fatihwillms

[fatihwillms]

OUTER BANKS 4.09, “The Storm”

[fatihwillms]

"i'm sure some people do, but i can't relate." fatih continues to listen to her but honestly it all sounded so familiar. there was a part of him that wanted so badly to make a joke and ask if she ever considered her husband was just a hitman for an underground organization, but he figured she wouldn't find it as amusing as he did. he offered a kind smile, "it's okay. i don't mind lending an open ear. i wish i could give you some helpful advice, but...i'm probably the last person who should be giving marriage advice." he shrugged at the thank you, "no thanks needed. just keep your chin up." he finishes off the rest of his beer as the drinks are brought over by the bartender and gives them a polite smile. he turned to the woman, holding his drink up, "cheers. even if it's a shit night."

claire smiled at his statement. "does anyone know how to get their shit together?" she questioned. "i feel like i just fucked everything up. our relationship hasn't been the same for the past couple years, and he won't tell me anything, so i find comfort elsewhere because he won't show me any." claire had stray tears run down her face, so she turned her head. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't be unloading all this on you." she mentioned. "thank you." when he ordered a drink for her, as much as she didn't need another.

[fatihwillms]

fatih had only been out a month and for the entire time he had been out the guy was trying to become invisible. getting a job, paying bills, being normal. how much more invisible could you get in a city like new york just living a 9-5 routine? not to mention the man could not afford to cause any waves that could affect the syndicate, if he valued his life.

when it came to his blood family fatih did not even think they knew he had been released, and his husband? that was enough to check himself back in for good this time. it was already so exhausting being out, but he had been pleasantly surprised when levi reached out to him. even more when he extended an invitation to join him for coffee. honestly, he could not remember the last time he had seen his brother.

as he walked to the destination he agreed to meet levi at he thought about the last time the two had been together, back when they were kids. what he wouldn’t do to go back to those times but only the times in which it was just himself and levi. part of him knows that his younger self would’ve been disappointed in the person he had turned out to be in the end.

stepping into the cafe, he inhales the scent of freshly brewed coffee. when was the last time he smelled that? back when he was living with selim and the thought stings a bit. luckily it does not take long to locate levi and he walks over to him. “hello, levi.” fatih waited, half expecting to get the same reaction selim had given him. “thank you for reaching out.” he takes a seat across his brother, looking at the man in front of him, “how are you?”

starter for @fatihwillms

Levi did have a complicated relationship with family especially his brothers. They were on rocky grounds at least with his oldest brother who believed that the male was wasting his talent and also hated and disliked the fact that Levi became a doctor and choose not to go into the family business. Levi was raised and conditioned to be loyal to his family and despite not talking to them, he still thought of them and kept an eye on them. There was no way he would completely give up on his brothers especially his younger brother Fatih.

Levi did keep tabs on him even before they went to jail and so, he was the first person to know when they came out of jail. Levi was always big brother, despite everything they had been through and despite not visiting his brother and not talking to them after all this time, the ER doctor did reach out and asked his brother to meet him for coffee. Levi had texted Fatih the location of the coffee shop. He arrived early and found a seat and waited. He looked around, glad that the place was empty. He sat and reflected and thought back to when they were kids.

[fatihwillms]

what selim does next shocks fatih, who never thought he’d have this chance. his gaze lowered to the badge for a moment, listening to selim speak, trying to process this gesture. it was more than he deserved and he can’t remember the last time someone showed him this kind of kindness without strings attached. “husband to husband,” fatih repeats, softly. finally, after a minute, he looks up to meet selim’s gaze. their gazes lock for a moment as a silence draws between them until he finally nods and moves around the bar. he picks the barstool next to selim, sitting down. “husbands. until the sun rises, right?” he pours them both another drink, taking a generous sip of his, letting the liquor travel down to his stomach. the smell of selim’s cologne isn’t lost on fatih nor is the way he just wants to drown in it.

“ from the moment i was born my life had been had been pretty laid out for me. i did not even get the choice to choose between living with my mother or my father because that had also been chosen for me. and to this day, selim, i still do not know who my mother is or what she looks like. anyway, when i was about eight i found out why she was so absent in my life. see my father would always tell me she was over seas in the army, but eventually…even as a kid…it became strange that she was off doing all these things and yet never once called home. when one of my friends told me his father, who was also in the army, had come home…that’s when it really hit me. why wasn’t my mother coming home? why didn’t she even call? what did her voice sound like? and so one day when i was home alone i did a bit of digging and i found the answers to those questions. turns out my father had paid her off to forget about me…so she did. to this day i have no idea where she is or if she is even still alive, but at least i stopped wondering as a kid what happened to her.” he pulls out a pack of smokes, placing them momentarily in the counter. “on my tenth birthday, my father began to tell me about the truth about our family. and the truth? he was a no good scumbag, except i did not realize it at that moment of time. because my grandfather was just as good about getting in my head and he constantly reminded me where my loyalty should be.”

he lights a smoke, offering the pack to selim, and continues. he tells him about the intense training he was put through and how by the age of eleven he had already been taught how to properly shoot a gun. “none of us ever went against their word, except….levi. he was the only one with any smarts to him and was able to forge a life outside of the crime one we grew up in. my father being a boss for a gang, my grandfather having passed that title down to him when he was too old to continue that role, it was difficult to escape that life. but he did.” he takes another drag of his cigarette, making sure to blow the smoke away from selim’s direction. “by the time you met me in high school there was not an ounce in me that felt like i could live a life outside of what i had been built to live and there certainly was no purpose for me outside of it. that’s why meeting you was so impactful for me, because i found a softness in the world that i had never known could exist. it made me realize….maybe it could be different for me. maybe…just maybe.” he sighed, “but…then we got separated and i continued the same pattern my father wanted for me because i did not really know how to function otherwise at the time. it became routine as the punishment for breaking that routine was worse than what they were for forcing me to do.” he takes a pause to take a small sip of his drink. “ i was recruited by the syndicate and the rest sort of became history as you now know.”

