~.~

Elliot listened to the ringing as he waited for the call to be picked up, rolling the discarded piece of holo-glass around the kitchen table and watching it glint in the late-afternoon sun streaming in through the window. Dressed lazily in sweats and an old shirt, his socked feet crossed atop the arm of the chair beside his, Elliot absently noted that he needed a shower.

She picked up right as the little piece of glass rolled over the edge from an unintentionally energetic spin, and careened across the floor. He missed what she said in greeting as he almost lost his balance, reaching to catch it automatically, and missing by miles.

He did manage to thump his heel against the floor though, and winced as he registered her voice.

"Hey Ma."

"That's not an answer," his mother's amused tone hummed down the line at him, "what did you break?"

"Nothing!" he yelped, his face warming as he got up to retrieve it, (he didn't need it, excess that it was, but he'd forget about it and fall over it later if he didn't,) "A bit of holo-glass fell off the table."

Her laugh was teasing and warm, and he rolled his eyes.

"Good to hear from you, Elliot," he affected a high drawl, "how are you doing, son?"

Her snort was all he got in acknowledgment, before she spoke again.

"So, what's broken, then?"

"Nothing!"

"Not the glass," she laughed, "what broke to make you call?"

"Nothing." he murmured again, setting the glass aside and getting comfy in his chair again, feet flat on the floor as though he'd lost the lazy air, "It's just been a while."

His mind slid to Wraith, of course, and he ran a hand through his hair as he tried not to let his crappy mood bleed into his voice.

Her sigh was knowing, amusement tipped with mild chiding.

"Is that the official line we're sticking with today, or should I cancel my lunch and settle down for a long chat?"

Elliot's eyes darted around the room even though she wasn't there to avert them from, and his moment of silence must have been telling.

"I'll call Rolf." she answered herself, "And then I'll call you back."

"No, no, don't do that!" he hastened, already feeling foolish without even spilling anything to her yet, "It's… forget it, it's fine. I just. Wanted to say hi."

His mother was quiet, letting his words float in the air in that way she was so good at, as though giving him time to hear them himself. He blew out a breath and slumped back against the high wooden back of the chair, realising he'd probably never had a chance at playing it off as just a casual social call.

"Am I listening, or advising?" she asked eventually, firm and commanding while still gentle, and Elliot was reminded how lucky he was to have been raised by her.

Infuriating, yes, far too keen-eyed for him to hide his secrets from, yes, but the woman was a rock. After the two weeks of self-imposed loneliness he'd just had, he needed her. He wasn't really sure in what capacity, but he did.

"Neither." he answered quietly, feeling a real smile slip onto his face, "I'll let you go for lunch."

"I have a few minutes." she brushed his deflection aside with an audible grin, "Spill it."

Where to start?

"Just wanted someone to talk to." he stalled, chewing the underside of his bottom lip and trying to arrange his thoughts into words that would make some sense.

Of course, his mother was not a stupid woman, and her next question was instant.

"And that someone isn't one of your friends?"

Elliot swallowed and said nothing. His face burned as he thought of the one friend he really did want to talk to, and the second, whom he had neglected recently. The problem was, that since waking alone in his bed after admitting his love to a drunken (hopefully sleeping) Wraith, he was also, out of cowardice, relieved that she hadn't yet spoken to him.

He dreaded the conversation more every day. His imagination had already shown him multiple ways in which she could make him feel two inches tall with just words. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest and he forced aside the fear that he might not have a squadmate come their next Game, never mind his best friend.

"What's happened with her?"

Elliot closed his eyes as his throat constricted. He felt ridiculous and small, like he was twelve years old again and she'd found out a girl had broken his heart. He hated it, the fact that he could still feel so young and lost, all these years later. His voice was more composed than he felt when he answered, carefully constructed like the mirage that it was, to not show the wobble he could feel.

"With who?"

Her displeasure was audible, and he swallowed. It was a waste of time to play games with her, and she'd already told him explicitly that she had somewhere to be. Before she could speak again, he sighed.

"She's not talking to me."

Her voice was gentle, careful. He could hear what she thought, that clear understanding of what Wraith meant to him.

