#and then my dad went into the hospital and almost died

[chicgeekgirl89]

Rating: K Summary: T.K. is eager to return to the firehouse for his first shift post-icy pond coma. He's feeling great, excited, and ready for anything. What he doesn't expect is a surprise visit from a lonely Carlos in the middle of the night. A/N: This one has been sitting for a while and I figured I should probably release it before we FINALLY get some new material to work with this week!!

Read on AO3

“Did you pack extra socks?”

“Yes.”

“Your vitamins? Your hoodie?”

“Yes, Carlos.”

“I put an extra blanket for you in a bag by the door, make sure you grab it on your way out.”

“Okay, this is starting to feel more like my first day of Kindergarten than my first day back at work,” T.K. chuckles. 

Carlos shifts uncomfortably and huffs. “I just want to make sure you have everything you need.”

T.K. puts a hand on his chest, steadying him. “I’m going to the firehouse. Not the moon. If I need something you can bring it to me. It’s twelve hours Carlos. One overnight shift. I’ll be okay.”

“I still think maybe you should have waited until there was a day shift available,” Carlos insists. “You need your sleep.”

“Babe, I want to go back. I need to go back. If I sit around here for much longer I’m going to go crazy,” T.K. says gently. “The doctors cleared me, my dad cleared me, Tommy cleared me. I’m good to go.”

“Nobody asked me if I cleared you,” Carlos grumbles low, almost as if he doesn’t mean for T.K. to hear it. 

T.K.’s mouth twists into a half smile that he tries to suppress. Carlos has been extremely attentive and serious about T.K.’s recovery care since coming home from the hospital. There have been schedules and spreadsheets and alarm reminders about medications and appointments. T.K. has been plied with so much of Andrea’s soup that it feels like his eyeballs could float.

He still tires a little quicker than normal, especially toward the end of the day, and he hasn’t quite shaken off the permanent chill that ate its way into his bones in that frozen pond, but he feels almost back to one hundred percent. And he’s definitely well enough to get through one shift. 

“I will be okay,” T.K. promises him. “If anything feels off I’ll tell Tommy and come right home.”

Carlos eyes him, still not convinced. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

His phone buzzes and he checks it. “Nancy’s here. I’ll see you in a few hours. You’ll barely even know I’m gone.”

“Be safe,” Carlos says. 

It was their standard standard farewell before. Before the fire and the breakup and the ice.

“I will,” T.K. responds. The words have an odd weight in his chest. The last time he went to work they were broken up. He couldn’t promise Carlos that he would be safe, and he wasn’t. He fell through a frozen pond and died and woke up to a second chance with the love of his life.

It feels good to be able to make that promise again.

“Love you,” he says, pecking Carlos on the lips as he shoulders his work bag.

“Love you too,” Carlos says. “Ah! Blanket!” he calls as T.K. reaches for the doorknob.

T.K. accepts the bag from him. “Thanks Mom.”

Carlos rolls his eyes, but there’s a fond, slightly embarrassed smile on his lips. “Shut up.”

T.K. takes the elevator down to the ground floor and exits out the front doors to where Nancy is parked and waiting. “Aw yeah!!” she yells out the car window. “Get in loser! We’re going to work!”

T.K. throws his bag giddily into the back seat and buckles his seatbelt. “Freedoooom!!” he crows happily as she puts it into gear.

“Oh, yeah, like it’s been so hard for you recovering with Carlos catering to your every whim,” Nancy teases. 

She’s not wrong; he has no complaints. Carlos has been with him as much as possible for the last few weeks, rebuilding the fractured splinters of their relationship into something that finally feels solid again. T.K.’s heart is nearly as recovered as his body. There have been painful moments, lots of tears, anger, and some difficult confessions, but already T.K. feels stronger for it. The break up was awful, and part of him still hates himself for his role in it, but it almost feels worth it to be where they are now. 

“So catch me up on the gossip,” T.K. says as they drive. “What’s the firehouse tea?”

“Mm! Yes! God, I missed you,” Nancy says fervently. “Okay. Someone froze Paul’s boxers last week and he’s still so mad about it. He thinks it was Mateo.”

“And was it?”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ and smiles wickedly. “It was me and Marj.”

“Nice.” T.K. sinks into the seat, already feeling like he’s settling back into normal. “What else?”

“Torbin’s girlfriend left him. Again,” she says. “And your dad found the decoy candy stash, but the real one is still safe.”

“Third cabinet from the left behind the spare hoses?”

“You know it.”

“Are there Sour Patch Kids?”

She takes her eyes off the road for a second to smile at him. “I restocked them for you as a welcome back gift.”

“Aw, thanks Nance,” he says, heart warming at her kindness. 

The entire 126 has stepped in a major way over the last few weeks. The fridge in the loft hasn’t been empty of food once, everyone has stopped by to check on him, and the group text thread has been full of encouraging and silly texts. It had hurt to watch them all get back to work once the station opened; he’d been able to attend the ceremony but hadn’t been cleared for duty yet. But tonight they will finally be all together again.

When they arrive the house is quiet. There’s no flurry of activity in the bays; everything is oddly silent and dark. 

“What’s going on?” T.K. asks as they get out of Nancy’s car, nerves fluttering. Have they been shut down again for some reason? They literally just reopened a couple weeks ago, if they’ve been taken out of service already….

The lights flick on and there’s a cacophonous shout of “SURPRISE!” as the whole team pops out from behind the engine and the ambulance. There’s a giant banner with “Welcome Back T.K.” on the front of the rig, along with balloons and streamers, and Paul is holding a massive cake.

The grin that splits T.K.’s face is so wide it hurts and he feels tears prick at the corner of his eyes. It’s Marjan who comes to him first, holding out her arms as she runs over for a hug. “Welcome back,” she says warmly and he squeezes her tightly before letting go to catch the next person in line.

Judd claps a hand onto his shoulder. “Good to have you home brother.”

“Thanks,” T.K. says. “And please tell Grace thank you again for all the meals. It’s made our lives so much easier these last couple weeks.”

Even with a newborn in the house, somehow Grace had managed to send over meals to make sure Carlos and T.K. didn’t starve during his convalescence. 

“Yeah between you and Paul she’s been basically running a catering company out of our kitchen,” Judd says. “Gotta make sure everybody’s taken care of. But you’re cut off now,” he announces loudly. “Time for y’all to do your own cookin’ again.”

“Bro, I can’t believe you didn’t even lose any toes or anything,” Mateo says when it’s his turn. His hug is accompanied by a back slap that chokes the breath out of T.K. for a second. “I mean it’s good, but like, that would have been pretty gnarly.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I kept all my appendages,” T.K. says. “I find them pretty essential.”

“Still, would have been a cool story,” Mateo says a little wistfully.

“Mateo his story is already plenty cool,” Paul says. “In fact, it’s so cool, it’s almost frozen solid. And that is why we got you this cake.”

He holds it up for T.K.’s inspection and T.K. bursts into laughter. It’s got Frozen characters all over it and reads “The Cold Never Bothered T.K. Anyway.” 

“It’s an ice cream cake,” Paul says proudly, like this is the greatest collective idea they’ve ever had.

“I love it,” T.K. says. “It’s perfect.”

“Okay, okay, let the adults have a turn,” Tommy says, breaking through the crowd and pulling T.K. into a warm, soft hug. “Welcome back T.K. It’s so good to see you well.”

T.K. hugs her back, a little extra tight. He’s very aware that he’s not the only one who lived through several days of trauma because of that pond. This woman’s hands saved his life, kept his heart beating long enough for help to arrive. Even when the question of whether he’d live had been answered, there was still uncertainty about how functional he would be. That he’s back at work like nothing ever happened is astonishing. It’s a triumph for both of them.

“Cap I don’t—“ The words stick in his throat because how do you thank someone for doing what she did?

She pulls back and squeezes his shoulders. “I know baby,” she says softly, eyes looking a little moist. “It’s okay. You’re here. That’s all that matters.”

Tommy looks past him and T.K. turns to find his dad. “C’mere kiddo,” he says warmly and T.K. ducks his head, slightly embarrassed by this display of fatherly affection in front of his team. “Love you,” his dad murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to his hair before patting him sharply on the back. “All right team! Let’s celebrate the 126 being finally, officially back together!”

T.K. takes a photo with the cake to send to Carlos before they cut into it. Paul makes sure T.K. gets the piece with Elsa’s face on it and they all talk and joke and laugh like no time has passed at all.

When the bells go off he feels a thrill go down his spine, excitement tinged with a little bit of nerves. “You ready?” Nancy asks as they climb into the rig.

“You know it,” he says with a grin. “Cap?”

Tommy buckles in. “Let’s roll.”

“Yeah!!! TNT is back in action!” Nancy honks the horn as they roll out of the garage and peal off toward an elderly slip and fall.

It’s a relatively easy call, a good, low stress reintroduction to the job. They drop the woman off at the hospital with a possible concussion and sprained ankle and are on their way back to the station when another call comes in for a fire in a single family home.

They meet up with the rest of the crew at the address, where they find a relatively small, but smoky kitchen fire. They’re not needed beyond basic first aid and are sent to a call for a choking at a restaurant next. 

T.K. is practically buzzing with energy by the time they finally get back to the station an hour later. Some of it is probably sugar from the large piece of cake he downed before they started, but he’s also flying high on the joy of saving people. He’d known he missed the job, but he hadn’t realized quite how much until he’d snapped on his gloves and started taking vitals again. 

He bounces out of the ambulance into the bay, already knowing that he’s not going to sleep at all tonight. Maybe he can persuade Mateo to pull a Mario Kart all nighter with him.

It’s past ten but the rest of the crew is still up, most of them in the showers still trying to get the stench of the kitchen fire off. T.K. is on his way to grab a second piece of cake when he hears Judd call his name from the doorway to the locker room.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Found something that belongs to you,” Judd says, an odd smirk on his face.

“Something that belongs to me?” T.K. wrinkles his nose. He’s barely been back five hours, what could he possibly be missing already? 

As realization dawns he rolls his eyes. “Is this a welcome back prank? What’d you do? Put my keys in jello? Hide a fish in my locker?”

“Nope,” Judd says. “You’d better go check your bunk though. It’s waitin’ for ya.”

His bunk? What the hell? Giving Judd a final suspicious look he heads for the bunk room.  

He enters with caution, aware that this is likely a trap. When his eyes adjust to the darkened lighting he finds Judd was right; there is a familiar lump that most definitely belongs to him curled up in the middle of his bed. T.K.’s heart stutters and he crosses the room in only a few strides, sinking down onto the edge of the mattress.

His hand automatically goes to Carlos’ forehead, fear that his boyfriend has somehow become ill or injured in the hours since he left home at the forefront of his mind. “Babe,” he says worriedly, brushing his fingers across Carlos’ face and down his neck.

Carlos’ eyelids flutter and he blinks up soft, brown, confused eyes at T.K. before quickly pushing up to a sitting position. “Hey,” he says, a little breathless as he tries to recover from his late night nap. 

“Baby, are you okay?” T.K. asks, his fingers still worriedly searching for signs of fever or injury.

“Yeah, yes, I’m fine,” Carlos says, clearing his throat and scooting back so there’s some space between them. 

Relief extinguishes the spike of adrenaline in T.K.’s veins and he relaxes a little as curiosity takes over. “What are you doing here then? Did something happen at home?”

Carlos’ face takes on a slightly evasive look. “No, everything’s fine at the loft.” 

“Then why are you asleep in my bunk?”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I was just waiting for you.” The words are quick, almost defensive.

“Waiting for me?” T.K. frowns. “Did you come all the way over here just to make sure I haven’t passed out or something? Seriously Carlos, we talked about this. I promised I would be careful.”

“No, that’s not—I wasn’t—“ Carlos huffs in frustration and T.K. tries to read the look on his face without success.

“Baby, what is it?”

Carlos looks down at his hands and mumbles something that T.K. doesn’t catch. “What?” he asks, confusion and concern clouding his happy back-to-work buzz.

Carlos sighs and meets his gaze, embarrassment all over his face. “I said, I missed you.”

T.K. softens at these words. “You came all the way over here because you missed me?”

“It’s stupid,” Carlos says, his discomfort at this vulnerable admission written into every line of his body.

“No,” T.K. says, scooching a little closer to him. “No, baby, no. It’s not stupid.”

“It is stupid,” Carlos says. “I’m a grown man. I should be able to spend one night without my boyfriend.”

“It’s okay,” T.K. says with a chuckle. “We’ve spent a lot of time together lately. It’s cute that you got lonely without me.”

“This was dumb, I’m gonna go.” Carlos starts to get up, but T.K. catches his hand. 

“No, stay for a little bit.”

Carlos sinks back down reluctantly. “Isn’t everyone coming up soon? It’s late.”

“They’re still cleaning up downstairs. And Judd knows we’re up here. He’ll probably make them give us a few minutes.”

He grabs Carlos’ arm and pulls it around his waist, scooting backward toward the center of the small mattress and pushing against Carlos’ body.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asks in confusion.

“Come on, snuggle me. You drove all the way over here, might as well get some cuddles to remember me by in our bed tonight.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, come on.” T.K. wiggles his butt invitingly until Carlos slides down and spoons him the way he wants. “See? Better already, right?”

Carlos huffs a laugh against the back of T.K.’s neck. It’s a tight fit, both of them on this twin size firehouse mattress, but they squirm around and manage to find a position that’s comfortable enough.  

T.K. waits, feeling Carlos relax against him as the minutes pass uninterrupted. His own eyes feel a little heavy; it would be so easy to fall asleep like this. Sleeping on the couch at his dad’s for months had been devastatingly lonely. At the time he’d tried to pretend it wasn’t; that he was glad there was no room for Carlos when he laid his head down at night. 

But in the months since, he’s recognized how horribly isolating it was. He’d taken a lot of extra shifts because it was easier to sleep in beds that Carlos had never touched. 

These memories stir a thought. “You haven’t been alone at the loft since I came home from the hospital,” T.K. says softly.

He feels Carlos stiffen a little behind him. “Yeah, I guess that’s right.”

“It must have been hard before, all those nights when I wasn’t there,” T.K. says, focusing on every tiny movement and breath happening behind him. In all their many conversations the last few weeks, they’ve mostly talked about what broke them up in the first place and how to keep it from happening again. Carlos has avoided saying much about the actual time they spent apart. T.K. is pushing at a tender spot, one that Carlos has been loathe to talk about in lieu of “moving on” instead. But his boyfriend is here seeking comfort for a reason and T.K. can’t let him go home without uncovering what it is. 

When Carlos doesn’t speak T.K. pushes a little harder. “I had my dad and Mateo, but you were there all by yourself.”

“We don’t have to talk about this.”

There’s tension in Carlos’ voice and T.K. awkwardly rolls over until they’re facing each other, refusing to back down. “Did you talk to anyone? All those months apart? Have you told anyone how that felt?”

The lines of Carlos’ brow are tight, like he’s struggling to keep his feelings tucked down deep inside of him. “It’s in the past T.K.”

“If it’s in the past, then why are you here?” he asks, keeping his voice gentle.

Carlos swallows, his eyes closing like he’s in pain. There’s a long moment of quiet and T.K. wonders if he’s going to have to let it drop for tonight. But then, “You were gone. There was no one to tell,” Carlos finally says.

That’s what he’d been afraid of. Carlos hadn’t told his family, T.K. already knew that. And he’s far too polite a person to air his grievances to any of their friends, especially since most of them are also T.K.’s colleagues. T.K. is his person. The one he feels safe with. When T.K. walked out of that loft he hadn’t just left Carlos, he’d taken his entire support system with him.

“I’m here. Tell me now,” he says. “Please?”

Carlos’ eyes drop to the third or fourth button down on T.K.’s uniform shirt, the words too difficult to say to his face. “Those nights were awful,” he tells the button. “I would lie in bed, hating myself for pushing you away, furious at you for leaving me. I was—god—I was so lonely, T.K. I wanted you back so damn much it hurt.

He finally lifts his eyes a little and they look haunted, like mentally he’s reliving those awful, dark hours. “I know this isn’t the same. I know you’re just here at work, but sitting there in the quiet tonight, all by myself…”

“It felt like I’d left you all over again,” T.K. finishes for him.

“Yeah, kind of.” His mouth twists and he shifts uncomfortably. “I know this isn’t the same thing. I kept telling myself I’d see you in the morning, but I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stop thinking and I just…I wanted to see you.”

“You can always come see me. If you need that reassurance, I will give it to you.”

T.K. takes Carlos’ hand and kisses it before pressing it over his heart, pounding forcefully with grief over mistakes and lost time beneath his ribs. His other hand he secures on Carlos’ hip, his thumb moving back and forth soothingly. “I am here,” he says firmly. “I am coming home to you. Every day. And every night. From now on. You’re not alone in that loft anymore, Carlos. I might not be there all the time, but I will always want to be. It’s our home. I don’t want it to feel like anything else ever again.”

Carlos gives him a lopsided smile. “Me neither.

“Come here.”

He pulls Carlos into his arms, holding him tightly. The tones go off and Carlos tries to let him go but T.K. tucks him in tighter. “It’s just fire, not us,” he says, feeling slightly guilty that he’s glad his teammates are running back to work because it means no one is going to bother them for awhile. 

They stay curled up together for so long, that T.K. wonders if Carlos is going to go back to sleep. But finally he pulls back, his body relaxed and loose. “Better?” T.K. asks.

Carlos nods. “Yes. Thank you.” His gaze turns more serious, assessing. “How are you? Are you feeling all right? How’s the shift been?”

T.K. chuckles. “I’m not the one who fell asleep in my boyfriend’s work bunk. Yes, I’m fine. The shift has been amazing. I missed this so much.”

“You haven’t gotten lightheaded or dizzy? You’re not too tired?”

“No. Not even a little.”

“Good,” Carlos says, relief smoothing out the last of the lines that crease his brow. “I know I’m being selfish, wanting to keep you home with me, but I really am glad you’re back. That all of you are back. It was nice to walk in and see the whole crew together again.”

“Yeah,” T.K. agrees, a warm bloom in his chest.

“I should get going,” Carlos says. “You need to get at least a little sleep tonight.”

“Come on. Since my dad is gone we can raid the secret candy stash before you go. I’ll even let you have some of my Sour Patch Kids.”

Carlos wrinkles his nose as T.K. pulls him to his feet. “I don’t know how you can stand those things.”

“They’re delicious! First they’re sour, then they’re sweet!”

“It’s almost midnight. Didn’t you have cake earlier too? Please tell me you ate a vegetable at dinner.”

[antiyourwokehomophobia2]

Traveling out of state to go visit my (now ex) gf and coming home with covid is such a double whammy.

[basiltonpitch]

on losing a mother

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[strifethedestroyer]

my uncle died. hm

this is the first time i've ever reached the tag limit. the last word is meant to be funeral.

[makeitlookdecent]

srry homie for what im boutta do

for the au[other colors] i thought it would be cool to have klugs parents show up for a couple scenes, but for the timeline of the major events i needed them GONE and UNRESPONSIVE.

hes smart so i think, even at a young age, he gets that they're busy with work and all, and he's not alone per say- his friends and teachers and everyone in primp would definitely look out for him, but ive just been thinking. because like, i thought itd be cool if it was almost like strange also helped raise klug. as a (malicious) mentor of sorts. after they made truce (that they both keep breaking)

i imagine klugs parents are probably good people, but are horrible as parents. like they just keep doing their own thing and just let the village raise him.

but then that got me thinking, in this setting, do you think he would unknowingly (or maybe knowingly but trying not to think about it) resent them for not being there for him growing up?

[mintmatcha]

inevitable bonus:

cw: drug use and discussion, hospital mention

A bonus piece for my long fic Inevitable

There's a unique weight to being twenty.

Salt and sadness of tears has settling into your eyelids and the world has become blurry. It's the type of sadness that robs the simple moments of their beauty and poetry.

Touya doesn't speak the entire ride home. He cranks to radio until the cab shakes with the bass, tapping along to the beat against his vomit stained jeans. The hospital bracelet dangles from his wrist along with the beat. It dances as you both walk home, joylessly mocking you with it's presence alone.

His dad called you five times, screaming, never crying. He left a bag of Touya's things with you in the hospital's parking lot, never went in to see his son. He tried to get you to leave with him, you never agreed.

Your boyfriend overdosed. He mixed alcohol and pills and god knows what else and overdosed on a stranger's floor.

You have to live with that fact.

As of today, Touya lives with you. He didn't thank you for the key when you handed it to him; his throat was still raw from his stomach being pumped.

"Do you want some scissors?" you ask the second the door closes behind him. He shrugs his bag off and slaps the lock closed.

"Nah, I'll get it later." He shuffles to the fridge. "Do you have any beer?"

The air sags out of you, not a laugh, not a sigh, but a slow punch to the gut. Touya recoils a bit, gauging his mistake.

"It's a joke."

"It's not funny."

"It's a fucking joke."

"It's not fucking funny!" The scream rips out of you so fast and hard that it aches down throughout your whole body. "It's not fucking funny!"

Touya's shoulder hunch as he scoffs, running his hands through his greasy hair. He closes his fist around the blonde roots and tugs, slightly, out of aggravation and desperation. Your whole world is cockeyed and threatening to capsize.

"Princess-" he tries, but he only prods your open wound further.

"Touya." You clasp your hands together in prayer, the only thing you've ever worshiped standing in front of you, hospital bracelet still dangling around his wrist, hands still shaking.

"Princess."

"You almost died."

The crushed pressure of worry and heartache shorten every breath, constricting around you, but the gap between the two of you feels so big.

"I didn't though." He scuffles forward, then again. You back as he approaches, a hitched waltz. until you're pressed into the kitchen's island. "I stayed for you, huh?"

Hand closing over your shoulder, he presses against you. His body is thin in ways you don't recognize, jagged in the hips and ribs.

"Huh?" he repeats, warm, soft, sweet-

"Touya, don't-"

"Huh? Didn't I?" He's trying to tug your face into his, even as you squirm away. It's supposed to be cute, but he's using too much force, perking your face towards him the second he gets a firm grip.

"Stop, I'm still mad."

"You can kiss me and be fucking mad at the same time."

"Don't-"

He muscles you into his lips. The fight inside you dissipates and you let him keep you there, licking into your mouth and sucking on your tongue like a horny teen. You wonder if he's brushed his teeth before this, if he wants you or your forgiveness.

