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baby-grayson · 4 years ago

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Sweet Engima

Words: 5.3k Tags: @wheezeatmedolans @styles-dolan @prettyboydolan @evergreendolan @baby-turtles @dolanstacoma @kombuchagray @not-gbd @graysavant @someonetogray @dolansficsandpics @batgirl009 @voguekristens @letsgoget-high @crossedbone-kat @graysonsdollface

tw: hospitals, injuries, anxiety, police, mental health, bullying, alike topics

“It’s been paid for,” the airport garage attendant said, “By a Mr. Dolan.” Kate stood in front of a plump man, wearing the frizzy hair and red eyes that come with a cross country flight. “Oh,” she stuttered, “So I can just go—go to my car?” When the man nodded, Kate picked up her backpacks from the floor of the airport garage and walked aimlessly, trying to find a clue in her memory as to where she and Grayson had left her car.

Being back in California felt surreal. When she made it to her car, throwing her bags in the trunk and sitting in the driver’s seat. She took, what felt like, her first breath in weeks. She looked to the passenger’s side, seeing the image of the 200-lb heartthrob that once sat next to her. She felt older: aged by the stress, inconsistency, and weight of what she would claim was the past few weeks, but deep down she knew it was the gravity of the past year.

Arriving at the apartment, she felt half asleep as she slugged herself up the steps and to her front door. She stopped, staring at her front door. It was ajar and not locked. She asked herself if she forgot to lock it but then remembered that it was actually Wesley who was last here. She rolled her eyes and made a mental note to give him his stuff back when she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob and pushed it open.

She stood in the door frame, wide eyed and dry mouthed.

It was a wreck.

Her entire place was a wreck.

Her Ikea couches had been shredded, bits of cushion and fluff spilling out onto her rug that also wore broken shards of her coffee table. Her wall of pictures was covered in shreds, while confetti ,made from the faces of her loved ones, decorated the floor. Her kitchen cabinets were open, spilling over with things. Her house plants had been broken and dirt stained the floor of her apartment. She froze, not knowing how to move. She slumped one backpack down, hearing it hit the floor. She licked her top lip, trying to wet her heavy mouth. Her bottom jaw clattered as she took a step forward, her eyes still struggling to fully draw in the details of the moment.

She stepped over the threshold and noticed them. A thousand little notes written on posts its, receipts, the edges of notebook paper, newspapers, and napkins. She saw the first one and drew back. She swung her head around and read a second, hissing in a breath. Her breath turned shaky as her eyes darted between them: not feeling safe in her own home.

Slut.

Whore.

Homewrecker.

Fat Hoe.

Big nosed side hoe.

Clout Chaser.

He was Sherry’s.

He was going to be married.

Snake.

Cripple.

She took a step, nearly falling over on a large piece of a broken shoe stand. In a swift motion, she lunged herself over the threshold and slammed the door behind her. She fell against the wall next to her door. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and debated who to call first: Grayson or the police.

Grayson got there a few minutes after the first officer. When he parked his Tesla, Kate was slumped against the front door to her building looking up at the officer with a note pad, her back packs were thrown against the asphalt. Her eyes were puffy and red as she wiped a hand across her face and up through her hair. Grayson remained seated in the car, feeling helpless until another cop car pulled up. He waited until the officer by Kate walked away to greet the other car before climbing out of the Tesla and heading over to her.

She held her hands on her elbows while she leaned against the door, shaking slightly. She looked up at him through heavy lashes. Her words got stuck when they caught in her throat. She was ripped at every edge, scared small and quivering, but she was a masterpiece, her golden flecks shining in a thin layer of wet with her lips red from biting them and her petite frame accentuated in her slump.

Grayson lost all words. He wrapped both arms around her in a warm, snug embrace. He brought her head into his shoulder and gently placed a loving hand on the back of her hair. He felt a few tears soak into the sleeve of his shirt. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled, “bunny…”

When Kate looked up from her place on his shoulder, Grayson’s face was turned down. He had no words to give her, no advice to share, and no action to take. Instead, he settled on pulling her tighter and not leaving her side for the next two hours: while police officers came and went, taking shards of pots, broken plates, and notes away in sealable bags.

While she retold her story again and again and stuttered through the list of people who might do such a thing, all of which fueled by the latest development of Grayson in her life, Grayson never left her side. He held her close in their private moments, as if cuddling her head into his chest would protect her beautiful mind from the toxic chaos of the moment; when he couldn’t manage that, he reached down and took her delicate hand in his large one, squeezing it occasionally. Was it so she could feel his presence, or he could feel hers? He felt like crying, his eyes ached with soreness from holding back tears of anger. He shook, physically tremoring with the knowledge that he might have influenced someone to do such a wretched thing to his angel: one of the only good things about his life.

Grayson’s psyche was scarred with the paranoia of his stalker episode a few years prior: not even the skillful approach of an expert therapist could not permanently remove the edge he felt when it came to the public. Sometimes at night, he would lay awake and replay that night: being in the backyard with Ethan and Cameron. Ethan’s face dropping at the sight of a body in their kitchen, a body that wasn’t Ryan or Kristina or Kyle; Cameron’s assertive resolve as she marched out of the pool and nearly broke the sliding door when she stomped into the kitchen; the echo of her voice as she demanded people; the image of Ethan calling the police next to him.

Some memories aren’t memories: their primordial haunts that only exist to remind us that we are human.

