#andrew + josh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

garbinge · 1 month ago

Text

SHOULD'VE BEEN (2/?)

Andrew Pope Cody x F!Reader Deran Cody & Platonic!Reader Barry 'Baz' Blackwell & Sister!Reader // Word Count: 23.6k (I KNOW OKAY I KNOW) Summary: As you navigate Baz's death, your mind finds itself searching the past for ways to cope. Previous Part Reader is Baz's biological sister. With that being said, I left out physical descriptions outside of a scar on reader's face from backstory. If you catch any, always feel free to let me know and I'll edit! Reader also is (was) a doctor. Due to this, reader has a nickname which is used throughout the fic. In this fic - Pope did not kill Cath. Also, I made all the Cody boys + Baz + Reader closer in age than in canon. Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Canon-level violence. Canonic character death. Mentions of being drugged/slipped something. Hazing. Bullying. Grief. Mourning. Loss of a sibling. Blood. Telling a child about parental death. Mentions of domestic abuse, Semi-graphic descriptions of wounds + violence. Psychologically difficult themes, yearning, angst, hurt/comfort. No use of y/n. SMUT with main character, insinuated smut with a non-canon character. Not really a happy ending? A/N: Okay so I will be writing another part that i already have a bunch of ideas on LOLOL. I just... live for these characters in this world. The dynamics are so ajkfhglkjdfhbljkhgka!!!!!

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:07AM

This is Tri-City Medical, we’re calling because you’re the emergency contact listed in Mr. Barry Blackwell’s phone. He was brought into the emergency department about 10 minutes ago. If you could just give us a call back as soon as possible, thank you.

You didn’t call back, just rushed to the hospital. Traffic laws be damned, ran through traffic lights, through stop signs, you left your bike parked in between two cars, not even in a spot, before you were rushing into the ER.

They brought you to where Baz was, he was on the operating table, you stood in the observation deck. Your arms across your chest, your left hand resting against your mouth, gnawing at your finger as you watched them insert tubes, IVs, blood bags.

“Did you check if the bullets went through and through? If they did they should insert two chest tubes,” you turned to the doctor who was standing in the second aisle of the room.

There was no answer, they just looked up from their notes at you and then back on the screen that was showing the internal cameras searching for the bullets.

“They could have moved, if they hit his lungs they could have gone anywhere in his abdomen, they should be checking his abdomen!” You turned again, looking at the doctor who this time didn’t even look up from their notebook. “Are you listening to me?!” You screamed at them this time, tears pouring from your eyes before they jumped back to the window. Your brother, completely unconscious, tube in his mouth, cut open like a chicken on the operating table.

“C’mon Baz,” you mumbled through a panicked breath. “C’mon.”

“Ms. Blackwell, we’re gonna need to ask you to step into the waiting room.” Someone opened the door to the observation room and spoke low to you.

“No, no, I’m watching.” You pointed at the surgery.

“You really shouldn’t have been here in the first place,” her voice was still low and polite, but you saw her eyes jump to the other doctor in the room.

“No, it’s okay. See, I used to be a doctor, I–I don’t practice anymore, I can’t–but they brought me here because I knew–I know what’s happening.” You were fumbling, stuttering over your thoughts.

“Ms. Blackwell,” the nurse opened the door wider.

It was then that you heard the monitors beeping. Baz’s heart rate dropping, it wasn’t crashing just yet, but you felt your gut twist. “No, no, Baz c’mon. Pull it together. Pull it fucking together.” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Before anything else could happen, there was a hand on your arm, pulling you back. You fought it, thrashed against it a little. “Stop, no, stop, that’s my brother, he’s my brother. I’m a doctor!”

As you sat in the waiting room, tears stained down your face along with mascara, your leg shaking in nerves, you kept gnawing at your finger. You weren’t sure if you thought about it, or if your mind was just on auto-pilot but you had your phone in your hand, the voicemail transcript was the first thing you saw as you unlocked it. The lump in your throat grovelled as the words sat in your head. The worry next to it knowing Baz was in this same building on the last thread of life.

Without a second thought, your phone was ringing and you held it to your ear. You heard the phone pick up and before the other person could answer you spoke through cries.

“Pope?”

“What’s wrong?” His voice was littered with concern.

“I need you.”

That’s how you wished it went. That whole scenario was how you imagined it went as the police officers informed you and Pope of Baz’s death as you stood in the driveway at Smurf’s house.

Pope’s eyes were glued to yours as the officer spoke, yours were—well you weren’t sure, you were going into an alternate world as they spoke.

You wished you were there. You wished you picked up the damn fucking phone when the hospital called. You weren’t sure why you wanted that to be how it happened. It wouldn’t have changed anything, Baz would still be dead.

Your brother would still be dead.

Turning to Pope, your eyes glossed over, you extended your hand out to grab his arm, steadying yourself from the news. Through a wobbly sound that came out of your throat before words, you swallowed and gave it another shot but failed again. This time your head sent you back to a different time. Maybe not a better one, but a different one.

2001 - College Parties Suck

Your head was spinning, and not like when you’d smoke a little too much and mix it with a little too much alcohol. This was different. This was scary. You pulled your phone out, hitting the first speed dial you had programmed in your phone. Baz. It rang 4 times before it went to voicemail. You called 5 more times, each time there was no answer.

You moved onto the next speed dial in your phone. Pope. You tried him once, you felt your eyes getting heavier when you heard the beep to leave a voicemail. “Pope, it’s me, I uh, I don’t feel so good. I came to this party on campus, I just– I need a ride, I think. Yea, I need a ride.”

The phone dropped into your lap and as you looked down you realized you didn’t have your shirt on, just your black bra and belt that was still wrapped around your jeans.

You picked up the phone, moving to the next speed dial, you skipped Craig, he never answered and even in your altered state, you knew better than to even try. That's when you called Deran.

“Hey Doc,” he answered the phone after 2 rings.

“I uh, need a ride,” that’s when you saw the writing on your stomach. “I was at a party on campus,” you couldn’t quite make out the writing just yet, just black ink all over your abdomen. “I think someone put something in my drink.”

“Where the fuck are you?” You heard him scrambling on the other line, the jingle of his keys, the muffling in the speaker as he moved around swiftly wherever he was.

“I– I don’t know. There’s a statue. I’m covered in ink, I don’t have my shirt.” The panic started growing in your gut. “Deran, I’m scared.”

“Go somewhere public, right now, with people. I’m driving to campus now.” His voice wasn’t panicked, just direct.

“They wrote on me, I don’t think I should be in public.” You realized now what your stomach said. Cody train station. With an arrow pointing down. “Deran, I feel sick, I feel tired.”

“I’m like 5 minutes away, try and stay awake.” Deran pressed on the gas with force, the engine loud enough to wake you up just slightly. But not enough for the full 5 minutes. He stayed on the phone with you even when you went silent. When you mentioned a statue, he knew pretty much exactly where you were and it didn’t take him long to find you.

“Get the fuck away from her.” Deran’s voice made your eyelids open, you saw a few people around you, none of them familiar.

“Deran?” You squinted hard and mumbled the youngest Cody’s name.

There was some commotion, you weren’t sure if it was just shoves or punches but the next time you opened your eyes the crowd was gone and you saw the familiar long haired blonde.

“Deran?” You asked his name again and felt the comfort the minute you heard his voice close.

“It’s Deran. I’m taking you home.” He pulled you up off the ground. That’s when he saw the writing on you.

“I’m gonna be sick,” you rolled over and began to upchuck.

“Let it out, that’s good, maybe you’ll throw it up.” Deran was rubbing your back referring to whatever was slipped in your drink.

It took 20 minutes, but Deran eventually got you in his car and drove you back to the house. It was there that you passed out next to him on the couch in the living room. You were lucky it was a quiet night at the Cody house. He put a pillow down for you to rest your head on, occasionally scratching the top of your head with his fingers to make sure you didn’t fall asleep completely, he wasn’t sure if that was just something you did with concussions or being drugged too so he figured there couldn’t be any harm in it to play it safe.

He didn’t bother trying to remove the marker from you, just gave you one of his cut offs to keep you semi-warm in the car. You made it very clear that you wanted to lie down when you got back to Smurf’s house so he wasn’t going to bother with clothes or cleaning you up until you were more alert.

The two of you were watching pre-recorded surf competitions, every so often you’d fade into some version of sleep and wake up when you felt Deran scratch at your head.

“College parties suck,” you mumbled the words while a commercial played on the TV. Then you tried to tap Deran’s side. “Thank you.”

Before Deran could answer, the sliding door slammed, alerting both of you. Pope was running down the hallway from where your bedroom was, his eyes scanning around the house until they landed on you.

His eyes then moved to Deran. “What happened, why is she asleep on the couch?” Pope pointed and was waiting frantically for an answer.

“She was at a party, got drugged, they did some twisted ass shit to her.” Deran’s voice was low, not trying to startle you.

“What did they do to her?” Pope’s jaw was clenched as he asked, his mind going to a million different places, each one making him angrier than the last.

“They wrote on her stomach, she has marks on her arms so I think they tied her up for a bit, so people could see her, when I got there she wasn’t at the party, she was on the road, had a group around her but I don’t think anyone you know—touched her.” Deran swallowed hard, he felt a little below water with all of this.

“Is she going to be okay?” Pope was wracking his brain around seeing you like this, so out of it. Not in a sleepy way but in a fucked up way. He’d seen you drunk, he’d seen you high, this was nothing like that.

“Pope?” You groggily lifted your head, as you moved, the cutoff tank rode up and he saw the writing.

Pope saw red. His eyes felt hot, his fists balled up, his jaw wasn’t just clenched anymore but wound so tight he could taste the iron from how hard he was biting down. He knew exactly who did this. It was the same thing that frat asshole Shotgun Shep had said to you that night he got rocked by Craig and caused a scene with you last summer.

“If you ever need me, you keep calling me, you hear me!?” Pope was yelling at you now.

“I called Baz.” Your voice was a little whiny.

“I’m talking about me! ME.” Pope raised his voice, his finger slamming into his chest.

That’s when Deran sat up a little bit. “Dude, she’s out of it, chill.”

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled the words, the guilt starting to rack in your mind. “Where’s Baz?”

“I don’t know.” Pope answered, his voice still loud but less accusatory now, his own guilt in yelling at you after he saw Deran’s response.

“Where’s my brother?” You now had the same tone as he did earlier. Demanding and raised. “Where’s BAZ?!” This time your voice gripped to the back of your throat as you yelled.

“What’s up?” Baz walked in from the kitchen, beer in hand, casual as ever.

“I needed you.” You weren't looking at him, your words were slurred still. You felt your heart ache. It was one thing to experience him blowing you off, barely talking to you—you know, losing your friendship with your older brother. But this felt worse than all of that. You needed him. You needed your older brother. All the times he needed you, you’d be there, and he couldn’t reciprocate that anymore?

“What’s her deal?” Baz was chuckling as he raised his beer bottle to his lips.

“She was roofied.” Deran’s voice was firm,

“No shit,” he let out a scoff, one that would have earned him a fist to the face from you if you were of sound mind.

“It was Rick Shepherd.” Pope spoke up now, the anger in his voice was what you were feeling in your mind.

“Shotgun Shep?” Deran was looking at Pope with a frown, trying to understand how he knew that information.

“He called her that the last time he was here, at the summer party, Cody train station,” Pope pointed to your stomach, at the writing.

“So we gonna beat the guy up?” Baz extended his hands out and shook his head, a small shrug left his shoulders too, like he was asking if they should order chinese or pizza. Not something this serious.

Pope’s eyes practically burned into Baz’s skull, the anger pouring out of them.

“Taking that as a yes we’re beating the guy up.” Baz dipped his head from side to side before finishing the beer off and tossing the empty bottle on the couch. He began walking down the stairs into the living room, nonchalantly headed towards you. As he leaned over your body, Deran moved his arm so that Baz could replace it with his, pressing the pillow down into the cushions, his head dipped down and he placed a peck on your head. “Don’t worry, Dockie. We’re gonna beat the guy up.”

“Go fuck yourself.” You turned over, despite the amount of dizziness and nausea you felt, you didn’t want to even look at Baz.

“Love you too,” his laugh echoed against the kitchen cabinets, he had already turned to leave with Pope.

“Did I ruin your night?” You mumbled knowing it was just you and Deran in the living room now. Your face squished against the couch cushion.

“No, you saved me from getting head from Jonesy Bradford,” Deran chuckled, putting his arm back against the pillow that separated you too. He slouched down a little more, that way he was closer to your face and could whisper a bit.

“Heads head,” you shrugged and then lifted up a little in question, “Jonesy Bradford is gay?”

“Very.” Deran laughed, eyebrows raised as he smirked.

Shaking your head, you dropped it down back into the cushion, letting the sound of the surf competitions fill the room until you fully comprehended what Deran said.

“You shouldn’t get head from Jonesy Bradford.” Your voice was muffled by the couch cushion, but Deran heard you perfectly fine.

“My point,” Deran let out a breathy laugh and scratched your head again, this time not to wake you up but to be playful.

“Everyone thinks I’m a whore,” you enunciated the last word with a sigh, it sounded a little jokey but you did mean it.

“We don’t think you’re a whore,” Deran was trying to find some way to cheer you up from whatever funk was happening in your head.

