Rum Raisin 14, Rocky Road 9: For Whom The Bell Tolls
Title: For Whom The Bell Tolls
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 14 (benefactor), rocky road 9 (basement), malt (PFAH: Danny, Olivia: For Whom the Bell Tolls), brownie, fresh pineapple (When I'm falling down/Will you pick me up again? --Watercolour, Pendulum).
Word Count: 5471
Rating: PG-13, for possibly triggering discussions (child abuse).
Summary: Olivia and Danny have more in common than they thought.
Notes: Hey, you know I love you guys, but I've had a crappy couple of days, so no criticism on this one, please-- unless I've screwed up something epic, but w/e. Thanks.
Olivia first met Danny in a basement.
She paused on the lintel, a bit surprised, though not sure why. The young woman folding clothes in the basement laundry room was hardly unusual. The smooth cap of golden hair and the slim, strong body of an acrobat made her look like a dancer, and there were many aspiring dancers and actors renting pieces of this building. Olivia herself was one of them. Nothing to wonder at.
And yet this girl did not move like a dancer, not at all. Olivia had been a dancer, once... dancers moved precisely and gracefully, without a wasted movement. This woman had that precision, but there was no grace about it, only efficiency, and a guarded wariness that was horribly, painfully familiar.
Olivia shoved that thought down. Not here. Not now.
"What are you looking at?" the woman asked, without looking up from her laundry.
Olivia jumped, and lost her train of thought completely. "Um, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to stare."
The young woman shrugged, and dropped the last folded piece of clothing into her bag. "Apology accepted. Don't do it again." She hoisted the bag onto her back, and turned to go.
Olivia got out of her way, swinging her own laundry basket to the side to make room. But she couldn't let it go, not at that.
"I'm Olivia," she blurted, just as the other woman passed her. "Olivia Marhenke. I live on the third floor."
The woman paused, and gave her an incredulous look that slowly melted into an unreadable expression. "Danny," she said, at last. "Fourth."
"Danny?" Olivia hadn’t meant to say it, but... really, Danny?
Something that might have been a smile flickered over Danny's face. "Yeah, well... it's really Daniella, but I hate that name. So call me Danny."
"Okay," Olivia said, and tried a smile back. "Danny. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too," Danny said, without any real interest, and was gone.
At the time, Olivia fully expected to never see her again.
---
The girl with the curly hair, whose name Danny knew but could not for the life of her remember, was fighting with the dryer when she came in.
Literally fighting. There was kicking involved, and a smack or two, and Danny hadn't heard swearing that varied since her last tour of duty. Impressed, she slung her bag of laundry off her shoulder and let it hit the ground with a thump.
The girl didn't seem to hear, but then, how could she, when she was swearing so creatively? "--fucking piece of crap!" she half-screamed, then delivered a final kick to the dryer that made its door rattle.
"Did the dryer run over your puppy or something?" Danny inquired, dryly.
The girl-- Olivia, that was her name, Olivia-- jumped, and pivoted on her heel, neatly, like a dancer. Her expression, on the other hand, was not at all neat. She looked shocked, and a little bit horrified, sliding rapidly into mortified. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was there."
"Clearly," Danny said, and then had mercy on her and said, "Don't worry, I've heard worse."
Olivia shook her head, and looked everywhere but at Danny, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "I really am sorry. It's just that I've fed two dollars into it and my clothes still aren't dry."
Danny nodded. "Seems worthy of swearing," she said, and pulled open a washer's door. She began stuffing her clothes in.
Somehow, Olivia managed to color even the silence the faint purple of embarrassment.
Finally, Danny rolled her eyes and straightened up, meeting the other girl's gaze. "Look. You can't shock me, I promise. I'm in the Navy."
The girl blinked, and cocked her head. "Really? "
"Really," Danny said, and hip-checked the washer's door shut. "Reservist, now." Her four-year enlistment had run out in April-- four years to the day since Michael's eighteenth birthday-- and after lengthy consideration and consultation with Nathan and Michael, she'd decided not to re-enlist, at least not immediately. The Navy had given her all it could, for the moment. Time to try the real world on for size.
"Oh," Olivia said, her brown eyes very wide. God, she seemed so damn young, younger than Michael, even. Was she even old enough to be out of college? "Wow, that is so cool."
Danny cracked a smile. "Like a uniform, do you?"
Olivia shook her head, curls flying. "No, no. My grandfather's a veteran, though, and I used to hear a lot of stories, growing up."
"Oh, yeah?" Danny looked up from the handful of change she'd dug out of her pocket. "What branch?"
"Air Force," Olivia said. "He used to go on bombing runs over Germany."
"Chair Force is for losers," Danny commented, without any particular heat. She fished five quarters from the coins in her palm and set them down on the washer's surface, enjoying the bright clash of metal on metal. "Navy's where all the cool people are at."
Olivia giggled. "Granddad says that the Navy's a bunch of waterheads."
"Yeah, well, your granddad's wrong," Danny said, firmly. "And you can tell him I said so, too."
The other girl's face fell, so suddenly that Danny hastily rewound the sentence in her mind, looking for something she'd said wrong. Had he just died? No, Olivia had used the present tense. And it wasn't the insult, she'd been laughing right along up until then. "What..." she began.
"I have to go," Olivia blurted. "I'm sorry. I just remembered I'm late for... for an appointment. I'll see you around." She grabbed her basket, and fled the room, without even taking her laundry out of the dryer.
Danny set up her own laundry, then kicked the dryer shut and paid for a cycle; probably wouldn't help, piece of shit that the dryer was, but she might as well. Then she picked up her empty duffel and went slowly back up the stairs.
She'd have to ask Nathan about this, because she didn't have the slightest idea what had just happened.
---
The next time Olivia ran into Danny, it was still in the basement but not in the laundry room. She had gone down there looking for a bit of quiet space to play her flute-- she couldn't do it in her apartment anymore, because her next-door neighbors complained if she went one second over their seven o'clock cutoff time. Soundproofing a crappy little studio apartment was so completely not worth her time, particularly not when there was this nice empty room in the basement of her building that no one ever used.
What Danny was doing there, she had no idea. The other girl sat against the far wall, knees up, arms resting carelessly across the tops. She looked relaxed-- with her head tilted down and her hair all rumpled, she almost looked vulnerable.
Olivia hovered in the doorway, indecisive-- it seemed to be a key element of her interactions with Danny-- before finally clearing her throat, shyly.
Much to her surprise, Danny did not jump, as Gina always had. She only looked up through a fringe of hair and raised an eyebrow. "Hi. Do you not make noise when you move?"
"Not really," Olivia said. "My roommate in college used to get mad at me for it. Am I bothering you?"
Danny shook her head, and pulled a piece of paper out of her lap. "Just reading. The absolute bastard in the apartment next to mine is having very loud sex with at least three other people, so I thought I'd come down here for a little peace and quiet."
