#good girl Abby

[chloesimaginationthings]

Do you think the Withereds will be in the FNAF 2 movie?

[mwahbabe]

slay but all i’m doing is imagining rockstar jinx/vi/chloe/abby/sevika x groupie!reader being pulled on stage like this aaaaaaaaaaaaaa

[blee-bleep]

i got haley to 8 hearts cuz i was in my renee rapp era and actually thought that i might marry her in my first run before i realized that wow. Fuck. Abigail is actaully kinda sorta hot.

so now i think im gonna give th GF bouqet to abby instead LMFAO

need some abby centric mods cuz i think im in love.

[glamrockmike]

abby!!!

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

22) A breakup - Zach & Townsend

6 years after the events of UWS, Zach goes running to Townsend after a fight with Cammie. (4,196)

———————————————————————

Vision blurred by anger and frustration and humiliation, Zach rapped his knuckles against the door of the modest Tudor house, fingers too shaken with adrenaline to use his keys. Chest tight and heart in his throat, he scuffed his feet against the slate step as he waited, still not quite believing he was here. He didn’t have to wait long before he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock, and then another key in another lock, a deadbolt being pulled open. As the door was pulled open a crack, the face he was greeted with was nearly his own. Skin slightly more tanned, face somewhat more woven by the lines of age, eyes a deep blue rather than his own dark brown, his father was not far off being a glimpse into the future for Zach. Though he wasn’t quite as tall nor as broad, didn’t quite have the same formal posture nor stoic mannerisms, the two men looked remarkably similar, sharing the same nose and jaw and cheekbones, the same solemn expression as they met one another’s gaze.

“Zach?”

“I- um- I need your help.”

Edward Townsend’s eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly in concern as he held the door further ajar for his son, gesturing for him to come in. He himself was basically barefoot, padding around the hardwood floors in just his dark socks, but Zach kept his loafers on, knowing that the other occupant of the house tended to walk around downstairs in her shoes and that it didn’t make a difference to the couple as long as he didn’t enter the carpeted sitting room. They walked through the entrance hall and into the kitchen where Zach took a seat at the island, watching as his father switched on an electric kettle and started preparing drinks. Tea for himself, coffee for Zach, the fancy kind made with expensive grounds and a French press because his father was nothing except consistently pretentious.

“I’m assuming this isn’t work related?” Back turned to him, his father gave a quick glance over his shoulder as he asked the question, tone stern. Zach fought the urge to roll his eyes. Him and Cammie had been subject to enough of the man’s lectures about bringing intelligence business home over the years, a fact they both found to be hypocritical given the amount of times Abby managed to bait him into a discussion about her most recent case without much protest from him.

“No.”

“But you’re okay, you’re not hurt or sick or anything?”

Zach swallowed hard past the lump in his throat, simultaneously touched and unnerved by the man’s concerned tone. “I’m fine.” He wasn’t okay, might never be okay again, but that wasn’t what his father meant. “Is- um- is Abby in?” As well as he got on with his father’s wife, as fond as he was of her, this conversation was probably safer had in the absence of Cammie’s aunt.

“She’s 41, 7 months pregnant with twins, and permanently exhausted. She’s always in these days.” A fond smile graced his face at the mention of her and the twins, only the bags under his eyes and the slight crease of his brow betraying his anxieties. Clapping a hand on Zach’s shoulder as he passed him a cup of coffee, made just the way he liked it, his father took the seat next to him and gave him his full attention. “She’s upstairs, hopefully getting some rest. Now what do you need help with?”

Unbidden, a heat started building behind Zach’s eyes.

He didn’t know why he was here. Why he came to Townsend when he had only been his father for 6 years while Joe had been in his life for as long as he could remember. Why he came to anyone at all when he was fairly sure he had fucked everything up, was fairly sure all the help in the world couldn’t save him now. Why he had said the things he said a couple days ago that put him in this position in the first place.

Trying to brace himself, he dug the sole of his foot into the corner of the bar stool he was perched upon, the pain it elicited distracting him from the pain in his chest. Swallowing hard again, he ground his teeth together and tensed his jaw, bunched up his shoulders and forced a breath of air into his lungs.

“I- I think Cammie and I broke up.”

His father just blinked at him.

“What do you mean you broke up?” There was no shock in his voice, no anger, only a gentle curiosity. Zach might’ve been mildly offended if he hadn’t known the man well enough to understand that he was prioritising facts over emotions right now. Besides, it was a nice reprieve for him. Suddenly, he found he was much more able to treat the conversation like an assignment debrief, cold facts spilling out of his mouth instead of the hysterical blubber he spewed at Grant earlier that morning.

“We had a big fight a couple days ago, Friday night, and we broke up”

“A moment ago you said you think you broke up, now you’re saying you did. Did you?”

“I told you, we had a big fight.”

“But did either of you use the word breakup? Or separated, or split up, or whatever terms you kids use these days?”