he takes a drag of his smoke, slowly exhaling. "when we got married things kind of...began to slowly change in my mind. i suddenly had a purpose to fight against the life that had been laid out for me since i was a newborn and it was you. it was the home we were building and the family we became." he looked at his glass, "at first, i wanted them to keep putting me on jobs because the pay was amazing. all i could think was that i could make enough to help us build a life together and then we could be comfortable. but the bigger the pay....the bigger the request. every kill i was sentenced to do came down to either rejecting the job or taking on the job. rejecting the job was never truly an option, because what about you? if i said no...i was too scared to think of the retaliation that could bring. i hated myself for it. but what could i do? it was either their family or mine and i sure as hell was not going to let them take you. so i thought...okay if i just keep playing along then eventually they will allow me my freedom. i think when they told me that i just needed to do one more job and i could retire...i think looking back on it now that it was a lie then too. i think they knew that the more they drove me from home the worse things would get with us, which they did...obviously."

he looked to selim, softly sighing. "that's how i got to where i am now. and you should know something else...it's not just the syndicate. it's not just one organization running things. there are three. the syndicate, the cortázar cartel, and the brotherhood. we are not friends, just to be clear. so you see...it's much deeper than you or i could ever imagine." fatih cleared his throat, "when you turned me in, selim, you made yourself a target for all of them. not only did you piss off some higher ups in my organization, but you let your face be known to the public. which is why i was so angry at you. because you had unintentionally made yourself a target to others too and i couldn't protect you. i can't protect you from the devils i don't know, just the ones i do." taking another drag of his smoke. "so...that's it. that's how i ended up in the life that i am in, why i did what i did, and i don't really know what else to say. you know the cases, you've seen the files, so. and if you're going to ask me more about the cartel or brotherhood...i don't have much to give on them. being locked away for as long as i was set me back a bit and i've only been out a month. i've just been trying to live a normal life, keep my head down, so i don't...really know who runs the other orginizations anymore. hell i barely know who runs mine."

he hadn’t meant to set him off again, but he had. he had yet again unintentionally hurt selim into assuming something and once more it felt like he had set them back further. fuck. he felt like he was fighting a losing battle, like ni matter what he did or said it was always going to be like this now. walking on eggshells around someone who used to be his rock and the very last person he should be feeling like this with. all he could do was watch his ex-partner as he spoke, sponging up every word, taking it all in. every word broke down all that fatih had spent building up while he was locked away, bulldozing through every wall he had built, every safe space he had managed to conjure up in his mind, all of it gone in mere seconds. he lets him speak without interrupting, lets himself feel the weight of the words selim was saying, because they both deserved that much. selim deserved to be heard and fatih deserved to feel how much he had damaged the other man. no matter his own reasons, even if they were with good intentions, he had still played a part in hurting the very person he had promised to protect. each word made him hate himself.

it was only when a silence fell between them that fatih tried to find his voice again. but it took him a moment. he hadn’t even realized his eyes had started to water even less had he realized that a tear rolled down his cheek. fatih williams was defeated, entirely. his voice, while shaky, finally found, speaks up after the silence is so loud it was deafening, “i remember when we first met in high school and i remember the day i first heard you laugh at one of my jokes. it was then i knew you were special, it was then i knew what i wanted in my life.” he looked to the other man, “you were my future even then. and when we reunited, when things picked up like we never even dropped them, when you accepted to be my husband, i finally found the meaning of life. and it was the feeling you gave me, the love you blossomed with in me for not just you but for myself. i found my home. and i am saying this not because i want to take a trip down memory lane, but so you know how deep my love for you has ran. because i need you to hear from my mouth that all i have ever felt for you was nothing but love, nothing but good, because you were that light in my life. you became my personal dose of sunshine and in return i worked hard to make sure i could be even half the man you deserved in your life.”

he shook his head, pushing himself off the counter, “ i never meant for things to get so out of hand. i never meant to destroy the one person who taught me that the world still held something worth fighting for. my family, the man i have loved since teenagers, the one thing i wanted more than oxygen itself. because you became that very thing, selim. you became the oxygen i breathed, the water i needed to quench my thirst, my reason for living. it was you. holding you at night, being able to soothe any demons in your life, reminding you of how beautiful you are…it made me the happiest i had ever been. to know i could give you even a small amount of what you gave me, of what you made me feel.” he sighed, “i never wanted you involved in that part of my life. i wanted to be free of it, but when you’re family is part of it…it’s not as easy as it seems to escape. and then i found a way…and i just needed time, selim. i was almost out. i was almost free. we would’ve had a rocky road for a bit but there was no doubt in my mind that we would’ve gotten through it all. together. like we always did.” he reached up to wipe away the tears that had escaped, trying to not fall apart entirely in front of the other. “but you wouldn’t give it up. you had to keep digging, had to keep poking yourself in more, and the further you pushed the more i had to do to keep you safe. it’s not that i didn’t believe in you or the help you could provide but keeping you at a distance was the only way i could think of keeping you safe.but then it just seemed like i was cheating and that…that killed me. that you would think so low of me and my love for you. that you think anyone would ever be able to come between us, and that i would ever be a cheater. i was losing you right before my eyes, right through my fingertips, and there was nothing i could do to stop it.” he shook his head again, “and just when i thought it was finally about to be over…” his shoulders drop, “…you locked me away.” he swallowed a thick lump in his throat, fighting back more tears. “you were out of my protection and you wouldn’t even talk to me to let me tell you. you turned me in and as heroic as that stand was, it unintentionally started a domino effect. and i was furious at you for what you did, because i could no longer keep you safe. i had no way with being able to protect you against people who have more pull than you could even imagine.” he paused, taking a moment. he needed to speak to lee. he needed to know who it was that had threatened selim and he needed to find them. those actions would not go without retaliation if he was allowed to do it. “but even as i laid in that cold prison cell, even on the days that shit hit the roof there, even then…i hoped you were safe. even then i wanted nothing but you to find your peace and happiness now that i was out of your life.” he inhaled and exhales slowly. “despite everything you were the only thing to turn those dark days into lighter days, despite everything, i loved you even in there. i love you even now. i would have never wanted you to be threatened. i only ever tried to keep you safe.”

