#i'm pretty good in the abyss but i always miss a few stars on floor 12

[windtraces]

lost my fucking 50/50 to keqing WHYYYYY. i do really want kinich so i'm gonna keep trying but THOSE WERE MAVUIKA SAVINGS YOU STUPID TWINK. her banner will be a ways off so i'll be fine but AUUUGUGUGFHHHHHH.

[hobipaint]

Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office. 

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance. 

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning. 

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight. 

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung." 

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them. 

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N." 

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now." 

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you." 

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung." 

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-" 

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?" 

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged. 

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear. 

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of. 

"It was me." 

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?" 

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold." 

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?" 

"Just said that." 

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that." 

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same. 

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting. 

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie." 

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could." 

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling." 

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me." 

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him? 

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to. 

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?" 

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it." 

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either." 

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again. 

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?" 

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me." 

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored." 

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on. 

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him. 

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer." 

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings." 

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then." 

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?" 

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me." 

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints. 

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?" 

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail." 

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?" 

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then." 

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office. 

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?" 

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up. 

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you." 

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung.  "The chief said he'll be here by eleven." 

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement. 

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?" 

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?" 

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes." 

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated. 

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue. 

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men. 

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung. 

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright." 

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?" 

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes." 

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused. 

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago." 

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get. 

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it." 

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.  

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming. 

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?" 

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun." 

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung." 

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night." 

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone. 

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew. 

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them. 

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight." 

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that." 

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything. 

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked. 

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class,  the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then. 

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal. 

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that. 

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then. 

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that? 

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom. 

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore. 

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do." 

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit." 

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?" 

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you. 

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges. 

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?" 

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change. 

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-" 

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no." 

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no." 

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please." 

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man. 

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away. 

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you. 

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks. 

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget. 

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only. 

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated. 

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people. 

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you. 

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more. 

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you." 

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him. 

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing. 

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision. 

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone. 

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good. 

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go." 

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you. 

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well." 

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me." 

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well. 

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please." 

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief. 

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now." 

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way. 

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face. 

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir." 

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?" 

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years." 

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well." 

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir." 

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out." 

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside. 

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be. 

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now." 

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly. 

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief. 

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen. 

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window.  "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop. 

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep." 

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?" 

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it." 

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning. 

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough. 

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be. 

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail." 

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it." 

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free? 

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself." 

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now." 

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did." 

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears. 

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured. 

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this." 

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too." 

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn. 

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation. 

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free. 

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support. 

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please." 

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear. 

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best." 

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room. 

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?" 

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her. 

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out." 

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly. 

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?" 

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?" 

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman. 

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you." 

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours. 

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments. 

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there. 

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you. 

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder. 

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well." 

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae." 

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive. 

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day. 

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now." 

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much." 

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies. 

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?" 

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead. 

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?" 

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?" 

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over." 

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine. 

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead. 

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought. 

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

masterlist

[odd-birds-and-booksellers]

“Alex…” Jo interrupts, her hand slowly curing round his, the one resting on her bump. He can feel his lips trembling as the tears he’d fought so hard to keep at bay begin to fall. 

"I put glow in the dark stars up.” He whispered. "So she can't be dead."

On one of the rare occasions, Alex and Jo’s days off don’t coincide, Alex finds himself wishing for a six-hour surgery, hell he’d rather be removing splinters than deciding between lemon sherbet and soft daffodil. To say he was excited about the impending arrival of their second child would be an understatement but completing the ridiculously long list Jo had left him to do this morning before rushing off with Robin felt more like torture.

He understood though, with only two months to go everything seemed to pile up on them, the quiet calm they had mistaken for panic when Robin was on the way paled in comparison when they were trying to juggle two full time demanding careers, a new puppy, a new baby and a toddler whose main goal in life seemed to be giving his parents a heart attack with the many hiding places he could find.

And this is how Alex found himself staring into the abyss of a million Amazon boxes that Jo had somehow managed to sneak by him, with various shades of yellow paint cans dotted around.

