in a semi-comfortable silence for some time, content to eat at their own pace, considering that typically they would have breakfast a little later in the morning. Vanessa can't help but feel a little smug as she sees Mike relaxing into his chair in her peripheral vision. He can complain all he wants, her use was proven.
Well, as smug as she can be anyways, considering that he still hasn't stopped fucking staring at her. At least before Vanessa could assume he was just zoned out, but now it looks as if he's almost examining her. She's just barely able to see the way his tired eyes travel across her body. The sudden attention was almost overwhelming. Every fiber of her being feels like she's on fire.
Vanessa's not that underdressed is she? She's wearing regular old clothes, not even pajamas technically, just an old long-sleeve shirt and old sweatpants. And she knows damn well she remembered to put on a bra, you'd find her hard-pressed to not remember the strain of it due to her injury. She even put her hair up this morning, due to her making breakfast. It was tied back in a loose, messy bun. Nowhere near as tight as it would be if she was on the job.
Vanessa was in the middle of deciphering whether or not Mike was actually aware of his staring, when Abby placed her fork down on her now empty plate.
"I'm done!" She yelled out, startling Mike out of his stupor as he finally tore his gaze away from Vanessa. He blinked a few times, mentally returning to the dining table from wherever he had been previously.
"Alright," his voice is subdued, and awkward, "Go on and put your dishes in the sink and get your backpack, we'll leave here shortly."
Vanessa stares down at her plate, nearly done with her own food, as Mike gets up to follow Abby. They both place their dishes in the sink, then go to grab their respective backpacks. They reappear quickly, and throw on their jackets.
"Bye Vanessa!" Abby calls, despite only being a few feet away, and gives her an enthusiastic wave. Vanessa returns the wave, though not quite as energetic.
"Bye Abby, have fun at school! And good luck at work, Mike."
He barely acknowledges her words with a huff, and opens the front door swiftly, ushering Abby out muttering something too quiet for Vanessa to hear. He keeps his eyes locked outside, and doesn't spare her a glance as he exits and shuts the door.
Vanessa feels the air shift around her, and she frowns, logically she knows Mike was just embarrassed, but…the way he refused to look her way. It was…it..
Her father stood in the doorway, throwing on his coat, she could see the keys to Freddy's in his hand.
"Why are you going out now? It's late."
He doesn't respond.
"Dad?"
She flinched as a scowl adorned his face, but he still didn't look her way.
The door swings open, and slams behind him as she stands there. She should have taken out the trash.
It stings.
She's trembling, she realizes. There's food still left uneaten on her plate. It makes her sick just looking at it. But she has to eat. She can't be wasteful. She can't be. She needs to be grateful.
She needs to be. She needs to be.
Hastily, she eats. Her stomach turned angrily, nausea swirled around her, and burning heat swam in her veins. This heat wasn't like before, not like the warm touches and the shining spotlight, this was something boiling. Something twisted and angry.
She needs it gone. She needs to make it right.
She nearly cries in relief when all her food is finally eaten. She gets up, grabbing her plate and silverware and placing it in the sink. The sight of all the dirty dishes has her gripping the edge of the counter.
No. No. No. She can't leave this mess here. She has to clean up. She needs to keep everything clean.
Vanessa is barely present as she starts the process, she fills the sink with water, grabs the soap and a rag, and gets to work. She gets lost in the motions, everything around her feeling miles away yet all too close.
Soap, scrub, rinse, dry.
She doesn't know why he's mad, but he is, and she needs to fix it.
Soap, scrub, rinse, dry.
Wait, he wasn't mad, was he?
Soap, scrub, rinse, dry.
No. No, he wasn't. Why did she think he was?
Soap, scrub, rinse, ouch.
Ouch?
Slowly the world around her grew clearer, and she blinked rapidly. She glanced down at her hand, her body was still trembling, and she nearly whined seeing crimson liquid spilling out of her palm, a knife gripped tightly between her fingers.
Her hand pressed against her side as she dropped to her knees, as eyes filled with fading regret leave her. It was still there. The knife was..if she could just…
She gasped as she tugged it out, the adrenaline pulsing throughout her body being the only thing stopping her from screaming.
