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Rhona was on her way back from physical therapy when she finally pulled up Lavender's number. She couldn't avoid this forever. She couldn't just not address the fact that she'd been a s**t girlfriend over the course of the time that they'd spent in Altea's prison. She couldn't just not address the fact that even though she had meant to make things easier by going off alone to seek treatment, she had only hurt Lavender more. Lavender deserved better than that.

She deserved better than Rhona.

The realization stung, but Rhona knew that it was true. She didn't want to lose Lavender... she was beautiful and kind and smart. Creative and so so special. But she also felt a deep need to protect her... even if that meant that she would be protecting her from herself. She fidgeted with the phone in her hands, turning it over and over while she decided on her choice of words. This next text would be everything. The tone would set the expectations for their meeting. Emojis or no? Rhona decided on no. It would sound too disingenuous. Like she wasn't taking things seriously.

Rhona must have drafted the text seven times on the uber home before she finally sent something.

Hey Lav. If you've got time today, I would really like to talk to you. Can we meet at the coffee shop by my house? ~Rho

She hoped that the message sounded... good enough. It was the only description that she could conjure into her mind. Good enough for whatever Lavender needed.

When Rhona got the message, she was a little stunned. She hadn't really expected Lavender to reply, certain that she would instead be waiting days for a reply, if at all. Rhona deserved as much with how she had treated Lavender. So when Rhona's phone dinged she had expected it to be Xi-Wang or Jason or literally anyone else. When she saw the name, the gears in her mind ground to a halt. Wait. She responded... right away? Rhona looked stupidly at the tea kettle heating on the stove, trying to divine what she meant, even though she had stated it in clear language. Something in her heart lighted when she finally understood what this meant and she nearly ripped her stitches dashing from the kitchen counter where her electric kettle hummed and grabbing her cane from beside the door.

When she bolted into the cafe, Rhona took a short moment to gather herself and pull the mats from her hair that had gathered on her mad dash (or as mad of a dash as she could manage in her condition). Panting, she gazed around the cafe until her eyes lighted on Lavender. She tried to make her limp less noticeable, but with the cane the task was difficult.

"Hey Lavender," Rhona kept her voice soft and tried to keep the excitement from it, "thanks for meeting me. I owe you... well I owe you a lot, actually..." But where did she start? If she just began explaining herself it was like she was excusing her behavior and she couldn't do that. So she stood, leaning heavily on her cane, wishing that she could have done every last little thing all over from the very beginning. From day one when they had met and Rhona was powered up and drunk.

All of the I Should Haves and I Could Haves whirled around Rhona's mind like a storm while she stared first at Lavender and then, after a few brief seconds, at the table before her, and then finally the floor. In the end, the single statement that needed to be spoke stood out amoung the torrent of words and slipped, unbidden, from her lips.

"Tell me what you need to tell me," she finally said, sinking into the chair opposite Lavender.

Rhona leaned forward when Lavender sputtered, reaching out to help for just a moment before she pulled back again. What even would she do in that moment? Forget about her injuries, just in general. She felt like she’d dug this huge fissure between the two of them and even though she kept trying to throw in fistfuls of dirt, it wouldn’t matter. Not unless she had the right tools…

Lavender’s expression cut her deeply. Her words cut her deeper still. She was right, of course. Rhona had called her here, and now it looked like she was trying to cop out of a tough conversation when all she wanted to do was hand Lavender the reigns. Rhona fiddled with the hem of her shirt for a quiet moment before she spoke again, trying to give weight to her voice when all she wanted to do was whisper. She forced herself to look up at Lavender, her eyebrows knitted in concentration. She wanted this to sound exactly right. She wanted there to be no way that Lavender wouldn’t understand what she was trying to say.

“You’re right. I just… You’re right. I wanted to apologize for… leaving. But apologize isn’t even the right word. Explain myself?” Rhona glanced around to make sure that no one was in earshot and continued with her voice lowered, “Lavender... I thought that I was dying. I didn’t want anyone to be party to that, least of all you. And then when I wasn’t dead… I didn’t know what to do… or what to tell you. I’m sorry. I should have texted, I’m sorry…” And then she ran out of words. Rhona sat forward for a few moments longer, mouth opening and closing like she had something more to say but… there was nothing. So she sat back and stared at her hands.

