The Neighbour [4.6]
Masterlist
A/N: Christ on a crutch, here we are!! Thank you again to everyone for your patience! It was so tough writing a good conclusion to Eva's journey and over all I'm very happy with this! And I think considering that we're about to enter into another new Palaye era speaks volumes to this transition. Thank so much again for your patience! Happy reading!
Warnings: some emotional angst, fluffy reunion, Happy American Thanksgiving to those who celebrate
--
Thanksgiving was rarely ever a grand, extravagant affair in the Kropp family; nonetheless, subtle nuances from the previous year's celebration were easily discernible. Their once exuberant friends-giving festivity now found a cozy haven within the confines of Remington and Emerson's dining room. The smells of warm spices and gravy wafted through the air, a mouth-watering promise for what was to come. A select few friends exchanged shared, delectable side dishes amid clouded conversations, all the while Sebastian was attempting to carve up the turkey in the kitchen. He had only uttered a few cuss words so Remington figured it was going well enough.
He was only partially listening to Caity's conversation with his mom, catching up on work endeavours and whatever plans they may've had for Christmas. However, Remington couldn't help but keep glancing at his phone, once, twice, his mind racing as he wondered where Eva could've been. She told him she'd call him before their own Thanksgiving dinner, though he noted how quiet she'd been since the latest update on her mother's health. He wondered if he should just say fuck it and call her himself, though he'd panic before he could, assuring him that she probably just needed her space. She was supposed to be home in a day, and it felt like it couldn't come fast enough.
"Earth to Remington!" Caity waved her hand in front of his face and he instantly snapped out of his trance, “Copy if you read us,”
"What was that?" Remington asked.
"What do you want for Christmas, doofus," Caity asked, holding back a chuckle, "C'mon! You've been so quiet all night! I know we're still pandemic-struck but still!"
Stephanie simpered, "He's missing Eva, that's all,"
"Mom," Remington grumbled, "That makes me sound like a whiney pre-teen,"
"Well, you're certainly moping around like one," she replied, "Why don't you go help Sebastian?"
"Mom, he's supposed to be slicing turkey, not me," he replied.
Caity simply just rolled her eyes, "Oh, c'mon Remi! He's not gonna do that. Not with witnesses around, anyway," she joked.
"Speaking of your brothers, where's Emerson?" Stephanie turned her head, glancing around the room.
"Probably seeking refuge in his hobbit hole," Michael said as he passed by, crunching on a cracker with slathered in artichoke dip, "Great dip by the way, Stephanie,"
"Thank you Michael!" she beamed back.
None on them were the wiser to Emerson curled up on the stairs, sketching away in his notebook and far away from the camaraderie in the kitchen. He had Pluto nestled beside him, his leg still wrapped in the blue cast, though he was unbothered as he snored away beside the youngest brother. Emerson would pause between pen strokes to give the tabby an affectionate head pat, he figured this was the coziest the cat had ever been in the time he'd known him.
Emerson's train of thought was broken suddenly when the doorbell echoed through the hall, and his heavy eyes glanced up to the front door. Pluto perked up as well, raising his head and his ears sprung up. Emerson glanced over the railing towards the crowd, calling out.
"Hey! There's someone at the door!" though to no surprise, nobody could hear him. He figured he could've answered the door himself, but he was already comfortable in his spot and he didn't want to disturb Pluto, "Remington! Sebastian! Michael!" and still, no one could hear him.
And so, in true Emerson fashion, he whipped out his phone and began to type...
Remington had just finished pouring himself a glass of wine when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, whipping it out faster than a gunslinger in the west. However, he was dismayed when he saw Emerson's text:
Someone's at the door
With an eye roll, Remington texted back.
Where are you?
Sitting on the stairs
So why don't you go answer the door?
Because I don't want to disturb the cat
The cat with a broken leg, mind you...
It's sprained, not broken
Same difference
Remington huffed, setting down his wine glass and begrudgingly heading for the front door. Sure enough, he passed his little brother on the stairs, the tabby cat nestled against his legs. He glanced between him and the front door.
"You really couldn't make the ten foot walk to open the door?" he asked, tone verging on bitterness.
