Lila Pitts (hardcopy) wrote in valloic, @ 2022-09-06 20:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | !: action/thread/log, the umbrella academy: diego hargreeves, the umbrella academy: lila pitts |
Log: Lila & Diego
She really wish she had her powers. But the everything bagel didn't hurt. She was still taking bites out of it as she stepped through the doors of the Underground and let her eyes adjust to the dim interior. It wasn't a bad club. Clean, well-outfitted. There were an assortment of people around that she wouldn't mind punching so already this was a good sign.
But she was only really here for one person. And she couldn't help the dopey half-smile that fought for control of her mouth when she came up behind him and tapped on his shoulder.
"Hello, lover," she drawled, half-eaten bagel in hand. "They told me I'd find you here."
Diego felt comfortable in the Underground, had since he first walked in and sparred with Jacob. Even though the place was more of a simple design in that they didn’t have machines that evaluated your form while you were punching a bag or some shit, it was a good place where they took pride in hard work. All Diego needed to train someone was a willingness to try. So it was easy to get lost in the rhythmic rat-a-tat-tat of his fists against a bag, especially when he wasn’t expecting anyone.
He wasn’t expecting Lila, not after a little over two years to the date of having first seen her in a weird memory dump of meeting at an asylum and escaping, falling for her, being betrayed, still falling for her, and her leaving somewhere in the timeline. It had been…easier, not to think of her, especially since she wasn’t in Vallo, and his life looked different at the time. And then, another year, and another wave of memories, of Lila coming back only to leave Stan with him, coming back again and admitting the whole thing had been a test of Diego’s fatherhood because, surprise, they were having a baby.There had been misunderstandings, both of them were hurt people who had a hard time expressing things, but he had wanted to make it work, she had wanted to make it work, they were going to be a weird little family that maybe no one else but them understood and that was what mattered the most.
It had happened to Diego, and it hadn’t. He could pick Lila out of a sea of people, and yet it was like seeing her for the first time.
“Holy shit,” was what he blurted out, blinking at her like some sort of idiot. “Lila?”
No shit, Sherlock.
Lila raised one judgy eyebrow at him. The people at the government office had explained the multiple timeline thing and that some people had been here for some time, but she hadn't thought to ask how long Diego had been here. She'd just wanted to get to him as quickly as she could, because whatever else this rubbish was, she would be better equipped to handle it with him nearby.
Now a sense of dread was looming.
"That's me," she announced, tossing her half-eaten bagel behind the bar. The bartender gave a half-hearted "hey" in complaint but Lila was focused on crowding closer to Diego. "Why did you just say that like I'm bloody Bigfoot and you can't believe your eyes?"
Diego held up a hand. “Okay, you can’t just throw things at Carl –”
“--Really? Thanks so much, Diego, that really means–”
“--Shut the fuck up, Carl.” Diego turned his focus back to Lila and held up the other hand now, as if to show he was unarmed, even though he very obviously was never unarmed. He knew (though how he knew again was so fucking weird) that Lila was prone to bolting when things became charged. Except for when she committed to staying. “Just wait a sec, huh? Wait.” Like if Diego said it enough, he could buy himself time to actually figure out what the fuck was going on. Okay, yes, Lila was standing in front of him. That was what was happening, he got that part. But, you know, the rest of it?? He thought maybe he was speaking too loudly?? Or too high pitched??? Both??
“Are you okay? When did you get here? Is the–”
Oh.
Oh, shit.
“Is the baby okay?”
"So you do remember me." Lila sounded more relieved than she cared to admit, even if she could still tell something was wrong. Diego was still an open book written for very dumb children and she loved him for that. Among other things. "Yes, Diego, the baby is fine. Probably. I don't know. It survived time travel so traveling to an alternate reality should be fine?"
God, her stupid emotions were so on edge with this whole growing a human life thing that she felt ready to cry or yell or throw up. Or, apparently, apologize to this idiot bartender.
"Sorry, Carl," she sighed, turning to lean on the bar. Her stomach was in knots. "Do you have any ginger ale back there?"
Carl, who was likely built with thick skin given the place of employment, slid over a green can of ginger ale and a glass with ice and a paper umbrella, just in case! “Don’t worry about it, Lila! We’re all friends here in the Underground. Isn’t that right, Diego?”
“Carl, I swear to God, I’m going to hang you from your small intestine,” Diego all but growled. God, this was so weird. This was SO weird. He was trying not to blue screen out. It hadn’t been all that long ago that he received the new memories, after all, and the Diego of two years, even a year ago would have put those memories in a box and shoved them in a cabinet labeled ‘deal with later’, and never in fact, deal with them later. But the fact that he hadn’t didn’t mean he could deal with everything quickly, he was still wrestling with the whole ‘holy shit now I may be a dad when I know nothing about parenting, and/or I may never see Lila or meet the kid, ever,’ issue.
He pulled out a knife (because when was Diego NOT carrying a knife) and rhythmically threw it at the ceiling so it flipped over and over and over itself, before he caught the handle in a perfect pinch between his thumb and forefinger. “Lila, listen, I,” ugh, this was going to suck, he already knew it, even though logically he knew it was the right thing to do. “Okay, did you hear the spiel they give you? Multiple timelines, multiple universes, right? That whole thing that Five understands better than me, and by the way don’t tell him I said that?”
