Chapter Text
There had been an odd feeling that had wound through the atmosphere as Agatha had found herself next to Rio in that bed, Agatha half laid back and Rio tentatively picking at the variety of fruit and nuts on the board Agatha had worked to prepare for them.
It had felt like peace, almost, at first. As the night wore on, though, Agatha started to face the slightly terrifying and slightly aggravating reality of what it actually was.
This was domesticity.
The mere thought made her feel like she might actually be sick. Upon further inspection... Well, it wasn't exactly false. This was turning into a pattern. Agatha would show up for Rio, Rio would be late and Agatha would forgive her because she understood why. Agatha had known that what Rio did for a living, the cause she dedicated herself so wholly to, would put space between them temporarily. She had a duty to her profession and Agatha could respect that, far more than she was actually able to voice appropriately, which said a lot.
They had picked at that board and Rio had loosely detailed why she had ended up being so late, which had included an instance of trauma that Rio had felt ill over.
It really struck Agatha in that moment that while she had a vast understanding of what Rio did, Agatha was seeing for herself what that kind of thing did to someone. Rio could still carry that air of confidence, she could wear that smile and say that everything would be okay, but of all the people in the world, she knew how empty that promise could be if made at the wrong time.
For the first time, she was seeing what that push and pull was doing to Rio. Even more than that, she could see the way it was affecting her even more now that she had something she wanted to devote her time to outside of her job.
Agatha had just listened, just let Rio vaguely vent about some of the darker corners of her job that people rarely took into consideration.
It was having to walk away from sobbing family members. It was holding the hand of someone until the spark of life disappeared from their muscles. It was being the one positive thing people in distress might be able to hold onto.
That, Agatha had reminded her, was an aspect of it that she was not only familiar with, but thankful for too.
It was at that point that Rio had kissed her. It wasn't even just a kiss, really. It was a brushing of their lips, yes, but there was more there. There was a gentle sense of gratitude, something that clearly communicated that Rio had needed Agatha being there more than she would have willingly let onto.
That was a startling feeling, but Agatha realized that she didn't tense up when she let herself feel it. She understood it, and she knew that she was the one putting in the effort. Seeing it and feeling as it was recognized had been an unintended side effect, but Agatha was dealing with the symptoms as they came.
Agatha had offered to put what had gone uneaten away and Rio had agreed that it would be a good idea. The kiss Rio had given her as she had climbed out of the bed had communicated to Agatha not only the appreciation, but also held a promise in it as well, one that flickered with heat at the way Rio had nibbled on Agatha's bottom lip.
It had taken Agatha roughly fifteen minutes to get everything wrapped up and put away. She'd grabbed them each a bottle of water and, with a small sense of desire beginning to pull at the threads of her being, she took the stairs back up to an awaiting Rio.
Well, what should have been an awaiting Rio.
What Agatha found as she stepped into that doorway was a Rio who was still half-upright, but her head was tilted all the way back with the top of it pressed to the fabric of the headboard. Her mouth was wide open because of the angle and she was dead asleep.
For just a moment, Agatha felt her form slacken as she leaned against the doorway to Rio's bedroom and just... took it all in.
She took in the desk in the corner with its mess of papers and the several pencils that laid atop it. She took in the modest television that was hung on the wall and considered how it was likely there more for show than anything else. She took in the dresser with the couple of photo frames atop it, ones that held memories of Rio and her friends.
She took in the decorative mug Rio had ended up with on her nightstand and had to laugh to herself at the absurdity of it. Rio was a grown woman who had all of these insane and incredible details to who she was as a person and yet, she drank almost anything she had out of a mug. Agatha had not missed the lack of other cups, too, but she hadn't felt it pertinent enough for a call out.
Then, she took in Rio.
She looked so spent, so exhausted in a way that only she could feel.
Agatha appreciated the commitment that Rio had made and kept to her career. Anyone else might have felt slighted at the way Rio could commit her time to little else, but because of what Agatha had experienced in her own life, she was able to just... get it. She was able to offer some twisted form of empathy when it came to knowing why Rio did the things she did.
Though she was done making such an unwitnessed display of it, Agatha still carried the reverence she had developed in those moments with her as she made the active choice to step forward into the bedroom. Then, Agatha made the very active choice to take off her pants and finagle the removal of her bra without taking her shirt off.
Lastly, Agatha made the incredibly conscious and only slightly tipsy choice to kneel onto the bed, carefully and gently stirring Rio enough to convince her to lay down a little more. She continued with that choice as she laid down next to Rio after reaching over her to turn the light off.
She did not make any move to cuddle, did not initiate any contact outside of the way the side of her arm pressed to the side of Rio's as they laid there on their backs. Rio's breathing was slow and even to a point where Agatha knew she had slipped right back into slumber, and even as Agatha's eyes had bored a hole into the ceiling, they eventually grew heavy, too.
When Agatha had woken up some time in the middle of the early morning, the room still dark, she could feel every single spot where Rio had rolled to her side and placed her head on Agatha's chest. She could feel so acutely the half-formed embrace of Rio's arm over her stomach.
Strangely enough, it took her all of three minutes to go back to sleep, still situated just like that.
The next morning, they had followed that same routine of Rio showering and getting ready for work. This time, though, Rio had pulled Agatha in with her when she went to make her morning flower selection and left the choice up to Agatha.
Something sentimental in the back of Agatha's mind had known what she was going to choose even as she took the time to look over the variety of other flowers contained in that room. They each had their own little biomes, their little domains where they could each reach their full potential.
The soft How did I know? was unmissable from behind her as Agatha stopped in front of the snapdragons, her fingers brushing over the petals of one as her lips curled in a smile she was almost thankful Rio could not see.
After bundling up, it did not take them stepping outside for Rio to take hold of the lapels of Agatha's coat to kiss her. It wasn't just a kiss of parting. It wasn't just a kiss of saying 'see you later.'
The way Rio kissed Agatha told Agatha everything that Rio wanted to say about the fact that Agatha had spent the night without the promise of physical release. It said, in volumes, that she was thankful for that very specific choice.
And Agatha had let her. She let Rio kiss her like that because it was the first time in Agatha's life that she had let anyone kiss her like that. It felt so very fitting in the moment that Rio was the one doing it.
The departed to their cars and no sooner had Agatha's own departed the curb than her phone was buzzing in her chest pocket. She reached in and fished it out, opening to see the message that had been awaiting her:
"Even when it's grey outside, waking up next to you somehow feels like seeing the light of day."
