Argh.

She was holding his hand and talking about death. He somehow thought he were more repressed than this.

Maybe art and practicing expressing his feelings made him too good at being an emotional wreck.

Andrea confessed about her power, and... it was heavy. Heavier than a mountain. Elliott frowned.

“That is so rough.” He said, and felt instantly and immediately inadequate. Rough was an understatement. Rough was like sandpaper beside a long beach as far as comparisons went to what that was. Or a desert sandstorm. He couldn’t even find words that were adequate for the situation. That was how bad it was. And he went and made it worse.

“He... my roommate... there was a bomb. We used to work together doing the heroing thing. Had some issues we needed to work out and make amends for. And— a mad bomber had a bomb.”

He shivered. And he wasn’t cold.

“Benji saw one solution. Because if it went off it’d hit an apartment building. And lots of people would get hurt. He felt like it was his responsibility to prevent that. Because he was insane.”

He clenched his fists on his lap in front of him. “I kicked him and he used his power and I kicked him so he’s get height... and he got out of range of the building. Right on time.”

He stared towards the ceiling light. Not crying. “Newspapers thought it was out of season fireworks... I don’t think you could have healed ashes.”

“So anyways all I had left was his charred helmet. And his canvas. And I was angry and kicked it and that’s why I paint.”

“I am not very good at dealing with my emotions.” He said blandly. “Or being heroic. Compared to him.”

He did NOT cry. His throat was just dry, that was all. Not croaky with emotions.

He told her the story and she listened quietly. She didn't remove her hand, just in case it was helping to some small degree. What he told her was... heart wrenching. A terrible price to pay for someone who had only the best intentions.

Elliot explained a lot of things and Andrea absorbed them and processed them, and tried her hardest to think up something, anything, that could make it hurt just a little bit less. The sad and funny thing though was that no one had that ability. Unless you got rid of the memories themselves, no one but time could heal the wounds of the heart.

"That is an awful lot to have to carry around with you all the time." She started, frowning despite herself. "Thank you for telling me. I... I am glad I get to know who Benji was. What he did."

She looked away before checking the time on her watch. They were close enough to 20 minutes at that point that she felt fine unhooking him from her.

"Are we.. you and I the only ones who know what he sacrificed?" If the local papers had only reported it as fireworks, what did that mean for the boy's family?

She eyed the blood stains on the couch and the ones still lingering on his skin where the blanket wasn't covering and had to fight back a comment. If he was out running around saving people from muggings and such in the middle of the night she didn't feel there was much of a difference between them, other than once having given his life for those of others.

"Elliot, you very well could have died tonight." She said softly. "I am not sure exactly what you were out and about doing, but at the very least I think there are probably a few people out there who feel the same about you, as you do about your friend. There will always be a greater hero, but there are also countless people behind you that you have saved. Isn't that what you just told me?" She set about unhooking him as gently as she could, applying pressure to the needle site until she had gauze and tape prepared to cover it.

"Would your friend not be proud of you for that?" She really hoped she wasn't making things worse with her opinions, here. She was so awkward with these sorts of things she always worried about it.

“He was... from the other world. That alternate reality thing in Central Park. Left it all behind. Got outed as a hero on the Times Square Jumbotron.” Elliott said quietly, shrugging one shoulder.

“I still have his motorcycle. You’re the first person I’ve really told about him. Other than this girl who’d mugged me. Not even my girlfriend.” Which was kind of crappy, he realized. But she’d only worry if she knew he was a costumed vigilante. And nobody wanted that.

“Nobody knew we had done a thing. Sometimes, when you do everything right people don’t know you’ve done anything at all... and it was never about that.” He said.

Benji has always been doing his part, not in it for acclaim or chicks. Though he probably could have had them, if he’d wanted that.

Andrea went and tried to make it even heavier. He could have died? Another single-shoulder shrug.

And she was trying to make him feel heroic?

He wasn’t sure after what he’d done for Ragnarok, He could be a hero. Even if he’d also technically destroyed them by trying to organize chaos, like lightning in a bottle.

