#↟ ❝ the saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost ❞ ⸢ plotting call ⸥

[ofvaporex]

In the foyer of the new clinic- a small package awaits with Ratchet's name in elegant script. Inside is a small orangeish-red decal that obviously belongs to a medic. It's old, judging by the dullness of the metal, and the amount of chipping and scuffs on the paint itself.

However, the item is elegantly inscribed with whorling decorations. Inset in the center is a minute skyline that belongs to Vaporex itself, along with the faintest little clinic on the outskirts.

A small figure of garnet and opal lies next to the medical badge, the face is blank, but the chevron and hands holding a wrench and metalmesh bandage is an obvious indicator as to whom the figure signifies.

Like the others, he includes a message

» // There are no words that could adequate convey the depth of my spark for you. You are the waves of the Mithril Sea, deep and strong. You are the aurora that blossoms from the poles, electrifying and colorful. You the first and last taste of refined energon, potent and strong. You are the visceral sensations of my functioning, and I cannot think of it without you there.

I love you.

----D.L.//«

Ratchet is very quiet as he sits down in what will be the main office of the training clinic. There's not much in here yet, but he's proud of how far it's come. But the package is what has his attention right now. He looks over it quietly, smiling at the familiar old decal. Something he'd worn so long ago it felt like a whole different lifetime.

Fingertips made for reading diagnostics trail over the patterns inscribed and carved in before he looks to the little figure.

Oh, Deadlock.

After reading the message, he opens a message back, typing it out thoughtfully, a faint smile still resting on his face.

Oh, light of my spark. You are everything to me, you know that? I don't see you nearly enough these days; I would love for you to come by more often. Especially now that I'm finally getting the academy and the training clinic off the ground. You're part of me. This life, our shared history. Everything.

I love you too. Come see me. Whenever you want.

-- Ratchet

[quotefeeling]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[thoughtkick]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[thehopefulquotes]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[surqrised]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[resqectable]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[cranberrymoons]

same old lang syne

prompt: snow (@steddieholidaydrabbles) word count: 1,000 rated: t tags: angst, open ending, post-breakup (like years and years) – aka the existentialism of running into your ex in the grocery store at christmas notes: title from earth's saddest christmas song – same old lang syne

welcome to Day 21 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

He’s standing in front of the avocado display, contemplating life and guacamole when he feels a hand land on his shoulder from behind.

“Steve?” 

He jumps, sucking in a sharp breath as he turns around, blinking at the face of the man standing a few feet away, who’s staring at him with wide eyes and a little smile. It’s so unexpected that he almost doesn’t recognize him, which is insane, because –

“Eddie,” he says. He shakes his head, letting out a little laugh. “Oh my god.”

Eddie’s face relaxes into a smile, and he holds out an arm for a hug. Steve returns it, feels his hand settle over his back in that place where he always used to hold him, slotting together warm and solid and familiar in spite of how long it’s been. 

They’ve always fit like this, together. Without even trying, they just fit.

“How are you?” he asks, pulling away before his throat can get too tight. “What are you doing here?”

There’s a lingering whiff of Eddie’s cologne clinging to his collar, and he tries not to focus on it too much. Tries not to let it draw his attention away from the way Eddie’s eyes are raking over him, his hair as wild as ever where it’s pulled back from his face. The trim cut of his leather jacket and the shine of his shoes, the soft hint of lines around his mouth.

“Just visiting,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder at nothing. “Christmas. Wayne.” He holds up the thing in his hand, which is a block of butter. “Baking cookies.”

Steve lets out a little laugh. “Nice,” he says. He holds up his basket. “Um. Same – just, parents, you know.”

And it’s been… how long? Almost ten years since they’ve seen each other. It feels a little awkward, a little weird, a little – something, but Eddie’s smile is still there on his face same as ever, and Steve’s heart gives a wet little thwump in his chest.