Agatha's throat tightened just for a moment, but then she let the knowing settle into her. Rio could have said that to her face and she probably would have seen the terror that came along with the way Agatha's throat had bobbed.
But Rio knew that. She knew that a verbal admission of such magnitude would have startled Agatha. So, she said it when Agatha was quiet, when she was alone, when she didn't have to put up a front. It had taken Agatha a couple of minutes to deal with her own personal turmoil at the feeling of being appreciated like that before she was able to type a response.
"Who's the poet now?"
The twisting of her lips that happened in the back of the car was somehow both a smirk and a smile, one that was both warm and mischievous. Rio's response came quick.
"I'm still not sure you are one...(:"
Agatha rolled her eyes and stowed her phone for the rest of the ride back to her townhome, feeling as though Rio may never actually stop trying to get under her skin, even when she was already there.
They had managed to keep a somewhat consistent conversation throughout the week, but Agatha had not found it important to mention that as she walked out of her office on Wednesday evening, she did not have to return for the next couple of weeks due to the holiday break. She knew she probably should have, that it would have given Rio some peace to know there was more of Agatha's time available to her if she wanted it. But, Agatha was letting Rio exist in the weight of her own world before adding onto it.
Saturday morning, she had woken up to a text from Rio that was a little more than she'd ever really said in a text message before.
"Hey, I don't know how often you keep an eye on the weather, but I came in early today because it's supposed to get nasty out the later it gets. If you can order/go get groceries as early as you can, it would probably be a good idea in case you get stuck. Just some friendly advice. And if it does get as bad as they're predicting, please, Agatha, stay safe and stay warm."
In a move that felt so out of place, Agatha buried her face a little more in the pillow before she brought herself to read the message again. And again. And a third additional time for good measure.
Rio was so sweet. She really did care and it showed in the smaller actions and choices like that one. Rio knew that the plans they'd loosely established were probably out the window if they were going to get the accumulation that would be predicted. She knew that and still thought to make it a point to insist that Agatha take care of herself.
"I went last night, so I'm pretty stocked. Please be careful when you leave. Let me know when you get home safely."
What Agatha did not disclose was that she had also purchased a bottle of bourbon that was a little pricey for the next time she did get to go back to Rio's.
That was a thought.
For the duration that they had been immersing themselves in this emotional tennis match, Rio had never come to Agatha's home. That had been intentional on Agatha's part; what little pieces of the real her that were still left solely existed within those walls. It was something that was going to take time, something Agatha had to really dismantle herself on before she let that happen.
Or so she'd thought.
The conversation the two of them had been able to keep up was almost non-existent. The longer the day wore on, the more Agatha watched outside of her window as the snow started to pile and the less she checked her phone to see if Rio had sent her a message.
As it grew dark, Agatha had decided on a hot shower. Once out, she stared down at her phone on the sink, void of any incoming declaration that Rio was safely at home. Slender fingers slid the phone into her palm and she unlocked the camera. This time, though, her face was in it with her wet hair and tired eyes, and the frame dropped to mid sternum.
She managed a smile and snapped the picture, bringing the phone down to type a message.
"Just thinking about you out in the cold. Wish I could be waiting to warm you up."
Before she could spend any second of time dwelling on the emotional responsibility she was taking on by sending it, she pressed the little paper plane in the corner and put her phone back down as she tended to dressing herself.
Normally, a robe was common dress for Agatha when she was home alone and the sun had gone down, but with it being as cold as it was outside, it had begun to seep into the house in various spots. As a result, she had pulled on a pair of leggings and shoved her arms and head through the holes of a thick fleece hoodie that she never would have stepped outside wearing.
To busy herself, she cleaned up the desk that was in the front room, placing the various books that had been opened or left out in their spaces on the shelf. The last one she slid in was her personal notebook, though it was bound in a similar fashion as the other compositions she owned. The remaining book on the corner of the desk as she turned back was the same one that Rio had bought her those couple of weeks ago.
Just seeing it, Agatha couldn't help but smile. She'd gotten a little ways through it and upon seeing it, she realized she was going to leave it out as cannon fodder for the next couple of days where she was surely going to be trapped to the confines of her home. Heading back toward the desk to move it over, she was stopped mid-way by the sound of her phone ringing.
It took her the blink of an eye to launch across that room and pull it into her hand. At the same time she saw Rio was calling, she noted that it was also nine at night.
"Hey, everything okay?" Agatha pressed the moment she lifted the phone to her ear. She could hear a great deal of noise in the background on Rio's end, but Agatha couldn't place where she might be.
"No," Rio answered and the one word was so stressed and so panicked that Agatha could feel every place in her chest that tightened at the sound. "I have no idea how I'm going to get home and I cannot stay at the hospital. I just... I'm..."
"Hey, hey," Agatha tried to soothe as she paced over to the window, watching the shimmering white in the light of the streetlamps. "Are you walking now?"
"I'm trying!" Rio insisted back shrilly, but Agatha could tell it was out of nothing more than sheer stress.
"Rio, listen to me. I know that Avon Hill is still a ways to go, but if you can find someone that can get you here, you can just stay with me. It's easier than trying to get all the way to East Watertown in all of this shit," Agatha offered softly, trying to keep her tone controlled and even because she sensed that it was something Rio desperately needed in her state of duress.
"Agatha, I'll be fine," Rio tried to dismiss and Agatha immediately understood that she was only doing it because she was already upset about the state of the weather outside and how it was impacting her ability to simply get home and rest after what was surely an insane day at work.
"Rio, this isn't a debate. Bribe a plow driver if you have to, but please turn up at the address I'm about to send you. I have plenty of food, a plethora of blankets, and maybe I have a bottle of bourbon here that has your name on it."
For once, Rio did not have an immediate response. She was quiet on the other end of that line, so Agatha filled the silence.
"I just sent it to you. Just... try to get here, okay? We can worry about the rest of it later."
A soft sigh sounded and Agatha could hear the resignation as it bubbled out of Rio.
"Okay. I'll see you... as soon as I can, I guess."
"Okay, Rio. Please be careful."
"I will. Bye, Agatha."
With that, the line was dead and her own phone signified that the call had ended. She could have spent however long it might take Rio to get there trying to psychoanalyze every reason Rio had tried to be resistant to the idea that Agatha was offering her somewhere safe to go, but instead she busied herself by lighting a fire in the stone fireplace that was centered on the wall in the living room.
