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#I say as I scroll until my sleep meds knock me on my ass
crybaby-bkg · 2 years
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I think Bakugou loves you in such ways, that it seems small to other people. They ask you, how is he romantic? He doesn’t seem like the type—how does he woo you? Love you? And the answer comes so easily to you.
He loves you in ways that are overlooked by a glutton. He runs out into the rain when you come home from a long day, umbrella ready. The only thing you have to do is hold the handle, and he holds you—doesn’t let your feet touch the muddy ground, answers to your giggling inquiry of why you can’t walk with, because you’re too clumsy for your own good. That he can’t afford any more gauze or bandaids because of your slip ups, but he kisses them tender every time, anyway.
He loves you in ways that are simple, but carry more meaning than meets the eye. He buys your favorite food, your comfort snack along with it, stops at the convenience store to pick up those gross flavored drinks you swear by. It’s not even an ask from him, just a natural order of things, to spoil you in ways that come easily, in ways that you can’t help but praise, in ways that he becomes bashful because to him, all he’s doing is the bare minimum.
He loves you in ways that make your chest warm and your eyes sting. He adapts to you and your emotions, learns when holding you is enough and when his brash words of encouragement are needed. He reassures you, kisses kindly behind your ears when you need his voice of reasoning. He listens and he does and he tries and even though he thinks it may never be enough, it’s always the right timing.
Bakugou loves you in everyday small gestures that equal a lifetime of adoration. That shows you he doesn’t just tolerate you with the occasional grand gesture to shut your nagging up. He loves you everyday, chooses to, and the overwhelming feeling of being loved by Bakugou is something you don’t think anyone could truly ever understand.
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ikingsley · 4 years
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Ina x MC: Late Nights
Ina x MC: Late Nights
Summary: Ina misses a date she planned.
Warnings: Angst! Also warning for brief mentions of alcohol.
Tag: @samanthadalton @domakir @kulaykape @hellyeah90sbaby @dopeyouth @kwaj05 @thedaft1​ @swimmingshoebakerydreamer​
Author’s Notes: I wanted to provide a little more background on Luna, who’s a neuroscience major. I also was craving angst, so this is the product of that.
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Friday @12:47 pm
Ina: I’ll see you at home tonight; remember, I’m cooking.
Luna: Oh lord 🙏
Ina: Hey! I promise it’ll be fine. All you need to do is show up. See you then, mi amor ❤️.
But now, it was almost 3 in the morning. The apartment was dark and quiet, except for the TV that was on at low volume. Luna was sprawled on the couch; she had knocked out a long time ago. What was supposed to be a fun date night with Ina had turned into a night of anguish for Luna. 
Ina was supposed to come home early to cook — albeit a very basic meal, but nevertheless, a meal — for Luna. The two were supposed to play some Trivial Pursuit and then cuddle to a movie together. Little did they know that that was quite the opposite of what would really happen that night.
When Luna had arrived at Ina’s apartment to find Ina not there, she hadn’t been worried. She’d been held up in the office quite often before. A student asking for an extension, an administrator here and there...but as the minutes slid into hours, Luna began losing hope. And with that dissipating, Luna became more and more angry. She texted Ina multiple times, just to receive radio silence. She had to rearrange her volunteer schedule at the hospital for this, and Ina hadn’t even bothered to show up at her own place. For such a driven and brilliant woman, Ina could be so irritating.
Ina got out of the cab, lurching forward towards her apartment. She mumbled incoherently to herself as she fumbled with her keys. When she finally was able to let herself into her home, she stumbled over her own heels and fell down, subsequently causing a loud crash sound. Oh crap, she muttered.
Luna jumped up, already on high alert. She looked around, only to find Ina on the floor. Luna gave Ina a sad, disappointed look, but turned away as a tear fell from her eye. This seemed to slightly sober Ina up.
“Wait- Luna!” Ina said desperately, clawing at the floor, trying to get up. The cry in her voice caused Luna to turn around for a split second. “Can we please talk?”
“Ina, you’re too out of it to have a mature conversation. Christ, you reek,” Luna sighed, shaking her head and retreating to the bedroom.
It hadn’t been the first time Ina had come home intoxicated, but those times, Ina was funny, and Luna had taken care of her accordingly. More importantly, on those occasions, Ina hadn’t planned out a date night.
Ina poured herself a shot of coffee and downed it in an attempt to sober up. When she felt like she had gained some sort of consciousness, she walked towards the bedroom. Right before she had reached the doorway, she held herself back, drawing in a deep breath. The conversation that she wanted to take place was going to be heavy, and she knew it.
Luna was curled up on her own side of the bed, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. Tears rolled down her face, onto the pillow, but she had no control over her them. 
“Luna,” Ina breathed out. It was low, but very well enunciated.  
“You’re welcome to sleep on the couch in the living room,” Luna said sarcastically.
“I know you’re mad. Today was supposed to be about us, and I blew it.”
Though Ina couldn’t see Luna, she felt her eye roll. “You really did.”
Ina walked over to Luna’s side of the bed and crouched down to meet Luna’s eyes. She was met with Luna shifting on the bed, rolling over so that Ina couldn’t see her crying.
“Oh, real mature,” Ina scoffed.
“Bye bye!” Luna said in a sing-songy voice.
“Who the hell are you talking to?” Ina snapped.
“MATURITY. She left when you came home, wasted and reeking on our date night. God, just go to sleep, Ina. It’s three in the morning. The couch is practically screeching your name,” Luna said as her voice finally broke. The sarcastic facade could only last a few moments. She pointed to the door, trying to get Ina to leave her alone.
Ina stood in the middle of the bedroom, just watching Luna cry. It hurt. She hurt Luna. What have I done, Ina reckoned, wiping at her own tears.
Finally, Ina trudged out of the room. She plopped herself on the couch; the only times she’d actually slept there were when Luna fell asleep in her arms, and she didn’t want to wake her.
