#(( I'M WIDE OPEN FOR BEING PELTED WITH TISSUE BOXES

[variantia]

BELLUM.   once again @anarchyhorde has made me write something incredibly angsty with my own two hands

COME HATE ME !!!

-

HURTS

God, it hurts.

When Elsa drifts back into consciousness, she’s staring at the bright white lights of a hospital room.

They’re fuzzy, just like her mind. It’s the familiar dizzying, floating, blocking feeling of heavy painkillers. A feeling like if she closed her eyes, she could easily just fall back asleep.

But… wait. She hasn’t been asleep, has she? If she were just asleep, she would be at home in bed. Instead she’s in the hospital, having apparently been sedated.

She rolls her head slightly to the side, and a familiar face slowly comes into view. “H… Hawks…?”

“— Elsa? Shit, thank God.” The winged hero looks down at her for a moment; try as he might to conceal any deeper feelings, concern is etched on his face, plain to her simply because she knows him so well. “Some good luck that you woke up while I’m here. How you feeling?”

“Like some jerk gave me a cookie and forgot to tell me there was pot in it,” she mumbles dryly, trying to push herself up a little. The bed’s reclined some already, but she just feels like she has to move. Her muscles are so stiff. “Think I’m coming out of it, though. Mostly I’m just sleepy. Was… was I in a coma…?”

Hawks sucks in a breath through his teeth, waving his hand in a so-so motion. “A little one.”

“How can you be in a little — aah!” A sharp cry cuts her off when she sits too far, her arm immediately pressed against her chest. “… Dammit. How many ribs did I break?”

“Just one, I think they said. But to be fair,” he hums, “it’s not like you broke ‘em. I, uh, I doubt it anyway. Watchwoman said she found you passed out and bleeding in an alley when you didn’t report back from your patrols.” He scratches at the back of his neck, frowning. “You… remember what happened or anything?”

A few memories come back. Like everything else right now, they’re kind of hazy, yet definitely unmistakable. “Yes… sort of. I… I think a villain attacked me.”

The only thing that keeps him from being too shocked is that it’s probably the answer he expected. Unfortunately, it’s the biggest occupational hazard they have as heroes. “Get a good look at the guy? … Or gal? Or, uh, y’know—”

One thing that doesn’t change is that when she raises her hand, the response is silence. “Not the best look, but I could probably identify him. I can’t remember what kind of Quirk he had. Just tell everyone that they’ll be looking for a short man with long red hair, probably in his 20s.”

“Gotcha.” If that’s what she has, that’s what they’ll work with, so he pulls out his phone to get messages going. “I’ll put it out to police and the other heroes who were in the area.”

Elsa is about to close her eyes again when a thought occurs to her. “Wait, wait, Hawks. What day is… how… long was I out?”

The weary look in his eyes makes it clear that he knows where she’s going with this. “’Bout a week.”

She groans and puts a hand over her face, making herself wince when she feels the IV line tugging at that hand. “Now that I’m awake, when can I leave?”

His wings shift, a noise that sounds so loud among the monitors beeping. And he sighs. “Let me get these texts sent. Then we’ll get the doctor and see if they can clear you for release anytime soon. Then I will take you to see Jin. But if you want my opinion—”

“I really don’t, kylling-engel.”

“— Okay, ice queen, I was gonna be nice and give you half an hour with him, but you just bumped yourself down to fifteen minutes. You need to take care of yourself before you worry about him.”

He doesn’t look at her, specifically because he knows he doesn’t want to see that crushed look on her face. “Easy for you to say. If I could flip a switch that turns my feelings off, I would. Taking care of myself and taking care of him aren’t mutually exclusive.”

His hand raises up in a placating, defensive gesture that very obviously means he’s going to drop the subject because he’s not in the mood to fight about it. It’s not a statement he agrees with, when it comes to Elsa, but he supposes she knows her own limits and ability to balance better than he does, and the stress of him arguing with her about it is something she doesn’t need right now. “If you say so. I’ll go find the doctor and we’ll see about getting you outta here.”

“… Thank you.” Before he puts his hand back down, she reaches to take it. A gentle squeeze that tells him she appreciates everything he’s doing for her. That she knows he’s just trying to look out for her. “You’re the best.”

Though he grins, it’s a tired sort of expression. He’s trying, at least. “Yeah, I know. Return the favor once in a while, wouldja?” he teases, and gives her hand a squeeze of his own before heading off into the hallway.

She takes a deep breath, relaxing back against her pillows, and stares up at the lights.

Hang on, Jin. I’ll be back soon.

-

“She’s not coming. Would you shut — yes, she is. She’s… she’s just running late. That’s it. She got… tied up with work. No, she doesn’t want to come anymore. No… she’s gonna be here. Why would she just stop coming all of a sudden? Because she got sick of pretending she likes me! Damn hero thinks she can just switch…! Shut up, shut up! She’s coming! She wouldn’t just stop coming! I’m an idiot! To think I actually wanted to trust her again, and she hasn’t been here in a FUCKING WEEK!”

If any of the guards are close enough to hear Jin arguing with himself, or watching the video feed of his room, they probably think he’s nuts.

But more than anything, he’s frustrated and hurt. He’s spent a couple of months now unsure about whether he can actually trust Elsa again. Even though he wants to, this is the millionth time he’s been stabbed in the back and he’s just tired of it. There’s that little spark that tells him he can trust her, he probably should trust her, because she’s stuck around. If all she wanted was to turn him in, she would have done it and moved on with her life and stopped bothering with him. Right?

She didn’t. She’s been here every other day if she can, maybe every three days if she’s been really busy. She comes even when she looks exhausted from work, even after long days that drain her, even when she doesn’t look like she’s feeling her best. She hasn’t just stopped coming to see him… even when he doesn’t always talk to her, or when he’s very clearly angry, or when he’s having a bad day. Getting up and leaving him regardless of what’s going on, unless the guards tell her gently that it’s probably time for her to head out for now, just isn’t something she does.

It’s taking time, but that little ray of light is trying to take hold. Her consistent refusal to give up on him is wearing him down and he doesn’t think he has it left in him to fight her anyway.

Even so, the doubt is beginning to try and crush that small bit of hope. It’s been a whole week since the last time she was here. That’s never happened before. It’s never been longer than a few days.

He tries to think back to the last time she was here. If there was something he said or did or didn’t say or didn’t do that made her decide she didn’t want to see him again. That she was just done with him.

Despite the fact that he can’t really come up with anything like that, he still thinks it must have been something. Is it better this way, then, if she pretends they never were friends at all? If they don’t talk.

“She… she has to be coming. I’m not gonna hold my breath.”

It hurts.

God, it hurts.