He understood Jo’s desire to make everything perfect, she’d been that way since she’d stepped out of the loft bathroom over two years ago, her hands shaking as she lifted the test towards him clearly displaying two lines. He swears they both had good intentions when Robin was born, he wouldn’t be spoiled, there wouldn't be gifts that make up for missing birthdays or missing bedtimes, they’d be honest about mommy and daddy having to work hard for everything they have and yet they couldn’t seem to stop themselves, because the luxury of giving their son and now their daughter everything they’d never had brought more happiness to Jo and Alex then maybe their children would ever understand. There could never be a single second their children doubted how loved and wanted they truly were, so it didn’t matter if their daughter would be in with them for the first few months, her room had to be finished before she arrived.

Their daughter...he smiles at the mere thought of her, their daughter, who likes to kick when their reading Robins bedtime stories, or plays the guitar on Jo’s rib cage until Alex sings along softly with her in the early hours of the morning, their daughter who’d refused to make herself seen for the first two scans.

It’s only when Alex finishes the last coat of soft daffodil that he hears the faint ringing of his phone above the radio. Shuffling down the ladder he wipes the back of his hand on his shirt as he hears the familiar ringtone sound again making Alex frown as he manages to navigate his way through the maze of boxes he's built around himself.

There’s a slight twitch in his chest as he begins down the stairs hearing his phone fall quiet only to start up again seconds later. He finds it still plugged in by the coffee machine where he’d left it, glancing at the screen to see he had twelve missed calls and three voicemails.

There's a definite twitch in his chest now as he clicks play on Jo's first voicemail, his lips twitching up at the sound of Robin's singing. They sounded like they were still in the car as Jo listed off a few more things she needed him to do.

"Hey, sorry I know you said not to go overboard but there are two more deliveries coming today so make sure to listen out for them and oh oh...if you get a chance to go grocery shopping we need...well we need pretty much everything but get me those cupcakes with the oranges on them and oh erm..." She paused after taking a slightly heavy breath. "I do not feel great today, maybe I can get someone to take over my surgeries. Oh and don’t forget to get the box of baby clothes down from the attic will you...okay... I love you, Alex, I’ll call you later."

He frowned quickly, bypassing the message Meredith had left, assuming it was whatever love triangle tragedy she had that day. He finds Jo's second message. There was no greeting to this one, only Jo's panicked voice.

"Why aren’t you answering the phone Alex? What’s the point of having one if you don’t ever answer it?”

His phone beeped again, signalling another message had been left, this time from Meredith again.

"Alex, where the hell are you? You need to be here now. I don't know if Jo is trying not to worry you but Carina is having her admitted so get over here before I leave work and drag you here myself.”

He felt his heart begin to drop in his chest as he hit replay, trying to piece together what was happening. Before he even knew it his feet were carrying him towards the front door, keys in hand as he rushed out. His entire mind had narrowed in on one simple need: to get to Jo.

He couldn't think of much else as he drove, he doesn’t even remember his route to the hospital he just remembers being at home and then bursting through the doors of Grey Sloan. He was severely out of breath by the time he caught sight of Meredith outside the maternity ward talking quietly with Bailey.

The best thing about Meredith, and what made her excel as a doctor, was that she was damn good in a crisis. So she knew the minute their eyes met that Alex just needed Jo. As soon as he’s within reach she wraps an arm around his shoulder—which felt way too much like condolences for Alex's liking and leads him through the doors where Carina was already waiting. This had to be a mistake. Jo was fine last night. Their daughter was fine last night. He’d felt her kicking as they’d talked. They’d talked about his mom's upcoming visit, and maybe going to see Amber and her family for Christmas or inviting them here.

"—I know. It's awful." Carina mutters her eyes on Jo's chart. The intern beside her nodded in agreement.

"I hope Dr Karev shows up before the ultrasound. She shouldn't have to deal with that alone." The intern responds.

“He’s here,” Carina whispers as she looks up, hearing Alex and Meredith footsteps as she tucks the chart under her arm. “If you can go set up the ultrasound while I talk to him.”

"Of course."

Alex gulps at the sorrow on Carina’s face as she steps closer, it's all too much for him as he averts his gaze down to the floor, his eyes catching on the silver band around his finger, splattered with yellow paint from earlier.

"What's going on?" Alex asks, hearing his voice crack as Meredith drops her hand from his back.

"Alex, you need to take a breath and pull yourself together because right now Jo needs you.”

He doesn't respond to Mer, doesn't even look at her as he raises his gaze back towards Carina, “What’s going on?” He repeats, his voice lower this time.