If she could only get close enough. If she could..it was getting darker, and spots of black invaded her vision. She collapsed, gripping the knife in her hand, but everything was fading.
If she could just-
Vanessa drops the knife in the sink, the loud clatter breaking through to her, snapping her back to where she stands. She stares down at it, taking in shuddering breaths. Her heart was racing, she was still shaking.
She needs to clean up.
She swallows harshly, her throat now unbearably dry, and takes a few stumbling steps backwards. Numbly, she turns and makes her way to the bathroom, she grabs out the first-aid.
Vanessa stills, looking at herself in the mirror. Twin tear-tracks stain her skin. She brings a hand up to her face, lightly brushing against the tracks, flinching when a drop of something warm drips down her face. She looks at the reflection with horror, realizing she was using her injured hand, the blood now infecting her senses with its distinctive scent.
She needs to clean, she needs to clean now.
She spins to the shower, frantically turning it on, and has enough of her mind to shove the door closed. She rips off her clothes and tugs the hair tie out of her hair, faintly thankful for the medication, and practically jumps in. The water is cold when it hits her skin, but she doesn't care. She needs to be clean.
Her hand screams in protest as she struggles her way through shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, but she can shove the pain away, it's nothing in comparison to what she's been experiencing lately. Nothing more than a single raindrop falling into the ocean.
As she stands under the water, rinsing off what was left of the soap, its repetitive pressure against her is suddenly grounding. Her brain is catching up again, and she's able to get a better handle over her breathing. Her hand is still bleeding, she realizes. That's not..why did she leave it uncovered? Shit.
Vanessa shuts the water off, and steps out the shower, shivering as the autumn air closes in around her. She grits her teeth, noticing that she didn't have enough damn foresight to grab a towel, and she opens the bathroom cupboard and sighs in relief seeing there were actually a few in there.
After grabbing one she dried herself off, and wrapped the towel around herself. She didn't have the foresight to grab clothing either, she thought bitterly.
Vanessa shook her head, and walked back to the bathroom sink, actually opening the first-aid kit this time. It didn't take long for her to disinfect her wound and wrap it, thankfully it wasn't even deep. It would heal quickly. For that, she was grateful.
Once she was done, she nervously opened the door, rushing over to the living room to grab her bag and brought it to the bathroom, closing the door again. She put on a random pair of sweatpants and a comfortable sweater, grabbing her hairbrush and brushing through her soaked hair in order to avoid any nasty tangles.
Finally, after putting the first-aid kit away and returning her bag to the end of the couch, she walked back to the kitchen, grimacing at the sight of the slightly bloody knife that still sat in the sink. At least it had been the last thing she needed to clean, so no other dishes had been tainted. She rinsed the knife off, going through the process again, and shoved it back into the knife block after drying it.
There. Now, she's done. She glances at the clock. It hasn't even been an hour since Mike and Abby had left. She frowns, suddenly all too aware of how ridiculous she had behaved.
She needs to do something..but..what? She doesn't have orders anymore. There's really nothing..she, she could sit? That's what Mike had asked of her, after all. She walked to the living room, which was a mess of blankets and papers after playing with Abby last night. Surely her order wasn't just sitting?
She blinked.
That hadn't been…it wasn't an order, but..why did she need orders? She didn't, she can do whatever she wants now, she doesn't need to do anything. Right?
..no, no.
She needs to be useful.
It's all she has left.
Vanessa inhales sharply, and looks around the living room. She looks at the mess. She helped create it, she should clean it. She needs to. She needs to be useful. She needs it.
She grabbed at the blankets, starting to carefully fold them, but it was getting increasingly more and more difficult as her hands shook and shook. The fresh slice on her hand stings underneath it's bandage. She shakes her head. She needs to clean, she needs to.
For him.
There's regret in his eyes. He regrets it. He regrets it.
She needs to be useful, she needs to help, she needs to..because…because..
Because he won't ever be proud of her now.
