#how massachusetts met maine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreaminginthedeepsouth · 3 months ago

Text

[Langston Hughes]

* * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

November 3, 2024

Heather Cox Richardson

Nov 03, 2024

I’m home tonight to stay for a bit, after being on the road for thirteen months and traveling through 32 states. I am beyond tired but profoundly grateful for the chance to meet so many wonderful people and for the welcome you have given me to your towns and your homes.

I know people are on edge, and there is maybe one last thing I can offer before this election. Every place I stopped, worried people asked me how I have maintained a sense of hope through the past fraught years. The answer—inevitably for me, I suppose—is in our history.

If you had been alive in 1853, you would have thought the elite enslavers had become America’s rulers. They were only a small minority of the U.S. population, but by controlling the Democratic Party, they had managed to take control of the Senate, the White House, and the Supreme Court. They used that power to stop the northerners who wanted the government to clear the rivers and harbors of snags, for example, or to fund public colleges for ordinary people, from getting any such legislation through Congress. But at least they could not use the government to spread their system of human enslavement across the country, because the much larger population in the North held control of the House of Representatives.

Then in 1854, with the help of Democratic president Franklin Pierce, elite enslavers pushed the Kansas-Nebraska Act through the House. That law overturned the Missouri Compromise that had kept Black enslavement out of the American West since 1820. Because the Constitution guarantees the protection of property—and enslaved Americans were considered property—the expansion of slavery into those territories would mean the new states there would become slave states. Their representatives would work together with those of the southern slave states to outvote the northern free labor advocates in Congress. Together, they would make enslavement national.

America would become a slaveholding nation.

Enslavers were quite clear that this was their goal.

South Carolina senator James Henry Hammond explicitly rejected “as ridiculously absurd, that much lauded but nowhere accredited dogma of Mr. Jefferson, that ‘all men are born equal.’” He explained to his Senate colleagues that the world was made up of two classes of people. The “Mudsills” were dull drudges whose work produced the food and products that made society function. On them rested the superior class of people, who took the capital the mudsills produced and used it to move the economy, and even civilization itself, forward. The world could not survive without the inferior mudsills, but the superior class had the right—and even the duty—to rule over them.

But that’s not how it played out.

As soon as it became clear that Congress would pass the Kansas-Nebraska Act, Representative Israel Washburn of Maine called a meeting of thirty congressmen in Washington, D.C., to figure out how they could fight back against the Slave Power that had commandeered the government to spread the South’s system of human enslavement. The men met in the rooms of Representative Edward Dickinson of Massachusetts—whose talented daughter Emily was already writing poems—and while they came to the meeting from all different political parties, often bitterly divided over specific policies, they left with one sole purpose: to stop the overthrow of American democracy.

The men scattered back to their homes across the North for the summer, sharing their conviction that a new party must rise to stand against the Slave Power. They found “anti-Nebraska” sentiment sweeping their towns; a young lawyer from Illinois later recalled how ordinary people came together: “[W]e rose each fighting, grasping whatever he could first reach—a scythe—a pitchfork—a chopping axe, or a butcher’s cleaver.” In the next set of midterm elections, those calling themselves “anti-Nebraska” candidates swept into both national and state office across the North, and by 1856, opponents of the Slave Power had become a new political party: the Republicans.

But the game wasn’t over. In 1857, the Supreme Court tried to take away Republicans’ power to stop the spread of slavery to the West by declaring in the infamous Dred Scott decision that Congress had no power to legislate in the territories. This made the Missouri Compromise that had kept enslavement out of the land above Missouri unconstitutional. The next day, Republican editor of the New York Tribune Horace Greeley wrote that the decision was “entitled to just so much moral weight as would be the judgment of a majority of those congregated in any Washington bar-room.”

By 1858 the party had a new rising star, the young lawyer from Illinois who had talked about everyone reaching for tools to combat the Kansas-Nebraska Act: Abraham Lincoln. Pro-slavery Democrats called the Republicans radicals for their determination to stop the expansion of slavery, but Lincoln countered that the Republicans were the country’s true conservatives, for they were the ones standing firm on the Declaration of Independence. The enslavers rejecting the Founders’ principles were the radicals.

The next year, Lincoln articulated an ideology for the party, defining it as the party of ordinary Americans defending the democratic idea that all men are created equal against those determined to overthrow democracy with their own oligarchy.

In 1860, at a time when voting was almost entirely limited to white men, voters put Abraham Lincoln into the White House. Furious, southern leaders took their states out of the Union and launched the Civil War.

By January 1863, Lincoln had signed the Emancipation Proclamation ending the American system of human enslavement in lands still controlled by the Confederacy. By November 1863 he had delivered the Gettysburg Address, firmly rooting the United States of America in the Declaration of Independence.

In that speech, Lincoln charged Americans to rededicate themselves to the unfinished work for which so many had given their lives. He urged them to “take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion, that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain, that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”

In less than ten years the country went from a government dominated by a few fabulously wealthy men who rejected the idea that human beings are created equal and who believed they had the right to rule over the masses, to a defense of government of the people, by the people, for the people, and to leaders who called for a new birth of freedom. But Lincoln did not do any of this alone: always, he depended on the votes of ordinary people determined to have a say in the government under which they lived.

In the 1860s the work of those people established freedom and democracy as the bedrock of the United States of America, but the structure itself remained unfinished. In the 1890s and then again in the 1930s, Americans had to fight to preserve democracy against those who would destroy it for their own greed and power. Each time, thanks to ordinary Americans, democracy won.

Now it is our turn.

In our era the same struggle has resurfaced. A small group of leaders has rejected the idea that all people are created equal and seeks to destroy our democracy in order to install themselves into permanent power.

And just as our forebears did, Americans have reached for whatever tools we have at hand to build new coalitions across the nation to push back. After decades in which ordinary people had come to believe they had little political power, they have mobilized to defend American democracy and—with an electorate that now includes women and Black Americans and Brown Americans—have discovered they are strong.

On November 5 we will find out just how strong we are. We will each choose on which side of the historical ledger to record our names. On the one hand, we can stand with those throughout our history who maintained that some people were better than others and had the right to rule; on the other, we can list our names on the side of those from our past who defended democracy and, by doing so, guarantee that American democracy reaches into the future.

I have had hope in these dark days because I look around at the extraordinary movement that has built in this country over the past several years, and it looks to me like the revolution of the 1850s that gave America a new birth of freedom.

As always, the outcome is in our hands.

“Fellow-citizens,” Lincoln reminded his colleagues, “we cannot escape history. We…will be remembered in spite of ourselves.”

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

#Letters From An American #Heather Cox Richardson #Abraham Lincoln #history #American History #democracy #Civil War #political parties #slavery #mudsills #Declaration of Independence #US Constitution #Langston Hughes #Kansas-Nebraska Act #fellow citizens #us election 2024

8 notes · View notes

fantasies-fairytales-n-fics · 1 year ago

Text

Code Blue Ch. 39- Seeing the Light

Summary: Jo's anxiety takes it's toll on her as she and Lee converse over new upsetting information. EMERGENCY. A race against time takes place. Lee gets a clue. He also gets a huge wake up call and asks someone important a very serious question.

*Warnings* language, angst, anxiety, graphic depictions

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie, Orlando, Britt, Angel, Margaret

Salem, Massachusetts

March 15, 2023

The smell of maple sausage and pancakes filled every crevice of the haunted house while a morning thunderstorm rumbled on. Lee was cooking Jacob's favorite breakfast food in hopes that it would draw him out again and it was a good way to try, for they say spirits are attracted to things that they loved and are familiar with, such as the house itself. It was the only home Jacob had ever known and you knew that was the reason Lee wanted to spend some time here, hoping to see him again.

You both spent the past two days once again being hermits, wanting to spend as much time as you could with each other before Lee went back to work at the start of next week because then, you wouldn't see as much of him and it was going to drive you bat shit crazy. You were going to have to learn all over again to readjust to the long hours of a doctor's schedule. Although Lee was happy to have his career back in full swing, he wasn't much for celebrating it after the incident with Mr. Carpenter. He truly did feel sorry for the grieving man considering he knew what is what like to lose a child but he certainly didn't feel bad for socking the mourning monster straight in the jaw for his uncalled perverted comment to you. For the time being, you and Lee both thought it best to remain desolate for awhile with so many crazy people on the loose and this time you chose to do so at the home he shared with Jacob...even still.

Lee had kept his promise to you and made sure Ethan couldn't contact him via phone by changing his numbers entirely, both mobile and landline and only those he trusted were permitted to have it. You didn't know what good it would really do though since Elizabeth and Cyrus both worked at the hospital and could easily access that information....and now Lee would have to deal with both of them almost on a daily basis. He had even contemplated changing hospitals but you convinced him to not let them run him out of a place he had invested so many years in and so much time to. Was that the right thing to do? You weren't sure anymore. Everything always seemed to be one step forward and two steps back.

You had spoken to Gerry. Victor was not improving and he feared the worst for the Greek tycoon. What would Gerry and his brother do with that big old mansion all to themselves? For they knew they would inherit it and all the forestry of acres that a small town could be built upon. Gerry didn't even live in the main house. He resided solo in the guest house on the lake that was damn near a fortress all in itself. Anywhere there was water, one would find Gerry for he was an avid surfer and damn good at it.

They certainly would never sell the place since it was a Kiriakis legacy dating back as far as a century or more and Vic would surely haunt them from the grave if they tried, or most likely hell considering his mile long list of sins. You certainly believed in the afterlife now because of Lee's experiences but it actually all started when you met Dave.

Dave was someone you considered quite special in that area. He had a secret that only you knew because he didn't exactly enjoy it, nor was it something easily believed or accepted, but he trusted you, knowing how open you were. Ever since he was a child, he could see spirits and even talk to them and it wasn't always a pleasant experience. It could be down right terrifying as he sometimes would suffer with sleep paralysis in his adolescent years. Dave would be the first to tell you that monsters were real. He never knew why it was happening to him and the older he got, the visits lessened which led him to believe it was just the typical phase of imaginary friends, but when it didn't cease in his adulthood years, he then knew he had a gift of clairvoyance, one he didn't ask for, nor want and working in a hospital where people died all the time didn't help the problem. He would never leave there though. He was too much like Lee, so compassionate and loving of what he did for others. Now, if you could only get him to talk with Lee about it and vice versa, but...it wasn't your place to tell either of their secrets. Except about Liz...if Dave didn't tell Britt, you would. It was for his own safety and Dave could be pissed at you all he wanted.

You had told Britt you wanted to speak to her soon after the whole Cyrus surprise, but now you were sort of avoiding it because after your almost slip up with Dave of mentioning Jason in the present tense, you feared you wouldn't be able to keep it from her of all people, the woman Jason loves and she does him. The more you thought about it all, the more pissed you became at your brother. Britt deserved to know he was alive. She was hurting so bad and you couldn't even imagine such a pain, for if something ever happened to Lee, it would tear your soul straight from your body. Hence, your dream. You couldn't shake it, the feeling of despair in the pit of your stomach. Ethan, Liz, Johnny, Cyrus, even Mr. Carpenter...they all walked about freely to do as they pleased. Sure, you had Jason, wherever the hell he was, and Gerry or Luke, even Craig to handle them if it came down to it but you didn't feel much relief in that because it wasn't like they were standing guard at your door 24/7. All these thoughts raced through your mind while Lee sat to read the morning paper.

"Lee...maybe...maybe Landy wouldn't mind if we stayed with him for awhile since Luke will be there until he finds his own place?" you asked as you both sat at the kitchen table eating a breakfast appetizer, consisting of Lee's favorite cereal...grape nuts.

His crunching stopped as he gave you a befuddled look.

"Ok? baby...why would you want to stay there?"

"I..I don't know. For some...extra security I suppose? I mean...Luke...he has a gun and..."

"Jo...sweetheart. What's going on? Why do you feel we need protection? Besides, Landy only has two bedrooms and...you don't like guns."

"I..I know I don't and with good reason but...I like you being alive more."

"My girl...Jo Jo...is this about your dream again?" he asked as he reached across the table and laid his hand upon yours.

"Some yes...and just everything else...everyONE else. Ethan is going to lose his shit when he realizes, if he hasn't already, that he can't contact you and that means he's going to start coming around. He tried to run us off the road for christ's sake. In broad daylight, so I can only imagine what he'll do now."

"Baby, you wanted me to do something and I did. What else can I do? A civil protection order? It's a piece of paper with NO protection and there's no proof of anything he did except make a few unwanted phone calls to even get one granted. Ethan lives to break the law. It won't stop him but I'll do it if it makes you feel better."

"Damn it!!!" you shouted and grabbed your coat as you went out to the porch swing with Lee immediately following.

"Babe, hey, hey. We'll figure this out. He hasn't even been around lately. Maybe he really likes your sister and will move on. I know, I know, that's far from comforting but as we know, stranger things have happened. You gotta admit, they're a match made in Hea...Hell." he snickered as he sat beside you and smiled.

And of course, Lee made you smile. He always could even when you didn't want to.

"Yeah...I suppose you're right and...I kind of feel Mr. Carpenter is going to be more trouble than Ethan. Gerry texted me this morning. I guess he went to the police station raising hell about what happened but Gerry said no worries, that he handled it and it just looks like it was a revenge tactic over losing the negligence claim. Gerry also did some digging on him. He's been arrested multiple times for domestic violence with the mother and alcohol was always a factor. And get this...his daughter, Henrietta, that he is so upset over...she was a victim of it as well, but would never "tell" on him?. He has a son too who's always in trouble."

"Wow...it...it almost makes me think...."

Lee stopped and stared at you in thought for a moment.

"Lee? What is it?"

"Well...it's just that...Henrietta had meningioma. It's the most common type of primary brain tumor. Most cases are benign, which hers was, but it grew quite large and became life threatening....but the thing is....there's some studies that link head trauma with this type of tumor."

"Oh my god...do you think that her own father...could have caused that?"

"I don't know Jo. I suppose it don't even matter now."

"Oh yes it does because now we know what he's capable of Lee. He's a control freak and when people like that don't have it, bad things happen. I know the kind. And...how did he know so much about all of us? A lot of what he said wasn't exactly public information."

"Yeah, you're right. My guess would be he hired a really good P.I....or....Liz?"

"I really wish I knew where Jason is right now. He could literally make it all go away. I can't believe I'm even talking like this but Mr. Carpenter's angry, he's violent, and he drinks. If he knows all of that, he knows where you live. I don't like this Lee. God, when...when Lee, will it ever end???"

Lee watched as you angrily wiped your tears away and then his eyes fell. It was killing him inside to see you so distraught. Things were supposed to better now, not worse. You were supposed to feel safe with him, not afraid. You were afraid, yes...but not for yourself.

"I'm so sorry Jo." he softly and solemnly whispered. "I should have never attacked him. I just made everything worse, but...I..I couldn't help it. I'm not a confrontational person, you know that but when he began to say things like that about you....I..I just snapped."

You brought your hand to his face which coaxed his shameful eyes up to yours.

"Hey...I'm not angry with you. You did nothing wrong baby. I wanted to do the same thing for the way he talked shit about you. He is so incredibly wrong...and I...I tried to let it go because he's grieving but you know what? Knowing what we know now, I honestly don't think it's all about that. I truly think the man is deranged and I don't think he's going to just walk away, especially now that the police won't do anything. I think he wanted you to go after him, to try and show his unwarranted claims about you. But this is not your fault Lee. I mean, you certainly didn't know Gerry was going to do what he did. Hell, neither did I. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to arrest you because he is definitely a law abiding citizen and cop."

"I appreciate what Gerry did. I really do but Jo...I still shouldn't have hit Mr. Carpenter. I let him pull me down to his level and I think it's exactly what he wanted, just as you said. I don't know Jo, who am I to judge him? I did some pretty fucked up shit when I lost Jacob and I just continued to do it all these years later. Look what I did to you?"

"The ONLY thing you will ever have in common with that man is the loss of a child. Your pain is genuine. His is like some kind of vendetta. I could see it in his eyes. There's something severely off with him and I'm usually spot on about gut feelings with people. Even Ethan. He completely rubbed me the wrong way when we met until you....I...I don't even want to talk about him anymore."