Huh.

Zach hadn’t thought about that.

He tried to think back to that night in their apartment, to her anger and his frustration and both of their tears. To the hurtful accusations she screamed at him and the admittedly cruel words he spat back in return. To storming out after she told him to, run away like we both know you’re so desperate to, and crashing on Grant’s sofa overnight. Maybe she hadn’t broken up with him explicitly, but surely she was going to, surely she should.

“Well, no.” Nodding like he had already solved the problem, his father leaned back in his stool, took a deep breath and a sip of his drink. He looked relieved. Zach hastily gave him some more context, needing to man to understand how dire the situation he found himself in was. “But it was a big fight, we’re not going to get past it. It’s over.”

A hint of a smile spread across his face. “A fight, even a big one, doesn't have to mean a breakup Zach, trust me.” Gaze focussed on something over Zach’s shoulder, something he was sure he wouldn’t see even if he turned to look, the smile slid from the man’s face as he contorted his features into something reassuring instead. “And even if you do break up, in my experience it doesn't have to last forever if you love each other enough. You love her.”

It wasn’t a question, had never been a question, but love wasn’t the problem here.

“Of course! But-”

“Then I’m sure you two can fix it. With or without my help.” His absolute assuredness, his conviction, would’ve been comforting had he actually had any clue what he was talking about. “Now, what was the fight about.”

Zach sighed. This was the kicker.

“Kids.” A twitch of his nose, a flex of his jaw, a blink of his eyes that lasted just a fraction longer than normal. It was admirable the way he tried to hold back his flinch, tried to disguise it from his face, but Zach knew his own features well enough to recognise the signs of discomfort in the man who passed them on to him. “Cammie asked me if I want them, I said no. She wasn’t overly pleased.”

Silence hung between them like a wet blanket. 

“Ah.” Eventually, his father sighed, nodded in understanding.

“Yeah.” Worryingly close to tears again, Zach slurped down the rest of his coffee before running his fingers through his unruly hair and burying his face in his hands, elbows rested on the counter. “Bit harder to fix than a fight about where in Rome to buy a cappuccino.”

Another contemplative pause, “Maybe,” and a thin stretch of silence, the sound of the man beside him sipping from his teacup distracting him from the ringing in his ears. “But easier than a fight about a secret history with the woman who killed your best friend and tortured your niece. Or about leaving you drugged in bed to go rogue on a mission. Or about abandoning you half dead in hospital because you’re too afraid of your feelings to stay.”

In fairness, that did all sound pretty complicated. Zach suddenly had a better idea as to why Abby and his father waited so long before getting together despite apparently knowing one another for decades. Lifting his head slightly and angling it towards the man however, there was only one thing he could think to ask. “Please tell me she drugged you?”

A deep of sigh of bemusement. “She wasn’t the first woman to do so, nor was she the last.”

Smirking, a deep chuckle forced its way out of his constricting throat, the memory of Cammie explaining their first test of Liz’s truth serum to him coming back to him in a flurry. “Have you thought about being more careful with your food?”

“You’re as bad as as the rest of them.�� Grumbling under his breath, something about bloody Americans, he got up again to make them another drink as Zach’s head returned to his hands. “So Cameron wants kids.” He nodded. Apparently. “And you don’t.”

He froze.

That wasn’t quite it.

He liked kids. Meeting Liz’s younger sisters, helping Joe out with Cove-Ops field trips at Gallagher, even going back to Blackthorn and speaking with the boys about their futures, about what it will mean to belong to something should they enlist at Langley, had opened his eyes to the fact that he was fond of children even if he didn’t always know what to do with them. Once he got over his initial anger, his instinctive jealousy, he even found himself excited to be a big brother, an extensive conversation with Mrs Morgan even helping him minimise his fears about failing them. Cammie knew all this, had witnessed him learning a convoluted hand-clapping game with young Emily Sutton, had seen his smiles as he returned from helping teach at each of their old schools, had found the copy of the twin’s sonogram in his wallet.

But none of that meant he was going to be a father. He couldn’t. He would ruin them.

“It- It doesn’t matter what I- I’m not having kids!” The volume of his words, the intensity fuelling them, made his father stop in his tracks. Zach lifted his head again, entire body tense, imploringly staring at the man in an attempt to make him see, make him understand. “I thought we were on the same page about it. I’ve told her this before, a couple times, and she doesn’t listen. She never listens to what I think about this sort of thing, always thinking she knows me better than I know myself, but she’s wrong! Not that she’d ever hear that of course, how could Cameron Morgan ever be-”

“You’re not yelling about my niece are you?”

The stern voice interrupted Zach’s vitriol, the anger spewing from his throat dissipating on his tongue. Both him and Townsend flinched, turning to face Abby as she made her way into the room, hip cocked and eyebrow raised.

