Yeah, he had been in prison. It felt good to voice it aloud to someone who hadn’t been there with him, but he also braced himself for how she might now look at him differently than she had before. He was a different person now, in some ways. He would have this on his record for the rest of his life, and hell, he couldn’t even vote. It felt like he was walking in someone else’s shoes - someone who he no longer recognized.

She didn’t immediately run, though. Instead, Sveta grabbed his sleeve and pulled him out of the way of the sirens and cops pulling up to the scene. It was a good call.

"Ten months. There was a hearing that took a bit,” a bit of time he could have called her in, which he admitted with a wince, "and I got released two weeks ago.”

His eyes narrowed as she asked whether he’d broken out. "No, I got bail. I want to start my life again, not spend it on the run forever.... Although my parole officer is gonna have a fit after this fiasco. Who robs a bodega?"

>>"Ten months. There was a hearing that took a bit, and I got released two weeks ago.”

Who got ten months for a DUI? Matt had to have a whole lot of things stacked against him for things to get that bad. Non wonder he seemed embarrassed about it. Or maybe there was more to the story than he was willing to admit. Not that it was that hard to believe that the justice system sucked.

They found another alley to continue the conversation in. Now that she knew Matt had been in prison, walking away from the cops seemed an even better idea.

>>"No, I got bail. I want to start my life again, not spend it on the run forever.... Although my parole officer is gonna have a fit after this fiasco. Who robs a bodega?"

"Desperate dumbasses, that's who." Sveta rolled her eyes. They were not even mutants, just people who wanted to make easy cash. In a town crawling with superpowered vigilantes.

Now that they found another place to talk, she let go of Matt's sleeve, and folded her arms again. She was still digesting the new that he had been in prison, and not... "And here I was thinking you'd done the smart thing and walked away."

Had things gone down differently, Matt couldn’t help but dream about what his life might have looked like at this time. He and Sveta might’ve been able to make things work, and he might’ve found a better job with better pay and better hours. Now, he’d be lucky to keep anything he still had.

"And here I was thinking you'd done the smart thing and walked away."

"I wouldn’t have done that, Sveta," he said. He wanted to believe that he was a good guy deep down. Besides, he wouldn’t have let her go that quickly or easily. "You were... still on my mind, you know. Still are... I just... couldn’t drag you down with me.”

That was it, really. It had been embarrassing and difficult, and it was easier for Matt to go back to having no ties anywhere than to include people in the collateral while his life exploded. It was better for her if she didn’t have to experience that, in the end.

"I’m not going to blame you if you want to walk away now, though. I mean, I’m sure you don’t want to be caught with an ex-con,” Matt offered with a self-depreciating smirk. That night had already ruined his life for a year, so why shouldn’t it keep ruining it in the future?

If she had had proof that Matt walked away because she told him to, it still would have hurt. A lot. But at least in that case there was some kind of a compensation in having done something selfless and heroic, a thing Sveta was not generally used to. She'd told him to go, so she couldn't be angry at him for taking her up on the offer.
Except, he didn't. He went and got himself arrested instead.

>>"I wouldn’t have done that, Sveta. You were... still on my mind, you know. Still are... I just... couldn’t drag you down with me.”

Sveta stared at him, bewildered. He wouldn't have done it... but he kind of did. He could have let her know he was in jail. He could have. Right?...

>>"I’m not going to blame you if you want to walk away now, though. I mean, I’m sure you don’t want to be caught with an ex-con,”

Sveta blinked, still staring. It was the last thing he said that broke things. She let out an incredulous laugh, shaking her head in disbelief. Some of her hair fell loose from the bun she'd pulled it into for her nightly patrol. "Is that was you think?" it was like some kind of a horror movie mirror, getting the same argument thrown back at her that she'd used a year before. And he looked like he meant it too. He was actually ashamed.

We are both messed up people

"Matt, you incredible f*** idiot, I have been much worse than an ex-con."

There was an act of understanding in the way that Matt built up his exit from his prison sentence. He had run over it again and again in his head with all that time he had alone to think, but nothing he could picture had him anywhere near where he was standing then. Sure, he had some idea that things wouldn't be all sunshine and rainbows when he got back out, but he never thought that Sveta would want anything to do with him once he got out. It only made sense that she would want to run since he'd ghosted her so unceremoniously.