“Well no, I am a whore. Just not the Cody whore.” Your voice was muffled against the cushion. Deran knew what you meant, Deran might’ve been the only one who knew what you meant. He was the only one who knew how you felt about Pope, and you were the only one who knew how he felt about guys. Not that you two ever labeled your friendship, but for all intents and purposes, Deran was your closest friend. Sure, him and Craig were like brothers to you, but you had a friend in Deran that you didn’t have in anyone else.

“You can’t tell Smurf,” you said seriously to Deran.

“I won’t tell Smurf,” he replied with ease.

“Baz will tell Smurf,” you scoffed.

“I’ll tell him not to,” Deran always tried to find an answer for you.

“He isn’t going to listen. He never listens.” And you always found something to rebuttal his responses. “It’s fine, I stole Shep’s wallet before things went to shit,” you readjusted to pull the wallet out of the back pocket of your jeans. “Only ninety bucks in his wallet but I found a lock code. He’s in pharmacy school, I think the code is to his locker in the lab, could nab a good amount of shit we could fence.”

Deran laughed, his head shaking as he did. “That’ll save your ass if Baz blabs.”

“When,” you corrected him.

Suddenly, you heard footsteps coming back into the living room and Pope’s voice was loud again, like he was just as frustrated if not more than just a few moments ago.

“If you need me, you call me 15 times until I answer, okay?!” There was a slight grovel in his voice. He had his keys gripped tight in his hand, he was getting ready to go to UCSD with Baz but for some reason came back to yell some more. “I mean it, all you need to say is I need you and I’ll be there, you hear me?!”

“I hear you,” your face got solemn as you looked at him, he regretted yelling again, it was clear on his face as he nodded, his eyes barely able to meet yours. “I’ll tell you I need you.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:10AM

One last shot. You were going to give speaking one last shot as you gripped Pope’s arm. The police officers were still going through their spiel of what went down. One more wobbly sound escaped from your throat followed by a whispered plea.

“Pope, I need you.”

“Yea, I’m here.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:39AM

You were horizontal on the back seats of the Dodge Ram. The numbness fully took over your body as you stared at the dash. Eyes focused on the radio, the controls for the vents, but you weren’t really retaining any of that information. Nor the conversation that Nicky and Pope were having, which was less of a conversation and more just Pope muttering under his breath as they looked for J on The Strand.

Usually the motion of the car would turn your stomach laid up in the back seat like this, but you were so out of it, you couldn’t tell. As the car came to an abrupt stop, you moved slightly, Nicky grabbing your feet to hold you steady on the backseat. Pope’s eyes moved to make sure you were okay before they leaned over the console to call out to J.

“Put her seat belt on,” he demanded back to Nicky who was quick to do it, she said something to you but you weren’t really paying attention, just focused on the middle console. “Get in!” Pope was now yelling to J who opened the door with haste and confusion. “Baz is dead.”

Three words. That pulled your eyes off the middle console and back to two people in the front of the truck.

“What?” J wasn’t yelling, but the shock was there in his tone, plastered on his face. As he hopped into the truck his head turned to see you horizontal in the back. “What happened?”

No one answered him.

He was still looking at you with sympathy, racking his mind around the information but also genuinely concerned about you. “Do you need anything?”

2016 - Homecoming (Pilot)

“How many times have I told you guys, bullets are the hardest to fucking treat,” your head was down as you were texting on your phone, messenger bag draped over your shoulder. “Don’t get–”

“Don’t get shot.” The trio of men repeated as they cut you off and held Craig on the pool table.

Almost immediately you heard the familiar sound of a voice you hadn’t heard in years. As you laid eyes on the men gathered around the pool table, you saw Craig who was dripping sweat, bleeding from his shoulder, quick breaths. Then there was your brother, who was holding Craig down as he attempted to do something with the bullet wound in Craig’s shoulder, he had a shit-eating grin on his face like he was living for this moment. But then your eyes connected with the man you hadn’t seen in years, his hands holding Craig on the opposite side, no smile, just a piercing glare. The voice you’d recognize anywhere. Pope.

“Well at least you know,” you stayed frozen staring at him, not realizing he had gotten out of prison. I mean how could you? He stopped letting you visit, he stopped writing. He looked good, he looked healthy, his hair was cut like shit, those prison haircuts never suited him.

“Ahhh!” Craig screamed and it brought your eyes back to the situation unfolding.

“Is it through and through?” You shook your head and moved to replace Baz and help Craig. “Jesus Christ, you started to cauterize it, already!?”

“We pulled the bullet out, it needed to be sealed!” Baz raised his hands.

“If you aren’t going to listen to me when I tell you to not get shot, then at least listen to when I tell you to leave it be until I get here.” You slammed your bag on the table looking for the kit of surgical tools you had stolen from the hospital inventory all those years ago.

“Sorry, Doc.” Craig looked up through his sweat beaded brows at you.

“Don’t say sorry to me, Baz should say it to you, this is going to hurt 10x more now.” You dropped the tools down and grabbed a saline bottle and poured it onto a fresh package of gauze. “I have to debride it, I’m going to give you something for the pain and I’m gonna ask Pope to hold this against the wound for like 15 minutes, soften the tissue. Then I’m gonna have to pick at it,” you handed the gauze to Pope who hadn’t taken his eyes off you since you stepped in the room, but instead of looking at him you just went into your bag and grabbed a small bottle of morphine and a syringe to give it to him. “This isn’t a lot but it’s enough,” your eyes jumped to Craig’s who smirked, a slight chuckle escaping his mouth.

“C’mon Doc, I got shot.”

“And I guarantee you’re already a few lines and shots in,” your eyes were trained on the syringe pushing a little liquid out the needle. “10 milligrams.”

He sighed with an eye roll as you placed it into his arm. “I’ll be back in 15, where’s Deran?” Your eyes moved anywhere but Pope’s.

“He’s in the living room with Smurf, nursing his own wounds,” Baz gave you a look, one that you knew meant he fucked up the job tonight and was living with that regret. You knew better than to interrupt Smurf’s coddling so you just raised your eyebrows at your brother. Before either of you could say anything, there was a creak on the stairs that led to the hall right behind the kitchen and you both turned your heads.

You recognized him, Julia’s kid, Josh. Your eyes went wide and then they fell to Baz who also looked a little thrown off, but less thrown than you. Everyone just stayed frozen, J’s eyes jumping from all of yours to Craig who was just slightly less loud than before, the morphine clearly doing its work.

“Josh, right?” You broke the silence.

“Yea, J.” You could tell he was trying to read you.

“J,” you corrected yourself before turning to look at Pope to make sure he was putting the gauze on the wound for Craig. “Apparently it’s the night for old faces to turn up.” Looking back at J you sighed. “I’m–”

“Aunt Doc.” He finished your sentence for you.

“Yea, Aunt Doc. You can just call me Doc, though.” You weren’t going to make a kid who didn’t know you get caught up in mannerisms. He didn’t owe you that.

It was then that you realized he probably knew you visited Julia, never for long, just enough to drop food off, say hi, you never saw him though, just Julia. You knew he was Baz’s kid, or that the chance he was was pretty high.

“Is your mom here?” You were crossing your arms, a little shocked to see the kid all grown up and here at Smurf’s place.

“My mom’s dead–she OD’d.” J said it with no emotion.

Your head snapped to Baz who had his hand behind his neck, knowing you were going to ring him out for not telling you and then to Julia’s twin—Pope, for his response, but all he did was stare.

“Uh, I’m so sorry I had no idea, uhm–” you weren’t sure what to say right now, your head was going a mile a minute, trying to wrap itself around the fact that Pope was back, Julia was gone, and J seemed to be staying here now.

“I’m gonna go to bed, kind of tired.” J pointed over his shoulder before retreating down the hall.

“I’m away for 3 days and everything fucking happens,” You mumbled, turning around, you practically ripped the gauze out of Pope’s hand to see how the tissue on Craig’s wound was softening. “Needs more time.” You didn’t even bother to look at Pope to grab the gauze back, just turned back around towards the kitchen, your shoulder bumping into Baz’s as you did.

“Dockie,” Baz’s head fell back in slight annoyance.

You ignored him going into the fridge to act like you were busy doing something but it was just a mindless activity.

“Dockie,” Baz called you again.

“What?!” You hissed the word and slammed the fridge, hard enough that it bounced wide open again. “What excuse are you going to force me to fucking believe this time?”

“It’s no excuse,” Baz was pleading.

“I’m away dealing with your shit,” you pushed your finger into his abdomen, “and you can’t even fucking call me to tell me Pope got out? That Julia fucking died and her kid is fucking living here?”

“You went to Mexico for your own shit,” Baz tried to correct you.

Your eyes went wide. “My own shit,” you let your head fall back with a laugh. “Here’s the fucking note from your fucking mistress, and the gift you wanted me to give her fucking kid went over well,” you pulled the note from Lucy out and slammed it against Baz’s chest.

“You went down there for your own stockpile of supplies, I just asked you for a favor,” Baz was being a shit right now.

“Well now I’m asking you for one, keep me in the loop.” Your eyes glared into him.

“I was going to tell you, but then Craig got shot.” There it was, Baz’s excuse. Although, it wasn’t necessarily an excuse, it wasn’t a lie. Just a sorry form of the truth.

“I used to wish you’d just tell me the truth, but now I think it was better when you’d respect me enough to come up with some story why you’d treat me like this.” Your head was shaking in anger.

“You ever think the reason you’re out of the loop sometimes is because you just bitch and whine, bitch and whine.” Baz’s voice barked back at you, still at a hushed tone.

“Go play in traffic,” you spat back at him.

“Fine—you first, I’ll bring the snacks.” He smiled sarcastically.

“I’ll bring Lucy, that way you aren’t lonely in hell.” It was a typical fight between you two. You’d both say something fucked up, but nothing that was too harsh or heartbreaking. The real heartbreaking matter was that your relationship had gotten to this point to begin with.

“Don’t do that,” Baz shook his head and slammed the fridge closed behind you.

“Do what?” You made a face, scrunching your nose up and frowning.

“Act like you don’t want me here, like you wouldn’t be completely devastated if I was dead.” That line made you freeze. You’d normally go toe to toe with Baz in a verbal fight anyday. Quick responses, even faster reaction times when he’d hit you with unexpected words. But not this time.

You stared at him, your eyes burning into his and you realized he wasn’t just fighting with you, he was being serious.

There was a rebuttal on your tongue. I lived without the other Blackwell man in my life, I’d do it again no issue. Dead or deadbeat. I’ll bring you beer and cat food too—make it real full circle. But you knew that was crossing a line, and whether he crossed them with you wasn’t on you. This was.

“Just…tell me shit.” You dropped your eyes to the floor. “I don’t like being surprised.”

“Pope’s home, Julia OD’d, J’s living at Smurfs.” Baz gripped your shoulder and shook it, his way of making it up to you. It held no weight, it was the easy way out. “I was going to call you, I promise. And thank you for stopping by Lucy’s, I know you hate it, I know you hate me for it, but I appreciate it, and you.”

It was just words. You knew they were just words.

“When did Pope get home?” You whispered it, knowing he probably heard the entire conversation up to this point.

“Yesterday,” Baz dropped his head to look at you. “You’re not still…?” He didn’t need to finish the sentence for you to understand what he was saying.

“I never was,” your eyes flew up. “What about you, Julia’s dead? How are you with all that? J?”

“It’s Smurf’s problem, not mine.” Baz’s eyes did what yours just did.

“Alright then.” You nodded, arms crossed now.

“Alright then.” He matched your stance.

That was the end of that conversation, you moved back to the dining room to pick tissue from Craig. Pope stayed there the whole time, eyes on you saying no words. But you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Not once. Your eyes stayed trained on Craig’s wound for the full 43 minutes you picked dead and soon to be infected tissue off him.

As you inserted an IV into his arm, you dropped the bag into Pope’s hand, still keeping your eyes anywhere but his. “He needs to be on an IV for 6 hours, when it runs out, have Baz find me and I’ll set up a new one.” You didn’t wait for him to respond, just grabbed your bag and moved down the hallway behind the kitchen, the longer way to your room but the quickest way away from Pope.

It was there that you saw J sitting up on the bed in what used to be Pope’s old room. You stopped and looked at him, he looked like Baz, and everyone just ignored it. Without a second thought, you walked into the small patio and then into his room.

“Do you need anything?” You said it following a soft knock on the glass door. “I’ve been away otherwise I would have been here sooner.” It was a wimpy excuse, but it was the truth, and despite your argument being completely the opposite to Baz just moments earlier, if he had started with wimpy truths from the jump, maybe you’d be somewhere different now.

“I heard,” J pointed to the kitchen nonchalantly.

Your eyes looked back and realized both doors had been wide open and he heard your fight with Baz.

With a nod, you exhaled and looked back at the young kid. “I’m not sure how much you’ve heard since you’ve been here—”

“I’m not gonna say anything.” He cut you off.

“No, no, I–” You shook your head and moved to sit next to him on the mattress. “That’s not what I was saying. I just mean…” you searched your mind for the right words. “Being here is a game. One that you have to play to learn.”

“You used to come by, give my mom meds, bring us food,” J didn’t seem to care about your words right now.

