When things got bad, she tended to turn to facts.
Facts didn’t change. Facts didn’t leave. Facts didn’t make her sob in the middle of the night when she thought no one could hear.
Facts didn’t blame her for the death of their child and then abandon her.
Facts were not Agatha.
Fact: death is inevitable.
Fact: it was not her fault.
Fact: despite that, she blamed herself too.
Fact: her ex-wife is sitting across from her with a horrible look on her face, piercing eyes boring into her soul and that chocolate hair she’d always loved to tangle her fingers through pulled back in a messy bun.
“What are you doing here?”
She smiles, a nasty thing. “Hello, Agatha.”
Agatha stands quickly, knocking her barstool over with the motion. “Don’t you dare.”
She raises an eyebrow, leans an elbow against the counter. “Dare what, sweetheart? All I did was ask your order.”
Fact: she knows Agatha’s order. Black coffee and hashbrowns- the only breakfast food she ever liked.
Agatha’s hands are curled into fists, shoulders shaking with the effort to not reach across the counter and deck Rio Videl right in the face. “Don't call me that.”
She lets her grin stretch even wider, tugging at her skin. “Noted, doll.”
Agatha takes a swing. The kid who’d come in with her quickly grabs her arm, stopping the punch before it can fly. “Agatha!”
Agatha shakes him off, rolling her shoulders like she’s preparing for a fight. Rio doesn’t move. “Go wait in the car, kid. I’ll be out after I deal with this.”
The kid doesn’t move from his stool, clinging to the edge of it with one hand so hard his knuckles are white. “You promised you’d play nice,” he says accusingly. Agatha’s demeanor slips, just for a second.
Fact: Agatha Harkness does not and has never “played nice”.
“Yeah, well, plans change. Go to the car, you hear me?”
“We need food,” he says, standing his ground. Agatha doesn’t even look at him, her hateful glare fixed on Rio.
“We’ll eat somewhere else.”
Rio cuts in, offering, “This is the only place within a few dozen miles in any direction,” in her sweetest voice. Agatha’s jaw tightens, and Rio shrugs. “Don’t know what else you expected from backwater country roads.”
Agatha doesn’t respond, but the boy drinks her in with a worried look in his eyeliner-ringed eyes. She examines him right back, noting the mussed clothes and the dark curls that don’t lay right.
“You been on the road for a while now?”
Agatha snaps a harsh “no”, but the kid’s face falls. All the confirmation she needs.
“I thought you’d said you were done running, Aggie?” She tilts her head, just enough to be annoying. “Then again, you did run after you told me that.”
Agatha lunges at her- Rio jumps back to avoid her swinging fists. Luckily, the boy interrupts before Agatha can climb over the counter and try again.
“Agatha, please!”
“Yeah, Agatha,” she drawls, her back pressed up against the bar between her and the kitchen. “Listen to your pet, huh?”
Agatha reacts like a cornered animal, shoving her way between Rio and the boy. “Don’t talk about him,” she spits, her hair having slipped loose from its bun during her attempted attack. “Don’t you dare-”
“Calm down, toots,” Rio shoots back, waving an empty glass at her like a weapon. “I’m not going to attack a child or whatever it is you’re thinking of.”
The kid scrunches his nose up, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. “I’m sixteen,” he mumbles indignantly.
“Teen,” she amends with a wave of the hand.
“He’s none of your business,” Agatha hisses.
“He’s a mystery is what he is,” she says, a laugh bubbling over her lips and dying just as quickly.
Fact: Agatha clearly cares about this boy.
Fact: Rio is going to find out why.
She drags her gaze across him, the scuffed combat boots and the moon-and-star patterned sweatshirt. It’s eighty degrees outside, but if he wants to overheat in two layers of jackets who is she to judge. There’s chipped black polish on his nails, a fading bruise on his cheek. She frowns.
“Don’t remember you hanging with kids before. Is this a new development?”
“Fuck you,” Agatha responds. Eloquent as ever.
She shrugs. Twirls a lock of hair around her finger. “You can, if you’d like to.”
“Oh,” the teen says with a grimace. “Ah. That does make sense.”
She grins at him around Agatha. “Things clicking into place?”
“Don’t look at him,” Agatha snaps, moving again to block her view.
She could make a remark about Agatha being overprotective- she doesn’t, though.
“Who is he?” she says instead, jerking her chin at him. Agatha’s throat bobs. She tracks the movement hungrily, thoughts of pressing kisses and teeth to that pale, pretty throat nearly overwhelming.
“It doesn’t matter.”
Fact: Agatha still can’t lie to her. Not even after so many years.
“Clearly it does.”
“It doesn’t,” she insists, the look in her eyes begging Rio to stop pushing.
Fact: Rio has never been able to stop herself.
“He yours?”
Agatha and the teen flinch, practically in unison. “Why would you care?” Agatha demands, a tremor in her voice. Behind her, Teen picks at the loose threads of his ripped jeans, a lost look in his eyes.
“You said you’d never have another kid,” Rio says. “After-”
She stops herself before she can say it.
Agatha balls her hands into fists, pressing them against the counter. “Rio. Stop pushing.”
“No,” she says. The glass digs into her hand as she tightens the grip. “Sixteen, huh? That’s- geez, Ags. Didn’t even wait a year to move on from me, huh?”
Agatha reels back like she’d been burned. Rio is so very, very good at burning her. An inferno, the two of them had been. “Didn’t- are you serious? Do you really think I’d fucking do that?”
