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sheetsonfire · 2 years ago

Text

Free Will

Fandom: Chicago Med

Pairing: Will Halstead x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, romance

Word Count: 6462

Summary: Will makes a decision that throws everything the reader thought they knew into question. Where will the road take them?

A/N: This is part of @resanoona's #resa.3kfiestabingo! I'm using this fic to fill the "Hurt Feelings" square! Thank you so much @resanoona for reading, suggesting and correcting my tired ramblings!

I'm so sorry it took me literally two weeks to get this fic done, but hopefully, the size makes up for it! Happy reading!

Sometimes it’s easy to convince yourself of something until reality so starkly and irrefutably proves otherwise. So the night you see Will kissing Nina Shore from pathology, in the middle of Molly’s, it hurts possibly more than you thought it could.

There had never been an official relationship between you and Will, but the both of you had become closer of late - a shared routine, the hangouts on off-days, the conversations you would share in quiet moments on shift, and the post-work drinks at various bars around the city had started to feel a lot like dating.

A year’s worth of getting to know each other beyond colleagues and now you weren't sure what you had to show for it.

You weren’t naive to the fact that a close friendship could be just that and nothing more. In some ways, you were okay with its platonic nature, yet Will always looked at you with such intensity and interest that you could have sworn it to be something else.

In fact, that night at Molly’s Bar was going to be the night. After multiple consultations with Maggie, April and even Connor who had chipped in with his encouragement, you felt ready to ask Will whether there was actually a chance of more.

Sometimes you considered asking Jay, Will’s brother, for his input on the situation but you were always afraid of the answer. There was always the possibility that Jay could tell Will and you hadn’t been ready for that complication either.

So, you were in the bar, wandering off from the large gathering of Med, Fire and PD friends, who had pushed tables together. They were well into their merriment of earned rest and you had decided it was time to visit Herrmann at the bar - liquid courage was definitely needed for what was coming next.

You smile brightly at the older man who gives you a wink, grinning at the sight of your familiar and friendly face. You were happy to wait patiently for him to be free to serve you, he had always been a source of wisdom and encouragement for you - one of the kindest people you knew.

Eventually, Chris makes it to you, a bar towel slung over his shoulder, “What’s up, Y/N, what can I get ya?” He waits for an answer, tilting his head curiously as you smile sheepishly. You're tapping your fingers on the counter as you measure your words.

“Hey Chris, can I get whatever will get me buzzed the fastest?”

Chris laughs, nodding, “Sure, Y/N, can I ask why?”

You knew that question was coming, and you cleared your throat.

Feeling the heat creeping into your cheeks, casting a brief look back at the table where everybody was sitting, laughing and engrossed in different conversations. You could see Nina shimmying her way around Connor to sit where you had sat next to Will.

Watching the scene with a jolt of irritation, you see her pressing up close to him. The conversation already seems intimate, and you can’t look away. Only brought back by Herrmann’s gentle call of your name.

“Sorry, Herrmann…Um, I was going to, uh, ask Will something important, I need something to quieten the nerves before I chicken out.” The words come out, but you can already feel your mind changing direction, the urge to abort the plan was growing fast.

Herrmann nods, holding his hands up in understanding, “Say no more. Good luck to you, kiddo.” Grinning as he pours you a few shots, he always was a champion for the romantic.

You hold out the shots to Chris in a ‘cheers’ gesture before knocking them back one after the other, feeling the liquid burn as it makes its way down your throat, a heat beginning to thrum in your veins. This was exactly what you needed, for better or for worse.

With the shots down and the confidence blooming in your chest, you say your farewell to Chris and start to shimmy through the crowd back to your table. You’re just passing where Matt Casey and Kelly Severide are sitting when your eyes lock onto an unwanted sight ahead of you.

Nina’s arm is looped snugly around Will’s waist, and he is the same in kind. You watch as he leans down to listen to something she’s saying, concentrating on her words over the hubbub of the bar, it makes him turn to smile at her.

From your position, you can even see the mischievous twinkle in Will’s eyes, and like a slow-mo car crash you feel your stomach drop as Nina leans up and Will leans into a kiss.

You’re frozen. Your trance was only broken by Casey’s concerned call of your name.

You blink, willing yourself away from the sight of your best friend making out with someone else. Turning to see Matt and Kelly watching you carefully like you were going to disintegrate at any moment.

“You alright, Y/N?” Kelly asks, standing from his chair to move closer to you.

There’s a ringing in your ears, and the full rush of embarrassment threatens to consume you, even if nobody else knew what you were thinking or how you felt. You felt transparent.

Eventually, you bring yourself to answer the firefighters, pushing a smile onto your face. “Yeah, I’m good, guys. Sorry, I just remembered I’m late for something else. Tell the others I’m sorry I had to go?” You ask hopefully, not at all in the mood to show your face again at your corner of the large gathering.

They nod, wishing you a good evening, and telling you to be safe. To which you nod back, reassuring them that you would be fine and that you would see them soon.

Ducking your head as you turn around toward the door out of Molly’s, offering Herrmann a half-hearted smile as he watches you leave, feeling sad that he would know your plan had gone awry.

Then, you were gone.

Unbeknownst to you, Will had not been pleased when he discovered your absence through Casey and Severide. It wasn't annoyance, but rather concern.

He got a sinking feeling when he found out you’d gone home, in the back of his mind he started to worry that you’d seen the kiss between him and Nina. On paper, he had no reason to fear that possibility, and yet it nagged at him.

You'd never expressed an interest in Will, and he had been desperate to not be too forward with you, he never wanted to give you the impression that you were a rebound or a distraction after Natalie.

If pressed, he would admit that his thoughts on being with Nina weren’t the soundest or most logical, yet he didn’t know what else to do. With Nina there was something to the dynamic that never got too deep, it never scared Will as it did when he thought about having something with you.

He knows it’s not fair to you or Nina to think that way, yet here he was. There was too much to lose by asking to date you, your friendship was cherished by him and it had to be protected.

Will messages later that night, asking if everything was okay. He wasn’t sure if you would answer at all, but the “Yeah, all good. Just forget I had something I needed to do. See you Monday!” went some way to quiet his worry.

Even if the seeds of doubt continued to grow.

[5 Months Later]

It had been an extra layer of sucky when you discovered Will was not only dating Nina but also moving in with her. Ever since that night at Molly’s, you had done your resolute best to act normal, to not freeze Will out or feel resentful.

He had asked a few times if something was wrong or if something had happened, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him the truth - what point would there be to hearing him tell you he wasn’t interested in you like that? It was easier to play it as cool as you could, being happy for Will like a good friend should.

Being invited to the housewarming was a real test of your resolve, however.

It was gone 7am at Med, the 7:30 shift was due to start rolling in at any moment, and you were wrapping up your patient notes from the night before.

Maggie was hovering beside you, she had come to investigate whether you were going to the Halstead-Shore housewarming, to which you’d pulled a face and she understood.

“Did you ever ask him if it was something more?” Maggie asks cautiously, trying to help you not feel so utterly rejected by someone who apparently didn’t even know they were rejecting you.

“No…I didn’t…but, oh Maggie, I’m still in shock at how I’ve got this so wrong.”