“Yea, I did. I should’ve done more. But that’s my guilt to live with, not yours,” instinctually you wanted to tap his leg but you knew you were nowhere near that point with the kid yet so you just shook your head and moved on. “Here, take these,” you leaned down to pull a few boxes out of your messenger bag and handed them to him. “It’s narcan, I give a few boxes every so often to the guys too. Keep them on you, in case.”

“You used to give them to my mom,” J was staring at the 5 boxes of narcan, they weren’t cheap off-brand meds, they were the name brand hospital grade.

“Yea,” you looked down at the ground again thinking back to the boxes you’d hide below a foil container of food, just so she’d have them and not argue with you on it. Lot of good that did. “Look, I play the game, but not with everyone. This is my way of saying, I’m here for whatever you need. If you’re hurt, if you need to talk, I’m here. You’re my…nephew.” It was genuine, just like when you’d sneak away to visit Julia.

“My mom said you were like a sister to her,” you could hear the hesitation in his voice.

“Yea,” although that’s not what you meant in calling him your nephew, but you weren’t an idiot, there was too much going on to open that box of worms right now. “I wish I did more for her.”

“You did more than anyone else.” He finally looked at you, like he was letting you off the hook in a way. It wasn’t going to be that easy, but you did appreciate it.

Standing up off the bed, you smiled at him. “I’ll be in the back room of the house, my old bedroom. But I have a place on The Strand,I’ll get your number from one of the guys and text you so you have my number too.” You rested your hand on the door frame. “I’m serious, let me know if you need anything.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 11:43AM “Homicide cops want us all to come down to the station for questions,” Pope was entering the living room where Deran, J, and Nicky, and you were. You had your head on a pillow, horizontal just like you were in the truck, this time just on the red couches that took up the space along the living room walls. If it was up to you that’s where you would have stayed the entire time. There would have been no dragging you into the truck to look for J, no picking up Deran at the bar, you would have been right here. Numb and parallel to the couch.

But when you told Pope you needed him, he took that seriously. He brought you with him everywhere he went, there wasn’t a moment you were out of his radius.

You knew he was looking out for you while also trying to have a handle on the situation, keep everyone safe. It’s why he placed you down on the couch against the pillow and made Deran sit next to you.

“Do that shit you do,” he pointed to the top of your head after he told Deran to sit next to you.

“What?” Deran was out of it too, not like you, but he was clearly sad. Going through the motions. His eyes were heavy, glossy, and his face was red.

“You scratch her head or something, it calms her down.” Pope would have been the one to notice that over the years.

Deran just looked at Pope confused before it clicked, he looked down at you completely frozen, no reaction to words, to movement to anything. As he looked back up at Pope, who moved his hand again as if to say C’mon let’s go, just do it.

Deran obliged, his left hand went to scratch the top of your head, just his fingertips like he’d done always. It was a comfort, one that neither one of you ever noticed. As he scratched the top of your head, you normally would have closed your eyes, felt the weight of your tears and let them out but none of that happened. You didn’t even flinch from the touch, just stared blankly at the fireplace.

Pope dropped his shoulders and handed Deran a shotgun after the failed attempt at comfort.

The conversation continued between them, they were talking about what they’d tell the cops, who could have done this, if anyone was after them. You stayed focused on the fireplace, mind somewhere else completely.

That was until you heard Nicky mention Lena.

Whose going to take care of Lena? Both of her parents are gone. Does she end up in foster care?

“No.” You and Pope both spoke up at the same time, his eyes darted to yours from Nicky’s. You were pushing up off the couch, sitting up right now. “I’ll take care of her.” You said it like you were going to be babysitting for the night, not taking her on as your own for the rest of your life. But that didn’t matter, that girl needed some stability and you’d gladly be the one to give it to her. You were the only one here with a real job, the only one with a semi-clean record, a normal life. It had to be you.

“I need the Jag,” you turned to Pope.

“I’ll drive you where you need to go,” his voice softened in a way that it never did with anyone else.

“No, you need to go to the station for questions,” you were keeping your sentences short at the moment, not in the right headspace to explain everything going on in your head.

“So do you,” he frowned a little trying his best to understand.

“I also need to identify the body, that’s what the police said this morning, and then I need to pick Lena up from school, and figure out funeral arrangements, and legal shit and make sure that I can adopt Lena or at least keep her in my custody. I need to call my job and take bereavement and I have to go to his place and figure out if I’m moving in there or taking Lena with me to my place—which one I’m going to sell.” You went from having no thoughts to a million.

“You can’t go alone,” Pope wasn’t going to argue with you, but he wasn’t going to leave you vulnerable either.

“I have a gun, I have a brain, if someone runs up on me I can handle them, I’ll keep my head on a swivel.”

Pope wasn’t going to argue anymore, he just pulled another gun from his waistband as you stood up and walked to stand next to him. “Take this, too.” The gun was being handed to you, Pope had his hand wrapped around the barrel with the handle free for you to grab. A few seconds passed while you stared at Pope, the handle just inches away from brushing against your abdomen.

“Thanks,” you grabbed it and tucked it into your waistband, then saw the Jag keys in his palm.

As your fingers grabbed the keys, his hand gripped around yours and brought it closer to him. “You call me if you need me, I don’t care if it’s for a light on the dash or someone looks at you funny, you call me.”

“I’ll call you, I promise,” you said it with honesty, you knew brushing him off would have done nothing but make him repeat himself again. Turning you looked back at J, and tilted your head towards the kitchen. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

J’s eyes jumped from yours to Pope’s, then Deran who all gave no indication they had any idea what you were planning on saying.

“Uh, yea,” J stood up, following you into the kitchen. It was there that you closed your eyes and tried to really pull yourself out of your head, all the thoughts that were crashing down on you that your numbing state earlier blocked out.

“Okay, so I should’ve done this earlier. Just like with your mom, but again that’s my shit to fucking deal with, not yours. But at this point Baz is fucking dead, so any shit I was trying to tip-toe around is dead with him.” Your voice was cutting, likely the first stage of grief manifesting itself in your words.

J’s eyes were locked on you, confused by your lack of context with what you were saying.

“Look, I know you’re grown up, you’re 18, you don’t need someone to play mom and dad, but since Lena does, I’m going to figure out whatever I need to so she’s legally in my care. I’ll probably move her into my place or maybe I’ll move into Baz’s but either way, what I’m trying to get at is you have a place with me, alright? If you need to get away from this shit here, for good, for a night, for a week, whatever, you always have a place with me.” You were a little frantic in your delivery but it didn’t change the sentiment.

“Thanks…” J was searching for the right words.

“You’re my nephew just as much as Lena is my niece,” that sentence was said with no shakiness, just truth. “What I’m doing for her now, I should’ve done for you then. But since I can’t change what I did then, I’m gonna do things differently now.” You nodded your head and looked up at him with soft eyes.

“Alright,” J nodded and gave you a soft smile.

“Alright,” you nodded back, taking one quick step toward him and tapped his arm. “I’ll call you later, check on you. Let me go do all this shit.”

Turning for the sliding doors, you paused when J called your name.

“Let me know if you need anything, seriously. I meant it before,” J said.

“I appreciate it, kid. But right now I need to go identify my piece of shit dead brother’s body and the conflict of that is even above my fucked up concept of life so I’ll spare you, but I’ll reach out if anything pops up.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 1:04PM

You wished you were numb like you were hours ago. As you bounced your leg up and down in the waiting room, your mind went through the list of everything you needed to get done. Funeral, assets, Lena, custody, place to live, the list went on. You kept your eye on your watch, checking it every so often to make sure you weren’t cutting it too close to Lena’s school pickup. The questioning was already done, they asked you where you were, names of alibis, if you knew anyone that would want to kill your brother. Normal questions. That made you chuckle to yourself, probably earning you eyes from a few people around you. Nothing about this was normal.

They called you back, like you were waiting at the fucking DMV or something, not identify your brother’s body. The frustration was seeping off your body as you walked through hallways and through door after door. After a few sighs and eye rolls, you entered the room where you saw the white sheet over Baz’s lifeless body. Almost immediately your entire mood changed, you noticed how cold it was in the room, how your hands were shaking now. As they pulled the sheet back, you felt your breath hitch, the anger suddenly gone, it was replaced with an emotion you weren’t really familiar with. It was a mix of nostalgia, a longing for the past, sonder, as you thought about the complexities of Baz’s existence as he lifelessly laid on the metal table, and a physical feeling of being so beyond out of place. You wish you could go back to being numb again, everything then was easier to deal with, probably because you weren’t dealing with it at all. As you stared at Baz’s blue and frigid face, your mind brought you back to another complicated moment in yours and Baz’s history. A recent one.

2017 - Planning The Church Heist

Your feet were kicked up on the coffee table as you sipped a bottle of beer. Your eyes trained on the TV but you were intently listening to the boys talk about what the next job was going to be. Yacht or church. Your vote didn’t matter and wasn’t ever taken into consideration, you never got an equal share and you weren’t expecting one now, especially since all of them were pulling away from Smurf and deciding new rules. You had started to get up off the couch, stand up to toss your empty bottle in the recycle and say your goodbyes, but the movement turned the attention on you.

“Dockie, can you reach out to your cop boyfriend? See if security at the church has friends in blue, if there’s been any chatter of similar hits in the area, let us know what we’re walking into with either jobs.” Baz was interrupting everyone’s arguments to talk to you.

After placing the bottle in the recycle you turned to Baz with your face twisted up ready to respond in argument when you were interrupted.

“You have a cop boyfriend?” Pope’s question was littered in shock and a little humor, you heard the curiosity for what it was though, jealousy.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you looked at Pope to answer his question and moved your eyes onto Baz. “He’s a contact, I went to school with him, he’s a dick.” Your arms were crossed.

“Well, yea, most cops are,” Pope said matter of factly.

“What am I supposed to do? Take him out and wine and dine him? C’mon. We can do our own recon, I’ll sit outside the fucking church or on the docks all night if I have to, just don’t make me go to dinner with this guy.”

“It’s one dinner, make him pay,” Baz shrugged like it was no big deal.

“He’s a creep, Baz.” You thought that repeating it would make him get it, and maybe, sure you were being a little over exaggerated, but he did have a lingering eye.

“We’ll cut you in, no more percentages.” That was his bargaining chip and he knew you wouldn’t be able to resist it, you could use the money.

“I’ll go when you go, sit in the restaurant and make sure your boyfriend doesn’t get handsy,” Deran was teasing you from his spot at the breakfast bar.

“Can we please stop calling him my boyfriend?” You were shaking your head, you already knew you’d cave in and do it. “For what it’s worth I think both jobs are stupid and asking for trouble.” You were grabbing another beer and plopping back down on the sofa, that was your way of agreeing to do the work.

All of them went back to arguing, you were practically done with the second beer now. This time you were going to get up and head out for real, call this asshole cop and set a time for dinner, but then you heard a little voice.

“Daddy?”

“What?! Lena, how many times do I have to tell you? No beach. Not happening.” Baz’s voice echoed through the whole house.

Before you even had a chance to turn around, see Lena’s face or even the rest of the guys, you heard Pope.

“I’ll—I’ll —I’ll t-take you,” his hand extended over the bar towards his niece. “If it’s okay with your dad.”

That made you let out a silent laugh. “I’ll go with you guys,” you placed your beer bottle on the coffee table and stood up, not waiting for Baz to answer. You grabbed Lena’s hand and looked up at Pope who was making his way over to you both, picking up Lena’s drawing and complimenting her on it.

The two of you went to the beach, stopping first on the playground that was near The Strand but still on the sand.

You pumped your legs on the swing next to Lena, cheering her on as you both soared back and forth. Pope was leaning against the park sign post, watching both of you intently.

“I think I’m going too fast and high,” Lena’s little voice got wobbly and you were quick to slow your own swing down and grab the chains of hers.

“I got you,” you gripped the seat now and controlled her swings. Pope was moving towards you now, worry on his face when you looked over your shoulder. “S’ok, she just got a little nervous.”

It was then that the swing you were on got taken by some kid who was pretty chatty, you took that as your sign to step back and let her play with kids her own age.

You stood on the opposite side of Pope, leaning on the metal pole just like he was.

“So you gonna call the cop?” His voice was raspy.

“Whatever Baz wants, Baz gets.” Your voice was littered with annoyance.

“It doesn't have to be that way,” his arms were crossed, sunglasses perched on his face.

“Says the guy who asked his permission to take his niece to the beach, everything needs his approval, I mean even the job,” you raised your hand and it fell back down against your thigh. “You know it, too. It’s already decided, we’re doing the church.” You shrugged. “And he can’t even be bothered to be a decent dad, again.”

“Are you really with the cop?” Pope let his internal thoughts become outloud.

You smirked, looking out at Lena and the horizon while you pulled a pack of cigarettes from your jacket pocket. “No.”

“Are you with anyone?” He reiterated.

This time you looked over at him, hiding your smile between the cigarette in your mouth. “No.”

Silence grew between you two. The sounds of the kids playing and yelling filled the space, Lena’s laughs and giggles as she went just as high as before, this time with no problem as she tried to beat the kid next to her.

“You want ice cream?” Pope was pushing off the sign.

“Only if you’re buying.” You took one last inhale of the cigarette and put it out on the bottom of your shoe before placing it in the ashtray above the trash can.

The walk home on The Strand was nice, Lena was in between you both, huge cup of cookies and cream ice cream in her hands as she skipped happily. You had your own cup, so did Pope.