"Until I stupidly defended him? Telling you he was a good guy when I knew damn well what he was like and I kept all of that from you and I damn near lost you over it...."

"Lee, please stop punishing yourself... what he did to you...I understand it all now and...and......."

A familiar feeling rushed over you. Lightheadedness and warmth.

"Jo...baby??? Your nose..." Lee frantically said as his arm reached around you, securing you in place.

"What? Oh...oh gosh..."

You brought your fingers to your nose, in shock to feel and see the hot red liquid seeping out of it.

"Let me get you something, don't move."

"No, no Lee. I have a tissue in my pocket. It's fine. Really."

"No, it's not fine Jo. You said this happened at your mom's too. Baby, what's going on?" he direly asked as you dabbed away at the annoying and embarrassing leak.

"Tell me Jo. How long has this been happening?"

"Lee...it's just a nose bleed. You don't need to go all 'who's the doctor mode' on me."

"Don't. Don't do that. I WILL play the doctor card because that's what I am and I happen to love you as well."

You squished the kleenex against your nose and began to sob.

"I know" you squeaked. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't do that either. Don't be sorry. Come here sweet girl."

Lee pulled you into his arms, kissing your head as you continued to cry. "Here...lean your head back on my arm. I've got you."

You gazed up at him as he cradled you like a child and took over the tissue dabbing. His lips softly smiled as his shining sapphires danced inside your sunsets with such love and then he kissed the tip of your nose.

"Let me take you to the hospital. Just to be checked out."

"Lee, no. I am fine right here with you. It's stopping. I'll be fine. I'm just stressed, which is when it seems to happen."

He sighed and closed his eyes. "Here's the deal. If it happens again, I'm throwing you over my shoulder like a caveman and you're going."

You couldn't help but to burst out in laughter.

"Well you could just do that anyways and take me upstairs instead." you said with a seductive grin.

"Ohhhh....so damn tempting...but no. Babe, I think you need some rest. Come on. I'll make some hot sleepy time tea and we can snuggle on the couch with a movie and our cold pancakes and sausage, yes?"

You giggled. "Cold is better than burnt. But, yes. That sounds good. The microwave will work. You do that and I'll do the tea. I haven't managed to burn water yet."

"Is that even possible?" Lee asked with a hearty laugh as he followed you to the kitchen, pulling a hoodie on over his shirt from being chilled by the outside rain.

"We're about to find out."

Lee let out a sigh and made the sign of the cross and then flinched with a chuckle as you playfully smacked his arm.

As the water came to a boil, you thought about how much you loved these sweet little moments with him and wished it could be like that forever. No more worries, just lost in each other like high school sweethearts. You used to think challenges made you stronger but that couldn't have been further from the truth now.

You poured two cups of the piping hot herbal liquid and took them to the table as Lee finished up plating the food. During the process, you felt something trickle down your neck and heard a clinking noise on the wooden floor at your now bare feet. It was your silver chained "forever" glass seashell necklace that Lee had given you and it was just enough to set your superstitions and stress levels into high gear.

"Noooooooo...no..no..." you squealed as you knelt down to pick it up.

"Babe?? What is it??"

Lee quickly set the plates on the table and rushed to your side.

In a soft, child like whimper, your voice stuttered out as your eyes gaped with oncoming tears.

"Your...my...neck...necklace...it...it...it's...it broke...it just...fell..."

"No, no baby, it's alright. Let me see it."

Your trembling hand allowed Lee to remove it and look it over as you stood anxiously biting your bottom lip.

"My girl, it's just the clasp. I can fix it baby, don't worry." he assured you in the kindest voice and stroked your hair.

"It's not the clasp! It's the small chain links beside it. They must have snagged on my sweater. It's broken Lee! It's some fucking omen and don't tell me I'm crazy after everything."

"Jo Jo, sweetheart, please calm down. I promise you I can fix it and..."

"That's not the point! It's a symbol of forever and now it's a sign that it's broken!!" you cried, now chewing at your nails as you stared at the jinxed jewelry.

"Josie, baby! Look honey, the glass didn't break. Forever is sealed safe and sound inside. Sit down and sip your tea. I'll go fix it right now alright?"

"O...ok..." you replied in a frightened whisper and did as he told you.

Lee had only been gone a few minutes but it seemed like hours. You swore you could hear the grandfather clock ticking from clear in the other room. What the hell was happening? You couldn't relax. The sound of your heartbeat was now becoming the prominent sound, thumping through your head. You picked up your ceramic mug with unsteady hands and without thinking, you took a gulp of the boiling brew. The scold to your tongue sent you flying out of the chair and the mug shattering on the floor.

"JO!!" Lee shouted and came dashing up the stairs from the basement to find you shaking and clinging to the kitchen counter with broken shards of the mug at your bare feet.

"Baby don't move!!"

You couldn't if you wanted to. You felt paralyzed as the pressure in your head pulsed like storm waves crashing on the beach. Suddenly, Lee was hoisting you up and moving you to a dry, hazard free zone when your nose began to bleed again and you fell limp in his arms.

"Jo baby!! Baby what's wrong???!!"

When you didn't and couldn't answer him as you stared blankly into his petrified eyes, he scooped you up and rushed you out to his car, placing you into the front seat and tilting it back, then he sped off.

"Baby, can you hear me??" Lee pleaded multiple times as your eyes fluttered to stay open. His voice echoed as if it were inside of a seashell and your hand was numb to the touch of his. You heard the train horn again and saw the bright light coming towards you and then...you saw Jacob again, smiling with his big blue eyes beaming up at you as he took your hand. Then the light went dark.

"JO!! Fuck...baby wake up!!" Lee frantically shouted as his fingers raced to your neck to feel for a pulse. It was there but faint.

"That's it baby doll, stay with me!! Don't you fucking leave me. Forever baby...forever. Do you hear me?? Breathe Jo....breathe."

Lee was now fighting his sobs as he struggled to drive but he knew he had to focus to get you to the hospital safely. He freed his android from his pocket and used the voice command to call Orlando.

"Ok google, call Orlando!"

"Showing results for Orlando, Florida."

"Not fucking Florida you stupid piece of shit!" Lee shouted and then swerved as he heard the loud bellow of a semi horn and looked up to find himself in the oncoming traffic lane.

Lee whipped back into line, trying to catch his breath as he just missed the truck by only a few feet.

"Shit...focus Lee!" he scolded himself and then remembered that he didn't even have Orlando listed under his given name.

"Ok google, call LANDY!!"

"Calling Landy."

"Come on, pick up, pick up Landy!!"

"Hey what's up Lee Lee the Bee Gee."

"Lando! Man, where are you?? The hospital??"

"Yeah, Lee? What's going on?? You sound..."

"It's Jo man...I'm on my way there. She...she just collapsed."

"Oh my god what?? I'm on my way down to the ER now. Where are you?? Is she breathing??"

"Yeah..yes....thank god. I'm about ten minutes away and....no. Fuck."

"Lee??!!"

"I gotta go man, there's a fucking train coming and I have to beat it."

"Jesus, Lee. You need to calm down and....L..Lee???"

Lee dropped his phone and put the pedal to the metal on his classic Dodge Dart as the gates were starting to come down.

"Not today train. You can't have her too!!"

Over the tracks he sped, luckily with no cars in his way as the gates missed his car by merely inches. He caught sight of the train in the distance, the large headlight blinding his widened eyes as it blared it's deafening ominous horn.

"WOOHOOO! We made it baby!" Lee reeled as an adrenaline rush flooded his body. "We're going to make it. You are going to make it. I love you, do you hear me???"

The tires slid as he whipped into the emergency room parking lot and then he came to a screeching halt at the doors, quickly abandoning his car as he carried you inside.

"HELP!! Help!" Lee called out to whomever would listen as he searched for Orlando.

"Lee!!" Orlando shouted as he came running out from a room he had being prepared for you. "Bring her in here!"

Britt rushed in as well as Lee gently laid you upon the bed, scared as hell to let go of you.

"It's ok baby. I'm right here Jo Jo...you keep breathing, do you hear me?"

"Lee, tell me what happened?" Britt asked as Landy began tending to you with another nurse.

"I...I...don't know. She...she had a nose bleed. She said...she said she had one before, about a week ago. I got it to stop and she swore she was fine and she seemed fine and then she just collapsed in my arms and..."

Lee bent over to lean on his knees as he himself was trying to breathe.

"Alright. Anything else you can think of? Did she mention any other symptoms? Did she take any medications?"

"No Britt. Nothing. She's...she's stressed out, that much I know. We found more things out, disturbing things about Mr. Carpenter and that's when she got the first nose bleed today and then...I don't fucking know. Her necklace broke and she became all anxious about it and the next thing I knew, this happened. She...she just stared at me. She couldn't speak. Britt, what if she had a stroke??"

"Ok..ok. Let's not think the worst. I'm going to order labs, a CT and start an I.V. and we'll go from there. Dr. Bloom, how's her vitals?"

"Her blood pressure is high. 175/80. Oxygen is normal. Pulse rate high, pupils constricting."

"Ok. Let's get her blood work and get her on some fluids, then take her down for the CT. Lee, I need you to wait in the waiting room please, while the nurse..."

"What?? NO! I'm not leaving her Britt! Let me help. I'm a fucking doctor for christ sake."

"You're not her doctor nor are you on duty and you're in no state of mind to assist. You're too close to this Lee and you need to give the nurse room to work without you hovering. You know the rules and how this works. She's in good hands. I'm sorry but you need to let us do our jobs and go collect yourself. You're no good to her like this."

"Fuck your rules Britt. She needs to hear my voice and know I'm here! You're too close to this too, so is Landy!"

"Look...Lee. I know how much you love her, I really do, which is why you can't be objective. I love her too and I promise you she will be taken care of and we will come get you as soon as we get her situated and know what's going on. Now please...go try and calm down, maybe call her mom."

"Lee. man. I swear it. I'll take good care of her. You know I will." Orlando assured him and gave his best friend a hug, which caused Lee to break down.

"I'm scared man. I'm scared to leave her. I've never been so scared of anything in my life. I can't lose her. I can't....just...just let me talk to her for one minute. Please."

Orlando smiled and nodded as he patted Lee on the shoulder. By this time, the nurse had the I.V. line all taped up to your wrist and was drawing your blood as he went and tenderly held your other hand.

"My beautiful sweet girl. If you can hear me, I need you to know that I will just be right down the hall. I swear I will never leave you. You're my entire world so you can't leave me either ok? I love you Miss Massachusetts, in ways you've never been loved, for reasons you've never been told, for longer than you think you deserved and with more than you will ever know existed inside me. It's always been you. And I'd choose you in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you all over again."

You heard him. Every word but you couldn't open your eyes or speak, but you did manage, with everything inside of you, to lightly squeeze his hand.

Lee cried and kissed your cheek over and over and then he placed one small soft kiss upon your lips as he whispered "forever" over them. He then reluctantly let go of your hand and sobbed all the way to the empty waiting room that he was very thankful for.

He paced about the large room, stared out the window for awhile and then he was startled awake by someone's touch.

"Hey. Lee."

"Jo??...Oh....sorry. Is she..."

"She's fine, awake and has been admitted for observation." Nurse Angel, his neighbor, told him.

Lee closed his eyes and sighed loudly in relief. "Angel...what...do they know what happened? Can I see her now?"

"In just a few minutes, I'll take you down. They're just settling her into a room. I'll let them tell you what they found. I just got on duty and heard what happened, so I came looking for you at Dr. Bloom's request. He said to tell you he had your car parked and he has your keys and he will be back to see you both when he finishes rounds."

"Oh...yeah...I..I forgot all about my car. God, I don't even remember falling asleep. What time is it??"

"It's 11 am."

"Jesus, it's been two hours?? You..you said she's awake. Did you see her at all? How did she seem?"

"Well...she was sitting up and definitely asking for you, so I'm guessing she is alright, nothing too serious. Hey, I heard all about your hearing the other day. Congratulations and welcome back. We've missed you something awful. It has definitely not been the same without you here. Don't let Mr. Carpenter get to you. He's just sad. That poor man. I guess that his marriage is on the fritz. He told me a lot about Henrietta and how close they were. I couldn't imagine losing a child. Dash means everything to me. Oh god...I...I'm sorry Lee, that was so insensitive of me to say to you."

"No. It's fine. So uh....Mr. Carpenter spoke to you about her...and..his marriage??"

"Oh...I...umm. No, no. He talked a lot to all the nurses. Trust me. I just overheard things. You know, the gossip and stuff. I just wish he wasn't hell bent on making you suffer. It's such a good thing you have Jolene to help you through it all."

"It's Josie...remember? and yeah...I'm pretty much his scapegoat it seems."

"Oh gosh, that's right. I always get her name screwed up. So, what do you mean by scapegoat? I thought they ruled out any wrong doings from the autopsy and that no one caused it?"

Lee gazed at her for a moment and something began to click regarding the conversation you and he had earlier about someone leaking personal information....and Angel knew more than she should because of Liz.

"Nah, it's nothing. I don't even want to talk about this really. Can I go see Jo now?"

"Well, if you ever want to talk about anything at all, I just live right next door. I miss seeing you. So does Dash. So, yeah, come on. I'll take you to her."

Angel then led Lee out of the waiting room and down the hall, lightly rubbing his back as she did so.

The minute the door opened, Lee's anxious eyes and yours immediately connected as he paused his steps, then he bolted right to your reached out arms, both of you crying as you held each other so tight for the longest time.

"My god, my girl." Lee gasped in and kissed you all over your head and cheeks as he held your face. "Are you ok??? Please tell me nothing is wrong. I've been out of my mind. They, they wouldn't let me stay with you and....god I love you so much, I...I don't ever want to feel that way again." Lee sobbed, his tears freely flowing.

"Heyy, shhhh. I'm here. You're here. All is right again." you whispered with compassion as you also held his face and then kissed his tears.

"I'm so sorry I scared you like that. I swear Lee, I felt ok and then all of a sudden, I didn't. I don't know what happened."

"Where's Britt? Did she tell you anything? Jo, I was so scared that you had a stroke. You couldn't speak to me. and you passed out and I drove like I never did before to get you here and..."

"Baby, try to calm down. I know what you did for me. Landy told me...and...I could still hear you Lee. Your voice is what I focused on. Britt was here yes. Obviously, it's no stroke, thank god. I'm getting my fluids with added electrolytes. I was moderately dehydrated and my blood work also showed that I have an iron deficiency."

"You're anemic? Makes sense Jo. Your diet has not been the greatest lately and then there's the blood loss from the nose bleeds. Is that....all...it is?"

"Well, of course it's my anxiety and stress too. Hence my blood pressure spike, but it's normal now. Good old Britt saying I need to reduce my stress levels and take my meds. Easier said than fucking done when she don't know how much worse they make me feel, nor does she live in my world of psychotic people. And to top that off, my mom is on the way and I'm stuck here for at least another day."

"Sorry baby. I called her earlier and left a message. I...I didn't know what was going to happ..."

"Lee, it's ok. I love you so much for taking care of me and everything else. You know you saved my life."

"If I had been alone...god, I don't even want to think about it....OR the train you tried to beat."

"Yeaaah uh that...well, I DID beat it. I had to try Jo. The rails were still lowering and I could see the train and..."

"Ok, ok, enough about trains...please. I get it though...I would have done the same for you. Love makes us crazy huh?"

"Mmmm yes it does. Come here."

Lee gave you a series of soft and short deep kisses and then moved up to sit beside you, placing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest as he kissed the top of your head.

"Welp...if you're a prisoner here for another day, so am I. You're stuck with me so don't even try to make me go, for it would be futile."

You peered up in his worrisome blues with a most critical look.

"I like being stuck with you. I don't want you to go. Ever."

"What if I have to go to the bathroom."

"You giggled and kissed him. "I guess I can allow that....and maybe to go sneak me some sugar."

"Nope. It's all liver and spinach dinners for you."

"BLECKKKK!!! Lee Pace, that's not even funny. They already brought me a tray of turkey, peas, peaches, wheat bread and...wait for it...prune juice that I haven't touched. Like...I'm pretty sure I'm not constipated....now that part IS funny."