When he releases, it's with this smile- one you don't recognize.

"It won't happen again, promise," he says. "Don't give up on me, princess, I'm not gonna disappoint you again."

It's three weeks later that he overdoses again, this time on your couch. It takes two fingers to scoop the vomit from his throat and he bites you when he starts to seize.

(dividers by @/cafekitsune)

[wosoamazing]

Mummy or Leah

Summary: Based on this request.

Warnings: Mention of death (Rs parents, Cancer) - like in last Paragraph thats it, mention of Arsenal's Injuries last year....

Summary: It's only short, but I hope you like it :) - currently I am working on the McFoord Teen!Reader Fic and the next story in the McFoord Baby Series.

Today you were going to your first England camp since your Mum got an ouchie knee that meant she couldn't play for a long time, Beth and Viv had also hurt their knees, and Laura, something about an ACL. Lia, your Mummy’s friend had moved in to help originally but then she got hurt too. You had only recently been adopted by your Mummy when she got hurt, it scared you, you didn't want her to die too.

“You excited bub?” Your Mum said as she got you out of your car seat, you didn't say anything immediately seeing Lucy.

“Ucy!” you screamed as you ran to her, she scooped you up and threw you into the air.

“I think you’ve got your answer,” Alessia giggled.

“Nice to see you again, little one, where is your Mum?” She asked, picking you up, you pointed to where your Mum was standing with her Arsenal teammates, she started to walk over to them.

“Wessi” you said as you made grabby hands for her.

“That didn't take long,” Lucy said as she handed you over to Alessia.

“Oh Lessi is currently the favourite, isn't she monkey,” Alessia asked you as she tickled you, causing you to giggle.

“Wove Wessi, we go pway? Tooney, Mary?” Alessia looked over to Leah, who nodded.

“Sure monkey, let's go find them, I just need to go take my stuff up to my room,”

“We’ve got it Less, don’t worry,” “Thanks Le.”

__

“Weah,” you said as you reached up and tugged on her shorts, she hadn't noticed you walk in with Mary, you and Mary had run away from Alessia, so she was still outside, “What did you just say bub?” “Weah”

“Who’s that?” you pointed to her, “is that my name?” you nodded, she should know this shouldn't she, “but I’m Mummy, I’m your-” 

“Leah,” Alessia said loudly as she walked into the common room.

“Weah” you repeated after Alessia.

“Oh, I see the problem, do you think you need to call me Leah because everyone else does bubs?” you eagerly nodded your head, “oh, well yes, everyone else does call me Leah bubba, but that's only because I’m not their Mummy, you see I’m you Mum. Aren't I?” you eagerly nodded your head, “Well then, you get to call me Mummy.”

“O-tay” you replied before a big yawn escaped your mouth.

“Nap time?” you shook your head, “I think so bubba, why don’t you see if Beth will let you lie with her and you can nap,” you nodded slowly and your Mum put you down and you toddled over to where Beth was laying on a bean bag, she almost seemed sad.

“Bef, I nap wif you?” “Sure monkey,” she picked you up and you curled up on her torso, your head resting on her chest. 

“Wove oo,” you said to her, causing her heart to melt, a few tears started to well in her eyes, she tried to push them down as she drew circles on your back but when you drifted off to sleep and Leah went over to her, they left her eyes. Leah didn't say anything but wrapped her arms around her as best she could without disturbing you. A year ago today was the day a few of the Arsenal girls had met you, they were visiting kids in the hospital and saw you just walking about, as soon as Leah met you and found out your Dad had just died and that you had no one to care for you, as you Mum had died earlier from cancer, she knew she was going to adopt you. Your adoption was made official after you had been living with Leah for just over a month.

April 19 2022 marked the best and worst day of Leah’s life, it was the day you became hers officially but it was also the day her whole world came crashing down.

[thefallennightmare]

Just Pretend-Twenty Seven

*gif created by me. feel free to use, simply give credit*

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut, star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: I apologize for the trauma I will cause with this chapter. But I promise that it's meant to happen this way. The light might be flickering now but soon, it will shine brighter than ever.

Also, I know I teased sweet, sweet, smut, but time got away from me so I will save it for the next chapter! Tumblr is being stupid and only allowing me to tag 50 people on a post so I might have to take some of these tags and add them in a comment, so if for some reason you don't see your tag, don't fret! It is added in the comments. As always, enjoy my loves, and thank you for sticking with me!

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @dsireland86 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @exitwoundsx @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @princesspeach-00 @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @cookiesupplier @concreteemo @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @teenblues @malice-ov-mercy @krisslee18 @xxkittenkissesxx @happi-goth @embracethereaper42 @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @bloody-delusion-expert @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @a1ex-ba1ex @sideeyenoah @emzandthevoid @badomensls @bellaboo967 @waake-mee-up @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @cncohshit @amelia-acero @karenfranco @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @bleachampion @thepastelfae @supersquirrel1996 @madomens @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

READER

People once believed that when someone dies, a crow carries their soul to the land of the dead.

That’s complete bullshit. 

The noise around me was muted, and uninteresting, as my eyes stared daggers into the burial plot at my feet. It was all wrong, everything about this day was wrong. This entire moment was a facade of what people always believed happened after death. My dad wasn’t up in the sky watching me with a proud smile on his face. 

His body was in the ground beneath my feet. 

There was an empty hole in my heart, caving in with every pathetic attempt from the ones around in an effort to comfort me. It was a feign response due to what happened. No one here knew me or my father. Some of these people I hadn’t seen in years while the others I never met, acquaintances of my father’s while he lived here in Japan. They were compelled by the crosses on their necks because they were worried about what came next for them. They were all liars. 

My dad included. 

He lied to me for over a year. He hid his cancer from everyone. He suffered in silence and in pain. 

Did I not matter to him? Was I not important enough for him to tell me the truth? Did he even love me?

When I arrived in Japan four days ago, Noah and I immediately went to the hospital where my dad died to speak with the doctors. According to them, my dad had been diagnosed with lung cancer almost two years ago but they were hopeful because they caught it early on. He even beat it with rigorous treatments and was feeling good; alive. 

Yet, five weeks ago the cancer came back, more aggressive than before and this time my dad opted out of treatments. He told his doctors he was done fighting and wanted to go naturally. He had all of his funeral plans already set in motion, casket and all.

The real kicker about my dad’s cancer? He never smoked a day in his life and he was one of the healthiest persons I know. 

You knew. 

When the hospital first told me what happened, I didn’t believe them. There was no way my father was sick and didn’t tell me. I was in a state of denial for hours after the news, I sat in the hospital waiting room for my dad to walk through those doors to tell me everything was alright and it was just a normal check up. 

Noah had to force me out of the chair after three hours of waiting for a ghost. 

“Y/N, he’s not coming back,” Noah’s eyes shined with his tears as he lifted me up from my seated position. “I’m sorry, angel. But we can’t keep sitting here.”

I choked on a breath causing Noah to turn his head towards me but I refused to meet his gaze knowing that if I did, all of my strong reserve would crumble the second I drank in those almond eyes. Instead, I burned all of my hate down at the open grave, desperately wishing the dirt would cover the oak box that was six feet deep. He cheated death before but now it was real.

My dad was buried in a box because the cancer couldn’t stop. 

“Would his daughter like to say a few words?” 

Noah shifted beside me, the softest of breezes we felt for the first time all afternoon blowing through his unkempt hair and through the muted feeling coursing through me, I felt his fingers link with mine. 

“We can keep going,” he answered for me. 

I didn’t say a word all morning while getting ready for my dad’s funeral. I was in a catatonic state of numbness in a way to mentally prepare myself. It wasn’t until Noah and I were sitting in the rental car outside of the cemetery as we waited for the funeral home to arrive with my dad’s body that I finally spoke. 

“Please don’t make me say anything today. He won’t be able to hear me,” I kept my eyes trained hard outside of the window, not bothering to glance towards Noah who sat in the driver's seat. 

His tattooed fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Whatever you want, angel.”

As the funeral continued on, I felt Noah’s strong arms wrap around my shoulder and pulled me into his warm chest. The dress I wore did nothing to keep the warmth inside of me with the short sleeves even after Noah asked me three times before we left this morning if I wanted a jacket. 

“Please take all the time you need to say your goodbyes,” the man from the funeral home said. “Miss. Y/L/N, is there somewhere you would like everyone to meet you for the wake?” 

Right, the wake. Another name for an after party where you’re supposed to celebrate the life the deceased lived. 

Or as I called it, another bullshit reason for people to act like they knew my dad. 

Chase, who stood on the other side of me, cleared his throat. “Feel free to head on home after this. We decided not to have a wake.”

A round of gasps rose from the group of people standing around the now filling grave. “Dear, you need to have a wake! It’s what your father would want!” 

My head snapped up towards the older woman who hid beneath an excessively large hat. I think she was in one of my fathers book clubs. Through the bloodshot eyes, I sliced her in half with my gaze and my throat burned as I tried not to cry.

“You have no idea what my dad would have wanted,” I snapped. 

Noah hushed me by dragging his lips into my hairline and running a hand up and down my arm. 

“It’s alright, angel. Just breathe.”

Malcolm gave an apologetic smile to everyone before bidding them all a goodbye with a curt nod. Slowly, everyone who didn’t matter dispersed and I was left with the ones that did. 

Noah continued to hold me to his chest as the sobs began to fall through my lips, and I grasped onto his jacket to find some sort of anchor. 

Chase and Malcolm solemnly stood on my right with their hands deep in their pockets. Besides me, they were the only other ones here that actually knew my dad. He loved Chase and Malcolm like they were his own sons so I knew they were hurting deep down as well. 

Jesse, Matt, Faye, and Michael all stood on the other end of the grave. I could feel their looks of sorrow as it bounced from the filled grave back to me. 

Jolly, Astrid, Folio, and Nicholas were behind me, closing ranks almost in a way to shield me from any other bad thing that threatened my life. 

Since it was so last minute, some of the rest of the crew couldn’t fly out but I didn’t hold it against them. It was unknown how long we would be here for so between Tay, Bryan, and Davis they all offered to take turns with watching Salem. 

“Can heaven fall to earth?” I cried into Noah’s shirt. “I want to feel it come down. I need him.” 

Noah let out a shaky breath, resting his chin on top of my head as he rocked me slowly. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, just let me stain his shirt with my tears, and it wasn’t until I saw Chase’s striking blue eyes that I realized the sun had set and the moon was starting to crest over the hills, gray lights breaking through the cherry blossom trees. 

“I don’t want to rush you, sweets,” he gave me a somber smile. “But I think they’re going to close the gates soon.” 

Blinking rapidly, I looked around at all my friends; my family. They dropped everything to be here for me and most of them never met my dad. However my heart was too broken to care. At that moment, I wanted to be alone with my dad. I didn’t even want Noah. I tried to push him away the first few days but he refused, he wouldn’t let me be alone during this.

While everyone went back to their hotel rooms, we would be going back to my dad’s house again. His scent still lingered in the aged walls and I swore the first few nights we slept in the guest room, I could hear his footsteps in the hallway. I expected to see him sitting in the old and faded green reading chair in the corner of the living room with either a book or the paper in his lap. Instead I woke up to an empty house. 

Well, almost empty. 

“Did you want a few minutes alone?” Noah asked. 

Finally looking up at him through the tears, I shook my head. “Can we please go back?” 

His face was contorted with his own pain yet still managed to give me that smile I loved. “Anything you want, angel.”

While they all conversed about possibly meeting up for breakfast in the morning, my mind was elsewhere. All of my thoughts were in the dark recesses of my mind and I let them take me further and further. I didn’t want to find a way out. 

I wanted to be with my dad. 

With Noah’s gentle tug on my shoulder, I let him lead me back towards the rental car, still in a state of dissociation. I didn’t even realize he helped me into the seat, buckled my seat belt, and drove off from the cemetery until we were minutes away from my dads place. 

“Y/N?” 

Feeling like it weighed like a bag of rocks, I raised my head up from staring at my dry knuckles and over towards the concerning eyes of Noah. 

“Hm?” 

Words couldn’t even form on my tongue. I was too far deep in my grief and the idea of talking was too much of a task.

“Are you hungry? I can stop by that ramen place, if you want.”

Noah flicked his eyes back on the road as he sat straight up against the seat but I knew with the way his jaw ticked, something was weighing heavily on him. It wasn't a secret that he was keeping how he felt with everything to himself and the little voice inside my brain was screaming at me to talk with him, work out how both of us were feeling. 

Instead, I gave him a very weak shrug before turning to look out the window, the scenery whipping past us. It was all a blur of colors, unimaginative and unappealing. When we arrived back to my dad’s place, I barely gave Noah a smile as he opened the door for me and when I stepped into the darkness of the somewhat empty home, I made a beeline towards the guest bedroom on the far end of the hallway, not bothering to look at the envelope with my name on it on the kitchen counter or the 10lbs fluff ball that happily wagged its tail at my feet when he saw us. 

Like I’d done the last four days, I locked myself inside of the guest room and buried myself underneath the mounds of blankets. There was a lot of work to get done with packing up my dad’s place but it didn’t matter to me. Nothing mattered anymore. The only thing that did was rotting in the earth's soil. 

NOAH

"Angel?" I called out into the cold darkness. 

Stepping into the now familiar house, I shook the chilled rain from my jacket and hung it up on the hook next to the door. The aged wood of the floor creaked beneath my feet as I padded across it, after kicking off my shoes. There was a faint glow emanating from the lamp in the living room, casting my surroundings in a muted yellow as I set down the takeout bag on the counter. 

Not like she would eat. She hasn't eaten anything in days.

The two envelopes had sat in the same spot on the kitchen counter since we first arrived eight days ago; untouched. One with Y/N’s name and one with mine. She refused to touch it or even look at it because she knew what it was. 

A letter from her dad. 

I didn’t force her to read it knowing she needed the time to accept everything beforehand. Yet deep down, I was so afraid that the walls Y/N had made in her mind had locked her in. We weren’t okay but for now, I needed to try my best to just pretend.

Jingling tags caught my attention and I bent low at the knees just as Kuma met me halfway. He was Y/N’s dad’s three month old Akita puppy. From when he died to when we arrived three days later, one of his friends had been taking care of the dog but I offered to take over in Kuma’s care. 

Y/N wanted nothing to do with him. 

“We’ll take him to the shelter before we leave.”

“Hey bud,” I smiled while scratching behind his ears. “Did you get dinner yet?” 

Kuma let out a bark, quiet and squeaky, and he shook out his fur. He was all black with a white spot around one eye and on one paw. 

After filling up his bowl with food and water, I brushed my hands on the back of my dress slacks and let out a long breath. Earlier today, Y/N had a meeting with some lawyers to figure out her dad’s estate and what to do with the rest of his money. It was stated in his will that she had the final say on what to do with his things and that she was entitled to all of his savings. Y/N was never hurting financially since Hollow Souls was thriving but now with the extra money, she’d be able to live comfortably without worry. Thankfully in the divorce, it was made clear that her mom would not get a cent of her dads money when he passed. 

Y/N had yet to decide what she wanted to do with all of her fathers things. As soon as we both arrived back earlier, she yet again locked herself in the guest room. 

The house, while it was unfamiliar at first, I knew that the bones of the structure told a story; one of a man that loved his daughter very much and wished he was able to say goodbye. My socks slid against the floor as I followed the soft tune of music from the guest bedroom, passing the one room that had remained shut since we arrived a week ago; her refusing to open it. 

Her dad’s bedroom.

"Y/N?" I tried again, hoping now that I was closer to the bedroom she'd be able to hear me. "I brought some ramen from the place down the road. Your favorite."

The only thing I heard was the same tune of music, louder now. 

"I'm sorry I can't get out of bed. I'm sorry that my head’s always a mess." 

Joe. His song, I’m sorry. I’m trying, was one of her favorites. 

Y/N had been playing the same nothing, nowhere song the entire afternoon, drowning in his melodies when I left her earlier after our disagreement. I knew she wasn't in the right headspace with what she tried so I couldn't hold it against her. But there was no way I could do what she asked. 

Not now. 

"Noah, please," her hands reached for my shirt, trying to pry it away from my skin. "I just need five minutes."

"Y/N," I tenderly held onto her wrists, halting her. "You're not in the right mind for this." 

She wrenched her hands from my grip and knelt on the bed, grasping the waistband of my dress pants, and began pulling them down. I fought against her as her hand slipped between my briefs and took a hold of my cock, squeezing it. 

"Make me forget this pain, Noah. Please."

Y/N attacked my lips with hers and for a brief moment, I sunk into the way she felt against me, her fingers gathering the precum from my cock, smearing it over the head. I shook in her touch as my mouth moved against hers. It had been so long since we were intimate, almost two weeks, and my soul had yearned for hers wanting to feel complete again. 

But I knew this wasn't the right time. She was using me as an outlet for the pain she hid behind the smile on her face.  

"This isn't right, angel," I gently pushed her away but kept a hold on her face. "I won't take advantage of you when you're like this." 

Bloodshot and broken eyes stared up at me, soulless and lifeless, before she pushed me away to burrow herself under the covers again; where she'd been every day since the funeral.

Knocking on the open door, I peered inside expecting to see Y/N lying in bed where I left her but my heart stalled in my chest at the sight. The world came to a standstill as every single one of my senses was on high alert, panicked eyes dragging across every inch of empty space. 

Shattered glass spilled onto the floor from the trail that began in the adjacent bathroom and that was when I noticed the mirror had been broken. I did my best to tiptoe around the shards as I peered into the shower, hoping to see Y/N. 

“Angel?” My voice shook with fear, wondering what the hell happened in the twenty minutes I was gone. 

Running a frantic hand through my soaked hair from the earlier rain, I scanned the room once more and made the decision to go search the rest of the house when I froze. Choking on a breath, I gingerly reached for a piece of paper stained with blood that lay on the torn up bed. It was from Y/N’s lyric journal. I only knew that because of the older writings from You and I. 

Yet, it was the fresh ink that made my heart drop to the depths of my stomach, the sound of crinkling paper overpowering the music in the desolate room. 

I’m sorry. I can’t keep trying. 

JESSE

“What is going on?” I asked while pushing through the already open door, Michael following close behind.

Malcolm was trying his best to calm an erratic Noah, who wouldn’t stop pacing the room, drowning in the rainwater that clung to his shivering body. Chase was sitting on the couch with a relaxed Kuma laying in lap, while he was not. He had his phone pressed to his ear only to curse before redialling a number. 

“I have to get back out there!” 

Noah tried to push past Malcolm, only for him to shove him back. 

“Dude, look at you! You're soaked and shivering! It’s pouring outside, you need to dry off before you catch pneumonia,” Malcolm angrily threw his auburn curls up into a messy bun.

Noah’s eyes narrowed at him. “It’s Y/N! I need to find her!” 

About twenty minutes ago, Noah had called my phone in a frenzied state, rambling on about how Y/N is missing and he spent the last hour out in the rain looking for her. While everyone else had flown back home a few days ago, me, Michael, Chase and Malcolm hung back just in case Noah or Y/N needed anything. 

Suddenly, I was very thankful we did. 

“You tried, Noah! You were out in the rain for an hour. Chase had to drag you back inside,” Malcolm’s voice was raised but not nearly as high as Noah’s. 

“Fuck you!” Noah cursed, finally brushing past Malcolm, only to be stopped by Michale and I as we made a barrier in front of the door. 

I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. 

“You’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on,” I said as calmly as I could. 

I’d known Noah for years, lived with him just as long, and I also knew that the only way to reason with his stubbornness was with your own calm stubbornness. 

He tried to break through our barrier but Michael laid a firm hand on his chest, stopping him. 

“Y/N’s gone!” Noah exasperated while throwing a hand in the direction of the door. “There’s broken glass in the bedroom and she left me a note. I have to find her!”

I’d never seen him in this kind of state. His hair was a wild mess, even from the rain. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, showing he’d been crying. His lips were blue from how cold he was. But worst of all was the look of pure failure on his face. 

“You didn’t fail her, Noah,” I sighed while dropping my arms. 

He blinked. “I-I-fuck!” 

Michael stepped forward and rested two hands on Noah’s shoulders. “Look at me.” 

When he refused, Michael gripped Noah’s chin, forcing him. 

“You. Did. Not. Fail. Her.” Michael blew out his own shaky breath, it was killing both of us to see our friend like this. 

So broken. 

So defeated. 

I rarely ever saw Noah like this, the only times I knew of him having a panic attack, it was always Nicholas there to help him through it. But now, it was us. 

He let out an unsettling sob before he fell to his knees, letting out an earth shattering scream. All four of us watched him for a moment, allowing him to release the pent up frustration and anger he felt from the past week. Noah had held it together for Y/N, being there to catch her when she fell from her dad’s death, whereas no one had been there for him. He’d found himself in a deep hell and now, he woke up screaming with the realization that all he’d done to protect Y/N was for not. 

Noah was on his knees, body shivering from the chilled rain and now his cries, so I tentatively knelt in front of him. 

“Come on,” I spoke gingerly while placing my hands underneath his arms, ready to hoist him up. 

“She left me,” he sobbed, grabbing a hold of my shirt and was met with eyes filled with heartache. “She fucking left me. Again!”

Glancing over to Malcolm with narrowed eyes from underneath my hat, I waited for him to give me some sort of indication that Y/N had in fact not left Noah in that way; all she needed was some time to herself. 

Malcolm shared a look with Chase, who in turn shook his head. “She wouldn’t leave him. We all know that.” 

But I didn’t miss the hesitation in his voice.

“There’s this fucking hole in my heart, Jesse!” Noah pounded his chest. “It’s that stupid shit Jolly always talked about, the soulmate crap. Y/N feels so far away and my soul is crying for her. It needs to find her because it can’t survive without her. After everything we’ve gone through, she still fucking left me. Why did she push me away? I was here for her, did she not realize that? I’d give up everything for her. But she just threw it all away!”

Noah was rambling a bunch of nonsense now, we all knew that. He didn’t mean any of it. Y/N and Noah’s love was pure as a fresh flower bud, trying to push through the heavy soil that dampred its growth. But once their souls find each other again, their love will be able to break through and flourish. 

Like it always did. 