He kept quiet, while she spoke. Shirtless and bare to the world. And still cold with chills. Were those due to being partly unclothed?

She unhooked the blood transfusion hose. He’d almost forgotten he had her blood in him. Hm.

Was that what he’d just told her? That there were people he’d saved? “I suppose,” he said noncommittally. “That girl. Door, Doreen.” Something.

That there were people out there that counted him a hero, meant the flip side was also true. Which gave him a momentary shudder. Those two men. Like a fox and a wolf. With knives. They were still out there. He’d only scared them off. Or made it too hot for them to stick around...

Would Benji think he’d done good, and be proud?

“Benji. Was too good for his own good. Yeah. He’d think I’d done alright. But then, he’d also think it was my duty to help people if I could. And— and frankly, I think that’s a stupid philosophy to have.”

He frowned. He hated talking Ill of the dead. Benji had been like a brother to him. More of a brother than he’d ever know, actually. But—

“Before I started helping people, Andrea...” He said, voice weak. Defeated. “I was kind of a bad guy. How does one even make amends for that?”

What kind of karma did he have stacked against him?

She watched him as she packed everything away. It would all need to be properly disposed of. She really needed to get herself a sharps box. She wasn't offended by him thinking helping people as much as you could was a little stupid... It was something not expected of most, and only shouldered by a few. She did think it was funny though, since to her that sounded exactly like what he had been doing. "Not all philosophies have to make sense, to be followed."

She was a little surprised to hear him call himself a bad guy. He honestly hadn't come across like that at all to her. Then again, she didn't have the best track record with judging people. Saph had been a rather violent vigilante who murdered people right under her nose.

"I suppose the nice thing about making amends for things you have done wrong, is that there is never a bad time or place to start." She stood, albeit a little shakily, and carefully picked her way toward the kitchen to collect a sack for the things she needed to get rid of.

"Redemption isn't an exclusive club. It's for everybody... and it sounds to me like you have already set yourself on that path long before this conversation. You only need to keep going, no?"

“Not all philosophies have to make sense, to be followed.” She said.

“Truer words have never been spoken, I guess.” Elliott said. Except maybe ‘I seem to be on fire,’ by some random guy in Pompeii.

As for his comment on making amends... Redemption wasn’t an exclusive club. And she had a lot of good stuff to say on that topic.

“Yeah.” He said. His voice was choked up a little. “Honestly. I’m a little touched.” And he was.

Although if she knew what he had done... funny how his story was basically a super-violent vigilante extension of the plot to the TV show My Name Is Earl. He didn’t actually say THAT though.

“Thanks, Andrea.” He said, instead.

He turned and started putting on his clothes.

It was nice to know she had his back.

She was too tired to full out beam at him, so he got a tired little smile instead. "Anytime, Elliot."

She finished packing away her things and headed back toward the kitchen. She needed to get something in her stomach before going to try and sleep again, otherwise the blood loss would wreak havok on her system.

"Would you like anything to eat while I am in here?" She called back, clanging pots and pans around in a pursuit for just the right one.

"You should try to get some rest here soon, too. You'll recover fully much quicker."

“You should let me make something,” Elliott said, as he barged into the kitchen. Even if he’d just been healed, he felt well enough to make good food. And she’d just given blood.

“I insist. You just gave blood. And I make a mean grilled cheese.”

He went to the fridge and started shifting things around. Something caught his eye. God bless leftovers.

“We even have leftover chili. And hot dogs, if you’d prefer that over grilled cheese and quote unquote soup.”

Goodness, he basically kicked her out of her own kitchen!

Laughing, she relented and circled around to seat herself at one of the chairs by the counter. "Alright, alright! I give!"

She visibly perked at the mention of what could become chili dogs. Her one weakness! How had any of those survived in there with her around?!

"I am always up for chili dogs."

It was a guilty pleasure, and one that made her fondly remember when Saph and introduced her to them. Those had been oddly simpler times, in comparison. Before everything had gotten complicated.