Olivia parsed that sentence, thanked God very briefly that she lived across the building and on a different floor, and said, "So I am bothering you."
For some reason, Danny scowled at that. "No. I said I needed peace and quiet, and you're certainly quiet."
"I won't be for long," Olivia said, and held up her flute case. "I came down here to practice. But I can go somewhere else."
Where, she wasn't sure. It was sleeting outside and really freaking cold besides. Maybe she could annoy her neighbors just this once.
Danny shrugged, and got up. "No, I've been here long enough. The absolute bastard should have run out of steam by now. And if he hasn't I can kill his buzz." She smiled a smile that had nothing nice about it at all. "I'm very good at killing people's buzzes."
That smile, under blonde hair, reminded Olivia strongly and uncomfortably of her mother. But time and Gina had eased that instinctive fear enough that she didn't turn and run, only tightened her hands on the handle of her flute case. "I'm sure you are," she said, and changed the subject. "What is that you were reading?"
It was the right question to ask; Danny's expression softened and became something resembling a real smile. "A letter. From my brother Michael. Jerkface hadn't written to me in like a month, so I'm really glad to hear from him."
"You have a brother?" That pleased Olivia; she was an only child herself, and she'd always envied those with siblings. "Older or younger?"
"Younger," Danny said. "Two years. Haven't seen him in a while, but we write. It helps."
"You must be very close." Standing in the doorway was making Olivia feel self-conscious, so she stepped into the room and looked quickly around for rehearsal possibilities. There was a chair, and she could probably prop her sheet music against the flute's case on the table for now. She'd have to get a real music stand sooner or later, though.
"Close enough," Danny said, and there was something in her voice that made Olivia look at her sharply.
"Close enough for what?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
It didn't work. Danny narrowed her eyes, then tossed her head and shrugged. "For siblings, I guess. Look, I have to go. I'll see you around." Before Olivia could object, or even say anything at all, she was gone.
--
Olivia was sitting on the bench outside the front door, shivering, when Danny came home from work.
She stopped in her tracks, and stared. The silly girl wasn't wearing a coat. Hell, she wasn't even wearing a sweater, just a thin white blouse and pants. What the hell did she think she was doing?
"Hey," Danny said, and came closer. "Are you--"
Olivia glanced up, and jumped to her feet. "Oh, thank God, it's you!" she exclaimed, running right over anything else Danny might have said. "I am so sorry, I don't mean to impose, but I locked my keys in my apartment and the superintendent isn't answering his damn call button so could you maybe possibly let me in? Please?"
"Uh, sure," Danny said, taken aback by the flood of words. At least that explained the totally inappropriate dress. "The superintendent's not in. He won't be back until five. Thursdays," she added, by way of explanation.
Judging by Olivia's blank look, it was not enough explanation. Danny sighed, and elaborated. "He has a regular poker game on Thursday afternoons. Starts at one and goes until five. Usually he leaves somebody to cover in case something breaks or people get locked out, but I guess he couldn’t manage it today." She unlocked the front door and shoved it open. "Now get inside. It's like the fucking Arctic out here."
"No kidding," Olivia said, and ducked inside. "Thank you."
Danny shut the door with hinge-rattling force and unwound her scarf. "No sweat. What were you doing out there anyway?"
To her surprise, Olivia blushed. Her cheeks, already flushed from the cold, turned a painful-looking red. "My friend came by to drop this off," she said, and held out a small box. "He could only stay for a couple minutes, so I didn't bother putting a coat on, and I didn't realize I'd forgotten my keys until he was gone."
Uh-huh. Friend. Right. But she'd be merciful. Besides, if Olivia blushed any harder, there was a very real possibility that her face would catch fire. "Ah," Danny said. "What'd he bring by?"
Wrong question-- Olivia did blush harder, though fortunately there were no flames. "My earrings," she said. "I left them at his apartment last night. But it wasn't like that! We're just friends."
"Uh-huh," Danny said, in her driest tones. "You should see if you can change that, I think."
Olivia ducked her head, and her loose hair fell down to cover her face. Danny took the hint and changed the subject. "So, listen, the superintendent isn't going to be back for a while. You want to come up and hang out in my apartment for a while? It'll be more comfortable than lurking around the lobby."
Olivia looked up and gave her a wide-eyed look of surprise, then said, "Um, yes, please, I'd like that. You live on the fourth floor, right?"
"Yup," Danny said. She unlocked her mailbox and was saddened but unsurprised to find it empty. "Apartment two. After you."
--
Danny's apartment was spare and utilitarian, much like her dress. She did have an incredibly ugly but insanely comfortable couch that Olivia immediately coveted, though, and a very pretty set of watercolors on her walls, varying views of a city skyline. She touched the frame of one, noted the signature in the corner; a layered M and S. "These are lovely. What city is this?"
"Thanks," Danny said, sounding absurdly pleased. She stripped off her jacket and hung it in the closet, then bent to work on unlacing her boots. "It's Seattle. My brother lives there-- he's the artist."
"Wow," Olivia said, impressed. "He's good. Does he paint for a living?"
"I'll tell him you said so," Danny said, pulling off her right boot. "And no. He writes travel guides for a living. Some specialty stuff for people with disabilities. He's a good kid."
"He sounds like it," Olivia said. "I wish I had a brother."
The left boot came off. Danny threw both of them into a corner of the closet with a resounding clunk and slid the closet door shut. "Only child?" she asked. "Or just sisters?"
"Only child," Olivia said. And a good thing, too. She'd barely survived until she'd managed to get out. If she'd had a sibling to be responsible for... "I always kind of wanted an older brother, though." Someone to protect her.
"Wise," Danny said. "Being an older sibling is no fun sometimes. You want something to drink?"
Something hot would be wonderful. "Coffee if you have it, please," Olivia said. "You mentioned your brother's younger."
"Oh, I have coffee," Danny said, moving into the kitchen. "Believe me, I have plenty of coffee. Michael turned twenty-two last April."
He'd turned twenty-two? Olivia frowned, making some rapid internal calculations. That would make him... a senior in college? "Does he go to school in Seattle, then?"
Danny popped back around the turn into the kitchen so fast that Olivia first thought she'd seen something bad in there. But no, she was staring at Olivia, and her expression was not a happy one. "He didn't go to college," she said, her tone a challenge. "Neither did I."
Sore spot, Olivia thought, trying not to be intimidated by that frown. Definitely time to back off. "Oh, I see," she said, trying to be as calm as possible. "That's right, you said you were in the Navy."
Something eased in the other girl's expression, and she relaxed. "Do you, like, memorize everything everyone you know says about themselves?"
"Only the interesting people," Olivia said, trying for a joke. Danny smiled, so she must have succeeded.
"Thanks, but you don't need to flatter me to get some coffee. Sit down and I'll get it started."