“You want one of my gummy bears, kid?” You scooped one up and dropped it into Lena’s cup before she could even answer.

“Thanks Auntie Doc,” she grinned and immediately ate it.

“Thank Uncle Pope, he splurged for us,” you bumped his shoulder.

After she thanked Pope, her eyes fell on hopscotch squares that were drawn in chalk on the concrete, only a few feet away from Baz’s, she asked eagerly if she could go ahead and both of you agreed.

“You used to take me for ice cream after we’d hang out at the skatepark,” you mindlessly picked the spoon of ice cream up and toyed with it before taking a bite.

“Half chocolate, half vanilla, gummy bears and hot fudge to keep them soft.” Pope read out your order.

“You used to scare the cashier to make sure he gave me extra gummy bears,” for you it was a funny memory, but it clearly did something to Pope.

“Everyone’s scared of me,” he tossed his ice cream into the trash.

Your eyes looked up and saw how genuine he was and you took a beat, taking one more bite of your ice cream before tossing it too. “They don’t understand you, Pope.”

You let that hang in the air a bit, really wanting that sentiment to sit with him.

“If they did,” you turned to him, now at the steps of Baz’s. “They’d love you.”

Before he could respond, Baz was opening the screen door. “Where’s the kid?”

“She’s playing hopscotch,” you pointed to Lena who was having the time of her life.

“You call the cop?” Baz was leaning against the column.

“I will.” You stepped up a few steps and leaned against the railing.

“Just ask him about the church, nothing else,” Baz was looking out at Lena and that’s when you made eye contact with Pope and raised your brows in a knowing way.

“Auntie Doc, can you read me a bedtime story?!” Lena was yelling out from the road to you.

“Yea, Lena-love! C’mon let’s pick one.” You waved her over but not before checking to make sure there were no cars coming. She was in your arms in seconds. “Say goodnight to Uncle Pope.” You leaned so she could reach him, her arms wrapping around his neck. “G’night Uncle Pope.”

“Goodnight,” he nodded and you saw his smile.

“Go, I’ll be inside to say goodnight soon,” Baz waved both of you inside, his hand squeezing both yours and Lena’s shoulders as you passed.

“I’m going to Mexico tomorrow, I might need you and Doc to pick Lena up from school and shit,” Baz thought telling Pope would be the easy one.

“You should spend more time with her,” Pope didn’t mind picking Lena up, but he saw how little Baz had been involved lately.

“Any more parenting tips for me, man?” There was a chuckle that left Baz’s mouth, but it was less of a laugh and more of a warning.

“I mean, she definitely didn’t love that you yelled at her earlier,” Pope had his hands at his sides as he shrugged.

“You know, why don’t you figure out your own shit before you start telling me how to raise my kid?” Baz was yelling now, his voice could be heard from inside which is when you grabbed Lena’s headphones.

“Why don’t we play a song to help us get in the mood for the story, yea?” You placed the headphones on her head and connected it to her tablet, quickly pressing the first mermaid video you saw since she had picked up a marine book.

“No one's ever gonna have a kid with you, ever!” Baz’s voice was echoing so loudly, it was a miracle Lena didn’t flinch. You held up your hand to show her you’d be back in a minute. Stepping out of her room, you waited in the living room for your brother, arms crossed.

As he slammed the door and walked into his house, he didn’t even look at you.

“What the hell was that?” You turned your body to face him, looking out the front door to see Pope still standing there, processing Baz’s words.

“What?” He snapped.

“You need to chill, I know you’re dealing with a lot but you have a little girl who depends on you,” you weren’t trying to be mean, you weren’t even trying to hound him, you were being honest with him.

“You know what I need? I need you to shut the fuck up and mind your business.” He was slamming his hand on the tiled table.

“Mind it until you need me in it, right?” You weren’t backing down. “Mind it until you call me because you’re somewhere doing something and need me to pick your kid up,” you pressed a finger to the other like you were beginning to count. “Mind it until you need me to reach out to someone I know and run recon that you can easily do yourself but don’t want to, mind it until you’re beat to shit and need meds from my fucking stockpile, mind it until you need someone to parent your fucking kid or do your laundry or dishes or straighten up your place,” your voice was just as loud now and you were glad Lena had her headphones on.

“You know, we used to be close. Hell, you’d take fucking beatings for me. We’d sneak out and get snacks from some corner store and put Ray’s hand in hot water and watch him piss himself when he was passed out drunk in the recliner. You gave a shit about me, you gave a shit about everything. The minute we walked into Smurf’s house, I lost you to her, we all did,” you stepped closer to Baz now. “You made me lose my job, Baz. My job. What I worked hard for. What was supposed to be my life.” Your voice cracked. “And now I’m here watching your kid, taking her to the beach for ice cream with her fucking Uncle, because you can’t be bothered with anything that doesn’t serve you.” Your voice echoed against the walls.

Baz went to respond but then stopped. His eyes changed their position, almost looking evil in what he was thinking. His tongue swiped along the bottom of his lip before he shook his head with a smirk. “If you want to play fucking house with Pope be my guest, but don’t do it with my kid.”

“Which one? The one you abandoned Julia with? Or the one you abandoned Lucy with? Or the one you’re about to abandon?” Your words had a bite to them. “You’re not a good person Baz, you’re not. I love you, you’re my brother, and I will always love you but you suck. And for the record it’s not playing house when we’re the only two people who give a single fuck about what happens to her, you don’t care Baz, and it used to be okay when it was me, when it was Pope, but this is your child, she has no one else, she needs you. You think you’re nothing like dad but you’re the spitting image of him, but Lena doesn’t have an older brother in her life to look out for her, and you know what? She’s probably better off for it. Because he’d learn from you and abandon her when she needed him the most. At least this way she has me, she has Pope, someone who knows when school fucking ends, what grade she’s in, what TV shows she likes. You treat her like a burden and she realizes that, she’s fucking 6 years old Baz, she’s a kid, a fucking kid.”

After your long winded statement, you didn’t give him time to answer. Turning around, you went to go back to Lena’s room, say goodbye to her and tell her you were sorry you couldn’t stay for the story. She didn’t mind, you told her you’d see her tomorrow, which was the truth, you heard Baz’s plan to go to Mexico tomorrow.

As you closed Lena’s door, you turned to your brother who was clenching his jaw. “When you leave tomorrow, call Pope, not me. I don’t want to hear from you about anything besides the job.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 4:15PM

That wasn’t the last time you talked to Baz, far from it. In fact, you had in some way made up from that fight at a point. You always did, but it was never a real fix. You never talked about the real problem, any real solutions, he was always running from it, and maybe in a way you were too.

It’s what you were currently doing, running from it. As you unloaded Lena from the car in Baz’s driveway, your eyes clocked the blood stained sidewalk and the blood that was on the siding of the front porch as well. You were quick to hide it from the girl and told her to go play on the playground that was just a few feet down from his house.

As she happily obliged, you stood on the sidewalk, your eyes staring at the blood that seeped into the concrete, it felt harrowing. It felt like a metaphor for something. The stain Baz was going to leave on your life, on everything. You felt your heart pick up, your mind was still trying to grieve the idea of Baz you had created in your head and begged for him to be, and now it was forced to deal with grieving him completely. It was a lot to take in, and seeing his blood here on the sidewalk, felt like it was forcing you to take it all in right now, rubbing it in your face. Every memory, every fight, every disappointment, every loss of what was to come, what could’ve been, what should’ve been. He was haunting you, it hadn’t even been 24 hours yet and Baz was haunting you.

Someone calling your name brought you out of your spiral, it couldn’t have been one of the boys, they never used your full name unless it was serious and that was rare, although one could argue rare circumstances were upon you all. But you could tell by the voice it wasn’t someone that familiar, and you were right. There was Travis Callahan, the dirty cop you had wrapped around your finger. One dinner and he had made it a point to run into you at least once a week. Nothing inappropriate, but still an annoyance.

“Hey, I just heard about your brother, I came down as soon as I could, are you okay?” He had his uniform on, his car was parked across the street, you must’ve missed it in the middle of your spiral.

“Hey,” you closed your eyes and shook your head, “Yea, thanks Travis, you didn’t need to come down here, it’s all well you know, it’s family stuff.” You tried to put on your best brave face.

“No, I know, I just— the guys at the station said you had stopped by right before I came in for my shift, I just figured I’d come check on you, I know this isn’t anything serious— between us meaning, but I don’t know, it’s your brother and he’s dead.”

You tried to hold onto the sweet parts of his sentence, he was an airhead most days and today was no different.

“Thanks for the reminder,” you smiled, sarcastically.

“Shit, sorry. I just—just wanted to check on you.” He ran his hand through his gelled hair.

“Thanks, Travis, really I appreciate it,” your face softened, maybe you had misjudged him all this time. When you would run into him, you didn’t talk about anything that wasn’t in small talk or co-worker talk territory, and he did just come to check on you, so maybe you should just smile and take it for what it was, someone being kind.

“If you need a distraction, or if it helps not to be alone, I’m around, if you need…” he trailed off and that’s when you almost let out an audible laugh. Here you were feeling guilty for misjudging the guy when he was only here to jump at the chance to manipulate your grief.

“What?” You thought you’d give him the chance to pull back a bit, earn a bit of something back, but he just doubled down.

“You’re allowed to want comfort, you know. Even if it doesn’t make sense right now.”

“I think I’m good, Travis. Alone is kind of my thing,” and still despite him reinforcing the fact he was a dick, you still let him down softly.

“But you shouldn’t have to go through this alone. If you need someone, even just to stay the night, I can be here.”

“She said she was good,” Pope’s voice made both of you turn your heads, he was walking up from his truck that was parked a few feet behind both of you.

You closed your eyes and mumbled a few words, something along the lines of here we go or great, this day sucks.

“Pope.” Travis greeted the eldest Cody, his hands instinctively going to rest on the vest he was wearing over his uniform. “Sorry to hear about Baz.”

“I’m sure,” Pope was behind you now. “This is kind of a family issue we have to deal with,” that was his way of politely telling Travis to leave and you knew Pope wasn’t going to ask again.

“I’m serious,” Travis put his attention back on you. “Call me if you need anything.”

Before you could answer, this time you planned to be a little more forceful, tell Travis you didn’t need anything and that unless he had any investigation news he should let you grieve with the family, Pope stepped in front of you.

“She’s taken care of, Officer Callahan, you can go.” His hand pointed to the cop car.

“Pope.” You hissed.

“Nah, it’s alright. I’ll see you around,” he waved and moved back to his car, Pope kept his eyes on him until the car was well down the street.

When he turned back around to you, he saw how angry you were.

“I thought you said you weren’t dating that asshole?”

“I’m not.” You went to rub the top of your head.

“You trust him,” that realization broke Pope a little bit. He was the person you called, and despite never talking about whatever shit was going on between you, being the person you relied on was what kept Pope together.

“He’s a contact, Pope. I trust his intel, I trust his ability to find dirt on what’s dirty, that’s it.” You were reaching a limit. “I had it handled.”

“I handled it for you.” He shrugged like it was no big deal. “I thought I told you to call me if anything happened.”

“Nothing happened!” Your voice cracked as you yelled, one arm across your chest and the other lifting off your forehead frantically. “I told you I had it handled.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Pope was a little taken back, he hadn’t heard you get like this towards him in a long time, you normally saved that for Baz.

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry. I just— I need to tell my niece that her dad is dead and I don’t have the space to deal with this,” you moved your arms around referencing everything around you. The blood on the sidewalk, Travis and Pope’s ego contest, your crippling emotions.

“I can tell her if you want?” Pope was just trying to be helpful now, he was dropping the Travis thing.

With a deep breath you extended your hands out and grabbed his forearms. “No, thank you,” you let out a sigh and squeezed his arms. “Looking at the body fucked me up, I’m sorry I’m in a mood,” you shook your head and dropped his arms, letting your hand run down your face. “I can tell her, she’s on the playset right now and I’m gonna just feel it out. Can you take care of this blood, I don’t want her to see this.” You nodded to the stain.

Pope didn’t even look at it, not even a glance or a minute to suss out the situation to see if he could even do it. He would make it happen, no questions. “Consider it taken care of.”

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 5:04PM

Sitting on the swings that weren’t too far off from Baz’s place, Lena to your right, sun setting in front of you, you debated in your head the best way to tell her for a while. You could wait, but it wouldn’t change anything. You could just say it, but what would that do to her in the long run? You had to do this the right way, if that even existed.

“Hey Lena?” You leaned against the swing chain, your legs slightly moving against the ground swaying you back and forth. Her head turned to you and the way her eyes met yours despite the sun making her squint made your heart ache, but you still couldn’t find it in you to cry. “I have to tell you something that might be hard to hear, so when I tell you, feel free to ask me any questions or tell me whatever you’re thinking or feeling. None of that will be bad or wrong, okay?”

She nodded and with one last exhale, you told her.

“Your daddy got hurt really badly today and they had to take him to the hospital. The doctors did a bunch of stuff trying to help him but they weren’t able to fix what happened to him.” You hoped that was the right way to phrase it.

“Daddy is dead?” Her voice sounded even more innocent than before and it broke you.

“Yea, Daddy is dead.” She had to hear those words, no matter how hard they were to say.

“Were you one of the doctors that tried to help him?” Her voice was so curious, like she didn’t really process much yet.

