#maybe i can get a decent knee brace with the hinge this time

[heidiamalia]

for the first time this year, my knee popped out and back into place in an attempt to get out of my car last night and now I am no longer just 85% focused on any joint clicks or quick turns I may make

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 29 ~Before We Do~

"if anyone can show just cause why this couple cannot lawfully be joined together in holy matrimony, let them speak now or forever hold their peace."

Jamie's gaze swept over their families and friends sitting on the benches. The church was small and intimate, with high ceilings and ornate stained-glass windows. The lilies were creamy white, and the faint scent of incense hung in the air. And Claire looked beautiful, from the flowing trail of her sheer lace veil to the elaborate pearl-encrusted train. She gazed at him with evident love, her beaming face a reminder of why he had fallen in love with her all those years ago.

And then the unforeseen happened.

"I object," a deep male's voice reverberated.

Loud gasps of shock permeated the air, and Claire spun around, her eyes filled with disbelief.

What the fuck?

Dressed in a sharp black suit, Frank stood up, arms extended as if in a last-minute plea. "Claire, I tried to move on, but you're the only one I've ever loved. I can't let you marry Jamie if there's still a chance for us."

For one endless, horrifying moment, everything went dead quiet. Jamie froze, his mind unable to compute the disaster unfolding before his very eyes.

Claire's face looked unsure as her gaze flicked from Jamie to Frank and then back to him again. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. It's always been Frank all along."

Another gasp from the crowd. The priest's jaw fell. Jamie watched in a daze as Claire dropped her bouquet of flowers and took a step back away from him.

"Claire?" he whispered, swallowing past the panic that threatened to choke him. "Why are ye doing this?"

Claire just shook her head, lifted the skirt of her dress and ran towards the door.

He stood frozen on the spot, unable to move or utter a word as he watched helplessly the love of his life run away from him. 

The door of the church slammed shut.

Jamie shot up, the scream trapped in his lungs. Sweat ran down his body, and his heart hammered painfully against his ribcage. In a state of haze and panic, he reached out for Claire, but she was gone. Grasping for something to ground him, he grabbed her pillow and clutched it against him. It was still warm from use. He dragged in a breath, drawing in as much of her essence as he could to calm his pounding heart. 

Finally, fully awake, he got up and swung his legs onto the side of his bed. Leaning over, he placed his hands on his knees and calmed himself. He heard Claire's voice in his head.  Long, slow breath through your nose, hold ... and count to three ... and exhale ... and relax.  And he did just that. 

It had been a while since he had nightmares and all had been of the shooting incident with Annalise. The bad dreams had stopped ever since he and Claire got back together. Sifting through his alcohol addled brain, memories of the night before came rushing in. There were snippets of his stag party, and then there were fragments of Claire's friends urging him to strip. The most vivid recollection of them all was Claire's impatience to get him out of his clothes once they were alone in the house. The thought of it flushed out the lingering bitter taste of the nightmare and replaced it with longing and anticipation.

It was their wedding day tomorrow and remembered he wouldn't see her until then. She was somewhere in some undisclosed location with Geillis, Lousie and Jenny. They were being prepared and pampered for the big day. He wished she had woken him up before leaving.

Pinning his bad dream to wedding jitters, Jamie quickly showered, dressed and made his way to the kitchen. He found Willie multitasking, pouring coffee into a mug, sifting through unopened mails with a phone tucked beneath his ear. A rapid stream of promises and assurances flew through the air. "Aye, dinna fash. Everything is in order, and we have the kilts ready." Pause. "Aye, we won't be late, and we'll be sober. Alright, I'll see ye tomorrow. Have fun." He put the phone down and let out a huge sigh. As soon as he saw his brother, he rolled his eyes. "Women think we can't function without them."

Jamie smiled and grabbed a coffee. "And yet, almost every day, we're relegated to the kitchen just because we're cooks."

Willie shook his head, poured them both a Bloody Mary from a pitcher and slid one over to him. "Drink. Just a wee hair of the dog to get ye going today. So, does Claire nag often?"

He choked out a laugh. "Is being ordered about the same as nagging?"

His brother's lips curved in a knowing grin. "Aye, definitely, but I ken ye wouldn't want Claire any other way. Oh, by the way, did ye have another one of those nightmares? I thought ye stopped having them."

