Tyrell had wanted to tell Elliot, he really had. When Elliot had been so kind to him, and taken care of him, he'd felt the guilt blackening his insides. Like a match that had just been struck, the fire coursed through him, charring everything in its wake, and every day they'd spent together since, he'd felt more and more of himself crumbling to ash.

Despite everything that had happened, and the sorry state of the world, they were happy, of that Tyrell was sure. They'd relaxed into an easy rhythm, with Tyrell spending most of him time at Elliot's. They'd learned about each other, the proper way, by talking and sharing stories. It had been nice, and a fairly new experience for both of them. Tyrell knew about Elliot's parents, and had squeezed his hand when Elliot had told him about his father's death. He'd felt like he needed to apologize, even though he knew rationally he wasn't responsible.

He'd told Elliot about his own parents, and the car crash that had claimed them so young, and so suddenly. They shared the things they'd loved, hated and missed about their families, and felt united by their grief.

Tyrell looked down at his left hand, studying the finger that had once housed his wedding ring. He'd taken it off the day after he'd stood on the edge of Elliot's roof, ready to jump. Instead of feeling sad, he'd felt optimistic. He looked back on that day like a rebirth of sorts. Elliot had pulled him back from the edge in more ways than one, and he was starting to feel the first glimmers of hope breaking through the shroud of grief that had settled heavily upon him.

Now all that was left on his ring finger was a small indent and patch of pale dry skin, the last reminder of his marriage. He'd scrubbed at it, tried to moisturise it, but it was taking its time to heal and return to normal. It was strange- when he first got married he couldn't stop playing with the ring. He wasn't accustomed to wearing jewellery, and the novelty took a while to wear off. The white gold band felt heavy with importance, and he liked to sometimes just look at it.

Eventually it just became a part of him. He never took it off, and rarely paid special attention to it. Now though, he was acutely aware of its absence, and often found himself trying to twirl the ring around his finger like he'd done in the early days. He suspected Elliot had noticed, and hoped he didn't read too much into it.

His mind jumping back to the present, he shivered. He'd planned to tell Elliot, he honestly had. He'd wanted to come clean with him, but he was a coward. He didn't want to ruin things between them; he just wanted to finally be happy. The younger man had brought him so much comfort during the hell of the last few weeks, and he wanted, needed to cling onto that. He was selfish. Now, staring at the blank space on his ring-finger he realised that Elliot was right. He didn't deserve love, or happiness.

What he'd done to Elliot was no different to what Joanna had done to him, in a way. He'd tricked him, manipulated him like a puppet. He'd spotted a weakness and struck like a predator. No, what he'd done was worse than Joanna. Oh God. He prayed that Elliot was alright, remembering with a shudder what he himself had done when faced with the awful truth of Joanna's deceit. But Elliot had Darlene there, she would look after him.

He truly felt disgusted with himself, shame squeezing around his stomach and his heart, and making him feel breathless. He fought away tears as his legs stopped moving. He felt like he was shutting down.

He looked up suddenly, realising he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going. It took him a while to get his bearings in the unfamiliar neighbourhood, but he eventually worked out he was fairly near Joanna's house.

He looked down at his watch- it was late. Joanna would probably still be up, but she'd be tired. And it was weird to stop by your ex-wife's house late at night, unannounced- especially after an argument with your new partner. Tyrell wasn't really sure what the protocol was (they'd pretty much been making up the rules as they went along), but he was fairly certain that wasn't appropriate. That said, things had been really good with them lately. They were slowly forging a comfortable friendship and moving past what had happened between them. Tyrell tried to see Otto as much as he could and Joanna had been nothing but accommodating. All in all, things were probably as good as they possibly could be on that front. He rubbed a hand roughly across his face, pacing awkwardly in circles on the sidewalk.

'Fuck it!' he thought to himself eventually, taking determined strides towards Joanna's house. She'd been his other half for thirteen years, and knew him better than anyone. Through so many ups and downs in his life she'd been his guiding light, and naturally a small part of him still felt drawn to her in times of uncertainty.

Before he knew it he was at her door, and he paused for several moments before hesitantly knocking. He didn't think she was going to answer, and was about to turn to leave when the door opened suddenly.

'Tyrell? What are you doing here?'

Hearing the concern in her voice, he immediately regretted his decision. He couldn't just run to her when he was upset. He felt like a child who'd just woken up from a bad dream, and shame coloured his cheeks.

Avoiding her gaze he mumbled, 'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here. I'm fine, really…'

'Tyrell, don't be stupid,' she scolded, 'come in.'

He froze momentarily before shuffling inside.

In the light she tried to get a better look at him. 'Tyrell, are you okay?'

He nodded. She frowned and reached out to touch his cheek.

'You have a bruise,' she said with concern. He flinched with surprise; he'd forgotten all about that, and the reminder of what happened was more painful than the pressure of Joanna's fingers on his skin.

'And you're freezing,' she remarked.

He hadn't even realised he was shivering. It was cold outside and in his rush to leave Elliot's he hadn't grabbed a jacket. She led him to the living room, and handed him a blanket which he covered himself with on the sofa. He closed his eyes while she went off to get them both a drink.

His moment of peace was interrupted when she came back, putting a glass of water on the table in front of him, and gently touching his arm.