A strangled sob escapes her lips, she feels her knees buckle, and within a moment she's on the floor with her back pressed up against the couch. She pulls her knees to her chest, her shaking only increasing as she gasps through her tears. She brings her hands up to her hair, digging her fingers into the damp strands. The sound of her labored breathing is the only thing audible to her, and the world is fading away again. She digs her fingernails in deeper, desperately trying to feel. In her panic, she doesn't hear the sound of the front door swing open and close. Nor does she hear her name, or the burst of footsteps that are getting nearer.
What she does notice though, is the sudden warmth that grasps her hands, and she feels rough fingers pry her hands so terribly gently out of her skull, pulling them down in front of her and not letting go. She whines, and opens her eyes, she doesn't remember closing them.
Her vision is blurry, but she recognizes the face in front of her. Recognizes that worried look, recognizes his charcoal hair that's still in tangles. Her heart keens, and so does she. She drops her head down, closing her eyes again, but her ears betray her.
"Hey, hey- it's okay, you're okay, please be okay- just, look at me, okay? I'm here, you're alright."
She squeezes Mike's hands with her own, his words echoing in her mind. He squeezed back, and another sob tumbled out.
"It's okay, take your time, alright? Get it out, it's okay."
Blearily, she opens her eyes and lifts her head back up, meeting his gaze. She's rewarded with a relieved smile. Her chest rattles and heaves as she's unable to get a grip on her own breathing.
"Hey, there you are, there's those beautiful eyes."
His voice is so, so warm. It feels like she's basking in the goddamn sun.
She blinks rapidly in attempts of chasing the tears out of her eyes, and takes in a deep trembling breath, trying to calm herself down. She sees Mike's eyes flick down to her newly-bandaged hand, his brow furrowing, his eyes still worried, and he looks back at her with a tilted head.
"Vanessa..what happened?"
She whines again, shaking her head hazily.
"Vanessa…I don't want to push you, but I can't help you if I don't know what happened."
He sounds so fucking sad now. She doesn't understand. She doesn't understand. He shouldn't-
"You shouldn't have to help."
The words are quiet, barely audible. And it takes a second for Vanessa to realize they're hers. Mike's grip tightens again, and she knows he heard her too. She sees his face twist, and she drops her head back down. Another pitiful cry escapes against her will.
"Vanessa…"
God. Fuck. He sounds even sadder now.
"...you're right, I don't have to do anything. I'm here because I want to help you. I care about you, okay? Please, let me help." He's practically begging her, his grip unrelenting on her hands.
She's vaguely aware of him putting less pressure on her bandaged hand.
"It's..not fair..to you." She whispers, stumbling through the words as her own shaky gasps for breath interrupt her.
He closes his eyes and shakes his head slightly, and when he opens them he's looking right at her again.
"Nothing is really..fair…anymore…but you know what really wouldn't be fair? Me not trying to help after everything you've been through. Please, I'm here to help, and I won't judge you. I promise."
His words sang with such sincerity, a sound so genuine and promising to her heart that another sob escaped her, causing him to panic.
"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to! I'd never force you, take your time, I'm not going-"
"I miss him."
Mike pauses, blinking in slow confusion, before the painful truth of her confession dawns on him. Something passes through his face that she can't comprehend.
"I- I know I shouldn't, I shouldn't. He was awful, he was a monster. He was so bad. But…he..I just.."
Mike is silent, and Vanessa isn't sure if their hands are still being held together by him, or by her. She shudders, but she can't stop the words from flowing out now that she's broken the dam.
"I just wanted him to see me. I wanted him to care. And I won't.." another sob wracked her body, and she fought for control over her breathing as it quickened again, "I won't ever get that."
Something about saying the words makes them so much more real, and she's trembling harder. Sobs are coming quicker, and her mind is fading again. She tries to pull away from Mike, painfully aware of his continued silence, she's pressing herself impossibly closer to the couch when he releases her hands. She can't help but whine again at the lack of contact, and her shaking is getting worse.
She should have known better, she should've kept her damn mouth-
Warmth envelops her suddenly. Arms are wrapped around her, pulling her away from the couch and closer to his body. She's caught completely off guard, easily giving in to his grasp. She collapsed into him, taking in gasping breaths, she could feel his hand rubbing circles into her back.
