Bruce Wayne’s hands were never too far from his spouse, (Name) Wayne. Whether it was around the waist or on the shoulder, linking arms or resting on their thigh, he made sure to never disappoint.
Disappoint the crowd, that is.
The photographers didn’t see through the pictures how tense their shoulders were, or how loose his hands were, eager to drop from their place. Or how forced the smiles were, how strained the laughs came out, how everything was so, so fake.
The reporters didn’t write about how (Name) stayed in the dark corners, how the rest of the family never interacted other than for appearances, grimacing the slightest whenever they had to come to close proximity of the stranger they lived with, looking at them with nothing but disgust or indifference.
The news articles wouldn’t know how it was all a facade, just a show for the sake of looks. Or behind closed doors, how (Name) was treated. Like a painting on the wall to never consider, a plant too far behind to water, the crack in the wall too high for anybody to notice. It was either that or the looks of plain disdain and contempt from passing, the few rare occasions they were worth a glance.
The readers couldn’t comprehend how (Name) grew to hate themself, wondering why they existed and if they did at all. Or how the coldness of it all wrapped around, falling upon their shoulders as a heavy weight, like a blanket. How their laughter grew unfamiliar to themself, how their own voice was forgotten, how that once bright light dimmed and dulled and died.
They would never understand how the walls of what was supposed to be home became a prison, confined and chained and caged. How (Name), with no one but themself, became a ghost, consuming their times with self loathing, or the few moments where they felt ok, would do one person activities.
They can’t notice how (Name) walked the halls of the Wayne manor like a ghost, wandering and wandering, never arriving at their destination of happiness, of wanting, of hope and love. (Name) Wayne was so, so lonely, even within the large walls of the manor, inhabited by many. With no one to turn to, they eroded away to nothing but a shell of the once joyful (Name).
And they never would know or see or understand.
Bruce Wayne’s hands were never too far from his spouse, at least in front of the cameras.
Dianne Reeves: A Voice of Resilience, Jazz, and Timeless Artistry
Introduction:
In the pantheon of jazz vocalists, Dianne Reeves holds a unique place. Her voice, filled with emotional depth and technical brilliance, has been captivating audiences for decades. Reeves’ career has spanned generations, yet she has consistently maintained relevance by evolving her artistry without sacrificing her identity. Whether she’s delivering soulful ballads, fast-paced bebop,…
SUMMARY: Eleanor gets overwhelmed during her visit to the coffeeshop and as she makes a break for it, she runs into Metzli, and they helped her calm down.
WARNINGS: Panic attack
It’d been a stressful day at MuertArte, albeit successful in multiple ways. Foot traffic was good, and the attention people were paying was even better, but too much of it always put the vampire on edge. “Hmm…” They sighed to themself, happy that Rachel was able to close when Metzli decided that they wanted an afternoon coffee before heading home. It was the perfect way to end the day, all things considered.
Their footsteps clacked against the concrete, a tempo they focused on as they moved amongst the crowd of people. Multiple strangers bumped against them and grazed their sensitive skin while they attempted to maintain their focus on the sound of their gait and the smell of the nearby coffee. It was better to focus on things like that, lest they bite someone or make a scene. Like how the sun was overhead and the wind danced across their skin. How it was almost gently guiding them to the coffee shop with a little push.
On a warm day like that, nothing really beat having a red eye, and with Leila back at home, Metzli was looking forward to sipping away at their drink with her in their arm. They just had to get there first.
Eleanor had been on edge all day because she had been plagued by The Dream that previous night. It was the same every time: she and Lily went through their normal morning routine and met up in the kitchen where they talked and laughed together as breakfast was prepared. Eleanor would remind her girlfriend of her book signing that evening and Lily would promise that she would be there and exclaim how proud she was of Eleanor. Their cat, who had been sent to live with Lily’s family after her disappearance, would run through the kitchen like a mad woman and cause the both of them to fall into another fit of laughter. Eleanor would turn to pour herself a cup of coffee while she kept up a string of conversation but when she looked over her shoulder Lily would be gone. She’d search the entirety of the small home they shared and then both the front and backyard. When The Dream came to a close it was always with a piercing scream that caused Eleanor to sit up ramrod straight on the couch as she tried to catch her breath.
The day that followed was always hard for Eleanor and she would cope by turning off her phone, burying herself in a pile of blankets and pillows, and would stare at the wall opposite the couch for hours. That was what she had planned to do but something in the back of her mind convinced her that it would be a better idea to go out into the world and try to find another coping mechanism, something more productive than wallowing in the self pity she’d been drowning in for nearly a year. Because coffee was enough to motivate her to leave the apartment on even her worst days she found the strength to change out of her pajamas and headed out on foot.
