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seeingivy · 4 months

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sweet irony

ryomen sukuna x f!reader

**part of my best friend's older brother fic

previous part linked here

you stare down at your phone – the picture of you and sukuna cheesing into the camera staring back at you – as the quiet pulsating starts teeming in your head.

he’s dead. you’ve wished him dead for years, hundreds of times in passing, and now he’s actually dead.

and now you’ll have to tell yuuji.

you take a beat before walking back into the sweltering hot air of the bar, the blaring music making your heart race as you push through the crowd. and it takes you twenty minutes before you reach the table where yuuji is again, standing still to watch as he leans his head against megumi on the stool, while nobara finishes off the last of his drink.

you can’t help but pause, your heart sinking into the deepest pits of dread, as he digs the cherry in the drink out of the ice, as you walk up to his side, shaking at his shoulder.

your dad is dead.

“hey, you’re back! do you want the another?” yuuji asks, the stem of the cherry sticking out of the side of his mouth as he holds a shot glass in front of your face, almost tauntingly,

“no, no. um –”

your dad is dead. your piece of shit dad is dead and you have to leave.

you take the glass from him, accidentally slamming it down too hard on the table to the point where it shatters, as yuuji looks over at you, eyes wide. there’s a quiet gasp as almost everyone around you gives you a weary look, before turning back to their own conversations.

you look down at your hand, the smallest amount of crimson red staring back at you, as you ball your hand into a fist and ignore it.

“jesus. you okay, she-hulk?” he asks.

you look back up at him.

“yeah, it’s fine. we have to go home.” you respond.

“what? don’t tell me you’re going to start being a bore now that you’re old. we just got here and we’re not leaving until sukuna is dragging all four of us out on our asses.” yuuji responds, earning him a laugh and a smile from nobara and megumi.

“just come with me. we can talk on the way.” you respond, reaching for his wrist as you start pulling.

“we’re celebrating your birthday! after someone ruined it, mind you…” yuuji jokes, pulling you back towards the table.

“shut up! how was i supposed to know that maki and mai were going to make a scene?” nobara mutters.

“you literally started the fight, nobara.” megumi mutters.

“and i apologized for that!” nobara responds, reaching over to flick megumi in the side of the forehead.

you place your hand on yuuji’s bicep, squeezing hard, as you feel hot tears in your eyes and an almost soreness in your throat – knowing that whatever you say next is irrevocably about to change something for him as you lean forward.

“yuuji. your dad passed away, we…we have to go.”

megumi and nobara turn their heads, the former spilling the drink in his glass all over the table.

“what?” yuuji asks.

yuuji subconsciously pulls his arm back, eyes incredulous as he looks down at you.

“yuuji. really, i…”

“what did you just say?” megumi asks.

“i…i don’t know how it happened, sukuna was so brief on the phone when he asked us to come that..”

“wait, what?” nobara says.

“sukuna. he called me and asked me to bring yuuji back. or both of us, i don’t..”

you watch as yuuji digs his phone out of his pocket – a plethora of calls from both sukuna and his mom shining on his screen – as he scrolls through the texts, before he looks back up at you and swallows hard.

“i had more to drink than you did.” he responds, his voice stiff as gravel.

the look in his eyes is haunting. his dad is dead.

“i’ll bring the car around.” you respond.

“megumi. go with her. sukuna would kill me if he found out i let her walk out there alone.” yuuji responds, his focus halfhearted as he looks down at his phone, dialing his mom’s number as he presses the phone against his ear.

his dad is dead. he needs a second.

megumi gives you a curt nod before linking in his arm with yours and pushing his way through the crowd, uncharacteristically rough as the two of you run out the doors. and you’re both speed walking down the block, hands shaking as you pull open the doors of the car, and shove the key into the engine.

“oh god, his mom is probably losing her shit. she’s going to be a mess when we get there, megumi.” you mutter.

you pull out of the spot, fighting the urge to honk at the hounds of pedestrians that cross, as you nervously twiddle your fingers on the wheel.

“sukuna’s probably there, alone, right now.” you mumble.

you feel your throat dry.

“i hope that…that his dad’s not still there when we get there. i don’t even..”

“i’m not coming.” he whispers..

you accidentally push the break too hard and the car jolts, shooting megumi an apologetic smile as one of the groups of pedestrians flip you off.

megumi notes that what he said came out a little more harshly than he intended it to, but it’s only because of his frustration, and what the questions he knows are going to follow after.

“what? of course you are, he’s…”

“i mean, i can’t.”

you frown.

“of course, you can. in fact, you should. he’s your boyfriend.”

it takes a split second for you to realize why yuuji’s always so defensive when it comes to you and sukuna. surely megumi can’t be serious.

“y/n.”

“megumi. you spend like every waking second with the guy. what’s your issue now?” you seethe.

“i’m not going to make things more complicated by meeting his mom for the first time on the night she became a widow, y/n.” megumi responds.

you swallow hard, the soreness in your throat making your eyes water, as you give him a nod and clench the steering wheel so hard that it makes your skin nearly break.

of course that’s why he couldn’t go. you’re an idiot.

the stinging on your palm from the glass only gets worse as you pull up outside the bar, and honk twice for good measure.

“one thing, y/n.” megumi states.

“what?”

“i know that sukuna is your person. but yuuji’s mine. please don’t forget to be there for him too.” he begs.

you reach forward, squeezing megumi’s hand in yours.

“of course i won’t forget about him. i’ll send you updates, okay?” you whisper.

he gives you a nod as yuuji and nobara come tumbling out of the front door a few minutes later, nobara pressing him into a hard hug before letting ago, and rubbing at her biceps in the cold. and it gets even worse as you watch megumi and yuuji – being so openly affectionate while not being black out drunk for the first time – as they lean their foreheads against each others, before kissing goodbye.

the entire car shifts as yuuji sits in the car, eyes teary and sniffling as he looks over at you, and nods.

“let’s go.”

it feels wrong to leave megumi behind, but you do it anyway.

it takes an hour and a half to get there. yuuji’s uncharacteristically quiet, leaning his head against the glass of the window, as you try to drive as fast as you can on the highway. your headache, the dread, the stinging in your hand – it all seemed to get worse as time goes on, as you get closer to your house, and to whatever’s waiting for you.

halfway through you offer yuuji your uninjured hand, which he takes, and doesn’t let go of as the two of you walk to the porch.

“wait.” yuuji whispers.

“what? what is it?”

yuuji pauses, heaving a sigh before he looks at you, eyes watery.

“i want one more second of normal before…before i…”

“of course, yuuji.” you mumble back, leaning forward to tuck yourself into his embrace, his arms shaking as he wraps them around you.

and you get what he means – you can feel your heart sink as you hear the raised voices, and what you’re sure is mrs. itadori’s wailing, as you squeeze yuuji harder.

“you’re always so warm, y/n.” yuuji mumbles.

you give him a smile as you pull back and ring on the doorbell. and it’s a split second before

sammy swings the door open, eyes wide as she wraps her arms around yuuji first.

“hey kid. you okay?” she murmurs.

“yeah, sam..”

“the moms and sukuna are in the dining room. go, go.” she whispers, rubbing his back once more for good measure before pushing him in the right direction.

and then sammy looks back at you, giving you a smile, before she immediately crumbles into a mess of tears.

“holy shit, y/n. i’m so fucking glad you’re here.”

you open up your arms, taken aback by the mess of her braid and the state she’s in, as she tucks herself into your neck, her tears spilling onto your skin. and you rub circles into her back in unison with her panting breaths, before gesturing for her to explain.

“he just collapsed out of nowhere. i was in the fucking bathroom for gods sake and i just heard them shouting before…before mrs. itadori literally screamed bloody murder…i just came out and..” she whispers.

you squeeze her a little bit harder, her cries getting stifled into your shoulder as you whisper into her ear, trying to calm her down.

“sammy.” you whisper.

“his pulse was gone. i did cpr for twenty minutes before they got here and they said there was nothing i could have done. i’m a fucking nurse, for fucks sake, and i just…i don’t even…”

“you did what you could have.” you murmur.

you can tell that she doesn’t believe you. and that she’s in some kind of shock from the way her eyes are so lifeless – the only thing convincing you that she's still really there with you being the quiet breaths that leave her mouth.

after ten minutes of holding her, she pulls back, wiping at her nose.

“i can’t believe he’s dead.” she mutters miserably.

“me too.”

“is…am i shitty for being upset? he’s an asshole but…but he was around for so long and well –”

“no, sammy. we’ve known him forever.” you affirm. .

“you should check on sukuna, by the way. they asked him questions for a while when he got here, because…because mrs. itadori and i were too hysterical. mom helped but she didn’t know most of the stuff and..”

you wonder if he had been afforded time to cry yet. though you knew how these things go and that somehow, he’d be the last one to get the privilege to process it all.

“okay, come on.” you respond, the two of you linking your arms together as you walk into the dining room.

you feel your heart pinch as you walk into the dining room – at the sight of both mrs. itadori and yuuji crying – with sukuna’s hand slung across yuuji’s chair. there’s an almost…gaunt look on sukuna’s face, devoid of any emotion, as he only locks his eyes with yours in recognition, before turning his attention back to yuuji.

you give a small wave to your own mother, who gives you a halfhearted smile, before placing a she places a glass of water in front of yuuji and mrs. itadori, and taking the seats next to them.

sammy’s crying at your side again, quietly muffling her own tears into your shoulder, as you squeeze at her side, before setting her down in the chair before leaving to get her water. and it’s only in the kitchen that you realize that the inner part of your hand is a bloody mess, with the stained red going all the way down to your wrist, as you walk over to the sink.

“what happened?”

you nearly jump to find sukuna at your side, leaning over your shoulder as he eyes the red in the sink, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, the wetness dripping onto his shirt.

he doesn’t hug back. he’s softens underneath you, his shoulders less stiff, but he doesn’t hug back.

“nothing. it was just a glass back at the bar. you…what happened to you? are you okay? what can i do to help because i know that…”

sukuna leans back, offering you a halfhearted smile, before reaching for the closest drawer and pulling a glass box of bandages and alcohol wipes out.

“let me clean it.”

you frown before holding your hand out for him, watching as he quietly opens the packet, and gently cleans the area, before wrapping it in a white bandage. and when he touches the inner portion of your wrist, he looks up at you before placing the back of his hand against your forehead.

“you’re running hot.” he states.

“it’s warm in here.” you respond.

“it’s not. you’re getting a cold.”

yuuji’s comment from earlier makes sense now. you sigh, noting the soreness in your throat feeling almost swollen now, as you shake your head at him.

“really. what can i do to help? i know this is a lot and…” you mumble.

you’re unable to place the expression on sukuna’s face. it’s almost like he cringes.

“i’m right here.”

“can you stay with yuuji?” he asks.

you pause.

“what?”

that’s not what you had in mind.

“we have to do the funeral sooner than later. saturday is our best bet with everyone having work off so i have to pull shit together, really fast. and i can do it, but…but not while dealing with both of them. can you stay with him? please?”

the question dies on your tounge. what about you?

“yeah, of course i can, but –”

sukuna nods, before placing a bottle of nyquil in your uninjured hand.

“take this twice a day.” he responds, squeezing your shoulder once as he retreats back out to the main room.

you don’t see sukuna for two days. or well, you do, but he’s always preoccupied. not really there. on the phone with the funeral planner, comforting his mom, or dealing with the hospital bills and belongings that were left behind.

he declines your offer to sleep with him, because he sleeps on the floor in his moms room. he doesn’t eat the breakfast you because he has to go pick out the flowers – and doesn’t make any jokes about how he’d save himself from the food poisoning before eating your food.

it’s just as well you suppose, because you really do get a fever, and staying with yuuji takes up enough of your time.

unlike the former – a solid fortress of almost nothing – yuuji swings between two moods, either being awfully quiet and insatiably angry.

you’re not sure which one is better. the lack of babbling from yuuji is haunting in every situation – but it’s so hard to discern what it is that he’s feeling that sometimes all you can do is crawl into his bed with him and stare at the ceiling together.

you were half convinced that it did nothing until the second day, when yuuji offered you a thank you for the silence before trotting off to shower.

the anger is a little bit easier to handle. only because whatever it is that he is feeling comes pouring out of his mouth so freely that you’re at least able to pinpoint what it is that makes him mad.

that he’s dead. that he died without changing. that he won’t ever change and that in the grand scheme of things, yuuji’s history will always be murked by a shitty, homophobic asshole.

“he’s such a fucking prick.” yuuji mutters, angrily slamming the door of his closet, as you readjust on his bed.

was. he was such a prick.

“and why the fuck is my mom crying so much? god knows how many bottles of wine she’s fucking drank trying to temper the fucking rage he filled her with. she should be happy that she doesn’t have to deal with him anymore.”

yuuji looks over at you, quickly handing you the tissue that you were reaching for, before returning to his rant.

“like grow a fucking spine. she’s making sukuna do everything. he’s only fucking twenty-five, for fucks sake. all i’ve watched her do is fucking ball her eyes out and lie down on that god damn couch while he plans the entire funeral and spends lal day calling god knows who.”

yuuji’s nervous pacing makes the jacket of his suit fall off of the hanger, his irritation clearly getting worse, as you lift your hands, gesturing for him to take a seat as you reach for it. you lift it off the floor, sling it back onto the hanger and make a mental note to steam the crease before the funeral tomorrow, before turning back to him and taking a seat at his side.

you lean your head on his shoulder, as he brings his hand up to your hair, tangling through the knots.

“i wish megumi could be here.” he mumbles, voice quiet.

“me too. i…sammy and i actually talked to your mom about it and..” you start.

“i know. sukuna told me.”

yuujji pauses, running his fingers over the pink skin on your palm, before sighing.

“it’s nice but, he’d probably roll over in his grave if megumi came.” yuuji states.

“he’d probably get out of his casket just to yell at you one more time.” you mutter.

yuuji laughs, the sound making you smile.

“and then he’d see you sitting in between me and sukuna and slut shame you one last time for good measure.” he adds.

“and then probably have a second heart attack when he sees sammy sitting there with mai.”

the two of you stare at each other blankly before bursting out into laughter, albeit a little bit too uncontrollably, as you reach to shut the door to stop everyone else from hearing.

“oh my god. i fucking forgot about that. he’d probably have an aneurysm if he found out sammy was bi.”

“he would fully go into septic shock. he’d probably something strangely homoerotic and spend twenty minutes trying to convince her that everyone was a little gay.”

“holy shit! i totally forgot he said that. and then he’d somehow blame me for it. like i made her gay somehow by rubbing it off on her.”

you snort.

“and naturally, he’d start yelling at our moms too. saying that they let us all be a little too wild when we were kids and that’s why we’re all ungrateful..” you add.

“i believe his preferred term of endearment was ungrateful little assholes. and don’t kid yourself, according to him, the root of all evil can – and always will be – traced back to me. ”

the two of you turn your heads to the doorway, to where sukuna’s standing. you jolt up at the sight of him, his eyes red and tired, as you look up at him, giving him a smile.

“hi sukuna. how are –”

sukuna sticks the back of his hand against your forehead, clearly bothered by how warm you’re still running, before dropping his hand. his fingertips trail down your skin, the length of your elbow to your fingers, before he presses the bottle into your hand.

“antibiotic for five days. if you still feel bad, then an extra two days.” he states, holding the water out in front of you.

it’s the same as the time yuuji punched you. he’s uncharacteristically inexpressive, but still attentive.

“when did you have time to go?”

“i had to get his clothes from the hospital. and his phone and the car keys, they were all in his pocket.”

“thank you. do need anything from me?”

“still have nyquill?”

he avoids the conversation, like he always does, in the rare seconds you’re allowed to speak to him.. you pretend it doesn’t sting.

“yes.”

sukuna leans forward, tucking the stray hairs behind your ear, before turning to yuuji.

“day after tomorrow, up at six both of you. the funeral starts at seven and we’ll be back here after for the condolences.”

“got it.” yuuji responds and you nod.

sukuna disappears as fast as he showed up.

and while you felt like you were isolated in the feeling – that he was slipping away, on another planet from you when he was only two doors down – you and yuuji talk about it the night before the funeral.

“does it bother you?” yuuji asks.

you can’t sleep the night before and neither can he – the two of you cramped up in his tiny bed and staring at the tiny glow in the dark stars you pressed to the ceiling years prior. they’re peeling off, half of them already having fell into the crevices between the bed in the wall years ago.

“your dad?” you murmur.

“no. sukuna.”

“what do you mean?”

“does it bother you that he won’t let you help him?” yuuji asks.

you sigh, mulling over the thought in your head. of course it bothers you. you felt like you were failing the most important test.

“i’m not saying that in a shit talking type of way. i just meant…as an observation. as a friend.” yuuji adds.

you smile.

“i know. i guess it does. i just feel like we made really good progress and that…that i’d at least tumbled down most of his walls. but every time i see him, it kind of feels like they’re back up. maybe even worse than before.”

“what do you mean?”

“he was always a little reserved but it didn’t take much to get him to open up. he’d always give in when i asked. but he just kind of brushes me off now. i’m not mad about it, because i understand, but i wish i could just do more.” you respond.

yuuji readjusts, leaning over on his side, to look at you. and you mimic his actions till the two of you are facing each other, cheeks pressed into the pillows as you try to make out the features of his face.

“don’t take it personally.” yuuji responds.

you sigh.

“really. in my experience, he…he’s never been able to let go until things are fully settled.”

“that’s what scares me. your dad isn’t going to stop being dead.” you whisper.

yuuji nods.

“he won’t leave you.”

“i know that. i just need him to come back to me.” you respond.

yuuji readjusts under the sheets. there’s a quiet beat before he talks again.

“will you stand with us at the condolences tomorrow? i think he’d like it if you were nearby. and god knows i need someone to stand there with me.”

“of course, i will.”

almost every person you’ve ever known seems to cycle through their house the next day. the funeral was crowded and you luckily for you, you were stuck for the most part, with sammy on one side and yuuji on the other, so you were able to avoid it.

but the house was different. in a swimming sea of black, you and yuuji have awkward sets of interactions every few minutes. your third grade teacher, the hostess who kicked the two of you out of the sushi restaurant once, and the weird guy who gets drunk every thursday at the district.

this town was way too small.

yuuji sees nobara at the door, giving you a go ahead to go find where sukuna was lingering, as you start making your way through the halls. and it takes a few minutes, but you find him in the kitchen, tucking the envelopes and letters into the drawer as he reaches for his tie and loosens the knot.

“hi.”

you watch as he immediately stiffens, sharply turning his head to the left, before releasing.

“oh. hey. i thought you were someone else.”

“nope! just little old me.” you respond.

sukuna pauses, slowly closing the drawer, before turning to you and cupping the side of your face. you welcome the touch – your chest panging at how long it’s been since you’ve even seen him, let alone touched him – before pressing a kiss to his palm.

“do you feel better?” he asks

“yeah. thank you.”

he gives you a halfhearted smile, before dropping his hands down your back and securing his hand around your waist. you lean into his touch, pressing your cheek to his shoulder, and taking in the scent of his cologne.

“i have to go back out.” he mumbles.

“i know.” you respond.

he looks down at you, giving you a smile, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. you give him a smile, before he leans down and squints his eyes at you.

“been far too long since i’ve kissed you, hasn’t it?”

“what?”

“you’re blushing. and i just kissed your forehead.”

you laugh, lightly trying to shove him away. but he’s too fast, hands on your waist before he leans forward, fully smiling this time and pulling you closer. it’s the first one you’ve seen in days. it makes your heart ache.