“Honey, you’re not an idiot, there must have been something there, alright? That man is like a brother to me, and I more than know his capability to charm. I've been trying to steer him right for years, but his dating game and communication skills aren’t always to the standard of his doctoring finesse.” Maggie smiles sympathetically, wrapping an arm around you with a small squeeze.

The charge nurse had offered to intervene a few times, but you didn't think it was fair to drop that on Will just because you didn't want someone else to have him.

You sigh, resting your head on her shoulder. Watching discreetly from behind the pillar at the nurses' station, Will passes Nina her coffee and kisses her cheek, no doubt promising to share lunch with her later.

You resist the juvenile urge to make a gagging sound and gesture with your fingers in your mouth.

Then, Will turns to move in the direction of the nurses’ station to get to the on-call room. You hastily disperse from Maggie’s comforting embrace and busy yourself with a computer, pulling up your last patient’s records, scrutinising them as if your life depended on it.

Breath held, eyes downcast, you dare not look as you feel Will’s approach, his fiery copper hair visible from the corner of your eye.

You type some sporadic notes at the bottom of your patient’s file, making a mental note to yourself that under no circumstances would you save the incoherent spiel once you were done avoiding the redhead.

Yet, there’s no such passing of the moment, Will makes a direct approach to you, a smile on his face as he watches you “concentrate.” His palm is warm on your back as he greets you, a cheerful tone to salt your wounds, “Good mornin’, Y/N.”

There’s a battle within to avoid sighing too loudly, you search for composure as you lift your head with a painted smile. “Morning, Will.”

“You’re here early?” Will queries, apparently convinced by your performance.

“Late, actually. I got called in to cover a shift, now my cover is a no-show, so now I’m taking my one.” Will frowns with a nod, knowing what was coming next.

He hadn’t been totally oblivious to the change in your mood lately, he just wished you’d get mad or say something, the silence was worse.

The more time passed, the more the sense of a moment missed weighed on him. He wished he could have put aside his fear and come right out and said “I love you!” all those months ago, but then after that night at Molly’s things had taken an altogether different turn.

With Dr Shore it was different, she had been a friend and a colleague too, but if Will was being honest, he knew it didn't ground him or scare him like his relationship with you did.

Between him and Nina, they understood the casual and mutually beneficial nature of being together, of sharing an apartment, and they had both agreed that they would take it as easy as possible.

You grimace, looking for absolution. “I’m really sorry, Will, I won’t be able to make it for your housewarming, I’m gonna need some shut-eye once this day is over.”

It’s the best excuse to not go to your nice new place and watch you be domestic and loved up with someone who isn’t me. You think to yourself, smiling apologetically.

“It’s alright, Y/N, it can’t be helped, we’ll miss you though.” He smiles too, a sadness settles in his eyes and you do feel a slight pang of guilt. It was for the best though, you decided.

He could spend the evening with his girlfriend and enjoy himself, and you could be spared from that. Your eyes struggle to steel themselves into an expression of unbothered and normal, Will catches a flash of it.

He squeezes your shoulder, trying to ignore the mantra of his own internal voice, the one that told him he had a mistake with you and, consequently, a mistake with Nina.

He couldn’t afford to think that now, not even if he wanted to.

“I better, you know…” He gestures to the on-call room, needing to put his stuff away and change into scrubs.

“Of course, yeah, you go ahead. See you in a bit.” You shoo him away, watching with a gnawing sensation in your gut. You couldn’t avoid this forever, you would have to face it head-on at some point.

However, as cruel fate would have it, as it often does, your replacement chose that moment to announce themselves. Dr Kumari had resolved their engine troubles with the help of a passerby, so here they were to relieve you of your double shift.

You had tried to somehow find a way to prevent Will from finding out, but that was impossible as soon as Dr Kumari had made themselves known and he had seen you with your coat and bag.

“Oh sweet, that’s great. Get some rest and we’ll see you later?” Will asks, hopefulness renewed. Maggie glances at you from across the nurses’ station, that sympathetic look was back as she offered an encouraging thumbs up.

You wanted so badly to find another way of squirming out of the obligation, but you weren’t looking to be an utter asshole to Will, he clearly valued your presence at this housewarming and, after all, you were still friends.

“Yeah, for sure! See you later, 7pm right?” You check, ignoring the cold thrum of anxiety that had started to tingle in your veins.

“Yep, 7pm, let me know if you get stuck finding us, our street is a little weird.” Will smiled, Cinderella could go to the ball and Will was elated to hear it.

You nod in acknowledgement of what he was saying, saying one more goodbye before turning towards the exit, letting yourself walk a considerable way out of Will’s eye line before exhaling defeatedly.

Now you’d need to buy some wine or a plant.

Despite your reluctance to even go to the housewarming, you had meandered into an ‘oddities and thrift’ store on your way home and found some gifts for Will and Nina. The store’s name ‘The Past and The Curious: Chicago Thrift’ had totally tickled you.

After being in danger of spending a whole shift’s worth of time in the three-storey building full of trinkets and history, you had stumbled across a few items that you thought would be cool to give them.

One was an old 50s dartboard that had both a traditional format on one side and a baseball format on the other; you knew that Will enjoyed a game of darts, and you were pretty sure you’d seen Nina outdoing a fair few colleagues at the bar on several occasions.

As an extra, you had found a vintage Cubs pennant you thought would make for good decor. Satisfied with your treasures you settle up with the elderly woman who sat at a counter that looked like something out of the Wild West.

Letting yourself into your apartment, you’re grateful to take off your layers of cold-weather clothing, placing your items on the kitchen table where you could arrange them in a gift bag later. For now, you are ready to eat, nap and then take a shower.

However, once you’d had some soup and put on your comfy clothes, the initial excitement over your purchases started to fade. As you roll over in bed, eyeing the red numbers displaying 11am, you feel the knots in your stomach ache in the background.

Exhaling frustratedly you shift again under the covers, desperate to find slumber in the plumpness of your pillows.

It’s Jay that answers the door at Will’s new apartment, apparently, he had taken on the role of security but also cloakroom clerk. Offering to hang up your jacket, take your gift bag and find you a drink.

“How’s it going, Y/N?” Jay asks casually.

With a swallow of the urge to spill your lovesickness to him, you smile, “All good, thanks, Jay. How about you?”

Jay lets out a small laugh, one that seems full of knowledge and scepticism with regard to your answer. “I’m good, Y/N, business as usual for me.” Jay doesn’t say anything else, but he’s looking at you differently, speaking without saying a damn thing.

You sometimes hated that Halstead smugness, it was clearly a genetic trait both boys shared. You were now sure he knew something about this whole debacle, but you didn’t know what.

You follow Jay through the small hallway into the front room where familiar faces are already gathered in different pockets of conversation. You spot Maggie and Sharon on the couches, with Will and Nina hovering nearby, and you spot Connor in the process of joining their group.

Jay sidles up to you with an extra beer in hand, seemingly getting it from thin air as he nods in Will’s direction.

The detective takes a sip of his own drink, again with that glint in his eye that makes you want to push him into the obnoxiously large cactus in the corner of the room. “Are you gonna say hey, or are we keeping a safe distance for the evening?”

You glance at Jay, a glare flashes across your features, settling into a frown and a half smile. You could tell Jay, for all his teasing, was actually looking out for you. He must definitely know how you feel about his brother.