She stares at her, jaw set tight. “Just looking at the evidence, love.”
“Stop it, both of you!” Teen cries, hopping up from his stool to force his way between Agatha and the counter. “It’s not- look, ma’am, it isn’t like that. I’m not her kid, okay?”
Fact: Agatha winces when he says that.
Fact: Teen doesn’t notice. Rio very much does.
She stares at him. Agatha’s hands twitch, clearly stopping herself from pulling him away from Rio’s searching gaze. “What’s your name, Teen?”
He opens his mouth- Agatha does pull him back, then, glaring at her. “He’s not answering that.”
“What are you doing here?” she asks instead. She directs the question at Agatha, but Teen looks down with an ashamed expression, wrapping his arms around himself.
Agatha glares. “What are you?”
She raises her eyebrows, deadpanning a look around the empty restaurant. “You think I know?”
“Same old Rio,” Agatha snarls through a bitter grin. “You’re like rot. Biding your time, showing up when no one wants you.”
She mirrors Agatha’s smile, leaning forward on the counter. Their noses are inches apart- if she moved, she could kiss her. “No one’s ever wanted me, hon.”
Agatha bites her lip, teeth digging into skin. She used to bite Rio’s lip instead, but now… well. “That’s a lie.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Fact,” Agatha says firmly, anger and desperation dancing across her voice, “that is a goddamn lie.”
She blinks.
Steps back.
“You remember that?” she asks. It’s her turn for her voice to waver in the air, dancing along unseen strings.
“Fact,” Agatha repeats, voice growing louder, “I fucking wanted you.”
“You left me,” she snaps, thrusting an accusing finger at Agatha’s chest. “Nicky died and you left me and I lost you both.”
“Left-” Agatha cuts herself off, stumbling backward. “Is- is that what you think happened?”
“What are you talking about?” Rio demands, slamming her palms against the counter. “That is what fucking happened. You left. You left, you left, you left me!”
“Rio,” Agatha says, quietly, brokenly. “Rio, I tried to go back. You ran from me, Rio.”
She freezes. Forces a breath. “You said you never wanted to see my face again.”
“I was hurting,” Agatha murmurs. She steps forward- Rio steps back. “I- I didn’t mean it. I thought- is that- Rio.”
“No,” she gasps. “No. No, that's not- no!”
Agatha swallows. Her throat bobs. Rio cannot breathe.
...fact?
“Billy,” Agatha says softly, turning to him. He straightens at his name- only so much, ha, cause there’s no way he’s straight and yes she is using humor as a coping mechanism, fuck you -looking rapidly between Rio and Agatha, obvious concern in his eyes. Agatha reaches out, brushes his cheek with her fingertips. Cups his face with the palm that used to press so perfectly against Rio’s. “It’s okay, I- she won’t hurt you. Us. Okay?”
“Okay,” he says hesitantly, pressing his hand over hers. “I- I trust you.”
Fact: that boy is Agatha’s as much as Nicky was, even if he cannot see it.
“Billy,” Agatha repeats, tracing her thumb over the yellowing bruise on his cheekbone. “Go wait in the car, m’kay? Rio and I- we’ve got to... have a talk.”
Billy’s dark eyes dart rapidly, then he nods. Steps back. “I’ll... wait in the car.”
“I won’t be long,” Agatha says, more gently than Rio has heard in years and years and- “I’ll be back.”
Billy hesitates. Nods again. “Take your time. It- it’s okay.”
The bell on the door dings as it closes behind him. Agatha turns back to her.
Rio swallows. Fidgets with the register. “Not your boy, huh?”
Agatha laughs. Steps forward. “I lied.”
She hesitates. “You... tried to come back?”
“Tried to find you again.” Agatha looks away. Smooths her jacket down. “Failed.”
Rio stares at her. She doesn’t think she’s breathing- her chest feels so tight. “Fact.” Pauses. Steels herself. “You didn’t.”
“What?”
She laughs, a dying thing. “You didn’t fail. You found me. Didn’t you?”
Agatha doesn’t move for a long, long moment. Then- “It doesn’t look like you have much keeping you here.”
“I don’t,” she agrees. Waiting.
Waiting.
Agatha’s tongue scrapes across her teeth, her lips. “Rio. If I...”
“Yes?
“If I asked you to come with me-”
“Yes.”
Agatha looks up, meeting her eyes. “What?”
“Yes,” she repeats. No hesitation.
Fact: even now, Rio Videl loves Agatha Harkness.
A slight hesitation. “I don’t know if your boy would be happy about it.”
“He’ll live,” Agatha sighs. Steps even closer, leans over the counter. “And when we fetch his brother he won’t have much room to talk, anyway.”
Rio stares at her lips. “His brother?”
“Long story,” Agatha says. She’s looking back at Rio’s lips in return.
“You can tell me in the car. Hear we’ve got a long drive.”
Agatha laughs- it’s beautiful.
Fact: Agatha’s laugh is beautiful.
Her phone dings- Agatha pulls back, fishing it out of her pocket. “Ha.”
“Who is it?” Rio asks.
“The kid.”
She raises her eyebrows, resting a hand on her hip. “What’s he got to say?”
“He wants us to promise not to fuck by the food. He’s hungry.”
“Tell him he’s ruining the moment.”
Agatha grins at her, over her phone. “I’d say the moment’s going pretty well.”
Rio stamps down her own smile. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Fact: Agatha Harkness still loves Rio Videl just as much in return.
Fact: They bring the kid back food. He makes them promise five times that it’s sanitary before he’ll touch it.