But Kate was more than a human to him. To Grayson, Kate was angelic, representing something happy and right in his ever so mixed up world. He dreamed of the day he could take her away from this place: not just that scene, but all the worst parts of his life, and make a life with her. Grayson had longed believed there was someone, or something, watching out for him, he was far too stupid to have made it this far on luck, and he was convinced, feeling it deep in his bones, that celestial being handpicked Kate to remind Grayson of the best things in life.

When Kate looked up at him from her place in his chest, while the last of the squad cars rolled away, her voice choked on her words “What am I supposed to do?”

Grayson’s bones shook. His brain felt so saturated with dark clouds, it pressed against his skull and panged in his head. His heart wanted to rip through his chest, searching for air in a breathless fog. He gritted his jaw, on the verge of his own breakdown he tightened his arms around her, causing her lips to curl from where he pressed her against his chest.

Thank God his Tesla could drive itself: Grayson could barely keep his foot on the gas pedal as his body shook. Despite his best efforts, tears started to roll down his face. Kate pulled her sweatshirt around her body, comforted by the warm feeling of being engulfed in something.

Kate silently made a quick run to the shower when the Tesla parked at Grayson’s house. She made quick work of tearing off her clothes, turning on the jets, and sitting on his bench as the water rolled off her skin: praying that the water could wash her inside of the memories of that afternoon.

Grayson’s face was red and puffy. His knuckles were white as he grabbed a bottle of water from the counter. He held it above his head and chugged, droplets spilling off the corners of his mouth. He crushed it in his fist and forcibly threw it into the trashcan. A concerned Ethan tentatively stepped out of his room and lingered in the kitchen doorway. Grayson hadn’t told him he left; Ethan only noticed Gray’s Tesla gone from the driveway. If it wasn’t for the thud of the water bottle in the trashcan, Ethan wouldn’t have known Grayson was home.

“What’s going on?” Ethan’s voice was shaky as his looked down at his brother’s feet and then back up. Grayson reminded Ethan of the last time he saw his favorite childhood teddy bear. The teddy bear was covered in stains of dirt, food, and bodily fluids from traveling everywhere with Ethan. Besides Gray, that teddy was a young Ethan’s best friend. The last time Ethan saw teddy was when their father carried its remains into a shoebox after accidentally running over it in the driveway, where Ethan had left it one afternoon when it started raining. The teddy that was once shiny, cuddly, and soft was crushed to the point of bare threads, overflowing stuffing, and rocks embedded in its surface: that was what Grayson looked like to Ethan in that moment.

Grayson nearly tore the refrigerator door off of its hinges, searching for something to pile into his mouth, “Someone got into her place,” he went to open a drawer but instead took it off of its tracks. He grunted, nearly growling at the plastic bin and trying to shove it back into its place in the fridge, “They broke—they ransacked the fucking place Ethan—not even her house—notes” He slammed the door shut and put his hands on his hips, his bottom lip curled into his mouth as he stared at the refrigerator drawer that was passively sitting on the kitchen counter. His eyes stalked up to meet Ethan’s, “You want to know what they were fucking saying about her?”

Ethan didn’t need to ask who the “her” was in the situation. He put a familiar hand on Grayson’s back, feeling his relax every so slightly at his touch. Ethan sucked in a breath and played with his mouth. Grayson sighed, putting his hands on the counter and bending forward for support. “We’re gonna get through this man,” Ethan mumbled, “like we always do.”

“I don’t know how man,” Grayson raised his thumbs from where they held the edge of the counter, “You weren’t there—you didn’t see—”

“Gray,” Ethan’s tone was paternal, “there is no other choice, this is gonna work out. But it’s not gonna work itself out by you standing here and assaulting our kitchen.”

Grayson stood up, pushing Ethan back as he let go of the counter, “What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

“Go to her,” Ethan raised his voice slightly, he gestured an arm outward in the direction of Grayson’s bedroom, “Be there for her.”

Grayson stalked into his bedroom and sat on the edge of his bed. He heard the drum of the shower hitting the tile in his bathroom, deciding now was not the time to replay their rendezvous from a few weeks ago. He fell back, his comforter fluffing up around his head. His spine decompressed but his soul remained tense.

He picked his head up when the door to his bathroom opened to reveal Kate’s figure surrounded in a ginormous fluffy towel, as some steam filtered in behind her. Grayson sat up as she moved to sit on his lap, adjusting her towel around her. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he brought her closer to him. She thumbed his shoulder, her hair dripping water in his lap.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice was low and heavy with regret.

She didn’t meet his eyes. “You didn’t do anything Grayson.” “Yes, I did,” he sighed, “I did so much.” He winced, as if he was in pain, “I should have never—I should have never done it like this.” He bit his lip, “If I was unhappy—I should’ve—I should’ve—dealt with my relationship first and found you second. I fucked it up. I fucked it all up and now I—” “Shh,” she was calm, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Yeah,” she talked with her lips millimeters away from his skin, “You could have done a lot better. But there’s no changing the past, only doing better tomorrow.”