“Come on,” I repeated again, this time now bringing Noah to his feet, albeit his head still hung low. “This is what you’re going-Noah, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he lifted his head. 

“You’re going to take a shower, try to eat something, and sit your ass on that couch. Snuggle up with Kuma. Write out your feelings. Play guitar. Mediate. Whatever fucking helps you calm down. Because when I find Y/N and bring her back, you need to have a clear head.”

Something flickered behind those dull eyes and I wiped away those lingering tears. 

“I promise you. I will find her and bring her back, alright?” 

When Noah didn’t say anything, I tapped his cheek with my hand causing him to grumble a few curses under his breath. 

“You didn’t have to smack me, asshole,” he rubbed at his face with the smallest of smiles. 

Feeling the grip of anxiety loosen a bit, I let out a long breath and nodded. Trying to pull Noah out of this current state wasn’t helping my own anxiety but I tried my best to not slip into that familiar feeling of dread. Noah needed all of us to be strong. 

“Micheal and I will go out to look for Y/N. You stay here with Chase and Malcolm, in case she comes back. 

As we took two steps towards the front door, Malcolm stopped me with a grip on my elbow, stopping me. Chase was keeping Noah preoccupied by forcing him to snuggle with Kuma. There was an immense fear clouding his emerald eyes as he ran a hand over his face. 

“Do you have any idea where to start?” He asked. 

I zipped up my jacket with a sigh. “Not a fucking clue. Her dad’s grave is too far on foot. The rental car is still here. Unless she took a cab.”

“There’s one place no one knows about, besides me,” Malcolm admitted while shifting on his feet. 

Michael slinked up beside me. “You’re just saying this now?!” 

I placed a hand on his chest, feeling his anger radiate into the air around us. We all were doing our best to remain in control but deep down, we were afraid for Y/N. 

“I didn’t think of it until now,” Malcolm sucked in a breath while averting his gaze for a few beats before locking it with mine. “There’s this garden about two blocks from here. Y/N and her dad went every morning when we were here last. It was where she had that conversation with her dad about Noah. Where he told her to go for it.”

With a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder, Michael and I quickly left the house and into the rain towards the car. Following Malcolm’s instructions, Michael drove towards the garden and as we pulled up to an empty lot, I did my best to look through the windshield while the sky opened up with even more rain. 

“Shit. We’re going to have probably split up to find her. This place is huge,” Michael noted. 

Suddenly, I remembered something from the one Hollow Souls live streams Noah and I watched together years ago. A fan asked her where she liked to go when she needed time to think.

"Oh, that's easy," she answered with zero hesitation. "The rooftop of the venue we’re playing or the rooftop of my apartment. I love looking out at the vastness of the city almost like I'm Zeus staring down at all the other DemiGods."

“You stay in the car, make sure it’s warm. I have an idea where she’d be,” I said before leaving the car and gazed through the onslaught of the current storm. 

Thunder shook my bones as I ran through the garden looking for any kind of rooftop that Y/N could be sitting on. Minutes whizzed by as I stood there shivering, ready to give up hope, I saw the smallest of movements in the quick break of rain. There, less than ten feet in front of me, was Y/N sitting on top of a pergola with her knees pulled to her chest. 

“How the hell did she get up there?” I muttered to myself before taking off my hat to shake out the water from my curls. 

With a grunt, I willed my body up the scaffolding of the pergola and nearly slipped with how wet it was. 

This has to be illegal, right? Am I going to get thrown in jail for this? Is this disrespectful? Oh man, I’m going to get haunted by some kind of ghost. 

My knees shook when I stood to full height on the roof just as the storm started again. 

“Y/N!” I yelled over the thunder. 

Her head whipped up from being buried in her hands and the sight before me shattered me. Her eyes were red and puffy, her lips blue from the outside chill, and worst of all was the look that mirrored Noah’s. 

Failure. 

“J-Jesse?” She choked on her words. “Wha-? How did you find me?” 

I extended a hand towards her. “Come on, let’s get you somewhere warm and dry.” 

Y/N frantically shook her hair, the wet strands of hair sticking to her face. “I can’t go back there, please don’t make me. I-I-can’t.”

Quickly, I had her in my arms as I sat next to her, feeling her body trembling against me; not sure if it was from the rain or the sobs that controlled her. Even though we were drenched, neither of us moved. 

“Sweetheart,” I cooed in her ear. “It’s alright.” 

Y/N latched onto me. “N-no, it’s not. Everything is so fucked up! My dad is buried in the ground and it’s all my fault.”

This time, I forced those broken eyes to look at me. 

“How is his death your fault, Y/N?” 

“He’d been calling me for weeks,” her bottom lip trembled. “Weeks! I ignored him because I was too caught up in my life and didn’t want to disturb it.” 

“Disturb it, how?” My brows furrowed. 

Droplets of rain fell from the rim of my hat, splashing down onto her lap along with her tears. 

“I was caught up in the bliss of everything; Noah, Hollow Souls, just life in general. I was afraid that he’d bring the same drama my mom had. All I wanted was to keep the bubble around me, protecting me from it all,” she cast her eyes down, ashamed. 

I brought her closer to me when I felt her shivering more now and rested my chin on top of her head. 

“Your dad has never been that way, sweetheart. You know that,” I reminded her. 

She wiped her nose against my shirt but I couldn’t be bothered. 

“I think deep down I knew something was wrong with him. The cough he had lasted way too long but I kept telling him to get it checked out. I thought he was ignoring me. So I guess I got tired of pushing something on him when he didn’t want it. Subconsciously, I began pushing myself away hoping he’d realize how upset I was with him not getting himself checked out, when in reality-.”

Her words trailed off, unable to finish, but she didn’t have too. I knew what Y/N was going to say. 

“He fought for his life as long as he could, sweetheart. I promise you that he never meant to leave you like this,” I assured her.

“Why did he have to die? My dad left me broken and alone with a long life,” her voice was muffled against my chest. 

I rubbed circles against her back, feeling the indents of bones against my palm and it was then I realized how drastically her dad’s death affected her. Noah mentioned that Y/N stopped eating days ago and with the dark circles under her eyes, it was evident she hadn’t been sleeping either. Shew was skin and bones, starved for the light of the everglow.

“I miss him so much, Jesse. I want him back with me. I went to his grave first to scream at him for leaving me like this. Digging in the dirt hoping he would resurface. All of the light is gone, just darkness. My body is numb with coming undone. Why did it have to be him?” 

I lifted her legs so she could sit completely in my lap. “Your dad loved you so much, Y/N. I know you’re hurting right now and it’s going to take some time to get rid of that anger but it’s normal. I know you're tired now but you can't keep running because you’re terrified you won't see your dad on the other side. The only thing you have to remember is to not let that anger consume you and destroy everything good in your life. You cannot let it overcome the light.” 

She sniffled and nodded. “I know. I pushed away so many of you, ignoring everyone. Astrid has been texting me wondering how I am but I don’t know what to say because I just don’t understand how I should feel. Chase and Malcolm have tried to get me out of my dad’s house the last few days but I leave them on read because I’m so tired. It physically hurts me to move out of bed.”

The rain began to let up as Y/N took a deep breath, it was unsteady and broken. 

“Noah,” she cried. “Fuck. Noah. I kept pushing him away when all he has done is take care of me!” 

She pushed away from me with a start. “Oh my god, Jesse! I left him. I promised him I would never leave him like that again but I did! He must hate me, I can’t believe-.”

I gently cupped her cheeks, brushing away the tears, and she was cold to the touch, falling alone like snow. 

“Hey, stop. Noah does not hate you. He’s worried about you. He spent the last two hours out in the rain searching for you. If anything Y/N, you scared the shit out of him. But he doesn’t hate you.” 

Her shoulders fell. “I left behind such a mess. I can’t imagine what was going through his mind when he saw the glass in the bedroom.”

“What exactly happened?” I wondered. 

Y/N gnawed on her bottom lip, ripping away the dead skin. “I felt disgusted for what I tried to do to Noah. I almost forced him to take advantage of me because I needed to forget about this pain. How could I have done that?” 

I didn’t answer, simply let her continue on. “I found myself staring at my reflection with revulsion so I punched the mirror. It shattered everywhere and I sliced my hand pretty good.” 

Tenderly turning it over in my hand, I cringed when I saw the various cuts along her knuckles. Faintly, I could see dirt underneath her fingernails and my heart sank with the image of her digging at her fathers grave. The blood had been washed away from the rain but I knew that her hand needed to be bandaged up in case the wounds opened up again. 

“Sweetheart, you weren’t in the right headspace. Noah would never hold any of this against you. He loves you, he just wants you back safely with him.” 

Dull eyes stared up at me. “I owe him an apology.” 

“Why don’t we get you back to the house first, yeah?” I suggested just as the rain began to slow. 

Y/N didn’t say anything, only nodded, which was enough to raise her up with me just like I had done to Noah before. 

“Jesse?”

Her voice was meek as she reached for my arms, holding onto them with all her might. 

“Hm?” I hummed. 

Our gazes locked for a long beat and gradually the light that was Y/N began to shine through the clouds that blocked her mind. 

“I love you. Thank you for being here,” she wrapped her arms around me in a vice grip, nearly knocking me off my feet. 

With a quiet laugh, I kissed the top of her head in the way a brother would his little sister. 

“I love you too, kid.” 

Playfully, she pushed me away. “Kid? You’re only four years older than me.” 

With a shrug, I then helped her down the rooftop of the pergola and once we were back on solid ground, Michael came running up to us nearly knocking Y/N to the ground now when he wrapped his arms around her. 

“Don’t ever do that again, Y/N! You scared the shit out of everyone!” he chastised her once her feet were stable on the concrete again. 

She cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry. I never meant too. I was lost and needed to try and find myself.” 

Michael nodded in her embrace. “You’re like a sister to me, to all of us. When you’re hurting, we all are. We just want to make sure you’re alright.” 

“I know. I am now.” 

Tears pooled in her eyes before Michael wrapped her underneath his arm and began leading her back to the car, me following close behind. But upon closer inspection of Y/N, I noticed something peculiar. 

“Y/N?” I pulled them to a stop. “Where’s your shoe?” 

She pursed her lips as a red hue covered her cheeks and looked down at the foot that didn’t have a shoe covering it. “Oh, well-uh-I tripped while running from the cemetery to this garden and it fell down a sewer drain; along with my phone.”

Michael and I shared a look before we burst out into a fit of laughter, us doubling over. Y/N rested her hands on her hips with the hope to be upset with us finding the whole thing hilarious, until her own laughter filled the air thick with humidity due to the previous storm. 

With every precious laughter that emanated from Y/N, it was as if her soul was beginning to glow bright again. The light around her halo flickering back to life as the sun broke through the clouds; a sign from somewhere that everything would be alright.

NOAH

My mind was a mess of emotions, all leading me to think of the worst things of what happened to Y/N. Most of all, it demanded that I push past Chase who’d been guarding the door to find her myself. Jesse and Michael had been gone for quite some time, meaning they had yet to find her. I’d been so worried about her that I had yet to change out of my still soaked clothes that had barely dried, much to the dismay of Malcolm who continued to mutter under his breath that I was leaving puddles all over the floor.

It would be better if I went out there again. Maybe this time I could go a different route and-.

Suddenly the front door clicked open causing me and Kuma to pause our pacing of the floor and through the hazy vision of tears, I watched as Michael walked in, followed by Jesse who was holding a shivering Y/N against him. The sight of her like that stole all the air from my lungs as I let out a choked breath, the vice grip that was entangled around my heart from the moment I read the note finally began to loosen and we both stood there for a beat of silence, simply staring at one another. 

Kuma barked happily before trotting over to Y/N, pawing at her leg yet her eyes never left mine.

I swallowed the burn in my throat while blinking away the tears and then all at once, we both ran to each other and as soon as our souls connected, it felt like the earth shifted around us. All evening while she’d been gone, the earth was off its axis but now that Y/N was in my arms again, all was right in our universe. 

“Angel,” I brushed away the hair from her face. “Are you alright?” 

She nodded, her bottom lip caught between her teeth, and she slipped her shivering hands underneath my shirt to claw at the skin of my back. 

“I am so fucking sorry for walking out like that. We promised each other we wouldn’t, we would talk about things, but I broke that promise and I’m so sorry. I couldn’t keep trying, I felt like I was failing everyone, especially myself. I-I-couldn’t do it anymore.”

“It’s okay, angel. Just breathe. You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’ve got you now. You’re back. You came back,” I assured her while cupping her cheeks. 

Those eyes I loved so much were wet with tears as her bottom lip trembled with her sobs. 

“I’ll always come back to you, Noah. Always,” she vowed with a graze of her lips across my jaw.

Reluctantly, I let her slip from my embrace to allow Chase and Malcolm to check her over while I brought Jesse and Michael in for a tight hug, thanking them for bringing her back to me. Soon, the four of them left, leaving Y/N and I alone with Kuma who continued to paw at her leg. 

“He was worried too,” I motioned to the dog. 

She bent low to her knees to scoop up Kuma, holding his warmth to her chest. “I’m sorry I scared you sweet baby. I’m sure Noah took good care of you.”

While she didn’t change her mind about taking the dog to the shelter once we leave, it still warmed my heart to see that she was now warming up to Kuma. 

Speaking of warming up.

“Let’s go take a shower before we both get sick,” I said while linking fingers with her to lead her to the bathroom. 

“I should clean up the glass,” she sighed as we stepped through the door of the bedroom but was shocked to see it already clean. 

“Chase,” I informed. “It helped him to keep his mind focused on something other than where you were.” 

She hummed while resting her chin on my bicep to gaze up at me. “I scared all of you, huh?” 

I brushed a kiss across her forehead. “All that matters is that you’re back, angel.”

While the shower warmed up, steam slowly filling up the small space, I helped Y/N out of her clothes as it clung to her like a second skin and she did the same for me. Her nails dragged over the tattoos on my chest, down my abdomen, over to my arms and I shivered under her caress. When I took a hold of her hands, I frowned seeing the dirt under her nails and the scabbed over cuts along her knuckles. 

Not saying a word, I placed my hands on her hips and brought her into the shower with me. The warm water immediately ease away the chill that hung to our bones as I switched out positions so Y/N was directly underneath the spray. Her head tilted back, exposing her neck to me, and she let out a soft moan; the noise causing my cock to twitch. I ignored the fire burning in my gut though to reach beside Y/N and grabbed her shampoo bottle. 

My fingers worked the shampoo through the dark strands of her hair, working out whatever knots she received from the rain. She hummed as I massaged her scalp and kept her hands low on my hips, bringing us closer together. The only sounds were the water running over our bodies, down to the drain beneath our feet, and her soft giggles as I dragged my fingers down over her neck. Reaching up now, I pulled the shower head off of its hook and tilted her head back a bit further so I could rinse all of the soap out of her hair. As the conditioner sat for a few minutes longer than the shampoo did, I quickly stepped out of the shower to rummage around in the drawers of the vanity, water droplets splashing to the tiled floor. 

“Mochi! You’re getting water all over the floor!” 

Ignoring her scolding, I stood back in the shower and held her hand in one of mine, the other with a grip on a pointed nail file. 

“Oh, a manicure?” She teased. 

Giving her a playful glare, I began using the sharp end of the file to dig out the dirt underneath her nails as she stood there, watching. I didn’t need her to tell me what happened as I had a pretty good guess. 

Once the dirt was clean from her nails, I set the file down on the shelf in the shower and went about rinsing the conditioner from her hair before washing her body, taking my time around her most sensitive parts. As much as I wanted to feel her body against mine in that way, it wasn't needed tonight. We needed to come together in a different way. 

After Y/N was clean, she motioned for me to switch with her and now it was her turn to wash me. Although, watching as she tried to reach for my hair with soap all over her hands was a cute sight so I got on my knees, eye level with her stomach. While she washed my hair, I dragged a hand up and down her thigh, feeling the skin prickle from my touch. 

“You need a haircut,” she noted. 

I hummed in agreement, the noise rumbling in my chest, and I peered up at her. “It’s almost back to the wolf cut length.” 

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” Y/N shrugged while rinsing the conditioner from my hair and tapped my shoulder so I could rise to my feet. 

While resting on one knee, I paused for a moment as the now lukewarm water ran down both of us, and took in the sight of her. What used to be broken and dull had drastically changed in a matter of minutes. Thoughts of our redo date came fluttering to the forefront of my mind as I remained on one knee, the question I’d be desperate to ask weighing heavy on my tongue now. But internally I shook my head, knowing that it wasn’t the right time. It would have to wait until I received a sign. 

Instead, I pushed myself up to my feet so Y/N could wash my body and as her hand grazed over my cock, I let my forehead fall to her shoulder. It had been so long since she touched me like this, the moment earlier today nothing compared to now. Earlier it was distressed but now, her touch was fuelled with the need to feel me against her; prove to her that her soul wasn’t dead inside. 

“Y/N,” I panted when her fingers wrapped around me, pumping my cock slowly. “I-shit.”

I craved her like an addiction and I was ready to let go, allowing us to fall together as we always did. Only we were interrupted by rapid barking and scratching at the bathroom door, causing Y/N to shake with laughter. 

“Kuma probably needs dinner,” I grumbled. 

“Dinner actually sounds good right now. I’m starving,” Y/N pressed a kiss to my lips, one I wasn’t quite ready to let go of yet. 

Brushing my tongue along her bottom lip, I devoured them with my own starvation. Her hands linked behind my necks and she stood on her toes to lean into me even more. Everything around us fell away and my heart beat was almost non existence as it was whenever we kissed. I found myself becoming lost in her aura, dragged deep within the depths exactly like the moment our fates were sealed that very first time our eyes locked.  

I kept reaching for her, any inch of skin my nails could dig into to bring her closer to me. I needed to feel her heart against mine, syncing our heartbeats together, and she moaned into the kiss, it quickly being swallowed by my tongue. 

“I love you,” I breathed as we pulled away. 

Y/N pulled me in for another kiss, almost as if it was breathing life back into her and she needed more. Her lips captured the water hanging on my bottom lip and I nearly folded in her embrace. 

“I love you too, Noah. I’m sorry my grief caused me to pull away from you. You didn’t deserve that side of me,” her voice quavered. 

I twirled her hair between my fingers with a small smile. “What is grief if not love persevering.”

READER

Blowing my nose into the Kleenex, I wrapped my dad’s cardigan closer to my body as I dragged my slippers down the long hallway back towards the kitchen where I heard Noah rummaging around in the cupboards, most likely feeding Kuma. 

“Hi sweet boy,” I murmured while reaching down and petting him between the ears. 

“Hi yourself,” Noah smirked before setting the full bowl in front of Kuma. 

When he noticed the sweater, he raised a brow and I shrugged. “It’s my dad’s. It still smells like him.”

With a kiss to the side of my head, Noah then motioned to the couch in the living room. “Do you want to watch a movie?”

“Actually,” I nibbled on my lips, trying to find the courage to do something that had been plaguing me the second we stepped foot into my dads house all those days ago. “I want to read my dad’s letter. I think we both should read them, if you want to.”

Noah paused, wiping down the counter, mere inches from the two letters that remained untouched, and his face gave nothing away. It made me nervous that I might have pushed something on him that he wasn’t ready for. I know it surprised both of us that my dad left a letter to not only me, but Noah as well. 

“Should we read them together?” He tentatively reached for the letters and handed mine toward me. 

Holding it close to my chest, I nodded back down the hallway. “I think-I think I’m going to read it in my dad’s room.”

Something flickered in his eyes as he tapped his letter on the inside of his hand. “Whatever you want, angel.”

After leaving him and Kuma together on the couch, I stood outside the door to my fathers room and with a few deep breaths, I gripped the handle and slowly pushed it open. The room was cloaked in darkness, the moonlight barely breaking through the curtains that covered both sets of windows, so I clicked on the light. I blinked a few times before taking in the sight of his room. It was exactly how I remembered it from the last time I visited him; even his bed was made and untouched. Until I slipped underneath the blankets, his scent wrapping around me in a tight embrace. 

Taking a deep breath, I opened up the envelope to pull out the letter, my dad’s familiar hand writing drawing a choked sob from my lips. There’d been a reason why I’d been putting off reading the letter because it meant that he was actually gone. But now, I needed to know what he said. 

Buttercup, 

If you’re reading this it means that I’m gone. I am so sorry you had to find out this way that I was sick but I didn’t want you to worry about me. Your life is flourishing with Hollow Souls and Noah, the last thing you needed was to worry. I am so proud of the woman you’ve grown into even if I did have to watch from afar after the divorce. Please know I never held your choice of staying with your mother against you. I understood why you felt the need too but I am glad that you still kept your relationship with me. You will forever be my little girl. My buttercup. 

Speaking of relationships, make sure to hold that Noah boy close because from what I’ve seen and heard, he loves you very much. You need someone in your life that will take care of you and will cherish all the moments you two share. I knew from the moment I saw that video of you two performing on stage together a couple years ago that he was in love with you. He’s a good man, buttercup. Don’t let him go.

Although, I am still shocked about Chase and Malcolm. Were they together when you visited last? All is well, I suppose. Good for them. 

Now, if you’re in my house reading this, that means you’ve met Kuma. He’s a three month old Akita puppy and shouldn’t grow to be more than 40 lbs, at least that's what the guy at the shelter told me. I adopted him as a way to celebrate beating cancer the first time around but now that it’s back and spread to seventy percent of my body, I think it’s best if Kuma goes home with you and Noah. Hopefully he won't be too much of a nuisance to Salem but I have a feeling they’ll get along well. 

Please don’t let the grief of my passing overcome you, buttercup. Don’t let the anger consume you to do something drastic. Your heart is too pure for that. Lean on others as they are there to help you. Remember me in the way I would sit in the chair in the living room, my glasses nearly falling off my nose, as I buried it into a book. Or the time we went to that manga shop down the road and you swore one of the characters looked like Noah, if he had his hair that length. Although, now I bet he does since his hair is shorter than the last time. 

Does that length bother him? Or was he able to go on stage all those times with his hair down to his back? Was he not sweating? 

Anyway, I’m rambling, even in a letter. But before I end it, I wanted to say how much I love you and will always be proud of you for whatever you accomplish with your life. Hollow Souls has come back from the brink of collapse after you kicked out that asshole, pardon my language, and you’ve proven to everyone that this is your band. This is what you were made for, buttercup. Continue to light up the world around you and don’t let anyone dull your light. 