he lets out another sigh, ignoring the way his body simply wanted to collapse right now. he didn’t have fight in him right now, he just didn’t. “i don’t deserve to be out. i deserve to rot in there slowly, never to see the light of day again, to be left forgotten from the world that i helped destroy. but here i am. once more a puppet and this time, from one prison to another.” because truly fatih wasn’t free. he owed everything to the syndicate, to lee, and he knew he would be paying his debt until the air left his lungs. “while i can never right the wrongs i did, never truly wash off the blood on my hands, i can at least right one wrong. which is…your freedom from me. we don’t have to see each other anymore after that, but i will sign those papers now. you deserve that at the very least from me. and you’ll never see me again. we can stop mourning our marriage and finally heal from all the destruction i caused. as unintentional as it was…you can be free to live your life without me there and to marry someone worthy of being your husband. if you could just…get me copies of those papers again…you know where i work.”

he didn’t know what else to say, or do, and it felt like their time was ending now as quickly as it had begun. all he could do was stand behind the bar and look at the man he once called a husband.

[fatihwillms]

fatih nodded, trying to picture what it must’ve been like for lee to learn how to drive the car here. just when he thought he couldn’t be more impressed with the man he was proven wrong. “suppose that’s true. what good is she there without you. you know if i had a hat on i would be tipping it in your direction. it’s mighty impressive that you were able to catch on driving it here. then again,” he playfully smirked, looking at lee, “you’re a mighty impressive kind of man.”

as they pulled away from the prison, driving further, fatih turned to watch the prison get smaller in the distance. was it weird for it to feel bittersweet? his first couple of years had been hell but he had finally gotten the hang of things in the past two years. as happy as he was to be free, he now had to readjust yet again to a new environment. he hoped to never see that place again and the further they got the more he felt like part of the weight he bared was being lifted.

he adjusted himself so he’s looking forward again, eyes watching everything they passed. when was the last time he saw and open road like this? his mind travels to a memory with selim and then it hits him. he turned to lee, “i’m happy to be back, lee. you know i owe you everything.” he paused, “i am so sorry for the mess i caused. to be honest, i expected to be left in there to rot. i expected you have found a more suitable replacement who didn’t come with the baggage i have.”

Lee's dark eyebrows frown, a telling tale that this is the first time he's ever been hit with this question. He appreciates the use of the word baby — which is precisely the treatment his Mustang is deserving of.

"I reckon, back in the day. It's been quite a while, love." Ever since he'd arrived in New York from England, some twenty years ago, he'd actively avoided all Americanisms which didn't feel authentic to him. "If I'm not in London, I ought to bring it here, aye."

That very preference extends itself not only to his car, but those very cigarettes too. As Lee starts the engine, he places the whole set onto his lap —cigarette pack, metal lighter— to either hold or enjoy.

Once they're in motion, wind invades the Mustang through the open windows. "You've been there long enough, don't you reckon? And I'd fancy my hitman back."

Truth is, the Syndicate has the resources to keep someone in prison for life — or get them out before the night is through. But Fatih's arrest hadn't been as straight-forward as getting caught at the wrong place, and at the right time.

[fatihwillms]

he softly chuckled, “wish i knew. if you can figure that out let me know so that i can start getting my own shit in order.” he wasn’t stupid, but he could still learn a thing or two. “well, listen, for what it’s worth…it would be his loss if you two didn’t work things out. a marriage is worth trying to save, if you’re both willing to put that effort into it, but only if you think it’s worth saving.” this was stinging him a bit but he tried not to think about his own marriage, mostly he tried to tell himself he didn’t have a marriage to think about. instead he ordered another round for himself and then told the bartender to bring whatever the woman next to him was drinking. “how long has it been growing distant between you two, if you don’t mind me asking?”

"thank you." she mumbled. when he wiped away some tears, she gave him a small smile. "it is, it really is." she replied. claire and her husband had been together for twenty-three years and now, he has moved out and living in a hotel. "i don't need help." she bit back. "my kids have a nanny." claire takes the napkin and freshens up her face. "why are men so fucking stupid?" she asked.

[fatihwillms]

fatih was out enjoying a night for the first time since his release. he was on beer number three when suddenly the woman next to him began spilling her woes to him, catching him off guard a bit. he turned to look at her, listening to her story, slowly sipping his beer. he did not judge her because he did not know her or the marriage she shared with her husband. but he silently wondered why one would cheat, that never made sense to him. but to each their own.

“come now,” fatih said, picking up a napkin, carefully reaching out to wipe away a couple of tears from her cheek, “there is no need for all this. that’s a difficult situation,” his own marriage was so far in the gutter that this issue honestly didn’t even look that bad to him, but he wasn’t in her shoes, “there is plenty of help you can reach out for if you need it.” he leaves the napkin on the bar counter for her to take if she wanted, returning his hand to hold his beer bottle. “it can’t rain all the time, gorgeous. things will look up. is there any any way you two can go to couples therapy?”

Claire was at the bar it had been a rough day. She was sitting on a bar stool and the word vomit coming out of her mouth to the random person standing next to her "... I didn't know that he knew and now what am I going to do? How do I raise three kids on my own?" Claire and her husband had started drifting apart since she became senator, but she didn't know it was because he knew about her adventures outside the home and office. "...like how am I supposed to survive now?"

