#roosterxwidow!reader

[thatlovinfeelin]

Where Do You Go? | two | Bradley Rooster Bradshaw

Your husband died in a training accident, unexpectedly. So what happens when you find yourself leaning on his best friend and wingman, Rooster Bradshaw?

Part One

For the second time in two weeks, someone knocked on your door. Today you really didn’t want to see anyone. It was your wedding anniversary. Today, instead of being sad, you were angry. The kind of deep anger that just seemed to keep boiling under the surface, waiting to burst free. 

Rooster once again stood on the other side of the door, pizza boxes in hand. He gave you a small smile when you opened the door, which quickly dropped when he saw your face. He started to regret just showing up at your doorstep for a second time. 

“What are you doing here?” You questioned, shifting on your feet, “With pizza?”

“I just-” He took a deep breath, “I didn’t think you needed to be alone today, and I figured you wouldn’t ask anyone to come over. I also figured that you probably haven’t eaten anything, so I brought dinner.”

“Why are you really here?” 

He sighed, shoulders dropping, “Because I promised him I would take care of you if anything happened, and so far I’ve failed him.”

It was your turn to sigh. You weren’t the only one who grieved the loss of your husband, you knew that. But sometimes it was just easier to act like you were the only one who missed him. You lived with him and loved him and planned on having his children and spending the rest of your life with him. But Rooster was like his brother. His grief might be different from yours, but he was still grieving too. 

“You can come in,” You step back, opening the door for him, “I was going to watch a movie to try to take my mind off of things. Just hadn’t picked one out yet.”

He followed you to the living room. You spent many nights here with Rooster and Kurtis. Kurt would have Rooster over for dinner at least once a month. You’d have game nights together. You couldn’t count the amount of times the two men made you laugh so hard that you cried.

The house seemed so full of light and life then, now it just feels dark and cold.

“There are a bunch of movies under the tv,” You told him, pointing to the entertainment center, “You can pick one. I’d probably end up playing his favorite and crying the whole time.”

He nods, reaching the entertainment center. You don’t look back as you grab the plates out of one of the cabinets, catching a glimpse of your small tattoo on your wrist as you did. You had matching ones with Kurtis, got them the day you were married. It was his idea to get them during the reception, a simple fine line tattoo consisting of your wedding date. 

Now it was the worst kind of reminder.

Part of you just wants to scrub it off, if only you could. You wouldn’t have it removed though, not when it’s one of the only things left to tie you to him. One of the only reminders that he was real, and alive, and loved you. 

Rooster fell asleep during the movie, so did you. You dreamed of your wedding, the beautiful white dress that still hangs in the back of your closet, and the flowers, and the way Kurtis looked at you all day. It was the perfect day with the perfect man. You loved him with all of your heart, and you thought nothing would ever really separate the two of you. You never thought death would actually come. 

Rooster woke to the sound of glass smashing and breaking. He shot straight up, eyes needing to adjust to the now dark living room. He heard you grunt before more smashing. He lept to his feet, rushing towards the hall. 

You let out a small scream before ripping another picture off of the wall and throwing it at the floor, causing the frame to break and glass to spray everywhere. Shards were stuck in your feet and legs. You didn’t seem to notice though, not as you threw another picture down at the floor. 

Bradley tried to make his way towards you, glass crunching under his feet. You fought against his hold, trying to break free. Sobs fell from your lips as more glass lodged into your skin. 

“Hey hush,” He tried to soothe you, holding you tightly, “I’ve got you. Okay? Just calm down.”

“He’s gone,” You cried, arms still flailing, “He’s gone and I can’t…I can’t do this without him.”

Rooster’s body went cold before he picked you up in one swift motion. He didn’t say anything as he carried you to the bathroom and set you on the counter. You kept crying, unable to stop. 

This was the first time you really allowed yourself to feel the loss of your husband. You could finally feel the anger and the complete emptiness that seems to be taking over your entire body. You wanted to hit something-anything really. You wanted to feel the pain. 

Maybe that’s why the glass didn’t bother you the way it should. Somehow, you liked the sting, because it gave you something else to focus on. Something other than the pain of losing him.

“I gotta get the glass out,” Rooster said softly, digging in the cabinet for the first aid kit that Kurtis always kept around, “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I don’t care.”

Your voice was deadpan, cold and empty. It made Rooster worry, and he wasn’t one to worry all that much. He was careful, yes, and maybe cautious, but that was the extent of it. 

He sighed and reached for a pair of tweezers in the box, deciding to start with the larger pieces of glass. He had a bottle of rubbing alcohol next to him, ready to clean your wounds. Your heart ached because of how gentle he was being with you. 

“Why was it him?” 

He shook his head, “I don’t know. It could have been any of us.”

“Did he say anything?”

“Only that he loved you,” He replied, pulling out another chunk of glass, “That was the last thing he said, he wanted me to tell you that he loved you.”

You could hardly breathe. His last words were for you, and only you. He loved you, and he died with that on his lips. Nothing else. It hurt. Was he scared? God, you hoped he didn’t die scared. For weeks you’ve had the same nightmare about the accident, and how scared he must have been.

“He didn’t deserve it,” Rooster explained, “He was a good man, one of the best.”

When you didn’t say anything, Rooster went back to work on your legs. They weren’t too bad, but some of the cuts might scar a little. He didn’t think they would be bad though, nothing like his own scars. He always swore his scars were the worst part of himself, but you always said the opposite. You made him feel like he was worth more than he saw. 

“This is going to sting a bit,” He told you, looking up briefly, “I need to clean them out.”

You flinched a little but didn’t otherwise move. Rooster wished he could get through to you. He wished there was something he could do to fix the ache in your chest. He watched his mom go through this, but was never sure if it was made better or worse because she had him. You were doing this alone though. You had no one on your side, no one with you day in and day out.

He could be that for you. If it meant that you would be okay, he would be there for you. He would keep his promise to Kurtis. The promise he made on this day all of those years ago. He promised if anything ever happened, he would take care of you. So far, he failed in his promise. He wouldn’t keep doing that. 

“My mom had me,” he explained, “Maybe I made it easier, maybe I made it harder. But she had me, and you don’t have anyone here for you. So, from now on, you have me too. You get me? I’m here.”

“I should have him here.”

He nodded slowly, “You should. But I promise you, I’ll do the best I can.”