A sigh escapes you, taking a swig of your beer. “Who told you, and why?” You ask, slightly disappointed that Maggie might have spilt to Jay of all people.

Jay chuckles softly, patting your shoulder. “Y/N, I got eyes. I see how you look at my pain in the ass, romantically challenged, brother.”

You’re about to say something when Jay continues, his face a little more sympathetic, maybe even sad, as he speaks. “And I saw you that night when they started canoodling, you looked pretty damn crushed. I had had my suspicions before then, but that night I knew. I wanted so badly to smack that idiot upside the head, but I didn’t know how you wanted to play it out. So I left it, and I want to apologise for not saying anything, but I figured you’d do what you wanted to do.” Jay shrugs, a grimace as he waits for your reaction, taking another swig to distract from the brief silence between you.

“Jay…” You start, your heart racing, and you half expect yourself to start crying but your brain protects you in front of all the people that could spot you break down. Surprising yourself as you remain composed.

“First and foremost, I’m not upset with you, why would I be? You didn’t know what I was thinking, and I had no idea you even knew as much as you do… I figured I’d let it be, who am I to stop him from doing what he wants? He seems happy, and we were long friends before we could be anything else, I don’t want to lose that.”

He nods, wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a comforting squeeze.

Jay is ready to continue, “Listen, I know he’s off with Nina, but you should know-” But Will’s voice bursts your private bubble and you almost jump out of your skin.

“Jay, you can’t use her as a shield from socialising with everyone.” Will approaches with a big smile, clearly glad to see you’d not abandoned ship at the last moment.

“Sorry, brother, just didn’t want you to bore her to death with the speech about where you got that cactus and the guy you got it from.” Jay grins, and Will rolls his eyes, steering you away from his brother towards Nina, Sharon and April.

You half-heartedly wave ‘bye’ to Jay, feeling the uptick in your nerves as Will’s hand stays on your back. “Glad you made it, Y/N, thanks for coming.” Your neck tingles with the softness in Will’s tone.

“Of course, Will, you got it.” You smile, internally cringing at your chipper tone. Your stomach flip flops at the slight brush of Will’s thumb on your back as he lets go, arriving at a stop next to Nina as you greet everyone.

The evening continues without incident, you find yourself enjoying it more than you thought you would. Nina turns out to be a good cook, having made a good proportion of the nibbles and snacks on offer from scratch. You even manage to have a few conversations with her, without feeling like you were suffocating under the secret you kept to your chest.

Will had kept a subtle eye on you throughout too, you had caught him a few times looking in your direction but for the most part, you weren’t tuned in to the way he worried about whether you were having a good time or not.

He also hadn’t missed the way you and Jay were talking earlier, he was itching to know what you were discussing but he didn’t want to intrude - the thought crossed his mind to pry it from Jay at a later date, which wouldn’t be easy.

Will was happy to have his friends around, and he really did think Nina was a great person, yet he couldn’t shake the gnawing wrongness in his stomach - the best way he could describe the sensation was “cold feet”. He sighs, refilling the ice box in the kitchen as he idly listens to the hubbub and music in the lounge, tuning in to the call of his brother requesting he hurries up in the kitchen

You’re sitting on a dining chair near the couch, next to Maggie as she squeezes you. You nod to reassure her that you were doing good, smiling as she keeps a comforting hold on your arm.

Nina and Jay stand at the front of the gathering, a natural aisle down the middle had formed to allow Will back into the room and to the ‘centre stage’.

Will sets down the ice bucket back on the refreshments table and faces his friends who are still chattering to each other, waiting for the speech to be made, a blush on his cheeks as Nina clanks her glass.

Will catches your eye for just a split second, you take a swig of your second drink of the night, a smile and a small silent cheers gesture to him before you look away and focus on something else.

Nina smiles brightly at the hush as she begins to speak, “Hey everybody. Um, thank you so much for coming. Celebrating with the people who know me and Will best, it means a lot…”

That was strike one for you, your stomach tensed in readiness for what else Nina was going to say.

“...But there is something that most of you may not know about Will. He’s still got a lot of Med School debt, but he paid part of his way through it by singing at Irish weddings.”

There’s a gasp in the crowd, a titter of excitement as Jay picks up Will’s guitar. You and Maggie look at each other, and Maggie is grinning, eyebrows raised in excitement. Neither of you knew you were getting food and a show tonight.

“What?” You hear Will exclaim, and you snorted as you took another swig of your drink. This was going to be good.

Ah, that was right. He’d left his guitar out earlier, forgetting to put it back in the case and stow it away.

He was going to kill Jay.

Will half-heartedly protests, but Jay thrusts the instrument at his brother with that same shit-eating grin you’d seen many a time before, along with a quip about needing to pay rent.

Sharon even pipes up, and it’s sweet to see Will almost immediately agree. Like a mother asking her son to play, he wasn’t going to be the one to decline now. Only further encouraged by Nina and the cheer of the group in front of him, including you, he takes the guitar in his hands.

The hush from before settles around the room, listening intently as Will begins to sing and play the strings beneath his fingers.

“Baby

It's been a long day, baby

Things ain't been going my way

You know I need you here

To ease my mind

All the time”

At first, you’re stifling your giggles of excitement, because Will had a great voice that you’d never heard before. Not only that, but you knew Will would totally smack Jay upside the head for making him play in front of everyone, and it tickled you to no end.

“And baby

The way you move me, it's crazy

It's like you see right through me

And make it easier

You please me, you don't even have to try”

However, with that excitement came the deepest urge to cry. An urge that you smothered by drinking your beer and squeezing the napkin you had in your other hand in a vice grip. Maggie’s grip on you had tightened too.

Jay was watching his brother, and that glint of pride in his eyes wasn’t hard to miss, despite Jay’s hesitation on the whole moving-in situation, he didn’t want to butt in on Will’s life, Will seemed to be happy.

You watched the man you admired and loved play with ease, his voice was somehow soothing and shattering as you watched Nina look at him the way you do when he isn’t paying attention.

A tidal wave of emotions that you’d managed to suppress since that night at Molly’s came crashing over you with each word of the song, feeling your heart stutter wildly as Will’s eyes focus briefly on yours.

You can’t look away, not even if you wanted to, the tears that you had so doggedly fought against now spilt silently over and down your cheeks. Quickly wiping them away lest somebody, that wasn’t Maggie or Will, notice.

“Oh, because

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing)

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing, baby)

You are the best thing

(You're the best thing, ooh)

Ever happened to me”

Will’s eyes glisten too, his heart thundering in his eyes as he plays on autopilot for the rest of the song. In the surreal moment of everyone else’s joy, the doting look on Nina’s face, he is crushed to see the look of grief on yours.

Listening to his head and his heart, louder and clearer than he had in all those times of fear and doubt, Will knows now without question he’s made a mistake. A mistake that will certainly hurt Nina going forward, but there’s also a mistake that’s already hurt you.

The latter is something that Will can’t live with.

It feels like an eternity as you try to calmly get up from your seat next to Maggie, hushed murmurs between the both of you as you quickly and quietly tell her that you need to get going. She can see the anguish on your face enough to not try and convince you to stay, offering a sad smile and an encouraging squeeze as she promises to text later.