"Jo's in premature labour. She mentioned a couple of hours ago that she had some pretty bad Braxton Hicks, but then she timed them and they were too close together and too regular. So she paged me, and when I checked her cervix had already begun to open-”

Alex found himself nodding along but Carina’s words soon faded to quiet buzz in his ears. His fingers are already twitching to hold Jo. This couldn’t be happening, not to them. Not now.

"Okay." He whispers his voice dangerously low as he blinks back tears, desperately trying to pull himself together when everything in him was burning. Please don’t do this, please don’t take her from us, please don’t do this to her . He can feel his nails digging into the palm of his hand, the only way he's sure he’s still alive is the dull pain he feels as he takes a deep breath gathering himself slowly. Suddenly his doctor brain kicks in as he begins to ask what they are doing to fix this, listing everything he knew like he wasn’t surrounded by some of the best doctors he knew.

Carina nods, her words still buzzing in Alex’s head as she explains the past couple of hours, Jo’s contractions stopped an hour ago, her cervix hasn't opened any further.

“We’re just waiting to do an ultrasound...it really needs to be done right away.”

“Right...what's the problem then?”

“She’s refusing Alex, won't let anyone near her.”

Alex shakes his head, that's not true. Jo wouldn’t...she would never do anything that could harm their baby. She wouldn’t refuse medical care. He watches as Meredith shoots another look to Carina who sighs, tilting her head in a way that has Alex’s heart dropping into his stomach. “I tried earlier with the stethoscope to find the heartbeat...and was unsuccessful.”

"Alex, do you understand? We couldn't find a heartbeat. Dr DeLuca tried and I did too. Even Jo tried...now she’s refusing the ultrasound, she won’t let anyone touch her."

The childish reaction was quick and automatic. "Maybe you didn’t try hard enough, you didn’t do it right, okay? You know you should check properly.”

Carina took a deep breath. "Alex, I'm sorry. I’m going to do an ultrasound, of course, but…I don't know. It's usually easy to hear it with a stethoscope at twenty-eight weeks. Intrauterine deaths happen and there's not much—"

He felt like he couldn't breathe. His hand was clutching at his chest trying to feel the air filling his lungs but he couldn’t feel a thing as everything went fuzzy again. "Stop. Just shut up. You don’t know Jo. You don’t know our…"

"I'm so, so, s o sorry, Alex," Mer whispered. "I know how much you wanted her."

He felt his eyes burning. "I still want her. And you're wrong because I just felt her kick last night. She was kicking when I sang—she always does that. She does. So she can't be dead."

He chokes on his words. “She’s not...dead.”

There’s a quiet discussion mainly between Carina and Meredith who seems to be answering for Alex as they both guide him towards a door at the end of the corridor:

He has to stand outside the door for a full minute as he tries to get a hold of himself. He doesn’t want his face to show how truly scared he is at this moment.

When he does finally gather himself enough to step into the room he notices how the curtains were pulled, blocking almost all of the sunlight from the otherwise dark room. Jo was curled up onto her side, her entire body tucked protectively around Robin's sleeping frame. She hadn't even lifted her head or made a move to turn when the door shut behind Alex, and that terrified him so deeply that he couldn't even move. It had all suddenly gotten very real.

He walked slowly around the bed so he could see her face, he needed to meet her eyes or he’d never believe any of this was true. But as he rounded the bed he was met with her blank stare, blinking slowly as she took in his form.

"Robin needs to go home. I don't want him to have to see any more of this." She said quietly. She made no move to speak about what was going on. She was emotionless and it terrified him. Suddenly flashbacks of the first time he’d ever seen her look so shut down came to mind. When she’d first met her biological mother. When she’d shut down and left him out in the cold. He wasn’t sure he could survive it back then, he’d needed her so much but now he was certain he’d never survive without her.

Alex turned his focus to his son, who was asleep with his face scrunched up against Jo’s chest, his chubby hands resting on the swell of her stomach.

"I can get Mer to take him home with her." He told Jo quietly, he couldn't find any other words to say, it seemed neither could she.

Jo just nods in response but makes no effort to move. Alex could tell by her hand curling tighter around Robin's back that she wasn’t quite ready to let him go yet.

He’s not sure how much time passes next, as he takes a seat carefully on the edge of the bed. Reaching out gingerly to run his hands softly across Jo's cheek. And it’s in that moment when their eyes meet, his thumb tracing the already dried tear tracks down her face that they break. She lifts her right arm gathering a handful of his shirt tightly pulling him closer, pressing her cheek against his chest so she could hear his steady heartbeat. She doesn't say anything and for a second she’s silent before the sob she must’ve been holding back erupts from her and Alex can feel the tears begin to soak through his T-shirt. He feels powerless, all he can do is keep a steady arm wrapped around his wife holding her tightly to him. That was what hurt him the most about this. He couldn't do anything to take her pain away. He couldn’t fix this.