[fatihwillms]

he hadn’t meant to set him off again, but he had. he had yet again unintentionally hurt selim into assuming something and once more it felt like he had set them back further. fuck. he felt like he was fighting a losing battle, like ni matter what he did or said it was always going to be like this now. walking on eggshells around someone who used to be his rock and the very last person he should be feeling like this with. all he could do was watch his ex-partner as he spoke, sponging up every word, taking it all in. every word broke down all that fatih had spent building up while he was locked away, bulldozing through every wall he had built, every safe space he had managed to conjure up in his mind, all of it gone in mere seconds. he lets him speak without interrupting, lets himself feel the weight of the words selim was saying, because they both deserved that much. selim deserved to be heard and fatih deserved to feel how much he had damaged the other man. no matter his own reasons, even if they were with good intentions, he had still played a part in hurting the very person he had promised to protect. each word made him hate himself.

it was only when a silence fell between them that fatih tried to find his voice again. but it took him a moment. he hadn’t even realized his eyes had started to water even less had he realized that a tear rolled down his cheek. fatih williams was defeated, entirely. his voice, while shaky, finally found, speaks up after the silence is so loud it was deafening, “i remember when we first met in high school and i remember the day i first heard you laugh at one of my jokes. it was then i knew you were special, it was then i knew what i wanted in my life.” he looked to the other man, “you were my future even then. and when we reunited, when things picked up like we never even dropped them, when you accepted to be my husband, i finally found the meaning of life. and it was the feeling you gave me, the love you blossomed with in me for not just you but for myself. i found my home. and i am saying this not because i want to take a trip down memory lane, but so you know how deep my love for you has ran. because i need you to hear from my mouth that all i have ever felt for you was nothing but love, nothing but good, because you were that light in my life. you became my personal dose of sunshine and in return i worked hard to make sure i could be even half the man you deserved in your life.”

he shook his head, pushing himself off the counter, “ i never meant for things to get so out of hand. i never meant to destroy the one person who taught me that the world still held something worth fighting for. my family, the man i have loved since teenagers, the one thing i wanted more than oxygen itself. because you became that very thing, selim. you became the oxygen i breathed, the water i needed to quench my thirst, my reason for living. it was you. holding you at night, being able to soothe any demons in your life, reminding you of how beautiful you are…it made me the happiest i had ever been. to know i could give you even a small amount of what you gave me, of what you made me feel.” he sighed, “i never wanted you involved in that part of my life. i wanted to be free of it, but when you’re family is part of it…it’s not as easy as it seems to escape. and then i found a way…and i just needed time, selim. i was almost out. i was almost free. we would’ve had a rocky road for a bit but there was no doubt in my mind that we would’ve gotten through it all. together. like we always did.” he reached up to wipe away the tears that had escaped, trying to not fall apart entirely in front of the other. “but you wouldn’t give it up. you had to keep digging, had to keep poking yourself in more, and the further you pushed the more i had to do to keep you safe. it’s not that i didn’t believe in you or the help you could provide but keeping you at a distance was the only way i could think of keeping you safe.but then it just seemed like i was cheating and that…that killed me. that you would think so low of me and my love for you. that you think anyone would ever be able to come between us, and that i would ever be a cheater. i was losing you right before my eyes, right through my fingertips, and there was nothing i could do to stop it.” he shook his head again, “and just when i thought it was finally about to be over…” his shoulders drop, “…you locked me away.” he swallowed a thick lump in his throat, fighting back more tears. “you were out of my protection and you wouldn’t even talk to me to let me tell you. you turned me in and as heroic as that stand was, it unintentionally started a domino effect. and i was furious at you for what you did, because i could no longer keep you safe. i had no way with being able to protect you against people who have more pull than you could even imagine.” he paused, taking a moment. he needed to speak to lee. he needed to know who it was that had threatened selim and he needed to find them. those actions would not go without retaliation if he was allowed to do it. “but even as i laid in that cold prison cell, even on the days that shit hit the roof there, even then…i hoped you were safe. even then i wanted nothing but you to find your peace and happiness now that i was out of your life.” he inhaled and exhales slowly. “despite everything you were the only thing to turn those dark days into lighter days, despite everything, i loved you even in there. i love you even now. i would have never wanted you to be threatened. i only ever tried to keep you safe.”

he lets out another sigh, ignoring the way his body simply wanted to collapse right now. he didn’t have fight in him right now, he just didn’t. “i don’t deserve to be out. i deserve to rot in there slowly, never to see the light of day again, to be left forgotten from the world that i helped destroy. but here i am. once more a puppet and this time, from one prison to another.” because truly fatih wasn’t free. he owed everything to the syndicate, to lee, and he knew he would be paying his debt until the air left his lungs. “while i can never right the wrongs i did, never truly wash off the blood on my hands, i can at least right one wrong. which is…your freedom from me. we don’t have to see each other anymore after that, but i will sign those papers now. you deserve that at the very least from me. and you’ll never see me again. we can stop mourning our marriage and finally heal from all the destruction i caused. as unintentional as it was…you can be free to live your life without me there and to marry someone worthy of being your husband. if you could just…get me copies of those papers again…you know where i work.”

he didn’t know what else to say, or do, and it felt like their time was ending now as quickly as it had begun. all he could do was stand behind the bar and look at the man he once called a husband.

   In the cool air, Selim’s warm breath creates clouds of condensation with every one that he takes, another lame attempt to calm himself down as he watches the man he married turn his back to him. Dark eyes drink in the line of his shoulders, run down the column of his spine where once his hands had traced words of his love, captivated by the way his skin danced under the tips of his fingers, and eventually, they met the ground a few feet away. Briefly, he believes that he’s going to walk home or seek out comfort in Tristan after sending an apologetic text to his supervisor for his sudden departure but after wiping the emotion from his face, squaring his shoulders, and piecing together a story for when she inevitably cornered him about it later, Selim finds himself making his way back into the bar. 

   Unable to meet the eyes of his company, the agent merely sits, zoned out, barely listening in on the conversation they were having. His drink, ordered by another agent, remains untouched on the bar in front of him despite his soul craving some sort of comfort from the current moment. He finds Fatih’s shadow at the bar every now and again, watches him interact with patrons, politely, attentively, and warmly and can only think of how lost the families of his victims would be when they learned of his release.