"It was just a little bit funny to see you frown that cute ass frown that I thought I'd never see again. You know? Kind of like a prune." he chuckled. "I promise, I will make you better dinners when we blow this popsicle stand, but babes, you need to eat...for me please. Especially the juice."

"I just want to go now and lay in bed with you and eat your food. I already feel better and I have my own personal doctor...you."

"Yeah well that's the fluids giving you that boost. I don't want you here anymore than you want to be here, but I really feel it is best. I can lay in bed with you here. I'll probably take up the entire bed but you can lay on top of me."

Lee's grin was deviously adorable but quickly fell flat as your mother came bursting in with her anxiety and scarlet hair a fray.

"Josephine Leeann! What in the world happened sweetheart?? I didn't see Lee's message until in the middle of my hair appointment and I had to leave looking like this!"

"Mom...mom....calm down. I'm fine as you can see."

"You're not fine! You're in a hospital bed AGAIN! How can I calm down after what happened to Jay??"

Your heart sank. Damn your brother for doing this to all of you. DID he even know you were here? You just wanted to blurt it out that he was alive, but then she would just think that you were delusional and high on meds....and it would break her heart too. You decided that Jason would have to be the one to do that....once again.

"I know Momma. But I swear...ask Lee...I'm ok."

Lee took a moment and sat with your distraught mom, filling her in on everything, in which she then seemed to relax some after his gentle way of words. She liked Lee a lot and trusted him, especially knowing your dad had once been Lee's colleague and Jacob's pediatrician. You could see the respect in her eyes and that meant the world to you....because if Margaret March didn't like someone, they would know it.

"Thank you Lee. I tell you, my kids are going to be the death of me." she said, rolling her eyes with a soft sigh.

"MOM, don't talk like that."

"Well, YOU don't have to live with Megan anymore for one thing. All that damn smoking in the house that she thinks I don't know about and in and out at all hours of the day and night like a freaking cat. The girl can't even pick up a broom to earn her keep."

"She can sure ride one though." you snarked, making Lee lower his head to hide his smirk.

"Hilarious Joey Lee. You know, nothing's the same anymore. You're gone, Jay's gone, your dad's gone. Bo's gone and Megs only cares for number one. At least one of my sisters still comes around. Livvie was asking about you the other day. Oh, and Gerry called me about Victor too. He's not doing well. I...really want to see him...but...well anyways, I'm pretty much alone anymore."

Margaret paused. You knew she would feel guilty, like she was betraying your father all over again.

"I know Mom...but you're not alone. Our family is bigger than the state of Texas even though most are scattered all around. Olivia will always be there. I'll always be there. I'm sorry I haven't been lately though. I've just had a lot going on. I was at the house last week but you weren't home."

"Yes, I know. I found your note and your half eaten sandwich that Marmaduke was about to devour when I walked in. He needs a bath, which he hates by the way and I can't handle that big oaf. Smells like a horse's ass. What's with your car in the garage anyways?"

"Its... just temporary until..."

"Until I get my garage cleaned out and then she can store it there." Lee cut in with a hidden wink at you to save you from trying to think of something other than the truth.

"I'm so glad the two of you met Lee and that you're always there for my little girl, especially today and getting her here so quickly. It's such a bonus that you're a doctor too. Maybe you can get her to take her medicine for once so this don't happen again. Oh! I saw Amy on my way in. She says she'll be in to see you and Em is coming too. I suppose Gerry is around here somewhere. I don't know if I should go see Victor or not. I told Megan but, well you know how that went."

"I don't want her here anyways. I need to be stress free, remember?? Every time I see her face, all I want to do is..."

"Ok Josephine...don't remind me how my only daughters despise each other."

"Sorry mom. You should go see Vic. Maybe it would help him if he knows you're there? It's ok mom, to do that. I know what he means to you."

"Do...you really think it might help him? I..I mean, I really would like to go."

"Go mom. Don't put these things off. I have Lee here with me and it seems it will soon be grand central station here as well cause Britt and Orlando will be here too, so I'll be ok."

"Welllll....I....I suppose I could...just for a little bit...but I'll be back Joey. I love you." she said and came to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too Ma. If Vic is awake, tell him I hope he feels better soon and please don't tell him about me being here. He don't need to be worrying about anything."

"Come on Margaret, I'll walk you out and point you in the right direction. Be right back sweetheart." Lee sweetly smiled, then mouthed 'I love you' as he led your mom out in the hall. It made you so happy to see the growing bond they had because you knew how much he missed his own mother.

"Margaret...can I...talk to you for a moment?" Lee quietly said after he closed the door.

"Sure Lee. Is everything alright? Is there something you didn't tell me about Joey?"

"Oh no, all seems to be ok now...but...I...hmmm...I umm..."

"Lee? What is it? You seem awful nervous?"

"Whew." he softly sighed, then began. "Well, I'm sure you already know what Jo means to me. But I just wanted you to hear it from me. I love her...so very deeply and I...I had one hell of a wake up call today and it put some things into perspective. Like Jo said...don't put things off. I...I can't imagine a world without her in it, without her in mine. I just don't want to waste anymore time. But I do...want to waste it with her if that makes any sense. I guess...umm....what I am trying to say is..."

Margaret interrupted with a gasp. "Oh my...why Lee...are you....are you...asking for my daughter's hand in marriage??"

Lee stared at her blankly for a moment and then a huge smile formed on his lightly trembling lips.

"I....yes....yes I am."

@redeemer46

youtube

#lee pace #lee pace fanfiction #code blue #jolee #doctors #love stories #dark fiction #dark stories #fantasies #fairytales #angst #orlando bloom #orlando bloom fanfiction #Youtube

54 notes · View notes

sleepdeprivedsimp234 · 1 year ago

Text

Really long headcanon post for the stuff that I’ve posted on Wattpad :3

Massachusetts:

-Mans is my height, 5'6, and he hates being bullied about being the shortest of his brothers lmao

-Is twins with New Jersey, though Jersey makes fun of him cuz he's five minutes younger

-he has reddish brown shoulder-length wavy hair and hazel eyes

-mf is built like the Dwayne Johnson though he's just missing the height

-TRANSMASC MASS SUPREMACY 🛐🛐

-this man acts all tough until the cramps come along. Then he's dead.

-doctor of the statehouse, along with Texas. He deals with sickness/illness whilst Texas deals with injuries. Though he can do both cuz we love that.

-tried learning how to make flower crowns cuz NY would always make them for everyone when they were younger. He tried his best, and he's actually kinda okay at it, so him and any will just hang out and make flower crowns.

-^he has put a spell on every single flower crown that he's ever given or received so that they never shrivel up and die

-OCD, autism, and ADHD

-loves rock, metal, and punk music. Especially FFDP (THEY HAVE NO BUSINESS BEING THAT FRICKIN' GOOD LIKE WHAT-)

-friends with the OG13 (no dip Sherlock-), Maine, Texas, and Louisiana.

-REFUSES TO ADMIT HE HAS A SOFT SPOT FOR NEW YORK. EVEN IF HE'S ACTIVELY HUGGING HIM. HE WILL DENY IT TILL THE DAY HE DIES. HE WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THIS DAMN KID.

-^the moment he met New York, he was filled with the urge to take him away from England immediately. He does pick favorite brothers btw. And it's New York.

-sharp lil canines like he's a friggin vampire smh

Sippi:

-he is a squishy boy and we love that <3 it just makes him better for cuddling

-he's not short, not tall, he's only 5'8.

-he's a pathetic loser tbh but we still love him

-sippi loves stuffed animals, but his favorite is a teddy bear that was given to him by New York (fun fact, teddy bears were invented in Brooklyn, and were named after the president that refused to shoot a bear!).

-he named it Mr. Cuddles, and it is the most beat up stuffed animal that he owns (as in, its ear had to be sewn back on, one of its eyes has been replaced by a button, and it has random stitches and patches all over) but he still loves it and cherishes it to this day.

-friends with (omg he has friends????) Texas, Louisiana, Florida, New York, South Carolina and Georgia

-yes yes he is but a cuddly marshmallow. Until you hurt someone he loves. Then you're dead.

-he SCREAMS whenever there's a bug. Strangely though, he likes ants, moths, and butterflies.

-mans is colorblind

-he doesn't like his squishy-ness and has tried to starve himself on numerous occasions :(

-I think that the fact that he's been owned by 3 different countries is grounds to give him abandonment issues right? Okay.

-if it weren't for his friends just simply existing, he would've been long gone by now. (same tho- I mean what?)

-I'm not gonna say he's hurt himself before, but I'm not gonna say he hasn't either 👁️👁️

-bro thinks that anybody he gets close to is gonna leave him :[

-if he gets hurt, he's not gonna bother telling anyone cuz he doesn't wanna feel like a failure for not being able to defend himself

Texas:

-this man is T A L L- he's 6'5 (not as tall as Alaska though so HA-)

-I imagine him to be very slim and fit, but he has a tiny bit of pudge around his lower stomach and hips and thighs.

-he LOVES animals so, so much. More than humans tbh.

-he has a horse (Ranger), 5 dogs (Rosco, Daisy, Cassy, Billie, and Maria. Rosco and Cassy are German Shepherds, Daisy and Billie are heelers, and Maria is a demonic chihuahua), 3 cats (Mittens, Sassy, and Milo), and 2 snakes (Spot and Harvey).

-^thats just at the statehouse. Back home, he has an animal sanctuary where he takes care of animals, takes them in, nurses them back to health, ect... It's very adorable and I love it.

-speaking of animals, he cannot, I repeat, CANNOT keep it together if an animal dies or gets hurt in a movie. Homeward Bound? Mans was not okay. Hachi? He wasn't ballin', he was bawling 😔.

-I BELIEVE IN TRANSMASC TEXAS SUPREMACY 🛐

-he still wears a binder cuz he doesn't trust the doctors to perform top surgery on him.

-ADHD for DAYS- don't give him an energy drink unless you want a 6'5 chihuahua on cocaine to be following you around.

-ADHD, autism, ocd, depression, anxiety, and ptsd. Idk if daddy issues counts, but he has those for sure.

-this bitch has fallen off of so many things that he no longer takes fall damage

-Mexico was such an asshole to poor Texas...... I wanna skin him alive :)

-Texas CANNOT handle someone raising their hand or voice at him. He can't. He will flinch and/or cry. Which he hates. Cuz he's supposed to have this reputation as the big strong Lone Star State.

-he has SH scars on his wrists, sides, and thighs. They vary from blade marks, to cigarette burns, to even scratches.

-he hates all of his scars so, so much and sees them as nothing but a sign of his weakness and inability to defend himself.

-Texas is also kinda insecure about the little bit of pudge on his lower belly, hips, and thighs. What makes it worse is that he can't really help it. Especially the stomach pudge cuz that's just where his uterus is. Does he know this? Yes. Is he still insecure? Yes.

-he often binds too long or forgets that he has his binder on until it's too late and there is severe bruising and even minor bleeding underneath the band. Along with breathing difficulties.

-^to make the breathing difficulties thing worse, he has asthma :)

——————

#welcome to the table #welcome to the statehouse #ben brainard #wttt #wttsh #wttt massachusetts #wttsh massachusetts #wttt mississippi #wttsh mississippi #wttt texas #wttsh texas

21 notes · View notes

fireylesbianhell · 2 years ago

Text

i’m having thoughts about my boy

sorry newsies moots but it’s solace time baby

• William Andrew Solace was born in Texas but has tempratlily lived in and been too; New Mexico, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Nevada, California, Washington, New York, and later on in life Massachusetts and Maine. The only states he vividly remembers when he was young was New Mexico and Nevada, as they spent the longest time there besides Texas.

• Will left to camp when his mother stopped in new york and a monster attack very close to camp happened and the nearest satyr recognized him as a half-blood, dragging him with the other demigods (i headcannon one of them was Drew And that’s how those two met) and was introduced. He found his mother again and was able to stay there after some plot stuff i will flesh…later.

• cat person he is such a cat person he’s a golden retriever boy yes but he’s a cat person i’m sorry i’m right i am i know him he told me

• Will did get bullied when he went to a public school for a short time in new Mexico for being/acting “Gay” and it stuck with him a bit as he was worried what camp half blood would be like. but the camp was very friendly and he adapted fairly quickly after his siblings supported his coming out

• Will is Bi to me, and i feel he figured out fairly easily. Naomi wasn’t as religious as her parents and her traveling gave her a wider world veiw, so she wasn’t exactly homophobic but didn’t really let will know gay people existed. he kinda just got context clues along the way.

• Will came out to naomi when he was 14 and she accepted him, after some suprise and tears. it was confusing for both of them but she wasn’t angry.

• Will goes though whipped cream like a maniac. he puts it on everything. everything. i don’t know where i got this headcannon from but it’s mine now it’s my baby his favorite dessert is literally just reddi whip striaght into his mouth and nico is always absoloutley horrified whenever he finds his boyfriend straight up drinking reddi whip out of the fridge after a late night at the hospital wing.

• WORKAHOLIC!! BIGGEST WORKAHOLIC!!! EVER!!! does NOT take breaks does NOT talk about his own feelings. major case of therapist friend with no therapy

• Nico summons skeletons to help will with studying sometimes, hey, it’s better than a textbook

• Due to all the Shit He’s Seen, will isn’t really freaked out by nico or macabre at all. as to contrast, nico hates medical stuff and finds it kinda freaky

• Will has a very Work for what you get attitude and seeing his mother scrape by and work herself up made will similarly hardworking, independent and self sufficient. But he’s also a stubborn bastard who would rather take and remove a bullet then let someone help him either work wise or financially. It got even worse as he became the head of his cabin so much younger with so many younger kids to take care if

• Living in new mexico for as long as they did Naomi decided it was a good idea to have will learn at least some spanish when he was young and he picked up on it nicely, and decided to continue. he’s fairly fluent now and loves freaking Leo out all the time by talking to him in spanish when nobody else is around and he can’t prove it.

• Did also have a minor crush on percy, but mostly as a “woah look at that guy holy shit” and loved teasing annabeth about it (“If YOU love him so much why do you want us to get her together?” “nooo you guys are my OTP i’m not having that up just because he’s hot” <- COMPLETELY REAL INTERACTION THEY E HAD MHM TRUST ME BRO)

• Wants to pick up on some italian so he can do the same thing he does with leo to nico

• TRANSGENDER AND AUTISTIC IM NOT ELABORATING FUCK YOU ( i do have reasons but this is more fun)

• Favorite vide game is a tie between tetris and Majoras mask

• Favorite TV show was Malcom in the Middle as a kid and now is greys anatomy /j/j/j/j but i can gaurentee he hate watches it with the apollo cabin all the time

• Suprisingly fine with plants, yes sunflowers do look at him and everyone makes fun of him for it

okay i’m done (i’m a liar i’m not done but i am about to pass out sooo)

#will solaceblr #will solace #pjo #hoo #toa #Solangelo #Apollo cabin #cabin 7 #william andrew solace #tsats #pjo headcannons

90 notes · View notes

k-evans-reads · 2 years ago

Text

In Living Color

Chapter 13 - Part Two

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 6,838

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: Discussions about death.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

October 29th, 2021

“Okay so tell me again who’s going to be there tonight?” Nat asked, her fingers tapping against her denim jeans as they rode in his SUV to Sudbury. It was early in the evening on her first full day in Massachusetts with Chris, and after sleeping in for a bit they’d taken Dodger for a walk around Chris’ home and on the trails behind his home before they each sat at his kitchen table with their computers, catching up on some work they needed to do. Once the clock had struck two in the afternoon, they consciously put their devices away, wanting to enjoy the weekend without any of their work duties hanging over their heads.

“Obviously Ma,” he reminded her as he stopped, then looked side to side at the four-way intersection before he resumed their drive. “And then my oldest sister Carly and her husband and kids will be there, and my little sister Shanna and her fiance.”

Nat’s brows furrowed, glancing over at Chris as he adjusted the hat on his head with one hand. “I thought Tara was going to be there too,” she recalled.

He shook his head, turning on the turn signal and shifting into the turn lane just before they reached a large neighborhood. “Nah, I thought it might be better to keep it just family. Ma is dying to meet you,” he admitted, slowly turning the wheel and slowing down appropriately as they passed houses, heading deeper into the neighborhood. She glanced into the backseat, smiling to herself as she watched Dodger’s tail wag as he began to recognize the passing homes.