“Jo…Jo Carina is waiting to do an ultrasound…we need…we need to be sure.” Alex sighs trying to keep his tears at bay as she continues to shake in his arms. “Why won’t you let her help?”

"I didn't want anyone else." She finally admits, loosening her grip enough that he can see her face, her lips trembling as she speaks. The sight alone sends another sharp stab through Alex’s heart. "I didn't want anyone. I wanted you. I wanted—I wanted you to make it better."

Alex nods, wishing with everything in him that he could make any of this better. He lets out a shaky breath as Jo settles back down so her head was resting on his chest, her face pressing into his collarbone. He knows it is selfish, he knows it might kill them both but he can’t help reaching out over Robin's little body and pressing his hand to her stomach. He waits a moment…before pressing again, still waiting to feel the usual response. He hears Jo's breath hitch as she too waits for the little nudge of their daughter's feet, he knows she’s usually responded by now but he waits, he just keeps waiting. He thinks sort of him will always be waiting for that little kick…he thinks this moment might be frozen in time. Not us. This happens to people, but not us. Maybe it wasn’t fair to think like that, after all, every day he sees the worst card parents could ever be handed in life and yet he says the same lines about support groups and doing everything he could and not once did he think he’d ever need to hear those words.

He doesn’t know how long he keeps his hand there just waiting. "I just finished painting the nursery. I went with soft daffodils but if you prefer lemon sherbet we can change it…we can pick whatever colour you want, and I know I said we didn’t need a new crib but if you want that fancy one we’ll-“

“Alex…” Jo interrupts, her hand slowly curling around his own on her bump. He can feel his own lips trembling as the tears he’d fought so hard to keep at bay begin to fall.

"I put glow in the dark stars up.” He whispered. "So she can't be dead."

There’s no logic to what he said. There’s no truth to his reasoning but he believes it. Jo winces at his words or more likely one word in particular. He feels her drag his hand down to where Robin's tiny hands rest, a little reminder of what they still have.

Alex moves closer to them, pulling Robin gently onto his chest, sliding over and opening his arms for Jo. Letting her sink into him. She rests against him like she no longer has the strength to hold herself up.

“I'm sorry. I thought it was nothing more than Braxton Hicks. Can you believe that? I’m a freaking doctor and I couldn’t tell the difference between Braxton hicks and labour. I should have known better. I did this. This is my fault—"

Alex cuts her off, shushing her. "It's not your fault," he assures her. Life was unfair. He knew that. But this pain Jo didn’t deserve. Not his children. Not Robin. Not their new little girl with the stars on her ceiling. Not his family. They hadn't built this together for it to be broken.

"Please don't cry," she pleaded, her voice wavering. "Please don't, it terrifies me. I'm already so scared, Alex. I'm so scared."

Alex just nods, swallowing deeply as he pulls her tighter against his side. It was true that everything had changed once he'd had children. He no longer understood how he had lived without them. And he was realizing that everything he gained could be taken just as easily. He knew that, if this baby really were gone, there would be nothing he could do to ever fix the pain that would settle in Jo's heart or his own for that matter.

He feels Robin begin to stir against him and he forces a smile on his face and kisses his head, smiling genuinely when the little one lifts his arms, reaching out for his father in an instant.

"Daddy” He cheered, his little fists gripping Alex’s T-shirt as he shifted him higher up his chest. He settles his palm on the back of his head and kisses his head again.

"Robin, how would you feel about playing with Ellis, Bailey and Zola tonight?" He asks him carefully.

Robin is as stubborn as his mother. "Scout?" He suggests instead.

"Yeah okay, we can see if Uncle Link will take you. You can play with Scout and then mommy and daddy will see you when you wake up." He knows Robin has no real clue on what’s happening around him but he knew Jo had been right. He didn't need to be here.

Robin lifts his head and peers down at Jo. He seemed to be thinking hard about the proposition before shaking his head fiercely.

"No."

No was his new favourite word and Alex was already sick of hearing it. He strokes his hair back as he meets eyes with Jo. Her tears are still falling steadily. Her hands spread out over her stomach and he knew she was waiting to feel something still.