He's so warm.
Vanessa doesn't know how long they sit like that, with her sprawled in Mike's lap, sobbing into the crook of his neck, his hands traveling across her back as he soothes her. As her breathing slowly starts to even out, she can't help but wish for this moment to never end.
Eventually, she can breathe without stuttering, and her tears are finally starting to dry. Mike must know she's calmed down by now, but he doesn't let her go. If anything, he's holding her tighter.
If she wasn't so exhausted, she would've cried again at the thought of him caring so much. Instead she sighs, relaxing further into his hold, and lets her head rest on his collarbone. It's a little awkward, considering she is slightly taller than him, but she can't find it in herself to care. This was more than she could ever ask for.
Time passes slowly, and when the silence gets a little too long, he talks.
"It's not wrong of you to feel that way…you know? Sure he was a…bad guy, but he was still your family. And you were a kid. You..you deserved a good dad," he stalls, and then he's leaning back to look down at her. He shifts slightly, cupping her face between his hands, "You deserve to be happy, Vanessa. I'm so, so sorry he took that from you."
Vanessa frowns, then hums a little. Her face is warm. She glances away, then looks back, and speaks in a hushed tone.
"I am…I am happy...with you, and Abby. And I….I don't want to ruin that."
Somehow, this confession scares her more than the last.
Mike stares at her wide-eyed, something so eagerly hopeful mixed in with a myriad of emotions she's too tired to figure out, and then he's wrapping his arms around her again, tighter than before.
Relief courses through Vanessa, and she returns the hug, as tight as her shaky limbs will allow.
"You could never ruin that, okay? Abby loves you…I love you. We'll always be here for you. No matter what."
His words don't even feel real. She leans back from the hug, he lets go of her in a panic, and now that she can see his face she can see it's creased with nerves. She's confused for a moment, frustrated even, that she doesn't understand. Then it comes to her.
"I love you."
Did…?
Did he mean…?
Suddenly the fluttery feeling is back in full force, along with the buzzing, and she feels herself blushing harshly. She realizes she's been quiet too long as he looks away from her with a solemn frown.
She…she could be wrong, but…
Vanessa lifts her uninjured hand up to his chin, and tilts his face back towards her, confusion clouding his eyes as she does so. That little bit of hope is back though, and with a pounding heart she leans in quickly, closing her eyes, and kisses him gently.
She hears and feels as he breathes in sharply, and she starts to pull away, but then he's chasing her and his arms are pulling her closer once again. He's almost desperate in his movements, acting as if she would disappear at any given moment. Vanessa moves her uninjured hand to the back of his neck, in a half-hearted attempt to calm him down, but it only riles him up more. She's not complaining.
The buzzing has completely taken over her at this point, but she doesn't care, unrestrained bliss pours out of her very being. She is cared for, she is wanted.
She is loved.
They pull away after another few moments, both left panting for breath, and Vanessa rests her head on his collarbone again. Mike's arms are still wrapped firmly around her, and she shifts in his grip to try and fend off the stiffness of sitting in the same position for so long, but let out a startled gasp as she managed to strain her side. She grabbed at the wound as it pulsed, and she heard Mike let out a hiss of air.
"Shit- hold on, we should probably get off the floor, I should've thought about that, I'm sorry- here, let me-"
And then he's helping her to her feet, the concern is back, barely visible behind his flushed features, and Vanessa can't find it in herself to be annoyed anymore. She knows it's real.
He maneuvers them both to the couch, and she slumps down again, content to press into Mike's side as he sits down as well. She's just able to see his face from her new position, and her heart is impossibly warmer as his soft smile engraves it's way into her mind. She never wants to forget it.
"I love you too." She murmurs, voice soft, and grins as she sees his face heat up even more. He doesn't respond, but he does grab onto her hand. It's the one with the bandage, and he's frowning again.
She huffs, and nudges his shoulder, which gains her an incredulous look. It's a silent argument.
"What the fuck happened"?
"Doesn't matter, just stay close to me."
Vanessa likes to think she's winning.
He's clearly about to ask verbally though, so she cuts him off.