Jamie stared. "How did ye know?"

Willie sipped his concoction. "I heard ye shout. Are ye still having bad dreams about the shooting?"

Jamie shook his head. "It wasn't the shooting. I dreamt Claire left me at the altar because of Frank."

"Really?" He braced both hands on the countertop and let out a whistle. "Frank, yer mate back in high school? A bit odd to be having a nightmare about him. The shooting I can understand. That was traumatic. I still have bad dreams about it too. But Frank?"

Jamie sat on the stool and massaged his throbbing thigh. "Claire was infatuated with him almost all her life."

"Ach,  bràthair,  are ye still bothered about that? Surely not."

He winced, feeling slightly embarrassed, but he forced the words out. "It's not about Frank. It's what he represents. Successful, a decent bloke even if he was a dickhead back then and he's making loads of money. I hope I'll be enough for Claire."

Willie nodded, lapsing into a thoughtful silence. "Ye will always be more than enough, Jamie. Ye and Claire share an incredible gift. There's a bond between the two of ye that is quite extraordinary and undeniable. Ye ken well, sometimes the mysteries of attraction cannot be explained through logic." He paused, trying to find the right words. "What I'm trying to say is, ye are both incomplete without the other. I dinna ken how else to explain it, but maybe, just maybe, it's the faults and cracks in yer personalities and hearts that become the very hinges that hold ye together. I dinna ken. But whatever it is that is between the two of ye, there's nothing in this world that could compete with the kind of connection ye both have. Ye and Claire are meant to be, that's all ye ever need to know. And that is more than enough." His answer was full of conviction and surety, it almost made Jamie choke with emotion.

"And ye loved her too," Jamie whispered.

Willie reached out and playfully ruffled his hair. "Aye, I did. Anyone in their right mind would love Claire. And I will never stop caring for her, Jamie ...as a brother."

"And ye? Are ye happy with Geillis?"

He slipped both his hands in jeans' pocket and smiled. "Geillis is a handful, but, aye I am very happy. We do argue a lot, though. Perhaps it's because of our age difference, our stubbornness ...I dinna ken. But one thing for sure ... she does keep me on my toes. And I must admit, making up after a fight is the best part," he admitted, winking mischievously.

This time Jamie laughed, a weight lifting off his shoulders. It was not often the brothers talked at a deeper emotional level, and it felt great. And he knew from then on, something shifted between them. "That's good. I want ye to have what I have, Willie ...and that's happiness."

An uncomfortable silence lapsed.

"Stop! Ye're getting all soft on me, wee bràthair!"  Willie joked, shoving him lightly on the shoulder and pushing the Bloody Mary in his hand. "Drink up, ma is expecting us for brunch. She might need a bit of help. Mind, Jenny is away with the bridal party."

Jamie was about to grab his drink when his phone vibrated. He glanced at the ID. "It's Claire..."

"Alright. I'll leave ye to it. I'll put our kilts in the car."

Jamie nodded and clicked on the phone. "Hey, ye didn't wake me up before ye left," he scolded gently, tidying up the countertop and putting empty cups into the sink. He could hear music and giggles in the background.

"I know, I'm sorry, but ye had a lot to drink last night. You needed your sleep." 

Images of last night's escapade after coming home from the pub flashed in his head. "Weel, ye didn't seem to think I needed sleep then. Ye couldn't wait to take my trousers off," he teased. He was quite sure she was blushing and wished he could see her face. "If I'd known striptease turns ye on, I would've done it sooner. Yer hands were all over me."

"Aww, was I too rough on you?" she asked in a husky voice. Jamie caught the amusement in her tone. Oh, she was bold when there was a distance between them. 

"Sassenach?"

"Hmmm?"

"Christ, I want ye now, and ye're teasing me. Ye think ye can go in a bathroom or something ...away from the lassies? Facetime maybe?" He craned his neck to see where Willie was. Looking through the window, he saw his brother was on the phone. 

"Jamie! You just have to wait until our wedding night," she admonished, pretending to sound shocked. He could tell she was turned on by his suggestion as he was. 

But then he saw Willie making his way back to the house. "Fine, I'll let ye go. But I promise ye there will be retribution for leaving without saying goodbye this morning."