Instead, though, she was appalled at the idea that she might be repulsed by him. Matt ran his hands through his hair, letting out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Sveta had been through a lot in his life, so Matt really should have realized that his record wouldn't bother her. Hell, he'd just watched her shoot a guy with his own gun in the middle of NYC. If anything, she probably had a far worse image than he did.

"You're right, I don't know what I was thinking," Matt admitted, his smirk turning into a semi-smile. She never failed to surprise him around every corner.

So there they were, having both just experienced a robbery a year after everything they'd been through together. It seemed like wherever the two of them were, trouble seemed to follow. Still, Matt had seen enough trouble to know how to deal with it as it arose. Trouble didn't scare him so much anymore. So long as no one caught him again, of course.

"I dunno if you want to get out of this cold, but I've got a bottle of scotch that I've been meaning to open back at my apartment. This seems as good a time as any, if you feel like drinking."

Sveta could see the relief in Matt's eyes. Sure, she was still royally pissed at him, but at least he got the general idea that he was an idiot. Good.

>>"You're right, I don't know what I was thinking,"

He wasn't. Clearly. Sveta knew the feeling. But at least he tried for a smile now, and she'd almost forgotten how she liked to see him smile.

>>"I dunno if you want to get out of this cold, but I've got a bottle of scotch that I've been meaning to open back at my apartment. This seems as good a time as any, if you feel like drinking."

"Yes. Alcohol sounds great right now." Sveta nodded. How did they always end up drinking, whenever they met? That probably wasn't healthy. But she sure as hell did not want to stay sober for the rest of this conversation. She fell into step next to him as they started walking, and a new thought occurred to her. "Wait, can you even... you know, do that? The alcohol, I mean... How did you even manage to get actual time for a DUI?"

Matt walked them in the direction of his apartment, glad that they were able to walk a block to the left in order to avoid running back into where the police were gathering. From what he could see, an ambulance had arrived, and they were rolling both of them out, handcuffed to stretchers. He couldn't help but wince at the fact that the clerk was likely giving out his description to the police. Fleeing a crime scene wasn't exactly the best look for someone who had been on parole for a whole two weeks.

Still, he had Svetlana to distract him, and distract him she did. They had fallen into step together, walking toward his apartment above a dry cleaner's. She was next to him, close enough that he could link his arm with hers, but he knew that it maybe wasn't the place for that yet. Hell, it had been a year, and he hadn't even asked her if she was seeing anyone else.

"Wait, can you even... you know, do that? The alcohol, I mean... How did you even manage to get actual time for a DUI?"

Matt huffed under his breath as he shrugged and opened an unimposing gray door next to the entrance of the dry cleaner's for her to walk through. She was right, he had to be more careful, but it wasn't like he had a problem, did he...? He supposed he had a bit of a history of drinking a little bit more when things went wrong in his life (or when they went right), but who didn't? Besides, he hadn't had an actual drink in months. Months! Maybe he needed to pay a bit more attention to that, though.

"I mean, it's fine. That night was a... one-off. I was out with a few old buddies that I was deployed with, and I was the soberest. We all agreed that I should be the one to drive, which was a bad idea, I know. Anyway we got pulled over and the cop decided to make example of us," Matt recounted with a sigh, following Sveta up the stairs to his apartment. "The guys in the back were being dicks and the fact that I'm from Guatemala definitely didn't help."

The building they walked into was most definitely not the building that Matt used to live in. Go figure; ten months in prison probably changed a lot in someone's life. Hell, a few nights in jail had changed a lot in Sveta's, once upon a time.

>>"I mean, it's fine. That night was a... one-off. I was out with a few old buddies that I was deployed with, and I was the soberest. We all agreed that I should be the one to drive, which was a bad idea, I know. Anyway we got pulled over and the cop decided to make example of us,"

Sveta frowned, walking up the stairs. Such a mundane thing. After finding out he was an adapted, after fighting SUPER, after all the weirdness Matt had been through, it was the night out with some friends that landed him in trouble. Life was just not fair sometimes.

>>"The guys in the back were being dicks and the fact that I'm from Guatemala definitely didn't help."

"Assholes." Sveta muttered, meaning the justice system in general. Racism? Really? When they had literal aliens running around? "You know, if you called, we could have gotten you a better lawyer."