When Ina left the room, Luna let out a sob, followed by a stream of tears. For the past few days, Ina had acted distant. Luna thought it would be a quick phase; Ina had publishing deadlines throughout the year. When a big deadline approached, Ina would immerse herself in her work, and Luna understood. Sure, she was clingy, but she knew how much work meant to Ina. And when Ina met the deadline, Luna was the first to congratulate her, and they’d celebrate together. But never had anything like this happen before. Never had Ina come home smelling this foul. Never had Ina missed a date she planned and seemed excited about. Most of all, never had she let Luna down like this before.
The two hugged themselves on their respective sleeping arrangements. Tears flowed freely and the women tossed and turned. By now, hours had gone by, and neither had slept a wink.
~
The sun had come up and light broke into the window. Luna huddled under the covers, acting as if the sun’s light was the reason she couldn’t sleep. At this point, she had stopped crying - she felt that her tear ducts couldn’t physically produce anything anymore.
“Luna, I love you,” Ina’s voice rang out. 
Had that been real? The sleep-deprived young woman didn’t know if Ina had actually spoken to her or if that was a figment of her imagination, recalling happier times of Ina’s many love confessions.
“Luna,” The voice said again. “God! Just look at me! Please.”
Now, Luna knew she wasn’t hallucinating anymore. She pulled off the covers, facing Ina for the first time in hours. And with a quick glance, Luna discovered that Ina didn’t look much better than herself. It was evident that she also hadn’t slept, and dried tears stained her face.
Luna’s lower lip quivered, and she knew, somehow, she was about to cry again. And once again, she pulled the covers over her face.
“What can I do, Luna? You used to tell me I was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen, and now you can’t even look at me.”
“Leave me alone,” Luna grumbled.
For a moment, there was silence, but then, Ina attacked. She yanked off the covers and pinned Luna down with her body. 
“I love-” Ina cried out, but she was interrupted by the pain flashing through Luna’s eyes. It had only been a mere second, because Luna shut her eyes so promptly to ease her pain, but it had taken its toll. 
God, what am I doing, Ina thought to herself, rolling onto the other side of the bed. For a while, the two just sat staring numbly at the ceiling. It was as if they were reflecting - physically together, but mentally, miles away.
It was Luna who clasped the other woman’s hand. Ina wasn’t expecting it, but she returned the grip.
“I’m really sorry, Luna,” Ina admitted. “I’m such an ass.”
“I know you’re stressed, it’s fine-”
“It really isn’t, Luna. I made a commitment, and I failed to follow through.”
“I’m more disappointed than mad or anything else, really.”
And if this was supposed to be any sort of consolation to Ina, it really wasn’t. Somehow, her heart dropped even further into her chest. Having disappointed Luna was worse than upsetting her.
The two sat in silence for a long time, contemplating. They could hear each other’s sniffles every so often, followed by them clearing their throats. Their hearts still beat together as one, even after feeling so apart.
“Ina?” Luna questioned, releasing her hand from Ina’s hand. She moved to face her as Ina did the same.
Before, Ina had only seen glimpses of her lover, but now, it was all real. Luna’s face was now wet with tears, but she still had a small, sad smile on her face. That smile. It was the one that broke her heart into a million pieces, something that only Luna knew how to put back together. 
Ina shut her eyes, trying to not let herself cry for the umpteenth time in a span of 12 hours. 
“Hey. What’s wrong?” Luna asked sympathetically. Ina just shook her head, looking back at the ceiling through her tear-glazed eyes. She reached out to Ina to cup her face. “Ina, look at me. What’s wrong?”
“Look at you. I was the one who screwed up, and now you’re comforting me,” Ina said, letting out a quick breath. This girl was truly something else.
“Missing a date night...that’s not like you. At all. So something’s up, and you’re not telling me,” Luna said intuitively. 
“I-” Ina began, but her voice wavered, and a sob followed. 
“Come here,” Luna said, opening up her arms.
Ina inched towards Luna, and Luna wrapped her arms around Ina. They stayed like this for a while, until Luna brought her hand around to wipe away Ina’s tears. 
“Ever since you started volunteering at the hospital, I feel like we’ve...grown apart,” Ina said.
“I- I’m not sure what to say to that, Ina. I have to focus on my own future, just like you had to in college,” Luna said back softly.
“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to drop it or anything like that. I know you’ll need some kind of experience for med school. I’m just...worried about us,” Ina admitted.
“Is that why you were drinking tonight?” Luna asked.
“Well, my paper was one reason, but then I began thinking about us. How much you’ve grown since we met. And now, you’re about to take the MCAT. You’re already so busy now; imagine when you get into med school and become a famous neuroscientist.”
“We’ve both always been busy, but we’ve managed it. You’re so important to me, Ina. And don’t you forget it. Because I won’t. My future is important, but mainly because you’re gonna be a huge part of it.”
Ina smiled slowly, meeting Luna’s eyes. “How do you always know what to say?”
“Because we’ve been through hell and back, Ina.” That glimmer in Luna’s eyes was back, giving Ina the confidence she needed.
“You know, you’re right. As a great poet once said, ‘Love will find a way through paths where wolves fear to prey,’” Ina chuckled.
“Oh god, you’re quoting Lord Byron now?” Luna broke out into a laughing fit.
“He defined poetry from the Romantic period! Maybe he didn’t find his own...person, but he was a great poet.”
“Well, you’re my person, and I’m yours. You’re not losing me, and you never will. We’re practically stuck together for eternity,” Luna jested. 
“There’s no one I’d rather be stuck with,” Ina grinned.
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ceratonia-siliqua · 4 years
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Rules: answer 30 questions and tag 20 blogs you are contractually obligated to know better
Tagged by @spidey-sins
Name/Nickname: Cera but Ru calls me her heart 
Gender: Boy (transman)
Star sign: Capricorn
Height: 5’2. Sometimes the tack 3/4 of the end but I just say 5′2 lol
Time: 1pm but this probably won’t get posted until closer to 3pm because I have therapy soon
Birthday: January 13th
Favorite Bands: Glass Animals, Young the Giant, Cold War Kids, Nothing But Thieves, Arctic Monkeys, and Radiohead (don’t at me lol)
Favorite Solo artists: Joji, Florence + The Machine, Orville Peck, Tyler the Creator, and Oliver Tree 
Song stuck in my head: Pretty Boy by Joji but I really wanna listen to Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths. Sadly though that song makes me sob right now so I’ve had to not for the sake of my eye balls.
