Widget was awake, eyeing the screens with security feed, waiting.
It was the third time that week she had been out late on "personal business" and come back smelling like booze. It was the third time that week Twitch had been so focused on staying at his work bench perfecting a new nitrogen detonator because didn't want to talk to Widget about it.
It was the third time Goldilocks had open the fridge and sighed because there weren't any cookies that took twice as long to bake because Mayhem had spent an hour shaping them into letters. Not that Mayhem needed to bake, it's not like he thought women belonged in the kitchen -especially women who had thousands in foreign bank accounts- it just acted as another sign of her binging. Which he had about had enough of.
Everyone had issues, buck up and hold yourself together. Besides, Mayhem had been doing better in the past few months. She acclimated, started training with Razor and going to the library with Twitch. Hell, even started try to learn how to code with him on some weekends.
At the moment she could program a ball to bounce between platforms on a program made for ten year olds but Widget had faith. Sort of. None of them exactly needed her, at least, not how they needed each other after all this time but she fit in snugly to the dynamics. Even if she but heads with Sharp, a lot.
Maybe that's why he confronted her in the hall way, heels flung in one hand over her shoulder, movements sloppy as she leaned against the wall to balance herself.
"You know, it really sucks that you go all A-wall on us just to get trashed. Whether or not it's to get felt up by strangers on a dance floor or to drown your sorrows, or get in a fight like you decided to on the fourth of july, when you broke your hand. His arms were crossed as he stared her down, leaning in the door way of her room. He had known she was coming much earlier due to video surveillance and it was easy to beat her there, considering her slow pace.
"It's kinda old, May, and dumb. And I'm saying that." He took a step towards her, watching her blink up at him, face pulling into a frown as her eyes narrowed.
"Go to bed Widge. I don't have anything you want, or would like to hear." She waved her hand not holding the shoes, body immediately hitting the wall without the support of her arm, but she leaned there, staying upright.
"It's three a.m. and you left at five p.m. yesterday." He was getting annoyed.
"And you shut off your GPS tracker, again." He added as she managed to push past him small hands knocking him back as she tried to open her bedroom door. She paused when she realized it was locked and looked over at her shoulder glaring at him.
"Widge I wanna go to bed. Just call me a bad person tomorrow and let me sleep." She leaned her against the door, eyes blinking at him from behind messy blond bangs. It would have been endearing if he wasn't so sick of the routine.
"You'd like that wouldn't you? Why are you so obsessed with being seen as a tragic bad guy? Sure you have a past, but so do the rest of us. You're not specially singled out to be miserable, you just force yourself to be." Widget's hands were raised and flailing like they always did when he was agitated. When she turned away instead of answering he moved so he was again in her face.
"You have a nice home, a semi ethical job to give you self esteem, you have Twitch -who you are making miserable by the way, and the rest of us not to mention the pining wealthy suitors all over Europe apparently and enough money to buy a small island if you really worked at making it all accessible. God! I just, I don't get it Mayhem, I really don't!" He was getting more worked up then he intended, voice raising dangerously to be in such a public quarter as the hallway.
"You guys have each other Widge, you have your brother, you have a family. "Suitors?" -I have a bunch of rich sleaze balls I whored myself out to over the years for money, because that's the safest way to be! Why do you think Twitch is miserable? Because he let himself think I was something other than I am and I have been this since -"
"Since your parents died, yeah I know May, but if you really loved them you wouldn't use their deaths as permission to screw yourself over. Be sad and then move on!" Widget was jabbing his finger at her chest, nostrils flaring.
"But it was my fault! Mine! They got shot because of me, because I hooked up with the wrong creep and he took it out on them instead of me!" She hit his hand away before curling her fingers into fists and hitting him on the chest, starting to cry. Well that was unexpected. He blinked in surprise, unsure of what to do. Usually she would try to punch him or flip him off when they argued.
Not that it was incredibly frequent, she wasn't good at confronting issues and he usually managed to stay out of it. Was she faking it to manipulate him into leave her alone? He peered down at her face suspiciously before a loud sniff had him convinced, she was too self-conscious to purposely give herself a snotty nose.
It didn't hurt when her hands hit his chest but Widget still stumbled back at first before reaching up to hold her hands and let her fall onto his chest as she cried, awkwardly holding her there.
"This was when you were what, seventeen? Sixteen? Jesus May you didn't know that would happen." Widget let out a sigh patting her on the back as he leaned against the wall so he didn't need to support her weight.
"But I should have known to wear a stupid condom..." She muttered against his chest, hiccupping through the tears.
"What?" Widget froze, expression puzzled. He put his hands on her shoulders to push her away enough to see her face but she just shook her head.
"Let me go to bed Widget. I'll make you food tomorrow. Or clean your desk or something." She rubbed at her eyes as if trying to avoid the teary-raccoon look and failing miserably. He decided to let her comment slip for now, knowing her spiraling habits he'd meet her drunk and easier to chat within a week.
"No way. Last time you cleaned I couldn't find anything for a week. Here." He unlocked her door with a new key and handed to her, hand on her back as she walked inside. She flopped face forward on the bed as he looked in after her.
"And May?" He paused in his exit looking over his shoulder. She hummed in response, not raising her head.
"Take a fucking shower, you reek." He answered before closing the door right before he heard the thud of a pillow hitting against the wood.
