As if the first cut wasn't deep enough
I dove in again 'cause I'm not into giving up
Could've gotten the same rush from any lover's touch
But why get used to something new?
'Cause no one breaks my heart like you

When you kiss me, I wish we could see what happens next
For a moment, I could forget what happens in my head
If I doubt you, would you come through?
Happy second chance or happy ending
But this time you don't leave me sinking

- Paramore - Pool -

She woke up feeling like shit. She hurt, inside and out, and there was a terrible taste in her mouth. She let out a slow breath, flexing her hands. Her hand froze as it felt the paper in her hand.

She read it about ten times before she could get the words to sink in, and even then she wasn't sure what to feel. Exhausted and hurting, she cried again, mostly silently.

She was released from the infirmary a day later. She sat in the elevator in her wheelchair for a minute, unsure where to go. Eventually she pushed the button for his floor. She rolled to his door and knocked, not even knowing what she was going to say, or if he was even home.

He was home, working, putting his plan for retaking the network down on paper. He stood at the knock, walking over to look out the peephole before taking a breath and closing his eyes. A moment later, he opened the door, and stepped back without a word to let her come in, if she wanted to.

She swallowed, but rolled over the threshold, avoiding his eyes. She stopped off to the side, giving him room to close the door. "I... Assume you wanted to talk, or something?" She asked, shrugging a little, not looking at him, eyes on the room.

He closed the door, and took a slow breath. "Yes," he said finally. The fingers of his good hand traced absently, compulsively, over his words on his right arm. He had constructed what he was going to say carefully over the last day.

"I'm sorry," he said finally, and it was only years of army training that kept his voice from wavering, his heart pounding. "I didn't understand, and I treated you unfairly. I can give you as much of an explanation as you want. But the summary is that I was wrong."

She took a deep breath, nodding a little, and ran a hand over her face. She still couldn't make herself look at him. "I.. what do you mean by wrong?"

He pushed his good hand into his pocket so that he would leave his arm alone, and took a slow breath. "I never died, for me," he said finally. "I didn't understand how drastically the rules changed when that happened. Ever since this..." He waved between them for a moment. "...relationship started, I have been focusing on keeping it from going too far, from putting me, at first, and then later either of us in danger. From making us vulnerable. It used to be necessary, like what you did when Malcolm got that ring..." He paused, shifted again. He was getting off target. Why was this so fucking difficult? He took a breath and continued. "That was so much my focus that it never occurred to me to question if it was necessary anymore. I pushed you away. I shouldn't have done that."

She nodded again, swallowing. Her fingers tightened and relaxed on the armrests of her chair. "So where does that leave us?"

He was quiet for a minute, and then said, "I think that's up to you," he said finally. "You're in charge."

"I don't know what you want," she shook her head, brows furrowed. "I feel like the one with less... Preferences, I don't know."

"I don't think that's the case," he sighed, finally walking around her to sit on the couch, rubbing his eyes and then leaning forward, elbows on knees. He looked up at her, expression tired. "I just think you're less of an asshole about it. So tell me- I won't get pissed. I need to understand. What is it that you want? If this was your ideal?"

"I don't know what I want, Sebastian," she sighed, rubbing her eyes. They hurt. "I just don't... I can't spend my life not being able to talk about some things. I can't do it."

He nodded just a little, looking down at his hands. "I was afraid," he said finally, and the words tasted sour in his mouth. "Being soft means getting fucked over, and I'm not interested in that. And you have been my weak point for years. You scare me." He rubbed his thumb across the bandage on his hand, pressing into it, feeling the pain, trying to get past the nausea that was twisting in his gut. He would give anything to not be having this conversation. Anything, really, except her. "But I lash out at you, instead, and that's fucked up."

She let out a slow breath. She didn't know what to do here. "What do you want? I never know. Never have, I don't think."

"That's not true," he said, shaking his head. "You know exactly what I want. I want you. I want a fucking happy relationship with you. I want to do our jobs and I want the network to thrive and Jim to be happy, and for things to go like they should." His tone was frustrated, and he took a breath, trying to calm down. "But I also need things, and that's where things get complicated. Because I need you safe. Alive. I need Jim safe and alive. And those both- at least until recently- conflicted with what I want."

"So..." She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. This was all very overwhelming. "Do we just go back to how things were? Just.. pretend it never happened?"

"You still haven't answered my question," he pointed out. "Lorna. What do you want?" He watched her face, quiet, waiting.

She shook her head, running a hand through her hair. "I want you, Sebastian; that's never changed. I want whatever you'll give me. I always have."