Last movie: Written on the Wind (1956), had to watch it for my film class and let me just say that Rock Hudson was hot as hell and I got to pine freely since he was gay haha
Last Show: Oh god... I think Grimefighters??? It was on YouTube and I used to watch Dirty Jobs as a kid and it’s kind of the British version of that. 
When did I create this blog: January of this year I believe? Either that or December 2019.
What do I post: Fics and personal updates right now it seems haha. I tend to reblog a lot of stucky though 
Last thing googled: “you are jeff poem” (its by silken)
Other blogs: none other than a deactive blog from eons ago.
Do I get asks: Right now I’m getting quite a bit. I appreciate that people are checking in. 
Why I chose my url: I love plant meanings and how they symbolize certain concepts, moods, and ideas. Ceratonia siliqua is the scientific name for the Carob Tree. Based on floragraphy, it means “Love after death; Love beyond the grave”.
Following: 38. I like to keep my dash very small and niche. I can easily scroll to where I left off and I like not missing posts. 
Followers: 212 (and I love everyone of them)
Average hours of sleep: 8ish but that’s because my sleeping med knocks my ass out for that period of time. I tend to wake up at 6 am naturally for some reason so I usually pee, brush my teeth, and then pass back out. 
Lucky number: 13
Instruments: Ukulele and vocals for me mainly. I used to play clarinet and piano but alas I do not anymore. 
What am I wearing: Nike exercise shirt and red basketball shorts. It’s my comfy outfit. 
Dream job: Writer, something with film, or teacher
Dream trip: Anywhere Ru is or wants to go really. 
Favorite food: Depends on the day. Food usually wants to murder me so things I like might not like me back lol.
Nationality: American
Favorite song: Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths is my current one but it rotates. I will listen to one song on loop for weeks and that’s my song till I get tired of it. 
Last book read: Last thing I completed was Oedipus Rex and I am smack in the middle of Medea. 
Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: oh gosh.... Hades maybe?  MCU could be cool but I feel like it would be really stressful to live in. 
Tagging: @howdoyousleep3 @frobster @leisurelypanda @the1918 @thewaythatwerust @pastelprisma @paradox-psyc-hoe-sis 
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chickensarentcheap · 4 years
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Sanctuary - Chapter 48
Warnings: angst
Tags: @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​, @thunderintheshadows​, @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @valkyrie-of-the-light​
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An incessant knock at the door rouses her from her sleep, and she groans in protests as she rolls over onto her back and stares up at the cove ceiling. She's unsure of how much time has passed since Tyler left to attend to the drama with McMann, but the sun has changed positions and is now at full force as it streams through the window and onto the bed.  She presses the heels of her palms on her eyes in an attempt to both clear the sleep out of them and rid her brain of some of the lingering fogginess. Hoping that if she stays as motionless and as silent as possible, whoever is trying to contact her will just go away.  She's exhausted;  a fatigue that she's come to recognize as a late first trimester side effect. With each of her pregnancies it had set in at the same; somewhere between the middle and the end of the second month.  She does the math in her head; figuring out the exact dates that conception was the most possible. He'd just gotten back from El Salvador; a simple (for once) in and out assassination of a known human trafficker.  Sarge had picked the kids for a rare weekend at his and grandma's house, and he'd given her a wink as he'd teased her about being able to spend 'noisy adult time' with her frequently absent husband.   Which they'd managed plenty of; wild and uninhibited, intense and passionate, often rough. And it was the first time in a long  time she had actually been make the noises that she'd gotten so used to hiding behind her hand or a pillow.    
Condoms had become their go to for protection after Declan had been conceived when she was on the pill. And seeing as neither of them at the time had been one hundred sold on whether to have more children, that ruled out getting her tubes or a vasectomy for him, so something had to be used.  So she thought they'd been careful.
Apparently not careful enough.
She places both hands on her stomach; still flat for now (aside from the baby weight she hasn't managed to lose since having Declan), but if her intuition, calculations, and pregnancy history were correct, she'd be just beginning to show around the beginning of the fifth month.  It wouldn't be much; just a little bump that would be visible underneath tight fitting clothes.  But it would seem much more real than it did right now; when all she had to show for growing a life inside of her was fatigue and horrible all day sickness.  It was something she always marvelled at; the changes in her body as the weeks and months progressed, the way her hips and her breasts would fill out, the way her hair would become thicker and more vibrant, the way her skin seemed to glow. And it was always magical, no matter how many times she carried a life inside of her, to feel that little person moving around. The kicking and the squirming, the way -in the last trimester- you could sometimes see the entire outline of a hand or a foot when room was starting to run out and they had no more vacant space to move into.  And above everything, she couldn't get enough of the way her husband 'softened' over the last three months; the way that big strong man would lie in bed at night with those calloused and battered hands resting on her belly, the most gentle smile curving his lips and the utmost excitement in his eyes every time the baby kicked or seemed to respond to his voice.
And she smiles as she thinks of those times past and those moments still to come.  When they'd be in the comfort and security of their own home, back under the same roof as their children, finally able to relax and enjoy the new life that they'd be bringing into this world. Things would be different this time; he'd be around for the majority of the pregnancy, able to attend more appointments and ultrasounds, no going out of the country for extended periods of time, no worry every time the phone rang that he'd run off and put himself in danger.  
The knocking has ceased, and she once again closes her eyes, hands still on her stomach, attempting to fall back asleep once more. Sleep gave her the opportunity not to worry about him. The only time where she isn't stressed out and her mind is imagining all the worst case scenarios.  And she feels as if she's just on the brink of sleep when she hears the faint scratching of a key card being slid through the security slot, followed by the click as the system unlocks the door. She quickly jumps off the bed, feeling temporarily dizzy as she scurries through the door; she'd put the chain lock and the deadbolt in place, exactly as he'd instructed her to do if he ever left her alone.
“Wait...wait...” she implores, and hurriedly draws back the chain and snaps open the bolt. “...usually you call when you're on your back so I know to unlock everything, why...”
