#but im SO excited on what you'll say bc itll be new to you all obv

[fbdo1986]

Bye Bye Love - A Ferris Bueller’s Day Off Fanfic

a/n: My pride and joy, the OT3 work I’ve been working on for months! A hopefully angsty number that details Sloane’s, Cameron’s, and Ferris’s journey through heartbreak and loss after their Sophomore year in college. The title is named after a song by The Cars by the same name!

Warnings: Death Mention (of none of the main characters)

Word Count: 6,111

I can’t feel this way much longer

Expect me to survive

Heartbreak is such a shallow, meaningless word. Well, it becomes one. Before Sloane leaves, heartbreak is foreign, but Ferris and Cameron can think of the times before they confessed their feelings, and that was ugly, streaming tears, holding in shouts and the sense that everything could be gone in a flash. Cameron knew it well, despite the misconceptions Sloane and Ferris had about him not being in love. But after getting together, heartbreak is a distant, funny memory that loses its sting. And then Sloane leaves. 

Sloane went back home at first. Her grandmother had fallen ill their second year at college and she had no choice but to go back. Ferris and Cameron miss her, but they survive. They bury their heads in their studies—Ferris more into music and other beautiful things that kill time—and coast along. It’s not that hard, Cameron and Ferris spend more time together, Cameron gets A’s on his psychology papers and Ferris has a part time job at a local art gallery. They go to the movies and get pizza at night and crash on the couch in Cameron’s dorm. They dance in the kitchen and hold hands as they dream up things to do with Sloane when she gets back. They call to catch up. But she starts answering less frequently.

In the summer: a funeral. Cameron and Ferris are there, stoic but somehow deep down know that they haven’t talked to Sloane in months, so there’s more than grief and commiseration stirring. Anxious anticipation. They just want to be there for her. They know the ache they feel in their chests is different from how everyone else is aching, and Cameron reels with guilt. But before they go inside Ferris squeezes Cameron’s shoulder, an unspoken recognition that he understands.

Sloane looks… like there aren’t words accurate enough to describe her. She’s hurting, definitely, but she feels… strong, solid. Like Cam and Ferris need the brave faces more than she does. The two knew she always took on a lot of responsibility in the family, so this seemed to be no exception. She was holding up for the rest. But she’s still stunningly beautiful. The two boys see her from behind at first, but they’d know her anywhere. Maybe the passage of time made her seem that much more gorgeous, but it’s Sloane—their Sloane—and their hearts drop in their stomachs immediately as she turns around to find them standing there. Her face lights up, as though there’s nothing more that she’d want to see in front of her. She lunges at them, immediately enveloping them both in a hug. Her arms hold them tightly; she has no intention of letting them go. She breathes them in happily, letting out a laugh that is soon tinged with tears. They pull her in tighter. 

“I’ve missed you both,” She hiccups. “So much.” 

She lets them go reluctantly. Ferris immediately takes her hand and Cameron forces himself to take a step away from her. Obviously, Sloane’s family only knows about her and Ferris, so Cameron must sacrifice his affections for the both of them. A sudden twinge of heartbreak as his heart stirs in his stomach and his shoulders hunch forward. But he’d do anything for Sloane, absolutely anything, so he’ll keep himself a secret. Sloane feels her heart being torn into pieces, her face morphing to house a frown. She fights the urge to find comfort in his arms again, to kiss him, to caress his face, anything that can prove that if it weren’t for her family and the circumstances they were under right now that she would absolutely prove her adoration to him. She settles for: “You know I don’t mean it.” She lowers her voice. “I love you.” Cameron feels like crying. It’s hard to process, all of it. He doesn’t realize how much he’s missed her until now and now he can’t even show how he feels. He bites back these feelings. They sink to the bottom of his stomach and he’s stoic again. 

“Are you alright?” Ferris asks suddenly, and they all know he's not just talking about today. Not just about her grandmother. 

Sloane doesn’t know where to begin. “Things are just… hard. Complicated. The worst part is how my parents are taking it.” The three of them look over to the Peterson’s, clad in black. They look hollow, and as though they haven’t slept in several days. “I’m basically taking care of them now. I helped take care of Nana before she…” Sloane nods through the implication. “And now I’m taking care of them.” They have no problem conjuring up images of Sloane cooking breakfast for her parents and helping her mother get dressed. Her chest heaves out a heavy breath. “I didn’t know something like this could happen. That could change them—change us. Life was so simple. So good, so easy. I guess I didn’t know they could even feel like that. I just feel so guilty. Like I let that happen to them.”