Instant overstimulation. This person was worried that they wouldn’t be able to pay their car note on time, that person was so angry with their boss they thought that if they didn’t quit they just might fight him. Even the children that ran by her as they squealed with laughter had a negative impact on her - their abundance of joy felt more like a headache to Eleanor because she so badly wanted to remain in her sorrowful mood. She took a deep breath and entered the coffee shop anyhow because it had taken a lot of courage for her to get there and she thought that she deserved a reward. As she stood in line she imagined that she might be able to calm herself down, but she was able to feel when a couple came in right behind her and a wave of love washed over her. It was sickening, the way they felt so strongly toward one another, and she selfishly thought how inconvenient their feelings were when her entire world had crumbled before her eyes.
Deciding she couldn’t stand another moment of it Eleanor turned and headed right back out of the coffee shop with the intention of going straight home where she would surrender to another day of wall staring, but in her haste she ran right into someone as they walked in the opposite direction.
“I’m sorry, I am so, so sorry!” She kept her eyes on the ground so that they wouldn’t see the tears that had blurred her vision.
When Metzli’s hand reached for the door, they expected to grab the handle and pull, but instead, someone came rushing out. The door rammed straight into their hand and a body slammed right into them. For a moment, Metzli was angry. For a moment, they wanted to snap. For a moment, they sneered. And then that moment ended when they recognized the voice that was filled with desperate remorse. A voice that didn’t deserve to contain such pain, even if they knew it was inevitable.
“Eleanor?”
Every upset emotion they felt dissipated in an instant, and they quickly hunched slightly over to inspect Eleanor’s face. Already, there were streaks of tears lining down her cheeks, and it made Metzli’s chest ache. Had someone hurt her? Were the emotions of others too much? Did they need to put someone in their place? There was no other way to obtain an answer until they investigated further.
“What is wrong?” They asked, moving the pair to the side as they wrapped their arm around her for security. “Are you okay?”
The familiarity of Metzli’s voice didn’t register to Eleanor at first and she struggled against their arm as it was wrapped around her. “Don’t! I’m fine, I don’t need any help.” When she eventually looked up into the concerned face of her friend she immediately abandoned her original quest of getting away from them and instead laid her head against their chest.
“It’s too much.” Eleanor was breathless as she spoke as though she’d run a mile before bumping into them. “I should have stayed home today, I don't know what I was thinking.” She’d been thinking that she would be able to get through the day without having a panic attack because everything had been going so well recently. Work was progressing fantastically, she was back where she felt she belonged, and she had her friends around her once again. She felt stupid for allowing a dream to push her over the edge.
She knew that Metzli would be able to see that she was lying should she tell anything other than the truth so she slowly shook her head and decided to be completely honest. “No, I’m not okay. Not at all.”
Too much.
Too much.
Metzli understood that all too well, their existence a multitude of instances that collected upon their chest like two ton weights that couldn’t be lifted. No breath could be consumed and no plea could be garnered. Too much, they knew, was an understatement.
“I am here.” Eleanor stopped struggling and breathlessly pressed against them, much to their relief. Metzli tightened their grip around her protectively and hummed a song they long thought they’d forgotten. “I am here,” They said again. It was all but a whisper as they glared away too-curious bystanders. “It will be okay. Use focus on me, cariña.” Hopefully their cool body would be enough to ease her back into a calmer state. After, they could find some place to relax. Perhaps the gallery, Metzli thought.
But that was entirely up to Eleanor.
“What can I do?”
She did as she was told and tried her best to focus on Metzli’s voice but it was hard. Emotions were everywhere and Eleanor found it hard to focus on anything. She gulped down some air but ended up choking which made her more desperate - she knew that she must have looked absolutely ridiculous but she was glad that someone she trusted was there to guide her through it. Hearing their reassuring words helped a lot as well, she had forgotten what it was like to have someone there for her while she went through her panic attacks and she held onto the calmness of their voice as she tried her best to swim back to the surface.
“Just don’t leave me, please.” Eleanor brought both of her hands up to her face to shield herself from anyone watching as they walked by. “I’m sorry, I should have stayed home today. I had this dream, this really awful dream, and then everyone’s so… loud!” She had started to lose her breath again so she took a break from talking to calm herself. Her deep breath technique would eventually work, she knew that, but it didn’t seem as though it were happening soon enough. “Will you distract me? Tell me why you’re here, how was the gallery today?” Distractions were good, she liked distractions.
