#my incoherent ramblings this has been going round and round my mind since yesterday
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wait 'ever fallen in love (with someone you shouldn't've)' by the buzzcocks is like the ultimate prongsfoot song from sirius' perspective about james oh my god like sirius in the hogwarts years thinking he should NOT have fallen in love with james not at ALL because he's lily's. james isnt his to have. (or so he thinks) .... 'And if I start a commotion/ I run the risk of losing you and that's worse' .... SIRIUS NOT EVER CONFESSING TO JAMES THAT HE LOVES HIM BECAUSE WHAT IF THAT RUINS EVERYTHING OF COURSE IT WOULDNT JAMES WOULDNT LET IT BUT WHAT IF JAMES PITIES HIM NOW OR IS CAREFUL WITH HIM OR LOOKS AT HIM SADLY AND ITS NOT THE SAME ANYMORE!!!!!! 'I can't see much of a future/ Unless we find out what's to blame, what a shame/ And we won't be together much longer/ Unless we realize that we are the same' sirius literally not even picturing any future bc the sum total of his dreams and hopes is ... just james. THEY WONT BE TOGETHER MUCH LONGER BC THEIR SCHOOLDAYS ARE COMING TO AN END!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! THEY HAVE TO GROW UP NOW!!!!!!!!! unless unless unless ... james realises theyre the same ....
#personal#prongsfoot#bambibelle#my incoherent ramblings this has been going round and round my mind since yesterday#sirius x james
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Best Part of Me -Chapter 88
Warnings: none
Tagging: @tragiclyhip, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007
The final attempt at sleep had been successful. Although the road ahead of him is destined to be long and extremely difficult -and no doubt agonizing- his brief moment of wakefulness had done wonders to life Esme’s spirits. That chance to speak to him; to see him open his eyes and know -with one hundred percent certainty- that he was able to acknowledge her. It wasn’t a drug induced incoherent rambling or hallucination. He actually saw her and was able to engage; giving appropriate responses and showing concern for her and the baby. Able to express how he was feeling and that telling her he loved her. No one could ever possibly understand how just incredible that small moment was, or what an enormous impact it had on her state of mind. She knows it won’t be easy. There will be weeks, even months, of healing; tremendous pain and more hard times than easy ones. A full recovery could take as long as a couple of years; countless rounds of physical rehab will be needed and most likely therapy for mental health and addiction issues. But he’s already shown just how tenacious and strong he actually is; his will to live a lot more powerful than the agony he’s experiencing. With so much to live for, his desire to be with his family again is his main driving force, and she knows he’ll be willing to do whatever it takes to get back on his feet again.
Nathan may have been able to break his body, but he hadn’t made a dent in his spirit.
The burden she’s been carrying -the fear, worry, and uncertainty- had been lessened, and she’d been able to drift off; both body and mind allowing her to rest. So soundly in fact, that she’d only briefly stirred in the wee hours of the morning when Julie had come in while on her rounds. Merely lifting her head from the pillow; quietly observing as the nurse switched empty IV and medicine bags with full ones. Then she’d simply rolled over, pulled the blankets over her head, and easily drifted off.
Her sleep once again had been filled with dreams of the past. Millie’s first steps and how ecstatic and proud Tyler had been; never getting to experience many of Austin’s milestones because of deployments. How tearful he’d been the morning he’d walked into her room and Millie -who’d been standing up in her crib, excitedly bouncing up and down at the mere sight of him- had called him ‘daddy’ for the very first time. And the way he’d broken down in the delivery room when the twins had been born -even harder than he had when his daughter came into the world- and the nurse had given him TJ and said “Here’s your son”. He’d lost his first, and getting that moment again -a baby boy presented to him- had profoundly affected him A man that rightfully shouldn’t even have been alive. Who’d been given a second chance and at times didn’t feel as if he deserved it. There are still times he thinks that way. When the demons of the past resurface and play havoc on his brain; convincing him that the mistakes of a younger man and the amount of blood on his hands has turned him into a monster. It’s the nightmare of living with mental health issues and PTSD; those dark moments where he questions his mere existence and openly states that he doesn’t deserve the life he has now; a wife and children that love and accept him unconditionally.
It’s hard for people to understand. How a man that is so big and so strong -and often intimidating- can have those kinds of thoughts and vulnerable moments. But they don’t know everything that he’s battled. His childhood is one of his best kept secrets; only her and Koen know the full extent of his father’s behaviour, the abuse inflicted, and the long term damage it has caused. It’s not something he readily talks about; even with her. That toxic masculinity still gets the better of him at times. His father’s attempts at beating into him that a man -a REAL MAN- doesn’t show emotion; it means that he’s weak and there’s nothing more pathetic than being weak. And she’s tried to break him of it; years spent assuring him that he isn’t a weak man. A weak man would have given up in that storage facility. In the same way he would have given up on the Sultana Kamal Bridge seven years ago. And he certainly never would have survived the nightmare of his upbringing. Nor would he be so determined to be a better man; the kind of husband and father that a wife and kids can brag about and proud of. Who never have to live in fear of him ; cowering every time he raises his voice or even comes too close to them. Who know -beyond the shadow of a doubt- how much he loves him.
Tyler Rake is anything BUT weak. And he’d shown that the night before. Somehow finding a way to battle his way through this thick haze of multiple medications; gathering the strength to not only open his eyes, but actually think coherently and communicate. He was right. He DOES do whatever he wants.