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. Again. And you don’t have to accept it but… there it is.”

Rhona flinched when Lavender spoke, curling in on herself with every word. This was what she had been afraid of. Justified rage. That everything Lavender said would be so true that it hurt. She had been neglectful. She had been a terrible girlfriend. Not even just that. She’d been a terrible person. Rhona tucked her chin into her chest and took the blows because what else could she do? There was no fighting back because she had to ground to stand on. She hadn’t left herself any. Rhona scrubbed at her eyes, ignoring the trembling of her chin because she didn’t deserve to cry. She didn’t deserve to feel anything. So she took Lavender’s blows and burrowed in on herself, nearly tearing the hem of her shirt as she pulled at it frantically.

Get control of yourself. Get it on lock. Lavender is the one who has been wronged, not you.

When Rhona finally looked up, it was out the window. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling. She only looked at Lavender at the one accusation that was wrong. The tears in her eyes vanished and the trembling stopped. Emotion that she could not name welled in her chest and stole her voice… was it conviction? That was the word for it. Stern, unbreakable, unwavering conviction.

“No, Lavender, I would never, never manipulate someone like that. Never. I wanted to go out with you because you’re… god Lavender, you are so many things. You are talented, you are smart. You are kind, and soft, and sweet. I did a great many things to wrong you without intending to but the one thing that I did not do -- that I would never do is use something as powerful as affection to manipulate you or anyone. So if you believe nothing else that I say, believe that.”

She sat back, the feeling washing over her and leaving her in it’s wake, prime for the hurt to come back and drag her under. She let it.

“I did notice that you upgraded, Chione. And I was so proud of you. I only ever want you to be happy… sometimes I get lost in the bigger picture and I forget the details… I just wanted to get us home… I forgot to take care of everyone while we were there…” It wasn’t an excuse… nothing would excuse what happened. But it explained something, Rhona hoped.

“If you want to leave, I understand.” Rhona would have left if she’d put herself through what she put Lavender.

Somewhere in the wet and smothering feeling of hurt, Rhona could feel her temper flaring to life. It screwed her face up tight, her brows kitting into a line across her eyes, her brow heavy over her expression. But for all of Lavender's ice, Rhona refused to hit back with anything. Her expression remained hurt in an extreme sense. There was, however, the ripping sound of fabric as Rhona's hands jerked and tore a two-inch slit up her shirt. She let the hem go and focused intensely on flattening her own hands down onto the table, a deathly calm settling over her fingers. What Lavender had said was wrong, it had to be. She worked hard to make sure that those under her wing were taken care of. The fiasco with Altea... it was not exemplary by any means but... it wasn't indicative of how she approached things generally.

Again she had to take great care in choosing her words. The implication was everything right now. The great puzzle of navigating this minefield, the bombs that he had left behind. She had to take great care not to step on any more than she had, somehow managing thus far to bungle everything. but why had she bungled everything? She had taken responsibility for everything that she had done. She had acknowledged that she had done wrong. Right? She looked back over what she had said, recalling it with as much clarity as she could.

She hadn't.

She'd explained what happened. Explained what Lavender already knew like she was an idiot. Lavender wasn't a minefield or a puzzle. She was a person. A person that Rhona cared deeply for and she deserved genuine emotion and confession from Rhona. Not this calculated approach that she was taking. People were messy. God knew Rhona was a ******** mess herself. She'd put on this pretense that she wasn't even aware of and accidentally held everyone at arm's length to put on the show of being put together. Xi-Wang and Jason... they had glimpsed what a mess she was. But they didn't know. She hadn't shown them. Opting instead for the role of the mother hen when she couldn't even take care of herself.

In the end, she chose to say nothing, deflating against the back of the chair because Lavender was right about some parts. Not necessarily that she was looking for glory but...

"You're right... I've got... something to prove. It doesn't matter what or why right now but... it's true."

It wasn't for a few moments that one word rang out in her mind clear as day, making her breath catch in her throat.

Love.

Rhona looked away again, her face screwing up tighter as she realized the depth of how badly she'd ******** this whole thing up. She knew it was bad. She didn't know how bad.

"I'm sorry, Lavender," her voice broke when she spoke finally, and so did the dam holding her hurt behind her eyes. "For everything I did and that I failed to do."