She giggled. "Enjoy your brunch and tell ma and da I love them." He heard Louise in the background calling out to Claire to try her wedding undergarments on. He groaned.

"Will do," he replied, tamping down his frustration.

"And Jamie?"

"Aye?"

"I love you, and I can't wait to be your wife."

"I love ye too, Sassenach. Now go before I use the location app on yer phone to find ye." She heard her laugh before the phone went off. Shoving the phone on the back pocket of his jeans, he smiled and tried to shift his thoughts to puppies and nuns, instead of thinking of Claire. He sighed, and he knew it was going to be a very long day, indeed.

..........

Brunch was perfection. Jamie, Willie, Ian, his parents and Murtagh, feasted on Eggs Benedict, waffles and fruit salad. After their meal, Jamie stayed behind to help his mother clear up while the rest went fishing. 

Once all the dishes and cutleries were put away, Ellen made coffee, and Jamie settled back on the wooden chair, waiting for his mother to join him.

"Ma, did ye ever think you'd fail when ye first started the hotel?" he asked. "It was a lot to take on while running a household and raising four bairns."

Ellen smiled and sat next to him. "Of course I did. And I was scared, but I had yer da at my side. There is no shame in hard work or failure. Only in not trying."

He took a sip of his coffee. "I ken the hotel was da's dream. But ye ...ye always wanted to be an artist. I've seen yer paintings from when ye were young."

"Ah, that is true, son. It was difficult to give that part of myself up. But it wasn't only me who had to make sacrifices. Yer da had sacrifices of his own. We took it upon ourselves to run a hotel and never looked back. We had a few regrets and heartaches along the way, but our path has led us to three wonderful children and Claire. We never realise at the moment what our futures hold, but sometimes we must go on a leap of faith."

He sifted through her words, thinking of Claire being orphaned at such a young age. Fate had brought her to Lallybroch and to him. It was easier said than done to believe each moment, good and bad, has a purpose.

"Do ye remember what I told Claire the first time she asked about her real parents? She was about ten years old, I think," Ellen asked as if reading his thoughts.

Jamie blinked. It was the day Claire came home from school, looking sad. It was also around the time when her uncle Lamb recently died. She had come to him asking if her parents were really dead or if they've abandoned her in Scotland. It was apparent the bullies in school had given her the idea. "Aye, of course, I remember. You explained to her what really happened. And she asked ye if she was worthy of love because she felt abandoned and the kids in school were constantly mean to her. And you told her she was loved and had worth, and one day she'd see it."

She smiled at him. "Aye. And do ye remember the last thing I said?"

He played back the conversation in his memory. "Ye told Claire she was searching for something and that one day she'd find it. But she'd need to be brave enough to think she deserved it."

"Aye, that's right, my sweet darling boy. And that applies to ye too. All the hurt, losses and disappointments are part of who we are. The setbacks need not take over, and being brave does not mean the absence of fear. Loving someone and letting someone love ye is the hardest and most courageous thing ye will ever do. It's all about the choices ye make. Just like the choice Claire made in life. She could have chosen to cower in the corner and wallow in self-pity after what life had handed her. But no. She chose to fight, to love and to pursue happiness despite all odds because she believed, that she too is deserving and worthy. And ye need to believe that ye are worthy too."

He shifted in his chair. "It has always been Claire for me. Although, in the beginning, she only saw me as a big brother and as a friend."

Ellen threw her head back and laughed. "That's what ye thought. I've seen the way she looked at ye when ye weren't looking. But it was a good thing ye both didn't know what ye felt for each other back then. Otherwise, there would have been problems, especially living under the same roof."

"Aye, ye're probably right ...we were too young. I just want to make Claire happy, ma. She's been through a lot. I must have done something right to be deserving of her."

Ellen's smile was pure joy and pride. She reached out, twining her strong fingers with his. "Ach, lad, ye have the wisdom and gentleness that humbles me. Mind, ye've been through a lot too. I've watched ye grow up into a man I'm proud of, and ye are most certainly deserving of her as she is of ye. Ye've seen her at her worse and yet ye love her. Ye are Claire's other half, and she adores ye. I've always known that fact deep in my soul. Ye've continuously had each other's back and nae matter what life threw at ye, ye eventually found yer way back to one another. It only made sense that ye both fell in love."