“it’s normal to blush when your boyfriend kisses you.” you defend.

he shakes his head, playfully poking at the side of your cheek before dropping his hand.

“you’re always greedy. so greedy that you got so used to it. i usually have to rile you up in five different ways before i see that pretty flush creep down your neck.”

“you’re a pervert. read the room.”

sukuna rolls his eyes.

“i am reading the room. you and i are the only ones in it.” he deadpans.

“every person we know is outside.” you whisper.

“come on. one kiss and i’ll go back.” he whispers back.

“sukuna.”

“please.”

you roll your eyes before placing both of your hands on his cheeks and leaning forward. and as many comments as you made about reading the room and trying to deny it, you’re way too excited to lean forward – nearly smacking your nose into his – as you lock your lips with his.

but it’s nothing like you expected.

because while he was joking a few minutes prior, the kiss is so soft, dripping with longing that it takes you by surprise. it reminded you of the quiet moments – when he’d trace the freckles on your cheek or press kisses to your knuckles before bed – so overwhelming, so intimate that you felt like he had creeped up inside of you.

when you flicker your eyes open, his eyes are filled with tears.

“i’m sorry for avoiding you.” he whispers.

“that’s okay, you…”

“i knew this would happen if i was around you for too long.” he responds.

you pause, taken aback by his words.

“what?”

“i wouldn’t be able to keep it together.” he responds, voice cracking as the tears start spilling down his cheeks.

you frown, reaching forward to wipe the wetness away.

“you don’t have to keep it together.” you whisper.

“we both know i do.” he responds, his gaze wavering to the floor.

you feel your heart drop, at the mere premise, before pressing yourself closer to him, feeling him sag nearly his entire weight onto you. he presses a kiss on your shoulder that makes you shiver.

“can we please talk when we go home? just a few more days before…”

“yeah. just you and me, okay?”

he nods, lifting your hands against his lips to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"don't be hurt if I avoid you."

"you could never hurt me. i know whatever you do, there's a reason for it."

sukuna groans, before leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"you're perfect, you know that?"

you give him a teasing grin, before shrugging.

"i can't help it." you joke.

he smiles, before leaning forward to press another kiss to your lips.

“make me a promise.” he whispers, a slight strain in his voice.

“okay.”

he swallows hard.

“you can’t die.”

you lean back, pressing your hand into the softness of his hair, before looking at his brown eyes, so full and expectant as they wait for an answer.

“of course not.”

“you’d take me right with you if you did. you can’t.” he begs.

you give him a smile.

“i won’t. i promise, ryomen.” you respond, reaching forward to cross on his heart.

he gives you a shaky sigh, before nodding and pressing one last kiss to your cheek before exiting back out.

and you thank your lucky stars. he came back.

you smack nobara in the back of the head when you make your way back to her and yuuji. because not only are yuuji and nobara nursing two glasses of red wine, but they’re also emptying her trusty hot pink flash into the glass when people aren’t looking.

“are you insane?” you whisper.

“do you want a sip?” yuuji asks.

you immediately take the glass from his hand, earning you laughs from the two of them, as the three of you lean against the wall, watching everyone mill around the room. as irritating as the guy was, mr. itadori was really only all types of heinous and horrible with those closest to them.

to the community, it was a grave loss. and there wasn’t a dry eye in the room – except from the three people it was probably expected from the most.

you could hear the whispers. they were so strong. you fight the urge to laugh in their faces. it was the understatement of the century.

sammy joins you on the wall after an hour of mingling, an awkward jostle between her and nobara, before the two of them were sharing their glasses and muttering under their breaths about how insane maki and mai were.

“funerals are weird.” yuuji mumbles, leaning his head against yours.

“how so?”

“these two idiots were fighting at your birthday like a week ago. and no one’s even batting an eye that mr. johnson is sitting with his mistress while his wife gets drunk in the corner.”

“that’s not his mistress. she was blonde.”

“bold of you to assume there was only one.”

you shiver in disgust, earning you a laugh from yuuji, as you finish off the last of his glass. except that’s right when sukuna walks up to you, eyes panicked as he takes the glass from your hand and sets it on the table.

“hey baby.” he whispers.

“hi sukuna. want some of our conc –”

“whatever happens, i’m right here, okay?” he says, the tone in his voice urgent.

you laugh, looking over to give yuuji a weird look, only to find that he’s staring past sukuna’s shoulder, swallowing hard.

“huh? i don’t follow.”

sukuna pinches his eyes shut, almost like he’s pained, before moving to your side, when you finally see it. he squeezes your hand so hard you think he might have broken it.

you suppose it’s ironic.

yuuji and sukuna’s shitty dad is dead. and your deadbeat one is standing four feet away from you, with two little girls at his side.

next part linked here

an: yolo.

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ovrour · 4 days

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𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑' ─── christopher o. sturniolo

# 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 . . . christopher o. sturniolo x ex!gf reader

# 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 . . . chris cant let you go even when he knows he has too.

# 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐘 . . . angst

# 𝐀𝐍 . . . theres a big ass plot twist

# 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 . . . Lover, you should’ve come over by Jeff Buckley

It had been a year. A year since Chris’ world came crashing down. A year since he lost everything. He lost you. It hit him hard, he would’ve never seen the breakup coming. He didn’t know why it happened. Why he had to lose his beautiful girl. Chris wasn’t sure if he could even call you that anymore. You weren’t together, and you hadn’t been for a year. But, he was never going to stop calling you his girl. You were each other's everything. And he missed having you as his everything.

Chris couldn’t get over, he hadn’t gotten over it. He never will. Chris knew he had to let you go but, he wouldn’t. Currently, Chris was sitting in your favorite restaurant, the one he first took you to when he asked to be your boyfriend. He felt like it was the only place where he could feel happy knowing that he had the chance to have been with you. But now, it felt like nothing. Nothing without seeing your enticing eyes, or delicate smile. It was stupid really. Stupid of him to still miss you even after a year.

Chris is pulled out of his thoughts when he hears a ringing noise. It’s Matt calling him. “Hey, We’re about to film a video. Are you down?” Matt spoke over the phone. “Yeah, I’ll start getting ready.” “Alright. We’ll be there in 20.”

Chris then hung up the phone and left for his room. By the time he was done, Matt had just pulled into the driveway, honked letting Chris know he was home. Chris rushed out the door putting his shoes on. He rushed into the car, closing the door behind him, finally putting on his shoes, he was out of breath. “Hey, you okay? You look upset.” Nick asked him. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just thinking.” Chris replied.

In all reality it wasn’t just thinking. He was thinking about his girl. The girl he had met when he was fresh into middle school, the one who he had fallen in love with. He felt so alone now that his girl was gone, he had no one to go talk to about his day, how filming went, or how much fun he had going out with his brothers.

“Are you sure you're just thinking? Or are you thinking about y/n?” Matt hinted. Chris just looked at him and sighed. “Chris, it’s time to let her go. It’s been a year. She’s probably moved on already.” Nick stated. “I know okay? But, I can’t let go of someone I loved for so long.” Chris commented, tears starting to swell in this eyes. “Hey, don’t cry. It’s gonna be okay. It takes time to get over someone you’ve loved for so long.” Matt chimed in.

“Look, we’re gonna get some food, record a video and then we can go home okay? And maybe you can ask her mom about how well she’s doing. I know you’ve been wanting to text her.” All three of them stopped by McDonald’s and picked up some food before they found a spot to record. They answered a few questions, laughed together, and just chatted.

After they finished recording they went back home. Chris thought about you the whole time there. He couldn’t stop talking or thinking about you. He felt so bad because he hadn’t reached out to you in months. The last time he talked to you was to wish you a happy birthday. So, when he got home that was the first thing he did. But, when he did, he didn’t expect the messages to turn green. He knows you hadn’t blocked him, or at least he didn’t think so. If you did, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Chris, what’re you doing?” Nick asked, standing behind him. “I'm trying to text y/n but my messages are turning green.” He replied. “Are you sure she hasn't blocked you?” Matt inserted. “No, i don't think so. i dont think she has a reason to.”

“well, you should ask her mom, see if she’s okay.”

“yeah, i’ll text her right now.”

Chris then texted your mom, asking her if you were okay. She didn't reply at first, so he waited and waited and waited. To keep his mind off things, he did a couple chores. took a shower, got dressed, and ate some food. That's when he feels a vibration. it was y/n’s mom. He opened the message and his heart dropped.

it felt like the world had gotten slower. Everything went quiet, it was like it was just him, alone, left in the world. Chris couldn't hear the twins calling for him. Chris didn't expect to receive the message that he did. Finally, Chris calms down and hears Nick yelling for him.

“Chris, are you okay? I heard something fall.” Nick questioned. Chris didn’t say anything, he just looked at him. “Chris?” Matt blurted out.

“She's dead.”

“Who’s dead?” Chris didn't reply. “Chris, who the fuck is dead.” Matt stated. “Y/n. She’s dead.” Chris replied, typing on his phone. Tears start swelling in his eyes. “No. She's not dead. We just talked to her last month.” Nick cried. “How did she die?” “She was murdered.” Chris responded.

“I cant believe we didn’t check up on her. We were so busy.”

“Her poor soul. She was such a beautiful person. I hope her mom is okay.”

“Yeah. I hope that she's okay. I can't imagine how hard it is for her.”

Chris stood up, walked out the door, and just stood there. He looked up to the moon and said “I'm so sorry I couldn't check up on you more. I'm so sorry.” He sat down and just cried. His girl was gone. His girl was sent from heaven. Now she was in heaven, resting not having to suffer anymore. He was never going to forget you. And ‘till this day, he tells everyone about you, and about how much of an amazing person you were. He wants people to know that you weren’t just a girl to him. you were his best friend. You were always going to be his best friend. He’ll always remember you as…

his girl sent from heaven.

©️ ovrour

taglist: @flouvela @sturniolosarethebest @missmimii @bernardsbendystraws @042502 @soupuurr @luvs4matt

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fhatbhabiee · 5 months

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Cuz I Loved You

DBF!Joel Miller x Reader

word count: 1.6k

warnings: light smut (nothing too crazy), touch of angst, heartbreak, Joel being a dick, plot twist ending, blue text is flashback from Joel's pov, pink text is flashback from readers pov

note: yes- this is based off the new Joel pic along w alittle help from @/corrodedcorpze on twitter who had the idea and yes i asked to write this before i did bc we don't steal ideas in this house

part 2

Music was playing, people were talking and enjoying themselves, and your dad was having the night of his life. He never really liked celebrating birthdays but your mom convinced him otherwise.

You were running late as usual, stopping and getting the few things that had already run out at the party. As soon as you pulled into the driveway of your parents house you saw his truck. You felt your heart drop to your asshole. It had been months since you last saw or even spoke to Joel. Why did he have to be here?

You walked through the house, leaving the supplies in the kitchen before walking to the backyard. You spotted your parents and walked over to them, completely ignoring everyone else.

If I don't see him I won't have to talk to him.

Joel's laughter quickly died down as he looked over Tommy's shoulder and saw you. His eyes quickly roamed your body- you had on your favorite red sweater- the same red sweater Joel had got you for your birthday and a pair of black leggings. You looked beautiful as ever.

“Joel.” you gasped, pulling the knitted fabric out of the bag.

“It's the one you pointed out in that window in town.”

“Oh honey thank you so much. It's beautiful.”

“Cmon try it on. Wanna see how it looks.”

“Okay.” you smiled, standing up from the couch and replacing your t-shirt with the sweater. It fit you perfectly. It was a bit baggy but by the look on your face, Joel knew you still loved it.

“Beautiful.” he smiled, gently pressing his lips against yours. “But I think it'll look better on my floor.” he smirked, hands sliding up your sides under the sweater.

“Well let's try it out.”

“Joel.” Tommy called out, pulling Joel's head out of the clouds.

“Sorry what were we talking about?”

You got up from the table your parents were sitting at and glanced over, making eye contact with Joel. His heart sank as he saw your smile disappear because of him.

He looked good- so good that it hurt. He grew his hair along with his beard- covering the patches of skin you kissed all the time. You could tell he aged some but really he looked like the same man you fell in love with.

“What's all this?” Joel asked, eyes glancing over the dining room table.

“Well you told me you were working late so I'd thought you'd enjoy a hot meal.” you said as you poured a glass of whiskey and handed it to him. “Plus since we can't do date night this weekend I thought tonight was good.”

“I coulda put Tommy in charge.”

You let out a laugh. “Joel Miller don't make me laugh. You know good and well leaving Tommy in charge is the reason why you have more gray hairs then brown.”

He chuckled and kissed you softly. He pulled away and looked into your eyes for a moment, smile still spread across his lips.

“I love you.” he whispered. You were surprised. You were always the one to say the L word first in relationships but Joel beat you to the punch.

“I love you too.”

“Sweetie?” your mom called out, making you look over at her. “Oh sweetie…” she whispered, reaching up and wiping the tear that rolled down your cheek with the pad of her thumb.

When did you start crying?

“Come on. Let's go inside for a minute.” she grabbed your hand and walked you into the house.

“Mom it's fine. Just my allergies acting up.”

She laughed. “I wasn't born yesterday.” she handed you a glass of water. “Seeing him must be hard huh?”

You felt the heat go to the tip of your ears. “H-How did-”

“A mother knows. And after you two broke it off you stopped coming around and Joel was nothing but a mess. Sarah was calling your dad left and right because she couldn't get ahold of him.”

You couldn't lie to yourself, hearing Joel was a mess was oddly comforting. The sounds of his footsteps approaching the kitchen made your mom go quiet. She looked up at Joel and then back over at you.

“Do you want me to stay?” your mom whispered.

“No it's fine…”

“Okay… I'll be outside if you need anything.” she said to you, giving her a quick nod before she walked out of the house, leaving you and Joel alone for the first time in months.

“How have you been?” he muttered, finally breaking the silence after about 5 minutes.

“Fine. You?”

“Fine.” he replied.

“Good.”

“That's all you're gonna say?” he scoffed.

“Well you had a mouth full to say the last time I saw you.” you crossed your arms over your chest, digging your nails into the palms of your hands and repeating yourself not to cry in front of him.

He opened his mouth, about to say something, when the sliding back door opened and people walked in.

“Can we go somewhere private?” you gave him a small nod and led the way upstairs to your old bedroom, closing the door behind both of you.

“Look I'm sorry…”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “If 'I'm sorry’ is all you have to say I think I'll be on my way now.”

“Would you let me finish a sentence?”

“No Joel I will not! You don't deserve my time, you don't deserve to even be standing in front of me, speaking to me.” you yelled.

“I don't deserve it?” he yelled back. “You're fucking joking right?”

“Does it look like I'm laughing? You broke up with me, Joel Miller. You were the one that said it was too much. You were the one that wanted out. Not me.”

“Because you wanted all this life I couldn't give you! Do you not understand that I'm more than twice your age? I don't want to start over!”

You faced away from him, quickly wiping your eyes with your fingers.

“Don't cry…” he said in a soft tone.

“I am crying Joel. I'm crying cause I loved you and I hate you for that.” He walked over, gently placing a hand on your shoulder.

“I'm sorry.”

“Fuck you and your sorry.” you walked towards the door but he grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him.

“Fuck you Joel! Let me go.” you placed your hands flat on his chest and tried pushing him back but he wouldn't budge. “Fuck you.” you tried pushing him off again but no movement. You stopped for a moment, staring into his eyes- those dark brown eyes that you loved so much. He leaned down, just one move away from pressing his lips onto yours.

“Fuck me.” you whispered. He didn't hesitate. He pressed his lips onto yours, his hands sliding down your curves and around to the small of your back, pulling your body closer to his. You reached up and tangled your fingers in his curls at the nape of his neck.

God you missed this but you knew this was a bad idea. There were nights where all you dreamed about was this. But no matter how much of a bad idea it was- you didn't wanna stop.

You both stripped down to nothing and he picked you up by the backs of your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist. It took him no time to bottom out inside of you, both of you groaning at the feeling.

“Fuck I forgot how much you felt like heaven baby.” he groaned, bouncing you up and down on his cock while thrusting up into you.

“God I missed you so much Joel.” you moaned, digging your nails into his shoulders.

“I missed you so much more baby girl.”

It was like you had stepped into a time machine and went back. The sweet praises he whispered, the way his massive hands roamed your body as his thrusts became sloppy. The way you moaned his name on repeat, the way you always had to be touching or kissing him while he put you in this euphoric state.

It had been so long for both of you, you both came before either one of you wanted it to be over. You stayed in his arms for a moment, trying to catch your breath and gather your thoughts over what just happened.

“I umm… Gotta get going.” you said as you dropped your legs from his waist and got redressed.

“Yeah me too. Got a meeting in the morning.”

Before you walked out of the room he grabbed your hand again.

“Are you free this weekend?” he asked. You let out a small sigh and shook your head.

“Joel I'll never stop loving you but it took me everything in my power to get over you. I'm sorry but it's best that we don't speak again unless we have to.”

“Baby-”

“I'm sorry.” with that you walked out of the room, leaning Joel alone.

— • —

Weeks had gone by since you last seen Joel and you've never felt better. That is until you got a stomach bug. Your head had been in the toilet for the last few days and the smell of food just made you even more nauseous.

You were laying on the cool tile floor of your bathroom, not having the energy to get up and go to your bedroom, when your eyes caught a glimpse of the unopened tampon box sticking out from under the sink.

3 minutes. 3 very long agonizing minutes. Once the timer on your phone went off you looked on the bathroom counter to see what your future would hold.

“Oh you've got to be fucking kidding me.”

beta'd: @clawdee @nerdieforpedro @iron-strangers @dancingtotuyo thank you all ily <3

divider: @saradika-graphics

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x plus size reader #joel x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #new fic #joel tlou #joel x you #joel x y/n #dbf!joel x reader #the last of us #tw smut #tw angst

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wordsofelie · 1 month

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Chapter 8

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: Timeskip, Manga Spoilers, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of 1 OC, yn is lost & confused

Word count: 4.5k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 9

184.

That’s the number of days that have passed since you last saw Suna or heard from him. 184 full days, mornings and evenings, without hearing his voice or touching his skin. You can't sleep a wink the night before the twins’ birthday party. You squirm in bed and watch the hours pass.

So many questions run through your mind.

What will happen when you see him? Will he talk to you; look at you? If you have the opportunity to hold him again—will you?

It’s raining outside. You hear the raindrops brushing the trees before crashing against your window. The moon is shining bright and high in the sky, at times, clouds hide it. It’s a typical autumn night, heavy and nostalgic. Just like your heart.

Around 3 a.m. you decide to text Umi.

“I’m scared to see Rintarou,” you admit.

It doesn’t take her long to reply, “I can come if you want.”

Osamu has invited your best friend to the party. Not only because he had known her for years but also because he would feel better if you had her by your side.

“D’ya mind?” He asked his brother.

“Do whatever ya want,” Atsumu said, he tried to look unbothered, but Osamu knew him all too well. Umi and Atsumu haven’t seen each other since high school and their friendship did not end up on good terms. The boy was still holding a grudge towards her. But if he admitted it, he knew his brother would make fun of him for acting like a child. So, he played it tough, pretending that seeing her again after years would be fine (but anyway, that’s another story).

“You should sleep,” you text.

“Says you haha”, followed by “but really, just tell me and I’ll come.”