Her question gutted you, bringing you back to being told by the police, everything you wished happened, how you wanted to be there at the hospital but weren’t.

But you were here now and this is what would matter moving forward.

“I wasn’t, Auntie Doc doesn’t work at the hospital anymore,” you answered her.

“Oh,” it was a simple response from her.

“You know how your daddy is my brother?” You looked out to the ocean.

“Yea,” Lena did the same.

“When I was about your age, he was just a liiiiittle older than me. He’d take me with him to the skate park with him and Uncle Pope, and never because he had to. No one told him to take me, but he always wanted to bring me. It was before we were living with Grandma Smurf, when we lived with our dad,” you looked back at Lena.

“Daddy sometimes talked about his dad, he said his name was Rain,” Lena shrugged.

“Yea,” you smirked, “Ray.” Continuing the story, you lifted your legs off the ground and started to swing slightly.

“So at this skate park, I really couldn’t skate, Grandma Smurf got me a scooter I’d leave at her house because it was the easiest thing to do,” that made Lena giggle. “But this one time, I took this kid’s skateboard because I really wanted to skate like Daddy and Uncle Pope.”

“Were you able to?” Lena asked curiously.

“No,” you laughed. “I fell on one of the ramps and the skateboard came right back into me, I had scrapes and cuts all over me.”

Lena made a yikes face.

“I know,” you raised your eyebrows. “But your daddy, he got so mad,” you took a deep inhale.

“At you?” Lena raised her voice.

“Yea, at me and the boy whose skateboard I took,” you put your feet back down on the ground and looked at Lena. “He yelled at me and then he yelled at the boy.”

“What did Uncle Pope do?” Lena’s eyebrows frowned.

“He took care of me, cleaned up my scratches and he bought a bike from the skate shop so he could give me a ride and I didn’t have to limp my scooter home,” you remembered Pope putting his skateboard in his backpack and you standing on the pegs of the bike as he rode the brand new thing home.

“That’s nice,” Lena nodded.

“Yea, I just want you to know that sometimes Daddy got mad because he cared, it wasn’t the best way for him to act, but adults make mistakes sometimes too.” You weren’t trying to excuse Baz’s behavior, but you also didn’t want this girl going her whole life remembering the shitty things about her father and that’s it. When she was older she’d get a better explanation of the whys and hows of her father but this was the best you could give her now.

“Okay,” She looked up at you. “What about Uncle Pope?”

“What about him?” You slowed your swings.

“What do you want me to know about Uncle Pope?” She asked and you couldn’t help but flare your nostrils and smile.

“I want you to know that Uncle Pope will always take care of us.” You didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Like he took care of you at the skatepark.” Lena didn’t phrase it as a question, just a statement.

“Yes,” you nodded.

“So both of my parents are dead?” The question came quickly and it hit you hard. You didn’t think how to respond first, your first thought was actually that Smurf had both of them killed and you felt that Blackwell anger bubble in you. You didn’t know if Smurf had Baz killed, but your intuition was telling you she did. You knew she had Cath killed, paid someone in her large pool of shitty contacts to do it. The more you thought about it, the more you actually didn’t care. Revenge wasn’t your thing, maybe if Lena wasn’t in the picture it would be, but getting even and proving a point couldn’t outweigh the responsibility of raising this little girl. She didn’t ask to be here, to be in this family. You owed it to her to show her a decent life. And a decent life didn’t include revenge.

“Yea, they are. I’m sorry, kid.” You looked at her, searching her face for anything.

“Where am I going to live?” Another question, this one you didn’t have an answer for.

“I’m not sure about where yet, but I’m going to talk with some grown up people so you can live with me at my place or maybe I’ll move into your dad’s place,” you said.

“I want to stay with you and Uncle Pope,” Lena’s voice got excited.

Those words brought you back to a time when Deran had voiced those same words to you. Baz was running a job, Smurf had asked Deran to go with him and he fought against it. Begged and begged to stay with you and Pope at the house. It made sense, you were in the process of making rice krispy treats, showing them a semblance of attention they craved from their own mother. You asked him about it later, when he got back from helping out Baz, and he said that you and Pope didn’t make things feel worse. You had to wonder if that’s how Lena felt.

“Alright, well, I’ll let Uncle Pope know that. I think we can arrange for him to stay over tonight,” you weren’t going to promise forever because well, that was something you were battling with for years. A forever with Pope.

Present Day - Baz’s Death - 8:34PM

Dinner was scattered all over the table, dishes, food scraps, empty glasses of soda. You were in the kitchen, Lena standing on the island, dancing to the music that was blasting through the TV. Your hands were on her waist, a safety precaution in case she stumbled, you’d be able to catch her. Her laughs filled you with a joy that was unexplainable. Lena had picked a fun playlist and currently Spice Up Your Life by the Spice Girls. The concert music video was on the TV and you were quick to grab Lena and bring her to stand on the couch, you standing in the spot next to her. “Alright Lena-love, I’m gonna introduce you to The Spice Girls, this is like the ultimate girl-power group and we’re gonna dance just like them in this video,okay?” You started moving on the couch and she copied you, swaying around, you stepped down and turned to her, grabbing her hands and showing her the dance moves, you’d seen the movie a million times, they were somehow embedded into your brain. Lena’s smile was as wide as it could go, her laughs were loud and as the beat dropped you picked her up. Slam it to the left, If you're havin' a good time, Shake it to the right. You moved her and dipped her in both directions and then twirled her around. Now it was your turn to laugh, you were almost out of breath when you placed her back on the couch and pointed her attention to the TV and moved to the kitchen to grab some water.

Pope’s eyes were on both of you until you moved, then they stayed on you. As you closed the fridge, and chugged half of a cold bottle of water, you looked at him and chuckled with a shake to your head.

“What?”

“I don’t think I’ve seen you have this much fun since we were kids,” he shrugged.

“I loved the Spice Girls,” you took another sip.

“Oh I know, you used to watch the movie when we were teenagers all the time,” his eyebrows raised.

“Movie?!” Lena turned around, moving her hands like the Spice Girls were.

You almost spit up your water but managed to keep it down. “We’ll watch it sometime soon, kid. Keep having fun.”

Plopping down on the chair next to Pope at the breakfast bar, you still felt his eyes on you, but you kept yours on Lena.

“Uncle Pope, come dance with me!” Lena called out as the song changed to ABBA.

“You can’t say no to her, you know you can’t,” you smirked.

While Pope got up, he didn’t do much but stand there and hold his hands out for Lena to use as a steadyment to jump up and down to, but you’d be lying if hearing Dancing Queen while Pope twirled Lena around wasn’t making your heart sing.

After a few more songs, Lena had eventually passed out in Pope’s arms, his swaying back and forth was enough to lull her into a sleep even with the music still being so loud.

You moved to the remote and lowered the volume, then rested your hand on the back of Lena, moving her long brown hair out of her face just to see how peaceful she was snoozing.

“I think we did a good job keeping her mind off things tonight,” you whispered.

Pope whispered back to you,“I’m gonna put her in her bed.”

You followed him, standing in the doorway you saw how gently he placed her in her bed, the way he moved her hair and tucked the blanket over her. As he turned around, he froze for a minute when he saw you watching. All you did was bring one finger up to your lips and let out a silent shush. He tip-toed towards you, closing the door behind him while you just scaled the frame so you were on the opposite side of it. He was next to you, maybe 6 inches from you, the music was still at a low hum in the background, the lights were dim, the ocean waves could be heard from the open windows now, the breeze coming in from the same place.

Pope gave you a nod. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know, I’ve kind of been avoiding thinking about anything.” You shrugged, your hands resting on the frame behind you.

“Do you want to think about it now?” Pope asked the question, his voice searching for an answer.

“I don’t think I ever want to think about it,” you let out a scoff that was mixed with a laugh. But even as you said that, you didn’t really mean it. You wanted answers, you just weren’t sure how. “I don’t want Lucy anywhere near this fucking house, that I could tell you.” Your voice changed, anger laced in every word.

“Lucy isn’t coming here,” Pope spoke so effortlessly.

“She isn’t getting custody of Lena,” you spat that out just as fast.

“She isn’t getting custody of Lena.” Pope repeated what you said to confirm it as well.

“She wants to live with you and me,” you let your voice soften, a smile growing at your lips.

“You and me?” Pope frowned.

“You and me.” You confirmed, looking up from the ground your eyes met his and you saw how confused he was. “She asked me where she was going to live and I told her I wasn’t sure, maybe my place, maybe I’d move here. But I was going to talk to the grown ups to make sure she’d stay with me, and I think her exact response to that was I want to stay with you and Uncle Pope.”

“I can stay here,” he shrugged like it was no big deal, “or your place if that’s where you want her,” he paused and caught your eyes, “if you’re okay with that.”

“I’m okay with that,” you nodded. It was not the time to read into emotions, it really wasn’t. But you were looking to cling to anything that wasn’t sad right now, anything that wasn’t a reminder of your dead brother. And this? Pope living with you? You raising Lena together? Your mind clung to that, so did your heart. You felt butterflies, butterflies. On the day of your brother's death, and here you were feeling happy.

If you want to play fucking house with Pope be my guest, but don’t do it with my kid.

Baz’s words echoed in your brain and you’d do anything to get them out.

That’s why you reached your hand out and let your finger run down Pope’s arm. Instinctively, you looked down at him, his body was closer to you than his face, even if he was standing there almost motionless. His chest was moving up and down, and despite your eyes trailing down him, he stayed on your face, your eyes.

You moved just an inch closer to him, your finger lightly brushing against the hem of his button up. His breath felt like a glass of water to your face, waking you up from everything. It gave you the edge you needed, instead of pulling away, you brought your hand up his forearm, brushing your fingers slightly up his exposed skin. His goosebumps gave you your own but you just used them as fuel to move closer to him, your chest against his now. He moved his head against yours and that’s when you felt his hands move up to grip your face. That was all the action you needed to move your lips to his.

This was different from the first time you kissed Pope. This was slow, intimate, sensual. The first time was instinctual, physical, no romantic tension to be found.

It’s why you were surprised your knees didn’t buckle right now, or maybe they did and he just held you up so strongly with his grip on you.

You had waited years for this. After that one night years ago, where he took you on the floor of your house’s bedroom, it was all you could think about. How amazing it was but how amazing it could have been if you both really let your guards down.

This would be the first time you’d both do it knowing what it meant for both of you.

You felt your entire body sing, the serotonin mixed with the adrenaline coursing through your veins made you get a little sloppy in how you guided his lips on yours, the dancing of your mouths became a bit more like a drunken makeout but you didn’t care. This was the closest to drunk you ever wanted to be ever again. Pope’s lips on yours and his hands gripping you like you belonged to him. Your hands went to his buttons, undoing a few of the bottom ones before trailing your hands up to the top ones and undoing a few of those. Your knuckles brushed against his adam's apple while you unbuttoned the top button. It sent a rush down your body and his. As you pulled away to gasp for air from the rush of it all, that’s when Pope shook his head and took a step back.

“No, we can’t do this.”

Then it all shattered.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered it so low you weren’t even sure if he heard you.

“Us, we— you’re Baz’s sister, you’re not—we’re not supposed to do this.” He was getting caught on his words, stuck in his thoughts that weren’t able to come out as a string of conscious words at the moment.

“We could have a normal life,” you whispered it again, you felt everything in you change. You weren’t able to pull any of this back in. The tension that had built up between you two for decades had been sliced wide open, everything was gushing, pooling at the ground, there was no more hiding anything. And because of that, you were going to say or do anything to get this, you’d beg, you’d let every fucking thought, every feeling, everything out in this moment.

“What’s normal?” Pope’s voice cracked.

“This!” You raised your voice now, not in a yell but in a plea of desperation. “Coming home, eating dinner, dancing in the fucking kitchen,putting Lena to bed, trying to stay quiet in the bedroom as you love me, sitting on the porch afterwards and watching the waves, driving for ice cream at 2AM, heating up milk on the stove if Lena wakes up, a normal fucking life, Pope.” You didn’t realize you had started to cry.

“Nothing is normal, my family is the farthest thing from normal, we are the farthest thing from normal.” Pope’s voice was cracking, his own cries clawing at his throat.

He had to be repeating some sentiment from Smurf, you saw how he looked at you, how he watched you, how he cared for you.

“Smurf never wanted us together because she knew I’d take you away. She knew she’d lose you to me. She made sure you saw Catherine and then that Catherine saw Baz. Every good thing that came into our lives that you gravitated towards..you craved it—craved it Pope. You longed for it. And Smurf took that and ruined it for you. Ruining every chance to leave this fucked up life behind you.” You stepped closer to him, grabbing his hand in yours. “But I’m here, with that little girl and we’re begging you, come start a good life with us.”

That must’ve done something because he just stood silent, his tears lightly falling, not sobbing just racking his brain around your words. His hands gripped around yours and you did the one thing you’d regret. You said it. It was the last card to play, although you weren’t playing a game at all, you were just hopeful that this would go how you’d always imagined it. He’d kiss you, he’d take you, he’d be yours. He’d say it back.

Wrong.

“I love you.”

“I can’t love you how you want me to.”

Everything stopped. Your ears did that thing, not a ringing, but just made everything silent around you. Desperation filled you. The despairing cry in your throat came out first, the sound of a broken heart, the sound of everything crumbling. Instead of taking it with stride, you did everything but drop to your knees in prayer.