He sighed, rubbing at his eyes again. "But that isn't enough," he pointed out. "That obviously isn't enough. Tell me what made you angry- because that wasn't five minutes' worth of anger there, that had been seething for a while."

"I already told you, Sebastian," she sighed. "It's not that it's not enough, it's that I can't dance around certain subjects just because I'm afraid of how you might react. Because once you get going and the fuse is lit, it doesn't stop. You blow up. The only reason it stopped happening as often is because I learned what was and wasn't okay to say. If I want anything more, I don't know what it is. I don't let myself hope with you."

That stung, but he closed his eyes, evaluating. "So how do I fix that?" he asked finally. He knew that feeling. It was how he felt with Jim. It was one thing from an employer, but from... whatever they were? He could easily imagine how awful that could be. He felt like garbage.

She leaned back in her chair, looking up at the ceiling, swallowing again. "I don't know. Just... Telling you not to doesn't sound very effective. I mean.. I guess you have to stop seeing me as a danger. If I'm just this dangerous thing to you all the time, of course you're going to get defensive."

"You're not 'just this dangerous thing'," he objected immediately. "But there is risk inherent in what we're doing. There is always going to be risk." He was quiet for the span of a few breaths. "Help me understand- because I'm struggling. What changed, between the day you told me about Malcolm's ring and we reacted the same way- disgust and surprise and snide remarks- and what happened here? I'm not trying to judge, I just don't understand. I'm playing the game but the rules keep changing."

"You're not Malcolm," she said, looking defeated. "This isn't the same. You're not the same. I've never... Met anyone else that made me happy. Or that stuck around this long. It just..." She sighed, looking away from him, afraid of his reaction. "It's not a bad thing, when it's connected to you."

He fell quiet, then, processing. "You make me happy, too," he said softly. "And I have hurt you over and over, and by all rights you should hate me, but you keep coming back. You told me once that you hated yourself for that." He looked up. "I don't want to just be another thing you're addicted to, Lorna," he said finally. "Think about whether or not it's best for you if we're together. I'll respect whatever you decide."

"Do you think I haven't, Sebastian?" She asked wearily, finally looking at him square on. "When we fight, it always crosses my mind. But I don't ever regret you. Not like my other addictions. I was young when we started this, so maybe I don't have the clearest perspective, but I've always been miserable. Except with you."

He nodded just a little. "Then how do I make this... comfortable, rather than an ordeal you have to tiptoe through just to be happy?" he asked tiredly.

"We need to discuss the things that you don't want to talk about. Like we're doing now. We can't just avoid them," she said quietly. "We need to make decisions on how to address them. Leaving them alone isn't healthy."

He nodded just a little, taking a slow breath. "Okay," he said, quietly. He was exhausted. He hated this. But he could deal with it if it meant keeping her. "If you can give me an hour or two advanced notice when you want to have one of those conversations, let me know what you want to talk about and when, that would be helpful for me."

"Okay," she nodded, "I can do that." There were still going to be things that she could never talk to him about, but it was a good step. She would never even be able to say the word 'marriage' in front of him again without being reminded of surprised, hurt disappointment to a question she hadn't even asked, and so she never would, for her own sake. She fell into silence, not sure what else there was to say. Normally by this point she would have crawled into his lap, but the stinging feeling inside held her back. The embarrassment. Uncalled-for rejection.

He shifted a little. "So... You'll have me back, then?"

She nodded, shifting to sit on her hands. An insecure tick. "Yeah. 'Course."

He looked over at her, looking her over carefully. "What did I miss?" he asked quietly, suddenly sure that he hadn't apologized for everything.

She pulled her hands out from beneath her, and they settled on the wheels of her chair, because she couldn't really stand up to distance herself from the situation. "I don't really want to talk about it," she whispered, giving him a slight, kind of embarrassed smile. "Forget about this one. Please."

He searched her face, and his gut sank a little, but he didn't have a right to ask further. He nodded just a little. "Whatever it is... I'm sorry. I hurt you and that was fucked up."

She could tell she was going to start crying again, so she just nodded and swallowed hard, turning the chair away a little. "I'm- I'm gonna go. Need to.. clean up my flat a little. Think I knocked shit on the floor," she muttered, giving a nervous wave of her hand and then pushing off towards his door, trying to keep her breathing steady.

He nodded a little, letting her go, and asked the last question before she could quite go. "I... If you'd be okay with me having my ring back... I don't mind that so much when it's you, either."