She settled into the couch; it was just as insanely comfortable as it looked. Olivia wanted to curl up in it and purr. Maybe pull a blanket over her head and have a nap. Then she wouldn’t have to look at the thing.
Hmm. How could she steal this thing? It was a bit too heavy to carry by herself. Maybe she could hire a cat burglar... or a team of them, more likely...
“Coffee,” Danny announced, and deposited a cup on the table in front of the couch. Olivia started, and blinked. God. How close had she been to actually napping?
“Thanks,” she said, rather sheepishly, and reached for the coffee to cover her mistake. She curled her hands around the mug and felt the warmth seep into her bones. “So, um, how long have you lived in New York?”
Danny shrugged, and plopped down on the couch, then propped her feet on the table. Judging from the ease of the motion and the marks on the table, it was not the first time she’d done so. “Not very long. My enlistment was up in April, and I moved to this building specifically in August. I was crashing with Aaron before that.”
Olivia cocked her head. “Aaron? Your boyfriend?”
For some reason, that made Danny laugh, long and hard. “No,” she said, once she got control over herself. “Not even close. He’s more like the big brother I never knew I had.”
“Oh,” Olivia said, trying not to blush again. She’d been doing quite enough of that in this conversation. “He’s a friend, then.”
Danny nodded, and lifted her coffee, but didn’t drink it. “Yeah. His dad’s sort of my mentor. He’s the reason I moved to New York- uh, Nathan, his dad, not Aaron. Though I guess I’m pretty close to Aaron and his sisters now.” She sipped at her coffee, made a face, then asked, “What about you? How long have you been here?”
“Just since May,” Olivia admitted. “That’s when I graduated. I... didn’t really have anywhere specific to go, so I came here.” Danny looked up sharply, and she went on, as fast as she could. “I figured even I should be able to find something to do in New York City. Center of the world, right?” She was starting to babble, she realized suddenly, and cut herself off with an overlarge gulp of coffee, which she realized was too hot about half a second too late.
“You okay there?” Danny asked, her tone a mix of concern and amusement. Oh, well. Olivia deserved the amusement and the concern was nice, and at least Danny wasn’t thinking about whatever had made her stare. “That’s kinda hot.”
“I noticed,” Olivia managed, once she’d swallowed. “Wow. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Just checking,” Danny said, and leaned back. “So, your parents kick you out, or something?”
Damn it, she hadn’t forgotten. “Something,” Olivia said, and shook her head. “It’s not important.”
"Sure it’s not,” Danny muttered. “So who was it?"
Olivia looked at her. Her eyes opened so wide they felt stretched. "Who was what?"
"Who fucked you up?" Danny clarified. "Mother, father, uncle, grandparents, what?"
Heat flared on her cheekbones; she put her hands up to cover it, and looked down to cover the catch in her breath. Nothing hid the stutter in her heartbeat. "I-- I--" What the hell was she supposed to say to that?
Danny looked at her for a moment, then made a faint 'tsk' noise. "It was both my parents who got me," she said, a faint apology in her voice. "Me and my brother. In different ways, of course-- I mean, I was the one who got hit and stuff, and he sort of got smothered-- but you know how it is."
Olivia finally got hold of herself and brought her hands, although the heat stayed high on her cheeks. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said, as calmly as she could manage. "Nobody, ah, fucked me up."
Danny leaned forward. “Come on,” she said. “You can tell me, I’m sure as hell not going to judge. I mean, I lived through it myself. I know what it’s like.” For a moment, her face was terrifyingly bleak. “I know what you do to get out.”
"I'm sorry for what you went through," Olivia said. Her voice was rising, and getting shrill; she heard it at a distance, as if it was a stranger's. "I really am. Nobody should have to go through that. But I think you're projecting. I didn't... nothing happened to me, it wasn't like that!"
The other girl didn't react, only looked at her, expression solemn. "I told you," she said. "I know the signs."
"It wasn't like that," Olivia said. Her face felt like it was on fire. "She never hit me or anything. She just... look, I'm not saying that it was fun, but whatever it was, it wasn't abuse."
Danny looked distinctly unimpressed. "First of all," she said, "you called it abuse, not me. You're right, but I'm just saying, you used the word first. Second, you're honestly telling me that your mom had your best interests at heart."
"Yes," Olivia said, and knew she was lying before it was even out of her mouth. Damn it.
"Uh-huh," Danny said, in the same disbelieving tone of voice she'd used when Olivia told her Jake was just a friend. "'Cause I'm telling you my parents sure as hell weren't thinking about me, and it sounds like your mom didn't care about anybody but herself either. And I don't care what anyone else says, that's abuse."
Olivia shook her head frantically. She was starting to hyperventilate, she couldn't think, her heartbeat was thudding in her ears. "It wasn't abuse," she said. "It didn't happen like that."
I deserved it.
She froze. That had almost slipped out. It had come so close to slipping out, and it wasn't true. She knew it wasn't true. Three and a half years of therapy had convinced her it wasn't true.
So why had she almost said it now?
"Olivia?" That was Danny, looking truly worried now. "Are you okay?"
She couldn't breathe. Everything was falling in on her again and she couldn't breathe.
"I have to go," she gasped, and got up and fled the apartment.
Danny came after her, of course, but she hid in the alcove under the basement stairs, behind the mop and bucket that the janitor kept down there. Eventually, the other girl went away, and Olivia was free to lean her head on her knees and shudder and gasp her way through the worst of it.
God. She needed Gina. Gina knew how to talk her down; she always knew how to make everything seem better again, how to cut a depressive episode off at the pass or shepherd Olivia through it with as little harm done as possible. But Gina was gone, had been for too long, and though they talked online sometimes it wasn't quite the same. You couldn't get hugs online.
Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. Rub temples in circles. Try to calm down. Try to stay calm. Try to just breathe...
Oh, God, she wanted Gina.
Olivia put her head down on her knees and tried not to cry.
--
That had been one of the more disturbing afternoons of Danny's life.
In retrospect, maybe it had been a mistake to bring up the abuse so abruptly. Hers or Olivia's-- it hardly mattered. But then she didn't exactly have that much experience in telling people about it. She'd never mentioned it to anyone during her childhood-- she'd known that they'd just assume her mother was protecting Michael and that she was bitter or feeling neglected-- and then in the Navy she'd been too busy concentrating on being her best, on being stronger.
Nathan... she'd told Nathan. But he'd already known part of it. How, she had no idea, but the point was that she hadn't had to introduce the subject.
God. How did things get so damn awkward, anyway?
It wasn't that late in Washington yet. She picked up the phone and dialed her most reliable confidant.
"Michael," she wailed, as soon as he picked up. "I fucked up."
"Oh boy," Michael said, over the thumping baseline of the background music. "Give me a second?" He mumbled something to whoever he was with-- she caught the words "sister" and "urgent"-- then everything got a lot quieter, and he said, "Okay. Hit me."
Danny paused. "Were you at a club?"