It wasn't something she did often; chimney upkeep was an absolute bitch, but she would also just burrow under layers of blankets in bed if it was going to be her alone riding out the storm.
For the first time since living in Reykjavik, Agatha was willingly putting herself in a position where she would be spending an indefinite amount of time with someone. While that should have had certain connotations that should have excited her, she couldn't find the ability to locate glee just yet. No, she was too concerned with Rio's safety in the forty minutes it took her to get there.
Agatha had been watching intently as the world outside moved by that window. The snow got slowly higher and the frequency with which people and cars were slowly passing by seemed to decline. She hardly moved from that spot, at least not until she saw a plow start to pass by, but then it slowed. After another second, it came to a stop. The driver looked toward the right to his passenger's side and gave a nod of his head.
Another beat and there she was, shuffling around the front of the plow in her big coat with its fur lined hood and teal scrub legs.
She did that.
Agatha hadn't exactly been serious in the suggestion, but...
Rio had fucking done that.
In a rush, Agatha made a push for her front door, trying to fight the urge to completely yank it open and drag Rio in from the cold. The haste was still there was she opened it, but she tried as hard as she could to make herself look a little less desperate for the relief she'd found in being able to see with her own eyes that Rio had made it and was safe.
Carefully, Rio climbed the snow-covered stairs and Agatha stepped back a little more so that she could provide the space for her to come inside.
As she crossed into the home and Agatha shut the door, Agatha had not been expecting the rush of unidentifiable emotion that smacked into her the moment she turned to look at Rio.
Rio, with her pink nose and cheeks from the bite of the cold. Rio, with melting snowflakes in the part of her hair that escaped the confines of her hat. Rio, with eyes so dark and sunk that Agatha could almost envision with crystal clarity some of the atrocities she may have seen that day. Rio, who in spite of all of that, still found a way to smile the moment their eyes met, toothy and full.
"Hi," Rio voiced softly as she tore their gazes apart to tend to unfastening her coat. "I... Really really appreciate this. I have no idea how the hell I would have gotten home."
She really did sound impossibly grateful.
"It's not a problem, seriously. And selfishly, I didn't want to sit here for the three hours it would have likely taken you, worrying about the insanity this city becomes when things like this happen. I know that you are perfectly capable of handling yourself, so don't mistake the concern for anything other than fretting over the insanity of other people."
As Rio began to shuck her layers, Agatha was quick and taking them to place them in the closet by the front door, keeping everything bunched together and finishing by tucking the beanie Rio had been wearing into the pocket of the coat.
When Agatha found them eye to eye again, she could really see it, the way time had treated Rio since they had last been around each other.
"Are..." Agatha paused, her lips pressing and twisting against each other for a moment. "Are you okay?"
Rio's face smoothed and a smile found her lips again, even if it was far more tame than the one she'd had to offer when she had first appeared.
"I am now."
That was enough of an answer for Agatha, but there was something else on Rio's face. Agatha eyed her, quirking a brow in silent question.
"But... I might be a little better if you just... could hold me for a minute?"
For the quickest second, every single barb, every single razor, every single guard and wall that Agatha had always gripped onto for dear life just... disappeared. In the absence of her defenses, Agatha could feel herself melt so severely that she was not sure she could keep it from showing in her expression. So to prevent maximum exposure, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Rio's form in a strong and warm embrace.
For the longest moment, Rio just stayed like that. She didn't bring her own arms up, didn't try to hug Agatha back. But, that wasn't what she asked for. She hadn't asked for a mutual embrace, hadn't even used the word 'hug.' No, Rio had explicitly asked Agatha to hold her. And that was exactly what Agatha did.
One of Agatha's arms was secured around Rio's waist, but after a moment when she felt Rio's head tip forward to land on her shoulder, the opposite hand lifted and raised to gingerly cradle Rio's head, fingertips raking ever so softly through her hair.
They stood there, in the front of Agatha's home like that, for several moments. She wasn't sure what pushed her to do it, but Agatha finally broke the silence.
"Bad day?" she questioned softly, fingers still working gently in Rio's hair.
"Understatement," Rio murmured, her breath warm on Agatha's neck from the way her head was laying on that shoulder.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Agatha offered in a genuine show of making sure Rio would know that she could, and Agatha was there to listen if she needed it.
"I don't. At least, not right now. Do you think I could have a glass of that bourbon, though?"
Agatha's lips curled into a tender smile and she released her hold on Rio to pull back and just... observe her for a few seconds. She was still so beautiful, but it was obvious that the weight of her world was starting to feel a little more than crushing.
"Are you hungry, too? I can make you a grilled cheese or something. I think I have some tomato soup, too if y--" Agatha had glanced over her shoulder toward the pantry and was still speaking as she turned her head back around, but she had not noticed that Rio had closed the space between them again. Not until Rio's hands found either side of Agatha's face and pulled her in to kiss her.
She was stunned for the briefest moment. It wasn't exactly commonplace for them to show that affection so quickly upon being in one another's presence. Those kisses were the ones that reserved for the times they parted ways.
Right then, Rio was making it clear that those rules were out the goddamn window.
As she seemed to calm and bring the lip lock to a close, Agatha's eyes fluttered back open in utter wonder to take the woman in front of her in. In a very Agatha fashion, one corner of her lips pulled up in something that tried very hard to be a smirk but it missed the mark and landed in a curious smile.
"What was that for?" Agatha asked her, and while it wasn't accusatory or interrogatory, there was this desire for knowledge that leaked into her tone.
Rio seemed to consider for a moment, her eyes searching Agatha's face in a show that she was really trying to determine the best way to answer that question.
"For making choices that you wouldn't have made a month ago. And for making them because of me."
Once more, Agatha could feel herself softening even if she did a damn good job of not letting her expression betray her.
She heard loud and clear what Rio was saying.
Rio was acknowledging something Agatha had spent a great deal of time stewing on, acknowledging just how far Agatha seemed to have come in pulling down her walls. She was calling out the fact that for the first time since they had met, she was standing in Agatha's home. Not only was she standing in Agatha's home, but Agatha was buzzing with energy enough to insist that she could put together a small but hot meal for her because she imagined Rio was starving, cold, and exhausted after what had surely been a hellacious day.
Agatha took a moment to acknowledge those things too.
For the first time in an incredibly long time... They did not scare her.
So, she had given Rio a kiss on the cheek and offered to grab her a change of clothes so that she could get out of the scrubs she was in not only because it had been her battle armor for the day, but because they were now soaked almost all the way up to her knees.