She pulled back, meeting his eyes now, “And Grayson—don’t apologize for—that, back there. That wasn’t you, you didn’t—you didn’t do that.” Her fingers interlocked with his, she squeezed his hand, “Once upon a time, you gave me this big apology about how you didn’t handle bringing me into your life correctly. Well-“ she sighed, “I wasn’t perfect back then either.” She flicked her teeth against her bottom lip, “I had a problem—separating you from, from your fans. But I get it now, at least I think I get it better, what I’m trying to say is,” she took a breath, “You didn’t do that to my apartment, you didn’t cause that. If someone was—if someone was that unstable and that irrational—they would have done that, whether to me, or to someone else. Am I explaining myself right here? I just—You didn’t do that to me, but you can—you can help me heal from it.” For nearly the hundredth time that afternoon, she pressed her head to his shoulder, her hair soaked a circle into his shirt.

Grayson took in a deep breath, trying to let Kate’s words absolve his guilt but feeling worse when no internal resolution came. “I just—” he wanted to say he loved her, he wanted desperately to say he loved her but everything about the moment betrayed him, “I—I want you back in my life, you are back in my life, and I want to do everything I can to keep you safe, to see you happy.” Kate lifted her head from his shoulder to meet his eyes. He found serenity in her features, in seeing those big brown eyes look up at him. Grayson thumbed her skin, feeling it soft and supple under his torn-up thumb. Her words penetrated his heart, “You do make me happy.”

Grayson’s features melted into a sad image of relief, “I do? Do I really?” His lion heart gave way to a series of insecurities and inner turmoil.

Kate nodded softly, she squeezed his hand and brought it up, between their chests, “You do make me happy. And I want to—I want you to keep making me happy. I want this,” she squeezed his hand again, “To be normal. I want us to—to---to---to go on dates and to watch movies and to—to be normal. Because I think that you and I can be something, something real. But you can’t expect this to be perfect until its balanced.” “Balanced,” Grayson repeated the word: one of the only things’ money couldn’t buy him. He sighed. “Yeah, balance,” Kate kissed his cheek, “It’ll come with time, once our lives get settled,” she squeezed his hand, “once we get settled together.”

“Are you saying that you’re giving me a chance? Because I swear, if you are,” Grayson’s eyes turned down at the corners, “I won’t screw it up, I promise. You’re too good for me as it is, and if normal is what you want, normal is what you get. I’ll give you the best normal that anyone ever knew. I want you to be happy, I want to give you everything I absolutely can because after everything I’ve brought into your life, I feel like I’ll never stop saying I’m sorry.” He bit his tongue from exposing his feelings once again.

Kate shook her head, “Don’t ever say you’re sorry. At least, not to me for what you did.” She sighed and eyed the way he slouched and the wrinkled forming in the corners of his eyes, “If you didn’t do what you did,” she shrugged, “Maybe we never would have met again. So maybe we’re the silver lining in…everything.”

***

The night and next day floated by with Kate on the phone with the LA County Sheriff’s Department, her grandmother, and her boss and the twins running around in preparation for their bathbomb launch, despite the chatter on twitter than the launch was perfectly timed amid Grayson’s scandal. Grayson stopped at Monty’s to pick up burgers and shakes for Kate, driving home in the middle of the day for lunch. If it was anyone else, he would have been grossed out, but he thought the way she dipped her fries into her vanilla shake was adorable.

“How’s work going?” she licked the shake off the side of a fry before using a finger to push it in her mouth.

Grayson shrugged while chewing a bite of his vegan burger, “It’s hectic. Everything is ready for the sale, but last-minute details about the boat.” “The boat?” Kate sucked on her shake through a straw, her lips puckering around the edge of the tube. Grayson shifted his gaze away from her mouth and wiggled in his seat, “The launch party, remember I told you about how Kevin wanted to do a little celebration with us and the team? Some good promo but also a team dinner?” Kate shook her head, “You never told me about that.” She knitted her brow, “How long have you been working on that?” “Like six months, you sure I never told you?”

Kate shrugged, “Maybe we were too busy nearly committing bigamy.”

Grayson chortled so loud he spit out a piece of his vegan burger, he coughed and brought a napkin to his mouth. He wagged a finger in her direction, “That was—that was funny.” Kate responded with a proud smile.

Grayson used a napkin to wipe food from his chest, “Well I put you on the guest list, kinda assumed you’d be my plus one,” he took a sip, “You know, my little arm candy.” His wink elicited a giggle from Kate.

“Me? A party?” She placed the sandwich down on the counter. “I’m a socially awkward little nerd.”

“You’re my socially awkward little nerd.” Grayson leaned over to place a kiss on her cheek, smiling onto her skin.

Kate shook her head, “What am I supposed to wear?” Her tone was slightly incredulous: parties, truly, were never her scene. Something about large groups of people intimidated her, there was something so anonymous and nothing intimate about large gatherings. Grayson swallowed a bite of sandwich, “Something pretty, whatever you have is fine I’m sure.” He washed it down with more shake, “You’re always beautiful anyway,” he leaned across to kiss her cheek again. “Hey,” her tone held warning, “You’re not allowed to do that all the time,” she held out a finger and Grayson gave her a cheeky grin. “Besides,” she continued, “I don’t have anything to wear. Grayson, I’ve been living off the same three pairs of pants and two sweatshirts since we left for Jersey.”

“I can have something delivered, “Grayson wiped his face with a napkin, “I’ll order something.”

Parties made Kate uncomfortable. She was further reminded by this fact when made it to the boat in the LA harbor. Grayson’s assistant had driven her because the twins were bouncing across sides of the boat, trying to get everything ready to set sail. She smoothed out the edges of her black dress, that clung a little tighter than she would like—probably chosen purposely on Grayson’s part—and tentatively walked into the main room.

