#not silly enough to hope for anders but a girl can dream

[elementalwife]

o my god thats my wife. my beautiful wife. still as beautiful as the day i lost her

[cygnetofthesea]

Floating Above the Depths

Netflix’s Elite Fanfic. I was asked to write a fic where Guzman almost drowns in an alcoholic stupor and Nadia, Omar and Ander saves him and helps him rehabilitate. Warning: it is a bit dark and I’ve included tags accordingly. If any of this is triggering and uncomfortable, please do no proceed with reading this. Otherwise, feel free and hope you enjoy this.

To the anon that requested this story, thank you for the idea and I hope you enjoy it! <3

Denial.

They say it's the first stage of grief. Guzman's parents were both very much stuck in that state despite it being two months since Marina…he could barely even form the words in his head.

But it's like when they tell you not to think of an elephant and that's the first place your mind goes to. The elephant. And try as he might, the words flicker in his mind against his will.

Marina’s murder.

He clenches his eyes in anguish. Maybe a part of him was still in denial. But no. The reality was that he, on the other hand, was firmly in stage four: depression.

That cold, sinking feeling as though there was no hope for sunlight consumed his every waking moment. He's taken to drinking himself into a stupor on a regular basis at this point just to get himself to sleep, but he's haunted even there.

The blue tinge in her skin, the dark, thick blood that was smeared across her temple…he could see it as clear as day every time he closed his eyes. He'd never see his baby sister smile again, never hear her laughter in the house, never banter with her. His precious sister that he had tried so hard to protect. From foes and from herself.

But he had failed. In those last moments when she needed him most, he turned his back on her. Goddamn, even the skinny kid fought for her harder than he had. He was her brother and a fucking failure. He even managed to lose Nadia in the process, the one person he was ever in love with. He was a mess of a person and didn't deserve Marina or Nadia.

He thinks about how Marina teased him endlessly the day she found out he was in love with Nadia.

"You want to hug her, you want to kiss her, you want to looove her," she sang, dancing around him as he tried to make lunch for himself.

"Shut up," he mumbled even as a smile broke across his face.

She paused her dancing to look at him carefully before her eyes widened. "Oh my god. Guzman, you really do love her, don't you?"

"I…" He had already admitted it to himself and he was not ashamed of his love for her, but he didn't want to give Marina the satisfaction as she looked at him smugly.

"My, my, my looks like my big brother finally grew a heart. And what a miracle, it wasn't for that witch Lucretia." She said her name with such disdain, he couldn't help the chuckle.

"I never saw Lu like that," he said truthfully.

"Thank god," Marina said, rolling her eyes before perking up. "Well, now I'll actually be really happy about you getting married!"

"Relax Marina, I can barely get a date with Nadia. I'm fighting against her father and Nadia."

"Yeah well, I think you two were meant for each other. Nadia will come around, she's just working through some things and I think she needs a moment to figure out who she is and own it. She's a confident girl, but I don't think even she realizes just how amazing and powerful she is."

Guzman looked at Marina with a soft smile. "That was really nice."

"Well, it's true."

"Oh, you won't catch me denying that," he said, sighing heavily. "I just wish she would see it. Even if we don't get together, I just want her to be happy and live the life she deserves, you know?"

She patted him affectionately on the back. "That's called love, darling brother of mine. And that is exactly why I know things will work out for you guys. Nadia may not know it yet, but she has feelings for you. And once she realizes them, I'm going to have worry about little Guzmans and Nadias running around."

Guzman shook his head skeptically. "Yeah, not for a while, I don't think."

"Yeah, but someday. Yours and Nadia's kids are going to be best friends with mine and…"

"With yours and the waiter’s?" Guzman supplied helpfully. "I'm only say this once…maybe he's not as bad as I thought."

Marina looked outside for a moment, a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Are you alright?" Guzman asked.

Marina turned back with a sad smile. "Yeah, yeah. I'm glad you finally came around to Samuel. He is pretty wonderful. And deserves so much better," she added almost to herself.