“Trust me, you didn’t.” Ferris eyes lock her own with seriousness.

“You couldn’t have known.” Cameron adds.

“I know. Like, inside, I know. But I just can’t—” The service begins and Sloane has no choice but to part from them. Her eyes trace them longingly for a few moments as she turns away. The priest begins the service by quoting scripture, and Sloane is not among the audible mourners that soon start. 

Eventually, the procession begins. They step out into the foggy, gray afternoon; a fitting sight for such an occasion. Ferris and Cameron ache to be at Sloane’s side, to be her crutch, yet they know that she’s needed by her parents' sides instead. The clouds hang dark and somber in the sky, and only slivers of light filter on the damp grass. The patrons stiff bodies shuffle to set flowers on the casket and say their kind words about the Peterson matriarch. The burial finishes, and they wordlessly trudge back inside to enjoy a lavish spread of refreshments. 

Ferris and Cameron find their way back to Sloane effortlessly, although they give her space that she seems like she needs for a few moments. Ferris notes Cameron’s tensity, he looks as though he could be holding back tears, and despite the fact that he knows they might not be about the funeral, Ferris doesn’t blame him. He flashes Cam a warm smile. Cam’s always been extremely empathetic, so he guesses their new awareness of Sloane’s life while she’s been away is taking a toll on him. Ferris feels stiff, but he feels lighter, better, when he’s around Sloane and Cameron. In Ferris and Cameron’s unspoken language (which, aside from circumstances like these, includes Sloane) they note how she must be the one to come back to them. She’ll let them in, tell them everything that’s been going on. They can’t pry it out of her.

Sloane comes back to them and they wait for what’s next in tense silence. Ferris wonders on his lucky stars if there’s any chance they’re getting out of here, if they can go back to his place and seek refuge from the world outside. That Sloane can change from her black dress and they can laze around with the window open and forget about grief, loss, and all things heartbreak. She pulls up a chair in between them at the table the two boys are sat at and breathes. She reads his mind. “I’m not ready.”

“What?” Ferris asks. Cameron’s gaze turns to Sloane instantly. 

Sloane’s eyes find the floor in between her heels. Her eyes brim with hot tears. “I… I can’t. It’s too much. I’m sorry. It’s like everything is all tangled up and you know I trust you two more than anyone else in the entire world, but it’s all too much and even I can’t wrap my head around it. I’m so sorry.” She breaks. Her head falls into her hands and Sloane is sobbing. Ferris and Cameron say nothing. In mere moments their arms are around her, holding her as she shakes from the heft of her cries. 

When Sloane calms finally she peers out of hands gently and she can feel Ferris and Cameron still there. The warm, stable bodies of the only two people in the world she would try to make understand. It wouldn’t take a lot. It never does. But against all instinct, she keeps it in. She leans into their bodies instead, and she knows without them she would sink. They are her life raft. But things still aren’t normal yet and she doesn’t know how to force out those words. Not now, not here.

So finally, when they have no choice, Cameron and Ferris gather themselves and say goodbye. They offer their condolences to Sloane’s parents, first and foremost, who meet them with tearful thank you’s and genuine expressions of appreciation. They both warmly take turns embracing Mrs. Peterson and offering Mr. Peterson a firm handshake and a pat on the back. Despite how long they’ve been in Sloane’s life they’ve never been quite close to her parents, Cameron in particular, but they wish them all the best regardless; they know that they need it. Ferris hates that Sloane is left with them, while still being their much needed support system, he aches knowing that she will, inevitably, absorb some of their sadness, or crack while trying to be strong for them. He wishes harder.

And with all the energy it seems she has in her tender, sentimental body, she faces Cameron and Ferris once more. Her eyes linger on them with all the love she could ever hold. She takes each of her lovers and kisses him softly on the cheek, because fuck it, she couldn’t care less who saw or what they thought.