You stare down at your phone, unsure of what you should do. Since Osamu told her about the party, she has been asking you if you wanted her to come, but you brushed her off each time. However, now that it is only a matter of hours before you see your ex-boyfriend again, you start to freak out.

“If you have nothing planned why not.”

“I don’t! see you tomorrow then, try to have a good night!”

The sound of the rain covers your heartbeat, the caress of the wind against your window masks the trembling of your hands.

It’s going to be okay, you repeat and repeat.

You arrive at the Miya’s apartment before anyone else. You tell Osamu you want to help them (or, rather, him) prepare.

Atsumu comes out of the bathroom when you put the beers you have bought in the fridge.

“Oya, oya dear Mademoiselle.”

You share a surprised look with Osamu—one tinged with mockery and pity. It takes you a lot of self-control not to burst into laughter.

“Ya speak French now? And don’t walk around shirtless.” Osamu sighs.

“Yer my mom or what?” Atsumy says while getting closer to you. “My abs deserve to be shown to the world.”

Your eyes immediately fall on his toned chest and belly. And you must admit that yes, Atsumu’s muscles are indeed well-shaped and nothing compared to his high school days. Despite his childish attitude, he is a man now.

“See, she agrees with me.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and smiles teasingly.

“I never agree-”

“I’ll grab a beer.” The setter cuts you off and opens the fridge.

Osamu strides forward and takes the beer from his brother’s hand, “Calm down ya moron, it’s for tonight.”

“The night is young little bro.”

“Huh?” Osamu frowns, “Never call me that again.”

Atsumu mumbles something back and the argument escalates as always. The starting point of the fight is soon to be completely set aside.

You laugh so hard, that you almost forget the knot in your stomach. Atsumu decides to go back to his room, insults resonating in the whole apartment.

“Why do you guys live together?” You ask, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

“Gosh, I don’t know. He pisses me off.” He grumbles.

“But?” You put your hands on your waist and look at him, waiting for your question to be answered—honestly.

“But…” He hesitates then mutters with a shy voice, “Am just used to bein' with him all the time, ya know. It’s -” he clears his throat, “comfortin'.”

The vulnerability in his eyes soothes your heart, you tilt your head and smile. Osamu sees your nose wrikling. He turns around, “Shut up.”

You lift your hands in defence, “I haven't said anything yet”

“But I know exactly what yer thinkin’”

“Can you read my mind, Miya Osamu?”

“I’d rather not.” He glances at you, his back still facing you.

His left profile really is his best, you tell yourself.

You only chuckle after that and stop the conversation here. After all, he is not wrong. Why would he want to read your mind when it’s full of Suna? Paced with the memories of what you shared and tortured by the regret of what could have been. Maybe this incessant ache in your heart and in your thoughts is a reminder of how guilty you should feel for letting your relationship down, for not showing him enough support. Maybe you have been too hard to love and he is happier with someone else.

Or maybe, you truly deserved better?

Maybe he is the one who let you down? Who didn’t fight for you?

Maybe you should be happier with someone else—could you be happy again; loved again?

You open your mouth. Anyone who would see you might think you have seen a ghost. The questions make you feel dizzy so you decide to push them away. You feel the tension of your face ease a little and when Osamu calls you to help him cut avocados to prepare some guacamole, you take a deep breath and join him.

It’s time for the guests to arrive.

Since Kita has some last-minute inconvenience at his farm, Ginjima is the first to arrive. Half an hour passes and the place is almost full.

You stay with Osamu in the kitchen, even if “ya should go talk with everyone”, he tells you. “I like to be with you.” You reassure him—how can he argue with you after that? But your gaze travels to the living room, moves through the clock hanging in the entrance, and stops at the door. And it keeps going there, again and again.

There is a weird combination inside your heart—fear mixed with hope. And each time someone knocks at the door, it hits you like a firework against a dark night; it’s noisy and overwhelming, but it’s also colourful and exciting.

Osamu pours you a glass of lemonade (he bought your favourite) when Suna enters his apartment. You see the discomfort in your friend’s eyes and turn to the direction he is glaring at.

Your body freezes. Your vision follows every single one of his moves—he shakes Atsumu’s hand, smirks when Aran fist-bumps him, takes off his jacket, runs his hands through his hair. Everything is going so fast, or so slow. You don’t know. You start panicking when his footsteps get closer to where you and Osamu are. You look down at the floor, the light reflecting on it is suddenly replaced by Osamu’s shadow. He stands before you, his broad back and shoulders almost hide your ex-boyfriend.

They greet each other while you restrain the tears from falling down your eyes.

“Hey,” you believe you end up saying. He says something back before turning his attention to Osamu.

“Happy birthday man.”

“Thanks bro, it’s nice to see ya.”

You think Osamu is sincere. They are friends after all and you never wished for them to grow apart because of you.

You finally decide to look at Suna—or maybe it’s just instinct, a force stronger than you, which pulls you to do so. It’s the closest you have been to him in months.

His face is perfect, and the shapes of his body outstanding.

You do not meet his eyes though and your heart breaks. You feel stupid, why would he look at you? Why would he want to have a conversation with you? Why would he care about someone as insignificant as y-

“Yer lemonade,” Osamu gives you your drink and smiles, “Want somethin’ to drink?” he proposes to Suna, pointing at the fridge.

“Sure.” The other boy says.

You bite your lips and think, the evening is going to be long and lonely.

If not for the twins you would storm out of this room, run to your parents’ house and muffle your sobs in your pillow.

Atsumu is drunk.

“It’s not even midnight,” Aran says nonchalantly.

Kita lets out a faint sigh, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer to Atsumu. “Atsumu,” he begins, his voice soft but firm enough to catch the setter’s attention. “D’ya want some water?”

“Captain!” Atsumu spins around abruptly, “Am so happy yer here!”

The boy often gives a slap on the back to his friends or teammates, you figured it’s his way of being friendly. It never looks like it hurts (well, it would probably hurt you since Atsumu is a 6’ tall and full-of-muscle athlete, but nobody was ever injured, so he must know how to control his strength). However, with three beers and six shots of sake in his blood, he loses all sense of control.

The slap he gives Kita makes the former captain trip. Suna, who is standing next to Atsumu, steadies him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kita apologises.

Suna doesn’t understand him at first, Atsumu is the one who acted like an idiot. But then, he starts feeling something stinging on his chest. He realises Kita’s drink has been spilled on his t-shirt (white, of course).

“Sunarin!” Atsumu shouts in Rintarou’s hear, it startles him, “Shit, yer shirt is fucked.”

“It’s fine,” Suna sighs, clearly exasperated.

“’Samu!” Atsumu yells, his voice booming through the apartment.

“Atsumu, stop screaming,” Suna pleads, rubbing his temple as if trying to ward off an impending headache.

But Atsumu ignores him, “go get Sunarin one of yer shirts.”

Osamu, who had been sitting on the couch with you, raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Huh?”

Even in his drunken state, Atsumu seems to pick up on the bothered tone of his brother. “Yer such a shithead,” he mutters, though he probably meant to whisper. He pulls off his own shirt, revealing his toned torso (again), and hands it to Suna. “Wear that.”

Suna hesitates for a moment, but he eventually complies, pulling off his wet shirt.

“Fuck, Sunarin, yer girl is savage!” Atsumu suddenly blurts out, his loud voice cutting through the room like a knife.

You are following the scene from the corner of your eyes. You try as much as possible to not look at your ex-boyfriend, especially not when you see him starting to get shirtless. But when the blond twin screams and an awkward silence follows it, you can’t help but turn to the boys.

If you weren’t sat on the couch, vision perfectly directed to Suna’s back, you wouldn’t have understood what Atsumu meant. But you are sat on the couch and despite the dim light you see the scratches on his back.

“Yer a beast or what?” he continues, giggling like a teenager.

“Atsumu, stop.”

Umi interjects with frustration, but it feels distant, almost surreal to you. She gets up and steps closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down. But Atsumu’s too far gone and he continues to tease the middle blocker. The tension in the room thickens.

Umi tries again, her voice firmer this time, “Atsumu, that’s enough.”

“Oh, so ya know my name, huh? I thought you had nothin’ to do with me.” His slams her hand away and looks down at her, eyes filled with anger.

Osamu sighs and decides to take care of the situation.

As soon as you are left alone on the couch, you slip away from the living room, quietly making your way to the kitchen. The cool air is a relief, but it does little to soothe the turmoil brewing inside you. The tension in the room was suffocating, and you needed to get away from it all—the memories, the stinging pain, the sight of Suna's marked back.

As you lean against the counter, trying to steady your breath, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Osamu, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Yer okay?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak without your voice cracking. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you manage to say, forcing a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

Osamu isn’t convinced. He takes a step closer, his gaze searching your face for any sign that you might need him to stay. But you shake your head, more forcefully this time. “Really, Osamu. I’m okay. I just need a moment.” Leave me alone, you beg him in silence.

He hesitates for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on you. Finally, he nods and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave.

The moment he’s gone, you feel the weight of everything you’ve been holding back crash down on you. You glance around the kitchen, your eyes landing on a bottle of something strong on the counter. If Atsumu can act so freely with alcohol in his system, then why shouldn’t you? Maybe it will numb the ache in your chest, even if just for a little while.

You grab the bottle and pour yourself a generous amount, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat. You don’t care. All you want is to forget, to drown out the thoughts that have been plaguing you since Suna walked out of your life.

With the drink in hand, you head back to the living room. The scene has shifted slightly. Atsumu and Umi are nowhere to be found, and everything seems to be back to normal. You watch Gin and Kosaku play some cards game with a detached interest, but your eyes keep straying to where Suna is sitting. The pain deepens.

Osamu catches your eye from across the room. He must see something in your face because after a moment, he looks away, as if giving up on trying to figure out what you’re feeling. The drink in your hand is half-gone, and the room starts to blur slightly around the edges. You down the rest in one go.

An hour passes, and you’re in a drunken haze. The sounds around you—laughter, music, chatter—melt into an indistinguishable sound. As you stumble towards the bathroom, you nearly collide with the door, your mind spinning. But before you can push it open, you see Suna standing there, his tall frame blocking your path.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and familiar, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hi,” you answer.

He is about to get out of the way to let you through, but a voice urges you to make him stay. You need to say something; anything. And suddenly, the words tumble out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered. “I still love you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of something—regret, maybe—in his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says after what feels like an eternity, but his voice is distant, like he’s trying to put space between you even if he stands right in front of you.

You take a step closer, “I never stopped thinking about you, you know. I'm so fucking in love with you, Rin...”

He hesitates, his eyes searching your face as if he’s trying to decide whether you’re being serious or if it’s just the alcohol talking. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

Before you can respond, he reaches out and gently takes the drink from your hand. “I’m gonna go find Umi,” he says, as if that will fix everything, as if walking away again is the solution.

But the panic starts to rise in you, sharp and unyielding. You can’t breathe; the walls feel like they’re closing on you. You need to get out—now. Without thinking, you turn and rush out of the apartment.

You’re almost outside when someone catches up to you at the stairs, grabbing your arm firmly to stop you.

Osamu.

“Hey, where're ya goin'?” he asks worried.

“I need to leave,” you choke out, barely able to get the words past the tightness in your throat. “I can’t stay here, Osamu. I just can’t.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Let’s go to the restaurant.”

The ride is silent. When you arrive at the restaurant, Osamu parks the car and helps you out, guiding you inside. He leads you to a seat and disappears into the back, returning moments later with a glass of water.

“Drink this,” he says gently, pressing the glass into your hands.

You take a sip, the cool water soothing your parched throat. It feels good. But it does nothing to ease the void in your chest. The alcohol is starting to wear off.

Osamu sits down across from you, watching you closely. He doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you almost break down right there in front of him, but you force yourself to keep it together. You’ve already shown too much tonight.

“You’re always so kind to me…” You look down at your drink, fingers grabbing the glass tighter.

“We’re friends.” He simply says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t deserve it.” You’re ashamed to look at him.

He says your name firmly, “Don’t say that.”

But you cut him off, “I’m a mess.”

He gets up to get closer to you, you hear the chair squeak against the floor, and he grabs your shoulder to make you look at him. He’s so close, you think he can hear your heartbeats.

“Yer hurt. Ya haven’t seen him in months, it’s normal to feel like that. But yer not a mess,” he hesitates and smiles a little, “and even if ya were, I’ll be there for ya. That’s what friends do.”

You study each feature of his face; his eyebrows; his eyes; his nose and an inch further down…

Your lips end up on his.

You grab the back of his head to tank him down, his hands brush your skin all the way from your shoulder to your free fingertips where he intertwines them with his.

You’re kissing Osamu.

You push him quickly, “Oh my god I’m sorry.” You suddenly get up, panic invading you, “I didn’t mean to - oh my god… I must look so desperate right now.”

“Kissing me makes ya look desperate? Gosh Champion, that hurts.” He lets out a small laugh and his kindness makes you want to cry. You're too drunk to decipher how he really feels.

You finally explode. Tears flow like a waterfall. You friend pulls you against him, you feel the warmth of his shirt against your cheek, and you grab his back with strength, afraid that if he steps away, you’ll crumble.

You don’t remember what happened after that. What you know is that you fell asleep at some point and Osamu stayed by your side.

When you wake up, the sun has barely risen. Your back hurts, your head is pounding, your throat is dry. You take a look at your surroundings; you’re lying down on some bench in Osamu’s workplace. It’s calm, way too calm. You try to remember last night, but your headache makes it hard to think straight.

“Mornin’, should I take ya home?”

Osamu’s voice surprises you, you gulp and nod, unable to come out with a coherent answer. His jacket is covering your body like a blanket, you’re about to give it to him but he interjects quickly, “put it on. It’s cold outside.”

“Thanks,” you answer with a broken voice. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him.

Osamu tells you it’s Sunday and 7am as if he sees how disoriented you are. The neighbourhood is quiet, it reminds you of the day Suna broke up with you. The calm before the storm.

Speaking of storm, Suna is standing in front of your house, hands in his pocket, back lean against the wall.

You get out of the car with Osamu, confused.

Suna clears his throat and when he decides to speak, there’s hesitation in his voice, “Can we talk?”

Osamu is standing between him and you, but somehow, he feels invisible. The way you look at Suna like he is the centre of your solar system is threatening. He will always be your first choice; what did Osamu think? His body moves on instinct, and he takes a step back towards his car.

“I…” he starts, “’Tsumu probably made a mess, I’ll go check on the apartment.”

You agree but avoid his gaze.

A moment passes and you’re alone with Suna. It’s been so long you think you forgot how to be with him. How are you supposed to talk to him? Call him?

“I was worried yesterday. I went looking for Umi, but you had disappeared.”

“Were you really?” You ask, there’s poison in your voice. You feel the blood in your veins rushing through your whole body.

He takes the time before responding, “Of course.”

“Rin… You're telling me you're worried about me because I disappeared one evening, when you didn’t ask me how I was even once in the past six months? That’s nonsense.”

“I get that you’re angry, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He seems honest and it kills you. You clench your fists. How are you supposed to react to that?

Your mind goes through all sort of emotions, incomprehension, anger, frustration. You finally speak again, “Why?”

“Why?”, he echoes, puzzled.

“Why did you break up with me? And don’t lie to me.”

His lips open and close a few times. His hands come in and out of his pockets awkwardly. “I… I was stupid. I guess I got tired of our relationship. Hiroshima, the club, my friends, everything was new, and it was exciting. And when we were together, it felt like it was holding me back.”

He looks at you and quickly explains more, “But I was wrong and stupid. You’ve been my pillar for all those years, ever since we broke up, I feel lost and I keep doing shitty things.”

“We did not break up Rin, you dumped me, like I was nothing.” You remind him. You can almost feel your nails rip off the skin of your palms from clenching too hard.

“I’m sorry…” He looks down at the floor. He looks so pitiful but even so, he is still beautiful.

You hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you. He is vulnerable right now, almost weak which puts you in a position of power, and yet, deep down, he has you wrapped around his fingers, still he has your heart caged in his hands. How unfair, how unfair.

“What do you want?” You ask him, trying to sound suspicious.

“I was hoping we…we could start over.”

“Loving you ruined my life Rin, how am I supposed to trust you again?”

Of course, you would ask him that. Suna is far from stupid—he knows exactly what he’s done. Until yesterday, he wasn’t even sure if you still loved him. Why would you, after everything? But perhaps, there is a tiny flicker of hope. So, he tries.

“Let me show you that it can be worth it.”

“Where-where does that come from? You barely looked at me once last night, I told you I still loved you and you said nothing back.” Your voice trembles.

“I did look at you, I swear, more than I thought I would. I didn’t expect to feel like that when I saw you, but something was weird in my heart and when you told me you loved me, I panicked. I acted like a jerk, you have all the right in the world to hate me,”

You cut him off, “I could never. You know that.” Your fists relax.

There’s hope, there’s hope, he hangs on to the thought.

“So… Please let me make it up to you.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

He squints as if the accusation bothers him, but you have to know the truth.

“Rin.”

He doesn’t ask who you are talking and simply answers with a shy “yes.”

You deserve better,

You will find someone else,

Let go of him.

Your heart sings and the words give you the courage to walk past him.

“Wait.”

He says your name and grabs your arm.

One touch. It’s all it takes for you to melt, for your heart to forget all the pain it has been enduring for months.

You hesitate but your hand finds his cheek and you brush a strand of hair. How soft, you think. He closes his eyes, and his forehead leans against yours.

“Please,” the murmur sinks into your body.

“Let’s try.” You give up. You have been waiting for him to come back to you for so long, you have dreamed about those words so many nights. You don't have any other choice but to trust him now.

A comfortable silence settles between you, it almost makes you believe you’re in a dream. You decide to take a step back, but Rin doesn’t let go of your arm.

“I forgot my phone at the boys’ apartment.”

“I’ll come with you.” He hurries to say, afraid you would runaway if he doesn’t follow you.

“‘Tsumu is still sleepin’, Umi left an hour ago.” Osamu explains with a quiet voice once you’re back in the apartment. He hands you your phone.

“O-okay.”

You look around you. The living room is a mess, more than what you remember from last night.

Last night.

Your heart skips a beat.

“Hey, Osamu?” you start carefully, he waits for you to go on, “is everything okay, I mean between us?”

“Sure.”

“Sorry about last night.” You feel extremely guilty. You might have gotten the boy you love back but you can’t bear to lose one of your best friends.

“Last night? What happened last night?” He smiles. You’re relieved; your secret will be safe with him (he is so precious, you tell yourself). You’re about to answer but he lifts his eyes from your face, and you turn to see what has caught his attention.

Suna.

“We should go.” You say.

Osamu thinks you’re talking to him but when he sees you facing your ex-boyfriend he is confused. Suna’s answer confirms his doubts. Something is going on between you two.

“Yeah.” He takes your hand, “thanks for last night Osamu. I have a game in Osaka next month, I'll text you.”

Osamu is unable to answer.

“I'll see you tomorrow at the restaurant," you conclude with a soft smile.

“Hmm, see ya.”

You're afraid to see disappointment on your friend's face so you don't turn back. Everything will be perfect from now on, just like it was before the break up. You are going to be happy and loved and cherished.

The knot in your stomach is normal, you try to convince yourself, there is nothing to worry about.

Absolutely nothing.

author notes: i won't get mad if you want to scream at me :)

Elie

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @obibiwan, @teyvatsunsets, @sugacor3, @hanadulsetaad

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hauntedwitch04 · 11 months

Text

Bday secret party

Remus Lupin x reader

Words: about 2.0k words

Warnings: pure and awesome fluff (after yesterday ahaha), lovely Remus, my obsession with Edimburgh

Author's note: Hi! Here another one shot fo the series for my birthday. Hope you like it loves.