Her exhaustion was painted over her face, skin pale and bags sagging under her eyes. Normally light on her feet, she moved slowly under the added weight of Zach’s brother and sister, the muscles in her shoulders and back alternating between slumped and arched as she tried to find a comfortable position. Still, there was a light in her eyes, almost a bounce in her step despite the added baggage. Pregnancy glow, Mrs Morgan called it.

Trying to look as charming as he could, he shot her an apologetic smile, shoulders slumped in regret. “Hi Abby.”

She shot him a forgiving grin and wiggled her fingers in a small wave. “Hiya Zach.”

Moving to sit beside him, she gave her husband a thankful look as he pulled out the stool for her and helped her take a seat, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he did. “Sorry Love, did we wake you?”

“No no, your other son did that when he decided to use my bladder as a soccer ball.” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, laid another kiss to her head, laughed into her hair. “Are we talking about the fight you had with Cammie?”

“Wait, you know?”

“I know everything Zach. Now, Cam didn’t tell the girls what it was about but Macey’s money is on you doing something wrong, which I don’t want to believe but know that I can still beat you up if necessary. Joe thinks that you or she proposed before the other was ready, as if either of you would dare without speaking to Rach first. Personally, I’m leaning more towards the two of you having a chat about the future and disagreeing on something, very on brand for a couple with Townsend and Cameron blood.”

Stunned, he blinked at her, his expression no doubt mirroring the astonishment on his father’s face. “It’s only been two days. How many people know about this?”

“Spies talk kid.” She shrugged at him, leaning back into her husband’s embrace. “Squirt vented to Bex who obviously blabbed to Liz and Macey. Macey told me, and I needed someone to gossip to so I told Joe. Rachel doesn't know if that makes you feel better.”

“It does a bit.” Not only because Mrs Morgan scared him, but because if Cammie hadn’t confided in her mom yet, then maybe this wasn’t a breakup like he thought.

“You told Solomon but not me?”

“I can’t badmouth your kid to your face Ed.”

Zach always figured Abby would take Cammie’s side if they fought, but he hoped she would at least wait to find out what happened before critiquing him. “Badmouth? I thought you thought it was a mutual thing?”

“No, I said I thought it was a disagreement about the future. Very different.” Eyebrow raised and eyes inquisitive, she levelled an amused yet stern glare at him. “Like recognises like kid, and you have I’m scared of being a parent written all over you.”

“How did you-”

“In the five minutes I’ve been in the room, you’ve started at my bump for at least two, and you’ve looked at the sonogram on the fridge five times. You also seem pretty interested in the picture of me, Rach, and our father over in the hallway.” His eyes cut towards the picture in question, just visible through the open plan kitchen’s arched entrance.

It depicted a teenaged Mrs Morgan looking remarkably similar to Cammie as he first met her, carrying on her hip a young child with dark hair and bright green eyes. Behind them loomed a tall, strong-looking man with his daughters’ smile. Looking back at the girl from the picture nearly 40 years later, he caught her looking back up his own father with a cheeky, teasing grin on her face. “Good thing you stepped out of the field huh, that’s a lot of tells for a seasoned operative to miss.” The man just rolled his eyes and grumbled something about being up late last night battling with a crib in response.

Something like jealousy fluttered in Zach’s stomach at his father’s words. It wasn’t his fault, it’s not like the man ever knew that Catherine was pregnant with his kid, but Zach never had a father stay up late trying to set up a crib, or a playstation, or a model plane. He can’t imagine his parents ever smiled at each like they were the only people in the room, like no one else mattered. The twins would have that, and Zach was glad for it, but he still spent a lot of time wishing that he had that too.

Looking away from them both, he thought about what she said, thought about how Cammie had accused him of being a coward, about how even Grant suggested that maybe he wasn’t letting himself even consider the idea of kids.

“I’m not scared. I just- I can’t be a dad.”

“Uh huh.” Tone dry, she looked completely unimpressed with his attempt at a dismissal. “Look kid, here’s what’s going to happen. Your dad’s going to make me peanut butter and pickle sandwich, because your siblings have an appetite that could rival Garfield’s and I’m hungry again.” She hadn’t even paused to take a breath before the man was moving towards the fridge, an affectionate smile softening the roll of his eyes. “Then I’m going back to sleep. Meanwhile, you two are going to talk about how it’s normal to be afraid of parenthood, and how you’re not going to be like your mother, and how, believe it or not, you do know things about being a father. And he’s going to let you in on the secret that no one knows what they’re doing when it comes to kids, even people with regular, functional parents. You’ve met your grandparents, they’re completely normal and you know first hand how Edward fucked up his first year or so of fatherhood.”

“Thank you Abigail, but in my defence those were pretty unique circumstances.”

“You’ll process your feelings or whatever and then you’ll apologise to Cam, the two of you will make up and this will all be water under the bridge before Rachel has to find out that you screamed at her little girl.”

Zach flinched at the quick glare she shot him, shuddered slightly as he imagined it coming from the elder of the Cameron sisters. “I don’t even know how we’d do that, Cam and I haven’t fought since we were kids, and never like this.”