"I thought for sure when I first arrived here that I would hate them. They hardly sounded appetizing." The Greek chuckled.

He grinned his zipper-toothed grin and put out a pot to reheat the chili in. Then, Elliott set out a pan and got to work opening the package of hot dogs.

“That’s funny.” He said. “So, what. You came here all the way from... where? Greece?”

It was just a guess. Maybe she sounded a little Greek? Maybe? Or maybe he was just saying it because snake hair.

He set out several hot dogs. Heck. He would fry up the whole package! They were hungry. And they could ace anything they didn’t eat. Then, he dumped all the chili into the pot. Finally, while things were cooking, he dug out buns and condiments. As a final touch, he pulled out a jar of jalapeños... for himself. And shredded cheese.

“If i were being extra, I would grill onions. But these might work if we want them.” He set out a canister of those fried onion toppings you get for salads. “We are gourmet.”

She nodded to herself, even if he couldn't see it. "Indeed Greece. I was barely an adult and I hopped on the first boat I found to come here." She could laugh at the memories now, even if they were tinged with a little bit of sadness. Who would have thought she could bribe her way into the US on a tour boat of all things? Desperate times, she supposed. "I am from Rhodes, originally. Είμαι επίσης καλύτερα να μιλάω στη μητρική μου γλώσσα!"

Grinning, she propped her chin up on her not sore arm and curled the other loosely in front of her on the counter. "I am much better at speaking in Greek. I sound quite a bit like a text book in English, I have heard."

She tired giggled at his jokes. Gourmet reminded her a lot of... of Saph, actually. She found herself suddenly wondering how he was doing. He had been running with the vigilante gig too, last she saw him.

"You sounded a little like my ex-husband there, for a moment. He was the one who introduced me to a New York chili dog. He was offended I referred to them as 'street food'."

Yep. He’d been correct. She was from Greece. Snake woman from Greece. Gods, but that must have been difficult when she’d manifested her hair.

He was so focused on preparing g their food, he almost missed the subtle change in her as Andrea mentioned an ex-husband.

Somehow, he had missed the fact she’d been married. Interest entered his voice as hot dogs sizzled and chili burbled. “You’ve never talked about your ex-husband before... if it isn’t too personal, what was he like? If he liked chili dogs, he couldn’t have been all bad.”

The joke at the end had slipped out. He hadn’t meant to crack it. Wry humor isn’t proper when things are emotional and all personal-like.

She smiled wryly at no one in particular. "I do not mind, it is awkward... that is all."

She fiddled with a pen that had been left loosely on the counter while she thought about what to say. Well, while they were being honest with each other it really couldn't get much worse, could it?

"I was married to one of the X-men, at one point. The Masochist." Yeesh, even after all these years she still thought that name was so silly.

"He was one of the first faces I met upon coming here, and while he was a bit gruff at first he certainly grew on me. We were together for quite a few years before I ended up back home in Greece and he just... sorta came along with?" She chuckled. "He proposed, both to get me legally back into the states, and also to... well, actually propose. It was pretty sweet.. though, my parents hated him."

Another chuckle as she rolled the pen around absently with a finger. Her parents hated everything she had to do with though, so no surprise there at the time.

"Some pretty bad things happened and I ended up, well... running off I guess. I used to be a bit more reclusive back then and I couldn't handle the situations that had been presented to me. He hadn't done anything wrong on his end, I was simply far to involved in my own mess that I couldn't justify dragging him through it with me anymore."

It was truly a situation she wished to be able to rewind and re-do. She probably would have still ended things, as they had both gone on to lead happier lives in time... but they way she had done it really could have used some work. A lot of work. She knew that quite well now.

"He's remarried now, I believe and with a child I think? I'm very happy for him in that regard. He truly deserves any happiness he can get."

Well... that had been an incredibly vague, simplified version of events. "He is still one of my favorite people, even if I am too much of a coward to try and reconnect with him in any way. Too awkward."