"No, I want mommy," Robin insists. His little face mustering up what Alex assumed was a scowl as he reached over to wrap his hand around one of Jo's curls hanging loose in front of her face. Alex didn’t have it in him to battle Robin today, it’s not like he wanted to let go of Jo either.

They were out of time to decide what to do about Robin because Carina was already wheeling in the ultrasound. Jo tensed beside him, her hand gripping his tightly as he rose from his place on the bed lifting Robin with him.

"I can't. Please." She whispers and if possible his heart cracked even more.

She was hanging on by a thin thread, but she was hanging onto him. They could survive this…they could survive it together. He lifts Robin higher up his chest, gently cradling Robin's head to his shoulder as the little one's legs wrapped around him.

Alex stared at the swell of Jo’s stomach, the same stomach he'd kissed just last night and singing old country songs much to Jo's amusement. There was no way…there was no way she was…he’d just finished her room…the paint was still wet. Her name is written in stars above her crib. She can’t be.

Alex didn't even realize he was crying until Carina flashes him a sympathetic smile. Robin lifts his head as he squirms in his fathers’ tight grip, peering up at him with a frown. Reaching out to touch his cheeks with his small hands.

"Daddy sad?” He whispers curiously. Alex was torn because there’s no way of explaining this to their toddler and he doesn't want to scare him. Instead, he settles for pressing him back against his chest, his little face squeezed against his neck because while he didn’t want him to watch he also couldn’t bear to let him go.

He watches as Carina helps Jo to sit up. It was too much to watch, the way her whole body shakes as her cries shook through her. He reached for her hand, laying limp by her side, his hand covering hers as he threaded their fingers together. She squeezes his hand back, gripping onto him like he was the only thing stopping her from coming undone. Her hand in his gave him a spark of hope that maybe no matter what happened next they’d make it together, as long they just kept holding on.

He almost dropped Robin in paralyzing relief when the familiar whooshing of the heartbeat filled the room. He lets out a cry of relief as he shakes his head. Alex presses his face back into Robin's hair and squeezes Jo's hand tightly, his heart still pounding away.

"Why wasn't she moving?" Jo asks, her voice hoarse. "I tried everything and she wouldn't move. And why couldn't you find it before?"

"Babies don't move much if at all during labour," Carina explained. "And I don't know. I listened for such a long time.” Once again Alex’s mind blocks out the surrounding noise until it’s a quiet buzz. Instead, he focuses on the image of their baby girl on the screen, the feel of Robin's hot breath against his neck and Jo's hand still clutching his tightly. His family. He’s had these images ever since they’d decided to try for a second…maybe even longer, before Robin, before he and Jo had even got married he’d had this whole dream…Jo, their kids and the house they’d live in and the life they’d live. “But you'll have to be on strict bed rest for the rest of this pregnancy, and even then there's no way to know how long you can prolong labour. If we can keep her from being born for at least a month she’ll be in a much better position."

He comes back down to reality when he feels Jo tug at his hand, she’s looking up at him expectantly. “There’s our girl,” He whispers, leaning closer, pressing a quiet kiss to her hair, not even glancing at Carina as she backs out of the room to give them a moment.

"What if I have to give birth soon?" She mumbled into his shirt. "What if we lose her anyway?"

He shook his head firmly. "We won't.”

He kisses her forehead and glances down at Robin before turning back to Jo. She was looking at him with that look. The one that communicated very clearly that she trusted him with everything in her.

Alex set his hands on her stomach and let out another relieved breath.

"God." He said quietly. She set her hand over his and caressed the back of his hand with her thumb.

Jo's expression twists with guilt. "I’m so sorry...this is all my fault. I've been overworking myself. I always think I can do so much more than I can and our girl is suffering because of it. Maybe I'm not fit to be a mother."

Alex shook his head. "If you're not fit to be a mother, Jo, no one is. Hell, you know what an unfit parent looks like and you are not one."

She opens her mouth to say something else, but abruptly she stops, her eyes widening slightly in surprise. Her expression goes from shock to joy in no time at all as she grabs his hands gently and moves them back to her stomach, pressing down lightly. Alex feels a familiar, returning nudge, gentle and soft, but definitely there. He laughs giddily and locks eyes with Jo, pleased when she laughs in return. He moves around the bed, leaning over Jo so he could press a kiss to the spot he'd last felt the nudge. He keeps his cheek pressed against her soft skin for a moment, whispering a quiet ‘I love you.’ before looking back at Jo’s teary gaze.