Both of them started at him blankly.

“You never fight?” They spoke in unison, confusion tainting their voices, turning to glare suspiciously at one another when their thoughts lined up for once.

Zach didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. “Not everyone is like you two you know!”

Grunting, Abby climbed to her feet and took the sandwich from her husband’s outstretched hand, moving towards Zach while still addressing Townsend. “Talk to your son.” She ruffled his hair and gave him a quick one armed hug before moving to leave the room. A brief look over her shoulder, and she left them with one last piece of wisdom. “My mother and I didn’t get on Zach. I mean, she wasn’t a raging psychopath like yours, but she wasn’t a great mother to me all the same. It was one of the many reasons I was always afraid of having kids, why I went round saying I didn’t want them so no one knew I was just terrified of becoming her. It took me a long time to realise that we don’t have to become our parents, almost too long.” One of her hands drifted to her stomach, her eyes unrecognisably soft. “Try not to hold out too long, I don’t know how long Cammie will wait.”

With that, she disappeared into the hallway, the echo of her footsteps up the stairs the only sound in the townhouse.

“Is she right? You’re scared?”

“You’ve known her longer than me, isn’t she always right?”

“She always thinks she is.”

Zach smirked a little at that, knowing by his father’s warm eyes and affectionate tone that he meant the barb in jest only. The older man moved to sit beside him again, passing him a fresh coffee and nursing a new cup of tea himself. He took a deep breath, peering at Zach with little side glances. Part of him wanted to tell the man to just say it, blurt it out, but truthfully he was grateful for the moment to collect himself, brace himself for whatever input his father decided to give.

“I think you want want kids, one day.”

That wasn’t really what he was expecting.

“Oh, because you know me so well, with all the years you’ve known me?” Something biting and cruel snuck into his tone, a sliver of old resentment rearing its ugly head again.

Townsend didn’t even flinch. “I think you want kids but you lashed out at Cameron because you’re scared, just like Abby said. And I think that because you came here.” Zach scoffed, forced his gaze away, accidentally locking his eyes on the sonogram pinned to the fridge, his own copy burning a hole through the wallet in his pocket. “If you really didn’t want this with her someday, you would’ve left the second you realised that what the two of you wanted in life didn’t line up, to spare her any more hurt if nothing else. And if you didn’t want to move past your fear you would’ve gone to Joe instead of coming here, because you know Joe wouldn’t be able to change your mind like I can.”

It was infuriating, the way this man suddenly seemed to get him. For so many years after Catherine revealed their relation, any interactions between the two of them felt forced and uncomfortable, neither of them knowing how to talk to the other. Now it seemed like he knew what Zach was thinking, what he needed to hear, long before he himself did.

“I’m assuming Cameron isn’t thinking about having children any time soon?”

“No of course not, just someday.”

“Then between the two of us we’ve got some time to get you feeling ready. Less scared. Though I’ll warn you now the fear never really seems to go away completely. Do you think, if you were less scared of becoming like your mother and I, that you would want kids?”

Cammie had asked him a similar question the other day. At the time, it made him angry, defensive, but Townsend’s matter-of-fact tone, the way he acknowledged and accepted that it was partly becoming like him that Zach was afraid of, set him at ease a bit. He steeled himself, tried to channel all the courage he had.

He nodded.

His father’s lips quirked upwards ever so slightly, a tiny hint of a smile breaking through his stoic mask for a fraction of a second before he continued. “Okay, well by the time Cameron’s ready, you wont feel so afraid any more, I promise.” Zach started to ask how he was so sure, how on earth he could promise that, but the man kept talking before he had a chance to interject. “The number of kids I have is about to triple. You’re going to watch me try to raise two kids who, knowing my luck, will be as difficult as their mother, and you’re going to watch me get it wrong. Over and over again. But I’ve promised Abby, and I’ve promised them, and now I’m promising you that I’m also going to get it right.” Something that looked like tears started springing in the man’s eyes, the pair of them taking on a glassy sheen as his voice became thick. “You’re going to see everything I do right and everything I do wrong with these two. The same way I wish you got experience me getting things right and wrong with you, your entire childhood. A few years of that and I promise you, you wont feel as afraid. You’ll know what to do, and what not to do, and you’ll be better than me by a long shot. Until then, you go home to your girlfriend with a bouquet of flowers in hand and apologise. Cameron’s reasonable so it wont take much more than that for this so-called breakup to be over. Okay?”

It was a lot.

Zach’s own throat was getting clogged with tears, the emotion in his father’s voice drawing out some of his own. Heat was building behind his eyes and a headache was stating to brew, his chest hurt and his stomach was fluttering. He wasn’t used to this, to discussing his feelings with his father and hearing him vent them in return, he didn’t even do this with Joe. Still, what he said resonated with him, sending waves of reassurance through his body until he was nodding along with the man’s words.