You dare not glance back at Will, only offering a polite smile and nod to Jay as you squeeze past him between the clusters of people who had resumed their chattering and merriment. He doesn’t push now, the teasing at the start of this evening now makes him feel somewhat dickish as he sees the pain in your face.

Unbeknownst to you, Will can’t tear his eyes away from watching you leave, the prickly heat of worry and dread spreads across his skin. The desire to go after you was clear on his features, lost in his own moment of realisation, too caught up in the tumbling down of his own walls to realise Nina was witness to it as well.

She had never been clueless about your connection to her boyfriend, but to your credit, you had never overstepped or even tried to enforce your place in his life. However, now, as she watches the silent revelation play out in front of her, it’s hard to ignore the sourness in her throat. Her new chapter of life had been closed as quickly as it had started.

After the last of the guests say their goodbyes, a heavy silence begins to fill the air of the apartment, replacing the lights and the laughter with a stillness that sits like dark, weighted, rain clouds that threaten a downpour.

Will puts almost entirely too much focus on clearing away scraps of food, crumpled napkins and used plastic champagne flutes for there not to be something so obviously wrong.

Nina glances at him from time to time, the energy coursing through her body going into putting the furniture back with haste. She can feel her hurt and anger building, but there’s also a resignation, she just wishes Will had opened his mouth sooner.

Eventually, she can’t take it, straightening up the dining table, she can’t help thinking about the fact that it’s a huge mercy that their landlord had included a 7-day grace period in their rental agreement.

“Are you gonna say something? Or do I have to do that for you too, even at the very end?” Her first shot is fired into the thick air, which makes Will’s shoulders tense. A slow lift of his head from the fascinating sight of the garbage bag in his hands to the woman he was about to let down.

“Nina, I-” The look on Will’s face already has her jaw clenching, he was about to try and soften the situation somehow, something she didn’t want or need. She only needed the truth.

“Will, I suggest you think very clearly about what comes out of your mouth next. Just be clear and be honest with me.”

Will pressed his lips together, recalculating his sentence now that he could see this was really happening, it was now or never to face up to the reality of his feelings.

“Nina? I haven’t been fair to you. You deserve someone as committed to you as you are to him, and I haven’t been that person.”

Nina inhales a sharp breath, hearing it aloud stings, but at least it’s the truth. “It’s always been Y/N, hasn’t it?”

Will blinks, swallowing, staring his transgressions in the face.

“You messed me around. You acted as if I could be the only person you’d want this future with, but all along you knew the truth. You knew deep down that Y/N was who you really wanted, and you let us go through all of this - in front of our friends too.” Nina’s rage is the quiet kind, the kind that doesn’t need screaming or erratic behaviour to convey the gravity of its source.

“I didn’t know she had feelings for me, not for sure, not until tonight… I-... I’m sorry, Nina. I have feelings for her, and I shouldn’t have ignored them. I should have been honest from the start, from that kiss at Molly’s. I shouldn’t have let myself pretend.”

“Oh well, I’m so glad you’ve seen the light tonight, no more pretending, huh? Wow.”

Will’s eyes shuttered closed for a second, there was no getting around the mess he’d made for Nina and for you.

“Nina, I care about what happens to you, I-”

Nina held her hand up, shaking her head. She didn’t need to hear any more about how much Will loved you or how sorry he was that he still wasn’t going to pick her. “Please just go, Will. Get what you need tonight, we can arrange our stuff at some point. I just need you to go, please. Now.”

Will nods, picking up his phone from the coffee table as he silently heads to the bedroom to pack some things. He would be reacquainting himself with Jay’s couch tonight.

You were more than thankful that the following day was a day off for you. You could very well put your personal feelings aside for the sake of the job, but it was a relief to be allowed to cry in your apartment under a duvet and mindlessly watch episode after episode of Mythbusters.

Even though your eyes were staring at the laptop screen, your mind couldn’t be further from focusing on what was in front of you. You couldn’t stop replaying over and over the way Will had really seen you last night, he knew the truth now and you would have to live with that reality - whatever that might mean for your friendship.

So much was your melancholic reverie that the texts you’d received from not only Maggie but Jay and Will had all gone unnoticed and unread. Each passing hour was just as lovesick as the one before it until you felt like you were climbing the walls.

At around 2pm you decide to take a shower, put on some real clothes, open the curtains and take yourself out for a walk to get some food and some sunshine on your skin.

You’re just checking the lock on your front door when noise from further down the corridor grabs your attention, you figured that when you turned it would be one of your neighbours going back to their apartment. However, when you register the figure in front of you, you almost wish you could unlock the door and hustle back inside without being spotted.

Will was approaching you, a look of concern on his face that you’d rarely ever seen unless there was a serious emergency in the ED. As he gets closer his exhaustion is apparent, with hair that was unkempt and redness in his eyes that spoke of little to no sleep.

You were confused, to say the least, last night should have been a great night for him and he should have gone to bed with Nina to forget all about you.

As you stand frozen on the spot, pondering what could have possibly happened to have Will so stressed out, you almost jump when Will comes to a stop in front of you. He shifts from one foot to the other, hands deep in his jean pockets to stop them from fidgeting or rubbing nervously at his neck.

“Hi.” He murmurs, his voice gruff from a dry throat.

“Hi.” You utter, voice tight. It now occurs to you that your face probably doesn’t look too much better, even the shower wouldn’t have magically erased the bags from tossing and turning, and the redness from crying.

“What are you doing here?” You ask curiously, trying not to sound too blunt or rude.

“Can we talk?” He asks carefully, waiting for you to be upset with him as Nina had been.

You swallow, stomach flip-flopping with the gurgles of hunger to accompany it.

“Sure…I, uh, I was going to take a walk and get lunch. Wanna come?”

Will nods, taking a breath. “Sounds good.”

It’s not even 5 minutes into your walk until the silence between you almost becomes unbearable. The idea of breaking that silence seems to occur to you both at the same time.

“Will, I-”

“I broke up with Nina.”

You stare at each other as the words sit in your brain, coming to a halt tucked to the side of the sidewalk.

“You broke up with Nina? The Nina who you’re sharing a new home with?” You don’t mean for the sentence to be so blunt, but you’re stunned at this turn of events.

“Yeah, that’s the one.” Will gives a pained and sheepish smile.

You’re frozen for a moment, trying to figure out if it was because of you without seeming too self-absorbed. Will seems to pick up on your thoughts, however, pacing slightly in front of you and as the words tumble past his lips, hands gesturing wildly as he tries to get his feelings across.

“And it is because I care about you, Y/N. I haven’t acted right at all, and I don’t expect you to suddenly feel ready for anything. Hell, I don’t even expect you to want to be friends anymore, but I couldn’t lie to myself, and I couldn’t pretend like losing you wouldn’t be the biggest regret of my life. I shouldn’t have hurt you or Nina the way that I did, and I’m truly, deeply, sorry… I love you, Y/N.”

It’s surreal to think that this is happening in the middle of the street, whilst the world bustles around you. You look into the wild, soft, brown eyes of Will Halstead and you’re met with the truth now. You can see it there, the same sense of fear, grief and hope that had burned so strongly last night as he played the guitar and watched you cry.