"I might've been," he said, sounding amused. "What's it to you?"
"Just never pictured you with a social life, that's all." She shook her head while he laughed, then added, "Not that I can talk, since I'm fucking mine up all over the place. I think I traumatized this girl who lives in my apartment building."
Michael made soothing noises. "Tell me all about it. "
She filled him in, then asked, "Did I come on too strong? Did I screw up completely?"
There was silence on the other end. Finally, Michael said, "Uh. Wow. Yes, I'd say you did."
"Thanks," Danny said, dryly. "Thanks ever so much."
"Yeah, yeah," he said. "You asked. Look, Danny, did you ever consider that you might be wrong?"
She hadn't, so she considered it then. "No," she said, after a moment. "But here's the thing, Michael, I really don't think I am. She behaves like... well, like, you used to. Doesn't like making outright statements, doesn't like talking about her family, gets flinchy and unhappy when you get mad..."
"I'm so flattered," Michael commented.
"You should be. Seriously, though, what do I do?"
He usually shrugged about now. He couldn't exactly do it over the phone, so Danny imagined him doing it. "An apology might be nice," he said. "Really, though, I got no idea. Make it up as you go, I guess."
"Story of my life," she said, dryly. Someone knocked, and she blinked, then said, "Someone's knocking, I gotta go. Return to your social life."
"Michael away," he said. "Good luck, Danny."
"Thanks," she said, and hung up.
As she'd half-expected, Olivia stood on the other side of her door, eyes cast down, holding a tupperware container.
"I'm sorry I freaked out on you earlier," she said, quietly. "I didn't mean to."
"It's okay," Danny said, feeling awkward. "I was too abrupt about it. Not everybody's okay with talking about... stuff."
Olivia shrugged, and shifted her weight. "It's not that. Not quite that, anyway. Um, can I come in?"
"Sure," Danny said. She backed up and held the door open, then added, "Frankly, I'm surprised you still want to."
The other girl cracked a tiny smile. "I don't know that I want to, necessarily, but I think I owe you an explanation. And, um, I made you cookies." She held up the tupperware a little. "To make up for the whole freaking-out thing. I really am sorry about that, by the way. I haven't done that since sophomore year."
Danny stopped, blinked, and stared at her for a moment. "Well, uh, thanks for the cookies, but that's really not necessary."
The tiny smile got a little bit larger. "It's all right. Besides, once the super let me back into my apartment, I had to do something to stop panicking, and baking's pretty good for that. It's something I have to concentrate on, you know, so I stop thinking."
"Fair enough," Danny said, although she wasn't sure she understood a word of that. She took the tupperware from Olivia, dithered a minute about where to put it, set it down more or less at random and ducked into the next room, to see Olivia sitting on the couch, back ramrod straight and legs crossed at the ankle, staring out the window. She looked like someone facing a tribunal.
She looked, in fact, like Michael had, whenever they'd had to face their parents after an adventure. If Danny hadn't been sure before, she was now.
"It's not all her fault," Olivia said suddenly, still staring out the window. "It's part of... of everything, but it's not all. I've got clinical depression and chronic anxiety, and those screw me over just as often as anything she did. That's what happened this afternoon; they tried to take over again."
Danny spent several very confused moments trying to figure out what the hell Olivia was talking about before remembering that 'she' must be her mother. "Oh," she said, suddenly on very uncertain footing. "If it helps at all, I really, really don't mind. I know where you're coming from, some. Like I said, my parents did their best to completely fuck me up."
"That’s the thing though," she said, her hands twisting in her lap. "What she did... I don't know if I can call it that. I mean, I don't know if... I just... she's my mother. She didn't help, but I don't know if I can call it..." She stopped, dropped her eyes to her hands, and stilled them with a visible effort.
"Abuse," Danny finished, and sighed inwardly. "That's okay. It takes you a while." It hadn't taken her very long at all, but then she'd been angry, hurting, lashing out. Michael still wouldn't use the a-word, at least not in connection to their parents. "It's hard to let yourself believe it's true."
"I guess that's how you guessed?" Olivia ventured. She looked at Danny, finally, eyes wide and unsure. "About me, I mean. What she did. Because you lived through it too."
"Sort of," Danny said. "More because my brother went through it too. I ended up angry, he ended up, um, trying to please people. Trying to keep everyone happy." She let that hang on the air for a moment, then wondered if she'd only managed to alienate Olivia more.
Fortunately for her nerves, Olivia nodded, and smiled a crooked little smile. "That sounds like me," she said. "More, before I met Gina-- that's my best friend, Gina. She, um, she helped me see that it was okay to not please people all the time. But old habits are hard to break."
"Yeah," Danny said. "Michael still does it, without even thinking about it. I lash out. I might've done that to you a couple times, I dunno. I'm a lot better about it these days."
"Me too," Olivia said, then bent her head forward suddenly, her hair falling forward to hide her face. Probably a defense mechanism. "I don't think you ever barked at me, though."
Well, that was good, anyway. "Okay."
Awkward silence fell.
Danny was about to break it when Olivia beat her to it, words spilling out in a sudden, hysterical rush. "See, that's why this thing with Jake can't go anywhere. I mean, I'm so messed up in the head, and he's so wonderful, I just can't imagine pulling him down with me." She leaned down, dug her hands into her curly hair. "I can't do that to him, Danny."
Where the hell that had come from... okay, whatever, girl clearly didn't have anyone else to talk to, Danny was going to help as best she could. "It's kind of his decision to make, don't you think?" she asked, carefully. "I mean, he cares about you. Tell him what's up and let him decide whether he wants to go for it."
Olivia shook her head, frantically. "I can't. I can't. If he knows how messed up I am he won't even want to be around me and he's my only friend these days, now that Gina's back at home. I cannot lose that. I can't."
A sudden swell of pity filled Danny's chest; pity, and something more, understanding. Olivia was a little different about it, of course-- more shy, more withdrawn, her eyes sadder, her hands interlaced instead of fisted-- but in the tense lines of her posture, Danny could see a thin blonde girl in boot camp, fighting anyone who'd take her bait.
And she could see a middle-aged architect, who took time out of his day to sit down and ask his tour guide how she was doing.
"Well," she said. "I wouldn't say he's your only friend."
Olivia looked up sharply, curls tumbling, to meet Danny's smile, and gave a tentative one of her own back. "Really?"
"Really," Danny said, and smiled more broadly. "I'm not real good at this girl thing, but I'm pretty sure this calls for chocolate. Let's break out those cookies, and I'll do my best to help, okay?"
"Sounds good to me," Olivia said, and that tentative smile became something more real.
--
"I did a good thing today, Michael," Danny said, when she called him back.
"Awesome," Michael said. There was a smile in his voice, a real one, a strong one, that made Danny smile herself, to hear it. "Tell me all about it."