"What happened?"

Elliot blinked away damp eyelashes and stared out the window at the sky as the moment played over in his head.

"Told her I love her." he whispered.

His mother was quiet. She didn't ask what had been said in return, and he didn't volunteer an explanation. How did one explain that he'd fallen asleep in bed with said friend he loved, and woken alone, without it sounding like more than it had been?

"And have you salvaged what you can?" she murmured, soothingly.

Elliot brushed his sleeve across his eyes and laughed weakly.

"I haven't tried."

"How long?"

"Two weeks."

His cheeks burned at admitting how much of a coward he was, but his mother was sensitive enough to how he must be feeling not to taunt him.

"Long enough." she said gently, and he heard rustling on her end of the line, "Good luck, Eli."

She didn't need to say anything else, he knew the words of the lecture like the back of his hand. Jeez, she'd given him it that many times, huh? As he heard her moving around again, preparing to say her goodbyes, he smiled faintly.

"Thanks, Ma."

He could hear her smiling as she hung up.

He stood and returned the phone to its cradle, rubbing the wetness from his eyes and drawing in a deep breath. His mother was right. It was time to pick over the mess he'd made and see what he could save from it.

First things first, he thought, looking down at himself, I need to look presentable.

~.~

Freshly showered, neatly dressed and with his hair artfully tousled in his favourite style, it didn't take much wandering around town to locate the shining blue robot that was his second-closest friend. Naturally, he was taking selfies with fans. Elliot felt guilty when Pathfinder spied him, screen glowing in pleasure and surprise as he waved energetically and skipped over. The eager-eyed group watched him, faces glowing as they recognised him too.

"Hello, friend! It has been much longer than usual!"

"Hey, buddy." he returned, grinning at the MRVN unit, "How you been?"

Conversation with Pathfinder was different than with Wraith. More difficult, in some ways, and easier in others. He joined him graciously for pictures before they managed to slip from their fans and take a stroll, comparing their recent activities and enjoying the sunshine.

It was a pleasant, comfortable time, and Elliot was gratefully for the robot's easy company. He felt better than he had in a long time, renewed with confidence. He'd call her, he decided absently as they walked, he'd call her and invite her over. Maybe the conversation would be less awkward at his place than somewhere more public.

Or should he visit the dorms?

As they headed back towards the centre of town where Elliot would be forced to decide whether to return to his own home, he took a breath.

"Listen, you haven't heard from Wraith lately, have you?"

"I saw her on Tuesday," the robot answered instantly, before his tone took on thoughtfulness, his screen springing a giant question mark, "but typically you will see her more frequently. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, no, everything's fine." Elliot laughed, waving off the concern, "I just… haven't heard from her."

Sometimes, Pathfinder missed social cues. Okay, maybe sometimes was being kind. But other times, other times the MRVN unit was just too darn observant for his own good. This was one of those moments, Elliot realised, as the glowing eye of his friend studied him.

He tried not to squirm.

"Have you tried to contact her?" he asked after a moment, his tone unusually serious.

"Well, we're kinda…" Elliot watched someone pass by them with recognition on their face, almost wishing they'd stop them to free him from this conversation, "not talking right now."

The robot tipped his head.

"Yourself and Wraith have fallen out?" he surmised, "That is most unusual."

"Not… not fallen out, just… not talking, I think."

Pathfinder shook his head.

"If you are not talking, should that not mean you are also not asking mutual friends how she is? My understanding is that 'Not Talking' is usually found to mean that neither party is currently interested in the life of the other."

Elliot shook his head, heating with denial.

"I'm not, I just wanna know, y'know. If she's doing okay."

Pathfinder looked at him and Elliot felt the stare, a flush rising in his face.

"If you are concerned how Wraith is, then why are you participating in Not Talking?"

Elliot resisted the urge to slam his hand against his face, because it was frustrating talking about this to Path. For one, the robot often missed social nuances, just because of his programming, but also he was right.

If Elliot was worried, if he was concerned about how long it had been since he'd last seen his best friend - and shit, she still was, wasn't she? - why wasn't he pestering her or swinging by the dorms, or inviting her over?