You expected to fling yourself into his arms and kiss him senseless, but in reality, you nestle in close to wrap your arms tightly around him, your head tucked into his chest as you sniffle.

The warmth of his hand cradling the back of you makes you feel safe, his lips gentle as they press to the top of your head. A strong hold on your waist as you sniff rather pitifully, full of relief and shock, speaking quietly as though any louder would shatter some sort of illusion, “Please, please don’t change your mind.”

Will’s laughter rumbles through his chest, planting more kisses on your face as you look at him, laughter pulled from you too as you see your own joy mirrored on him.

“That was a one-time thing, sweetheart. I won’t be changing anything for as long as you want me to be here.”

Fin.

tags: @resanoona - @elius-learns-to-write - @dumb-fawkin-bitch

#resa.3kfiestabingo #will halstead x reader #will halstead #chicago med #one chicago

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kitty-is-writing · 30 days ago

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writemas day 11

thanks to @agirlandherquill for this game! you can find the prompts for day 11 here

today I picked:

The cacophony of screams bled into everyone's ears. It was the song of pain, the whisper of vengeance, and everyone knew there was more to come. Worse to come, but it was coming.

The restlessness of hatred

She stared helplessly from the woods, watching another home burn. This one, at least, had not been her fault, but that was no comfort. The depths of their hatred were infinite, it seemed, and would never allow them peace.

Luke held her from behind, the only thing keeping her upright, keeping her grounded in reality. The few others who had managed to flee before the flames consumed them stood nearby, clutching at soot-stained belongings they had snatched in the scant moments they had.

Bennett, with a satchel of his most precious books. Paul, carrying his collection of maps. Alec and Rachel, who had only managed to rescue little Astrid and her ragged stuffed toy. Mark and his wife, Hayley, clutching each other like lifelines. William held only a pair of potted plants, singed around the outer leaves. Enyeto, cursing that he could only carry one sack of his gold and jewels. A handful of others Theresa couldn't name.

The rest were trapped, either burning or bleeding in what remained of their ramshackle homes.

From the blazing village, the cacophony of screams bled into everyone's ears. It was the song of pain, the whisper of vengeance, and everyone knew there was more to come. Worse to come, but it was coming. The Temple of the Holy Stars would never stop chasing them.

“We have to move, before they start searching for survivors.” Bennett's voice was low, rough, thick with tears. His sister had been caught as they fled, impaled by one of the Celestial soldiers’ swords.

Slowly, the group turned to leave, the heat of the village at their backs. Theresa felt it long after the light of the fire had disappeared behind the trees, pursuing them as she knew the temple would, eventually. They would not rest until all magic had been wiped from the land, along with any found using it.

“Why do they hate us so much? I know I have done awful things, but some here have done nothing but offer help to those in need. What do the Stars have against them?” she whispered the question to herself, mainly, but Luke heard and answered.

“They don't hate magic. They hate that filthy commoners and unbelievers can use it too.” He stared ahead, at someone's back, practically spitting with rage. “Haven't you wondered about those ‘sacred portals’ they use? The ‘holy shields’ that let their soldiers walk through fire? It's all magic, Resa. Nothing that you or I couldn't do with the right practice and training.”

“Luke is quite right. The cardinals of the temple are quite accomplished mages themselves, but they claim it as holy power and gifts from the heavens.” Paul had overheard them, clearly. “According to their teachings, magic is the province of the gods, who present themselves to us as the stars, and not to be used by any other than their most devout followers.”

Theresa stared in disbelief. “That's stupid! Magic is magic, not some gift from a god. Anyone can use it if they try hard enough to learn.”

Paul nodded. “We know that, and they know that. They don't want the rest of the world to know that. How are they going to stay in power if everyone can perform the same miracles their priests can?”

“It means they get to hold people's lives in their hands. They decide who is worthy of healing, and who deserves to remain sick and dying. They decide what farms have given enough donations, and get blessings on their crops. They decide how people should live, who gets to be comfortable and who struggles for every meal. Keeping magic for themselves gives them control over everything, and they won't give that up until someone forces them to.”

She had never heard Luke's voice so full of dark hate before. It frightened her a little, this side of him, and she squeezed his hand tighter to distract him from those thoughts. Her distraction worked, clearing the glint of rage from his eyes. She smiled, leant in for a kiss. His lips tasted of smoke and ash, but beneath there was that hint of cinnamon and mint she loved.

“We'll get through this, my love. One day at a time.”

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they walked. “One day, Resa, you and I will be happy together. We'll live in a little thatched cottage, surrounded by foxgloves and roses, and the only thing we'll have to worry about will be what to name our children.”

“I look forward to that day.” She held him close, hoping against hope that his words would someday be a reality.

writer mutuals tag list!

@rhiannonhgarrard @17panicattacksinatrenchcoat @charlesjosephwrites @aether-wasteland-s @leahnardo-da-veggie

@mysticstarlightduck @oh-no-another-idea @revenantlore @eli-t-spoon @calliecwrites

@ryns-ramblings @kaylinalexanderbooks @bloodmoonloveletter @aquixoticwrites @theeccentricraven

@burntblanc @satohqbanana

#writemas #my work #writeblr #fantasy #writing #writer tag games #writing prompts #short story #kitty's short stories #drenius

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runwayrunway · 1 year ago

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No. 28 - A Further Explanation of the Star Alliance Test

This is a main-series post, despite not being a review of a specific airline. I just think it's something that belongs in the series, that should be read. Don't worry. Today's airline is going to come later. This is a necessary preamble to get out of the way first, and it's also me making things right with an airline I've covered already.

Stick around and I promise it'll make sense. I had to rewrite this entire post from scratch, so if I could have changed this fact I would have, but fundamentally before I talk about today's true subject I need to talk about the Star Alliance Test (SAT for the remainder of this post).

So let's begin with a question. You don't have to get this right. Just take a brief look at these pictures, don't try to examine them closely or anything, just a look-over, and tell me which one of these planes - we'll call them 1, 2, and 3, left from right - flies for an airline we’ve touched on briefly before, Avianca.

Got your answer locked in? Hit the readmore and let me tell you why I asked you this!

That's right! The answer was No. 1. You can tell because it says Avianca on it, if you look closer. But...why? Why would we want to be put in a situation where 'which of these three airlines with completely different liveries, identities, and brands does this plane fly for' is a question that could feasibly come up?

I don't know. I didn't make that choice and I was probably on some other wall during that meeting. Oh, and to the best of my knowledge I also hadn't been born yet. But it's a thing airline alliances do. And Star Alliance is the subject of the Star Alliance Test - one of my metrics for determining if an airline deserves a grade of F.

The Star Alliance test has been used precisely once - in my SAS post, regarding the 1998-2019 livery (henceforth referred to as red engine SAS or RESAS).

This monstrosity, for those blessed enough to not remember.

Here are the rules of the test.

The Star Alliance Test has exactly one question. Would I prefer that all this airline’s planes were forcibly repainted into Star Alliance liveries instead of allowed to remain in their current state?

If the answer is 'yes', the airline automatically gets a grade of F.

Why Star Alliance? After all, it could be better but I don't think it's that bad. Well, I choose it because the Star Alliance test isn't really about being aesthetically pleasing - at least, not exclusively. Let me explain.