Jamie stared at his mother. Her voice echoed to a place inside his soul, back to a time when he almost gave up on Claire and himself. But then another image took hold, one of Claire's face, open and laughing, her eyes full of love as she kissed him, held him and showed him everything was possible.

An odd nudge stirred in his heart. "What if I fail, ma?"

Her hand squeezed his harder, and she looked at him with tenderness. "Ach, there will be times when ye will fail, I will not lie. And when that happens, ye get up and try again. The prospect of joy and disaster is part of the package when ye love someone. Marriage will not be a walk in the park, mark my words. There will be sacrifices, heartaches and loss, but there will also be rewards that will make it all worth it. With Claire by yer side, ye will find the strength. I know because I raised her like my own. And that lass is a fighter. And I ken she will keep ye right."

The emotions snuck from the pit of his gut, took root and began to bloom. "Thank ye, ma."

Ellen stood up, took him in her arms and held him tight for a very long time. "Dinna fash, lad. Ye are more than enough for Claire," she whispered, stroking his hair.

..........

"Claire? They're ready."

She turned and smiled at Jenny, Geillis and Louise. They seemed to have forgotten to breathe as they stared at her in awe. "How do I look?"

Jenny shook her head, tears pricking her eyes. "So bonnie, I cannae even talk. And here I thought I was going to be the first to get married."

Claire's hair was twisted up into a spill of elegant curls, the veil cascading past her shoulders, highlighting the clean, sleek lines of the dress. Just like her, the bridal gown was classic, with its fitted bodice and a crisscross of shimmering pearls cinching the waist, then falling smoothly to the floor in sheer chiffon. Her simple heels added to her graceful stature. She held a small bouquet of forget-me-not and lily-of-the-valley, mixed with greens and tied in a rustic style.

Geillis sniffed. "Aye so very bonnie indeed that our wee fox cub will try to rush ye through the reception. But we won't let him." With her warm shade of burnished copper hair done up in French twist and pale skin, the soft blue tulle bridesmaid dress looked perfect. The girls had been excited about the dresses from the moment Jenny had shown a drawing sample. With a flattering V-neck, the dusty blue chiffon held a top layer of silver shimmer to make them look as if they were lit up.

Louise fanned her hand in front of her face. "Aww you're going to make me cry, and I don't want to ruin my make up."

Claire laughed. "Oh, look at all of you. So, so beautiful. Thank you so much for everything. I know I wanted a simple wedding, but you lot made everything extra special. I love you all so much. How do I get to be so blessed?" They all gathered around her for air kisses and quick hugs. Steadying herself, she drew in a deep breath. "Please, tell da, I'm ready."

Brian stepped in. "I'm here, sweetheart." 

Jenny gave a long sigh as she looked at her father. "Ach da, ye scrub up well, and ye look dashing." Then she turned to Claire. "We'll wait outside. I'll check and make sure everyone's in place. That should give both of ye a few minutes before the ceremony."

She nodded to the girls who left the room giggling. Then she faced the man who had been a father to her for most of her life.

"Da! I'm getting married!" Emotion struck her hard. She gazed at him, dressed in full glory and her throat tightened. He wore a traditional kilt paired with a Prince Charlie jacket, waistcoat and blue-grey ruche tie. The Hunting Clan Fraser tartan was in hues of blue, red and green and was accessorised with the customary sporran, black kilt hose and polished, black brogue shoes. He was as tall as his sons, and he looked handsome and distinguished with his thick dark hair peppered with gunmetal grey and piercing blue eyes.

" Mo nighean,  ye look like a princess," he said gruffly, taking her hand to kiss it. "Yer parents and uncle Lamb would be so proud."

She smiled, tears threatening to spill. "I wish they were here, da."

"I know, sweetheart, but believe me when I say, yer parents are here. How do I know? I know because ye exist," he said, touching her cheek tenderly. "And even if ye weren't marrying Jamie and even though ye are not my flesh and blood, ye were and always will be the daughter of my heart. And I couldn't be happier now that ye will carry our family name."

