#tyler rake fan fic

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 26

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. However, you do not need to read the other fics to understand this one)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @residentdormouse @thebejeweledwatercat @asirensrage @theesirenteller @ninjasawakenedmystar @alisbackalleybbq @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity @fanficanatic-tw @karimac @kmc1989

Warnings: profanity, brief mentions of blood, bruises, scrapes, cuts. Nothing major.

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/134444914

My tag list is OPEN. Please just message me or comment on this post to be added :D

*****

The house is one of half a dozen Nik has collected around the world; located on the Amalfi Coast along the southern edge of Italy’s Sorrentine peninsula. A highly secure five-bedroom, six-bathroom villa that backs onto a cliff that overlooks the Tyrrhenian Sea; built a kilometre from the main road and hidden from sight by a dense, expansive lemon grove.

Despite the years of both work experience and friendship, he had never set foot in any of her homes; business always being conducted in neutral yet secretive places, over the telephone, or even -years before- at his old shack in the outback. They have always travelled in different circles; Nik’s beyond-the-job friendships extending to powerful politicians, multi-million and billionaire businessmen, heads of organized crime and the shady, top-notch lawyers that defended them. Tyler prefers to stick with the couple of buddies he’s known for years; the ones that he can trust with nearly every one of his darkest and deepest secrets. Koen and Rata both serving with him in the ‘normal’ ranks of the Australian Army before he secured his place with SASR. The former his direct superior officer for several years; since the day he’d shown up at boot camp as a cocky, wet-behind-the-years eighteen-year-old.

While Nik prefers the sophisticated, luxurious life that being a gun runner and the head of her mercenary business provides her, Tyler has always lived well below his means. Able to afford much more than that shack in the outback and even the house in the Broome, but never feeling the need for something more expensive and flashy. Even keeping the same old pickup he’d had since he was a teenager; doing his own repairs for nearly two decades before finally running the old girl into the ground.

Their distinct differences had prevented him from developing something more with Nik; drawn instead to the normalcy and practicality that Esme brought into his life. She had always longed for a much simpler and quieter existence; preferring not to draw attention to herself and never surrounding herself with those that they encountered in their respective careers Somehow managing to keep the two sides of her life -of HERSELF- completely separate; leaving the job behind the second a mission wrapped and able to -no matter how brief- enjoy a normal life. The job didn’t control her, and she didn’t obsess over her successes and failures. Indulging instead in all the little moments that came with routine and domesticity. Nik, however, was unable ever to let the job go. Spending every waking moment immersing herself in the lifestyle and enjoying its spoils. And she certainly never entertained the idea or wish of something more beyond it; laughing off any suggestion that perhaps marriage and children and settling down were somewhere in her cards.

He had never realized he wanted any of that either; his first marriage had crashed and burned, and he’d been a complete and utter failure as a father. But then he’d met Esme, and everything quickly changed. HE changed. Finding himself both mesmerized and intrigued by the love and joy she somehow still possessed for life and everyone in it, the whimsy she possessed, and those hopeful and wistful dreams that she carried with her everywhere she went.

THAT was someone he could see carving out a future with.

Upon arrival, he reluctantly puts his trust in the medic to ‘deliver’ Esme to the waiting doctor; a longtime colleague of Nik’s who has attended to many injuries -both minor and life-threatening and everything in between- over the course of the last decade and a half. The largest of the villa’s guest rooms is already prepared and stocked with various medical equipment and supplies: a machine to monitor vitals, an IV stand and a pain medicine pump. And it isn’t until that moment that he’s able to register his discomfort; plagued by near-crippling mental and physical exhaustion. His entire body screaming in pain; his lower back on fire, both his knees stiff and painful, and his head pounding from a likely concussion of his own. Yet he knows sleep will likely elude him. Plagued by a potent mixture of emotions; the profound worry for Esme, the lingering regret and guilt for his choices, and his momentary lapse of judgement. And a rage that remains on a low boil when it comes to both Alessio, his actions, and Winston’s betrayal and the words he’d spoken in the basement.

Instead of allowing himself to second-guess his decisions and plot revenge, he focuses on Millie. Carefully unbuckling her from the booster seat in the back of one of Nik’s many chauffeured cars, easily lifting her with one arm and tucking her tight into his chest. Her legs and arms dangle loosely as her head rests on his shoulder; not offering up even the slightest of flinches or mumbles when he tosses her sequined unicorn backpack -full of her art supplies, finished pictures, and her beloved doll and koala bear- over his shoulder.

“Her room’s the first one at the top of the stairs.” Nik nods toward the central staircase; gleaming white and gray marble accompanied by polished steel handrails and glass panels. “On the right.”

It makes the bitterness return; the realization that Millie has her own ‘place’ in Nik’s home. An expansive and beautiful suite fit for a princess, decorated in all of her favourite colours, holding all of her favourite toys and belongings, the closets filled with her clothes. He had been robbed of all of that; never getting the chance to put a crib together, change a single diaper, put her in a bubble gum pink onesie, or slip one of those ridiculous flowered headbands onto her head. He never got to tuck her in and read her a bedtime story; he was never able to help with potty training or assist with brushing her teeth. He hadn’t witnessed her going from rolling from back to front and side to side to sitting up and eventually pulling up into a stand. He wasn’t there when she’d taken her first steps, hadn’t seen her learning to run, and hadn’t heard her first words.

So many missed opportunities. Things that others had been blessed to experience. While he’d never even known of her existence.

He uses a hip to push open the door and an elbow to flick on the light. The room is enormous; possessing its own walk-in closet and ensuite bath and a separate crafting area sectioned off with a dinosaur AND princess-themed room divider. An entire wall is taken up with built-in shelves, hosting books, stuffed animals, and a wide selection of Barbie dolls, action figures, and matchbox cars. A wrought iron canopy bed sits in the middle of the room and atop a three-stepped platform; the frame decorated with pink and gray camouflage drapes and the mattress covered in a Batman comforter.

Tossing the backpack in a nearby chair, he climbs the steps to the bed; Millie clutched to his chest with one arm as his free hand pulls back the blankets and flat sheet. And she gives a slight whimper and a heavy sigh when he places her in the middle of the mattress; her eyes flickering open as she lets out a long, soft “daddy” and reaches up for him.

Time seems to stand still. His entire body tenses as the emotions -profound and overwhelming- rush through him. It’s been a long time since he’s been called that; over a decade since Austin had addressed him that way during his last weeks in the hospital as the cancer ravaged him. Esme had been the one who’d given him a semblance of hope; that one day he’d once more be given that title and he’d hear the word come out of a little one’s mouth. When she left, that dream had evaporated; gone was the one person he could ever see making that kind of commitment and building that kind of future with. And while Millie may not be fully aware of what she’s saying in a semi-conscious moment, it still nearly brings him to his knees; tears welling in his eyes as his throat tightens and his heart hammers within his chest.

Grumbling her displeasure of being awakened, Millie sits up in bed; her brow furrowed and eyes half closed, a pout curving her lips. Stuck in a state of disorientation and confusion as she glances around the room. “Where are we?”

“We’re at Auntie Nik’s house. The one in Italy. Remember how I told you? About how we were going to stay here for a few days?”

“Oh…” Yawning noisily, she presses the heels of her palms into her eyes. “...yeah…I remember. Where’s momma?”

“The doctor is taking a look at her. Just to make sure she’s doing alright. Then she’s going to sleep. Just like you’re going to. You want jammies on or are you just gonna sleep in your clothes or…?”

“Jammies, please. Where’s Franklin? And Posie? I can’t sleep without Franklin or Posie. Posie needs her jammies on, too. They’re with mine. They match.”

Collecting the doll and koala out of the backpack, he drops them on the bed. “And the jammies…”

“In my dresser. Top middle drawer.”

He searches for pyjamas for both her and the doll, finally locating matching nightgowns: white cotton with thin straps, the fabric emblazoned with colourful butterflies.

“Those are my favourite!” Millie enthuses, as she wriggles out of her clothes. “Mommy made those for us! Out of pillowcases! They’re really supposed to be dresses, but I always liked wearing them as jammies. So does Posie.”

“Your mum’s a pretty talented one, isn’t she?”

“Most of the time. Just don’t ask her to cook. She’s not very good at that. At all. My dirty clothes go in there…” She nods towards the ensuite bathroom.. “...that’s where the washer and dryer are.”

“You have your own washer and dryer? You're four.”

“It’s not like I know how to use them. They’re just there. For convenience, I guess. Well, I do know HOW to put stuff in the wash and in the dryer. I just can’t reach to turn them on.”

“You are way too smart for your own good.”

“Mom says that all the time.”

Retreating to the ensuite, tossing the clothes into the washer; leaving the door open for more to be added later. And when he returns to the bedroom, both Millie and the doll are already in their pyjamas; the four-year-old waiting in bed with a hairbrush in one hand, and a package of elastics in the other.

“We have to do my hair. Or it gets really knotted when I’m asleep and then it’s really hard to brush it in when I get up.. And it hurts like hell too! Do you know how to braid hair?”

“No.”

“I can teach you!”

“How about we leave that for tomorrow? When it’s not so late. Think maybe we could do something else with it? Put it in a bun or a ponytail or…?”

“Ponytail is alright. But you gotta put it up on the top of my head, or I can’t sleep. ‘Cause it hurts to lie on it.”

He gingerly and patiently works the brush through Millie’s tresses, then gathers it in both hands and secures it with the hair tie she passes to him. It’s a simple experience shared with his daughter, yet it brings back vivid memories of similar moments with her mother. Those times when Esme would be busy in the kitchen; focused on a recipe she was trying to recreate or the baking that had that little cabin filled with delicious aromas. He’d approach her from behind; sneaking a kiss to her cheek or temple before putting her hair back for her.

“What else?”

“I gotta brush my teeth.”

“How ‘bout we skip it tonight?”

“Momma won’t like that.”

“I won’t tell her if you won’t. We’ll just make sure you brush them twice as long after breakfast.”

“Does that work? Does it really make up for not doing it before bed?”

“Of course. Would I lie to you?”

Millie shakes her head, ponytail swaying from side to side.

“So does your mum read a story to you or…?”

“Sometimes. Not every night. Only if I ask. I’m too tired tonight. No stories. But thank you.”

“Do you want me to just tuck you in or…?”

“Will you snuggle with me? Just for a little bit? It’s been a really bad day, and I’m still super sad. I need a snuggle. A really good one. And momma can’t do it, so…”

He agrees to the snuggle; moving towards the door in order to shut off the lights, pauses with his hand on the switch. “You got a night light or something?”

“Nope. I’m not scared of that dark, daddy. I’m not a baby!”

He wants to tell her that yes, she is. That she’s HIS baby. How regardless of how old she gets and how many children she has of her own, she always WILL be. And while the first time being called daddy had been a shock, the second occurrence hits even harder; the realization that it was a fully conscious decision on Millie’s part and not just a slip of the tongue… a random moment…while still teetering on the edge of sleep. He’s thankful for the darkness that envelopes the room when he turns off the light, able to hide the tears sparkling in his eyes and the millions of questions a very observant Millie will lob at him. And climbing into bed beside her, he wraps both arms around her; that tiny body snuggling tightly against him, doll and bear under one arm, her face nestled in his ribs.

“You good?”

“I’m good. You’re nice and warm. And comfy. You make me feel safe. Like I don’t have anything to be scared of.”

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one can hurt you anymore. I won’t let them.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. And I’d promise with a million pinkie promises.”

“That’s a lot!”

“That’s how honest I’m being. You and your mum ARE safe. And I’ll make sure you stay that way. I won’t let anyone hurt you guys. And there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for either of you. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Nuzzling her face against his side, she places her free hand on his chest. “Will you draw on my back? Please? It helps me sleep.”

He obliges, his own eyes closing as his fingertips create random patterns on her back. Several minutes passing before she yawns and raises her head to look at him, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that streams through the curtains.

“Daddy?”

“Millie?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

“I’ll go to sleep AFTER I ask my question.”

“What is it?”

“You and momma lived together, right? Before I came along? In Australia?”

“We did.”

“In the house you live in now?”

“No. A different house. In a different part of Australia.”

“But the house you live in now is the house we are ALL going to live in? Or do we have to get a new one?”

“We won’t have to get a new one for a while. There’s enough room for all of us. And maybe one or two more people.”

“That means you and momma can start having babies!”

“That’s something your mum and I would have to talk about. I don’t know if she’s quite ready for that. Having babies.”

“Well, I hope she’s ready soon. ‘Cause I really want to be a big sister. And I’m not getting any younger!”

“If you think you’re not getting any younger, how do you think I feel? I’m way older than you are.”

“How much older?”

“A lot.”

“How much is that? How old ARE you?”

“I’m forty.”

“Holy shit!”

“Excuse you? Forty’s not THAT old.”

“It’s middle age! You’re older than momma!”

“I am.”

“Momma’s only thirty-four. But she’s going to be thirty-five soon. Maybe we can have a party for her. For her birthday.”

“I don’t see why we couldn’t.”

“We can even make her a birthday cake and put up balloons and streamers and play games! We can even take her out for dinner!”

“You got it all planned, do you?”

“Most of it. I don’t know about the guest list, though.”

“That’s something we can talk about when it’s closer to the time. For now….” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “...it’s time for bed. It’s late. And it’s been a really long day. Time to sleep, okay?”

“Okay.” Pushing herself up onto her elbow, she pecks his cheek, followed by the corner of his mouth. Her face buried in his ribs as she once more lies down next to him. “Goodnight, daddy. Love you.”

Tears threaten once more. “I love you, too. So very much.”

*****

He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when a soft knock comes to the door; Nik standing on the threshold, motioning for him to join her and the doctor in the hallway. Carefully slipping from under Millie’s arm and out of bed, he tucks the blankets around her slumbering form and then leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. Reluctantly leaving her side, he joins Nikand the doctor in the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind him.

“How’s she doing?” Nik inquires, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

“She’s finally asleep. I don’t know where she gets all that energy from. She wore me out a long time ago.”

“You’ve got your work cut out for you, daddy. She’s cute as hell, but she can be a real handful. And you’ve just been thrown right to the wolves.”

“Esme?” Tyler addresses the doctor. “ How is she?”

“Very lucky. Considering the intensity of the crash and the damage done to the vehicle, I’m surprised we’re not looking at life-threatening injuries. If not worse.”

“Anything I need to worry about or…?”

“For the most part, I agree with the medic’s findings. There’s no sign of internal bleeding, and there’s no dilation of the pupils, slurred speech, or difficulties with reflexes. And no confusion; she was able to tell me her full name, what day, month, and year it was, and give a very detailed description of what exactly happened. Ruling out a brain injury, the diagnosis remains the same; whiplash and a moderate to severe concussion. Both should begin to ease within the next few days. I do suspect a bruised liver and spleen, however. I’ll be able to monitor those over the next forty-eight hours. For any sign of tearing or rupture.”

“He does think the sternum is broken,” Nik pipes up. “Based on the severity of the pain. And limited movement.”

“Nothing more than a hairline fracture,” the Doctor explains. “And nothing that we could repair surgically or even cast for. The best course of action is none; just letting it heal on its own. She’ll need to rest it for at least four weeks; no lifting anything over ten pounds, no repetitive movement. She can wear a sling if she finds it lessens the discomfort. As far as I can tell, the majority of the pain is actually from the contusion caused by the seat belt; deep and prolific bruising from the top of her shoulder, running diagonally to the left hip. I have her on IV antibiotics and pain meds for the next twenty-four hours; after that I’ll be able to switch her to oral medication.”

“Can she eat or drink? If she wakes up hungry or thirsty…?”

“She’s allowed both solids and liquid. I suggest keeping meals small and light. Her system is in shock from the amount of injuries and the pain; anything too heavy could cause stomach upset. And preventing further discomfort is important at this time.”

“And how long will we have to stay here? When can I take her home?”

“Within a week, she should be able to move around quite freely and without much difficulty or pain. I wouldn’t suggest flying any sooner than that; the altitude would put pressure on the brain, and with the concussion, it could cause severe issues. Swelling, blood clots, aneurysms. It’s safer to wait seven days. After that, even when home, you’ll have to keep an eye on her; make sure she stays on top of her meds, and follows the rules when it comes to healing properly.”

“But she’s going to be okay? She’ll be back to normal? Eventually?”

“She’s young and healthy. There’s nothing to suggest she WON’T be back to normal. Just keep an eye out for anything that suggests trouble; severe headaches beyond what a concussion would provide, any unexplained swelling and redness anywhere on the body, a high fever, speech issues, or any loss of consciousness. If any of those happen, she has to be seen immediately. Wherever you are. Now…” Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow as he takes in the various bruises and cuts on Tyler’s neck and face. “...perhaps I should take a look at YOU now.”

“You don’t need to. I’m fine. I cleaned myself up. Fixed what I could. I don’t…”

“You should be looked at,” Nik gently persuades. “Esme wasn’t the only one in that accident. You’re pretty banged up. Just let the doctor take a look and…”

“I said I’m fine.” His voice stern. Harsher than it needs to be. “I’ve gone through a lot worse. And lived to tell about it. All I really need is some sleep.”

“If you have your own concussion or some internal damage or…”

Ignoring Nik, he once more addresses the doctor. “I’ll let you know if I start feeling worse. Right now, I’m just tired. I just need to rest. It’s been a hell of a long day. Thank you,” He offers his hand. “For taking care of her. If anything had have been seriously wrong…”

“She’s going to make a full recovery. And because of her good health and how she’s taken care of herself throughout her life, she’ll likely heal faster than most. Right now, rest and relaxation are her best friends. And keeping up with a med schedule. I’ve left my home and cell numbers on the nightstand in the bedroom; call if you have even the slightest bit of concern. I’ll be right over.”

Nodding in both appreciation and farewell, he turns on his heel to head for the bedroom next door.

“Tyler…wait…”

“Nik, not tonight. I’m not in the mood for this shit. I’m tired, and I’m sore, and I desperately need at least a few hours of sleep.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

“I don’t need to have the doctor look at me, and I sure as hell don’t need you getting on my ass. So if you're even thinking about bringing up me leaving when all this is over…”

“Actually, I WAS going to say that I had your things brought to the room. And that there are fresh towels and facecloths in the bathroom. I would have had one of the other guest suites made up, but I already knew you would argue with me; that you wouldn’t want to be away from her.”

“Despite how rough things have been…between us…I do appreciate it, Nik. Everything that you’ve done. Especially in the last few days. I don’t agree with what you did; not letting me know that Esme was alive and that I had a kid out there. And it’s going to take me a hell of a long time to get over it. I can’t pretend I’m not pissed off. That I’m not hurt. I can’t just turn all that off, you know? It isn’t something I can just forgive.”

“I couldn’t betray her trust. Not even for you. She relied on me; to keep her and Millie safe. And I…”

“Safe from who? Me? I wasn’t a threat to them. You didn’t need to protect them from me.”

“She wanted to protect you. She thought she was doing the right thing. And whether I agreed with that or not…”

“I’m not going to get into this right now. I just can’t do it. I’ve said everything I needed to say. Other than thank you. For taking care of her and Millie. Keeping them safe. You didn’t have to step up like that, but you did. And if it wasn’t for you, who knows where they’d be right now. Kinda scares me to even think about it.”

“I took care of them for YOU. Because I knew one day she’d track you down and you’d get that chance; to be a family and grow old together. I WANTED that for you, Tyler. I wanted you to get your ‘happy ever after.’ And I’ve never seen you as just a commodity. You’ve always been more than that. Much more.”

“I want to believe that, Nik. I do. But right now…”

“You’re hurt. You’re angry. And you’ve got every right to feel those things. I just hope one day you’ll realize what I did, I did for them and YOU. Try and get some rest. It’s been a long day. And Millie is going to have you up and bright and early, believe me.” “If it’s before the crack of dawn, I’m sending her to you.”

“Don’t even think about it. I plan on sleeping until noon.”

“You’re gonna up with the sun, and you know it. It’s just who you are. The way you’re made.”

“Try and relax, Tyler. It’s safe here. THEY’RE safe.”

“Sometimes that’s easier said than done.”

“In a week’s time, you’ll be back home. With your family. The chances of any threats finding you there…”

“There’s always a chance, Nik. You know that.”

“I’ll do what I can. When it comes to handling things in New York City. Making sure the trouble stays there. And once things settle down…for good…that’s it. You’re free.”

“Only if you’ll let me be.”

“It’ll be hard to let you go. We’ve been through a lot together. SEEN a lot.”

“You should know by now that you can’t get rid of me THAT easy. After all, you’re Auntie Nik, yeah? Something tells me Millie wouldn’t stand for you just up and disappearing.”

“She doesn’t have to worry about that. She’s my family. So is her mom. And so are you. Sleep well. You’ve earned it.”

Nodding in agreement and apprehension, he moves towards the guest room, hesitating as his fingers curl around the door handle, and just as Nik steps onto the top landing of the stairs. “Nik?”

She hesitates.

“Thank you.”

She manages a weary smile. “Goodnight, Tyler.”

*****

A long, hot shower makes him feel almost human again. Thirty minutes spent standing motionless under a punishing stream of hot water as it not only rid his hair and body of remaining remnants of debris and blood, but brought some relief to his lower back, base of his skull, and both shoulders. Afterwards in the light of the bathroom, he’s able to better assess the damage done to his body; various cuts and abrasions along both arms and legs, large bruises on the front and backs of his thighs and in the middle of his back, several smaller across his collarbone. A perfect impression of the steering wheel -and its emblem- covers the majority of his sternum, and the skin on the left side of his rib cage has begun to turn vivid, various shades of purple and blue. Far surpassing the damage done in Georgia and Vienna, even WITH the gunshot to his hand and to his lower left abdomen. The latter missing all vital organs and lodging near his hip; an easy removal for the medical team at the Graz-Karlau prison. Barely leaving a scar behind and requiring a very short rest and recovery time.

He navigates the bedroom by both the streaks of moonlight that spill through the window coverings and the glow given off by the portable ECG machine monitoring Esme’s vitals. Rummaging through the rucksack; he locates the lone pair of sweats he’d packed for his initial business trip; grimacing at the stiffness in his knees and discomfort in his back as he steps into them. The bed -more expansive than an average king- is more than large enough for both of them to sleep in, and for her to be kept safe from his tossing and turning; eager to spare her an errant elbow to the back or stomach or a knee into a thigh. And he creeps to her side, watching as she sleeps soundly; light, peaceful smile curving her lips’ with her face turned towards the window. The soft, silvery sheen the moon casts upon her face shows off the various cuts and bruises that she’d incurred earlier in the day; the vivid purple and blue upon her forehead, across the bridge of her nose, and on the tops of both cheeks and under one eye.

It’s painful to look at; the mere thought of her injured and in discomfort nearly splitting his heart in two. Hating his perceived negligence and failure to keep her safe had led her to this; hooked up to various wires and tubes from the IV and pain. Hurting far worse than he’d ever expected it to; believing that watching his son suffer and waste away had steeled him against witnessing someone experiencing pain and illness. But it aches to his very soul; twisting and wrenching at his guts and a sorrow -for someone who is still very much alive- creating a death grip around his heart. And emotion chokes at him as he crouches at the side of the bed; smoothing a hand over her hair and laying his palm on the top of her head, thumb repeatedly brushing across her brow.

“I’m so sorry, Me.” He grazes his knuckles over her bruised and swollen cheek. “I am so fucking sorry.”

She murmurs in her sleep, then releases a long, soft sigh as she nestles her cheek into his palm.

“And I’m sorry for being as angry and as hurt as I am. I know you did the best you could; that you left because you were scared, and you wanted to protect me. But you kept my daughter from me. When there was no reason to. And I don’t know how long it’s going to take me to get over that. If I ever really do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. Those five years changed nothing.” Leaning forward, he presses a lingering kiss to her brow, then to her lips. “You sleep, okay? ‘Cause that’s the only way you’re gonna get better. Because that’s what Millie needs; her mom back to normal. And I need that too.” He pulls back with a heavy sigh; running the tip of his index finger down the bridge of her nose. “This is all going to be over soon. I promise. There’s nothing for you to be scared of anymore. No one can hurt you now. And they won’t hurt you EVER again.”

His knees crack, and he bites back the pain as he stands. The limp in his right leg more pronounced as he retreats to his side of the bed, peeling back the layers of blankets and slides underneath. His body is sore and weary, and his head immediately sinks into the pillow; the case and the crisp, linen sheets cool and refreshing against his skin. He’s never experienced this level of exhaustion; not even during the months of tedious and often agonizing physical therapy sessions that had preceded his release from the hospital in Dubai. It’s a tiredness that is bone…SOUL…deep; both limbs and eyes feeling impossibly heavy, his own body seeming rooted to its place. And despite the years of frequent bouts of insomnia, it isn’t long before rest claims him. Lulled to sleep by the faint beeping of the EKG machine, Esme’s soft rhythmic breathing, and the rolling of the waves as they wash up onto the shore.

*****

He sleeps soundly despite the pain and only over-the-counter pills to dull it, stirring only once when the nurse crept into the room in the dead of the night to change Esme’s IV and med bag and then reset the pump. He remembers a brief, exhausted chat; the nurse apologizing for waking him, the exchange of pleasantries, and his peppering of questions in regards to Esme’s vitals and the continued care she’ll be receiving. Already back asleep before the woman even finished her duties and slipped from the room. When he finally wakes for the day, it’s courtesy of a tiny hand repeatedly -and remarkably vigorously- shaking him and a tiny voice calling his name. And cracking open his eyes, he moans in discomfort when he’s immediately greeted by the sun’s harsh rays, followed by Millie’s wide, beaming smile as she stands at the side of the bed. Clad in her pyjamas with her doll under one arm, teddy under the other; her high ponytail having loosened in her sleep and now sitting at an awkward angle on the side of her head.

“Hi!” she chirps. “Hi, daddy.”

“Hey…”

“Did you sleep good?”

“Better than I expected to. Is something wrong?”

“Nope.”

“You’re okay?”

Millie nods.

“What are you doing? What…?”

“I’m hungry. My tum is complaining.REALLY loud. I went downstairs and looked for Carmen, but I couldn’t find her. And there’s no brekkie waiting in the kitchen. Usually, she has brekkie finished and waiting for me.”

“Who’s Carmen?”

“Auntie Nik’s cook.”

“Auntie Nik has a cook?”

“And someone that shops for her, someone that books all her appointments, a chauffeur, and a maid.”

“What does she do? If she has all those people doing everything for her?”

“Wears nice clothes and kicks butt and takes names.”

“Is that what you’re going to be like? When you’re older?”

“I’m already like that.”

Chuckling, he reaches out to playfully tug on her ponytail. “So I guess this means I better get my ass up, yeah? Can’t exactly do stuff on your own.”

“I CAN make my own breakfast. Well, just cereal and toast, but still, I’m ONLY four, so that’s pretty good, right? That I can do that?”

“Your mumma’s been doing a damn good job, that’s for sure. Teaching you things.”