“Please, take care of yourself.” Cameron whispers in her ear as she pulls away from him. He doesn’t know how soon it will be until they will see her again, he prays it will be soon. Their touches on her icy skin burn like summer, and the feeling of their soft hands holding her as she presses a kiss into each of them lingers on her. Sloane swallows her tears and it takes everything in her not to run into their arms again and plead for them to never let go. Instead, she nods, her lips pressing together in a tight smile as her eyes fill like swimming pools. 

Sloane doesn’t come back to school. Somewhere along the way Ferris and Cameron learn she’s dropped out and moved back to Chicago full time. Despite their nagging wishes, they fight every urge they have to pack up Cam’s car and immediately drive to go see her. They still have tests to study for, papers to write, and jobs to clock in to. Instead, they phone the Peterson’s, assuming that understandably, she had moved back home to take care of her family. Each time, it’s either her mother or her father solemnly answering, saying that Sloane isn’t at home at the moment. The first time he calls, Cameron asks where she is and if she can return the call later, and Mrs. Peterson informs her that she’ll tell Sloane that he called. She doesn’t return their calls. Each time, Sloane’s hands nervously fiddle with the chord, and as she chews at her lip she can no longer handle the dial tone, and hangs up before she can hear the warm voice of either the lively or recorded voices of her boyfriends. She’s already let them down, and she doesn’t know how to build that back up again. She settles for small tidbits of letters in the mail, along with messages that somehow manage to reach them through a long chain of mutual friends that say she’s doing alright.

They can’t fully adjust to life without Sloane. Heartbreak eats away at them. Cameron and Ferris are basically joined at the hip nowadays, clinging to one another as though their lives depend on it. No one is surprised, not fully, as the two boys basically have functioned as a unit since the fifth grade, but it was also easy to see that without Sloane, they’re seen less frequently altogether. They sit in Cameron’s dorm and pretend. They talk and kiss—and stop watching romance movies. The artificiality mocks them, these cheesy things that used to make them laugh, the heartbreak that they found unfathomable once—complete with their silly quips of “kiss and make up!” or “you just need to talk it out!” while holding onto one another’s limbs as they threw popcorn at the screen, giggling—feels cold and real. It’s more than the absence of a body that fits in theirs like a puzzle piece, it’s Sloane. Even her name makes them ache sometimes, because without Sloane there’s a loss of her warm, angelic face, her heart that holds them in it like there’s always been room for the two of them, her soft, wide eyes that take in the world in her loveliest, kindest and determined way, and her presence, like gentle, steady and streaming sunshine. There’s so much of her that clings to everything, the radio that used to play the mixtapes she made for the both of them, her scent on their shirts (Cameron walks in on Ferris one day and catches him sheepishly cradling one of his shirts she loved to wear), the coffee maker in Cam’s dorm she and Ferris bought for him, she even lingers on them both. Sloane’s in how they talk to one another; after all, they’re the things she loved most of all. They can’t help but keep the traces of how she loved them, in how they hold each other’s gazes—the brown of Ferris’ eyes in the sun can almost be hers, when Cameron stands on his left side, arm draped across his shoulders Ferris can almost pretend Sloane is at his left—and the way they can’t take up the whole space of the bed. They cannot abandon what is hers. Ferris and Cameron talk about it, occasionally, with uncomfortable pauses, long sighs and deep swallows.

After a year passes, during a quiet morning when the two scruffy twenty year olds sleepily drink their coffees before class, Ferris leads with: “She isn’t coming back, is she.” A statement, not a question. Cameron’s eyebrows dart upwards. He’s been writing her letters this whole time. Calling her on the phone, keeping his eyes open wide and ears perked for just a hint of possibility that she hasn’t completely left. Like one day he’ll go to the library and turn a corner and she’ll be there. That maybe she’s sitting at home, on her bed, perched by the phone and waiting for it to ring—waiting for her hands to find the courage to pick it up. Cameron’s used to ultimatums, and has been since birth, basically. Familiar with harsh statements that are just as painful as they are true. Acceptance is the request: accept that love isn’t a promise and once you do you can feel better about when it leaves. But once Ferris and Sloane come into his life he cannot accept bargaining his life away, cannot accept that people that precious are allowed to not love him. It’s not even selfish to want her back because he knows that’s what Ferris wants, but he’s instead accepted the chances. Ferris clears his throat awkwardly. “Sloane.” He barely trips over it, pushes the syllable through his lips no problem. 