Requests are open I Ask

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Bday plan

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"James, I swear if you said anything to her I will hang you upside down from the astronomy tower for an entire day." Remus says in a particularly annoyed and contrite tone.

The young werewolf immediately felt guilty for talking that way to his friend, but at the same time he couldn't believe that James had almost screwed up the whole plan he had designed to put on your birthday party. He had been planning everything down to the last detail for a month now, to make sure everything is perfect on your big day, and he couldn't let a chatty deer ruin everything just because he's careless.

He sees pure fear in his friend's eyes after threatening him with one of his greatest fears: height.

"Sorry." Whispers James, as he backs away slowly to make room for his friend, seeing that he is stressed right now. "But I swear she didn't understand anything. It just slipped out that I had to see you to arrange something, and I said it was my gift to her." Potter continues, as he looks at Sirius, who up to this moment had been silent. Immediately his best friend understands the plea for help and nods.

"Yes, she didn't understand anything, we were very good at lying to her." Says the older Black, as Regulus runs a hand over his face, remembering the scene that took place a short time ago in the Great Hall. Indeed James and Sirius had been good at creating a believable excuse, but I young Black knows you better than you think, and he had seen in your eyes the seed of doubt, and he knows that this is not good at all. In your group of friends you are known for having a sixth sense and a spirit of observation so keen that sometimes it seems you can read people's minds and, even, the future. The very moment they've said their shit, Regulus knows that some strange mechanisms have been activated in your mind that have caused you to weigh all possible options, and so he knows they're screwed.

"No, you have to excuse me. I didn't think organizing a birthday was so hard, but at the same time I want everything to be perfect for her, because she deserves it." Remus confesses, as he holds his head in his hands, trying to relax.

"You know she's going to say you're overreacting anyway and she doesn't deserve it." Regulus comments, as he puts away the last things for the party. Your birthday would be celebrated this evening, after a romantic walk between you and your fiancé. Remus had managed to convince the prefect with the Ravenclaw night shift to turn a blind eye, and would thus take you in front of the Room of Requirement, afterwards around the park, and there all your friends would surprise you. It was a well-thought-out plan, and it still doesn't explain how you didn't actually almost come to find out only today and not weeks before.

"Which is silly after all he gives every day for us." Sirius continues, as James nods, placing balloons on the wall. "Our mother deserves a proper celebration." The oldest Black concludes, making all three other boys laugh. "Ever since you and Remus got together, the boys started calling you the 'mom' of the group, since they always teased Remus for being their dad in a way, since he was the most responsible of the four.

When they finish laughing they go back to work to sort out the last few things for the party, knowing that it is now only a short time away. Right now you are supposed to be with the girls, whose job it is to distract you from the absence of your friends and your boyfriend, but Remus cannot help but keep fidgeting both behind every little detail and out of fear that at any moment you might walk in the door and find out why he has not been very close to you these past few weeks, but after all, part of him knows it might be because of the gift he gave you.

Remus keeps moving like a damned soul without rest for a while before Regulus stands up and blocks him with a hand on his shoulder.

"Man, everything is perfect, why don't you just relax for a moment?" The youngest among them asks the werewolf, but immediately Regulus sees in his friend's eyes that there is something else and not just what they are preparing that is upsetting him.

"There is something that doesn't give you peace." Regulus comments, and Remus says nothing, and just looks at him. "It's not like it's the gift you gave her, is it?" The Slytherin continues, marveling at the Gryffindor in front of him.

"How did you do that?" Lupin asks, increasingly shocked by young Black's prowess, when the other in response merely laughs.

"You were playing with a little box earlier, and can one read the doubt and fear in your eyes?" Regulus explains, continuing to laugh, while Remus in response rolls his eyes and looks at the clock, seeing that it was almost time to see you, so he gets up.

"It's almost time for our walk. Take care guys, the others should be here soon. Don't screw up please." Lupin asks as he looks at his friends, who reassure him and give him pats of encouragement.

"Go and return victorious with the lady messer Lupin." Sirius says, giving him a sort of bow, just before Remus walks out the door. He turns and as a last thing gives him a middle finger, after promising never to let him see "The princess bride" again.

Remus could feel his own heart beating in his throat as he saw you coming downstairs in simple jeans and his favorite sweater. You are simply perfect in his eyes, and nothing could change his mind.

"Finally, it seems like I haven't seen you in forever. Where have you been until now?" You ask curiously, seeing him a little stressed. "Are you okay? You look a little pale honey."

Immediately his heart warms at hearing your concern, and he can't help but think that maybe those nutty friends of his are right to call you "mom," and gently the boy shakes his head.

"I'm fine honey, maybe I just need to get some air. Would you like to take a ride with me?" He asks, and he doesn't even have to wait a second for an answer, as like a hurricane you pounce on him, taking him under your arm and running toward the school grounds. You walk around the lawns for a while, laughing and joking like you haven't in a long time. Nothing could dent your mood, and nothing exists apart from each other at this moment.

From the outside, one can see obvious the love you feel for the other person, only from your eyes, more than from your gestures, which seem to sing the most beautiful love song ever heard.

Hours seem to pass, then Remus looks at his watch and realizes that you are running late, so with the excuse that he has to catch another prefect in one of the side corridors to get the keys to a closet for the next prank James and Sirius are planning, he takes you in front of the mystery room. He's never felt more flustered than he does right now, and he's doubtful whether to give you the gift now or later, when you, damned curious as usual, lean out and touch the door.

"How come the room of needs is visible?" Ask curiously, as you watch him break into a cold sweat and try to play the part of the one who hides nothing.

"I have no idea my dear, try opening it and see what's behind it." Try suggesting Remus, as he rests a hand on your shoulder to guide you into the darkness of the room that opens before you. A few seconds pass and just as you're wondering what the point of it all is, the lights come on and all your friends pop out from behind couches and armchairs, shouting who "surprise" who "happy birthday," but all with beaming smiles on their lips as they come to hug you.

You immediately feel tears in your eyes, which you let run, because of the happiness and excitement they made you feel seeing so many people gathered to celebrate you.

Once you've greeted everyone you turn to Remus, who looks at you smiling, his hands behind his back.

"Did you arrange everything?" You ask in amazement as you look around and try to memorize every single detail of everything around you. "You didn't have to-"

"Yes I had to. You deserve this and much more than I can give you, you deserve the world, indeed the universe. And it wasn't just me, everyone helped me in some way." He interrupts you, as he circles your shoulders with one arm, and you hold him even tighter to you, squeezing his waist. "I love you, and all I want to do is remind you of that every day, but today especially, after all it's your day, and we all came here just for you, because we all love you, me more than all of them." He continues, resting his forehead on yours. Then he freezes for a moment, right for a few seconds and pulls out a box from his pants pocket.

"I want to give you my present now, because I want you to think about it." He says and you, confused for the umpteenth time this evening, wipe away the last of your tears and then pick up the box he is handing you. It is a black velvet box, and when you open it you see a pair of keys. You look up not understanding what they were, so your boyfriend explains.

"These are the keys to an apartment in Edinburgh, in your favorite area, which I may or may not have asked an old family friend to rent to me and my girlfriend, once I finished school, if she wanted to move in with me. What do you say, what will she decide?" He asks as he strokes your face and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. You can't help but cry again before you go back to hugging him, just enough to take his breath away, your arms wrapped around his neck.

"I don't even have to think about it, the answer is obviously yes idiot." You whisper between the kisses you leave all along his face, making him laugh, while a few tears escape him as well. "You know you're pretty dumb for the smartest guy I know, it was obvious my answer was yes. And me thinking for a moment today that you had found a new girlfriend and were going to break up with me, damn how stupid I am."

Both of you laugh, still clasped in each other's arms, enjoying that closeness you had missed so much.

"I love you more than my own life, how could I ever look for another girl, when I have the most perfect girl that exists in the whole universe?" Remmy says in a whisper in your ear.

"I love you too Lupin, but you don't have to suck up, look you've already won your reward tonight." You counter by winking at him and he jokes by raising his eyebrows and whispering "I won, let's hurry up and leave this party then," making you laugh, until that sweet moment is interrupted as usual by the grace of Sirius Mr.Elegance of the Year Black.

"Do you want to be part of the party too, or are you going to be lovebirds the whole party?" He asks to throw a handful of confetti at you.

"I guess your reward will have to wait for Lupin." You say, as you hear him laugh, and together you go to enjoy this party with your friends, while in your mind already what will happen tonight in your own personal after party.

TAGLIST

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#hauntedwitch04's writing #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #remus x reader #marauders imagine #marauders fluff #becky's bday

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six-eyed-samurai · 7 months

Text

LETTERS TO SANEMI

This can be read as a standalone, but if you'd like you can read my previous thoughts on Genya's literacy.

dear aNiki,

kocho gave me a Notebook today aNd told me to write down any after efects or experiNces after eating a demoN iN here but said I should also keep a jourNal to show you oNe day. she gave one to tokito to for his memory loss I thiNk.

she started teachng me how to write receNtly. she said if I caN’t become a hashira or talk to you by the time i've fiNished learNiNg, i can come up with a good apologi letter for you.

himejima-saN is very proud that I'm learNiNg how to write. he was sad he couldn't teach me Himself but Now I can help Him deliver messages he caN't write or Read.

i caN't do aNy breathiNg techNiques, but himjima-saN’s traiNing is iNteNse eNough that i can slay demons eveN without eating them sometimes. maybe i will be able to become the first hashira without a techNique.

Im Not sure yet Of what to write iN here, so thats all for Now. I hope you like the ohagi I seNt you. kocho said she'd pass it for Me.

***

Dear Aniki,

I'm very embarrassed to say this, but when I showed Kocho my writing it turned out I got a lot of things wrong. She was very nice about it when she saw how red I was but couldn't teach me today so the Butterfly Girls had to do it. I think they were too scared to laugh but it's embarrassing anyway to have them know more about writing than I do.

For one apparently I got all my captal (is that how you spell it?) letters wrong. Small letter n and captal letter N are also very different and it's confusing. And I'm glad Himejima-san won't find out I didn't write his name correctly.

The demon I ate the other day left me with a very weirdly shaped hand that hasn't gone away yet, so I'll stop writing for now since it's tiring to hold a pencil with talons. Kocho offered to cut my nails for me but I said no because she was going to use her katana.

***

Dear Aniki,

It really hurt me to find out you threw away my apology letter. I really want to apologize for that night but you keep pushing me away. Are you disappointed in me for joining the Corps or because I can't use breathing techniques? I promise I'll do better.

At least you didn't reject my ohagi. I found out because Tokito was eating it when I met him today. The Mist Pillar is really weird. I didn't know his amnesia was so bad to this state he wandered into the room I was staying in at the Butterfly Mansion thinking it was his. I found him standing by the window holding my gun without moving for about ten minutes. I thought he was a girl for a second so it kind of stunned me into silence. He didn't even notice I was there until I yelled at him to put it down.

It was really awkward at first because I had to explain to him it wasn't his room and he had to explain to me he wasn't a girl, then there was an awkward pause where we just stared at each other. He called me a rooster too…which is still confusing.

I find it really hard to believe he's fourteen and already a Pillar. Jealous, really, because he gets to see you and I don't. Although he called you a wolf and I'm not sure what that means when I asked him where he got the ohagi from and he said the “old white wolf looking Hashira…I forgot. I think I bought it…wait, but I didn't bring any money.”

Somehow I ended up agreeing to his demand of training with him first thing tomorrow to show him how to use a gun. Thankfully the side effects of the demon I ate is gone now.

Kocho told me he'll probably forget about it though.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today's my birthday. Do you miss me as much I do for you? I wish I can still celebrate it with our siblings and mom, or at least with you.

Kinzaki and the Butterfly Girls made me a cake. Kocho gave me a new yukata after I ripped my old one from my last fight. Her tsugoku gave me a coin for whatever reason. But I got really shy and didn't say much.

Muichiro forgot it was my birthday and thought it was Kocho’s, so he gave me her present. He thought it was funny to pin the butterfly to my hair. The girls started giggling at me so I chased him around the Butterfly Mansion.

Himejima-san gave me a cat. She's very cute. I named her Shizu, after mom. She followed me everywhere and even peed on Muichiro’s foot. He said she was stupid but later on I found him carrying her around.

Her white fur made me think of you. If you ever forgive me one day I'm sure you'll love her too. She likes the smell of ohagi too apparently.

***

Dear Aniki,

Rengoku-san the Flame Pillar and Kanroji the Love Pillar came to visit Himejima-san today. Rengoku-san gave me ohagi, so I thanked him but he said it wasn't from him. I'm praying this means you don't completely hate me.

Muichiro came over to Himejima-san’s estate today too by mistake, but he decided to stay and train with me anyway. He asked to see Shizu and that's when I realized she was missing.

How hard could it be to find a snowy white cat? That's what we thought until we (me mostly, Muichiro kept forgetting where he had looked) hunted everywhere for her. Then Rengoku-san said he saw her run pass him and when we looked she jumped off a tree and took off.

I still can't stop turning red whenever I think about how I slammed into Kanroji chasing Shizu, so I immediately ran off with Muichiro. I hope if I meet her again she'll have forgotten about it.

Dumb cat.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today that Kamado kid - the one who broke my arm back at Final Selection after I grabbed the Ubuyashiki girl; hope she doesn't hold it against me - picked up the stack of letters I accidentally dropped. You know it's the anniversary of everyone's death today, so I was planning on taking the letters I've been writing to them to burn. Usually I would just leave flowers and prayers at the shrine Himejima-san helped me make because we never got to bury them, but since Kocho taught me to write I decided to make a new tradition.

Anyway I knew he didn't mean to read them but I got mad anyway until he told me his family died the same way and he was happy that I was still honoring their memory of whatever. I wish me and you were like him and his sister. I wonder what would've happened if we had stayed together? I never meant to hurt you like that.

I don't remember writing any of this. Did I change my handwriting or something? Who's Aniki?

I've just chased away Muichiro. I can't believe he got our notebooks mixed up and started reading mine. I hope he didn't read anything…too personal. Foggy brained idiot just stared at me and left.

He came back later. He didn't apologize but handed me a watermelon. He's forgiven…I guess? I don't even want to know he got it from, especially when I can hear Kinzaki and that pig head boy shouting.

***

Dear Aniki,

Today's the day before the final battle and I don't have much time to write as much as I want to, so I'll make this entry quick.

Muichiro has become a much nicer person, and I've had a lot of fun with him over time. I'm gonna miss training with him and talking and cloud gazing together afterwards. I hope we both don't die. He called me his best friend the other day and although I got really flustered I don't want it to be the last time.

Kocho and the Butterfly Girls celebrated my “graduation” of learning how to write the other day. Maybe one day you'll be able to come and celebrate some other occasion with us.

I will never be able to repay everything Himejima-san has done for me. I owe him for the slayer I am today. I hope the wooden bracelet I carved will be able to convey it. I can write now but I'm no good with words.

I'm really grateful to Kamado and his sister for reminding me during the battle at the Swordsmith Village why I joined the Corps. I'm going to prove myself to you and apologize for once and for all. I don't know what I'm going to do if you keep pushing me away even after all this. I miss you a lot.

I swear we'll be brothers again after this battle.

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horseshoegirl · 1 year

Text

Damn Those Dog Tags: Part 23 - Sleep Deprivation

📜So... I really don't know what to say right now. As a writer, we are supposed to be able to form words into sentences that create worlds, characters... emotions... but I cannot bring myself to form the correct words to describe how grateful I am that you guys took a chance on me, writing this piece of fan fiction after an 8-year hiatus, wondering if I still had it, if I was enough. DTDT is the first piece of Fan Fiction I've ever finished, the first story I have ever finished. And along with you all, I've cried, I've laughed, I've wept, I've smiled over Sadie being herself and Liz standing up for what is right. Jake being who he is, and Bradley... well, he speaks for himself 😅 It's one thing to say you write fan fiction, but it's another thing to say that you want to write fan fiction for people who make you feel supported in what you do. This is my THANK YOU to you all. For your kind words and lengthy reblogs, for the comments, likes and support. DTDT only exists because of you guys. And I love every one of you from the bottom of my heart.

So... with a bittersweet mention, here is the final Part of DTDT. Part 23, Sleep Deprivation 😭

❗18+. Strong Language, Pure fluff, Original Female Character, Original Child Character, PDA, Just in case letters, and maybe a few tears...

#6K words

Part 22 | Masterlist

"Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday, Dear Sadie Bug, Happy Birthday to you!"

Cheers erupted throughout the Hard Deck as Sadie smiled at her family, all gathered and singing to her around the piano. Uncle Roo was playing, lightly swaying into her side, making her laugh. Alyssa had her hand on Uncle Roo's shoulder, and the rest of the Dagger Squad was scattered about, singing along with the crowd.

She turned eleven today, and while she loved the fact everyone was here, with her celebrating, she found that the best gift she ever could have received was in how she saw you smile, here and now, with Uncle Jake holding you close. You were smiling like you used to, long before you had left to live in this small town she now called home.

Uncle Jake had lived up to his promise. He reminded you that you were worth it. He made you happy. And he tried.

She didn't need anything else.

"Sadie," a hesitant voice called from behind her. She spun on the piano stool, only to find a single yellow tulip attached to a slightly shaky hand in front of her face.

"Happy Birthday." Will smiled crookedly.

You felt Jake tense up against your back, his chest puffing out and his grip on your waist near the point of pain. Bradley even twisted at the sound of Will's voice, staring him down above the rim of his father's Raybans.

While Bradley might be dating his mother and, albeit, starting to bond with Will, he knew a wooing attempt when he saw one. Sadie's heart was another matter entirely.

You and Alyssa giggled softly at Sadie, blushing as she took the flower and at Jake and Bradley for shooting each other, what you could only describe as an "overprotective dad vibe."

Sadie delicately grasped the tulip, her eyes lighting up as she glanced at Will. "Thank you," she managed to say, her voice a mix of appreciation and surprise.

A silent exchange passed between Jake and Bradley. It was as if they had reached an unspoken agreement, a united front. Will had no idea what he was up against, two grown men ready to go to comedic if not slightly absurd, lengths to stir hardship to any boy that dared to approach Sadie.

Will shot his mom a look, who nodded at him encouragingly.

"Do you wanna.. go play on that old arcade machine in the back?"

Sadie went to open her mouth, an eager yes about to escape her lips, until she thought she heard a growl coming from behind her. She turned back, seeing her Uncle Roo first, his jaw tight. Her Uncle Jake wasn't that far off either, his nose flaring with each breath he took, glaring down at her best friend.

She shot you a pleading, panicked look, hoping you could see the desperation on her face.

Jake and Bradley opened their mouths, Jake's voice overtaking Bradley's as he went, "Over my dead..."

But they were cut short. You had taken your arm resting on top of the piano and jabbed Jake in the gut with your elbow. Alyssa had caught on, grabbing a lock of Bradley's hair at the back of his head and tugging once hard.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied, jutting your head urgently towards the back. You silently mouthed, 'Go. Now!' and Sadie giggled, scrambling off the bench with her flower in hand, running off with Will towards the back.

Alyssa let go of Bradley's hair, prompting him to shout out, "What the Hell!" as you turned to face Jake.

"Relax, both of you. She's eleven!"