Guzman leaned against the kitchen counter and looked at her. "Better than you? Marina, please, you're the one too good for him. He better not forget it either or I'm going to have to have a serious talk with him." He cracked his knuckles with a smirk.

Marina rolled her eyes and smiled. "You are a Neanderthal. You're lucky Nadia can somehow see past that."

"Let's hope. After all, your kids are relying on us to provide them with best friends aren't they?"

That day was just two months ago and yet it feels like a lifetime. Guzman feels as though he was choking on his own breath as he thinks about that day. How was he supposed to go on? How was he supposed to move on with his life, grow old, have a job, maybe even get married? How could anyone even expect that of him when his sister would never get to experience any of that? He was going to grow older every day and Marina would be forever sixteen.

His sister, who had always wanted that more than he did. She was the one with ambitious dreams of being a revolutionary, falling hopelessly in love and filling a house with happy children.

That's what finally broke the numbness. The thought that he'd never get to be an uncle to Marina's kids. He didn't even deserve to be a father. A whimper escapes his lips before a hard sob wracks his body. And before he knows it, his entire body is convulsing and he can barely hold onto the bottle of rum he had brought with him to the pier.

It was one of Marina's favorite places to visit when they were kids. They'd sneak out there because their parents has forbade it, but it was always a beautiful sight at the pier, no matter the season. He'd come there every day since her death just to feel close to her in some way.

But in that moment, as he stood there, he didn't feel close to her. All he felt was despair.

He looks down at the water below him and thinks maybe that’s what he needs. A nice swim to feel weightless, just for a moment. Let water surround him and carry him into a dark abyss where he can finally find peace at last.

He yearns for that feeling, for peace and it's what make him drop the empty bottle of rum onto the boardwalk. He doesn't even register the sound of the glass shattering against the wood, his eyes fixated on the dark waters below him. It was a beautiful sunny day and the water sparkles against his sallow reflection.

He'd be ok, he thinks as he climbs up. His usual finesse was gone but he's none the wiser and before he knows it, there's a splash as he hits the water. He thinks he's moving his arms, wading in the coldness, but suddenly his arms feel too heavy, his body too heavy. He can’t seem to move. He doesn’t mind though and when his lungs feel like they're burning up, he's ok with that too. At least he can feel something.

And slowly, slowly, his eyes shut and there's only peace.

"Shit! Guzman!"

Ander whips his head around at the sound of Omar shouting. His heart jumps in his throat as he follows his gaze. He doesn't see anything, but he runs over to Omar anyway, the picnic basket jostling on his arm. He sees Omar kick off his shoes before diving into the water.

"Omar!" Ander shouts. His eyes scan the water in confusion, wondering what has Omar panicking. He drops the picnic basket onto the ground and scrambles to the edge of the beach, his eyes tracking Omar's movement.

"Omar!" he shouts again. He sees Omar dive under water and waits with bated breath for him to resurface. His heart thumps uncomfortably in his chest and he begins kicking off his own sneakers when he finally sees Omar break the surface.

But he wasn't alone. He can't tell from his vantage point, but Ander sees Omar dragging a body closer to shore.

No, no, no, he thinks. Oh god no, please, not another dead person.

When Omar gets closer, Ander splashes into the water to help him and it's only then he sees just who Omar was pulling to safety.

"Oh god, Guzman!"

He takes ahold of Guzman's torso as Omar keeps a steady grip underneath Guzman's armpits.

"Shit, what the fuck happened?" Ander gasps, hefting some of Guzman's weight. His muscles clench under the weight of Guzman's dead weight and the water soaked in their clothes.

Omar drags Guzman onto the beach, gasping. "I-I don't know," he splutters. "I was waiting for you and then I saw him fall into the water."

Ander checks for Guzman's pulse, his own thrumming against his skin. "I think he's still got a pulse, but it's weak."

"We need to get the water out of his lungs," Omar says.

Ander tries to calm his heartbeat and remember the CPR class he had to take when he briefly joined the swim team with Guzman. It had been years since he had to practice CPR, but he clenches his eyes shut and gets to work.