“You already do!” You yelled, despite Lena sleeping in the room right next to you. “Do you not see it, Pope? You see me, you look for me in a room full of people, you know my favorite things, you stand up for me, you protect me, I don’t even say anything and you know what I’m thinking—what I’m feeling. For God sakes Pope, we’ve loved each other since we were kids!”

“How can you love me?” He was genuinely asking. Just when you thought your heart couldn’t break more, he hit you with that line and it shattered into a million pieces.

“I just do, it’s the easiest thing to me, it’s like breathing, I just do.” Your answer came just as easy as loving him was.

“Love isn’t easy.” He argued that point with you.

“Not in the way you think, the love you know is conditional. Based on performance, and loyalty, the love I have for you is unconditional, Pope. Always. No matter what. It always has been.” There it was, the plea, but you already knew how this ended. It’s how everything you loved ended. Your career, your brother, now Pope. You should’ve known better.

“Of all the things we have to be scared of and we choose love.” You laughed, almost in disbelief, taking a step back now, your hand dropping out of his.

“I can’t do this Pope,” you shook your head and wiped your tears. “Baz picked and chose when he wanted to be there and I can’t have someone else pick and choose. Not anymore. If you can’t realize what’s in front of you then I can’t do this, I can’t be in this fucking limbo anymore just waiting and hoping for you to touch me, to kiss me, to love me. If you won’t choose me then I choose me.”

“Don’t—don’t do that.” Pope’s mouth scrunched up, the frustration turning into anger.

“Do you remember the night before you got arrested for the bank robbery? I had walked to the skatepark and you were the only one there, we sat on the top of the ramp and talked for a bit,” You wiped the tears again, you weren’t sure why, they just kept coming. “I asked you why can’t we do what makes us happy.” You let out a laugh. “However many years later and I’m asking myself the same question.” You ran your hand over the crown of your head. “You should go,” you shook your head.

Pope said your name, his own pleading cry.

You didn’t say anything else, just turned to retreat to the back of the house. There was a part of you, the last part of you that was holding onto the hope that Pope would follow you, he’d stop talking and let his actions show you his words meant nothing. But there was nothing. Just silence. You let your back slide down the back door as you brought your legs up to your chest and sat on the floor, hand over your mouth to muffle your cries, your eyes squeezed shut like you could will yourself into a sleep and wake up from this entire nightmare of a day.

When you heard the front door open and close, you let the cry come out as audible. The crack in your throat as the final piece of you broke, you fell over on the ground, gripping your hand to your chest as the sobs released. It was a mix of everything.

The loss of Pope. Everything you kept to yourself in fear of rejection, in fear of losing him now all out in the open with the one result you dreaded. While you spent years keeping everything at bay, the possibility was always there. It’s what made everything bearable. It was a possibility. But now you grieved that possibility. The idea of you sharing a home, having a life. You got a taste of it tonight, maybe that’s why it hurt this bad, like someone stuck their hand in your chest and twisted your heart before pulling it out and stepping on it.

You sobbed on the floor, the cries aching in your body didn’t make you feel numb like you wished they did, they just made you feel everything. You wailed, it wasn’t loud, it was almost silent if anything. There couldn’t be a place lower than this.

Dockie.

You felt like you heard your brother. Your cries paused, your eyes opening and before you could think, you were standing up, moving through the house, using the walls and door frames as balance, your head spun from sobbing on the floor and getting up so fast.

“Baz?!” Your swollen eyes searched for him, your tone hopeful like you knew he’d be there.

As you stood in the empty living room, the grief punched you in the gut. There was no response, no answer to your cry. Just you.

The loss of your brother. There was no fixing your relationship, no closure, no last words. You’d never hear him call you Dockie again. The thing you hated since you were a kid, suddenly you held an ache in your soul for it. He’d never place a peck on the side of your face again, or remind you of something you tried so desperately to forget. He’d never yell at you, never argue with you, never make you feel small. Everything you couldn’t stand, and yet here you were missing it. Wishing for one last moment to experience it. Then there were the good things, when you’d laugh. He’d just catch your gaze from across the room and you’d burst into laughter over some inside joke–sibling same brain thought. When you’d finish a job and he’d jump on your back like he was a kid and scream like a maniac. The times he’d whisper to Lena to go tell you that you were her favorite Aunt.

It was sudden, like a flip of a switch, you stopped crying. Your face went neutral, this time when you wiped your face it was the last of the tears you’d wipe away. Quickly, you moved to the bathroom, tossed water on your face and pulled your phone out of your back pocket. Suddenly, with a dial, you called the last person you thought you’d call tonight.

“Hey, do you wanna come over?”

2009 - Moving In

When you bought your house, you didn’t hire movers, you bamboozled your brother and the Cody boys to do all the heavy lifting. You didn’t even pack much from Smurf’s. You bought all new stuff, a new bed, a new dresser, a couch, but they were the ones building and moving things where you wanted. It had been a long day. At this point, Craig had broken a lamp, thrown a wrench out of frustration as he built your coffee table, and was now sitting on stool, eating the pizza you bought. Deran had unpacked about 15 boxes for you, asked you why you had certain things almost double that amount of times, and was currently walking in from grabbing a 24 pack of beer for your fridge. Baz had been the least helpful, he had brought in a few boxes, made some judgement slights as he walked through the place and then just leaned against one of your walls as kept a watchful eye. Currently, he was probably back at his place, far away from the unpacked mess of this house. Pope, well Pope was redoing the furniture Craig built and getting a jump start on other ones. He kept to himself, organizing things and just being a huge help. While you were in the kitchen with Craig and now Deran, Pope was still working, putting things together.

“Doc, beer is the first thing you buy when you buy a house, it’s a luck thing, c’mon.” Deran lifted the case and pushed it into the bottom rack of the fridge.

“24-pack?” You raised your eyebrows.

“That’s enough for me and Deran, what will you drink?” Craig laughed, his hand wrapped around the slice of pizza.

“I got her that boxed wine shit,” Deran laughed, his other hand showing the small box of red wine.

“The place looks good,” Craig was looking around the house. “I just don’t get why you don’t wanna paint the outside, the turquoise is a choice.”

“I didn’t realize you were an interior decorator,” you moved to grab a beer from the case Deran just bought, one for you and one for Craig since Deran had already grabbed for himself.

“I’m not,” he let out a laugh, “exterior,” he thought the joke was hilarious since he had been referring to the outside of your house.

“I think the teal’s got charm, it’s very Doc.” Deran jumped up on the counter while you moved to continue to unpack the kitchen boxes.

“Pope!” You yelled out to him, “Come eat!” Turning back to the other Cody’s you shook your head. “The exterior paint stays, you two go.”

“Hey!” Craig lifted his hands up while Deran just laughed.

“I love you both, thank you for helping me, finish eating, take beers with you to go and I’ll see you here tomorrow, I’m tired, after Pope eats I’m going to bed.” You explained why you were kicking them out.

Pope didn’t come out by the time Deran and Craig left, it's why you found yourself arm crossed and leaning against the doorway. “I see that your hands work but your ears don’t.”

“I wanted to finish putting your bed together so you had a place to sleep tonight,” he didn’t bother looking up from what he was doing. Tossing the mattress onto the bed frame he built, putting the sheets on for you.

“I can make a bed, Pope.” You smiled and he paused to look at you.

“You’re tired,” he saw the droop in your eyes immediately.

“I am, but that’s not why I’m telling you to stop, I want you to eat something, you’ve been non stop all day,” you were already out of the doorway and moving to the kitchen. You came back with the box of pizza, two beers and a roll of paper towels. “Eat.”

You both sat crisscrossed on the floor, the pizza box open and now practically empty, the box wine had made its way in the room too, you were about 5 glasses in at this point, Pope had his empty beer glasses lined up next to him in an orderly line.

“It’s a nice house,” Pope wasn’t looking around when he said it, just directly at you.

“I hope to make it a home,” you pulled your legs up.

“You will.” Pope nodded.

“You just saying that?” You were looking around the room.

“I don’t just say anything,” Pope said. “You always made your space feel…welcome,” he nodded as he searched for the word.

“You saying that means more to me than you realize,” you finished the cup of wine.

He nodded again, this time slow. “I realize.”

There was a comfort in the air, the kind that only came from being in a space with someone that didn’t call for anything. There was no need to entertain, fill the silences, or be anything other than yourselves. You placed your cup down and then laid your back against the floor, your eyes staring up at the ceiling.

“Do you remember that place Baz moved into when Smurf kicked him out of the place on The Strand?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory.

“The one that had the pipe that would leak on the couch.” Pope remembered it well. “I used to crash there when I’d fight with Smurf.”

“I remember, because we’d share that nasty ass couch. You’d take the side that would drip.” You turned your head and realized he was now laying down next to you, your feet were in the opposite direction, but your heads were next to each other.

“You said it had character,” Pope turned his head to look back at you.

“I lied.” Your nostrils flared and you laughed. “Baz was one negative thought from jumping off a ledge, I had to keep him grounded.”

“You keep all of us grounded.” Pope still kept his eyes on you.

“Everyone but me,” you let out a soft exhale, your eyes training up to the ceiling.

Pope didn’t say anything, but you felt the shift in the air, or maybe it was just in your head. You felt the heat in your face from the wine, the long day, the high of the fact you were finally out of Smurf’s.

Turning your head back down from the ceiling and to Pope, you realized he hadn’t stopped looking at you.

“You’re staring.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied. “I should go,” he didn’t move when he said those words. “Call me if you need me to come over.”

You pulled your phone out of your pocket, you had a bunch of notifications from the hospital you worked at, but it was your week off so you ignored them. All you did was go to your contacts and hit Pope’s name and brought the phone to your ear.

Pope frowned as his phone vibrated in his pocket, he answered it and brought it up to his ear, both of you still looking at each other.

“Hey, do you wanna come over?”

The joke landed, his smirk twitched up before he hung up.

“It’s good to see you like this,” Pope nodded.

“Like what?”

“Happy,” he responded.

“You want to see me happier?” You let the wine talk with that line.

Pope didn’t say anything, just nodded. It was then that you leaned closer, you brought your lips on his. It was a quick peck at first, but when he leaned more into it you felt yourself let down every physical guard you had built up. You grabbed his shirt, bringing him closer to you, tossing your leg over his before you were on top of him, grinding your body onto his. He gripped your legs, moving you against him, his mouth opening as he gasped slightly.

He sat up, bringing you up with him, his arms moving around your torso, pulling your shirt off as he did. You eagerly undid his pants just enough so that you could hold him in your hand, he pulled your shorts to the side and within seconds he was inside you. Both of you inhaling at the sensation. Your head fell back and you moaned in pleasure. He pumped in and out of you, his eyes never leaving you as he did.

“Look at me,” he demanded in such a soft voice.

Your eyes connected with his and it was like the feeling of him in you got ten times more sensitive. You felt a lump in the back of your throat, the emotion of years of pining coming to you right now. This wasn’t romantic, you couldn’t afford it to be. It was instinctual, it was safe.

He pressed his mouth against your chest, his eyes still connected with yours.

“Fuck,” you mumbled again and let your head fall back despite wanting to get lost in his eyes.

As your head fell back, he moved to be on top of you, resting you gently against the floor of your room so he could pump into you. His arms were toned and your eyes caught the flex and release of his muscles as he gripped you and steadied himself on the floor. Your legs wrapped around him and your breath hitched with every movement in you.

“Do I feel good?” you asked him because you knew his response would send you over the edge.

“You know how good you fucking feel,” he spoke through gritted teeth. “You feel amazing.”

“Oh my god,” you closed your eyes and felt yourself hit your climax, each movement sending you a little further over the edge than before. “Keep going,” you felt yourself coming undone, your voice thready and messy.

Your screams echoed against the empty walls of your apartment, along with you begging for Pope not to stop.

“Flip over,” he mumbled into your ear and you obliged without any hesitation or fight, he brought your hips in his hands and continued to bring you back against him, one hand moving down your front to catch your clit in his hand.

“If you do that, I’m gonna cum again,” your voice was still breathy.

“Good,” he said it without any emotion, not like he was proud, not like he was needy, just content with the idea of it.

As he thrusted in you you felt the release again, Pope pumping you through it. As your body went a little loose, he carefully exited you and let you lay on your back.

“What are you doing?” You asked, sitting up on your elbows.

“You’re tired,” he looked like he was going to get dressed.

“You didn’t finish,” your brows furrowed. This had never happened to you before.

“But you did, twice.” Even though he didn’t say it like he was proud, you could tell he was.

“Cum in me,” you didn’t want this to get emotional, but you didn’t want this to end yet. “I get the shot, I can’t get pregnant.”

“Are you–” Pope went to ask, not about you getting pregnant but about keeping this up.

“Yes, you feel good too, you know.”

And with that, he reentered you and his hand gripped your neck to bring you down completely on him. He moved so deliberate and calculated, like he knew each spot he hit inside you in the order he did would unlock another climax out of you. You felt dizzy, your head was spinning in the best way possible, you never wanted this to end, but you couldn’t say that, wouldn’t say that. So you just enjoyed every second of him in you.

“Three times,” you whispered it since you felt the moan in the back of your throat.

“Look at me,” his voice was low too, and you realized you were both about to release.