Jake pouted, clutching his stomach. "That little shit stole my idea. Only I get to give her a yellow tulip... it's a tradition at this point, and here he comes, swooping in with his tulip-like he's Mr. Original. It's my thing with her."

"Hey, that's my son you're talking about, Seresin!"

You tapped the back of his head with your hand, biting your lip to stiff your giggle. "He's a kid, Jake! It's just a tulip, not a wedding ring."

That was definitely the wrong thing to say.

Jake gulped hard, and you swore you saw a flash of pure terror cross his face. "No, Nope. No. I just got to call her mine. I need to do the things with her before she properly grows up," he sputtered. "A wedding ring? Liz, she's eleven! Don't put that mental image in my head. She's our girl, don't do that!"

Jake wasn't kidding about Sadie being his, not really.

Once the two of you brought Sadie home from Camp, you sat her down and asked if she was okay with Jake moving in. Of course, Sadie was ecstatic, nodding her head and asking 'when' or 'how soon', which prompted the two of you to start to plan things seriously. But it also posed the question Ridley had to consider the second Sadie was born.

Who would look after her if something happened to you?

It was nothing formal. You merely had to change your Will, stipulating that Jake would be the one to get her should anything happen. But Jake treated it as if it actually was, boasting to anyone he could about his niece. The words practically rolled off his tongue with ease and that sheer cocky confidence he was known for. It also didn't surprise you when you found information packets lumped on top of his computer in your office about the process for formally adopting.

It just further proved to you how much Jake wanted to be in your life.

"She has a good head on her shoulders, Jake. And she adores you," you remarked, looping your arms around his neck. Jake's chest rumbled against yours as he huffed. "Besides, I think you set a good example. She clearly expects high standards."

He let out a grumble, and you could only laugh and stand on your toes to plant a kiss on his lips. "You'll always be the reigning champion in this house, Hangman."

"I agree with Jake, Liz. We need to lock her in a tower."

You dropped your head to Jake's chest before you turned to roll your eyes at Bradley. You caught sight of Sadie in the distance, and she met your eyes and gave you a thumbs up, the tulip still in her other hand. The message was clear; she was okay, she was happy. That's all that mattered to you.

"Want another?" you asked the two of them, gathering their empty bottles. The both of them nodded, and you shook your head as Jake stepped into the space you vacated, leaning over the side of the piano to scheme with Bradley. You rolled your eyes at Alyssa, who shooed you on your way.

You smiled at Penny as you approached the bar, holding the empty bottles out to the air, signalling for two more. It's not as if you couldn't have gotten them and added them to a tab yourself, but Penny was adamant you didn't work tonight.

Your phone rang out and vibrated within the pocket of your dress. You pulled it out, wondering who could be calling you. Everyone who possibly could be was here at the Hard Deck, celebrating Sadie's Birthday.

Then, you saw the caller ID.

The bottles slipped from your fingers, shattering upon impact with the floor.

Not that you noticed, but everyone's heads lifted and turned towards the sound of breaking glass. Jake was the first to reach you, mindful of the broken glass at your feet. Then Bradley, Alyssa, Nat, and all of the Daggers swarmed you, knowing your history with phone calls and wondering what else might be thrown at you this time.

You pressed accept on the tiny device, bringing your phone to your ear, eyes wide as you stared at Jake, panting hard.

"Hello?"

Penny had yelled for someone to turn off the jukebox and for everyone to shut up. It was dead quiet, but for the sound of your voice and the tiny speaker of your phone, the entire bar invested in the outcome of your call.

Jake wanted to reach for you, but he didn't know if he should, wanting to leave you to have your space to deal with whoever was on the other end of that call. You turned your back to face him as the other person started speaking, you pressing a knuckle to your lips and biting down hard.

Everyone watched you nod and heard the question, 'What does that mean for us?' cross your lips.

"What..?" Rooster started to say, breaking the silence. Jake shot his arm out, shaking his head.

But the second he saw you grip your forearm and your skin turning red, he stepped forward, uncaring as glass crunched under his boots, to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Yes, thank you. I'll call if I have any more questions."

You squeezed Jake's hand once he gripped yours, and you hung up the phone. Turning to face the group, you looked at them with a shocked look on your face.

"Liz? Darlin?" Jake asked. "What happened?"

You swallowed, hardly believing what you heard yourself. "Uh...Tyler got thirty years to life."

A few collective gasps went around the room.

"They got him on attempted kidnapping, two counts of physical assault, and.. and murder."

Jake reached for your face and cradled your cheek. "Murder?"

You nodded, silent tears falling from the corners of your eyes. "There was a traffic camera... that fucking white car... the spoiler on the back... they caught him chasing her..."

Your words were fractured sentences as Jake combed your hair back from your face, you trying to sort between your thoughts and the information you had been given.

"That was the district attorney. I didn't even know he had a court date," you sniffed. "His whole family is going down for this... and there was a jury too. Apparently, they didn't take kindly to him attacking an active and decorated Naval Aviator."

Jake huffed, a soft smile on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. You could tell he was stuck somewhere between relief and discomfort.

You raised your eyebrow at him. "Are you okay?"

He was. Tyler was truly well and out of your lives, and that was a good thing. But somewhere deep down, Jake felt as if the universe had twisted things to make him the hero in a story where the true victims were you and Sadie. It didn't sit right with him.

"I don't wanna sound like an ass, but my career shouldn't have had any bearing that decision."

You shook your head, touched by his reaction. "It doesn't matter, Jake. Not to me. He's going away."

You pressed your forehead to his, a happy sob escaping your lips at the realization suddenly washing over you. "He won't be able to get near Sadie ever again. And Ridley finally has justice for what happened to her. We're free."

Jake pressed a quick kiss to your lips, smiling as you gasped another deep breath. The second he pulled away, letting his nose rest beside yours, you chanted out happily, "We're free!"

Cheers went up around the Hard Deck, and Penny rang the bell, singling a free round on the house. The rest of the Daggers sighed with relief, lamenting about needing a drink, while Rooster whooped, running back to the piano and sliding along the bench as he ran his fingers across the keys.

Yet Jake and you stayed where you were, staring at each other with echoing smiles.

A well-known piano riff sounded off the walls of the Hard Deck, and Jake and you fought the urge to roll your eyes, using the distraction to slip out onto the hard deck patio and over to a grassy part of the beach. You could hear Rooster's playing at a distance, but it was enough not to be a bother.

You went to step forward, but Jake pulled you back by the grip he had on your hand, spinning you under his arm. You giggled, your head tilted back as you went, only to find Jake's hand resting flat on the curve of your back, urging the two of you to slow dance.

Bright orange rays hit the side of Jake's face. Hues of gold, pinks, and soft yellows, all sculpting his jawline, shining tiny flecks into his eyes, and casting a glow into his hair. They highlighted the small, affectionate small that was tugging at the corner of his lips. Jake's Mona Lisa smile was one thing, but this was one that was only reserved for you.

"Is this going to be our thing?" you asked him. "Watching sunsets?"

Jake smirked. "We could do a sunrise to switch things up?"

You let Jake spin you under his arm again, a smile on your face. He pulled you back to him, hooking both his arms around your waist while yours wrapped themselves around his neck.

"No," you smiled, swaying with him across the grass, thinking of when you went to visit Ridley. "I think sunsets are reserved just for us."

---

Despite having a party at the Hard Deck, Sadie's birthday did happen to fall on a Saturday night. So it was only natural one of her birthday wishes ended up being that she wanted these fun-filled nights to continue.

Who were you to deny her that request?

It was just the team that came back to your place afterwards for cake, your backyard lit up by your string lights and the glowing flames of your bonfire pit, music blasting from your speakers. Sadie had just finished opening her gifts from the squad, and Jake and you had saved yours for last.

Jake reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, flicking the stand back on the case and propping it on the edge of the pit. It let out a shrill tone, and Sadie squinted her eyes at the tiny screen, wondering who Jake had decided to call, now of all times.

Suddenly, a woman who looked just like him appeared on the screen.

"Is this Sadie?!"

Sadie squinted her eyes. "Yes...."

Janet's face beamed with excitement. "It's so nice to meet you finally, my brother can't shut up about you. Happy Birthday, Sweetie."

"That's nice of him," she answered, though you knew what she was doing, challenging Janet to earn her affection.

"Which one are you?" Sadie pressed. Jake bit his tongue, fighting a grin.

Janet didn't hesitate when she replied, "Not the twit and not the one that needs a pitchfork shoved up his as... butt."

Sadie giggled, and Janet shamefully called out, "Sorry, Liz."

You shrugged. "She's heard worse."

You met Nat's eyes on the other side of the fire, noticing how she was watching Sadie contently.

"Uhhh," Janet remarked. "You actually kind of look like my brother."

"Do you have any embarrassing stories about him?" Sadie's high-pitched voice made you turn back toward the camera.

Janet glanced over towards you within the frame. "She really is your niece, isn't she?"

You laughed, and Sadie broke into a full smile, her guard dropping a bit. "I like her," she declared, glancing at you and Jake for your reactions.

"If you two are done squaring off.." Jake said, rolling his eyes. "Janet had a hand in your gift and wanted to watch you open it."

He placed a box in Sadie's lap, holding the edge so it wouldn't fall as she tore into it.

"Go on, open it," Jake encouraged with a little bounce in his voice.

Sadie tore at the wrapping paper, lifted the lid and gasped. "Cowboy boots!" she squealed, pulling them out to admire the intricately stitched patterns and the shine of the leather.

"Thought you might need a pair if you're gonna be an honorary Texan," Jake said, grinning from ear to ear.

Sadie lunged forward, giving him a huge hug. "Thank you, Uncle Jake!"

He laughed, hugging her back. "Thank Janet, too. She picked them out."

Sadie squealed out her thanks as she kicked her slip-ons off, quickly trying them on. Except she shrieked when her foot met something within the sole, and she pulled the boot off only to reach down and grasp a few hard pieces of paper.

With a dramatic flair, she pulled out three plane tickets, holding them up for everyone to see. Her eyes widened, and a squeal escaped her lips as she put two and two together. "Are these... are we going to Texas?!"

You took one from her hand, reading the front. "Jake, you didn't."

He shrugged. "She needs to see where her family is from."

Bradley audibly gagged from his spot on one of the chairs, and you barked out, "Can it, Bradley! Don't ruin the moment!"

"We'll see you soon, Aunt Janet," Sadie said, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with newfound enthusiasm.

"Counting the days, sweetheart," Janet said, waving goodbye as Jake ended the call.

As Sadie tried on her new boots, you reached down beside the bench to grab what would be Sadie's final gift of the night. You carefully slid it into her lap, placing a hand on her back.

"This one is from me... and your mom."

Sadie peered up at you with wide eyes before tearing into the box, practically tossing the lid off in haste. Her tiny hands tore at the tissue paper, and Jake was laughing at her eagerness as the tuffs flew up into the air.

She gasped when caught sight of the dark blue denim folded neatly into the box.

You found that Jean Jacket amongst Ridley's things in the storage unit, finding the courage to go through it finally and see what you could salvage or donate as you undertook the task of redoing Sadie's room. You knew as soon as you saw it that Ridley had been intending to give it to her as a gift, a twin butterfly and ladybug patches having been already sown into the material on the back.

That's what Sadie was seeing now, the jacket folded in such a way in the box only those two patches would be on display.

She wiggled her cowboy boot-clad feet back and forth in excitement as she grabbed the shoulders of the jacket, lifting it up out of the box to hold it in front of her. Jake grabbed the box and added it to the rest of the discarded wrapping paper.

Except as she held it up to inspect the back, the front was on display to everyone else sitting around the fire pit. Collective gasps and shouts of "What?!" sounded off, and you had to bite back your laugh.

"What the hell are those?!"

Sadie lowered the Jacket, peering over to see her Uncle Bob, ready to rat him out for swearing, when she saw his mouth was open like a fish. Twisting her brow, she flipped it over, a high-pitched gasp escaping her lips as she saw the two patches on the front.

The Dagger patch had been the most damaged one, but it was all too easy to grab the one plastered to one of the walls of the Hard Deck for reference. When Mr Murray asked why you wanted to use the busted one and not the one still intact, you had simply replied with, 'This one is special.'

It sat just next to the left breast pocket, perhaps standing out the most. But you, Sadie, and Jake hadn't been staring at that one. There was a second patch adorning the right breast pocket - a patch with a slight modification.

Sadie ran her finger across the gold-threaded wings before tracing the tiny words wedged in tight on either side below it. The tiny words that stood on top of the reason why this particular patch was now so special to her.

Proud niece of Hangman

To your surprise, it wasn't Bradley, but Nat, who yelled out first, "Hey! What about the rest of us?!"

Her shout set off a chain reaction around the group.

"It's not fair he gets to be on there first!"

"Why didn't you ask us too, Liz!?"

"There's a Dagger patch on there. All of us should be on there!"

But you weren't paying attention to any of them. You were looking at Jake, who had reached out to trace the patch as the jacket rested in Sadie's lap.

She looked up at him, hugging his side. "It's true, you know," she said a matter of factly. "I am proud of you, Uncle Jake. I always will be."

Jake snaked an arm around her back, hugging her and pressing a kiss to the top of her head, eyeing you with a smile. You would never stop surprising him—the both of you.

The Daggers were still arguing amongst themselves when Sadie scowled at them.

"Hey, guys!" She shouted, giving everyone pointed looks across your deck. "It's my birthday, shove it! He counts! And If I say he goes first, he goes on first, okay!?"

Everyone else, save Bradley, backed off.

"Guess I'm just chopped liver then."

Sadie narrowed her eyes, pushing herself to stand.

"You listen here, you big fat glorified chicken..."

You couldn't contain your laughter as Sadie marched over to Bradley, her finger pointed out in front of her as she started laying into him. Rooster looked scared, and you shook your head, wondering why he didn't realize Sadie would jump to Jake's defence the second she could.

Jake startled you as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"Meet you in the kitchen?" he spoke into your ear, squeezing his hand once before walking off, collecting the tray of dirty dishes on the table.

You stayed with Sadie for a few more minutes, making sure the rest of your crazy family didn't kill each other over who could have one of their patches on Sadie's jacket next. Though you'd never let on that Mav secretly slipped you one of his as he joined Sadie when she came back to sit with you.

As you sat there, watching the people who had come to mean so much to you, you felt an odd sense of what you could only describe as 'home' wash over you. It wasn't tied to a place but to your extraordinary found family. Because as much as they were there for Sadie, they were there for you too.

It was the peculiar kind of warmth they brought you, whether Nat was trying to get you to come out of your shell, Penny for acting like the defacto mother you didn't quite have most of your life, or Bob willing to be himself around you. It was in the way Mav cared for both you and Sadie as he did for each of his Daggers and how Coyote was always there when you needed him. How Payback and Fanboy made sure everyone was having fun, and how Rooster was the troubled brother you never had, a little broken, a little worse for wear, but genuinely kind-hearted.

Every family a bad egg after all, albeit bad wasn't the word you'd use to describe him at all.

They helped to fill the gaps left by your grief and sorrow, and you vowed to hold each of them a little closer. Because your life had been a pile of good things and also bad. The good didn't always soften the bad things you had to go through, but the bad never spoiled the good or made them unimportant in your life. Your life was messy and unpredictable but beautiful with its imperfections.

And you, somewhere along the way, were living with people who had chosen to stand by you in your darkest moments.

And Jake. Your Jake.

You turned to Sadie. "Think you can manage these guys while I help Uncle Jake?"

She smiled up at you, nodding, before looping her arm through Mav's, resting her head against his shoulder, tenderly glancing between some of her favourite people in the world.

Walking away, you paused at the back door, leaning up against the glass with your arms crossed as you found Jake humming, swaying along to the song currently playing outside as he worked, hands covered in suds as he diligently cleaned the dishes.

You faked a cough, startling Jake as the sponge slipped from his hands back into the dishwater.

"Anything I can help you with, Lieutenant?" you tease, playfulness in your tone and a grin gracing your lips. Jake narrowed his eyes at you, a cocky smirk on his face, then jerked his head to the empty space beside him.

"I wash. You dry?"

You walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, feeling him pause to place his hands over yours. You closed your eyes, pressing your cheek to his back and letting out a deep sigh.

A wave of profound gratitude washed over you. This man had chosen to love not just you but Sadie as well. He had stepped into your lives, filling spaces you hadn't even known were empty at a time when you weren't at your best. When you were fighting with yourself tooth and nail not to start a relationship, when you were missing your sister so much, the thought of her not being here was too great to bear. When you were scared to let anyone that close to you without Sadie's approval and yet, Jake somehow found his way.

You loved him. And there would never be a day in your life when you would let him forget it.

The two of you did the dishes, the odd comment or two passing by. The both of you knew a few of them would be sleeping over, you having already made up the pull-out in your office and Jake having gathered the spare pillows and blankets from your hall closet.

The two of you might have bumped your hips, teased one another, and shared a kiss or two. You might have blown bubbles in Jake's face, and he might have tapped you with the dish rag.

But when everything was said and done, and Jake was working to drain the sink, your eyes tracked to the top of the refrigerator, where that white envelope called out to you. It was wedged between your cookbooks, and you saw nothing else as you pushed yourself off the counter with both hands.

Reaching up, you worked the thick piece of paper out from between the books, only to hold it, staring at the front and absentmindedly tracing the writing on the surface.

Without looking up, you spun towards Jake, feeling a complex mix of emotions. Love, apprehension, vulnerability. But underpinning it all was an entwinement of a slight sadness, but more so serenity and acceptance.

"Hey, Jake," you said softly. Jake turned around, the smile on his face fading when he noticed you were holding a white envelope in your hands. A gentle smile was on your face as you looked down, closing your eyes once before lifting your head.

"I have something for you."

Taking the few steps needed to close the distance between you and Jake, you held out the envelope.

"Another letter?" he teased, slinging the dishtowel onto his shoulder and wiping his hands dry before taking it from your hands. He flipped it over, eyes searching the front until he spotted the fancy handwriting.

Jake's eyes shot to yours, utterly shocked. Yet, you didn't do anything except squeeze his wrist once and lean up to kiss his cheek. "I'll be out in the back with the others if you need me."

Jake remained frozen on your kitchen floor, watching as you walked out the back door. Sadie immediately ran to you, and you held out your arms, a cheerful laugh racking your chest as she hugged you tight.

Jake smiled at the sight, his girls laughing with one another as the music changed, and you wrapped your arms around her, waddling back and forth as the two of you started to dance. But then he felt the weight of the envelope you had given him, and he was drawn back down at the handwriting gracing the surface.

To him

Despite not having seen her handwriting, he knew who this letter was from. You had told him you had opened the shoebox about the letters Ridley had left for various points in either your or Sadie's lives.

He'd never expected Ridley to have written one for him... or at least, the idea of him.

Sitting at your kitchen table, he carefully opened the envelope, tilting it upside down to pull at the folded-up pieces of paper nestled inside. But as he pulled, several polaroids fell onto the table and a few to the floor.

Placing the letter off to the side, he reached down to scoop up the ones that had fallen, drawing in a sharp breath as he flipped one over.

The resemblance between Ridley and you was uncanny.

He didn't know what to expect, seeing a photo of her for the first time. Her eyes twinkled the same way yours did when you were happy, and the two of you shared the same dimples when you smiled. She had the same nose as you, the same hair colour, and the same face shape.

But there were also differences.

He smiled when he noticed the line of freckles spreading across her cheeks, the same type he knew scattered across your back. She had a scar running through her eyebrow and another matching just above her forehead.

