Reunions - Joey Quintero, Nico Pontevecchio

“I’m gonna scare them,” Joey says, fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt.
“No you’re not. They’ve seen your fangs on the video calls.”
“I don’t move right anymore. I’m cold.” She looks up at him. “They’ve seen too many dead people already.”
“Yeah, and they got you back.” Nico folds a hand over hers. “You’ve been doin’ all this so you can see them face to face. So you can hold them. And you’ve been doin’ great.”
She shakes her head. “This isn’t…this isn’t like I’m some kind of addict who lost custody. I didn’t do something bad. I am something bad.”
“How many times do I hafta tell ya, Joey. You’re just a vampire. You decide what kinda one you are.” He grins lopsidedly. “Besides, if that’s what you are, what does that make me?”
“Oh. Oh. I’m sorry.” 
“No hurt feelings here. We’re people, Joey. Messy and full of all kinda contradictions. We all gotta live with it.”
“Well, you know, we’re not actually living.”
“That’s the spirit. Now get in there before we run outta visiting hours.” He pats her shoulder. 
Joey smiles at him and then steps through the door, and is instantly tackled by a petite girl with pink ends on her braids. 
“Hola, mi rayo del sol.” Joey wraps her arms tentatively around the girl, pressing her lips to her head before looking up at a curly-haired boy who’s all awkward gangly limbs. “Y mi tortuga.”
“Todavía eres horrible,” The boy says, but wraps his arms around both of them, and the door closes with a hiss of the seal locking it down.
Nico turns away from the glass. He’s supposed to be supervising the visit, but he can still do that and make a phone call too. Their hunter liaison is in the room, even if right now he’s talking to the aunt about something to do with the tattoos spiraling up his right arm.
The number he dials rings through to a voicemail. 
“You’ve reached Ricky Pontevecchio. I’m probably in class or on a dive. Leave your name and number and I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”
The voicemail box is never full.
Nico doesn’t know if that’s because Ricky is listening to his messages, or deleting them outright as soon as he sees who left them.
“Hey Ricky, it’s me. Again. Just wanted to check in, see how things are going. Sounds like you’re doing field work now. The dives out here have gotta be cool, right? Way better than that nasty beach at Coney Island you wanted to go to every year for your birthday.” He looks back through the glass. Olivia is showing Joey her dyed hair, and Mauricio is pulling sketches out of a flat sort of briefcase, all bright colors and sharp edges and huge-eyed characters.
Joey is squashed in between the two of them, smiling and laughing, un-self-conscious about the teeth.
He was right, she just needed to get in there, and she forgot everything she was worried about as soon as those kids accepted her for who she is now.
They’re doing just fine.
“I’d love to hear all about it sometime, if you wanna talk. It’s still 310-555-2876. I’ve got the phone on me at work, and I’m the boss, so I can always pick up and talk to ya. And I’m a light sleeper so don’t worry about wakin’ me up calling during the day, okay?” 
There’s a thud from inside the room, and he whips back to the window. Everyone’s laughing, and Mauricio is holding Joey’s hand up like a wrestling match winner, shaking his other hand out.
He flicks the switch on the wall to bring the intercom online, and hears just enough to realize that Joey just won her first arm wrestling match with Mauricio in four years. 
He turns it off again. 
“Ricky, I just wanna hear how you’re doing. Don’t even wanna see you, if that’s not what you want.” He leans on the wall, sniffing in a breath and wiping the back of his hand over his eyes. “I swear to God,” he coughs when the word burns his throat, “all I want is to know you’re okay. I never shoulda hurt you, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kiddo.” He swallows. “I know why you hate me. I wish I’d never given you a reason to. But I’d like to give you a reason to trust me again, if you wanna…”
The message system screeches in his ear, telling him he’s run out of time. That he can press pound to start the message again or hang up to save it.
He snaps the phone shut and leans on the wall.
His elbow must have hit the intercom, because he can hear Joey singing softly, Mauricio joining in slightly off key, Olivia humming along. 
He looks up just enough to see the time on his watch. There’s twenty-three minutes of visiting hours left. 
He can get himself together before Joey comes back. With any luck, she’ll be so excited the visit went well that she won’t notice if he’s not looking right at her or if his eyes are a little too shiny. He can keep her talking about her family and she won’t hear enough of his voice to notice it’s choked and shuddery.
He turns around, slides down the wall, rests his head in his hands, and lets himself cry.
He can help Joey get her family back. He’s helped two other vampires do the same. He’s good at it. Knows what they need to hear when, how to personalize the ways they learn to control their hunger and instincts. He all but promises them that when they’re done in the mentor program, the people they love most will be permanent, stable parts of their lives. That they’ll have the closest thing to a normal family a vampire will ever get. 
But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t put his own back together.