Trigger Warning: reference to past child abuse & domestic abuse

"History is hereditary only in this way: we, all of us, inherit everything, and then we choose what to cherish, what to disavow, and what to do next, which is why it's worth trying to know where things come from."
― Jill Lepore

"You know, I think that's the most you've ever told me about Nicole."

Yumiko fought hard not to stiffen at the name. There was something wrong about it falling from Magna's lips. Having any connection at all to her. The worst person in her life, contaminating the best. The past poisoning the present. "I've told you more than that."

They'd had entire conversations.

"I mean about what she was really like. What she was like to you. Usually, I just get the cliff notes version. This was different. I didn't know she was like that."

The ice in her blood spread further, thickening. Hardening.

The statement was so ambiguous it could mean almost anything. But she'd rather it not mean anything at all.

"Like what?"

"My dad." Magna shifted, turning onto her front. The action had a forced sense of casualness. "He got off on hurting people too."

Yumiko knew far too much about that. Remembered trailing her fingers over Magna's body and hearing the stories of broken bones. Bruises wrapped up in pretty lies.

"Nicole wasn't like your father. She was. . . "

Nicole.

An entity unto herself.

And her weapon of choice had always been words. Not fists.

"She wasn't like him."

From the thin press of Magna's mouth, she clearly didn't believe her. Yumiko watched as a shadow darkened her gaze. A tired kind of regret. "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you were having second thoughts."

Yumiko stilled. "About?"

Though she already knew the answer.

"Us."

She'd thought they'd put this conversation to bed. If anything, after everything that had just been said between them, she was even further away from second thoughts than she had been when knocking on Magna's door.

She felt. . .

At ease. Like the tangled knot of conflict in her chest had finally come undone.

But apparently their conversation had exhibited the opposite effect on Magna.

Yumiko studied the look on her face. That conflicted shadow, softened by wariness.

"Hey," Yumiko frowned, reaching out and lightly touching her cheek. "Are you having second thoughts?"

Because she'd seen that look before. Far too often. And could well remember what had always followed.

Magna. Running.

Again.

You said you were done running.

But then she'd known. She'd known that wasn't likely to be true. That it might never be true.

(still, Yumiko couldn't deny the spawning disappointment, twisting in her chest)

Magna looked caught at the question. "I. . . don't want to hurt you again."

"Then don't lie to me and you won't."

Simple enough.

Magna said nothing, picking at the skin on her hand.

"You've lied to me about other stuff," Yumiko guessed, after the silence had grown thick. Too thick. Noxious enough to choke on.

"Probably. . . I don't know for sure."

She still wouldn't meet her eyes.

Yumiko swallowed. "Stuff to do with me?"

"No."

The answer was instant and she released a breath. "Okay." She nodded. "That's okay."

Because she had a fairly good idea what kind of things Magna would have lied to her about - and they weren't the kind of things that Yumiko felt she had any right to.

She could also remember what had happened when they'd first gotten together.

The lies that had come up.

Lies that she wished hadn't come up but which she could more than understand the existence of. Those lies had hurt them both, but their nature had made them forgivable the moment they were exposed.

She could forgive more lies like that, even if she'd rather not have to.

Magna sighed, sitting up. "It's not."

And that self-recriminating edge had returned to her features, though this time it was blunted by exhaustion. Defeat.

Rising as well, Yumiko searched around for something to say, something to banish that look from her face. "I'm guessing that these lies would have been mostly at the beginning of our friendship?"

"Mostly."

"Yeah," Yumiko exhaled, mouth turning up wryly. "That doesn't really surprise me."

Magna's brow furrowed. "It doesn't?"

"Magna, with the amount of walls you were putting up back then, it's not exactly shocking that more than a few of them might have been bricked with lies."

She hoped to gain a smile with the words, or to at least ease some of the tension, but Magna's gaze remained heavy. Dark. And Yumiko knew that this wasn't going to be an easy thing for her to let go of. To accept.

Ironic, given the fact that Yumiko so easily had.