Pinch the nose, breath into the mouth, pump the chest to the beat of Stayin' Alive. It was a silly thought that entered his mind, but it was enough to get him to do something.

Please, please work.

He pinches Guzman's nose and breathes into his mouth, tasting the lake's water and traces of rum against Guzman's lips. It makes him want to gag, but he could only imagine what Guzman was feeling with that water clogged in his lungs.

Or maybe he wasn't feeling anything because he's dying.

"Ander. Is it working?" Omar asks, feeling helpless himself.

"I don't know." Ander laces his fingers together and pumps against Guzman's chest. "C'mon, Guzman. Wake up. Wake the fuck up. It's not your time."

Ander pinches Guzman's nose again and breathes into his mouth. His laces his fingers again and begins pumping. "Come on, you asshole. You know you were always better at this than I. Sing that stupid song."

Omar brushes the wet hair from Guzman's eyes and pleads. "Come on, pretty boy. You gotta make it or my sister's going to kill me. You can't do this to Nadia."

They both look down at Guzman who was so still, the panic slowly rising again. "Guzman." Ander's voice breaks and he can feel the hot tears building in his eyes. "You fucker, wake up."

But there was no movement. Desperately, Ander tries again and pinches Guzman's nose. When he begins pumping his chest again, it's with more vigor and he vaguely wonders if it'll leave a bruise. "Come on, wake up."

Omar watches Ander desperately trying to revive Guzman and the panic settles into his chest. But this time it’s because he thinks of his sister. What the hell was he supposed to tell his sister?

Suddenly Guzman jerks, coughing violently against the water that spurts from his mouth.

"Fucking hell," Omar sighs. He sits back heavily as Ander tries to calm Guzman down.

When Guzman finally settles down, he looks up at them bewildered. "What happened?" he rasps.

Omar and Ander share a look before Ander looks down at Guzman. "You uh, you fell into the water."

But there was something in Ander's voice that sounded like doubt and Omar catches it. Perhaps because Omar had doubts himself. It was no secret that Guzman wasn't dealing with Marina's death well, much as he liked to pretend he was fine. But was Guzman so filled with despair that he would actually take his own life? How could he do that to his parents?

"Nadia."

Omar looks at Guzman, who was slowly closing his eyes again. He looks so pale and sick. "What about her?"

"Nadia," Guzman repeats weakly.

Ander touches Guzman's face and feels his heated skin. "He's really burning up."

Omar looks at Ander. "We have to help him, but I don't think it's a good idea to take him home. His parents are a wreck already, they don't need to see him like this."

Ander nods. "Yeah, I agree. I'll call and say he's saying over with me."

"We should take him to my sister. She'll know what to do."

Ander looks at him in silent agreement before moving Guzman.

Nadia looks up at the sound of the store bell ringing above. She had her tailored "friendly store owner" voice ready only to be greeted by her brother. The smile drops from her face at his haggard appearance.

She scrambles around the side of the counter and grabs his arms. "Omar, what happened to you? Why are you wet?" she demands.

Omar simply grips her shoulders in reply. "Are mom and dad back yet?"

"No, they don't get back from the conference until tomorrow night. Why, what's going on? Can you tell me why you look like this, Omar?"

"It's Guzman. He's sick and we need your help."

Nadia's breath catches in her throat. Guzman? She hadn't spoken to him since their fight. Her heart picks up its pace just at the thought of him before Omar's words register.

"‘We’? Who's we?"

But Omar is already walking back out of the store and towards a car that she only just noticed. She follows him out and sees Ander climb out of the driver's seat, half-wet himself.

"What the hell is going on?" she asks him. "Did you guys all go out for a swim or something?"

Ander answers her as he pulls open the back door. "Guzman j-fell…fell into the lake and almost drowned. He's breathing and we got the water out of his lungs but he might be sick. The lake's water isn't exactly prime for drinking."

"What?" Nadia gasps. She walks over to Ander and spots Guzman's pale and unconscious face over Ander's shoulder. "Oh my god."

