Chapter Twelve: Secrets

The next day Hestia made her way stiffly into her clinic. The left side of her head contained a shaved patch to make way for the stitches that trailed towards her eyebrow. Her lip had needed a few stiches as well. She couldn't really do much work until some of her body healed from last night's events, but she didn't want to go straight to sleep. As she walked down the hall, and into the operating room, it was almost as if last night had been a dream. Falcone's men must have worked quickly to replace what the Viper Man had damaged in his wake. She walked back out towards the waiting room to be greeted with the smell of fresh new paint. It was a light seafoam green, and the new furniture accented it nicely. The waiting room door now also had a keypad on the inside, probably to have an alternative to exiting through.

The break room door had been replaced with another steel one, however, this door had a strip of meshed glassed over the handle. The blood from last night had also been cleaned, and any traces of Falcone's guards were gone from her building. Upon returning back to her living quarters, she was met with the sight of one of the last people she would ever expect to see standing in her kitchen. "Oswald? You are supposed to be dead."

He turned at the sound of her voice, and his eyes paled at her appearance. "Did…Zsasz do that to you?"

Hestia couldn't help but laugh at his question before taking a seat at her kitchen table. "No, we had some maniac patient come barreling through last night." Her facial expression turned serious as she eyed him. "You really shouldn't be here. I never know when Victor plans to come around, and I can guarantee he'll drag you straight to Falcone, unless he decides to deal with you himself." She carefully moved her neck from side to side to try to alleviate some of her soreness. The young man paced her kitchen before turning towards her. "Well, why are you here?"

"I am working for Maroni, and I wanted to know if I could secure a deal with you to help his men. You know, as good faith for him."

Hestia rubbed her temples. "Did you specifically tell him that I am not treating his men?"

He blinked at her question before breaking into a nervous smile. "Well, I had to divulge certain information to get in his good graces. Your deal with Falcone may or may not have come up."

Hestia stood and started walking towards him. He hobbled away from her until he bumped into her counter. Her aching hands latched onto his jacket as she snarled up at him, causing her fingers to boil from the pain. "So you go to Maroni after you are supposed to be dead and you snitch out Falcone to him? Then you tell him that I am purposely not helping his men because I am working exclusively for Falcone, and then you show up, break into my home and act like it is no big fucking deal?" One of her hands retrieved a knife from a drawer. "I should kill you myself or maybe I should just call Falcone. I am in no mood to deal with this bullshit, Oswald. You need to leave, and I will act as if you were never here."

Oswald eyed the knife, not knowing where this hostility was coming from. She was usually very calm with him, and was actually one of the few to be somewhat nice and accepting towards him. "I can see that maybe now isn't the best time. I will show myself out."

Hestia felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach, so she quickly opened her pantry door and shoved Oswald in before closing it. She walked over to the sink and put the knife away as she turned on the radio to a low volume. Her eyes looked towards her fridge and she opened it to make it look as if she was looking for something to eat. She soon felt his presence in the room, his cologne wafting through the door as she moved items around in her fridge.

"Have you not eaten yet?" His voice was softer than normal as he closed the space between them.

She acted surprised as she stood to face him. "I didn't hear you come in, Victor. You really shouldn't startle me since I am pretty sore still."

One of his gloved hands carefully touched the stitches on the side of her head before moving his thumb over her lip. "I haven't finished with them yet. They will pay for what they allowed to transpire to you, Hestia." He leaned in and carefully placed a kiss upon her unaffected side.

"Why don't we go out for lunch today? I think it would be nice." She carefully linked her hands with his and smiled up at him sweetly, her eyes light and playful.

"I think some rest would be better for you. I can make you something." His hand moved towards the pantry door and she grabbed his arm. His eyes looked at her in a confused state as he carefully removed her hand from his arm. "Is everything alright?" He slowly turned the knob on her pantry door, and her stomach began to fall into some deep abyss. He walked in and looked around. "Maybe I should help you shop instead. You are running rather low on food." Hestia peered over his shoulder to find her other guest missing. She shook off her confused expression before looking back at him. He had a look of deep thought in his dark eyes as he looked over her face. She was clearly hiding something. He took a step towards her and placed a gloved hand back on her face. "Are you still not adjusting to last night?"

Her eyes caught sight of the tip of one of Oswald's shoes. He had crammed himself in one of the corners of her pantry, his body hidden in the darkness. "I am fine Victor. We can go to the farmer's market and then come back and make something together."

"I only have a few hours to spare. Don Falcone allowed me some time to come make sure that you are feeling well. Do you like the adjustments he made for you?"

Hestia leaned forward and took her grocer cart from the shelf above Oswald. She linked arms with Victor and started to gently lead him away from the kitchen. One of Oswald's shoes squeaked against the shelving and Zsasz removed himself from the young red head. Her heart pounded against her rib cage and she cleared her throat. "I have been having this issue with a rat. I just can't get rid of him, maybe I should call an exterminator."