"Robin, come here. Come feel your sister." He tells the toddler. Alex tugs him up into his lap and helps guide his hand to the spot he'd just kissed. He applies slight pressure and laughs at the joyous giggle Robin gives when he feels the baby move underneath his hand.

"That's your little sister."

Robin looked up at her father and smiled but the tiny movements didn’t keep his attention for long as he began to climb out of Alex’s grip, into Jo's welcoming arms.

“It’s gonna be okay Jo. We’re gonna be okay.”

Jo looks up at him. Tears still trailing down her face but the sparkle missing from her gaze earlier was slowly making its way back.

He smiles gently, reaching out to cup her face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs softly over the wet trails her tears left. "Everything’s gonna be okay.” He promised. "You'll see."

And she did. A little over two months later their baby girl made her entrance into the world, a little less dramatic than her brother as she’d been monitored so closely, that it was no surprise when she decided to join everyone. With her brown eyes sparkling with the same warmth as her mother’s and a full head of hair she was every little bit perfect as Alex had imagined. A little taste of heaven.

“Hey, baby…welcome home.” Alex grinned as he pulled open the door to the nursery, ushering in Robin who proudly displayed the teddy he’d chosen for his baby sister as Jo slowly made her way inside. She’d been too afraid to step inside since the incident, she claimed it would jinx it.

“Oh wow…” She hummed happily looking down at the bundle in her arms, who as predicted was still asleep and had no understanding of the magnitude of the moment happening around her. “Aren’t you a lucky girl P?”

“Mommy… I see…you sit.” Robin yelps, pulling Jo from the bottom of her cardigan towards the new rocking chair set up in the corner. Jo is all too happy to take a seat, allowing Robin to catch sight of his baby sister.

“It’s perfect Alex…Thank you.” Jo mumbles after a minute, catching Alex’s eye who had taken the moment to settle against the door frame and just watch his family.

He smiles softly, before pushing up off the frame heading towards the window. “You haven’t seen the best bit.” He pulls the blinds down slowly, letting darkness take over the room leaving only the glowing stars for light.

Robin gasped as he looked around in wonder but Jo's eyes remained trained on Alex. “I love you.” She whispers.

“I love you.” Alex grins, kneeling down beside the chair as he runs his hand across their daughter's head. “I love you all…now look up.”

Tilting her head, Jo looked up at the ceiling and gasped. The stars trailed up the wall and right above the crib, they clustered together, spelling out their dear daughter's name.

Peyton.

-

Yes. This is a day late. But it's also very on-brand for me so.

This one-shot is part of the What Could've Been universe so if you haven't read them I would thoroughly recommend reading them, you find them all under my master post on Tumblr.

Also, I made all the medical crap up, so don't come for me with corrections...I don't care.

[jeremichal-archive]

what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is gone

hey hey hey guess who watched the minecraft sky factory videos fifty times and ended up getting inspired. *points at self* mE, I DID... so yeah, this is a lovely little thing I cooked up because I have no self-control and honestly we need more jeremichael fics. I hope y’all enjoy and let me know what you think!

(also I'm gonna tag @holographdick because I know you like jeremichael and anon-ed you once saying I'd write you some jeremichael, so I'm paying back what I owe)

Pairing: Jeremichael Warnings: Swearing & mentions of catatonic characters (they ain’t dead tho)

Jeremy doesn’t understand how Michael can sit so close to the ledge without being absolutely terrified.

The drop beneath them is huge, ridiculous, stupid; and yet, Michael’s ass is planted on the edge of the wooden platform, his legs dangling off into the abyss below him with little care for his own safety. Jeremy wants to pull him back, grab him by his collar and drag him back within the bounds of the wooden fence that Geoff built for them, but he knows Michael won't appreciate that. He knows he’s just paranoid, he knows that this feeling will settle once Ryan figures out how to heal, fix, cure Jack and Geoff; but until then, Jeremy doesn’t want Michael anywhere near the edge.

Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Gavin scramble his way up one of their newly grown oaks. He grabs for the branches widely, carelessly with little to no planning of his path and Jeremy can’t help but grit his teeth. Ryan is busy with the sieve behind him- cursing every few moments under his breath- and Jeremy can guess that he’s trying to sift through their reserve of gravel for something useful. Neither of them seems to care about Michael, neither of them seem bothered enough to ask him to come back away from the edge- so that makes it Jeremy’s job.