She steps out of the way as Ander and Omar pull him out and carries him toward the front door of the store. Nadia runs to get the door to let them in before shutting it behind them. She quickly locks the door and flips the sign so it says 'CLOSED.'

"Wait, why aren't we taking him to the hospital? If he's sick and almost drowned, he needs medical attention." But despite her words, she leads them toward her room, which was closest.

"Nadia, if we take him to the hospital then they'll have to call his parents and that's the last thing they need right now," Ander says, settling Guzman on her bed.

"Yeah, but it'll be worse if there's something seriously wrong and he becomes severely sick."

Omar heads out of the room. "I don't think it's that serious," he calls back. "It's like the time I almost drowned and you took care of me." He walks back in with a change of clothes.

"Wait, before you change him, take him to the bath," Nadia says, her eyes never straying from Guzman's face. He looked so pale and sick, she thinks. She thinks of a quick prayer to Allah. Please, let him be ok. "We should give him a quick rinse."

Ander and Omar carry him to the bathroom and settles him in the tub. Nadia kneels over the tub and quickly works on the buttons on Guzman's shirt.

"Help me with his clothes."

Together, they get him down to his underwear and use the shower hose and liquid soap to give him a quick wash to get the lake water off of him. As the boys work to wash his legs and torso, Nadia sits by his head for a moment.

She feels that familiar ache in her chest as she looks down at his face. That sweet face that she never wanted to admit was so captivating. When she first saw him, she barely gave him a second thought, let alone a second glance. She was so focused on the splendor of the new school and all the opportunities it would bring for her that she couldn't be easily distracted by a pretty face.

But then that pretty face got in hers and made her look at him and soon, she wasn't just looking at him, she was seeing him. That was a shock in of itself, but then suddenly she felt seen too. By this pretty, rich asshole of all people. He was seeing her with those soft, loving eyes. Believing in her potential and purpose more than anyone else in her life. How had that even been possible?

But now that sweet face looked as pale as death and so thin. A wave of guilt washes over her and she wants to cry as she thinks about their fight. She had found out that he made a deal with her father and that's why he was pushing her away. She thought if she showed him she didn't care what her father thought or what his rules were, they could go back to being…well friends at the very least.

If there was something Nadia hated the most, it was men deciding what her fate would be. Men deciding what was and wasn't right for her. That was something that her father and Guzman both had in common and she didn't think either would like having anything in common at all. But there it was. Two of the three important men in her life were determined to dictate just what kind of life she needed to live, taking away her choice, her agency.

When she found out and confronted him, things had gotten way more heated than she intended. She never meant to get angry. He was already dealing with enough as it was with Marina's death, he didn't need a friend abandoning him. But then he had spewed vitriol back at her, telling her that he wasn't worth the trouble and if she couldn’t see that then she was stupider than he thought. It escalated fast and beyond what she was anticipating and she tried to be understanding, tried to see that he was hurting and what he was saying was a result of that pain. But still, the words wounded her and she couldn't stand to look at him anymore. Especially not when he was looking back at her in a way that was so unfamiliar. All the progress they had made seemed to have vanished, as though they never existed to begin with.

But sitting there by the tub as she tried to get his hair clean of the lake water, she saw the face she recognized.

She gently cups his face between her hands. "Guzman," she whispers.

He says nothing and simple stirs in the tub, his head lolling to give into her touch. He nuzzles against her hand for a moment before going still again. She doesn't catch the way Ander and Omar are looking at her in sympathy. Guzman and Nadia were like yin and yang: so different from one another, but so right for each other. They shared a fiery passion but experienced and expressed them in different ways that complemented one another.

Ander places a comforting hand on Nadia's shoulder. "He's going to be ok."

Nadia nods jerkily, caught off guard before pouring water over his head. She believed Guzman would get over the cold from the lake, but he has been in a dark place for a long time—well before his dip in the lake and she wondered if he'd recover from that.