'What happened?' she tried again.

'Nothing, everything's fine, I just wanted to see…'

'Tyrell, come on, cut the bullshit.'

'I just don't understand,' he eventually began, 'you're supposed to be able to look at your own life and feel proud of what you've accomplished, aren't you? You should be able to see how you've grown as a person, and take comfort in the lessons you've learned from your mistakes. I used to feel pride in myself, or at least I think I did. I worked hard, did everything that was expected of me, everything I could to make them proud. Make you proud. I was on a path. How was that not enough?!' he cried. She sensed he didn't really want an answer to that, and stayed quiet.

'I used to believe that I had a lot going for me, I was confident that I was doing the right thing. But now…' he trailed off, looking lost. He cleared his throat.

'Now, I don't know. I look back on the last few years and see myself as nothing but a waste. A mindless drone who used what little free will and autonomy he had to do terrible, terrible things to people. What was the point of my existence? I've made so many mistakes, and I've always told myself that I can wipe the slate clean and start again, but I think it's too late now. People can't just erase the bad they've done. It's there permanently, staining everyone and everything it touches until one day you wake up and nothing looks the same anymore.'

'Tyrell, you're starting to worry me. What is this about?'

It took him a minute or two to work out where he wanted to start, but he decided to just go for it. He told her everything he'd done to Elliot, all the awful ways he'd deceived and taken advantage of him.

When he finished her face was blank, there was no judgement clouding her features. He'd always found it comforting- the ability she had to just listen, and compose her response carefully and quietly, without letting her expressions betray her. It gave her an air of calm which always rubbed off on him. He could see her brain ticking now as she processed what he'd told her. Finally she posed him a simple question, but one that caught him off guard.

'Have you forgiven me?'

'What, I don't-'

'For how I deceived you?'

He swallowed. This was not where he'd expected the conversation to go. He took time to contemplate his response, wishing he had some of Joanna's poise. He knew his eyes were betraying his emotions. As much as he'd once prided himself on his poker-face, it was something he'd felt slip away from him in recent weeks. Where he'd once been calculated and controlled in his movements at all times, he was now an open book. Especially where Joanna and Elliot were concerned. He wasn't able to pinpoint the exact moment he started to unravel in this way, but he suspected it was sometime around the day he met Elliot. How telling that was.

'Yes, I have.'

She just smiled at him, and he felt compelled to elaborate.

'It hurts, and I'm not sure if that feeling will ever go away completely, but yes, I forgive you. I understand why you did it, and I have come to realise that holding on to ill-feeling will get me nowhere. I want us to have a good relationship, and I want to be part of our family, so I see no other way.'

'Exactly,' she nodded, like this settled everything. He looked at her in confusion, before the meaning of her words sank in.

'Joanna, this is a very different situation. I'm not sure how you can even compare the two.'

'I deceived you, you deceived him.'

'It's not that simple! And even if it were, I forgave you because I couldn't bear to lose someone who's been such a big part of my life for so long. We have a child together! Those are ties you don't just sever. I've known Elliot a few months- it would be easy for us to walk away from each other with very few repercussions.'

'You loved me, and he loves you. It's the same.'

Tyrell was starting to get frustrated by how black and white she was making the situation.

'It's not the same at all!'

'So you don't love each other?'

'Yes, we do,' he whispered, not wanting to meet her eyes. For some reason, admitting it to her made him feel guilty, though he knew it shouldn't. Again, he regretted his decision to come to her.

She ducked her head to try and meet his eyes, resting a hand on his. She felt him flinch, only slightly, and probably unconsciously, but it was noticeable nonetheless.

'It's the same,' she reiterated. 'He'll forgive you, I'm certain of it.' He wanted to believe her, he really did. He felt a sudden need to explain something to her.

'It's different, with Elliot. We were partners Joanna; we fought side-by-side. We shared a life that I treasured, and a home, but somehow we were still separate people. With Elliot, it feels like we are one. I end where he begins, and vice versa. I don't know how to explain it.'

'Well that sounds like all the more reason he won't just walk away,' she smiled, but her eyes filled with tears. Not that long ago he would have felt a strange stab of happiness at having hurt her, but now he just felt remorse.

'I'm sorry Joanna.'

'Don't be, there's no need,' she reassured him with a wave of her hand. He pulled her in gently and wrapped his arms around her. She rested her face in his chest and brought her hands around his waist. They stayed like this for several minutes, before he pulled back and cleared his throat.

'I should probably go.'

'You don't have to.'

'I should try and talk to Elliot.'

She just nodded.

After reassuring her that he wouldn't wake him up, Tyrell went upstairs to pop in to see Otto. As he watched the sleeping baby he smiled sadly. His biggest wish was that his son would grow up to make good decisions, and follow the right paths in life. He promised right then that he would always be there to offer whatever guidance he could.

Perhaps he wouldn't be able to undo the wrong he'd done in his own life, but his son's slate was blank, a beautiful white canvas. In a weird way it felt like it was the universe's way of offering him a chance at redemption. He'd be damned if he didn't do everything he could to protect his son from making the same mistakes he did.

Back downstairs, he said his goodbyes to Joanna and gave her a final hug.

'Thank you,' he whispered into her hair and she squeezed him gently in response.