She stops mid sentence when she comes face to face with Nik.  The other woman's lips set in a grim line, dark eyes troubled, And immediately thinks the worst. All those times she's spent imaging that knock on the door; how Nik would be standing there with that exact same expression, preparing to give her devastating news.
“What happened?” she can't help the panic that settles into her voice. “Please tell me he's okay. Please tell me he's not...”
“Tyler's fine,” Nik assures her, yet her expression doesn't change. “I'm here to talk to you.”
“About?”
“About Tyler.”
Esme frowns. “Look, if you're here to tell me you've been fucking him and he's leaving me for you, I'll kill both of you. Just saying.”
“He would never do anything like that to you and you know. Can I come in? This is a conversation we need to have behind closed doors. This isn't something you want your neighbours hearing.”
She senses the dire importance in the other woman's voice, and then steps back and holds the door open, motioning for her to step into the room.  Closing the door, she resets the chain and the deadbolt. Just in case.
“I heard the good news,” Nik says, as she surveys the room, hands on her slender hips, expression still cold and unnerving. “About the baby.”
“You talked to Tyler?”
“A little while ago.  I ran into him. Where they're holding Michael McMann.”
“Yeah, he left a while ago.  I guess Mark and his guys were having some issues with McMann and Tyler's the one that puts the  most fear into him. Why were you there? Just checking up on things?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“Nik, what's going on? You seem...I don't know...pissed.”
“I'm just a little upset,” she admits. “About this whole situation. With McMann.”
“I know it's taking a long time. Especially to find out where the kids are. But we've been doing everything we can. We've been  running intel around the clock and Yaz has tech in every possible place he can think of. And Tyler can't do much until he actually knows where the kids are, so...”
“Did you know?” Nik interrupts.
“Know what?”
“About McMann. About where he is.”
“I know that Mark and his guys are holding him somewhere until the IRA makes up their mind. I know that they've been trying to get information out of him; about where his kids are.”
Nik's eyes narrow. “That's all you know?”
“”What more is there to know? That's all I've been told.”
“And who told you? About what was happening with McMann?”
“Tyler did. Why? Shouldn't have he? Was he supposed to keep a secret?  Look, if you're pissed at him for telling me, he's been having a hard time...mentally...since McMann told him what he would have done to me had his people caught me. He's been having real low moments and he's just not himself, Nik. He's obsessing over things and he misses the kids and he hasn't been taking his meds and....”
“Esme....” she begins, choosing her words carefully. “...what am I about to tell you? I'm not doing this to upset you. Or hurt you.  And the last thing I want to do is cause problems for you or that baby. Because you're my friend and I love you and...”
“I love you, too. I know we have our problems, but...”
“....I need to stay as calm as you can. Can you do that for me?”
“You can't expect me to be calm when you have that tone in your voice or that look in your eyes. What's going on? He is cheating on me, isn't he. That fucking bastard.”
“No. It's not that. Believe me when I say that Tyler would never, ever do that to you. And he's had the opportunities.”
“Thanks to you,” her tone is accusatory.
“And I'm sorry for that. I really am.  For ever crossing those boundaries. But this something you need to hear. Something that is far worse than the thought of him cheating on you, believe me.”
“Okay...” she crosses her arms over her chest. “....what the hell has he done?”
“You honestly do not know anything else about McMann and what's been happening to him?”
She shakes her head. “Just what I told you. I don't have a reason to know.”
“Actually, you do.  Tyler hasn't been telling you the truth. About the McMann thing. About what really happened. About where he's being kept. And what's going on while he's being kept there.”
“Nik, what the hell are you talking about? What would Tyler have to lie about? So what if the Marines are holding this guy and maybe roughing him up now and then. He's a sick and twisted fuck nut that deserves a good beat down. You  know what he said about me? What he would have done to me? How he would have made Tyler watch? That is sick shit. And he deserves to have his ass handed to him.”
“This goes way beyond someone having their 'ass handed to them'.  I want you to look at something...” Nik pulls her phone out of the front pocket of her pants, tapping on the icon for her photo gallery and then scrolling through pictures before holding the phone out to Esme. “...just keep flipping through them.”
Sighing, Esme holds the phone in the palm of her hand; a frown spreading across her face at the first image. Of a man restrained in a folding metal chair; a heavy chain around his torso keeping him in place, hands restrained behind his back, ankles bound, a hood over his head.
“That's Michael McMann,” Nik explains. “He's being held in a storage locker on the outskirts of town. In an industrial area. Do you know how he got there?”
“I know Tyler went to meet him and there was a plan arranged for Mark and his buddies to help grab him and that they were going to take him somewhere to hold him. I had no idea where.”
“He was drugged. Do you know who drugged him?
“How would I know? I wasn't even there. I just told you that I...”
“Tyler did. Tyler drugged him. And he could have killed him with how much he gave him.”
Her frown grows. “Where would Tyler get drugs from? He doesn't do drugs. He won't even take medication that's prescribed to him.”
“Billy Flynn gave them to him. That's where he met McMann. At Flynn's bar. Did you know that?”
She shakes her head.
“See this?”  Nik uses her index finger to switch pictures. “That's Michael Flynn's throat. See how bruised it is? Someone just about snapped his windpipe.  See the fingerprints on the side of his neck? That's when someone was choking him to restrain him.  And this...” she brings up the next picture. “...is the inside of McMann's mouth. Someone pulled three of his molars out. With pliers.”
“Why are you showing me these?”  Esme pushes the phone back into her friend's hands. “What does this have to with me?”
“It was Tyler. Tyler did these things.”
“What?” she can't help but laugh at the absurdness of it.  “You're kidding, right? Tyler? My Tyler? He did all that?”
Nik nods.
“You're telling that my husband drugged someone, kidnapped them, and is holding them hostage...in order to torture them...in a storage locker?”  
“That's exactly what I'm telling you.”
“Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? This has to be some kind of joke. Did Mark put you up to this? Because this is something Mark would do. This is the kind of sick shit he'd get off on. And I wouldn't put it past him to blame it on Tyler.  There is no way my husband would do this. This is not who he is. He doesn't torture and maim people. He kills them;when he has to.  But he doesn't do this,” she gestures towards the phone. “You know him, Nik. You've known him for even longer than I have. And you know that is not Tyler.”