“Never leaving. You have me.” Quietly, the vampire shuffled the pair into some much needed shade. They sighed gratefully, no longer feeling the burning haze on their skin. Of course, they would’ve stood there until they burst into flames, but Metzli thought that would’ve only made matters worse. They opted for a much better option, and eased the both of them toward the gallery, only a block away.
There were less people in the area, thankfully. With the gallery closed for the day, foot traffic was dwindling and it left the air still with tranquility. Save for Eleanor’s gasps for breath. “Here,” Metzli removed a handkerchief from their suit jacket and handed it to their friend as they guided her to the bench just outside the entrance. “Can give you distractions, but I can listen to you as well.” Their brows were knitted together with concern, tears of their own brimming in their eyes. Metzli couldn’t help it. Whenever someone they loved hurt, they hurt too. They didn’t quite understand it, but they were positive they weren’t supposed to.
Just like they knew they had a job to do for Eleanor. Because she didn’t want to be listened to. At least, not yet. “I will distract you.” They didn’t have the experience to be a proper friend, but they knew they had to try. And they did, as always. Of course they did.
For a long time, Metzli thought bravery lied within one’s ability to take action or die for a cause. But now? They realized it took a lot of courage to stand still. To watch when pain poured out of someone you loved. Stay idle as they gasped for air when the floor beneath them fell, each fear suddenly titanic in its implications. “I love you.” They assured, sitting still.
“Many people today,” Metzli began, scooting closer a bit awkwardly, stuttering their movements. Where were they supposed to place their arm? Were they supposed to hold her? Was it the same as they did with Leila? But then Eleanor fell into place. Under their arm, she leaned into them, finding a safe harbor. A place she belonged. “Have exhibit with queer artists for this gay month. Much art has been selling, which is very good for artists. I am…having excited feelings for what will happen.” As they spoke, as calm as they were, Metzli felt their own insides coil and twist harshly against themselves.
Uncharacteristically, Eleanor decided not to speak as she tried her best to catch her breath. She didn’t question where Metzli had decided to take her because she knew that whatever the destination no harm would come to her - she’d always felt safe with them and the art gallery was a welcome sight. She slowly lowered herself onto the bench and angrily wiped the tears from her face with the handkerchief she’d been given. She was upset with herself but most of all embarrassed. How was she ever supposed to move on if she couldn’t hold herself together in public long enough to order a cup of coffee? She didn’t think she would ever be able to be around people again, not if she would continue to lose her mind every time she tried.
“I’ll talk… later.” Eleanor leaned against them without a moment’s hesitation, a natural position for her to assume. Her heart rate had started to slow and again she focused on her breathing. She had a bit to go before she was completely calmed but Metzli’s mere presence had helped bring her back from the edge in just a short amount of time. “I love you too.” She smiled a little bit as she added, “I almost didn’t think you’d say it back the first time but I’m glad that you did. I did kinda spring it on you.” She listened to Metzli’s rundown of their day and was happy to hear that things were going well for them. “I’m excited for you, all of that sounds amazing. You should go to a pride parade or something to celebrate ‘gay month’.”
She closed her eyes again and tried to think of some way to explain her behavior. What could she have said that would possibly make sense to them? She felt embarrassed that the thing that had caused her to lose her mind was a couple who hadn’t done anything to her. “I don’t know if I can do this, Metzli.” More tears blinded her as she spoke. “It’s hard having to feel everything all of the time, I don’t think I’m cut out for it.” Eleanor did feel a lot better since they had left the busier side of town though and her friend’s cool body temperature and the fact that they were quiet in her mind helped a lot, too. She’d come to accept that the stillness that came from being around Metzli and even Ariadne was something of a high that she was constantly chasing, not that that was necessarily a good thing, but she had to do what she had to do to get through the tough times.
“I feel really stupid for acting like this, I’m sorry.” Her lip quivered as she fought back the sobs that threatened to spill out again.
Metzli watched angry hands scrub at the tears on Eleanor’s face, and on instinct, they batted her own hands away. “Gentle, please.” Brown hues sparkled with the request, and they silently wished they had both arms to comfort their friend. A quiet march of ants tread painfully up and down what was left of Metzli’s limb. The way it always did when they remembered what was torn away.
For a few moments, they had to focus on Eleanor’s erratic breathing to remember what they were there for. They split the ache with a squeeze and a kiss to her head, sighing as Metzli swept away the discomfort in just a few gestures. The likes of which budded from the petals of affection, rooted in the soil tilled by the same hand rusted with death. Only a monster could do such a thing. But was Metzli really such a heinous beast when Eleanor replied with her own adoration toward them? Could love have renewed them somehow? Looking into Eleanor’s eyes, Metzli liked to think so.