Emerson shrugged back, "Would you disturb this innocent child?" he pointed to Pluto with his pen, "Besides, our visitor is probably catching a cold out there,"
"They'd be catching less of one if you just got proactive," he muttered back, "Did we invite anybody else?"
"I don't think so," Emerson replied, "Maybe it's Amazon?"
Remington reached for the door knob, "I didn't order anything..."
He wrenched the door open, steeling himself to welcome a potential unexpected visitor or perhaps discover a package-bearing Amazon delivery person. Yet, astonishment washed over him as his eyes widened in disbelief at the sight of Eva standing on his stoop, luggage in tow behind her.
"-- Eva!?" his voice quivered slightly, yet the edges of his mouth tugged upward in a smile tinged with incredulity.
She locked her left right ankle in front of her left, smiling with giddy and a twinkle in her eye, "... surprise!" she half-sang, half-giggled.
Remington scooped her up in his arms without a second thought, hugging her tightly to his chest, inhaling her vanilla essence. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, her cold nose pressed to his skin but quite frankly he couldn't care. He missed her so damn much.
"I thought you weren't coming home until tomorrow?" he murmured, relief laced in his voice nonetheless.
"I was, but I just... I needed to come home," she replied, "I missed you so much,"
"Fuck me, I missed you more," he kissed her, aching for the comforting familiarity of her chapstick's faint sweetness, the pillowy softness of those lips he could've spent hours kissing. Eva wound her arms around his neck and pulled him to her with an intensity that surpassed mere physical proximity, reveling in the sanctuary of his embrace.
"Eva?" Emerson's voice suddenly rattled from behind them. The couple broke apart and glanced over, Remington was none too surprised to see Emerson hadn't bothered to move from his spot on the stairs. That didn't stop him from craning his neck like a giraffe to try and see what was happening.
"He's still not getting up!" Remington shook his head as he grumbled.
Eva tittered softly, "Hi Emerson,"
"How did you get a flight so fast?" he asked.
She shrugged, stepping aside as Remington moved to grab her luggage from out of the cold, "My sister's boyfriend has a cousin who works for the airline, turns out," she replied, "... I hope you guys don't mind having one more dinner guest?"
"Are you kidding me?" Emerson gawked back, "I'm willing to sacrifice Sebastian in order to make space for you myself. Right Pluto?" he glanced down at the tabby.
Pluto finally made the move from the stairs, slinking down the marble and hobbling over to his master. Eva was nevertheless quite concerned when she noticed the bright blue cast on his leg.
"What the -- Pluto!" she was careful as she picked him, cradling the big baby in her arms as she turned to Remington, "What happened?"
Remington smiled sheepishly, glancing between her and the cat as he nervously puffed his cheeks, "Ah... well, he -- uh... Emerson?"
"Nope, you're on your own here," the youngest brother muttered.
"Remington..." Eva stared up up at him, anxiously awaiting some sort of explanation.
Remington sighed, "He... it's a long story but basically your neighbour is insane and he fell off your balcony. But we rushed him to the vet as fast as we could!"
"I've never seen Sebastian drive that fast," Emerson tacked on.
Eva glowered at her tabby, who was none the wiser as he cuddled into her shoulder, his claws gripping tightly to her jacket, "Jesus Christ. Why didn't you call me?" she asked the brothers.
"Because you had so much you were dealing with and we didn't want to worry you," Remington replied, remorseful and uneasy, "But I should've called you. That's on me, I'm sorry,"
Eva shook her head, "You're damn right you should've! I have pet insurance!" she exclaimed, "I could've had the bill covered!"
Remington simpered, "Honestly Eva, don't worry about the bill," one hand moved to her waist and the other rubbed between Pluto's ears, "As long as Pluto's still running around, I couldn't care less,"
Eva's apprehension settled as she relaxed in his embrace, cuddling the cat closer to her chest, "You god damn chaotic mess of fur; I'm seriously gonna' get you a bell!"
"Wouldn't be the worst idea," Emerson said, finally making the move to stand, "C'mon, I'm hungry," and he started for the dining room, notebook still tucked under his arm. Remington simply shook his head as he walked off.
"You know, he just watched while Sebastian yelled at me about peeling carrots. Like -- it's not hard to peel carrots!" he said.