I’ll be with you in spirit, Y/N. Please don’t ever forget that. 

Take care of yourself, Kuma, and Noah. Because that man will do whatever it takes to keep you happy. You’re the one for him, buttercup. 

I’ll be shining light on your path and remember, it can’t rain all the time.

Love, Dad xx. 

My sobs echoed throughout the quiet space of the bedroom as I read the letter again and again, imagining my dad sitting at the desk across from me, pen scratching against paper. 

“I miss you so fucking much, dad,” I cried out while holding the paper against my chest. 

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed or if Noah was finished reading his letter because as I lay under the covers of my dad’s bed, I let the familiar feeling of his spirit around me lull me into a much needed slumber that was long overdue.

NOAH

As I lay on the couch with Kuma snoring next to me, I scratched at his belly with one hand while the other worked out a text message to Jesse and Michael. 

To Roommates: 

Me: I hope you guys know Kuma is coming home with us. 

Michael: We had a feeling so we sent Tay out to pick up whatever things you guys would need. 

Jesse: My girlfriend was very excited to go shopping for not only Kuma but Salem as well. I guess she bought him a lot of toys and maybe a cat condo that I have no idea where we’re going to go with it.

I chuckled at the picture Jesse sent next of Salem on top of the new cat condo that stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. 

Me: I never thought I’d miss Salem this much. 

Michael: Honestly, me too.

Jesse: How’s Y/N?

Me: Good, really good. She fell asleep in her dad’s bed. I peaked in on her a bit ago. I’m going to let her sleep there tonight. We’ve got a long day tomorrow of packing up her fathers stuff and shipping out what we're bringing back while we sell the rest along with the house.

We chatted for a few more minutes before I decided that it was now time for me to read the letter. Setting my phone to the side of the couch, I fiddled with the envelope in my hands. While I had a feeling my letter would drastically be different than Y/N’s, part of me feared what it said. 

Unbeknownst to her, I actually reached out to her dad a couple of weeks ago but was only met with his voicemail where I left my question. I hated it that it had to be done that way, but there was no other choice. 

As I ripped open the envelope, my phone buzzed next to me with a notification of a new email; one I didn’t read the name of. But it flashed brightly in the somewhat darkened room, the name almost urging me to look. With the now open letter in my hand, the familiar name continued to flash on my phone. 

Keaton. 

But it was the four simple words written on the piece of paper that held my attention, making my heart soar into my throat, causing me to nearly fall off of the couch. The two signs I'd been desperate for finally showcasing themselves.

You have my blessing.

[nipuni]

My dad died yesterday, he was 63

I would like to share a little about him and our story if anyone wants to read, this is not a happy story

My parents divorced when I was three and I went to live with my mom so I saw my dad's life in snapshots, once a week at first and then once a year when he moved abroad and I would spend the summers with him. Every time I would catch up with him he would have a different partner or apartment.

My time with him was always fun, he was laid back, adventurous and open, he would let me do all kinds of crazy stuff while my mom was the strict one. He was a genius to me, he taught me how to program my own games when I was nine, he would make me take computers and appliances apart and reassemble them to teach me how they worked, he made me love science, the outdoors and travelling. He was great at teaching and cooking and driving. He worked on tours for famous musicians as a sound tech, he made 3D films for museums and theme parks when it was all very new, he was a photographer, a programmer, electrician, mechanic, artist and could play many instruments and write poetry!!

The first crack between us was when there was a huge split between my mom's side of the family and his over money and a lot of ugly truths stared coming to light. I realized that when it came to money he was willing to put himself before me and the fights between him and my mom were awful. But in the end once the dust settled we both pretended it never happened.

One weekend I went to visit him and realized his current girlfriend would stick around at last and she had a daughter almost my age!! I now had a little sister and I loved it.

A year later the country fell apart and he fled abroad along with them and even though I missed them I would visit for months at a time every year. I saw him start his life over, he started his own company and I was so proud of him!!

Everything was great for eight years, until one day he told me that my step mom and sister left him and he would sell everything and come back to the country. This was the last time I would ever hear of them, they vanished, I mourned my step sister for years. This was also when his life fell apart.

At 17 adulthood came with a lot of revelations. My mom told me that my dad had been an addict since he was very young, before I was born, my whole life, cocaine and alcohol amongst other things, and everyone around him had been putting up with it and helping him but couldn't take it anymore. He had cheated on her when they had me and had cheated on my step mom too. He would lie to get what he wanted and trusting him was getting increasingly harder.

All of my memories of him were now seen through a different lens. I felt betrayed. I could now tell every time he had been high, and knew where the money he asked of me when to, I was aware of every little lie. I was angry and frustrated at him for the pain he caused my mom and everyone around him. And for squandering the potential I knew he had, for always making the wrong decisions, one mistake after another. And I hated feeling this way the most.

After he came back to the country alone he could never recover, he would relapse, overdose, refuse rehab or any medical help. He would escape psychiatrics facilities and hospitals in the middle of the night, he was a menace!! lmao.

Our relationship was still good despite all this, different but still standing, he had always been my friend even if he wasn't the best at being a dad or partner, I would always scold him and tell him of different job opportunities I came up with for him to try out but now there was this distance between us. I became the parent of the relationship in a way and he didn't like being told what to do. I saw him spiral and I was scared for him.

I've always heard all these stories about addicts finding purpose and fighting for their loved ones, so every time he would jokingly talk to me about how high he was and seemed to enjoy it despite my warnings and pleading it made me feel like I was not enough of a reason to get better, as self centered as it may be I was a teen and I felt powerless to stop him, insignificant. People could get better for their children, but not for me.

I knew this way of thinking was flawed and selfish and he was the one struggling, I knew he was a victim. I spent the last of my teenage years and early twenties trying to fight back this feeling so I could preserve our relationship, we always kept in contact but over time he changed and was no longer the person I knew.

He became a stranger, often times incoherent and delusional, his views changed, he was paranoid, his addiction got worse and worse and now all I could feel was pity and guilt, our once good relationship was now reduced to a few interactions where he would ask me for money, I knew I was possibly funding his self destruction and he was likely lying to me but he also needed to pay for medication and so I couldn't refuse him.

I had my own life now, a husband and plans for the future. When I decided to move abroad a few years ago I knew our hug goodbye could be the last, he was broke and unstable but I thought once I was settled and had a job and a citizenship I could have enough money to get him tickets to visit and show him the life I had made for myself like he had done in my childhood.

But then Covid happened, and he would never agree to make calls. Soon after he was diagnosed with cancer, I would ask about his health and he would say he was fine. He wasn't fine, he was smoking 4 packs a day. He got the cancer removed but refused further treatment, he said he didn't have any purpose left in life and no reasons to keep living, he had a stroke and couldn't feel half his body when he was forcibly hospitalized, his cancer had spread and he hadn't been eating for a long time, he hid all this from me, I first heard it from my aunt in tears over the phone yesterday, he tried to escape the hospital in the night and had to be tied up and sedated, he never woke up.

He died alone, all that is left of his family is me and my aunt and we both live in different countries. There is nobody there to even bury him. I feel like I abandoned him. I've always known I would feel this way when this day came, in a way I've been mourning him for many years and have carried this guilt for even longer.

I had the coolest dad, cocaine took him away. I wish this had a better and uplifting message. I just wanted to get this off my chest. He taught me a lot and made me who I am, and I have a lot of great memories with him. He struggled all of his life with his mental health and despite it all he was still amazing and deserved so much better.

He always said that when he was a ghost he would follow me around, I hope he isl!! so I can live for both of us, I love you dad!! and I'm so sorry 🕯️

[seeingivy]

narc

actor!eren x reader

**part of my method acting series

--

When you open the cabinet and pull out the box of chamomile tea, there’s a note with Eren’s distinct handwriting scribbled across it. 

Boil the water for six minutes.  Add one teaspoon of the dried flowers.  Let it sit for five minutes and then strain them out.  I usually add half a teaspoon of honey to sweeten it up for you :) 

You can’t help but look up at the frame on the left – a picture of you, Marco, Maya, and Eren – with the godawful cake he got you guys last year. 

Happy New Year Birthday Anniversary 4 

It seemed that too many big things coincided on the first day of the year. Marco and Maya’s birthday, you and Eren’s anniversary, the start of the new year – so much so that Eren decided that they all deserved one big cake together. 

You rub at your tired eyes, lazily smiling at the post-it as you pull it off the top of the box, and stick it back onto the counter. It’s a quiet solace, seeing his handwriting every time you pull the box out and you can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

You think it’s a little silly that at your very big age, Eren left you instructions on how to make tea. Sometimes it just makes you miss him more. 

You follow Eren’s quick instructions – his recent absence making you realize just how much it is that he does around the house – and open up your phone to see his location. 

He’s gone, still two thousand something miles away in California, at the hospital. You count the hours backwards, realizing that it’s probably midnight his time so he must be fast asleep and decide against calling him. 

You lean against the counter, your neck still slick from the cold sweat you woke up in, as you recount flashes of the dream you’ve been having for the past three nights. 

The dark freeway, a long white truck, and a blaring horn. 

The kettle clicks shut and you pour the water into the cup, watching the dried flowers seep a golden color to the liquid as you let it sit underneath the coaster. It must have been the pouring of the water, because you entirely miss the pitter patter of tiny footsteps – meaning, it catches you completely off guard when Marco’s wrapping his arm around your leg. 

“Can I have some?” 

You almost drop the kettle, your heart immediately racing from the shock of his presence, as you set it down, taking the few seconds to catch your breath. 

“Sorry. Did I scare you again, Mom?” he asks. 

You sigh, reaching down to lift him up onto the counter. 

“No, Marco. I was just distracted, honey, that’s all.” you respond. 

Marco gives you a distracted nod, messy brown hair and dull green eyes looking down at your cup, as he fiddles with his hands in his lap. Just like Eren. You reach forward, brushing through the tangles in his hair as you eye the clock. 

“What are you doing up?” 

“I thought you were Dad.” he responds.

You sigh, giving him a joking glare, before reaching forward to pinch his cheek. 

“I’m sorry to disappoint you, little man.” 

Marco gives you a smile, as you reach for the closest cabinet, and pull out the plastic glasses to pour some milk into. You set it to warm on the kettle, as you pour the honey into your cup, and swirl the spoon around. 

“Do you know when he’ll be back? Dad?” Marco asks. 

You pause. 

No. You don’t. 

“It’ll be soon, I’m sure of it. He’s just waiting to make sure that Uncle Connie’s perfectly set up before he comes back.” 

That was a half lie. Though, you found that you had to do that often – lie about things that were too difficult to explain to the two of them. 

Things that were too complicated, and more often than not, things you just wanted to protect them from. 

That they were just too little to know about. 

Marco and Maya asked you how their namesake, the real Marco died. It was easier to tell them that it was just a car accident, not intentional in how it occurred. They asked you why Eren had a bunch of faded lines on his back when you went swimming in the pool; it was just simpler to tell them that it was a birthmark. 

They asked who Teddy’s real father was and told him that it was Sukuna. Though that one wasn’t entirely a lie. But you know what they were trying to ask. 

And just two days ago, Maya asked you if her Uncle Connie was going to die. You told her that he was just getting a checkup, but that was the farthest thing from the truth. 

Years after the fact, it seemed that the poison that Connie was putting into his body had finally caught up to him – with not only one, but two defective kidneys. And after three years on the waiting list, by some horrible twist of fate for someone else but luck for all of you, Connie was finally getting his transplant. 

That was almost three weeks ago. He’s still recovering from the surgery – having taken a whole week to wake up, another one to sit up, and now trying to walk the corridor at the ward he was in. 

You had to let Eren go. You knew that he was going to be apart from you and the kids at some point and figured that this was the best time to get over that fear of being away from him, in the soft little bubble you’ve created for yourself. 

You shake the thought from your head – of Connie sitting there, frail and alone the last time you talked to him, since visiting hours were well over – and pour the milk into the cup. You hand it over to Marco, placing the cup securely in his hands, as you try to quiet the thoughts racing through your mind. 

Five things you can see. Four things you can touch, three you can hear, two you can smell, and one you can feel. 

Eren had whispered it to you when you dropped him off at the airport, a quiet thing he did to manage his own stress. 

“What are you thinking about?” Marco asks. 

You sigh, turning over to him, and giving him a smile. 

“Five things I can see.” you respond. 

Marco was well aware of the habit. He tended to be a little more sensitive which was worrying at first – but Zeke said that it was just something that he got from Eren. That he acted exactly like he did when he was a kid. 

“I can see you. And me. The cups. And two lightbulbs.” Marco responds. 

You smile. 

“I can touch the floor with my feet. And the back of the counter with my back. The cup with my hands. And your cheek with my fingers.” you respond, reaching forward to poke at the softness of his cheek. 

Marco returns the favor, giggling under his breath as he reaches forward, tiny fingers squishing at your skin. He absentmindedly leans forward, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before he continues. 

He was every bit as affectionate as Eren. 

“I can hear you. And me. And Maya sleeping.” 

“You can’t hear Maya sleeping from here, Marco.” 

“Yeah, I can. She’s all snotty at night.” 

“Honey, those are her allergies. She can’t control that.” you respond. 

If Marco acted like Eren did as a kid, then Maya was every bit a carbon copy of you. It was something that Falco and Colt parroted constantly – the biggest fans of all her little at home concerts, her fashion shows, and most of all, her singing. 

It seems that she got the seasonal allergies too. 

“I can smell your drink and my drink.” you respond, as you down the very last bit of your cup. 

Marco seems to follow suit, draining the last of the milk from the cup before he leans forward, short arms barely wrapping around your neck as you scoop him up into your arms. The time must have caught up to him, eyes quickly lidding shut, as you switch off the lights, and lead him back to his room. 

He whispers one last thing before you tuck him into bed. 

“I can feel you here with me.” 

It’s enough to put your mind at rest to go to sleep. 

--

The doorbell rings early the next morning – at seven on the dot – and sends Marco and Maya tumbling down the stairs, their little footsteps thundering as you open up the door to Lana, Sukuna, Teddy, and Grace.  

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching as Marco and Maya’s faces drop at the sight of them, and subsequently watch them drag themselves over to the dining table. 

“Is that anyway to say hello?” Sukuna asks, chest puffed up from the clear dismissal from the both of them – which albeit, is a rare occurrence.  

Sukuna marches straight through the doorway, Lana giving you a warning glance, as you watch him hunch over the chairs – his head hanging in between Marco and Maya’s – as he gives the two of them a little glare. 

“Angie. Are you not excited to see me?” 

Angie. Sukuna’s special nickname for Maya. 

“I thought you were Eren.” Maya responds. 

“I wish he was.” Gracie mumbles, earning her a glare from Sukuna. 

It worked out well enough. Eren was Gracie’s favorite, but Sukuna was Maya’s. Naturally it irritated the both of them well enough. 

You sigh, opening your arms up to the hug that Teddy’s offering you – which Grace piles on to – as you shoot her a warning glance. 

“Maya. You’re supposed to call him Dad.” you chide. 

“But you call him Eren.” she retorts back. 

“Yeah. Because he’s not my dad. He’s just Eren to me.” you respond. 

That earns you a laugh from Teddy, as he lets go and starts passing out the plates, with Lana helping you finish making the breakfast from the kitchen. 

“How are you holding up?” she asks. 

“Yeah, yeah. Same old. Did you talk to Connie at all today?” 

You watch as Lana frowns, which sends an immediate pang to your chest. 

Eren’s contingency plan on leaving you alone – since the three of you couldn’t possibly go with him – was making sure that you were taken care of. Which included him sending Lana and Sukuna over everyday for breakfast, just so you didn’t feel lonely. 

You guys tended to get fickle with how often you’d eat breakfast together – aiming for at least once a week – but you know Eren must have said something because they were here almost every other day. 

“Think he’s doing better.” Lana responds. 

You sigh. 

“Did you talk to Eren?” 

“Yeah.” 

Eren doesn’t seem like he’s fairing well either. But you figured as much – that it would be hard for him to see Connie in this condition, because the smallest voice in his head told him that it was all his fault. 

“I feel like he’s scared to let him go. He’s…he’s scared he’s going to die while he’s not looking.” you add. 

Lana nods. 

“He could have come back a week ago. Maryam was fine handling it but I just think he…but you know how he is with Connie. They’re like brothers.” 

You hum in response. Lana leans forward, resting her head against your shoulder, as you lean into the touch. 

“You’re better than me. I feel like I’d be ten different levels of crazy if Sukuna and Teddy weren’t telling me not to worry about him.” Lana responds. 

You shrug. 

“It’s fine for the most part. Marco and Maya keep me busy. Levi calls me everyday just to update me on his lawn mowing, which takes like four hours alone. It’s all fine, I just…keep having this really weird dream.” 

“Really?” she asks. 

“I don’t know. I don’t really remember the details. All I know is that…that I’m driving a car. There’s a honking sound and then a big truck that cuts me off and makes me crash. But for some reason, I feel like…I feel like I know the person driving the truck. Like they’re…they’re making fun of me or laughing or something.”

You watch as Lana squints her eyes at you, her touch suddenly stiff, as you give her a look. 

“What?” 

“Nothing. That is weird. But it’s just a dream.” Lana responds. 

“I mean, I know. But I just…I don’t get dreams. Let alone recurring ones. I feel like I know the person or…or something about it just feels really familiar that’s all. I wake up every night just thinking about it, trying to remember what it is that I saw.” 

Lana picks up the spoon, plating the last of the eggs into the dish, as she gives you a wary look over her shoulder. 

“Stress manifests in different ways. I think this Connie thing is just stressful. Being without Eren with the kids is stressful. I don’t think it means anything.” she adds. 

Lana leans forward, pressing a kiss against your cheek, before lifting the plates, gesturing for you to follow as you take them over to the table. You take your seat next to Sukuna – who’s clearly won over Maya in the past few minutes that you were gone – as you sit next to Grace. 

“I like the ribbon, Gracie.” 

“I’m glad you said that. I made one for you too.” 

Lana taught Gracie how to sow, meaning that every time she came over, she left a few more ribbons for your collection. You rarely wore them anymore, but it was nice to keep all the gifts Gracie made for you – pink lace, little charms in the fabric. 

There’s immediate chatter the second everyone’s hands start moving – Sukuna and Maya whispering under their breaths, Teddy, Lana, and Marco talking about the recent soccer game – and the only thing you can think about is how the chair next to you is empty. 

That Eren would have been here asking Teddy about when his spelling bee is so he could go. And that he’d cut Maya’s fruits into stars with Sukuna just because she likes them that way. 

“Do you miss Eren?” 

You lean forward, placing your hand on Grace’s shoulder, as you give her a smile. 

“Just a little, Gracie. But that’s normal.” you respond. 

“He’ll be back soon enough. And Falco and Gabi should be back next week, so…we’ll have more people at breakfast. We’ll have to start ordering chairs for how many of us there are.” 

You laugh. 

“That’s a good problem to have.” 

You can’t help but think that three blocks down, only a few years prior, Eren, Lana, and Teddy used to eat breakfast together every morning, because that’s all they had. And now you barely had enough seats to fill the table. 

You think about how it would kill you if Connie never came back to eat breakfast with you guys. 

“Y/N. Can you help me practice for the spelling bee tomorrow?” Teddy asks. 

You smile. 

“Of course, Teddy Bear.” 

Teddy curls his nose in disgust. 

“Y/N. Don’t call me that. It’s not cool.” he murmurs. 

The older Teddy gets, the more he seems to curl his nose at all of the sweet nicknames you all have for him. He barely lets Eren hug him anymore, instead trying to make weird over complicated handshakes – that Eren can obviously never remember. 

Your phone buzzes on the table to four texts from Eren. 

[eren]: connie made a very obscure pop culture reference today that honestly kind of freaked out his VERY old nurse

[eren]: it was giving ** erwin ** 

[eren]: the world is healing 

[eren]: i miss you! 

--

You appreciate the routine of things. That every night, you comb through Maya and Marco’s wet hair, that you all brush your teeth together, and that you all read a story together before you go to sleep. 

“I have a question.” 

You close the little book – an old version of Goodnight Moon that Jean and Mikasa gifted you when Marco and Maya were born – and slide it into the shelf. 

“Do share, Miss Maya.” you respond. 

That’s what Eren always calls her. Miss Maya. 

“How did you spend so much time away from Eren?” Maya asks.

“Maya.” you berate. 

“Sorry. Dad. How did you spend so much time away from Dad? Like before when you were little?” she asks. 

You pause. 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s only been a few weeks and…and I miss him.” Maya mumbles, the tiniest crack in her voice. 

You can feel your chest ache as you lean forward, wrapping your arms around her little body as she leans up, her salty tears spilling straight onto your neck. 

“Oh, Maya.” you coo. 

“I know he’s gone for a good reason and I’m not mad at him. I’m sad about Uncle Connie too but I just wish he was here. And Uncle Connie was too.” she responds, voice muffled by how she’s burying her face into your shirt. 

It’s not even a few seconds before you hear another set of sniffling, only to find Marco getting out of his bed and clinging to your side too. 

You can’t help it – you can’t help that there’s warm tears in your eyes too as you rest your head against their freshly shampooed hair, and hold them tight. 

You sit there quietly for some time – Marco and Maya’s tears subsiding long before yours – but they make no inclination of letting go. You appreciate that. And it’s not long before they fall asleep, before you tuck them into their sheets, and wipe your own tears before going to bed.

The pictures of Connie on the wall feel like they’re mocking you. 

And like clockwork, it happens again. 

A cold sweat down your back – because the truck almost hits you, because you swear you can hear laughing, and a clicking sound that you can’t really place. You’re barely asleep for two hours. 

You make a mental note. That the clicking sound is new, but you still can’t really remember much besides that. Only that it’s really dark. 

When you make it down to the kitchen, you find Marco hunched over, with Maya on his back. You can’t help but laugh – only because this reminds you of Colt – and watch them for a second before interrupting. 

“Push higher.” 

“I’m trying to, you’re too heavy, Maya.” 

“I can’t reach the cups from here.” 

“Okay, okay. I’m trying. That’s easy to say from down there.” 

You flick the last of the lights open – the ones they can’t reach – as they both turn around, Maya nearly toppling off his back – as you put your hands on your hips. 