But above all else, her smile echoed Sadie's, wide and happy.

He picked up another one, seeing you, as a teenager, laying in a hammock with a notebook and a feathered pen. Ridley had written along the white frame, an author in the making.

There was also one of Sadie as a baby, wrapped in a pink blanket, blue eyes wide as she stared up at the camera. And another of you holding her to your chest in a rocking chair, the two of you asleep. There were a few of you as a kid, another of you holding up a key with your tongue sticking out, and another at your graduation, Sadie on your shoulders stealing your cap.

Jake realized almost all the ones of you were strategically taken by your sister without your knowledge. It's so reminiscent of when Sadie sent that first Polaroid, the same circumstances - like mother like daughter.

Jake laid each out in front of him, lining them up to what he assumed was their chronological order, only to stare down at the story Ridley had left him. He felt his throat tighten as he looked at all of them. Even in the face of something as heartwarming as leaving him photographs of the three of you, the lingering weight of Ridley's absence was inescapable, and it hit him square in the chest.

Though he never had met her, the space she had left was undeniable. Seeing her now, he realized maybe he did know her. In Sadie's smile, in your will to take care of others, in the music she had shared with you and in both of your abilities to put somebody in their place rightly. It caused Jake to smile down at the only photo of her, resting on the table.

"It's nice to meet you, Ridley."

So finally, after the last photo, after the last word had been seen, and the last memory had been touched, Jake unfolded those pieces of paper and began to read.

To the person my sister loves,

Well, shit, she finally did it. My little sister finally found her, Mr. Darcy.

Sorry. As you probably have already discovered, the Beck sisters have a little Pride & Prejudice obsession. Totally my fault for naming my sister after a character in a book I fell in love with in school, but I took my chance when I saw it. But if you have the tendency sometimes to be a pompous asshole with an ego problem, then hey, at least she wasn't that far off the mark.

I'm sorry I'm not there to meet you. Whatever circumstances have prevented me from doing so. I'm sorry I can't have you over to a family dinner, ask about your life, and get to know you. For you to win me over, or for us to bat heads.

Just kidding... I'm more bummed about not being able to give you a shovel talk in person. But I know my daughter, and something is telling me Sadie would have already beaten me to it long before I had an actual chance. She has a thing about Lady Bugs, so run if you see her with an empty water bottle and she... Well, if you don't already know now, chances are you will eventually.

One way or another.

So I think this is my only chance to do it, sad as that is. Sad for you - you probably thought you were getting off scot-free. Nope, sir, I'm still going to kick your ass from my grave. So you better heed the wishes of a dead woman.

Now, she wouldn't have given you this letter if she didn't truly love you... if she didn't want to spend the rest of her life with you. She also must have made you promise to put Sadie first, and the fact you're holding this letter means you have. By her giving this to you, it means you are entirely worthy of her love.

(I don't write this as a means to scare you or warn you about what you're getting into. Cause no takebacks, sir, it's a done fucking deal now. I will so totally haunt your ass if otherwise. Sadie gets her wrath from me.)

There is so much more I want to tell you than I can fit into the pages of this letter. There will always be more, more things left unsaid, more things I never told them, or in what I'm telling you - God, the pressure to write something for someone you may never meet is hard…I hope you have a sense of humour cause I really don't stop rambling.

So, I guess I'll stick with three. Three things I want you to know…

One: Music does not solve all your problems.

Liz might try to tell you otherwise, that music can heal, and while I won't entirely disagree, you need to know the reason why. When we were kids, I'd play music to drown out the arguments, the slamming doors, the not-so-quiet sobs. The ability to guess a tune in just a few notes? That came from needing to know which song would best mask the sounds we didn't want to hear. The playlist wasn't just music; it was emotional armour. So when you listen to music with her, know that there's more beneath the surface. Beneath that lighthearted game is a history that's no game at all. When the playlist ends, and the distractions fade away, be the man who's there for her, not one that hides away when things get rough.

Two: A memory is no longer beautiful just because it fades.

People always used to ask me why I chose a Polaroid over a digital camera. With a Polaroid, each shot counts. You have a limited number of exposures, and each film cartridge is precious. There's no delete button, no do-over, just like in life. And when that photo develops in front of you, you have to wait for it to mean something. Once it does, it's permanent. You can hold it, you can touch it, you can pin it on a wall. But polaroids also fade.

Memories fade. But their value isn't in how long they last but in the ones you choose to capture in the first place. My sister and my daughter have been through a lot, so when you're building this life with them, be mindful of the moments you're capturing. Make those moments count. Make them worthy of being looked back on so there is no room for anyone to doubt the three of you didn't live a life that was not full of love.

Three: Grief is constant, unchanging, and complex - it is the most certain thing, next to death, we are guaranteed.

I have a very, very sneaky suspicion you are a pilot in the navy - hell, she works as a bartender in a navy bar; it was bound to happen with one of you lot (You just better not be the one Penny had called her about, rumoured to be sleeping with all the female bartenders... if you are... aha, good luck sir.. you're so in trouble - That's what Liz gets from me) so you know exactly what I mean. It's ingrained into your soul that each time you go up there, you might not come back down.

Liz struggles with grief and the knowledge that life is precious and fleeting. Don't add to it. Be the person who acknowledges it, who understands it, and chooses every day to make the time you have with them count. Life is fleeting; It can be gone in an instant. It's nothing we should ever take for granted, so please, please, from this dead woman pleading to the man my sister loves, please never take your life with her, with Sadie, as such.

They're both yours now, god help you. Liz, my dear sister, who cares too much. Sadie, my ladybug, who is too honest and sassy for a kid.

I've always put the two of them before myself. Liz has probably told you our story, so I won't rehash the nasty details in what's supposed to be a touching letter - I'm brutally honest, so when I say truly believe it was my sole purpose to be on this earth to 1) take care of my sister and 2) to create what happens to be, next to Liz, one of the most precious things in my life, I fucking mean it.

That being said, we need to make a slight amendment to the Sadie promise. Between the two of us, we need to add Liz to it too.

Lizzie needs to be reminded, given a list of all the reasons she's still here breathing, that she is doing right by what I want for the two of them. Because I know my sister, and she overthinks everything. She will be hanging on by a thread to every decision she will ever make with our Bug, wondering if she has done enough or if she is doing enough.

She already is. She already was.

And she doesn't owe me more than that.

You, however, do.

I need you to remind her of that - that she owes me nothing. I need you to take photos. Take as many as fucking possible. Go on hikes and look for the tiniest bugs. Make memories to hold on to and be the person who scares away Sadie's first date or holds her while she cries. To walk her down the aisle if she chooses and help her if she decides to have kids of her own.

Tell Elizabeth you love her. Every single day. Because you know as well as I do, you don't know the last time you'll be able to. Crawl into the bathtub with her when things get too much and hold her. All she needs is to be held, to know someone is there, standing by her. Thats it.

Stay up listening to vinyl with her, dance across a kitchen floor and make her laugh. Communicate with her. Please, for the love of fucking god, communicate with her about your feelings and your thoughts. She is such a good listener, and she cares so much for the people she loves. That's just who she is, so never forget it.

And promise me this one last favour...

There are more letters like this one in the red box I know she's probably only just opened, probably a long time after I'm gone. Mostly for Sadie, but there are some for Liz... maybe a couple more for you. I'm not sure yet, I'm honestly just making this up as I go.

Can you please make sure they open them? Go through the pile of memories I've left in there every so often?

I'm not being egotistical when I say I know I'm going to be missed. Grief does that to people. It's really just love, wanting to be given but with no place to go. I know those two will always love me in life and in death.

But remind them I know. Remind them I love them too - even if I'm not physically there to tell them myself.

This ended up being not as much of a shovel talk as I thought it was going to be, mostly cause I don't have anything to threaten you with truly.

But how about this, instead?

It's probably weird that I want to say thank you, right? Thank you for falling in love with my sister. Thank you for being there for her, for Sadie. For loving them when I cannot.

But I want to anyway. Because they mean everything to me, and it is my only hope they mean everything to you.

So wherever I am, whether it's in the clouds or in a fucking ray of sunshine, or if I'm a freaking bug, I can only hope I get to see the three of you be with each other in every way that matters.

Even if I can't, I know you're there.

And that's more than enough for me.

Love always,

Ridley Beck

~Fin~

🥲

Tag list:

@blue-aconite @tinytotontheoversizedpony @djs8891 @caitsymichelle13 @startrekfangirl2233

@mayhemmanaged @ereardon @dempy @shanimallina87 @teacupsandtopgun @daggerspare-standingby

@phantomxoxo @formulapierre @eli2447 @fulla02 @blckgrl-sunflower @mizzzpink @ohgodnotagainn

@bubblegumbeautyqueen @sarahsmi13s @desert-fern @lynnestra44 @memoriesat30 @penwieldingdreamer @mxlanciia

@bradleybeachbabe @bobby-r2d2-floyd @lavenderbradshaw @roosters-girl @lovinglyeternal @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars

@keyrani @craftytrashprincess @hisredheadedgoddess28 @abzidabzy @memeorydotcom @vicsnook @taestrwbrry

@its-the-pilot @dizzybee03 @cassiemitchell

Wickett 🥲

(Sadie, Liz and Jake will be around for blurbs and one-shots if that is something you all are interested in 🥰 )

----

Forever After All - The next series after DTDT

134 notes · View notes

emailblog · 2 years

Text

Birthday Blues (J.S.)

A/N: I’m back! My laptop has been broken for awhile, and while I haven’t bought a new one, a friend is letting me have her old one until I do. I have so many ideas to bring to you guys, and it’s great to be back :)

You are fuming.

You gave Jake the benefit of the doubt this morning when he mentioned nothing about your birthday because maybe he was too blinded by being tired, but when he left for class without saying anything, you realized he had forgotten. At first, you tried to understand. He had a lot on his plate with the death mission he could be sent on, but when he said he had to stay later at the Hard Deck because he and Rooster planned a pool game today, you were wondering how he forgot your birthday but not a pool game to show up Rooster.

“Hey, Jake? Where are you?” You ask into the phone, and you can hear the loud music playing in the background along with the laughs of Jake’s friends.

“I’m still at the Hard Deck, Baby. Is something wrong?” You know Jake. While he’s trying to still seem like the calm and cool guy his friends know, you can tell he’s concerned. You can see him leaning against the wall while watching Rooster take his turn in your mind.

“Just wondering because if you’re waiting to tell me happy birthday until the exact time, you’re thirty minutes late.” You look out the window and at the beach, hoping his face is covered in shock. It’s silent for a few minutes, but you swear you can hear whispering. Then, there’s laughing, but not from Jake. It’s Rooster. Dude! I can’t believe you forgot her birthday! Haha, I hope she beats your ass, man.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I got caught up in this whole mission thing and–”

“But you remembered your game with Rooster?” Again, it’s silent for a beat. He sighs into the phone, and he says a goodbye to the gang before the music begins to fade from the speaker.

“No, no, Jake. Go back inside and finish your game. I’ll just call my mom and dad so I can have a little celebration.” You threaten because you know that he knows your parents will give him hell for this slip up. They will never let it go.

“God, no. Look, I’ll come home, and we can do whatever you want. We can watch that god awful remake of Footloose you like even though the original is so much better.” Jake groans which gets you to laugh a little bit, and so does he.

“I’m still mad, Jake.” You mention when the laughter dies down.

“I know. Why don’t you come down to the Hard Deck and tell Penny all about my disrespectful attitude and get yourself a free drink?” The offer is tempting, but you know that if you go down to the bar, he’ll just try to sweeten you up to forget his mistake. Then again, the hundreds of dollars that he’ll have to spend at a packed bar on the weekend seems very tempting and a good punishment.

“Fine, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” You grumble, and he lets out a small cheer with a short I love you! Walking over to your closet, you wonder what you should wear. You know that you’ll want to go to the beach at some point when you’re there so you decide to go for the “shorts and bikini top for shirt” look, but to rub it in Jake’s face more, you wear one of Rooster’s hawaiian shirts he lent you after someone spilt their drink on you at the Hard Deck.

Once you arrived, it was oddly quiet for the bar even if it was a slow day. There’s no music or chatter, so you slowly walk up to the doors with your guard up. Just as you pass you walk through the door, the entire bar jumps out and yells Surprise!

“Jesus wept!” You cry out, hand over your heart. Jake walks over to your hunched over form with a beer in his hand.

“Happy birthday, Baby.” His smile is infectious, and you wonder how lucky you are to have tied down Jake Seresin. Though, his original “charm” still lingers as his eyes stay glued to your chest until you start walking over to his group, the bar returning to its original environment.

“Now, that is a look, Sweetheart.” Rooster comments when he sees his shirt slowly falling off your shoulders from the surprise. You smile at him as he comes over to you for a hug. His strong arms wrap around you tightly, and he whispers a wish of happy birthday in your ear.

“Wait, that’s Rooster’s shirt?” Jake questions, holding the collar of the fabric in his hands. You give a smug smile to the rest of the group as Jake continues to stand behind you. When you turn around, you slide the fabric the rest of the way off of your body and hold it in your hand.

“Let me take it off if it bothers you so much.” Your voice is smooth as you hear the rest of the group cheer behind you. Slowly, you turn back around to place the shirt on Rooster’s shoulder. Now standing in only shorts and a bikini top, you lean back on the pool table staring directly at Jake whose jaw is now tense.

“Don’t you think you tortured me enough?” He whines. Jake Seresin whines. You laugh and walk back up to him and hug his waist. He places a kiss on your head as Fanboy fake gags.

“I can’t believe Jake’s gone soft.” Coyote teases, and Jake shakes his head.

“I’d do anything for this woman, but she definitely doesn’t make me soft.” You all groan at the innuendo, and you are tempted to walk away into the ocean.

“I’m leaving. Bye, Roos.” You wave to Bradley before running out of the bar with a call of Thank you, Penny! You hear Jake’s footsteps pick up behind you, so you let out a squeal when you reach the sand, taking off as fast as you could. Just when you think you’ve gotten away from him, he grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder.

“Jake Seresin, you put me down right now!” You punch at his back with a laugh, but he just squats down a bit as if he’s going to drop you.

“You really wanted me to feel bad about forgetting your birthday, huh?” He smiles as he stares at the pier. You take in the silence and close your eyes. Even though he forgot your birthday, you take in his body on yours, his smell, the coolness of the night, and you relish in it. You open up your eyes and see the wooden floor of the pier, and Jakes puts you down.

“I asked you out here.” He states, leaning over the railing. You remember that night. You called him a dick for throwing Pete off the railing that first night and left to check on him. Once you saw he was okay, you took a walk to the pier. Once he found you, he apologized to you about how he can act around his friends.

“That you did. I thought you were such an asshole.” You mirror him and lean over the railing. He scoots over and lays his head on your shoulder.

“And now?” He asks, but you stay silent with a grin on your face. Jake looks at you with fake hurt. He puts his hands in his pockets before looking down at the ground.

“I am really sorry I forgot about your birthday.” He sounds like he could cry. Your heart feels for him, and you start to feel really bad for the things you’ve done tonight.

“Just because I forgot doesn’t mean I didn’t get you a present, though.” He walks back up to the pier and takes a small box out of his pocket. Because the box has a lid that slides on, you think it’s earrings. Giddy, you open the box and see a diamond ring inside. Your breath hitches.

“I bought that the morning after we met, and I thought about giving it to you when I saw you again. That seemed too forward, though.” He lets out an awkward laugh. You take the ring out with shaky hands and place it gently on your finger.

“...If I say no, do I get to keep the ring?” You look up at his nervous face becoming serious with the tilt of his head.

“Baby..” He warns and you just close the box and hand it back to him.

“I would’ve said yes if you gave it to me that day.” You mention as he stares at the ring on your finger. He holds the hand and kisses it.

“I know. You’re obsessed with me.” You shove him away. He just laughs and pulls you in for a hug. It’s different now, but a good difference. He sways you two slightly and hums a random tune you’ve never heard. A part of you wants to run into the Hard Deck and yell that you’re engaged, but another part wants to keep this moment to the both of you.

“This means you can’t be going on deathly missions every year. When you left to save Pete and Bradley last year, I was so worried.” You squeeze him tighter, pushing your face into his chest.

“This means you have to stop doing your weird flirting with Rooster.” You can feel his chin on your head, his hands rubbing up and down your back.

“But then how will I rile you up?” He pinches your hip, and you yell out, smacking his chest.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.”

Thank you for reading! Requests are open :)

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #hangman x reader #top gun maverick

823 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 1 year

Text

Start from Scratch

It had been years since they'd been back to the place they'd once called home, the place they once thought they'd raise their children, but it was time.

Aaron and Emily and their family go back to DC years after being forced to leave by Peter Lewis and his obsession.

My 250th Hotchniss Fic.

-x-

Hi friends,

It seems absolutely bonkers that this is my 250th fic, and on some level it probably is, but here we are!!

I've never written anything about the Scratch storyline, largely because I've only ever watched those episodes once, and it freaked me out so much I've never watched them again!! So, I thought I'd write this, an idea that's been floating around my brain for a long time, to mark the occasion.

I just wanted to say thank you for always encouraging me, for being my safe space when I have bad days. Writing for this fandom has, and will continue to, get me through some hard times in my life. Writing is my way of escape, and the fact it provides escape to other people is a bonus that I cannot even describe.

So, if you've ever read something I've written, if you'd left kudos, or likes, reblogs or comments, then this for you. Thank you.

Let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 9.3k (i got carried away)

Warnings: Canon typical violence

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

May 2021

“Mom, I’m bored.”

She smiles as she looks up from her desk, her eyebrow raised as her eyes meet her son’s, the 9-year-olds the same dark shade as hers.

“Did you finish all your homework?” She asks, and he avoids her eye contact, looking down at the ground, “Oscar Hotchner…”

“I did most of it,” he says, an almost desperate tone to his voice that she has to clear her throat to stop from laughing at, “But Wren and Rosie are playing and Jack said we could play on his game.”

She folds her hands on her desk in front of her and smiles at him. Before she’d been a parent she always assumed she wouldn’t be a pushover when it came to her children, but all it would take is a slightly sad look in their eyes, or a slight tilt of their sweet heads, and she was putty in their hands. Aaron always made fun of her for it, his smile pressed into her hairline when they curled up in bed at night, a playful tone to his voice as he joked about how she had stared down serial killers in a past life but was unable to say no to their children.

“You know what, sweet boy,” she says, standing up and round her desk, walking over to him and wrapping her arm around him, “Mommy is bored with marking papers, so why don’t we go find everyone else.” The way his face lights up with a smile, the one he shared with Aaron, warms her from the inside out. “Dad will be home soon anyway.”

They walk towards the living room and she laughs at the sight of the twins sitting on the couch, absolutely surrounded by every single one of their stuffed animals, and she wonders how many times they must have walked up and down the stairs to bring them down from their rooms.

“What is going on in here?” She asks, smiling when both Wren and Rose look at her. They were identical in looks, to the point where only those who were close to them could tell them apart, but their personalities couldn’t be more different. Wren was quiet, more reserved in nature especially around people she didn’t know, so much like Aaron it made Emily feel fiercely protective of her. Rose was exactly like she was. Bold and adventurous and stubborn to a degree that had Emily dreading her teenage years even though they were only a few months shy of the twins 6th birthday.

“We’re playing hospital,” Rose says, her expression serious as she points at the lined up stuffed animals, “These are all our patients.”

“Wow,” Emily replies, “Busy day at the hospital.”