“She wants me to be strong and independent. But not grow up too fast. But one day, I’ll be able to make pancakes and scrambled eggs and bacon. Not just boring old cereal and toast.”

“Are you trying to tell me you want something else? More than that?”

She giggles as she drops her chin to her chest. “I’m REALLY hungry. I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo.”

Smirking, he tosses off his blankets. “Where did you learn that?”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give up my sources.”

“Well, you know what? I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, too. So why don’t we go downstairs and raid the fridge, and see what we can dig up. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.” She steps back as he slides out of bed, her brow furrowing as she studies her mother’s bruised and battered and sleeping form.. “ What about momma, though? She’ll be all by herself. She might get lonely. What if she wakes up and we’re not here? She might be scared. And sad. I don’t want her to be scared and sad.”

“IF she wakes up, she knows we’re not far away. That we wouldn’t just leave her. She knows how much we love her; that we’d never just take off on her. Besides, she’s going to be doing a lot of sleeping for the next few days.”

“‘Cause the doctor said so?”

“It’s the best thing for her. So that her body can get better. And that’s what we want, yeah? Mumma to be all better?”

The four-year-old nods.

“How ‘bout you tuck her in? She’d like that.”

Her face visibly brightens. “Like a momma burrito?”

“Something like that. Don’t do it as tight, though. And be careful; you don’t want to get tangled up in all those wires and tubes. Careful and gentle, okay?”

Handing him her doll, she scurries around to Esme’s side of the bed; slipping her body between the machine and the IV stand and gingerly stepping over or slipping under various tubing and wires. Carefully spreading and smoothing the blankets over her mom’s body, then loosely tucking them underneath her. And a distinct sadness darkens her eyes and furrows her brow when she runs a palm over Esme’s hair and leans in to press a kiss to her cheek.

“I miss you, momma. I love you. You’ll feel better soon. I promise. Daddy and I will take really good care of you! Right, dad?”

Nodding, Tyler leans down to drop a kiss on the top of her head when she scurries back to his side; plucking the doll from his grasp.

“I’mma leave Posie here,” Millie announces, then proceeds to lift the top blanket and tuck her under it. “So she can keep an eye on mumma! And if mumma wakes up, she’ll see Posie here and know that I’m coming back for sure. ‘Cause I never leave Posie behind. Not for good!”

“You know, you have a really big heart in that little body of yours.”

“Momma always used to tell me that I got that from my daddy. That his heart was way bigger than his body, too. Is that really true? ‘Cause your body is super big!”

“Is that a polite way of calling me fat?”

“You’re not fat! You’re thick!”

He smirks. “I wonder where I’ve heard that before.”

“You’re like a giant! You’re really tall and crazy big! Do you think it’s true? What momma said? About your heart being bigger than your body? Because if it is, your heart is super huge!”

“You know what I think? I think your mum’s the most amazing human being I’ve ever known.”

“Next to me, right?”

“Yeah…” Scooping her up onto his arms, he presses pressing a kiss to her temple as he settles her on his hip. “...definitely next to you.”

*****

He relaxes in a poolside lounge chair; hair damp and matted to his head, his aching and tired body clad in a pair of board shorts bought during an impromptu shopping excursion with Nik and Millie. The latter fast asleep against his chest; snoring lightly, her eyes shielded by a pair of pink and purple polka-dotted sunglasses, her bathing suit -one of many she’d excitedly picked out- beginning to dry in the heat. Exhausted from the morning and early afternoon activities and the drama of the last seven days; the time spent in the sun and water solidifying her successful escape from New York City. Content and relaxed; confident that her old life is now firmly behind her and the new one is just lingering on the horizon. And despite the worry and sadness revolving around her mother’s injuries, she feels safe and secure; putting all of her trust into her surroundings and the people around her.

Nik joins them, standing at the side of his chairs with her hands shoved in the pockets of a pair of wide-legged, burgundy linen trousers and a pair of oversized sunglasses. A smile curling her lips as she glances down at a snoozing Millie.

“Out like a light.”

“She’s had a hell of a week. It was bound to catch up to her.”

“She doesn’t do that with just anyone. Fall asleep on them like that. Means she feels safe. Secure. She trusts you.”

“I’m not sure she’s making the right decision. Look what her mum’s trust in me got her.”

“What I said on the plane…about what happened…I didn’t mean for it to sound like I was blaming you.”

“That’s exactly what you meant for it to sound like. I know you, Nik; I know you don’t say shit you don’t believe. And you’ve never been one to pull punches.”

“I wanted an explanation. A reason. For how things went so wrong, so quick.”

“And I told you. They came out of nowhere. There’s no way I could have seen it coming. It just happened. And it happened THAT fast.”

“You didn’t hear anything? See anything? You..?”

“I was concentrating on driving. On getting us to the meet-up point. We’d just gone through all that fucking bullshit with Winston..”

“Which was probably weighing heavily on your mind. Probably had you on edge. Distracted.”

“...and all I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there. Get to you and Yaz and then to the airport. I thought the roads were clear; Wick had people blocking all the intersections, and you had eyes on things. Or at least I THOUGHT you did. Had you not pulled the guys early…”

“I thought you were in the clear. You were only three blocks away. I made a decision based on that. I did what I thought was best.”

“So did I. I did what I thought was best for Esme. To get her the fuck out of there. I had just gotten her away from Winston; all I had to do was get her to the airport and on that plane, and everything else was going to be easy. I trusted you to have the people in place. To have my six. And if I DID let my guard down, it’s because of that. Nothing else.”

“I admit, it wasn’t my best decision. I should have left them in place longer. Until we actually DID meet up. But…”

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Nik. You’re beating a dead fucking horse. I’m tired, and I’m sore, and I’ve got a lot on my plate. I don’t need this, too. Can we just let it go? I think you fucked up, you think I fucked up. Can’t we leave it at that?”

“I think I deserve an explanation. Not as your friend. But as your boss.”

“And I’ve told you everything there is to know. There isn’t always an explanation or a reason, Nik. Sometimes, shit just happens. There’s nothing simple about this job. It’s not just black or white. And you of all people should know that. You…”

When Milliie whimpers in her sleep, his mood abruptly changes; the tension in his jaw and shoulders releasing, the brightness returning to his eyes. And he smooths a hand over her and down her back, his lips soft as they press against her brow. “It’s alright, Amelia. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

She heaves a long, content sigh, then nestles her face against his chest and shoves her thumb into her mouth. And for several minutes, he and Nik remain silent; his chin resting on the top of Millie’s head and his hand rubbing her back in smooth, slow circles.

Nik uses a fingertip to sweep wayward strands of hair off of the little one’s forehead. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is. Esme and I do good work.”

“You most definitely do. Although I’m not sure how much work Esme actually put in. I think her genes were completely absent that day. Millie looks just like you.”

“That’s an awful thing to say about my kid, Nik. That she looks like her old man.”

“You know how many times Esme has heard it? How many people think she’s just a nanny? No one ever believes they’re actually mother and daughter. Until Millie opens her mouth of course; she tells stories EXACTLY like her momma does.”

“All over the damn place.”

“The only two people I know who can go off in five different directions and never get back to what started everything off.”

“You know how many times Esme will start a story, only for me to never find out what the original point of it was? Too many to count.”

“It’s just part of who she is. That exuberance and that light that she’s managed to hold onto. I’ve never met anyone like her, you know. Not in this circle, anyway. I don’t know how she does it; holds onto that optimism and that brightness. Everything she’s been through…the things she’s seen and the things she’s done…all of that has been stacked against her. Yet she’s still…Esme.”

“She’s the strongest person I’ve ever known. How many people do you think would have stuck around on that bridge? For someone like me?”

“Not a lot.”

“Yet she did. For some reason. She wasn’t leaving me there. And she had every reason to, believe me.”

“She saw the potential. Things about you that no one else did. Or maybe you just never LET people see them. See YOU.”

“Maybe a bit of both.”

“Maybe…”

“Were you there? When she was born?”

Nik nods. “I was.”

He glances down at his daughter; taking a deep breath and then noisily clearing his throat. A vain attempt at pushing away the emotion that threatens to choke him.

"Tyler…”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being there. For Esme. I’m glad she wasn’t alone.”

“She asked me. If I’d be the one to go in with her. And regardless of what you think, I tried telling her; convincing her to call you and let you know you were going to be a dad. I told her there was nothing for her to be afraid of; you weren’t going to ignore her call or turn her away or question whether or not the baby was yours. That there was nothing she could ever do to make you hate her that much.”

“I didn’t hate her at all. I never did. I loved her. I never STOPPED loving her.”

“And that’s what I told her. That you loved her and missed her and were spending all your time looking for her. That if there was ever a time TO contact you, that was it; the baby was very close to being born, the nursery was done, and the name was picked out. I told her you would be on the next plane there; to be with her and see your daughter come into the world.”

“But…”

“She was scared. Of rejection. Because she loved you, and her heart couldn’t take it; if you wanted nothing to do with her or the baby. I told her that that would never happen, but…”

“She’s pretty damn stubborn.”

Nik nods.

“You know I never got to see that with my son, either? Him being born? I was in Iraq; on my second tour with SASR. We were located just outside of Mosul. Mia was pissed about it; she was already six months pregnant when I signed up to go, and she knew there was no way I’d be back in time. I tried to justify it; I was one of the commanding officers, and they needed all hands on deck. Now I realize it’s just who I was; I wasn’t capable of putting her first. And I probably never even should have tried being a family man. I just didn’t have it in me.”

“You were young. You’d already spent years devoting everything you had to the military. It becomes ingrained in you. The only thing that really matters. Believe me, I know.”

“Sometimes I wonder if I ever really wanted to be. A husband and a father. At least back then.”

“You were in love. And you wanted to make her happy. You were willing to do whatever it took to make that happen.”

“I was. In love. Or I thought I was, at least. Took me until I was thirty-five to figure out it wasn’t the real deal. I think I just settled. The same way Mia did. I wasn’t really her type; she’d always been into lawyers and politicians and businesses. I was just some guy in the army. I wasn’t anything special.”

“To her, you were.”

“Guess she just wanted something different. Someone a little more dangerous. Younger.”

“And you were there. Ready, willing, and able. And lonely.”

“I don’t know what I was. Stupid, for the most part. But I’d lived practically my entire life without a family; my mum was long dead, and I’d already cut my dad out of the picture. Mia was there. I liked being around her. Not that we actually spent a lot of time together, considering her career kept her busy, and I was always being shipped off to different places.”

“And then your son came along…”

“He just sort of happened. We didn’t plan on having kids. She wasn’t even sure she wanted any. I was just so caught up in thinking I was in love and had found my ‘happily ever after’ that I didn’t really give a shit if we had any or not. But things happened, and he came along, and I tried my best to be a good dad. We know how THAT turned out.”

“That one choice you made…that one mistake…doesn’t mean you were a terrible father. It doesn’t negate the good things, Tyler. Or the love you had…you STILL have…for your little boy.”

“It was a hell of a mistake, Nik.”

“Doesn’t change the fact you loved him. That you still do. Or that HE loved YOU.”

“I never thought I’d be a dad again. I had no plans to be one, that’s for sure. I’d already done that once, and it didn’t end well. And then Esme came along and everything changed. I changed. She made me want to be a different person. A BETTER person. She wasn’t like anyone else. I knew that right away.”

“I think she knew that same thing about you.”

“Once she stuck around after Dhaka, I knew that was it. That SHE was it. I don’t regret it, Nik. The way things happened. I know it was the wrong place and totally the wrong time, but I wouldn’t change it. I wouldn’t change a fucking second. I would take that bullet to my throat a hundred times if it meant I’d be with her.”

She blinks at his honesty.

“When we decided to get the house and started talking about getting married and having a family, I was terrified. Of being a husband and a dad again. I didn’t want to fuck it up. I’d already screwed over one wife; Mia deserved a lot better than I ever gave her. That’s when I told myself it would be different. That I’D be different. I’d be the man that Esme needed and wanted. That she deserved. I’d be a good dad. The one I never had. I would do everything right; I’d be there for my wife, and I’d put my family first, and I wouldn’t be a total fucking failure.”

“You were never a failure, Tyler. You…”

“I used to think about it. Esme being pregnant. Seeing her get bigger and bigger. Feeling the baby move. Making a nursery. Going to all the appointments. I was looking forward to it; going through all of that with her. I’d missed it all the first time, I wasn’t going to miss it again.”

“I know what you’re going to say. I know…”

“That was all taken from me. I never got the chance. I was ready and I was willing, and I was able, and it never happened. Sure, she got pregnant, and the baby came along. But I just didn’t get to know about it. I didn’t get to be part of it, did I.”

“Tyler…”

“I don’t hate you, Nik. Let’s get that out of the way. We’ve been through way too much together. Not to mention everything you did for me after Dhaka and everything you did for Esme and Millie. That you continue to do for them. I could never thank you enough; for keeping Esme safe and for making sure that she didn’t go through everything alone and that she and Millie were taken care of.”

“I don’t need your thanks. They’re my family. So are you.”

“Like I said, I don’t hate you. I might not like you very much right now…”

“And I deserve that. I know I do. But I don’t regret the choices I made. I don’t regret helping Esme or keeping her secrets. And I would do it all again. No questions asked. And I’m sorry if it hurts you to hear that. It was never personal, Tyler. I never did any of that to intentionally hurt you. And I DID try and convince her to contact you. Many times.”

“I really hope that’s true, Nik. That I don’t find out something completely different. Because that whole not hating you thing? That could change. I can’t make any promises.”

******

Nik settles on the lounge chair beside him, stretching out of her legs and setting her clasped hands on her stomach.

“It was a beautiful day.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow.

“When Millie was born. It was sunny and cool, and the leaves were just starting to change.”

“Seems kinda fitting. That she came along when she did. It was always her mum’s favourite season; Esme used to go on and on about fall in New York City. About how she’d always take walks in Central Park; she loved seeing all the different colours and hearing the leaves crunching under her feet and how the air actually seemed fresh for a change. She made it sound incredible. Beautiful.”

“She has a knack of seeing things differently than we do. She holds onto so much trust and wonder; she sees the beauty in everything. And everyone. She could watch the same sunset a million times and find a million different things to marvel at. I used to tease her about it; almost scold her for being that way. For always seeing the cup as ‘half full’. But now that I think about it, wouldn’t it be better if we all saw it that way?”

“She’s just different, Nik. From what we’re used to. We’ve all been through hell and back. In one way or another. And somehow she’s still like that. I used to give her shit for it, too. Always said she was setting herself up for disappointment if she kept seeing the world like she did. Seeing the good in everyone no matter how shitty they treated her. Even told her how stupid it all seemed; that she was being naive and childish and she was just going to get hurt.”

“If anything…anyone…is a breath of fresh air…”

“I realize now that if she didn’t see things the way she did? Millie wouldn’t even exist. Esme wouldn’t have stayed on that bridge. Dhaka wouldn’t have happened the way it did. The things that went down between the two of us. She wouldn’t even have given me a second look. She would have just seen me as a huge mess. A liability. And moved on with her life.”

“I know you talk about how she came along when you needed it the most, but have you ever thought that maybe you did too? That you came along when she needed you to? Because despite all that light and that brightness and that love for the world and everyone in it, there was a very broken and lonely woman…little girl, even…under all of it. I would see it sometimes; this sadness that would just take over. When she’d just seem so lost and vulnerable and hurting. That changed. When she met you. I saw it in that hospital. All that time she was holding on and fighting for you, she was holding on and fighting for herself too. She wanted to be what YOU needed. And what you deserved.”

“She is way more than I have ever deserved.”

”But she doesn’t see it that way. She doesn’t see YOU that way. You came along, and you pulled her out of a really dark, horrible place. And I know it’s hard to see that when you’re in a pretty bad place yourself, but it’s true. The two of you found each other when you both needed it the most. She didn’t just save YOU, Tyler. You saved her too. In more ways than one.”

Swallowing around the lump of emotion sitting square in his throat, his fingers moving through Millie’s damp hair as he nods slowly, considering Nik’s words.

“I know you probably have a lot of questions. About the last five years. About Millie. Maybe even about before she was born. If there’s anything you want to ask or know about it or I can help you understand better…”

“How was it? The pregnancy? Was it really hard on her? Were there any complications? I mean, I assume everything went okay, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, but…”

“It was pretty uneventful. There were no scares. No real health issues. Yaz and I got a place in the city. We wanted to be close by; to keep an eye on her, make sure she was taking care of herself and that she got everything she…and the baby…needed. She was never alone, Tyler. Not physically, anyway. We were there when she needed us. Maybe too much at times. I’m sure we annoyed her a lot. I know I can be pretty assertive and overwhelming at times. And Yaz…”

“He’s always had a hard-on for her. I don’t think her being pregnant changed that. Knowing that little freak, it probably made it even better in his mind.”

Nik laughs. “Yeah, maybe. But it’s been harmless. He’s always known he doesn’t stand a chance.”

“I mean, she has bad taste in men, but it’s not THAT bad.”

“He was so into things. He loved the idea of being an uncle. He was constantly buying Miillie things; always showing up with toys and outfits and things Esme could put away until she was older. And when we found out it was a girl? He got even worse. That kid was going to be the biggest, most spoiled princess on earth.”

“Esme knew? That it was going to be a girl?”

“She didn’t want to know at first. She was pretty adamant about waiting. Letting it be a surprise. But she ended up caving. At the very last ultrasound. And low and behold, baby Rake was a little girl. We always called Millie that. By your last name. It might not be that on paper, but we talked openly about it. You were always on her mind, Tyler. There wasn’t a day that went by where she didn’t think about you. TALK about you. You may not have been there, but to Esme, that baby was just as much yours as it was hers.”

“I would have been there. If she’d called me out of nowhere and told me about the baby, I would have gotten on the first flight out of Australia. Nothing…no one…could have stopped me from being there. Not you, not Winston, not The High Table. No one.”

“And she knew that. Which is why she was determined NOT to tell you. I’m not saying she made the right decision. Or that I agree with how she handled things. But it was not my place to tell you. Especially about Millie. I couldn’t betray her, Tyler. Not even for you.”

“As hurt as I am, as PISSED as I am, I’m just glad she wasn’t alone. That people were there for her. I fucking hate I didn’t get the chance, but it’s never really about me, has it? It’s about her and Millie. Especially Millie. Always has been. And that’s the way it should be.”

“Esme was having that baby no matter what. Not once did she ever think about not having her. Let alone talk about it. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy and she was lonely and sad and missed you every second of every day. Millie was part of you. Her only connection to you. And there was no way she was giving that up.”

“She’s always wanted to be a mum. She talked about it a lot. When we lived in The Kimberley. About coming close with Mark and having that taken away from her. I don’t think she ever got over that. And I knew one day it would happen; she and I would get our shit together, and we’d start a family. I didn’t think it would happen this way, mind you.”

“She never stopped thinking about you, Tyler. Loving you. She talked about you all the time. About wishing you could be there. So, please…PLEASE…don’t ever think she didn’t want you in her life. Or Millie’s life. Because nothing could be further from the truth. That baby was all she had. Aside from Yaz and I, Millie was her only connection to you. And no one could take that away from her. She wouldn’t let them.”

“Did she ever talk about me to Millie?”

“Maybe not by name. But even she was just a tiny baby. Millie heard stories about you. And all good, believe me. Esme has NEVER said a bad word about you to that little girl. And she always promised that she’d take Millie to meet you; that one day they’d go to Australia and track you down and let you meet each other.”

“Esme had chances. She’s had four years, Nik. She…”

“She had to be ready. She had to get over all that fear and worry she had. I couldn’t force her to just stop being that way. We’ve already established how stubborn she is. But I’d be honest with her; I’d tell her that she needed to contact you and you had the right to know you were a dad. That you deserved to be part of Millie’s life. But other than that, there wasn’t much I could do.”

“What about when Millie was old enough to start asking questions? What did she tell her then?”

“She would tell Millie that her dad was a good person. A big man with an even bigger heart. That he lived far away and one day, they’d go and visit him. And that she loved him very much. She always would.”

His voice quivers with emotion. “I don’t even know what to say. What IS there to say?”

“I know it hurts, Tyler. What Esme did. Having your child kept from you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling. But you need to know that it wasn’t done maliciously. It started with her wanting to protect you, then ended up being about wanting to protect herself.”

“From me? She didn’t need to protect herself from me. I’ve never been a threat to you. I have never hurt her. I’ve never raised my voice, let alone a hand to her. I never would. I’d kill myself if I ever got that way. If I ever laid even a finger on her in THAT way…”

“She was protecting her heart. She was scared, Tyler. That you’d turn her away. That you’d turn MILLIE away.”

“That would never…EVER…happen. No matter how pissed or hurt I was.”

“Rationally, she knew that. But fear…and love for that matter…don’t always have us thinking…or acting…rationally.”

Sighing, he glances down at Millie; running a fingertip down the bridge of her nose and then pressing a kiss to the tip.

“Would you like more?” Nik asks. “Kids?”

“I’d love more. I’d love to go through it all with her. I WANT that, That experience. With HER.”

“But…”

“But it’s kinda selfish, isn’t it? Wanting it for ME. She has to want it too.”

“I don’t think you need to worry about that. Something tells me she’s on the same page. She loves being a mom. And she’s good at it. Damn good.”

“She’s an amazing mum. I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kid.”

“You’re going to get your ‘normal’. Your ‘happily ever after’. It won’t be much longer now.”

He nods in agreement. “Thank you, Nik. For telling me all of this. I needed to hear it. Esme can say it all until she’s blue in the face, but hearing it from someone else?”

“It’s a different viewpoint. Coming from an outsider looking in. I just didn’t want you to think she never wanted you in her life, In Millie’s life. Because she did. She missed you, Tyler. Every second of every day. And believe me, I know she wishes she could change things. Go back in time and make different decisions.”

“I told her I wouldn’t want that. When you change one thing, you change everything. I believe that. And even if it were possible, I wouldn’t risk it. I wouldn’t risk a damn thing.”

Smiling, she reaches out and lays a hand on his shoulder, lightly squeezing. “It was never about her not loving you, Tyler. It was always about how much she DID.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Let me see, I write:

Tyler Rake

John Wick

Charon (John Wick)

Winston (John Wick)

Steve Abnesti (Spiderhead)

I have a decade old ff.net account under browneyedgirl75 that is all CSI and CSI related stuff

I have an old mibba page with RP fan fic (NHL and MLB). I believe my handle there is still @spankedbybautista but I could be wrong

So yeah, anon, you're wrong.

I've been writing since before you were a twinkle in your momma's eye.

I don't like u cos Ur intimidating and rude

Ur friends are nasty chickensarentcheap is a whore who only writes one character cos they can't come up with more themaradwrites is liar and skank and always whining wherethewitchersare is unfit to take care of senile people

U steal OCs as well and Austria is not far enough for me to feel safe from u

Are you ok anon??

[wartorne]

iv. i just bought o.liver wood’s wand on etsy somebody take my card away from me

[arrthurpendragon]

Hi!

I'm Sammie, and I write for the OC community. I originally started writing fan fiction MANY years ago over on another site. It was for the CSI:NY fandom and I absolutely loved it. Currently, I write for the Extraction/Tyler Rake fandom and have a series I've been working on for two and a half years now. I also have fairly rough drafts (handwritten in notebooks) for a Thor/OC fic and a Spiderhead/Steve Abnesti/OC fic.

[chickensarentcheap]

“I’m not jealous.”  Yet it is all steeped in jealous lol.   You know, I’m a very nice person. I’d help anon write a fic if that’s what they need.  But I’ve learned my lesson from that and been burned, so trust is a bit lacking. But still. I’d give it a go.

I do write other stuff. Steve and Maizie.

Look, no one is forcing you to read Tyler and Esme.  No one. No one is holding a gun to your head, hun.  I’m sorry if you wrote a fic and it wasn’t received well. But let me tell you something about Tyler Rake fans...the REAL ones...they like a well written and close to canon Tyler.   They don’t want a sex predator or a pedo or a psycho (where people saw him as a psycho I’ll never know).    They want what they saw in the movie. A deeply damaged and hurting man with layers that went beyond just being a mercenary.  Chris himself talked about how he portrayed Tyler and his emotions and his layers and I simply followed that movie and that and ran with it.  

Also, why should I write something else just because you demand it? LMAO.   Give me a freaking break.  

Why is Esme so ugly why is Esme so hideous why is Esme repulsive why is Esme so plain why does Esme look like a human armpit. It's not fair chickensarecheap gets so much attention because they happen to write a good story by the way. They should write something else. I'm not jealous by the way but it isn't fair

You sound like a whining child.

"I'm not jealous but it isn't fair" - yeah, that's jealousy.

Why don't you go focus on your writing and maybe you'll get positive attention for it too?

[darklydeliciousdesires]

🎢 Which of your fics would you call your wildest ride?

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

🤗 What advice would you give to new fanfic writers that are just getting started?

The wildest ride in recent years was Borne of Bullets and Bloodshed, my Tyler Rake/OC fic. That one took it out of me, detailing two addicts hellbent on destruction, and showing how they went from such messed up headcases to two people who were resolute that they could become more, become the people they were before life broke them when they were forced to change their ways. I had to include many layers of their personalities and how they all unpeeled during the journey they took together, and it was tough!

Favorite right now. MY MAYANS MEN! Loving writing them so much :D

Advice would be to always be willing to learn. If you write OC's, don't fall into the trap of writing yourself into the character either, because I did that, and I see others doing that, and while it is easy to do so, to write what you know, you need your character to be the extension of the story, and not an extension of yourself. It will open you up to greater risk taking, to different perspectives and challenges, to write from a different viewpoint than your own. Also, write about subjects that are out of your comfort zone, about things you don't know and aren't familiar with. Go on a little learning expedition before you begin, because you'll excite yourself as well as your reader with offering something a little different to the norm up to the plate, as it were, so explore those tropes!

Also, read, read, read and re-read what you write. Even people like me with years of experience still proof read to death (and then embarrassingly realise I've made a stupid spelling mistake that I didn't spot during the three proof reads I ran through, but this I put down to a mild case of dyslexia) prior to sharing. Make sure your work is polished, as this is enticing to your reader.

Ask for help, too! If you feel you're stuck with something, ask an author who you enjoy the works of to give you some advice. We all had to begin somewhere :)

Realise that you always will have room to improve. I feel like I'm improving all of the time, and I've been doing this for 20 years. I'm always learning, always growing. I'm far from perfect or the best at what I do. I'm just a woman who loves to tell a story, and hopes she does a fairly decent job of doing just that, but is always willing to see where she could make something better and challenge herself with every story that passes to make that happen!

Lastly, and perhaps the most importantly, never let negativity drag you down. Constructive criticism is one thing, but there are sadly some pockets of a few fandoms that have members within who are nothing more than little balls of toxicity. For example, telling you what you can and can't write, gatekeeping tropes and characters, shouting that you aren't allowed to put your own spin on a character and if you do, you're not being true to them. I mean yes, writing someone completely different to how they are on screen/in printed word is one thing, and those people doing such should probably not be writing fan fiction, but using your own interpretations based on what you see in said character, that's fine. That's using your imagination! I've faced such backlash in the past, luckily only very mildly and not enough to dent me as an author, but sadly I've witnessed others truly being raked over hot coals for it, and it's done what those doing the raking want; pushed people out of fandoms. This behaviour says more about the person doing it than it does you!