Childhood memories in Lallybroch flickered before her, of all of them laughing as they gathered in the kitchen. In the confines of the Fraser home, she was loved and cherished, and she belonged. "I love you, da," she said. They were the only words she could utter as emotions threatened to overwhelm.

"And I love ye, Claire," Brian replied. "I have loved ye every day of your life ever since I laid eyes upon ye. I will love ye for every day of mine and more."

She was about to say more, but Geillis peeked at the door and smiled.

"It's time."

Brian met her gaze and smiled. "Come now, sweetheart, let's get ye married. We don't want to keep Jamie waiting. He's been asking every few minutes when ye will be ready. If we make him wait some more, God knows what the lad will do."

She laughed as Brian tucked her hand in his arm and escorted her out of the room and made their way to the chapel.

[just-another-wasteland-merc]

Hi! Love your blog! When you get the time, could you write one maybe of Em getting kidnapped (maybe by the gunners as some sort of punishment for Mac) and our mister sniper dad coming to the rescue? Thanks love! 💕

[Absolutely! Thanks for the kind words! You made my day a thousand times better!]

RJ dragged himself through the darkened street of Sanctuary, finally ready to be home from a long day of job after job. He was satisfied with his work, finally a decent haul again, but the only thing on his mind was hugging his son and the love of his life, eating the delicious food she had made for the day, then going to bed. Under the streetlight’s glow, he spotted Dogmeat sprinting up to him, skidding to a stop, with his ears straight back, whining. 

“Hey, buddy,” RJ said, slightly worried. He reached out to pat the dog on the head, but pulled back when Dogmeat started tugging at his pant leg towards the house. 

“Alright, alright, let’s go,” he said, following him down the rest of the street before stopping at the doorway of the house, unslinging his rifle at the broken in door. He checked the street again, finally noting how everyone was in their homes, not a soul on the street. Checking his watch, he was on edge. He tiptoed to the door, finally pushing it open as it hung on one hinge. Stepping forward, he crunched on broken glass. The inside of the house was a complete disaster. As much as it scared him, he was a little relieved at the sight.

It meant whatever happened, Em put up a hell of a fight. When Dogmeat brought him a bandanna with the Gunner logo on it, his heart sank. 

Dammit, they got her, he thought. Please let Duncan be okay.

“Dunc?” he called. “Bud, are you here?”

He watched Dogmeat carefully pad on the floor to Duncan’s room. He yipped a couple of times, helping RJ look around. The mercenary sagged in relief when he suddenly heard “Dogmeat!” from down the hall, slinging his rifle over his shoulder, and scooping up Duncan into his arms.

“Daddy, I hid,” he said. “Mama said to run and hide, so I did.”

“You did so well, buddy,” RJ replied. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Mama yelled a lot, and a bunch of stuff broke, but then something happened and she didn’t yell anymore. Then it got quiet. I just stayed where I was.”

“Okay, bud.” He set the boy down. “I need you to gather up a couple of things, okay? I need you to get some stuff to hang out with Deacon for maybe a couple of days while Dad goes to find Mama and bring her back.”

“Okay.”

A while later, RJ had dropped Duncan off a few houses down by Deacon, then set off down the road. It took over a day to get there, but the sun hung low when he set up a small position on a rise near Gunner’s Plaza. The sight of the building made his blood boil, but he swallowed his anger enough to line up the crosshairs on a recruit and blow his head off in one shot. He picked them off one by one as they quickly went into a frenzy trying to find the shooter, until none were left standing, then managed to destroy the turrets with as few bullets as possible. 

He kept his distance when he went inside, only killing the ones that got into his way, creeping down halls, and eventually down the stairs. 

I know this all too well, he thought. Prisoners are always in the basement.

He froze when he heard voices where he knew the cells were.

“Come on, bitch,” one said. “Just tell us where he is.”

He heard someone spit, then a smack. 

Wait..what, he thought. He peeked around the corner. He couldn’t see her; the Gunner in front of her blocked his view, but he could figure that she was on her knees from the way the guy was looking down in front of him. One other stood watching them, a smug look on his face. Taking down the watcher first, the first guy spun around, then caught the second bullet in the forehead, earning a yelp from Em. 