He held you after, your head was against his chest and in all honestly you ached for this. Which is why you pulled your head up after a few minutes, any longer and you wouldn’t have been able to separate this from romance anymore.

“We didn’t even test the bed you built,” you joked as you sat on your knees to collect your clothes.

Pope didn’t say anything, just watched you.

“Well I guess that was bound to happen, right?” You let the joke fall off your tongue as you grabbed your shirt.

“Guess so,” Pope’s jaw tensed.

“Not gonna be weird right?” You were trying to keep this together, make sure there were no fraying edges or fallout from this.

“I’m not weird,” Pope looked at you now.

That got you to chuckle. “You are, but I know you won’t be about this.”

He twitched his mouth too.

“I was serious before, call me if you need someone to come over. I know how lonely living alone can be.” Pope was fully dressed now. He didn’t mean for sex, he meant genuinely for company. You knew that without needing him to clarify.

“Same goes for you. You can call me if you need to get out of the house, I know how lonely living in a house full of people can be.” You stood up and walked Pope to your front door.

There were no more words exchanged between you, he just occasionally looked over his shoulder at you as he walked down your driveway, jacket in hand, swagger in his step.

As you closed the door, you leaned against it and let yourself slide down so you were sitting on the ground, knees to your chest and hands in your scalp.

You couldn’t let that happen again. Not unless it was for real. For good.

Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 1:34AM

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” Travis’ voice was smug, almost grossly.

He was pulling his shirt back on his body as he stepped out of the shower while you continued to wash yourself off from the ick, washing your hair and your body.

When he came over, you didn’t let him talk, you grabbed him into the shower that sat outdoors, it was still private, fully walled and closed in from wandering eyes outside, but it was a surfer’s shower, the place you went to clean off from the beach. It didn’t feel right to bring him in the house. It didn’t feel right to have him here at all, but you needed to do something to feel anything but the grief in you.

You didn’t let him look at you, he stood behind you the whole time, you told him to shut the fuck up a few times too. It wasn’t worth it. That thought went through your brain as it was happening but you did make the most of it.

“Told you it’s better not to be alone,” He was drying his hair off while you rinsed the shampoo and soap off your body.

“You should go,” they were the same words you spoke to Pope, that wasn’t lost on you, but as you grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your body, you had no other desire right now than to be alone.

Nothing made sense anymore. And you weren’t in the mood to deal with it.

You walked into the house, Travis behind you still. As you walked into Baz’s room, you realized you had no clothes here. With a sigh, you opened his dresser, grabbed a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt, it was a UCSD one that you bought him when you went to school. Tossing both on, you looked at Travis who was watching you from the bed.

“Travis I’m serious, you should go, I have Lena tonight and I have to take her to school in the morning and I don’t really have it in me to explain anything else to her right now,” you moved to the kitchen and poured yourself a cup of water from the faucet.

“I can sleep on the couch, you shouldn’t be alone, I mean your brother was shot here probably like this time last night,” he followed you and those words haunted you as he stood behind you.

The slam of the faucet wasn't enough of a context clue for him. So when you turned around, eyes closed, you took a large gulp from the cup and nodded. “Leave through the back door, the front door will wake Lena.” You moved to her bedroom, the one place you knew he wouldn’t follow you. As you shut the door, you stood at the opposite side of the sticker covered door and looked down at your niece who was sound asleep. At first you just squatted down and watched her, occasionally sipping from your water glass. After about an hour, where you successfully thought of nothing but her peaceful snores, you decided to crawl in the bed with her, you didn’t dare try to cuddle with her, afraid it’d wake her up, but being there with her, felt like the only thing you ever needed again. And from how tonight went, it was safe to say it was probably the only good thing you’d ever have again.

2010 - The Day Lena Was Born

Pacing in the hospital was not how you expected this night to go. You were in a dress, the only one you really owned at this point of your life. It was the one you wore to graduation, the one you wore for your residency interview at the hospital, and now it was the one you wore at your brother’s wedding. And apparently his daughter’s birth, too.

The courthouse was packed with people, apparently it was the day for weddings, there had to be about 20 other couples in the municipal building along with Catherine and Baz. And that wasn’t including their witnesses which was almost double that number. Pope was next to you, his leg bouncing up and down a bit as he sat straight up on the wooden bench. Both of you were the witnesses for Baz and Cath, he had on a button up shirt, black jeans, his hands resting on his knees. You placed your hand on his.

“What’s going on in your head?”

“I’ve never been to a wedding before.” Pope stopped moving his leg.

“Me either,” you thought about it.

“What do we do?” Pope asked.

“This is a pretty straightforward wedding, I think we just sit and watch them, maybe sign something.” You looked around, seeing multiple couples get ushered in at once.

“I think we get brought in with a group, we’ll probably be able to see what we need to do,” you pointed to the next group being brought in.

“Alright,” he nodded.

“It’s kind of nice, celebrating love.” You looked at the other couples around, all happy, close together, laughing and cuddling.

“It doesn’t feel like us,” Pope was taking in the couples now. The wide smiles, the connecting arms, the heads resting on shoulders.

“What doesn’t?”

“All of it, the flowers, the pressed clothes, the happiness…” Pope trailed off, almost disgusted as he looked around.

“You iron your clothes,” you pushed your lips in a straight line, you knew what Pope meant, but you couldn’t help but tease him. Sometimes you felt like you were the only one he let get away with it.

“You know what I mean,” Pope didn’t look at you but nodded his head as he slightly turned it at you.

Leaning back against the wooden bench along the back wall of the courthouse, your eyes fell on the back of Pope.

“You don’t believe in it? Marriage?” You asked.

“It’s nice,” the way he said it was like he was convincing himself of the words he was saying. “For other people.”

“But not for you?” You didn’t mean to hammer him with questions, you were just curious what was going on in his brain.

Pope didn’t answer, his eyes just fell down to your hands that were fidgeting in your lap. He rarely saw you dressed like this, he rarely saw you fidget either.

“I believe in it for other people, too.” You spoke as you looked down at your hands. “But for people like us, it’s just out of place. But the notion is nice right? A partner who chooses you day in and day out, sees your flaws and still loves you, someone to go through life with.”

“Sure, it’s a nice notion.” Pope agreed.

“All we have are moments. Happiness… people say it’s a state of mind but in reality it’s just little moments in time that we pocket for later. For when we’re sad.” You knew it sounded crazy.

Pope looked over at Baz and Cath, they were standing at the registrar’s desk, Baz had just leaned over and whispered in her ear, saying something that made her laugh.

It was then that they called your group number, a few other people stood up too. Baz and Cath had already moved to the door, Pope stood up and straightened his collar and pressed down his shirt. You followed his movements and pressed the skirt of your dress down as you stood.

“You ready?” You moved your arm to him so he could link his with yours.

“For the wedding?” He placed his arm in a way so you had to link yours to his.

“For the moment,” you whispered and playful brought him over to the line.

The wedding was quick, but as you pulled up to the restaurant that they were holding their reception dinner at, Cath’s water broke before she even made it 5 steps in the parking lot.

That’s how you ended up pacing in the hospital now.

“You should sit down,” Pope was clearly anxious.

You plopped down next to him, your breath exhaling dramatically.

“I don’t like hospitals,” you said it through frustrated breath.

That got Pope to look at you with a twisted face.

“I don’t like waiting in hospitals, working them is different, I’m in control,” you explained, your leg shaking.

“You want a coffee or something?” He thought of different ways to give you something to do.

That earned him the same face he had recently made to you.

“Decaf,” he corrected himself.

“No, I’m fine. I just need to wait.” You sighed again.

In a little over 15 minutes, you rested your head on Pope’s shoulder, your arms linked in his and your snores quietly brushed against his collar bones over his shirt. He didn’t move, he stayed frozen so as to not wake you up, but he’d occasionally try and sneak a glance at you. If not directly down at you then at the reflection in the glass window in front of him.

It reminded him of all the couples he’d seen at the courthouse not that long ago. The ones that were happy. That didn’t feel like you guys. But suddenly held a pretty close resemblance to you.

He stayed that way for 2 hours until Baz came out in the blue gown and gloves. “It’s a girl,” he whispered so he didn’t wake you up. “Do you want to meet her?” Baz asked Pope. His eyes immediately fluttered to you.

“Yea, let me wake her up and we’ll meet you down in the nursery,” Pope nodded and tapped Baz’s side.

“Hey,” Pope whispered to you. “Hey, hey,” a couple more times along with a shake and you were waking up. “It’s a girl, Baz said we can go meet her.”

“A girl? Oh good, we need a girl.” You spoke through a raspy voice.

“We need a girl?” Pope questioned your words.

“We always need a girl, we’re outnumbered by you Cody boys.” You smiled, and brought Pope up with your arm still interlocked with his.

You walked that way with him until you got to the nursery. Baz had a baby girl in his arms and you could have cried at the sight of it. “And this Lena, is your Auntie Dockie and your Uncle Pope,” Baz lifted his arm up so that the baby was easier for you to see.

“Oh my gosh, she’s so beautiful,” you couldn’t take your eyes off her. “How’s Cath?”

“She’s good, she’s tired,” Baz kept his eyes on Lena. “You wanna hold her?” Baz looked at you.

All you did was nod, as he placed her in your arms, you felt your entire body shift. Those moments you mentioned earlier? The ones of happiness that you hold onto forever, this would be one of those moments for you.

“Lena-love,” you cooed, today was a day that started out celebrating love and it only felt right to commemorate it with the love of someone that would bring you joy forever. “She’s perfect,” your voice cracked.

Pope couldn’t take his eyes off you, if he thought seeing those couples earlier panged in his heart, this was even stronger. Seeing you hold a baby, a baby that you so clearly loved, that he so clearly loved and he only knew her for a few seconds.

“You’re going to be so loved,” you cooed again.

Baz had moved to sit down in the chair in the nursery, his eyes heavy as he watched his baby sister hold his baby. Pope stood close to you, looking over your shoulder at Lena.

The baby bubbled her mouth, her saliva dripping from her mouth made you smile. “This is the moment, Pope.” You spoke slowly to him while keeping your eyes on Lena. “This is the moment we pocket.”

Pope nodded, even though you didn’t see it. In his head, though, he already pocketed a lot of moments from today. This was just the cherry on top.

Lena felt like the only thing you ever needed. The only thing either of you ever needed.

Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 6:03AM

Pope didn’t bother knocking, he used his key to let himself in through Baz’s front door. It was still early, he wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake, that’s why he brought breakfast and coffee, knowing there probably wasn’t anything of note in Baz’s fridge.

To his surprise, that fridge was currently being raided by who he immediately could tell was a cop. It didn’t take long for it to click in his head that it was Travis Callahan.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh shit, hey Pope.” The man turned around startled. “Didn’t they tell you to never scare a cop,” he laughed as he placed the orange juice down on the table, opening the carton and not bothering to get a glass just sipping direct from the open spout.

Pope didn’t laugh, just glared in disgust. “No.”

“Oh nice, you brought breakfast,” Travis pointed to the brown bag in Pope’s hand.

“For Doc and Lena.” Pope clarified.

“Oh yea, I think they’re still asleep,” Travis pointed to Lena’s room.

“You slept here?” The question fired off rapidly from Pope.

“On the couch, I don’t think she wanted to be alone,” the man had turned to grab one of the boxes of cereal on the counter.

“The couch?” Pope didn’t understand.

“Yea, I think Doc’s in Lena’s room. Haven’t checked. But I didn’t check the bedroom either.” Travis wasn’t looking at Pope anymore.

Pope didn’t give this conversation any more attention, he just walked down the hall to the back bedroom where he saw the bed was untouched, still made and unslept in. As he turned around he saw the discarded clothes that trailed from the bathroom to the outdoor shower and that told him all he needed to know. With a few more steps, he was in Lena’s room. Immediately seeing her body cuddled into yours as both of you let out heavy breaths that were bordering snores.

He stared at you for a few minutes, wishing that he could have just lived in that moment forever, nothing else. No memories of before and no idea of memories to come, just both you and Lena at peace.

But he knew it couldn’t last, he leaned over and placed his hand on your shoulder to shake you awake. You startled, grabbing his forearm harshly, ready to fight, but when you weren’t met with force, you loosened your grip.

“Scared the hell out of me.” You groggily cleaned your eyes and carefully climbed over Lena. Pope recognized your clothes, he hated to admit a slight feeling of relief that they didn’t belong to the asshole in the kitchen. It made whatever happened between you and the cop feel calculated and not special. “What are you doing here?”

“I brought breakfast,” Pope responded.

“I’m gonna let her sleep in a little bit, I don’t think she should go to school today, maybe in a couple days.” You were pointing towards her other door, the one littered in stickers that would open into the living room and kitchen versus the hallway. Pope walked out first, his eyes connecting with Officer Dickhead again as he waited for you to realize.

“Um, look about last night,” you started to say when you heard Travis’s voice clear.

“Yea about it,” he had the orange juice carton gripped in his hand again.

Your head shot over to him. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I didn’t think you should be alone, who knows who killed your brother, and if they’d come back here and try and take you or Lena out next.” It was so disturbing how he’d just blurt things out without thought.

“Travis, I told you to leave last night.” You didn’t care about his reasoning for being here.

“Relax, I slept on the couch, I recorded Dexter’s Lab this morning too while I was watching it, for Lena.” He pointed to the TV.