Awkward. Well. God forbid. He'd already stripped in front of her that night. And bled all over her stuff. What was a little awkwardness between friends, after all of that?

He nodded, and listened as she composed her thoughts. Ex-husbands were a sticky subject. But she didn't sound like she hated him...

He had been one of the X-men. Those goofy goody two-shoes who had chased him away from the mansion because he'd been doing the same thing as them. Just... not as part of a team. With a name like The Masochist, the guy sounded just as goofy as the triangle-eyed Asian man. Elliott kept him mouth shut. This was her ex-husband, not the butt of jokes. Not that second, anyways.

He had been one of the first people she had met in America. Grumpy grump, but he'd warmed up. Then she'd gone back to Greece and... he'd tagged along? Married her to get her back into the country legally. And-- Well, because.

Her parents had hated Masochist Man.

Then bad things had happened. And she'd been so caught up in her own stuff, that she felt she could not bring him along. He felt bad for her. That was no good. She had been overwhelmed. The marriage had fallen apart.

But at least, he sounded happier now. Married, with children. Well. Child. Singular. And she was happy for him. She did not hate him. In fact, she cared about him a lot.

She felt like it was cowardice not to try and talk to him... because it was awkward.

Elliott frowned. "You aren't a coward. I don't know enough about your personal life... or his... to say anything about all of that. But it sounds like he's happy. And you want him to be happy... so you're just letting him be happy on his own. Nothing cowardly about that." He shrugged. "People who save my life don't get to call themselves cowards. Not within earshot of me. Er, You know. Even with the lack of ears."

He coughed into his fist. Had that been coherent, like, at all?

"You know what's awkward? My last ex had weird giant ears, and cheated on me with a rock guy. Then dumped me for a rock." At least, he had a good girlfriend now.

She might have blushed just a tiny bit. After all was said and done she didn't feel like anything special. A lot of people in her field were like that though. She just did what came naturally to her, sometimes within the lines, sometimes just a tiny bit outside of them...

Really, in a way, she and Elliot weren't terribly different. Both trying to do good, both having a hard time recognizing it. Or at least that's how it felt, currently.

"Weird ears?" She could only imagine. It seemed too impolite to try and inquire further what 'weird ears' were when she had snakes on her head and they were both very green. The Greek covered her lips with her fingers due to his short story. Cheated on by his ex with a rock?

She was sure there was a pun in there somewhere, but it felt entirely inappropriate to try and crack a joke right then.

"Well... I'm certainly happy that you have Kenzie now. You two seem to work so well together." Andrea smiled and leaned on the counter as sloth poked his head up over the lip to try and catch a scent on the air.

"You should have her over again sometime soon! A dinner or a movie night, maybe?"

It was nice having people around her again who weren't in a terrible place health-wise or at the end of their lives. Elliot and Kenzie were truly gems to be around, and getting to see their dynamic in person was sometimes the highlight of her week.

... Jeez, she still sounded terribly desperate for human contact, didn't she?

'Weird ears', Andrea repeated. She didn't ask further.

"Weird ears, because super human hearing." He hastily explained. Wiggled his hands by his head, to demonstrate too.

"She could hear everything, except the sound of my heart breaking when I learned the truth," he added earnestly. To be melodramatic and wax poetic about the whole thing. He never had been poetic, up until recently. His current girlfriend must have some sort of power, to bring that sort of bullsense off from him. Bullsense... bullsh*& nonsense.

>>"Well... I'm certainly happy that you have Kenzie now. You two seem to work so well together." Andrea smiled.

"Er, yeah. I was actually thinking the same thing." He agreed. Well, sort of the same thing. General ballpark.

Andrea suggested a dinner and a movie sort of thing. Elliott's eyes lit up.

"Hey, yeah? Like a double date! But, then. You'd need a someone. Don't you have... a someone?" He couldn't remember. She was in and out, and he was in and out, and they were so busy. But he felt like she had to have someone. Some person, guy, girl. Platypus. She was definitely good enough for someone special.

He arched an eyebrow ridge in contemplation.