Everyone was in heels, even some of the men. Big heels. Chunky heels. Tall heels. Wide heels. Kate sighed and brought her toes together in her ballet flats. Her condition made walking in flats hard. To her, heels were an obtainable elegance. A signal that she was not physically built for the world she was about to enter with Grayson.

She found a chair at the side of the room and sat quietly, eyeing different faces she didn’t recognize. Something paranoid buzzed inside of her, when she began to wonder if the polite chatter people were whispering around her was about her and Grayson. She swallowed hard and sat back in her seat.

The boat lurched as it left the harbor, bobbing everyone with it. A catering team put out finger foods as the night was ready to begin. Kate stayed in her seat, searching faces in the archways for signs of Grayson.

On the other end of the boat, Ethan was turning a corner as they set sail. He rocked, “woah,” and held out a hand to steady himself. “I’m so sorry,” he looked up at the person his hand landed on, “Sherry?” Ethan’s mouth hung open. In front of him was none other than Sherry Maddox: dressed in a form fitting teal number with shiny, dangling earrings, and strappy blue shoes. Her blonde hair wore a perfect, effortless blow out. He searched her up and down, as if she was going to phase into the ocean mist around him. “What are you doing here?”

“I was invited,” her words were sure. She blinked her eyes quickly, her fake lashes dancing like feathers. Ethan looked around, wondering if he was so stressed that he was seeing things. In the frenzy of the past few weeks, no one thought to disinvite Sherry from the night. Ethan stammered for words, “Oh”

Sherry gave him a sickeningly sweet smile, “Good to see you again Ethan.” As if on cue, Sherry stepped away from their exchange at the exact moment Ethan’s assistant called out to him to come to the main room. Ethan shuffled away, dizzied from what just happened.

He landed in a seat next to his brother, who sat next to Kate at their table. Kate went pale and dry to see Sherry slink against the back wall of the room. Until that moment, Sherry was nothing but a face in the tabloids to Kate. Seeing her in person, sent knots into her stomach and soul. Kate’s bottom jaw stammered as a chill went through her spine. “What’s wrong?” Grayson knitted his brow together when he saw the color leave her face. When Kate didn’t answer, he followed her gaze to the other side of the room and immediately shot out with, “What’s she doing there?” From next to him, Ethan piped up, “We never took her off the list.” His voice was grim, “Don’t worry about it Gray, she probably just wants to be photographed her peacock costume,” Kate chuckled at his last remark.

At exactly 9PM, Ethan stood up, taking to the front of the room to grab a microphone, “Hello? Is this on? Hello! I just wanted to thank everyone for coming, and for everything you do for our team. I couldn’t ask for better—” he continued his speech thanking his team. From across the room, his assistant snapped pictures of him at the microphone.

While Ethan talked, Grayson shifted in his seat, trying to find some level of comfort with Sherry in the room. He looked at Kate, “You look beautiful.” He placed his hand in her lap to hold her delicate fingers. She smiled up at him, “Thanks.” He leaned over to kiss the top of her head, “There is no one else I’d rather have next to me.” She smiled brightly under his lips. She moved to say something but was interrupted by Grayson standing up to switch places with Ethan at the microphone. As Ethan sat down, Kate leaned, “you think I can go,” she pointed to the back of the room, “back there to take some pictures of him.” Ethan gave her a sure nod.

Grayson started his remarks while Kate quickly floated to the back of the room to start snapping proud pictures of him. His voice filled the room, “And I think the choices we made to include in this launch are special, they mean something to all of us,” he listed their scents, “Compassion, Creativity, Energy, Family, and Love. Funny thing about Love, I designed it after someone who means so much to me, I wanted it to always remind me of the person who taught me what love is. Because before her, I met a lot of girls and I thought I was ready to be serious about them: but she taught me what it’s like to know someone belongs in your life and put the energy into making them the center of your life. Kathleen Walker, I don’t know what I would do with you.”

Tears welled up in Kate’s eyes, who had given up on taking blurry pictures and resolved on taking a video. As unperfect as Grayson and her were, there was something between them that only the lucky ones get to feel.

Grayson continued his speech, moving to thank every member of their team individually.

From Ethan’s seat, he looked for Kate in the crowd but couldn’t find her. An instinct ringing inside of him, he quietly stood up from his seat and sauntered to the back of the room.

At the edge of the boat, a loud foghorn sounded as the bow cut through ocean waves like butter. Kate struggled, screaming and questioning and crying out. But Sherry Maddox was white with anger. As if being publicly embarrassed by the love of her life wasn’t enough, she was forced to sit and listen to her ex-fiancé flaunt the fact that his “love” product was formulated in the image of another woman.

Kate didn’t feel Sherry push her.

She didn’t feel her feet leave the ground.

She screamed into the night until her scream was muffled by the splash of her body hitting the water.

Her black dress floated around her, blending her in the nighttime water. She was never a very strong swimmer: but what she could do was reduced to nearly nothing after the accident. Despite her best pushes, she could barely keep her head above water.

She was started to lose consciousness as she bobbed, a victim of the rough waves.

Ethan didn’t understand what he saw. He didn’t have time to process what he saw. He threw off his jacket and shoes and swan dived down into the water. With his pants and shirt soaked, he pulled Kate’s limp body toward him and, with the help of a deckhand, pulled himself back onto the boat.