Magna looked down, studying her fingers pressed into the mattress, splayed out, holding her up. Yumiko found herself drawn to that same point of focus, examining the indentations they made under her weight. Resisted the urge to reach out and take hold of them. To ease the tension she could see in the hard press of Magna's nails.

Instead, she waited for her to speak.

"Lying. . . it comes easy to me," Magna started. "Easier than telling the truth. I had to make it come easy. I honestly don't remember a time before I knew how to lie. I had to lie. And I stopped feeling guilty about it before I even hit double digits. . . But I've always felt guilty about lying to you." She looked up, meeting her eyes, holding them, something like a warning darkening her gaze. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't come easy still. Too easy."

"Magna-"

She looked down again, jaw clenching. "And I mean it was just what people did. What I assumed everybody did. Nobody tells the truth." Magna's eyes drew up, locking with hers. "Except you. . . You always told the truth. I didn't know what to do with that. When I met you. For a long time, I couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe you."

"I know."

The lack of trust had been obvious from the very start. Her conviction that every one of Yumiko's actions bore ill intent, if she could only find it. Find her angle. The darkness at her center.

She'd spent years waiting for the other shoe to drop. All of Yumiko's attempts to convince her that there was no other shoe had only made her more suspicious.

( 'If I like someone, if someone likes me. . . that's usually the first sign I shouldn't trust them.')

Magna nodded slowly, absorbing the look on her face - the thoughts Yumiko had made no effort to conceal. "My Mum lied. Constantly. Every day. Most of her lies were the same. Repetitive. . . . Lying and not saying shit - she taught me that. She had to teach me that. It's what you do. When you want to stay safe. When you want the people you care about to stay safe too. You lie. And you don't say shit."

Yumiko's heart clenched, imagining the little girl who had been given that message, and all the ways the world might have chosen to deliver it. Enforce it.

Magna must have read that thought on her face because she grimaced, and hastily continued. "That's not. . ." She let out a frustrated breath, "I'm not telling you this to get sympathy. Or to excuse what I did. Because it doesn't. And that lie wasn't about staying safe that was about me being a fucking coward. Selfish. I'm telling you this because I need you to understand. I just. . . I lie. I've always lied. And even though I don't want to anymore, it's not the kind of thing you just stop. It's not the kind of thing I know if I can stop."

The confession hung in the space between them. And Yumiko would be lying if she said it didn't leave her with a sense of unease. Disquiet about the future.

It was what she'd been worried about, after all. That there were more lies. That there would always be more lies.

That she couldn't trust the woman that she loved.

And could never hope to.

At the same time. . . she had to wonder if Magna wasn't being a little hard on herself. Assuming the worst - and presenting that worst to Yumiko on a silver platter so that she would have no choice but to see it. So that she would leave. Leave now, before they got in too deep. Again.

It would be Classic Magna.

"You can try," Yumiko murmured. "You can try to stop. Just because it seems impossible doesn't mean that it is. What's the last thing that you lied to me about?"

Magna's brow furrowed. "The stash."

Right. Another conversation they would probably have to have in the future.

Yumiko was still fucking pissed about that.

"But nothing since?"

Magna's look was wry. "Hasn't exactly been a lot of opportunity. This is the most we've spoken in months."

"Did you lie to me tonight?"

Magna frowned, hurt and defensiveness crowding her features. "No."

She wasn't understanding Yumiko's point, what she was trying to say. "I think you have more control over this than you want to admit. And I don't think you'll lie to me again - not about something like Lawson or the stash," she amended, because there were still parts of Magna's past that she guarded religiously. And that was okay. She wasn't alone in that. "I think if you're presented with that kind of choice again, you'll choose differently. Because you have changed. I can see that. Even if you can't."

"Yeah, well. You've always been biased when it comes to me. Always seen the best. Even when it wasn't there."

Yumiko frowned. "I think we're going to have to disagree on that."

"Sure." Magna lifted a shoulder. "But it's still the truth."

She gritted her teeth. "Well. . . it goes both ways. If I'm biased, so are you. You don't see yourself clearly. You never have."

Irritation flashed in Magna's eyes. "I see myself well enough. Better than you."