   Flashes of crime scene photos pinned to a bulletin board flood his mind, words written on evidence bags and in police reports that left very little room for debate join them and he wonders now, like he had five years ago, how the beautiful, kind, patient man that he married was capable of such violence. How did a man with such a monster inside of him hold the gentleness to yearn to tuck their children into bed at night? How did someone who could see human life as meaningless find meaning in their life together? More importantly, why not him? Was it because it wasn’t worth the money? Or was it simply because having a federal agent as a partner could benefit him when he needed it the most? 

   Selim stays there in that circle, mulling it over and over again until everybody around them slowly filters out of the bar and only he and Fatih remain. 

   It’s only when his ex-lover speaks that Selim’s mind finally falls back down into his body and his eyes meet his form from where he sat. The energy between them doesn’t feel like lovers or husbands or even friends, the way that the smaller man recites his every action to him feels more like a cornered suspect and a flighty police officer during a stand-off. He takes the drink, downing it in one go despite the way his face sours and an audible yet quiet gasp falls from his lips. As if they weren’t at odds, he wishes to condemn him with a laugh or a sarcastic quip but the reality of their situation hits him again when their eyes meet. 

   He doesn’t know what he’s expecting him to say but it isn’t the quiet apology he gets nor the words that come after. Selim tries to control it, the emotional quiver of his bottom lip, but instead, the low, soft tones of the man he knew returns, speaking to him of his lack of desire to hurt him and all of his control wanes. The agent sits there and listens to him speak, watches him move around the bar, drying glasses and putting them away in their respective places, and guilt finds him. Still, he remains quiet, unsure of what to do or say or even what he was supposed to be feeling at this moment. 

   Until Fatih asks him how he’d been, as if they had merely broken up, went their separate ways and had now reunited; as if there weren’t lost remains that he felt personally responsible for out there right now, buried by his husband or at least the people he worked for; as if he hadn’t built a case against him, reported him, and testified for his conviction. Until he assumes that he’d been holding up well.

His breath is emotional, inhaled softly yet sharply and exhaled shakily, a subtle nod following his words but the look of offence on his face tells the other man everything before he even says it. "Yes, Fatih, I've been holding up just fine - what, with the nightmares, the panic attacks, the news articles, nearly losing the only thing I've ever been good at! Let's not forget the dead animals left on our porch or the threatening messages taped to my car or the fact that I had a man, twice my size, pin me to the wall of our home and threaten me for months after I testified as some sick type of retaliation!" His voice breaks here, speaking from the deeply hurt husband rather than the noble, heroic agent as the journalists had made him out to be.

"I couldn't get out of bed for days! Do you understand? I couldn't breathe, I barely ate - and all I wanted? As sick and stupid as it is, was you. I wanted you to tell me that it would be okay again, that we'd weather this storm and come out fine on the other side, for you to tuck me into your neck and hug me until everything bad went away but due to your strange loyalty to your master and your lack of trust in me to be able to help you, you forced my hand! I had nobody!" And he knows the truth that his husband hadn't either but the selfish part of him doesn't care much at the moment. "I went through it all alone! Just like normal - So yes, I've been holding up absolutely fucking fine!"

[fatihwillms]

fatih nodded, "right." he turned then and walked back inside so that the two of them were not walking in together. it was lost on him that someone else was now the cause for selim's happiness, it was clear in the way his ex-partner reacted to whatever message he had received. that was actually nice to see for fatih, at least one of them deserved a proper happy ending. why not the better of the half? why not the good guy? and even selim hated him, fatih didn't have to hate the other. he could be angry, hurt even, but hate? never. he only ever wanted the best for selim. back then and even now. so, he continues the evening as if everything in this bar tonight is as it is any other night. he's friendly, polite, attentive just enough without being overbearing, and he makes sure to keep a distance from selim's area without making it too obvious.

the minutes turn to hours, until finally last call. the lights dim down a bit, signaling for the crowd to leave, and slowly all but two bodies leave the bar. for a moment the only noise that can be heard is the muffled noise of cars driving by blocked by the windows and walls between them. "i'm going to move around the floor to put the chairs up," he says, finally breaking the silence. it hurt fatih that it felt like he needed to explain his every action to someone who was supposed to be family, but such was life. he moved to a table, wiping it off with a rag, and placed four chairs up on it. then another, and another.

finally, after a couple of minutes of silence, he comes back around the bar. "i'm going to reach for one of my personal bottles under the counter," he reassures, slowly reaching for his bottle of 1800. he pulls it out along with two drink glasses, filling them both with a bit of the liquor. he cautiously pushed the glass out, fully expecting to have it either politely rejected or thrown in his face. "if you want it, it's for you. it's not poisoned or anything." he takes a generous sip of his own, enjoying the warmth it gave him as the alcohol trickled to his stomach. fatih lets out a heavy sigh, setting the glass down. now that it was just them it was easier for fatih to let the ice from earlier melt away a bit.

he looked down to the contents in his glass, "i'm sorry." he lets those two words hang in the air between them for a moment. "i didn't mean to come off so cold earlier. seeing you was one thing but seeing how you reacted...going into a panic attack...." he shakes his head, lifting the glass again, "...that broke me more than you turning me in." he takes another sip of his drink, letting the liquor soothe him. "for what it's worth, despite everything," he looked to the other, "i would never harm you. i'd rather be unalived than to ever be the one behind a knife or gun pointed at you. that much, selim, that much i hope you can one day at least understand to be true. even if it's not right now." he sighed again, pushing himself off the counter, moving to dry a couple of cups.

the time was late enough that fatih knew he wouldn't be able to stay in the shelters this evening. luckily, he didn't have too much to carry around this evening, but he was silently wondering about where he'd go after he closed up officially. it made him also wonder about the home they had once shared and what came of it.

"how has life treated you since everything happened? it looks like you're holding up pretty good, which is nice to see."

