I couldn’t sleep.

Trouble getting to sleep was a common issue for a bunch of reasons. Sharing a bed with someone who snores or steals the sheets. An uncomfortable bed, whether too hard, too soft, or some other issue with the mattress. Too much noise—the couple upstairs desperately trying to have a baby, for example. Just being too wide awake to even consider nodding off.

Elena didn’t snore or steal the sheets. Klaus’ full-sized bed wasn’t uncomfortable. New York wasn’t quiet, but it wasn’t distracting. And I was dog tired from back to back shifts for my jobs at the McDonald’s around the corner and the bodega on 14th and 65th. No, the reason I couldn’t sleep despite desperately wanting to was simple: Elena stank.

She had showered before our dinner of bargain bundle ramen. I could just barely make out the cheap vanilla of her shampoo and conditioner, but it would take more than a bath and little bit of soap and product to fight off the overwhelming stench that came from working in the sewers all day. Not for the first time, I strongly considered asking her to tell the Blinds to take a hike, but I had held my tongue in check. We needed the money if we wanted to stop mooching off of Klaus, and the sooner the better. We’d already been here a few months too many. Still…

I suppressed a sigh as I rolled off of my back and away from her, trying to bury my nose in the pillow without suffocating myself. It didn’t help.

“I’m sorry.” Elena spoke so softly I almost doubted she’d spoken at all.

I strained my ears, waiting for her to continue. When she didn’t, I replied equally as quiet, “… for what?”

Even amidst the ambient noise of a New York night, I could hear her hesitation. The weighing of words and consideration of consequences. When she finally spoke there was more fervor in her words than before but not quite enough that I worried Klaus would hear from where he slept on the couch. I knew from experience that he, unlike Elena, snored.

“Everything. I gambled with your home and comforts, your life, in the name of a single night of passion. Worse, instead of taking you to a hole-in-the-wall hotel where money could buy us some protection through anonymity, I chose to bring you to my home—a place the Empire knew about, paid for even. I was careless. I was thoughtless. If I alone had suffered, then at least it would have been my just deserts, but I dragged you down with me. I am sorry.”

“I lost less than you think. I missed it here. Way better than the Bay. I probably would’ve tried to bail out sooner to try and find my way back, if I hadn’t met you.”

“Perhaps, but we could have come here on our terms instead of being driven out after an attempt on your life. I should—”

“Elena.”

One word, but she immediately stopped rambling, seemingly surprised at how sharply I spoke her name. Honestly? Me too. It took me several long moments to even begin to put words to the hot feeling that had begun to well up out of me.

“All this? This pity party? It’s not you, and I don’t like it. You take charge. You solve problems, even if it means ki—” I breathed out sharply. “This isn’t you. Shit happened, and it sucks. So do what you do best, okay? Solve it. … for me?”

A beat of silence passed, then a huff of air escaped her. “Yes. Of course. Anything for you.”

There. That tone. That was my Elena.

A few minutes passed, the two of us settling back down to try and sleep. To try, anyway. “Anything?”

She rolled over and wrapped a firm arm around me. “Anything.”

“Find work that doesn’t involve you being in the sewer all day. I know your powers don’t make it quite as easy to be a rogue as Klaus’, but I know you can figure something out.”

Another huff of air, this one tickling my ear with its warmth. “I will do my best.”

“Your best’s enough.”

“… Alexia?” I hummed questioningly in reply, comfortable in her warmth, if not her odor. “When did Klaus tell you he’s a parahuman?”

“Uh… Hm. It’s hard to say. He didn’t hide it or anything, so…?”

“Interesting. He hid it so carefully before. In fact, Father and Maximilian still don’t know, so far as I am aware.”

“He had to hide it around them, didn’t he? If he didn’t want to be roped into… you know.”

She buried her face in the hair around the nape of my neck. “In spite of the circumstances… I’m glad you got to meet him.”

“Me too. He’s good people.”

“Yes. Yes, he is.”