sirenspull_logs | My irreplaceable you Just to look at you

Entry tags:

My irreplaceable you Just to look at you

Who: Diego~~dot~~ Armando and Mia Fey
When: 3rd July, around 4pm.
Where: Diego and co.'s apartment.
Summary: Sometimes reunions can come as quite a shock... especially when they're unexpected. Diego comes home to find the last person he ever expected sleeping on his couch.
Warnings: Angst. And a lot of confusion.

[Mia's headache was beginning to wear off several hours after she had woken up in the middle of the baseball field and even after meeting up with Maya and beginning to let some of the situation sink in, she still couldn't get past the impression that everything was spiralling out of control in some way. It was one thing finding out you weren't dead and stranded in the middle of a thoroughly unorthodox island in Canada, it was quite another to discover that you had family in same situation.

After Mia had managed to pick at some kind of light lunch- the residual nausea hadn't gone away fully even after all this time- she had finally given in to the urge to fall asleep on the sofa. It had been too inviting not to, and on top of everything that had happened that day, she was utterly exhausted. At some point, her lap had been invaded by a small, purring ball of fur, who was doing his level best to be hospitable. Mia, however was far too deeply asleep to mind or protest.

The clock reads 3.55 pm. Mia is asleep, Maya had vanished on an errand and all is still in the apartment.]

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[He squeezes her shoulders and still can't bear to look away from her face, no matter how much he wants to. He doesn't want her to have to stare into the metal thing that is his face. Isn't it hurting her eyes to glare into red light instead of human eyes?

He smiles at her remark, one of his cryptic and impossible-to-read ones, made even more difficult to decrypt by the mask covering half of his face.]

I wouldn't quite say that, kitten.

[He has aged. So, so much... far more than five years in a coma and three wandering through life alone. He's aged decades in that time, physically and sometimes, it feels like mentally.]

It's not exactly a fashion statement.

I was going to say; it doesn't look like your kind of thing at all, unless you're going for a whole new look these days.

[That's a familiar smile, one she's always been unable to decipher. She's got so out of practice reading him, or maybe he's changed in all this time. Seven years is a long time... it is seven years, isn't it? No, it's eight. Life went on after she died, after all. She knows she'd changed in the years since she'd lost him, and then, after death, she'd gained a whole new perspective on things too.

But she knows what that smile means, even if she can't read it. It means he's keeping something to himself, and it always used to drive her crazy, and he knew. Today... it makes her sad. It makes her feel, for a brief moment, that something's not right.

She chalks it up to paranoia, but even telling herself that she still feels uneasy.]

What is it?

[The smile it fades to is a slightly more sincere one, still muted by not quite knowing what to feel in all of this. He reaches up and idly smooths his fingers over the edge of the visor.

Normally words are his greatest strength, but right now they're coming so slowly. So uselessly. Everything he can think of to say sounds stupid, inadequate. How can he possibly tell her all that's gone on in the past few years?]

My eyes.

[He shyly reaches to smooth his fingers through her hair.]

What's wrong with them?

[She lets him play with her hair, taking a brief moment to reacquaint herself to the feeling. It's been so long but it's so intimately familiar to her that it feels like it could have been just yesterday that he last did this. She won't let it distract her, she's still looking at him carefully, at the strong line of his jaw and the tip of his nose poking out from under that strange visor he's wearing. It's so strange to be looking at him and not meeting those dark brown eyes she knows so well.

The doctors had said there'd be complications if he ever woke up. She'd been numb to most of it at the time, listening mutely as they listed worst case scenario after worst case scenario, but looking at him now she can't see how any of that could have-

Of course she can't see any damage. He's hiding it.]

How bad are they?

[He twirls a strand around his finger idly, still taking in the little subtleties of her face. It was amazing how well he could remember them all even after this long. How often had he thought about her these years? His memories of her had never faded, not even a little bit.

He doesn't answer her questions for a moment, lowering his head slightly. Without speaking, he reaches for her hands and guides them up to his face, pressing her fingers to either side of the visor. With a gentle tug it lifts, the lights flickering off as it comes away in her hands.

There's a scar across his nose now, thin and healed over, and his eyes are closed. He opens them to glance in her direction-- a blind glance, through her rather than at her, the dark brown of his eyes long faded, muted and milky.

There is no mistaking it. He's blind.]

[She's surprised when he moves her hands to the visor, even more surprises when he shows her how to take it off.

It feels lighter than she thought it would.

She takes a second to look at it, at the strange technology that is so completely alien, then looks up at his face and she can't help the small, surprised sound that's half way between a sob and a gasp as she sees what's become of his face.]

Oh Diego, sweetheart...

[She's not a doctor, but she knows what she sees. The visor rests in one hand as she brushes her fingers against his cheek again, traces the end of the scar as it creeps across towards his cheek. He looks haunted and tired, she doesn't recognise the lines on his face anymore and she feels both grief and fury churning in her stomach.