His eerie calm in the aftermath of a panic attack is shock more than true ease. Selim had been prepared mentally to see him again; the agent believed that he would have more to say, in angrier tones, with less tears and more animosity - what he hadn't been prepared for was for him to be rendered speechless, terrified that if he made the wrong move then Fatih would target him next. The scariest thing about his husband was that he didn't have a pattern, there was no rulebook, no motivation; anyone could be his victim, even people that he claimed to love - even him. Against his thigh, his phone buzzes and without taking his eyes away from Fatih, he tugs it from his pocket. His smile is lopsided, barely there despite the way his eyes settle and his muscles relax as if the text that he'd received had administered some type of natural Ativan to his system. 'Are you busy tonight?' He replies, a stark realization washes over him; he was standing with the man that he'd married while making plans with the man that he loved. At one point in time, Selim thought that the moon would've had to turn blue for him to be able to look upon his husband and not want to tug him into him, to kiss him until they were one or to protect him from the world - but in this moment, he wants to protect the world from him. Selim listens, truly listens to his words but the outcome is the same despite an inkling growing in his gut; it took a lot of power to overthrow an FBI conviction and who better than the federal government was good at breaking the rules? The people who paid them off. It doesn't show on his face now, the training of a seasoned agent takes over and he simply plays his part. "I don't normally -" Selim breathes "- come here." He shifts. "So you don't have to worry about it, I won't come back. If you're free, regardless of how, then I need to let you rebuild what I took from you. I'll stay and wait but I swear to God, Fatih if I connect you to another murder, I will not stop until you are back behind bars along with whomever got you out. Do you understand?" "As for us...I guess we'll talk about that later, even if there is nothing to say."

[fatihwillms]

PISCES

⊹ — PISCES .

≻ is your muse sensitive, or do they have a thick skin ?

thick skinned. he has to be.

≻ does your muse have any escapist behaviors ?

absolutely. any room he is in fatih is always silently mapping out an exit, even when he was in prison.

≻ what does your muse dream about ? are they lucid , do they sleepwalk ?

fatih has always suffered from sleepwalking. during prison his dreams turned more lucid, and his sleepwalking went dormant for a bit (or so it seemed). he hates his lucid dreaming; truly wishes it would just go away.

≻ how does your muse handle harsh criticism ?

it depends on who it is from. from someone in the syndicate he will handle it pretty well and take it to heart as feedback on what he can improve on. especially if that someone is lee. otherwise, unless you're his blood family, he'll dish a couple of cold words right back in defense.

[fatihwillms]

❓ do you miss selim

"no."

[fatihwillms]

Fatih shakes his head, "Nope." He followed Lee towards the car but pauses when the man tells him about the vehicle being an English car, moving over to the other side as instructed. "Huh." He's like a newborn taking everything in, curious about his surroundings more than the average person. In a way, he was a newborn, reborn to a new life. "Question, did it take you a while to adjust to the streets here in the states with this baby?"

His gaze travels to the prison, all light leaving his eyes as he stared at it, shaking his head in silent response. "Never been but I imagine anything is better than what was in there." He stared hard at the outside of the prison as if trying to burn the entire place down with his gaze but in reality, he was remembering who put him there to begin with.

The smell of Lee's freshly lit cigarette distracts him; he can't remember the last time he had one. He looked from the prison over to Lee, "Did something happen that sparked the sudden need for my release?"

Lee nods, "Victoria's Secret has really gone to the dogs."

The humor doesn't give way to the possibility that Lee's thoughts are flooded with memories of his own day of release, some twenty-five years ago. Not from prison like Fatih's, but that of the criminally insane back in England. Broadmoor hospital, where cell weren't so much steel and concrete, but padded white pillows.

"Hm, dunno. I haven't got breakfast — have you?" Judging by where Fatih had just walked out from, Lee thinks he knows the answer, already. "Alright, then. Hop on, mate. Other side," he warns, "English car."

As for Lee, he sits behind the right-sided wheel, not in any rush to drive them out. He kills his cigarette, then gets another. "Not a bloody trip to the Bahamas," he nods toward the prison, "was it, darling?"

[fatihwillms]

ROXXANE

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 . ( a collection of headcanon prompts based on each zodiac sign . adjust questions as desired . )

⊹ — ARIES . ≻ how does your muse handle competition ? ≻ what is your muse's biggest regret ? ≻ how does your muse handle losing control ? ≻ how does your muse express their passion ?

⊹ — TAURUS . ≻ what is your muse's most prized possession ? ≻ how does your character show their reliability ? ≻ what is your muse's favorite way to relax ? ≻ what simple things does your muse find joy in ?

⊹ — GEMINI . ≻ how does your muse communicate with others ? ≻ how does your muse handle the duality within themselves ? ≻ is your character predictable ? unpredictable ? ≻ how does your muse react to change ?

⊹ — CANCER . ≻ how does your muse react to emotional manipulation ? ≻ what is your muse's most treasured family tradition ? ≻ what is a cherished memory your muse holds close ? ≻ how does your muse express love & care ?

⊹ — LEO . ≻ does your muse lead others effectively ? ≻ what is your muse's most arrogant behavior ? ≻ is your character confident ? charismatic ? ≻ how does your muse handle being ignored ?

⊹ — VIRGO . ≻ what is your muse's most dedicated project ? ≻ how does your muse assist others in times of need ? ≻ what are your muse's standards for themselves ? ≻ what does your muse find beauty in ?

⊹ — LIBRA . ≻ how does your muse bring balance to their surroundings ? ≻ is your muse a people pleaser ? ≻ how does your muse navigate justice & mercy ? ≻ how does your muse handle having to confront someone ?

⊹ — SCORPIO . ≻ what is your muse's most transformative experience ? ≻ is your muse the jealous type ? are they possessive ? ≻ does your muse engage in introspection often ? ≻ how does your muse deal with obsession ?

⊹ — SAGITTARIUS . ≻ is your muse a workaholic ? what's their view of workaholics ? ≻ what is your muse's most reckless decision ? ≻ how does your muse handle commitment ? ≻ does your muse experience wanderlust ? where would they go ?

