"Sara...?" Reyes asked uncertainly, voice cracking with disuse.

A violet glow was shimmering over her bare skin, her hands splayed out in front of her, raised towards, no, against him. Reyes took an uncertain step towards the bed, nearly stumbling over the crumpled cast-off sheets. When she didn't move, didn't react except to blink uncertainly at him, he continued his approach. Eyes not leaving her face he sank down next to her slowly, feeling all at once extremely exposed to her will yet cognizant that something terrible seemed to have happened, that seemed to be of his doing.

"Sara…" he repeated, slowly reaching out, his fingertips meeting her shoulder when she did not draw away.

Her skin was warm to the touch, his fingers humming as biotic energy danced and sparked and juddered over them. The soft scent that always, always hung about her, tangled in the waves of her hair, in the dips of her collar bone, already weaving its way into the fabric of his sheets, remained though it was dampened. Like sweet peas caught in a thunderstorm, the fragrance was cut off by the flashes of ozone in the air, the tang left by the biotics coursing throughout every cell in her body. Her shoulder, too, was shaking violently beneath his hand like she had indeed been struck by lightning. Slowly, very slowly, Sara lowered her hands, balling them into fists in her lap, flashes of purple light streaking between her fingers, power dimmed but still ready to be hurled. As she did so her eyes faded back to their comforting, familiar blue, but her pupils were stretched, afraid in a way that made her for once look her age; young and vulnerable.

"What happened?" Reyes asked tentatively, his hand slipping down her arm and onto the mattress. This space between them felt significant somehow.

"You attacked me and I… I defended myself," Sara replied, each syllable ringing with alarm and confusion. "I-I… I panicked, I could've killed you..."

She spread her palms in front of her, eyes tracing over her fingers. Reyes stared, eyes flitting over her face for a trace of deception even as he knew he would not find one. He swallowed, though he had a hard time doing so. I wouldn't.

"You didn't know you were doing it. You were having, well, it seemed like a nightmare."

Sara shook her head as though to shake herself out of whatever intensity of emotion it was that was causing her shoulders to practically vibrate, carefully closing her palms again.

"That's… that's not possible," Reyes frowned, the corners of his mouth curling at the ridiculousness of it. How could he possibly harm her in his sleep?

Her expression did not soften in response to this, not even a little bit, "You had me by the throat, Charlatan."

Perhaps it was the force with which she said it. Perhaps it was the certainty. Or perhaps it was the fact she had never once before referred to him by that moniker. Whatever it was, her words caused his mouth to fall back into a line, a heavy breath escaping his chest. Before he could speak, she did.

"Reyes. This isn't something you can ignore…" she grabbed his arm, fingers tight around muscle, tips biting firm even though there was still a trace of a tremor. "What… what did your father do?"

If he had found their conversation bewildering before, it was nothing compared to this. The bed, the ground, the planet itself, shifted below him and he was entirely suspended, weighed down only by the heaviness of a burning, blistering pain and regret he had not let himself turn over in his mind for years. At least not whilst he was conscious… He could not so easily bind his sleeping mind in the same constraints. And now she knew. She knew there was something, a something dark and weak that twisted inside even though he had built himself up as entirely the opposite. The Charlatan who shouldered no vulnerability, a far cry from that little boy frightened to step through his own front door. Even now, even in the gloom, he could see her eyes still wide with shock, a shock that would inevitably be replaced by judgement when she realised fully what a joke it all was. He was. You've always been.

"It's just, both times now you've murmured his name and I think…"

Reyes stood quickly, without looking at her, making a great show of looking for his cast-off clothes, pulling them back on, possibly inside out such was his haste. She quietened for a while and made no move to stop him until he felt a cool palm touch his lower back as he sat back down on the bed to drag his shirt over his head. He paused as the material fell into place.

"I know you don't want to talk about it. I just…" It was almost like he could feel her eyes fixed on the back of his neck. There was a sigh, hot against the curve of his shoulder, then her hand withdrew from beneath his shirt, ascending his back until her fingers smoothed over the scruff of shaved hair at his nape. "You're not on your own."

He was fully clothed and his jacket was on the back of his chair. In a few short strides he could be out of the door. There was nothing stopping him… And yet. Reyes remained; elbows leant on his knees as her fingers worked upwards, twisting through the longer strands gently. Reflexively he tapped his heel against the floor causing the rest of his body to vibrate.

"Sara, this isn't…"

She slipped forwards so she was next to him at the edge of the bed, a sheet she had recovered wrapped about her. His words trailed away from him. Reyes couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was that made him pause, that made him stop talking. Her face was cast in darkness now, her biotics no longer held about her like she needed to defend herself from him. But he glimpsed in a sliver of light from the window the expression on her face, an expression she had worn many times before that was not searching or enquiring but that just said that she knew, knew him enough that whatever he said next wouldn't change her opinion. This wasn't right. Not now, maybe not never, but definitely not so soon. Reyes stood up quickly, reaching for his jacket before his limbs seemed to betray him and he leant against the back of the chair instead, fingers clenched, glaring at a spot on the wall like his own indecision was the fault of the furnishings. When he finally turned around Sara was still sat with her arms folded, strands of the fringe that fell into her eyes on one side not concealing her face enough to hide that it had been filled with concern. She unsuccessfully tried to wipe this from her face as soon as he looked at her, which in itself made his decision for him. He would not have her feeling sorry for him. He would not have her imagining his past or present self as someone in need of sympathy.