Rio had thanked her when she had returned a few moments later with a pair of joggers, a couple of different t-shirts that she rarely wore, and even a hoodie with the Harvard 'H' on the front of it. That was a choice Agatha had deliberately made that she knew would indicate her humor. It was one she hoped could make Rio laugh, or at the very least give her a reason to smile.
In the pile of clothes as Agatha handed them over, though, Rio hadn't been able to notice it. Agatha kept her smile focused as she indicated where the downstairs washroom was and left Rio to sort out her ensemble for the evening.
By the time Rio returned, Agatha was dropping two pieces of bread coated on one side with a light layer of mayonnaise onto a hot skillet.
"You little shit," Rio accused, slinging it at Agatha's back though there was no mistaking the undeniable amusement in her voice.
Agatha's torso shifted so that she could look back behind her and what she saw caused her to sprout a grin that could have been miles wide. There Rio stood, and instead of the black and scarlet hoodie she'd donned in her own apartment, she'd apparently bitten the bullet and realized it was not likely Agatha would offer another sweatshirt based on nothing but principle alone.
"Hm," Agatha hummed in thought as she turned back to the stove to lay the cheese slices atop the bread. As she did so, her chin tipped over her shoulder again. "It looks good on you."
She could almost hear as Rio rolled her eyes and made her way over to the counter to Agatha's left, her hand extending to pick up the bottle of bourbon. As she looked down at it, a hand immediately flew out and lightly smacked the side of Agatha's bicep in disbelief.
"I can't believe you remembered the brand. And also, I can't believe you spent a hundred and fifty bucks on a bottle of bourbon for me." Despite the slight condemnation, Agatha could hear the clear delight as it rang out over Rio's words.
"I didn't remember what it was called," Agatha countered as she artfully slid the spatula under one of the slices of bread and flipped it atop the other. "But I remembered what it looked like. So, when I saw it, I grabbed it. Figured I could bring it the next time I came over."
Rio was quiet for a moment as she beheld the bottle, cradling it in both hands like it were a baby.
"It's just a bottle of alcohol, Rio," Agatha informed her, but even before she finished her sentence, she knew that Rio was going to argue, even in an underhanded and soft way.
"We both know it's not. So, thank you, Agatha."
And then she left it at that.
"Tumblers are in the cabinet by the fridge. There are full ice molds in the freezer. I don't ever use them, but they're there."
Agatha turned her attention to the soup that was beginning to bubble occasionally and turned it off, removing it from the heat. With one more flip of the sandwich in the pan, Agatha was satisfied by the marbling of golden brown on both sides enough that she turned off that burner, too.
"Can you grab a plate from that cabinet please?" Agatha requested, nodding her head toward the one she was referring to. Rio stepped up easily and did as she was asked, sliding it over to Agatha.
In one fluid motion, Agatha lifted the sandwich and slid it onto the plate. Once it was settled, she placed the front edge of the spatula in a line from corner to corner and pressed down, effectively cutting it in half.
This seemed to tickle Rio as she looked down at the two triangular pieces of the grilled cheese.
"Thanks, mom," she nearly chirped and it made Agatha wince... for more than one reason.
"Don't do that," Agatha clipped back, though she did manage to mask the majority of the pain that had pounded her directly in the center of her chest.
Still, nothing got by Rio. Agatha could see out of the corner of her eyes as Rio's posture softened and she set her glass on the counter, though she didn't let it go. A hand raised and landed on the upper part of Agatha's arm.
"Hey... I'm sorry. Really. I didn't mean anything by it. I was just being an ass," Rio tried to assure her. She was using that quiet voice, the one that was a little deeper and a little rougher around her words but only in the way that was caused by the tightening of her throat.
"It's okay," Agatha managed, and the dismissal was the slightest bit surprising, though she realized it was becoming something that was happening a lot more often. "But just... don't do it again, please."
"I won't, I promise."
Agatha did not address it further and instead stepped out of Rio's touch and toward where she could open a cabinet door and pull down a bowl for Rio's soup. She was quiet as she ladled some of it inside, though the visualization nearly made her choke.
It was different, but it was so much the same.
For about ten seconds, in the recesses of Agatha's mind, she was in a different kitchen in a different part of Massachusetts. The soup before her was chicken noodle, not tomato. The grilled cheese had white cheese instead of the yellow she had just used to make Rio's sandwich.
In that ninth second, Agatha heard it as if it were shouted in her ear.
"Momma, I need ketchup!"
Nicky had always loved dipping his grilled cheese in ketchup.
By the eleventh second, she was back in Avon Hill. She was back in that kitchen, where Rio was stood against the counter, half a foot away.
There was an incredibly serious threat of tears boiling within her. It was like a boulder that sat, lodged in the very middle of her throat, only this time it was sharp around every edge. Beyond her own understanding, she was gripping at the corner of the counter while she tried to catch her breath.
She couldn't hear a single sound as Rio said her name.
She still didn't hear it the second time. Or the third.
The only reason she heard it the fourth time was because of the firm grip that Rio applied to her bicep. Rio's voice was soft, but it was filled with concern.
"Agatha, hey."
With a whip of her head, startled blue eyes met dark honey ones and somehow, Agatha remembered to breathe.
"What do you need?"
With a concentrated show of willpower, Agatha found the ability to swallow down that rock, to free up more of her throat to breathe, to center herself and come back down from that cliff side she had just been staring over the edge of.
Agatha had yet to shed a single tear, but something in Rio's face said she hadn't needed to.
"I..." Agatha tried, but she was struggling to really find her voice.
Rio just looked worried.
The longer Rio looked like that, the more trapped Agatha felt.
"I'm sorry," Agatha cracked as she pushed off the counter and raced for the bathroom. It was the first place she thought to go where she could just be alone for a second.
Rio had been in her home for all of fifteen minutes and there Agatha was, toeing the line of having a nervous breakdown for the first time in fucking years. As the door slammed shut, Agatha's back pressed to it and while she did not make a single sound, the tears began to spill furiously.
Where the fuck had that come from?
Why now? Why today? Why in front of fucking Rio?!
Agatha had no intentions of doing a deep dive on trying to figure out why, so she simply dug her heels into the moment. She scoured her mind for any and every good thing that could ground her into her current reality.
Rio was there. Doctor Rio. Did she know how to heal a broken heart? One that had been broken for fifteen years?
Whether or not she did wasn't what was important. What was important was that she was there.