When she finally wakes, it’s to the patter of rain against the window and the sounds of hospital life trickling through the half open door. Doctors being paged, the shrill ring of patients’ using their call buttons to summon for help, the loud rattle of gurneys being pushed through the halls. It’s a harsh reminder of her current situation; stuck in the ICU of a private hospital in Dhaka, thousands of miles away from her children and the comforts and security of her own home. She misses it. The sound and the smell of the ocean. The morning breeze and sunshine as she stands out on the back deck enjoying that first cup of tea, watching her husband as he helps Millie and the twins search -and dig, at times- for shells, rocks, and beach glass. Often wondering who is enjoying the quality time more; father or children. The dinners cooked on an open fire down by the water; the smiles brought to their faces -and that unconditional love and immense pride in his eyes- as they watch their children play and listen to those little voices and musical giggles floating on the air. And those strong, protective arms wrapped around her from behind as she sits between his legs. Her head resting against his chest as they quietly marvel at the sky; painted vivid shades of orange and pink as the sun sets.
It’s a life she had never even dared to dream about; a beautiful home in an even more even more beautiful place, amazing children and a husband that is faithful and loyal and only has eyes for her. All those things that she’d come to believe SHE didn’t deserve and had long ago given up on finding. How poetic in a way; two broken people coming together to make a slightly dented whole.
Sighing heavily, she rolls from side to back; eyes closed as she stretches and yawns The morning sickness has returned. With a vengeance. More than likely made worse by lack of food and the stress and worry that have accompanied the last twenty four hours. When she manages to quell the threatening nausea and brief spell of dizziness, she opens her eyes and sits up, finding a small paper bag sitting on the extra pillow beside her; name written on the front of it in black marker. And the contents bring the first genuine smile since yesterday morning; aside from Tyler’s brief period of consciousness. A bottle of prenatal vitamins, a small carton of chocolate milk, and an enormous blueberry muffin. Accompanied by a handwritten note from Julie; asking Esme to promise she’ll look after herself AND the baby, assurance that she’ll be back on in the evening, and her home phone number. The latter being offered as not only a ‘helpline’ if she feels overwhelmed and scared and needs someone to vent and cry to, but so she can give the nurse a list of some of her favorite foods. Julie vowing to bring a selection when she clocks in for her shift. It’s refreshing; having someone WANT to take care of her in that motherly fashion. Especially when her own has been anything but.
She shoves her feet into her sandals and climbs off the bed; returning it to its couch form. “Hey baby,” she greets as she stands at the side of Tyler’s bed; combing her fingers through his hair and pressing her lips to his temple. “Good morning. I hope you slept god. You didn’t snore, I know that much. That’s a first, huh? Me not complaining about your snoring? Must have been a really good sleep for you to be THAT quiet. You deserve it; that kind of sleep. Your face looks a little better, I think. Not as swollen. Pretty bruised though. And you’re going to have a couple wicked scars at the end of this.”
Her fingers gently touch the stitches below and above his eye.
“You’d probably joke about how it balances your face out; the right catching up with the left in the scar department. I think they’re going to make you even sexier. Which should be illegal, if you ask me. One man being that sexy? No wonder you’re a DILF. The thirsty ladies may drive me crazy, but I can’t really blame them. Right now I’m kind of mad at you though. I am so nauseous. And I swear, the bump is even bigger this morning...look…” she pushes her fingers through his, then draws their joined hands through the safety railing and places them on her stomach. “...bigger, right? You can’t tell me this is normal. None of the other ones were this size so soon. Not even Declan, and he was over ten pounds when he was born. And you better not be thinking multiples; one is all we can handle right about now. Let’s not bite off more than we can chew, alright? Six is more than enough. And speaking of babies, I’m going to ask Ovi to bring Addie here. She’s tiny still, Tyler. She shouldn’t be away from us this long. Especially me. She needs to be with her momma. And I think it would do you some good, too; having at least one of them here. So that’s my decision and you’re just going to have to live with it.”
She moves his hand back inside the confines of the bed, gently setting it on the mattress
“I love you,” she says, and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You keep sleeping, okay? And I hope if you’re dreaming, it’s good things for a change.”
****
She gives a small start when she exits the bathroom and finds Koen sitting in the bedside chair. Sipping from a take out cup of coffee and freshly shaven; his face bearing its own fair share of bruises and a handful of butterfly bandages keeping small, superficial wounds closed.
“Morning, sunshine!” He cheerfully greets, and nods to the cup of tea and a bag of fast food breakfast sitting on the window ledge. “I finally get to see you in your sexy jammies.”
Esme gives a derisive snort. “You DO have issues if you find sweatpants and an oversized shirt sexy,” she says as she journeys over to the window “I was going to give you shit for scaring the crap out of me, but seeing as you come bearing gifts, I’ll let it slide.” She peers into the bag, a grin tugging at her lips. “Either it was just a lucky guess, or you somehow know that when I’m pregnant, I always crave breakfast burritos.”
“There’s a lot I know about you. Someone talks about you. All the time. Mostly about shit I don’t need to know.”
“Well I’m glad you listened. Because this is a very nice surprise. Thank you,” she lays a hand on his shoulder and presses a kiss to his cheek. “And what’s up with this?” She lightly taps a hand against the side of his face. “All cleaned up. Smooth like a baby’s bum.”
“I thought there might be some hot nurses walking around. Want to put my best foot forward. Maybe you can hook me up; put in a good word for me.”
“Why would you want to hook with someone here? You’ll be going home soon.”
“Exactly.”
“Ewww…” she grimaces. “...I don’t need to know that you’re a ‘pump and dump’.”
“Considering the things I’ve had to hear from you and him?” Koen nods in Tyler’s direction. “What I said is tame. I’ve actually had to listen to you two….”