“Never expect you to say such beautiful thing to me.” Avoiding her gaze, the vampire looked distantly at a point they couldn’t quite decipher. They fixated on it and let it mute the crescendo of noise building in their chest. Or anxiety, as Leila would call it. “Never think I can have love. Not like this.” Metzli sighed, flexing and relaxing their hand repeatedly until the ball in their throat melted away. They could only imagine what lodged itself in Eleanor’s, especially when she was hurting so badly that she was apologizing for her own pain.
Metzli shook their head vehemently, scooting back a few inches so they could nudge Eleanor’s chin up to meet their gaze. It felt intense, but necessary, too. She was vulnerable, and Metzli would place themself at her level, let themself be seen if it meant that she could be comforted. “Not stupid, Eleanor.” They reached for Eleanor’s hand, brushing their thumb across the back of her hand. “Saying apology for experiencing too much emotion is stupid. Because you cannot control this. Because you have to feel…everything.” The word felt like they were putting it lightly. Everything felt so underwhelming, so juvenile in comparison. But it was the only word Metzli could think of that fit.
“You are not stupid. Maybe with some helping, you can get used to being outside again, but I think it is okay if you cannot. Practice means that it will take time.” With a wan smile, Metzli squeezed Eleanor’s hand and bonked their head against hers. “I have forever and Leila does as well. We can help you and you do not have to always have this feeling. You are not alone. I think you can do this.”
Allowing her hands to be batted away Eleanor busied herself with twisting the handkerchief as a way to keep them from being idle. It was much quieter where they were now and she tried to pinpoint the emotions that were hers instead of the messy residuals that had been left from those around her. The anxiety that came from being out in public during such an embarrassing episode, the anger that still lingered and demanded to be acknowledged because of the way she’d reacted, and a new feeling of gratefulness that she’d been fortunate enough to run into her friend; she needed to focus on their presence and everything would turn out alright, just like it usually did whenever Metzli was around.
Eleanor had once been terrified of the thought of becoming too dependent on Metzli and the silence they brought with them. The way she was allowed to focus solely on and regulate her own emotions whenever they were around was addictive and she found that every time they would part ways she felt as though she would not survive until the next time they were together. The stillness that Metzli brought wasn’t the only thing she loved about them of course, she felt safe around them and knew that she could open up about anything without there being any judgment. She was closer to them than she’d ever been with anyone outside of her family excluding Lily and it was exciting to her to have someone to run to. They were about as different as two souls could possibly be but something about that seemed to work in their favor.
“I hope you know that I mean it and that you deserve it. I’d do anything for you although I know you’d never ask anything of me.” Love was hard to come by in Eleanor’s early years and it still sometimes felt like a brand new sensation to her. Not all of her foster families had been heartless but it was hard to say if she truly loved them the way she loved the family who’d taken her in. Then there was the love that was shared between her and Lily, something so intense that it had scared her at times. And what was the level of love that she had for Metzli? Could it even possibly be measured?
With her breathing returning to normal Eleanor listened closely to Metzli’s voice and realized that forever didn’t seem nearly as long to her as it once had. “I don’t want either of you to feel that I’m using you because I genuinely love to be around you.” She smiled when their heads made contact and gently wiped the last of her tears away. “I have been struggling with this my entire life but recently it’s only gotten worse. Do you understand how bad it has to be for me to walk out before I get my coffee?” Joking seemed like the best way for her to ground herself again and to push the embarrassment to the back of her mind. The anger was still there but not so loud. It was a beautiful thing knowing everything she felt was her and her only. “I’m sorry to have ruined your plans for coffee, too. I promise I’ll make it up to you… but you couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m selfishly happy that you were there.”
Another frown crossed Eleanor’s face as she tried to decide whether or not to open up about what had truly pushed her over the edge. “I’m having a really, really hard time.” It took a lot for her to admit as much since she preferred to keep everything bottled away so that she wouldn’t worry those around her, but it was a lot harder to lie to her friend as they closely observed her from mere inches away than it was to come up with half truths for her parents over the phone. She felt guilty for needing help because in her eyes there was always someone who needed it more. She looked away as she added, “Sometimes I get lonely.”
It felt so silly that Eleanor believed she was using the nature of her undead friends selfishly. Both Leila and Metzli adored their time with her, going so far as to ensure she always knew she had an open invitation to their home, and to all of family dinners. “Not using us,” Metzli declared with another squeeze to Eleanor’s hand. “It is special when you let people take care of you. When you are loved, sometimes it is a gift. Does this have sense?”