“Esme, I would not come here and burden you with this. Especially now. Especially when there's a baby inside of you and I know you've had problems in the past with the others. But he won't listen to anyone. We've tried to talk him out of this. Mark, Yaz, myself. We've all tried.  And he won't listen. He won't budge. Regardless of what McMann did, this...” Nik holds aloft her phone. “....this is not right. This should not be happening.”
“There's no way he would do all that,” Esme argues.  “Not Tyler. He kills because he has to. Because it's either him or them. He doesn't do shit like this. That's not who he is and you know that.”
“You just said he's been having some issues. Mental ones.”
“Yeah, with his PTSD and not taking his meds. But he doesn't go Reservoir Dogs on someone because he's off his meds. He gets moody and depressed but he's more liable to kill himself than someone else. This he would not do. I know him, Nik. I know what he's like. Whether it's when he's at the highest of his highs or the lowest of his lows. And I know he would not do this.  So I don't know who told you all of this; that he's doing this. But it's not him.”
“He told me, Esme. Tyler told me. After I heard it from Mark. It's why I came here.  To confront Tyler. To try and talk some sense into him. He's not in his right mind. If he was, there's no way he would do this.  You're my last resort. I wouldn't have to come to you and put this on you if I had another way of handling this.”
She doesn't know how she feels.  Shocked? Numb? Disgusted even? None of it makes sense. None of it seems real. Even with the proof right there in those photographs.  And she feels nauseous; the distinct burn of bile as it rises in her throat.  “He would not do this,” she says, even though her gut knows it's true. That Nik would not do this to her; purposely make up something so outrageous just to hurt her.  “Tyler would not do this.”
“He would. And he is. Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
“I don't know....” she admits, and lays a hand on her stomach.  “....I don't know what I need to do.”
“Sit down,” Nik takes her by the arm and guides her towards the bed, still holding onto her as she lowers herself down onto the edge. “I'll get you some water. Just try and stay calm, okay?”
Esme nods, then grabs the phone out of Nik's hand before she can depart. Tears clouding her vision as she returns to the photo gallery and sends each of those disturbing, nauseating photos to her own cell phone.
“Do you want to go for a walk?” Nik asks, as she returns with a glass of water from the bathroom. “Maybe some fresh air will do you some good. I know it's hard being cooped up like this and you've been under a lot of stress. It will be good for you to get out. Get some exercise. Some sunshine,” she attempts a reassuring smile, and rubs her friend's arm comfortingly. “I know how hard this is. To hear this. To see those pictures.”
“I can't believe he would do this,” Esme's hands shake as she lifts the water to her lips, and Nik puts a supportive hand under the bottom of the glass.  “This is not Tyler. He doesn't do things like this, Nik.”
“Not normally, no. But he has been under a lot of stress. A lot of tension. Worry. And now you're having a baby and he has that on his plate too....”
“Don't bring the baby into this. If anything, that's something he should be happy about.”
“He's been off his meds?”
She nods. “I don't know how long for. I've been so caught up with worrying about the kids and worrying about him not getting killed that I haven't been paying attention.”
“It's not your fault,” Nik rubs her back now. “You're his wife, not his babysitter.”
“I always know if he's going through a crisis. Always. And I'm always there for him. To help him through it. And maybe if I noticed sooner...”
“Esme, don't do this to yourself. None of this is your fault.  You can help him, but you can't fix him. He has to want to fix himself.”
“I told him not to take this job. I begged him not to take it. He'd just gotten back from Guatemala and he promised me...he promised the kids...that he would stay home. That he wouldn't take anything else for at least two weeks. And then McMann showed up in Telluride and everything went to shit.”
“That was McMann's plan. When he couldn't kill Tyler in Guatemala, he changed his entire plan. He concocted this elaborate story about his wife and his kids because he knew that Tyler would cave in at the mention of kids. He wanted to bring him here to start shit with the IRA. So the IRA would kill him and McMann's hands would be clean. No connection to Tyler's death. But when he brought you in and you started digging around....”
“So it's my fault?” the tears fall in earnest now. “He's doing this because of me? Because I got involved in this?”
“No. Esme, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying that McMann had to make things even more complicated and twisted to get his hands on Tyler. Including targeting you and the kids. And that's why Tyler is doing this. Or at least that's his rationale. He feels he needs revenge.”
“For what? I'm fine. The kids are fine. What...?”
“The threat was even worse in his mind because he's not in a good place. You know what he gets like that, when he's off his meds.”
She nods. “He obsesses over things. He thinks things are a hundred times worse than what they are.”
“It's Tyler doing these things, but it's not Tyler at the same time. He's not the Tyler you know.  He may think he is, but he isn't.”
“What am I supposed to do? If he's that unhinged, I won't be able to get through to him.  No one will be able to get through to him.”
“Tough love?” she suggests.  “What is he most afraid of? Not just now. But always.”
“I can't do that him, Nik. I can't hurt him like that. If things are that bad now, what will he get like if I do that to him? I just can't. What he's doing is wrong, I'm not denying that. But I can't break his heart.”
“Esme, this is what he needs. To snap him out of it. If he has something he's afraid to lose, that will be what forces him to save himself. You know I'm right. Remember when you kicked him out? Six months it took. But he smartened up, didn't he? Because he was afraid you'd never take him back and he'd never see his kids.”
“I can't,” she insists. “I can't hurt him like that. Of all the things that would break him...”
“It will force him to get his shit together. It will make him realize that he's out of control and he's need to get his head on straight. I know you don't want to do it. You don't want to use yourself and your kids...his kids...as weapons, but you need to. If you want to save Tyler, you have to do it.  Or he'll become someone you don't even recognize. And you won't have a choice to walk  away for good. I know you don't want that.”
“No, I don't...” she uses the back of her hand to brush tears off her cheeks.  “...I don't want to walk away. I love him. And I know he loves me. I know he loves his kids. And I'm having a baby and I can't do it alone. I can't do it without him.”
“You'll have to if this goes on. Because you're going to loose him. To whatever the hell is going on inside his head. If you want to help save him, you have to do this. He needs you to do this.”