⊹ — CAPRICORN . ≻ how does your muse demonstrate their ambition ? ≻ is your muse an optimist , realist, or pessimist ? ≻ does your muse value their legacy ? what have they done to ensure it ? ≻ what is your muse's average daily routine ?

⊹ — AQUARIUS . ≻ what is a cause or a movement your muse is deeply involved in ? ≻ how does your muse handle unpredictability ? ≻ does your muse challenge the status quo ? how ? ≻ what subject or field is your muse passionate about learning ?

⊹ — PISCES . ≻ is your muse sensitive, or do they have a thick skin ? ≻ does your muse have any escapist behaviors ? ≻ what does your muse dream about ? are they lucid , do they sleepwalk ? ≻ how does your muse handle harsh criticism ?

[fatihwillms]

ROXXANE

The 'yes or no' game.

Send my muse "❓+" alongside harsh hitting questions, scenarios, anything question-related really, but they can only answer with "yes" or "no". Nothing more, nothing less.

[fatihwillms]

As he stepped out from the dimness of the prison walls the sun beamed down with a gentle warmth and the air felt fresher today. Release day. Fatih Williams never thought he’d see the day he would be walking a free man, cleared name, new slate, a fresh start.

He had on the same clothes he had been processed in years ago, somehow they still fit, a dead cell phone, and a couple bucks in his pocket. Fatih wasn’t too sure who was expecting to see on the outside, wasn’t sure who even went above and beyond to bail him out.

Fatih smiled when his eyes adjusted to the brightness of the outside, registering who was waiting for him. The greeting made him chuckle, probably the first actual chuckle he’s had since being locked up.

“Hey,” he gives a little nod, “they ran out of stockings in your size and deprived me from what could’ve been?” He scoffed, “And they say I’m the criminal.” Fatih paused, sincerely saying, “Thanks, Lee. Where to now?”

@fatihwillms setting: outside of prison, release day

For what seems like hours —thirty-three minutes— Lee stands outside of his parked car, an English-made 1967 black Mustang, arms crossed and a bored look on his face. He takes turns between lighting a cigarette, and simply staring daggers into the prison walls as he waits for Fatih to step outside.

And so finally, he does.

"Welcome back, darling," Lee smiles. "I've wanted to do it like Sabrina Carpenter, but they ran out of stockings in my size."

[fatihwillms]

my husband. it felt cruel to hear that come from selim (despite it being true), like some sick joke. the word felt like a knife that twisted into him slowly, even if his facial expression did not falter. he made no effort to move nor to speak as he let the other continue. was it cruel? yes. it hurt fatih more than he was letting on. it wasn’t just turning him in, he would’ve have forgiven him for that, in fact he did forgive selim for that, it was the hours that turned to days and weeks then years in which fatih held hope that perhaps he would hear word from selim. but he never checked in to see how fatih was doing. never to see how his own life had adjusted now that he was locked away forever. never to see if he had been hurt that day, if he had been fed that day, and in his heart the man he married would’ve never been so cruel. instead he was left to rot away forever, at least, it was supposed to be forever. just like they were supposed to be.

he takes another slow drag of the cigarette, the noise of burning paper mixed with the scent of nicotine fills the space. mr. williams. that one stung hard but he continues to let the man speak. at this point his smoke was halfway, as was his time with the other. it is only when he is certain selim has said what he has to say for now, letting a beat pass, that he finally decides it's now his turn to say a couple of things. despite all of this…he wanted to reach out and embrace the man before him. he wanted to feel how real he was, to smell the cologne that haunted his every thought while he was away, to taste the lips that had left him so drunk in love many times before. he has to keep reminding himself that their life before was dead now, as was the husband he once had.

“husband. mr. williams. which one is it, selim?” he shot back, voice calm, even toned. “believe me, i have not forgotten a single thing. you have nothing but time when you’re on the inside. time to think, to reflect, to be angry, and to understand.” he paused, “i'm not a rat, selim." fatih shrugged, "i'm free. it's both as simple and complicated as that." he turned his head to look at the bar building, a small scar (courtesy of an inmate from his earlier years in prison) can be seen, at the moment, he’s forgotten it’s even there.

life had not been kind to him behind bars, at least not for the first three years. his anger had controlled him, and he easily got into fights with the wrong people. mouthed off to the wrong correctional officers, lost his temper with the wrong inmates which caused him to get set up for a good beating a lot at first. it was worse when he eventually decided he didn’t want to live the rest of his life fighting, arguing, more importantly being angry. it got worse because he didn’t fight back and the entire time all he could picture was selim’s face. he envisioned the softness in his touch, remembered the warmth of his smile, the way those dark eyes drank him in, and if he died then he at least would die seeing him one more time even if it was just in his head.

except he didn’t die, he survived it all.

he knew they didn't have much time together out here right now because at any second his boss could come tell him he's taking too long or selim's company could come looking for him and this would look a bit odd to anyone stumbling upon them. he turns to look at the other man again, “i close the bar tonight." fatih takes one more drag of his smoke before flicking the rest of the cigarette in a random direction. his voice softens a bit, as does his gaze, "look..if i had known you came here i would've never taken the position here. i can't pretend to know where to start with things, but i know that standing out here isn't the way to go about it. and i know that neither of us currently has the time to stand here and properly talk. you have your company, that's probably wondering where the hell you've gone by now, and i should probably get back to tending the bar." he paused, "consider perhaps lingering a bit after closing. we can talk then. properly."