He seemed to completely disregard her presence as he drew one of his pistols. Today they were adorned with intricate swirls, and topped with silencers. He used a hand to push the door open, and Hestia almost felt like running. Who knew how upset he might be if he found out she was hiding Oswald. He listened closely to the air, allowing the radio to leave his senses. He had easily picked up on the change in Hestia's attitude since he had joined her in the kitchen, and now his suspicions were heightened. Oswald's hands had moved to his face to cover his breathing as he fought to hold his breath. As Zsasz's hand moved towards the hanging chain for the light, a loud pounding came from the front door. Zsasz's dark orbs moved towards the noise and soon his body turned as well. "Are you expecting company, Hestia?"

Her locks bounced slightly as she shook her head. "Maybe it is the police, they never showed up at the hospital." He nodded for her to go to the door, his feet moving quietly behind her. She approached the door slowly, her anxiety already askew given her other visitor still hiding in the pantry. "Who is it?"

"Falcone wants to speak with you. Are you feeling well enough to join him for brunch?"

Zsasz's jaw stiffened at the sound of the voice. Why would he send that witch when he knew that he was already with Hestia? His hand replaced his pistol into his holster, his jacket reconcealing the weapons. He reached over Hestia's shoulder and opened the door. Fish looked at first the girl before her, and then up towards the brooding man behind her. The large man was as usual, by Fish's side. "That guy really did a number on you, didn't he? Did you handle him, Victor, or did he get away like—"

"What does he need to see her for?" Zsasz had rested a protective hand on Hestia's hip as he noticed the greedy stare that Butch was giving her.

Fish shrugged as her head tilted to the side, her coy eyes drinking in the couple in front of her. "Like I said, he wants her to join him for brunch. You could probably come along too, if you want."

Hestia felt uncomfortable between the exchanges. She wondered if this is what children felt like after their parents were divorced. The group remained quiet as Hestia readjusted her hoodie. She felt like it might be inappropriate of her to go see Falcone in her pajamas still. "May I change before we go?" Anything to get her out of this tense situation.

"We'll just meet you there." Zsasz finished the conversation as he closed the door in Fish's face. "If you don't want to go, I can call the boss and tell him you are still not feeling up to visit."

Hestia shook her head, a small smile flashing in his direction. "Well, I will get to eat, and it would be nice to just relax. I can always go grocery shopping later. Why don't you help me pick out a dress or something?"

The pair made it to her bedroom, and she was thumbing through her dresses before Zsasz eyed one in particular. She pulled it out and held it up to her body. It was a simple white dress with bright flowers blooming around the bottom of the skirt. The white seemed to make her eyes more noticeable, and her hair contrasted vibrantly. Judging by his silence, she decided this would be the outfit of choice. She laid the dress out on her bed and started to painfully remove her clothing. She allowed her jacket to simply fall to the floor, along with her pajama pants. She was dreading the removal of her tank top as she slowly pulled one arm through the strap. Then she slowly followed with her other arm. She paused as her shoulders screamed at her, and she slowly twisted her neck again, the soreness unforgiving of this movement.

Zsasz moved to her and slowly bunched the tank top together before pulling it towards the floor. He felt it would be easier than lifting it up over her head. He slipped off a glove to move his fingers carefully over the dark bruising upon her left side. He was thankful she wasn't more seriously wounded as his fingers trailed from her hip up to her ribs. She let out a painful giggle before looking up at him. "Please don't. I am ticklish." She gestured to her dress. "Will you help me put it on? We can put it on the floor, and I will step into it, and then you can pull it up for me."

His hands removed the fabric from the hanger before he placed it on the floor. She placed her hands gently on his shoulders as she stepped in one foot at a time. She winced as the dress moved up her body, and it was as if it purposely snagged against every bruise. He stepped around her to zip it up, his hand stopping to touch her scars before kissing the back of one of her shoulders. He didn't like that she made him feel this way, especially since it could be a liability to his work life. "You should just leave your hair down. I don't think I can help with that." He smiled at her back before she turned.

His smile was a very rare occasion for her to catch a glimpse of, but she always let it etch itself into her memory. She headed back towards her closet and removed a simple pair of flats from her shoe rack. His eyes trailed down and he caught sight of more bruises all the way down to her ankles. He hoped that whatever drug had done that would never resurface. Although he enjoyed violence, he preferred it to be more personal. He doubted that those crazed idiots even realized what they were doing in their influenced state. He took her hand gingerly in his own as they departed from her home.

Oswald peered through a crack in the pantry door, and as soon as he knew it was safe, he hobbled out of the back door of the housing unit. His hands still shook at his close call with Zsasz. He didn't know what would have happened to him if he had been caught, and it caused the young man to shudder.