Cameron thinks to himself: Dimwit, I know who you’re talking about.

“I’m not gonna stop waiting for her.” Cameron says with conviction, pretending like it’s nothing as he focuses his attention on stirring creamer into his drink. 

“She hasn’t gone to war, Cameron,” Ferris snaps suddenly. He exhales out of his nose sharply and then breathes in again. “She’s gone. She left.” There is silence as Ferris makes the two of them process it. A timid laugh eventually breaks it. “We can make it, just the two of us. Huh?” He prods Cameron’s ribs with his elbow.

Cameron bats him away with annoyance. “You realize we’re talking about Sloane, right? The girl you were going to marry? Does that mean nothing to you? She goes home because her grandmother died and she takes care of her parents. Then she drops out of school, all with minimal to no communication with us, Fer. And you’re about ready to say ‘Ah, we don’t need her?’ and just fucking pretend? I’m sick of pretending. I want to know what’s going on, and the only reason I don’t hightail my ass back to Chicago to get her myself is because I’m not going without you. Sloane is the love of my life, Fer. And I know she’s yours.” Cam looks deeply at Ferris, who is frozen to the spot with accusation. “And you’re the love of my life too, okay. It’s all of us or nothing. I don’t care how long it fucking takes. I miss her. I miss us!” He grabs for Ferris’s hand. “I know that’s what you want, too, Fer. Don’t try and hide it for me, babe.” Cameron cracks a smile, pointing to himself. “Come on, me! Cameron? Don’t pretend. I know you.” He draws that last part out slowly, taking in Ferris’s smile that begins to form. For one of a few memorable moments, Ferris Bueller is speechless. Cameron presses a kiss into his cheek, and he can feel Ferris’s grin beneath his lips.

Before the two finish college, they receive a response from Sloane. It is the biggest sigh of relief when they find a letter in her sprawling, rushed handwriting addressed to the two of them. Inside the envelope it’s obviously quickly scrawled, which detailed that she was doing okay, but rarely had time to reply, due to her caretaking duties and job, to any of their phone calls. They can almost read it in her voice, and both of them hover over the paper as though it were an announcement that they had won the lottery. By the end she wishes them a happy (nearly!) graduation and how she hopes to be there and just how proud she is of them. It’s been ages since she’s reached out this much, and they unconsciously hold their breath as they read her words again, again, and again.

Yet graduation comes and as Ferris and Cameron scan the crowd hopefully Sloane is nowhere to be found. Cameron tries to keep things lighthearted—after all, they’ve graduated! (why is it so easy to hear that in Sloane’s voice as a reminder?)—and that it’s very well possible her parents have adopted health issues which require even more of her attention, so there’s no reason to be worried or upset that it was because she didn’t care. But with every breath they take they know that this day was equally supposed to be shared by their girlfriend, who worked even harder than they did on a daily basis just to catch up to their grade level so that they could share this moment together. And she couldn’t be there.

So Ferris and Cameron have no choice but to go on about their lives again, which includes getting used to functioning as a two person unit again. They rent a small apartment in the city and Ferris takes the full time shift at the art gallery, while Cameron picks up a job at the local library cataloging and shelving books. Ferris loves the atmosphere for Cameron, in fact he’s recently started shedding the need to wear contacts consistently and even bought a pair of oversized glasses that he wears to work. The art gallery works perfect for Ferris, he guides tours of students and other visitors, which is surprisingly less boring than he first thought it would be. Of course, cursing their sentimental brains for thinking of it, they secretly contemplate what Sloane could be doing if she’d finished with her journalism degree. The two don’t stop writing her letters or leaving voicemails. She’s just now quiet background noise which was once a lively conversation.

So when the two receive invitations from their high school regarding the upcoming five year reunion for the class of 1986, they feel a weird sense of indecision. For once, in the strangest way, since time has passed so long without Sloane and their lives at eighteen, it’s hard to see what high school reminiscing has left to offer them. Cameron takes the pitch that it would be fun for Ferris, maybe, to take a taste of being adored again. By a whole room, everyone would be infatuated with whatever adventures he had been up to. He chuckles, claiming that he’s not missing anything by just being adored how he is now, and that he’s afraid that he’d disappoint (things weren’t very captivating these days). Besides, despite going into college, Ferris’ notoriety didn’t escape him fully. After all, that’s what makes Ferris Bueller, well, Ferris Bueller.