“You want my help?” 

“Please.” Maya groans. 

Maya rubs the sore spot on her back, giving you a quiet nod as Marco moves over, and you reach for the cups. The two of them drain their cups of milk the second you fill them – clearly overexerted from the rhythmic gymnastics they were attempting a few minutes ago – as you nurse the cup of chamomile in your hand. 

“You know, this is way better when Eren makes it.” Maya states. 

You roll your eyes. 

“Dad.” 

“It’s too bitter when you do it.” 

You shake your head at Maya, reaching forward to pinch her cheek before responding. 

“My apologies, Miss Maya. I’ll call him tomorrow and ask him what he puts in yours. Knowing him, he does something different for each of us to make sure that we like it.” you respond. 

So quick to accommodate, an endless amount of space in his mind to remember everything – Maya wears ribbons on Thursdays, she doesn’t like the purple ones. Marco likes to read Goodnight Moon in the winter, not the summer, because the bunny reminds him of snow. 

The light in the doorway flicks on, accompanied by a very tired looking Eren, who gives you a very weak smile through the dim light.

“I put honey in Maya’s because she thinks it’s bitter, sweetheart. Only half a teaspoon, because then she gets kind of antsy.” Eren mumbles. 

You turn to your left and watch as Maya and Marco both try to tumble off the counter, excited giggles as they run over to Eren, clinging on to the fabric of his shirt as they basically scream in his ear. 

You can feel warm tears burning in the back of your eyes as Eren leans down, arms wrapped around the two of them, as he seems to breathe a sigh of relief – nestling his head in between the two of theirs. 

You’re almost positive that he missed them more than they missed him.

Which was saying something. 

“Hi M&M.” Eren mumbles. 

Their favorite candy. For obvious reasons. 

“You too, sweetheart. Come here.” Maya adds, extending out one of her hands to you. 

You swallow down the burning feeling in your throat, taking one last look up to dry your tears, before crouching down on the ground with them, Eren’s hand being the one that wraps around you first. 

“Maya. It’s Mommy. Not sweetheart.” Eren chides. 

You can’t help but laugh – remembering that it was only a few months ago that Maya realized that your name wasn’t actually sweetheart, that it was just a nickname that Eren used for you – as you lean your temple against his. 

“Okay, it’s really late. Dad’s going to tuck you into bed, okay?” you respond. 

Marco and Maya give you an affirmative nod, as Eren scoops both of them up into an arm each – something you’re too weak to do at this point – as you watch them all trail down the hallway. 

“Did you miss me?” Eren asks. 

“So much. We even cried about it earlier!” Marco responds. 

Eren immediately frowns as he kicks his shoes off at the door, quietly padding into the darkness of their room. Lana’s phone call was very brief – only warning him about the weird dreams you were having – but he didn’t realize that they were feeling it too. 

Eren sets them both down, reaching for Maya first as he tucks the sheets in around her. 

“Buddy, what do you mean by that? You cried about it earlier?” Eren asks, glancing over his shoulder. 

“We all miss you so much we cried. Even sweetheart.” Maya responds. 

Eren doesn’t take the time to correct her. He reaches down, pressing a kiss to Maya’s forehead, before brushing through the flyaways around her head. 

“She did?” 

“Mhm. Longer than me and Marco too. I heard Auntie Lana say it’s because she’s having weird dreams about Marco. You know, the other Marco. The one who died.” 

Eren nods. It’s the only reason that he was able to bring himself home and leave Connie. Only because he didn’t realize how fast time had passed. 

“I know the one.” 

“She’s okay though. She told me herself.” Maya adds. 

Eren sighs. 

“I know she is.” 

Eren switches over to Marco’s side which makes his chest pang a little bit more – the seeping ache of being gone for so long, to be at his side – making his throat burn. 

“Everything good, Marco?” 

It’s at that second that Marco jumps out of his sheets, little arms wrapped around his neck, as Eren sinks against his shoulder. 

“Is Uncle Connie okay?” 

Eren smiles. 

“He went home last night, Marco. He’s going to be just fine.” Eren responds. 

Marco gives him a nod, before lying back down against the sheets. 

“I heard Uncle Sukuna say that Mommy was just scared that he was going to die. He’s not going to die, right?” 

Eren makes a mental note to call Lana and Sukuna tomorrow and ask them to refrain from gossiping until they get home.  

“He’s not going to die, Marco. He’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Connie really missed you both.” 

Marco gives him a nod, Eren pressing one last lingering kiss to his forehead, before padding out of the room and flicking the light shut. Eren shuffles back out to the kitchen, noting the open packet of ramen on the counter, as he leans forward, wrapping his arms around your frame. 

He’d deal with them in the morning. You first. 

Eren can’t help but nestle into the crook in your shoulder – and noting that you immediately flinch at the feeling. 

“Sorry. I meant to shave before I got back. I know it tickles.” Eren whispers. 

You laugh. 

“S’okay. I’ll help you tomorrow, Eren.” you mumble. 

Eren leans down, breathing in the sweet smell of your shampoo and soap mixed in, as he leans his cheek against yours. 

Eren ranked all the moments in his head. Sweet memories that felt like lightbulbs to him – the way they stuck out in his memory – but he always had his favorites. 

Watching Maya play the piano. Teaching Marco how to take polaroids of you and Maya. Marco meeting Armin and Maya telling Jean his haircut sucked. 

And his personal favorite was letting his beard grow out just to the point where it annoyed you – just so you’d offer to shave it for him. Attentive fingers, eyes focused and without fail, a sweet kiss and a hug at the end for his clean shaven face. 

It was one of the things that was always promised. That you’d complain, that he’d pretend to hate it when you shaved his beard, and that you’d kiss him afterwards. That you’d taste like toothpaste because you just brushed your teeth and then go to sleep next to him after the fact. 

Eren can’t help but squeeze harder. 

“You know, you’ll cut off my circulation any second now.” 

“Any reason you didn’t come running at me?” Eren asks. 

“The little speedsters beat me to it. They missed you a lot, you know?” you respond. 

Eren laughs. 

“Not as much as you.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Eren shrugs. It takes you three seconds to clock it, before you roll your eyes. 

Of course they told him that you cried earlier. 

“Who was the narc?” 

“There was no narc. I just know how to read you really well.” Eren responds

“Eren.” 

“A gentleman never tells.” 

“I know they both told you. I just want to know who did it first.” you clarify. 

Eren smiles. 

“Marco, of course.” 

You laugh. 

“He’s really living up to the name. The only narc bigger than him was the other Marco.” 

Telling Jean when Mikasa was upset at him. Telling Connie that Sasha forgot his birthday. 

You feel Eren lift off of you, two hands firm on your shoulder, as he drags you closer to him. It’s warm hands that cup your face and it’s only then that you notice that his green eyes are rimmed with red and that he looks tired. 

“I missed you too, you know?” Eren whispers. 

You smile. 

“I know.” 

“You can just ask Maryam. I even cried about it.” 

You snort, the tiniest wave of embarrassment peeling off of you, as you lean forward, wrapping your hands around his face. 

“Really?” 

“You already know that I’m already of the opinion that I’ve spent far too much of my life without you. That includes two weeks in California, Y/N.” Eren responds, voice soft. 

You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“How’s Connie?” you ask. 

Eren smiles. 

“He brought a framed picture of all of us from our wedding to the hospital room. He’s been fine this entire time.” 

You snort. 

“Typical.” 

Eren laughs. 

“He told the nurse you were his sister when she asked about the picture. So much so that they were ready to add you to his health documents and start screening you for blood diseases or some shit because he thought you were actually related.” 

You both laugh. And you relish in the fact that Connie was still there, underneath his beaten body. 

“Teddy is coming tomorrow for spelling bee practice. Gracie gave me two new ribbons – pink and purple with lace – and Maya wasn’t even excited to see Sukuna yesterday.” you state. 

Eren’s eyes light up. 

“Really?” 

“Hold your horses, Eren. It took her two seconds before she was happy to see him again.” 

Eren rolls his eyes. 

“Well, Gracie’s coming tomorrow, so he can kiss my ass. And Falco too in a few days and you know I’m obviously his favorite.” Eren asks. 

You shake your head at him. Always trying to one up Sukuna – something that was natural, since they were both so good with kids. 

“You know, I didn’t even realize how big our family got before our eyes.” you whisper. 

Eren smiles, before leaning forward, and closing the space between the two of you. He tastes like the remnants of the cookie – dusted sugar and coffee – hanging on his lips. 

“Sometimes I forget I used to dream about this entire thing. Being away kind of reminded me of that.”  Eren whispers. 

“This entire thing?” 

“You and me, the most. But also friends that live a few streets away. Teddy feeling like he has cousins and…and having kids.” 

You smile. 

“You know your kids adore you, right? 

Eren smiles. 

“They just have a recency bias. They love you way more than me.” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I don’t make their milk right.” 

Eren pinches your cheek. 

“And I don’t do Maya’s hair the way she likes it or make Marco’s bed properly. Same thing.” 

You smile.. 

“They love us both. We’re both very lucky to have two healthy kids and a family that’s…that’s mostly healthy, that’s all together.” 

Eren pauses, a light glisten in his eyes. You can tell that he doesn’t feel that. 

“Eren?” 

“Tell me about this dream of yours.” he mumbles. 

You groan. 

“Lana?” 

“Technically Maya mentioned it too.” Eren adds. 

You smile. 

“It’s just a weird dream that I’ve been having. S’always dark and I’m driving. There’s a horn and clicking and I just wake up feeling all frazzled. I think I was just worrying about Connie too much.” you respond. 

Eren shrugs. 

“Maybe.” 

“You don’t sound very convinced.” you state.

Eren sighs, scooching over as he leans towards the bowl of simmering noodles, straining them into the bowl that you have placed at the side. You can’t help but lean against his arm, Eren absentmindedly placing a kiss in your hair, as you watch the steam. 

“Did you know that Maryam drove me to the hospital everyday to see Connie?” 

You snort. 

“Do you have no concern for your life? You are a father now, you know?” 

You’re half convinced that Maryam hypnotized someone to get her license at the DMV. Or that she somehow became legally blind the few minutes that she sat behind the wheel. 

“I mean, I do. But I just couldn’t bring myself to drive.” 

You pause. 

“Really?” 

“Yeah. I would just sit in the chair and get all…all anxious just sitting there. I couldn’t even put the key in the engine.” 

You lean forward, rubbing your hands up and down his biceps. 

“Any reason why?” you ask. 

Eren signs, before leaning forward, with his eyes focused on the calendar. 

“You know, you always forget to change the calendar.” 

“I don’t really look at it.” you state. 

Eren leans forward, switching the page from last month to the current one, which is when you notice it. 

That it’s June. That it’s been June for a few days now and that you didn’t even keep track of the numbers. 

“When did your dream start?” Eren asks. 

You get it now. 

“Four days ago.” you state, throat dry. 

Eren gives you a halfhearted smile, as he counts backwards, all the way to June 11th. 

The day that Marco died. And you didn’t even realize. That you went about your business that day – taking Maya to piano, dropping off Teddy at school – and you didn’t even think about it. 

“Oh my god, Eren.” you mumble. 

“That’s when I couldn’t drive. I…I didn’t necessarily remember, but…but it just felt wrong.” 

“I forgot.” you whisper. 

“So did I.” Eren responds. 

You feel the tears burn out of your sockets as you realize – realize that Marco’s death anniversary passed and you forgot, that you were already in the early hours of his birthday and you didn’t remember – and that time was passing so fast you can’t even remember what he looks like anymore. 

You can’t help but lean forward, wracking quiet tears into Eren’s shoulder, as you realize the dream. The clicking sounds were camera flashes, the car cuts you off and you crash, and you feel like you know them, because the paparazzi always seem familiar to you. 

You were dreaming about Marco dying. From Marco’s perspective. And Eren can’t get in the car, because he’s petrified it’s going to happen to him. 

The thought crosses your mind that Eren rushed back so fast – so fast because he was worried about you. 

Not because of the dream, but because of that day. Because when Lana told him that Marco died – she didn’t specify his name. And his first thought was you – he thought you were the one who died. 

He was always reminded of it, that feeling, whenever the day came around. The fear of you dying. You wonder if it crossed his mind a few days ago. 

Eren lets go, shuffling behind you to rummaging through the fridge. 

“Anything close to cake?” 

“There should be a cookie or two. Maybe at the top.” you mumble. 

Eren slams the door shut behind you, as you reach for the drawer on the left, pulling out the colored flame candles from Grace’s surprise birthday, as Eren joins you at your side, plating the cookie in the center. 

You jam the wax candle into the center, Eren quick with the matches at your side as you watch the flame light up purple, and the two of you lean closer to the warmth. 

It was the one tradition that you and Eren afforded yourself. That every year on Marco’s birthday, you made a wish for him. And after the fact, you wouldn’t reminisce on it at all – not unless it was happy. 

It’s what he would have wanted. 

“You first, Eren.” 

Eren sighs. 

“I wish you were still here with us. But I hope you’re happy wherever you are, Marco.” 

Eren’s wish is the same every year. 

You smile, leaning your head against Eren’s shoulder. 

“I know you told us you’d haunt us if we ever apart, but I didn’t realize that applied to domestic travel, Marco.” 

Eren gives you a teary laugh. 

“I hope you’re resting easy, wherever you are. Come visit me in my dreams the good way. Keep all the bad stuff away.” you mumble.

You and Eren give each other a look, before lightly blowing out the candles together, and wrapping yourselves in each other’s embrace. 

You remember shreds of a very vague dream the next morning. 

It’s your wedding day. But somehow Marco and Maya are there, giggling as they pass the two of you rings. 

And the other Marco’s standing there too, smiling and giving his approval.

--

an: ah yes. method acting in the lords month august 2024. had to make it angsty for obvious reasons. we all know who I am at my core. also why did this make me cry I miss this fic so much

taglist: @k0z3me @sugu-love @yihona-san06  @bsenpai @sweetenertea @mykyoon @violetmatcha  @rebeccawinters @cutiejg @bokutosthings @bookwrmm @mblrrr @wheredidmycrowngo @somethinginyoureyes7 @chilichopsticks @okaystopwhore @you-always-made-me-blush @itzmeme @firelordazulaaaa @whoami-72 @g-ghostly @intimacywithceline @erensmoodygf @chericos @princess-ackerman @jaegerfiles @cacapeepee @rui-0836 @moonmalice @invisible-mori i @sofiasber @bbybeeb @timetobegone @tee4str @ttokki2 @leave-rae-alone @ec3lipsy @officialsimpp @gojojang @yookayyo @lordbugs @multiplefandomthings @iobeyfandoms @camilo-uwu @justanotherkpopstanlol @mel-star636 @fvckingeetar @ttalgi @najaemism @ilovekimchi123 @youraggedybitch @xoyumiqls @leafguitar @dreamy-carat @spiidergirlsworld @luvs4kim @levin4nami @florichun @hoonmyluv

[steddieas-shegoes]

i'm glad i get forever to see where you end

for @messessentialist's birthday. i already said it all on ao3, but i love you biiiiitch. happy birthday, kissin you on the lips with tongue, cuddling you while we steal cool rocks from national parks (allegedly).

rated e | 14,135 words | cw: minor character deaths offscreen, brief discussion of grief and mourning, alcohol | check ao3 for all tags

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

He stares down at the paper in his hands. He thought he’d feel relief, maybe a tiny bit of happiness that he’d never admit to. He even considered that he might feel a small speck of sadness the day his brother died.

But all Wayne Munson feels right now is disbelief and anger, and he doesn’t know where to hide it before Eddie gets home.

“God damn idiot. Couldn’t even have the decency to die of old age. Had to go and get killed behind bars,” Wayne mutters under his breath as he folds the paper and slips it back into the envelope, hoping that keeping it out of sight might help him come to terms with the emotions flooding his chest. “Bullshit.”

Wayne is tired. He feels exhaustion in his bones, even in his fresh retirement.

For some, retirement is a time to reflect on the life you’ve lived and experience the things you couldn’t while you worked and raised a family. For others, retirement never happens at all.

For Wayne, retirement is a reminder that he almost lost his nephew, his son, and the government had to make sure he wouldn’t say a damn thing about how.

He knows he shouldn’t complain, but damn he sure would like to.

And now he has to figure out a way to tell Eddie that his father got killed in prison. The letter doesn’t say much, just that it was violent and the person responsible for his death is facing further consequences. As if Wayne cares about that. As if it helps explain this situation to a boy who already lost enough.

He sighs as he grabs a beer from the fridge and glances at the clock. Eddie should be home soon. He can’t hold onto this for too long; The news will get out soon enough and he’ll hear it from somewhere else, somewhere who won’t take the time to see what Eddie needs.

He takes a sip of the beer, then another, hoping the next taste of the bitter hops will help him decipher what he needs to say to Eddie.

It’s almost a blessing that Eddie doesn’t arrive home for another hour, giving Wayne time to finish his beer and get started on dinner.

Wayne is already prepared to ask Steve to head out tonight instead of linger, using the excuse of making sure Eddie doesn’t need anything before he goes. Usually Wayne finds it endearing, and hopes Eddie can see what’s so obvious there, but not tonight.

But Steve doesn’t walk in with Eddie.

Eddie’s humming something when he walks in, setting his cane against the table before sitting down in a chair and looking at Wayne with a smile.

“Hey, Wayne. How’s your day been?”

Wayne knows he’s about to ruin Eddie’s day at the very least and he’s not sure if he wants that task. He silently curses Al Munson again, wishing for someone to show up and say it was a mistake just so he doesn’t have to do this.

“Oh, boring. Ya know I hate retirement,” Wayne says as he brushes off the stress, tries to figure out a way to lead in to the news naturally. “Too much time on my hands.”

“You love fishing, though. Thought that’s where you went all morning.”

Wayne nodded. “You’re right about that. Guess I just like keeping my mind busy.”

He’s met with silence, which leads him to looking over to the table, where Eddie is staring at the envelope the letter came in.

Why did he leave it out in the open like that? It’s clearly marked from the prison.

“What’s this?” Eddie asks, always curious to the point of danger. “Dad get out?”

This was one of the worst things Wayne ever had to do and that’s saying something. Vietnam wasn’t for the weak, losing the love of his life nearly killed him, and seeing Eddie in a hospital bed after just barely escaping death is something he’d feel deep in his chest for years. But this was up there.

“No, son,” Wayne sighed, turning away from the pot on the stove. Beef stew and bread with butter was one of Eddie’s favorites, but it took a lot of work. That didn’t matter as much as making sure Eddie had support. “They sent a letter to let me know your dad passed away.”

Eddie didn’t look away from the letter. He was playing with the rings on his fingers, replaced by Steve the moment he realized they were missing in the hospital.

“Did they say how?” Eddie finally asked, still not looking up at Wayne.

“They just said another inmate was responsible. I don’t know any details. I’m sorry, Ed. Really sorry.”

And he is. Despite the fact that Al was a terrible father and made Eddie’s life harder than it should have ever been, he knows Eddie must have a lot of complicated emotions.

“Welp!” Eddie claps his hands on his thighs before finally looking back up at Wayne. “Guess that’s that.”

“It…is?” Wayne is trying to watch for any sign of discomfort or sadness, maybe anger. He sees none.

“Yeah. Not like I’ve really had him around to feel much of a loss.” Eddie smiles. It’s not fake, at least not according to Wayne’s judgment. “You’ve been my dad more than he ever was.”

Wayne feels warmth spreading in his chest at the thought of Eddie seeing him as his parent. It makes sense, but he’s never outright said something. Sure, he gave him Father’s Day cards, often handmade. And yeah, he braved a fishing trip every year for Wayne’s birthday because he knew it meant a lot to him. There was that one time he’d called him Dad when he was on morphine in the hospital.

Hearing it changes something in Wayne.

“You really feel that way, kid?” Wayne asks, sitting down at the table across from Eddie.

“Yeah. I kinda thought you knew that already.”

“Guess it’s nice to hear anyway.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t need to.

A few minutes goes by before Wayne stands up and walks over to the stew, giving it a stir and taking a spoonful out to test the carrots and beef.

“Is that beef stew?” Eddie asks as the scent hits him.

“Sure is.”

“You were worried about how this was gonna go, huh?” Eddie teases, smirk evident in his voice.

“A little. Can’t blame me, can ya?” Wayne decides it’s done and turns off the stove. He’s grabbing two bowls from the cabinet when the front door opens.

“You forgot the meds!” Steve yells as he runs into their kitchen with a bottle of prescription pills in his hand. He freezes when he sees Wayne dishing out stew. “Sorry. Uh. Am I interrupting?”

Wayne laughs around a sigh, reaching up to grab a third bowl.

“No, have a seat, son. Just gettin’ ready to eat.”

Eddie stands and limps his way to Steve, taking the pill bottle to pocket it before he leans further in his space.

“I’m an orphan!”

Steve’s jaw drops and Wayne does all he can not to laugh. It’s not funny, and he knows that Eddie’s probably not processing the news properly yet, but he’d rather laugh than cry.

“Sorry, what?”

“My dad’s dead. The biological one in prison. Rest in peace to the man who gave me, like, two useful skills and musical talent.” Eddie is still leaning into Steve’s space and Wayne’s watching, waiting.

“I’m sorry, Eddie, that sucks.”

“Nah, it sucks that he was such a shitty dad I barely even feel sad that he’s dead.” Ah, there it is. That’s why he’s doing better than Wayne expected. “I’ve got Wayne.”

“Damn right,” Wayne adds as he pulls spoons out of the drawer. “Let’s eat.”

Steve seems lost for a moment as he looks between Wayne and Eddie, unsure what else to say in this admittedly strange situation.

He finally grabs two bowls off the counter and sets them in his and Eddie’s spots at the table.

“Let’s eat.”

- - -

Two days pass before it really hits Eddie.

Wayne’s been waiting.

Nothing major happens. Eddie doesn’t break down in tears or lash out in anger. He doesn’t even mention saying goodbye in some way.

“We should go on a trip.” He says to Wayne while they’re eating breakfast.

“What kinda trip?” Wayne asks without looking up from his newspaper.

“Camping. Or maybe cabin-ing. Somewhere with walls and running water.” Eddie sounds breathless, like he’s run a marathon. Wayne finally looks up and sees the look in his eyes. “Could go fishing and roast marshmallows and swim and stuff. Like that one time.”