“Fine,” she reluctantly agrees. “But it isn't going to well. It's going to go to shit. And then what? When he loses his mind? I'm not afraid of him. I know he won't hurt me. That's one thing I do know for sure. But he's going to flip out, Nik. And this place will be a battle zone.”
“If that happens,  you call me and I'll come and get you. You can come stay with me in my room until he calms down., okay?”
Esme nods.
“It's going to be alright,” Nik assures her, as she wraps an around her friend's shoulder, pulling her tight into her side, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Everything is going to be alright.”
****
She's sitting at the end of the bed when he returns, nervously bouncing her legs up and down and chewing on her bottom lip; cell phone clutched tightly in her hand.
“What's going on?” Tyler asks, as she slips his feet out of flip flops, leaving them by the door. “I thought you were going out with Tanis?”
“I changed my mind,”  her voice is strained, the emotion evident. And she doesn't look at him, even when he walks further into the room and lays his hand on her back and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “Where were you?” she asks.
“I told you. I went to help out with McMann.”
“What kind of help?”
“What does it matter?”
“I'm just curious, I guess.  I mean, if three Marines can't handle him, what are you supposed to do about it?”
“Just an extra pair of hands there, I suppose. What's going on? You okay? You seem a little...”
“Upset?” she finishes for him.
He nods.
“I need you to be honest with me, Tyler. I don't want you lying to me. Where were you?”
“I just told you...”
“I know where you were and who you were with. But where were you? As in location? Why is it big secret? Why am I not allowed to know these things? How come every time I ask you, you either totally ignore me or you just change the subject?”
“You don't need to know. Your part in all of this is done now. There's nothing left for you to do. Why would I get you involved in anything else? You need to be taking it easy. For the baby.”
“Don't do that,” she shakes her head, and finally turns her face towards him, her eyes darker than he's ever seen them. “Don't you use this baby as an excuse to keep things from me.”
“What are you talking about? What...?”  he attempts to lay a hand on her shoulder, and she aggressively pushes it away and stands up, facing him.
“I am going to ask you one more time,” she says, voice trembling. “Where were you?”
��I fucking told you. I was helping with McMann. Where the hell does it matter where the actual place is?”
She inhales deeply, pulls her lip between her teeth, and then exhales sharply.  “What the hell is this?”  she brings up the photos on her phone, tapping on the one of McMann restrained to the chair, hood still over his face. “Can you explain this? Tell me what this is, Tyler.”
He sighs heavily, fists tightening by his sides. “Where did you get that?”
“Nik. She sent me a whole bunch. See...” she scrolls through the pictures, and when he attempts to reach for the phone, she yanks it away, holding it behind her back. “...tell me you didn't do this. Tell me you didn't drug someone and kidnap them and tie them up in a storage locker. Tell me you didn't do those things.”
He stares at her; long and hard, blue eyes never leaving dark brown.
“Tell me,” she orders. “Tell me it wasn't you. Tell me that she's wrong. That it was someone else and they're just wanting you to take the blame. Tell me.”
Tyler shakes his head. “I can't.”
“So this was all you? All those pictures? All those things done to him? All those bruises and all the blood and the missing teeth? That was all you? You did all of that?”
He nods.
“Why? Why would you do this? What the hell,Tyler? This is not you! You don't do shit like this! You don't hurt people. You help them!”
“I've hurt plenty of people. I've killed even more. You know that.”
“You kill because you have to! Because you don't have a choice. Because it's you or them . But this! What you're doing now? You have a choice! You're choosing to do this! You're choosing to hurt someone!”
“He fucking deserves it,” his voice is low and steady, giving no evidence to the rage that's building inside of him.
“Why? Who the hell are you to say someone deserves this? Jesus Christ, Tyler! You ripped someone's teeth out of their mouth with goddamn pliers! What the fuck is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with me. He deserves this. I'm doing this for you.”
“For me?” she laughs incredulously. “For me? Why do you think I would want this? I don't want this! Put a bullet in his head and call it a fucking day! Don't do this! This is sick! This is fucked up and you know it!”
“You know what he was going to do to you? To the kids? Our kids?”
“Don't you dare use them in this. Don't you dare use them to justify this. You think this is what they would want? Their daddy doing these kinds of things to people? You worry about what Millie will say when she grows up. How she'll react when she finds out about your past as mercenary. You worry about that then you go and do this? This is somehow better?”
“She'd understand. That I did it for her.”
“You aren't going to rationalize this. No matter what you say to me. This ends now, Tyler. You hand him over to whoever is going to take him and that's it. This ends. You stop this right now.”
He shakes his head. “Why are you doing this?”
“Why am I doing this? What am I doing? Holding you accountable for your bullshit? Like I've been doing for five and a half fucking years! When I have I never not called you out on something? Did you really think I wouldn't call you out on this?”
“You weren't supposed to find out.”
“Oh and lying about it makes it so much better. You know, when Nik showed up here and said we needed to talk, I was almost hoping she was going to tell me you were fucking her. Because that would have been so much easier to deal with than this. And how sad is that? That I'd rather you fuck another woman than do something like this?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to tell me that this stops right now. That you don't go near him ever again. That you let Mark and his guys handle this from now on. This ends here.  Tell me this ends here.”
He shakes his head.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Look at these pictures!” she throws the phone at them. “Look at them, Tyler! Look at them and tell me that this is okay! Fucking look at them!”
“Don't...” he takes a step towards her, a fist clutched at his side. “....don't fucking talk to me like that.”
“What are you going to? Are you going to the same thing to me? Are you going to lose your shit on me too?”
“I'd never do that. I would never, ever hurt you.”
“Really? Are you sure? Because I thought you'd never turn into this. I never thought you'd turn into someone who would do this kind of thing. After all the years you've spent getting people away from sick fucks that do these things, you turn around and you become one of them.”
“I'm nothing like them,” he hisses through gritted teeth.
“Why are you doing this? Why? Give me one good reason. Look me in the eye and give me one good reason.”
“I told you!” he finally snaps. “He was going to hurt you. He was going to hurt our kids. What the fuck am I supposed to do? Let it happen? Be okay with it?!”
“He can't hurt us because you've got him locked up in that fucking storage place! He can't hurt anyone! So just leave him there to rot if you have to. But don't do this. You don't need to do this!”