But they show, and the boyfriends make a plan amongst themselves to entertain them throughout the night. Not that Ferris needs supplemental activities—Cameron bets the senior class of 86’ hasn’t ever had enough of Ferris Bueller, and he knows that spark isn’t completely gone from the charming character Cam knows so well. But Cameron’s going to keep himself busy, and without Sloane by his side that means alternating between alcoholic beverages and water each time someone makes an encouraging reply or inquiry. “What about you, Ferris?”, “How about another story from Bueller, huh?” and the like. It’s less fun to get drunk just sitting alone, so he's ready to mainly hydrate while laughing at his boyfriend’s antics. Cam doesn’t mind it, honestly. He's never had a problem living outside of Ferris’ popularity bubble, the only attention that really matters to him is that of Ferris’ and Sloane’s, anyway. He’s perfectly content feeling invisible to the crowds Ferris inevitably attracts, since out of all the attention he attracts, Cameron’s own is the one that means the most.

So they discuss that Cameron has no problems sitting on the sidelines, aside from being his ‘arm candy’ when they walk in, and unless Ferris ever flashes him a desperate expression to have someone genuine to talk to. They laugh about it, since upon Ferris’ arrival there is no way he can avoid such proddings, (and honestly, would he want to?) and of course Cameron is cool as ice about it all, since the best parts of high school were inevitably spent with Ferris and Sloane outside of school anyway. But they agree that perhaps it’s time for Ferris to get that uncanny energy of showing up for an eager audience, it’s one of the things he does best.

Cameron settles contently, solidifying his position on the bleachers—oh, just like old times, away from the main event —with a glass of water and a drink in his hands. He is a complete eager audience for Ferris handling his eager audiences, and he chuckles to himself as he fades easily into the background, avoiding potential prodding of questions from people who didn’t give him a second look when they were in school together, now because he was seen with Ferris.

As the night continues and Ferris makes his way over to Cameron—with eager listeners trailing at his heels—the two lock eyes and acknowledge, well, more like Cameron acknowledges, that he’d enjoy a breath of fresh, unaccompanied air. Cameron used this time of observance of Ferris to have some time to think uninterrupted while being simultaneously entertained. But eventually things get a bit boring and Cameron longs for conversation to break from his thoughts.

“Ferris...” Cameron begins, watching Ferris in his most amicable manner break from a conversation, politely excusing himself with a sincere smile.

“I’ll talk to you soon, man.”

Ferris turns to Cam, who playfully rolls his eyes. That’s my boyfriend, for g-d’s sake.

He slings an arm over Cameron’s shoulders as they quietly break from the chatter inside the gymnasium, at points relying on the darkness along the walls to sneak away from innocent but incessant questions and prodding towards Ferris. They finally escape into the hallway, nearly breathless and laughing to themselves. “Fer, you have got to stop making people fall in love with you.” Cameron grins, lovingly shaking his head as Ferris removes his arm from his shoulders. They feel eighteen again, for just a moment; their bodies mimicking their younger selves, full of love and adrenaline waiting in the car garage for Cameron’s father’s Ferrari. It feels like a lifetime ago. 

Ferris sighs, as though exhaling out the bittersweetness, reminded of the absence of Sloane’s body that stood so naturally between them. They walk along the hallways that didn’t feel like much to them then, but now signify the naivety and lack of breathing room they didn’t realize they had. The walls of high school don’t feel like much anymore, but they house the memory of their heartbeats, rushed pulses and lips that begged to spill the secrets they were hiding equally from one another and from themselves. Stolen glances and how suffocating other people’s expectations can be. They don’t realize that until they leave, though. Instead, it’s somehow the nostalgic ideal, it was everything—the love they shared when they didn’t realize it yet, when the world was small. Now the world is more wide open, the problems they were deathly afraid of became things they worked through together. But they miss when their love wasn't quite there, but Sloane was still solid. Despite fears of leaving her next year which were ultimately solved, Sloane was a constant, along with every adventure, having no cares while spending time with the two people she cared about most.