Squeezing their eyes shut, Metzli let the words jumble around in their head for a few beats. English was never easy, but when they were trying to make a point, it felt harder than usual to put their thoughts into a cohesive sentence. The eloquence tended to fall short, but something felt different that time.
“Sharing pain means you care about us. It means you respect us. Enough to let us help you. It is…” They chuckled, knowing how hypocritical they seemed, having so rarely let others carry the weight of their pain with them. “Something I am learning, too.” Their eyes were brimming with tears that quickly toppled over onto their cheeks. It took a little struggling with Metzli’s hand otherwise occupied, but they managed to wipe most of their tears on their left with their sleeve. They didn’t want to cry, not when Eleanor was spilling her heart, even just a little.
Because Metzli understood loneliness. Had experienced it for one-hundred-fifty-nine years, struggling for breath. Gasping for air. Alone. Where they were told they belonged their entire life. But how did that compare when they knew Eleanor’s loneliness stemmed from a place of terrible loss? She knew love, accepting everything that came with it. Joy, anger, laughter, sorrow, acceptance, and now…whatever Lily felt, in a place Eleanor could not reach. With or without Metzli’s help, she was stuck in a grief that she could not bury.
“Lonely?” They brushed their thumb against her hand. “She is here, but not, yes? Lily?”
The irony of Metzli’s words made Eleanor smile just a little. Of course they would lecture her about allowing others to take care of her when they had a hard time doing so themself. “You’re making sense, I just wish that you would take your own advice and let someone else take care of you every once in a while. You don’t have to do everything yourself. But you’ve admitted that you’re still learning so I won’t make a big deal out of it.” As they spoke she enjoyed the way they squeezed her hand because it reminded her of a hug. It was too easy for her to get lost in the affection that others showed toward her because she’d had too little of it during her life. No one had exactly gone out of their way to make the weird foster girl who preferred her books to actual conversation feel comfortable or loved.
She shook her head. “She’s not here. And it’s hard without her.” It was also hard for her to hear Lily’s name aloud, especially when it came from someone else. Eleanor felt the invisible hand come back and wrap around her neck, once again making it hard to breathe. It wasn’t good to have no warning when Lily’s name would be spoken; sometimes whenever she was alone she would say the name out loud just to ensure that it never felt foreign on her tongue, but this was different. “I don’t…” She didn’t know how to communicate that she both didn’t want to speak about Lily but also needed to get nearly a year’s worth of emotion off her chest.
Eleanor looked up in time to see Metzli wipe away their tears and panic rose in her once again. “What did I say? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to… to make you cry!” She pulled her hand out of her friend’s and used both of hers to gently wipe away what was left of the tears. “What’s wrong?” Something about the silent tears was familiar and that scared her even more. “I’ve made this entire day a mess, we could have just gotten coffee and gone on about our business!” A true sympathy crier, she furiously blinked back her own tears so that Metzli swam back into focus. “Was it something I said?”
“No,” Metzli shook their head, releasing their hold on Eleanor’s hand to point at her chest, though they quickly went back into place. “Here. You tell me before you can feel her. So…here, but not.” They explained as best they could, fearing they had been mistaken when Eleanor seemed to only grow sadder. How beautiful and wonderful it was to love, really. Truly and undeniably love.
Grief was just that, in a different form. While terribly painful, there was something inherently good about it. Demanding to be felt just as love did, but even Metzli could tell that Eleanor wasn’t ready for a conversation filled with a love that would never be given or reciprocated. That was only made more evident when she croaked two simple words, unable to finish the thought.
It was unbearable, that much was clear. Yet, without hesitation, her warm hands reached up to Metzli’s face and offered comfort. “No, n-no.” They shook their head, avoiding her eyes for a moment before meeting her gaze. “I-I…I do not know why I cry like this sometimes, but it happens much when I see people I love cry.” With a swallow, Metzli took a small breath, realizing they were leaning into Eleanor’s hand. They stiffened their posture and did the same as she had, only there was just the one hand to do the work. “You did nothing wrong. I promise. Nothing is ruined. I like being able to help my friend.” Metzli offered a small smile, giving Eleanor’s palm a quick peck to alleviate the tension.
“I am good at emotion now, yes?”
It did make Eleanor sad to hear Metzli speak about how Lily was in her heart but not in her arms but she smiled and nodded anyhow to acknowledge that she understood what they meant. She looked away, took a deep breath, and thought about how the day had been turned into a mess. She was happy to have run into someone she knew and trusted and felt comfortable around but she still blamed herself for the day having turned out as terribly as it had. She was overwhelmed by everything and had no idea how to cope anymore. She’d gotten better for a while, a very long while, but recently it felt as though everything she’d accomplished had fallen down around her and shattered into tiny little pieces incapable of being put back together. It had to be the year anniversary that was quickly approaching.