“I thought you were moving on from random hookups?” Esme remarks, and she perches on the arm of his chair and delves into one of the burritos. “I thought you were getting too old for that shit?”
“Excuse me, who are you calling old?”
“I thought Tyler was rubbing off on you. That he was some sort of inspiration to you and Rata; convincing you two it was time to stop sowing your wild oats and settle down once and for all. Didn’t you say it gave you hope? That if...and I quote…’someone can put up with the likes of him, that’s proof there IS someone out there for everyone’.”
“I did say that.”
“So what gives? Why are you looking for a random? You deserve more than that”
“Well if he was awake and could tell me where to find another one of you, I’d be all set.”
“Sorry. I’m limited edition. And I’ve already been claimed. A couple breakfast burritos just aren’t enough to make me divorce my husband and run away with you. It definitely takes more than that.”
“I knew I should have gotten you hash browns too.”
“That would have done it! Boy, did you ever blow that. I would have for sure ran away with you. Right this very second.”
“You know, as much as I enjoy our little banter, I don’t think I could handle you.”
“Oh, you definitely couldn’t. It takes a special breed of man, believe me. And I’m serious; aren’t you tired of NOT having someone to call your own? Someone to go home to at the end of the day? Someone that is your ‘be and end all’? Your ‘ride or die’?. You deserve to be happy. I WANT you to be happy.”
“I think Tyler took all the happy and didn’t leave any for anyone else.”
“When we get home, I am finding someone for you. I don’t care what it takes; I will put you on every dating site out there.”
“What about your sister? Or step sister. Whatever she is.”
“Riley? Are you serious? She’s twenty three!”
“And?”
“And you’re thirty years older than she is!”
“How old do you think I am?”
“I know you’re eight years older than Tyler. He’s almost forty two. So I lied; you’re only twenty seven years old than she is.”
“And?”
“And that’s fucking disturbing!”
Koen shrugs. “She’s cute”
“She is. You know who else finds her cute? Women. Who she is into. And she’s not a switch hitter.”
“Doesn’t take after her older sister, huh?”
Esme frowns. “He told you THAT, too?”
“He’s told me a lot of things, sunshine. You forget; he’s a chatty drunk. Until he’s a depressed and weepy drunk, that is.”
“There are many sides to him you don’t get to see. Sober sides. And don’t worry; my sister isn’t in contention, but I WILL find someone for you. And speaking of someone, where’s your sidekick?”
“He saw something downstairs he liked.”
“Really…” she playfully wriggles her eyebrows. “...blond or brunette?”
“Something in the gift shop. For the baby.”
“He knows?”
“EVERYONE knows.”
“Yaz has a big mouth,” Esme grumbles. “We weren’t going to tell anyone until we got home and found how far along I am. It’s what Tyler and I wanted.”
“I could gather a guess. About how far.”
“Sure you could,” she mutters. “And why do you keep looking at me like that? Why do you keep staring at my crotch?”
“I’m looking at your stomach. Where’d that come from?”
“It’s been there. I’ve just been hiding it because no one was supposed to know! Now that everyone does, I guess I don’t have to wear baggy clothes anymore. And it’s big, right? The bump? Bigger than any of the others?”
“How should I know? I only saw you pregnant with Millie and Addie. Never saw you with any of the boys.”
“It’s never been like this so soon! How big IS this baby?”
“Look at the size of the kid’s father. Maybe it’s taking after him. Or maybe there’s more than one.”
“Why would you do that? Why would you think it? Don’t put that out into the universe. There’s just one. That’s it. That will make it six. A nice even number.”
“Number six must be pretty damn big then.”
“You know what? You’re off my Christmas card list. There’s no way we’re running away together. You totally shit the bed. No second chances for you.
“What if I bring you chocolate?”
“Not even then. You just had to jinx the entire thing.”
Koen gives an over dramatic pout.
“Buddy, I have seen better pouts on a much bigger man. That won’t work on me. You have nothing on Tyler’s pout.”
“He doesn’t pout.”
“He sure as shit does. I’m going to prove it one day. I’m going to catch him doing it and take a picture. Then I’ll have the evidence. Tanner has the EXACT same pout; he mostly does it when he’s sleeping.”
“Speaking of pictures, I’ve got a little something for ya.” Koen reaches into the side pocket of his cargo pants, pulling out his cell and then thumbing through the gallery; choosing the image he wants and offering the phone to her. “Thought it would make you smile. The world’s a shitty place when you don’t. You got yourself a pretty nice smile.”
“You’ve been taking ass kissing lessons from the best, haven’t you,” she chides, then pops the last of her breakfast into her mouth and wipes her hands on her thighs. “Oh...my...god…” she breathes, and almost squeals in delight at the sight before her. Her husband long before the hardness and weariness brought on by his time in the military, substance abuse issues, and the dangers of the job. Before all of those demons took hold of him and he’d yet to go under a tattoo artist’s needle and no scars marred his body. Tall and lean; broad shouldered and bearing the start of the strong and solid physique of a soldier. A brush cut and a smooth, clean face; the smile -genuine and pure- making his eyes crinkle and sparkle.
“Back when he couldn’t even grow a proper beard yet,” Koen muses. “When he was still wet behind the ears. Nothing hard ass about that bloke in the picture, is there.”
“Where did you get this?” Esme can’t explain it; the tug at her heart and the emotion choking at her and the tears that well in her eyes. There’s something so surreal about it; seeing the person you love long before a hard and unpredictable life got a hold of them.