Main Story: In The Heart
Flavors, Toppings, Extras: Rum raisin 14 (benefactor), rocky road 9 (basement), malt (PFAH: Danny, Olivia: For Whom the Bell Tolls), brownie, fresh pineapple (When I'm falling down/Will you pick me up again? --Watercolour, Pendulum).
Word Count: 5471
Rating: PG-13, for possibly triggering discussions (child abuse).
Summary: Olivia and Danny have more in common than they thought.
Notes: Hey, you know I love you guys, but I've had a crappy couple of days, so no criticism on this one, please-- unless I've screwed up something epic, but w/e. Thanks.
Olivia first met Danny in a basement.
She paused on the lintel, a bit surprised, though not sure why. The young woman folding clothes in the basement laundry room was hardly unusual. The smooth cap of golden hair and the slim, strong body of an acrobat made her look like a dancer, and there were many aspiring dancers and actors renting pieces of this building. Olivia herself was one of them. Nothing to wonder at.
And yet this girl did not move like a dancer, not at all. Olivia had been a dancer, once... dancers moved precisely and gracefully, without a wasted movement. This woman had that precision, but there was no grace about it, only efficiency, and a guarded wariness that was horribly, painfully familiar.
Olivia shoved that thought down. Not here. Not now.
"What are you looking at?" the woman asked, without looking up from her laundry.
Olivia jumped, and lost her train of thought completely. "Um, I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to stare."
The young woman shrugged, and dropped the last folded piece of clothing into her bag. "Apology accepted. Don't do it again." She hoisted the bag onto her back, and turned to go.
Olivia got out of her way, swinging her own laundry basket to the side to make room. But she couldn't let it go, not at that.
"I'm Olivia," she blurted, just as the other woman passed her. "Olivia Marhenke. I live on the third floor."
The woman paused, and gave her an incredulous look that slowly melted into an unreadable expression. "Danny," she said, at last. "Fourth."
"Danny?" Olivia hadn’t meant to say it, but... really, Danny?
Something that might have been a smile flickered over Danny's face. "Yeah, well... it's really Daniella, but I hate that name. So call me Danny."
"Okay," Olivia said, and tried a smile back. "Danny. Nice to meet you."
"Nice to meet you, too," Danny said, without any real interest, and was gone.
At the time, Olivia fully expected to never see her again.
---
The girl with the curly hair, whose name Danny knew but could not for the life of her remember, was fighting with the dryer when she came in.
Literally fighting. There was kicking involved, and a smack or two, and Danny hadn't heard swearing that varied since her last tour of duty. Impressed, she slung her bag of laundry off her shoulder and let it hit the ground with a thump.
The girl didn't seem to hear, but then, how could she, when she was swearing so creatively? "--fucking piece of crap!" she half-screamed, then delivered a final kick to the dryer that made its door rattle.
"Did the dryer run over your puppy or something?" Danny inquired, dryly.
The girl-- Olivia, that was her name, Olivia-- jumped, and pivoted on her heel, neatly, like a dancer. Her expression, on the other hand, was not at all neat. She looked shocked, and a little bit horrified, sliding rapidly into mortified. "Oh, God, I'm so sorry, I didn't think anyone was there."
"Clearly," Danny said, and then had mercy on her and said, "Don't worry, I've heard worse."
Olivia shook her head, and looked everywhere but at Danny, a deep blush coloring her cheeks. "I really am sorry. It's just that I've fed two dollars into it and my clothes still aren't dry."
Danny nodded. "Seems worthy of swearing," she said, and pulled open a washer's door. She began stuffing her clothes in.
Somehow, Olivia managed to color even the silence the faint purple of embarrassment.
Finally, Danny rolled her eyes and straightened up, meeting the other girl's gaze. "Look. You can't shock me, I promise. I'm in the Navy."
The girl blinked, and cocked her head. "Really? "
"Really," Danny said, and hip-checked the washer's door shut. "Reservist, now." Her four-year enlistment had run out in April-- four years to the day since Michael's eighteenth birthday-- and after lengthy consideration and consultation with Nathan and Michael, she'd decided not to re-enlist, at least not immediately. The Navy had given her all it could, for the moment. Time to try the real world on for size.
"Oh," Olivia said, her brown eyes very wide. God, she seemed so damn young, younger than Michael, even. Was she even old enough to be out of college? "Wow, that is so cool."
Danny cracked a smile. "Like a uniform, do you?"
Olivia shook her head, curls flying. "No, no. My grandfather's a veteran, though, and I used to hear a lot of stories, growing up."
"Oh, yeah?" Danny looked up from the handful of change she'd dug out of her pocket. "What branch?"
"Air Force," Olivia said. "He used to go on bombing runs over Germany."
"Chair Force is for losers," Danny commented, without any particular heat. She fished five quarters from the coins in her palm and set them down on the washer's surface, enjoying the bright clash of metal on metal. "Navy's where all the cool people are at."
Olivia giggled. "Granddad says that the Navy's a bunch of waterheads."
"Yeah, well, your granddad's wrong," Danny said, firmly. "And you can tell him I said so, too."
The other girl's face fell, so suddenly that Danny hastily rewound the sentence in her mind, looking for something she'd said wrong. Had he just died? No, Olivia had used the present tense. And it wasn't the insult, she'd been laughing right along up until then. "What..." she began.
"I have to go," Olivia blurted. "I'm sorry. I just remembered I'm late for... for an appointment. I'll see you around." She grabbed her basket, and fled the room, without even taking her laundry out of the dryer.
Danny set up her own laundry, then kicked the dryer shut and paid for a cycle; probably wouldn't help, piece of shit that the dryer was, but she might as well. Then she picked up her empty duffel and went slowly back up the stairs.
She'd have to ask Nathan about this, because she didn't have the slightest idea what had just happened.
---
The next time Olivia ran into Danny, it was still in the basement but not in the laundry room. She had gone down there looking for a bit of quiet space to play her flute-- she couldn't do it in her apartment anymore, because her next-door neighbors complained if she went one second over their seven o'clock cutoff time. Soundproofing a crappy little studio apartment was so completely not worth her time, particularly not when there was this nice empty room in the basement of her building that no one ever used.
What Danny was doing there, she had no idea. The other girl sat against the far wall, knees up, arms resting carelessly across the tops. She looked relaxed-- with her head tilted down and her hair all rumpled, she almost looked vulnerable.
Olivia hovered in the doorway, indecisive-- it seemed to be a key element of her interactions with Danny-- before finally clearing her throat, shyly.
Much to her surprise, Danny did not jump, as Gina always had. She only looked up through a fringe of hair and raised an eyebrow. "Hi. Do you not make noise when you move?"
"Not really," Olivia said. "My roommate in college used to get mad at me for it. Am I bothering you?"
Danny shook her head, and pulled a piece of paper out of her lap. "Just reading. The absolute bastard in the apartment next to mine is having very loud sex with at least three other people, so I thought I'd come down here for a little peace and quiet."