Yumiko scoffed. "You're the world's harshest judge - especially when it comes to yourself. And I think we both know how biased judges can be."

You went to prison because of it.

Magna looked away. "I'll lie to you again. I know I will. Because there's too much I can't tell you. And one day you'll ask me something. . . and I'll lie. I won't even think about it. Not until after."

"Or you could just say no comment."

She stared at her.

Yumiko raised a brow, mouth turning up. "Much more diplomatic. Seems to work for public figures."

"Miko, I'm serious."

"So am I." She smiled, nudging her shoulder. "No comment works wonders. You should really take more advantage of it."

Magna's features softened a moment and Yumiko could tell that she wanted to give in. To the teasing. To her. But still. . . she held back.

Yumiko hesitated, humor fading as it failed to garner the desired response. "I've kept things from you as well, you know. Things that I wasn't comfortable with you knowing. I'm still keeping things from you. . . But it's something you've always understood. And I understand this."

Magna's resolve faltered, cracks appearing in her eyes, deep enough for Yumiko to see - before they sealed once more.

She shook her head. "It's not just about the lies, Miko. You know that. I'm talented enough at fucking up to do it in all kinds of different ways. I hurt you when we first got together. And I hurt you before the cave. Not just with the lie. I could hurt you again."

"Maybe." It was a possibility. "Maybe you won't. And maybe I'll hurt you. That's the risk we'd have to take and one I'm willing to take. Are you?"

Magna's mouth thinned. "I decided I was before I asked for that dance. Decided I'd never hurt you again. But then I remembered. . . I never mean to hurt the people that I do. Never mean to fuck up. But that doesn't stop me from doing it."

"So. . .?"

"So you deserve better than that."

"I think I can decide what I deserve." She looked down, wrapping her hand around Magna's. "I also think you need to stop imagining the worst-case scenario and start picturing the best instead. And to be really honest with you, Magna, I don't think you'll hurt me again. Not like that. If I did, I wouldn't be here."

There was a limit to how many second chances she was willing to give out.

"What makes you so sure?"

"You," Yumiko murmured. "This conversation. And everything leading up to it. I think you hate what happened too much to ever do it again. And all this? This fear? Only confirms that for me."

She could see the words getting through, the strength of Magna's resistance crumbling - but still refusing to give way entirely.

She didn't know what else to do to get it to fall. Could only hope that this would prove to be enough. If Magna just gave it a moment to sink in.

Yumiko waited, watching her closely, searching her gaze for some indication of what she could say to convince her. She was good at winning arguments, had built a career on it - and she would win this one.

". . . I don't want to be like them." The confession came quietly, weakly, like Magna was ashamed to even give it voice, to breathe life to this fear.

There was no need to ask who she was talking about.

Yumiko clenched her hand, mirroring the sudden clench of her heart. "You're not."

Could never be.

Magna scoffed.

"I mean it. Do you think Nicole was ever afraid about hurting me? That she agonized over whether or not to continue our relationship because of the possibility that she would? Do you think your father was afraid? That he would have been willing to walk away if it meant protecting your mum?"

Magna's mouth thinned.

"You're not like them. You never could be. You fucked up. And you hurt me. And it will take time for me to fully forgive you for that. But it's not the same."

"You're so sure of that?"

"As sure as I've ever been of anything. You'd have an easier time convincing me of the existence of Bigfoot than that you could ever be anything like them."

"Hey, Bigfoot is the real deal. He's out there." Yumiko was gratified to see that some of the darkness had disappeared from her features, that even a feeble attempt at humor had crept into the line of her mouth. "I mean. . . Probably not now. Poor schmuck probably got eaten. But before."

"Magna, I can accept a lot about you. But being a Bigfoot believer might just be the limit."

"Wait until you hear my theories about Nessie."

"Oh God."

Magna's smile grew a moment as she watched her - the twist in Yumiko's expression as her features folded into an exaggerated grimace - before that smile faltered. Faded.

The light in her eyes growing dim once more.

And Yumiko knew that she hadn't won. Hadn't won the argument. That this momentary diversion had been just that: momentary.

Magna's next words only confirmed it.