Eva shook her head with a gentle laugh, pressing up on her toes to press another kiss to his cheek, "I'm sure you did just fine. It smells amazing in here,"
"That's mom's artichoke dip,"
She followed Remington into the dining room, still holding Pluto in her arms as they joined their friends. Shy was the first to rise from her seat, rushing over to envelop Eva in a tight hug. Meanwhile, Sebastian poked his head out from the kitchen, curious about the sudden commotion. Eva wasn't surprised to see his apron draped over his stylish pinstripe suit underneath. Chairs were shifted, a new place setting was prepared, and despite Eva's offer to assist, Larissa and Stephanie insisted that she sit back and relax.
The turkey was brought out soon enough, accompanied by a spread of sumptuous sides and a delicious bottle of wine. The table was alive with chatter: Michael animatedly discussing the band's latest video plans, Caity and Hayden enthusiastically sharing their upcoming Christmas trip itinerary. Amidst it all, questions came Eva's way—about her mother, her early return home, her fatigue, and more. Yet, in that moment, Eva couldn't have felt happier. She basked in the warmth of the gathering, feeling entirely at ease, all traces of anxiety vanishing with Remington's arm draped casually across her shoulders.
Only a couple hours later the house was emptied, plates were partially washed and thrown hastily in the dishwasher, any leftovers were packed up and sent home with friends. And because he had shown the least amount of effort in prep, the brothers decided it was Emerson's job to tidy up the table. Remington meanwhile had hauled Eva's bag upstairs, much to her protests that she could do it herself but he remained insistent; he was just so happy to have her home.
Her bag was barely unzipped before Remington threw himself on the bed, chin cupped in his hand as he watched her begin to unpack. There were a plethora of questions burning in his brain.
"Soooo..." he trailed.
"So?" Eva queried.
"Why are you home early?" he asked, "I didn't want to pile on at dinner but..."
Eva placed down the shirts she was about to pull out, sighing as she took a seat on the bed, "Well... you want the long story or the short story?"
He simply shook his head, "Whatever you want to share, where ever you wanna' start,"
She shifted over so she could lay beside him, her hands coming to rest over her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling, "Well... we got a call from the hospital Friday morning..."
Eva's heart dropped when she saw the caller ID flash for the hospital, nevertheless she picked up the call and brought the speaker to her ear, hesitating before she answered, "H-Hello... yes, that's me..."
Magda, Greg, and Theo watched silently as Eva turned her back, her voice coming to a hushed octave. Impatient as ever though, the oldest sister turned to her brothers, "What the hell is going on now?" she asked, tone verging on exasperation.
Greg scoffed back, "Well, in not so many words, Eva's not a match for mom's transfer. But someone else is," he replied.
Magda glowered at him, "And are we waiting for a 90s soap-opera style dramatic pause, or...?"
"She's seeing someone else," Theo admitted, "I guess you guys already knew that -- but he stepped up as a potential donor..."
Magda's eyes went wide, "-- No... Greg!" she turned to him, "Please don't tell me..."
Greg nodded solemnly, "He's a perfect match for the kidney. They're gonna have him prepped this week, after the holiday," he confirmed.
At that, Eva got off the phone with a simple, "Alright, thank you..." and she turned to her siblings. She felt her hands shaking, her heart racing as though she'd had drank coffee on an empty stomach and the caffeine was just beginning to kick in. This whole journey, all of this fighting and tiptoeing and pillage of more trauma had all in turn been for nothing.
"Whelp, she struck again," Magda sighed with a head shake, "Crazy old battle axe did it again..."
Greg steeled himself against the wall, utter defeat overcoming his face, "So, is Julien asking dad for the number of his divorce attorney, or..."
"He has someone," Theo admitted, his eyes averted to the ground, "He said he's always kind of suspected something was up,"
Magda scoffed, "Not to be a downer but as the saying goes: if they cheat with you, they cheat --"
"Mags!" Greg stopped her with a swift glare, nodding his head to their younger sister. Eva was just frozen on the spot, dark blue eyes glazed over as she stared off into space. There was partial relief overwhelming her, she didn't have to go under the knife after all. However, so much had happened in three days, so much mental strain and it had finally taken its toll on her.
"Eva?" Magda stood up and approached her slowly, picking off the reflection of tears brimming, "Eves, are you okay?"