Careful steps, slow steps- there’s no way he’s going to let himself fall off into the abyss- he makes his way over to Michael. Closer now, Jeremy can follow Michael’s line of sight to the stars above them, eyes flickering between the planets with a frown etched into his features.

“I’m pretty sure that’s Earth,” he mumbles softly and Jeremy can’t help but freeze. He watches his friend lift his arm to point up towards the sky. “I’m talking ‘bout that- that green and blue one. I’m like ninety percent sure that’s Earth.” When he looks back over his shoulder at Jeremy, his eyes are glassy.

“Come away from the edge, Michael,” is all he says and God, his voice is barely above a whisper. Things aren't… sitting right within him right now; things aren’t like they used to be. Their base isn’t safe anymore, not that it really was, to begin with, but now- Jeremy can’t help but look at and pick out all of its flaws. The gaps in the fences, the holes in the floor- Jeremy knows that when Ryan figures out how to create lava, their little wooden home-base won't stand a chance. It's terrifying, but stone is hard to create and Jeremy knows there are better uses for it instead of as a flooring.

“It’s Earth, right Lil J? You remember, right?” he tries again and the best Jeremy can do is nod. “Oh good. What- what about that one?-” he moves his hand to the left- “do you know that one's name, Jeremy? The little red one.”

“Please Michael. I don’t- I don’t want you to fall off again,” he mumbles and the smile Michael offers him in return is like a punch to the stomach.

“I won't, I promise. What’s the little red one’s name, Jeremy?” he insists and Jeremy sucks in a breath.

“Mercury, Michael.”

“Oh yeah… do you- do you know all of their names, Jeremy?” he asks and Jeremy stares up at the sky. There’s shuffling from behind him and then the cool silk of Gavin’s scarf brushes against his bare arm. He shivers.

“I used to,” he replies and Michael hums softly.

“What was Earth like?” Gavin asks, and Jeremy bites at the inside of his cheek, hard enough to draw blood. He can’t remember most of it, but what he can makes his stomach turn inside out. The warmth, the steadiness, the way he could take twenty steps to the left without worrying about falling off the damned thing. It was better, he knows that, but he’s unsure if he would ever go back if he were given the chance.

“Warm,” is all he replies, though, cause he’s not quite sure he could say any more without his voice breaking. The question tumbles out of his mouth before he can think better of it, “What was falling like?”

Ryan’s the one who answers him. “Cold.”

Jeremy almost rolls his eyes, almost calls Ryan an asshole for deliberately feeding his own answer right back at him- but he doesn’t because Ryan’s different now. Jeremy’s not the only one who’s currently not sitting right, he’s not the only one that’s a little off balance. Jack and Geoff are gone- physically they’re still there, both of their bodies lying side by side in the small bed Gavin crafted- but mentally, nothing. They don’t talk, they don’t eat; they don’t move, they don’t sleep. The four of them don’t know why and they can’t attribute it to the fall- because while Geoff tumbled into the darkness along with Michael, Gavin and Ryan- Jack didn’t.

Jeremy had watched, he’d watched the floor disappear out from underneath them all and had heard their screams of panic. He watched four of his friends disappear into the darkness below him, only for them to reappear next to him a few moments later- only, different.

Different as in: Jeremy rushing to Michael’s side, only for Michael to reply with, “Who are you?” when he tries to touch him.

Different as in: Jeremy catching sight of Gavin’s wide eyes, staring off into the abyss around them as if he doesn’t quite understand how he got there.

Different as in: Ryan flinching away from human contact with a frown as Jack tries to check him for any injuries.

Different as in: Geoff pacing around what little of the platform they have left, panicked mutterings slipping past his lips.

And then, not even two minutes later, Jack and Geoff just cease to be. They just stop, bodies collapsing into a heap onto the wooden planks and Jeremy’s heart sinks when he realises he’s left with three other people who don’t remember him.

So it's different now. He can’t banter so easily with Ryan, can’t press up against Michael’s side with a grin and he can’t play fight with Gavin without getting a real, honest punch in return- because they aren’t quite used to Jeremy’s playful intentions anymore. They don't know him, not like he knows them. He hates it.