He’s talking about the trip they took together a few months after he moved in permanently. His mama was gone and his dad was sitting in jail waiting for sentencing on an armed robbery turned homicide. Wayne wanted to get Eddie’s mind off everything before he had to go back to school, so he took him up to a friend’s cabin at the lake for a few days.

Eddie’s never been an outside person, but they had fun there.

It was the first time Wayne felt like Eddie was his.

It may have been the first time Eddie felt safe with Wayne, too.

“I could see if that cabin’s available. My buddy doesn’t rent it out much anymore so I’m sure he’d be fine with us using it.”

“Could Steve come?”

“Sure.”

He agrees without a second thought.

This is Eddie’s way of seeking comfort in the people he has left, he can see it from a mile away. If Eddie needs Steve to come with them, it’s no skin off Wayne’s back.

Plus, Wayne can recognize how badly Steve needs to relax. He can’t believe someone as young as him walks with so much tension in his shoulders and lines on his forehead.

“Sweet. He’s never been fishing,” Eddie explains. “Or hiking in the right side up. At least not proper hiking. I guess we aren’t really doing proper hiking. I’m wearing jeans. Can’t be real hiking.”

Wayne smiles down at the sports section of the paper, nodding and humming in agreement when Eddie recommends something else for their trip.

- - -

Steve tries insisting on taking his car as his contribution to the weekend, but Wayne tells him they need the space in his truck for all their gear. It occurs to him when Steve just blinks back at him that Eddie didn’t explain how much is actually involved in all this.

But Wayne takes the time to show him some of the stuff he already has packed in the bed of his truck.

“I thought we were staying in a cabin. Why do we have a tent?” Steve sounds nervous when he asks.

“It’s not a full tent. Just a canopy to hang up to protect us from the sun if we get caught up somewhere during our hike.”

“Hike?” Steve turns towards the trailer, glaring at Eddie, who is too busy trying to figure out which of his sneakers to wear to notice. “He didn’t say anything about hiking. I don’t have boots or, or, anything!”

Wayne grabs Steve’s shoulders, looks him in the eye, and lets out a laugh.

“Do ya think Eddie would agree to go on a hike that requires special boots?” Wayne shakes his head. “Don’t think I could bribe him to go on anything but an easy trail unless that Lars guy from Metallica was at the end of it.”

“So I’ll be fine in my Nikes?” Steve clarifies.

“Better than.” Wayne turns back to the truck bed. “I grabbed an extra pole for ya, but it’s a bit short. We can make it work, though.”

Steve stares at everything piled into the truck. Wayne stares at Steve.

He can’t read him quite like he can read Eddie, not yet, but he’s got a feeling that Steve’s overwhelmed by the effort. Wayne doesn’t know much about his upbringing, but he can imagine it was pretty lonely what with his parents being gone more than they were home.

He’s certain Richard Harrington wouldn’t even know how to cast a line, let alone catch a fish.

“Wayne! Should I just bring both?” Eddie’s standing barefoot on the top step of the deck, holding two pairs of sneakers up.

“Sure, Ed.” Wayne looks down at his bare feet and wrinkles his nose. “Don’t forget your socks.”

“Does he do that a lot?” Steve asks, still staring at everything in the truck.

“Not so much anymore. When he’s got a lot on his mind, though, he forgets little stuff. Socks, underwear, eating.” Wayne could go on, but he’s pretty sure Eddie will kill him if he does. “He’s excited for this trip so it probably isn’t at the front of his mind.”

“Right, yeah. I noticed that.” Steve finally looks at Wayne, small smile on his face. Fond, Wayne would say. “He was so caught up on picking up the kids for game night, he forgot the games.”

“Sounds like our boy,” Wayne said, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from Steve at his words.

But Steve’s smile grew, his cheeks flushing a light pink. He looked over at where Eddie had been standing moments ago, and Wayne watches him.

“Steve, I feel like-“

“Wayne! We forgot hot dogs!” Eddie calls from inside the trailer, front door wide open allowing him to see Eddie’s movement by the fridge. “And buns!”

Steve looks back at Wayne. “I can run and get some while you finish up here.”

“I already grabbed them. Check that red cooler and the bag next to it,” Wayne gestured towards three coolers along the side of the truck bed. “He wasn’t payin’ attention when I told him I was packin’ everything.”

“Not surprising.”

“We got it all Ed! Throw your bag in and let’s go!” Wayne calls towards the trailer. “He’s gonna throw a fit about ridin’ in the middle, but that’s what he gets for bein’ a bean pole.”

Steve snorts as he walks over to open the passenger door. “He’ll live.”

Wayne thinks Steve’s gonna fit right in.

- - -

The cabin is off the beaten path. It’s actually off of all paths. They’re lucky that Wayne’s friend visited recently to clear bushes and trees away so they could get to it.

Forest surrounds it on three sides, the lake is in the back.

It’s quiet, an escape for all of them, but especially for Eddie. Whatever thoughts are trying to cloud Eddie’s mind might just float away in the fresh air if he manages to relax enough.

They unload the truck efficiently, bringing everything inside except the fishing equipment, which stays on the front porch so Wayne can load it on the boat before nightfall. He doesn’t bother locking his truck up; There’s no one around for two miles at least.

Steve’s loading things into the fridge and Eddie’s…

“Where’s Ed?” Wayne asks as he grabs his duffel bag to bring to one of the bedrooms.

“Said he wanted to see how cold the water is,” Steve shrugs, shoving the beer to the side so he can make room for Eddie’s Mountain Dew. “Told him it’s probably not that cold since it’s August.”

“Anything less than boiling is too cold for that one,” Wayne chuckles. “I’ll go load the boat.”

He goes out the back door, immediately locating Eddie at the water’s edge. At least he didn’t go far. He was a bit of a flight risk at the best of times and these weren’t really the best of times.

His shoes and socks are off, sitting in the mix of sand and rocks that make up the shoreline. The rocks are smooth, worn down over thousands of years of water and animals and people. Perfect for skipping across the top of the water, splashes disrupting the calm of a lake with few visitors this close to the end of summer.

Wayne showed Eddie how to skip rocks years ago, not on this lake, but a much smaller one that they’d visited for the day the summer before he started high school. It took him about 100 tries before he got it, but when he did, he’d beamed back at Wayne, proud of himself for possibly the first time in his life.

But he’s not skipping rocks now. He’s standing at the shoreline, where the small waves break against the sand, staring out at the horizon. Wayne is tempted to leave him be, but he can’t.

He walks up behind him, makes sure to clear his throat so he isn’t completely startled when Wayne stops right where the water stops. It licks right at the toes of his boots, but they’re his work ones, steel-toe.

Eddie turns and gives him a small smile.

“Sorry, just wanted to dip my feet in.” Eddie apologizes as if Wayne would care that he’s already finding solace in the solitude of the lake.

“Stay out here as long as you want, kid. You okay?” Wayne watches as Eddie’s hands curl into fists and then relax against his thighs.

“Yeah. Thanks for bringing me out here. I’ll help load the boat,” Eddie offers, already turning towards Wayne fully and taking a step out of the water. Wayne holds his hand up to stop him. “What?”

“I got it. You can help pack the cooler in the mornin’.”

Eddie shrugs and turns back to the lake.

Wayne watches him for another minute, silent so he doesn’t disturb whatever thoughts are brewing in Eddie’s head.

As he walks back to the porch to grab the tackle boxes and poles for the boat, he sees Steve watching Eddie out the kitchen window, concerned frown and furrowed brow on his face.

Steve doesn’t notice him.

- - -

The first night is Wayne making dinner while Steve and Eddie argue over which side of the queen sized bed they’re sleeping on. He can’t help but laugh at how quickly it went from calmly suggesting the other person sleeps on the window side to personal insults.

When he hears Eddie say something about Steve’s hair being too big, he shouts for them to join him.

Dinner is relatively peaceful considering the warzone that was their shared bedroom moments before sitting down to eat. Everyone enjoys the chicken and green beans Wayne cooked, barely leaving any for leftovers. They talk about their plans for the morning, and Steve offers to clean up after they eat so Wayne can have an early night.

It’s kind of him, but he already knows their arguing is just gonna wake him up if they haven’t settled on the bed issue.

“How about you take turns sleepin’ by the window?” Wayne asks before agreeing to an early bedtime. “That way it’s fair.”

“But who has to sleep there tonight?” Eddie asks, sticking his tongue out at Steve.

“Rock, paper, scissors?”

“That’s stupid.”

Wayne raises his brow at Eddie’s crossed arms. “Draw straws then.”

“We don’t have straws.” Steve looks around the kitchen, trying to find something they can use in place of straws, but fails. “It’s fine. I’ll take the window.”

Wayne can tell he doesn’t want to, and he’s pretty sure he can guess why neither of them is thrilled with sleeping directly under a window that looks out into a dense forest, but Steve’s a self-sacrificial kind of guy. That’s been clear for as long as Wayne’s known him.

He also knows that Eddie, even as stubborn as he is, wouldn’t let a friend feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll take it tonight.” Eddie offers.

“No, it’s okay. I can take it.”

Wayne rolls his eyes. “Y’all will argue over anything.”

Steve and Eddie both turn to him with matching grins. “Mhm.” They agree in unison.

“Eddie takes window tonight,” Wayne says. “Steve can have it tomorrow night. Whoever catches the biggest fish this weekend gets to pick on the last night.”

“Sounds fair,” Steve nods, turning to Eddie to see if he agrees.

“Sure. Fair.” Eddie stands and starts clearing the drinks from the table.

Wayne decides to leave before he gets dragged into a new disagreement. He’s only got so much patience.

He’s not surprised to hear them go out the back door after the sun sets, voices quiet, but still audible through Wayne’s open bedroom window.

They don’t go far, just past the porch, about halfway to the water.

“You know, my dad would never have done anything like this with me,” Steve states, only a small hint of bitterness in his tone. “He didn’t believe in bonding time or whatever. Thought that was for fathers and sons who didn’t have a family business to maintain.”

“My dad never did either.” Eddie says back, and Wayne’s heart stops in his chest. “Probably couldn’t have stayed sober enough to make the drive to a place like this.”

Wayne waits for Steve to say something, anything. He waits for so long, he’s tempted to look out the window and see if he can see them under the light of the moon.

“Your dad didn’t deserve you,” Steve finally says, quieter than they’d been before, like he didn’t want to disrupt the quiet night with his words. “And you deserved better than him.”

“I had Wayne eventually. I have Wayne now.” Eddie replies just as quietly. “And you do too, ya know.”

Wayne isn’t much of a crier. He’s only done it a handful of times. But Eddie’s words make his eyes well up and his throat burn.

“He barely knows me,” Steve tries to argue.

“He knows enough. You were there for the worst of my shit. You still stick around. You’re here right now even though you could’ve turned down his invitation.” Eddie sounds like he’s holding back tears now. “If you mean a lot to me, you mean a lot to Wayne. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

Wayne wishes he could be a part of this conversation, or at least be able to see them both. He’s respecting their space as much as he can, though. He’s laying in his bed and biting back tears the way any respectful uncle would.

“I’m not used to meaning so much to someone.”

Wayne isn’t sure he hears him right, his voice breaking halfway through, but Steve couldn’t have said anything else.

He should stop listening. This is turning into something else entirely, he thinks. He shouldn’t hear whatever Eddie says next.

“You mean everything to me.”

Wayne closes his eyes, holds his breath, hopes that if Steve takes it the way he knows Eddie means it, that this doesn’t turn into a real fight. He hopes that Steve’s reaction is kind, even if it’s not what Eddie wants.

Wayne’s almost grateful that he can’t hear what Steve says next. Whether it’s rude or loving, he doesn’t want to be a part of this moment like this. He can’t close his window, they’d hear it. He can’t leave his room, he’ll just be in view when they come back inside.

He waits one minute, two, three. He hears a twig snap and then quiet giggling.

He smiles to himself as he hears footsteps heading back towards the cabin.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Eddie wakes up with Steve’s arms around him and something bubbling in his chest.

Could be heartburn, or it could be the love that’s been growing inside him for months.

He remembers their conversation last night, looking up at the stars and listening to the leaves gently brushing against each other in the breeze, and he can’t help the blush on his cheeks. When Steve kissed him last night, he was pretty sure he was dreaming.

This wasn’t a dream, though.

They stayed up way too late. Eddie knew the moment he looked at the clock as they got into bed and saw 1:48 in bright red that he’d struggle today.

He could hear Wayne moving around the cabin, probably making coffee and breakfast for them since they’d need an early start for fishing. It wasn’t Eddie’s favorite thing to do, but Wayne loved it, and Eddie loved Wayne.

Steve groaned as he moved one arm above his head.

Eddie looks up at him, blushing harder when Steve’s half-lidded eyes are already looking down at him. He’s smiling, cocky if Eddie’s reading him right.

“Sleep okay?” Steve’s sleep-raspy voice asks, fingers gliding across Eddie’s upper arm in unknown patterns.

“Mhm. Not long enough,” Eddie admits. “Could stay in bed.”

Steve hums in agreement before seemingly realizing that Wayne’s already up. “Don’t think we can skip out on Wayne, though.”

This is why Eddie has a hard time pushing his feelings down for Steve. He’s done this before, whether he realizes he did or not.

In the hospital, the day after he’d woken up, Steve had stopped by to bring some clothes for Wayne since he refused to leave Eddie’s side. The kids had apparently been hounding him to take them with him, but he stood his ground and told them that Eddie needed time with just Wayne right now and that he needed rest.

A few weeks later, Steve could’ve easily taken Eddie home by himself, but insisted on waiting for Wayne to get off of work to do it.

Just a week ago, Wayne had forgotten a few things at the store, and when Steve overheard him grumbling about having to make another trip, he offered to go.

That’s just who Steve is.

Eddie loves him for it.

“Yeah. He’d be so bored without me scaring the fish away with my constant humming and leg jiggling,” Eddie agrees seriously. “Wouldn’t want him to miss me.”

Steve lets out a loud laugh, and Eddie hides his pleased smile in Steve’s chest.

He can’t believe he’s doing this right now, can’t believe Steve’s arm tightens around him, pulls him closer so all he can feel and smell is Steve.

“You could just stay quiet while we fish,” Steve suggests, as if Eddie hasn’t thought of that already. “Just for a little bit.”

“That sounds boring.”

Steve pokes Eddie’s cheek with his other hand. Eddie nips at his fingertip before Steve can pull away. They both laugh.

It’s easy.

A knock on the door interrupts the casual cuddling, but Eddie knows it’s not because Steve’s ashamed to be caught with him like that. Steve isn’t used to this being okay.

“You boys up?” Wayne’s voice is barely muffled through the door, something Eddie notes for later.

“Yeah!” Eddie calls back, though he probably didn’t need to speak more than normal volume.

Steve is tense below him. Eddie hates that.

He tries to soothe him by running his hand along his side, memorizing the bumps of his scars, keeping his breathing even so Steve would calm down. Wayne wouldn’t walk in without Eddie telling him he could, but Steve must’ve assumed he didn’t respect his space that much.

“Breakfast is done. Just made eggs and toast.” Wayne knocks once more on the door before they can hear his footsteps walking back to the kitchen.

Steve relaxes and sighs.

“You don’t have to do that.” Eddie still traces along the scar on his hip. “Wayne’s cool.”

“I know.” Steve goes to sit up, but Eddie holds him down. “Eddie, I know. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“There’s a price to pay before you get up.”

Steve snorts. “And what’s that?”

“A kiss.”

Steve kisses the top of Eddie’s head.

“Unfortunately, I won’t be accepting that form of payment.”

Steve’s hand cups Eddie’s cheek, thumb rubbing slowly as he guides his face up to look at him. Eddie hopes he can’t feel the heat on his skin, but the odds aren’t great.

“One kiss.”

“Only one?” Eddie pouts.

“Don’t wanna get carried away when we’re supposed to be getting up.” Steve leans in until his breath is hot against Eddie’s lips. “So one kiss and then you let me leave so we can go fishing with your uncle.”

“Fine.” Eddie can’t help smiling into the kiss. It’s quicker than he wants, but it’s perfect. When Steve pulls away, Eddie groans and falls flat on his back. “What if we fake sick?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve laughs as he gets out of bed and tries to get changed into regular clothes.

Eddie watches him, can’t wipe the smile off his face as Steve nearly trips over his own pant leg. He doesn’t even care if Steve catches him looking, not anymore.

He gets to look now.

After Eddie’s confession last night, after their first kiss, and the second and third, and talking for two hours by the water, it was pretty obvious that they were skipping over that new relationship awkwardness. Eddie hadn’t quite said he loved Steve, and Steve hadn’t said it either, but actions spoke louder than words. The way they couldn’t stop touching, the way Steve looked at Eddie while he talked about his most recent adventure with Dustin, the way Eddie watched Steve throw rocks as far as he could into the depths of the lake, it was all love.

“If you keep looking at me like that, I’m never leaving this room.” Steve is looking at him as he buttons his jeans and Eddie is considering sending Wayne on his own.

He waited months for this, but now it felt like waiting another hour was too much.

“Looking at you like what?” Eddie asks innocently.

“Like you wanna eat me.”

“Well…” Eddie wiggles his eyebrows and taps the bed. “I could eat breakfast in bed if you get back in it.”

Steve walks over to the bed, leans over Eddie, gets close enough to nip at his top lip.

“Get out of bed.” He presses a quick kiss to Eddie’s lips before walking to the door. He leaves it open as he leaves the room without looking back.

Eddie curses Steve’s ability to get him to do anything, and reluctantly gets out of bed. He throws on his shorts, a tank top, and ties his bandana in his hair so he doesn’t have to worry about it sticking to his forehead.

When he gets to the kitchen, Wayne and Steve are staring out the window and whispering.

“I didn’t think we’d see a marsh hawk. Population’s been down for the last decade,” Wayne’s saying as Eddie walks up on his other side. “I’ve only seen one before and that was during a trip to Lake Michigan when I was 14 or 15.”

Eddie looks out the window, trying to see what they see. He’s not sure what a marsh hawk looks like, but he’s assuming it’s one of the birds in the nearby trees.

Steve wordlessly points it out to him.

“That’s a cool bird.” Eddie says at a normal volume. The bird spreads its wings out, acting as if it might take off. It’s beautiful, the white along its beak and chest a stunning contrast to its dark brown wings.

“It’s good luck to see one in some cases,” Wayne whispers as he turns away from the window. “Seeing one on your wedding day is supposed to lead to a long and happy marriage.”

“Too bad no one’s getting married here today,” Eddie remarks as he grabs a plate and starts to scoop eggs onto it.

“Not married. But still good luck,” Steve mutters as he follows Eddie. “So we just have to grab the cooler on our way out?”

Wayne nods. “And the bait.”

“I thought we used plastic stuff.”

“We use lures, but we put worms on there to get the fish to actually bite,” Wayne explains. “I’ve got plenty of stuff for bass, but I dunno how lucky we’ll be.”

Eddie nods along as he takes a huge bite of toast. “One time we forgot worms and had to use hot dogs.”

“Fish eat hot dogs?” Steve asks in surprise.

“Some fish settle for hot dogs. They don’t quite realize ‘til it’s too late that it ain’t their food,” Wayne shrugs. “But we got plenty of worms for this trip. Should be perfect fishing conditions.”

They all ate in silence after that, but Eddie could feel Steve’s nerves building the closer they all got to clean plates.

Steve didn’t have to say it for Eddie to know he desperately wanted to impress Wayne, especially now that they were…something. They probably needed to clarify exactly what they were at some point soon. They would. Eventually. Tonight maybe.

Or tomorrow.

“I’ll clean up if you boys wanna finish getting ready.” Wayne offered as he scraped the last of his eggs onto his fork.

Eddie took him up on his offer, jumping up to go brush his teeth and get his sneakers on.

“You comin’?” He asks Steve, who’s still slowly eating the eggs he drenched in ketchup.

“Just a second,” Steve replies with his mouth full. “You can use the bathroom first.”

Eddie nods and leaves the room.

He hears the sink in the kitchen running a few seconds later, and the hushed voices of Wayne and Steve having a whispered conversation. He could sneak back, try to listen in, but he thinks that maybe Steve needs this minute alone with him.

He finishes what he needs to do quickly, though, and admittedly sneaks back towards the kitchen quieter than he normally would, hoping to overhear something interesting.

But all he walks into is Steve laughing as Wayne smiles back.

Eddie doesn’t find that he minds much, as long as they’re both happy.

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Being on the boat is different as an adult.

The last time Eddie fished with Wayne on a boat, he was barely shoulder height on him and 100 pounds soaking wet. It was a much smaller boat, though, barely fit two grown adults comfortably.

This boat, however, was built for a family of at least four adults. The awning covered half of the boat, so Eddie didn’t have to sit in direct sunlight when the sun finally rose.

Steve stood to the side, watching Wayne prep the lures and bait, casting his own line out and reeling it in until it was taut. Eddie went next, making a show of it just like he always did. Wayne doesn’t comment, just shakes his head and smiles fondly as he watches the water.

“Um,” Steve starts. “I guess it’s my turn.”

Eddie’s pretty sure Wayne knows Steve’s nervous. It’s hard not to tell with how quiet he’s been the entire ride to the middle of the lake.

Wayne sets his pole in the stand at the stern, and turns to Steve with his hands on his hips. “You saw how I cast mine?”

Steve nods, but doesn’t look sure. Eddie’s not really used to seeing Steve anything less than confident, even in the face of monsters.

It hits him the moment he thinks about monsters.

They’re on a lake. A lake very similar, though much larger, to the same lake that almost dragged Steve to his death. A lake he’d previously trusted, and no longer could.

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just subtly places his hand against Steve’s hip, offering whatever comfort he can. Steve won’t admit he’s scared, but Eddie doesn’t need him to.

Wayne sees it, Eddie knows he does. But because he’s the best uncle, he doesn’t say anything.

He raises a brow and then schools his features back to a comforting smile before showing Steve how to hold the pole so he can cast it comfortably and far enough out that movements from the boat don’t scare the fish from the hook.

Eddie watches, and he sees the nerves slowly easing from Steve’s shoulders, his forehead, and his arms. He relaxes inch by inch, and Eddie couldn’t be more in love.

Wayne steps back so Steve can cast his line.