The two boys, at 23 years old now, contemplate this in their familiar, comfortable silence. They walk just a bit too close together, pausing in their reflections once they both realize the other has tears brimming in his eyes. Cameron cracks a smile. He recognizes their shared sentimentality and they lean against the walls of the school that feels like only theirs. They gaze at one another: all that their bodies allow them to do is talk in hushed voices, barely able to express the realizations they’ve made in fear of them becoming true.

Until Ferris, opposite Cameron, looks past his shoulder and breaks the silence in the most Ferris Bueller way possible. 

“Cameron. Cameron!” He places his hands on Cameron’s shoulders solidly, instinctively almost slapping him at first just to get his attention to move towards his line of sight. Cameron’s brows furrow, nearly laughing in surprise of his sudden, forceful touch. He turns slowly, squinting to see what Ferris has very evidently noticed.

“Christ, Fer, what the…” Once his eyes follow Ferris’s own his heart instinctively falls three stories into the pit of his stomach. In the lobby which connects to the hallway they see a lovely figure of a young woman, elegantly clad in a pencil skirt and blazer combination; her long brown hair falling neatly in the middle of her back. Even from far away there’s no need for confirmation, their bodies shared instantaneous reactions are proof enough. It’s her. Sloane. Cameron is paralyzed with indecision, while his heart races as though it were its primary function. Ferris is seconds away from abandoning all formalities and getting as close to her as quickly as physically possible, but she notices them first. A quick glint of her eye is all it takes. So they move closer, as though they are approaching a sleeping dog, even though she is walking towards them with the same carefulness. 

Sloane knows that if she keeps their gazes she will break, but tears are already falling on her cheeks, an inevitable smile also already creeping onto her face. She quickens her pace suddenly and before her lovers can realize it she is right in front of them again. Whole. Here. Real. It’s been years since they’ve seen her in person, it feels impossible. Sloane begins, her voice already shaking. “I am so, so sorry.” A few quick breaths unsteadily exit her mouth. She can’t look at them directly. Cameron and Ferris remain silent, equally shocked and patient. “It took a lot to get in here, and I know that’s not the first thing I should be telling you but I wanted to be here sooner.” As she exhales deeply, trying to regain composure her eyes turn upward to look at the two people she loves most in the world, the two people she abandoned. She reaches out to touch them, her unsteady hands finding the soft, warm faces of Cameron and Ferris. “G-d, you look so different.” She smiles as she traces Cameron’s face, now 23, as though he has matured tremendously within the past three. Like he became the more full, whole version of himself, finally sure of who that was. He can’t help but lean into her touch, while hot tears too compliment the features she caresses. “You’re not eighteen anymore, Cam.” She says, beaming, but there is a deep sadness in her voice. She knows she has missed so much of what went into becoming 23 year old Cameron. She looks into Ferris’s loving gaze, his brown eyes full of adoration, but also holding strength in them unlike anything she's ever seen. And she knows she’s seen Ferris be strong before. He’s holding back something.

“What did we—?” He can’t bear to finish his sentence, and even when Ferris knows that there was no way any of them intentionally caused any of this hurt, he can’t help but blame himself now, because he was so quick to believe that she had moved on.

“Nothing. Nothing.” She breaks, sobbing as she takes turns holding each of their faces in her hands. Ferris puts his hands on her own to support her. “I was so terrified… I was so scared that my parents would collapse if I wasn’t there. I got a job to support myself outside of school… but I couldn’t stop worrying when I wasn’t with them. I couldn’t do anything. Eventually I couldn’t even work,” She takes in a deep breath. “I couldn't focus on anything unless it was when I took care of them. I had no choice… I couldn’t go to school… they suffered without me. It got better once they started seeing psychiatrists. Mom started taking medication—but it made her worse for a while before she got better. I don't have any family left. No one that could do the job like I did. It got easier slowly, and by the time I—” She continues to sob again. “By the time I thought it was okay to leave them alone again,” Her voice warps with sadness. “I knew I had left you for too long. I abandoned you! I couldn't handle it myself but I didn’t even let you know what was going on. I’m so sorry… I barely even said a word! It was too late, I couldn’t face you, coming back like this without an explanation of why I left. You deserved better than what I gave you, and I was absolutely terrified that you would realize how selfish I was being, and that you wouldn’t take me back. I didn't want to face how much I’d hurt you… so I left you alone instead.” She shakes her head, biting back continual sobs. “Which isn’t the right thing to do, obviously. I was so scared that I ended up taking it out on you both. Gd, I’m so sorry.” 