There was a lot of snow outside. That snow meant Rio wasn't leaving anytime soon.
Rio probably didn't want to leave anytime soon, but Agatha was going to make it awkward if she stood in that bathroom trying to stop fucking crying much longer.
After a few more slow and steadying breaths, she raised both hands to wipe at her face. Even though she knew she shouldn't have, Agatha took a couple of extra moments to splash a bit of cold water on her face in an attempt to alleviate the puffiness that had come from crying.
With one final breath that filled every single inch of her lungs, Agatha was ready to face Rio again.
She let herself out of the bathroom and when she entered the open space, she saw Rio standing at the sink as she rinsed out the bowl she had been using. As she rinsed the plate too, she seemed to notice Agatha hovering with her peripherals. Slowly, she set the plate down and turned off the water before she swiveled to face Agatha.
For as worried as Rio had obviously been, there was something very calm and smooth about the expression she was wearing. She didn't speak a single word as she stepped forward, pacing over to where Agatha stood.
Agatha wasn't sure what to expect; would Rio kiss her? Would she try to hug her? What could be a reasonable response to what had just happened and her having no clue what caused it?
Rio's feet stilled about eight inches from Agatha's and she simply reached down, picking up Agatha's hand to fasten it into her own. She turned outward and began to walk toward the living room, pulling Agatha gently behind her. As they reached the couch, Rio let go only once Agatha was directly in front of it.
"Sit down," Rio instructed softly.
Agatha just blinked at her.
She felt like she was in the middle of a hurricane and every thought she had was blowing around the inside of her head with such brute force that stepping into the line of fire would have absolutely sent her reeling. What was the plan here? What were Rio's intentions in that very moment?
Before Agatha could part her lips in question, there was a sound in the kitchen.
It was the kettle whistling.
"What kind do you want?"
An invisible hand had locked around Agatha's throat.
Rio knew something was wrong. Rio knew Agatha loved tea. Rio had put on the kettle once she realized that Agatha was upset.
Rio was going to make her tea.
For a long moment, she just stood there, probably looking like a caught animal who didn't know how to get out of the trap they were stuck in. Her jaw would tense and she would find a way to swallow the pooling of saliva in her mouth and then repeat the process with the kettle still whistling in the background, demanding attention.
"I can't pick for you, I don't know shit about tea..."
This did something. This poked a large enough hole through Agatha's stunned silence that she was able to form a response.
"Gunpowder green," she managed, though her voice was embarrassingly weak as she got it out.
"Is it labeled?" Rio asked softly and Agatha gave a silent nod in response.
"There's infusers in the drawer..." Agatha offered, though Rio was already moving to cross into the kitchen so that she could silence the kettle.
For a moment, Agatha just stood there. She had thought that she had braced herself enough that she could act like nothing was wrong. Maybe she might have been able to if Rio wasn't so impossibly intuitive. Maybe she could have found a way to act like it wasn't something that actually had completely fucked with her mentally.
Would it have mattered?
Rio had watched her run into that bathroom like a scared kid and she had immediately turned on the kettle with the intent of doing what she hoped might help Agatha. Agatha probably could have sat in that bathroom for an hour and she did not put it past Rio to have simply guessed at a random tea and left it by the door for whenever Agatha was ready for it.
Finally, Agatha sat down. She was still fighting to regain the control she'd been clinging to when she had opened the bathroom door, the same control that had shattered in her grasp the moment Rio walked over and held her hand like that. She had only been of the mind that she could keep her cool because she had convinced herself that Rio would be oblivious.
How completely stupid was that thought?
When had Rio ever been oblivious?
A moment later, Rio returned with a large mug and when Agatha's eyes fell to the infuser she had chosen, a ghost of a smile graced her lips. The little gray sloth was hanging over the edge of the mug, only claws and face visible. It was the stupidest thing, something she'd bought on a whim when at one of the tea shops, but in that moment there was something about the fact that it was the one Rio had picked that soothed Agatha.
Rio placed herself on the couch next to Agatha and held out the mug for her to take. Agatha's eyes were fixed on Rio's face, though, trying to ask questions she did not have words for. The only answer Rio provided was to push the mug forward, but there was more there.
There was that look in Rio's eyes as she looked up from the tea, staring directly into Agatha's blue ones. There was that look on Rio's face, like she understood a conversation that she had not been privy to. There was that slight uptick of Rio's lips that was almost too nervous to turn into the reassuring smile she wanted it to be.
And then, Rio tipped her head to the side and it was the loudest declaration of IT'S OKAY! that she could have managed without saying a word.
It was the simplest thing for her to drop her head just slightly.
Yet, it meant the world to Agatha.
Slowly, Agatha reached up and pulled the hot ceramic out of Rio's grasp, not paying any mind to the fact that it was almost too hot to hold. She shifted, leaning forward slightly so that she could set it down on the coffee table that was in front of them. As she leaned back, she shifted in her spot so that she could turn sideways with a leg tucked under her so that she could face Rio.
The question in Rio's eyes was obvious, but Agatha didn't waste any time in giving her an answer.
She reached up with the hand that was closest to the back of the couch and laid it gingerly against the side of Rio's neck, fingers hooking into the flesh that covered vertebrae so that she could pull her forward.
Rio didn't resist. She let it happen. And when Agatha kissed her?
The docile and sweet Rio that had just made her tea seemed to dissipate into thin air and the Rio that was willing to devour Agatha whole appeared in her place.
There might have been about two to three seconds where that kiss could have been called tender and then, it was over. Instead, their lips were crushing together so hard that Agatha was almost certain one of them might bleed. And then it was the dance, the sucking of lips and nibbling of teeth on skin. Part of Agatha wanted it to hurt, wanted Rio to put a little more force into those nips. She wanted Rio to spark those neurons, to make her feel absolutely anything than the anxiety she'd felt in that kitchen.
So she kissed Rio harder, hotter. She shoved her tongue into Rio's mouth with little regard and felt her heart hammer harder when Rio offered the pushback Agatha was aching for. She needed the battle, the power struggle in those moments.
Agatha needed for Rio to be Rio.
Agatha's hand had started to move, sliding up into Rio's hair as fingers curled around what strands she could grasp. She used it as leverage, to bring Rio closer and closer even though there was no actual space left between them and Agatha was practically taking swipes at the uvula that hung at the back of Rio's throat.
The way their teeth kept colliding was almost enough to be painful, but Agatha didn't care. Rio was there. Rio cared. Rio was going to let Agatha do whatever it was she needed to do to feel better without putting Rio's own well being on the line in the process.