Flip flip flip. Flip flip flip.
“So I’ve been here for two and a half years. The last thing I know I experienced was when Viktor fucking blew up the moon and Five sent us back to the 60’s I remember you, I remember everything, just because we get like, fucking, I don’t know, memories? I’m–sorry.” And what Diego was apologizing for, he couldn’t express? Not being the Diego that Lila knew? Oh, God. Where were his antacids?
Diego threatening the bartender didn't faze Lila at all; if anything, it charmed her. She flashed a little smile at Carl and patted his hand patronizingly as she took the can, one-handedly popping it open. Carl didn't really seem fazed by Diego either. She supposed that was more proof Diego had been here a while. What she hadn't really considered was that he hadn't come here after everything at home. Time travel made perfect sense to her. Living in two separate universes at the same time made her upset stomach rumble.
"Right…" Lila took a distracted sip. She was percolating. Really, she was trying to get her pregnancy hormones to stop torturing her with a near cry. Admittedly, she was usually very good at stomping down emotions that betrayed any vulnerability. But lately, that had gone right out the window. And she refused to cry on Diego yet again.
"Is this a practical joke because you think you need to be wooed?" She knew it wasn't, but a little gallows humor never hurt anyone. Leaning back against the bar, she squinted one-eyed at him. "No. I don't suppose even that would make you say you're sorry." Her emotions were definitely swelling again. Lila cleared her throat and turned her head away quickly. "So you remember it all but you don't feel any of it. Is that what you're saying?"
“Something like that,” Diego admitted, feeling all the worse for it. He’d experienced the memories, he knew how he had felt at the time, the whole range of emotions that came with everything–not just Lila, but also his siblings, seeing Grace but not Grace twice over, watching Reginald Hargreeves twist and turn everything because he was a fucking psycho, Ben and Sparrow Ben, Stan, the fucking monsters, surprise, Reginald was a dickhead who would kill all of them, he lived all of it. But he didn’t. Because the Diego in Vallo woke up and lived an entirely different life. Connected and disconnected at the same time.
It felt unfair and cruel.
In his distraction, the knife came down from a toss and nicked him across his finger, nothing to cause any real damage (or, you know, fucking losei it) but enough to draw blood. Diego cursed and wrapped his finger in the hem of his shirt. “Fuckin a. We can go and get you settled in, okay? Get all the shit organized, it’ll be okay.” Would she want to stay in the train? Should she stay in the train? No, that was weird, right? At the very least he would have to talk to Jacob and Serefin who undoubtedly would have dumbass questions like ‘how are you, Diego?’ and ‘what are you feeling?’ and ‘what can we do don’t say nothing that’s not an answer’ like the idiots they were. Diego always did better with things to do, actionable steps he could take or punch, so, getting Lila squared away and secure was A Thing To Do and it would make him feel better. And then he would down an entire pharmacy’s worth of antacids.
Lila's eyes dropped shut for a second under the weight of disappointment and hurt. It figured, really. Why had she expected anything but a middle finger from the universe when things were finally looking up? She squared her shoulders and put on a sunny, carefree smile, anyway.
"How very gentlemanly of you! Please, don't bother. I can take care of myself." After taking a long drink of ginger ale, she lifted the can at him in a mock salute and then deposited the can on the bar. "Carl, love, make sure he pays you for this, yeah?" Lila patted the bar and turned towards the door. She made it two steps before she paused and squinted at Diego over her shoulder. "If I find out this is all just your cowardly way of telling me you changed your mind…"
Well, she didn't think it was that either. He wasn't that conniving. And most threats would be empty aimed at him these days, whether she liked it or not. She sighed. "Sod it. Nevermind."
“I didn’t say you couldn’t,” Diego snapped, out of frustration with himself rather than Lila or even the situation. He pinched the bridge of his nose, softening a bit, which either looked like barely anything at all or everything, depending on how well someone knew him. “But that doesn’t mean you have to.” That felt familiar and important, like all the times he’d told Lila that she had family, like all the times he’d told her she wasn’t alone. It was a lesson that had taken Diego a while to learn in Vallo, only reinforced by the memories.
And while Diego’s instinct was to panic and hermit it up while he dealt with the war of emotions and thoughts he was currently undergoing, he knew too that more importantly, Lila needed someone. Him but–not him, at the same time. Not the one she wanted, but the one she had. .
He reached over the bar and grabbed a napkin and a pen, scribbling down a few lines before handing it over to Lila. “This is how you reach me. And I wrote down where I live too, memorize and burn it.’ Diego was only half kidding. “Now, come on. You don’t even know where you’re going, at the very least let me show you where you need to go first, then after that, you can fucking spider monkey it up a building or something.”
Lila thrilled a little at his raised tone; better he be annoyed than feel nothing about her presence. And better that than the sharp sting of the kindness that followed it. She wasn’t very good at letting people be kind to her. She’d started to get better at it, and look where that had gotten her. She snatched the paper out of his hand, stared at for two seconds, and then took a bite out of it.
“Alright, Mr. Tour Guide,” she said, still chewing. “Lead the way.” She directed with her free hand and then gave Carl a little wave as she headed for the door. The bartender gave a slow wave back, like he was still too focused on her ‘snack’ to do it properly. “Come on, chop chop. I need to find a loo that doesn’t smell like gym sweat.”