As soon as the pair were back on a solid surface, the deckhand and Ethan’s assistant were surrounding them with towels and blankets. Their lips turned purple as they shivered, two wet trembling bodies in the night. On the other side of the deck, a radio rang out that the boat was returning to harbor for an emergency.

It was Grayson who insisted Kate be brought to the emergency room. He angrily rambled about her swallowing water or getting hypothermia. If it wasn’t for her exhaustion, she could have calmed him, but instead she laid as a limp body on a triage table with Grayson sitting in the corner of the room.

Kate was still wearing her soaking wet dress; her flats had been lost to the Pacific Ocean. Her hair had been messily pinned up by a borrowed clip from Grayson’s assistant. On the boat, Grayson gave her his suit jacket to help with the shivering. She gave blood, peed in a cup, and took a concussion test upon arriving at the hospital.

“Hi Miss Walker,” a peppy nurse stepped through the door, “I’m Tammy. I’m a nurse here.” She shot Kate a warm smile, “I’m just going to ask you a few questions and then check you out and hopefully we can send you right home.”

Kate nodded weakly in response, having met no less than four other Tammy’s that night.

Tammy perched on a stool with wheels and opened a folder. “Any chance you could be pregnant?”

“No.”

“Any family history of cancer?”

“Yes- my mother.”

“Any issues breathing-shortness of breath?”

“No.”

“Have you been out of the country recently?”

“No.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No.”

“Okay, I’m just going to take your blood pressure and then check your throat, just in case you swallowed any water, and you two should be good to go.”

Tammy was almost too happy to Velcro a blood pressure cuff around Kate’s arm and pump the balloon. Kate leaned against the wall and stared at Grayson, who had bags forming under his eyes. Neither of them said it, but they both longed for the warm, comfortable, familiar cuddle of Grayson’s bed.

“Say ahh,” Kate opened her mouth for Tammy to put her tongue compression in and shine a light in the back of her throat, “Good news, doesn’t seem to be any salt damage.” Tammy removed the compressor and went to write in her chart, “But I would still recommend some tea with honey, just in case you get uncomfortable.” Tammy closed the manilla folder, “Alright folks, I’ll check with the doctor on your other tests Ms. Walker but I think you should be good to go.” “We can leave?” Grayson didn’t mean to sound brusque or rude, but he was too tired, angry, and anxious to try and be polite.

“Let me check with Dr. Ocasio and I’ll be right back to let you know,” Tammy shot Grayson a customer-service smile before shutting the door behind them.

The fluorescent lights flickered as an LA siren sounded in the distance. Grayson’s heart broke to look at her like that: wet, sad, and hurt. Everything in him wanted to do something but found no action. He wondered if the best thing for Kate, was for him to leave her life—to leave her in peace. He shook that thought away, telling himself he was just tired, before closing his eyes and thinking about holding her in his bed later that night.

Before the thought could sweetly settle in his mind, Tammy popped her head in the door, “Oh-uh—Mr.Dolan, could you come with me for a moment? There is some—uh—paperwork, that you need to sign as her attendant.”

Grayson reluctantly stood up and followed Tammy, the first time he was leaving Kate’s side since running across the boat to be with her a few hours earlier.

Nearly seconds after Grayson departed, a wrinkly Hispanic man with salt and pepper hair gently opened the door to Kate’s triage room, “Miss Walker,” his voice was warm, comforting to her, “I’m Dr. Ocasio, pleased to meet you.” He shook her hand.

“Am I okay to go home doctor?” Under normal circumstances, Kate knew to not rush doctors, but the urgency of the night and the call of Grayson’s bed overwhelmed her. The doctor sat on the same stood Tammy took early. He nodded, “You are fine. You didn’t sustain any injuries from your little fall tonight.”

Kate stood up, “Thank you.” She stepped back when the doctor continued to talk. “However,” his elderly voice quivered, “I am afraid that your answers to some of our questions didn’t align with our test results for you.” Kate furrowed her brow, too exhausted and overwhelmed to try to put together any puzzle pieces.

“Miss Walker,” the doctor’s tone was light, as if addressing a child, “I feel obliged to tell you that—you’re pregnant.”

#grayson dolan #fanfic #ethan dolan #grayson dolan x oc #sweet enigma #kind stranger #smut #fluff #angst #long story #multi part fic #romance #youtuber #influencer #blurb #concept

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baby-grayson · 4 years ago

Text

Sweet Enigma|Part 9

Tag List: @wheezeatmedolans @styles-dolan @prettyboydolan @evergreendolan @baby-turtles @dolanstacoma @kombuchagray @not-gbd @graysavant @someonetogray @dolansficsandpics @batgirl009 @voguekristens @letsgoget-high @crossedbone-kat @thecoletomysprouse @graysonsbailey

tw: pregnancy and mental health discussions

Kate didn’t tell Grayson she was pregnant. At least, not that night. The emotional blows and exhaustive moments had knocked her around more than the tide had when she splashed into the ocean. She left the triage room and Dr.Ocasio as if she was leaving the trenches of a battle: moving, but feeling emptier on the inside (despite sharing her body with the fledgling traces of a new life). She was quiet as she slumped beside Grayson in the car ride back to his place. Tired and angry, he chattered on about paperwork and the nurse’s demeanor as a distraction from the searing hatred burning in his heart that was oxygenated by Sherry’s actions. Not yet ready to face that emotional storm, he settled on ranting about the hospital while Kate leaned her head against the windowsill and gently thumbed her hip, wearing a pensive look framed by dark eye bags and sullen skin.