Okay, actually lastly... ENJOY IT! If you love what you do, it shows through your work! :)

[thiamfresh]

hi sweetheart, h r u? i don’t have many questions but i want to tell u smth. first of all sorry for my bad english it’s not my native language. secondly, i want to tell THANK YOU. tw is my fav show and i literally l o v e it. the next part is that i can’t explain WHAT does airplanes means to me. you know, i read it for several times every year since i was 14 and now i’m 18. i forced my online-friend to read it and she also like it. because she loves me, when we will meet, we are going to get tattoos with a paper airplane. because u don’t know how much does this mean to me, really. your fic really make me happy and help me. thank god for you. i was trying to find you in all social networks to tell you that. so, several questions.

1. do you think that one time you could write some new chapters with our boys? i miss them so badly

2. what do you think about lydia? few thinkings

Hey :)

So first, you never have to apologise for me for any mistakes you might make in your messages (this goes out to everyone).

Secondly AHHHHHH I'm so glad you like my fic but wow is it weird knowing that you've like..grown up with my fic 😄 I feel so old.

You're getting the tattoo? 😍😭 I'm never gonna be able to properly put into words how much it means to me whenever someone tells me that my fic helped them. I'm so glad that you and your friend like airplanes and your message has made my week. Thank you 🥰

Now onto your questions. I feel like maybe some got cut off so please send the rest if they did (I only got 2)

1. Im still (very slowly) working on the airplanes sequel. I've gotten myself stuck on the next chapter and although it's raking forever I do plan to finish these boys story eventually.

I really love how airplanes finishes and feel like it works well as an ending. But..honestly. I have their next like...6 years planned out and I plan to write at least the next two years as full fledged fics. After that I might just drop some oneshots here and there of the remaining 4 years but yeah. I'm fully invested in telling the rest of their story for those who aren't bored of my writing and their lives.

2. I love Lydia. She's been one of my favourite characters since I started watching and I even have a signed photo of Holland Roden in one of my draws from comic con just before season 3. (I also have one of Tyler H and let me tell you that man is just as gorgeous in person. It's been like 10 years and i still occasionally sob because I touched him.) But yes, Lydia, Queen. Pretty much every line of hers in season 1 has me screaming. I'm not a fan of stydia tho (was in the early seasons but by the time they actually got together it was a major nope from me)

Please enjoy these photos of me looking like trash next to two of the most beautiful people I've ever met

[mind-reader1]

The Twins of La Huerta (Ch.3)

A/N: This is a collaborative fic from myself, @bbaba-yagaa, @brightpinkpeppercorn and @roonarific. It is DIFFERENT than the one posted by @sceptilemasterr over the past few months. That being said, this story doesn’t strictly follow canon, it’s got crack-fic moments, serious moments, NSFW moments. A bit of everything and so we really hope you enjoy! Not for the faint of heart. (This is the last time this warning will be posted.) It’s also come to my attention some tags aren’t working, please let me know if that’s the case! 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,920

Catch up with Chapters 1 and 2 here!

Last Time: The group decides to celebrate having the hotel to themselves with a pool party. Estela and Tyler had a little heart to heart under the stars, and Taylor saw something strange in the jungle that Jake tried to help her forget. 

Chapter 3: Trails and Tails

She woke up the next morning, Jake was gone. Slipping into some clothes she found the group downstairs, chaos reigning. Raj had made everyone his famous 'hangover cure’ breakfast, no one had time to eat it though because Lila came in with big news, she had figured out what happened to the guests. They were at some emergency shelter, only no one knew where exactly that shelter was.

“I'm in.” Jake said, everyone looking at him confused.

“You said you were going to look for the shelter. I was supposed to be on a beach in Mexico by now, everyday I spend here is money lost.”

“Me too! I'd love to see the island.” Quinn giggled turning to Tyler who was looking for Estela. This kind of thing seemed right up her alley.

“Are you going to come Tyler?” She rested her hand gently on his arm, but he ignored her.

“Whaddya say Princess? Are you coming?” She could feel everyone's eyes on her, she couldn't stop thinking about the tiger, the way it stalked her in the bushes. Her hands were getting sweaty, Tyler watched her closely, worried about her.

“I...uh.” Jake grinned.

“It's okay if you're too scared. You can stay here with the rest of the goof troop.”

“We should stay Tay.” Tyler leaned over to whisper. She scowled at both of them, she wasn't some scared little kid.

“Wait! I'm coming.”

“Why?” Diego asked.

“Aren't you at least a little curious as to why no one came back from the shelter yet?”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean we need to go looking. It's horror movie 101, but I'll go just so I can say I told you so when something attacks us.”

“I’m going too then.” Tyler jumped up as the rest of the group was getting ready to leave.

“I think we've got enough Boy Scout.” Jake grinned.

“Tyler can protect me!” Quinn giggled grabbing his arm.

“Who are we to stand in the way of love Jake?” Taylor teased her brother. Strolling through the forest, Quinn began to admire the brightly colored flowers, they seemed to be glowing unnaturally. She leaned in to smell them while Jake took a step back, something about overhearing stories in the right dive bars and not trusting anyone after running secret government missions. Taylor took a step back from the flowers wary, Jake pulled her closer to him.

“Good call Princess.” His arm snaked around her waist as they walked together. Tyler's hands balled into fists as they walked, catching glances of Jake's hand sliding a little lower, as Diego grilled him about Estela.

“Oh no! This doesn't make any sense.” Lila frowned looking around.

“What doesn't make sense?” Taylor asked.

“The shelter should be right here according to the signs!” Aleister rolled his eyes annoyed.

“Great. The tour guide is lost. What do they even pay you for anyways?”

“Tactical scouting 101 kids. Get to high ground. See that rocky cliff over there? I'm checking it out.”

“Ooh that sounds like a waterfall nearby. I'll bet the shelter is near it.” Quinn piped up.

“I really think we should stick to the trail, the shelter should be just up ahead.” Everyone was bickering about why their idea was better and it was getting old.

“Why don't we split up!” Taylor suggested.

“I'm staying here on the trail.” Diego said, Aleister plopped down indicating that he wasn't going anywhere.

“Want to keep me company Princess?” Jake winked. Tyler jumped up to interject but didn't have time.

“That'd be fun.” They ran off and Tyler tried to chase after them, but Quinn stepped in his path smiling at him.

“Want to come with me? Keep me safe?” Quinn giggled. Tyler rolled his eyes and let her drag him off.

****

Jake deftly leaped and ducked as they combed through the forest to the mountain.

“You do this alot? Hiking through the forest that is. You seem pretty confident in the outdoors.” Jake turned to look back at Taylor and smiled, make sure she was keeping up.

“I grew up in a Louisiana town that was so rural it wasn't even on the map. When it comes down to it, the swamp and the jungle ain't so different.

“Probably less gators though.”

“Less gators, more jaguars, I'd call it even. How about you Princess? This your kinda scene?”

“I love the outdoors. Blue skies, fresh air, a soft sea breeze...it's perfect. I mean I should be more freaked out by...whatever that thing was I saw last night, but being out here? I can't help but feel happy,” she saw Jake watching her intently as she spoke a twinkle in his eye, “the company doesn't hurt either.” She winked but Jake had turned away and didn't seem to hear her.

“That why you come with? Wanted a nature hike?”

“It’s not a nature hike unless we're au natural. I came for the company.” Taylor tried again and this time he heard her.

“Oh!” She could tell she caught him off guard.

“You're not like the others here Jake. You're confident and capable, and you seem like you know what you're doing. I don't know what it is, but...I want to be near you. I feel safe with you, is that weird?”

“Naw, not weird. Just classic Princess.”

“Are you ever gonna use my real name?” She playfully crossed her arms.

“Only when you've earned it.” He winked.

“And how do I do that Top Gun?” They emerged at the base of the cliff they needed to climb.

“Well how's your rock climbing?”

“Let's find out.” She sauntered off in front of him, shaking her hips, knowing that Jake was watching her. They began climbing the cliff using small handholds to pull themselves up. Breathing hard, Jake crested the cliff first, Taylor just about to follow when the rock she had hold of crumbled beneath her grip.

“Ahh!” She grabbed the edge of the cliff, before Jake could even react she was pulling herself up.

“Nice moves Princess.” Jake walked over and looked out over the forest, it was an incredible view. The forest went on for miles in different shades of green, blue water just barely visible on the horizon. She sidled up beside him, but he wasn't paying any attention to her, so she decided to have some fun. She peeled her shirt off.

“It's soooo hot.” She fanned herself and Jake turned around, his eyes widening as they raked over her body with desire.

“This place never stops taking my breath away.”

“It's one hell of a sight.” Jake grinned and forced himself to look away.

“Hey Top Gun, that look like a shelter to you?” She pointed out to a small grey building by the river.

“Hot damn Taylor, nice eye.”

“So, I earned it?” She grinned.

“Don't get ahead of yourself Princess. Maybe before I leave we can go on another climb.” There was a genuineness to his voice that made Taylor smile.

“I'd like that.”

“Let's get back to the others.”

****

Tyler and Quinn walked in silence until she turned to him.

“Thanks for coming with me.” She grabbed his arm and smiled at him.

“I just wanted some space from Jake…” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.

“Not your favorite person?”

“No. He made me feel dumb earlier… calling me Pippi Longstocking and throwing pumpkin spice lattes in my face. He has me pinned as a spoiled, sheltered college student which isn't true at all. I just wanted to enjoy the flowers! This is my first time ever enjoying the outdoors, I didn't have a normal childhood.” Tyler did feel bad for Quinn, Jake's comment had been harsh and demeaning, he didn't know what his sister saw in that low life.

“Yeah, that was pretty messed up. I'm sorry he said that to you, I don't think you're dumb.”

“Thanks,” she giggled, “is this your kind of vacation?” Tyler nodded.

“I really enjoy the outdoors, everything about it. It's just... peaceful.”

“Maybe Jake just doesn't understand that. He seems like he's seen some scary stuff.” They heard the sound of rushing water getting closer.

“I just think he's a dick. Don't worry about what he thinks Quinn.” She smiled just as they emerged through the trees and into a beautiful lagoon with a waterfall. Quinn quickly peeled off her clothes, wading into the water. Tyler hung back on the beach, a pang in his chest, he wished that he was here with Estela. They could be bitching about Jake, maybe swimming together, he could finally disarm her of the stupid pencil. He snickered to himself and hung his head between his knees as he sat in the sand. He was pining for a girl who threatened to kill him with a dull pencil, not once but twice, and told him to stay away. There was just something about her that drew him in, like a moth to the flame.

“Tyler come swimming!” He sighed and peeled his shirt off headed towards the water when a glint caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up and it was a pirate doubloon.

“What'd you find?” Quinn wadded out of the water, resigning herself to the fact that she wasn't going to convince him to go swimming. He showed her the piece of pirate gold and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Do you think it's real?” Tyler shrugged.

“We've seen lots of crazy stuff on this island. Wouldn't surprise me much.” he snatched it back and stuck it in his pocket, Quinn frowned.

“I guess we should go back then.” Tyler nodded and started the trek back.

****

Jake and Taylor had found the shelter, it was a short walk from the where everyone had split up, off the path.

“Why are we celebrating? Is this place not giving anyone else 28 Days Later vibes?”

“Shelters are made to keep you safe, not look pretty. C'mon.” Jake led the way into the dilapidated shelter only to find it was empty and worn down on the inside as well.

“Maybe pop culture Petey was right. This place is giving me the creeps.”

“I don't like this Tay.” Tyler appeared at her side.

“Anyone else want to go back to the jungle with pretty flowers? Anybody?” Quinn's voice was shaky.

“Lots of muddy shoe prints. They seem recent, someone was here.” Jake knelt down. Tyler uneasy feeling began to grow.

“Tay. We should get out of here.” He grabbed her arm.

“I'm not leaving our friends Tyler!” everyone jumped as they heard a skittering noise, like rats, but it was something much larger. They followed the source of the noise to a large black hole where the concrete wall had collapsed, the flowers from outside growing out of it.

“I think it came from in there.” Diego pointed. Tyler took a deep breath and stepped up to look.

“Something's definitely alive in there.” before anyone could process, a small figure came bounding out of the darkness. It was a small, blue, fox looking creature, ice clinging to the wall behind it. It seemed afraid, no one knew why until they heard the low, deep growl behind them. Turning they came face to face with the creature Taylor had seen the night before.

“Jake! What do we do?” Taylor looked at him and it was the first time she had ever seen him look scared, he grabbed her hand, she grabbed Tyler's with her other one. 

Perma-Tag:  @brightpinkpeppercorn @sleepwalkingelite @ooo-barff-ooo @endlessly-searching-for-you @agent-bossypants @roonarific @likethetailofacomet @zaffrenotes @mysteli @vickypoochoices @kayann93 @jlouise88 @zigortega4life @findingdrake @bbaba-yagaa

Jake Tag:  @endlesstaylormckenzie @sophie-summer  @darley1101 @emomoustache​ @xo-endlessmayhem-xo​

Twin Tag:  @sceptilemasterr @queerchoicesblog

[freakrenaissance]

So excited for a new reason to love him! 🥰

To read 📚

Hey Char, I know your thing is for Thor, but would you write any other Hemsworth characters? I just re-watched Extraction and it's such a "netflix" movie if you know what I mean, but this time I felt things for Tyler Rake, like, dude really needs a hug

A/N: Tyler Rake x F!Reader. I gave these lovahs a super soldier backstory because straight up he would not have survived that bullet wound. Smut on a table. Idiots in love.

It’s not that he doesn’t love her. It’s that he does. 

You can’t have two mercenaries together. It’s suicide. It’s a target. But he comes back to her. Every. Fucking. Time. 

He staggers through her door with blood painting his face or sheeting down his thigh and she puts him back together. Sometimes it’s her who comes to him. She finds him like she’s got a piece of herself inside him. A North Star. A bit of telepathy. She falls into him - lips quivering around some half-hearted description of whatever injury she has. She’s inhaled toxic fumes or gotten a stab to the gut that should have killed her, but didn’t. He attends to her. He attends to her in all sorts of ways.

No matter the wound, they live.

It’s because of who they are. What they’re made of. 

Keep reading

[ohfrickfanfic]

Spooky Jim (Halloween Special)

I got an anon ask to include the pet name Kitten in a fic and it just worked so perfect for this. Hope you like it!

Pairings: Josh x Reader

Warnings/tags: Public sex, Kitten pet name, light daddy kink

The door bells rings just as you finish sliding up your sheer black, thigh-high stockings, pinching the ruffles at the top and perfectly fanning them out just below the hem of your black mini skirt. You adjust your tail one more time, checking it in the mirror and then grab your cat ears, adorning your head with them just as the doorbell rings again.

“I’m coming!!!” you shout, grabbing your purse on the way to the door to greet Josh, Tyler, and Jenna. The four of you are going on a double date to a haunted corn maze. You quickly slip on your black platform heels and fuss with your hair for a brief second in the mirror near the door before opening it.

“Meooow-CH!” Tyler catcalls, interrupted by an elbow to the ribs from his wife.

“Jeez, she looks good, sorry,” he apologizes, motioning to you with one hand as he rubs his side with the other. “Don’t worry baby, you look good too, my sexy little donut,” he smirks, trailing his fingertips along the exposed flesh of Jenna’s stomach through the donut hole opening of her costume, and pulling her in for a kiss.

“Mmmmm, baby. Damn! Ty’s right, you do look good,” Josh says, raking his teeth over his bottom lip and reaching out a hand to offer you help down the few steps of your front porch. “You gonna be able to walk in those things?” he questions.

“Don’t worry, I’m an expert,” you laugh as you make your way down the stairs. “I’m more concerned with you and Tyler’s lack of costumes.”

“I’m dressed,” Tyler says, dramatically motioning to the white printed letters on his shirt that read ‘This is my costume’, causing you to let out a chuckle.

“Oh yeah? And what about you?” you ask turning to Josh, who then reaches atop his head of tousled red locks pulling down a generic serial killer looking mask over his face. “What are you even supposed to be?” you sneer.

“I dunno, just call me Spooky Jim, I guess,” he mumbles behind the cheap, foam mask before sliding it back up onto his head.

“You’re such a dork, Joshua William Dun,” you say, shoving him playfully.

“Hey, no one pushes Spooky Jim like that and lives to tell about it,” he teases, running up behind you and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Eeeehhhhhhh!” You let out a high-pitched scream as your hands fly to the back of your skirt, trying to hide the fact that you purposely neglected to put on panties under your costume. “Joshua! Put me down!” you beg while laughing frantically.

“Sorry, I don’t know who this Joshua is?” he teases, spinning you around.

“Seriously, Josh, put me down!” you shriek between bouts of laughter.

“Not until you call me Spooky,” he teases.

“Fine. Spooky, put me down!” you answer quickly, your hands still clasped desperately over your ass.

“Please?” he taunts.

“Please, Spooky, put me down!” you repeat politely this time.

“Much better, Kitten,” Josh says, returning you to your feet.

There are many names Josh often calls you: Princess, Babygirl, Doll, the list goes on and on, but Kitten was never among them. You’re sure it’s just an innocent reference to your costume, but the word travels directly to your core nonetheless, causing you to squeeze your thighs together the entire ride to the cornfield.

“Are you okay?” Josh asks as Tyler pulls into a parking space, taking notice of how quiet, yet fidgety you’ve been on the way there.

“I’m fine Daddy, or shall I say, Spooky?” you whisper in his ear, only loud enough for him to hear, as he assists you out of the car.

“Mmmm,” He groans softly in response, a smirk spreading across his lips as you head to the ticket counter.

“Why’d you girls make us come here?” Tyler whines, gripping onto Jenna as the four of you enter the corn maze; the ambiance  of cackling witches, groaning zombies, chainsaws, and other sinister noises filling the cool autumn air.

“Oh, you’re fine,” Jenna says, stifling a laugh as she strokes Tyler’s brunette locks.

“But you know I hate this st-UFFF!” He screams like a girl, burying his face in Jenna’s chest as a clown pops out of the corn stalks. You jump back, more startled by Tyler’s screams than the clown, your backside pressing against Josh.

“Don’t worry, kitten, Spooky’s got you,” he teases in your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind as you walk, the name once again making you weak and causing you to push back against him harder. You reach behind you, grasping the back of Josh’s neck and tilt your chin up to whisper to him.

“Is that my tail, or are you happy to see me?” you joke, wiggling your ass against the bulge.

“A little of both,” he smirks, his hand leaving your waist to trail up your inner thigh, as you fall behind Tyler and Jenna. His fingers are painfully close to where you both want them when Tyler lets out another scream, causing you to push Josh’s hand away for fear of getting caught. Josh groans in protest.

“Hey, why don’t we split into teams and see which couple can find their way out first?” he proposes, his idea drenched in ulterior motives.

“Whatever gets us out of here faster,” Tyler whines, just as you approach a fork in the path of the cornfield.

“Perfect!” Josh says, motioning to the split path, “We’ll go left, you and Jenna go right.”

“Later, losers!” Jenna teases as she and Tyler turn right, down the path.

Josh pulls you quickly down the path, blowing past all the ghosts, goblins, and ghouls, completely unfazed as he frantically searches for a secluded spot to have his way with you. The over-sized stuffed scarecrow overlooking the field catches his eye and sparks an idea. Stepping into the field and off the carved path, he pulls you behind him as he makes his way towards the large scarecrow, corn husks scrapping against your skin as you go.

“Josh where are…”

“Here!” he answers, cutting you off, motioning to the numerous hay bales propped on either side of the large stake that’s supporting the scarecrow above you. Josh doesn’t waste time, pushing you down on one and quickly pulling his hard, aching cock from his black skinny jeans, and sliding your skirt up higher around your waist.

“Mmmm, no panties? Naughty little kitten.” Josh teases as he nips at your neck.

“That’s why I was yelling at you to put me down, Joshua,” you whine, craning your neck to allow him better access.

“I thought I made it clear that I don’t know who Joshua is tonight,” he breathes against your skin as he teases your entrance with the tip of his length. “Mmmmm, so wet already. I think someone likes the name Kitten, don’t they… Kitten?” he repeats the name again, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth.

“Yes, fuck me, Spooky,” you whine, writhing under him and lifting up your hips from the scratchy bales of hay, desperate to get him inside of you. With a quick roll of his hips he ends his teasing, filling you with his length. Your moans drown out by the various other sounds of the night.

The breezy October air hardens your nipples instantly as Josh pulls your breasts from your low-cut top, running his thumbs over the sensitive buds in a pinching motion as he fucks you. You wrap your legs around him, your heels digging into the flesh of his backside as you pull him in deeper. Claw marks punctuated by crescent-shaped indentations decorate his skin as you grip onto his neck while he repeatedly hits your spot.

“Uhhh, fuck, I love when my little Kitten scratches me all up, marking her territory like that,” Josh mumbles against your flesh between making marks of his own. A familiar feeling begins to build in the depths of your abdomen as your moans grow louder.

“You close, Kitten?” Josh asks while he thrusts, pressing his dewy forehead to yours and looking into your eyes.

“Yeah, fuck, I’m gonna c-cum.” Your voice cracks as your orgasm hits. You raise and lower your hips in rhythm with Josh’s thrusts as you ride it out. He quickens his pace, pounding into your sloppy wetness until he achieves his own release moments later, filling you up.

You exchange breaths, your foreheads still pressed together as you both come down from your highs. He pulls out of you and zips himself back into skinny jeans as you slide your skirt back into position before heading back the way you came.

Stepping out of the corn and back onto the path, you begin brushing yourself off and picking stray pieces of hay from your hair when you hear a familiar voice.

“There you two are. We already found our way out,” Jenna says.

“Yeah but Jenna made us come back in to find you guys, but uhhh… now I can see what was taking so long,” Tyler winces, pointing at Josh’s neck. “You should really think about having that cat declawed,” He says in his usual, sassy, Tyler tone.

“I thought I heard moaning coming from the cornfield, but Tyler insisted it was the Zombies coming to eat his brains,” Jenna laughs. “Come on guys, we’ll show you the way out.”

“I’m gonna drop you off at the cat’s house,” Tyler says sarcastically to Josh as you make your way back to the car. “You’re not the only one getting some tonight. I prefer my donuts cream-filled,” he laughs, landing a hearty smack on Jenna’s ass.

[chickensarentcheap]

It's Ficback Friday!

@bardic-tales

I thought I would take it back right to the story that started the Tyler and Esme series off. Originally I had lofty plans for this fic, including flashbacks to how they met, situations from the first Extraction film, but I changed my mind in the middle of the things and rushed through finishing the story. I regret it to this day. I also was supposed to kill Esme off at the end of it, but....

I also started working on the fic before the movie was even released. All we knew at that time was Tyler's name, his bitching haircut and tattoos, and that he was a mercenary with booze and pain med addictions. So i just sort of went what the image of the character and and what little info we were given and rolled with it.

It's not my best work. It's rough and unpolished. But it marked my return to writing after a TEN YEAR hiatus.

So here it is, my baby. The beginning of it all:

[chocolatequeennk]

To Bring Them Home, 4/6

Losing Rose only a month after they bonded hurt more than the Doctor could have imagined. Then he discovered he’d lost more than he’d realised, and he was determined to bring them home–Rose and their unborn baby. But how could he do that, without two universes collapsing?

Ten x Rose, pregnancy fic

In which we discover why this fic is tagged Nine/Rose on the archives...

This story is part of The Course of True Love, following With This Ring.

This was written for the Doomsday month prompts on @legendslikestardust​ and @doctorroseprompts​, and the drabble prompt “undone.” 

Betaed by @lastbluetardis​.

AO3 | FF.NET | TSP | Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3

The Doctor’s hearts raced with desperate hope as he strode through the TARDIS to the library. “The answer has to be here somewhere,” he muttered to himself as he sat down at his desk, piled high with books on trans-dimensional travel. He’d read them all in the months since losing Rose, but hopefully a second (or thirtieth or fortieth) look would yield better results.

He raked his hand through his hair as he opened the first volume. “Not hopefully,” he corrected. “I will find the answer. Because I’m not leaving Rose to go through an alien pregnancy without knowing what to expect, and I won’t leave my child to grow up without a father.”

The Doctor flipped through the book quickly, his eyes darting back and forth over every page, scouring the text for the single line that would tell him how to bring Rose home. He scowled when he read each warning against attempting trans-dimensional travel alone, and when he got to the end of the book without learning anything new, he tossed it on the floor and picked up the next one.

And that was his life for the next two weeks. Reading, studying, rereading, and cursing the authors who insisted he couldn’t go through the Void on his own. He only left the library to use the toilet, typically stopping by the galley to make a sandwich on his way back.

When his eyes were too tired and gritty to continue reading, he would move the short distance from the desk to the couch and collapse into an exhausted slumber for a few hours. His tie had been discarded on the second day and his oxford was half-untucked from his trousers. A scratchy layer of stubble covered his face, but he refused to break from his pattern of reading, eating, and sleeping. There would be time for rest when Rose came home.

His mood worsened as the pile of rejected books on the floor grew, and when the last book offered no magical solution, he slammed it shut and threw it across the room. It hit the wall next to the fireplace with a satisfying thunk, then fell on the floor.

The Doctor shoved back from his desk and rubbed at his weary eyes. Two weeks of work, dozens of books, and nothing—not even a hint of how he might manage to break the laws of physics and travel through the Void on his own. He didn’t have a way to bring Rose and their baby home.

He sat up straight as a stray thought crept into his mind. Unless…

The Doctor leapt to his feet and paced in front of the fireplace, ignoring the book lying on the floor, pages fanned out. He knew where he could find a gap big enough to take the TARDIS across the Void—or more specifically, he knew when he could find a gap.

All he had to do was pilot his ship back to a time before Canary Wharf, go through the Void, and hop forward to just after Rose fell. Then, once she was on the TARDIS, they could go back far enough to be able to make it safely through the Void again.

He pressed his tongue to the back of his teeth as he considered the plan. Strictly speaking, he would be crossing his own timeline. But as long as he didn’t show up at the Pete’s World Torchwood while his past self was there with Jake and Pete, he reckoned it would be all right. Safe enough, anyway—safer than Rose would be if he left her there alone.

His vision greyed out for a moment when he sensed the impending paradox. If he picked Rose up before she even found out she was pregnant, then she wouldn’t be in Pete’s World for him to talk to, and he wouldn’t realise she was pregnant and decide to find a way to go through and bring them home.

The Doctor grabbed onto the mantel until his vision cleared, then spun away from the fireplace. “I don’t care what the universe says,” he growled as he stalked out of the library. “I’m the Doctor, the last of the Time Lords, and I am not leaving Rose and our baby on their own in a parallel universe. It’s taken me all these years to realise the laws of time are mine, and they will obey me!”