Star Alliance is the largest airline alliance in the world. Flightradar24 estimates there are 106 planes flying in a Star Alliance livery. It has 26 member airlines, shown above. Note the variance in color scheme, in logo, in origin. 26 is so many airlines. These carriers span every continent except Antarctica and basically only share three features: being international, being full-service, and being members of Star Alliance. I think it's safe to say that in any other context, nobody would ever associate THAI and Avianca, or Shenzhen Airlines and TAP Air Portugal, or Aegean Airlines and EVA Air.

Each of these airlines has a livery of their own, except for Copa. I've covered Lufthansa and SAS already. Croatia Airlines and Air New Zealand are on my request list. Another several are on my own private 'short' list. (It is 50 airlines long. You don't want to know how long my longlist is.) 26 airlines comes out to at minimum 26 reviews, but actually more because you saw me squeeze four out of SAS. I will say up front, Star Alliance runs the gamut of liveries. There are a couple I like, a couple I think are very bad, and most I think are middling. But each of them, except Copa, is its own. Some of their designs are minimal, disappointing, ugly, but they are all designs made in an attempt to reflect the airline's identity and distinguish it from the rest of the tarmac, even if they create something ugly or boring or cowardly or all three.

A livery can be very, very bad indeed. But in my own mind an F, an outright failure, is the inverse of an A+ in a sort of cosmically symmetric ontology, and these are not the inverse of an A+ livery. They do not embody a transcendent bad to balance the scales against transcendent good. To reach this point you must be not only ugly but a gnawing void eating away at your own self. A livery worthy of the grade F do not fail to execute a good concept, or even fail to execute a bad concept. They have no concept and they fail to justify their existence.

One of the worst liveries I've covered vs one of the best.

The SAT is a litmus test for this astronomical, pernicious state of utter failure. It takes more to fail the SAT than to just be uglier than the default Star Alliance livery. Plenty of liveries are uglier than Star Alliance's and they pass by light-years. To fail the SAT requires more than bad design, blandness, or anything else of that nature. It is monumentally difficult to fail the SAT. It’s like stalling an Airbus. You can do it. We know this. People have managed to do it, when the perfect storm arises and the world enters that uncanny state where luck and circumstance conspire to make the absurd a reality. But it’s really not something you can do, broadly speaking. Just pulling the nose up too far or forgetting to keep track of your airspeed isn’t going to do the trick. Icing on the wings won’t either. Even forgetting to extend your flaps on takeoff probably won’t be enough. It’s rare enough that it straddles the border of being an urban legend. It seems so easy to do thoughtlessly but it’s only happened a couple of times. Even doing it intentionally is harder than just designing a good livery. I'm not even sure it's possible to do it intentionally.

To fail the SAT, you must fail so comprehensively that you should no longer be allowed to design your own livery. You should, in a paternalistic manner, have your entire fleet forcibly repainted into the Star Alliance colors.

A livery is meant to distinguish and represent an airline. Even a bad design is still a design. The reason that RESAS fails the SAT, in my mind, is that it doesn't feel like a design. It's not coherent. It's not intentional. It doesn't feel like improperly integrated parts, or even multiple liveries stapled together. It feels like it was designed by random number generator. It utterly fails to represent the airline, utterly fails to look good, and utterly fails to even seem like thought was put into it.

To fail the SAT is to get to the point where I genuinely think it is so shameful to paint this on your planes, so inept on every level, that it would be better to just not have a livery. It would be an act of mercy to become indistinguishable from other airlines instead of staying as it is, a thing you could only ever pity and never truly love. Never respect. The most wretched sort of creature. If your shirt is stained too badly, you just can't keep going on like that. People will point and laugh at you, and that's never fun. They'll say 'that guy's shirt is covered in mysterious substances', and you have to just put on a jacket and cover it up until you get home and fumigate it with kerosene. From 1998 to 2019, SAS would have been better off just not having a livery than they were flying that...thing.

It doesn't have to be Star Alliance in particular. Just something which renders the airplane mostly generic. They can keep a little logo on there but they don't get their own design. It could just as easily be, say, forcible repainting into the default manufacturer liveries Airbus and Boeing use for prototype aircraft.

Not the end of the world, right? These are surely not unbearable liveries. I don't think it's any worse giving up your identity to say you're part of Star Alliance than it is to subdue it in favor of the model of plane. If you're SAS pre-2019, this may be a decent option for you. If you're literally anyone else, the mere concept should be philosophically repugnant.

I am actually being kind, though. If I were to be even harsher, I could have easily made this the SmartLynx Test.

I asked you all about SmartLynx. To begin with, not a single person believed they could recall seeing one of their planes, or that they had flown with them. I didn't think they'd be able to. That's not a question I can really answer about myself either, at least not with any confidence. But what is SmartLynx?

The vast majority of responses just expressed bewilderment. I got 50 total replies to the questionnaire itself. Keep in mind that some people declined to answer, and I didn't include them, and even still the number of people who actively expressed that they did not know is nearly half of all responses. Few of the answers were especially confident, either. I'm fairly sure the ones about transporting animals were all jokes, and nearly everyone expressed that their answer was a guess. Someone just said 'bad', which I thought was pretty funny. I liked that answer.

I got two people who said that SmartLynx are airplane lessors. Actually, one said 'private airplane sharing company', but I've interpreted that as meaning lessor. Anyway, they're right. The people who said charter also aren't wrong.

SmartLynx are a Latvian airline which specializes in wet leases. For those unaware, a wet lease (very bad term) in aviation is a lease of an airplane that comes with a crew to operate it. Generally everything else, like fuel and various operating fees, is on the airline leasing the plane, and they're also the ones who market and sell the tickets. Basically, you could get on a flight, your ticket says, for example, Oceanic Airlines Flight 1, you bought it from the Oceanic Airlines website using your Oceanic Airlines miles, and be none the wiser that SmartLynx owns the airplane and pays the pilots flying it. These vary a little, but generally a wet lease provides ACMI (aircraft, crew, maintenance, and insurance), and if you ever see the term 'damp' or 'moist' lease that means the cabin crew is provided by the lessee rather than the lessor, but apparently neither sees much use. Which is a shame, because I think this is one of the few situations where more categories actually might make this easier to parse.

If all of that is sort of confusing and a lot of information upfront, you are not alone in feeling like this! I'm still pretty shaky in my own understanding of it. I'm a history person, not a business person. You can think of it as codesharing but never mentioning that's what you're doing, if that's any easier. It's also similar to regional brands of larger carriers, like Delta Connection flights being flown by Endeavor Air or SkyWest, though these carriers aren't going as far as to lease and are still on the hook for their own operating costs.

Every time I explain this to someone for the first time they think it's pretty deranged, and I don't completely disagree, but it's very normal. There are plenty of reasons airlines might wet lease, generally involving them not having the capacity to fulfill demand. All sorts of airlines provide wet leases, and all sorts of airlines hire them. It can create weird legal loopholes regarding who is allowed to fly in whose airspace, but typically it's just one airline not having enough planes for the holiday peak. They usually last for a few weeks or months, rather than the many years of a 'dry' lease which includes a plane only.