She followed Grayson into his bedroom when they got home. He waved his hands madly in the air while he continued to rant. She dropped onto his bed, surrendering to the events of the night and instantly wanting to fall asleep and retreat the craziness that had become her life.

Grayson looked when she sighed audibly. He stopped ranting and laced his lips together, going dry at the mouth. “Hey,” he started softly as he went to sit next to her. He draped an arm around her shoulders and leaned over to place a gentle kiss on the side of her head, “I’m sorry...bunny” he mumbled the word with his lips pressed to her skin.

She tried to feign a smile but instead only lifted her mouth and let it fall again, as if it was weighted down by the tons of stress and trauma she wore from the past few weeks. She leaned into Grayson, letting her hair fall over his shoulder as she nuzzled into his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in, letting her fall into his form and feel the warmth emanating from his body. She closed her eyes against his skin, letting her body relax as she gently played with her fingers against him.

In that moment, Grayson smelled the salt of the ocean on her hair. He would have liked to say that the scent reminded me of the stresses of the night: her sweet, citrus scent overpowered by the storm they had weathered together. In all honesty, he recoiled slightly at the smell of fish and sweat. He kissed the top of her head and mumbled into her hair, “Go take a shower, I’ll get your pajamas out of your bag.”

Kate nodded softly before dragging herself up to a standing position and moving into his on-suite bathroom. She slid off Grayson’s jacket, folding it neatly and placing it on the bathroom counter. She let her dress drop to the floor, kicking it aside. She turned on Grayson’s shower and sat on the marble bench, letting the water fall on her from above. She leaned back and rested on the bench, trying her best not to think about anything.

She laid naked and wet: her body housing two lives but feeling dead inside.

Grayson unbuttoned his shirt while sulking out of his bedroom and into the living room, where Kate’s backpack was still slung over the couch from yesterday morning. He started to shimmy out of the shirt when he looked up and spotted Ethan at the kitchen island, sitting next to their assistant, Isla. Isla was a full-figured, curvy Latina who spoke in a pointed, but caring manner. Her namesake was forever imprinted as a tattoo sleeve on her right arm and by a signature blue streak of hair in the front of her face.

“Hey,” Grayson’s tone was low while he approached his brother.

“You’re welcome,” Ethan’s tone was flat and his eyes were too tired to fully commit to the joke.

Grayson looked from Ethan to Isla and back to Ethan, “For what?”

“For saving your--your” Ethan held a a hand in the direction of Grayson’s bedroom and waved it, trying to find a word to describe Gray and Kate’s relationship. “-amor” Isla finished his sentence with a delicate smirk.

Ethan snapped his fingers in her direction and nodded, “Thank you.”

Grayson rolled his eyes slightly, “How are you holding up?” He leaned over the counter next to Isla.

“Damp” Ethan replied emphatically.

Grayson let out a laugh that partially relieved him of the invisible weight on his shoulders. His laugh slowly quieted until the room was silent once more: Isla, Ethan, and Grayson sneaking awkward glances at each other. “I’m glad you’re okay,” Grayson said before sighing, “What are we even supposed to do about this?” He was speaking louder than he would have liked, ever the booming presence in a room.

“Well you could--” “You should--” Ethan and Isla spoke over each other.

“Sorry,” Isla whispered.

“No you go,” Ethan started.

Isla shook her head softly and fiddled with her phone in her hands.

“We need to do something about Sherry,” Ethan started, “I’ll call the legal team in the morning.”

Grayson nodded and locked his jaw, “Is that just another add on to what happened to Kate’s apartment?”

Ethan gave a defeated shrug “Dunno- but have they even tied that back to her?”

“Who else would it be?” Grayson didn’t hide his anger.

“You know Gray,” Ethan started, “There are a lot of people who don’t like her- Kate- right now.” He sighed and gave another surrendered shrug, “She didn’t exactly give the world the best impression.”

Grayson huffed, “I know” he stated. He wanted to add: and that’s my fault. He was torn up by the fact that so many people openly hated the woman who single handedly brought happiness back into his life. He was utterly confused, caught in a rabbit hole of doubt and anger: wondering if he would ever wake up from this nightmare and angry at himself for bringing only dark clouds to Kate, when she radiated in his eyes.

By the time Grayson got to bed that night, Kate was already laying there. She was draped in one of his old sweatshirts and resting on top of the covers. Grayson tried his best to slide into the covers and pull her near him while staying silent. Little did he know, she was very much awake. In the dark, she didn’t even try to close her eyes.

The low grumble of Grayson’s snores did not lull her to sleep. On the contrary, they amplified the anxious voices inside of her: crying out about her life, her baby, her family, Grayson, Sherry, boats, nighttime, splashes, treading water, and washing away. She broke out in a cold sweat, the events of the night echoing in her head.

If sleep washed a layer of relief on Grayson’s soul, waking up energized him to seek a vengeance for the day before. He looked at Kate, who’s eyelashes were fluttering against her cheekbones while her mouth sat in a frown. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and used a large arm to grapple her into his chest and start placing a series of soft kisses on her head. He didn’t check to see her frown fade, “G’morning beautiful”

“Morning Gray,” her voice sounded almost hoarse.

“You sound sleepy,” he nuzzled his face against her soft dark hair.

She shrugged, “I’m still tired.” She conveniently left out the part about not sleeping a week.