Okay, it was not fair to say that. She knew it. Matt did not want to get her in trouble, and he was probably exactly as ashamed of the whole thing as she would have been if she made a dumb mistake like that. Pot, kettle, and all that. But really. Phone call?

Sveta looked around at the top of the stairs.

"New digs?" she arched an eyebrow at him "Do you have a roommate I should be aware of?..."

Oof. That did not come out right.

If he had called... yeah, if only he had called. Would things have been different, then? What would Sveta have done if she'd known the guy she'd gone on one date with had just been arrested? Would she have stuck around? Used her connections to maybe help him reduce his sentence? Maybe. There were a thousand maybes, but none of them would ever be a reality now. It was far too late for that. The damage was done, and all that was left to do was to work on figuring out what to do next.

His apartment was definitely different from the one she would have seen the first time. That apartment was a bit of a haven, really - he'd had a roommate when he first moved in, but after a few months said roommate got married and moved off. By that point, Matt was making enough to cover both halves of the rent, so he'd had a decently large place all to himself, complete with roof access and a great location.

At the top of the stairs, there was instead a one-room apartment with an attached kitchen and an en-suite bathroom. It was small, to say the least, and it felt a bit more claustrophobic with all the boxes that had been pulled out of storage that he had yet to unpack. It had been a hectic few weeks, and he didn't even both to apologize for disaster. His dog, on the other hand, greeted the two of them immediately upon entry, weaving in and out of the boxes with little grace. The german shepherd had never really learned to control where his tail wagged.

"I moved out of my old place with pretty short notice, but my landlord was nice enough to point me in the direction of one of his other buildings. It was better than moving in with my brother in my thirties, anyway." Jesus, this was not how he'd pictured his life going.

"Do you have a roommate I should be aware of?..."

"Other than Moby, no," he said as he shrugged off his jacket and gestured for Sveta to hand him hers. "What about you? Any new attachments?"

Yikes. That came out exactly as awkwardly as he feared it would, so he focused on transferring the jackets to hooks on the wall rather than making eye contact.

The apartment was a step and a half down from the previous place; much smaller, no quaint roof terrace, and still filled with boxes, showing all the staples of a bachelor pad, if the bachelor had also just gotten out of prison. Not that Sveta minded. She had seen, and lived in, worse. And at least it was not a halfway house.

>>"I moved out of my old place with pretty short notice, but my landlord was nice enough to point me in the direction of one of his other buildings. It was better than moving in with my brother in my thirties, anyway."

"It's not bad" Sveta noted. It really wasn't. She shrugged off her jacket and handed it to Matt, and then crouched down to greet the german shepherd. "Hello there! Who's a good boy?"

>>"Other than Moby, no. What about you? Any new attachments?"

Alright, so his question came out exactly as awkward as hers. At least they were both awful at this on the same wavelength. Sveta chuckled, and shook her head, tossing her mask on top of one of the boxes.

"Not really. The Haven apartments are pretty nice, though. And close to work." the dog was still sniffing around her legs, and she patted him on the head "How did he deal with you being away?"

Moby took to Sveta immediately, collapsing at her feet with a pathetic whimper for her affection. The dog was a big suck, really. So much for German Shepherds being good guard dogs; Moby would probably help intruders sniff out any valuables. Not that Matt really had any, anyway.

"Right, you're still with Haven," Matt recounted with a nod, piecing together few days that they had spent together over a year before. She was a bigshot with a big office in a big building, despite the almost punk appearance she gave off when she was running around town in a vigilante mask. "What have you guys been doing these days? Still... um... mutant pr?" That sounded... somewhat right. Matt really couldn't remember what Haven did, anyway - just that some rich kid walked around as the boss.

Sveta drew his attention back to Moby, who was preoccupied with someone paying attention to him. "I think he's still in the process of forgiving me for it. My sister took him in for a while, which wasn't ideal for either of them, and, oh, shit," Matt let out a groan as he stepped into the kitchen. "I was supposed to pick up dog food."

At least Sveta hadn't admitted to things changing in her life, Matt mused silently as he searched through the fridge for something he could give Moby that was safe for a dog. He pulled out some carrots and stuck them in a dish which he set out on the floor. It was only a few seconds delay before Moby had found it and stuck his head in.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, turning to Sveta.