Olivia parsed that sentence, thanked God very briefly that she lived across the building and on a different floor, and said, "So I am bothering you."
For some reason, Danny scowled at that. "No. I said I needed peace and quiet, and you're certainly quiet."
"I won't be for long," Olivia said, and held up her flute case. "I came down here to practice. But I can go somewhere else."
Where, she wasn't sure. It was sleeting outside and really freaking cold besides. Maybe she could annoy her neighbors just this once.
Danny shrugged, and got up. "No, I've been here long enough. The absolute bastard should have run out of steam by now. And if he hasn't I can kill his buzz." She smiled a smile that had nothing nice about it at all. "I'm very good at killing people's buzzes."
That smile, under blonde hair, reminded Olivia strongly and uncomfortably of her mother. But time and Gina had eased that instinctive fear enough that she didn't turn and run, only tightened her hands on the handle of her flute case. "I'm sure you are," she said, and changed the subject. "What is that you were reading?"
It was the right question to ask; Danny's expression softened and became something resembling a real smile. "A letter. From my brother Michael. Jerkface hadn't written to me in like a month, so I'm really glad to hear from him."
"You have a brother?" That pleased Olivia; she was an only child herself, and she'd always envied those with siblings. "Older or younger?"
"Younger," Danny said. "Two years. Haven't seen him in a while, but we write. It helps."
"You must be very close." Standing in the doorway was making Olivia feel self-conscious, so she stepped into the room and looked quickly around for rehearsal possibilities. There was a chair, and she could probably prop her sheet music against the flute's case on the table for now. She'd have to get a real music stand sooner or later, though.
"Close enough," Danny said, and there was something in her voice that made Olivia look at her sharply.
"Close enough for what?" she asked, trying to sound casual.
It didn't work. Danny narrowed her eyes, then tossed her head and shrugged. "For siblings, I guess. Look, I have to go. I'll see you around." Before Olivia could object, or even say anything at all, she was gone.
--
Olivia was sitting on the bench outside the front door, shivering, when Danny came home from work.
She stopped in her tracks, and stared. The silly girl wasn't wearing a coat. Hell, she wasn't even wearing a sweater, just a thin white blouse and pants. What the hell did she think she was doing?
"Hey," Danny said, and came closer. "Are you--"
Olivia glanced up, and jumped to her feet. "Oh, thank God, it's you!" she exclaimed, running right over anything else Danny might have said. "I am so sorry, I don't mean to impose, but I locked my keys in my apartment and the superintendent isn't answering his damn call button so could you maybe possibly let me in? Please?"
"Uh, sure," Danny said, taken aback by the flood of words. At least that explained the totally inappropriate dress. "The superintendent's not in. He won't be back until five. Thursdays," she added, by way of explanation.
Judging by Olivia's blank look, it was not enough explanation. Danny sighed, and elaborated. "He has a regular poker game on Thursday afternoons. Starts at one and goes until five. Usually he leaves somebody to cover in case something breaks or people get locked out, but I guess he couldn’t manage it today." She unlocked the front door and shoved it open. "Now get inside. It's like the fucking Arctic out here."
"No kidding," Olivia said, and ducked inside. "Thank you."
Danny shut the door with hinge-rattling force and unwound her scarf. "No sweat. What were you doing out there anyway?"
To her surprise, Olivia blushed. Her cheeks, already flushed from the cold, turned a painful-looking red. "My friend came by to drop this off," she said, and held out a small box. "He could only stay for a couple minutes, so I didn't bother putting a coat on, and I didn't realize I'd forgotten my keys until he was gone."
Uh-huh. Friend. Right. But she'd be merciful. Besides, if Olivia blushed any harder, there was a very real possibility that her face would catch fire. "Ah," Danny said. "What'd he bring by?"
Wrong question-- Olivia did blush harder, though fortunately there were no flames. "My earrings," she said. "I left them at his apartment last night. But it wasn't like that! We're just friends."
"Uh-huh," Danny said, in her driest tones. "You should see if you can change that, I think."
Olivia ducked her head, and her loose hair fell down to cover her face. Danny took the hint and changed the subject. "So, listen, the superintendent isn't going to be back for a while. You want to come up and hang out in my apartment for a while? It'll be more comfortable than lurking around the lobby."
Olivia looked up and gave her a wide-eyed look of surprise, then said, "Um, yes, please, I'd like that. You live on the fourth floor, right?"
"Yup," Danny said. She unlocked her mailbox and was saddened but unsurprised to find it empty. "Apartment two. After you."
--
Danny's apartment was spare and utilitarian, much like her dress. She did have an incredibly ugly but insanely comfortable couch that Olivia immediately coveted, though, and a very pretty set of watercolors on her walls, varying views of a city skyline. She touched the frame of one, noted the signature in the corner; a layered M and S. "These are lovely. What city is this?"
"Thanks," Danny said, sounding absurdly pleased. She stripped off her jacket and hung it in the closet, then bent to work on unlacing her boots. "It's Seattle. My brother lives there-- he's the artist."
"Wow," Olivia said, impressed. "He's good. Does he paint for a living?"
"I'll tell him you said so," Danny said, pulling off her right boot. "And no. He writes travel guides for a living. Some specialty stuff for people with disabilities. He's a good kid."
"He sounds like it," Olivia said. "I wish I had a brother."
The left boot came off. Danny threw both of them into a corner of the closet with a resounding clunk and slid the closet door shut. "Only child?" she asked. "Or just sisters?"
"Only child," Olivia said. And a good thing, too. She'd barely survived until she'd managed to get out. If she'd had a sibling to be responsible for... "I always kind of wanted an older brother, though." Someone to protect her.
"Wise," Danny said. "Being an older sibling is no fun sometimes. You want something to drink?"
Something hot would be wonderful. "Coffee if you have it, please," Olivia said. "You mentioned your brother's younger."
"Oh, I have coffee," Danny said, moving into the kitchen. "Believe me, I have plenty of coffee. Michael turned twenty-two last April."
He'd turned twenty-two? Olivia frowned, making some rapid internal calculations. That would make him... a senior in college? "Does he go to school in Seattle, then?"
Danny popped back around the turn into the kitchen so fast that Olivia first thought she'd seen something bad in there. But no, she was staring at Olivia, and her expression was not a happy one. "He didn't go to college," she said, her tone a challenge. "Neither did I."
Sore spot, Olivia thought, trying not to be intimidated by that frown. Definitely time to back off. "Oh, I see," she said, trying to be as calm as possible. "That's right, you said you were in the Navy."
Something eased in the other girl's expression, and she relaxed. "Do you, like, memorize everything everyone you know says about themselves?"
"Only the interesting people," Olivia said, trying for a joke. Danny smiled, so she must have succeeded.
"Thanks, but you don't need to flatter me to get some coffee. Sit down and I'll get it started."