She stopped with her hand on the door, her breath hitching as tears spilled over her cheeks. She couldn't bring herself to respond, just sat there, shoulders shaking, willing herself to get it together.

He waited a few seconds, before standing slowly and walking over, making an intentional effort to make his steps audible on the carpet. "Lorna..." he said softly, wracking his brain, trying to piece things together. "I..." He tried to think through everything he'd said, and then he remembered the flash of pain on her face, the one that had first set him off, and it hit him like a truck. "I was afraid," he said softly. His hand was hovering over her shoulder, not touching. "I lashed out. And I asked who said I'd want to marry you... not that I wouldn't. It was careful wording."

She curled in on herself, hand slipping off the doorknob, and she couldn't explain why it just made her hurt more. Maybe it was the remembering. "I never- I never asked," she got out, a sob wracking her frame, and it just made her more embarrassed, just made her feel worse. "I never would. Even if it had.. had been on my mind... It was a rejection I didn't- didn't ask for."

He pulled back immediately, his hand closing into a fist, nails biting into his palm. He stepped back. "I... I misinterpreted what you said, Lorna, and in the moment I thought you had. I was wrong. And I'm sorry. I am so sorry..."

She didn't say anything in response, just cried into her hands, mostly silent except for hitched breaths. She felt broken. Why couldn't she move past this? Why did this one, out of all the ways he'd pushed her away, sting so much more than the others?

If it had ever occurred to her to bring the idea up, she never would have let it leave her mouth, for the fear that he would reject her. Had she wanted to keep some fantasy alive where they made the rings on their hands official? She'd never considered the idea, but now that it had been brought up, that he had jumped so fast to shut her down...

He pulled her chair back just enough to shift in front of her, and after a moment he knelt on the ground and reached out to touch her hand. "Lorna... Can you look at me for a second?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath and pressed her hands harder against herself for a moment before she dropped them to look at him, eyes red, and she had to fight down another wave of mortification at meeting his eyes.

He tried to identify what was going through her mind, and couldn't. So he took her hand in his. "You never asked my opinion. And I was wrong to give it to you. I'm sorry for that. But I want to be clear- I was not rejecting you. I would never reject you. You have kept me alive so many times... And I didn't take that ring off because I liked the idea behind it. I need you."

She stared at him for a moment, sniffled, and then shifted forward out of the chair and maneuvered herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest, fingers twisting into his shirt.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly, leaning against the door, not saying anything now, just holding her and letting her react.

She just let the warmth and familiarity of him sink in while his words filtered through the layers of hurt in her chest, soothing as they went. When she finally spoke, it was at least ten minutes later. "I need you, too," she murmured. Then she snorted. "Obviously."

He had been waiting uncertainly, but if he could do anything well, it was waiting. When she spoke, it eased something in him, and he took a slow breath. "Okay," he said softly. "I am so sorry, Lorna. I'm a fucking moron..."

"It's not completely your fault," she said quietly. "I don't know why it made me that upset. It shouldn't have."

"I was an arse, and threw my ring on your bed like a temperamental prat. You had every right." He pressed his face to the top of her head, taking a slow breath. "Jim said he didn't care."

She sighed. "He's already seen the worst of what this can do to us. And he felt something, too. I think he understands, to a degree. With us, at least. I wouldn't hold my breath for anyone else."

He was quiet for a bit. "What do you think about it?" he asked finally, voice barely above a whisper.

"Jim?" She asked, and shrugged a little. "I don't know. You know him better than I do. You hugged him."

"What? No, not Jim," he snorted, shaking his head. He traced his fingers along her spine. "Never mind."

"No, what do I think about what?" She frowned, shifting a little in his arms.

He hesitated, and then took a deep breath, a sniper's breath, the air filling all the way down to the bottom of his lungs. "About this whole thing. The marriage thing. What do you honestly think, now that we're talking about it?"

I lived a lot of different lives
Been different people many times
I lived my life in bitterness
And filled my heart with emptiness

Now I see, I see it for the first time
There is no crime in being kind
Not everyone is out to screw you over
Maybe, yeah just maybe, they just want to get to know you

And now the time is here
Baby, you don't have to live your life in fear
The sky is clear
It's clear of fear

Don't wanna live in fear and loathing
I wanna feel like I am floating
Instead of constantly exploding
In fear and loathing

- MARINA - Fear and Loathing -

I was just an only child of the universe
And then I found you, and then I found you
You are the sun and I am just the planets
Spinning around you, spinning around you

- Fall Out Boy - The Last of the Real Ones -