Reyes shouldered on his jacket, "I need a smoke if we're going to talk about this."

The rooftop was cool even with Reyes' flightjacket thrown over her shorts and vest, though that wasn't the only reason she had goose pimples prickling over her skin. They sat just shy of the ledge, feet stretched out straight in front of them, the lights of the port casting a neon-bright glow around them, weaving ribbons of violet light through strands of Reyes' raven black hair. She stared at it as a way of looking at Reyes without really looking at him, without seeming like she was checking up on him or trying to force him to talk. Not that this was really so bad a distraction. Even now, free of any wax, his hair fell elegantly around his face in a way that looked like he had styled it so. She watched how the light caught and illuminated each strand, shifting and casting them in different hues as he moved forward to flick ash from the end of his cigarette. Ryder resisted the temptation to reach up and rake her fingers through her own disarray of curls.

She sighed, "You have beautiful hair."

That surprised him.

"Are," the grave expression on his face faltered and broke for the first time since they had ascended the stairs to the rooftop, "are you trying to get me to open up by sharing your own embarrassing confessions?

Ryder shrugged, "Perhaps. Or perhaps SAM has finally got fed up of feeding me witty one-liners and pick-up lines and this my first actual attempt at flirting with you solo."

He gave her a quick look and an arch of his eyebrow that simply said 'You're weird' but Reyes did at least smile a little. It caused a small spot of warmth to blossom in the pit of her stomach and she felt a little braver.

"Since when do you smoke?" Ryder asked him, trying to steer the tone of the conversation casually into something more serious.

"When I'm uncomfortable," Reyes replied, a deep sigh mixing with his exhale as smoke billowed, curling from his lips, "which is to say, not very often."

Reyes stubbed out the cigarette, his eyes taught on his workings as he rested his elbow on one knee. When she didn't reply his almond eyes flicked to the horizon and there was a weight in his voice, "I'm not accustomed to this."

Ryder was unable to stop her eyebrow flicking skyward, "You're the biggest flirt I know."

He laughed in his usual way, a catch in the back of his throat, a touch sly but still warm, "That's different." He turned and look at her, eyes settling on hers in a way that made her chest feel sore, "You know that."

Ryder nodded. At the same time a strange desire rose within her, one that made her hand clench uselessly with the force of it, a desire to try and fill those broken cracks that someone, someone she now seriously suspected was his father, had struck within him that he so carefully tried to conceal. She laid her fingers over his where they were pressed against the surface of the rooftop, smoothing over the rise of his knuckles. Reyes looked down at her hand. His mouth twisted and the fingers beneath hers felt colder somehow but he didn't yank away from her as she had half expected.
"My father… killed my mother."

Ryder held his gaze as it met hers briefly, so very briefly, before he looked away over the rooftops again. Such tumult had flickered in his eyes it had left her head spinning, multiple reactions flickering through her subconscious as one by one she pushed each possibility aside. Her eyeline fell to the line of jaw-shaped scars on his wrist, the ones he had sustained during their fight for Meridian, healed all but for a faint reminder. She drifted her fingers across the back of his hand before curving her fingertips into his palms. After several heartbeats, he adjusted his grip so it was tighter around her own.

"He was a brutal man, a callous, abusive piece of mierda…" Reyes trailed off furiously into his mother tongue adding several words SAM did not translate, likely insults. Then Reyes bit off the end of his words bitterly as he made an angry, anguished noise in his throat. She felt him take a deep breath, his shoulder brushing against hers with the weight of it, before he continued in English, "He went too far in the end. I don't think he meant to, he was always aggressive when something didn't go his way and it wasn't the first time he'd beaten her but… That time he killed her."

Ryder leant into him, her elbow hooking beneath his, their sides bumping. She reached for the perfect word or phrase, then for once remained silent as she realised whatever she said would be inadequate. This wasn't that type of wound. It was old, a great abyss that stretched back over the years and the longer it had cut into him, the deeper it had run. It was the type that never left, that prickled and burned again even when you thought it was healed. Ryder knew that type of wound. It was the look in her eyes her mother had carried with her, the one she held for their father every time he left, the ghost of it remaining even when he didn't.

"I came home early from school that day and she was just there… crumpled… blood everywhere."

His voice was rough and for a moment she was glad she couldn't see his face.

"You told me your uncle taught you to shoot," she asked, her voice gentle, "was he...?"