“Found a box of old pictures when I was going through some stuff back home. Meant to show it to him, but never got around to it. You mentioned before that you’ve never seen what he looked like before...well...before all of this.”
“I’ve only ever ever seen one picture of him. When he was five; with his mom on his first day of kindergarten. He doesn’t have any other ones; he says it’s not worth the grief he’ll get if he asks his dad if he has any. This is…I don’t know...it’s amazing. You have no idea what this means to me; seeing this. ESPECIALLY right now. This is everything. You can’t possibly understand what this does for me.”
“I think I do. I know how you feel about him. That you’re just as much a fool in love as he is.”
“I certainly am,” she smiles. “How old is he here?”
“Nineteen. Hadn’t been out of basic long; a couple weeks maybe. When he was a cocky little shit and as green as fresh baby shit. Cute, ain’t he?”
“Very cute. It’s weird seeing him like this. I’ve only seen MY Tyler. The one I’ve spent seven years with. I’ve never seen THIS Tyler. I know that sounds strange.”
“I’ve heard stranger.”
“Fourteen year old me would have had a huge crush on him.”
“What was fourteen year old Esme like?”
“Awkward. Geeky. Short as fuck and chubby. I had braces and jet black hair and I dressed like a goth. Big old Doc Marten boots that went up to my knees and everything.”
“Now THAT I’d like to see.”
“I don’t even have pictures of ME when I was that young. Tyler’s never seen old photos of me, either. I think the youngest he’s ever seen me was when I was twenty-three and just got into the Corps. It’s what happens; when your family is toxic and you’d rather not deal with them. Can you send this to me? I’d love to have this. And I’d love to show the kids. Especially Millie. She’d like to see her daddy when he was young and cute.”
“I’ll send it to ya. And when we get home, I’ll bring that box down and we can go through it. I’m sure there’s more you’d love to have. “
“Thank you.” She can’t hold back the tears. “You have no idea what it means to me. Even just having one picture. And I’m sorry; that I’m a whiny bitch baby. I would like to be able to blame it on the baby and my hormones, but it’s not those things. It’s just me. I’m not exactly having the best twenty four hours. I miss my kids. I hate being so far away from them. Especially Addie. But I can’t leave Tyler here. I just can’t.”
“I could stay,” Koen offers. “He wouldn’t be alone, you know that.”
“And I appreciate it, I do. But I need to be here with him. I didn’t leave him seven years ago, and I’m sure as hell not leaving him now. It’ll be better; when he gets sent to a hospital back home. Closest one is an hour from the house. It’ll be better than.”
“Well I’ll stick around as long as you need me to. Sort of made a promise that I’d take care of ya. I ain’t breaking it.”
“You’re all heart, Koen. You can pretend to be surly and hard ass all you want. I’m onto you.”
“Yeah, well I kind of like that giant, dumb ass bloke you’re married to. And you’re growing on me. So I figure I might as well step up and take his spot and treat like you like the queen you are.”
“You smooth talker,” she teases, ruffling his hair and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. For the picture. You really don’t know how grateful I am for it. And thanks for being here; for both of us.”
“Anytime, sunshine.”
“And thank you for being with him yesterday. I could tell he was scared and in pain, and when I think what would have happened if he’d been alone…”
“Well he wasn’t. Alone. So don’t even think about that.”
“Thank you for getting him out of there. At least if he DID die, he wouldn’t have been left there. I don’t think I’d ever get over that; if I had to leave him here. I couldn’t cope with that.”
“Let’s not think about that, yeah? He got through it. He got out of there and it’s only uphill from here.”
“He really thought he was going to die, didn’t he.”
“Honestly? We all thought he was going to die.”
She releases a long, shaky sigh and blinks back tears. “I’m glad you were there with him. At least if the worst happened, he wouldn’t have been by himself. That is my biggest fear when it comes to the job; that if it DOES happen, he’ll be alone. I don’t know why it bothers me as much as it does. I just don’t want him to be alone...you know...IF…”
“Can’t dwell on stuff like that. You’ll drive yourself insane. Or give yourself gray hair.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t already HAVE gray hair.”
“I don’t see anything.”
“I appreciate you feeding my ego, but I know you can see it. And believe, every one of my gray hairs has Tyler’s name on them. Maybe TJ too. Go figure; the junior being a TRUE junior.”
“That kid is his dad through and through. Tough on the outside, all heart on the inside. And that Millie…”
“Female version of him.”
“Exactly. It’s fitting if you ask me; him having a girl first and her being just like him. Gonna have his hands full with her.”
“She called last night. Wanting to talk to him. She had a bad dream and he always makes her feel better after a bad dream. Daddy’s the one that chases all the monsters away. She has so much faith in him; she knows he’d never ignore her. She’s already questioning why she can’t get a hold of him. I have to tell them; I can’t keep lying to them. And I’d rather they hear it from me than someone else. They’ll take it better if it comes from me, I think.”
Koen nods in agreement.
“But on the bright side, he had a really good night. An amazing night, actually. He woke up. Twice. Once for the nurse, once for me.”
Koen frowns.
“What?”
“He woke up?”
Esme nods. “The first time, Julie...his night nurse…said he woke up and wanted to know who the hell she was and that he asked for me. And he even told her he was feeling sick and she gave him some meds for it.”
“Hmm…”
“Second time, he opened his eyes and looked right at me. Told me to not cry. He said he wasn’t in any pain and that he was just tired. And he asked if the baby was okay and he said he loved me. It was amazing; to see him open his eyes and hear his voice.”
“Are you sure? That this happened?”
“What do you mean am I sure? Of course I’m sure. Why wouldn't I be?”