“I do. For you. And the kids.”
“No!” she snarls, and jabs him in the chest with her forefinger.  “You don't use us like that! Don't you dare use us to justify this! We don't want you doing this! I want you to stop, Tyler. I want you to just walk away from McMann. From the job. I want you to tell Nik to find someone else to get those kids. Because you are in no way healthy enough to do this job.”
He smirks. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Talking to me like this? Who...?”
“I'm your wife, you fucking asshole!  I'm your wife and I'm worried about you! Because you're becoming someone I don't even recognize! You're slowly becoming a completely different person and I can't watch it happen. I can't just stand back and let you do this to yourself.”
“The person you remember is gone, Esme. You're remembering someone that existed for five days. In Dhaka. That's who you remember.”
“No,” she shakes her head, remaining defiant.  “I remember the person after that. The person who chose to keep going when he could have given up. That's who I remember.”
“The guy you fell in love with? He died that day on the bridge. You know he did. That's who you remember. That guy you were fucking for five days. That's who you remember.”
“No, Tyler. That's not who I remember. I remember the guy who saved a fourteen year old boy even though the job went to shit and there wasn't going to be a payout.  I remember the guy who busted his ass to get Ovi and I across the bridge. That's who I remember!”
“Do you remember the guy that got shot in the throat? That fucking bled out all over you? Do you remember him? Look at it!” he points to the scar on his neck. “Fucking look at it, Esme. You can't, can you. You can't even look at it because it because too real to you. Do you remember that guy?”
“Of course I do.”
“Because that guy died that day. And he took those other guys with him. What you got in the end? That's not the same guy.”
“You're better than that guy.  You became a better man. Do you remember saying that to me? That I made you want to become a better man? Do you remember that?”
He nods.
“You are a better man. And that's the man I want. I don't want the man that does shit like this to people. And you don't want to be that man. I know you don't want to.”
“I'm sorry,” he snarls. “That I can't be that person for you.”
“You are that person, you dick! And I want you to stay that person, Tyler. I need you stay that person. Your kids need you to stay that person.”
“You should have let me die. On that bridge. You should have just let me die.”
She fights back the tears despite the devastation his words inflict upon her heart. Her entire body. “How can you even say that? Is that really what you wanted? You wanted me to let you die?”
“It would have been better if you'd just let me go.”
“Better for who? You? You were the one that wanted to keep seeing me after Dhaka. You brought it up first. We made plans. Together. To travel and enjoy getting to know each other and see where things took us. A guy who wants to die does not do that. And you can't convince me otherwise.”
“It would have been so much easier,” he speaks with a quiet resolve, despite the rage that causes his entire body to tremble.
“For you? That's bullshit, Tyler and you know it.”
“You wouldn't have wasted the last five and a half years of you life.”
“I didn't waste anything. I married the love of my life. I had his children. There was nothing wasted. I've spent these last five and a half years loving you with everything I am and everything I have. And I spent them being loved by you. I wasted nothing.”
“None of this would be happening. This bullshit with McMann. People going after my kids. Threatening them. If I hadn't survived...”
“But you did,” she hisses. “You did survive. You didn't die because you're a stubborn fucking asshole who refuses to give up. The same stubborn asshole who coded three times in the OR and still came back. You have me. You have your children. Aren't we enough? Aren't we enough to make you want to live?”
“Of course you are. But....”
“There's no 'buts', Tyler. I know how stressed you are right now. I know you're going through a fucking nightmare mentally. And I know that it frustrates you and it confuses you and I know it scares you. But you're not in this alone. I am right here with you. And I'll fight your fight with you.”
“You shouldn't have to!” he argues. “Don't you fucking get that? You shouldn't have to keep doing this!”
“I don't have to do anything. I want to. Why won't you let me help you? Why won't you swallow your goddamn pride and let me in? Just let me help you. Please.”
“What do you want me to do? Tell me. Tell me what you want me to do.”
“I want you to stop this. This McMann bullshit. Because that's not you. Regardless of what you say, regardless of your stupid ass reasonings. That's not the man I fell in love with. That I married. That I gave children to. It's your brain, Tyler. It's messing with you. So you need to stop right now. And you need to tell Nik that you're done. Someone else can find those kids. You tell her and we leave. We get the first flight out of here and we go and get our kids and Ovi and we go home.”
He shakes his head, voice choked by emotion. “I can't.  I'm sorry.  I can't.”
“You still want to finish the job,” it's a statement, not a question. “You still think you need to stay and get it done.”
He nods.
“Well I guess you've made your choice then. It was always going to be this way, wasn't it, Tyler. You were always going to chose the job over me, weren't you.”
“That is not what I'm doing. I promised you, at the end of it, I was done.”
“I am sick to death of your promises. Of you breaking them all the time. I'm tired.  I'm tired and I've got another human being inside of me that I'm trying to keep alive. I'm tired and I'm done. You made your choice,” she steps past him, aggressively shoving her shoulder into him.
“What are you doing?” he watches as she grabs one of her suitcases out of the unlocked second closet in the hall. “Esme...what the fuck? Stop your fucking games, okay? Just stop this shit and just sit down and we will talk about this and...”
“We are way past sitting down and talking about anything,” she tosses the suitcase onto the bed, angrily yanking on the zipper to open it, then stomps to the dresses and begins tearing open drawers; gathering up various items of clothing and messily tossing them into the case.
“Just stop!” he orders. “What are you doing?!”
“I'm leaving. I'm going back to Colorado. I'll stay with my mom until Ovi brings the kids back.”
“You don't need to do that. Stop...” he stands behind and reaches around her slight frame to grab both of her wrists in one of his hands. “You don't need to leave. I don't want you to leave.”
“If I stay, I'm only going to be in your way. Just like I was in Dhaka.”
“That's not true. You were never in my way in Dhaka.”
“It wouldn't have been so hard if I'd died in that forest too. If Saju had have just done me in when he had the chance. Things would have been a lot easier on you and a lot easier on Ovi.”
“That's bullshit and you know it.”
“Why am I even here still? My usefulness ran it's coarse, right? You don't need me anymore.”