Agatha didn't want to hurt Rio. If anything, it could have been said that she wanted Rio to hurt her, but there were extreme limits on that being a possibility. Agatha was aching for anything to tell her she was alive, that she wasn't buried and suffocated in her memories, and if forking over some modicum of control might help? She was willing to try.
Agatha gave a firm tug on Rio's hair at the same time she retracted her tongue from Rio's mouth, eyes opening to see Rio's exposed neck. She could have jumped right in, but that wasn't what she wanted. She released her hold and for a brief moment as she leaned back, Rio looked confused again. Agatha did not leave much room to question before she spoke.
"Strip down," she instructed and while it was obvious that she was starved for this, Agatha's voice was not bossy or authoritative by any measure.
Rio hesitated just long enough that Agatha realized she was going to have to prove that she wasn't bluffing. She pushed herself to her feet and pulled off the fleece sweatshirt she had on, flinging it somewhere behind her. As she removed her t-shirt and did the same thing, Rio finally caught up and was on her feet, shedding her own layers.
In a flurry of movement and an entire duration of less than a minute, they were both stark naked and hands were back on bodies, this time gripping and sinking into skin. Although Agatha was usually the one to immediately start ravishing Rio, it had taken Agatha's five second delay for Rio to pick up on the fact that the tables were actively turning where they stood.
Agatha had hoped that Rio would notice and engage.
But Rio always had her questions, no matter how valid they were.
Rio used her hold on both of Agatha's sides to pull her closer so that their fronts pressed, breasts flattening the slightest bit in shape with the force they imbued upon one another. But Rio didn't kiss her, despite how close they were. Instead, those dark eyes found Agatha's, looking down into them, the question already there.
"Don't ask me what I need," Agatha had tried to growl, but it came out in a tone of voice that sounded almost downright pathetic.
"Okay," Rio offered back, but she wasn't finished. "What do you want?"
This was a valid question. It was also a question that Agatha was not entirely sure how to answer at first. The words weren't forming the way she had hoped they might, weren't stringing together in the way she needed them to. Instead, she tried to find a way to do it without them.
Her hands dropped from where they had absentmindedly landed on Rio's shoulders and slid down the length of her arms all the way to her hands. She covered them with her own and then pressed -- hard. She shifted her palms back to Rio's fingers and pressed again so that her nails sank into the pliable flesh there. Her eyes slid shut at the feeling. Even though it was technically self-inflicted, the thrill of it caused a whispered moan to filter through her lips.
"Agatha," Rio managed, her breath hot on Agatha's face. "I need you to tell me."
Her eyes opened into Rio's and while her immediate inclination was to be irritated, to be upset that Rio was forcing compliance, she simply couldn't. Perhaps it was because some locked away part of her realized that Rio wasn't actually forcing her hand. Rio was offering her a means to control this interaction when clearly, Agatha felt so very out of control.
"I want you to hurt me without fucking me," Agatha answered finally, though there was something about the request that almost tasted sour as it passed over her tongue.
Without another word spoken, Rio seemed to realize what was being asked of her. As much as Agatha could tell Rio disliked not being able to reciprocate in these situations, she could also tell that she understood why.
Agatha's hands removed themselves but the grip there grew stronger. At the same time, Rio's head dropped and tucked into Agatha's neck, lips meeting flesh hungrily.
Maybe it was awkward to be stood there in the middle of her living room butt naked like that as Rio began to consume whatever inch of flesh she could get to, but Agatha didn't care. The more she felt Rio pressing and squeezing roughly at her hips and sides and ass, the closer she tried to pull herself to the other woman.
Agatha's chest had started to heave a bit as Rio sucked at her neck, at different places up and down the length of it for long enough each time that Agatha knew exactly what she was doing. Not only was she complying with Agatha's request, but she was getting her own payback. Joke was on Rio, though; Agatha didn't have class for the next two weeks.
It was when Rio sank her teeth into the muscle of Agatha's shoulder that Agatha realized just how much Rio understood the assignment. A low moan rattled from deep within Agatha's lungs and while her hands had been idling on Rio's sides previously, one of them raised to cradle the back of her head again, a silent encouragement to keep going.
Instead, Rio lifted her head. The question and panic was immediate in Agatha's eyes, but it hardly had time to register before Rio's grip tightened even further and she shifted her weight, using the momentum to practically throw Agatha onto the couch, leaving her sat upright against the back of it.
Woah.
That was hot.
Rio eyed her like a hawk at the top of a tree, staring down at the prey it was about to make a lunge for.
Agatha's chest was still moving in rapid succession of inhales and exhales and the look in her eye bordered on wild, but it was only because she was anticipating what Rio was going to do next. She had been following the plan pretty well, but that moment of silence was a slight hiccup.
Then, Rio dropped to her knees in front of Agatha.
Rio's dark eyes lifted and met Agatha evenly from where she sat on her heels. She did not look away as she raised a hand and pressed the back of it to the inside of Agatha's knee. She did not do anything else, did not apply any pressure. Agatha listened to the silent demand anyway and separated her knees, readjusting her feet so that her legs were spread.
Rio read the tension that was there despite the compliance.
Rio scooted forward the slightest bit so that she had the position for what she wanted to accomplish. As she leaned toward Agatha and turned her head to press a kiss to the inside of her knee, she whispered softly against the skin there.
"You can trust me."
To punctuate such a statement, Rio sank her teeth into a slightly meatier spot a little higher up Agatha's thigh.
Agatha heard it, what Rio was really saying.
'You can put yourself in vulnerable situations and I will still respect what you ask of me.'
Rio wasn't going to make a push for what she might have wanted because she understood that Agatha's wants and needs were more important than her own in the circumstances they had landed themselves in.
Agatha's hand raised to slide once more into Rio's hair, but the grip was gone this time. Instead, she just needed to feel her there and to know that if there happened to be something that she did not like, she could redirect with ease.
It was at that point that she realized Rio knew what she was doing. She was leaving trails of hickeys up and down Agatha's thighs, occasionally using her tongue to soothe the bitemarks she was leaving as well. She was digging her nails into the outside of those thighs, raking them roughly through fields of soft skin.
As she moved higher, though, Agatha tensed. Rio understood it and instead seemed to change tactics.
She rocked back in a way that allowed her to get to her feet, towering over Agatha once more. Before she made her demand, though, her gaze swept over Agatha's legs to survey her handiwork. Those full lips curled into a smirk just before she spoke.