The first thing Guzman registers is the feel of his head pounding painfully. He was barely conscious and he felt like death, but the horrible throbbing in his head reminded him that he was very much alive.

As if the splitting headache wasn't enough, his torso felt sore as though he had gotten into a fight and clearly lost. Had he gotten into a fight? He couldn't remember. Then again, he could barely remember anything these days. He lived in a self-induced fog and he wasn't ready to resurface anytime soon. Or maybe it was because he hadn't allowed himself to resurface that he was feeling this awful.

"Fuck," he groans softly.

He feels a warm hand against his forehead and his heart leaps in his chest as he jerks.

"Hey, it's ok. You're ok," says a voice softly. Nadia.

He turns toward the oh so slowly and carefully opens his eyes. Mercifully the room was dimly lit with most of the light coming from the moon through the window, but he spots her right away.

"Nadia." His throat burns as though he had been screaming for hours and it hurt to speak.

She clearly detected his discomfort as she reached for a glass of water and two white pills.

"Here, take these. You'll feel better." She kept her voice very low and he was grateful. His eyes felt like they would pulse out of his sockets from the pain.

He struggles to lift his head up enough so she brings the pills to his lips before guiding the water into his mouth. She uses her other hand to gently tilt his head up.

"Is this ok?"

He hums in reply as he swallows the pills. He wants nothing more than to keep looking at her, to take in her beautiful face and catch a rare moment of her hair out of its braid, but his eyelids felt so heavy and shut almost against his will.

There was quiet as he took a moment to take in the situation. He was lying in an unfamiliar room in pain and clearly with a hangover. Nadia was with him in a dark room and he had no idea what happened or how he got there. He wasn't thrilled with the position he was in, least of all that Nadia was here to witness it. Just what had he done in front of her?

"What happened?" he finally asks.

He hears her sigh before replying. "Um, Ander and Omar brought you here. They said you fell from the pier and into the water. You almost drowned, Guzman."

"So, I was unsuccessful," he says wryly.

There was a tense silence and even though he couldn't see her face, he imagined it wasn't good.

"Guzman—"

"I was kidding, Nadia, don't freak out. I'm still here. Just as God had wanted me."

"I can't tell whether you're joking or not, but either way, I am not loving this conversation."

The throbbing pain in his head mercifully abates somewhat, the medicine finally beginning to kick in. He turns toward Nadia again and opens his eyes. With a smirk he says, "Then why don’t we stop talking and start doing more enjoyable things? The mood is already set."

Nadia sets her jaws and looks at him with that familiar stern face. She was not taking his shit.

"You can try to joke all you like, act like you're this invincible being that doesn't feel anything, but Guzman, all you're doing is proving the opposite. What were you thinking?"

"What was I thinking by doing what? I fell, Nadia, by your own admission."

"Bullshit," she bursts out quietly. They both seem to startle at that. Nadia wasn't exactly prone to foul language, unlike Guzman.

"Wow, I really must have hit a nerve."

She opens her mouth as though to say something before closing it and pressing her lips into a thin line. "You should have some of this soup."

She reaches over to a bowl on the bedside table and brings it to him.

"I'm not hungry," he says, despite not having eaten since the day before.

She looks at him sharply. "I don't care. You're eating this because you need to get better."

"Why do you care?"

She sets the bowl back down before adjusting the pillows behind him. He watches her all the while, breathing in her scent, and he wants to punch himself for being such an ass. Just because he hated himself, didn't mean she deserved to be treated with that resentment.

"Only Allah knows," she mutters.

"I'm-I'm sorry," he says softly.

She keeps her hands at the ready as he slowly sits up, but doesn't look him in the eyes.

"Yeah? What for this time?"

"Everything."

"Yeah, that's not how apologies work. You can't just put out a blanket 'sorry' that's supposed to make up for everything. So what exactly this time?"

Somehow he lets out a weak chuckle. "You're going to be an amazing diplomat one day. I can see it."

She looks at him then, bringing the soup back into her hands. "Well, you can only see it if you decide to stick around long enough."