Eva didn't -- couldn't respond. For once in her life she was at a complete loss for words; and yet she had so many thoughts scratching in her brain, so much jumbled jargon to spew out in a twisted heap of nerves and fear but all she could do was give a silent nod, her eyes clamped shut in a futile attempt to stop herself from crying.
Magda caught her just before the dam burst, holding her tightly as the first few sniffles and sobs left her. The two sisters held each other tightly, the eldest not uttering a word as she just held her, rubbing her back as she cooed softly, "It's okay honey, let it out. It's okay,"
Theo couldn't stand to watch anymore, stepping forward to throw his arms around the pair. Greg followed suit, a solemn scene in the antiquated kitchen with the despair finally being lifted from all of them. Eva had so much anger she was still holding on to, but in this moment she couldn't care less. This mess was finally over, tremendously and brutally over, and all she wanted now was to go home...
"... we didn't really plan for a proper Thanksgiving, so we kind of threw some stuff together last night and called it a day," she finished off, her gaze having never left the ceiling, "And Magda's boyfriend got me a last-minute ticket this morning. I was on the second standby out of town,"
Remington stayed beside her the entire time, listening intently, his mind blown at the full revelation of Eva's trip. He was relieved on the one hand knowing she wouldn't have to go under the knife after all, on the other hand he could see how such a plot twist had rattled her, dredging up old feelings she was sure she didn't have to deal with again.
"Holy fuck..." he gaped in awe, "She just threw away her family like that? No explanation, no nothing?"
"Straight to the calculating point, it's her pattern," she sighed, chuckling with pity, "It's classic: she'll let him play as her white knight until she gets bored and finds someone else to pull into her web. She's never gonna' stop, Rem,"
"And that's not your problem," he cuddled up beside her, gently drawing his arm around her body, enfolding her in the embrace of his chest, "I'm so sorry, Eva,"
"Why?" she glanced up at him.
"Because, you went over there with the best intentions and it just -- I just don't want this to affect you more then it already has. I'm worried, is all," he explained.
"I'm okay, Remington," she turned over onto her side, coming nose-to-nose with him, "I'm okay, I swear to you. I'm a little worried about Theo, but Greg assured me he's gonna keep an eye on him. He's done nothing to deserve any of this,"
"Neither have you. I'm proud of you, though," he said.
"Why?"
"You made up with your sister. That's not nothing, believe me," he chuckled at the end, "And you and Greg got closer, and you gaped bridges with Theo and his dad, that's not nothing,"
Eva simpered quietly, "I think you meant 'mend bridges'? 'To bridge a gap' means having the qualities of two different groups or things or... stuff,"
All Remington could do was laugh, at her train of thought, at the sleepy slur of her voice, how her lips curled when she knew she was correcting him but she tried to play it off as no big deal. Words alone couldn't express how much he missed this girl, and how it would be a long damn time before he spent such time away from her again.
"There's my girl," he awed, pressing kisses to her cheeks and her nose, "I missed you so fucking much,"
"I missed you, too," Eva giggled, squirming in his arms but she made no move to push him away; she was just so happy to be home again. She sighed when he let up, pushing loose locks of blonde hair behind his ears, "Do you think you're ever gonna' cut your hair?" she asked curiously, "Not that I don't love this look on you,"
Remington scoffed, "It is getting a liiiiittle long," he admitted, "You miss my spikes?"
"Yeah! They're so quintessentially you!" she replied, "But then there's so many more layers to you than just your hair. I love every side of you,"
With no hesitation he buried his face in the crook of her neck, overwhelmed in her familiar scent, pressing soft kisses to her pulse point as she wrapped her arms around him, "You're so fucking cute. I love you so much," he mumbled.
Eva smirked back, her fingers threading through his hair the way she knew he melted at, "Mmm, I think I love you more," she said.
"Not possible," he squeezed her tighter to him to make his point.
"I don't know about that," she teased, "You're only the greatest thing that happened to me in my life, so..."
Remington couldn't keep the beaming smile off of his face, shifting up so they were at eye-level with each other. His next words spilled out before his brain could catch up, impulsively escaping from his lips:
"I'm gonna' marry you one day,"
To say Eva was a little taken aback was an understatement, "What?" it took her another minute to process what he'd just said to her.