Dahlia Hawthorne, if she could hunt you down and convict her a thousand times more for this, she swears she would.

It was too much to ask that she'd get the man she loved back whole from all of that.

But he's here. This is going to be hard, but he's here and he's alive and awake, and it changes nothing. She takes a long look at his face, noting the changes, sees how he looks older than his time but he carries it all around his poor, ruined eyes.

She doesn't realise how long she's said nothing, but when she does her voice is tight in her throat. She wants to cry again but she doesn't think she has it left in her today.]

...I never should have let you go alone. I'm so sorry.

Edited 2012-07-06 05:58 (UTC)

[He can't remember the last time he felt so anxious, standing there in silence and unable to see, unable to guess what she's thinking. How disappointed she must be to see him like this, faded and tired, a mere shadow of the man he used to be. He opens his lips once or twice, as though to speak, but it's an utterly empty motion. He has no words.

Diego manages to keep his face calm and stoic, the way he always used to be able to when he was a defense attorney. But when she says his name, calls him "sweetheart"- his eyes close quickly and he can't hide the emotion on his face-- shame, sorrow and heartbreak. He lowers his face, reaching to wrap his arms around her again, a slow and awkward motion since he can't see where she is, precisely.]

I was arrogant. It wasn't your fault, kitten, it was...

[His. All his. This was what he deserved. His comeuppance for his arrogance and pride.]

Edited 2012-07-06 06:10 (UTC)

[She meets him halfway, steps into his arms and meets his hesitance with nothing but her own lack of reservations. It's not quite right, he's a little off, but she adjusts herself and holds him again, the visor still in her hands and resting against his back.]

I know, I know. But I got her, Diego. It took me a little while to do it and I was too late to save the poor guy she suckered in before Phoenix, but I caught her and I exposed her for the murdering little witch she was in front of everyone.

[She turns her head towards him, unaware that he's blaming himself, and she quickly presses a kiss against his jaw, the only place she can reach with him holding her like this, and clutches his shirt with her free hand.]

And you don't have to tell me you're arrogant, I still remember that much.

[His eyes are still closed. He'd rather do that and feel semi-normal than to leave them open and blind, underlining the fact that they're useless. He holds her close as though if he lets her out of his arms, she'll vanish back into thin air.]

I know you did. I read all about it. You made quite a name for yourself.

[At that, he lets out a weak laugh, the slightest of smiles on his lips.]

Heh... So much for that little kitten in the lion's den. You were the queen of the jungle.

[She laughs back, face pressed against his shoulder. Oh god, it's one of his stupid cat analogies and she'd forgotten he used to just throw them in there in casual conversation- along with the coffee metaphors- and deep down she knows it's going to be okay. Blind though he may be, aged though he may be, he's still the irrepressible Diego Armando she remembers.]

I never would have got there if it hadn't been for you.

[She sighs against him, composing herself and letting him get his fill of holding her while she does the same. Half an hour ago and she hadn't even had the foggiest idea that he was here and now...

What's he doing here in Maya's apartment anyway?

...oh it doesn't matter. Obviously they know each other, and the fact that he comes and goes easily from her little sister's place makes her smile against his shirt. Of course Maya would like him. Of course he'd like her. She always knew they would get along, when they eventually met.

And she'd missed it.]

I told you in person, you know. Every time I won a trial. It's probably a good thing you don't remember that, the reruns were a little repetitive.

Ha...! All I did was give you a little nudge.

[He reaches up, awkwardly smoothing a hand over the back of her hair. He reaches for her hands again, guiding her to putting the visor back over his eyes-- Diego wants to see more of her. He's waited so long to see her.

Once his visor is back in place, the lights flicker back on and he looks noticeably less nervous. Being unable to see makes him a little more stilted and uncomfortable. Getting his vision back at least allows him not to worry about what's going on around him, how much his face gives away or what her expression looks like.]

I wish I remembered your visits. [He wishes he could remember any of that time, any of it at all. It was all just a long, deep sleep to him.

It's much easier to talk about the present than the past. Smiling at her, he reaches up to stroke her hair again.]

When did you get here? Are you all right?

[She's glad he doesn't remember. Most of the early ones hadn't been pretty, she'd been full of grief and anger and denial in those first few weeks, there'd been ugly words slung around and even uglier sobbing on his bed and she'd clung to his hand and called him every name under the sun for not being awake to chastise her for it. They'd mellowed as time went by, as she picked up her life again and went back to living it instead of wasting away in his hospital room along side him.

She had had a job to do, and he would have hated to have seen her like that.

The visor goes back on and he relaxes, and Mia takes a moment to appreciate the smile on his face. She returns it with one of her own, but she doesn't let go of his hands when the visor's back in place.]