Jack walks in, the spare controllers for the Nintendo Switch in his hands, “Who wants to play MarioKart?”

“Me!” Wren exclaims, abandoning what she had been doing and running over to her brother who was just about her favourite person in the world. The relationship between Jack and his siblings was something that never failed to make Emily feel emotional. She remembered how worried she’d been when she was pregnant with Oscar, so concerned how Jack would react that it had made her feel sick, but he’d never been anything other than excited at being a big brother.

She knew they’d all miss him when he moved away to college in a couple of years.

She’s just about to say that she’ll play too, her arm still around Oscar’s shoulders, when the front door opens, Aaron’s smile wide as he walks into the house.

“Daddy’s home!” Rose shouts, running over to the front door, running at his legs at full speed and wrapping her arms around him.

“Hi Rosie Posie,” he replies, leaning down to hug her as he places his briefcase by the door. He smirks as he sees how Emily rolls her eyes at the nickname she’d hated since he’d first said it.

“We were about to play MarioKart,” Emily says, smiling when he walks over to press a kiss to her cheek, “If you want to join us I can always beat you again.”

“You only win because you cheat, Mom,” Jack says, and she turns to him, narrowing her eyes at her oldest.

“I do not cheat,” she replies before she turns back to her husband, “How about it, honey?”

He nods, clearing his throat, “Yeah,” he looks at his children and smiles, “Why don’t you go set up the game, Mom and I will be right behind you.”

They all nod and head towards the den, chatting over each other, their home never quiet but full of love and a type of peace that, even just a few years ago, Emily wouldn’t have thought was possible. She smiles as she turns to face Aaron, shaking her head at their children as they all rush out of the room to play the video game, Jack leading the charge, but it fades when she sees the look on her husband's face, the sadness in his eyes.

“Honey,” she says, stepping towards him, her hand on his arm in an immediate attempt to comfort him, “What’s wrong?”

He sighs as he puts his hand over hers, linking their fingers together as he squeezes, “I heard from Dave,” he says, pressing his lips together in a tight line, “Krystall died this morning.”

“Poor Dave,” She gasps, her heart clenching in her chest, aching for their friend who had done so much for them, who had saved them. Dave had been the one to protect them when everything started to fall apart, his friendship and his protectiveness over them and their children one of the reasons they were all still together now. She blows out a steady breath and locks eyes with her husband. “Do you think…” she drifts off, the mere thought of going back, of returning to the place where their family had been tormented by a now dead psychopath, enough to make her chest seize.

“I’ve already booked the time off work,” he replies, as if he has read her mind. She nods and leans in to hug him, sighing as he hugs her back, “He’d do it for us.”

“You’re right,” she says, closing her eyes as she hears the kids laugh from the next room, reminding herself that Peter Lewis hadn’t won, that she still had everything she’d left her life, the people she’d once considered her found family, behind to protect, “We should go.”

He can feel the tension in her shoulders, the knots that almost immediately begin to form there, and he rubs his hand up and down her back. The choice not to return to their old life once it was safe to do so had been a hard one, but ultimately the right decision. Their life now was the one their children deserved, the one they deserved, and he knew that the thought of going back to where they had almost lost everything, even to support one of their oldest friends, was a difficult one.

“It will be ok, sweetheart,” he assures her, stamping a kiss against her lips, “We’ll do it together, just like everything else.”

She smiles and nods, kissing him once more before she pulls away, smiling at the sound of the kids yelling for them, Rose’s voice drowning out the rest of them.

“Yeah,” she says, squeezing his hand as they walk towards the den, “Together.”

___

April 2015

It feels like an echo of a previous life. The panic, how it twists deep in her gut as she parks her car outside the hospital, greeting her like an old friend.

The last time she’d done this he’d simply been her boss, although she knew in hindsight that she’d been in love with him even then. He hadn’t been hers, her confusing feelings for him stuffed deep down under all the other secrets she carried at the time, unable to surface under the weight of her time with Ian Doyle.

The worry is sharper this time, only made worse by how Dave had sounded on the phone. Their usually cool and unaffected friend sounded strained, his concern for Aaron clear, unable to hide it from her despite his best efforts.

She bursts into the hospital entrance, her car keys tightly grasped in her first as she approaches the nurse's station.

“Excuse me,” she says, her voice strained even to her own ears. A nurse looks her up and down, “I-”

“Ma’am, are you okay? Is something wrong with your baby?”

Emily’s hand drifts to her stomach, more pronounced at this stage in her pregnancy than it had been during her last one with Oscar, because this time she has two babies in her belly. Twins they’d recently found out were both girls, constantly moving as if they were already fighting with each other.

“No, I’m fine,” she says, sounding harsher than she means to be, “My husband was brought in, Aaron Hotchner. Our friend called me and-”

“Emily.”

She turns to see Dave standing a few feet away and she abandons the nurse's station, walking over to him as quickly as she can, “Dave, what the hell happened?”

He pulls her into a hug, his embrace tight, almost desperate, and it does nothing to calm her fraying nerves.

“He got into his head,” he says, his hands still on her shoulders as he pulls back.

She frowns, her stomach churning for a different reason than she was used to, “Peter Lewis?” She asks, swallowing thickly when Dave nods, “What do you mean he got into his head?”

Dave sighs and guides her over to a nearby chair and she sits, her hand on her stomach again as she tries to calm herself down, well aware her blood pressure was already something her doctor was concerned about.

“He drugged him. Made him hallucinate all kinds of things, including some of the team dying,” he says, and she blows out a breath, “Lewis tried to then make him kill us when we came in to rescue him, but he saw through it. I think there's more but he won’t talk about it.”

She nods, placing her hand on her bump, the movement of her daughters keeping her somewhat grounded, “And Lewis?”

“He gave himself up immediately,” Dave says, clenching his jaw, anger aimed at the man who had tried to rob his friend of everything that made him who he was, “He got what he wanted.”

Emily nods, “He got inside Aaron’s head,” she wraps her fingers around her wedding rings, twisting them back and forth, “Can I see him?”

Dave nods and stands up offering her a hand to help her up too but she declines, forcing herself up herself. “He’s pretty out of it,” Dave says, walking her towards Aaron’s room, “But he kept asking about you and the boys, he wanted to make sure you were safe.”

She chuckles humourlessly and shakes her head, “That sounds about right,” she smiles tightly at him, “He’s the one who got drugged and tortured by a psychopath but he was worried about us whilst we were sat at home.”

He smiles and nods at her, “He’s in there,” he says, pointing towards the room next to them. Emily turns to go in, desperate to see her husband, but Dave stops her, his hand on her arm, “Bella, non l'ho mai visto così.”

She feels her heart seize in her chest, her lungs so stuffed full of worry she can’t draw in a breath, so all she does is nod in response, smiling tightly at her friend once more before she walks into Aaron’s room. She immediately sees what Dave means, how delicate Aaron looks, frail in a way she’d never associated with him. He’d always been huge. Tall and wide-shouldered in a way that made her feel small, even though in reality she wasn’t too much shorter than him. In recent years he’d put on a little weight, something that she loved, but hadn’t lost any of his strength. He was her safe space, her haven, and she knew he was the same for their children too.

But right now he looked small, folding in on himself as he jumps as the door opens. She immediately feels guilty, chastising herself internally for spooking him when he’d already been through so much, but she smiles at him in a way she hopes is encouraging.

“Honey, it’s just me,” she says, stepping towards him, her hands in front of her, one of them on her bump, so he can see them, “It’s Emily.”

“Sweetheart?” He asks, sounding slightly panicked as he sits up, “Where are Jack and Oscar, are they-”

“Baby,” she says, sitting on the edge of his bed as she cuts him off, squeezing one of his hands between both of hers, her touch immediately stopping him in his tracks, “The boys are fine. Jess is with them. By now they are probably both fast asleep in their beds.”

He nods, a vacant look in his eyes that was tearing her apart, “And you’re okay?”

She smiles softly at him, “I’m okay,” she says, placing his hand on her belly, watching a flicker of him pass over his face as one of the babies kicks against his hand, “All three of your girls are,” she adds, and he nods again, remaining silent as they sit there, the silence cloying, overwhelming in a way that makes her choke, “Aaron-”

“Don’t ask me what he made me see,” he says, his voice devoid of emotion, his eyes seeing right through her, as if he was seeing whatever it was all over again, “I can’t…”

She isn’t sure she’s ever hated someone as much as she hates Peter Lewis. She just wants a few minutes alone with him, to see how powerful he was without his drugs and his tools, to give him a taste of his own medicine. She breathes out slowly, well aware that Aaron didn’t need her to be angry now. There would be plenty of time for that later. Right now, he needed her love, a reminder of their lives together.

“Okay,” she says, shifting closer to him and pulling him into an embrace. He rests his head against her chest and she feels him breathe in deeply, filling his lungs with the smell of home as if it would erase everything he’d been through, “Okay. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he murmurs, his palms wide and strong on her back, holding her closer, her bump pressed between them as he desperately holds her in place.

“They got him,” she says, kissing the top of his head, “He won’t hurt us again.”

For a reason she can’t explain, she’s not even sure she believes herself.

___

She’s nervous in a way she can’t explain when they arrive.

They’d booked a suite at a downtown hotel despite Dave’s insistence that they could stay with him. Neither of them wanted to place that burden on him, to have their family of 6 taking up space in his home where she knew his grief should be.

She’d idly wondered if he’d mentioned to the others that they were coming, but it’s a question that is answered when they show up at the funeral and everyone looks shocked to see them. Whispers passed back and forth between JJ, Penelope, Tara and Spencer as well as people that Emily doesn’t recognise.

At first, their contact only being limited to Dave had been practical, especially when they were still in witness protection. But once everything was safe, once they could have returned, it was something that had continued. The people they had once spent every day with, people who had been in their wedding and held their children when they were newborns, no longer a part of their lives. It made Emily feel guilty, especially when she sees the shock on their faces, the second time in her life she’d been a ghost to them, but she reminds herself that it goes both ways, that there had been almost no attempts at contact from their side either.

They don’t speak to anyone else until the wake, all of their focus during the funeral is to pay their respects to Krystall and making sure the kids are entertained and they don’t cause a scene if they get bored. Her, Aaron and Jack had taken one of the smaller children each, Wren all but glued to her mother’s side as she looked around a room full of people she didn’t know. The wake is held at Dave’s house, echoes of his wife in every corner, and all Emily needs to do is close her eyes and she’s taken back to her and Aaron’s wedding. Having it here had felt right. She’d never wanted a big wedding and as soon as Aaron proposed she knew she wanted it here. In the place where they’d all come back together in the fallout of Ian and how he’d torn through their lives.

“Emily.”

She looks up, her breath catching in her chest as she sees JJ and Penelope walk over to her. There’s a moment of awkward silence as all three of them just look at each other, and then Penelope pulls her into a hug, every bit as fierce and loving as she had remembered.

“Hi Pen,” she says, holding her back just as tightly. She smiles as she pulls away and then hugs JJ too before she puts some space between them, “It’s…been a long time.”

“We weren’t expecting to see you,” JJ says, crossing her arms over her chest, “I didn’t know you guys were still in touch with Dave.”

She nods, her lips pressed together in a firm line, “It’s not very often,” she says, “But he called Aaron to tell him about Krystall, and it wouldn’t have felt right to not come.” She feels a pulling at the material of her dress and she looks down to see Wren standing close to her, a nervous look in her eyes as she looks back and forth between her mother and the women she was speaking to. Emily runs her fingers through the girl's hair and crouches down to her level, “You probably don’t remember Mommy and Daddy’s friends, huh?” She says, and she smiles as Wren shakes her head, stepping closer to her as she does so, seeking out her mother’s comfort, “That’s okay, you were very small the last time we were here.”

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” JJ asks, and it makes something in Emily’s chest pang, because if they’d stayed, if they’d never had to leave, she knows the woman she would have once called her best friend would have been one of the people who could tell the twins apart. She looks at Wren who stays silent, her hand tight around the black material of Emily’s dress.

“This is Wren,” she says, smiling at her friend as she picks her daughter up, settling her on her hip as she straightens up. Wren rests her head against her shoulder and tangles one of her hands in Emily’s hair, “Wren, these are Mommy’s friends. Jennifer-”

“Like my middle name,” Wren says, smiling as she finally finds her voice, and Emily and JJ exchange a sad smile.

“Yeah, sweet girl, like your middle name,” she replies, before tilting her towards Penelope, her eyes wide and shining, “And this is Penelope, just like Rosie’s middle name.”

Penelope clears her throat, pushing down the emotions that had climbed up it, and smiles at the little girl, “You’re very pretty, Wren Jennifer.”

Wren smiles at the compliment, “I look like Mommy!”

“Yeah,” Penelope replies, looking back at Emily, “You really do.”

Emily spots Jack and she puts Wren down, “Go with Jack, ok sweetie? Mommy will come find you in a bit.”

Wren nods and runs away, calling out Jack’s name in a way that is a little loud for a wake, but no one around seems to care. Strangers all smiling as the little girl is picked up by her brother and carried away. Emily turns back to look at JJ and Penelope and feels the awkwardness return, a mix of regret for the last few years mixing with defiance in her chest. She loved her life, and she’d done what she had to do.

“Sorry,” she says, her fingers immediately wrapping around her wedding rings, twisting them back and forth, “She’s nervous around strang…people she doesn’t know,” she says, correcting herself, the thought that someone she’d named her daughter after being a stranger to her too much to bear.

“So, where do you guys live?” JJ asks, trying to make the conversation feel a little more normal.

“New Haven,” she replies, smiling as she thinks of home, “We both teach at Yale. We both do classes in criminology and I do a few in linguistics.”

“You live in Connecticut?” Penelope asks, furrowing her brow, “You’ve been on the same coast all this time?”

“Well, not all this time,” Emily replies, “We were in witness protection in Ohio but moved up there afterwards.”

It had been something they’d gone back and forth on when they were deciding where to settle. Their home in Ohio had only ever felt temporary, the place they’d had to hide out from a man who had become so obsessed with Aaron he was stalking their son. Once they’d established they weren’t going to come back to DC they’d considered lots of places, but had settled on Connecticut, their life there different to how it had been before, and all the more precious for it.

“You never called,” Penelope says, and Emily presses her lips together before she blows out a breath.

“Neither did you,” she replies, no accusation in her voice, her smile sad, “I kind of always assumed you’d look us up.”

Penelope smiles wryly, “Dave had me under strict instructions to leave you to it. He said he’d never seen either of you so happy,” she says, looking at JJ before she looks back at Emily, “Who were we to mess with that after everything you’ve both been through.”

Emily nods, “How about we all agree to be better at staying in touch going forward?” She says, hoping it wasn’t a false promise, “You could come and visit, we have plenty of room.”

Penelope smiles, her expression widely inappropriate for where they were, “Oh my god you live in some kind of mansion don’t you?”

She presses her lips together to stop herself from smiling as she thinks of their home, how Aaron’s eyes had almost bugged out of his head when they first saw it. It hadn’t cost much more than their home in DC, but it was almost twice the size. Large and airy but comforting, everything she’d always hoped for.

“Something like that.”

___

May 2016

She’s chewed her nails almost to the quick. She knows he’ll pick up on it, that he’ll comment on the damage that she’s done, the spots of blood that always seemed fresh along her nail line, but she thinks she should get a pass.

Her husband had been arrested for something he hadn’t done after all.

It had only been a handful of days, three at most, but they’d blurred into one. Concern and fear that something would happen to him whilst he was in there, all of her previous jokes that all you had to do was look at him and you knew he was a cop haunting her as she failed to sleep. The team wouldn’t let her get involved, and neither would her direct superior on the Counterterrorism team, the job she’d returned to have she had the twins. Everyone sent her home, told her to be with her children, as if that would take her mind off of things.

Derek had been the one to call her to say they’d done it, that they’d proven Aaron’s innocence, and she doesn’t think she’d ever gotten out of the house faster. Jessica had been staying over with her since Aaron had been arrested, helping her with the kids and being emotional support. It was strange to Emily to think sometimes that one of her closest friends was the sister of her husband’s dead ex-wife, but life had always had a way of surprising her. Jessica offered to stay with the children whilst Emily went to the prison to meet Aaron, her desperation to see him clear.

She paces the sidewalk outside of the prison, what remains of her thumbnail in her teeth as seconds feel like hours as they pass by. She checks the time on her phone, her wallpaper, a photo of their family, of her and Aaron holding one of the girls each, Wren in her arms and Rose in Aaron’s, with Jack and Oscar on either side of them, making her ache. When the front door opens, the metal clang of it ringing out around her, she turns so quickly she pulls her neck, but she barely feels it. A shuddering sigh escapes her in relief as her eyes meet his. He was wearing the suit he’d worn when he last left home, rumbled and dirty now, and his beard had grown out a little. It was the first time ever that the sight of it made her feel nauseous, instead of the usual lust that would take over her. Dave is with him but hangs back, a few paces behind her husband so he can give them some time together.

They move at the same time, closing the gap between them as they meet in an embrace that winds them both, knocking the air out of each other's lungs as they hug tightly. His arms band around her back, holding her with such ferocity her feet leave the ground, her toes just about scraping the cement. She pulls back just enough to kiss him, her lips fierce against his as he kisses her back, his fists tight in her shirt. She looks at him, her hand on his cheek as she checks for injuries.

“Are you okay?” She asks, the question sounding ridiculous as she asks it, her voice croaking in a way she hates.

“I’m as okay as I can be,” he replies, pressing his forehead against hers, “How about you, and the kids?”

“Same,” she replies, “They are excited to see you.”

He nods, the thought of seeing his wife and kids, of holding them all like she was currently holding her, had been the only thing that had got him through the last few days. “I’m excited to see them too, as soon as this case-”

“No,” she says, squeezing him harder as he tries to turn away, to look at Dave over his shoulder, “Let’s just go home,” she all but begs, the thought of him going to work, of leaving her sight, too much to bear, “Please, the team can handle it without you.”

It’s a turning point in their relationship. She’d never asked him to step away from work before. She understood him, she was the same. They both valued their work and its importance, but this was different. This case, anything to do with Peter Lewis, was always trying to pull them apart, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

And from the look on his face, she doesn’t think he can either.

He crumbles, any resolve he may have had to not go straight home with her already weak as it was. He turns to look at Dave and he doesn’t even have to say anything, a sad yet knowing smile on the other man's face.

“My advice, as a man who has been divorced three times?” He says, stepping towards them and pressing his hand on Aaron’s shoulder. He smiles at Emily as he carries on, “Listen to your wife. We’ve got it, Aaron. Go home and hug your children.”

Aaron nods, not needing any further encouragement, and he looks down at his wife, “Let’s go home.”

Emily almost sags with relief against him, hugging him one more time before she pulls away, linking her hand through his, not wanting to lose the connection. She looks at Dave, her relief palpable as she speaks.

“Grazie.”

“Sempre,” he replies, winking at her before he walks away back to his car, ready to join the team to finish what they’d started.

Emily looks back at Aaron and squeezes his hand, “Come on, I’ll drive.”

He follows her gladly to their car, and it’s only when she lets go of his hand to dig the car keys out of her pocket that he sees her nails, now they’ve been torn to pieces. He grabs her hand again and looks closer, his eyebrows furrowing at the sight of them.

“Em…”

She smiles sadly at him and shrugs, “Give a girl a break, my husband was in prison for something he didn’t do and I didn’t know if something was going to happen to him.”