SmartLynx fly basically everything you can think of - passenger, cargo, holiday charter. Some airlines they've leased for are EasyJet, DHL, Finnair, and victim of the blog condor. Because they never operate flights under their own name, there is absolutely no reason for them to have their own livery. Indeed, it makes more sense not to, since it would be easier to leave their planes blank in case they want to repaint them into another airline's livery for a longer-term lease.

If you fail the Star Alliance Test, I think you would be better off painting your entire plane white.

SmartLynx has no identity because their entire point is to assume that of others. They basically do the airline equivalent of paying somebody to take an exam for you. This is a SmartLynx plane with Saudia logos on airasia color-blocking. It's a bit weird-looking, sure, but it betrays nothing about SmartLynx because their entire job is to not have a brand. Nobody has ever seen a SmartLynx plane because they exist literally but not philosophically - the job of a SmartLynx plane is to fly for a different airline. They are the stagehands of aviation, scurrying around in all black to stand out as little as possible.

But SAS isn't SmartLynx. SAS is a big airline, a flag carrier, and to say that they fail the SAT means that I would prefer their planes all be wiped from existence in an apocalyptic flood of liquid paper. I do not think the 1998-2019 SAS livery deserves to exist. I keep repeating myself because I need to stress how profoundly difficult it is to get me to this point. I would rather a livery be clumsy, bare-bones, poorly executed, cowardly, genuinely ugly, absolutely dismal, than it be non-existent. It takes something absolutely tremendous to bring me to the point RESAS has, where there is nothing, no vision, no meaning, no direction, no design, that justifies its existence.

...so what about condor?

condor was the first airline to get a grade of F. The second was the aforementioned red engined SAS livery, now mercifully retired and thus reduced to a footnote in a post about how far SAS has come. The reason I brought up the SAT in SAS's post and didn't in condor's is that condor emphatically passes the SAT.

I began with the assumption that the SAT was a good measure of if a livery deserves an F, and maybe it still is, but it's definitely not all there is to it. condor is different from Copa and RESAS, it just is. And I think the best evidence of this is that, of all the reviews I've posted, condor is the only one where a significant portion of people who reblogged it disagreed with me. I do understand that at the end of the day everything I say is subjective, and I don't mind when people have opposing views on something, but combined with my own thoughts on the livery, and the process of researching and writing my BWIA post, it pushed me to an epiphany about what makes a truly great and truly terrible livery. And, partly out of curiosity and partly to follow this new path of personal evolution, I asked survey-takers what they think of the condor livery. Maybe I should have left it as a free-response question, but I wanted figures, numbers. So here's what I got. (Free responses have been merged into whichever category they match closest for the sake of simplicity.)

These results are fascinating. First, you may notice that this is missing two options. Not a single person said that this livery was boring, or that they felt neutrally towards it. Even people who are still making up their minds are a dramatic minority.

Second, people who had a clear-cut opinion of the livery, positive or negative, made up just over a fifth of respondents. Most people were at least to some extent conflicted, although which specific variant of conflict varied. There are people who appreciate the idea but do not like the appearance of the livery, and then there are people who find some charm in it. Around 2/3 of these people cannot force themselves to fully insult what they see as a sort of goofy creature, while the other third cannot allow their emotions to sway their rating. If my post on the matter didn't fully convey it, this is probably the closest to my own opinion.

If I was condor, and I saw these results from a focus group (replicated on a scale far larger than my survey, of course) I would probably say to go ahead with this livery. All press is good press, as they say. You're going to end up with a livery that sticks with people, and they're going to respect that even if they think it's hideous. At the very least, they're going to notice you.

Condor's livery is ugly. I will not change my stance; it does not look good. It is unpleasing to my eyes. But it is not the opposite of an A+ livery. In fact, it has a lot in common with them. The reason I love PSA, BWIA, and Amakusa Airlines so much isn't just that they make good use of the plane's shape, have pleasing colors, and generally look nice, but because they are built on the bedrock of a concept which goes beyond designing an airplane. In BWIA's review in particular I discussed the fact that it takes the approach of building a livery around an idea rather than an idea around the concept of what a livery should be; this is what distinguishes an A+ from an A, and the gulf is far larger than the gulf between any two other grades. The difference between 'it's on the better side of okay' and 'I somewhat tepidly like it' can be rather small compared to the difference between 'it's very good' and 'it's genius'.

In the 2022 film "Nope", protagonist OJ asks if there is such a thing as a 'bad miracle'. To me, condor is something similar: bad genius. condor takes a once-in-a-decade great concept and executes it incomprehensibly poorly, and now they're the infamous ugly stripe planes. It has failed spectacularly but it has failed in perfect harmony with itself. It is unlikely that someone attempting to make an ugly livery as a joke or a parody could come up with something quite this sad. I've struggled for a little bit to think of a way to convey what it means to me, and I think I might have finally found it.

The town of Borja, Spain has a population of under 5,000. Although it was largely unremarkable as far as this sort of work goes, they were quite fond of a fresco painted on their church wall around 1930 by the artist Elías García Martínez. All art begins to deteriorate over time, and frescoes are notoriously difficult to conserve. In 2012, an octogenarian with no relevant training had a vision of a gorgeous restored painting. She definitely should have thought before acting. Just because you see something in your mind's eye doesn't mean you can make it real. And if you rush into it you might make...well, you see the picture on the right.

This picture is hideous. And it has brought in crowds of tourists hundreds of times the size of the town's actual population. Their money has funded pensions and built infrastructure. It has become a cultural icon. Nearly everyone with an internet connection has seen it. It's by far the most memorable thing about this tiny town. It is a work of bad genius.

Say what you will about condor's planes - and I myself have said many mean things about them. They are ugly and they are iconic. They are condor's grand statement, and no matter how ugly I think they are the world would be losing something if they were assimilated into identical Star Alliance liveries.

This striped livery is terrible, and it is great. It is worse than many liveries are good. And it does not fail as a livery. It is fundamentally condor's, and there is nothing like it. Distinctive, coherent, unique...and also ugly.

I've realized that condor belongs as a fundamental landmark in my understanding of liveries, just like Lufthansa or BWIA or PSA. Now that I've said all of what I've said in this post, I think giving condor an F just doesn't work. It doesn't belong in the same category as liveries which fail the Star Alliance Test. It doesn't deserve a better grade though. Something so bombastically, almost elegantly hideous requires a rethinking of the scale I've been using.

condor gets Runway Runway's first ever Z rating.

It does a tremendously poor job at being good, but a fantastic job of being a livery. In order for the Star Alliance Test to retain its meaning and the F tier to retain its coherence, condor needs to be reclassified. It is awful, hideous, sloppy, a waste of potential, but it is potential, and 'awful' originally referred to something which inspired awe.

#tarmac fashion week #grade: z #condor #scandinavian airlines system #long haul #questionnaire 1

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aramis-dagaz · 3 months ago

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Writober Day 6: Oracular, Curse

((Jacky is from Faded Scars and used with permission))

“Do…do you think they’ll be okay?”

Jacky looked at Resa. The bear didn’t give a lot away, but Jacky could see in her eyes that she was scared. That makes two of us…

She didn’t want to tell her a comforting lie. Didn’t seem right, especially since she still felt responsible for putting her in this situation. But she didn’t want to add to her worries, either. She was just glad the children were asleep; probably the reason Resa felt comfortable asking.