He could do that. He could do this.

Townsend clamped a solid hand on his shoulder, gave it a squeeze, leant in close even as his eyes swam with tears. “Okay?”

Another firm nod and Zach threw his arms around the man in a hug, squeezing tight to his shoulders as his father’s arms settled firmly around his back. Briefly, he buried his face in the man’s neck, wiping his brewing tears on the collar of his shirt. Zach whispered a soft okay in his father’s ear sniffling as the man patted him soothingly on the back, hesitated, then pressed a quick kiss to the crown of his head.

“Thanks Dad.”

“Anytime son.”

———————————————————————

Authors note:

Zach: I had a fight with my girlfriend! Our relationship and my entire life is over!

Townsend: Buddy have I got some stories for you.

Accidentally made this one very long lol, but I kind of love their potential dynamic and how it might change over the years as they learn to accept one another (with forceful encouragement by the various women in their lives).

Zach mentions in UWS that he doesn’t want kids, but the way he spoke about it definitely made it sound like a fear reaction more than anything else. Understandable given everything, but I imagine Abby and Townsend probably had similar conversations before having the twins so they’re in a good position to try talk him through his fears/concerns.

[haughttopics]

finally watched happiest season and i totally understand why people hated the ending.

except for Jane. she deserves the world.

[thecreativemillennial]

Linda cardellini

[emmielemie]

hi everyone! i'm looking for mutuals :)

I'm Em - part-time overthinker, writer and primary curator of this tumblr. I run this blog primarily to find people who shares the same interests as me.

Formula 1 | Books (both fiction and non-fiction) | STEM | Poetry | Edits and posters | Music

favourite F1 drivers: 44, 81, 22, 16, 33/1

favourite F1 Academy drivers: Abbi Pulling, Doriane Pin, The Al-Qubaisi sisters

Favourite Books: Aggtm, Percy Jackson, The Hunger Games, and I also prefer anything related to science, politics, historical events, and current affairs

Favourite Artists: jann, connor price, fletcher, coldplay, chase atlantic

It's nice to meet you, and I hope to see you all with lots of posts shortly. :)

[cutemeat]

they still do not understand that the sunny world needs to BREATHE....and by that i mean they need to do side characters again.

[lunalivvy]

MOURNING THE ABBY WE COULD’VE HAD </3

((THE MIDDLE AND BOTTOM LEFT PIC HELLO ??))

[chai-berries]

HER SAYING yeah AND THEN HAVING THE SADDEST LIL FACE EVER I JUST WANNA CUP HER FACE IN MY HANDS AND KISS AND SQUISH HER CHEEKS UNTIL SHE SMILES FOR REAL <\3

credit to spaceswifty

[messrmoonyy]

So you’re telling me the person apparently casted as Abby is a short, small framed, conventionally attractive woman. Small enough that she almost played Ellie and she is now playing Abby?

[aberooski]

When I tell you I get the biggest smile on my face every time 😊

You go, Sy!

[thereadingmoon]

the horror of my best friend’s exorcism is the same horror of rosemary’s baby. the mounting dread and frustration that gathers as you watch this poor, naïve, and trusting young woman try to claw out of a cage society makes for her that she can’t escape, a hole she’s digging deeper for herself because she mistook it for the escape route. you want to scream at her to wise up because if it was anybody else—someone smarter, someone less trusting, someone bolder—the story would’ve ended the moment things started acting up. but she isn’t any of those things and that’s the beauty and the ugliness of this horror story. she was just a woman who didn’t know better and look where that got her.

[g-girlshavingfun]

December Prompts

2) A broken teapot - Zach & Townsend

A year and a half after the events of UWS, Zach joins Townsend (and Abby) for Christmas at his parent’s house back in England. (3,241)

———————————————————————

Zach wanted to go home.

He had been here for almost a week now, here being the Townsend family home in some rundown town on the outskirts of London, and he had had enough. Enough of the country and their stupid beige food only, drive on the wrong side of the road, overly polite yet passive aggressive tendencies. Enough of the old house and how it didn’t keep in any heat, nor block any noise passing between rooms, how the walls were littered with loving pictures of the family throughout the years, how there were scratches on the doorjamb marking height marks for all 3 of the Townsend children. Enough of the family, his grandparents with their cheerful overfamiliarity, of his asshole of an uncle and overly judgey aunt, of the little kids who kept following him around and calling him cousin.

Enough of his so-called fucking father who invited him to this godforsaken place.

In fact the only person he could still stand in this place was Abby, and that was largely she kept slipping him sips of her stronger drinks in the evenings.

He wanted to see Cammie, to spend his days badgering her at work and his evenings curled up with her in the apartment she shared with Liz. He wanted to go to the gym with Bex, who was visiting the girls back in the states, and Grant, unload his frustrations by pummelling a sandbag rather than grinding his teeth to fangs. He wanted to sit with Joe on his deck, in the company of a man who he understood, who understood him, who would let him simmer in his silence as long as he liked.