The TARDIS rocked in the temporal turbulence as timelines swirled and broke around her, but the Doctor didn’t sway from his decision. An exhilarating sensation of power and control swept over him as he strode through the corridors. This was what he was always meant to be—the Time Lord Victorious, ruler and arbiter of Time itself.

The Doctor was abruptly aware that the TARDIS had been leading him in circles, instead of letting him get to the console room. “Oh no you don’t,” he growled, slapping his hand on the coral wall. “I’ve served Time my whole life, and now Time can serve me.”

The corridor didn’t shift.

“Let me out of here!” the Doctor roared. He shook his fists at the ceiling. “I’m going to get Rose back, and I don’t care what you think about it.”

The TARDIS remained implacable, but the sympathetic note in her hum created the first fissure in the Doctor’s defiance.

“I have to… I need…” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard before shouting, “Rose needs me!”

The air in front of him flickered, and then a projection of Rose appeared out of thin air. The Doctor stumbled back, his hearts seizing when he saw her image.

“This is Bad Wolf Programme One,” she said clearly. “The TARDIS and I decided to call them that because I’m leaving these messages to keep you safe, my Doctor.”

When Rose smiled and pushed her hair back over her ear, the Doctor saw her ring sparkling on her finger. A sob caught in his throat when he realised she’d taken time out of their honeymoon to leave these messages for him. Knowing that even in the middle of their happiest time, she’d loved him enough to prepare for his deepest sorrow made him miss her more than he already did.

Rose’s eyes softened and she looked directly at him. “I don’t know what has happened to take me from you. I don’t know how long we had, but if you’re listening to this message, I suspect it isn’t as long as we should have had. I’m sorry, love. I’m so sorry I couldn’t stay with you for my forever, like I promised.”

In the Doctor’s mind, his end of the broken blond clamoured to connect with his mate. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to resist the instinct to dive into Rose’s mind. She wasn’t really there, and the failed attempt would only make the ache worse.

His efforts distracted him from her words, and when he paid attention again, she had a smirk on her face. “And I bet you’re fussing and moaning now—typical.”

The Doctor laughed weakly.

“The TARDIS has activated this message because you’re planning something dangerous in an attempt to get me back. You can’t do it, Doctor.” She shook her head. “I know you miss me, and I know that wherever I am, I miss you, too. But you have to be careful, and you have to be safe.”

Her voice broke, and the Doctor wished he could brush away the tears gathering in her eyes. “I broke the laws of time once to get back someone I love, and my punishment was to see you be taken by Reapers. Don’t make me watch that again, Doctor—please.”

The raw pleading in her voice cut through the Doctor’s madness. Breaking the laws of time as he’d planned would almost certainly have triggered another visit from the Reapers. And this time, there wouldn’t have been a Pete Tyler who could step in and cauterise the wound by dying in his place.

Two lonely tears tracked down Rose’s face, and she wiped them away and cleared her throat. “I want you safe, my Doctor,” she repeated. “Protected even from yourself.”

Even though he hated what she was telling him, the Doctor felt a spark of happiness at her words, too. He’d forgotten how well Rose knew him, and how loved that made him feel.

“I love you, Doctor,” she said, as if she’d managed to read his mind, even from months in the past. “Never forget that.” She smiled sadly at him, then the image flickered and disappeared.

“No,” the Doctor moaned. He stretched his arm out, but Rose wasn’t there—she’d never been there. How many times will I have to watch her vanish in front of me? His throat closed up, and he turned slowly from the spot where he’d seen her hologram and walked away.

The TARDIS buzzed in the back of his head, and he wasn’t surprised when a door appeared—a very familiar door. The Doctor took a deep breath, and for the first time in four months, he entered the bedroom he’d shared with Rose.

Everything was exactly as they had left it. Looking at the bed, covers tidied but still obviously slept in, the Doctor remembered waking up that morning with Rose in his arms. Her happiness as she awakened had blended with his own until the sheer joy of the moment had taken his breath away.

Unshed tears burned in his eyes, but he refused to turn away from the memories. As he undressed, he remembered soft kisses slowly becoming passionate, the way Rose had rolled onto her back and urged him to move on top of her, her cries as they’d made love.

His hands stilled on his zip. Was that when their baby had been conceived? Rose couldn’t have been pregnant for more than a few days before she was taken from him—he would have detected the change in her hormones as soon as the embryo was successfully implanted in her uterus.

He bit his lip and forced the thought aside. All that really mattered was that a child had been created out of their love. A child who was now trapped in a parallel universe with Rose.

The Doctor’s breathing grew ragged as he finally tumbled onto the bed. Rose’s scent surrounded him, and he reached for her pillow, wrapping his arms around it and letting his tears fall. He was tired enough and his mind missed Rose enough that he could almost imagine her hands running through his hair, soothing him as he wept. Imagined or not, the sensation relaxed him, and he soon fell asleep.

oOoOoOoOo

Rose leaned back in her office chair and rubbed at her forehead, in between her eyes. She’d been staring at the report on the dimension hoppers for hours. Torchwood’s habit of appropriating tech they didn’t understand had made the dimension cannon project a nightmare. They had the hoppers, but no one actually knew how they worked—and until they figured that out, they couldn’t build on the design.

She glanced out at London, wincing when she realised it was dark enough that the sun must have set hours ago. Oh, Mum won’t be happy. Jackie had been complaining about the long hours Rose was working, claiming it wasn’t good for the baby.

As if they could sense the direction her thoughts were going, the baby shifted and kicked slightly. Rose chuckled and rested her hand on her belly. You’re made of stronger stuff than that, aren’t you little one? She rubbed a circle over her stomach, and the baby’s movements slowed. You’ve got stardust in your veins, don’t you? We just need to find your daddy so we can be out there in the stars like we’re supposed to be.

Rose felt something in her temple a moment later. She would have dismissed it, except it didn’t feel like the same twinge of pain that still lingered from the broken bond. This was more like… like the jolt you got from a mild electrical current.

It wasn’t a new sensation, and Rose furrowed her brows as she tried to remember when she’d felt it before. It happened again, just as she landed on the memory, and she gasped in amazement.

The baby was attempting telepathic contact.

Rose closed her eyes and reached out for the fledgling telepathic mind that had connected with her own. Are you there? She held her breath, and a moment later, the baby’s mind hesitantly brushed against her own.

Tears rolled unchecked down Rose’s cheeks as she cradled her child’s mind to her for the first time. The baby couldn’t communicate in words, but Rose could feel a question as the infant mind continued reaching. Her heart ached when she realised what the baby was looking for—or rather, who they were looking for.

Your daddy isn’t here, little one, she explained. But as soon as we can, we’re going to find our way home to him.

Rose remembered a moment standing at the door of the TARDIS with the Doctor as they floated in space. They were on the edge of a nebula, and the light had spun around them.

That’s where we belong, sweetheart, she told her child. And we’ll be back there one day, I promise.

oOoOoOoOo

“But I’ve seen it in comics,” Mickey protested. “People go hopping from one alternative world to another. It’s easy.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “Not in the real world.”

He sighed and leaned back against one of the TARDIS struts. “It used to be easy,” he admitted. “When the Time Lords kept their eye on everything, you could hop between realities, home in time for tea. Then they died, and took it all with them. The walls of reality closed; the worlds were sealed. Everything became that bit less kind.”

The Doctor burrowed closer to Rose’s pillow as he woke up, silently cursing his subconscious. He really hadn’t needed the reminder that it was his own fault he couldn’t bring Rose home. If he hadn’t killed them all…

He groaned and tossed the covers back, then got out of bed and shuffled into the ensuite. Now that he was rested, he couldn’t stand the dirty, itchy feeling of not having bathed in weeks. He grimaced at his reflection—had he really been planning to go get Rose looking like that?

You were a little mad, he told himself as he climbed into the shower.

The hot water stimulated his brain cells, and his mind went back to the conversation he’d dreamed about. He’d always known, really, that there was no way to safely break through the Void. He’d known a year ago when he told Mickey it was impossible, he’d known months ago when Rose had disappeared with Pete to the parallel universe, and he’d known two weeks ago when he’d realised she was pregnant.

That was it, then, he realised as he scrubbed his body clean. Unless he could find another member of a pan-dimensional species who could hold a wormhole through the Void open on this end while he went through to Rose… but as far as he knew, he was the last pan-dimensional being left in this universe.

There used to be dozens of pan-dimensional species, along with the Time Lords. But they had all been wiped out by the Time War, or they had left the prime universe to take refuge in other parallel universes and had never returned. With the Time Lords gone, that left only him.

The Doctor froze in the middle of shampooing his hair, only moving when suds started dripping into his eyes. He shifted back under the water, and his mind raced as he rinsed the shampoo down the drain.

Only him, but he wasn’t only him, was he?

For the first time in months, real hope burned in his hearts. It was a crazy idea, and would certainly bend the rules regarding crossing your own timeline, but that was a rule he’d broken more than once, and never with any dire consequences.  

It was time to get help from the one person as devoted to Rose Tyler’s health and happiness as he was—himself.

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter 6

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: mentions of childhood cancer and death (canon), spousal abuse, miscarriage

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @karimac @theesirenteller @kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @ninjasawakenedmystar @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129945505

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you want to be added :)

****

He wakes at two a.m.; confused and disoriented. After three-quarters of a year, he’s no longer engulfed by the sights and sounds within his hospital room. While stark white walls have transformed into dark wood panelling, the overwhelming and nauseating combined stenches of antiseptic, sickness and death have been replaced by the fire that keeps their little home warm. Gone is the cramped, single bed with its metal safety bars and pristine, uncomfortably stiff sheets; he’s graduated to a double king covered in layers of colourful quilts and blankets. At last able to share a bed with the woman he loves; finding himself caught up in her familiar smell, the brush of her body against his, and the sighs, murmurs and giggles that she emits in the midst of the deepest of sleeps.

It was during the first hours in Dhaka that he’d discovered an ease and comfort with her that he’d never experienced before. He had smiled and laughed for the first time in what felt like forever; a pure and genuine contentment that he hadn’t experienced since childhood. When his father was away on one of his infamous week-long benders and his mother ‘ruled the roost’. For seven days, there’d been no fear lingering under that roof; he felt safe and secure, and he was able to enjoy the company of his mother without having to worry about his old man ruining every single moment. Forever wanting him to ‘harden up; degrading his only child for showing emotion and both accepting and handing out affection.

With Esme, he’d felt very much like that little boy again. Realizing through every kiss and every brush of her hand and the press of her body against his that he’d been living for years…decades…completely and utterly touched starved. Even with Mia, his wants and needs were kept frustratingly out of reach. Outside of sex, she had zero interest in physical intimacy; she preferred he didn’t enter her ‘personal space’ and let him know from very early on that she disliked even being embraced. Esme however, simply couldn’t get enough of it; she loved everything from the simplest, most innocent of touches to the most invasive and raunchy of sexual encounters. In turn, he had thrived alongside her; enjoying the fact that she needed and wanted him and wasn’t afraid to show it.

In turn, she’d made him realize that he was still very much alive; he could still FEEL. Not just intense desire and animalistic lust, but complete and utter devotion; quickly smitten by her bubbly personality and these enormous dark eyes, the way she chewed on her bottom lip while immersed in deep thought, and how she would give a tiny squeal and a bounce of her heels whenever they received good news or something appealing caught her eye. She was strong in ways that were solely her own; not business savvy or a physical powerhouse like Nic, nor cold and calculated like Mia; years spent working in the law field had made her incredibly jaded and cynical. But a strength that seemed to come straight from her soul; seeing the beauty in the world despite years of torment and punishment that had been dumped in her lap. Everything that had been down to her at the hands of her ex, and she still saw the good in everyone; perhaps naive and childish at times, but both utterly appealing and highly addictive.

She was the first person since his mother that he’d allowed himself to be completely vulnerable with; permitting her past the walls he’d long ago built up to contain the immense heartache, guilt, and regret that he’d burdened himself with. And she hadn’t looked at him like a monster when he told her about his biggest mistake; fleeing when his son was at the tail end of his courageous -and extremely painful- battle with cancer. Admitting that he’d gone to the hospital just hours before being shipped off on his third tour of Afghanistan; brave enough to put his own life on the line but too weak to stay behind and hold his son’s hand until the bitter end. And speaking the truth had been both incredibly painful and cathartic. Revealing that he’d simply stood at the window of his son’s room and watched the six-year-old colour; not having the courage to step through the door and give a ‘face to face’ goodbye and instead simply turning and walking away.

His little boy watching the entire time.

Esme is the only living soul who knows THAT part. He’d never been brave enough to say it out loud; the heights and the depths of his brand of cowardice. While she immediately held him accountable and agreed that, yes, it was a horrible mistake, she also sympathized with him; the loss of a child was extremely difficult and nearly impossible to bear for even the strongest of souls.

And she’d cried along with him; feeling his grief and his sorrow so profoundly. “I’m sorry, Tyler,” she had managed through a flood of tears and sobs that wracked her entire body. “I am so sorry you lost your little boy.”

It would be the first time, and the last, that they’d speak of Austin. She refused to press him for any more information and strayed away from asking anything about his former life. Instead, giving him the space and respect he needed on his journey; acknowledging his boundaries and refusing to trespass against him. She knew that if he needed and WANTED to, he’d approach HER. And in response, she’d be a safe person…a safe PLACE…for him. More than willing to help him carry his baggage; lend an understanding ear, a shoulder to cry on, or someone to merely vent to.

Yet somehow, over the course of five days and while allowing him space, they became messily and irreversibly tangled up in one another. Two broken, world-weary people finding solace in one another; finding comfort, pleasure, and safety in one another’s arms. And laying the foundation for a bond that was far stronger and ran much deeper than anything they’d ever experienced before.

*****

She sleeps soundly beside him. Tightly wrapped in one of the patchwork quilts; only the top of her head and her toes visible. It’ll take some getting used to; all the quirks and habits that make Esme who she is. Her tendency to steal every blanket, the way she quietly hums while working in the kitchen, how the labels on cans of food have to be perfectly lined up in the cupboard, and the towels and face cloths in each bathroom have to be an exact match. And he wonders how much of her idiosyncrasies come from the years spent under Mark’s extremely volatile and controlling behaviour; forced to have even the tiniest of details picture perfect.

The damage runs deep. It’s evidence existing even in the most innocent of moments. When he raises his voice or looks at her a certain way; noticing the way her entire body stiffens, and her lower lip and chin begin to tremble as she struggles to rein in her emotions. How she flinches if he moves too quickly beside her or simply reaches overhead. It’s what he hates the most: seeing the fear and the trepidation that immediately takes over. She had taken countless beatings over the course of three years, resulting in multiple trips to the ER, split lips and broken bones, a busted eardrum -and mild yet permanent hearing loss- and two stays in the Intensive Care Unit. Being treated as a punching bag stays with you; the trauma and lingering anxiety are both deeply rooted. And to have her react that way with him is a kick in the gut; the knowledge that while she claims to feel safe and protected in his presence, the ghost of her ex is always hovering close by, ready to make an appearance.

He’s unsure how long he stays in bed. One forearm slung over his eyes, the other across her pillow; his palm on the top of her head as his fingers continuously skim through her hair and his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow. Hoping to be lulled back asleep by her soft, warm skin and a combination of noises; Lucy’s sot snoring from her spot at the end of the bed, Esme’s occasional murmuring and giggling, the whistling of the wind and the rattling of the windows. But when rest continues to evade him and discomfort begins to settle in his shoulder, back, and knee, he forces himself to move. Wincing as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed; briefly closing his eyes as fights off the pain and blindly reaches for the cane he’d stashed by the side of the nightstand.

It’s easier now; taking only one try -and tremendous trust in both the assistive device and his good leg- to get himself up onto his feet. His confidence slowly returning as each day…each minute…passes since he came out of his coma; he feels stronger and more optimistic and views each step as a tremendous milestone. Now able to walk small distances without the brace or the fear of the unsupported knee giving away underneath him; taking is slowly and easy as both strength and stamina begin to slowly return. And the pain is tolerable; relying solely on the prescriptions written by the specialists and adhering to the strict schedule they’d constructed and presented him with.

A hell of a feat for a guy who, just ten months ago, was a hard-core alcoholic and addict.

While the cravings remain and come out to play when he’s feeling his lowest and most defeated, he’s managed to keep his demons at bay; managing to find much healthier and productive ways of coping with the amount of guilt, grief, and self-loathing that still weigh him down. Reminding himself at the start of each day that it’s no longer ‘just him’; that there’s someone not only relying on him to stay clean and sober, but who vehemently BELIEVES in him. There’s too much to lose now; a new life that he’s building with a person that doesn’t necessarily need him, but WANTS him. Who admits to being safe and secure in his presence; two things she’d never experienced before and never realized how much she needed to feel them. And it was her that he fought his way back for; hearing her voice and feeling her touch and desperately wanting to see her again. To once more experience those feelings she so easily and effortlessly managed to bring to the surface. Love and lust. Want and need. And so many damn things in between.

Dressing himself is what takes the most effort; having to fight through the pain that inhabits his surgically repaired left shoulder to even slip a shirt over his head and do up his pants. Esme, despite her tiny size, usually helps out; making him sit in a chair so she can properly assist him; patiently tending to things like zippers and buttons while never treating him like he’s a burden. Refusing to let feelings of frustration or helplessness fester inside of him; consistently reminding him -in the tender, loving way of hers- that this was all just a small bump in the road. Pointing out that he’s lucky to even still be alive; lesser men would have perished on that bridge, not fought their way back, especially for a woman they barely knew. She had been the only one who had seen him at his lowest in the hospital; the person that he could be completely vulnerable with and not live to regret it. Such a small and seemingly fragile woman that was tougher than any soldier or mercenary he’d ever known; putting her own ass on the line in order to save his. And then putting her entire life on hold in hopes that she’d be able to create something new with HIM; a man with mountains of baggage and addiction issues and a six-year-long death wish.

Planting his palm on the mattress, he leans over the bed; his eyes briefly closing as his nose nuzzles her temple with the tip of his nose. Breathing in that familiar scent: milk and honey and coconut. A smell that isn’t particularly unique, but represents everything that is good and beautiful that continues to thrive between them. They’re both a mess; they willingly and easily admit to that. But they hold onto the hope that maybe…just maybe…two broken people CAN come together to make a slightly tarnished, dented whole.

Limping out into the dimly lit kitchen, he makes himself a cup of coffee before retreating to the sofa; wasting half an hour alternating between watching the local news channel on mute and browsing the web on his phone. Boredom quickly sets in and he renders him anxious and fidgety; the frustration growing over the reality that none of his usual activities -all centred around keeping his body busy in hopes of distracting his mind- are unavailable to him.

It’s a difficult and bitter pill to swallow; used to leading an active lifestyle, yet now relegated to doing little more than limping around the house and feeling sorry for himself. The latter is what he’s desperate to avoid; warned before his release from the hospital that he was very likely to experience some level of depression. The deep and profound sadness that comes with remembering what your life was like…what YOU were like… before landing in their care, precariously teetering on death’s door. He had wanted to laugh in their faces; he didn’t WANT to remember the man he was prior to the events in Dhaka. That guy had died on the bridge; succumbing to multiple gunshot wounds and severe blood loss. And he no longer wanted to be HIM. Instead, determined to be the kind of man that Esme needed, wanted and deserved. It wasn’t the loss of his previous life that he mourned, it was what he couldn’t yet do with the new one he’d be given.

Unable to get comfortable on the couch, he makes a second cup of coffee and walks down to the lake; a mere fifty yards that may as well be fifty miles. It’s an incredibly slow and tedious journey; the combination of the ache in his knee and across his lower back, his diminished muscle tone and stamina, and the amount -and thickness- of the snow that has fallen over the past several hours. But once down there, it’s a hell of a view; the sky as black as freshly poured ink and embedded with a multitude of stars, the shadow of the mountains looming on the horizon. And the enormous full moon reflected on the body of water that has yet to freeze thoroughly.

It’s peaceful; with no neighbours for miles, and far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Vienna. And what could have easily been an incredibly isolating and lonely place to seek rest and refuge in, feels anything but. Just the mere thought of the comforts of home just yards away: good food, a loyal dog, a warm fire and a comfortable bed.

And the love of his life.

He’s not afraid to admit it. At least not to himself. But a fear lingers just under the surface; the worry that if he speaks the words aloud and puts them out into the universe, something will go disastrously wrong. As if it’s all too good to be true; surviving what would undoubtedly kill many and living to tell about it. Finding someone in the midst of all of the messiness and madness; someone willing to help shoulder and carry his burdens and who accepts every broken piece of him. Guys like him don’t deserve that kind of life; the blood they’ve spilled and the ‘body count’ that they’ve racked up. Most are proud of what they’ve done; the tallies they keep, the stories they share, and the memories of all the gruesome and painful ways they punished people. The thought of that life leaves him feeling hollow. Ashamed. He’s not proud of the things he’s done; the lives he’s taken, the families he’s ruined, and the money he’s taken in the process. But it was all he’d known; a soldier from the time he was eighteen years old. Strength and agility and speed and immense power and skill.

Since the moment he’d been lucid enough to comprehend what had happened and the toll it took on his mind and body, he’d wondered where he’d go from there. If retirement was truly the only option. He didn’t feel defeated; Esme made sure of that as she served as his one-woman cheering section. She kept him going on the days he didn’t think he could; reminding him of how far he’d come, how many people he’d proven wrong, and just how strong and resilient he is.

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Tyler,” she’d informed him, shortly after a more painful and tedious than usual physiotherapy session. “You shouldn’t even be here, but you ARE. Don’t let Dhaka win. Not now. You’ve come too far to give it that satisfaction.”

So he keeps going. For her.

Taking one last swallow of coffee, he carefully gets to his feet; dumping the remains in the lake and then turning towards the house. Facing the lone, now empty chair on the edge of the deck.

He’ll have to change that. Add to it. Get her a chair of own. In her favourite colour, if he can find it.

After all, it’s not just him anymore.

****

“Tyler?”

He gives a small start; her voice quiet and tired as she stands on the threshold between the master bedroom and kitchen. Unsure of just how long he’s been sitting at the table; feeling empty and numb as he stares at the black, blank screen of his laptop. Has it been just minutes? Hours? How much time HAS passed since he returned to the cabin and stumbled upon the box Nik had brought from his old place? The moment he’d stepped inside, he’d come face to face with his past. Sitting right where he’d left it; on the table by the door, surrounded by car and house keys and cell phones and various items to throw into the recycle boxes out on the porch.

He doesn’t even remember picking the box up. Never mind sitting down to rifle through it. Everything is muddled and running together: the sound of his son’s voice and giggle, the sight of unruly, blond hair and enormous hazel eyes and a beautiful smile. Images and memories that have been fading with time; adding more pain on top of the grief, regret, and guilt that he can’t seem to shake.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” He tries to keep his voice even. Emotionless. But his throat burns, and his chest feels tight, and he’s not sure he can be convincing in the slightest. “ It’s late. Or really early. Whatever way you want to look at it.”

“I woke up, and you were gone. It scared me. I got worried.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“Are you alright? Did you have a bad dream? Like the ones you had in the hospital?”

“I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. I think it’s just a matter of adjusting; to how damn dark and quiet it is here. It’s like night and day.”

“It is kind of weird,” Esme admits. “I noticed it right away, too. It wasn’t like this. There were always lights on and always some kind of noise. Or people waking you up. What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I was just watching something. On the ‘net.”

“Are you okay? Any pain? Do you need some meds or…?”

“I’m fine,” he assures her, tone more curt than it needs to be. She doesn’t deserve that; her fears and concerns come from a place of genuine love and adoration. And she’d spent the better part of a year by his bedside; not only fighting for the best possible care but refusing to give up long after everyone else had all but ‘pulled the plug’. “But thank you,” he quickly adds, glancing over his shoulder to where she lingers in the bedroom doorway. A tiny figure illuminated only by moonlight and the glow of the bedside lamp; diminutive frame all but swallowed by a pair of blue and red plaid pyjamas. “For worrying about me.”

“It’s what I do best.”

“I can think of a few things you do best. Better than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

She gives a small laugh. “That’s a hell of a compliment coming from a ‘total male slut turned one woman man’. Unless…”

“Don’t even finish that. There’s only you. There’s only EVER going to be you.” It’s the truth; knowing in his heart that this is it. This is the ‘one.’ And it’s going to move fast. Taking on a breath-stealing, almost terrifying pace that is impossible to stop. Not that he wants to.

“Do you need some company? I could make some tea and…”

“Just go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Okay,” she relents, and then hesitates. Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, her hand remaining on the doorframe as she watches him from across the room.

He wants to tell her. He NEEDS to tell her. Fill in those last remaining gaps that separate his former life from his present; unable to fully move on until he closes the final chapter. And it’s something he so desperately desires: the ability to completely concentrate on what he has in front of him. Those things that are real and tangible; the sound of both her voice and laugh, the familiar scent that clings to her body and hair, that special little smile that is reserved solely for him, and the way she cradles his face in her hands and kisses with a softness that takes his breath away. They…SHE…deserves all of him. And he can’t give her that, unless…

“Esme?”

The soft creak of the floorboards again. And out of the corner of his eye, he sees her in the doorway once more.

“Will you do something for me?”

*****

She sits at the kitchen table nursing a mug of tea, the laptop open and waiting on the tabletop. And she gives him a smile when he joins her, unzipping his hoodie and draping it over her shoulders before sitting down next to her. Tightly huddled together; both shoulders and the sides of their legs pressed against each other.

His fingers hesitate over the keyboard. “Before I show you this, a word of warning: my ex is in it.”

“Okay…”

“I just didn’t want you to be surprised by it. Or have it upset you. To see her.”

“Why would it upset me? You had a life before me. Just like I had one before you.”

“If I’m honest, I’m not exactly thrilled at ever seeing what your ex looked like.”

“It’s not like you can compare the two. I know things weren’t perfect; you guys had your problems long before your son ever got sick. But Mark is in a league all of his own. He’s his own brand of evil. No one can even come close, believe me.”

“Maybe it’s better I NEVER see him. Or find out where he lives.”

“If anything…” She sips at her tea. “...it’s better for HIM if you don’t.”

“My son’s in it too. He’s the reason I want you to watch it. Because he was my life, and now you are and…” Tyler swallows around the lump of emotion that sits square in his throat. “...and I need you to see him.”

“Alright.”

“But only if you WANT to. See him. I don’t want you doing it because I’m bullying you into it. I don’t…”

“I’d love to see him. I WANT to see him.”

It’s just as painful -if not more- to watch the second time. The emotions heightened. Flooded by the memories of his son and overwhelmed by the added element; Esme beside him as he shares an enormous part of his life BEFORE her. He’s filled with a level of anxiety that he can’t quite explain; teetering on the threshold of fear as he anticipates her reactions to the things she’s seeing and hearing. The image of him twirling his son high in the air, his ex-wife smiling and talking to the camera as she splashes in the surf, Austin with his shrieks and his giggles, and his shaggy hair and enormous eyes as he races towards the camera.