Ryan’s attention drifts away from him at the same time Gavin wanders back to his tree, and then he’s just left with Michael- who is still too close to the edge. Jeremy’s fingers itch to bury themselves in his curls, to tug his head back and smile down at the other man. Exchange affection like they used to, back when Ryan would growl at them good-naturedly for touching the leaves on their shared tree. Little touches, little compliments. Anything.

But he doesn’t.

Michael’s gaze flickers away from him, back to the planets illuminating the sky and Jeremy sighs, glancing away from him.

“Sit next to me,” he mumbles and Jeremy can’t help but suck in a breath. He wants to, oh God does he want to, but he doesn’t think he could handle being so close to the edge. While falling doesn’t necessarily mean death- although things could be different for Jeremy- he still doesn’t want to go over the edge. He doesn’t want to fall, he doesn’t want to fall, he doesn’t want to- Michael’s hand slips into his, snapping him out of his thoughts as their fingers intertwine. He tugs at his arm gently, trying to pull him down and Jeremy can’t help but follow the silent order. The slight edge of shock and the pathetically desperate way he misses Michael’s touch makes him easily malleable against Michael’s will.

He lowers himself to the floor, staying close to Michael's side and reluctantly lets his legs dangle off the edge. He doesn’t look down. He doesn’t dare risk it.

“I can barely remember it, Jeremy. It happened so fast, didn’t quite understand what was happening till it was too late,” he whispers and Jeremy tenses. “Things before that are blank, I don’t remember what I was doing before I fell. I don’t remember who I was and why I was there. But-” he sucks in a shaky breath- “but I do remember, I remember thinking as I fell, ‘God, I hope Jeremy’s okay.’”

A whimper slips past his lips at Michael’s words and Jeremy can’t help but deliberately turn his face away. But Michael doesn’t let him get away so easily, he twists his body and follows him; he grabs for Jeremy’s thigh, pressing his face into the crook of his neck, humming lowly.

“What were we, Jeremy? Before I fell?” he asks and Jeremy’s heart stops beating.

Lovers. Soulmates. Partners.

No.

“Friends,” is what he ultimately settles on and no matter how much he hates it, it's technically true. They never quite pushed things further between them, instead, they just let themselves sit comfortably on the edge between playful teasing and flirting. Looking back on it now, Jeremy hates himself for it. He missed his chance, he missed his fucking chance because his Michael is gone now. And Jeremy doesn’t think he’s ever going to come back.

“Why don’t I believe you,” Michael mumbles back. His fingers absentmindedly stroke along the inseam of Jeremy’s pants and every little touch sends electricity shooting up his spine. Michael’s hand is both simultaneously way too high and way too low, and Jeremy doesn’t know how to fix it.

This isn’t his Michael, he tries to remind himself.

But does that even really matter, though? he hesitates.

“Why do I feel at home whenever I’m around you, Lil J? Why does the ache in my chest disappear whenever I touch you? Why do I always end up gravitating towards you?” he whispers and his fingers still momentarily; But they’re still there on his thigh and Jeremy can still feel them, warm fingertips selfishly burning their way into his memory forever.

Does Michael know what he’s doing to him? Does Michael know that Jeremy’s falling apart right beside him?

“Why do I desperately want to kiss you right now, Jeremy, if we were only friends before,” he asks and Jeremy whines low in his throat.

Yeah, Michael knows.

“Michael- Michael, you shouldn’t,” he whispers back, breath catching in his throat.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t know who I am.”

“But I did, and I will again- so why wait for the inevitable, Jeremy when I can have you now.”

And then Michael kisses him.

It's hard to describe, but if Jeremy had to compare the feeling to something, he would almost assume he was falling. Right off the edge, tumbling into the darkness- but the funny thing is, he can’t find it in himself to care. Michael’s lips press against his- softly, gently, carefully- and his eyes involuntarily flutter shut, and the rest of the world just fades away. It's just them, it's just them, it's just them and Jeremy wants it to stay that way forever.

When Michael pulls away, Jeremy chases after him, but Michael doesn’t give in. He sucks in a deep breath and smiles, something that's a little too smug for Jeremy’s liking. It's something that his Michael would’ve done if they had kissed. And something clicks in Jeremy’s mind.

This is his Michael now.

“Yeah, I was right. I knew I didn’t want to wait for that,” Michael replies and Jeremy leans forward, resting his head against Michael’s shoulder.

“Come away from the edge, Michael,” he whispers and Michael’s fingers trail across the back of his neck.

“Yeah, good idea Lil J,” he mumbles back, “don’t want to fall off. Not again. Not now.”