She settled into the couch; it was just as insanely comfortable as it looked. Olivia wanted to curl up in it and purr. Maybe pull a blanket over her head and have a nap. Then she wouldn’t have to look at the thing.
Hmm. How could she steal this thing? It was a bit too heavy to carry by herself. Maybe she could hire a cat burglar... or a team of them, more likely...
“Coffee,” Danny announced, and deposited a cup on the table in front of the couch. Olivia started, and blinked. God. How close had she been to actually napping?
“Thanks,” she said, rather sheepishly, and reached for the coffee to cover her mistake. She curled her hands around the mug and felt the warmth seep into her bones. “So, um, how long have you lived in New York?”
Danny shrugged, and plopped down on the couch, then propped her feet on the table. Judging from the ease of the motion and the marks on the table, it was not the first time she’d done so. “Not very long. My enlistment was up in April, and I moved to this building specifically in August. I was crashing with Aaron before that.”
Olivia cocked her head. “Aaron? Your boyfriend?”
For some reason, that made Danny laugh, long and hard. “No,” she said, once she got control over herself. “Not even close. He’s more like the big brother I never knew I had.”
“Oh,” Olivia said, trying not to blush again. She’d been doing quite enough of that in this conversation. “He’s a friend, then.”
Danny nodded, and lifted her coffee, but didn’t drink it. “Yeah. His dad’s sort of my mentor. He’s the reason I moved to New York- uh, Nathan, his dad, not Aaron. Though I guess I’m pretty close to Aaron and his sisters now.” She sipped at her coffee, made a face, then asked, “What about you? How long have you been here?”
“Just since May,” Olivia admitted. “That’s when I graduated. I... didn’t really have anywhere specific to go, so I came here.” Danny looked up sharply, and she went on, as fast as she could. “I figured even I should be able to find something to do in New York City. Center of the world, right?” She was starting to babble, she realized suddenly, and cut herself off with an overlarge gulp of coffee, which she realized was too hot about half a second too late.
“You okay there?” Danny asked, her tone a mix of concern and amusement. Oh, well. Olivia deserved the amusement and the concern was nice, and at least Danny wasn’t thinking about whatever had made her stare. “That’s kinda hot.”
“I noticed,” Olivia managed, once she’d swallowed. “Wow. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Just checking,” Danny said, and leaned back. “So, your parents kick you out, or something?”
Damn it, she hadn’t forgotten. “Something,” Olivia said, and shook her head. “It’s not important.”
"Sure it’s not,” Danny muttered. “So who was it?"
Olivia looked at her. Her eyes opened so wide they felt stretched. "Who was what?"
"Who fucked you up?" Danny clarified. "Mother, father, uncle, grandparents, what?"
Heat flared on her cheekbones; she put her hands up to cover it, and looked down to cover the catch in her breath. Nothing hid the stutter in her heartbeat. "I-- I--" What the hell was she supposed to say to that?
Danny looked at her for a moment, then made a faint 'tsk' noise. "It was both my parents who got me," she said, a faint apology in her voice. "Me and my brother. In different ways, of course-- I mean, I was the one who got hit and stuff, and he sort of got smothered-- but you know how it is."
Olivia finally got hold of herself and brought her hands, although the heat stayed high on her cheeks. "I'm not sure what you're talking about," she said, as calmly as she could manage. "Nobody, ah, fucked me up."
Danny leaned forward. “Come on,” she said. “You can tell me, I’m sure as hell not going to judge. I mean, I lived through it myself. I know what it’s like.” For a moment, her face was terrifyingly bleak. “I know what you do to get out.”
"I'm sorry for what you went through," Olivia said. Her voice was rising, and getting shrill; she heard it at a distance, as if it was a stranger's. "I really am. Nobody should have to go through that. But I think you're projecting. I didn't... nothing happened to me, it wasn't like that!"
The other girl didn't react, only looked at her, expression solemn. "I told you," she said. "I know the signs."
"It wasn't like that," Olivia said. Her face felt like it was on fire. "She never hit me or anything. She just... look, I'm not saying that it was fun, but whatever it was, it wasn't abuse."
Danny looked distinctly unimpressed. "First of all," she said, "you called it abuse, not me. You're right, but I'm just saying, you used the word first. Second, you're honestly telling me that your mom had your best interests at heart."
"Yes," Olivia said, and knew she was lying before it was even out of her mouth. Damn it.
"Uh-huh," Danny said, in the same disbelieving tone of voice she'd used when Olivia told her Jake was just a friend. "'Cause I'm telling you my parents sure as hell weren't thinking about me, and it sounds like your mom didn't care about anybody but herself either. And I don't care what anyone else says, that's abuse."
Olivia shook her head frantically. She was starting to hyperventilate, she couldn't think, her heartbeat was thudding in her ears. "It wasn't abuse," she said. "It didn't happen like that."
I deserved it.
She froze. That had almost slipped out. It had come so close to slipping out, and it wasn't true. She knew it wasn't true. Three and a half years of therapy had convinced her it wasn't true.
So why had she almost said it now?
"Olivia?" That was Danny, looking truly worried now. "Are you okay?"
She couldn't breathe. Everything was falling in on her again and she couldn't breathe.
"I have to go," she gasped, and got up and fled the apartment.
Danny came after her, of course, but she hid in the alcove under the basement stairs, behind the mop and bucket that the janitor kept down there. Eventually, the other girl went away, and Olivia was free to lean her head on her knees and shudder and gasp her way through the worst of it.
God. She needed Gina. Gina knew how to talk her down; she always knew how to make everything seem better again, how to cut a depressive episode off at the pass or shepherd Olivia through it with as little harm done as possible. But Gina was gone, had been for too long, and though they talked online sometimes it wasn't quite the same. You couldn't get hugs online.
Inhale through the nose. Exhale through the mouth. Rub temples in circles. Try to calm down. Try to stay calm. Try to just breathe...
Oh, God, she wanted Gina.
Olivia put her head down on her knees and tried not to cry.
--
That had been one of the more disturbing afternoons of Danny's life.
In retrospect, maybe it had been a mistake to bring up the abuse so abruptly. Hers or Olivia's-- it hardly mattered. But then she didn't exactly have that much experience in telling people about it. She'd never mentioned it to anyone during her childhood-- she'd known that they'd just assume her mother was protecting Michael and that she was bitter or feeling neglected-- and then in the Navy she'd been too busy concentrating on being her best, on being stronger.
Nathan... she'd told Nathan. But he'd already known part of it. How, she had no idea, but the point was that she hadn't had to introduce the subject.
God. How did things get so damn awkward, anyway?
It wasn't that late in Washington yet. She picked up the phone and dialed her most reliable confidant.
"Michael," she wailed, as soon as he picked up. "I fucked up."
"Oh boy," Michael said, over the thumping baseline of the background music. "Give me a second?" He mumbled something to whoever he was with-- she caught the words "sister" and "urgent"-- then everything got a lot quieter, and he said, "Okay. Hit me."