"Lay back. I've got miles to go before I sleep."
Agatha's expression went entirely blank for just a moment. The demand would have been something she could have met with ease, but it was the addendum that had really struck something in her chest, something that was dangerously close to her heart.
Rio was quoting Robert Frost at her in the middle of ravaging every inch of Agatha's body that Agatha would let her get to.
And Agatha had never been so turned on in her life.
She complied after another stunned moment, laying along the length of the couch. Rio wasted absolutely no time as she climbed over Agatha's legs so that she could lower her lips to kiss around Agatha's navel.
Rio spent the next length of time licking and sucking and biting and scratching her way across both of Agatha's hips, over her abdomen and ribs. She had taken a little longer when it came to Agatha's breasts and for a moment, Agatha wondered if Rio was aware that she'd made Agatha come twice in that time.
The first had been when she had bit her nipple almost hard enough to suck the breath out of her lungs and the second had been when she'd licked her way up the center of Agatha's sternum.
By the time Rio's entire body was over Agatha's and the trail Rio's tongue had been taking up the middle of Agatha's throat ended at the edge of her chin, Agatha felt satisfied.
Before any other thought could strike her, the entire room went dark. No lights, no fans, no humming of electricity.
The power had finally gone out. The only light source left in the room was the orange hues from the fire that was still burning in the stone hollow.
In the moment, it was almost like neither of them noticed.
Rio's face hovered above hers for only a moment before it dropped and their lips met in another kiss. This time, though, it wasn't forceful or desperate. It wasn't crushing or heavy. This time, when Rio kissed her, it felt like victory.
Agatha had found it in herself to ask for what she wanted, and Rio had given it to her without question. More than that, Rio had found a way to put her own flourish on it and every single bit of it had worked. In those moments, Agatha was not thinking about white cheese and chicken noodle soup. All Agatha was thinking about was how badly she wanted to make Rio come.
So even though that kiss had been a gentle showing of Rio's affection, Agatha needed to make it perfectly clear that she wanted more. Her tongue was working again, running along Rio's lips, tucking behind her teeth and she could feel as Rio's body began to press toward hers more in need.
When she pulled away, she reached up to cradle the entirety of Rio's jaw in her firm grasp so that she could direct Rio's head to the side in order to disclose something right into her ear.
"What I want now is for you to ride my face. That way I can save us both you asking."
Although Agatha expected Rio to leap into action, what she did instead was a bit of a surprise.
Rio laughed. She tilted her head out of Agatha's grasp so that she could look back down at her again and she was wearing one devilish smirk.
"You're learning," she stated, lifting her hand to give Agatha's cheek an instigative tap. "Good girl."
Oh fuck.
"Rio," Agatha growled, but Rio was moving before she could offer any further protest.
The way Rio moved her body sometimes was quite unreal. She was so graceful, so able in her way to flow through any space she occupied.
There was something so goddamn sexy about it, the way she set herself where she needed to be, her core positioned right above Agatha's face.
Something Agatha noticed immediately was that the insides of Rio's thighs were damp and sticky to about halfway down. As Agatha curiously raised a hand and slid it under her from behind to run a finger through Rio's wet warmth, she had not been expecting to nearly drown.
At the realization, a sinister smirk curled Agatha's lips this time. Her hands were moving, fingertips nearly digging in as they landed on Rio's hip bones and pushed her where Agatha wanted her with the leverage she'd garnered.
The moment she sank her tongue into Rio's heat, she realized that she was not going to be able to get enough. She wanted more already and she'd just started. She'd been guiding the intensity with her own grip for a few minutes but she could feel Rio growing a little more desperate, especially when her hand landed in Agatha's hair.
One of Agatha's hands loosened its hold on Rio's hip and curved inward, her finger finding its destination as it curled into Rio from behind. This caused a sudden and rough shift in Rio's hips so more of that wet and warm arousal filled every bit of Agatha's mouth.
It had taken less than two minutes of that for Rio to completely shatter in a brand of orgasm Agatha had yet to bear witness to. It was delicious, it was glorious, and it was... actually kind of beautiful, if she let herself be honest for a moment.
It was in the minutia, in the way that Rio's thighs squeezed Agatha's head slightly. It was in the way she rocked forward and threw down a hand to support herself on the arm of the couch as she rode out every wave that ripped through her. It was in the way her breath kept catching in her chest and she had to force herself to remember the automatic action.
Agatha, who had stilled as Rio came, slowly removed her finger and, at the same time, gave one last flat swipe of her tongue to garner every bit of sex she could swallow.
Rio exhaled a soft whimper and Agatha gave the cheek of her ass a soft smack to encourage her to move. She had started to shift to lay herself atop Agatha, but Agatha signified for her to wait just a second. She sat up a little and reached over the back of the couch, grabbing one of the blankets she'd gotten out earlier in the night from where it sat on the table there.
Agatha gave a silent nod as she laid back against the cushions and Rio folded on top of her. Working around the body on top of her, Agatha managed to unfurl the blanket in a way that allowed her to drape it over Rio's back, covering the both of them. Rio had tucked her head to lay on Agatha's chest and Agatha simply held her there.
She let those blue eyes close in the darkness of the room, focusing on that familiar lullaby of the sounds Rio made when she breathed.
It had taken her little time to fall asleep.
When Agatha awoke, she was immediately aware that she was alone on the couch, even before she opened her eyes. It was in the way she couldn't feel Rio's skin. It was in the way it was replaced with the fabric of that blanket instead.
Slowly, she sat up and turned her attention to the dimly lit room in front of her.
What she saw stopped her heart in her chest for so long that she was convinced this was what it felt like to die.
On the floor, relatively close to the fireplace, sat Rio who was wrapped in a blanket. That was not the part that was currently sucking every last bit of life out of Agatha.
The part that actively killing her in that moment was that in front of Rio was a book. Not just any book, Agatha's book, and a couple of loose leaves of paper pushed around it.
Agatha wanted to die. Literally, in that moment, she prayed that somehow some freak accident would happen and she would not have to keep moving forward on a path where facing this moment was inevitable.
Rio was studying a piece of paper, one that Agatha was almost certain she knew what was written on it. It was one of the few she had written in the two weeks she'd heard hide nor hair from Rio.
In a chaos of collision, the to-and-fro never dies. Only gentle hands cradle opposition, both anguish and joy palmed and tied together by fate. The black ebbs and flows, insistent cycles of departures and arrivals, true as time. The sun of dark pools, illuminating through despair to catch a bloom of pink, of purple, of white. Even through perishing can there be life.