When the bobber hits the water, Wayne smiles and pats his shoulder. “Good job, son. Now reel it in a bit so you can feel if something bites. Good. Now we just wait.”

Steve turns red at the praise and Eddie realizes that Steve probably hasn’t heard a “good job” from an adult in a very, very long time.

Eddie’s childhood was fucked, but at least Wayne was there cheering him on, showing him what it meant to be proud of your kid eventually. He’s pretty sure Steve hasn’t had that for most of his life.

“How long do we wait?” Steve asks after a few minutes.

The lake is near silent, and the water is so smooth it looks like glass. If Eddie leaned over, he’d probably be able to see his reflection. The gentle lapping of water on the side of the boat and the distant sound of birds in the trees lining the water’s edge fills the air.

“I usually give it 10 or 15 minutes before reeling it in. Check my bait, maybe change the lure if there’s no bites.” Wayne’s watching the end of Steve’s line as he speaks. “I used bass lures on all of ours, but we might change them up in a minute. See what else is out there.”

Steve nods and turns back.

Wayne doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve’s bobber.

Eddie watches Wayne curiously.

Anytime he’s fished with Wayne, he’s left Eddie to his own devices after showing him what to do. He watches his own line, and only steps in to help if Eddie catches something and doesn’t wanna touch the fish.

Wayne’s eyes widen just as Steve exclaims, “Hey! Look!”

“Reel it in!” Wayne shouts, setting his pole down again and rushing to stand next to Steve.

Eddie turns and watches as Steve reels in whatever he’s caught. Judging by the bend in the pole, it’s a decent sized fish.

“Shit, what if it breaks?” Steve asks, voice shaking with the effort of trying to reel in the fish before it escapes.

“It won’t. Keep going.”

When they manage to get the fish out of the water and into the boat, Steve is breathless.

“Look at that!” Wayne holds up the line, right above where the hook is caught in the fish’s mouth, beaming at Steve. “Our boy got himself a king salmon!”

Ignoring his mention of “our” boy, Eddie steps closer and grips Steve’s shoulder, shaking him just enough to make the boat rock.

“How can you tell?” Steve asks Wayne, reaching out to hold the fish up himself.

“You see all these black spots on his back and fins?” Wayne points at a few of the spots. “Other salmon don’t have this many spots or any at all. You keepin’ him or throwin’ him back?”

Steve looks at Eddie, smile falling as he suddenly looks unsure about what the right thing to do is. Before Eddie can say anything, Wayne wraps his arm around Steve’s shoulders.

“Either is fine with me. Could cook him up for supper if you wanna keep him or send him back to his friends with a new piercing.” Wayne looks over at Eddie. “Eddie ain’t much for seafood, but I make a mean baked salmon.”

Steve nods. “Yeah, think I’ll keep this one.”

Wayne pats his shoulder again before showing him how to unhook the fish safely. He opens up the empty cooler he brought and places the fish inside.

Wayne moves to grab the bait so Steve can set up again, and while his back is turned, Eddie takes a chance.

He leans over and kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth.

“You’re a natural,” Eddie whispers as he leans away again.

“Shut up.” Steve is blushing that same pretty pink that he was last night and earlier this morning. Eddie can’t look away. “Just lucky.”

Wayne catches two rainbow trout and Eddie manages to catch a small northern pike, which quickly gets thrown back when Eddie starts to make up a story about how it’s a teenager who got separated from its parents. Wayne shakes his head as Eddie carries on, but he’s used to it. Eddie never keeps his catch if he’s lucky enough to have one.

They relax as the day warms up, popping open cans of soda as the sun gets closer to the middle of the sky. It’s not about fishing anymore; It’s about soaking up the tranquility of their surroundings.

Eddie isn’t known for being still or quiet, but even he can let himself enjoy this. Every day since March has been about survival, and appointments, and witness statements, and lawyers, and moving, and the kids. He feels like he’s barely even had time to think.

So while he sits on this boat with two of his favorite people, he thinks.

He thinks about how different his life is now, and how different it could still be.

He thinks about how much Wayne has sacrificed for him for most of his life, but especially the last five months.

He thinks about how much he wants to tell Steve he loves him.

He thinks he’ll tell him tonight.

📼📼📼📼📼

Steve sits on the porch while Wayne cleans the fish, staying a good distance away so he doesn’t end up seeing things that’ll make him wish he left the poor salmon in the lake. Eddie’s inside doing god knows what.

He’s never been happier.

He does wish Robin could be here, but she hates the outdoors. She didn’t even like going on her family’s beach trip last month.

Plus, he’s pretty sure he wouldn’t have been able to have the alone time he needed with Eddie last night if she were here. Even though she’s been telling him to just talk to him for the last three months, she wouldn’t have caught on to his plan.

Feeling this much for Eddie isn’t new.

After the events of spring break, Steve took a long, hard look at high school and realized that at least part of the reason he was always staring at Eddie was because he was very interested. He started looking for any excuse to stick around in Eddie’s hospital room, and then offered to take him to appointments, and it continued from there.

Now, they hang out almost every day. Sometimes it’s with the kids, sometimes with Robin, sometimes alone.

Steve realizes that even before they kissed and fell asleep holding each other and flirted as much as possible all day, this was the best relationship he’s ever had. He needs to tell Eddie as soon as they’re alone.

“All done,” Wayne says as he steps onto the porch, the container of cleaned fish in his hand. “You ready to learn the secret to makin’ the best fish?”

Steve is quick to nod, excited that Wayne thinks he’s even worth the time it’ll take to show him. Wayne’s been so kind this entire trip, making sure Steve is involved and welcomed, makes him feel like he belongs in their little family.

As Wayne grabs everything they’ll need, Steve sees Eddie through their bedroom door, writing in a journal, tongue poking between his lips as he concentrates. Steve’s never seen this journal, but he can assume it’s another one of his many already filled with songs and campaign ideas.

“You done starin’ at Ed?” Wayne’s voice is quiet behind him, but still makes him jump with surprise.

“Wasn’t staring at him. Thought I saw a…um…bug?” Steve knows he’s been caught halfway through trying to lie, so he moves on. “Ready?”

“Are you?” Wayne raises a brow and smirks.

“Yes!” Steve puts his hands on his hips. “What are you implying?”

“Mostly that you’re too in love with my nephew to focus on what I’m sayin’.”

Steve feels heat in his cheeks, but he chooses to ignore it and pretend that he can distract Wayne from what he’s saying.

“So we’re frying your fish and baking my salmon?” Steve starts holding up some of the spices Wayne’s set out on the counter. He can feel Wayne’s eyes on him. “Looks like you like spice.”

“Steve.” Wayne sighs. “It’s okay to feel however you feel. I ain’t gonna judge.”

“Right. Yeah.” Steve turns to finally look at Wayne, who looks sad. He shouldn’t look sad right now.

“Eddie ever tell ya about Paul?” Wayne starts filling one pan with oil and the other with a few small pads of butter.

Steve shakes his head, watching closely.

“Paul was my boyfriend when Ed first came to live with me.”

Steve’s eyes widen as that hits him.

“Woulda been my husband had we been able to be married.” Wayne starts mixing flour, salt, and pepper in a bowl while he talks. “He was a long haul truck driver. Gone for weeks at a time. Stayed with me when he passed through. Came home one day to Eddie asleep in the bed we usually shared and asked if I’d been up to something.”

Wayne smiles fondly down at the bowl of eggs, buttermilk, lemon juice, and garlic he’d started mixing together as he spoke.

“Told him everything. Expected him to call it quits. He didn’t sign up for raising a troubled kid, especially not one who may not be okay with what we had.” Wayne stops and looks up at Steve. “But he just hugged me and said he’d follow my lead. Whatever was best for Ed was what was best for us. Ain’t sure I could ever find a love like that again.”

Steve can feel tears trying to form in his eyes, but he manages to bite them back. He’s pretty sure he knows where this is going, but he listens without interrupting.

“Ed didn’t take too well to him at first. Probably ‘cause he was in and out so much, didn’t get time to bond with him like I did. Paul was patient. Always so patient with both of us.” Wayne shakes his head and looks down at the counter before he looks up smiling again. “Ed came out to Paul first, ya know? When he was 13. He’d gone on a short haul with him over the summer and when they came back, they were thick as thieves. Paul told me that night that Ed had told him he liked boys and it changed their entire relationship. I was Uncle Wayne, but Paul was like a dad to him. Definitely more than his own dad ever was.”

Wayne looked over to check that Eddie was still in the bedroom, distracted by his writing.

“Paul started taking short hauls instead of long ones. Only gone three or four days at a time instead of 14-20. Thought it was so he could be close to Ed, since we’d kinda become our own little family.”

Steve realizes he’s holding his breath when Wayne sniffs.

“He’d gotten sick and didn’t tell us. Started out thinkin’ it was pneumonia, but it got worse. Doctor thought it was heart problems, but it was everywhere. Leukemia. Untreatable by the time they figured it out.”

Steve’s wrapping his arms around Wayne before he even realizes he’s doing it, letting the tears fall as he thinks about how much pain Wayne and Eddie must’ve gone through to lose someone so important to them.

“Ed was barely 14 when he passed. I think he took it harder than me.”

Steve can’t even imagine. Wayne lost someone he loved, but Eddie lost a father figure after losing his real father to things he should never have had to compete with. And now Eddie’s father was really dead.

All he really has is Wayne.

“Kid shaved his head in solidarity when Paul lost what little hair he had left,” Wayne huffs a wet laugh as they pull away from each other. “Couldn’t believe it when I got home from work and they were both bald as cue balls. Thought they’d lost it.”

Steve and Wayne are both laughing, and it’s probably going to draw Eddie’s attention, but he kinda hopes it does. He could use Eddie’s closeness right now. He needs to see that he’s okay, that this didn’t completely destroy him, that he went on anyway.

But all Eddie does is yell at them to keep it down, which just makes them laugh harder.

“And you never dated anyone else?” Steve asks as Wayne starts putting his fishin the egg mixture. “Not even for fun?”

“Nah. Once Paul was gone, I had to work more to pay the bills. What little time I had was spent with Ed. He was my priority, always.”

Steve wipes the tears from his cheeks as he watches Wayne drop the fish into the hot oil.

“What about now?” Eddie was busy with his own life now, and they’d received enough money from the government to cover their new trailer and have plenty leftover to cover bills. Wayne was retired and had plenty of time to start dating again.

“I got lucky with Paul. It ain’t fair to compare any future relationship to what we had and I think that’s all I’d do. I’m happy the way things are for now.”

Steve drops it for now, but he makes a note to ask Eddie about it soon. He’s surprised Eddie never mentioned Paul, or even the fact that Wayne was gay, especially when he came out to Steve and Robin while he was still in the hospital.

Wayne goes on to explain how long he keeps the fish in the oil before flipping them to make sure the cooking is even, and how putting them onto paper towels to cool drains too much of the grease.

As Steve watches him prep the salmon with a glaze he made from garlic, honey, and lemon juice, Eddie finally comes out of the bedroom.

“Smells like fish,” he says with a grin.

“That’d be the fish.” Wayne doesn’t even bother looking over at him as he leans against the counter. “Salmon is already a tender fish, so you can bake it to whatever you prefer. It should only take about 10 minutes on 400 unless you like it extra crispy, then you may wanna do it for 13 minutes.”

“Chef Wayne teaching you everything you need to know?” Eddie asks Steve, stepping close enough for Steve to feel the heat coming from his body.

“He’s pretty talented. Might need to consider opening a restaurant,” Steve teases.

“Wait ‘til you have his steak. So tender you could cut it with a spoon.”

“Don’t know what you’re after with your compliments, but I’d rather ya just ask for it.” Wayne checked the clock as he closed the oven door.

“I was just bein’ nice!” Eddie exclaims, throwing his arms up in frustration. Steve never noticed how Eddie’s accent changes the more time he spends around Wayne, but he smiles to himself when it slips now. “See if I give ya a compliment again, old man.”

Steve watches as they banter back and forth some more, both of them smiling and laughing the entire time.

It’s nothing like what Steve was used to. His parents never bantered, only fought. Anything that was big enough for discussion, was big enough to yell about. As Steve got older, he learned that staying quiet and letting them get it out would usually turn out better for him. Luckily, once he reached middle school, they didn’t bother coming home enough for him to worry about what to do when they were arguing.

He doesn’t remember a time when there was fun and laughter between them, not even when he was a young child. He can remember his mom dancing with him while his dad was gone on business trips, but the moment he arrived home, the air became thick with tension and her attitude became somber. He remembers one time when his dad let him sit on his desk while he worked, making paper airplanes and having a competition to see how far they could fly, but the moment the phone rang, he was hissing a ‘get out’ with no explanation for the abrupt stop to the fun.

Steve couldn’t imagine talking to either of his parents the way Eddie talks to Wayne, but he also couldn’t imagine receiving the love from them that Wayne so easily gives to Eddie.

And now that he knows another piece of their story, he can see how they’ve come to be like this, comfortable with each other in ways many kids never are with their parents.

Steve’s mind continues to wander throughout dinner, but no one calls him out on it. Maybe Wayne somehow communicated with Eddie that they’d had a serious conversation. Maybe it was just obvious that Steve was far away from the table. Eddie and Wayne chattered as they ate, and Steve let the constant echoes of their voices be the background noise to his thoughts.

“Stevie?” Eddie’s hand touched his cheek, shaking him out of the path he was lost on. “Wayne’s gonna take a walk. You wanna go?”

Steve smiles up at Eddie before looking down at his plate. He barely remembers eating, but he only has a few small pieces of salmon left.

“Sounds good.”

Eddie looks concerned, but Steve brushes him off. He looks around, and when he doesn’t see Wayne in the room with them, turns his face so he can kiss Eddie’s palm.

“Should we grab the bug spray?” Steve asks as he stands, pushing in his chair and grabbing his plate off the table to wash it.

“Wayne’s got it outside. Think he put enough on for all of us,” Eddie follows close behind Steve. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just thinking.”

“About?”

“A lot.” Steve brushes it off so they can join Wayne. “Ready?”

Eddie nods and leads the way out of the cabin.

They ate an early dinner, so the sun is still high in the sky as they make their way down a trail that follows the lake’s edge. Eddie occasionally gets distracted by colorful rocks, holding them up excitedly for Steve and Wayne to acknowledge.

Steve knows the love he has for Eddie is written all over his face.

He doesn’t care to hide it.

Wayne’s quiet as they walk, occasionally pointing out a fish splashing in the distance or a heron standing in the water. He swats a mosquito away from Steve’s face, only for the mosquito to turn around and bite his hand. Eddie’s far too busy climbing over fallen limbs and branches of trees to notice what they’re doing.

“You boys should go for a swim when we get back. Water’s cool.” Wayne makes the suggestion without looking at Steve, who suddenly feels like he’s being studied under a microscope.

“Not sure if Eddie even brought a swimsuit.” Steve laughs it off, hopes they can go back to silence or change the subject.

“I’m sure you boys could figure something out.”

Thankfully, the topic gets dropped and Steve is left wondering if Wayne knows.

Sure, he joked about Steve being in love with Eddie earlier, but that wasn’t a confirmation that he knew they were together. He thought they’d been careful today, but maybe Wayne caught them when they kissed by the truck when Eddie was grabbing his wallet from the glovebox.

He doesn’t have time to think about it more because Eddie lets out a yelp and they can only watch as he falls on his ass into a muddy spot between two large rocks.

“I hate the outdoors,” he grumbles as he stands.

Wayne is laughing, but Steve is rushing over to make sure he’s okay.

“Are you hurt?” Steve’s hands are hovering over him, trying to figure out if he sees any blood. “Did you hit your head?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” Eddie replies quietly, holding his arms out as if trying to show proof. “My dignity may be a bit bruised.”

They’re interrupted by the hooting of an owl. It’s loud enough that Wayne shushes them and starts looking around at the trees surrounding them, trying to locate the creature.

It hoots again before Wayne locates it, pointing to a tree only ten feet away and to their right.

“Wow.” Steve says as he gets a close look at it, the white and tan feathers blending into beautiful patterns. “It’s so small. I thought owls were bigger.”

Eddie’s looking up at it, smiling.

To Steve’s shock, he’s the one who responds, not Wayne.

“It’s a northern saw-whet owl. They’re closer to the size of a robin than an owl you may be thinking of.” Eddie reaches for Steve’s hand and squeezes it once before letting it drop. “Paul taught me about all kinds of owls.”

Steve’s head snaps towards him. “You heard us this morning, didn’t you?”

“You weren’t quiet,” Eddie shrugged. “I used to be obsessed with nocturnal animals. He bought me a book about bats and owls for Christmas and went through it page by page with me.”

“I remember that book,” Wayne looks at the owl while he talks. “Paul said it made him nervous to go out at night.”

Eddie laughs. “He was convinced we’d get attacked.”

Steve can’t blame him. The longer he looks at the owl’s impossibly large eyes and spread wings, the more he believes he’s being hunted.

“Ready to head back?” Wayne asks after another minute, drawing his attention away.

“Wish I had a camera like Byers. Probably could get a good picture.” Eddie says as he starts to walk back the way they came.

Steve takes note to ask Jonathan about his so he can get him one for Christmas.

When they make it back to the cabin, Wayne excuses himself to take a shower and do a crossword before bed, which leaves Steve and Eddie to fill their time however they want. Steve thinks back to Wayne’s suggestion about going for a swim, but he’s not sure Eddie would want to now that the sun’s almost set.

He’s not even sure he wants to get into the lake after dark.

But it does sound appealing, especially with the layer of damp sweat coating his skin from their walk. And there is a light on the dock that would make it easier to at least see each other.

“Wanna go for a swim?” Steve asks Eddie as he sips on a soda.

“Now?” Eddie looks out the window in the kitchen, frowning at the darkness looming.

“Now.”

“It’s dark.”

“We can turn on the light at the dock. C’mon. Just a quick dip,” Steve nudges his shoulder as he starts walking to the back door, fully dressed.

“You’re not gonna change?” Eddie asks in disbelief.

“Don’t plan on wearing my clothes in.” Steve winks as he leaves, knowing Eddie will follow him even if he’s hesitant to do so.

Within seconds, the back door is closing and Eddie is on his heels.

“Are we seriously skinny dipping in the lake while my uncle is here?” Eddie hisses out, hand covering Steve’s forearm.

“I’m skinny dipping. You can do whatever you want,” Steve responds. “But I wouldn’t complain if you joined me.”

Eddie huffs beside him, but still follows him the rest of the way to the water’s edge. The light has a covered power switch to their right, but now that they’re in an open area by the water, they realize the moon is pretty bright.

Steve starts stripping off his shirt, then his shoes and socks. Eddie watches, probably trying to decide if he’s gonna join him or go back inside and pretend Steve isn’t naked in the water. When Steve pulls his pants off, Eddie sighs and starts untying his boots.

“Can’t believe you have me getting into another lake. Wasn’t the first time enough?” Eddie’s grumbling loud enough for Steve to hear, but quiet enough that Steve only catches every couple of words and has to use context clues for the rest. He can’t hold back a smile when he shoves his underwear down and leaves them on top of his pile of clothes.

Eddie is still grumbling as he removes his own clothes, enough that he’s distracting himself from realizing Steve’s already naked and waiting for him.

When he looks up, his eyes widen and his jaw drops open.

“You’re gonna catch flies like that,” Steve steps closer as he speaks, feeling more nervous than he expected to. “Probably should get in so the mosquitos don’t get us.”

“Right.” Eddie shakes his head, closing his eyes so he can focus. “Yes. Let’s get in.”

Steve grabs his hand and walks them both to the water. The water is chilly, but not uncomfortably cold. He knows in the next few weeks, the temperature will drop enough at night to cause the lake to be freezing cold. But right now, it’s perfect.

Being here with Eddie is perfect.

Eddie breathes out slowly as they keep walking further in, squeezing Steve’s hand.

“All good?” Steve asks when they’re waist deep.

“Yep. All good. How uh…how far do you wanna go?” Eddie’s looking out at what little they can see of the lake, even with the moonlight glistening off the tiny waves of the lake.

“Just a little more.”

Steve doesn’t take Eddie’s trust for granted here, knows that he’s asking a lot of him.

When the water is just below his collarbone, he stops.

Eddie is tense next to him, but doesn’t seem to be panicking.

“Okay?” Steve asks.

Eddie looks around and then settles back on Steve. “I’m okay.”

Something about the way he says it makes Steve pause, though.

“You can let it out if you need to, baby,” he offers. He’s not sure what it is specifically that makes him think Eddie’s on the edge of tears, but he wants to give him the chance to cry. “I’m right here.”

Eddie doesn’t sob, or cry, or do anything for a minute. They’re both looking out at the dark lake and the moon above, listening to crickets and a gentle breeze in the leaves of the trees nearby. Eddie’s breathing just stops for a few seconds and that’s all the warning Steve gets before he’s sniffling and talking.

“My dad was a piece of shit,” he starts. Steve is gonna follow his lead, and listen, and let Eddie tell him whatever he wants to. Even if that’s all he says. “He hated me. Pretty sure he hated my mom towards the end of her life, too. Anything that put attention on someone other than him was no good. That’s why he got involved with the closest thing Hawkins had to a mafia.”

Steve rubs his thumb against the side of Eddie’s hand under the water, prompting him to continue.

“He ranked pretty high with them so he got plenty of attention. Forgot that he had a wife and a kid. When my mom died, he temporarily got more attention from everyone. Made sure he looked like the mourning husband trying to be strong for the son he barely knew. Even at four and five years old I knew he was full of shit. But at least he was taking me with him sometimes, showing me cool shit. He got arrested when I was seven for petty theft and possession of drugs. Got lucky that the judge believed his sob story of being the only one who could take care of me.” Eddie scoffed. “Paid a fine with money he stole and had to do 80 hours of community service that his boss signed off on after a few weeks. Didn’t care that the only meals I ate were at school and the neighbor’s house when she saw me alone for dinner. Didn’t care that I never had school supplies or clothes that fit. Didn’t care that I missed school anytime I missed the bus, which was often because he never gave me an alarm clock to set to get up in time.”

Steve wants to cry, hearing how shitty Eddie’s childhood was, but he refuses to right now. He doesn’t want Eddie to stop talking.