He wanted to go home.

Instead he was due to stay another week, flying back with Townsend and Abby on the 27th in order to celebrate the new year with their family before they all disperse back to the Academy or College or Langley. Zach wasn’t certain he was going to survive the week.

It had all started a month ago when, over another awkward attempt at bonding encouraged by various women in their lives, Townsend asked Zach if he wanted to come to England with him and Abby this Christmas to meet the rest of his illustrious blood relatives. It wasn’t the first invitation of its kind. Last year, Christmas Day was spent at Cammie’s grandparent’s ranch in Nebraska, him and Townsend meeting the pair for the first time and Joe and Abby being welcomed back with open arms after years of avoiding Matthew Morgan’s parents. For new years day however, Townsend travelled home to see his own family, Abby in tow. Zach had been invited, but even Cammie conceded that the offer sounded forced and was likely only extended through a mix of politeness and Abby’s cajoling. As it turned out, this was for the best, as he heard from Cammie, who heard from Mrs Morgan, who heard from Abby, that Townsend had used the holiday to explain the whole I have an adult son I never knew about situation, and the fact that he was now permanently moving to the States. It hadn’t gone down brilliantly.

Since then, Zach and his father had bonded more, got closer. They were’t buddy-buddy or anything; it's not like Zach was running around calling him Dad, but the time spent together at work, with the Cameron-Morgan-Solomon family, and on trips out that Townsend awkwardly invited him on, had meant that they got on alright these days. Hence, since he managed to get out of Istanbul in time to celebrate thanksgiving with Cam and her family, he figured he’d finally bite the bullet and meet his father’s family.

He flew straight in from an op in Peru, exhausted from long nights of surveillance on a man suspected to be involved in a trafficking ring, frustrated from his orders not to intervene and the dressing down he know he’ll get when Agent Loxley finds out he did, and in pain from the bruised and broken ribs now lining his right side. Almost immediately upon leaving the airport, he was nearly knocked over as he headed towards the car that Townsend and Abby were waiting for him in.

“Watch out kid, the maniacs drive on the wrong side of the road here.”

“She was on the right side Abigail-“

“She was actively not driving on the right side.”

“-the correct side, it’s much more logical to drive on the left.”

“Then why is it only you lot and like, 5 other countries-”

“A third of the worlds population actually.”

“-Oh please that’s just because of India. And a third is still less than 2 thirds.”

“Wow, you should be a mathematician.”

Zach tried to tune out their bickering lest it worsen the headache he could feel building behind his eyes, tried not to listen to Abby’s airy laugh lest it reminded him of Cammie’s and worsen the ache he felt in his chest for her, tried not to look at the lovestruck expression his father wore lest he start remembering that he would never quite love his son that much.

After dozing off in the car, he woke up when they pulled up in front of a modest-looking stone building with two doors, a small fence separating the yard leading up to them. Townsend parked the car on the street and leapt out to grab Zach’s bags from the trunk, while the man in question to a deep breath, steadying himself.

Abby managed to catch his eyes in the mirror. “Their names are Bill and Heather by the way.” With that she threw him a small wink before stepping out the car herself, deliberately waiting until Townsend was about to open it for her, just to piss him off.

Before they had even reached the entrance to the Townsend semi-detached house, the door was thrown open by an older woman with white hair and a bright smile. She had Townsend’s eyes, though none of his imposing height, needing to reach upwards in her quest to grasp Zach by the cheeks.

“Oh look at you! You look just like your father, doesn't he look just like you Eddie?”

Eddie?

Townsends cheeks flamed slightly, clearing his throat while Abby huffed out a laugh behind them. “Mum this is Zach, Zach this is-“

“You can call me Nana, honey, or Grandma, whichever you prefer.” He caught Abby’s eyes as she stepped around them, Heather is fine, she mouthed at him. “Now come inside before you freeze, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

If he hadn’t spotted the similarities in their appearance, hadn’t known coming into this that this woman was Townsend’s mother, he never would’ve guessed. The smile gracing her face was large and seemed to be permanently tattooed there, a stark contrast to her son’s serious and controlled demeanour. Warmth sept from her pores, honey dripped from her words, the welcoming scent of pine followed her around as she ushered him into the hallway. Her hands, weathered and wrinkled by age but soft and gentle, didn’t stray from his face, his arms, his shoulders, the entire time they walked, fluttering around him as though desperate to give him a hug but holding back. Zach could count on one hand the number of times Townsend had initiated such contact with him.