"How come you're home, by the way? Is everything okay?"
Mike sighed, clearly aware of the subject diversion. "The diner messed up the scheduling or something, had to send someone home. I volunteered."
Vanessa's confusion must've been apparent on her face, as he continued.
"I know I need more hours, but I just- well for starters, I did just get my first paycheck yesterday, so we're okay for the moment, and I…felt bad, for not properly saying bye to you this morning." He pauses when he sees her wince, still frowning, "I thought you might not have wanted to see me right away so I went grocery shopping after leaving the diner. I'm sorry."
Vanessa leans further into him, and hums. "You're okay, you couldn't have known, and….wait. Groceries?"
Mike brought a hand to scratch at the back of his neck sheepishly. "They're by the door right now, they'll be fine."
Vanessa moved to sit up, but was stopped by Mike as he pulled her back in. She allowed the manhandling easily, but gave him an affronted look nonetheless. He's still holding her hand, and he looks back at it.
"Tell me what happened, and I'll put them away."
"We'll put them away."
"Absolutely not."
"Absolutely yes!"
"Vanessa."
"Mike."
"You," he says, glaring half-heartedly at her, "Will be resting. You need to heal, Vanessa, not burn yourself out trying to clean up after me and Abby."
She frowns at the words, not liking how he's already hit the nail on the head without her even telling him what happened yet. He raises an eyebrow at her.
"So…" He pushes, staring at her expectantly.
Vanessa sighs aggressively, "I…I was cleaning the dishes and was…zoned out, for lack of a better term. I ended up cutting my hand by accident." She shrugs a little, hoping Mike will leave it there.
"Zoned out?"
Yeah, it was wishful thinking.
"Dunno. I wasn't really present, in my mind, everything was distant." She admits.
"So…it's like, you're..closing your eyes but in your mind?"
"Mike."
"...yeah?"
"I love you, but you're not even close." Vanessa laughs, and Mike flushes slightly. Grumbling and looking away.
"I appreciate you though." She says sweetly, it's completely genuine. He only reddens more, and glares at her. She just laughs again. "Come on now, grocery time, don't want anything going bad."
Mike rolls his eyes, "You are determined to get out of this aren't you?" He waits for a response, but she just shrugs and he sighs.
"What did it feel like, and do you know why it happened?" Mike presses once more.
Vanessa glances away, to his dismay, but her contemplative look keeps him quiet. She speaks after a minute or so, voice hushed.
"It.. I didn't…I didn't feel real. I guess. I felt far away, and I wasn't really aware."
Mike frowned. "And…do you know why?"
Vanessa shook her head. "I don't. I mean, I could guess, but I don't know for sure."
"And why were you cleaning the dishes?"
"I needed to."
The words are out before she can stop them, and she freezes.
"Vanessa…"
His tone is sad again, and she hates that.
"Why did you need to?"
She turns away.
"Vanessa."
His voice is more urgent now, and she can't, she can't just ignore him. So she turns back, certainly lacking enthusiasm, but she does. She doesn't look him in the eyes though.
"What do you mean?" He pleads, and she shrinks in on herself.
"I just…I need to, it's-" Frustration is building again, and she squirms in her seat, finally spitting out, "If I'm not useful then I'm nothing."
It's quiet for a moment, and Vanessa gathers the courage to look up at Mike. Big mistake. He's looking at her with such an intense crestfallen expression and it makes her want to cry again.
"That's something he taught you, isn't it?" His voice is rough, she's not sure if it's from sadness or anger.
"I guess." She whispers.
"Well he's wrong." Mike growls suddenly, the ferocity of it catching her off guard and causing her to flinch harshly. He backpedals almost instantly, his anger fading and he's leaning forward and his arms are holding her tight again. "Sorry- I'm sorry. I just, I hate that you had to deal with someone like him. You deserve so, so much better."
She just hums, having no idea how to respond, she can barely even process the words.
"I don't know how things were for you, and I probably never fully will. And that's okay, I don't need to know unless you want me to." Mike has started combing his fingers through her hair, which is still slightly damp. She resists a pleasant shudder at the relaxing feeling.