Her hand moved to take his left as he turned onto a street. With each house they passed, she tried to imagine which was Lisa’s – which home was the one he grew up in and spoke so fondly of. “I’m excited to meet them but I’m not going to lie, I’m really nervous,” she chuckled, just as Chris slowed down more and turned into a long driveway, fallen leaves covering the pavement in front of the car. In the backseat, Dodger sat up, his tail thumping the backseats excitedly as Chris turned the car off.

“Don’t be, baby. They’re going to love you,” he murmured reassuringly and squeezed her hand. “Besides, they’ve already heard a lot about you from me and Scott.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Nat muttered as she unbuckled her seatbelt, ready to climb out of the car but was stopped when a warm hand came to rest on her leg.

Nat turned her head, looking at Chris’ soft blue eyes gazing at her for a long moment before he leaned across the center console to kiss her deeply, leaving her with a soft smile on her face when he pulled back and assured her, “It’s going to be just fine, Nat.”

“I hope so,” she replied, adjusting her brown suede jacket as she frowned slightly.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice quiet but capturing her attention. He waited until she met his eyes, then told her, “I love you, Nattie.”

“I love you too,” she smiled, leaning across to peck his lips quickly.

And although that reassurance brought comfort to her heart as Nat climbed out of the car, taking Chris’ outstretched hand before they walked up the pathway to the front door with Dodger, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit sick to her stomach. She knew just how close Chris was to each and every member of his family, having a deep and meaningful relationship with all of them, but that only made it even more nerve-wracking.

It was different when she had met Scott, knowing him so early on back when her and Chris were just friends and she had no idea what was in store for the two of them. But now it was different. It had been months of them dating at this point – nearly half a year – and Nat was in so deep for Chris. She knew that she loved him like nobody else, her whole heart belonging to him without a second thought, but the knowledge of that fact coupled with knowing how dedicated he was to his family only made this more terrifying.

She knew if his family didn’t like or get along with her, there was no way this was going to work out. Although he had never even hinted at such a thing, she knew it because of how she felt about her family. She knew that anyone that didn’t get along with her family was a relationship that wouldn’t turn out well in the long run, and Nat knew that would be true with Chris and his family, only making their approval of her that much more important.

Nat could feel that knot in her stomach as they approached the front door, Chris unlocking it with his key and rested his hand on the small of her back as he guided her through the doorway while Dodger trotted in behind. She could hear the sound of loud voices but felt like she could hear the sound of her rapid heartbeat even louder than all of it. Chris helped her off with her coat, hanging it on the small hook by the door before he did the same with his own and then brought his hand back to it’s spot on her back as he led her down the short hallway to the living room where she saw it full of faces she’d only seen in pictures before.

The room was loud and chaotic, everyone talking over each other and laughing but Chris’ voice became the loudest as his voice boomed a loud hello before the kids came running over to throw their arms around him. For just a moment, Nat forgot all about her nerves, her focus being pulled away as she just enjoyed watching the pure joy that was shining on Chris’ face. Although she hadn’t been in Massachusetts long, she could see just how different Chris was here.

She hadn’t even realized just how much more of his anxiety and tenseness was evident in California. It had always seemed to disappear once they were behind the closed doors of his home or in her apartment, but there seemed to be a weight off his shoulders and a lightness in him that she felt her heart warm at being able to see. It was obvious to see the deep love the family all shared as she looked around the room and it reminded her that the Chris he was when he was alone with her, or here with his family, was the true person he was, not the professional demeanor and guarded way he had to be at times, and that this was the guy she was madly in love with.

Nat couldn’t have felt more welcomed by his family members, it was as if she’d known them for years as his sisters and mother came over, greeting her with huge hugs and excited smiles as they finally met each other. She introduced herself to the kids, smiling when they barely batted an eye and took off into another room with Dodger in tow. She took his older sister up on her offer of a glass of wine, accepting the stemless glass of red gratefully as she saw Chris do the same with a beer, then she followed the Evans siblings into the living room with their mother.

She smiled as she was introduced to the sisters’ partners in the living room, hugging both of the men before they all settled on the large couch and armchairs around the television while a basketball game played on the television. She chuckled quietly and shared a smile with Chris as they heard the kids laughing echo down the hall and into the room, along with an excited bark from Dodger.

“We figured if you were going to spend the evening with us that you’d need some wine,” Carly smiled at her as she settled on the couch next to her husband, Kevin.

“What are you talking about? She’d only need it if Scott was here,” Shanna asked with a laugh, gratefully accepting her glass of water as her fiance, Daniel, handed her it.

Carly smirked as she looked at the youngest Evans, reminding her sister, “She’s dating Chris so she needs it.”

“Well the first time I met Nat was her slamming into a glass door and the first time Scott saw her she had locked herself in her apartment so I think Nat wins the award for the most chaotic in this relationship,” Chris informed his family with a chuckle as he took a sip of his beer.

Nat shrugged half-heartedly, raising an eyebrow as she told him, “I have to keep your life interesting.”

Nat smiled when she saw the way he smirked at her, before lifting her wine glass to her lips as Chris dove into starting telling a story to his family loudly. She wanted to laugh to herself at how much Chris reminded her of Dodger in the moment, looking like an excited puppy dog as his hands started motioning wildly, managing to smack Nat’s arm and making her wine glass clinking against her teeth before the wine sloshed onto her white shirt.

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Nattie,” he instantly apologized, rushing to grab some of the cocktail napkins from the coffee table as she looked down at the now-soaked and stained shirt.

Daniel laughed, grabbing more napkins while Carly rushed into the kitchen, returning quickly with a roll of paper towels. “Looks like you might want to take it back about not being the chaotic one in the relationship,” he reminded Chris.

“You really had to do this while I was in a white shirt?!” Nat asked Chris incredulously, accepting a wad of paper towels from Carly. She handed Chris the glass of wine and began dabbing her shirt, frowning as she saw the damage he’d done.

“C’mon, it’s not like you would have made it longer than an hour without spilling yourself,” Chris murmured sarcastically, taking the roll of towels from Carly as Lisa offered to grab her a shirt.

“Wow, you made me spill, and probably chipped my front teeth and now you’re making fun of me?”

He huffed, rolled his eyes and told her, “You did not chip your teeth.”

“You don’t know that,” Nat pointed out, getting up to find a trash can for the soaked towels. “I think they feel loose. My gums are probably bleeding too, thanks to you.”

“But you’re not dramatic at all,” Chris called from behind her.

“Be careful buddy, this is your fault so you better be nice to me,” Nat replied as she found a trash can, disposing of the towels and turned, shooting him a look from across the open space.

“Christopher, go get her something to wear,” Lisa interrupted their mock-argument by giving her son a look.

She saw Chris nod before holding his hand out for her, but Nat just raised an eyebrow as she looked at his hand, asking, “I’m not sure if I should touch you. That didn’t end well for me last time.”

There wasn’t a verbal response from him as they rounded the corner of the hallway but she felt his heavy hand delivering a swift playful smack to her ass, making her laugh as they began to climb the stairs. Once they reached the top of the stairs, she let Chris pass her so he could lead her to the room on the right saying, “Welcome to childhood Chris’ room.”

“Wow, you really weren’t kidding when you said you were a dork as a teenager, were you?” Nat laughed as she looked around the room. It obviously wasn’t a perfect relic of the past, instead being a representation of the mix between his childhood room and one he’d stayed in throughout the years as an adult during visits home. But there were still posters on the walls that he’d clearly chosen as a teenager, beat-up furniture with random stickers on it, and books and the random pieces of his childhood scattered throughout.

He shot her a look as he shut the door behind them, asking her, “You really are just asking for me to smack that cute ass of yours again, aren’t you?”

“I might be,” she shrugged.

She saw his left eyebrow shoot up as a sultry grin crossed his lips, muttering, “I’m going to have to remember that.”

“So are you going to let me get out of this shirt you ruined or what?” Nat asked as she gestured at the wet fabric clinging to her, the sweater now uncomfortable as the wine spread through it.

He shrugged, smirking as she pulled the soaked sweater off of her and rested it on the well-worn wooden desk underneath a window. “I’m kind of a fan of you getting out of any shirt,” Chris began, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

“Will you just get me a shirt already?!”

He turned with a smirk to the closet in front of him, opening the door as he sorted between random clothes his mother had wanted to keep, overflow jackets and dressed, to finally old sweatshirts of his. “Oh here’s a gem,” he smirked, pulling a hanger out with a black sweatshirt on it. “I’ve still got an old sweatshirt from high school.”

“At this point I don’t care, I just want something dry,” she admitted.

Chris closed the closet after grabbing the black sweatshirt off the hanger but when he turned around and Nat saw the way he was looking at her, she knew she wasn’t getting that piece of clothing right away. She watched him come closer as he wrapped his arms around her waist, his warm hands resting on the bare skin of her back. His movements were slow and methodical as he pressed a kiss to her cheek before trailing them down her neck and started to pepper them across the bare skin of her chest, his beard tickling her skin but his actions making her feel warm from the inside out.

“You better cool it, because I’m not going to let you fuck me with your family downstairs and a Sandra Bullock poster staring at me,” she breathed, her hands slipping into his hair as her eyes slipped shut.

Although she felt him chuckle against her skin, he just kept kissing as he tenderly said, “I just love you Nattie, and my family loves you already. I can tell.”

She let out a breath as he kept peppering her skin with kisses, admitting to him, “I think your family is just really nice.”

“They are,” he agreed easily, but soon his eyes opened and he met her gaze. “But trust me, I know you’ve won them over already, although you seem to do that with everyone pretty quickly.”

“I really like them too Chris,” she confessed, her hand raking through his hair as he rose to his full height, looking down at her. “And I like seeing you with them. You’re so happy when you’re here.”

“There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here with my family and with you,” he easily agreed, finally handing her the sweatshirt. She slipped it over her frame and put the sweater back into her hands, following him downstairs as they heard the sounds of plates being put down and the kids cheering in the kitchen. She slipped the sweater into her bag before she followed Chris’ lean frame and joined his family at the table.

They all laughed and traded stories while they ate pizzas from a local place in town. Nat couldn’t help but want to laugh at herself for how nervous she was just an hour ago, when she now felt as though she’d known the family her whole life. She was so comfortable around them and greatly enjoyed hearing the various embarrassing stories about Chris from his childhood, watching as he ranged from laughing along with the stories to blushing and staying quiet.

They stayed around the table for a while, before Carly, Kevin, the kids, Shanna, and Daniel headed out to their respective homes for the rest of the night. She was sad to see them go, having enjoyed their time together, but soon her attention was drawn to the thick albums in Lisa’s hands as she came back into the kitchen and headed to where Chris and Nat were sitting at the island.

“Ma, don’t bring out the photo albums!” Chris groaned as he leaned back in his barstool. “Save that at least for the second visit.”

But Lisa waved him off, setting them down as she replied, “With Nat living all the way in Burbank, I think it’s only fair she gets to see them now, and besides, we have to make up for the fact that we’re only just now meeting.”

“Yeah I agree with that,” Nat laughed, taking a sip of Chris’ beer as she watched the mother and son bicker.

“Of course you would,” Chris muttered, reaching down to pet Dodger before the dog moved to the living room. “You just want dorky pictures of me as a kid to hold over my head.”

“I already have plenty of dorky pictures of you as an adult.”

“Remind me again why I brought you here?” He asked sarcastically, smirking as she smacked his shoulder lightly.

Lisa moved the albums in front of Nat, waving a hand towards Chris as she told him, “Go watch the game or something, I want to show these to Nat.”

“No way, I want to see what you’re showing her,” he shot back, taking a long swig from his beer as the first album opened in front of her, with baby pictures right in front of her.

“I just want to show Nat my sweet boy,” Lisa happily said, eyes locked on the page of pictures before she looked at her oldest son.

Although Nat was busy looking down at the first page of pictures, she saw out of the corner of her eye the way that Lisa turned to kiss Chris’ cheek before his thick arm came around her back, his hand resting on her shoulder, the small movement showing the deep love and affection between them before they all started looking at the glossy photographs in the album.

She loved getting to look through all the pages, seeing snippets of Chris’ childhood and hearing the happy memories shared by both Lisa and Chris as they went through each and every page. It was something Nat loved, getting to know him even deeper throughout the experience and learning about his growing up years that were stuffed full of wonderful stories. But as she watched them flip through page after page, she noticed just how many photos there were of Chris and Lisa together or how he was hanging on her even in group photos. In the center of all of these photos, she could see just how much the kids adored their mother, and it made Nat realize that these were all the types of photos that she didn’t have growing up, the spot of her mother having gone empty for nearly her entire life.

Nat tried to push the thoughts from her mind, not wanting to dwell on her unresolved feelings and instead easily fell back into listening to all the memories shared between mother and son as they worked their way through each one of the albums. It was dark by the time they had finished them all, not having missed a page as Lisa stacked them back on top of each other and asked, “So Nat, you’re going back to California on Sunday, right?”

“Yeah I couldn’t get any more time off. With the holidays coming up, we’re pretty busy this time of year,” she admitted sadly. She would’ve loved to stay in this bubble with him, hearing and learning all about his past from the very people who raised him, but the looming departure of her return flight was hanging over her at every turn.

“I’m glad you were able to come out. It was so wonderful to finally get to meet you,” Lisa confessed honestly, her hand squeezing Chris’ shoulder from where it rested over his flannel shirt.

Chris looked at Nat, meeting her eyes as they shared a smile. “I feel the same way,” she admitted to Lisa.

And Nat knew just how true that was. Although she had walked into this house hours earlier with a knot in her stomach, she left feeling the warmth of being invited into the Evans family so easily. She followed Chris and Dodger into the car, letting the silence of the moment hang as they headed back to his home together. He yawned as they pulled into the garage and slowly made their way into the house, and chatted back and forth a few times until they reached the kitchen.

She headed into the pantry to get Dodger a scoop of food while Chris grabbed them each a beer from the fridge. She reached into the bag of food with the scoop, getting enough before she headed back into the kitchen while Chris told her, “You really are special Nattie, no other girlfriend has gotten the baby pictures on day one of meeting my Ma.”

“Well I’m glad that I got the special privilege of seeing all the photographic evidence of your bowl cut,” she laughed as she poured the food into Dodger’s bowl, then got the dog more water as well. “And the special privilege of you ruining my sweater.”

He groaned and shook his head, eyes narrowing as she headed back into the pantry to put the scoop away. “You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Have you ever let me live down when I locked myself in my apartment?” She asked loudly as she put the scoop away and closed the bag of food, then came out of the pantry. “Or when I had that squirrel chase me? Or when I fell in that bush?”

“That’s because those were such memorable things,” he laughed as he reached for a bottle opener, popping the top of their beers off.

“I’m trying not to remember them,” she chuckled, turning off the light and shutting the door to the pantry as she came back into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry, I’ll help remind you if you do forget,” he smirked as his eyes found her and he handed her a beer.

Nat playfully glared at him as he just chuckled while turning his back to her, letting her reach out to smack his firm backside, only making him smirk as he looked over his shoulder and wondered, “I thought you were the one who enjoyed that… or were you just teasing?”

“I guess that’s something you’ll have to find out for yourself,” she shrugged, a smirk spreading across her lips.

All she could do was laugh when he sent her a flirty smile and a wink before she put her beer back down on the marble countertops and passed him again. She was washing her hands at the sink, staring out the window at the trees in his dark front yard before her brows furrowed and she noticed the picture sitting on the windowsill, one of him and Lisa at Disney World when he was a young boy, for the first time next to a plant.

She tried to think if that was one of the many photos she’d looked at earlier, but couldn’t seem to remember it, only adding it as another to the list of the tons of photos of the pair together. Nat felt those same feelings from earlier start to swarm inside her, seeing some of what she’d missed out on growing up, but she did her best to ignore them as she had for many years.

“Oh Nattie, my dad said he really wants to meet you the next time you’re in town,” Chris told her, his voice quiet as he scrolled on his phone and sat down at the butcher block island. “He would have loved to meet you this time but he’s at a conference this weekend and doesn’t get back until after you leave.”