“Everybody, this is Zach,” she announced ceremoniously to a small sitting room filled to the brim with people, hands pushing him forward to present him to the gathering. “Honey this is you grandpa,” an elderly gentleman, tall like Townsend but wiry and frail, leant forward to vigorously shake his hand, “and your aunt Trisha.” The plump woman with bleach blonde hair lurking in the corner clearly tried to smile at him, but it spread across her face in more of a sneer. “Her husband is Mike,” the similarly plump man with an unshaven beard and a fully shaven head gave him a polite nod, “and Tony over there is your uncle, my youngest.” Tony bore the strongest physical resemblance to Townsend of the bunch, though he was clearly about a decade younger, and carried himself in a much less serious manner, dressed in a bright Hawaiian shirt and beer in hand. “Then these are your cousins, Janie, Tommy, and-“

“Abby!” - “Oof”

A small blur dashed past them and catapulted itself into Abby’s arms, legs tangled around her waist and head ducked under chin.

“That’s Mika, she’s very fond of your st- I mean of Abby.” Heather either didn’t notice the way all three of them tensed slightly at her near slip, or very valiantly ignored it. “Now come in, come in, make yourself at home. Eddie will put your bags away, you’re staying in his old room. It's the smallest in the house but he thought that was better than staying in the playroom with the kids. Poor Tony is on the sofa in the office, we only have four bedrooms so it’s hard to squeeze everyone in, but we’ll manage! Now sit, sit, I’ll fetch you a drink.”

“I’ll do that Heather, you take a seat. Coffee Zach?” He nodded at Abby, watching as she made her way into the kitchen, Mika still hanging from her neck like a limpet. “Does anyone else want anything?” A number of requests were thrown her way, and Tony didn’t hesitate in leaping up to give her a hand, a smirk dancing across his face that soured Zach’s feelings towards him quickly.

Taking a seat on the couch, Zach took a moment to scan his surroundings. The walls were a warm orange hue, and covered in framed photos. Two sets of wedding photos, Heather and Bill’s and Mike and Trisha’s, plus photos of all the kids, as babies, in school uniforms, at parties. Similar photos of Townsend, Trisha, and Toby were hung up as well, Zach even spied a picture on the windowsill of Abby and Mika taken what must’ve been last new years eve, next to one of her and Townsend taken at the ranch.

One photo in particular caught his attention. It was the three adults as children, Townsend, maybe 11, holding a baby he assumed was Toby, his sister, about 5, perched on the arm of the couch beside him. She was mid laugh, and even Townsend had a slight smile on his face, cheeks rounder and eyes softer than Zach was used to seeing. Fewer lines drawn across his face and no bags weighing his skin down. He looked like a happy kid.

Something like jealousy, like hatred, like hurt, bubbled up in his throat and burned through his chest. There weren’t any pictures of Zach as a kid. Catherine either didn’t take them or didn’t care enough to keep them; Zach has no idea what he looked like as a kid. He knew he was scrawny, probably due to a few too many meals missed, and he knew he wasn’t happy. He didn’t have a home filled with family pictures and love, where everyone was welcome and wanted. He didn’t have a warm mother who doted on him, who called him honey and wrapped him up in hugs whenever he wanted. He didn’t have any siblings to hold or be held by, to share in their struggles or their joy. He didn’t even have a fucking father.

Now he did though. Now he had a father who was kind of trying, Zach knew. He made an effort to learn things about Zach, do invite him to do things he might enjoy. He helped him pay rent the couple of times he’s struggled and he offered him a place to sleep when his last apartment fell through.

He was trying, now.

But he grew up in this home, with real parents and real siblings. With a street he could play on and a warm bedroom to come home to. Immersed in love and affection so vivid that it bled from the walls that boxed him in. He had this perfect life, this perfect family.

Why didn’t Zach get any of that?

That was the question the burned through him when Abby passed him his drink. When he took a sip and immediately registered a hint of something stronger lingering in the background, Abby’s wink and reassuring smile confirming what he suspected. It was kind of her to try help him relax, and it did help a bit.

But the questions, the rage, had been lingering in the back of his mind, in the pit of his stomach, in the heart of his chest, for the past week. Every time Heather soothed a hand over his head, or pressed a kiss to her son’s cheek. Every time Bill clapped Townsend on the back, called him son. Every time the kids latched onto his legs and asked him to play with them, leaving him floundering until Abby swooped in as a suitable replacement. Every time Trisha looked down her nose at him, or Toby tried chatting to him about women, its all Zach could do not to scream.

He wonders if he could’ve had this. If Townsend had stuck around long enough to realise Catherine was pregnant. If he took him from her, took him to this nice normal family. Would he be a happier kid? More normal?

Would he be happier now?

A week into his visit, and the thought was still keeping him up at night. He had tossed and turned in this bed that used to be his father’s what felt like a thousand times before giving in and heading downstairs for a drink.

Clearly though, theres no escape in this house, as he opened the door to the kitchen to find Abby perched on the counter separating the kitchen from the sitting room and Townsend preparing something on the stove.

“What are you two doing up?”

Townsend seemed to have short-circuited, starting at him as if he’d forgotten his son was supposed to be sleeping upstairs. Abby just grinned. “Jet-lag.”