She’s the first person he’s ever shared his son with; others in his life not caring to get that ‘attached’ to him or his past. And if he’s honest, he can admit that he’s never been with someone he WANTED to share those memories with. Nik viewed him -at times- as nothing more than a nuisance and a way to scratch her own itch, and Yaz and him have never been close enough to consider each other friends. And all the women he’d bedded after his divorce were nothing more than conquests; opportunities to be physically satisfied without the added strings attached.

Although he’s vaguely aware he’s holding his breath the entire time the video plays, he hears every little laugh she gives and sees -out of the corner of his eye- every smile that curves her lips. And when it’s over and he can finally breathe again, the silence in the cabin is deafening; somehow eerily drowning out the howling of the wind and rattling of the windows and the crackling of the fire. He finds himself unable to move or speak for what seems like a lifetime; frozen and rooted in place. Unable to speak or form even a coherent thought until Esme gives a choked sob beside him; her entire body shaking as tears spill down her cheeks.

“Hey…” Laying a hand on the back of her head, Tyler gently pulls her towards him. “...don’t…”

“It’s not my place. To be feeling these things. It’s not my loss or my grief. I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know him. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay…” He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose, then rests his forehead against hers. “...you don’t have to explain. You don’t…”

“It’s because of how I feel about you. I hate that you went through this. That you lost your son. And I’m so sorry, Tyler. That this happened. That he got sick and he died and…”

“Shhh…” Pushing his fingers through her hair, he gently kneads at her scalp. “...just breathe, Esme. Just breathe…”

“You didn’t deserve that. None of you did. Not you, not Mia, and especially not your son. And if there was any way I could go back and fix things so it never happened…”

“Listen to me,” Pulling away, he takes her face in his hands; voice stern, eyes locked on hers. “Don’t you EVER say that. I don’t want you even THINKING it. Because if you change one thing, you change everything. That means you wouldn’t exist. We wouldn’t exist. And I wouldn’t give this…YOU…up for anything. Or anyone.”

“Really?”

“I know that probably makes me sound like a really shitty person. A really shitty DAD.”

“It makes you sound honest. Even if it were possible, you wouldn’t…?”

“Even if it were. I still wouldn’t change a damn thing. ‘Cause I’m in way too deep. With you. And it’s fucking terrifying.”

“It is. But not in a bad way, you know? Not in a way that makes me want to run away from it. Because I know I’m okay. I know I’m safe. With you. And you’re the first person to ever make me feel that way. And I never realized I NEEDED to feel that.”

“I don’t know what good I’d be right now. Can’t do much when it comes to the whole protecting thing.”

“If you had to, you’d find a way. If there was some kind of threat or I was in any kind of danger, nothing would stop you from keeping me safe.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Someone has to. And it’s not just a physical thing. Feeling safe with you. I can’t explain it. I just know that I’m okay. That nothing bad is going to happen to me. No one is going to hurt me. I don’t have to worry about having my heart broken. Or my face, for that matter.”

“Not all men hit.”

“I know. And for the longest, I always thought they did. That's all I knew. About love. I thought it was ugly and painful and that I didn’t deserve anything better than that. And then I met you. Now I’m not scared anymore. At least, not of that.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared you’re going to run. I mean, you just said it was terrifying; all the things you feel for me. What if it becomes too much? What if…?”

“I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him since I met you. Do you think we’d have gotten this far…that we’d be here right now…if I were still him?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s all going to be okay. It’s not a bad scary. Not in the slightest. It’s just…”

“Overwhelming.”

He nods.

“But like in this amazing way. It’s scary, but it’s not a horrible scary. Does that make sense?”

“To me, it does. If you were to tell anyone else that, they’d probably think you’re nuts.”

Giving a small laugh, she uses the sleeves of her pyjamas to wipe away her tears; a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she regards the now blank computer screen. “Your son was so beautiful, Tyler. He looked so much like you.”

“Everyone used to say that. He had his mum’s eyes, though.”

“This might be way off base, but why did you only have one? He was six when he died. How come you and Mia didn’t have another baby? I mean, it’s hard to judge off a three-minute video, but you both looked like great parents. Why…?”

“We realized that we were better as friends than as husband and wife. It’s pretty much how we lived. For the last couple of years before he got sick. We weren’t bringing another kid into that. It was hard work; keeping up appearances for him. We didn’t want him to know that we were sticking together for him. Maybe when we got a little older, he could have handled knowing that, but…”

“Why did you get married? If you weren’t that compatible, why…?”

“I thought we were. I thought I loved her. I mean, I did. I DID love her. But not the kind of love that’s enough to have more kids and keep a marriage going. The funny thing is, it took me until I was thirty-five to realize all that.”

“What happened when you were thirty-five?”

He stares at her pointedly.

“I’m kidding.” Pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose, she turns back to the laptop; chewing on her bottom lip as she drums her fingernails on the lid. “Did you go to the beach a lot? Was that a favourite thing to do?”

“Once we moved to Australia, we went there quite a bit. He loved it. Anything to do with water.”

“You didn’t live there? When you got married?”

“We got married in Brussels. I was stationed there. When we met. And it made sense to extend my posting; her career was there, and I didn’t have any family or anyone else waiting for me back home, so…”

“How long did you stay?”

“Seven years. My boy was three when we moved to Australia.”

“Took you guys long enough to have kids. Why…?”

“She wasn’t sure she wanted any. Mia was always about her work. It always came first. Even after we got married. Even after my boy came along. We were both bad for that; putting other things and other people before each other. That was probably one of the biggest issues. Other than me being a fucking asshole.”

“There’s no way you were THAT bad. You’re not a horrible person, Tyler. You’re a good person who made a bad mistake. So I highly doubt you were some evil being while you were married to her.”

“I wasn’t a good husband. I didn’t know how to be one. I told you about my dad. I didn’t exactly have a role model growing up. When it came to how I should treat a wife.”

“You didn’t…”

“Hit her? No. Fuck, no. I’ve never been THAT messed up. I just wasn’t present. Like I should have been. And maybe part of it was because SHE wasn’t? So I figured, why should I be? I don’t really know. All I DO know is that she deserved better. And that she was worth a lot more than I was ever willing to give her.”

“Where is she now?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Do you ever think about finding her? Contacting her?”

Tyler shakes his head. “That chapter is closed. And trust me, I’m the last person she wants to hear from.”

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I love YOU.”

“You feel nothing for her?”

“I don’t think I ever really did. Not if I go by what I feel now. For you.”

“Do you ever think about having another kid? About being a dad again?”

“I’ve thought about it a couple of times. In the last few weeks, anyway. Before that? No. I mean, I fucked it up once. Why would I want to fuck it up again?”

“You weren’t a horrible father. You were a really good one who found himself in an awful situation.”

“It was the worst mistake I ever made. Abandoning him.”

“If you could go back…”

“Esme…”

“Just hear me out. IF you could go back and change just that one thing? If you found a way to rewind the clock and stay until the bitter end, do you think things would have been different? For you and Mia?”

“No. Because we ended a long time before his life ever did.”

“And that was a mutual thing or….?”

“We had already talked about it: getting divorced, custody, support. We were ready to start the process. And then he got sick and everything changed. We decided to stay together for him. First, it was until he was finished treatment and he was cancer-free. And then when we realized he wasn’t going to get better, it was until he died.”

“Are you angry? At her? For things not turning out the way you wanted them to? Relationship wise?”

“I have no reason to be angry at her. We both made mistakes.”

“I can’t imagine going through all of that. That’s a parent’s worst nightmare. Their child getting sick and seeing them waste away, and then watching them die. I…” Taking a long, quivering breath, Esme swipes at her tears with the back of her hand. “...I feel sorry for her. That she lost her baby. I know what it was like to lose one in the early stages; before I ever got to know if it was a boy or a girl or even plan a nursery or think about names. I can’t imagine having a child…this little being I carried inside of me for nine months…and losing them.”

“Just because you didn’t go all those months and give birth, doesn’t mean you weren’t a mum.”

“It was so early into things. I didn’t even get out of the second trimester. And it’s not that I did anything wrong…”

“That thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

“...it’s just that the baby was sick. They did some tests after I miscarried, and they admitted they missed a lot of things. During the ultrasounds. The baby had a lot of things wrong with it. That it couldn’t possibly survive even if I DID carry to term. Not compatible with life, they said.”

“I’m sorry. That you went through that. That you didn’t get to see your baby.”

“I would have had it anyway. Or tried to. Had things been different and I’d been able to carry to term. Or close to it. He blamed me, you know. Mark. He said it was my fault. That I was ‘paying for my sins’. That it was because I was a terrible wife and I was being taught my lesson. That I needed to be a better person and listen to what he said and do what I was told…”

“The more you tell me about this guy, the more I WANT to find out where he was. So I CAN kill him. But not before I torture him. Slowly and extremely painfully.”

“I believed it. For the longest time. Even after I’d gotten away from him. It took me longer than it should have to realize he was the problem. Not me. And I’m not perfect. By any stretch of the imagination. But I’m not the things he said he was. I’m not.”

“I know that. You don’t have to convince me.” And if you DO want me to track him down and kill him…”

“I want him to stay in the past. It won’t do any good, Tyler. Letting him in here. To this place. To this life. That we’re making together. He doesn’t deserve to be part of it.”

“But you know you can talk about it, yeah? When you need to? Because keeping that in? That’s not good. Esme. And it won’t lead anywhere good. Believe me, I know.”

“There’s not much more I need to say. I’ve told you everything. Even the ugliest and most brutal of parts. Yet you’re still here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“A lot wouldn’t stay. Most men would see how big of a mess I am and cut their losses and take off.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m not like most men.”

She manages a laugh. “You can say that again.”

“And you’re not that big of a mess, trust me. You’re talking to a pretty big one.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? What was it that Nik said? About the blind leading the blind?”

“What the fuck would Nik know? She doesn’t love anything but her work. I don’t think she’s capable of it.”

“She loves you.”

“Don’t start with that. Don’t…”

“I don’t mean in THAT way. She could, for all I know. But it’s not like she’s ever confided in me about it. I just meant that she cares about you. She wants what’s best for you.”

“She wanted to pull the plug.”

“Well, lucky for you, I wouldn’t let her. And she knew better than to fight me about it. She knew it would be a losing battle.”

“You are tough for a little thing.”

“I have five older brothers. Believe me, I HAD to be tough.”

“Yeah, well, even the tough ones need someone else to baby them from time to time.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“I only admit to that if it stays between me and you.”

“Another secret I have to keep for you? Jesus! It must be exhausting having to keep up your reputation.”

“It’s a twenty-four-hour job.” Cradling her face in his palms, he uses the pads of his thumbs to clear the last of her tears away. “Do you ever think about it? Trying to have another baby?”

“I’ve only thought about it every day. Since it happened.”

“And is there a reason maybe you can’t? Some kind of health thing that says maybe you shouldn’t or…?”

“It had nothing to do with me. I CAN carry to term. Or so I’ve been told. My body is fine. Everything is in working order. It was one of the first things I asked; if there was a reason I couldn’t be a mom.”

“And you want to be, yeah? A mom?”

“I’ve only wanted to be a mom since I was a little girl. Probably for the lack of a decent mother in my life. Why?”

“Just curious. Something I thought was important to know. I mean, I’ve thought about it. Us. Babies.”

“Really?”

“You haven’t?”

“A couple of times. Here and there. I wouldn’t object to it…” She pushes a hand through his hair; holding the longer top strand off his brow. “...you putting your big-headed, big-footed babies in me.”

“Excuse you?”

“You have a big head. And big feet. REALLY big feet, actually.”

“You’re just abnormally tiny. Maybe our kids would be, too.”

“One can hope. For my poor vagina’s sake. And you have to admit, we’d make really beautiful babies.”

“If they look like their mother, yeah.”

“Do you not look in the mirror? How do you not realize how good-looking you are? I don’t understand it. Why is it that some of the most beautiful people never understand just HOW beautiful they are?”

“I’ve lived with this face for thirty-five…’

She noisily clears her throat.

“Thirty-SIX years. I know what I look like. I know my shortcomings.”

“Baby, there is nothing short about you in the slightest.”

“And you have the nerve to call ME the dirty one?” Pushing wayward strands away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes, he holds her cheeks in his palms and presses a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “You okay?”

She nods. “Are you?”

“I am now. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything, Just…everything.”

Smiling, she pecks the tip of his nose. “I should be thanking YOU. For sharing your son with me. For letting me see him. It means a lot, you know that. That you trust me with that. With HIM.”

“Like I said, he was my life. And now you are. It was important to me. That you saw him. And found out more about him.”

“I know how hard it is for you, Tyler. Talking about him. Never mind letting me see him. So for you to do that? To WANT that? That’s huge. I’m proud of you.”

“Now you’re going to make ME cry.”

“Well, that’s another thing you’re learning. That it’s alright to do that. It’s okay not to be the big, bad, mercenary man all the time.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” Wrapping her arms around his torso, she rests her head upon his shoulder, her nose pressed against his neck. The boss.”

“If it helps you sleep better at night….” Repeatedly running his hands along her sides, he places a kiss on her temple. “...you should try getting some more.”

“Only if you do.”

“I’ll be in a few minutes. After I tidy things up out here.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agrees, and slides off her chair. “Will you check the doors again? And the windows?”

“Babe, we live in the middle of normal. So unless the bears know how to open shit…”

“Please? Just check again? For paranoid little old me?”

“Just for you.”

Tugging affectionately on his ears, she drops a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you. Don’t be long, okay? I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Believe me, neither do I.”

He watches as she goes; listening to the patter of her bare feet and her tiny yawns and seeing the way she pauses to stretch while on the threshold between kitchen and master bedroom. It’s the first time he’s ever really ‘noticed’ someone; the things that make them tick, their quirks and eccentricities. All those little things that make them, THEM.

And he loves every single one.

****

It’s daylight when he wakes; sunlight streaming through the curtains, the snowstorm having stopped in the wee hours of the morning. He can’t recall the exact time he returned to bed, but Esme had immediately responded to him slipping under the blankets, squirming her way across the mattress and snuggling in as close and as tight as she possibly could. Her face buried in that favourite spot of hers between the side of his neck and shoulder; arm over his chest and a leg over one of his. And the last thing he recalls before once more succumbing to sleep is wrapping both arms around her; chin resting on the top of her head, his joined hands at the small of her back.

Now he wakes to an empty bed; the pillowcase and sheets on her side wrinkled, yet all the blankets pulled up to his chin and tucked tightly around him. And he immediately regrets tossing off the mound of quilts and comforters; violently shivering as reaches for a discarded pair of sweatpants slung over the bedside chair. It’s easy to slip into them, but getting to his feet is an entirely different story; a throbbing, stabbing pain in his knee on the initial bearing of weight. But it thankfully doesn’t threaten to buckle. That’s a good sign. He’ll take that as a ‘win.’

He finds her in the kitchen. Standing at the table, making him a cup of coffee with the French press, and still clad in her pyjamas, woolly socks, and one of his hoodies. Her hair twisted and piled onto the top of her head; crafted into a makeshift bun held together by two ballpoint pens. And her own laptop now sits open in the middle of the table, accompanied by a pad of paper and a pencil

Sanding behind her, Tyler lays a hand on her stomach and leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Mornin’.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she cheerfully greets, and tilts her head back to smile up at him. “Good news! We won’t have to make coffee like we’re in the Stone Age for long! I ordered a coffee maker AND an espresso machine.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Spending money. Well, YOUR money, technically. Sorry. I’m still having issues getting everything from my US account to the one here. As soon as it happens, I promise I’ll get that money back to you.”

Dropping two spoons of sugar into his coffee, he stirs vigorously. “Why would you need to do that?”

“‘Cause that money is yours and…”

“That money is in an account with BOTH our names on it.”

“But it’s all YOUR cash that’s in there. None of it’s mine and…”

“And what? That’s OUR money. Not just mine.”

“It’s the payment you got from Mahajan. Or part of it, anyway. You’ll never see the other half.”

“It’s OUR money,” he forcibly repeats, then fills her mug of tea from the pot on the stove before sitting down across from her. “Don’t ever call it just my money again.”

“You’re bossy.”

“Just telling it like it is. There’s nothing separate. Not anymore. Everything’s ours. There’s no yours or mine.”

“What about my cramps, my cravings for chocolate, and my pimples?” She gives a dramatic pout. “ I break out when my period is coming.”

“Okay, so all of THAT stuff is yours. How long have you been up?”

“A couple of hours. I did my yoga, took a bath. Then Lucy and I went for a walk; just down to the lake and back again. It’s not that cold out; it shouldn’t be too bad for walking around town for a bit. If you’re up to it.”

“I’m up to it. The knee’s feeling pretty good; didn’t try to give way when I put weight on it. That’s a good sign.”

“You still have to wear the brace, though. At least for a few more weeks. Give it a chance to toughen up some more. And the sling…”

“I promise I will put both of them on before I leave the house.”

Stretching her legs out under the table, she jabs him in the stomach with one of her feet. “I nag you because I care.”

“And I put up with it because you’re insanely hot and give fucking amazing head.”

“Jerk,” she grumbles, then aggressively presses her heels into his crotch. Giggling when he softly tickles the bottoms of her feet before taking them both in one hand and settling them in his lap.

They easily and comfortably lapse into their usual morning routine. Something they’d established in Dhaka and had continued when he’d woken from his coma and could stay awake for prolonged periods of time and hold a lucid conversation. Him grumpy and silent as Esme -her ever cheerful, bubbly self- talked his ear off about everything under the sun. And while it had initially annoyed him and at times -in the midst of horrendous pain- he found himself praying she’d just ‘shut the fuck up’, he’s grown to enjoy it. Knowing that living with her chattiness and enthusiasm is a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Not living with her at all.

“And I started a list!” She announces as she switches from one topic to the other; making the effortless switch about having to shovel out the truck to her plans for the cabin. “Of things that we can tackle first in here. That won’t require too much manual labour.”

“Like…”

“Well, it’s really just ideas. For paint colours and flooring and if not new furniture altogether, at least covers for what’s already here. Modern it up, a bit.”

“I think we should go new everything. If we’re going to make this place a home, might as well go all out.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Which means we’re going to need a stove. Right now, we’re just dealing with two hot plates and a toaster oven. And I’m sorry, but those just aren’t going to cut it. I can’t bake in a toaster oven.”

“You bake?”

“I thought I told you that. I DO bake. And not to toot my horn, but I bake VERY well. I actually held a record in Colorado! Voted best pecan butter tarts in the entire state FIVE YEARS running!”

“I’m banging a celebrity.”

“A small-time celebrity, mind you. But yes, I do bake. And I LOVE doing it.”

“What else do you make? Besides these butter tarts?”

“Anything and everything. Cakes, pies, dessert squares, bread. Nothing is off limits.”

“Boston Cream pie?”

“That was my dad’s absolute favourite. He’s the one who taught me how to make it. I still use his recipe.”

“I’m going to gain a lot of weight, aren’t I.”

“You might. Although you’re a pretty active guy. You work out a lot and run and….”

“I’m not doing any of that right now.”

“Maybe not, but you’re not feeble. I can think of other ways…” She once more digs her toes into his crotch. “...that you can work up a sweat. Keep the pounds off.”

“You mean my favourite form of cardio?”

She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, laughing when he reaches further under the table and tickles the back of her knee. “You would have liked him. My dad. He was a good guy.”

“How could he not have been? He raised you, didn’t he?”

“He did a lot more than my mom ever did, that’s for sure. We were a lot alike; we were both outgoing and chatty, and we enjoyed meeting new people everywhere we went. And we loved the same things; hockey and dirt biking and rock climbing. Fishing. We were ALWAYS outside. And we used to take trips, just the two of us. We’d rent a trailer and drive all over the state and visit all different kinds of different RV parks. Sometimes we even went further. Right into Kansas or Oklahoma or Nebraska. Even New Mexico. We did it just do it. Get away from it all. And especially to get away from my mother and brothers.”

“Yeah, she sounds like a real piece of work.”

“You remind me of him. In a lot of ways. How much you love the outdoors and animals, how far you’re willing to go to protect people. You’re all about rooting for the underdog. Sticking up for them when no one else does or when they can't do it for themselves. He was the same way.”

“That’s a hell of a compliment. Being compared to him. Considering everything you’ve told me about him…”

“I think he would have liked you. Maybe not a first; at first, he might have had a hard time. I mean, you being the one that managed to scoop up his baby girl and take her all the way to the other side of the world in a quest to make an honest woman out of her.”

He grins. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“But he would have warmed up to you. Eventually. Not sure how he would have felt about the mercenary thing…”

“That might have been something to keep quiet. Spare him from having a heart attack. Your mother, on the other hand…”

“She has been leaving me all kinds of messages; voice mails, texts, emails, even. She is not buying the whole ‘meeting someone on a business trip and deciding to shack up with them’ story I handed her. I guess I’ve underestimated her; she IS smart enough to put the pieces together.”

“You’ll have to talk to her sooner or later.”

“Can I choose later?”

“Not unless you want her to keep calling and bugging the shit out of you.”

“I just don’t know what to say. What more does she need to know? I met someone, and I’m not coming back to the States. It’s as simple as that.”

“As evil as she is, and I’m in no way on her side, I think you owe her more than that.”

“I can’t tell her how we met. I can’t tell her what I really did for a living. And I definitely can’t tell her that you’re a mercenary. Because that will go through the family like wildfire, and believe me, that is not drama either of us deserves to deal with.”

“I’m not a mercenary. Not anymore. I WAS one. Is there a reason you don’t want her to know that? Does it embarrass you, or are you ashamed of it or…?”

“Oh my god, no! No! It’s nothing like that. I’m neither of those. Not when it comes to you or what you do for a living. It has nothing to do with you and EVERYTHING to do with her. She will raise hell. And then she’ll get my brothers involved and…”

“What can they do? They’re in Colorado. We’re in Austria. It’s not like they’re going to show up on our doorstep.”

“I just know what she’s like. How she blows things way out of proportion. And right now? I just do NOT want to deal with her shit. I don’t want her causing issues and then having it trickle all the way here and cause problems with us. That’s all I’m concerned about. You and me. And this happy little bubble we’ve locked ourselves into. Can’t we at least try and keep it intact?”

“You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. The WHOLE truth. Because it’s going to get it one way or another, and I just think it’s better if you’re the one that tells her. She’d lose it more if she found out from someone else.”

“She’s just so evil. And if you never meet her, trust me, it’s for the best. You don’t deserve to put up with her shit.”

“How worse could it get? She already hates me, doesn’t she?”

“She doesn’t even know you.”

“I’m the one that stole her little girl away. By gunpoint, if you go by her reaction. She probably thinks I’m holding you hostage. That I don’t let you leave the house. Or…in your case… answer the phone.”

“I will talk to her. I promise. Just not right now. Not for a few days. Can’t we settle in? Somewhat, at least?”

“You know I’m going to nag the shit out of you until you actually DO contact her, yeah?”

Esme sighs. “I know. In the same way, I will consistently nag you about taking care of yourself. What’s that saying? All is fair in love and war? If you have to put up with me, I guess it’s only fair I put up with you.”

“We both know that I’m the one suffering the most.”

She once more digs her toes into his stomach. “As if!”

They once more fall into a companionable silence. Even from the beginning, there’s never been a need for mindless chit-chat; both extremely comfortable in the other's presence. No feeling of awkwardness or the need to put on airs and hide even the messiest and most complicated parts. While living with someone will take a considerable amount of both work and sacrifice, the foundation has already been laid: an ease and trust that should make any hurdle easier to get over.

There’s contentment in merely sharing the same space with her. Whether it be sitting across the table from one another or lounging on separate ends of the couch, or listening to her hum as she busies herself in the kitchen or the bedroom. Even seeing her belongings nestled beside his on the bathroom counter or her clothes hanging near his. And he’s discovered that he’s plagued with a constant need to touch her in some way; whether it be their toes against one another under the table, sides of their legs pressed together while watching TV, or brushing up against while she stands at the sink or the stove DESPITE there being room for not to even come in contact with her. Perhaps it’s to prove to himself that she’s indeed real; she truly HAS become a part of his life. She’s there willingly and happily. And while she doesn’t necessarily need him, she WANTS him.

He watches her now as she alternates between scrolling through a webpage on her laptop and jotting notes in her memo book; the way she chews on the inside of her cheek or taps the pen against the paper, those freckles -in all their glory- that are splattered across the bridge of her nose and travel onto the tops of her cheeks. Fresh-faced and beautiful; she seems years younger with her wild hair and the piercing just below the middle of her bottom lip, and the small, silver hoops and various sparkling studs that travel from the lobes of her ears to the very top of the cartilage. She’s both girl next door and filled with oddities and eccentricities; a mix of both polished and ‘rough around the edges’.

And to him, she’s perfect.

“You feel like going out for lunch today? When we’re in town?”

She looks up from her notebook, dark eyes gleaming. “Are you asking me out on a date, Tyler Rake?”

“Guess it’s about time. Didn’t exactly get the chance to nine months ago. And I’ve been a little…busy…between then and now.”

“Where are we going to eat?”

“Anywhere you want. Mind you, I’m not sure how many options we’re actually going to find, but…”

“What do they think they eat here?”

“Probably what people all over the world eat. All different kinds of things.”

“But I wonder what their specialty is. What they’re known for. There must be such a thing as Austrian cuisine, right?”

“I guess we’re going to find out, aren’t we? So is that a yes, or….”

Sighing, she sighs dramatically and returns her attention to her notepad. “I’m going to have to think about it.”

Scowling, he pinches the back of her calf.

“Of course, it’s a yes! Did you honestly think you’d get a different answer?”

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“It comes in handy.”

“I bet you get away with an awful lot because of it.”

She smiles mischievously and then reaches for her tea, winking at him from over the brim as she presses it to her lips. “That’s something YOU’RE going to find out.”

[chickensarentcheap]

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @starryeyes2000 @asirensrage @thesirenrealm @residentdormouse @mrsmungus @kmc1989​ @timbradfordsboot​

“She had her reasons. For doing what she did.  She was terrified;  that you’d be angry enough  to turn her and Millie away.”

“That never would have happened. Not in a million years.  Five years, AB.  I have missed her for FIVE YEARS.  I never went on with my life. Not really.  I always wondered what happened to her.  What made her leave? What did I do that sent her running? Why didn’t she gave me a chance? To fix whatever it was.”

‘You didn’t do anything, Tyler. You…”

“But I didn’t know that did, I.  And the reason why I didn’t know that is because I didn’t even get an explanation. I got an ‘I’m sorry’ written on a scrap piece of paper,  left in the middle of my kitchen table. What the hell was I supposed to do with that? What was I supposed to think? Did she just get tired of my shit and take off? Did she meet someone else?  Did someone come there and grab her and are gonna call for a ransom? You know what that was like? Wondering what the hell happened to her? Going through every possible scenario?”

“No,” Abuela admits. “I don’t. And I can’t even begin to imagine.”