Jacky instead decided to voice her own reason for confidence. “He’s with a good crew. Level heads, no strangers to trouble. And while Rails doesn’t look it, he’s very good in a fight. I trust him with my life, and you should trust your husband’s with him, too.”

Resa closed her worried eyes and took a deep breath. “Then I will. Thank you.” She clearly was still scared, but it at least gave her something to cling to. Jacky wished she could give her more.

“Though, uh…” Resa glanced over her shoulder at Sister Claire, who was seated with the children, a dozing guardian angel, though Jacky had no doubts she would be awake the instant something threatened them to do something about it. Satisfied they wouldn’t be heard, Resa leaned in closer, looking somewhat ashamed. “Manuel isn’t, well, he isn’t my husband.”

Jacky blinked. “Oh, so fiance, then?” A quick head shake. “Okay, so your beau. Nothing wrong with that, though knowing that I’m actually more impressed he dropped everything to make sure you and the kids were safe. He didn’t need to do that.”

Resa chuckled. “Manuel would definitely say you’re wrong there. He loves the children as though they were his own flesh and blood. He’s definitely a father to them.”

“I stand corrected, if I were actually standing,” Jacky replied, earning another chuckle. “If you don’t mind me asking, why not marry him? You two clearly love each other.”

The sigh told Jacky that she just wandered into a well-worn question and immediately regretted asking. “Actually, you don’t have to answer that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have pried like that, it’s none of my business.”

“No, it’s fine,” Resa said, gazing down at her hands in her lap. “It’s the circumstances I have chosen, so I shouldn’t be so secretive about it.”

“Everyone has secrets, and not all are meant to be shared.”

Resa shook her head. “Maybe, but the Saints teach us that hiding our sins and shame away only prevents us from communing fully with the Divine.” She stopped, glancing back up at her with a sheepish look. “Er, that is, I don’t mind talking about it, but I won’t force something so personal on you, especially with everything going on.”

Jacky glanced back out at the dark desert. She shifted her position so both of them had their backs to Sister Claire and the children, with only the night and the critters in it to hear them.

“If you don’t mind talking about it, then I don’t mind hearing it.”

Resa closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “The truth is, I left my husband three years ago. I won’t go into details, but, well, he was not the man I thought he was, especially when he was drunk, and he was drunk a lot. I could put up with a lot, but when he started hurting the children…” She covered her eyes with one of her massive, powerful hands, her breath catching. Jacky waited patiently.

“I…I simply couldn’t let that continue. Thank the Saints that I was able to find a sympathetic and very persuasive lawyer, and thus I was able to leave with the children. It was just us for a long time.”

“Then Manuel?”

She couldn’t hide her smile. “Yes, then Manuel. He came in with the railroad, occasionally coming into town for provisions and to get their laundry cleaned.” She laughed quietly. “And I thought the ranchers produced dirty clothes. I think running laundry was something they foisted upon whomever drew the short straw, but I kept seeing him more and more. Just his bad luck, I guess.”

“Some folk make their own luck, as some would say,” Jacky said with a grin.

“Oh, believe me, I think he volunteered for the really dirty jobs just for an excuse,” Resa replied. “Well, I’m no stranger to men taking a shine to me, but most find reasons to be elsewhere when they find out that I have children. Not Manuel, though. He fell in love with them the moment he saw them, and he would bring them gifts, play with them, accompany us to church. And when the railroad finished the new route, when most of the workers left looking for work elsewhere, he came back and found work in town. It’s been that way for over a year now.”

“He sounds like a very good man.”

“Few better, I daresay.”

They sat in silence, listening to the crackling of the fire behind them and the stirring silence in the desert before them, letting the warmth of the tale warm their hearts against the cruel coldness of the world.

“But, of course, that leads back to the original question…” Jacky said after a long while.

Resa exhaled slowly as the moment passed. “Yes, it does.” She turned to look at Jacky. “What do you know of the Saints’ teachings?”

“Not much, admittedly. I’ve heard some of their stories, mainly the ones everyone knows about.”

“The Saints, well, they have much to say about marriage. Some feel that…” Resa shook her head. “No, I won’t bore you with theological details. Suffice to say, regardless of their exact views they all agree that there is one true model that the Divine calls upon us to follow, and that is marriage is eternal and enduring, beyond the ability for mere mortals like us to sunder.”

“But you did divorce your husband, right?”

“Only by mortal law, and that was just to protect the children,” she replied, some iron in her tone. “I feel no shame for that, I did what I had to do.” She sighed, the strength evaporating from her. “But by the Saints’ law, the Divine’s law, we’re still married, and nothing we can do will change that.”

Jacky sat quietly, ruminating on what she told her. “I can’t say I fully understand,” she said, settling on a neutral answer.

“Not many do, admittedly, even among those who claim to follow the Saints’ teachings. Though…I understand why many Saints advocate for it, even if only as a way to mitigate the damage of our sinful ways.” She brushed her eyes with an unsteady hand. “It’s…humbling to be in the position of those you once scorned, however quietly.”

“So that’s it? You and Manuel are simply never going to marry?” Jacky asked.

“Never. I hate to do that to him, because he truly deserves far, far better. But I…he’s so kind and loving with the children, and…and…” She clamped her hands over her face to silence her quavering voice and hold back the tears. “Saints preserve me, the temptations I have for that man!”

Jacky reached over and rested her hand on the bear’s massive arm. “I’m sure there’s a Saint that would defend you regardless.”

Resa’s sob became a truncated laugh. “Oh, there is, there is. A minor one in the canon, but understandably very popular.” She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. “But I endeavor to make sure they won’t have to busy themselves too much with me when the day comes. I can endure some temptation and gossip if it means the children will have a good father.”

“Sounds rough.”

“It can be, more often than I care to admit. Sometimes I wonder if I’m trying to have things both ways and playing my own game with the Divine. That’s never a good idea, according to many of the Saints’ stories.” Resa took a deep breath and sat up straighter. “I’ve made some bad decisions, but all I can do is just live with them and keep moving on. It’s all any of us can do. To let yourself be weighed down by the guilt of your own sins only keeps you from truly embracing the Saints’ teachings and communing fully with the Divine.”

She looked at Jacky and a sheepish look crossed her face. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to preach like that. You’re already doing a lot for us without me giving you a theological lecture.”

“No,” Jacky said, her thoughts turning back to everything that brought her here, “no, I think you’ve given me something to think about. Though if you ask me, I think you’re putting far too great a burden upon yourself, even if it is for your kids. Still, can’t say I don’t find something about your…moral endurance? There’s something about it that I can’t help but find admirable.”

“Well, if my story helps you in some way, then perhaps it might’ve been worth it. Somewhat.”

“Let’s not go quite that far. There’s gotta be far easier ways to put reprobates like me on the straight and narrow.”

Resa chuckled. “Okay, you’re probably right in that regard. Anyway, thank you for listening. It…felt good to get that off my chest.”

“It sounded like you needed to talk about it, so I’m glad I could help a bit.”

#stories #aramis dagaz's stories #writober #writober 2024 #jacky faded scars #morktober #trenchtober

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