And the truth was, of course, that he was… afraid to. He was scared to ask her over for dinner, avoiding something he'd done a million times before, because he was scared she'd turn him down when it was something they did all the time. He felt guilty about what had happened after the party, even though there was probably no reason to, he wasn't- Nothing happened, and she was still his friend, but when he'd been with her there, he'd…

He'd slipped up. But maybe it was salvageable, still? Maybe he could explain it away as the alcohol and tell her he hadn't meant it how it sounded,that it was just… as a friend?

There was no avoiding that he'd told her he loved her. He'd hoped she was too sleepy, too drunk, to hear it, that maybe she'd forgotten. But now she was avoiding him and it was the only reason he could think of.

Crap. Why was this so complicated and confusing? She was his teammate. His best friend, one of the only two he had. There was nobody else in the world whose friendship he'd rather have, whose company he'd rather have.

His train of thought looped back along the same track, another circle, exactly as it had been for the past two weeks.

That was his problem. He wanted her around all the time, because he was stone-cold in love with her and there was nothing he could do about it. He was ruining their friendship, probably already had ruined it, because he couldn't keep his stupid heart in check.

And now she knew.

What if she knew that he was serious when he'd said it, and was staying away to make it easier for him because she didn't feel the same? What if he'd broken one of her boundaries? One of those rules she had, the ones he thought he'd learned? What if maybe she was giving him space to be with Elsie because she really was worried she'd fuck it up by being at his place too much? He wished he'd somehow slipped it into conversation that things hadn't worked out, but that would've meant explaining why and he didn't want to do that.

Although, ha, in his typical ruin-everything-good-in-his-life fashion, he'd managed to sort of do that anyway, hadn't he?

What if… What if she did let him explain, and then she told him she just… didn't want to be so close, anymore? His heart ached, squeezing painfully.

What if this was it, and she never wanted to see him again?

Elliot felt sick. This was horrible, this…. this pit, right in his soul, it felt like. He couldn't even imagine…

Really? Jeez, he was pathetic, so afraid of living without this one person around when he lucky that she'd even ever wanted to be his friend in the first place. He wished he could talk to her about it. He wished it was easier.

"… friend?"

"Sorry, Path, I just." he blew out a shaky, nervous breath, knowing he was being ridiculous, knowing he was letting insecurity get the better of him, knowing he was wallowing in self-pity. He needed to be less melancholy, for fuck's sake, she was just-

Okay, not just a girl. But the wallowing still had to stop, Jeez.

"I just…"

How to word it? How to-

"Miss her."

Ohhh gods. What!? No! Urrgh! Was his stupid mouth going to yell all his secrets to the world?

Pathfinder made a chuckling sound when Elliot face-palmed, and at least he wouldn't be getting teased for letting his stupid mouth say something like that, he sounded so pathetic.

"I just mean, uh, that I, you know. Don't like when we, uhm. Aren't talking."

Great, Witt. Stellar. Fabulous job, buddy.

"My advice is that you should fix things." Pathfinder chirped simply, "It mades me sad too that you are not on good terms. I want my best friends to be happy, not fighting! At least, not with each other!" he laughed.

Elliot smiled, and rubbed the back of his neck. He still felt nauseous, but the robot made a good point. Eventually their next Game would come and they had to be on good terms for that, if nothing else. Wraith wasn't stupid. She wasn't going to throw away their killer team dynamic, even if she didn't want to be friends. Though he hoped, of course, that he could fix what he'd broken.

Think positive, Witt.

"Alright, alright." he chuckled lamely, "I'll… talk to her."

The robot nearly crushed him, releasing him with a happy humming sound as Elliot winced and was left rubbing at his shoulder.

"What was that for?" he asked, trying hard to sound playful and watching the robot light up with a smiley face, and give a thumbs up.

"For luck, friend. I have faith that you both will sort everything. We are an optimal team."

Elliot smiled for real then, and slung his arm around Pathfinder to hug him himself. Trust the stupid robot to make him feel better.

"Thanks, buddy. I'm sure we will."

~.~