“It got to the point I wished she was dead.  Not because I hated her and I felt she deserved it. But because I loved her and I couldn’t stand the thought of her being with someone else.  It hurt less to consider her permanently gone than it did to think about her leaving me for someone else.   How fucked up is that?  What kind of sick prick thinks that way?”

“You were hurting.  It was a huge loss. And not knowing exactly what happened…”

“I never stopped loving her.  I never went on with my life.  I don’t think I even really tried.  My entire world ended when she left.  And the only thing that kept me going was this little shred of hope I held onto.  That maybe one day she’d just show up on my doorstep.  Or I’d pick up the phone and it would be her voice on the other end of the line.  I’ve been holding onto that for FIVE YEARS.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 15

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings:  profanity, brief mentions of childhood cancer and death, brief mention of spousal abuse

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @timbradfordsboot @kmc1989 @ninjasawakenedmystar @starryeyes2000 @thesirenrealm @karimac @ocappreciationtag @occommunity​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/121472395

My tag list is open :) Please just let me know if you’d like to be added :)

******

With two fingers hooked in the neckline on the rear of Millie’s shirt, he steers her towards an empty table; dumping her bag onto one of the benches before helping her get seated. A light yet protective hand rests in the middle of her back as she climbs up; grinning as she dramatically grunts and groans and complains "frickin’ hell, so high!". Helping her get settled, he retreats to the other side of the table and takes a seat across from her, smiling at the waitress that sets menus down before them and then placing an order for a cup of coffee and a glass of chocolate milk.

“I can read, you know,” Millie proudly announces, as she flips open one of the menus. “No really big words, but small and medium ones. Momma taught me. She reads to me all the time. Even when I was a baby she did.”

“Your mum loves to read. When I knew her a long time ago, she always carried a book with her wherever she went. She used to want to own a book store; when she was a little girl.”

“Really?”

“Sometimes she’d talk about it. Mention that maybe one day she’d go through it. And she used to write too. Loved keeping a journal. She still do that?”

“Sometimes. She has a little diary she keeps by her bed. In the nightstand.”

“What does she write about?”

“I don’t know,” Millie shrugs. “ I’m not allowed to look at it. And she won’t read it to me. She says it’s private. But she said maybe when I’m older and I can understand the stuff in it, she’ll give it to me.”

“Does she have a lot of books? In the house?”

“Lots and lots and lots. Three bookcases full! She’s going to be sad that we can’t bring them with us.”

“We’ll have to make sure we get her new ones. Maybe give her a little room just for them.”

“Like a little library?”

Tyler nods.

“Momma would love that. Books make her happy. And I want momma to be happy. She hasn’t been happy in a while. It makes me sad.”

“Why hasn’t she been happy?”

“I think mostly ‘cause of Alessio. And what a pain in the ass he is. He’s not very nice to her. He was always yelling and saying mean things to her. And me. You’re nice though. You don’t yell or say mean things.”

“You won’t have to ever worry about that. Me being mean and yelling at you and your mum. I’m only mean to people who deserve it.”

“Like Alessio? And the bad guys?”

“Exactly.”

The four-year-old chews thoughtfully on her bottom lips. “Maybe we could call momma. And make sure she’s okay. I don’t trust Alessio. And if he even touches momma a little bit…”

“Auntie Nik’s with her. She won’t let anything happen to your mum. And believe me, in a pinch? Your mum could totally take him. She’s little, but she hits pretty damn hard.”

“I’d still feel better if we talked to her. And make sure everything is alright.”

“How about we text? Just in case she’s in the middle of something and doesn’t want her phone to ring.”

“That’ll do I guess.”

She kneels on the bench and leans across the table as he slips his phone out of a pocket of his jeans; holding the device on an angle that allows her to read the text that he awkwardly composes with one finger.

“You know what you should do? You should put a heart at the beginning and the end of momma’s name. So everyone sees it.”

“Who’s going to go into my phone?”

“I don’t know. But IF they do and they see the hearts, then they know that mom is your girlfriend. And you love her.”

A grin plays on his lips. “I love her, do I?”

“You’re her boyfriend, right? You guys kissed. That means you love her, right?”

“It takes a little more than that, but…”

“And your eyes get all sparkly. Whenever you look at her. So do mom’s. When she looks at you. Seems like love to me. You do, right? Love momma? You can say so; I won’t tell her you said if you don’t want me to you. If it embarrasses you or something.”

“You can keep a secret?”

“Well, kinda. I mean, I’m not even five yet. Sometimes it’s really hard to remember what I’m not supposed to say. Like when momma tells me not to curse at school or in front of visitors. Sometimes I forget. I try telling myself ‘Millie, those are inside your head ONLY words’. But it doesn’t always work.”

“I have the same problem. I sometimes say the words I should keep in my head, too.”

“It’s really hard, right? Especially when people test your patience. Which is A LOT.”

“You’re telling me.”

“So DO you? Love momma? You can tell me, Tyler. And I promise to try really hard not to say anything to anyone.”

“I do. I love your mumma very much.”

“Does that mean you’ll be around a lot? Even after the bad guys are gone away?”

“I hope to be. I WANT to be. Would that be alright with you? If I was. I know it’s always been just you and your mum and it’s probably really hard to share her.”

“I just don’t like sharing her with assholes.”

“Has there been a lot of assholes?”

“No. Just Alessio. And he’s a big enough one. I hope you stay around. I don’t want you to go anywhere. I like having you around. You make me smile. You make momma smile too. And she’s extra beautiful when she smiles. I hope you don’t leave us. Once you’re done working.”

The emotion that surges through him is difficult to contain; tightening his chest and throat and threatening a flood of tears. It’s the realization that this precious, innocent little being loves him ‘as is’; regardless of how big and burly and intimidating and despite how heavily scarred he is both emotionally and physically. She accepts and adores him while not even knowing he’s her father; enjoying every minute of their time together and feeling safe and protected whenever he’s around. The sweet, innocent honesty behind her words make him think of his son; of that terrified man who’d once stood outside of his sick little boy’s hospital room and chose to run. And while can’t go back in time and erase what he’d done or make that up to Austi, he can at least do right by him; show that he’s learned from his mistakes and won’t ever be ‘that guy’ again.

It’s all so surreal. Overwhelming. The fact that this vibrant, incredible little human belongs to him.

‘I’ll stick around for as long as your mumma will let me.”

“Good.” A bright, beaming smile spreads across her face; crinkling the corners of her eyes and the bridge of her nose. “That means you’re NEVER gonna leave.”

*****

They share a plate of french fries -doused in plenty of white vinegar and ketchup- and a massive bowl of ice cream. Millie entertaining him the entire time; chattering away about school and all of her friends and the things she loves the most and those that she absolutely despises. Telling him all about their old apartment in Queens; the little balcony that momma had hung flower planters on and the bird feeders she put up and how the squirrels always managed to get to them first. Gushing about her want -and need- for a dog and a big backyard to go with it; somewhere they can play fetch with a tree to hang a swing on and enough room to pitch a tent and have at home ‘camping trips’. And she once again expresses the hope and desire of going to Australia; looking forward to seeing kangaroos and koalas and going to the beach.

When the food is finished and the dishes cleared, they sit in companionable silence; Tyler nursing a second cup of coffee while Millie plays a game -that she insisted he’d download- on his phone. He watches her with intense curiosity; taking in every inch of her face and every expression and use of body language. The way she tilts her head to the side while concentrating; how the tip of her tongue poking through both teeth and lips as she gives the current activity all her focus. Those thick, dark eyes lashes and those impossibly big hands with their long fingers; so nimble and quick as they seem to fly over the keyboard.

And when she’s had enough of the game, she places the phone on the table and takes a long sip of her chocolate milk; head briefly cocked to the side before she takes one of his hands in both of hers. Turning it palm down, she lays it on the table placing it on the wood below; her fingers curiously exploring his misshapen knuckles and various scars that decorate the flesh.

“How did you hurt yourself?”

“I’ve been in a few fights.”

“With bad guys?”

Tyler nods.

“Did they get hurt too?”

“They ended up a little worse than I did.”

“I bet you’re a really good fighter. And that you hit REALLY hard.”

“I can hold my own.”

“Did it hurt? When your hands got messed up?”

“A little. But I’ve had a lot worse.”

“What about this one?” Pushing herself up onto her knees, she leans across the table; a fingertip gliding over the scar that resides on the bridge of his nose.

“That’s your mum’s favourite.”

“It’s my favourite, too. I like how it makes your nose look. How’d that happen?”

“A little accident. When I was in the army.”

“What kind of accident?”

“A bomb went off. Close to where I was. I had goggles on and they broke and cut up my face. The nose was the worst.”

“You had to have stitches?”

“Quite a few.”

“I had to have some too. See?” Tilting her head back, she points to a small, barely visible scar on the bottom of her chin. “I fell in the bathtub. When I was really little. Momma just turned around to grab a towel and I tried to get out of the tub and I totally wiped out and hit my chin.”

“That must have been scary.”

“I don’t really remember it. Just what mom told me. She said there was a lot of blood. And that she cried a lot and nearly fainted. But she got it together and took me to the hospital. That’s where I got the stitches. I wish it was a cooler story, though. Like yours.”

“Maybe we should come up with one. That you can tell people when they ask about it.”

“Hmmmm…” She considers the possibilities. “Maybe I can say that a raccoon attacked me. In Central Park. We got into a fight ‘cause he tried to steal something from me. Like a hotdog or an ice cream cone or something like that. He got one good hit in and then I smoked him. That could work?”

He forces back a laugh. “It could.”

“Or…” Millie excitedly bounces up and down in her seat. “...a bear! We can say it was a bear! That we were on a camping trip and a bear tried to steal our food and I fought back!”

“Something tells me you should go with the raccoon. I think the bear thing might be a little far-fetched.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She gives a long, dramatic sigh. “Momma has scars too, you know. On her face. And on her back.”

“I know.”

He remembers the first time he’d seen the ones on her face; standing in the kitchen in that shack in the outback. Nik had left them in hopes they’d become acquainted before the job actually started; indulge in even the simplest of chit-chat that would allow them to get a pulse on one another. He’d been unusually transfixed by her; the incredibly tiny stature combined her confidence and enormous personality. Never before had he encountered anyone like her on the job; bright, bubbly, and optimistic despite being surrounded by danger and death. Finding himself enjoying her company; liking the way the sunshine made the natural red highlights in her hair glisten and how the slight tan to her skin brought out a selection of freckles splattered across the bridge of her nose. And the scars -long faded and rid of their puffiness- that marred smooth flesh.

Days later he’d encounter the ones that crisscrossed her upper back; his fingertips gliding over them as they lay in a tangled mess of naked, sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets. She’d stiffened against him at first; obviously self-conscious about their existence and the likely painful story that accompanied them. And when tears had welled in her eyes and she’d attempted to pull away, he’d simply tightened his hold on her. Showing that first hint of softness and compassion as he assured her that not only did she have nothing to be embarrassed about, but he found the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Promising her that he’d never make her feel as if she needed to hide any part of herself from him. And when she’d regained her confidence and once more relaxed in his embrace, the floodgates opened; sharing the long and agonizing story -and unsettling and horrific details- that chronicled her marriage.

It was her openness and honesty that had encouraged him to let down his guard; allowing him to talk about his son for the first time since his death. He hadn’t pulled any punches; telling her about Austin’s illness and the awful decision that he’d made prior to his passing. She was the first person who’d never looked at him like a monster and who…while still holding him accountable..sympathized with what he’d gone through. Expressing how difficult and heartbreaking it had to have been; hearing the diagnosis and then having to watch his son suffer and waste away. And as his parent, having to face not only the shortness of time and the presence of mortality, but the tremendous guilt that he couldn’t do a damn thing to fix his own flesh and blood.

“A boy did it you know,” Millie’s voice snaps him back to the present. “That’s why mommas has scars. A boy was mean to her. When she was married to him.”

“She told me. When we first met. She told him all about him. And the things he did to her.”

“I wish I could find him and kill him. For hurting my mom. I know that’s not a nice thing to say; wanting to kill someone. But it makes me really mad. That he did those things to her.”

“She’s your mum. You love her. You want to protect her. And don’t worry; I’ve wanted to kill him a few times myself.”

“We should team up! I could kick him in the shins until he falls down and then you can finish him off!”

“Something tells me your mumma wouldn’t go along with that. She’s not a hateful person. Even when someone hurts her.”

“She doesn’t have to know. Just like she doesn’t have to know that you let me have french fries AND ice cream.”

“That’s definitely a secret you’re going to have to take to the grave. I don’t think she’d be too happy knowing I filled you with junk.”

“I won’t ever tell her, I promise. But I might tell her that you love her. I bet that would make her happy.”

“How about you leave that to me? I think I should tell her that myself, don’t you?”

“It’s probably better that way.” Sitting back down in her seat, she finishes the last of her chocolate milk. “Do you have a mom?”

“No. I don’t.”

“What happened to her?”

“She died. When I was a little kid.”

“How old were you?”

“Nine.”

“That’s really young. What happened to her?”

“She was in a car accident. While I was at school.”

“That’s really sad. I’m sorry. That your momma died.” Tears well in her eyes; lower lip and her chin trembling. “That’s not fair. That’s not fair AT ALL.”

Briefly standing up, Tyler holds her arms out towards her, waiting until she’s perched upon her knees to effortlessly scoop her out of her seat. And he once more settles down on the bench; placing her sideway across his lap, her arms immediately wrapping around his neck and her head falling upon his shoulder.

“You don’t need to be sorry. It was a long time ago. And you’re just a little kid. That shouldn’t be getting upset over these things.”

“I can’t help it.” Millie reaches for the chain he wears around his neck; pulling it out from the neck of his shirt and then fidgeting with the dog tag that dangles from it. “I don’t know what I would do. If something happened to my momma.”

“It’s alright. I got you.” He rubs her back in slow, comforting circles. “Your mumma is going to be just fine. There’s no reason for you to cry.”

“ I’d miss her. I’d be really sad. For the rest of my life.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. Because nothing is going to happen to her. For a very, very, VERY long time.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know that I would do anything to protect her. From anyone and anything.”

“And me too?”

“Of course. You guys are a package deal. Can’t have one without the other, yeah?”

She sniffles noisily and nods. “I wish you’d been there. At the house. When the bad guys showed up.”

“I bet it was really scary. When it all happened.”

“I was sleeping and momma woke me up. She said we had to leave. Right away. There was lots of noise. People were yelling and swearing and there were lots of guns going off. I didn’t know that’s what it was at first. I thought it was firecrackers or something.”

“That would be pretty scary, alright. Especially for a little kid.”

“And Auntie Nik and Uncle John were there. And he wrapped me in a blanket. So the bad guys wouldn’t see me. I almost forgot Posie and Franklin. I would have been so sad if I forgot them. But momma grabbed them. And then we all ran out of the house. I saw dead bodies. Lots of them.”

“Sometimes we have to do things that we don’t always like. To protect the people we love. Auntie Nik and Uncle John did everything they could to get you and your mum out of there. And they had to get rid of some of the bad guys for it to happen.”

“I’m not sad. That they’re dead. They deserved it. Does that make me a bad person? Not being sad?”

‘No. It doesn’t make you a bad person at all. They tried to hurt you. And your mum. They don’t deserve you being sad about them.”

It was really scary. All the noise and the people chasing us. And I didn’t want to leave my house. Or all my stuff.”

“Well, now you’re going to have a new house. In a new place. And you’ll get lots of new things. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Are we going to live at your place? For good? Or just until there’s no more bad guys?”

“I’m not sure Your mum and I haven’t talked about things like that yet. For now, how about we just take it a day at a time? Worry about the bad guys first and then go from there. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

‘I’m sorry, Millie. That all of that happened. That you had to see and hear the things that you did. It’s not fair. At all.”

“I wish you’d been there. To protect me. And momma. I bet the bad guys never would have tried to hurt us. They would have been really scared of you and just left us alone. You would have scared them off, right?”

“I would have done my best, yeah.”

“Do you think they’ll come back? When we leave here? Do you think they’ll follow us to our new house?”

“I don’t think so. I think they know that would be a really, really, REALLY bad idea. But if they do, I’ll make sure nothing bad happens to you. Or your mum. You guys are safe with me, I promise. Do you trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“Come here…” Increasing his hold on her; he drops a kiss on the top of her head and then lays a hand on her cheek; slight pressure encouraging her to once more rest upon his shoulder. “Everything’s going to be alright, kiddo. I’m going to get you and mumma out of here. Away from the bad guys. For good.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Nothing is going to happen to you. Or mumma. I’ve got you, Millie. Don’t ever doubt that. I’ve got you. And I always will.”

******

“I don’t know the first thing about girls.”

They lay in Esme’s bed, on their sides facing each other, conversing in voices barely above a whisper. Millie fast asleep between them; her beloved doll and koala bear tucked under her arms and her face pressed into Tyler’s chest. She’d been woken by a nightmare an hour before; padding to her mother’s room and then panicking when she’d found the door locked. It had brought a frustrating and abrupt end to the adult activities taking place inside; both scrambling to find shirts and pants and then hastily pulling them off before answering the door. Millie had been instantly comforted to find Tyler there; racing past her mother and throwing her arms around his thighs; wasting no time in climbing and wriggling her way up his body. Tearfully chattering about the dream she’d had; a vivid and horrendous rehash of the events four nights ago. She wouldn’t hear of it when -after tucking her in beside her mother- he’d announced that he should be heading back to his own room. They had a long, tedious ‘work-centric’ day ahead of them and he was still fighting the effects of both jet lag and his oft-injured body; feeling the deep, penetrating ache of the arthritis in his knee and shoulder. But Millie had thrown a tantrum at the mere thought of him not being close by; sobbing and pleading for him to stay until she at least fell back asleep. And he hadn’t had the heart to refuse her.

Now she snores lightly with her face pressed into him; his palm resting lightly on the top of her head as his fingertips press through hair and softly massage her scalp in slow, smooth circles. His free hand lounges on Esme’s side, occasionally slipping down and following the curve of her hip and sliding back to cup her ass.

Her eyes flicker open and she places a hand on his forearm; fingernails gently and repeatedly scratching along the smooth, tanned skin. “Where did that come from?”

“Just been thinking about it. Since I met her. About how I’ve never raised a daughter. Just a son. And I didn’t get a chance to raise him for very long, so…”

“You take care of her just like you took care of him.”

“But it’s different. He was a boy. She’s a girl.”

“She’s a little kid. Just like he was.”

“But what do I DO with her? I know what to do with a boy. They like roughhousing and sports and fishing and camping and…”

“Millie likes all those things too. She loves to climb trees and get dirty and splash in mud puddles. I know she considers herself quite the diva, but she’s not your typical princess, believe me. She loves her glitter and her dolls and her manis and pedis, but she also loves her camo and her superheroes and her UFC.”

Tyler grins. “UFC? You let her watch that shit? You’re a terrible mother.”

“It’s my dirty little parenting secret. I let her watch it on my phone while I make dinner. It keeps her entertained AND out of my hair. She loves that shit.”

“She is DEFINITELY mine.”

“Well, inside I made her by myself when you weren't around or she was an immaculate conception…”

“I never meant that. What I said last night. When I accused you of being with someone else. I just lashed out. I’m not proud of it. For thinking that about you.”

“You’d had a lot dropped in your lap in a really short period of time. You were angry and hurt and overwhelmed and…”

“I know you’re not like that. A cheater. I know you’d never do that to me. To anyone. And I’m sorry. That I…”

“Tyler…” She places two fingers over his lips to silence him. “...don’t. You don’t have to apologize. I know what you get like when you’re angry or you’re feeling overwhelmed or you’re anxious; you lash out and you say things you don’t mean.”

“I don’t want to be like that. Not with you. And especially not with Millie.”

“It’s something we can work on. Together. When all of this is over and there isn’t so much on your plate. It DID hurt. At the time. But I’m not holding it against you. I never would. So please…” Mindful of the little body between them, she leans in to press a kiss to his lips. “...don’t dwell. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“I know right away she was mine. As soon as I saw her. There was no doubt in my mind.”

“She’s always been just like you. Even when she was in my belly. My last ultrasound before she was born, they took a picture of her profile and I saw you right away. I was like ‘Now that’s a Rake baby if I’ve ever seen one’. The forehead, the ear, the chin, even your nose. Well, the part that HASN’T been broken.”

“Are you saying my kid’s ugly?”

“I’m saying she’s beautiful. Just like her dad.”

“You know normally I wouldn’t let you get away with using that word when it comes to me, but…”

“I tried so hard. To be happy. I was finally getting what I always wanted; a chance to be a mom. But it was hard. So damn hard. Because that is NOT how I wanted it to happen. I didn’t want to be going through all of that alone. I wanted you to be there. I wanted us to be doing all of that together.”

“I’m sorry it couldn’t be that way. Because I would have been there. In a heartbeat. If you’d called me and told me about her, I would have been on the first flight. No questions asked. No grudges held.”

“I almost texted you so many times. Especially right after she was born. I could never bring myself to go through with it, though. I couldn’t do that to you; put you on The High Table’s radar. I never would have forgiven myself; if something had happened to you because of my mistakes. And I AM sorry, Tyler. That I didn’t act sooner. After the coast was clear. I never meant to…”

“Now who’s dwelling?”

“I have a lot to make up for. It’s not something that’s going to be instantly fixed. It’s going to take a long time for us to get past it. If we ever really do.”

“We just work on it a day at a time. And yeah, on some of those days, things are going to be shittier than others. Doesn’t mean we’re not going to get past it. I think if we can get past Dhaka, we can get it past anything.”

“That’s an entirely different situation. I didn’t betray you in Dhaka. I didn’t keep your kid from you. I didn’t…”

“You had your reasons. I’m still trying to understand them. But I’m getting there.”

“I wouldn’t change things. At least not the first year. I KNOW I did the right thing. Keeping you safe. But as for the rest of it…”

“We can worry about the rest of it some other time. We don’t have to try to fix things in the first forty-eight hours, do we? Are we on some kind of deadline? Does it have to be done before we leave New York City?”

“No. I just thought that maybe the sooner the better. The sooner we talk about it…I mean REALLY talk about it and you get everything you need to say out in the open…”

“I’ve said what I need to say. To you. What more do you want to hear?”

“I want to hear that you forgive me. That you don’t hate me. That you…”

“I DO forgive you. I wouldn’t be here right now if I didn’t. If I hated you, do you think I would have struck around? When I saw you were the client?”

“I mean, there was a lot of money involved…”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if it was all the money in the world. If I hated you, I would have been gone. I have never hated you. Not even for a single goddamn second.”

“You had plenty of reasons to. And I would haven’t blamed you. If you did.”

“I NEVER hated you,” he sternly repeats. “I love you. I always have. I always will. Don’t ever doubt that, Me.”

Smiling, she reaches up to brush his bangs off his forehead. Then uses a nail to lightly trace the length of the scar on the left side of his brow. “I missed hearing that. That nickname.”

“I missed saying it.”

Her fingertips trace the outer edge of his ear and then follow the line of his jaw. Passing over scars and through the wiry hair of his beard before taking his chin between index digit and thumb and kissing him softly. She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose, enjoying his familiar smell and the heat that radiates off his body. His one hand continues the massaging of Millie’s scalp while the other slips up Esme’s t-shirt; calloused fingertips gliding back and forth across the small of her back. And with a long, content sigh, her palm slides to the nape of his neck; nails lightly and repeatedly scraping along the bottom of his hairline.

“Do you really let her watch UFC?

Esme laughs. “I told you; she loves that shit. And she’s quite the fighter. She’s been known to lay a beat down on a bully.”

“That’s my girl.”

“She is definitely her father’s daughter. She’s got your temper. And your left hook.”

“Means I won’t worry about her so much. As she’s growing up. She’ll be able to handle her own; if some guy gets a little too…comfortable…with her.”

“Who are you kidding? You’re totally going to be an overprotective dad. Every time she goes out on a date, you’ll wait for her. Sit out on the front porch, cleaning your gun. Maybe even more than one.”

“Date? Bold of you to assume I’m even going to let her.”

“You can’t keep her locked away in the house forever.”

“You just watch me.”

“And you just watch her totally rebel against you. Shave all her hair or get a neon green mohawk and tons of piercings and tattoos. Date some total badass that wears head-to-toe leather and drives a Harley and has a criminal record as long as your arm.”

“You seem to forget that I know how to kill a man a hundred different ways with my bare hands. I also know how to hide the evidence. And the body.”

“Or maybe she’ll go in the opposite direction and date a guy like you.”

“You realize that’s worse, yeah? That I’d rather the biker?”

“Oh yeah, because you’re just such a terrible catch. You’re just absolutely hideous and mean as fuck and you smell awful.”

“I kill people. For money.”

“No. You don’t. You help people. And sometimes killing is part of it. A means to an end.”

“You always did try and romanticize it.”

“You may not be a perfect man, but you’re a GOOD man. And despite what you think of yourself for a decision you made years ago, you’re going to be a great dad. You already are.”

“I just worry I won’t know what to do with her. That I won’t know what she likes or doesn’t like or…”

“Just follow her lead. She’ll tell you everything you need to know, believe me. Millie is NOT shy. She is definitely not afraid to speak her mind. In the slightest. That kid has absolutely no chill.”

“Gets that from her mother.”

“I don’t know, her father might not say too much, but when he does…” Her voice trails off when Millie stirs yet doesn’t wake; sighing and mumbling in her sleep as she rubs her face against her father’s t-shirt. And she runs a hand over her daughter’s hair and drops a kiss on the top of her head. “She’s everything I ever wanted. And the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Aside from her dad, of course.”

“You’ve done good, Me. With her. I know it wasn’t easy; going through all of that alone and being a single mum. And I know that’s not how you wanted things to be.”

“All I wanted was you. And all those things we talked about; when it came to settling down and starting a family. I always thought we’d go through it together; having a baby. And if there was any way I could have changed things, I would. If there’d been a way for you to be there AND be safe….?”

“You’re an amazing mum. I always knew you would be. But everything you’ve done for her? On your own? You’re a fucking superhero.”

“Hardly. I’ve just done what I’ve had to do. Devoted everything I have to being her mom. Wouldn’t any woman do that?”

“No. They wouldn’t. Not considering the circumstances. A lot wouldn’t have even gone through with it; having the baby at all.”

“It was never an option. I was having her regardless of anything going on around me. I was finally going to be a mom. Something I had wanted for so long. And she was all I had that belonged to you. The only connection to that part of my life. There was no way I could have let that go.”

Her honesty hits hard and deep; emotion tightening his chest and his throat. The anger and hurt replaced by something far more viable and useful; a mixture of love and adoration and pride. And there’s a distinct feeling of absolute awe and amazement; faced with the realization that her love for him was -and still is- that profound. That despite the obstacles she was facing and the danger she was constantly in, she was more than willing to put it all on the line to bring his child…THEIR child…into the world.

“I need to be totally transparent,” she says, and chews on her bottom lip. “Completely honest with you. It’s not going to be easy for me; getting used to parenting with someone. It’s just been Millie and I all this time; I’ve been the only one making decisions when it comes to her. So if I ever feel challenged and I lash out, please don’t take it personally, Tyler. It isn’t you. It’s me. It’s going to take me some time. To realize it’s not just me anymore.”