That makes him look away again. "I'm going to ask you again, Guzman. What were you thinking today? Do you have any idea how much you scared us? I wasn't there when it all happened, but if you saw the state of Omar and Ander when they brought you in here…it was awful. And then seeing you like that…"

He feels a twinge in his chest and it takes him a moment to recognize it: remorse. Not just toward Nadia but Ander and Omar. Huh, it appears he was capable of feeling still and not just for Nadia.

"Look, I know what it sounds like and what it probably looked like, but I wasn’t trying to off myself. I was drunk and stupidly thought I would be ok. I didn't mean to put you all through that."

"Then don't ever do it again!"

He winces at her raised voice and she lets out a sigh. "Can you just eat some of this? You're not going to get any better if you don't and I don't care how you feel about yourself right now, but you're not going to wither away on my watch."

He takes the bowl from her and gingerly takes a spoonful into his mouth. It was amazing and before he knew it, he was taking in more.

"Where's Ander and Omar?"

Nadia rubs her forehead and sighs. "They went out to get some dinner. I said I'd watch you."

"I'm glad. You're a hell of a prettier sight than those two."

"Wish I could say the same about you. Have you seen yourself lately?"

He lets the spoon clatter in the empty bowl, his stomach suddenly in knots. "I can't exactly stand to look at myself these days, so no, I haven't."

Nadia takes the empty bowl from him and sets it back on the bedside table. "Look, I know you blame yourself for what happenedー"

"Don't you?"

Nadia looks at him with wide eyes. "What are you talking about? How could you say that?"

"How can you not? Nadia, I am…was her brother. I was her brother and I turned my back on her."

The thick ball in his throat returned and he felt like he could choke on his own breath. His nose began to burn as he looks at Nadia pleadingly. Pleading for what, he didn't know. To tell him that it was his fault or to understand that he was in so much pain and he didn't know what to do about it?

Nadia swallows thickly, her own eyes burning with unshed tears. Slowly, she reaches over and takes his hand in hers.

"Guzman, there aren't a whole lot of people that fight as fiercely as you do. At least I don’t know of one. Not just for yourself, but for the people you love most in the world." She leans closer, silently urging him to meet her eyes. "So trust me when I say, you did everything you could."

He looks up at her, hot tears falling silently down his cheeks. "I wish I had as much faith in me that you do."

"Tell me something. What was your favorite thing about Marina? I know what mine was."

"What's that?" he asks softly.

"That she was so passionate and headstrong. It was truly inspiring." Nadia pauses before swallowing again, the ache in her chest returning. "What about yours?"

Another tear slips down his cheek and he has to grit his teeth before replying. "That was probably what I found most annoying about her. But still, I was proud of the fact that she was so strong even as a little girl. I always felt a need to protect her, but deep down, I was grateful that she knew how to fend for herself. Until…"

"Did I ever tell you about my sister?"

Guzman furrows his brows as he shakes his head. "I didn’t know you had a sister."

Nadia nods slowly, looking away. "That night when I brought you to Samuel's party, you were so worried about Marina and even though the last thing I wanted to do was take you to my friend's party, I did. Not for you, but for Marina. She reminded me so much of my sister, so beautiful and bold and carefree, and I understood your need to protect Marina. I wasn't able to do anything to help my sister, but I thought maybe I could help you try with yours."

"What happened to her?"

Nadia shrugs. "She ran away from home. Didn’t tell any of us. We don’t know what happened or where she went, she's just gone. And ever since then, I lived with the regret of not being a better sister. For making her feel ashamed of who she was that she felt like she couldn't confide in me before she went…wherever she went. So when I saw the opportunity to help your sister, I did because I thought that maybe it would make up for the fact that I wasn’t there for mine all those years ago."

Guzman looks at her, his heart aching for her. He hadn't known they were both mourning a sister. "I'm so sorry, Nadia."

She looks back at him wiping away the tears that she didn’t even realize had fallen. She smiles weakly at him and wipes his own tears away.