Although she hadn’t meant to, she scoffed aloud and looked down. Anniversary. It sounded like such a happy word because it was typically reserved for happy occasions but nothing could have been more unfortunate.
“You’re a sympathy crier! You’re becoming more and more like me as the days pass. Oh gosh, I don’t know if that’s a good thing, look at me. I’m a mess.” Eleanor laughed aloud then, a genuine laugh that felt good in her chest and stomach. It was the kind of laugh she would produce back before The Situation had happened. “You’re telling me you cry because you see people cry? That just shows how much love you have. Now you see how I feel when I say that whenever I get happy I cry, the tears are uncontrollable and come out whenever they want to.” She softly ran her thumb over Metzli’s cheek before she let go to quickly wrap their hand in both of hers again.
“You’ve gotten so much better at showing your emotions and you’re a lot more open now, too. I remember when we first met, when I first came to the gallery, I just made a gesture like I might reach out to you and you recoiled. Now look at you.” She held up their hand to make her point clear and shared a large, proud smile. It could have been considered a superpower how well Metzli was able to flip Eleanor’s mood and although dark clouds and rain still threatened to continue to ruin her day the sun had started to peek out. “I think you would have liked Lily. I think she, you, Leila, and I would have made the best of friends. We could go out together and do fun things and… I just think you would really, really like her. It was hard for me not to like her, not that I tried.” Her lip twitched a little as she debated on whether or not to continue. “I’m so happy that you have Leila, but sometimes…” She looked away to avoid their reaction to her next words, “Sometimes I get jealous. Because I wish I still had that, especially the forever part.”
It wasn’t often that the vampire found themself bashful. Had their heart still been beating, they were sure a blush would have dusted over their features, bright and red. Instead though, Metzli simply looked a little surprised at being seen, which wasn’t something they allowed much either. Eleanor was one of the few they let breach the walls they had created to protect themself. It was easy because she did all the protecting for them. She was careful and precise with each choice she made, just as Metzli always was.
Sometimes they believed her to be the actual protector, a hero in her own right. She was able to withstand far more than they ever could. After all, what was more heroic than taking on everyone else’s pain, including your own? Eleanor never asked for anything in return and constantly offered kindness. So what of her needs? Didn’t heroes need saving sometimes too? Didn’t they need to be heard? Metzli believed so, and they believed Eleanor to be of that status.
So they listened, remaining quiet, but not still. They scooted a little closer, letting Eleanor be herself in totality, finding themself a little more in the process as they secured her in a firm embrace. It felt rather warm to be a friend, comforting and secure in all the ways Metzli never expected. They nodded and kissed the top of Eleanor’s head, offering a kindness of their own in the silence provided. Something she rarely knew, not getting the roles reversed enough to sate her needs.
At first Eleanor took Metzli’s silence as a bad thing and began to panic that she’d said something wrong, but with the kiss to her head she realized that she was being listened to. Besides her infrequent therapy visits she’d never truly gotten the chance to speak about how her entire life had been flipped upside down. She didn’t want to worry her family because they just needed the smallest excuse to swoop in and “rescue” her (making her leave involuntarily) and Lily’s family had never acknowledged her feelings in the first place. To them she didn’t exist nor was Lily a major part of her life - they despised the relationship the two had shared. The only person who would have dropped everything just to hear her out was the person she needed to speak about.
Eleanor closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. She didn’t want to dump everything that she was feeling onto her friend but there had to be a time when she could no longer carry the weight of all of her burdens on her own and she knew that her breakdown that day would be nothing compared to what was coming.
“I just miss her. I don't know what else to say or how else to say it.” There were no words that could describe what she felt, just a dark feeling that refused to be put into words. For months there had been a giant hole in her heart and it sucked in most of the good and replaced it with bad. She could be having a good day and the black hole would remind her that her entire life was teetering, that she was only one bad day away from losing her mind. It was a constant battle between wanting to be her usual bubbly self and also wanting to give up the fight and go back to being a recluse that never spoke about her feelings to anyone.
And then there was another thing that had crossed Eleanor’s mind a few times but she’d always pushed it away: was it her fault? Had she done something to deserve such a terrible fate? “You know, she was supposed to be headed to one of my book signings back home. She was going to get off and come straight there but she never made it.” She bit her lip, her eyes still closed, and frowned. “Sometimes I think… would things have turned out differently if she hadn’t left earlier than usual to make it to the signing? She’d been to every other signing, I really shouldn’t have pushed her to attend that one. She was working on a big project for her job and she was excited about it, but -” She stopped herself when she noticed her breathing had sped up again. A few deep breaths did the trick. “I think that things would have ended differently.” She would have gone on to the signing, Lily would have gotten off late as she often did whenever she was working on something she was excited about, and they would go on with their normal routine. There would be no panicked police call, no month-long search, no moving to Wicked’s Rest.