>>"Right, you're still with Haven. What have you guys been doing these days? Still... um... mutant pr?"

"Yeah. Something like that." Sveta chuckled. It was definitely one way of putting it. Being a vigilante was not a part of the job, but Haven was far from being a passive, charitable organization. Sveta scratched Moby's belly.

>>"I think he's still in the process of forgiving me for it. My sister took him in for a while, which wasn't ideal for either of them, and, oh, shit... I was supposed to pick up dog food."

Sveta grinned as Matt mulled over the dog feeding situation, and settled for vegetables. Moby did not look very convinced.

>>"Are you hungry?"

"Those carrots look appetizing." Sveta chuckled. She didn't really expect him to conjure up a full evening meal. "You promised alcohol, though." she stood up, dusting the dog fur off her pants in a futile attempt "So, do you have a job?"

"Well, I mean, you're welcome to fight him for them," Matt offered with a smirk, gesturing to where Moby was now sitting up on the floor, clearly offended that Matt would think he would be satisfied with carrots rather than kibble. He would just have to survive for the night, though. Matt would pick up some dog food in the morning. He had enough excitement at a store for one night.

He had promised alcohol, though, which Sveta reminded him of. With a quick nod, Matt turned around and opened the one cupboard he was actually using so far. Behind a box of cereal and a package of spaghetti, there was a single bottle of scotch. His sister had brought it over when she'd dropped off Moby, but Matt had doubted he would have a reason to open it anytime soon. This seemed like as good of a reason as any.

He turned around with the bottle and two glasses and poured out somewhat cautious portions, realizing that he was somewhat struck by Sveta's comment earlier. He would probably need to be careful how much he was drinking in the future.

"Same job as before. They were cool enough to let me keep it, though I'm pretty sure that had something to do with Chris yelling at my boss until he caved," Matt said. There were always things that would keep him hopeful, it seemed. "Really, my life is kinda the same. Just a bit worse." Cough and a beat. "What about you? Was the year as shitty on your end?"

He slid over the second glass for Sveta and held his out to knock against hers. "Guess we kinda came full circle, huh?"

>>"Well, I mean, you're welcome to fight him for them,"

Moby looked like he would be willing to give up the carrots if someone offered him a slice of cheese. Pure indignation. Sveta chuckled, even though she felt a bit sorry for the pup.

>>"Same job as before. They were cool enough to let me keep it, though I'm pretty sure that had something to do with Chris yelling at my boss until he caved. Really, my life is kinda the same. Just a bit worse. What about you? Was the year as shitty on your end?"

Sveta took one carefully poured glass. It was good to know that Matt had his job at least. It was hard to imagine him as anything else but the rugged bartender she'd first seen him as. She would have loved to commiserate with him about having a shitty year, but... her year had been 'meh' at best.

>>"Guess we kinda came full circle, huh?"

"Kinda" she smirked, clinking her glass to his before she drank. The scotch was not bad. She clicked her tongue. "It was... an okay year." she admitted "We did some decent things with Haven... put out forest fires, helped mutants find housing, tracked down some rogue SUPER agents, that kinda stuff. I guess I never really had a stable job this long before." she shrugged, glancing at the mask she'd left on a box "The vigilante stuff... Dunno. I just get antsy sometimes."

Sveta had a long and rather interesting past, from what Matt remembered. He still had questions about what exactly she'd been through, but he knew that he didn't have the right to ask them. At least not right away. This year had been different for her, though, and she had gotten to experience doing some real good for a community. Matt smiled at that as he took a sip from his glass.

She got antsy, though, which is why she needed to occasionally don a mask and save people from robberies. It was doing good in a different way than with Haven, but it was still good, in the end. Plus, she had saved Matt a very awkward feeling of standing still during a robbery - not that he had been much help either way, but at least she had fixed the problem.

"I'm glad to hear that you're doing well," he mused. Time had been kind to that aspect, at least. "Did stopping those robbers scratch the itch, then, or do you need to punch something else tonight? I mean, you can take out your feelings on the couch over there if you need to."

He turned slightly to look around. It wasn't much to offer for entertainment or hosting, but he did have a few tricks up his sleeve, in the very least. "Okay, I provided alcohol, but are you sure you're not hungry?"