I got here this morning. I'm concussed, I'm confused and I think I want-

[She stops herself from saying "to sleep until next Thursday," because that is not going to go over well, she imagines, and she just got him to smile again.

She covers her faux pas with a laugh, because suddenly, looking at his smile, she feels strangely giddy.]

I think I really, really need a cup of coffee.

[He's probably glad he doesn't remember either. He's had far too many nightmares about being trapped in a body that can't move, can't speak and can't be seen as awake, watching the world go by around him. If he had any memories from his coma, they probably looked a lot like that.

When she says she's concussed, he tightens his hands around hers almost automatically. He won't allow himself to think too hard about what could have caused that, because if he does he might be physically ill. He tugs her over towards the sofa again, as though insisting she sit down.]

You came to the right place. I'll make you something to help.

[Mia answers his tight grip with a much gentler squeeze of her own, and almost makes a face when he steers her back to the sofa. She'd argue that she doesn't need to sit or need to be babied, she's fine, but that sofa and its squishy cushions looks extremely tempting and she complies.

For a moment, before he answers, she wonders for a second if bringing up coffee was a good idea, wonders if he even drinks the stuff anymore... but Diego Armando's passion for coffee is a force of nature not to be underestimated.

Thank god.

Diego without coffee is unthinkable.]

I had a feeling I'd found the right man for the job.

[She's barely been on the sofa for a minute before she's joined by her former nap buddy. She smiles and brushes her hand over the cat's black head, scratching the base of his ears. He starts purring and Mia looks enchanted.]

Hello again, you. Are you going to treat my lap a little better this time around, handsome?

[She looks from the cat to Diego, her eyes soft as she directs her smile at him, not saying anything.]

Edited 2012-07-06 14:59 (UTC)

[Surely you jest, Mia. Diego Armando without coffee? Perish the thought! He steps into the kitchenette, crowded with coffee machines, and starts to pick up the carafes. Three of them have gone off on his timers and he's trying to choose the one she'll like the best. He decides on a carafe of #29, a calm and smooth blend that can be as soothing as milk when seasoned right.

He doesn't even need to ask what she needs in her coffee. He still remembers.]

I hope Mir was behaving himself. He's a little charmer most of the time, but fickle as cats are...

[He steps over to the couch with two mugs in hand, handing her the one that he's seasoned with milk and sugar. His is blacker than a moonless night, of course. It's amazing how his confidence rises when he has a cup of coffee in hand.]

I suppose Maya brought you here.

[For a second, when he talks about Mir behaving himself, she thinks he's referring to her until she hears the 'he' part. Oh boy; the cat having a similar sounding name could be fun. He's purring like a jackhammer and completely content to be petted by the look of him. She scratches under his chin with a fingertip and the cat obligingly lifts his chin for more.]

He's been a very attentive boy, but I'm not sure my legs appreciate being used as a launching pad, he's got an impressive set of claws on him.

[When Diego returns with the coffee, the scent of coffee is almost overwhelming. For the first time in a very long time though, it doesn't make Mia's gut clench with a painful stab of grief and the acute sense of loss. She takes the proffered cup in both hands and notes how much more comfortable he looks in his own skin now that coffee has been applied to the situation.

She closes her eyes and inhales; she'll never be as good as he is at identifying his blends, but the rich, full scent of coffee is something she's not enjoyed for a very long time now. It's a relief to see that he added milk. She hasn't had a cup of coffee since he last made her one that morning, Diego likes his coffee strong and she's fairly certain that it would be a bad idea to be jumped up on caffeine with a concussion.

Shifting the cup to hold it by the handle with one hand, she then shifts slightly to make room for him to sit beside her as she answers while waiting for her coffee to cool; she doesn't want to add a burnt tongue to her list of ailments.]

She came to get me from the hospital- I thought it would probably be a good idea to get myself checked out to be on the safe side, and the doctor seemed to know her so he gave her a call to let her know I was here.

Ha...! Yeah, he does that from time to time... but cats wouldn't be much fun if they didn't have claws. That's one of my rules.

[He sits beside her and wastes no time in taking a long sip of coffee. Even with just a sip, it feels like the tension is leaving him as the warmth slides down his throat.

Here he is. Sitting on the couch, having coffee with Mia Fey. There's something he never thought he'd get to do again.]

Must have been Yumeno. He's a good guy.

[Mia doesn't need to know how Diego knows him just yet. He thinks they'd both better take it slowly. Both of them being alive, conscious and well is enough of a novelty for now.]

You're-- welcome to stay here with us, of course. That should go without saying.

[Mia is still waiting for her coffee to cool, and as she continues to pet Mir with one hand, she's also watching Diego from beneath half lidded eyes. Diego Armando with a cup of coffee in hand. Even though it's not the same, even though his face has changed and that visor is still new enough to be surprising when she catches sight of it.]