She nodded, her mind a bit far away as she stared at the picture in front of her, her mind racing with overwhelming thoughts. “I’d like to meet him too,” she told Chris.

And although Nat’s words were honest, with the emotions that were currently swirling, she couldn’t help but be reminded how Chris even as an adult had both of his parents heavily involved in his life… something Nat never had the chance of having. Her eyes stayed fixed on that picture in the window, just staring at the happy faces and Lisa’s arms tightly around the little Chris. A pain in her chest began to ache and tears started stinging at her eyes the longer she looked.

“Nattie? Baby, what’s wrong?” Chris asked, his voice suddenly closer. She felt his hand tentatively touch her back before she shuddered, a hand coming up to wipe her tears away before her arm wrapped around herself again.

“I…” she hesitated, unsure if she finally could speak about the very thing she’d been suppressing nearly her entire life. “I don’t have any pictures like this.”

Chris gently turned her to look at him, eyes worried and confused as he asked her, “What do you mean?”

“I don’t have any pictures of me and my mom,” she whispered, her voice tiny and anxious, her eyes dropping to stare at their feet.

“Oh Nattie,” he breathed, his arms moving to wrap around her tentatively. She felt the tears spill down her cheeks quickly as she hugged him back, burying her face into his chest as she cried openly.

His hand moved up and down her back as she cried into his black tee, practically clinging to him. As he whispered reassurances and comforted her, she straightened up, wiping the remaining tears away before she washed her hands again, busying herself with putting away a few of the now-dry dishes from their lunch.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, his voice quiet and concerned as she fiddled around the kitchen. Tears continued burning her eyes as she did so, but she focused on putting the plates and pans away from their meal.

“I’m okay, sorry,” she shrugged, avoiding his eyes as she put the few utensils away in the drawer. “I guess I just had an emotional moment. I’m probably still tired from the flight.”

He sighed, and she snuck a glance at him and saw the deep frown on his concerned face. “Nattie,” he paused, choosing his words carefully. “I think we need to talk about this.”

She frowned, staring at the ground as she listened to Chris’ words. She never felt comfortable or safe enough with anyone – even with Shane – to share these fears and feelings with them before. With Chris it was different, she trusted him implicitly, and she knew he’d never judge her. But it didn’t mean it still didn’t scare her, to be opening up something she’d kept locked away for nearly the last thirty-one years.

Her fears were brought right to the surface when he, slightly unexpectedly, asked her, “Why do you not want to talk about your mom?”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning the small of her back against the marble countertop. “It’s not that I won’t talk about her, I just don’t even remember her so there just isn’t much to talk about,” she told him. She had no memories of her mother, no firsthand knowledge of what she looked like when she smiled, what her laugh sounded like, what she smelled like… not even how it felt to hug her. These were all things everyone else took for granted, something that was as easy as breathing to them, whereas she had nothing.

“C’mon Nat, you know that there’s a lot of feelings that go with what happened,” Chris insisted, his voice firm. “Your mom dying when you were what? Three? That’s a big deal.”

“I was almost two,” she corrected with a whisper.

“Just because you don’t have memories of her doesn’t mean you don’t have feelings about her.”

She felt the burning of his gaze on her and shrugged, unable to explain how she felt in a way that anyone would understand. “I don’t know,” she whispered, her voice quiet.

He let out a frustrated sigh, his voice confused when he pointed out, “This isn’t like you, Nat.”

“What?”

“How you’re acting right now. It’s not like you to not deal with your feelings or not even be willing to talk about them,” he paused, waving a hand in her direction before he shook his head. “There’s obviously some reason you won’t.”

She sighed, frowning as she insisted, “It’s nothing Chris, it’s fine. You’re trying to make this out to be a big deal and it’s not.”

“Yes it is because you won’t say more than two words about it,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared at her. “C’mon, just tell me what’s going on. Just say it. Say how you’re feeling.”

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m being disrespectful or ungrateful to my dad if I do, though,” she finally admitted, shifting her weight on her feet before she leaned against the cabinet again.

“Why do you feel that way? How is it being ungrateful to your dad if you have feelings about your mom?”

“Because you don’t understand what he did for my sisters and me,” she confessed, a lump in her throat and tears spilling down her cheeks. She saw Dodger jump onto the couch in the living room just off the kitchen, reaching a hand up to wipe the tears away as they blurred her vision. “My dad was heartbroken over my mom and still is. He had to watch his wife that he adored waste away to nothing because of cancer and then had to figure out how to raise three girls on his own and he did an incredible job. He did everything in his power to fill the role of both parents and I couldn’t ask for a better dad.”

“I know that, Nattie,” he murmured, hesitating before he slowly crossed the short distance between them. He leaned against the side of the island in front of her, holding a hand out to grasp her own. “I know how wonderful your dad is and how much you love him, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t miss what you never got a chance to have.”

“It just feels like that though,” she whispered with a shaking voice.

“Why?” He asked, genuinely confused. “Nat, I want you to tell me. I want you to say out loud what you’ve been bottling up inside.”

“It feels like I don’t have a right to miss her or be sad about the fact she’s gone,” Nat began, feeling herself relax a bit as Chris squeezed her hand gently. “My dad, Heather, and Alex… they all remember her and miss her, but if it wasn’t for pictures I wouldn’t even know what she looked like.”

He nodded, nothing but understanding and concern on his face. “It is a different loss for you than it is for them, but it doesn’t mean your loss is less. You have to grieve someone you didn’t get a chance to know,” he reminded her.

“It’s just weird,” she told him with a frown, her eyes staring at his chest. “Like I don’t have that connection that they all have to her… I don’t even know how to explain it. This person who was a huge influence in their lives is someone that I can’t even remember.”

The frown on his face grew as he listened to her, asking, “Nattie… have you ever told your family any of this?”

“No,” she replied quietly. “My dad still misses her so much and my sisters do too. I don’t think any of them would understand, and I think telling them how in certain ways I don’t feel that same connection they do would just hurt them.”

“So you’ve just been keeping all of this in your whole life?”

“I just don’t feel like anybody gets what it’s like,” she chuckled bitterly, reaching up to wipe her tears away with her spare hand. “And the only people who do are my family, but if I talk to them, I’m only going to make their pain worse.”

“Nattie, I’m so sorry,” he breathed, standing up straight and moving closer to her, his hand shifting from holding her hand to instead rest on her hip. “I’m sorry that you lost your mom and I’m sorry you had to watch your family hurt. I wish I had the right thing to say or an easy answer to all of this but I don’t. The only thing I do know is that it’s not going to get better by keeping it all inside.”

“I know, it’s just not easy to talk about it,” she shrugged, quiet as his thumb moved side to side underneath the sweatshirt on her bare skin. “I don’t even know how it makes me feel half the time.”

“I think talking about it would help you be able to sort it out easier,” he suggested, his voice calm and quiet. “I think you just need to give yourself permission to be sad. Your loss is different from your sisters’, but it doesn’t mean you didn’t have a loss. There was a hole in your life and it’s okay to be sad about that. I’m sad about it for you.”

“...I am sad,” she finally admitted. She’d been masking it for years and it’d been easier this past year as she’d grown closer with Chris, having something to look forward to every day, but it was still below the surface with each passing moment, stronger at some and quieter at others. “I think sometimes I can forget about it and I’m so thankful I got to have and still have so many great memories with my dad and my sisters, but then I see things like I did tonight with you and your mom and I just… I’m sad I never got the chance to have that.”

His frown deepened at her words and he gently pulled her towards him, giving her a chance to pull away but she reached for him as well, wrapping her arms around him as he hugged her tightly. He rocked her side to side slowly, helping to pull out all of the tension built up in her body. It felt so good to finally be able to give voice to the feelings that had plagued her so long, and have her words fall on understanding and loving ears. She hadn’t expected to be dealing with all of these feelings being brought up by seeing Chris’ loving mother, but Nat knew that she’d be better in the long run for starting to tackle some of them. Although that ended up being something that didn’t surprise her too terribly much, knowing that ever since she’d gotten with Chris, all he’d done was make her life better.

After several moments of nothing being said between them, he tilted his head down to look at her and asked, “Want to go to bed?”

“Yeah,” she agreed, taking a deep breath as they pulled apart. “Chris?”

“Hmm?” He asked, distracted as he let Dodger out one last time before he grabbed both of their since-abandoned beers, draining them in the sink before he put them in the recycling.

She smiled a little, watching as he sprung into action while she still was trying to find the energy to wipe her eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he grinned, rinsing his hands and drying them off before he moved back over to her. “I’m always here for you, Nattie.”

“I know,” he smiled, his eyes flicking down to her lips before she leaned up on her toes, pressing their lips together. “I love you…even if you did chip my teeth tonight.”

He rolled his eyes as Dodger barked outside, scratching at the glass door. “How many more times are you going to bring that up before we even get to bed?” He asked loudly as he stepped out of their embrace and let the dog in, locking the door once it shut.

“Oh at least a few more,” she smirked. After getting a glass of water, she led Chris and Dodger down the hall to his bedroom, yawning as the long, exciting, and emotional day caught up with her.

Chris hopped in the shower while she washed her face and brushed her teeth, meeting her in his bed with damp hair and a pair of sweatpants on his hips. With one soft instruction, Dodger moved to the foot of the bed and Chris slipped below the covers next to Nat.

They were quiet as the minutes ticked by, with Chris reading an email on his phone while Nat watched Dodger, reaching down to scratch his ears with a smile. Her mind kept racing while he had been in the shower, and it didn’t seem to be slowing down anymore. She was determined to take his words to heart, wanting him to see she was trying to be more open about these things, and finally began, “I always hated Mother’s Day.”

His brows furrowed, but he didn’t seem surprised at her words as he locked his phone and plugged it into the charger on his nightstand. “Really?” He asked, turning to give her his full attention.

She nodded, watching as he moved closer to her, laying on his side. “At school we’d always make something for it, you know, like a poem or card or something,” she paused, and he nodded, likely having experienced the same. “And I just remember in first grade sitting at our desks and the teacher telling us that we were all making a card for our mom’s and then she looked at me and said ‘And Natalie, you can make one for your Dad’ and I cried so hard my dad had to come pick me up from school.”

Chris’ face fell and his eyes turned angry – not at her, but for her – as he listened to those words. “Nattie, I can’t imagine how hard that was for you,” he whispered, his hand resting on her hip for a moment before it slid underneath the old sweatshirt of his she’d kept on, rubbing back and forth on her bare skin again comfortingly. She slid closer to him, her hand coming to rest in his drying hair before it slipped down to his shoulder.

“After that my Dad always let me stay home that Friday before Mother’s Day so that I would have to sit through making a craft for a mom I didn’t have,” she recalled, forcing the lump in her throat to go away as she didn’t want to get emotional again. “I just hated that I didn’t get to have what everyone else had.”

“I wish I had a way to make it better,” he admitted, his voice wavering as his anger was still evident. He tilted his head to look up at her, giving her a sad smile as he assured her, “All I can say is that I’m sorry, I’m here for you, and I love you.”

“That’s all I need.”

He grinned, leaning up to press their lips together before he told her he loved her, then slid back over onto his side to turn the lamp off just as Nat did the same. They found each other as they laid back down, with Chris on his back and Nat, laying on her right side, laid her head on his bare chest.

As she rested her hand on his chest and listened as he yawned, then began to fall asleep, she couldn’t help but feel that this peace, this comfort she’d always associated with being around Chris, around her safe person…. Instead was a feeling of being home.

Home would always be partially in Washington due to her family and upbring, but Chris… Chris was starting to feel like home. He was where she laughed the loudest, smiled the brightest, and felt the happiest, no matter where they were and who they were around. Chris was the only consistency in that equation and as she realized that fact, the slowing beat of his heart under her ear and the longer and deeper breaths he took as his chest rose and fell was all she needed to remind herself that right now, her home was right here in this bed with him.

A/N: We hoped you enjoyed this chapter! It is very close to our hearts and we can't wait to hear your thoughts!

144 notes · View notes

stone-age-brownie · 2 days ago

Text

When in doubt, look for Freedom

Prologue

art by @drovenna Synopsis - Overview and backstory of what has happened in the Commonwealth of Massachusetts after the atomic bombing in 2077

Wordcount - 593 words

Summer.

Prologue

The dream is hazy and I know it’s a dream because I have seen this before.

I have been here before, wearing a pretty dress with my hair up, cradling my son as I sit on a chair that costs more than my entire wardrobe. My husband is up there, accepting a medal for his service, he starts his speech.

War. War never changes.

He hates it. He hates how war has become an industry, generation after generation in his family has been roped into it. We spend night after night trying to get the baby to sleep, and he wonders out loud, often not noticing he is speaking and not merely think, if our son will be sucked into it as well.

He didn’t want to be part of it, when w first met, but the only way to make sure that his family is safe is to go and fight for them on the frontlines, by pouring his life into it.

I hold my son a little tighter. I stood by him when the letter inviting us to his celebration arrived, as he wrote his speech months ago. I saw him practice it over and over for days, in the morning during his daily routine. That cut on his chin still red from when his hand shook a little today, as he recited one last time before the big speech.

It is now the year 2077. We stand on the brink of total war, and I am afraid. For myself, for my wife, for my infant son- because if my time in the army taught me one thing:

It is a pretty dream. When the speech ends we go home, and we are safe, but not this time, it changes.

It changes as I hear alarms go off, as we are ushered to an underground bunker.

I lose my husband in the crowd; my son disappears from my arms.

I finally awake to someone shaking me, the dream still has its clutches on me.

That’s not exactly what happened that day, we never made it to the ceremony. It was early morning, we were still at home, my husband still with a speck of shaving cream on him when-

‘Nora? You need to go your shift is about to start.’

I rise.

‘You were mumbling in your sleep by the way, something about how-’

War never changes.

2077, the bombs do fall. After years and years of this threat, judgement day comes. The aftermath sees new factions emerge.

The Brotherhood of Steel, who takes control of the wastelands. The build quarantine zones for civilians, scanning everyone for radiation sickness. Those too sick are turned away or killed onto the spot. Even non-feral ghouls aren’t allowed in.

A new threat arises, it’s the year 2110. While the Brotherhood focused on protecting pre-war technologies, the Institute made new revolutionary discoveries. The year 2227 is when their newest and most innovative one emerges; third generation synths, looking exactly like humans.

The Brotherhood conducts extensive tests on each citizen within their quarantine zones. Synths cannot be trusted, they are replacing the good people of the commonwealth, to spy on the surface and report back. They must be destroyed.

And while the Brotherhood fights this impossible war, yet another faction emerges, the Railroad, set on protecting runaway synths, claiming they are just like us. While they’re not the Brotherhood’s main concern, they still have conflicting purposes, leading to clashes whenever they meet, despite the institute being a common enemy.

And it brings us to today.

Next Level >

#widlf-prologue #fallout 4 #tlou game #tlou fanfiction #tlou #the last of us #nora fallout 4 #fallout oc #fallout #fo4 #sole survivor #the institute #the railroad #brotherhood of steel #synth shaun #nora fo4

2 notes · View notes

weirdestbooks · 12 days ago

Text

Secret States Chapter 31

He Just Wants An Explanation (Wattpad | Ao3)

Table of Contents | Prev | Next

“America, just wait for me. I demand an explanation!” Britain said, rushing after America and his states. They were walking incredibly quickly, and Britain had to jog to reach them.

“We don’t have to tell you shit, Limey. You deserve nothing from us, not after all that you’ve done to us!” The short one, Rhode Island, snapped. Britain bit down his initial surge of anger, breathing out deeply.

They were rude because they had reason to be. This didn’t mean they didn’t have manners. It meant that they had grown up with one of Britain’s former victims and had reason to be scared.

“I’ve never met any of you before today. How could I have done any incredibly horrible things to you? While I would understand the anger of states I have met, I have not met you personally until now,” Britain said, tone civil. He didn’t really want a fight, but he hated it when people were angry at him based on history that they were not a part of and acted like an event before they were born was a personal offense.

“Oh yes, they did. The states used to be alters in this system. Much of New England was part of the original thirteen colonies. I’m sure you can figure it out from there.” America snapped. Britain paused before nodding.