“You’ve been here a week?”

A slight flush flickered across his fathers face.

“Okay then. We needed to stretch our legs.” Abby was clearly in a good mood, wide smile stretching across her face as she reached out to nudge Townsend with her foot. Flush spreading from his cheeks down his neck, his father chuckled and responded “We?” to which Abby stuck her tongue out at him.

Oh. Oh.

No doubt seeing his own face begin to heat up as he caught on to Abby’s innuendos, Townsend whipped a tea towel at her when she began to laugh again, asking him what he was doing up.

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

A wicked grin and a wink was sent his way. “Calling Cam?”

“-Wha-? No!”

“Please stop.” Townsend wouldn’t look at him, just staring dejectedly at Abby while she threw her head back in giggles. “You’re impossible.” But he pressed a kiss to the side of her head anyway, turning away before Zach could analyse the look on his face.

“Do you want a drink Zach?” He asked politely, tone switching from the exasperated affection he reserved for Abby to a neutral polite. Zach stared at his back, watching as he decanted tea from a china teapot decorated with pictures of the family into mugs he retrieved from the cupboard. The ones he picked out were plain, but he could spot one that said “best father ever”, and another with sloppily painted hearts in all shades of pink. He wondered which of the siblings bought the former, which of them lovingly hand painted the latter. Wondered again why his father got to have this perfectly normal family only to leave him with Catherine.

Why didn’t I get any of this?

His father paused, turning to face him as he set one of the mugs in Abby’s outstretched hands.

Shit did I say that out loud?

“What do you mean Zach?” His face was cautious, tone inquisitive, turning to face him fully. Over his shoulder, Abby cocked her head slightly, a single eyebrow raised. Zach would bet his career that she already knew exactly what he meant, has probably known he was going to blow up long before he did. It was a scary skill she shared with her sister, knowing what the people around them were thinking before they did themselves. “Get any of what?”

The anger built up in her chest again, pounding through his heart hot and volatile and fast. Snatching the offered mug out of his hands, ignoring the trickle of pain that burned down his skin as the hot water splashed over the rim, he slammed it down on the counter and threw his hands out to gesture at the mugs still in the cupboard. “That!” The picture of the siblings cuddled up on the sofa. “That!” The rooms upstairs where the strangers who were supposed to be his grandparents were sleeping. He threw his hands out at his father, “Fucking any of it!”

Suddenly, the jealousy and the rage and the pain were so overwhelming, everything boiled over and Zach thought he was going to explode. He reached out and grabbed the stupid teapot from the counter, hurling it straight at Townsend’s head. Luckily, the man had enough of his wits about him to duck, and Abby slid herself along the counter away from the wall where the pot shattered, fragments of china flying over the room and the remnants of the hot tea trickling down the kitchen tiles. Zach screamed, strangled out of his throat and hot in his mouth. Hands went to his hair, grabbing, ripping tearing, trying to feel anything but the splitting in his chest. Knees collapsing, back bending, he curled forwards onto the floor, legs slamming into the cool ground as he tried to keep his breath in his chest.

All he ever had was her, why couldn’t he have any of this?

A third hand was suddenly on his head, easing open his clenched fists and soothing back his messy hair. It found its way to the back of neck, bringing him forward as another hand found his back, and suddenly his face was buried in his father’s neck as the tears finally broke free. Harsh sobs drew their way out of his chest, trickling down his face and dripping down his nose, ripping open his throat and dribbling from his mouth. He wept openly, blubbering half formed words of apology and unfairness, hands dropping to his sides and gently reach out for Townsend’s shirt as he fell into the man’s chest. A single kiss was pressed to the top of his head, a small “I’m sorry” whispered into the back of his ear.

He fell apart.

In the back of his mind, he could hear Abby ushering the children away from the kitchen door, apologising for the bang and promising them a story to send them back to sleep. He felt Townsend rocking him slightly side to side, lost count of the apologies pressed into his head, sensed them shifting slowly so the man’s back was leant against the cabinets. No one tried to remove him, or reprimand him, or send him away for being bad or a bother or for simply not being enough. He ended up staying there the whole night, crying quietly in his father’s arms, still wanting to go home, but feeling much closer to it than he had this morning.

———————————————————————

Authors note:

Once again, this was much longer than expected. Hopefully they won’t all end up this long or it definitely going to fall behind in the first week, but here you go.

Don’t know if I quite conveyed the build up and the cause of Zach’s anger right but I imagine Townsend coming from a completely normal family, which is obviously completely different to Zach’s upbringing, and there’s a lot of jealousy there mixed in with the feeling of abandonment, even if Zach know it wasn’t really his fault and he is trying. Was going to try write a full resolution where they talk about everything but it was becoming far too long. Plus, I think this suits them a bit better, neither of them are big on talking about their feelings anyway.

Abby pretty much spends this entire holiday getting tipsy, teasing the boys, and playing with the kids. She’s having a great time.