“Thought the doctor said they weren’t going to bring him out sedation for a few days? At least.”
“Julie said it isn’t uncommon; moments of wakefulness and some lucidity. It’s just sedation, it’s not a medically induced coma like last time.”
“He actually woke up? After everything he went through during the day? All the surgeries, the amount of meds they’re pushing into him? He opened his eyes and talked to you?”
“That’s exactly what happened. Why are you questioning it? I wouldn’t lie about this.”
“I’m not saying you’re lying. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe you were hallucinating from lack of sleep.”
“I wasn’t dreaming and I wasn’t seeing things. He woke up, looked at me, and talked to me. It happened. It was real.”
“Esme, don’t take this the wrong way, but maybe it was wishful thinking on your part and…”
“It happened,” she insists. “I was there. I witnessed it.”
“And I was there in that storage and in that van. I know what kind of shape he was in; I know how close he was to lights out. Permanently. And you’re telling me, after all the injuries, all the surgeries, all the meds, he just woke up? The same day?”
“I know it sounds crazy. And I wouldn’t believe it if someone told me either. But I SAW it. With my own two eyes. And you know how tough he is; how damn stubborn he is. Does it really surprise you that of all the people who would fight THIS hard, it’s Tyler? You know him; you know how strong he is. You know he’d do anything for me and the kids. So is that big of a stretch that he’d wake up like that? Even if it was just to give me some hope?”
Koen sighs.
“He woke up AND he talked to me. And you know what? It was incredible and made me feel better; to know his brain is working and that he’s not giving up. I needed that; some kind of sign that he’s going to be okay And he gave it to me.”
“So why isn’t he awake now?” Koen challenges.
“Maybe he used up all his energy last night and he needs to build it back up again.”
“If he’s got it in him to wake up last night, he should be awake right now. I’ve got some shit to say to him for scaring me as bad as he did. How come he’s not up now and talking to me?”
“I don’t know. I only know what happened last night. I only know…”
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,” Tyler’s voice -weak, groggy, and slightly slurred by the effects of medication- pipes up. “Now shut the fuck up. You’re given me a headache.”
“See!” Esme smiles triumphantly. “I told you.”
****
When she returns from taking a much needed shower, she finds Rata outside Tyler’s room tightly clutching a gift bag from the shop in the front lobby and pacing at a near frantic rate. It’s odd to see him this way, clearly frazzled and nervous shoulders tense; chewing on his bottom lip and occasionally stopping and peering into the room. Normally he’s the ‘life of the party’; clueless in an adorable way, always acting far less intelligent than he actually is just to get a laugh. Possessing an air of confidence without an ounce of cockiness; quick with sarcastic comments and witty comebacks. The ‘uncle’ that always sits at the kids’ tables during Christmas dinner and then helps build lego sets and put together toy car race tracks instead of socializing with the adults.
“Hey you,” she warmly greets, and lays a comforting hand on his back. “You okay?”
He responds by wrapping her in a huge; strong, muscular arms noticeably trembling.
“You alright?” Esme asks, as she runs her hands up and down his biceps. “You don’t look so good. What’s going on?”
“I don’t like hospitals much. Especially a place like THIS in a hospital. Where people are really bad. EXTRA bad.”
“He’s a lot better than anyone thought he would be. Especially so soon And he doesn’t look THAT awful, I swear. He’s even waking up for a little bits at a time. A person who is ‘extra bad’, wouldn't be doing that, would they?”
“I just don’t know if I can go in there just yet. I mean, I was there. Yesterday. In the van. I saw what he was like; how bad he was. And I’ve never seen Tyler like that. I’ve seen him shot a couple times during our tours in the Middle East, but those were nothing. Just flesh wounds, you know? But that? Yesterday? Those weren’t just flesh wounds. And by the time he got back home seven years ago…”
“He was already somewhat on his feet and in rehab.”
Rata nods. “He was almost back to himself. It’s going to be a long while before he gets back to himself this time.”
“Yesterday was pretty awful, huh?
He releases a small, shaky sigh. “Wasn’t so much how he looked. All the blood and what not. I mean, that was bad, don’t get me wrong. It was fucking awful. Pardon my language.”
“I hear and say worse all the time. You don’t have to filter yourself around me. You’ve met my husband, right? You can’t be easily offended AND stay married to him. It just won’t work.”
“It was terrible. A fucking nightmare. To see a friend of yours THAT messed up. But the worst part? It was what he SOUNDED like. When he was talking to you. I’ve never heard him sound like that. Ever.”
“Neither have I,” she admits. “Not seven years ago, not even the two times he tried to...well, you know. He never sounded like THAT.”
“Like he was going to die.”
“Yesterday I tried telling myself he didn’t sound that way. That he was just tired and scared and in pain and he just needed it to end. I convinced myself that he didn’t sound THAT bad. Near death. Now I realize I was just trying to make myself feel better, know what I mean?”
Rata nods.
“He was a lot closer to it than I want to admit. I thought nothing could be worse than seven years ago. I was so wrong.”
“It was what he said to you. How he said it. He was pretty sure he was never going to see you again. That’s the only thing he was really scared of; the thought of not getting to be with you anymore. You and the kids. You’re his entire world. I didn’t think I realized how much he loves you all until I heard the things that came out of his mouth. Opened my eyes; made me see him a different way. A good way, just different. He’s lucky. He’s got someone that loves him as much as he loves them. That’s something I think we all want but never seem to find.”