“Stay in bed while I take a shower,” Grayson smiled against her hair before placing a final kiss on the crown of her head.

It was only once she heard the patter of Grayson’s shower again the marble bathroom floor that she finally closed her eyes and relinquished her body to it’s exhausted state.

She slept until the late afternoon, waking up to a dry mouth and a disoriented mind. Grayson was long gone, running between meetings and phone calls while trying to quell the chaos of the night before.

She lifted herself from bed and trudged into the bathroom where she smoothed out her hair in the mirror. She looked at her own face: wondering if that girl was ready to be a mother. Wondering if that girl could be a mother.

The fear of being recognized in public was not enough to stop her from ordering an Uber to the nearest drug store, where she promptly bought a box of pregnancy tests to verify what the emergency room doctor had told her.

She tiptoed into the house, the plastic of the shopping bag peaking out of her purse while she swiftly moved into Grayson’s bathroom. She was somewhat thankful that Grayson was working late and wrapped up in the chaos of their lives.She turned the lock on the bathroom door, not wanting to risk being caught.

Any good scientist knows the key to valid data is reproducibility: an experiment is no good if it can only be done once. The general rule of thumb, was to preform trials in triplicate to prove validity. Ever the doting, committed scientist, Kate took six pregnancy tests that night.

She stood, staring at the counter and her six positive tests staring up at her. They were daunting. Almost fearsome. Staring at her like a small army ready to attack.

She cupped her face in her hands, deciding that it was real: that it was true.

She heard Grayson enter his bedroom before he knocked on the bathroom door, “You in there?”

“Yeah! Just a minute” She did the smartest thing she could think of and quickly slid all six tests into her purse, not knowing how and when she would dispose of them. She looked in the mirror again, wondering if she looked difference: if housing a child had already started its barrage of physical changes on her body. Could Grayson tell?

She hoped not.

Grayson was emptying his pockets on his nightstand and sitting on the edge of the bed when she creeped out of the bathroom, “Hey,” he started, not even looking up at her as he tossed his wallet near his lamp.

Even Kate’s anxious mind could see the physical signs of exhaustion on Grayson’s face: heavy lidded eyes, a low mouth, and distinct creases on his forehead. She sat next to him, “Hey,” she started quietly.

Grayson sighed before he looked at the floor as he spoke, “Talked to Joe and Rob about what happened--”

“Who are Joe and Rob?”

“Oh- uh manager and lawyer-”

“-right.” Kate gave a small nod. She bit the corner of her mouth and decided against asking anymore questions: lest she be faced with all of the details she didn’t know about Grayson’s life. Should she feel guilty for being pregnant by a man and not knowing the name of his manager? Internal, she shuddered and reflected on just how weird a place Hollywood was, to make her ask such a question.

If Grayson could sense her inner struggle, he didn’t show it. Instead, he droned on for a few minutes about assault, battery, nautical laws, and the California jurisdiction. Kate gave small nods and folded her lips whenever he would look up to get her reaction.

“It’s a lot,” Grayson leaned his upper body down against the bed. He wrapped his face in his hands and moved his fingers through his hair, “I feel like I just went to law school in a day- I- this is crazy.”

“It is,” Kate’s voice was small and her posture erect as she sat on the edge of the bed, her hands folded neatly in her lap.

She jumped at the feeling of two large arms folding around her and Grayson leaning his head against her shoulder, “I’m so sorry bunny,” his voice was low. “I-I-” he sighed again and squeezed her tiny frame, “I can’t imagine how you must be feeling.” He placed a gentle kiss on her temple. Kate’s posture didn’t falter.

Grayson cleared his throat before saying the next part, slowly and deliberately, “After the break in-- the one that happened before we met-- I was really freaked out. Didn’t sleep for nearly a month. I felt like my even my own mind wasn’t safe anymore. The point is, I went to a therapist a few times. Talked a lot out and I think it really helped me. And this isn’t me sending you to someone else, I’m here for you, wholly, with everything you need. But if you need more” he reached out to hold her hand in his, “I’m by your side always.”

Kate’s lips slipped into a smile for the first time all day, “Thank you Grayson.”

He squeezed her hand once more, “We’ll get through this together mama.”

She stiffened in his arms, “What?!”

“Sorry,” he let out a low chuckle. He rolled his eyes softly at an angle she couldn’t see, “bunny.” he corrected with a loving but mocking tone, “I should know better, I’ll get better I promise.”

Kate gave a small nod before falling back onto the bed.

The second night mimicked the first, with Grayson snoring like a lion on the prowl and Kate rolling around, trying to find a space that felt comfortable enough to lull her to sleep but failing to find it within herself. How could someone sleep when their soul was too busy operating on decisions that would change their lifetime?

She feigned sleep while Grayson slipped out in the morning. She closed her eyes while he bent down to kiss her cheek and whispered, “Sweet Dreams.” Before she head the sound of the door close behind him.

She felt guiltier, that second morning. Once the door creaked shut, she instantly remembered the sullen and long face Grayson gave when he came home the night before. She felt guilty that he was out, fighting her battles and trying to protect her, in a mess of paperwork and legal times, his least favorite things in the world, while she got to stay home and contemplate their love child.

She felt twisted about the fact that this thought made her happy. In a weird way, it proved Grayson’s committment to her, his dedication, and his faith to whatever they had. It calmed some of her nerves that he would be the future father of her child.