Remington chuckled bashfully, "Not like -- now or anything. But one day down the line... when you're least expecting it, I'm gonna' ask you to marry me," he decided.
"Oh really?" Eva cocked a brow, resisting the urge to bite her lip, "And you just assume that I'm gonna' say yes?"
"Of course I do," with tender affection, Remington traced small circles under Eva's sweatshirt, his touch light and comforting. She turned towards him, a soft smile gracing her lips, and met his gaze with a warmth that spoke volumes, "I love you. I'm a way better person everyday because of you. You are every reason, every hope, every dream I've ever had and no matter where we go in the future, I will always be yours," he brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing the soft skin as though she were porcelain, "And you, my darling, will always be mine,"
Earlier that day, Eva had sworn to herself she wouldn't cry upon her return. Yet, despite her determination, she couldn't stifle the swell in her chest, the insistent pull at her tear ducts, nor the overpowering wave of affection she had for Remington. Each word he spoke felt like a lifeline, flowing from his lips in his husky voice, and she clung to them fervently.
"Oh my God," her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to bury her face in the sheets, "I take it back: that's the most romantic thing I've ever heard you say,"
Remington's expression softened, a gentle smile gracing his lips, "Better than William Blake?"
"So much better,"
Closing the distance between them, Remington reached out to brush a stray tear from Eva's cheek. His touch was tender, his fingers lingering against her skin as if tracing the delicate contours of her emotions.
Their connection intensified in the silence that followed, a subtle electricity lingering between them. Remington gently tucked a loose strand of Eva's hair behind her ear, his touch a tender gesture filled with unspoken affection.
Eva's gaze met Remington's, a softness in her eyes that spoke volumes. In that moment, amidst the quiet intimacy of his -- their bedroom, they shared an unspoken understanding, each wordless glance conveying a depth of emotion that transcended spoken language.
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Cold - Emerson Barrett fan fiction (Spooktober Writing Challenge)
It was unseasonably cold, even for October.
Even as a vampire, and therefore usually impervious to temperature, Emerson was feeling the chill in the air. He stayed inside the house as much as possible, and tried to keep himself either in his bedroom or the family parlour, where there was always a fire roaring in the fireplace.
Sebastian and Remington were much the same - Sebastian remaining in bed with his newly-turned wife, and Remington skulking around wrapped in at least one blanket on top of his usual clothes.
Truth be told, it was an idea Emerson was about to steal for his own use.
He didn’t care about how many strange looks Remington received from the staff, or how many strange looks he would receive if he were to take up the same practice. It was almost unbearably cold - and only getting worse.
At night, more snow blanketed the ground. Each morning, there was a thicker layer of frost on the windows. Every time Emerson emerged from his bed, the air felt even more frigid.
It was miserable, and Emerson hated it.
Because on top of everything else, it was getting harder and harder to feed. No-one wanted to come to a party in this weather, and there was only so much four vampires could feed on the same household, even with multiple members of staff on hand to drink from - especially when one of those vampires was newly-turned and only watched over by her adoring husband, who would never, ever want to upset his wife.
Emerson was happy for Sebastian and Larissa, he truly was, but if they killed another maid or scullery boy…Emerson was going to be pissed.
And at a loss for how to explain a third mysterious death.
Two was more than enough, and most of the staff were already on edge from an unfortunate combination of fear and the cold - it wouldn’t take much to turn them into an angry mob, and prompt them to come after Emerson, Remington, Sebastian, and Larissa.
Of course, the four of them would likely be fine; there wasn’t a lot two dozen humans could do to four healthy vampires, but Emerson didn’t want to turn on the staff.
Or, perhaps more accurately, Emerson didn’t want to turn on a specific member of the staff.
“Good morning, Miss Francis.”
Miss Francis, Cora, one of the new maids, turned to Emerson with a polite smile: “Good morning, Mr Kropp.”
Emerson smiled as Cora crossed the room to where he was sitting in front of the fireplace with a silver tea tray balanced carefully in her hands.
Like most of the other women in the house, she had taken to wearing as many layers as possible - her nightdress under her summer uniform under her winter uniform, but despite the amount of clothing she was wearing, he was still hit with the scent of lemon soap, clean cotton, and something that was indescribably her.