"What if you're wrong?"

There was so much vulnerability in that one question - so much fear - that she had to take a moment to breathe. To banish the image of Magna's father from her mind. The man who had caused so much damage, so early - to the person he should have protected the most.

Yumiko hardened her jaw. "I'm not."

Magna looked away.

She gripped her hand, squeezing it just on the far side of too hard, demanding her gaze back. "I thought you said you were done running?"

"This isn't me running."

"Yes. It is. You run because you're afraid of getting hurt or because you're afraid of hurting someone else. Tell me that's not what this is."

Magna hesitated. Her mouth opened-

Closed.

Yumiko loosened her grip a little. "Look, I get it. You didn't realize how much you'd hurt me and now you do. And that's hard. And scary. I get that. But if you run you'll hurt me even more. . . If you don't want to be in this relationship, if you don't want to try, then I'll accept that. I'll back off. But what I won't accept is you running again because you're scared. If you want to be with me, be with me - and stop swinging me back and forth like a goddamn yo-yo."

Magna stared at her. "Been waiting a long time to say that?"

Yumiko snorted. "You have no idea."

She watched the faint twitch of Magna's mouth, the way it broke apart the heavy set of her features - but did nothing to alleviate the dimness in her eyes.

Yumiko gazed into those eyes, a decision unfolding in her chest - even as her heart grew rigid, pleading against it.

"You need to decide, Magna. Are you in, or out?"

She looked down, gaze finding Yumiko's hand. As the silence stretched on, she reached for it slowly, turning it over in hers, examining it, back and forth, over and over. "Are you sure?"

Yumiko's brow furrowed. "You're asking me if I'm sure? I'm not the one being indecisive here."

"I just. . . I need to know that you're sure. That you want this."

Want me.

Shaking her head, she bent down, catching Magna's chin with her fingers. "I've never wanted anything more in my life."

Those eyes met hers, wider than normal, if only by a fraction. Then slowly, her mouth drew up. "Same. . . I honestly think that's the part that's always scared me most. How much I want this. Want you." She settled her hand against Yumiko's, sealing its hold on her chin. "I'm in."

She closed her eyes, exhaling. Despite the firmness of her ultimatum, she hadn't been entirely confident of what answer she would receive. That Magna would find the courage to choose them over her fear.

She knew that the commitment was fragile. That, as much as Magna might be convinced of her words now, doubt would probably find her again in the future. Possibly even the very near future. They'd been doing this too long for Yumiko to believe otherwise.

But it was a start.

Hopefully, as time went on, that doubt would lose its power, grow weaker. Maybe one day it would cease to exist altogether. But for now they had a starting point.

For now, she knew Magna was just as determined as her to see this through. As long as that was the case, they could deal with whatever came next.

"Good." Yumiko smiled. After a moment, she threaded their fingers together, giving a gentle tug. "Now come lie back down."

Settling upon the mattress, she waited for Magna to do the same, watching her expectantly.

Magna hesitated, hand stiff in hers, before exhaling and following her path down. She kept a careful width of space between them - not a cavernous amount but enough so that they were only partially touching. Like she was afraid to get too close.

Or didn't know if she was allowed to.

Unacceptable.

Yumiko brought their clasped hands to her lips, kissing her knuckles. Watching as some of the tension eased in Magna's features, if not the rest of her. "I'm in too."

As if it needed to be said. As if there was any doubt.

But the edges of Magna's mouth flickered, drew up anyway. Some of the wariness receding from her gaze.

Setting Magna's palm against her cheek, holding it in place, holding it to her, Yumiko smiled.

Watched Magna's grow, the muscles in her hand relaxing.

They were in this.

"I am better able to imagine hell than heaven; it is my inheritance, I suppose."
— Elinor Wylie

A/N: So I think it's a pretty common experience when you've been abused as a child to fear that you'll one day turn into your abuser. And to see anything that could remotely relate to them or the abuse as proof that you're like them.

Like for instance, I refused to let myself feel anger or display anger until I was in my 20s because I was convinced that if I did, I would be like them.

So that's sort of what Magna is struggling with in this chapter.