“I see. So, we have met before,” Britain said, feeling shame and guilt swirling in his stomach, his ears pressing close to the side of his head.

“We have,” Massachusetts said, his voice cold. Britain swallowed.

“I’m sorry,” Britain said, knowing it would sound hollow, knowing that they would not forgive him.

But…they had the right not to. He hurt them.

Britain couldn’t make them forgive him.

That didn’t mean he wanted to know them any less.

“Hey, Father, why don’t we just head home and ignore this fucking limey. We both know what he wants,” Massachusetts said, tugging on his Father’s arm, trying to pull America away from the conversation.

“No, Mass—” America was cut off by Massachusetts yanking down on his arm before the state whispered something in his ear. America sighed as Massachusetts let go of his ear.

“I know, Mass, I know, you’re right.” America eventually said, as Massachusetts let go of him and smiled.

“That’s what being Father part two electric boogaloo gets me,” Massachusetts said, causing the rest of New England to groan.

Britain didn’t understand what that meant, but he couldn’t tell if it was something they were annoyed by or something they hated. Despite the fact that Americans seemed to wear their hearts on their sleeves, Britain couldn’t read anything from them.

America had taught them something. How to hide.

Britain made that a necessity.

“Mass, congratulations. You’ve officially made me want to stop calling you Dad.” Connecticut said, confusing Britain further. America was their father, was he not? Why were these states joking about Massachusetts being their father?

“And proven further why I’m smart and not calling you dad. That’s a thirteen plus Ohio and Tennessee thing.” Maine said, wrapping his arm around Massachusetts’ shoulder.

“But Maine, you could’ve literally been my son!” Massachusetts insisted.

“Ah, because Maine was a part of your state,” Britain remembered before a thought came to him. “Was there a personification for the Maine that existed when you were colonies? Massachusetts flinched. Not a big flinch, but he still flinched regardless.

“There was. She’s gone,” Massachusetts said. A small pang of pain hit Britain in his chest. He knew there were more failed colonies. How many had died?

“May I…may I have a list of names? I would like to ensure they have a place in the graveyard,” Britain offered, hoping the olive branch could help tensions.

“They already have graves,” Connecticut said, voice harsh.

“Then may I at least go to them and apologize for not knowing them?” Britain asked. America shook his head.

“No. It’s at my house, and I’m sure you can understand why I don’t want you there,” America said. Britain nodded. That was a boundary he could understand. Their home was their safe space. If interacting with him was going to bring up bad memories for some now that he knew of them, the least he could do was help ensure a place where they would never have to worry about him.

“I understand. Someday, then?” Britain asked.

“Maybe. James and Rebecca are still hesitant. I want…” America trailed off, eyes growing distant. Britain took a few steps back, just in case.

“Father?” Massachusetts said, immediately at his father’s side, sliding his hand into his father’s and giving it a few gentle squeezes. America’s eyes remained distant.

“This has been stressful,” Vermont snapped, “The least you can do is back off.”

“I want to be there for my son—”

“You lost the right to call him your son the minute you used his martial law to manipulate him into an unquestioning loyal colony. You lost the right the minute you refused to tell Papa about our Grandma!” New Hampshire yelled.

“Oh, so his mother,” Britain began, hissing out the last word, “is Grandma, but I’m just Britain?”

He couldn’t help but be angry at that. They never got to meet her, but here he was, available and willing to be there for them, and they spurn him for a dead woman not even America knew?

How could he not be angry?

But just like his therapist said, Britain tried to calm his anger. The worst of his crimes always occurred when he was mad. He needed to stay calm to keep it civil.

“She didn’t abuse us,” Rhode Island said, arms crossed. Britain clenched his fists before pressing his palms into his eyes, trying to keep calm and keep himself together.

“I am sorry,” Britain said, “I thought I was helping, so no one would…I know it was bad. I’m sorry.” Britain said, knowing the apology was all he could offer.

“We know you are,” Massachusetts said, “But that doesn’t mean we owe you anything. Goodbye, Britain.”

Massachusetts’ dismissal was clear, and Britain sighed but stepped away regardless.

He had said what he needed to.

Well, most of what he needed to.

#countryhumans #countryhumans america #secret states by weird #countryhumans britain

2 notes · View notes

playing-soldier-4077 · 1 year ago

Text

"Everyones on stage for the finale!"

Meet the cast!

"Somone will have to get me pregnant first." -Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce

Background: Surgeon from Crabapple Cove, Maine. Drafted into the Korean War, he hates the army. Currently the senior member of the 4077th MASH, having been stationed there the longest.

Rank: Captian, Cheif surgeon

Gender: Male, occasionally uses female titles

Sexuality: Bisexual with plausible deniability

Height: 6'2"

Age: 32

Relationship status: Single

Character warnings: Alcoholic, somwhat of a misogynist/womanizer (recovering), jokes about his truama (has a lot of truama). Bi-polar (Though at the time its referred to as manic depression. Also undiagnosed. Anyway the warning is he has manic episodes somtimes)

"We'll be the ones with our hands on the bible." - Trapper John McIntyre

Background: Surgeon from Boston Massachusetts, he was drafted into the Korean War. Developed an extraordinarily close relationship with hawkeye, before getting his orders to go back stateside. With much regret the only message he leaves for hawkeye is a kiss through the company clerk. They never got to see eachother off.

Rank: Civilian (Former Captian)

Gender: Male

Sexuality: yes please

Height: 6'3"

Age: 30

Relationship status: married

Character warnings: fruiquent adulterer, womanizer, alcoholic.

"I have this strange aversion to being away from my family!" -BJ Hunnicutt

Background: Fresh from residency, BJ finds he's been drafted as an army doctor. He has to leave behind his months old daughter and his wife to work meatball surgery at the 4077th MASH. He meets Hawkeye soon after landing, and they become quick friends. They're attatched at the waist, borderline codependent, and BJ doesnt know how he would've handled life in Korea if he hadn't met Hawkeye.

Rank: Captian

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Repressed

Height: 6'4"

Age: 29

Relationship status: Married

Character warnings: Anger issues, bottles emotions, alcoholic(functioning. mostly.) Does not know when the bit has gone too far; may subject you to pranks (psychological warfare.) Accepting to queer people despite the times, but has internalized homophobia. Has a lot of internalized everything. Very repressed individual.

"Im afraid of Lobsters." -Sidney Freedman

Background: Sidney Freedman works as a psychiatrist, and volunteered to join the Army as one. Though he never signed his loyalty agreement, and values his paitents over the rules of the military, he is still veiwed as a valuable field therapist.

Rank: Major

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay

Height: 5' 9"

Age: 43

Relationship status: Married (Lavender)

Character warnings: Makes jokes about his line of work. Canon example: "I'm going to commit suicide." -got a bad poker hand.

Despite the occasional joke, he does take his job very seriously. If this type of joke is a trigger and you still want to interact with the character, just tell me and I'll be sure not to make any :]

Things to note!

These characters, while progressive, are from the 1950s. They may say or do insensitive things.

(If I take this too far, do tell me. I dont intend to play into this much if at all, I just wanted to put the warning up. Please tell me if I write somthing I shouldnt, I struggle with knowing when to stop occasionally. This probobly wont be an issue, but the possibility is worth warning for I think)

#long post #pinned post #rp #trapper mcintyre #bj hunnicutt #hawkeye pierce #Only if you put those on - Trapper John #What flaws? youre perfect- BJ #rah rah - Hawkeye #That was a house call - Sidney

13 notes · View notes

my-own-walker · 1 year ago

Text

Someone You've Never Seen Before

A Kyle Spencer Fan Fiction

frat!kyle AU, fem!main character, sexual themes, mature language, use of drugs and alcohol, frat boy antics

There's a beautiful simplicity in the way college students choose their seating arrangement in large lecture halls. No assigned seats. Just vibes. On the first day of class, everyone shuffles in, bleary-eyed and foreboding. The semester is fresh. There's potential. There's dread. There's an uncertainty. How will this class be? Will I find it easy? How's the professor? Is there anyone I know here?

They find a seat in an empty hall that looks appealing to them. A seat they will sit in for the rest of the semester. They go from the freedom of winter or summer break back to the confines of grades and assignments.

Some prefer the back row, some prefer the seat closest to the exit, and others prefer to stay hidden, being just another head among the sea of students. I, personally, always found myself in the middle somewhere. I could hide easier. Never the back row, though. My eyesight was too poor for that.

Calculus is easy for some. For me, an English major, not so much. I knew I would struggle horrendously in class when I sat down in the fifth row on the first day. My mind was not oriented in the realm of math. I knew dozens of papers and other writing assignments would be due in my other classes. Looking over the syllabus, it was clear that I wouldn't be able to wrap my head around derivatives and complex analysis.

I sighed internally and opened my notebook, preparing for the worst. It was the fall semester of my third year at Tulane, and it snuck up on me, truly.

The school wasn't large. Class sizes weren't huge, so it was hard to hide, but I sure as hell tried. I thought I did a pretty good job of being unknown. I was born and raised in a small town near Salem, Massachusetts. I grew up in the kind of neighborhood you'd see in movies. Victorian-style houses painted with bright colors, trees lining the streets that would turn shades of orange in the fall. We'd get some pretty cold weather and tons of snow in the winter. I basically existed in only Doc Martens, oversized corduroy jackets, sweaters, and baggy jeans.

That upbringing put me in a weird position in New Orleans. I liked to think of my town and Nola as sister cities. They had the old-world charm of small main streets lined with shops and the kind of architecture that made you think you'd stepped back in time. I was a pretty smart kid, so Tulane was enticing due to its low acceptance rate and similarity to my hometown. I got in with my high SAT scores and GPA. My scholarship essentially gave me a full ride. It seemed like the perfect place for me. I didn't anticipate just how out of place I'd feel.

For one, the weather never dipped below 50 degrees, even in the winter. It was more humid there, as well. I suffered a fashion crisis, knowing I couldn't rely on large jackets for comfort. I moved as far away as I did to get out of the small-town rut. Everyone I knew went to UMass or Boston. Tulane was a new start. As time passed, though, Tulane became just another small town to me.

Everyone knew everyone. No one was above petty drama, not even me. News about social matters got around quickly. There was no class I joined that I didn't know a single person in. As much as I wanted to disappear, I easily got swept up into things. For example, I wasn't one to engage in the school's Greek activities. But even then I still went to their parties to get drunk, which meant I rubbed shoulders with almost every frat bro and sorority girl on campus. I would always be home by midnight, though.

Greek life was the lifeblood of Tulane; the thing that kept the social scene going. Everyone was involved. Everyone. I refused out of defiance, but even my closest friend and roommate, Lily, was in a sorority. I wasn't particularly interested in paying to have friends, but hey, whatever floats your boat.

Lily and I met freshman year. I put in an application for a random roommate pairing; an unintended consequence of me knowing no one at Tulane. I got extremely lucky, though. The housing department paired me with Lily Davies, an education major with dreams of one day teaching kindergarteners. She had pin straight blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and a bright smile. Despite how innocent she sounded, Lily was the sickest son of a bitch I'd ever met, and I loved it.

She was a crop-top-and-leggings-wearing-bastard with the sickest sense of humor. She was wild and witty with a sunny disposition. She blurred the lines of the dichotomy between popular and weird. Lily was a Louisiana-native, born and raised in Lafayette. Tulane was also her way of getting away from people from her high school (who had mostly gone to U of Louisiana Lafayette).

Our friendship was the only reason I survived at school. Lily would force me to leave the dorm and socialize. There was a standing, open-invite to any of her sorority events for me. I rarely ever went, but it was nice to not be alone all the time.

After freshman year, Lily and I moved into an off-campus, two-bedroom apartment. Both of us had no problem footing the bill, as my scholarship and her in-state status made school itself cheap for us. She had the opportunity to move into the Pi Phi house, but she declined out of respect for me, knowing I'd have to find another random roommate again. There was a small chance that it would work out as well as it did the first time. I felt bad being the thing stopping Lily from branching out, but she swore she didn't mind, and that she'd "rather live with The One And Only Hannah Martin."

She balanced me. She was the pop-music to my indie-records. The Nike to my Converse. The silver to my gold. You get it.

Two years of school went by in a flash. By sticking my head in the books, only emerging for occasional social time, I managed to forget to "cherish my youth," as old people would say. Another thing that snuck up on me was my math requirement. I needed one math class to graduate. Most English majors try to get it done in their freshman year to get it out of the way. I, instead, prolonged my dread until I couldn't any longer.

As I surfaced out of my sea of thoughts, I noticed the lecture hall had filled up quite decently. I took stock of who was in the class, rolling my eyes inwardly at some. Archie Brener. What a loser. The professor stood at the front of the room, shuffling through his papers, just two minutes until he was due to start the lecture.

The number of people filing in had dwindled significantly, and the seat next to me was still not occupied. I celebrated internally, happy that I would get more legroom and a chair to throw my bag onto. My elation was short-lived, though, as the hall's door swung open with a crash, and a blonde-haired boy rushed in to grab the first open seat he could see. I whipped my head around to see what the noise was about as Kyle Spencer rounded the chairs and rushed down the stairs, eyes scanning the crowd. Despite his rush, he made a point to fist-bump Archie as he passed him. Of course, he chose to sit in the seat next to mine.

He sat with a huff and hurriedly unzipped his backpack, pulling out an already-crumpled notebook. I tried not to stare, but the last time I had seen him, he was streaking through the Kappa Lambda Gamma house. I averted my gaze when his naked form ran past me, but I had already seen too much of him and his "brothers."

"I nearly didn't make it," Kyle panted next to me, clearly catching his breath from running here. "I read it wrong. Thought this class was in another building." I looked over to see who he was talking to. It quickly dawned on me that he was talking to me.

"Oh, uh, haha," I replied awkwardly. He leaned forward in his seat again, returning to fumbling through his bag. I returned my gaze to my notebook and began to idly draw some flowers in the corner of the blank page before me. I felt someone tap my shoulder, though.

"Sorry," Kyle whispered, "but do you have a pencil? I can't believe I forgot mine." He laughed shyly to punctuate the end of his question. I nodded and reached into my own bag, producing a brand new no. 2 pencil for him to use and abuse.

"You can keep it," I murmured. It was about to be a long semester.

Next Part

#evan peters #evan peters fic #ahs #ahs coven #kyle spencer #kyle spencer fanfic

21 notes · View notes

thornfield13713 · 6 months ago

Note

Based on that post - how do you see things going for Maris and Charon post-breaking of the contract?

Okay, since I'm not sure I'll ever get it actually properly written and in a fit state to share, here goes.

The first thing is, I'm not sure he ever really believed she was serious about breaking the contract, or that it could be broken, right up until they were actually well into breaking it. This whole thing was just a sop to her conscience, a way to justify to herself that she had no other choice, and then Maris would give up and probably become as bad as all his other previous employers (call them 'owners' and Charon will shoot you in the face), because you can't hold that power without it corrupting you eventually. Probably he's had a few employers who started out trying to be as decent as one can in that situation but who ended up as bad as any other in the end - it's the sort of situation that lends itself to corruption, because that's just the nature of absolute power.

I...don't think this is the point at which the contract is fully broken, however. Doctor Amari wants to be very careful and absolutely ensure Charon's continuing free will, so more tests have to be done, there are probably failsafes and traps that need to be puzzled out, and until he's entirely free, he's stuck in Goodneighbour...perhaps no longer obliged to follow Maris's orders, but still living with her for lack of any other options. At this point, Charon is just...starting to figure out what he might do with free will once he has it. Maris has taken it as read that as soon as he can, he's going to leave. She won't stop him. He has that right, she can't do all this to set him free and then cage him. It's going to hurt, because he's been her only constant companion since leaving the Vault, but she's resigned to it. She's also...trying to make amends as best she can for having held the contract as long as she did. Part of that is finding out the proper rate of pay for a very good bodyguard, and trying to save up the accumulated debt she owes him for five years under contract. It won't make anything up, but it's at least something to start a new life as a free man with. Of course, she can't make nearly that much in the amount of time they have, even as the only doctor in town, and especially not with living expenses and the expense of keeping a clinic running besides, but she tries.