Her musings were interrupted by a slurry of emails from her advisor: asking where she was, if she was okay, what was happening. They made her head spin. She felt that the fabric of her mind was being invaded by the complex task of balancing her personal future with the future of her own career and well being. Surely, she hadn’t wanted a child. But now that one was in her sights, and literally in her, maybe it was somehow fated to be this way.

She shut her phone off entirely in an effort to delete the emails.

She threw on one of Grayson’s wakeheart t-shirts and a pair of sweat pants and pattered out into the kitchen for a meal. The hardwood felt cold against her toes. She picked a banana out of the fruit bowl and opened a cabinet, in search of peanut butter when she heard a thumping noise coming from the other side of the house.

She dropped her banana. It bounced against the floor. Her mouth went dry. She picked up a pan from the top of the stove and held it at an angle in front of her and she stalked forward. She slowly pushed open the door to Ethan’s room: unsettled by the fact that it was already ajar. She knitted her brow together, still hearing a beating sound coming from his bathroom. Against her better judgement, she opened the door a crack, motivated by the fear of an intruder, and peered through the space between the door and the door frame.

She jumped back and immediately closed the door. From her crevice, she could see Ethan firmly, strongly, and expertly pounding the plump ass of a girl from inside of her shower, where a strand of blue hair bounced around as she picked her head up to say his name.

Kate blushed and pressed her back against the wall of Ethan’s bedroom. Feeling embarrassed about the whole situation. She quietly tiptoed out of his room and brought the pan back to the kitchen while reflecting on the ordeal. She was paranoid, afraid of monsters in the closet and scenarios she was building in her head: not real fears, fears that her mind was making up to keep her from enjoying the life that was being laid out in front of her.

She turned on Grayson’s own shower and quickly rinsed off, hoping the water and his Wakeheart bodywash would help wash away the negativity from her psyche and the embarrassment from the last 20 minutes.

She wrapped herself in Grayson’s large, cotton bathrobe and sat cross legged on his bed. She pulled her laptop from her backpack and began writing to her advisor, requesting a meeting to explain the timeline for the rest of her doctoral program. She took a breath before pressing send.

Grayson came home that night looking like more of a wreck than the night before. He slumped himself on the bed and rested his head on her lap while Kate gently brushed his hair away from his face. “Long day?”

“Yeah,” Grayson mumbled and nuzzled his face into her midsection.

She sucked in her top lip and sat up straighter, “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, “No,” he sighed and opened his eyes to look at her, “It’ll all change tomorrow anyway.”

Kate didn’t want to ask what that meant.

He held her hand from where he leaned on her, “What about you? What did you do today?”

She swallowed hard, touching her tongue to the outside of her lips and exhaling before speaking. “Actually Grayson--” she took a deep breath mid-sentence, “There is something I wanted to tell you.”

He raised his eyebrows curiously while she wished she wondered how fast she could run across the room and pull out the half a dozen pregnancy tests from the night before. She looked him in the eye, ever the direct speaker, “I’m pregnant.”

When Grayson’s mouth gaped slightly she added, “It’s yours.”

Grayson shot up, lifting his head from her lap and sitting up straight, “You’re pregnant?” At first, his voice held nothing but pure shock but it faded quickly into something happy.

Kate nodded surely, not letting a smile hit her lips. This was a factual conversation.

Grayson had started to flash a grin but quickly lost it when he looked her in the eye to ask, “Do you want to keep it?”

She maintained composure, “I do.”

Grayson’s entire face lit up. In a swift move, he jumped from the bed and began pacing around the room in front of Kate, waving his arms joyously in the air and starting sentences without endings about family, his mother, Kate, this year, the baby, him being a father. Kate could barely keep up with him, so she giggled and smiled at him: appreciating every ounce of whimsical, loving energy that was Grayson Dolan.

He made a sharp turn on his heel, stopping his arms from waving, “Do you want to--” he licked his lips as his face quickly transformed from happiness to anxiety, “Do you want me to-to-to marrryyeee you?” Kate didn’t know what word got so many extra letters.

She shook her head, “I uh- I didn’t think about that but I don’t think it’s” she moved her eyes from side to side, “necessary?”

Grayson nodded, “Right.” He bit his bottom lip and looked at her with large, kind brown eyes. He stared straight into her big brown eyes and saw the same gold flecks he noticed that day on the beach. She was his girl, his soul knew it. “I could still, ask you to marry me?” If she was the say yes, he would have dropped to his knee in that moment and started an impromptu speech about everything she meant to him. If she were to say yes, he would have changed everything in his life to make her as comfortable as possible. She was everything he wanted in his life, and now she was caring for a child that was nothing but the proof that they were destined to be together.

But at the offer of a proposal, Kate shot up from the bed and took Grayson’s hands into hers. She took a deep breath, “No Grayson. I don’t want that.” She wanted to say that they weren’t even actually dating, but that would break Grayson’s heart at the moment it was most full: so she didn’t. Instead she opted for pulling body close to his, so he could get drunk on her sweet citrus scent and saying, “I don’t need a boyfriend, or a fiance, or a husband.” His eyes held onto something sad before she added, “What I need, is a partner,” she squeezed his hands, “I need you to be my partner Grayson.”

He squeezed her hands before giving her a slow, gentle kiss and letting his lips rest on hers warmly before pulling back, “You’ve got me bunny.” He placed another kiss on her forehead.

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