Ferris and Cameron stand in silence, but look at her sympathetically, offering their hands, shoulders, anything to support her physically in this moment. She finally buries her head into Ferris’ shirt, and he calmly begins to stroke her hair. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He and Cameron exchange knowing glances amongst themselves. They can’t pin this against her. Not in a million years. It hurt them immensely—painfully wondering when they’d see her again, or if she was in any trouble or if things had gotten worse. Of course, the thought of her getting over them or not wanting to see them again flickered through their minds, but they knew it was impossible that she had forgotten them. Yes, her support system—the two of them—could’ve been there for her in her most vulnerable points, but that would’ve included making some other sacrifices too. They know that Sloane loves them, and while she may have made a mistake, it was ultimately out of love and understanding of what Ferris and Cam might be feeling, and an understandable fear of heartbreak. They can work out the hurt they feel. That’s for certain, along with the fact that there is no way on Earth that they can’t forgive Sloane. Having her in front of them, her touching them, after years of trying to operate without her, is worth absolutely everything.

“I missed you so much.” Ferris plants a kiss on the top of her head. She looks up at him finally, after his words have soothed her enough to calm her properly. She turns back to Cameron, standing perfectly in between them, the way she fits so naturally.

“I missed you too. Gd, so much. I thought of you every day. I couldn’t stop thinking that you were still thinking of us. I knew Fer felt the same too, he just wanted to suppress how much he missed you.” He turns to Ferris lovingly and squeezes his hand, looking into his eyes for a moment. “It hurt to not have you here.” He sees Ferris tearing up, who’s overwhelmed by finally being able to let go of the fear and denial he’s kept inside for so long. He’s crying now, and it takes everything he has for Cameron not to join him in his sobs.

Sloane looks between the two of them. “I’ve loved you every day since I left. I never stopped. I promise. Please, take me back. I will make it up to you. I need you two more than anyone else in the entire world.” She looks deep into Ferris’s watery doe eyes that are pleading deep into hers, that it wouldn't happen again. She cups his face lovingly and he nods fiercely. His flame hasn’t burnt out yet, in fact, it’s only strengthened by the solidity of their relationship being complete again, with all three of them. He begins to kiss her face all over—forehead, eyebrows, cheeks, nose, mouth—with the utmost tender passion he thinks he’s ever bestowed on her. In a moment of surprised joy, she laughs. “Gd, Fer.” She smiles, and while there are still tears that grace her cheeks, she’s starting to fill finally with a sense of calm and happiness that hasn’t been felt in so long. He lingers on her mouth, kissing her properly and relishing how she feels on his skin again. She fits on him perfectly, and he knows they couldn’t forget just how easily this works, not in a million years. She kisses back, delightedly, breaking only to tell him something not muffled in between kisses. “I love you.” 

An instantaneous reply. “I love you too,” A perfect, lovestruck Ferris grin on his lips. 

She turns to Cameron, who’s wearing a lopsided smile. “You don’t even need to ask.” She gets on her tiptoes and kisses Cam as well, because years away from the loves of your life means you cannot waste opportunities to show how much you’ve missed them. She takes in all of how he feels, easily placing her hands—one on his neck and the other on his cheek—as though the last time they kissed was yesterday. They all feel like the luckiest people on Earth to be back together again, to fit just how they should. They show through their patient urgency of each kiss that they’ll never take this for granted. Of course, life isn’t suddenly perfect, their relationship is still more than taboo, but it has never been about what people think. They break from their embrace—Cameron is two seconds away from mumbling ‘I love you’ into her lips—and Cam and Ferris put their arms around Sloane’s shoulders. They stand together as a unit, taking in the sensation that things are now alright, and will only get better.

“Can we get out of here?” Sloane asks timidly, but can’t help but laugh as soon as she sees how Ferris’ eyes light up.

“I’m not keeping anyone waiting.” He jokes, only strengthening his hold on the two of them.