Dr. Yumeno... I think that's what he said his name was, he was very young. I liked him though, he seems like a very good doctor.

[She blows on the surface of her coffee and then lifts the cup to her lips, taking her first sip of the drink she hasn't touched for over five years. It's cool enough to drink, and the familiar, full-bodied flavour is deliciously nostalgic. She hums her approval as she feels that first gulp warm her entire body. Before she puts the cup down on the nearest surface, she inhales the scent again, deeply appreciative. No one makes coffee like Diego Armando.

That's why she couldn't drink it.

At his proposal that she stay, Mia smiles and tilts her head, her smile playful.]

Do your rules allow for you to pick up stray kittens off the street when they can't even help out with the rent?

He is. [And he'll leave it at that.

He watches her take the first sip to make sure he still remembered how to make her coffee properly, and he does. With a weak smile he sips his own cup again, leaning back to relax on the couch and glancing over at her.]

That's the same way I ended up with both Maya and little Vladimir. I don't see any reason to make an exception for you.

[Ahh, so this is his apartment. Now she has a better handle on the situation, Mia can't help but feel grateful to him for everything he must have done for Maya.]

Thank you. Not just for me, for Maya too. I'm glad you two found each other, it felt like the loneliest place in the world when I didn't know a soul here. I still can't believe that there are so many people from home who were taken here.

[He looks better now, less stunned and knocked for six by everything. She doesn't blame him, she's still a little stunned herself by everything. But it's going to be okay now, they're both here and that's what matters.

There's so much she's going to have to figure out; she'll need to find out exactly what's happening in this city, find work, get some more clothes... it's a daunting task, but one she's looking forward to. ]

It won't be rent free for long, I'll try and find work by the end of the week. I guess a place like this is crying out for lawyers, right?
It's going to be nice to get back to work myself instead of having to watch from the sidelines.

[She picks up her coffee and takes another sip, before changing her tack.]

So come on, you're holding out on me. I want to know everything, what have you been doing with yourself since you woke up? Did Grossberg take you back or did you set up on your own? And what have you been doing here, you must have made a name for yourself, knowing you.

[It's presumptuous of her to assume he went back to the law, but she can't imagine him doing anything else. He's Diego Armando after all, he was the best.]

[He smiles sedately at her thanks, nodding his head.] I never got to meet her with you, but... I couldn't just leave her to fend for herself in a place like this.

[And he shakes his head at her worries about paying rent.] You don't need to worry so much. We've got everything under control while you get situated. It isn't as though you'll be a burden or anything so silly.

[And then... she asks that. He looks like he's about to answer, but he goes quiet. There are a lot of questions in that little statement, and not all of them are easy to answer-- several of them he doesn't even want to answer. But it's not as though he can smoothly avoid such obvious questions, like what he does for a living or how things went for him since waking up.

His silence must be telling, so it's only after a moment or two too long for it to be natural that he answers.]

It's a long, boring story.

[And he knows very well that's not going to work for long.]

[Mia waits.

And waits.

The way he goes so completely still and quiet after she asks that, the way he doesn't even attempt to answer and leaves her hanging... Mia takes another sip from her coffee to fill the silence and is sure that he'll answer soon.

...only he doesn't.

The non-answer surprises her and she frowns a little, confused.]

Well how about a condensed version?

[Yeah. He should have known better than to even try that. He smiles a bit sheepishly at her for even attempting. He goes quiet for a moment, trying to come up with the way he wants to answer, finally taking a breath and leaning his head back.]

I'm a prosecutor now.

Oh.

[That... is not exactly what she was expecting to hear from him, nor is it a career path she'd ever imagined he steer himself onto. She looks at him, tries to get a read on his posture and body language. It's so much harder to do with his face behind that mask.

Why is the most pressing thing right now. He loved being a defense attorney, he loved what he did and he was good at it, why would he give it up?

And why would he take so long to answer her?

She doesn't feel entirely at ease, something feels strange, but it's been so long that maybe she's being paranoid. Finally she answers.]

Prosecutor Armando? It has a nice ring to it.

[She looks at him again, and can't help but ask the question she suspects she may not get a straight answer for.]

Why the change?

[Sometimes he's still in disbelief at himself, too. Defense was his passion-- and it still is. But how can he explain it to her, his protege, the reason why he was no longer worthy to practice it?

And that's not even mentioning his petty, childish other reason for switching sides in the courtroom-- the one where he swore vengeance on Mia's protege for something so stupid it still bothered him that it had ever been his own delusion.]

I just... didn't feel up to it anymore. But I wanted to stay with the law.

[He looks down at the carpet for a moment. He can still see her out of the corner of his visor, but it looks like he's looking elsewhere.]

I'm sure you must be disappointed in me.

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