“We’ve both got our things to work on. I’m still trying to wrap my head around being a girl dad. That’s a little…scary.”

“Maybe it’s karma. For those years of sowing your wild oats. And not always knowing where and who spread them with.”

“At least karma wasn’t in the form of an STD.”

“Bright side, I guess. And you’re going to be just fine; as a girl dad. Look how good you’re already doing with her. How much she adores you. And she doesn’t even know the truth yet.”

“I just don’t want to fuck this up. I have to do it right this time. I NEED to do it right.”

“And you WILL. I’m not even the slightest bit worried about it. She’s so attached to you. All she talks about when you’re not around is ‘Tyler this, Tyler that’ or ‘can we call Tyler?’ ‘can Tyler come over?’ It’s constant.”

“See? She has more in common with you than you think. You’re both obsessed with me.”

“I don’t know it’s an obsession, but…” (brushes his bangs off his forehead) “...we think you’re kinda awesome. We’re pretty nuts about you. And while I’m thinking about it, there’s something else I need to apologize for.”

“Esme…”

“This…” She nods down at Millie. “...is NOT what I had in mind. When I asked you to stay.”

“I’m sure it won’t be the first time she cock blocks me.”

“Well, we COULD try again. IF you want. You could put her back in her own bed. See how long she lasts there. Unless you’d rather take a long, cold shower and handle things yourself…”

“I think I’ll take my chances putting her in her own bed.”

“How did I ever know you were going to say that?” Esme chides, then presses a kiss to the top of Millie’s temple before rolling onto her back; watching as he gingerly peels himself away from their daughter’s sleeping form and slowly slides out of bed. Effortlessly scooping her -and both her doll and teddy- up into his arms and holding her tight to his chest, placing his lips tenderly on her brow and whispering “It’s alright. I got you” when she sleepily protests.

So many times over the course of her pregnancy and Millie’s four years on earth she’d imagined this moment; bearing witness to this big, strong man cuddling and caring for their child. Those hands -enormous and calloused and scarred with their misshapen knuckles- cradling her just so perfectly and protectively. Tears welling in her eyes and pride tugging at her chest as she sees that stunning juxtaposition between ‘mercenary Tyler’ and ‘home Tyler’; his eyes and his voice and his entire being taken over by a softness once reserved solely for her. This beautiful yet damaged and physically and mentally weary man who can easily take a life, yet is capable of so much tenderness and love.

And the moment is everything she’d never dreamed of. And hoped for.

*******

The second attempt is successful; slow and attentive foreplay followed by languid and tender sex. The kind that comes with not only phenomenal patience and deep and profound love and adoring, but tremendous knowledge in every inch of your lover’s body AND mind. Yet somehow still managing to feel like an entirely new experience; the five years that have separated them now sending them on a shared journey of re-discovery. There’s an exciting newness that accompanies the delicious familiarity. Both able to spot the changes to each other’s physical forms; the extra weight and the added scars and those faint stretch marks that pay testament to when she’d carried human life inside of her.

She rests on her side; tightly tucked into him as he lays on his back with an arm around her waist. Her arm draped lazily across his collarbone and her face pressed into the favourite spot between neck and shoulder; enjoying the way his fingertip slowly and methodically trace the elaborate tattoo that stretches from one of her hips to the other. Both are exhausted; their bodies blissfully spent and covered in thin sheets of sweat. the wrinkled top sheet pulled up just below his navel.

Placing his free hand on her shoulder, his calloused fingertips travel down smooth, silky skin; stopping when they reach the base of her wrist. “I should go.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s really late. Or really early. Depending on how you want to look at it.”

“I don’t mean that. I mean why ‘should’ you? You don’t HAVE to. No one is forcing you to leave. Wouldn’t you rather stay here? Don’t you WANT to stay here?”

“Of course I do. What kind of question is that? I just thought we weren’t doing that yet? Thought you said it was too soon?”

“I changed my mind.” She presses a long, lingering kiss to that sensitive spot below his left earlobe. “We’ve already gone five years. Let’s not go even another five minutes.”

“You think it’s a good idea?”

“The only other people staying in this suite are Nik and Abuela. And they already know what’s going on with us.”

“I was thinking more about Millie. And how she likes to come in here and snuggle with her mum.”

“We just need to be proactive and put on some kind of clothes before we fall asleep. Preferably below the waist. Save the awkwardness.”

“I didn’t wear any underwear today.”

Esme gives a derisive snort. “Colour me surprised. Isn’t that ninety-eight percent of your days?”

“More like fifty-fifty now. Have you ever tried fighting a fire with no underwear on?”

“Can’t say I have. Is it like that Christmas song? About nuts roasting on an open fire?”

Pushing a hand through her hair, Tyler tugs on her dark tresses, encouraging her to look at him. “What is wrong with you?”

“You mean right now? Or in general?”

Smirking, he plants a kiss on the bridge of her nose. “Won’t it be awkward if she finds me here? When she just comes walking in?”

“She’ll just chalk it up to something boyfriends and girlfriends do together. Sleep in the same bed.”

“If she asks any questions later in the day…”

“I’ll answer them. I’m used to her level of curiosity and her freakish powers of observation. She gets that from you, you know. Her ability to break down a situation in five seconds flat. Notice even the smallest of details, read peoples’ expressions and body language.”

“You were always really good at that stuff too. Let’s face it, you didn’t get to be as good at your job WITHOUT being a pro at them.”

“I mean, I must not be too shabby. It only took me about fifteen seconds after meeting you to know you were a huge softy.”

“I am going to pretend I never heard you say that.”

“You can hide it from everyone else, Tyler Rake. But you can’t hide it from me. You’ve never been able to.”

“I thought you wanted me to stay? You keep talking like that…”

“Still so difficult,” she grumbles.

“I wouldn’t be me if I wasn’t.”

“You mean an insufferable pain in my ass?” she chides, and yelps when he aggressively pinches one of her butt cheeks.

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes, I am. Especially considering…”

“We’re not going there. We’ve talked about that enough for one night. I don’t care what we talk about. Sports, the weather, the job even. Just not THAT.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. Will you?” She presses a kiss to one corner of his mouth, then the other. “Stay?”

“Of course. Did you really think I was going to say no?”

“Maybe you’d gotten used to sleeping alone. Or maybe because it’s a different body in bed with you all of a sudden…”

“Delaney and I never got to that stage. Not really. Only happened once. At my place, anyway.”

“You never stayed overnight? At hers?”

“A few times. I didn’t make it a habit.”

“She didn’t want you to? Or was it more a ‘you’ thing?”

“It was a total ‘me thing’. I didn’t want to be there. It didn’t feel right. I just wasn’t invested, I guess. Just seemed too…I don’t know…serious.”

“You didn’t think of things that way? Serious?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“I’m curious. About what you’ve been up to. Outside of the job. I knew that you had a girlfriend, but…”

“I wouldn’t even call her that. She called herself that, mind you. And it was alright, I guess. The time we did spend together. Sure as hell beat feeling lonely all the time.”

“But…”

“I told you this last night.”

“Humour me.”

“But I just couldn’t let myself go further than that. I just didn’t feel anything. For her. And yeah, I made her think I did and I’m pretty sure she was hoping she was going to get a lot more out of me…”

“Marriage, you mean? Kids?”

He nods.

“And you didn’t want all of that?”

“Not with her.”

“Did you ever tell her that? That you weren’t as into her as she was into you?”

“I dropped enough hints, believe me. She should have picked up on it a long time ago.”

“Some of us need to be hit over the head with the obvious. Or maybe she was just hoping you’d change your mind. That the longer she held in there, you’d soften up and realize she was ‘the one’.”

“The one?” He chuckles incredulously. “She is far from being ‘the one’. And if you dare ask me who ‘the one’ is, we’re going to have problems.”

“I already know your ex-wife was your one true love.”

He scowls. “Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding….I’m kidding….” Tousling his hair, she pecks the corner of his mouth. “I KNOW it’s me. You made that perfectly five years ago. I just thought maybe you’d changed your mind since then. That considering everything that happened…”

“Quiet,” he orders, and wraps both arms around her tiny, slender frame; effortlessly pulling her on top of him, hands locking together at the small of her back, “Please.”

“Right…right…no talking about THAT.” She lays her forearm across his chest, then places her chin on top of it. “You are going to call her right?”

“Why would I need to call my ex-wife?”

With a roll of her eyes, she sighs in exasperation. “Delaney.”

“Before we take off, I will call her. Tell her about you. And Millie.”

“That last part will be the biggest shock of all, I bet. How do you think she’ll take it? When you tell her about me? Our history? The fact that I’m suddenly back in your life and taking her place?”

“She took YOUR place.”

“If none of this had ever happened, if I never had Nik call you about this job, would you have just moved on? Just settled with what you have?”

“I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. Would you have really shown up? With Millie? You said that was the plan all along. Would you have really done it?”

“I told myself that before she turned five, I would tell you about her. Whether it was a phone call at first or if I did just show up on your doorstep.”

“You just stopped being scared that I’d turn you away or…?”

“About a year ago, Millie started asking about her dad. Not like she was before; when it was just once or twice a year. It became almost every day. She didn’t understand; why all her little friends at school had daddies and she didn’t. She wanted to know where he was. What he looked like. Why didn’t he want her?”

Tyler sighs heavily.

“I told her that he lived far away. And that he was a good man. A REALLY good man. And that he never knew about her. That I found out she was in my belly after things went bad. And that I couldn’t tell him. That I had to protect him AND her. But that IF I’d called him and told him, he would have been in her life. No questions asked.”

“And she was fine with all that?”

“At first. The questions would stop for a week or two. And then she’d come right back and ask the same things all over again. She’s so smart, Tyler. She is so very, very, VERY smart. She’d put two and two together; wanted to know what or who I had to protect you from.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her that before I met her dad, I’d run into some trouble with some really bad people. And that they came looking for me and told me that if I didn’t do what they wanted, they’d hurt him. Or worse. And I couldn’t let that happen. She understood; that I didn’t have a choice. It made her sad; that her mom and dad couldn’t be together. She’s so much like you; such a big heart in that body of hers. She feels so profoundly. So deeply.”

“I think she gets that from both of us.”

“I told her that I loved her dad very much.” Esme continues, her voice trembling with emotion as tears glisten in her eyes. “ I loved him with everything I was and everything I had. And that killed me to leave him. And I still loved him. I always would.”

“Don’t do that” he pleads, and releases his hold on her; hands gliding up her back and across her shoulders before cradling her cheeks in his palms. “Don’t cry. You know I’ve always hated that.”

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about this? Aren’t you the one who has been on my ass for bringing it up?”

“This time was totally my fault. I’m sorry. Come here.” He gathers her into his embrace, an arm wrapped tightly around her waist and a palm on the back of her head; drawing it down upon his shoulder once more. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He presses his lips to her temple. “I’m an asshole.”

“Some things are just harder to talk about. Some of it hurts way too much. Even now.”

“Which is why we don’t need to talk about it. Not right away.”

Sniffling, she nestles her face into the side of his neck once more and then reaches up to push a hand into his hair; allowing the longer top strands to repeatedly slip through her fingers. And for several minutes they lay in silence, listening to one another’s soft, rhythmic breathing while she continues to play with his dirty blond tresses and his knuckles repeatedly skim up and down the entire length of her spine.

Tyler’s voice cuts through the quiet; yanking her back from the edge of sleep. “I guess this isn’t a good time to ask about Alessio.”

“What’s there to ask? You know everything there is to know about him.”

“I was talking more about your little chat with him today. Must have gone alright; you weren’t in a shitty mood when Millie and I got back. What DID he want?”

“Just to vent. He’s pissed. Emasculated. Wants justice for his bruised ego and his shitty family.”

“Hope you didn’t give him any. Because fuck him. And fuck them too.”

“I just humoured him; listened to what he had to say. Which was just a lot of whiny bullshit. Part of me gets why he’s being a little piss baby; putting all of that work into a relationship and loving someone and finding out it was never real. But a bigger part of me says it was just a job. He was a mark. And I had to do whatever it took to get the information. And sometimes, people get hurt. It is what it is.”

“And that’s it? That’s all he wanted? Just to bitch?”

“Pretty much.” Pressing a kiss to his temple, she nuzzles his ear with the tip of her nose. “ He wanted to vent and I was the one he wanted to torture with it.”

“He didn’t threaten you or anything like that? ‘Cause if he did….”

“Nothing more than ‘you don’t know what you’ve done and who you’ve pissed off’ and ‘you’ll never get out of the city alive’. Nothing I haven’t heard before. Like, get some new content, Jesus.”

“Just trying to put the scare into ya.”

‘Well, it takes A LOT more than that.”

“And you’d tell me? If worse was said? If he brought up worse stuff about you? Or Millie? You’d…?”

“Tyler…” Raising her head from his shoulder, she silences him with a kiss. “...I would DEFINITELY tell you. He was just hurt and wanted to lash out. So I let him do it. Nothing more, nothing less. Now…” She rolls over onto her side; presenting him with her back and then reaching behind her from one of his hands. “...I’ve thoroughly had my brains fucked out and I’m exhausted. You know what that means?”

Heaving a dramatic sigh, he moves onto his side; an arm stretched across her pillow and a hand on her stomach. The latter he uses to draw her even tighter across him; eyes closing and his lips meeting the back of her head as she pushes her fingers through his. “Thought you might have grown out of this.”

“‘Never. And I’ve missed it. You’re the best snuggle partner. EVER.”

“Something else I’m going to have to pretend I never heard you say.”

“You can’t fool me, big, bad, mercenary man. I know you enjoy it just as much as I do.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“I know you better than you know yourself. Does it make you feel if I promise to never tell anyone you’re into this sort of thing?”

“No.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” she vows, and turns her face into his; accepting a long, slow kiss before once more settling her head upon her pillow. “I love you.”

“I love YOU. And don’t worry; we’re gonna be okay.”

“In our private life or when it comes to the job?”

Tightening his hold on her hand, he buries his face in her hair; his eyes closing as he inhales that familiar, welcoming scent. “Both.”

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found -Chapter 13

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. Although you do not need to read the others to understand this one)

Warnings:  profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @thesirenrealm @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @karimac @starryeyes2000 @timbradfordsboot @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @arrthurpendragon​

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/120781585

​My tag list is OPEN. Just give me a shout if you’d like to added :)

******

“Which one is your favourite?” Millie inquires, as they sit side by side in a corner booth; tucked away from the breakfast rush that’s invaded The Continental’s dining area. “Pancakes, waffles, or French Toast?”

Tyler rifles through the plastic container of crayons open in front of him, selecting a blue and a red, then returning to the sheet of paper spread across the table. “Pancakes.”

“Me too! With lots of butter and syrup! But sometimes, I’ll put strawberry jam on them. Have you ever had that? It’s delish.”

“I haven’t. Guess it’s something I’ll have to try.”

“Maybe when we’re at your house, we can make pancakes together. Momma and I do that every Sunday morning. I get to stand on a chair and help. Mom ALWAYS lets me stir the batter. But the pancakes are never very good ‘cause she isn’t the best cook in the world and…”

“Hey!” Esme objects, and reaches across the table to playfully tug on one of her daughter’s pigtails. “I am sitting right here.”

“I’m sorry, mom. I love you. Bunches. But you can’t cook for shit.”

“I’ve somehow managed to keep you alive for four years, haven’t I? My food can’t be THAT bad.”

“I mean, it’s not horrible. But it’s not great either. I can STILL eat it. Just sometimes I have to pretend it tastes like something else. So I CAN get it down.”

“You’re a savage, you know that.”

“I woke up today and chose violence.”

“How about choosing NOT to throw me under the bus?”

“You always tell me that honesty is the best policy. And I was just being honest, so…” She sips at her chocolate milk and then addresses Tyler once more. “Momma is a really awesome baker though! She always makes my birthday cakes and sends cupcakes or cake pops to school with me so my class can have some goodies too! She bakes all kinds of awesome stuff. Brownies and cookies and pies. And these really yummy things made with mushed-up frosted flakes and chocolate and marshmallows. She even sells her stuff sometimes. At the market near our old place.”

“We used to live in Queens,” Esme explains, when Tyler looks to her for clarification. “We had an apartment there. A walk up in an old brownstone. There’s a little pop-up market every Saturday. I would spend the better part of a week baking and then Millie and I would go to the market on the weekend and make some money. We don’t do it as much anymore now that we live…LIVED…in Manhattan.”

“It was a lot of fun! I loved going to the market,” Millie says. “‘Cause when momma sold all her stuff, we’d walk around and she’d buy me all kinds of goodies that other people were selling. Treaties and stuff. This was this lady there that made dresses and hats and even dolls. She made me Posie for my third birthday. See…” Reaching, for the doll that rests between her and the wall, the four-year-old proudly places it on the tabletop. A Holly Hobby inspired creation; sandy blond hair made from yarn, a purple and pink paisley dress and matching hat, and pink vinyl shoes.. “...this is Posie. Momma had her made to look just like me.”

Tyler shows the doll his full attention; Millie anxiously awaiting his admiration and praise. “She’s beautiful. Just like you. Pink and purple are your favourite colours?”

“They’re my top two. But I like other colours, too. Blue and green and orange. And camo. I know that’s not a colour, but I really like it. Especially the one that makes you look like GI Joe.”

“You know who GI Joe is?”

“Yup. I have a whole box full of them! Momma got them at the secondhand place.” Her smile diminishes and her eyes darken; lips forming a pout. “But they didn’t get brought with us. When we had to leave the house. I wish we could go and get them. And some of my other stuff. Auntie Nik says we can’t; ‘cause the bad guys will find us there. But I really miss my stuff.”

“Maybe we can get Uncle Yaz to go and get some of your stuff,” Esme suggests. “He can take a couple of people with him to make sure he doesn’t get hurt. But we can’t bring EVERYTHING, baby. I wish we could.”

“And if we can’t bring it, we’ll get it for you,” Tyler adds. “When we get wherever we’re going. Maybe you can make a list? Of all the stuff you miss and you really want? Can you do that for me? Because I don’t know much about little girls and what they like.”

“I can do that. I like all kinds of stuff. Girl stuff, boy stuff. Momma says I can play with whatever toys I want and that it’s stupid that society puts labels on things like toys and clothes.”

“Your mum’s a very smart lady.”

“Momma always says that I’m the Millie I’m supposed to be. That the things I like and make me happy are part of me. Part of my personality. And no one should take those away from me.”

“No. They shouldn’t.”

“And she says to never let anyone dull my sparkle, right mom?”

“I don’t think anyone ever could, sweet pea. You’ve got way too much sparkle for anyone to take away. And if they tried and I caught them doing it…”

“You’d punch them in the face!”

“Well I might not resort to violence, but…”

“Alessio? That guy momma was gonna marry? He always complained about my sparkle. He didn’t call it THAT, but he always bitched and moaned about my clothes and how loud I am and how much I love to sing and dance. And you know what he did one day? He threw out my shoes! My favourite ones!”

“She’s been wearing those same Spiderman sandals since she was almost three,” Esme tells Tyler. “I always buy a couple pairs at a time; one a bit bigger for when she sizes up.”

“I LOVE these shoes!” Millie enthuses. “They’re comfy and they’re cute and they light up. Alessio didn’t like them. He said they were for boys! But momma told him it didn’t matter. That girls love superheroes too! And I can wear whatever I want! And you know what he did? The big, fat jerk! He waited until momma and I were asleep and he threw my shoes out! I couldn’t find them in the morning and I was really sad! I cried. A lot. They were my favourite. They fit just right.”

Esme reaches for one of the carafes in the middle of the table, pouring herself a second cup of tea. “And what happened next? When momma found out what Alessio did?”

“You went and bought me two new pairs. And told Alessio to never pull that kind of shit ever again!”

Tyler grins. Esme’s never been afraid to speak her mind; never threatened or intimidated no matter how big and bad her opponent is. He’d learned that the hard way; finding himself the target of her ire in Dhaka. When he’d had the nerve to ‘pull rank’ and ‘man-splain’. “Your mumma takes good care of you, huh?”

“ She doesn’t let anyone mess with me. And if they try? She gets really mad. And she doesn’t back down. She’s little, but I bet she could kick some serious ass!”

“Oh, I know she could. I’ve seen it. What she gets like when she’s angry. Or she’s trying to protect the people she loves. She’s a good mumma?”

“Best mumma ever! We do a lot of cool stuff together. We go for manis and pedis, we go to the library to look for books and play in the kids’ section. We go to museums and the movies. And you know what my favourite thing is? When we go to Central Park. We always take a picnic. And we sit by the fountain and go for a walk and go and feed the ducks. That’s the best part. I love the ducks. Do you have ducks in Australia?”

“We do. We even have some rare ones you can’t find anywhere else in the world.”

“Do you think maybe you could take me to see them? If we go to your house? I’d really like to see the ducks. And feed them. Do you think we could?”

“I think we could arrange something, yeah. And we can go to the zoo. Feed some joeys, see some koalas. Maybe hold one. I don’t think your mumma would mind. If we did stuff like that.”

“Can we, mumma? Please? Can we go to the zoo? I want to feed the joeys and hold a koala! Can we go there?”

“I definitely think we could do that.” Esme returns Tyler’s smile from across the table, and then briefly and inconspicuously lays her hand on top of his. Giving it a light, loving squeeze before she runs her nails along the length of his fingers.

She enjoys this quiet, unassuming closeness. An intimacy that’s pure and beautiful and reserved solely for each other. The glances exchanged, their feet touching under the table, their hands in close enough proximity to each other they often come in contact. It’s the honeymoon stage; that blissful, relaxed contentment that comes with getting to know someone and falling head over heels in love. But there’s an extra layer to their story; two people who had found acceptance and solace in one another during the most difficult and stressful of times and somehow survived the unimaginable. Dhaka had created a powerful bond between them; one that not even The High Table had managed to erase. Now they’ve started down a new path; friends and lovers who managed to find their way back to each other. And are now caught up in a whirlwind of rediscovery.

When the waitress departs after refilling drinks and taking orders, Millie and Tyler fall into a companionable silence; both concentrating on their ‘masterpieces’. It’s quite the juxtaposition compared to their surroundings and the original reason for his visit to New York; surrounded by men and women engrossed in the criminal world yet somehow managing to create this comfortable, happy space. This powerful and intimidating man with his scars and tattoos and his demons devoting his full attention to the little girl beside him; Millie occasionally glancing at him with a mixture of fascination and pure, unadulterated affection. A connection established since the moment they’d laid eyes on each other the day before; Tyler shocked and overwhelmed by the news that he was a father again and Millie awed and intrigued by the ‘giant’ that loomed over her. And she’s become incredibly attached to him in such a short period of time; putting all of her faith and trust into him and believing his promise to keep her and momma safe from the bad guys.

In return, he’s indulged every one of her whims since that initial hug only forty minutes ago. One of those enormous, strong hands swallowing her much tinier, fragile one when she reached for him; chattering away as she skipped happily alongside him as they headed for the elevator. Immediately obliging when she asked to be carried on his shoulders; giggling as she was lifted high into the air and then wrapping both arms around his neck and resting her chin on the top of his head. And he didn’t blink an eye when she abandoned her original seat at the booth in favour of climbing up next to him. Joining her in drawing and colouring and patiently answering all of her questions about Australia, allowing her to creep closer and closer to him until she eventually settled upon his thigh.

Millie is currently perched upon her knees with both arms wrapped around one of his biceps; quietly and intently watching the drawing that he works so diligently on. Those big hands with all their scars and calluses and misshapen knuckles and their ability to take a life creating something beautiful and ‘just for her’. It’s a side of him even Esme has never seen before; a loving and devoted father that willingly ignores societal norms in order to make his little one happy.

She had seen the potential inside of him during those five days in Dhaka; the seemingly fearless mercenary lowering his guard and showing her all his broken and aching parts. A grief-stricken and guilt laden man; willingly putting his own life on the line to save others not because of the money involved, but as repentance for the mistakes he’d made. There’d been a gentleness to him that she’d never experienced with another man. The way he’d cradle her face in his palms when he kissed her, that slow, adoring way his eyes would search every inch of her face. the tenderness in his fingertips when he’d smooth hair away from her cheeks and tuck loose strands behind her ears. There were layers to him that he’d never allowed another to explore; instead choosing to hide behind all of his rough and tattered edges and his strong, intimidating physique. But he’d granted her access to even the deepest and darkest of places; spilling secrets and regrets and allowing himself to be vulnerable. He hadn’t been a horrible husband or father by any stretch of the imagination. What he had been was damaged and traumatized; a lifetime of nightmarish circumstances that had made it impossible for him to deal with the reality of his son’s illness and impending death.

“Everyone deserves a second chance,” she had said, when he’d asked her why she was being so kind. So understanding. Why didn’t she see him as the monster that everyone painted him as? He killed people for a living, after all. He’d abandoned his child when he’d needed his father the most. How could she NOT look at him with pure and utter disgust?

*****

She watches him with that second chance now; nursing a cup of tea as she muses on how alike father and daughter truly are. The exact same colour and texture of hair, the long limbs and impossibly big hands and feet, those brilliant blue eyes that can grow so dark and stormy when frustration or anger settle in. And how, while dedicated to a task, those eyes narrow; intently focused with their lips slightly parted and their brows furrowed.

“You are soooo good!” Millie gushes, as she peers down at the paper. “I want to draw like that! I’m alright at it, but I’m not great or anything.”

“You’re only four. You have lots of time to get better at it.”

“You don’t look like the type that would be an artist.”

“No? What type do I look like?”

“The type that kicks serious, big time ass!”

“Well, I do THAT too. I do lots of things, actually. I have lots of different skills.” A grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, he shoots Esme a wink. “Just ask your mum.”

Eyes widening, Esme directs a kick to his shin.

“You know what I don’t understand?” Millie inquires, oblivious to the behaviour of the others at the table. “I don’t understand how you and momma met. How you became friends. If momma was living here and you were living in Australia, how’d you even meet?”

“Tyler and I were both working for Auntie Nik,” Esme explains, flashing the waitress an appreciative smile as she replaces empty carafes with full, fresh ones. “And she needed us to help her find someone.”

“Where’d you have to find them?”

“Somewhere far away. In a place called Bangladesh.”

“Where’s that?”

“Far, far away. On the other side of the world.”

“Was it a boy or girl?”

“A boy.” Tyler reaches for his coffee. “A teenager.”

“What was his name?”

“You ask a lot of questions.”

“You have to set the scene. I need to know details.”

“His name was Ovi.” Esme begins tidying the table; dropping crayons back into their carrying case; a retro metal Transformers lunch box Millie had spied in a second-hand store and just had to have.

“Why did he need to be found, momma? What happened to him?”

“Some bad people took him. And didn’t want to give him back unless they were paid a lot of money.”

“Why did the bad people take him?”

“Because his dad was a bad person, too. And they wanted to cause trouble with him.”

“But WHY? Just to be mean?”