"I didn’t tell you so you could feel sorry for me or so that I could tell you your feelings don't make sense. I get it, Guzman, I get the obligation you feel toward a beloved sister, but what you have to grasp at the end of the day is that you cannot control someone. You are not a puppet master, least of all, of someone as headstrong as Marina. She was fiercely independent and she was going to make the choices she made with or without your interference. It is not a reflection of you and you did not fail as a brother. You did everything you could, you tried to keep her safe. Even when she wouldn’t accept it."

Nadia spoke about fierceness, about Marina's strength, but as Guzman looks into her red-rimmed eyes, he could only see hers and for the first time in so long, the ache in his chest eased. It was slight, but it was there.

"Thank you," he says softly. "For reminding me of the best of my sister and not the girl everyone sees her as now."

"Anytime, Guzman. Truly." She squeezes his hand. "Please, just don't do anything like that again. Things aren't going to change and look better overnight, but the important thing is to try, ok? I'm really worried about you and you need to acknowledge that things are not ok, but that they will be."

"It's really hard some days. Most days."

"It's going to be like that and that's why you need to accept help. Whether it's from a trained professional or your friends. We're all here for you."

"I don't know if Ander and Omar are too fond of me at the moment."

"Why, because of the fight you had with Ander? If you think he's going to hold that over your head then you don’t know your friend very well." She moves to grab her phone. "Speaking of, I didn't think they were going to be long."

Just then they hear the front door open.

"Ander? Omar?" Nadia calls out.

Ander passes by the doorway on his way to the dining room. "Hey Nadia," he calls out. "Sorry, we're late, there was a long line at the restaurant."

Nadia looks over to Guzman. "How do you feel? Do you think you can make it to the dining room and join us for dinner?"

"I feel like shit. But if that's kebab I smell then yeah, I'll make it."

Nadia chuckles and holds out her hand. "Come on."

They walk hand-in-hand to the dining room with Nadia supporting some of Guzman's weight as he still felt weak on his feet. When they reach the doorway, Omar and Ander look up.

"Guzman!" Ander drops the takeout container he had pulled out of the bag and rushed over to them. He pulled Guzman into a tight hug that reminded him of the soreness in his chest.

"Ander," Guzman wheezes even as he wraps his own arms around his best friend.

Ander releases him but keeps him close. "You fucker, you scared the shit out of us."

Guzman lets out a small smile. "I'm really sorry. But hey, it looks like you got to see me naked so at least I made it interesting."

Ander lets out a chuckle and shoves his shoulder. "There he is. Come and eat. We got your favorite just in case you were up for some real food."

But before Guzman moves any further he looks over to Omar. "Thank you," he says. "To all of you. I know I don't deserve—"

"Oh my god, would you shut up about that?" Nadia says, pulling out a container from the bag. "Is this the eggplant?"

Guzman walks closer. "Ok fine. Whatever I deserve or don't deserve, I'm really grateful for all of you. I would do anything to keep you guys safe."

Ander nods. "We know."

Omar steps over and pulls Guzman into a hug. He doesn't say anything as he holds Guzman in his arms, but there an unspoken understanding. You matter to me.

Omar pulls away and flicks him on the nose before moving to sit beside Ander. "My sister would kill me if something happened to me and I actually don't hate the idea of having you as a brother-in-law."

Eyes wide Nadia swats him with the takeout menu. "Omar, shut up or I'm going to stuff that big mouth with this."

Omar raises his hands in surrender. "Don't shoot the messenger."

Nadia rolls her eyes and shoves Guzman away when he scoots his chair closer to her. "Don't get any ideas."

But even as she stuffs her mouth with eggplant, Guzman can see the blush creep up her neck and for the first time in a while, he feels the flutter that makes him feel human again.

Omar places a plate of kebabs and rice in front of him and as Guzman looks around at this small, rag-tag group of people in this tiny kitchen that was unlike anything he had ever been in, he thinks of how he should consider himself lucky. It would be an uphill battle against the darkness that lives inside him, but with them in his life, he'd find a way to fight it.