On Charon's side, he's...he resents her, sometimes he would even say he hates her, both for holding his contract and for being cruel enough to offer him hope that has just kept on coming to nothing as they hit dead end after dead end. But he cares about her too, in a twisted sort of way. She was a preferable employer to many, even if all employers are hateful. And as she got more used to the wasteland, he found himself relying on her in fights as often as she relied on him. She's saved his life at least once, and has been his main source of medical care pretty much since they met. He fulfilled an order that the contract didn't even force him to in order to save her life once, and he still can't entirely explain to himself why he did it. Sometimes, he could almost forget there was a contract - long winter evenings in her house in Megaton with them sharing the space comfortably and no orders given at all, or the early days in DC when she looked to him for guidance about how to survive the urban wasteland and followed his instructions rather than the other way around - but that just made the times when reality set back in all the more painful. It's a horrible, messy tangle of a relationship, and honestly, it's no surprise that when Dr Amari finally gives him a clean bill of health, he leaves before she can even make the offer of his severance pay.

He sticks around the Commonwealth, though. Or- the New England region, anyway, even if he ventures beyond what used to be Massachusetts. For pragmatic reasons, mostly - the Brotherhood hold power to the south, he's leery of getting heavily irradiated by going through the Glowing Sea, it's a long and dangerous journey and there's not much left in the Capital Wasteland he'd want to go back to. Anyway. People aren't quite such dicks about ghouls in the Commonwealth. A lot of them are still dicks about ghouls, but it's not quite as all-encompassing as he remembers from down south. Mercenary work is what he knows, so he keeps doing that, but he gets to pick and choose who he works for this time, and if a job or an employer crosses his lines, he's out of there. He might consider the Minutemen for a while, honestly, except they're kind of fragmenting at this point, and not every faction of the Minutemen after the death of General Becker accepts ghouls. And eventually, he comes back to Goodneighbour - on a job, or to resupply, or to have a follow-up appointment with Amari. He's not really expecting Maris to still be there - lone wanderer, after all - and he's fine with that. He definitely hasn't caught himself wondering where she is and how she's doing, or wishing that she was around when he got injured and he had to trust himself to some other doctor instead of her. She was just another employer. More decent than most, sure, but that never lasts for long.

From Maris's side of things...first of all, she's living under an alias these days. Doctor Stella James is the only physician willing to work out of Goodneighbour, and she has an arrangement with the new mayor that exempts her from paying a cut of her business to him in exchange for patching up the Neighbourhood Watch for free. She wasn't planning to stick around, but...well, where does she have to go anymore? She can't go back to DC - she's not sure she'd survive the journey alone, and has thoroughly burned her bridges with the Brotherhood anyway, so she'd probably in some danger as a 'traitor' to the organisation even if she did go back. Most of her wanderings after leaving DC were her trying to find a way to break Charon's contract, but now that's done. She's tired of wandering, tired of being a stranger everywhere, tired of everybody else's problems. And here in Goodneighbour she now has a home, a steady job doing what she was trained for back in the Vault, and she's...starting to feel like part of a community again for the first time since she was forced to leave Megaton behind. She has a book group with Daisy, regular patients she gets on with reasonably well, and nobody is going to fuck with the person who's going to be stitching them up next time they get into trouble. She never expects to see Charon again, either. He's left, and hopefully he's making full use of his freedom somewhere, and she will never know how, and that's...something she's trying to make her peace with.

And then they meet again in Goodneighbour, a caravan guard and the town doctor, and it's...awkward. To say the least. What do you say to one another, in a situation like that? Everything about their previous situation was fucked-up, but they still care about each other in a way that they haven't quite been able to shake. Neither of them are...great...about the why. Charon can't justify it anymore with 'well, if anything happens to her, I'll definitely end up with somebody worse', and Maris can't justify it with 'I'm the reason he's in danger so it's my responsibility to make sure he's okay'. But for whatever reason, they're in a situation where they end up talking - maybe a Super Mutant attack on the town, and Charon pitches in because...it's a Super Mutant attack on the town he's in...and gets injured, and there's only one doctor in town. Maybe they just happen to both be at the Third Rail at the same time and end up making very awkward conversation while waiting for their drinks. Either way, one of them breaks first and asks the other how their life has been since they parted ways, and the conversation goes from there.

After that, they see each other whenever Charon happens to pass through Goodneighbour. It happens more and more often, after that first encounter, though it might take a while for him to realise he's doing it on purpose - he's so used to hiding his ulterior motives even from himself, to avoid triggering the contract, and a year has not been enough time to break him of the habit - but when he does, he might try to cut back on any job that takes him to that sort of area for a while.

Not sure how things evolve from there, but it will certainly be interesting to write, if I can ever get to it.

(To say nothing of how they're both going to take the Prydwen turning up when that happens - actually, that might make a pretty good feelings-realisation moment, with the fear of the Brotherhood finally coming after them.)

#maris gibb #fallout 3 #fallout 4

3 notes · View notes

insertsickusername13 · 2 years ago

Note

as a prompt: a richjake roadtrip after senior year

this took me so long.who knew road trips were so hard to write? wtf. like it's such a classic it should've been easy, but i started this weeks ago and only managed to finish it now bc i just refused to close the tab until i finished. and on that note i've been writing for the past hour and my brain has lost all ability to process the english language so i didn't edit it. if there's grammar mistakes or certain sentences are total nonsense then i'm very very sorry

uh, warnings? mentions of sex. mentions of drugs and alcohol.

word count: 5,437 (yes, it's longer than I wanted. its a roadtrip. how am i supposed to write that in a thousand words?)

On the second day, Rich told Jake he liked him. They were up in Maine, planning on getting all of New England before heading west. Jake had the passenger seat pushed back as far as it could go, eyes closed and legs almost straightened. It was early—7? Maybe 8?

When Jake had insisted they go on a road trip together, Rich had imagined late mornings in hotel rooms and late nights in clubs. (He also imagined Jake realizing just how terrible this would be for his legs within the first three hours, but it was hour eight and he still seemed determined.) Instead, he got a rigid schedule and a pre-made playlist. No bars or underground concerts—just Mount Rushmore and Chicago and art museums. Aquariums where there were ones, beaches when they could.

They’d only been through Massachusetts and Connecticut by the time Rich gave in. They were alone for the first time in ages—and not in their house, not with the promise of going to school and seeing their friends the next day. They were practically in the middle-of-no-where-New-Hampshire and Rich could pull over, stand on the roof of the car, and scream, “I love Jake Dillinger!!” and the only person who would hear would be the object of his affections. The urge to confess flurried within and around the car like an unshakable snowstorm.

He didn’t mean to say it. In all honesty, it was a misinterpreted phrase, a result of Rich’s excessive talking as Jake hummed from the passenger seat, half-asleep.

“But Interstellar just had more,” he said, only half paying attention to the empty highway, “Like yeah, okay, Tenet was weird as fuck and probably had a cooler concept if I was smart enough to figure it the fuck out, but the main character’s name was fucking protagonist. Who becomes emotionally attached to a dude named protagonist? It lacked the depth Interstellar had. Plus, Interstellar felt attainable. Like fuck yeah, I wanna go to space.”

“Mhm.”

“I’d take you with me. Maybe Michael, but I’m not sure how ventilation works on a spacecraft and his weed might stink up the whole thing.”

“Probably.”

“You’d be a menace, you can barely handle gas station food, let alone space food. You’d have a heart attack at not being able to have your weekly caviar.”

“You’d just throw me out in space,” Jake mumbled, not even bothering to deny the caviar jab.

“Nah, I like you too much,” Rich teased, poking at Jake’s exposed stomach. He expected a squawk, at least for Jake to shove him away, but there was only silence. Rich took his eyes off the road for just a split second, interest piqued, only to be met with Jake’s wide, terrified expression.

He’d said it a million times before and never overthought it, but maybe there was something different about this time. Maybe it was because they were alone rather than surrounded by friends, maybe it was because now they’d planned a life together—college, in Boston, Jake at Harvard and Rich at Emerson, still roommates. Maybe it was accursed Maine and all its forests, or the way Rich emphasized like. Love was a common word between them, said every sleepless night since the fire, but like meant so much more. Like implied a hesitance only present where romance was seeping into every word.

“No, you don’t," Jake seethed.

Rich scoffed. A restless apprehension crept its way up his spine and settled in his fingertips, which tapped against the steering wheel.

“Pretty sure I do, buddy. You’re—”

“I’m your best friend and you don’t like me.”

Oh. Oh fuck. Jake meant like that. He knew, he—fuck. Rich had to consciously stop himself from accidentally sending the car tumbling into the forest.

“Okay,” Rich forced out, “Okay. I don’t like you.”

Jake’s sigh of relief was similar to a comet colliding with Rich’s home. He squeezed the steering wheel and kept his mouth clamped shut, terrified that one wrong move would send them spiraling off the edge of the Earth.

As it turned out, though, Jake didn’t mind Rich’s confession. He didn’t directly acknowledge It afterward, glad to pretend he was still blissfully unaware of every icy undercurrent running under their feet.

Rich thought an explicit rejection would hurt. He’d imagined how it would go a million times over, a passive version of self-destruction. He lay awake next to Jake’s sleeping body and thought of every word he’d say, how he’d say it, the way he’d look away with guilt. Rich had all his responses planned, all his apologies already written. He was prepared for an, ‘I’m so sorry, I just don’t think of you that way—’

He was not prepared for Jake’s arm slung over his shoulder, lips close to his ear, and that quiet, breathy laugh Jake only let slip out around Rich.

They were in some local museum meant to educate passing tourists about some half-abandoned small town Stephen King would write about. It was reasonably entertaining, mostly a distraction from the storm of heartbreak he was trying to disassemble in his chest. Just one night—he needed one night alone in a hotel room to sob out every sorrow, then he’d bounce back. Just one night.

If only Jake would stop trying to kill him. Rich was satisfied reading about boats or whales or something (he’d forgotten, too busy thinking about Jake’s fingers clutching Rich’s t-shirt to keep his balance) with Jake a good two feet away, examining a painting. But Rich’s beautiful demolitionist decided his next target was Rich. He appeared to the right of him and practically draped himself over him, impossibly energetic for being in a place that reeked of desolation and dust.

“Fuckin’ Maine and their lobsters,” Jake grumbled into Rich’s ear, resting his chin in the crook of his shoulder.

Every possible witty response died before Rich even had the chance to think them up. His brain was too muddled with Jake and Jake knowing and Jake being so close. Where there would usually be a confession on the tip of Rich’s tongue, unspoken but overwhelming, there was only the bitter aftertaste of hope.

“Yeah,” Rich stated, simple and short. Jake’s cane knocked against Rich’s knee. It wasn’t even on the ground anymore, having been replaced by Rich.

Jake made a small sound of confusion before nuzzling a bit closer and said, “Do we wanna drive to Vermont for lunch? Or are we staying here?”

“It’s like a four-hour drive.”

“So we’re staying here?”

“If you want.”

Jake shifted away slightly, just far enough that Rich began reteaching himself how to breathe.

“You’re all red,” Jake stated, soft and oblivious.

Okay, so no breathing. Rich writhed in Jake’s hold until he was free and standing three feet away, face even redder than before, an instinctive reaction to Jake’s intense, unwavering gaze. Picking through the flood of panic in his mind, Rich only barely managed to get out, “Sorry.”

“Why would you be s—oh. No, that’s—I didn’t mean to—like, we’re—”

Rich was going to cry. In front of the boy he was in love with, he was going to cry. Jake sounded so panicked and apologetic that Rich could almost feel it gathering like snowflakes in his hair, coating the floor in pure white dust.

“Jake, stop. It’s fine.”

“Are you su—”

“Let’s just go to lunch. I saw a diner on the way here.”

Jake nodded rapidly, almost desperately, as he stormed from the room—almost as if he could escape Rich’s feelings merely by leaving this goddamn museum behind.

He almost succeeded. It took an awkward lunch and two hours of driving on an empty highway, but eventually, Rich’s one-word answers slipped back into enthusiastic ramblings and Jake learned not to flinch away whenever Rich’s hand got too close.

Rich still cried when they got to the hotel. It was his turn to pay and, despite repeatedly telling Jake that he was going to save as much money as possible, he bought two separate rooms for them. Jake didn’t so much as blink. Still, the next night they were in a shared room with separate beds, far enough that if Rich reached out he’d be met with only empty air, but close enough he could still hear Jake’s breathing.

It wasn’t until Illinois that Rich was once again faced with the consequences of his stupid, unintentional confession. Once again in different hotel rooms, Jake had to knock on Rich’s door at 2 am to get his attention.

Rich was half asleep, his phone in his hand still open to Michael’s text messages. At first, he was convinced Jake was a figment of the SQUIP—the knocks would get louder until Rich was on the floor, rocking back and forth with his hands over his ears waiting for the noises to stop.

But then he heard, “Richie?” and his panic evaporated as if it was never there.

“What the fuck?” he said, answering the door with a fabricated scowl. At Jake’s nighttime smile, it melted into reluctant contentment.

Jake held up a towel and a pair of swim trunks. “Hot tub? I saw they had one.”

“Well, it’s most definitely closed by now.”

Jake ducked his head with a bashful grin on his face and shrugged. Rich knew by now that Jake only followed the rules when adults were there to praise him for his obedience, and Jake knew Rich knew, but he always acted like a scolded child when he suggested something even vaguely rebellious.

“Could be fun,” he whispered, blushing at the floor.

“Oh my god, gimme those and stop acting like a five-year-old.”

Jake positively beamed, sunshine incarnated. Rich almost had a heart attack as he ripped the swim trunks from Jake’s grasp as quickly as he could, doing everything in his power to avoid brushing Jake’s hands against his own as he slammed the door shut to get changed.

By the time they got to the hot tub, Rich was sure he was going to die. He didn’t know he had a thing for boys picking locks, but seeing Jake on his knees in front of the glass door, his credit card in the slit between the door and the wall had done something to Rich.

And Jake, skin red from the hot water, eyes glazed over from the third beer he’d had (that someone Rich hadn’t noticed was in his hand)? Yeah. That was something else entirely. He was frozen despite the heat, paralyzed by Jake’s hands on his hips, tracing stars with his thumb.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Jake whispered, voice almost lost in the foggy steam filling the room. He wasn’t making eye contact, instead staring at the point of contact between them like he could see the pearly gates of heaven reflected in the water.

“Yep,” Rich squeaked. He didn’t want to say no, he would do anything to be able to enjoy it for what it was, but… but fuck. This was survival for him. He couldn’t wake up tomorrow in Jake’s hotel room and continue as if nothing had happened—it wasn’t a wouldn’t. There was no choice in this. Rich could not have sex with Jake and be forced to be friends with him afterward. He couldn’t have his feelings manipulated and abused, no matter how much he loved Jake.

Oblivious to Rich’s internal musings, Jake leaned down until he was so close Rich was almost convinced they were kissing.

“You want this?” he said. Just those three words, not the ones Rich was aching, breaking, longing to hear, were enough for their lips to brush together. Less than a second, barely a moment, and Rich thought he felt the moon shatter.

Rich would’ve responded if he could get air in his lungs, but Jake was so close he inhaled all the oxygen that would’ve been Rich’s. All he could do in the haze, the fire, the fear, was shake his head ‘no.’ Not when Jake was drunk. Not when he was looking at Rich like he used to look at Chloe.

Jake jerked back an inch, then two, brows furrowed with confusion.

“I thought—”

“I don’t like you, remember?”

Jake blinked. Rich could tell he was being too slow, his intelligence impacted by the alcohol. It shouldn't take this long for him to figure out what Rich was trying to say—usually, he’d be able to predict Rich’s next words before he even thought them up.

This time, though, Jake just whispered, so small his words could fit in the space between every molecule of air between them, “What?”

“I don’t like you. You told me I don’t like you.”

Another second passed, stretched far beyond what should have been physically possible. Only then did Jake’s eyes flash with recognition.

“Right,” he said, then smiled, “Right, but that was just—I was freaked out, but I’ve thought about it, so much Rich, it’s all I can fucking think about, and you’re—”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m buzzed at best, Rich, listen to me—” he got closer again, eyes alight, and for a split second, the same amount of time it took for someone to realize they were about to die, Rich felt a flicker of hope. Innocent, buttercup hope. Jake in his arms. Waking up to Jake’s face pressed into his hair. Jake kissing him lovingly.