He hugs her again, the weight of her against him soothing his weary soul as she leans into him, “I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

“It’s not your fault,” she says, cupping his cheek, the rasp of his beard against her skin a good reminder that he was here, that she had him back, “It’s all Peter Lewis,” she says, clenching her teeth, “And he’ll eventually get what's coming to him,” she leans forward and stamps a kiss against his lips, pressing her forehead into his, “Now, lets get you home and showered. You stink.”

He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and she kisses him once more before she pulls back. Their car journey home is silent, his hand on her thigh as she drives, and she can’t shake the sinking feeling that this isn’t over yet.

___

Emily yawns as she runs her fingers through Oscar’s hair, the boy fast asleep with his head in her lap. They were back at their hotel, and even though he’d insisted he wasn’t tired, that he wanted to sit and watch TV with her whilst Aaron gave the twins a bath and got them ready for bed, he’d fallen asleep almost immediately. She’d considered getting him into the room he was sharing with Jack whilst they were here, but she so rarely got time with her youngest son like this anymore so she was relishing in it.

She looks up as she hears a door open and smiles softly at Jack as he walks into the room. He was still wearing his suit from the funeral but he’d taken off his tie. He was taller than her now, and looked so incredibly grown up it made her ache. It was strange to think he’d been younger than Oscar when she’d first started dating Aaron. Her boyfriend's son who had also become hers, her love for him no different than for the three she’d carried herself.

“Are you okay, sweetie?” She asks, still running her fingers through Oscar’s hair as Jack joins them on the couch, his sigh heavy as he sits down.

He hums and looks around, “Where’s Dad?”

“Right now I’d say he’s trying to stop the twins from flooding the bathroom,” she replies, watching him carefully, giving him a moment before she prompts him, “It must have been strange for you to be back here.”

Krystall had been buried in the same cemetery as Haley, so they’d made sure to take some flowers to rest there, placing them alongside the ones she knew Jessica made sure were always fresh. She’d spotted Jack standing there after the service, his eyes fixed on his mother’s headstone and his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“Not any stranger than it is for you guys I guess,” he says, smiling tightly at her, “Do you miss living here?”

She sighs as she thinks about it. The answer, as with most things in her life, wasn’t simple. She missed how it used to be, how this place used to make her feel safe until that sense of peace was destroyed for her. She’d worked hard to claw it back after Ian, with no small amount of help from Jack and Aaron, the two of them slowly helping her find her place here again. She knew that without them she wouldn’t have made it, that she would left much earlier than she ended up doing, but she would have been alone, not with the family that she had built around her.

“Yes and no,” she replies eventually, always determined never to lie to him, “I miss the team, how things used to be with them, but I love our home and where we live,” she says, smiling when he does, “Do you miss living here?”

He shrugs, “Yes and no,” he replies, his smile briefly wide as she rolls her eyes at his repetition of her answer. His smile fades and he looks down at his hands, sighing as he avoids her eye contact, “I’m sorry, Mom.”

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together as she looks at him, “What for honey?”

“I know we had to leave because of me,” he says, still looking at his hands, “You wouldn’t have lost contact with everyone if you didn’t have to keep me safe from that Scratch guy.”

She swears she can hear her heart crack, the sound reverberating around her head, and not for the first time, and certainly not the last, she internally curses a man who was long since dead. She gently shifts from underneath Oscar, placing a pillow under his head, and she moves closer to Jack, she cups his chin and makes him look at her.

“Jack, nothing about what happened is your fault,” she says, smiling encouragingly at him as she wipes a tear she knows he’ll deny existed later from his cheek, “You have nothing to apologise for. The only person to blame is long gone, and he can’t hurt any of us anymore. Your Dad and I…we did what we had to do. And I’d do it all again to know you grew up safe and away from it all, okay?”

He sniffs and nods, “Okay.”

“Good,” she says, pulling him into a hug that he gladly returns, his arms fierce and tight around her. For a moment she misses when he was small, when he could fit in her lap and her embrace would envelop him, not the other way around.

“Love you, Mom.”

She smiles and kisses the side of his head, “Love you too, honey.”

___

November 2016

Emily paces back and forth in their bedroom with a cranky and sick Rose in her arms. The 15-month-old was the latest to come down with the cold that Jack had brought home from school, and she refused to be put down, crying anytime she wasn’t in the comfort of one of her parents embrace. Emily doesn’t mind, happy to stay up the whole night if her little girl needed her, well aware that the baby’s clinginess was something the was a comfort to them both right now, the weight of her daughter against her chest one of the only things keeping her grounded.

“Mama,” Rose grumbles, pressing her face into her mother’s neck, as if she’d find the relief to her sore head and blocked nose there. Emily shushes her as she kisses the side of her daughter’s head.

“Mama’s got you Rosie girl, you’re okay,” she says, still walking back and forth, hoping she could finally get the baby off to sleep, “You’re okay.” She looks up as the door opens, her eyes meeting her husband’s as he steps into the room looking every bit as weary as she feels. He walks over and kisses her cheek before he does the same with Rose, his hand on the back of the little girl's head. “Is everything…”

He smiles tightly at her as she drifts off, the words dying in her throat, the now familiar fear that had been haunting them for months back in full force. Peter Lewis was stalking Jack. Following him everywhere, his own past imprinted on the 11-year-old through his obsession with Aaron.

“I’ve double-checked all the locks and the alarm, and we have some local cops stationed outside until we know what we’re doing.”

She chuckles humourlessly and looks down, relieved that Rose was now sleeping, “Yeah,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed, keeping her daughter secure in her arms, “Because he’s never managed to sneak past cops before.”

Aaron sighs, overwhelmed by guilt as he pushes his fingers through his hair, “Em…”

“I know,” she says, clearing her throat as she shakes her head at herself, “I know, I’m sorry,” she says, unhooking one of her arms from around the baby sleeping against her and offering it out to him. He joins her on the bed, sitting so close their thighs are pressed together, and she wraps her hand around his, “I’m just scared, Aaron,” she says, her lower lip trembling with the force of everything she was feeling, “He’s never going to stop.”

He wraps his arm around her, tugging her and Rose into his embrace, his arms banding around them. He wished it was always this simple, that he could protect them all by just holding them, his embrace as safe a place as Emily had always said it was. He knows he can’t do that though, that he’d failed again and again to protect his family from a man who seemed intent on destroying them. He heaves in a deep breath as he prepares to say what's been on his mind all day, something he knows won’t go down well.

“I think you and the kids should go away for a while,” he says, and he feels her tense in his arms, her body immediately tight as she pulls back to look at him, her irritation at his suggestion immediately clear, “It’s the only way I can keep you safe.”

“No.”

He sighs at her tone, the complete lack of room for argument, and he feels his heart sink in his chest, “Em-”

“No,” she repeats, harsher this time, anger for the situation and everything they’d been put through since Peter Lewis first set his sights on Aaron finally breaking free, “We’re not going anywhere without you. I refuse. I’m not leaving you here as bait for a man that wants you dead,” a tear falls past her lashline and he wipes it away, his calloused thumb soft against her cheek, “I’m not doing it, Aaron.”

“He made me watch you die,” he says, his tone just as harsh as hers. He swallows thickly, his jaw tense as she frowns at him, her eyebrows knitting together. He’d never told her everything that Peter Lewis had done to him when he’d captured him, never quite able to bring himself to explain all the terrible things he’d seen, “He…you and the kids were dead. He tried to convince me it was real and it felt it.”

Her heart aches, the thought of it enough to stop her from breathing, and she holds Rose even tighter, taking a moment to kiss her cheek, “Honey, thats all the more reason for me not to leave you here. If he did that last time, god knows what he’d do this time and I…”

She doesn’t know how to explain it to him, how to put into words how this whole situation had shaken her faith in the system she’d always been a part of. The system she’d died for. How watching him get arrested and put in prison for something he hadn’t done, how he’d been treated by people he’d protected again and again, had made her start to question what the hell they’d both risked their lives for over the years.

She knew he was right on some level, that they couldn’t carry on as they had been, especially now the target had switched to their children, but she wasn’t going anywhere without him. She knew if she did, if Aaron was left alone, that she’d likely never see him again. That the man who had been taunting them for well over a year would likely get his wish and kill him. She didn’t want to raise their kids alone, didn’t want to have to remind her 4-year-old son and baby daughters how much their dad loved them, fill their lives with memories of a man they didn’t remember because he wasn’t there to do it himself. She didn’t want to take Jack away from his father for the second time in his life, to force him to once again live away from him.

She didn’t want to live without the love of her life.

“Either we all go, or none of us do,” she says, breaking the tense silence they had fallen into. She watches as he frowns, his eyebrows knitting together as her words wash over him. She places her hand on his cheek, “I am so done with what that rat faced fucker is doing to us, what he is doing to our children’s lives. Honey, they deserve to have us both, safe and with them.”

He nods, leaning forward to press his forehead into hers, his eyes screwed shut as he heaves in a deep breath, “It will mean walking away from everything. Our friends. Our careers. Our home.”

She nods, pressing her lips together to stop the shake of them, “I know, but we’ll be together. The kids will be safe,” she pulls back to look at him, her chin trembling as she tries to stop herself from crying, “And my home is wherever you are.”

He smiles softly at her, reaching out to tuck some of her hair behind her ear, “My home is wherever you are too.”

“This job has taken so much from both of us,” she says, shrugging slightly, looking down at the baby in her arms, smiling at the innocence her daughter had. The way her cheek was squished against her chest, her face relaxed as she slept, wholly unaware of the danger around them. She looks back at Aaron, “I won’t let it take you.”

He nods, leaning forward to kiss her forehead, lingering longer than normal, breathing her in before he pulls back.

“Okay.”

She feels like she’s been hit by a wave of relief, sure it would have knocked her over if she’d been standing, “Okay?”

He nods again and hugs her, “We’ll all go,” he says, the feeling of her sagging into his side the only evidence he needed that he’d made the right call.

“I love you,” she says, turning her head to kiss his throat, her lips soft against his skin.

“I love you too.”

For the first time in a long time, it felt like that would be enough to get them through.

___

“Ok, boys,” Aaron says as they walk through the front door, “Straight to bed.”

Jack and Oscar's exhaustion from the long car journey home is clear when neither of them argues with him, both nodding as they exchange goodnights with their parents before they head upstairs. He adjusts his hold on Wren, the 5-year-old fast asleep in his arms and turns to look at Emily, who had Rose in hers, her face pressed into her mother’s neck.

“We’ll take them up and then meet in our room?” He says and Emily nods, leaning in to press a kiss to Wren’s head.

“Night sweet girl,” she whispers, not wanting to wake either of the sleeping girls up, “Mommy loves you.”

They walk up the stairs and head into each of the girl's rooms, careful not to make too much noise as they go. Emily pulls back the covers on Rose’s bed and lays her down, grateful that she’d insisted the girls travel back home in their pjyamas, well aware that this would be what they’d end up doing. She tucks Rose in and makes sure her favourite stuffed animal is in reach and she leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. Rose stirs slightly, pulling the covers in tighter around herself.

“Love you, Mama,” she murmurs, not even fully awake, but aware of her mother’s presence.

“Love you too, Ro-Ro,” she says, using the nickname that Rose only let her use, “Go back to sleep, sweetie.”

She smiles as she hears her daughter’s breathing even out, and she kisses her forehead again before she stands up and heads to the master bedroom down the hall. She sighs as she sits on the edge of the bed and takes off her shoes, groaning in delight as she slips the heels off and lets them drop to the floor.

“It’s always concerning when you make that noise at anything other than me.”

She chuckles as she looks up at her husband, “Oh honey, you know you’re the only reason I ever mean it,” she says, winking at him. She raises her arm to offer him her hand, and he walks over, linking their fingers before he joins her on the bed. She rests her head on his shoulder and yawns, “I’m so tired.”

He chuckles as he kisses her forehead, “And you’re not the one who drove for almost 7 hours today.”

“I’m a passenger princess and you know it,” she says, wrapping both of her arms around his, hugging it to her chest, “And don’t act like you don’t love it.”

He can’t deny it so he simply kisses her forehead again and breathes her in, the smell of her shampoo as comforting as it always had been. He doesn’t miss the desperation in the way she’s hugging his arm to her chest, the way she’s pressing her face into his shoulder, as if at any second he’d be torn away from her. He know that going back had been hard on her, on all of them. That seeing their friends again, all of them making promises as they left that he hopes they all keep, had been draining. Emotionally taxing in an already charged situation.

“You ok, sweetheart?”

She hums, squeezing his arm a little tighter, “I just keep thinking about Dave,” she says, tilting her head to look up at him, “He loved her so much and now she’s gone. What do you do with all that love when you lose someone? Where does it go?” She asks, sighing sadly as their eyes meet, “I’m not expecting you to answer that by the way I just…I just keep thinking about how I’d feel if I lost you, and it’s unbearable.”

He pulls his arm out of hers so he can wrap it around her, holding her close and fiercely, surrounding her with his love to remind her she still had it.

“I’m not going anywhere, Em,” he says, cupping her cheek and making her look at him, “I’m right here - you haven’t lost me.”

“I know, but I almost have so many times and being back there was a reminder of that,” she says, her eyes searching his, “I’m so glad we’re home.”

He knows there is very little he can say to comfort her, that it will take days for her to feel like she’s on an even footing again, so he simply nods. He stamps a kiss on her forehead and then on her lips.

“Me too, sweetheart,” he says, kissing her again, “Me too.”

___

October 2017

She’s only just got both the twins down for their nap when the doorbell rings. She curses under her breath and hopes Aaron can make it to the front door before the doorbell rings again, the chances of getting both Wren and Rose back to sleep if they wake up slim to none.

She hears the front door open and sighs in relief, looking back at her daughters once more before she leaves the nursery. She hears the door close again as she walks down the stairs, baby monitor in hand, and she’s already talking by the time she makes it to the foyer.

“Who was that, honey? Was it the neighbour…” she drifts off as she looks up, her words dying in her throat as her eyes land on someone standing next to her husband who she hadn’t realised knew where they lived, “Dave?”

He smiles at her, “Hi Bella.”

She walks over and hugs him tightly, her eyebrows creasing at the sight of his black eye and the healing cuts on his face, “You look like shit.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, “Nice to see you too.”

Any further conversation is cut off as Jack walks in, Oscar just a few paces behind him as always, and he freezes, “Uncle Dave?”

“Jack,” the older man says, looking past him, “And Oscar, you’re both getting so big.”

Emily looks at her husband, their eyes meeting in a silent conversation and she nods towards the boys.

There was only one reason Dave would be here, that he would risk the protection they’d been forced into almost a year ago.

“Jack,” Aaron says, making eye contact with his oldest, “You can catch up with Uncle Dave later, for now you and Oscar can go play.”

The way he says it leaves no room for argument and Jack knows it, grabbing his younger brother’s hand before he leads him away and further into the house, “Come on Ozzie, the grown-ups need to speak to each other.”

As soon as they are alone Aaron suggests they go to the living room, and Emily watches as Dave looks at the pictures hung on almost every surface of their house, a soft smile on his face as he takes it all in. They all sit down in the living room, Aaron’s hand tight around his wife’s, both of them desperately needing the comfort, familiar panic climbing up both of their throats.

“What’s going on?” Emily asks, “If you’re here that means…”

“Peter Lewis is dead,” he says, finishing the thought she hadn’t dared to verbalise, worried it was almost too good to be true.

The relief is palpable, overwhelming in a way that forces her breath to catch in her chest. It was over. The man who had tried to break them apart was gone.

“You’re sure?” Aaron asks, running his thumb back and forth over his wife’s pulse point, and Dave nods.

“Saw the bastard die myself.”

Emily can tell there is more to the story, a look in her friend’s eyes that he couldn’t hide from them, “What happened?”

They listen as he explains it all to them. How a new member of the team, Stephen, had died in the pursuit of Peter Lewis. How Dave himself had been captured, tortured with the same methods that had been used on Aaron years ago in an attempt to find out where they were. How Spencer and the rest of them had rescued him, and the final showdown that had led to the death of Lewis.

Neither she nor Aaron know what to say, the story heavy as it sits in the air around them, creating a tension that rarely existed in their lives these days. There’s a cry from upstairs, one of the twins awake before she should be, and Emily immediately moves to go see her, but Aaron stops her, his hand on her thigh.

“I’ll go,” he says, the tight smile on his face enough to let her know that he needed a moment, needed a few minutes with one of their children to remind himself that everything was okay. She nods and he stands up, walking over to Dave, who also stands, and pulling the other man into a hug, “Thank you, Dave. I…thank you.”

It didn’t seem like enough, and Aaron wasn’t sure anything ever would, but Dave simply nods, a soft smile on his face.

“Anytime,” he says, his smile turning into a smirk, “Although I think I’m too old to go through it all again so you two better stay out of trouble.”

Aaron chuckles and nods, patting his friend on the back before he leaves the room, his footsteps loud on the stairs as he goes up them. Emily looks at her friend and leans back on the couch, blowing out a steady breath as she shakes her head.

“What’s wrong, Bella?” He asks, and she raises her eyebrow at him, causing him to shrug, “That’s your tell.”

She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath, “That’s what Aaron always says too,” she flashes him a smile, “I don’t know what to do next,” she says, overwhelmed with it all, with the fact they were free, “It’s been so long since we haven’t had to look over our shoulders for him. Fuck, I was still pregnant with the girls when this all started,” she runs her hands over her face, “I don’t know what to do next,” she repeats, not looking for an answer but unable to keep the thought to herself.

“Do you want advice from an old man?”

She smiles as she sits up a little straighter, “That’s the second time you’ve called yourself old since you got here, if you’re fishing for compliments you’re looking in the wrong place,” she jokes, smiling when he shakes his head at her, “Yes, I’d like some advice.”

“Don’t come back.” He says simply. Whatever she had been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that, and she frowns, tilting her head at him in confusion. He chuckles, “Not that I don’t miss having you and your delightful personality around all the time, but the two of you seem happy. Happier than you’ve ever been.” he says, looking around the living room, gesturing at all the signs of their normal, happy life. Half-drawn pictures on paper strewn on the coffee table, photos of all of the stages of the kid's lives, brightly coloured plastic toys in amongst all of the modern furniture, “You have a life away from it all and as someone who has never quite been able to pull himself away, I think you’d be crazy to come back to it.”

She nods, her lips pressed together as she thinks about it. She’s not sure she wants to go back, the mere thought of it, of reintroducing that kind of danger to her day-to-day life, and therefore the lives of her children, almost too much to bear.

“I think you’re right.”

He smirks at her, “Things really have changed, I don’t think you’ve ever said that before.”

She shakes her head and chokes out a laugh, “Stronzo.”

He places his hand on her shoulder and squeezes, his expression serious again, “I mean it, Emily. You both deserve this. I’m not saying you should stay right here, but now he’s gone you can go wherever you want.”

It’s a type of freedom she’d missed. Her life hidden away for the last year or so as she waited for the other shoe to drop, sure every time that she heard a noise in the middle of the night that Lewis had found them.

“It’s strange,” she says, smiling softly at him, “I’ve started from scratch so many times in my life, I never thought I’d do it again.”

Aaron walks into the room, a sleepy but awake Wren on his hip, her tiny fist rubbing at her eye, “That’s a terrible pun, sweetheart.”

She looks back and forth between Dave and Aaron, feeling like she’s missing out on something as they both laugh, and she sighs when the penny drops.

“I didn’t mean that,” she says, unable to stop herself from joining in on the laughter, the sound light and free as it fills the room, “You jerks.”

-x-

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