Agatha just watched her as she read it, as the words settled within her. As she understood them, Rio's posture changed. It sagged a little in a way that told Agatha she completely comprehended every word she had read. Then, she set it down and picked up another that was on the same stationary.
The building has no arms, yet the hold is too tight. The titanium often rings too cold, the fluorescents blare too bright. Even as laughter sounds in valleys of despondency, they turn into echoes of the nothing. Frailty forever lends to heartache, suffocating when the hold of the building tightens. Newness, vivid and blinding brings change that lay untouched for years. Discomfort only brings with it new opportunities.
Somewhere in the middle of it, Agatha had heard it.
Rio had started to cry.
She shifted, reaching up to wipe at her face, though she didn't put the poem down. Instead, she appeared to read through it at least two more times depending on how fast of a reader she was.
Agatha was completely stuck on that couch, watching a woman who clearly cared for her shed tears over the thoughts Agatha sometimes had rattling around in her mind.
The one miniscule part of her that wanted to be upset by the invasion of privacy was immediately silenced by a thought of the first morning she had woken up in Rio's bed. When Rio had been in the shower, Agatha had snooped, too. Rio just hadn't caught her.
"Doing some light reading?" Agatha fired off into the cool night, but it wasn't hostile or pointed. It was quiet, it was curious.
Rio's head snapped back to take in Agatha and her eyes were nearly as wide as plates. She looked like a kid who had been caught with their had in the cookie jar. She looked guilty. That in and of itself told Agatha that she realized just how heavy what she was holding actually was.
"I... I didn't realize what it was when I pulled it... and then the first page drew me in. And these... they just fell out. I..."
Before Rio was finished, Agatha was moving. She pushed to her feet and brought her blanket with her, placing herself on the ground directly behind Rio, legs on either side of her hips. Though it was a little awkward at first, Agatha found a way to wrap her arms around Rio's middle as she set her chin on Rio's shoulder, peering down at the second poem she'd been holding.
"I know you want to ask," Agatha murmured softly in a teasing encouragement, so close to Rio's ear.
"Are these... about me?"
Agatha tipped her head forward and placed a kiss to the blanket that was covering Rio's shoulder.
"They are."
"Agatha..."
"Before you even start, I saw what you were working on that morning I woke up and you were in the chair. So... It's just a mutual admiration in different art forms."
Rio seemed to digest this, at first, but then she slipped right into understanding. They were artists at heart and they'd each found a way to express their appreciation in quiet ways that they thought only they would know of.
They sat, situated like that, for a few quiet and long moments. What Agatha had been unaware of was that there was more Rio wanted to ask. It took another couple of minutes for her to gather the courage.
Rio's head lifted and turned slightly, looking over at the bookshelf she had found Agatha's journal on. Her eyes fell on a small picture frame that held a 3x5 photo inside of it. Agatha noted the movement and followed Rio's gaze, her heart stopping for the second time.
No.
Rio couldn't.
She couldn't ask that question.
And then, she did.
"Who's the little boy?"
In a moment where Agatha should have flown to her feet and stomped up the stairs, a moment where she should have thrown up her walls and pushed Rio out into the snow -- naked or not -- she chose to do something else instead.
She chose to wrap her arms tighter around Rio's middle. She chose to press her face into Rio's shoulder in silent indication that she was going to need time to form that answer.
What she did not choose to do in that moment was run away.
It took her so long that Rio had checked more than once that she was awake, knowing better than to ask if she was okay. Finally, Agatha found her voice even though she did not move her face from the way it was pressed to the blanket.
"He was my son."
She could feel as the gravity of the question she had asked finally settled into Rio's form. When she had asked it, she had surely not anticipated that kind of answer. At the same time, it seemed to shuffle quite a few pieces into place in Rio's mind. She moved a hand to rest on Agatha's arm the moment she felt it everywhere as Agatha began to cry.
Despite her tears, though, she kept going.
"He died from Leukaemia three months after his fifth birthday, fifteen years ago. The same day, fifteen years later, I got hit by a car and saw a pretty doctor in my dream."
At this, it was Rio's turn to start trembling as her tears started back up again. It only made Agatha hold on tighter.
They stayed in the devastation of the moment, just crying softly and clinging to one another, both through Agatha's hold on Rio's middle and Rio's grip on Agatha's arm. It was the first time Agatha had ever let herself be honest with someone about Nicky, let alone the first time anyone she'd come into contact with after his passing had ever learned of his existence.
Agatha was hoping, though, that Rio did not want to keep digging in that spot for the time being. There might come a day when Agatha could talk about him, could state all of the things she had loved so much about him, but not then.
She was thankful, after a few more moments of silence, that Rio's next words were the exact opposite of digging.
"I lost someone, too. I... It's not the same, but..." She drew in a soft breath as if the find some form of courage to keep going which made Agatha feel a little bit better about her own admission. "I was in a relationship that... It wasn't great, but the sex was incredible so we stayed together. It was stupid but I didn't have the time or energy to start dating again. We just..." Rio exhaled a soft sigh, her head hanging a little bit.
"We fought. A lot. One night, it was icy out and we were trying to get back to the city after a wine tasting at a garden center. She was driving and we were yelling back and forth about the fact that she thought I was hitting on the organizer. I told her she was..." Rio shook with a soft sob right before she wiped at her face with the hand that didn't have an ironclad grip on Agatha's arm.
"I called her a 'stupid bitch,' which was very out of character for me. And she turned on me and lost control of the car. When I came to, I had sustained a minorly punctured lung, a broken arm and I broke twelve bones in my right foot. When I looked over, she was... dying."
Agatha might not have been ready to delve into the painful memories of the kind of happiness having Nicky in her life had brought her, but Rio seemed to be ready to let Agatha know that death was more of life than anyone wanted to admit, and that didn't always have to be a bad thing.
"I ignored my own pain to try to save her. No matter what I did, it wouldn't have mattered." Rio paused, her lungs filling very slowly with the breath she pulled in. "So... I guess that's my way of telling you that I know what it's like to feel like you can't save someone, even deeper than what that means in terms of my job. And it's also my way of letting you know that you're not alone."
Agatha's face moved to press into the hair on the back of Rio's head as the tears started falling hot and fast again.
"And if I have anything to say about it... And I can be convincing enough... You won't ever have to be, again."