That last part is what worried Eleanor, though. If none of those events had happened, and she genuinely wished they hadn’t, she would have never met her best friend or any of the other amazing people she’d met during her time in town, but she’d have Lily. But she now lived with an unspeakable amount of pain that resurfaced nearly every day. Which was worse? She opened her eyes to look at Metzli again and tried to smile but failed. “People don’t typically listen to me whenever I talk about this. They usually tell me it’s time to move on, and maybe they’re right, but it’s a lot easier said than done.”
“Hm…” Was all that came out of Metzli for a little while. They rested their chin atop Eleanor’s head, the scent of coconut prominent as they listened to every subtle sound that she conjured. Her breath quickened and slowed a little erratically, and they were worried she’d faint from the lack of proper oxygen, but she appeared to be okay for the most part. Air was just a hard labor for humans in distress, Metzli supposed. A lot of things seemed to be, really. Especially for Eleanor.
“I think…there is something I am thinking about a lot after I visit Ireland.” They pulled away slightly, making eye contact to show their sincerity. A book they read once said people liked that kind of gesture. “I see people there that worship fate like a religion. I do not understand it and maybe I am wrong about how they worship, but I think fate is stupid.” Metzli worried their lip, hoping their point would get across once they managed to locate the right words. They looked up in thought, brows cinched together until they felt they sewed something up.
“We always have many choice and this means there is many outcomes. Endings can change and we cannot become obsessed with choices that are done, or become obsessed with maybes because we have new paths to choose. There is life to live and people to love.” Metzli interlaced their hand with Eleanor and offered a wan sigh. “But…it does happen. We do get obsessed. And that is okay. We can mourn and hurt about the endings, but moving on will take time, and that is your process. Your paths. No fate. No one else. You are hurting and I am sorry you are, but it is not always bad to hurt.” Metzli squeezed her hand, “Hurting about her means there is still love, and love is never a bad thing. Just like listening to you is never a bad thing. I will always listen.”
There was comfort in Metzli being close, so when they pulled away Eleanor wanted to protest until they locked her into a soft gaze and she smiled in return. They had changed so much from the person she’d met when she first moved into town, the person who’d flinched away from her whenever she got too close. As they tried to piece together what they were saying she remained silent so that they wouldn't lose their train of thought.
Tears built up in Eleanor’s eyes for a completely different reason than before and although she wanted to quickly look away to hide them again she’d become frozen as she stared back at Metzli. What she heard was beautiful and sad at the same time because she’d known for a long time that fixating on the past and beating herself up for the choices she’d made would do no good for the future, but hearing it all in her friend’s soothing voice somehow made it make more sense. It was her process, that’s what Metzli had said, so she needed to identify what stage of the process she was in.
She’d grieved. In fact, she’d done so much grieving she wasn’t sure if it were possible for her to grieve anymore. Then there was the anger. Why did it happen? Why did it have to happen to her? Those were the questions she violently craved answers to and for a while anger had consumed her as wholly as the grief had. For weeks Eleanor had lost herself and became the kind of person she would have never imagined herself to be, but that too had passed. What was the next step? Acceptance? No, it seemed too early for that. But then again what else was there? It was highly unlikely that Lily would come home, she knew that, but there was still that hope that had been discussed.
“I keep going back and trying to change certain details and questioning things because to me accepting what has happened and that I can’t do anything to change it just means that I’m giving up. I don't want to give up.” But it was heavy. Every day Eleanor woke up to an invisible boulder that was situated right on her chest and made it hard to breathe. She wanted the boulder gone but that would mean possibly erasing the person who’d inadvertently placed it there and she wouldn’t have that. Not yet, anyhow. She was too weak to even begin to think about that. Still holding tightly to Metzli’s hand she brought it up to her chest to show them that her heartbeat had finally slowed. “Thank you for listening to me, you don’t know how much I appreciate it.”
They nodded along, understanding twisting their heart uncomfortably as the weight in Eleanor’s voice fluctuated. Having to exist in a world where your loved one’s well-being was left as a question was not something Metzli would wish on anyone, especially someone they loved. “Accepting is not giving up.” They said confidently, pausing for a few beats. The silence draped around them comfortably, and it was only when Metzli adjusted their posture with conviction.