It had taken him a while to not be stunned by Cora whenever she came into a room - not just because of her scent, but because of her…everything. His brothers may laugh at her inarticulateness, but Emerson didn’t care; he was stunned by everything about May, and he didn’t care what anyone had to say about it.
Or he wouldn’t, if he was actually brave enough to ever speak to anyone about his infatuation.
He wasn’t, and was sure he wouldn’t ever be, especially not to Cora herself. Despite what people may think of him - the artist, the eccentric, the addict - Emerson was not stupid: he was very aware of the power imbalance between himself and Cora: he was her employer, and a creature from her nightmares, and she was a young human who admitted herself that she didn’t have much of a life outside of her work.
Emerson might be what many people called a monster, but would never want to abuse his position of power over Cora, or put her in a situation where she was uncomfortable. He was a vampire, not a bastard.
“Would you like me to pour you some tea, Mr. Kropp?” Cora asked, putting the tea tray on the low table in front of the sofa he was sitting on.
“Yes, thank you Miss Francis.”
Cora smiled, and busied herself with pouring a cup of tea for Emerson.
Emerson pretended to be absorbed by the book in his hands, but the whole time he watched Cora, fascinated with her every action, just as he always was.
Normally it was because he was just fascinated with her in general, but today he couldn’t help but see the faint trembling of her hands, the frighteningly pale ends of her fingers compared to their usual warm tone.
A second more inspection, and he saw the shivering racking her whole body, even with all her clothes, and the drawn expression that she was trying to hide under her usual polite smile.
Emerson had been thinking of how cold he was, even as a vampire who was somewhat immune to temperatures, but he hadn’t thought for a second how the humans in the house had been handling the sudden drop in temperatures - especially when they had no choice but to be away from the warmth of fires and extra blankets.
Guilt and shame brought a lump to his throat - and before he could even think he had opened his mouth and started speaking: “Would you join me for a cup, Miss Ferguson?”
Cora looked up: stunned: “Excuse me, Mr Kropp?”
“I asked if you would like to join me for some tea,” Emerson repeated, deciding that as he’d already potentially crossed a line, he may as well be clear about it…and equally clear that it was completely her choice: “And only if you want to, of course. Or you could take some tea with you. I just noticed that you appeared to be cold and thought some tea may serve to warm you. I don’t mean to be untoward, please do not think you must tread lightly here, if you do not want to join me then - ”
“I’d be very happy to have tea with you, Mr Kropp.” Cora gently interrupted, smiling.
Emerson, deciding that he’d spoken quite enough and certainly made a fool of himself, silently shifted over on the sofa to create some room for Cora as she made up a second cup of tea.
She sat next to him when he gestured to the space he’d created, and even with the distance between them, Emerson was painfully aware of the shivers still coursing through Cora’s body. He wanted to ignore it, sure that it would ease after a few moments of the fire and some tea…but he couldn’t.
“Would you…” he swallowed his nerves and stared down into his tea cup, finding himself unable to look at Cora as she looked at him: “...would you like a blanket?”
Cora was silent for a few seconds.
Emerson didn’t blame her; he was being strange. He knew he was being strange, but he…he didn’t know how he could help her without behaving oddly. It wasn’t normal for someone in his position to try and help someone in Cora’s position - but he couldn’t not try to help her.
He might appear strange. But he’d rather she think him mad and be warm than stick to status quo and leave her cold.
Eventually, Cora did reply, her voice soft and uncertain: “I would, thank you.”
Desperate to end this awkwardness, Emerson hurried to wrap a blanket over Cora’s shoulders…and found himself with his arm (and the blanket) wrapped around her.
He knew instantly he should move away…but he didn’t…and neither did Cora.
They looked at each other for a few long moments, before Cora nervously turned back to her tea…and leaned into Emerson’s side.
A stronger man would have subtly leaned away: politely rejecting Cora and remembering his desire to not put Cora in an awkward situation, no matter how much he himself may enjoy that situation.
But Emerson was not a strong man.
Emerson genuinely did not want to make Cora uncomfortable, not in any way, but he couldn’t bring himself to reject her. He didn’t care if this was just an attempt on her part to warm herself up, he would take any form of affection she had to offer him, for however long she was willing to offer it.
And he’d enjoy every second.
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