"My mother's brother. He must have suspected what was happening, but my father was a powerful man. I think Uncle was scared that if he did anything, we'd all be in danger, my father could have had us killed," Reyes shook his head, "I think he hoped that at least that way we'd have some protection. My mother would…"

Abruptly, Reyes slid his hand out of hers and sat forward. He ran a hand through his hair, his fingers parted the strands, new currents coursing through black waves.

"Now you know," he spoke, his tone indicating that the conversation was over. Like he hadn't left her with a thousand questions. Like he hadn't just provided an outline of a story that was far more complicated than just its tragic ending.

Ryder leant forwards slowly so she could see his face again. Even in profile Reyes looked different. Drained. Flat. It was a different unlike the coldness that radiated from him whenever he was acting as the Charlatan, there was no hardness there.

"Reyes."

He didn't reply. Brushing wisps of hair behind her ears, tentatively she kissed the curve of his chin. He closed his eyes in response, dark eyelashes fluttering closed.

"Sara, I don't want your pity."

Reyes sounded tired. She moved from his neck to his nose, lips grazing the skin next to his ear, the points of his face, the corner of his lips. She'd had to rise to her knees to reach, one hand resting on his thigh.

"Sara."

The two syllables were a short warning. Undeterred she slid forwards, but as she reached for his face his eyes snapped open, lids narrowed. His expression contorted with frustration, "You're not listening. I don't want or need your pity."

"Good. Because you don't have it," Ryder snapped back, more fiercely than she had intended in her surprise, "what you have is my understanding. Even if you don't want it."

"Only because I don't deserv-" he caught his words, but he wasn't quick enough to stop her catching his eyes, his pupils large like those of a wild thing trapped in a cage. He continued more softly, "Look, I've told you because you asked. I don't want to drag up the past, it's pointless. It won't change it."

Reyes leant back on his hands putting a distance between them. His eyes trained on the ground, a lopsided furrow to his eyebrow and a grim set to his teeth that spoke of more than past trauma. The look in his eyes, one she had never seen in him before, confirmed it, it was unmistakeably guilt.

"Reyes," Ryder had to rock forward onto her knees to smooth a hand over his chest. She could feel his heart beating rabbit fast beneath the pads of her fingers, "It sounds… beyond horrible. But, you know, it also sounds like there wasn't anything you could have done."

"I was fourteen, I was old enough to-" his voice rose, urgently, indignantly, "You don't know what you're saying, you weren't there."

His face so close to hers, full of a bitterness and hurt that made him look worn around the edges. The embers that ignited with the amber of his eyes burnt her so keenly she could feel the rasp of his fingers at her throat again, her pulse careering out of synch, dizzying when combined with the heat she always felt when she was around him.

Reyes stood so abruptly Ryder rocked backwards and fell into a seated position, "If you knew… Would you be saying that if I told you I killed him afterwards? Or, or if I said I just ran away instead?"

He looked down at her, hands splayed behind her where she'd caught herself, staring up at him with wonder and sadness and longing.

Reyes scrubbed a hand over his face, his own words hanging in the air between them, "I'll… I'll meet you. Later. You already have access to my place anyway."

He turned, paused as though he had changed his mind, then plunged his hands into his pockets and exited the rooftop via the doorway to the stairwell. Ryder stared after him.

"Well, that went well," Ryder groaned aloud, grinding her fist into the cold tile next to her agitatedly.

"Mr Vidal's heart rate and adrenaline levels were already accelerated at the beginning of your conversation. This suggests it was a topic that would always lead to a level of discomfort or distress. You were not the cause of this, Ryder," SAM responded, helpfully.

"I suppose not…" she stared at the space Reyes had left beside her, a weight in her chest.

"Whenever your father and mother had a disagreement Alec would always retreat for a few hours before he returned. I never really understood why," SAM questioned, and she was sure she could almost hear curiosity there.

"To calm down, collect his thoughts," her hand drifted to the chain at her neck and she laughed dryly, "escape mom's rage, there was no use trying to cool her down once she got started."

"I think I understand. Thank you, Sara."

Ryder nodded, a catch in her throat, "I miss them."

"As do I."

The sunrise was beginning to creep over the edges of the lowermost buildings below her, casting long shadows over the port.

"If you like, I can locate Mr Vidal."

"No SAM, but thank you," then another thought occurred to her, "SAM, when you offered to keep me updated about changes in Reyes' physiology… I said no."

Shortly after their first date, SAM had suggested that since she and the Charlatan were getting to know each other a rather more intimate basis, the AI could use his scanners to detect irregular physiological and small physical changes that would help decode his moods or tell if he was lying. Ryder had declined, explaining this would a breach of privacy. SAM had acquiesced, or at least she'd thought he had.

"Affirmative, Pathfinder. Therefore I have not mentioned it since."

"But you just told me his heart rate was accelerated… so you've still been scanning him?" Ryder responded, suspiciously.

SAM didn't reply.