“Of course I need you. You're my wife.”
“You chose, Tyler,” she manages to yank her hands out of his grip. “You made your choice. Now you can live with it.”
“Don't do this. Please. I never chose the job over you.”
“You just did!” she bellows, and pushes him away with her elbow, tears flowing freely down her face. “You just did!”
“I promised you I'd be done after I was finished her. That was what our deal.”
“Well fuck the deal!” she shoves him away once more when he attempts to get closer. “And fuck you too, Tyler!”
“Esme...stop...don't do this. Don't leave.  I don't want you to leave.”
“You need to get your shit together,” she orders. “You need to figure out what the hell you want.”
“You,” there's no hesitation.  “I want you. I want my kids.”
“Then come with me. Tell Nik that you're done. Tell her you're finished and come home with me.”
“You know I can't. You know I can't leave those kids.”
“But you can you leave yours right? That's a never a problem to you.  It's never a problem when you walk out the door while they're sleeping and leave me to clean up your mess. You can leave your own kids...that you helped make...but not complete strangers. Makes total sense.”
“Just give me to the end of the week. Like we agreed on. That's all I'm asking for here. Just five more days.”
“And then five days become ten and ten become twenty and on and on and on.”
“Not this time,” Tyler insists. “This time I'm done. I meant what I said.”
“I'm not staying here. I refuse to stay here. I'm not hanging around to get that phone call or that knock on the door letting me know you're dead. I'm going home. To Colorado. To my mom's. And you get a hold of Ovi and you get him and my kids back. Do you understand me?”
“Esme...” he lays his hands on her shoulders. “...just stop.”
“You track down Ovi and my kids and you get their asses back to Colorado. Or I will never, ever forgive you. I will spend the rest of my life hating you if you don't  get my kids back where they belong. And stop!” she uses her elbows to knock her hands off her shoulders. “Stop touching me! I don't want you touching me right now. Just get my kids back, Tyler.”
“They're my kids too,” he angrily reminds her.
“Yeah, well try being a father once in a while. Not just when it's convenient for you and fits your schedule.”
“That's fucking low and you know it, Esme. That's really fucking low. I do what I do for those kids. For you!”
“You do what you do because you like it. You just won't admit. Because it makes you sick to admit it so you use me and the kids as an excuse. Because it makes you feel better. Quit your shit, Tyler. Just admit. For once, just admit you do this job because you enjoy it.”
“I don't enjoy it. I do it because I'm good at it. No. I'm fucking great at it. And the money...”
“Fuck the money. There is not enough money in this world to replace you! I don't care about the money. I would leave  with you right now and go back to Australia and live in that goddamn shack with you and four kids and fucking chicken in the bathroom if that's what you wanted. If that is what would make you happy. If that's what would you keep you home and safe!”
“Esme....please...just stay here with me...we can sit down and talk about this. Like rational adults.”
“Tyler, I am way past feeling rational. I'm not staying here with you.  I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes.  But I can't be around you right now. I just can't. You need time to think. Without me around.”
“No,” he remains steadfast. “I don't.
She finishes throwing the clothes into the suitcase and zips it closed. “I'll be there. When this is done. I'll be waiting for you to come home. But if in your heart you do want the job over us, don't even bother coming back. Move. Get out of my way.”
“Stop. Right now. Stop whatever fucking game this is and...”
“This isn't a game!” she screams. “I said move!”
He holds his hands up in surrender and steps backwards. “You're leaving now?” he asks incredulously, as she grabs the suitcase and heads for the door.  “Right now? Where the hell are you going?”
“I'll stay with Nik.  Then I'll get a flight back first thing tomorrow.”
He crosses the room in three long strides, slamming a palm against the door to prevent her from opening it. “Stay here. With me. Then tomorrow you book a flight and I will take you to the airport. Just stay here. With me.”
“Why? Because you think fucking me a few times will make everything better? It doesn't solve everything, Tyler. Regardless of what you think.”
“I never said that. I never even thought it. I just want you to stay. I just want to sleep here. With me. In the same bed. So I can wake up beside you. That's all I want.”
“I can't.  You need to respect that. That I need to be away from you right now. This all too much. Finding out what you've been doing. I need time to come to terms with that and I need to take care of myself and this baby and I can't do either of those things if I'm with you. You have to let me go, Tyler.”
“No. I don't, And I won't.”
“If I stay, this won't end well. Because all the worry and the stress is going to get to me and I'm going to lose this baby and you won't ever forgive yourself for that. So please. Just let me go. If you love me, if you love this baby, just let me go.”
“Fine...” he relents, removing his hand from the door and stepping back far enough to allow her to open it.
“I'm sorry,” she says,  and he reaches out to clear the tears off her cheeks with his thumbs. “This is not about not loving you. Because I do. I love you so fucking much. And it's because I love you that I'm doing this.”
He nods. “I know.”
“Do you? Because I need you to understand that. I need you to know that I love you and I'm not leaving you. I don't want this...us...to be over. I just need to take care of myself and this baby. I can't do that if I'm here. And you know I can't. You know right, that?”
“Yup.”
“I want you to find those kids. I do. And then I want you to come home. To me. To our kids. Your kids. Promise me, Tyler. If there's ever going to be one promise you make and keep, make it that one.”
“I promise. I'll come home. To you. To the kids.”
“Be careful, okay? And stay safe. Come home in one piece. And breathing.”
“I will,” he assures her.
She manages a small smiles, then reaches up to push his hair off of his forehead. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” he leans down to kiss her.  Long and languid. Tender.
“I'll see you when I see you,” she says.
He grins. “That's my line.”
“Well, I beat you to it this time.”
He lays a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him, pressing his lips to her brow.  “Stay,” he says. “Just tonight. Tomorrow I'll let you leave. I'll take you to the airport.”
“If I don't leave now, I never will. And that's not good for either of us. But I'll be waiting for you. I promise,” she places her hand on the side of his face, running her thumb over his lips and then the bristles of his beard. “I'll miss you.”
“I'll miss you too. At least call me. Before you leave tomorrow.”
“I will,” she promises, and briefly leans her forehead against his chest before stepping out into the hall and shutting the door behind her.
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