“Em!” he cried as he slung his rifle again, stepping over the bodies to get to her. There was blood spattered on her bruised face. He didn’t think about how she looked as he unlocked the cuffs at her wrists behind her back, his hand supporting her as she slumped forward a little. He sighed as she finally looked at him. Her left cheek was bruised, purple and black, a red mark on her right cheek from the earlier slap, a dried streak of blood from her nose. 

“I’m okay,” she murmured. “Sore, but okay.”

“God, Em, I’m so sorry,” he replied. “I’d love to do this here, but we need to go. The place isn’t empty.”

“I can’t stand, yet.” 

“Alright. Hang on.”

He stood, hauling her up with him. She gripped his duster tight as his arm was around her. 

“Em, I can’t carry you out of here,” he warned. “It isn’t safe.”

“Just help me get to the stairs.”

She had a bad limp, so he took as much time as she needed while still trying to hurry out. She braced herself on the wall, then gripped the railing to the stairway.

“Go,” she commanded. “Clear a path. I’ll get there.”

“Just get up the stairs before I die of old age, hm?” he joked.

She gave a fake laugh. “You’re so fucking funny!” she replied sarcastically. “Up the stairs, hotshot.”

Guiding her out the same way he went in, he scooped her up into his arms as soon as they made it outside, heading back towards the rise he hid on earlier. Em fished out a flare, setting it off, then tossed it away, a brilliant red light burned on the ground. 

“RJ, there’s no way we can get anywhere with my ankle like this,” she reasoned as he eyed her. “The vertibird will come, we just have to wait.”

He gave a small nod, sinking to the ground in front of her on his knees, gently taking her face in his hands. She leaned into his touch, her eyes slowly blinking at him. She smiled, one of her hands eventually covering his. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said softly. 

“It is,” he replied, sighing. “They were trying to get to me through you, I know it.”

“They were looking for you, yes, but that doesn’t mean that it’s your fault.” She rocked forward and kissed him, not breaking the kiss as she adjusted to her knees, her hands holding his face to hers. He only pulled away to let his head fall to her shoulder, holding her tight against him. One of Em’s hands went to the nape of his neck, the other wrapped around his shoulder. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” she murmured.

“I’ll always come for you,” he immediately answered. 

They broke apart only when they heard the chopper come to pick them up to head back to Sanctuary, ready to head home, hug Duncan, and start healing.

[ezzydean]

step, parry

@notsuchasecret @ryekamasaki

:  )

The problem with caring about things, Kei had learned fairly quickly, was that with the caring tended to come that pesky little thing called feelings.  Feelings were like calculus.  Far too cumbersome and something that could stay far away from him thank you very much.  Unfortunately feelings were like calculus.  Required.   For some awful reason that he isn’t sure he wants to know.  All he wants, and he’s pretty certain he isn’t being entirely unreasonable here, is a decent night’s sleep, a passing grade on his next exam, to be able to bend his fingers without wanting to scream, and to not break down and start bawling right here in the middle of class.

He can feel it tight in his throat, feel his eyes burning, his cheeks flushing.  Everything is off balance, unsettled inside him in a way he can’t quite break apart and examine.  Not that he really wants to examine any of it.  Feelings, emotions, wants, needs, things he cares about.  They’re all a jumble of knotted wires, spitting sparks and daring him to try to touch them.  Just one touch, they whisper to him, one touch.

The first tear slips free as he shuffles into the darkness of the storage closet in the gym; he hadn’t broken down in class, so hey, score one for him.

There isn’t even a reason, nothing concrete that he can point to and scream ‘it’s all your fault’ and lay the blame on.  Just these whirls of thoughts and wisps of unease and his shaking fingers and the air thick in his chest as he tries to remember to breathe and not bite through his own lip to stifle himself even though there’s not a soul around to hear him.  Time loses meaning as his breathes come out in shuddered gasps and his throat burns and he nearly doubles over before he stumbles towards the back wall where a stack of mats and boxes await his collapse.  Though he knows he’s missed at least two classes, possibly three, and if he stays here much longer someone will eventually stumble onto his hiding place.

He wants someone to find him.  Wants someone to flip the light on and see the tears on his red cheeks and see his puffy eyes and hear his hoarse voice and the way his breath is catching.  Wants them to see him with his walls nothing but rubble and dust and sand shifting away under water.