“You hear that? He recorded a cartoon for her.” Pope was getting some twisted form of enjoyment out of this.

“Travis, get out.” You moved toward him now, grabbing the orange juice for him forcefully.

“Hey come on, I had fun last night, don’t be like this.” He lifted his arms up.

“Travis, leave.” You threw the carton into the sink, your way of trying to prove you weren’t in the mood for his grovelling.

“Come on, Dockie.” He pleased.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” It took everything in you not to punch his smug face. “Look, let’s not make this more than what it is, please just leave.” You took a breath trying to remain as calm as you could.

Pope just stood there watching, waiting for it to escalate so he could intervene but knowing based on the three of yours conversation yesterday he would let you give him the okay to step in.

“Alright, I’ll call you later.” Travis was leaving and while you wanted to tell him not to bother, you were ultimately winning since he was leaving.

As you locked the door behind him, you turned back to the kitchen and started straightening up. Tossing the dry cereal Officer Asshole poured into the garbage, along with the orange juice. Wiping down the counters, organizing the area.

“What are you doing here?” You asked Pope as you moved around the kitchen.

“You told me that Lena wanted to stay with both of us,” Pope answered. The sentence didn’t have a lot of context. But it clicked in your head he was trying to keep the appearance that he stayed over for Lena.

“We should talk about how we’re going to do this, after last night I don’t know if you sleeping here or my place makes sense. I don’t want to confuse her,” that wasn’t what you meant, you didn’t want to confuse you.

“Yea, we can figure it out.” Pope nodded, being entirely too gracious about everything right now.

“I’ve run out of ways to fix this, Pope.” You slammed your hands on the tiled breakfast bar.

“Fix what? What is there to fix?” Pope questioned.

“Us!” Your voice hitched.

“What about us?” Pope stepped closer, the counter between both of you. His question was probably misunderstood by you but the fact he couldn’t pick up on the fact that yours and his relationship just completely altered last night did something to your feelings.

“You know what, just forget it.” You changed your tone and shook your head.

“Forget what?” Another question you probably misunderstood but this one you couldn’t hide your reaction.

“Jesus Christ, the questions, the questions!” You raised your hands. “Forget everything! Forget everything that happened we’ll just go back to whatever the fuck it was before this. You stare, I say nothing. Forget I said anything.” You gave him the answer you thought he wanted.

“You said you loved me.” Pope didn’t change his tone.

“What do you want?” Your voice practically shrieked. “You say you can’t love me the way I want, and now you can’t forget what I said, fine then here hold this line, I thought I loved you but I don’t. I don’t love you. I hate you. I hate what you fucking do to me. I hate what you make me feel because it's pointless. It's useless. It’s for nothing. And it’s not even your fault, this was my fate from the beginning. Baz wasn’t supposed to make it through Ray’s beatings. He was supposed to die a lot earlier, I was always meant to be alone. This—this is just fate catching up to me. Loneliness is seeped into my fucking DNA, it’s imprinted into my genetic fucking code. I’ll raise Lena and she’ll come drop off boxed fucking wine for me and cat food while I sit on a fucking couch too drunk off my ass to care. Baz gets death while I get to have everything in me die inside while I’m still alive.”

The words echoed in you, Pope’s eyes gave nothing away as to what he was thinking. You stood there, staring at him. Both of you staying silent, and yet it got too loud for you. You didn’t bother staying in the kitchen, you barreled past him and plopped down on the steps on the front porch. As you did, you were reminded of the last time you talked to your brother.

2017 - 2 Days Before Baz’s Death

Sometimes, sitting alone at your place got loud in a really quiet way. It’d make you open the windows, fill the nothingness with something. White noise, the sounds of people laughing outside as they walked by, the waves, maybe a dog barking or a kid laughing. Anything but silence. Sometimes that wasn’t enough, you’d sit on your back porch, which arguably made it worse. It was fully fenced, you couldn’t see anyone, couldn’t hear much either. Something so many people would kill for and the irony was that it was killing you. That’d leave you to talk a walk along The Strand. You’d bring a pack of cigarettes, maybe a glass of wine if you knew you’d be out for a while. Tonight, the walk was long, you ended up walking down to Baz’s. You weren’t sure if the looks you got as you strolled were because your face was beaten to shit, bruised and battered but healing from getting attacked by Javi and his crew a little over a week ago, or because you had a full glass of wine in your hand. The thing with recovering from the injuries you had, it started to look a lot worse before it looked better. Hence the alcohol.

Baz’s front porch was arguably one of your favorite places. It had everything. The noise, the people, the waves. You plopped down on the steps, glass now pretty empty as you did. You mindlessly played with the strings of your hoodie as you watched it all, picking up pieces of conversations of the people that passed.

Someone talking about their weekend dinner plans, a group of girls talking about one of their exes, another group singing a song together, a group of guys betting on some sports thing on their phone.

You heard the door open behind you but didn’t bother looking, you knew it’d be someone familiar.

As you felt someone sit down next to you, you then heard the sound of your wine glass being filled. Looking up, Baz had plopped down next to you, the UCSD hoodie you gave him on and a glass of red wine tipped as he poured the remainder of it into your glass. Following that, he brought his beer towards the rim of your glass and clinked them together.

At the sound you both pulled away and brought the glasses up to sip from.

The two of you sat there, people watching.

Some conversations were tough, a woman on the phone with her sister talking about hospice care for their mother, a couple who had been arguing about something a lot bigger than both of them, two young siblings calling each other stupid. But then there were the others, the parents who pulled those same siblings apart and made them apologize immediately. The siblings were skipping down the sidewalk in seconds like nothing happened. Then there was the couple who had just gotten engaged, an older gentleman who was linked arm and arm with someone close to his age and said he had a really good first date with her.

“You ever think about what life should’ve been?” Baz’s voice cut through all of it.

You didn’t answer right away, you thought about his question for a bit.

“I do,” you nodded, taking a sip of the wine. “Do you?”

“Never used to, I think I was so used to just trying to survive the day.” He let out a sigh.

“But now?” Your eyes jumped over to him.

“I think life should’ve been a lot different.” He smirked.

“I think if life had it’s way we’d be rotting in a double wide right now,” you scoffed.

“I should’ve gotten us out earlier.” Baz had never been this sentimental before and it made you weary.

“Why are you saying this?” The frown on your face mixed with you straightening your back was enough to show Baz you were concerned.

“Relax, I’m not jumping off any buildings,” he let out a chuckle. “I just mean, I should have found a different way for us, bringing us to Smurf’s, it was the worst thing I could have done.”

“We were kids Baz, anything was better than getting beaten to pulp,” you tried to brush him off.

“She’s been keeping money from us,” Baz admitted.

“From you,” you corrected him. “I get my percentage and keep it pushing.” It was true, maybe that was the only benefit of your deal with Smurf, you didn’t feel like there was anything being hidden, you had a deal that worked and stuck with it.

“I’m leaving for Mexico, with Lena and Lucy.” There was the real thing he had been trying to get at this whole time.

“To see what some of that should’ve been life has for you?” You let your eyes train back on the horizon.

“Something like that,” he shrugged, finishing his beer now. “I’m sorry about the hospital job.”

Those were words that you never expected to hear from your brother, so when your head snapped to see if he was just being a dick, your eyes went wide to be met with a beyond serious Baz.

His eyes were already on you when he spoke the apology, they were low, almost disappointed in himself.

“Smurf wanted to bring you in, but I told her no, that I didn’t want to fuck up what you had. I wasn’t supposed to use your badge. I was in the breakroom, I was talking to that nurse that always talks about her parakeets and thought I was grabbing her badge but I guess you left your jacket in there.”

“I gave her my sweatshirt that morning and didn’t realize I didn’t take off my ID, I was charting for the rest of the day so I never noticed,” you gave him context.

“By the time I realized it was yours, it was too late,” Baz was still looking at you. “I didn’t mean to fuck up your should’ve been.”

You felt your throat get tense, your eyes got heavy as well. “My should’ve been was always fucked.”

“Come to Mexico with us,” Baz asked like he had been waiting for the right time for the opportunity to ask you to come up.

With a deep sigh, a little laugh as well, you looked back at the horizon. “I—I don’t know.”

“You could get your license down there, I looked it up. Lena would be happy to have you close. You could meet someone, get married, have a kid,” he shrugged.

“You got it all figured out, huh?” You held back a smile as you looked back at him. It was incredibly nice that he looked into it, that he thought about you. But there was a lot holding you back from that too. Well, maybe not a lot. But one thing that you held onto, that always felt like a possibility.

“Maybe Pope would move down after he’s off probation,” Baz could read your mind sometimes.

“I don’t know if Pope is apart of my should’ve been,” you answered.

Baz let out a light laugh. “Pope is the biggest should’ve been in your life next to being a doctor.”

You just gave him a look.

“You and him are written in the stars. He doesn’t just watch you, Dockie. He looks for you. When you walk into a room I feel like I can hear his heart practically jump through his skin.” Baz was now looking out at the horizon. “And you well, you’ve pined after him for years.”

You stayed silent, not really sure what to say to that.

“You two are so different and yet so fucking similar.” He laughed. “If you don’t want to come to Mexico, I get it. But either way, you should leave. Go do something for you for once.”

You handed him your now empty wine glass and stood up, pulling the hood of your sweatshirt up over your head. “Thanks for the wine.”

“Anytime.” He stayed sitting on the stairs.

You leaned down, placing a quick peck on his temple, it was usually what he did to you, and the action made him audibly laugh.

Turning, you skipped down the steps, opened the gate and took a few steps down the sidewalk before turning around and looking at him.

“I’ll think about Mexico,” you nodded. “I just need some time to think about my should’ve been.”

Baz nodded.

“And thanks, for the apology,” you waved your hand awkwardly.

“Love you, Dockie.” Baz was standing up to go back inside his house.

Nodding, you continued to take a few steps, this time backwards. “Love you too, big brother.”

That was the last conversation you had with Baz. He was shot two days later.

Present Day - The Day After Baz’s Death - 6:45AM

It got too loud inside and all you and Pope were doing was staring at each other for minutes. But the windows had been closed, the sliding door was latched and locked, most of the curtains were pulled down too, and those caught a lot of the noise pollution too. It was so silent that your head felt like it was in the middle of a 500 person crowd. Without a second thought, you made a run for the front door. Plopping down on the steps of the porch, you ran your hands over your face. Every thought, every mocking voice you had on repeat in your head suddenly disappeared. The waves filled the background, it was morning so The Strand was busy. There were surfers talking about their morning waves. Kids with backpacks making their way to school, you were able to pick up a few pieces of gossip. Hailey was sleeping with Mike, Ben had gotten a decent weed plug. There was the neighbor who talked to her daffodils. All of it brought you a comfort that you had been craving.

You heard the footsteps before hearing the door. You knew his steps better than anyones. He was next to you in a matter of seconds, a lukewarm cup of coffee in his hand that he was handing over as he sat down next to you.

“You ever think about what life should’ve been?” The question rolled off your tongue before you even took a sip.

Pope didn’t answer.

“I do. Well, I have been. Lately.” You answered it in hopes Pope would eventually give you his answer.

“I used to imagine what life could’ve been like for us. To help me sleep.” Pope was looking down at his hands.

“For you and Julia?” You lifted your head to look over at him.

“For me and Julia, for you and Baz, for Deran and Craig, for you and me,” Pope answered.

“Could’ve and should’ve are different.” You were trying to make a point.

“Yeah,” he let that one word hang in the air a bit before continuing, “they’re different.” He rubbed the back of his knuckles like he was trying to erase something only he could see.

You waited for more, knowing it was highly unlikely he’d give that to you. But to your shock, he looked up from his hands, not exactly at you, but past you. Like he was watching the past crawl back onto this porch with you.

“But it should’ve been different.”

“It can be different.” There you were again. Pleading with him. While he was dredging up the past you were pulling for your future.

“If there’s a version of our lives where we got away from this, from Smurf… I don’t think I ever made it there. Not even in my head.” Pope’s eyes were filled with tears and suddenly you got it.

He was punishing himself.

You were collateral damage in that. Or maybe, you made yourself collateral damage.

“In my head, our should’ve been exists. It’s here, in front of us–a reality now. A real possibility. And when you’re ready I’ll be here,” your waterline pooled with water, tears didn’t fall but they were close to it.

Pope kept quiet, the silence stretching between you two. It was weighted, similar to the tension that built between you both for years, except that was weighted in what could’ve been. This? This was weighted in what should’ve been.

Your words hurt more than they healed. He nodded almost subtly, like he wasn’t agreeing or disagreeing with you, just acknowledging that he heard you. Then, he stood up, his body casting a shadow over you, he moved quickly, like he knew it was wrong in his head but this was something he needed to do. He placed a kiss on the left side of your face, a quick peck but you felt the linger of it even as he pulled away.

And despite the quick movement of that, as he walked away he did that slowly, gradually, as if not to crack the fragile thing you had hanging between you still.

He got to the opposite side of the gate before pausing and looking just slightly over his shoulder.

“I don’t know how to live in that version.” He awkwardly moved his neck, like the next words were hard for him to admit to. “But I wish I did.”

Dividers by @realitycanbewhateveridesire ♥️ 🍺 Animal Kingdom Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics @kmc1989 @princesssunderworld (let me know if you'd like to be added!)

207 notes · View notes