"What I do know, though, is that you'll never have to..have to be useful-" He spits the word out like it's bitten his tongue, and inhales deeply to calm himself. "You…you are enough all on your own, and I hope you'll see that too someday."
Vanessa feels tears forming in the corners of her eyes, and her breath hitches. She shoves her face into his chest attempting to hide from her own emotion.
"I thought I was done crying, asshole." She hisses, with no real heat behind the words. Mike has the audacity to chuckle at her. She hates how much she loves the sound. She pulls away slightly, just to rub at her eyes, and then his hands are holding her face again. She's only faintly registering the movement when she feels him press a soft kiss to her forehead, a swirling storm of fuzziness invades her body once more, and Vanessa is learning to embrace it.
"My apology, for making you cry." Mike says almost teasingly, and while he seems confident, the way his eyes scan across her face nervously says otherwise.
"Well…if that's how you apologize, I'd like an apology for being your personal art exhibit this morning." She drawls, trying to sound annoyed but ultimately failing as her amusement bled through.
He makes a startled sound at that, his face flushing darker than it had all day, and Vanessa doesn't even try to hold back her laughter.
"I- I wasn't intentionally meaning to- I was tired, and- it's not that funny!"
It's very funny, in Vanessa's opinion anyway. Mike just groans, but can't keep a smile off his face. She's too focused on trying to settle down to see him bite his lip anxiously.
"...Well, I certainly can't help looking at someone so pretty, now can I?"
The words don't register immediately, but when they do, Vanessa's laughter ceases as air rushes into her lungs out of shock, and her mouth drops open. She stares at him, completely and utterly dumbfounded. If the smug grin on his face says anything, paired with how hot her face is, she knows she's just as red as he is now.
Mike is leaning towards her once more, and she closes her eyes as he kisses her again, on the lips this time. It's short and sweet, and they share a soft smile after pulling away.
Mike jostles their position, and before Vanessa can protest he's on his feet, wrapping a blanket around her as if that would magically trap her on the couch.
"I'm gonna go put the groceries away now, you will stay here and rest, I'll be right back." He grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table and handed it to her. "Put something on in the meantime."
Vanessa sighed dramatically, making her displeasure clear, but didn't try putting up a fight. She grabbed the remote from him. "Fiiiine."
He gave her a disbelieving look, but relented, and walked off towards the front door. She could easily see him still, but she decides to turn her attention to the TV instead, turning it on. She mindlessly circles throughout the channels, more stuck on the day's events so far. She glances at the clock, it's only 9:30am.
This has probably been one of the longest mornings of her life, but she wouldn't trade it for anything. She's smiling so hard that it hurts, as she replays everything over and over again in her mind, desperate to hold onto even the smallest of details.
Vanessa finally finds a show she's at least a little familiar with, and lets it play. She's not really truly paying attention to it though. She hears Mike open the fridge, and glances over. He doesn't notice, seemingly stuck in his own thoughts as well.
Her eyes follow his movements across the kitchen, content to just get lost in his rhythm. It's not something she would have allowed herself before, but after today she's pretty sure it's something she can get away with now.
It doesn't take long for Mike to finish putting everything away, and soon enough he's turning back towards the living room, pausing as his eyes meet hers.
Vanessa smiles at him, and he raises his eyebrows at her as he walks over and settles himself back onto the couch.
"I gave you the remote so you could watch the TV you know, not me." He informs, failing to suppress the happy lilt to his words.
"Hmmm, you're more interesting."
"So you can't be an art exhibit but I can be? How's that fair?" He's amused, pulling her into his side.
"I think it's very fair." She says matter-of-factly, swinging her legs up off the floor and fully onto the couch, and she adjusts herself to get more comfortable.
Mike snorts at that, and easily accommodates Vanessa's new positioning, letting her head fall into his lap as he brings a hand to her hair again.
They don't say anything more, both content with things as they are, idly watching the TV. Vanessa sighs softly, her eyes getting heavier and heavier as time moves on. His hand is still caressing her hair, and it's not helping her stay awake. She eventually lets her eyes close completely, drifting away to the sound of staticky voices and his even breathing.
This is something she could get used to.