His stomach twists.

He dreads the thought of someone finding him.  Someone flipping the light and seeing everything about him ripped open like this and scattered like confetti.  Someone coming in and sifting through the mushy mess of his emotions and scraping him raw.

The sound of approaching footsteps reaches through his haze a moment too late for his flight or fight response to kick in and he simply slumps down, making himself as small as possible as the door swings open on creaky hinges.

He braces for the light but he must let out some noise or shift on the boxes or something because the figure in the doorway pauses.  Each second the light stays off Kei feels himself relaxing marginally.

“Tsukishima?”  Whatever tension had eased from him comes back tenfold as Tanaka’s soft voice reaches him.  Tanaka’s voice isn’t one made for softness, not in Kei’s experience, and Kei isn’t made to receive that softness, which makes the ten seconds that Tanaka stands in the light of the doorway some sort of surreal dream and Kei wonders if he’s hallucinating.  The closet darkens as Tanaka steps inside and the door shuts behind him.

Kei listens to the sound of Tanaka shuffling through in the darkness and feels the warmth radiating from Tanaka as he steps up to Kei.

“Touch?”  Tanaka asks.  He stands within reach but doesn’t move any closer.  Kei wants him to.  Wants him to take the decision out of his hands and just reach out for him.  But Tanaka knows his boundaries these days, their new team knows his boundaries, and he waits patiently.  Patience is another thing that doesn’t suit Tanaka yet somehow does and it makes Kei’s fingers twitch, that contradictory nature.  Though he’s just as contradictory.  Which is why he curls in on himself even as he hooks his heel around Tanaka’s shin and pulls him closer.

Tanaka’s hand is warm on his knee for a minute while he waits for Kei to acknowledge the touch.  Kei wants to leave, find a new corner to curl up in, shove away the warmth in front of him and inhale the cool, stale air of the closet.  He tangles his fingers in Tanaka’s shirt and drops his head just as Tanaka steps forward.

He’s pretty sure he’s getting snot on Tanaka’s shirt but Tanaka is warm where he’s standing between Kei’s legs and his arms are tight around Kei’s shoulders and he’s holding Kei like there’s nothing more important to him in the world and he hasn’t said a word about Kei’s shuddering sobs and there’s really nothing Kei wants to do about the situation right now other than just continue crying with his face mushed into Tanaka’s chest until he’s completely wrung out and empty inside.  So he does.  And Tanaka lets him without saying a word even when Kei stops crying and slides into shuddery breaths and tiny hiccups that will embarrass the hell out of him later but for now he just lets happen with a reluctant acceptance.  He even leans into Tanaka’s chest when his hug becomes softer and one hand slides from his shoulder and up into his hair, a sensation that makes him just want to start sobbing again even though he’s exhausted now.

Tanaka’s chin drops onto the top of Kei’s head and he grimaces a little when Tanaka digs it in.  But it’s an anchor for him.  Just like the arm around his shoulder and the fingers in his hair and the warmth of Tanaka standing between his legs.

“So are we playing hooky and stuffing ourselves with cake and ice cream instead of going to practice today?”

Kei snorts and rubs his nose on Tanaka’s shirt.  Then he groans softly and pushes himself off the boxes, standing so that now it’s Tanaka’s face pressing into his chest and his chin resting on Tanaka’s head.

“As tempting as that sounds if we skip practice you’re gonna be in serious trouble.”

Tanaka shrugs.  “It would be worth it.”

“I am not worth Himura’s wrath.”

Tanaka scoffs and nods his head so he’s bumping Kei’s chin.  “Our captain doesn’t scare me.”

“Well I find him mildly unsettling and he comes with two other annoyances so I’d really rather just deal with practice.  We can stuff ourselves with cake and ice cream later.”

His throat is tight and his fingers twitch as the movie plays on in the background, explosions and car chases white noise that masks Tanaka’s quiet snores from his spot passed out with his head in Kei’s lap.  He’s still a jumble of knotted emotions, live wires sparking in the night, but as Tanaka snorts and mutters something in his sleep before he turns and buries his face against Kei’s stomach he realizes he feels grounded.  

Feelings are still an unavoidable requirement in life but maybe they aren’t quite so terrible sometimes.