“Hey, uh –” Eddie clears his throat, scratches the back of his neck. “You want to grab a drink or something? Catch up?”

---

It’s Hawkins, Indiana, at 8 PM on Christmas Eve, so they predictably don’t find an open bar, but they head back to the store for a six pack and sit with it in Steve’s rental car.

It’s snowing outside, big soft flakes falling from the sky and gathering on the windshield, but he doesn’t turn on the wipers to clear it away, and neither of them comments on the fact that it was snowing like this back then too, the last time they saw each other. 

Steve’s thinking about it, though. He thinks Eddie probably is too, judging by the faraway look in his eye as he stares out the window and takes a sip of his beer. The radio is playing softly in the background, a cheery Christmas song that makes Steve feel a little like sticking his fist through the whole stereo system. The snow makes everything else outside the car feel muted and gentle, like the whole world is holding them close. 

“So how’s the–”

“What’ve you been–”

They both speak at the same time, then break off with matching embarrassed laughs. It seems to unwind some of the tension between them though, and Eddie smiles at him in the glow coming from the lights of the grocery store parking lot.

“How have you been?” he asks, turning so his back is pressed to the door, facing Steve as much as he can in the tight little space. “Where are you living now?”

“Yeah, good,” Steve says. He feels the corner of his mouth twist down. “For a while, you know. Chicago, sort of. I got married?”

“Oh, that’s–” Eddie’s eyes go a little wide, darting down to stare at his ring finger, which is empty. “Great?”

Steve lets out a quiet little sound, tilting his head to the side. “It was for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says. “Was he – or…”

“She,” Steve says. He clears his throat. “She’s great. Just– you know. Deserved better than me.”

A little line appears between Eddie’s eyebrows, and one of his hands reaches out then stops an inch away from landing on top of Steve’s. He hesitates there for a minute, like he’s not sure if it’s okay, and Steve’s eyes drop away from his face to stare down at it. 

He lifts one of his fingers, just enough that it grazes against the underside of Eddie’s palm, warm and soft, tracing a little pattern there until he draws Eddie’s hand down into his. His throat is tight, eyes hot and pricking at the corners, and he blinks a few times to clear it, eyes lifting back to Eddie’s face.

“And you?” he asks as Eddie’s hand settles in his. It feels safe there, like it’s never left. “Are you…”

“For a while,” Eddie says. “Not– you know, not married or anything, but just… seeing people. Dating. And then touring a lot and just– you know how it goes.”

And Steve doesn’t really, but he nods anyway, a little smile playing out over his face. 

“That’s right,” he says. “The band’s– I mean, congrats. You guys are doing really well.”

“The band is doing really well,” Eddie says, nodding slowly. His eyes are shining a little, and he sniffs, blinking back to Steve’s face. “I miss you.”

Steve lets out a little sound. “Don’t.”

“I do,” Eddie says. He shakes his head again, and Steve can feel it too, vision going blurry with it. “Every day. I fucked up.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” he says. “I never should’ve let you go.”

“It was the right–” 

But Steve cuts himself off, because he was going to say the right choice, which is what he’s been telling himself ever since it happened. But he doesn’t actually believe that. He never has. 

He takes a breath.

“I miss you too.”

[also on ao3]

[mqmotivate]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it. Nikita Gill

[stay-close]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[tamurakafkaposts]

The saddest word

in the whole wide world

is the word almost.

He was almost in love.

She was almost good for him.

He almost stopped her.

She almost waited.

He almost lived.

They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[thepersonalquotes]

“The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.” - Nikita Gill

[remusjohnslupin]

“The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost.

He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.”

[perfectquote]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[thepersonalwords]

“The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.” - Nikita Gill

[thehopefulquotes]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill

[surqrised]

The saddest word in the whole wide world is the word almost. He was almost in love. She was almost good for him. He almost stopped her. She almost waited. He almost lived. They almost made it.

Nikita Gill