“Sometimes I wonder what I ever did right to deserve him,” she confesses. “And he’s here because of you guys. You and Koen. You did whatever you had to go get him here alive. So thank you. I know it wasn’t easy; what you had to see and do. I was there myself. Seven years ago. I know how hard it is.”
“I feel like such a dick. For not being able to go in there. Like a total pussy.”
“You’re not any of those things. People handle stuff like this in different ways. But you should go in there. He’s really not that bad. And he was awake and talking a bit to Koen. I don’t know if he still is, but I do know he’d like to see you. I know how much he appreciates what you did to help him. I’ll go in with you if that would help.”
“It would. A bit. But first,” he offers the gift bag. “ I have something for you. And the baby.”
“The baby won’t be here for months. You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Just a little something.”
She reaches into the bag, smiling at the stuffed tiger that she pulls out of its confines. “How did you remember the tradition? Every Rake baby gets a stuffed animal?”
“Just something that stuck with me, I guess.”
“It’s adorable. Thank you. Better not let Millie get a hold of it. That girl and her stuffed animals, I swear. You didn't have to do this. You didn’t…” her voice trails off, fingers reaching for the familiar object tied to the ribbon around the tiger’s neck. Eyes narrowed at first, then slowly widening when the realization sets in it. “Where did you find this? Where…?”
“I didn’t find it. Tyler gave it to me. Before we got to the storage place. He asked me to give it to you if something went wrong.”
“He did?” Esme unties the thin piece of fabric, sliding the ring off of it and then cradling it in her palm.
“He wanted me to make sure you got it. If he didn’t make it. Said it was important that you got it.”
“I thought it was lost,” her voice cracks with emotion. “I thought maybe he took it off beforehand and put it in his pocket and it fell out. Or that the ER staff misplaced it. I didn’t think I’d ever see it again.”
“I should have given it to you right away. Yesterday. Please don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying because of what you did or didn’t do. I thought it was gone. Forever. And I know it’s not much; it’s not expensive or fancy or anything like that. But it’s his. All the dents and scratches that he’s on it over the years. Sounds weird, but they all mean something. I really thought I’d never see it again. And I didn’t think I’d be as torn about it as I was. But it killed me inside; when I couldn’t find it. It felt like a piece of him was gone and I was just waiting for all the other pieces to disappear too. Thank you; you have no idea how much this means to me. To have this back.”
She hooks the handle of the bag around her wrist, then reaches around to the nape of her neck and removes the necklace -the custom made piece with the beach glass Millie had found- and slips the ring onto the chain.
“I’ll do it,” Rata offers, and steps behind her. Large fingers clumsy and struggling at first, but then manage to secure the clasp.
Esme lays a palm over the ring, firmly pressing it into her chest. Feeling the smooth, cool metal with its many imperfections, the familiar weight of it against her. And the relief that simple piece of jewellery brings is profound, stifling sobs with both of her hands as she turns and tightly embraces her friend.
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clean slate (10/?)
Pairing: (eventual) addcest [LPDE] & elsain [LKATh] WC this chapter: 2600 Rating: T+ TWs: (past) abuse, talking about it, ptsd flashbacks, anxiety attacks AU: modern/single parent Lusa (with his tiny son Arc) + runaway Esper (hah) Notes: shoutout to @bitgaram-mu for flinging themself out of a window after the last chapter rip
ao3 link
“I’m sorry, but it seems you should come back to meet Esper some other time,” Lusa says, holding a hand over the phone so Arc wouldn’t hear him. His adrenaline is spiked so high he feels his arteries will pop one by one.
Asker stands up from the armchair, having not budged at all until now. “Unfortunately, that is not possible. After all, I won’t be returning here, and neither will Esper. That insufferable child needs to be put back in his place.”
Lusa frowns, staring the man down with a mixture of shock and nausea brimming in his stomach. “You should go,” he says, unnaturally level, “Now.”
“Very well, looks like my unchecked tongue resulted in me overstaying my welcome. It’s not like Esper is here anymore, anyway. Now where could that brat have hidden? Surely yours has an idea?”
The phone screen crackles under the force of Lusa’s grip. It’s only one, two steps before he’s close enough to the man to wind his arm back. There’s a sickening crunch as his fist makes contact with the man’s jaw and sends him backwards with sheer power.
“I will not repeat myself,” Lusa mutters, all too ready to send another punch. “Leave.” His breathing is shallow; he sees red when he stares at the primly dressed man, now bleeding from his probably broken nose.This man is the reason why Esper ran away, why Arc is crying into the phone. Esper had call him his father, so that means…
His heart beats frantically, and the more pieces his brain puts together, the less he can think about, save for ‘this man deserves to die’.
“I won’t let you lay a hand on Es ever again,” he hisses. The reason for Esper’s fear is right there before him; Lusa isn’t about to pass up an opportunity to break more than just his nose, especially since best case scenario, it’s never presented to him again.
“Now, now, let’s not get hasty here—”
Too little, too late. Lusa is throwing another punch already, enjoying the pained noise that leaves Asker a little too much. It’s all too easy to yank that crisp collar up and drag the man out of the house.
Arc’s sniffles are still audible through the phone. Lusa needs to get to them yesterday.
He throws Asker to the ground without a shred of mercy. The blood splatter on the cobblestone path is like a trophy. Lusa shouldn’t feel accomplished seeing it there, but to hell with it now, he does.
“If you ever show your face here again… You’ll end up with more than a few punches. Trust me when I say I have no qualms about taking a pathetic life like yours.”
Asker coughs, picking himself up with obvious difficulty. Duly noted, he groans “Don’t know what you see in that stupid child anyhow. He’s about as useless as a broken TV.”