Danny paused. "Were you at a club?"
"I might've been," he said, sounding amused. "What's it to you?"
"Just never pictured you with a social life, that's all." She shook her head while he laughed, then added, "Not that I can talk, since I'm fucking mine up all over the place. I think I traumatized this girl who lives in my apartment building."
Michael made soothing noises. "Tell me all about it. "
She filled him in, then asked, "Did I come on too strong? Did I screw up completely?"
There was silence on the other end. Finally, Michael said, "Uh. Wow. Yes, I'd say you did."
"Thanks," Danny said, dryly. "Thanks ever so much."
"Yeah, yeah," he said. "You asked. Look, Danny, did you ever consider that you might be wrong?"
She hadn't, so she considered it then. "No," she said, after a moment. "But here's the thing, Michael, I really don't think I am. She behaves like... well, like, you used to. Doesn't like making outright statements, doesn't like talking about her family, gets flinchy and unhappy when you get mad..."
"I'm so flattered," Michael commented.
"You should be. Seriously, though, what do I do?"
He usually shrugged about now. He couldn't exactly do it over the phone, so Danny imagined him doing it. "An apology might be nice," he said. "Really, though, I got no idea. Make it up as you go, I guess."
"Story of my life," she said, dryly. Someone knocked, and she blinked, then said, "Someone's knocking, I gotta go. Return to your social life."
"Michael away," he said. "Good luck, Danny."
"Thanks," she said, and hung up.
As she'd half-expected, Olivia stood on the other side of her door, eyes cast down, holding a tupperware container.
"I'm sorry I freaked out on you earlier," she said, quietly. "I didn't mean to."
"It's okay," Danny said, feeling awkward. "I was too abrupt about it. Not everybody's okay with talking about... stuff."
Olivia shrugged, and shifted her weight. "It's not that. Not quite that, anyway. Um, can I come in?"
"Sure," Danny said. She backed up and held the door open, then added, "Frankly, I'm surprised you still want to."
The other girl cracked a tiny smile. "I don't know that I want to, necessarily, but I think I owe you an explanation. And, um, I made you cookies." She held up the tupperware a little. "To make up for the whole freaking-out thing. I really am sorry about that, by the way. I haven't done that since sophomore year."
Danny stopped, blinked, and stared at her for a moment. "Well, uh, thanks for the cookies, but that's really not necessary."
The tiny smile got a little bit larger. "It's all right. Besides, once the super let me back into my apartment, I had to do something to stop panicking, and baking's pretty good for that. It's something I have to concentrate on, you know, so I stop thinking."
"Fair enough," Danny said, although she wasn't sure she understood a word of that. She took the tupperware from Olivia, dithered a minute about where to put it, set it down more or less at random and ducked into the next room, to see Olivia sitting on the couch, back ramrod straight and legs crossed at the ankle, staring out the window. She looked like someone facing a tribunal.
She looked, in fact, like Michael had, whenever they'd had to face their parents after an adventure. If Danny hadn't been sure before, she was now.
"It's not all her fault," Olivia said suddenly, still staring out the window. "It's part of... of everything, but it's not all. I've got clinical depression and chronic anxiety, and those screw me over just as often as anything she did. That's what happened this afternoon; they tried to take over again."
Danny spent several very confused moments trying to figure out what the hell Olivia was talking about before remembering that 'she' must be her mother. "Oh," she said, suddenly on very uncertain footing. "If it helps at all, I really, really don't mind. I know where you're coming from, some. Like I said, my parents did their best to completely fuck me up."
"That’s the thing though," she said, her hands twisting in her lap. "What she did... I don't know if I can call it that. I mean, I don't know if... I just... she's my mother. She didn't help, but I don't know if I can call it..." She stopped, dropped her eyes to her hands, and stilled them with a visible effort.
"Abuse," Danny finished, and sighed inwardly. "That's okay. It takes you a while." It hadn't taken her very long at all, but then she'd been angry, hurting, lashing out. Michael still wouldn't use the a-word, at least not in connection to their parents. "It's hard to let yourself believe it's true."
"I guess that's how you guessed?" Olivia ventured. She looked at Danny, finally, eyes wide and unsure. "About me, I mean. What she did. Because you lived through it too."
"Sort of," Danny said. "More because my brother went through it too. I ended up angry, he ended up, um, trying to please people. Trying to keep everyone happy." She let that hang on the air for a moment, then wondered if she'd only managed to alienate Olivia more.
Fortunately for her nerves, Olivia nodded, and smiled a crooked little smile. "That sounds like me," she said. "More, before I met Gina-- that's my best friend, Gina. She, um, she helped me see that it was okay to not please people all the time. But old habits are hard to break."
"Yeah," Danny said. "Michael still does it, without even thinking about it. I lash out. I might've done that to you a couple times, I dunno. I'm a lot better about it these days."
"Me too," Olivia said, then bent her head forward suddenly, her hair falling forward to hide her face. Probably a defense mechanism. "I don't think you ever barked at me, though."
Well, that was good, anyway. "Okay."
Awkward silence fell.
Danny was about to break it when Olivia beat her to it, words spilling out in a sudden, hysterical rush. "See, that's why this thing with Jake can't go anywhere. I mean, I'm so messed up in the head, and he's so wonderful, I just can't imagine pulling him down with me." She leaned down, dug her hands into her curly hair. "I can't do that to him, Danny."
Where the hell that had come from... okay, whatever, girl clearly didn't have anyone else to talk to, Danny was going to help as best she could. "It's kind of his decision to make, don't you think?" she asked, carefully. "I mean, he cares about you. Tell him what's up and let him decide whether he wants to go for it."
Olivia shook her head, frantically. "I can't. I can't. If he knows how messed up I am he won't even want to be around me and he's my only friend these days, now that Gina's back at home. I cannot lose that. I can't."
A sudden swell of pity filled Danny's chest; pity, and something more, understanding. Olivia was a little different about it, of course-- more shy, more withdrawn, her eyes sadder, her hands interlaced instead of fisted-- but in the tense lines of her posture, Danny could see a thin blonde girl in boot camp, fighting anyone who'd take her bait.
And she could see a middle-aged architect, who took time out of his day to sit down and ask his tour guide how she was doing.
"Well," she said. "I wouldn't say he's your only friend."
Olivia looked up sharply, curls tumbling, to meet Danny's smile, and gave a tentative one of her own back. "Really?"
"Really," Danny said, and smiled more broadly. "I'm not real good at this girl thing, but I'm pretty sure this calls for chocolate. Let's break out those cookies, and I'll do my best to help, okay?"
"Sounds good to me," Olivia said, and that tentative smile became something more real.
--
"I did a good thing today, Michael," Danny said, when she called him back.
"Awesome," Michael said. There was a smile in his voice, a real one, a strong one, that made Danny smile herself, to hear it. "Tell me all about it."