“Accepting is knowing and telling the story and breathing for yourself.” Tears welled in their eyes, reflecting Eleanor’s own. “Accepting is not lying to…to yourself.” Metzli’s voice trembled slightly, recalling several times when they had to bear witness to the bloody truth of their nature. Of what they did to hundreds of people when they first turned. People that they knew, and people that they only recognized. The truth, while heavy, wasn’t a burden, but avoidance was.
Eleanor seemed to begin to grasp the concept, and when she brought Metzli’s hand to her chest, they could feel how light each thump against it had become. “I will always listen when I can. You are my friend.” They breathed, adding, “Best friend.”
Eleanor wasn’t sure if she fully accepted what Metzli said at first but when she saw the way that their words affected them her heart gave a small leap. Perhaps what they said was correct and she shouldn't have seen acceptance as failure but it would take a while before she was able to change her point of view. She looked up into her friend’s face and at the tears that collected in their eyes. “Can I tell you something? I think that I have always felt comfortable around you. The first time we met you didn’t make me feel strange or out-of-place although I was very much out of my element in the gallery. You’re a good person now Metzli, even if you don’t see it sometimes.”
Eleanor nodded. “I know and you’re my best friend, too. I hope you know that the same applies for you as well, you don’t have to hold everything within yourself, you have me and Leila, we’re always willing to listen to you and help you out whenever you need it. You’re not alone.” She smiled at them and squeezed their hand one last time. “Do you want to try and get some coffee now? I think… I think I can handle it.” Surely the couple that had sent her over the edge had ordered, gotten their coffee, and left by then. “Thank you for everything. You don’t know how much I truly appreciate you. I talk about you all the time to my family, they’re happy that I’ve found such a good friend while living out here. That was one of their main concerns.”
Metzli knew Eleanor’s question was rhetorical, but they nodded anyway. They weren’t sure she would’ve been able to help herself from continuing anyway. That was just her nature, a similarity she shared with Leila, and Metzli loved them for it. “You are good person too. Think maybe you are confusing before, but I am happy I make you my friend.” People often talked too much, but that just never seemed to be the case for those two.
Their thoughts shifted to Regan and how she felt the same about Jade, and they couldn’t help but wonder if that’s what people meant by the saying, “Love is blind.” If it was, Metzli wasn’t bothered by it. Venturing into the dark was something they were familiar with.
“Let us get coffee.” The vampire replied, soft smile renewed as they stood up with their hand still in Eleanor’s. “I like not being alone with you and Leila. Maybe we get coffee and visit her shop? She likes the hot chocolate, and I think you will like all the candy she has.” Metzli sniffled the last of their tears away, bending at the waist to bonk their head to Eleanor just before pulling her up and offering the stress ball she had given them a long time ago from their pocket. “Focus on me and stay close with this.” They breathed, “Ready?”
Eleanor laughed. “I’ve been told I can be confusing. It’s something I’m working on. One of the many things.” She was happy that Metzli had decided to make her a friend as well, there were many things she wouldn’t have been able to get through without them. It felt nice to know that someone was always just a phone call away whenever she needed them.
“Oh, some candy sounds amazing right now! We’ll get her the hot chocolate and then maybe I can get some of those gummies she told me she keeps on hand. I love sweets.” Eleanor smiled at the contact between Metzli and herself and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She could have broken down into more tears when she was handed the stress ball she had gifted them during their very first meeting. Taking it she looked it over with a smile on her face. “You still have this? I hope that it’s helped you - gosh, it must have been just about a year ago that I gave it to you, I can’t believe… you’re still carrying it around.” She squeezed it a few times and felt her shoulders start to relax more.
“You’re the most amazing friend I’ve ever had and I truly mean that.” Eleanor took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes focused intently on the path ahead of her as she squeezed both the stress ball and Metzli’s hand again. “I’m ready.”
Harry and Louis have been married for twenty years, they have had two beautiful kids and worked together for MI6 collecting a bunch of successes. Four years ago cheating, drugs and jobs put the word "end" to their marriage. Four years agoLouis said goodbye to the love of his life. Four years ago Harry looked the other way while Louis left.
And it would be nice if things could just stay this way, this easy and quiet distance that doesn't bother, that doesn't let the absence be felt, it would be nice, but with a love like theirs, it would also be a shame.
Words: 4715, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Fandoms: One Direction (Band)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Zayn Malik, Simon Jones (One Direction)
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Additional Tags: spy AU, Whump, MI6 au, Agent Harry, Agent Louis, Established Relationship, Parents Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Parent Harry, Parent Louis Tomlinson, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst
via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/3sTCurC