Lusa is kicking out before he can stop himself. Right in the stomach, heel driving into the soft meat there. “Not another word, you asshole!”
Asker is writhing on the ground like the worm he is and Lusa would love to keep watching him, add a few more kicks to the tally, but he’d already wasted more time than he should have.
“I’m coming, Arc, hang in there, okay?” he tells Arc, “I’ll fix everything.”
Maybe he shouldn't’ drive in a state like this, but he doesn’t care much, already peeling off and heading into the town. He’s lucky no police cars patrol that day, because he breaks no less than five traffic rules within the four minutes it takes to get to the correct shop. He even leaves the engine running while scavenging the alleys.
Arc provides half-helpful, half-choked tips that lead Lusa into the correct place.
“Dad!” Arc cries as soon as Lusa rounds the corner, out of breath.
“Oh, thank god,” Lusa sighs, dropping to his knees in front of his family, ignoring the sting of concrete. His heart aches at the sight; Esper is curled up in a corner of the dirty spot, staring down and holding Arc close to his chest like his life depended on it.
Lusa reaches out slowly, so as not to startle Esper, but he doesn’t seem to even notice him.
“Es, c’mon, it’s me,” he cooes, but still nothing. “Gimme Arc, we can’t stay here. Let’s go home.”
He tries to pull Esper’s arms away from Arc and pull them up, and that's when Esper finally reacts, snapping back to himself, though Lusa isn’t sure he’s happy about it now.
Esper jumps up, hugging Arc so he doesn’t fall. “No!” he cries, voice breaking painfully, “I won’t let you hurt Arc!”
“Es, that’s dad!” Arc tells him, but Esper is acting more like a startled rabbit than anything. He even backs up until his back hits the wall, effective trapping himself further in the corner.
“Esper…” Lusa grits his teeth, fighting back tears that threaten to fall from his overflowing eyes. “It’s me, c’mon… I won’t hurt you, I’d never… I’d never hurt you or Arc… Please, let’s go home now…”
“Home…” Esper echoes, shoulders slumping from their tense position. His eyes gain a panicked glint, brows arching up and scrunching together. “It’s not cleaned… Father will come home, he’ll see… Hurts… Stop it, Im— I’m sorry… Please, I’ll clean it—”
Against better judgement, Lusa listens to his instinct and wraps his arms around both Esper and Arc, holding the shaking man while he bawls, muttering apologies and incoherent descriptions that only further break Lusa’s heart, or what’s left of it right now.
Oh, how he regrets not breaking more than Askers nose!
“Esper, it’s fine… He’s not here anymore. He can’t hurt you, I won’t let him. C’mon now, let’s go back to our home, not his. No cleaning, we’ll order take out and watch a ninja movie, how’s about it?”
Esper sniffles. “Lusa,” he mutters, stopping his rambles as if he just notices who he is with, who is holding him.
“Yeah, it’s me. Let’s get out of here, put Arc down, I’ll hold you.”
Reluctantly, Esper puts Arc down, and the kid runs up to Lusa to hug him, hiding his face in Lusa’s thigh. “Dad, what’s going on?” he asks, clinging to his pant leg. Lusa leans down and scoops him up, perching the kid on his hip as he wraps an arm around Esper’s shoulders.
“That man who was at our house was very, very bad. He hurt Es before,” he tries explaining, watching as Esper stares at him with a pained expression. “Don’t be mad at Esper, Arc, okay? He wanted to keep you safe from that man.”
“Uh-uh… Is the bad man gone now”?
“Yeah, your dad beat him in a fight. He was gonna hurt us all, but I kicked him out!” He looks straight at Esper as he says that, trying to smile reassuringly.
“Is he really gone?” Esper asks, quiet, raspy. All the crying had taken a toll on his voice. “What if he comes back? He knows where you live—”
“Where we live, Es,” Lusa corrects him. He rubs Esper’s upper arm through his shirt. “I won’t let him hurt you again. That’s a promise. A swear.”
Esper nods numbly, leaning into the touch with only slight reluctance. Lusa leads him back to the car and seats Arcin his seat. Esper clambers into the passenger seat in silence. In fact, the whole ride back is silent, not even Arc piping up with the usual banter. The radio is still off from when Lusa turned it down to hear Arc more properly when searching for them.
It’s Asker’s grace that the Sedan is no longer sitting in their driveway when they get home. It’s nowhere to be seen, actually.
Lusa parks and gets up, but when Esper doesn’t move, he circles the car and opens the passenger door for him. “C’mon, Es,” he prompts.
Esper looks up at him, as if snapping out of deep thoughts. He nods, very stiffly, and slowly gets out. His eyes flick back and forth, obviously ready to bolt again. With how he’s acting, Lusa is surprised (though not unpleasantly) he even agreed to that the car ride.
Arc runs inside as soon as Lusa opens the door, rushing down the hall and picking up a plushie from the ground. It’s a dark cat , one that Lusa doesn’t recognize. “Hey, who’s that?” he asks, making sure Esper actually comes inside before he heads to the kitchen with Arc.
“Um, this is Miss Meow,” Arc says, dusting said Miss until she’s clean enough for his standards. “Esper got me her um… earlier.”
“Oh, did he?” Lusa motions for Esper to join them at the dining table. “You should show me all you got at the store!”
Arc wastes no time to launch into a tirade about his new backpack — which he’d been wearing this whole time and would probably need a quick wash, not just dusting — and the super cool blow pens that everyone is gonna be jealous of’. Lusa had thought it’d help take his mind off of what happened, so he didn’t even comment that he said ‘no’ to those same pens a few days prior.