“It’s a long story. And not one for little ears. They took Ovi because they wanted to hurt his dad. Who was just as bad of a person as they were. And when no one could find where Ovi was, Auntie Nik got called into things.”

“And she asked you and Tyler to help? Why you guys?”

“Because I find people. I go places and ask all kinds of questions and track them down. And then I give guys like Tyler that information and he goes and rescues them. Remember what I told you? About teamwork?”

‘Teamwork is dream work!”

“Exactly. And because these people were so bad, I needed to have someone keep an eye on me. So I wouldn’t get hurt.”

Completely invested and desperate for more information, Millie lifts up Tyler’s arm and slips under it. Climbing into his lap, she places a hand on his cheek and turns his face towards her. “You were momma’s bodyguard then too?”

“I was. And you know what? It was the hardest job I’ve ever had. Because your mum? She is stubborn as hell. She refused to listen to a word I said. I almost told her to find her own way home and left her there.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t listen to you,” Esme argues. “I just thought you thought what you were saying was…how do I put this gently…stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“That and I was in my ‘I won’t let any man tell me what to do’ stage,” she chides, and shoots him a playful wink. “You weren’t getting away with it. And it didn’t matter how hot you were.”

“Were? Past tense? WERE? First, you call me fat and now you’re saying I’m ugly?”

“Momma!” Millie gasps in horror. “You called Tyler fat?! That’s not nice. You’re not supposed to say things like that about people! I mean, I know he’s a little chubby, but…”

“Chubby?” He lightly pinches the four-year-old’s sides. “Whose side are you on anyway? Calling me chubby.”

“I’m on your side! I am! I really am! But…”

Millie squeals when he tickles her and then dissolves into hysterics; eyes closing and her entire body arching against him when his fingers dig lightly into her stomach. Her laughter travelling throughout the restaurant and drawing attention; a handful of disapproving frowns and whispers mixed in with amused eyes and broad smiles. The first child to ever need protection within The Continental’s walls, many of the staff and clientele remember her as an infant; watching that blue-eyed, chubby-cheeked little girl go from a newborn in her mother’s arms to a baby just weeks shy of her first birthday. When the dust had cleared and it was safe to finally leave, they’d moved to Queens; into a quaint and cozy two-bedroom apartment that Nik had furnished and paid the first year's rent on. After that, they’d had no reason to return to The Continental. Extra money earned doing intel work from home while Esme devoted everything she had to raising her daughter and making sure she was loved and provided for.

She’d spent years longing to be a mother, and Mark’s abuse and the eventual disintegration of her marriage had left her incredibly jaded and wary of ever trusting a man again. She had tried to convince herself that perhaps it was just the way things were meant to be; she wasn’t destined to have a child and instead would throw herself into her work and find contentment and fulfilment in the few friendships she managed to maintain. Yet there’d always been an emptiness and a longing she couldn’t quite explain; a need for a different life in a different place, surrounded by different people. And she’d been so close to breaking free. Setting a firm ‘six-month exit strategy’; giving it half a year before moving to Scotland and living with a long-lost cousin until she was able to get on her feet.

And then Nik had called, offering her the Dhaka job.

It had been too good to resist. A massive payday and an assurance from Nik that once it was over, she was officially ‘off the books’. There’d be no paper trail of her ever connected to Nik’s business; staying in touch as ‘friends only’ and perhaps offering the occasional consultation over the phone or through a video chat. She was looking forward to no longer being part of that world; using the money she was paid to travel the globe and create experiences and memories before settling down in Scotland. Perhaps once there she’d ‘find herself’; discover a new profession that would give her the same feeling of accomplishment. It had been illegal and dishonest work, but it HAD come with one major benefit; able to dole out karma and see those who deserved it meet their often bloody and brutal demise.

She never did get to travel.

Instead, her entire life changed the second she walked into the rundown shack in the middle of the Australian outback.

“I gotta chubby tummy too!” Millie announces, as she once more settles herself on Tyler’s lap and then pulls up the bottom of her t-shirt. “I also have an outtie! See!”

Grinning, Esme lifts her mug to her lips. “She’s very proud of her belly button. She had an umbilical hernia when she was a baby and had to have surgery for it. When she was still a wee little thing. That’s her souvenir from it.”

“All my friends are jealous! None of them have outties. I tell them that I’m special. Like a unicorn. ‘Cause I got something different.”

“You are,” Esme agrees, and reaches across the table to sweep Millie’s bangs from her forehead. “You are very, very, VERY special. More than you will ever know.”

She desperately wants to add: “And your daddy and I love you so very much” but manages to hold it back. It’s way too soon; only twenty-four hours since Tyler had discovered Millie’s existence and less than three days since the four-year-old’s entire world had been turned upside down. While full of smiles and giggles and hilarious chatter throughout the day, the trauma comes out to play at night. Plagued by uncharacteristic, aggressive meltdowns before bed and a newfound fear of the dark, reverting back to sucking her thumb as a form of comforting and self-soothing, and suffering from horrible nightmares that tear her from rest and cause her to vomit and wet the bed. She’s been through way too much for such a little thing; hearing and seeing things that not even adults should be subjected to. With no way of telling what another huge event would do to her, it’s best to keep Tyler’s true identity a secret for now. At least until the aftereffects of four nights ago begin to weaken.

It hurts to have to keep lying. For four years she’s kept Millie’s existence a secret out of pure selfishness and stupidity; afraid of rejection and unable to handle the mere thought…never mind the sight… of him being with anyone else. Choosing instead to remain hidden and off the grid; convincing herself that she’d only ruin his life if she was to suddenly resurface with a child in tow. Deep down she was aware of just how wrong she was; even hurt and angry, Tyler would never turn away his daughter. Even if they couldn’t get along, he would still want to be in Millie’s life. He’d want to be present and active and have a say and a helping hand in how she was raised. While Esme had told herself that staying silent was better for everyone involved, the truth was that it was only better for her. A way of protecting her heart.

She knows it stings. Whenever Millie calls him by his first name. She can see that little wince that captures his mouth and the pain that darkens his eyes. He’s already missed so much of her life and not being seen and known as ‘dad’ only adds insult to injury. But she also knows that no matter how pained he may be and how desperate he is for the truth to be known, he’d never do anything to hurt Millie or jeopardize her well-being.

Even if it means putting his on the back burner.

It’s a beautiful thing to witness. That big, strapping man already so attentive and adoring. Protective. All that faith she had and all that potential she saw five years ago now playing out before her eyes. The infinite amount of patience that he possesses; allowing Millie to ask a seemingly endless string of questions involving how he met her mother, what it’s like living in Australia, and if she’ll get eaten by a shark if they go to the beach. Always having the perfect answers for her; ones that light up her eyes and make her giggle and feel completely safe and content in his presence. Not blinking an eye when tiny fingers explore the calluses on his palms and his long busted up knuckles; staying away from any talk about the job and telling tales instead of sports injuries and incidents while rock climbing or hiking or surfing. And not appearing bothered when she inquires about his collection of scars; sparing her the more horrific details and only alluding to mishaps while with the military and while fighting ‘bad guys'.``

“Momma,” Millie leans across the table and lightly taps a hand against Esme’s cheek. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what, sweet pea?”

“Looking like you’re gonna cry. What’s wrong? Why tears? Why are you sad?”

“I’m not sad,” Esme promises, then leans forward and rests a hand on the back of the four-year-old’s head. Giving her a reassuring smile before pressing a kiss to her brow. “I’m happy. So very, very, VERY happy.”

****

They find Nik and Abuela waiting outside the suite door when they return; the latter anxiously pacing the thick, plush carpet. And it’s Nik that approaches them; her brow furrowed and lips set in a thin, stern line.

“We’ve got a problem.”

Tyler frowns. “I don’t like hearing that.”

“I don’t like saying it.”

“How big is this problem?”

“I’d say about six one, two hundred pounds. Alessio is here.”

“How the hell did he get in here? I thought this place was secure. I thought one of the rules was that no one could come and cause shit. Conduct business under their roof.”

“He says he’s not here to cause problems. Or do any business. He just wants to talk. With Esme.”

“Tell him to go away,” Millie pipes up from her perch upon Tyler’s shoulders. “Momma is off limits! Tell him that, Auntie Nik. Tell that asshole to f…”

“Amelia…” Esme gently scolds, then turns to Nik. “Talk about what? I think everything that happened last night spoke for itself. His family broke into my house and tried to kill me. And Millie. A little kid. If he thinks I have anything to say…”

“He’s a dickhead!” Millie declares. “Tell him momma has a new boyfriend. Who is really big and strong and will rip his head off and shove it up his…”

“Let me take her,” Abuela suggests, and moves towards Tyler. “We can go and hide in her room and watch a movie or we can make crafts. Maybe go downstairs for a swim. Or we can…”

“No!” The four-year-old protests, wrapping her legs tightly around Tyler’s neck and her arms around his head when the ‘nanny’ reaches for her. “I don’t want to go in there! I don’t want to see him!”

“He’s not going to leave,” Nik addresses Tyler and Esme. “He’s pretty adamant about that. And it’s not like we can force him. If we even put our hands on him, we’ll be leaving this place in body bags. And he knows that. He knows we can’t do a damn thing.”

Tyler sighs. “I mean, one bright spot is neither can he. He goes against the High Table rules and he knows he’s fucked. Not even his family and their connections can save him from them. But wanting to talk to Esme? About what?”

“About what went down the other night I guess. He feels that he’d owed an explanation. That he put eight months into the relationship and everything turned out to be a complete lie. He’s pissed. Hurt. I guess he has a lot to vent about.”

“Tell him to go to a fucking therapist. Esme doesn’t owe him a damn thing. His family tried to KILL HER. No amount of talking is going to change that.”

“What harm is there in hearing him out? If he won’t leave and we can’t make him leave…”

“I don’t wanna go in there,” Millie sobs. “I don’t want to see him. I don’t like him. He’s mean. Don’t make me go in there. Don’t…”

Gently prying her arms apart and untangling her legs from around his neck, Tyler reaches up and carefully lifts the little one off his shoulders. Briefly settling her on his hip before placing her on the ground, then kneeling in front of her and cradling her face in his palms.

“Don’t cry.” He uses his thumbs to clear away the tears that sparkle upon her cheeks. “There’s no reason to cry. Everything is fine. You’re okay.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I know. I know he was mean to your mum. I bet he was mean to you sometimes too, yeah?”

“He threw out my shoes.”

“And that’s bad enough, right? There were other times, too? When he was mean to you?”

Millie nods. “He didn’t like me. He said I was too loud. That I talk too much. And make too much noise. That little kids need to be seen and not heard. He wanted momma to send me to a special school. Where kids stay over instead of coming home. But momma told him to go and ‘get fucked’. She always told him where to go. When he said mean things to me. She doesn’t let anyone hurt me.”

“That’s because she’s an awesome mumma. But he can’t hurt you. Not here. Not with me and Auntie Nik and Abuela here. You’ve got a lot of people that love you. Who will do anything to keep you safe. You trust me?”

“I trust you.”

“I need you to do me a favour. I need you to go inside with Abuela. I want you to do everything she says, okay? You go in your room and you watch a movie or you make some crafts or find something else to keep you busy. Just for a little while.”

“Just for a bit?”

“Just until I finish talking with your mum and Auntie Nik. Then I’ll come and get you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise. Maybe you can even do me up one of those bracelets. So I can add it to my collection. Maybe even make yourself and mumma some too. We can all match.”

“I’ll do yours in boy colours. So you don’t get teased. But you do promise, right? That you’ll come and get me?”

“As soon as I’m done out there. It won’t be long. I just need a chance to talk some things over.”

“What if he hurts momma?”

“No one is going to hurt your mum. I won’t let that happen. So can you do that for me? Go inside with Abuela? Just for a little bit. And then we’ll go and do something. Just the two of us. Is that alright? If we do something together? Are you okay with that?”

“Just us?”

“Just us. If you’re comfortable with just me. If you’d rather mumma tag along…”

“No. I’m okay with it. Just us. Maybe we can go swimming? They have a pool here. And it’s nice and warm. It’s not as fun as the beach, but…”

“You put your bathing suit on when you’re inside and I’ll take you down to the pool. Maybe we can go and get ice cream after. If my chubby tummy can handle it.”

She finally manages a smile, then sniffles noisily and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “Mint chocolate chip?”

“Of course. It’s our favourite. There’s no other kind. So you can do all of that for me? I know how strong you are. How brave. You get that from your mum. She is the strongest person I have EVER known. And you come from her, so…”

“Even stronger than you?”

“MUCH stronger than me. Go inside, okay?” Giving her a reassuring hug, he drops a kiss on the top of her head and then reaches for not only the doll and koala bear Esme holds, but the backpack slung over her shoulder. “Take your stuff with you. So you got your beads and what not if you want to make those bracelets.”

Helping Millie shrug into the backpack, he tucks the doll under one arm, the bear under the other, running a hand over the top of her head before Abuela lays a hand on Millie’s shoulder and gently leads her towards the door. Hesitating on the threshold, Millie glances over her shoulder at Tyler. Tears sparkling in her eyes, as her chin trembles and she tries to remain as stoic as possible.

“You promise, Tyler? You promise you’ll come and get me?”

He struggles with his own emotion; a potent cocktail of rage and heartache to know that someone has mistreated her. It’s only been twenty-four years but the love and the pride he feels towards her is all-consuming; this beautiful, healthy little girl that’s a mixture of himself and the love of his life. It’s surreal; the realization that he is indeed a father again. And while it isn’t the time to jump fully into that role, he can give Millie what she so desperately needs at the present; a sense of safety and security and someone she can trust to protect her. At all costs.

“I promise. I’ll be there in a little bit, okay?”

Nodding, she gives a wiggle of her fingertips in a departing wave and then allows Abuela to lead her into the suite.

****

They stand in silence; waiting to hear if anything goes wrong within the hotel room. And it’s Tyler that speaks first; attempting to push away the anger and animosity he feels towards his old friend and colleague. It’s hard to be civil in the face of Nik’s betrayal; the painful truth that she’d kept Esme’s whereabouts and Millie’s existence a secret. But he reminds himself that it isn’t the time for personal quarrels; Alessio’s appearance bringing the job back to the forefront.

“How’d he get in here Nik? You told me this place was safe. That no one could get to them here.”

“Winston let him.”

“Of fucking course he did.”

“But why would he do that?” Esme inquires. “He’s the one that gave us somewhere to hide out. Why would he just let Alessio walk in, never mind get THIS close?”

“I think it’s personal,” Nik replies. “I know there’s no love lost between him and Tyler and…”

Tyler scowls. “He told you?”

“Told her what?” Esme’s eyes narrow in confusion as she glances back and forth between the two. “What did Winston tell her? What’s going on? What…?”

“Winston and I had a little disagreement. “About…?”

“About what we think is best for you. And Millie. We weren’t exactly on the same page.”

“And what DO you guys think is best for us?”

“I told him that I thought bringing both of you to Australia, getting settled, and starting a life there would be in your best interests. He disagreed. Thought it was better that I brought you back here. To New York City. So he could keep an eye on you.”

“Keep an eye on me? I don’t need him…of all people…keeping an eye on me. Once I’m out of here I am NOT coming back. Ever. If I never see this place again, it’ll be too soon.”

“He seems to have it in his head that you can’t survive without him,” Nik explains. “That you’re better off here…under his roof…than anywhere else.”

“I hope you told him to go and get fucked. Because that’s the furthest thing from the truth. I’m grateful for everything he’s done, but this is the last place I want to be. Kept like some prisoner. That’s not much of a life. For either of us. But especially for Millie.”

“I think he has some weird-ass obsession with you,” Tyler adds. “That goes way beyond the father-daughter bullshit that he spews all the time.”

Nik smirks. “You THINK? It’s not obvious?”

“That is just…” Esme’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “....ewwww. I’ve never gotten that kind of vibe from him. He’s always respected my boundaries and never tried anything. I would have kicked him in the nuts if he did. Did he actually admit to all of this? That he’s got some creepy hopeful sugar daddy going on?”

“Not in so many words, but…”

Nik pipes up. “When he offers to double someone’s payout so they’ll bring you back here and walk out of your life, it’s safe to say there’s nothing normal about how he feels about you.”

“Wait…what? He did WHAT?”

Tyler glares at his old friend. “You did NOT need to tell her that.”

“I assumed she knew. That you already would have told her.”

“I didn’t tell her because I didn’t think she needed to know that part. What good does it do? She’s got enough going on. Add Winston and his bullshit to the list…”

“He offered you money?” Esme struggles to digest the information. “ To bring us back to The Continental and leave us here? Is that what went on? Is that why he showed up here? THAT’S what he wanted to talk to you about? He wanted to pay you off?”

Nik sighs, then addresses Tyler. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause issues. I thought she knew. That you would have told her.”

“What did you say to him?” Esme inquiries, as she moves closer to him; suddenly needing the comfort that his much stronger, heavier body can provide her with. He’s always been her protector; ready, willing, and able to do whatever he had to do in order to keep her safe.

“What do you think I said? I told him to take his money and shove it up his ass. There’s no ‘deal’ to be made. You and Millie? You two aren’t up for negotiation. And I let him know that. That I’m getting you two the fuck out of here and I’m not bringing you back. I don’t care how much money he throws at me.”

“This is just…” Esme pushes both hands through her hair. “...I honestly can’t believe he’d do that. I already told him; once we’re out of here, we aren’t coming back. We’re going on with our lives. I told him that we already talked about all of this. That Millie and I were going to make a life in Australia. With YOU. Whether it’s under the same roof or starting out in separate places. I made it very clear that it wasn’t up for debate.”

“He seems to think it is. He’s got it in his head that I’m some piece of shit that would abandon you and Millie. That I’m some enormous fuck up that’s going to ruin your lives.”

“That is the furthest thing from the truth. You’re none of those things. And I told him all of that. I told him that we were going to be a family. Or at least try being one. That we were going to work through our shit. Get past everything that’s happened. Have a good life together. Give Millie a mom AND a dad. I made it pretty clear that it was my life and my decision.”

“He obviously didn’t listen. Because he’s pretty convinced you’re better off here. That this is the only place you can have a good life.”

“He’s full of shit. And if he thinks I’d EVER think of him in THAT way…”

“I know I opened up a huge can of worms and you two have a lot to talk about,” Nik speaks up. “ But I think we need to refocus. Get back to what’s going on right now. Because whether we like it or not, Alessio IS here. He’s got no intention of leaving until he gets what he wants. And seeing as we can’t force him to leave and we can’t toss him out…”

“What choice do I really have? If he’s not going to leave…”

“I don’t want you alone with him,” Tyler says. “I don’t trust him. If he and Winston are that buddy-buddy, you can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be allowed to break High Table rules. That Winston wouldn’t look the other way.”

“I’ll stay,” Nik offers. “I’ll hang out in another room and keep my ears open. If I even hear things starting to go south…”

“He’s not going to hurt me,” Esme assures them. “Yeah, he’s an asshole in many ways, but putting his hands on women? That’s not his style.”

“His family tried to kill you,” Tyler reminds her. “And Millie. He’s got people just lying in wait outside. They will put a bullet in you the second you step out there.”

“Alessio isn’t like them. He’s nowhere near as committed to that life. And he’s not as loyal to the family as they think he is. He spent the last eight months spilling a lot of their secrets. He wasn’t shy about all the twisted and gory details.”

“Doesn’t mean he won’t go to bat for them now. You’ve disgraced his family. Made him look like a complete fool. These people don’t take betrayal lightly.”

“You heard what Nik said, Tyler. He’s not going to leave. And as much as I know you want to just beat the living shit out of him…”

“I can’t just leave you with him. And I already told Millie…”

“I’ll be fine. Nik will be close by. She’s not going to let him do anything. I know you don’t exactly trust her right now, but I DO. She’s kept us safe and sound all these years. She can do it for another half an hour.”

“I know you’re pretty pissed at me right now, Tyler…” Nik begins.

‘That’s an understatement.”

“...but we need to shelve the personal shit. We can deal with all of that later. I know you have a lot to say to me and believe me, I’m going to let you have a chance to say it. But NOT right now. We have much bigger fish to fry. Not to mention less than forty-eight hours to figure out how the hell we’re all getting out of this city in one piece. So we can focus on what we’re really here for? The job?”

Sighing heavily, he briefly closes as he pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. “I need to talk to Esme.”

“Tyler, I…”

“Nik, there is a lot going on here. And believe it or not, not all of it involves you. I need to talk to her. ALONE.”

She accepts defeat; holding her hands up in surrender and then heads for the door and disappears inside. Tyler waits. Giving Nik a chance to clear the foyer and head further into the suite before he turns to Esme; watching as she chews on her bottom lip and nervously wrings her hands together.

“What do you want to do?”

“There’s not many options. Alessio won’t leave unless he gets what he wants. And as much as I’d love to see you hand him in his ass…”

“Do you want to try and get out of here? Just grab Millie and leave?”

“You know we won’t get far. They’ve got a small army out there. You against all of them? I’ve always had faith in your skills and the things you’re able to do, but…”

“Even I’m not dumb enough to think I stand a chance against all that firepower. There’s gotta be a way though. Of getting you and Millie out of here. With no one else knowing. There has to be some way they get people around without being noticed.”

“I mean there’s an underground garage and there’s passageways, but Winston monitors those. There’s security EVERYWHERE. There’s no way we’d be able to even get to them without being seen. And if he’s messed up enough to offer you money to leave Millie and me behind, what’s stopping him from letting the enemy know what we’re up to?”

“He wants me out of the picture. He made that clear. Many times.”

“And he can make it happen. He’s got the power of The High Table backing him up. And we’ve already dealt with them once before. Look what they did five years ago. Tyler, these are powerful people. They make Alessio’s family look tame. And if we don’t play ball with them, the DiTomassos are going to be the least of our worries.”

Leaning back against the wall, he runs his hands over his weary, unshaven face. “I don’t like any of this.”

“Neither do I. And I’m starting to regret dragging you into this. There you were, just living a nice, quiet life and…”

“I was living a miserable life. Just like I have been for the last five years.”

“Which was my fault, too. Everything I touch, I totally fuck up. Your life, Millie’s life.”

“You haven’t fucked anything up. I mean, just look at her Esme. Look at how amazing your daughter…OUR daughter…is. She’s beautiful and she’s insanely smart and she loves the world and everyone in it. Her life is far from fucked up. Look at how much she loves you. And trusts you. You did that all on your own. Brought her up this far. And she’s incredible.”

“But I didn’t HAVE to do it alone. I had a choice. Once all the smoke cleared and we didn’t have to hide anymore. I could have made things so much easier on myself. And Millie. But I didn’t do it because I was a stupid, selfish little girl that couldn’t handle the thought of rejection. Or of seeing you with someone else.”

“That was what it was? The real reason? Why you didn’t get a hold of me?”

“I couldn’t handle it. The thought of you being with someone else, let alone SEEING it. And I realize how ridiculous that sounds now. You had every right to go on with your life; to meet someone else and fall in love and get married and have a family. But every time I thought about it, it made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t have you and I didn’t want anyone else to either. How pathetic is that?”

“Wanna hear pathetic? Every time I think of you with that asshole in there, I want to put my fist through a wall. Or throw that fucker out a window.”

“I was so scared. I was worried that if I called you or just showed up on your doorstep, you’d turn us away. That you’d still be so angry that you wouldn’t want anything to do with Millie.”

“That never would have happened. Not in a million years. I wouldn’t have turned her away. Or you.”

“The logical and rational side of me knew I was wrong. That you’d never do something like that. But when does fear make you think logically or rationally?”

“I wanted you. I never stopped wanting you. And if you’d just shown up on my doorstep, I would not have turned you away. Not when I spent so long missing you and wanting you back.”

“And now I’m back and look what’s happened. Look at the mess I dragged you into! This is NOT what I wanted. All those times I thought about just bringing Millie to you and begging you for another chance? None of them included THIS. If I’d just left you alone…”

“Esme…” Offering her a hand, he pulls her into him when she accepts; their fingers entwined and their joined hands resting on the small of her back. Her body resting against his as she stands between his legs; hands settling on his hips as he cradles the back of her head in his palm and presses a kiss to her brow. “...I don’t regret taking this job. And I won’t regret it no matter how messy it gets.”

“You had a normal life. You were doing normal things. And I came along and screwed that all up. Just like I screwed everything up five years ago.”

“Stop saying that. It’s not true. And you know it’s not. We had a good thing. A REALLY good thing. And yeah, it went bad and it sucked and the last five years have been pure and utter shit.”

“Because of me.”

“You didn’t know The High Table was going to come for you. There was no way you could have known that. And you were right; with what you said the other night. I wouldn’t have survived that. Challenging them. No way.”

“I had to protect you. I HAD to. I never would have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

“And I’m starting to understand that. I’m not quite there yet, but I’ll get there. It’s hard. Normally I’m the one who does the protecting. Kinda hard to accept when I’m on the other side of the fence.”

A smile tugs at the corners of her mouth. “You and your ego. And your whole knight in shining armour thing you’ve got going on.”

“I thought it was ‘knight in slightly tarnished armour’?”

“You remember that?”

“I remember everything when it comes to you.”

“Even how you used to always leave the toilet seat up and your dirty socks in front of the hamper instead of in it? And how you always used to put your cold feet against the back of my legs in bed?”

“I don’t seem to remember any of THOSE things.”

“Typical.” She gives a small laugh. “You had a selective memory then, too.”

Pressing their joined hands against the small of her back, he draws her even tighter against him and kisses her; long and soft and sweet. “I don’t regret taking this job. And I’m not going to regret it; no matter how ugly it might get. At the risk of sounding sappy and embarrassing myself, it brought us back together. And it brought me Millie. Which is the most amazing thing that could have ever happened.”

“I never meant to hurt you, Tyler. It was never intentional. It was all me. It was never you. I was just worried and scared and…”

He pecks her lips to silence her. “I know. So what do you want to do?” Releasing her hand from behind her back, he runs both palms across her shoulders and down her arms. “About right now? And this dick head fiance of yours?”

“Like Nik said; he’s not going to go away. It’s better if I just suck it up and talk to him. See what he has to say.”

“I’m sure he’s pretty pissed. Being led on for eight months. You’ll be okay? Being alone with him?”

“He won’t hurt me. He knows better. He knows I’ll fucking drop him.”

Tyler grins. “That’s my girl.”

“I’ll be fine. Nik will be close by. I trust her. With my life. With Millie’s life, even. And I know you’ve got a raging hate-on for her right now, but maybe you could shove that aside? Until we’re at least out of New York?”

“I can do that.”

“If you don’t trust Nik, trust me. I know what I’m doing. I know what Alessio is like. He’s not a threat. He’s an asshole, but definitely not a threat.”

“Good. Because I really don’t want to be throwing anyone out the window. Not today, anyway.”

Smiling, she stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to the tip of his chin. “You’d do that for me?”

“Are you kidding me?” Gentle fingertips explore the bruises and cuts on her face, then loop pieces of hair behind her ears. “ I’d set the world on fire for you.”