Rich’s face contorted to hide the blissful fantasy from Jake’s prying eyes.

Jake jerked back again, this time so far that he fell back into the water (gracefully, because everything Jake did was graceful), expression a crater of ash and fire.

“Do you… I don’t…”

“You’re hurting me, Jake.”

Jake scrambled farther away, fumbling through the water to the edge of the hot tub as if it was made of glass shards. His mouth was open, words spilling out in a desperate, violent waterfall.

“No, no, you’re not listening to me, Rich, I want you—”

“Yeah, when you’ve got me half naked.”

“What?! No, stop, I’m telling you I want you, all of you, not sex, or—”

“Jacob I can see your boner from here. Don’t try this. It hurts. You can’t—”

“I’m not trying to!”

Jake’s voice was getting loud, his face redder than before. His wet hair went from sexy to frazzled and threatening. His hands were pulling at the roots, tangling in the knots. Rich recognized the mosaic his fear created and could almost see Jake tumbling off cliffs of insanity and desperation. He knew Jake through the months he spent alone in that empty mansion after his parents left, either drunk on expensive liquor or high on the pills his mother left behind, he knew just how dangerous a desperate Jake could be. Not violent, but so goddamn broken it was impossible not to cut himself on the pieces as he gathered him up and reconstructed him back into a man.

“Then stop it!” Rich screamed, “You don’t fucking know, Jake. You’re fucking—the only relationships you’ve been in have been about sex and, and popularity, and you don’t understand this feeling.”

It was as easy as that. Rich knew he’d twisted the knife, knew that maybe he’d taken it a step too far, but he didn’t deserve this. After years of pining, Jake didn’t get to reject him and then try to bed him. That wasn’t allowed.

When Jake spoke again, it was emotionless. Monotonous. Devoid of all humanity. Words on a page, scripted and controlled. Rich had lost all access to Jake.

“What happened with Chloe doesn’t define me. You know that, I know you know that, so don’t even fucking try me. I don’t know what it’s like to hide and lie about my feelings for years, but you don’t know what it’s like to watch the only person you’ve ever loved—”

“Don’t say that.”

“To watch the only person you’ve ever loved,” Jake repeated, more determined this time, “flinch away whenever you so much as look his way because he’s so insecure he can’t accept that maybe you want to spend the rest of your life with him.”

Rich’s fists clenched. He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up out of the hot tub, but he was standing by the door, dripping and scowling and on the verge of tears.

“Fuck you.”

“Really? That’s it? Tell me what you want. Tell me you want me and it’s that simple. Tell me you know I want you.”

“You’re my best friend.”

Jake flinched at his own words thrown back at him. He kept his mouth clamped shut as Rich kept talking.

“You’re my best friend and I don’t know what the fuck is up with you tonight, but you told me yourself that we’re friends. I’m not going to let you ruin that with sex.”

“That’s not what—”

“I’m not going to let some half-hearted relationship ruin us, Jacob"

Jake stayed silent, seemingly waiting for more. Rich watched him realize there was nothing left to say, that this was the end of the conversation. His lips were trembling. Rich wished they weren’t.

“Fine,” Jake breathed. He sagged to the floor, knees pressed against the tile, hands clasped politely in front of him. “Fine. Friends. Best friends. If—if you really think being together would ruin us, then we’re just friends.”

“Good,” Rich said as if he couldn’t feel each cell within him bursting and bubbling with acidic heartbreak. “Friends.”

They stayed there for a moment, waiting for some finale to hit—some final blow to tattoo this night in black on their skin—but there was only burning silence.

“I’m going to bed,” Rich said finally.

Jake only nodded, still staring at the floor. Rich slipped from the room and screamed out sobs into his pillow until the sun forced light back into his life.

He stumbled through his morning routine, struggling to close his suitcase and stuff it into the trunk of their car. It wasn’t until he saw Jake, his smile bright but eyes tired, sitting alone in the dining room that the haze lifted just enough for him to realize friends ate breakfast together.

He sat down across from Jake without a word, and only once Jake looked up from his half-eaten breakfast did Rich force the skeleton of a smile onto his face. Jake mimicked it with much more success.

“Top of the morning to ya, buddy,” he said, the word buddy spat out like it hurt, “So, I was thinking, St. Louis is like an hour and a half away, maybe we stop there around noon, see the arch thingy, the move on. There’s a zoo like thirty minutes from there that we can stop at for a while. We can end the night in Wisconsin, see I don’t know, some small town, then tomorrow we can go to Minnesota?”

Rich nodded. He wasn’t sure if he could speak yet.

“Great! I’ve still gotta pack up, so just let me do that, then we can hit the road.”

Rich nodded again. Jake’s gaze lingered too long, flitting across his face, from his bloodshot eyes to his lips, before he finally looked away, his smile faltering. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll see ya in a bit, then.”

“Yeah! Can’t wait.”

Rich wished he could think of more to say, but the day seemed to be coated in an unbreakable silence. The car ride was awkward—Jake kept the radio off, choosing instead to prompt Rich with question after question as if they were kids meeting for the first time. Rich offered up every answer he had. He didn’t have many.

They stopped for ice cream sometime in the late afternoon, after a tense trip to the St. Louis arch during which Jake elbowed Rich after making a joke and Rich almost hyperventilated.

“What should I get?” Jake asked, surveying the menu.

“Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

Rich whipped around to face him, every muscle in his body clenched and ready to fight.

“What?”

“Raspberry looks good.”

Rich didn’t push it., but the words echoed in his ribs until his lungs were bruised.

It happened again a week later. An art museum in Washington.

“It’s beautiful,” Rich said, staring in wonder at a painting of the ocean during a storm.

“So are you.”

Rich didn’t turn to look at him. He scrutinized the painting, looking at every color and brushstroke until three minutes later, Jake had to go to the bathroom.

In California: An aquarium gift shop.

“Do you like it?” Jake asked, watching Rich hold a penguin stuffed animal against his chest.

“I love it,” Rich said, his voice muffled by the fabric. He was hiding his face behind the wings so Jake wouldn’t see his eyes watering at the fact the cashier had called Jake such a good boyfriend for buying him the penguin.

“I love y—”

He had the decency to cut himself off.

“I’m glad you like it,” he amended, and it was left at that.

Until Texas. A hotel twenty minutes from the Space Center Houston only had one room. Of course.

It had two beds. Rich sat upright in one, phone in hand, Michael on the other end. Michael didn’t know what had happened between Rich and Jake, but he did know Jake was on the other side of the room, headphones on as he stared at his computer doing one thing or another. Rich watched him, still helplessly in love despite the repeated heartbreak he experienced every time they did so much as make eye contact.

“Las Vegas was so overhyped,” Rich complained, “Probably because Jake and I can’t legally gamble, but the hotel was so fucking cool. There was this giant fountain and so many lights. Almost had a panic attack because of the noise, but once I got over that it was sick.”

“Las Vegas or San Fransisco?”

“San Fransisco 100% buddy, not even a question. Food was great. I was a little scared we were gonna get devoured by a wildfire, but we ended up fine. East Coast is so much better, though. I can’t wait to get back. Jake said we can stop in the Everglades.”

“You want to got to the Everglades?!”

“Yes!! Snakes, Michael! I need to see a Burmese python and alligator fight to the death!”

“You’re crazy.”

“I’m well aware, but this is a childhood dream of mine that must be fulfilled before death takes me.”

Michael laughed. Jake made a strangled sound from across the room.

Rich froze up and instinctively forced an awkward smile on his face, tense and unsure of what exactly had prompted Jake’s reaction. He glanced at his pretty sunflower out of the corner of his eye—his hunched shoulders, a posture that was so unlike him, his face illuminated by the computer screen. Rich cleared his throat to rip himself from admiring him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m hilarious,” he choked out, “Okay, it’s—it’s late, I better get going now.”

“It’s like 9—”

“Night!”

Rich hung up but stayed staring at his phone for far too long, terrified to do anything but.

“Are you okay?” Jake whispered. His computer was closed now and he was facing Rich, crisscrossed on his bed. Rich straightened and nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, just tired. Sorry.”

“Have you been tired for the last three weeks?“

Rich blinked at him, too focused on the blue of his eyes to comprehend his words.

“What?” he finally said. Jake just shook his head and turned off the lamp, deciding darkness was the best course of action.

Rich thought it would be him who’d be unable to sleep, haunted by blues and I love yous, but it was Jake who tossed and turned and writhed in his sheets, wrestling with some invisible enemy long after Rich fell asleep.

When Rich awoke the next morning, it was to Jake packing his suitcase. He stayed still for a moment, admiring Jake as he carefully folded each shirt, hands gentle and sure of themselves. Since Illinois, every look he’d given Rich was coated in a layer of lies Rich hadn’t been on the receiving end of since sophomore year.

He didn’t know Rich was watching him now. He looked sad, irrevocably so. The tip of his nose was red, the first sign of sadness. Then it was the parted lips—he was a snotty crier. Rich learned that after watching Bambi with him. He’d been crying, and now he couldn’t breathe through his nose. His chest was moving up and down in stuttery, unsure movements, and after every piece of folded laundry, he had to pause to press the heel of his hand against his mouth to stifle a sob.

“What’s wrong?” Rich rushed out, the usual sluggishness of his mornings completely eradicated by Jake—Jake crying.

Jake jumped at the sound of Rich’s voice and regained his composure within a split second. There was suddenly a smile, open body language, and eyes that remained just as dead as before.

“You’re awake! I have something for you.”

“I don’t care, what’s—”

“No, no, trust me, you’ll care, hold on.”

Still smiling beautifully, he turned to the desk and grabbed two pieces of paper. Then, movements peppy and face alight, he sat down in front of Rich and handed them to him.

“Okay…?” Rich said, looking down at the pieces of paper with little interest—Jake. Crying. Jake. Crying. That was all he was worried about.

Until he realized the papers were printed out plane tickets. One to Florida, the flight set to leave eight hours from then. Another three days later, from Florida to New Jersey. He reread the words. Then reread them. And again. And again.

All he could get out was, “What the fuck?”

“You can see the Everglades!” Jake said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Well—well yeah, but… we’re driving there? Together?”

Jake shook his head. “No, yeah, we were, but—I mean, after Illinois…”

He paused to clear his throat and look away. Rich was on the verge of screaming, but that could wait until Jake had finished whatever shitty explanation he was about to offer. The longer the silence lasted, the more Jake’s sunny demeanor faded out.

“After Illinois, I mean you don’t—you aren’t happy, Rich. Not around me. Last night, like, with Michael—” Rich had never heard Jake struggle with words this much. He was stuttering, tripping over his words, raising his volume too high then lowering it to the point Rich could barely hear him. “—you were talking to him, and you won’t do that with me anymore, and I want you to talk like that because it’s—fuck, it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and if you can’t do that around me anymore—because I fucked up and apparently ruined the best thing to ever happen to me—then maybe some time apart would be good for us?”

Jake looked up at Rich hopefully. Rich wasn’t sure what he was hoping for and he didn’t have the energy to figure it out through the anger crawling inside his skin.

“You’re kicking me out?”

“No! No. I just think you should have the chance to be—no, I need the chance to—I want you to be happy—”

“I’m happy.”

“You won’t even look at me. You won’t talk to me. I’m hurting you.”

Rich suddenly understood why Jake had looked so heartbroken after hearing the phrase you’re my best friend. Having his words manipulated and turned against him hurt more than the flames ever had.

“That’s—no—”

“And I thought I could fix it by just being your friend, but we’re not even that anymore. I want us to be. So badly. I can’t lose you. I can’t go to Harvard without coming home to you every night. And I’ll do anything to save us, and right now that means you have to get away from me.”

“Stop—”

“So I got you tickets to go see the Everglades. I even booked you a boat tour. I’m not sure about seeing a Burmese python, but you can try. Then you can have the rest of summer in New Jersey with Michael and everyone else, and we can meet up in Boston, and everything will be okay.”

“Jake—”

“I can’t ruin another relationship. I know I have a bad track record, I know I can’t commit or be romantic, and you’re probably right to realize I’d destroy whatever beautiful thing we managed to create, but honestly, you’re more beautiful than anything I could ever make, and I can’t destroy that, I have to protect that, even if I’m not around to see it for a while.”

“No—”

“But I can move on while we’re apart, and hopefully you can too, then we can be best friends in Boston and roommates forever and you can get married and I can pretend I’m happy for y—”

Rich kissed him. Quick and sloppy and frantic. It was hypocritical, to say the least, self-destructive if Rich was being completely honest with himself. But the feeling of Jake falling into it, pressing closer and moving so his trembling hands could press against Rich’s waist and back, was intoxicating.

Rich kept it short, though the feeling of just Jake’s gentleness was enough for him to want more.

He pulled back, Jake trailing after him until he collapsed against Rich, forehead pressed to Rich’s shoulder and lips pressed to his neck and collarbone.

“I don’t understand,” he said between kisses. Rich promised himself he’d memorize the feeling before it was taken from him.

“I’d rather be heartbroken with you than happy with anyone else,” Rich explained softly, tangling his fingers in Jake’s hair and pulling his head back to look him in the eye. Jake breathed out a sound Rich chose not to identify and tried to lean up and kiss Rich again.

“You’re not ruinous,” Rich got out just before Jake gifted him kiss after kiss like offerings to a god, “You’re not destructive and Chloe doesn’t define you and I’m sorry I implied she did, I shouldn’t have, and I’m terrified I’m gonna lose you and terrified this is all a prank and terrified you’re going to leave—”

“Never,” Jake confessed, eyes closed and expression melted into pure bliss. “Never, ever, ever. It took me too long to realize how bad I want you. I can’t lose more time.”

“I want you too.”

“I want you to be happy.”

“I can be once I get my head out of my ass and realize you’re even more perfect than I thought.”

Jake laughed soundlessly and pulled Rich onto his lap. “Perfect?”

“You’re gorgeous. You’re kind. You’d never purposefully hurt me, and I was stupid to think you would. I just—it hurt. The car. You telling me—Jake, I was still in survival mode. I didn’t mean anything I said. I swear it. Please don’t make me leave.”

Jake shook his head.

“No, I won’t. I can’t. I’m sorry for what I said in the car. That wasn’t cool or okay, I just… panicked? Because I always knew—I didn’t want to say it, or think it, or acknowledge it, but I knew, and you saying it made it so real I couldn’t even pretend I could ever want anyone else and that was—I wasn’t ready for that to hit so suddenly.”

Rich felt so warm inside he was convinced he was going to overheat and collapse in on himself like a dying star. He kissed Jake like he was made of roses until he was convinced he’d erased every terrible thought he’d placed in Jake’s mind in Illinois.

“So we’re going to stop being cowards now,” Rich said, clear and determined, “And I’m going to be happy because the most beautiful boy in the world decided I’m worth his time and he’s going to be happy because now I’m here to tell him he’s the most beautiful boy in the world every single morning, and that he can’t kick me to the curb even if he tries.”

Jake laughs and nods and kisses him again.

“God,” he whispered, tracing stars on Rich’s hips, “I’ve never been so glad I wasted two thousand dollars in my life.”

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

There was a short, weighted pause. Then, “Wait, did you say two thousand? Jake, flights to Florida should not be two thousand dollars.”

“Well, not for economy.”

“Econ—you were planning on giving me first-class tickets to Florida to soften the blow of practically breaking up with me?”

Jake was too giddy to be offended. He wrapped himself around Rich and kissed him again.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, shut up.”

“No, I am not shutting up, that is the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We’re going to seriously work on your spending habits in Boston, buddy—baby—you’ve got the rest of the summer to be an idiot with your money, then we’re starting a retirement fund. For fuck's sake, you’re going to be broke by the time you’re thirty.”

#bmc #richjake #jake dillinger #rich goranski #i can't spell i'm so tired #help me #the ending was so rushed i'm so exhausted #sorry besties #i'll try harder next time i swear #i keep thinking tomorrow is saturday which is why i stayed up so late working on this but i literally have school tmrw #whoops #sparkly star fanfic

38 notes · View notes