Esper, though… still looks out of it, glancing out of the window every few minutes to check the driveway. Okay, Lusa is being generous, Esper is actually snapping his head around all the time, to the point where Lusa is worried he’ll tear something in his neck or something.
He wants to talk to him about what ha happened, apologize for not knowing — not recognizing the man. He wants to fic today, restart it and prevent it from ever happened. But he doesn’t possess time powers and Esper still looks lost in his own kitchen.
Plus Lusa wants to give him his all when they actually tackle this issue. For now he gives his all to his son,holding back every single comment about Esper soiling Arc too much r buying him too many things. He’s glad Arc can still be positive, at least.
Wishes Esper would too, but he knows it’s too soon.
—
They order takeout as per Lusa’s suggestion — they being Lusa, if we’re being honest — but when the delivery boy comes, Lusa can see the fatal flaw in his idea.
The doorbell ringing makes Esper almost jump out of his skin. He hides in the kitchen, pressing himself against the wall by the door, hidden from sight. Lusa’s heart aches at the sight and he rushes to answer the door.
The poor guy is so confused when Lusa just hands him thirty bucks and yells to keep the change.
“It’s okay, Es, just the food,” he says, setting the warm containers onto the counter. Esper is still pressed into the wall, dangerously close to tears.
Lusa walks up to him and pauses. “Esper?”
“Yeah?” Esper’s voice wavers and Lusa feels helpless.
“Can I touch you?”
Esper nods, choppy and slow, so Lusa takes a hold of his hand and pulls him to the living room to sit on the couch. He sits close to him, but still far enough so it doesn’t feel claustrophobic.
“Es, I want to talk about what happened before,” he says, and doesn’t hesitate to continue even when Esper curls u. “I want to apologize. If I’d known that’s your father, I— wouldn’t’ve let him in. Hell, I’d punch him sooner.”
“You punched him?” Esper asks, wide eyes staring at Lusa like he’d just grown a second head.
Lusa’s chest fills with pride and he grins at Esper, mimicking punching the air with one hand. “Fuck yeah I did! Twice, and then kicked him some. Prolly broke his nose, too. I would’ve done more, but I wanted to get to you and Arc as soon as I could.”
Esper frowns, hiding a grimace behind a hand. “What did… he do?”
“Oh, he laid there and took it like the scum he is! I told him I’d have no problem getting bloody if he ever showed up again.”
“He’ll… he’ll be back… Even angrier, probably, he’ll… he’ll hurt you and Arc and— and he’ll… drag me back— home—” Esper babbles, tugging at the longer strands of his hair. His eyes stare at nothing and he almost rips the hair out, but Lusa wraps his fingers around his hands, gently pulling them away.
“Hey, I was serious when I told him I’d have no problem getting rid of him I won’t let you get hurt anymore, I swear. You hear? I swear, he’ll never get to you again.”
Esper hiccups a sob and leans onto Lusa (read: falls onto his shoulder like a sack of potatoes), shoulders quaking. Lusa wraps an arm around him, enveloping him in a n embrace, holding him as close as humanly possible, warm and safe.
“He knows where I live,” Esper says, and though it’s muffled in the crook of his neck, Lusa has no trouble making it out. “Where you live.”
“And if he shows up again I have the police on speed dial,” Lusa coos back, stroking a hand through Espers hair, massaging the tender scalp.
“How long do you think he’s known…? He must’ve been stalking us! What if he hurts you or— or Arc!”
“I can take care of myself. And Arc is always around us or someone we know.”
Esper doesn’t have a retort to that one, but he can’t stop crying either. Lusa holds him as he wails, staining his shirt with tears. It's not like Lusa minds; it can just get thrown into the laundry later. Esper is more important than a piece of fabric.
“I’m sorry,” Esper says, still half-muffled.
“Why’re you apologizing?” Lusa asks, also still playing with Esper’s hair in hopes of calming him.
“He could’ve hurt you,” the lankier man answers quietly. “He only wanted me…”
Lusa shushes him immediately. “But he didn’t. And he won’t get you.” He stops carding through Esper’s hair in favor of brushing the tear streaks etched into his cheeks off. “You feel up for some dinner? You’ll feel better with a full belly.”
“Dad? Es? Is everything okay?” Asks, peeking into the living room, small fingers gripping onto the doorframe, only his head visible behind the corner.
Esper pulls away, wiping at his face. He motions Arc over and helps him sit in his lap, trying his best to make a normal smile.
“Sometimes, when something bad happens,” he says, sniffling, “you can’t do anything. Crying helps you feel better, so I had to cry it out. Hugs also help, and your dad was here to provide. Everything’s fine now, Arc. I’m sorry for scaring you.”
Arc nuzzles into Esper’s chest, squeezing him with all the power of his small five-year-old frame (which is not much). “I’ll hug you too, until you’re all better. Please don’t run away again.”
Esper chuckles, the sound hollow to his own ears. He chuckles, “Of course I won’t,” but his mind is running hundred miles an hour, as if to make up for the time he’d been out of it.
Maybe it’s a bad idea to stay here. Asker could come back at any time… Lusa doesn’t know what he’s capable of, how many shady connections he has. How he always gets what he wants, no matter what. It’s not fair to put Lusa and Arc in danger needlessly.
Esper grins, setting Arc down. “Now, how about that dinner? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving and the food is just sitting there getting cold.”
There’s already a plan in his mind as he plates the Chinese from its boxes. ‘Sorry, Arc,’ he thinks somberly, ��but it looks like I’ll have to let you down this once.’
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