Raising to full height, he wipes his mouth with his sleeve and tries his best to regain some of his composure, even with Fatih's voice cutting through the almost-silence like a knife. For a long time, Selim grieved him as if he'd lost him to death; his cologne, still lingering on their sheets, had deterred him from washing them; catching glimpses of other men who looked like him in public sent his heart into chaos; he'd break down into tears in the middle of the kitchen upon the realization that muscle memory had set places for two; and even though he had nightmares of him, he found himself wanting his consolation every time. During the trial is when the truth hit him square in the face; his husband was in jail, not dead - he was in jail for murder. That's when the grief for the families that still could not lay their loved ones to rest replaced any thought of Fatih Williams. He set out to find them, mulled over countless case files, ledgers, personal histories, and one by one, he started uncovering things that could help him reconcile the guilt that he felt for not catching on sooner. The man's cold, almost mocking tone hurts. However, solidifies one thing in his mind; he had never given a damn about him. Because as he stands there, all he can think of is how much he wants to apologize, to ask him if he was okay, to make sure that nobody had hurt him in there; to know the true extent of how his actions had hurt him. This realization is what steels him.

He nods, his face screwed up in a mixture of pain and complete acceptance of his lack of remorse; of his lack of care for him. "My husband," Selim whispers despite the way his lip trembles. "the murderer, doesn't want any trouble?" Disbelief tangles in his words, breathed out rather than spoken. "Forgive me for not taking you at your word." Although he wants to lash him with every harsh thought he'd had in the last five years, he wasn't that man anymore. "I know you've forgotten this but I'm an FBI agent, Mr. Williams. I get notifications of releases all the time - you were sentenced to life but here you are, prepared, and here I am, unprepared. Puppet master still pulling the strings? Or did your dad pay off another judge?"

[fatihwillms]

at selim’s initial reaction fatih did not let his facial expression falter, keeping that sweet smile plastered on his face. he would let the other man be the one to make a spectacle of things if that’s how it was going to go down, fatih could certainly not afford such a thing. had the man not gotten a notification of his release? fatih was almost certain he would’ve, but what did he know? apparently, nothing. and he watched very casually as selim excuses himself, watched as he made his way out of the bar. he gives a little shrug so as not to seem suspicious to the woman selim was with before taking her order and even having a few laughs with her in the meantime. in the back of his mind, however, he was calculating an exit to follow the man.

after a moment, once his customers were taken care of, he excused himself for a moment. after getting permission, he steps outside for a smoke break. fatih grabs his jacket, phone, the pack of smokes with his lighter tucked into it was snug in his jacket pocket. he steps out into the cool (polluted) air of new york city. feet hit the wet concrete, easily finding their way towards selim. he spots him not too far from the bar, hunched over, throwing up whatever contents were in his stomach. fatih sighed, pulled out a smoke, and calmly walked over him.

he waited for a moment, letting the noise of the city fill in the air around them. patience had been something he had become accustomed to while he had been locked away, even though he had always been a patient person to begin with. as he stood and let the other gather himself fatih let himself take selim in entirely. he really could not say he knew who this person in front of him was, realizing then just how much he could not recognize who the man before him was. that little piece of him that realized this probability broke him a bit. from the glimpse he caught inside the bar before their gazes met it looked as if the other had completely moved on, living a happier life now, it was clear that fatih no longer held a place in selim's life. in a way....maybe he never belonged.

he silently reminded himself he wasn’t that person anymore, the person who had wanted to be part of selim's life, and he took a drag of his smoke as he let that feeling settle. fatih watched in silent concern as selim tried to gather himself, forcing himself to not offer assistance. "i'm not looking for trouble," fatih reassures, "i didn't mean to fuckin' startle you into a panic attack. jesus." he shook his head, taking another drag of his smoke. "i didn't think you'd be so unprepared mentally for this moment. you had to have known it was coming. did you not get any notification of my release?" he wanted to add something else, but he wasn't sure what.

In the middle of April, as the street lamps come on and the sprinkle of spring rain covers the pave in a vibrant sheen, the behavioural analysis unit led by a woman wearing a triumphant smile approach the outside of a familiar bar. With rarely anything to celebrate, finding a victim, war-torn and scared, but alive, was a call for it. Her hands fall on the shoulders of a taller man with dark eyes and similarly coloured hair declaring quietly to his ear 'Welcome back, Adabaşı' as if she'd known that asking him to consult on the case after being placed on desk duty for so long would somehow give them both a win. Five years. He'd spent the majority of five years cataloging evidence, collecting documents, and digitizing lists, only being called out when they were short on agents or needed a last minute fill-in. He'd found his purpose in working with NCMEC and other non-profits, was starting to get comfortable being behind the scenes, but to be reinstated? It makes him feel normal; no longer did his ex-husband's ghost haunt his mind, his life, and more specifically, his heart. He could be free now. Or so he thought, anyway. Because when he looks up at the sound of a voice in greeting, the ghost of his ex-husband is right there, standing in front of him in the form of the bartender. From bashful laughter to complete stillness, Selim's dark eyes lock with Fatih's. For a moment, he believes that he's in another one of his nightmares; one where Fatih would plunge something sharp into his abdomen and he would wake up screaming, finding himself in the bathroom at 3:21 in the morning, his head hung over the wastebasket and his sobs so loud that it startled Simba and Marty downstairs. The reality is much, much worse. It starts as a shake of his hands, then his knees wobble and he excuses himself, taking his phone out of his pocket and immediately scrolls through his email. Feb 27th, 2025 - fwd: selimadabasi@fbi.gov : notification of release... 'Not enough evidence'; 'failure to produce remains'; 'change of ruling'; The agent nearly drops it, his phone, as he becomes aware that he can't breathe and his vision blurs. For the first time in a long time, the feeling of being underwater isn't pleasant and rose-coloured, accompanied by the warm hands of a safe man, it's harsh, nauseating, and he feels suffocated.

Selim's free hand finds his stomach as it sours; a pain so sharp that it takes what little breath he still had away from him strikes in his left shoulder and despite the cool air that brushes his face, he finds himself spilling his dinner onto the pave like a drunkard who couldn't handle his alcohol. It's the focus it takes for him to not faint that takes his attention away from the fact that someone stood behind him now. He doesn't notice him standing behind him, Fatih Williams, the man who had once consoled his demons, now partying with them instead.