How. How had she messed that up? Rhona's lips hung open in shock as she went over what she had said over and over. She had acknowledged that she had been wrong. That Lavender had every right to be angry with her. She had tried to apologize even though it felt cheap and superficial to apologize for something as hurtful as what she had done. But it had gone wrong... how? As Lavender paused by her side, Rhona only half heard her. She was leaving a door open, but all Rhona wanted to do was scream and slam it shut.

"How," she asked, her voice shaking, "How exactly do you think that these apologies are empty?" She didn't look up at Lavender as she spoke, finding the wood grain of the table was easier for her to focus on. "Point to where I have been anything short of genuine in this whole conversation. I accepted responsibility because I was wrong, not because I thought it was what you wanted. I apologized because I am deeply and irrevocably sorry. Not because I think it's what you wanted to hear."

But she didn't stop Lavender. Why would she? To what end? To beg forgiveness and chances that Lavender would not give her? It would only prolong their suffering. Better to just let Lavender go on hating her even though she tried her best to make it right. Tried her best to take responsibility and fix it. Tried to best for Lavender. In the end, it wasn't enough and that was fine. It had to be.

"So if I asked you how to fix this... fix us... you'd tell me," she finally asked, not certain when her mind had even formulated the words that she spoke.

Rhona stood up so suddenly that the chair that the nearly fell backwards. She surprised herself, actually. What was her plan? Did she have one? Did she ever? She whirled on her heels, pain gone from her eyes, and spoke. Or rather, her instincts did it for her. Her mind whirled as words poured form her lips again, ignoring her mind screaming to be silent and think. Now was not the time to think. Now was the time to react. She took the hand that was in her hair and curled her fingers through Lavender's. She closed the distance so that her voice was so quiet that only Lavender could hear it.

"I'm apologizing for neglecting you when you needed me. I'm apologizing for putting my own needs before yours. I'm apologizing for keeping you in the dark when you need -- no you deserve more. I'm apologizing for being selfish, for being caught up in what it meant to be Dark Mirror and forgetting what it meant to be a person. For preaching family when I don't act like part of one." Where was she going with this? What was her own end game? She was listening. Really listening. The door that she wanted to slam shut just moments ago had it's hinges blown off and Rhona was running straight through it and she realized that her end game... was Lavender.

"I'm apologizing because despite all that... I am going to fight tooth and nail to keep you when I know damn well that you deserve better. I am going to scrape and scream and struggle until I am better. Until I deserve you. I'm apologizing because... if I'm going to be better... I need your help. Please. Give me a chance to prove that I can be the better thing that you deserve."

When the words ran dry again Rhona's mind screamed for control but her instincts would not relinquish it. She kept hold of Lavender's hand, firm enough to show that she meant what she said, but lose enough for Lavender to pull away if she wanted. She didn't take a step back. She didn't look away from Lavender.

And she braced for the slap across the face that she knew she deserved.

Lavender left Rhona standing in the open doorway that she had left, Rhona’s mind spinning from what had just happened. Part of her was angry. If this was a two man job, then why wouldn’t Lavender stick around to teach her how to be… good enough? How was she supposed to do this on her own? That was easily stamped out of existence by the understanding that just as Rhona needed to work on herself, Lavender had work to do of her own if they were to have a future together. As much as Rhona wanted a partner, she also understood that such a partner would have to be equal parts lover and handler. Someone strong enough to slap her back into line because impulsiveness was in her bones and in her blood.

And maybe… Rhona realized with a painful stinging in her chest… Lavender wasn’t going to be that person. It was entirely possible that Lavender didn’t want someone that she would have to keep in line. Because even if Rhona perfected herself… something told her that there would always be that insatiable call to battle that she would never be able to drown out. Ignore, sure… but when it became too much… she would have to heed it.

She sat for a long while, declining waiters who came over to take her order, and thought. Did she want Lavender to become that person? Knowing that she would never be able to stomp out that part of herself that longed for war, would they have a future together as lovers? Or would Lavender need someone who felt more at home outside of the din of war? Did it matter? Even if they ended up with other people… Rhona’s mind had been irrevocably altered. Her perspective had shifted. Something had been moved and she couldn’t find the piece in question to put it back… so she felt fundamentally… off.

She left the cafe nearly three hours later and powered up, the familiar scent of magic soothing her confused mind as she did what she knew best.