“When I was nine, he taught me how to steal a car. I could barely see over the steering wheel, but it was the first time I made him proud.” Eddie clears his throat. “He got sent to prison when I was 11. I got put in the system because everything is a mess and Wayne wasn’t even listed as my uncle anywhere. Wayne heard about it all a few weeks later and didn’t stop pushing to have me in his care until they gave in. I’m surprised they put up so much of a fight considering they don’t usually care that much about poor kids with shit parents. Wayne fought for me and I didn’t even know how much he did until I was older.”

Steve glances over to see tears falling down Eddie’s face. He let go of Eddie’s hand to wrap his arm around his waist instead, pulling him against his side.

“He didn’t have to do that. He just knew what a piece of shit my dad was and apparently checked on me a few times a year without me or him knowing. And he told you about Paul.” Steve nods. “Paul was in and out a lot at first, made me suspicious. Thought he was up to no good and just using Wayne as a place to sleep when he wasn’t in the truck. But then he took me with him a few times over the summer and we got closer. I don’t think Wayne even knows how much that man loved him. He was gonna start working more local jobs sooner until I came into the picture and Wayne was struggling to keep up with bills. Long haul makes more money, so he stayed out. Made sure I had clothes and school supplies, made sure I ate three meals a day and had whatever snacks I wanted. Sent payments to the electric company before Wayne even got the bill so I never had to worry about sleeping through alarms or not being able to take a hot shower.”

Steve didn’t realize he was crying until Eddie reached his thumb up to wipe away a tear.

“He was my father in the ways that mattered to me, just like Wayne has been. Losing him was more painful than anything I feel about my dad dying now. All I feel now is guilt that I feel anything at all.”

Steve uses the arm wrapped around Eddie’s waist and the weightlessness the water allows to lift him up and guide his legs around his waist. He’s looking up at the man he loves, holding the back of his thighs, and wishing he could take every shitty feeling away with his words of comfort.

“You can feel however you feel. I’ll love you through it all,” Steve reassures him. Eddie’s breath catches at his words, and Steve knows he chose the right thing to say at the right time. “No one who cares about you is gonna judge you for having any emotion about your dad dying. If you wanted to stand in the middle of a table in the cafeteria at the school and cheer, I’d sit at the table and cheer you on. If you want to show up at his grave and scream and cry, I’ll hold your hand the whole time. So will Wayne. And so would Paul.”

Eddie sobs as he wraps his arms around Steve’s neck and hides his face against Steve’s neck. Steve can feel the wetness of his tears, can feel his own still falling into the water below. He doesn’t care how long they stay like that, doesn’t even care if this is all they do all night.

But only a few minutes later, Eddie is pulling back and looking down at Steve, hands playing with the wet ends of his hair.

“I didn’t expect any of this this weekend,” he admits. “I should learn to stop having expectations.”

Steve’s lips turn up in a half-smile as Eddie rests his forehead against his. “Better or worse than what you expected?”

Eddie snorts. “Better. Always better with you.”

Steve’s glad it’s dark enough to hide his blush, but he’s sure Eddie knows what he does to him by now. If he doesn’t, he will soon enough.

Eddie traces a line along Steve’s neck, gently poking at his moles as he watches his own movements. Steve holds him, lets him do what he wants, feels every touch like lightning.

“I love you,” he finally says, barely more than a whisper, like he’s unsure it’s okay, even after Steve’s confession. “I think I have for a while.”

Steve wants to kiss him, but this moment still feels like a part of Eddie’s monologue. He wants Eddie to lead now, to show him how to love him. Whatever he needs, Steve will give it willingly and gladly.

“How long until Wayne comes to make sure we didn’t drown?” Eddie asks.

“Probably not unless we’re still gone by morning.”

“As lovely as being in your arms all night sounds, I don’t know if I’d wanna stay in the water that long,” Eddie laughs as his legs tighten around Steve’s waist. Their mostly soft cocks brush against each other, making them both inhale loudly. “A little longer might not be so bad, though.”

Steve’s finding it harder not to kiss him, not to let his hands wander from Eddie’s thighs, up to his waist, back to his ass. He resists, but Eddie shifts his weight again and everything gets harder.

“You’re killing me.” Steve groans, letting his head fall back so he can look up at the stars in the sky instead of the ones in Eddie’s eyes.

“Look at me.” Eddie’s tone’s shifted to something serious, still adorned with an affection Steve can’t believe he gets to hear. Steve looks at him with his lips parted and unblinking eyes. “I wanna be yours. Will you let me?”

Steve nods. That’s all he can do.

Eddie’s lips are against his, gently coaxing them apart further so he can slip his tongue inside. Steve’s not even thinking about how he hasn’t brushed his teeth or eaten a mint since supper, the warmth of Eddie’s hands circling behind his back and rubbing his shoulders enough of a distraction even without his tongue gliding against the roof of his mouth.

Eddie’s hands are slow, but on a very clear path downwards as his tongue traces Steve’s bottom lip. Steve lets his own hands slip to Eddie’s lower back, lets a finger trace up and back down his spine.

Eddie shivers in his arms.

“Cold?” Steve whispers.

Eddie shakes his head. “Feels good.”

So Steve does it again, with more pressure, hoping Eddie gets the hint.

When Eddie’s hips grind forward, he knows he did.

They’re both nearly fully hard now, lips meeting again, hungrier and biting. Their moans vibrate between their chests, every movement rippling the water around them.

Eddie’s rocking his hips back and forth, friction against their cocks not quite enough to do more than get them more worked up.

The water doesn’t feel cool anymore, Steve’s body already adjusted to the temperature the moment Eddie’s hands were on him.

“Can I touch you?” Eddie asks, bringing Steve out of his thoughts about doing this in his pool when they got home. His hand is flat against Steve’s stomach, fingertips dragging through his happy trail.

“Want you to feel good too, love,” Steve trails one of his hands to Eddie’s front, stopping for a moment on the angry scars covering his side. “Together?”

Eddie slides impossibly closer, wrapping his hand around both of their cocks at once. Steve’s legs would’ve buckled without the help of the lake holding him up.

“Together is good,” Eddie smirks as his hand works them both over, squeezing at the tip the way Steve likes.

Steve had every intention of helping, but he’s doing all he can to keep his feet on the sandy ground and Eddie’s legs wrapped around his waist. He whimpers as Eddie leans in to kiss him slowly, a contradiction to his hand speeding up around them.

“Eddie, I’m…close.” Steve pants against his lips when he pulls back for air. His toes are curling in the sand below, and the small waves around them are splashing against their necks as Eddie’s hand moves faster. Steve’s bucking up into his touch, doesn’t care how desperate he seems.

“Me too, Stevie.” Eddie reassures him, just as breathless as Steve is.

Despite the words spoken and the increasing heat coiling in his belly, Steve gasps in surprise when he comes. He’s even more surprised when Eddie is right behind him, whispering Steve’s name repeatedly as his grip around them tightens then loosens.

Chests heaving, legs shaking, they stare at each other in the glow of the moonlight.

“I normally last a lot longer,” Steve breaks the silence.

Eddie breaks into loud laughter, head falling onto Steve’s shoulder before he realizes that the water is too high to do that without getting wet. He drops his legs and stands, keeping his arms wrapped around Steve’s waist for stability.

“New record for me, too, baby.”

“Next time, we’ll take our time.” Steve promises not only Eddie, but himself. He knows he has better self control than what Eddie just witnessed.

“You wanna head inside and take our time there?” Eddie’s smirking at him, fingers playfully teasing his sides under the water.

“Not sure I can be quiet enough.”

“Even if you bite a pillow?” Eddie pouts.

“I can be pretty loud,” Steve laughs, poking his bottom lip back to normal. “Plus, I’d like to be in one of our own beds when we ma- have sex.”

“Oh my god. Were you gonna say make love?” Eddie is squeezing his arms around him, lifting Steve up so most of his chest is out of the water. Steve’s hands rest against his shoulders, fingertips pruned from being in the water for a while.

“Maybe I was.” Steve knows he’s a sap. He doesn’t care if Eddie thinks it’s silly or stupid, but he does wanna avoid blowing this before it even has a chance to begin.

Eddie must see something in his eyes to keep him from pushing it more. He lets him back down slowly, soft smile on his face.

“I love that you care that much.” Eddie kisses the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I promise we’ll hold off on making love until we’re back home.”

Steve smiles shyly back at him.

“But I wouldn’t be opposed to getting my mouth on you after we shower.”

Steve smacks Eddie’s arm and rolls his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous. I love you.”

“You really do, don’t you?” Eddie sounds awestruck, like it’s suddenly hit him that this is happening, that Steve feels this much for him.

“I really do.”

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

Waking up in Steve’s arms for the second morning in a row felt too good to be true.

Most of this trip had felt too good to be true. Last night definitely felt like a dream.

He lets his eyes track over Steve’s bare chest, his neck, his lips pouting out as he sleeps. His eyelids are fluttering, but he’s still asleep, probably coming out of a dream.

Eddie’s fingers trace what’s left of the scar around his neck, touch light enough that Steve wouldn’t feel it in his sleep. He thinks about Steve’s bravery, how he dived head first into everything, be it protecting people from monsters or falling in love. Eddie knows Steve went without medical care after most run-ins in the Upside Down, and had only gotten some last time when Wayne insisted he do so while Eddie was in surgery.

The neck scars faded after they were patched up by a nurse, but many of his other wounds were deeper and infected, leaving a permanent reminder on his back and sides much like Eddie’s.

He traced along the outer lines of one of the scars shaped like a heart on his chest. Steve insisted it was just a weird oval, but Eddie insisted that it was a heart over his heart.

His chest hair has grown back in around it, nearly covering it up if you didn’t look close enough.

Eddie is close enough now.

It’s definitely a heart.

“Not sure how I feel about you staring at my chest that close,” Steve’s raspy voice fills his ear and he looks up to see Steve’s sleepy eyes looking at him. “Max at least had the decency to look from a distance.”

“Ha.” Eddie fake laughs. “I was just admiring your bountiful chest hair and the heart you wear on your sleeve.”

“It’s not a heart,” Steve groans as he covers Eddie’s head with his arms, pulling him on top of him. “You’re just blinded by love.”

“Who knew I’d be the optimist in this relationship?” Eddie breathes against Steve’s lips.

“Probably everyone who’s ever seen me in a relationship.” Steve kisses him quick, just a peck. “Let me up.”

“You’re the one who put me here.” Eddie doesn’t move. “Take me with you if you need to go so badly.”

“Eds, c’mon. I gotta brush my teeth.”

“So do I.”

Steve sighs. Eddie smiles.

“Fine.”

As Steve stands from the bed, Eddie wraps his legs around his waist, a mirror image to their time in the lake. Eddie’s not actually expecting Steve to carry him more than a few steps, but he blushes when he makes it all the way to the bedroom door.

“Still wanna come with me?” Steve raises his eyebrows like he knows Eddie didn’t expect him to take it this far.

“Can you seriously carry me down the hall?”

Steve stares blankly back at him. “I carried you for almost a mile when we got out of the Upside Down.”

“Touché.”

Steve manages to open the door with one hand before it goes back to Eddie’s leg, hoisting him up further so he has a better grip. Eddie just stares down at Steve’s face in amazement.

“Hey Wayne,” Steve says as they pass Wayne’s room. “Sleep okay?”

“Uh huh. There a reason you’re carrying the prince?” Wayne asks, causing Eddie to turn his head and scowl. “Wake up grumpy?”

“Woke up lazy.” Steve responded as he continued on the journey to the bathroom.

Once there, Steve set Eddie down on the floor and handed him his toothbrush. They brush their teeth together, smiling when they catch each other's eye in the mirror.

“Will you kiss me for real now?” Eddie asks after they’ve finished.

“Are you gonna walk to the kitchen by yourself or will I have to carry you?” Steve retorts.

“Your kiss will give me the power to make it.”

Steve snorts a laugh and leans in, his palm resting against Eddie’s jaw to pull him the last inch or so. The kiss is nothing like their back and forth. Steve consumes him, and Eddie lets him.

He doesn’t know how long they stand there, but he thinks it must be longer than they should.

Wayne clears his throat from the doorway. “Didn’t realize this was a part of brushin’ teeth these days.”

Eddie leaps away from Steve, panicked at the thought of Wayne knowing suddenly. He’s been out to Wayne for so long, he forgets that others probably aren’t comfortable being so open. Steve especially, who’s mentioned before that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to come out to everyone until he was sure they’d be okay with it.

“Relax, Ed. I clocked Steve months ago.” Wayne pushes past them to grab his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Move your relations outta here.”

“Relations?” Eddie gags. “Way to ruin the moment.”

“Sorry to ruin your delicate sensibilities. Get out.”

Steve pushes Eddie out of the small bathroom before he can respond. Eddie decides to focus on Steve’s hands on him instead of arguing further.

“Should we make breakfast?” Steve asks as they walk back to the bedroom to get dressed.

“I shouldn’t ever touch an oven, but I’ll watch you lovingly while you make breakfast, darling,” Eddie bats his eyelashes at Steve, who throws his shirt at him. “That’s not very nice. Did I not, and I quote, suck the soul-“

Steve’s hand covers his mouth while he sputters to cover Eddie’s voice from traveling out of the room.

“Jesus, the mouth on you.”

“That’s what you said last night.” Eddie’s words are muffled under Steve’s hand, but they both laugh. “I can make toast.”

“I’ll make the rest.”

Eddie spends the morning touching Steve as much as possible.

He spends the afternoon sneaking kisses and holding him in the hammock set up on the porch thanks to Wayne’s creativity.

He spends the evening watching Wayne and Steve fish while he drinks a beer and hands them whatever they need.

This is a peace that may only last until they leave tomorrow, but something tells him that this is only the beginning of a future Eddie never could’ve pictured for himself.

🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣🎣

five years later

Wayne slams the truck door a bit harder than he means to. The rain just started coming down harder and he wanted to get his bag in the cabin before it got worse.

When he enters the front door, the scent of freshly baked cookies wafts through the air and he smiles.

“Made it, boys!” He yells, though he’s pretty sure speaking at a normal volume would’ve been enough. The cabin hasn’t changed much, but Steve insisted on opening up the front portion so it felt more welcoming.

“Wayne!” Steve exclaims as he pops up from behind the counter of the kitchen. “You just missed Eddie. He went out to the trail.”

Wayne gives Steve a tight hug. At Steve’s frown, he laughs. “Sorry ‘bout the wet clothes. Started raining the last couple miles in and got heavier just as I was leavin’ the truck.”

“Oh no.” Steve groaned.

Just as he spoke, the back door slammed open and Eddie dropped his camera bag on the floor.

Wayne and Steve both took in the sight of him, drenched from head to toe, dripping onto the tile floor, and laughed.

“I hate the outdoors.”

“You’re a nature photographer. You hate the rain.” Steve walks over to him, still laughing under his breath. He picks up the bag before leaning in to kiss his cheek.

Wayne watches the exchange, fighting tears back at the reason he was invited to their cabin this weekend.

Eddie was proposing to Steve and wanted Wayne to be there to capture it with his camera. He didn’t care that Wayne was an old man who could barely operate a camera, he just wanted someone to do it.

He knew Eddie was also a little nervous and having Wayne there would help keep him calm.

Why he was nervous, Wayne didn’t know.

They couldn’t legally get married, but they might as well be anyway.

“Wayne!” Eddie bounces over to him and throws his arms around him, forgetting for a moment that he’s soaked. “You’re here!”

“I’m here. I’d like to be less wet, though.”

Eddie backs up and Wayne pats his shoulder.

“Both of you should go get changed. Dinner’s ready in ten minutes.” Steve interrupts on his way to put Eddie’s camera bag in their room.

“Yes, dear,” Eddie replies. Steve turns and glares for a moment before continuing on his way. Once he’s out of sight, Eddie sighs. “God, I love that man.”

“That’s why I’m here, ain’t it?” Wayne playfully shoves at Eddie’s arm. “We better listen to him. I’m starvin’ and I think he’d make us fend for ourselves if we show up at the table dripping wet.”

As Wayne changes, he can hear Steve laughing in their room, Eddie talking about something he saw outside in the usual dramatic way he spoke. He thinks back to the first time he brought his boys here together, how hushed they tried to be, how hesitant.

He looked over at a photo Eddie framed for this room so Wayne had something when he came to stay.

Paul was smiling at the camera, arm wrapped around Eddie’s shoulders, Wayne looking at both of them with a smile. He remembers laughing right after the picture was taken, and giving in and buying them both cotton candy. They insisted it wouldn’t make them sick, then proceeded to both rush to the nearest garbage can after they got off the Gravitron at the fair.

“Wayne! Steve’s bullying me!” Eddie yells.

“You probably deserve it!” He yells back.

“Unbelievable!” Eddie screams.

“Ha!” Steve yells.

Wayne shakes his head as he makes his way out to the chaos he chose to be a part of this weekend.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for not helping my family pay for hospital bills?

🎷🔥 so i can find it later

This is going to need a lot of context right off the bat. I (20'sM) am a gay man that comes from an extremely conservative family. My sister (20'sF) is also a lesbian and recently got married and adopted a child. I'm very proud of her, but that's not the issue.

My parents seem to have little to no issue with my sister marrying a woman. They do have a very big issue with me liking dudes, however. Like, it was the reason my parents got divorced "big issue." I'm not gonna go into everything, but my sister ended up with my dad and I stayed with my mom for reasons I'd rather not share.

Our last parting was on... less than decent terms. Upon finding out that I was of the homosexual variety, my dad flipped his lid. He called me several slurs and said some other very hurtful things, and even made moves to physically attack me. My mom, also a very homophobic woman, stepped in and thankfully talked him down. Then divorce, etc etc.

I saved up enough money to move out when I turned 18 and may have done some impulsive things including completely trashing my mom's bathroom, which I know I'm definitely the asshole for, but in my defense my mom kept "forgetting" to pick up my prescriptions and I was manic (I have bipolar). But, again, I know I'm the AH for that.

I now live with my two best friends R (20sNB) and P (20sM) in a house we all pay for. R comes from money so they help out a lot, and I love them both to death. We kind of have a sort of situationship but none of us are poly? Idk it's weird we're just going with it rn.

Anyway, I bring them up bc we all went to my sister's wedding together, and my parents separately chewed me out for bringing them (and for R daring to wear a dress. They're amab for context) and I obviously argued back bc hey they're my best friends and my sister specifically said it was okay for me to bring them (she and R are also friends and they wouldve been invited regardless of me bringing P) and also because R looks very good in a dress and i can handle them shit-talking me but i will not tolerate slander towards R or P.

At the wedding, I went full no contact with them and told them to lose my number. They, ofc, did Not lose my number and I got several calls from extended family saying about what you would expect them to say, so I switched numbers and gave only my sister and her wife my new number.

My sister. I love her to pieces but sometimes she gets on my nerves. She gives my number to my mom to have "just in case," but she reassures me that she won't give it to my dad or any other family. So far, she's made good on that promise, I just have to deal with periodic calls about getting a girlfriend and having kids.

Now, my dad isn't the healthiest guy out there. He has arthritis, osteoporosis, and several other things that i don't really wanna get into. As he's aged he's only gotten worse and there have been several times he's almost died, but recently he's been put on hospice and has an estimated Not Very Long to live.

Here's where I may be the AH. My dad calls me while I'm at a very important, personal event for R (he got my number from my mom) and goes on a long rant on how I'm an unlovable disgrace and how he fed me and clothed me and I could make up for all that by helping him pay off hospital debt. I say no immediately and tell him that he's never been my dad, only my dna donor, and that he's going to be dead anyway and that selling his house could cover all the bills. He calls me many more names and tells me he wishes I was never born (calling my mom some very derogatory names too (she's asian)) and that i should just go ahead and off myself to save the world someone like me. I tell him he should die faster while he's at it because God knows the world already has enough bigots in it and there could never be too many mentally ill queers.

I hung up, but now I'm thinking I went a bit too far. AITA for not helping out with his hospital bills and yelling at him?

What are these acronyms?

[sirfrogsworth]

My dad passed away a few hours after I left the hospital.

I really didn't want him to be alone when it happened. I figured we had at least another week before the toxins built up in his system. But he had congestive heart failure along with renal failure and I think he would have passed tonight whether he stopped dialysis or not. I'm so glad we didn't attempt that amputation. He would have gone through that and died a few days later regardless.

When I left he was in a very deep sleep. So at least I was there for his last moments of consciousness. The last thing he saw was a loved one. I still wish I had stayed tonight. They even asked me if I'd like to spend the night and I had this feeling like maybe I should. But my back was on fire and I was very sleepy. And I wanted to make sure I was able to meet his visitors in the morning. So I went home to get some rest.

I know people will comfort me and say it's okay, but my mom died all alone in the ICU. She couldn't even have visitors. And I just didn't want that for my dad. I wanted to be by his side holding his hand.

In any case, they called around 12:40 am. I barely held it together until I hung up the phone. I called my brother to let him know. Then I woke up Katrina to hear a comforting voice to calm me down. I wish she could have hugged me, but the power of her hugging spirit is so profound you can almost feel it through the phone.

I let her get back to sleep and I went back to the hospital at about 1 am. I had to enter through the ER and an armed security guard escorted me to the elevators. I went up to the 4th floor to the hospice suite (aka a regular hospital room with string lights). I met with my dad's night nurse--a lovely Haitian gentleman named Kennedy.

He escorted me into my father's room. He had prepared it to try and make me more comfortable. He made sure the room had enough light, but not overwhelmingly so. The room was spotless so I guess they must have cleaned it. They packed up my father's belongings and placed them in the corner. Kennedy had the TV set to some sort of relaxation channel. It had images of beaches, mellow music, and sounds of the ocean. Though it made it hard to hear him and I wish he had just left the TV off. Ocean sounds were not going to make seeing my dad any more pleasant. But I guess I appreciate the effort.

My dad was still in his hospital bed. They adjusted it to be perfectly flat and they covered him with the soft, fuzzy microfiber blanket I brought to help my dad be more comfortable. Hospital blankets were scratchy to his sensitive skin. His eyes were closed but his mouth was wide open. I'm wondering if they were unable to close it. My eyes kept playing tricks on me because I kept thinking I saw his chest rise and fall. Maybe my brain just wanted to believe he was just sleeping.

The nurse had me sign a document and gave me some privacy to say goodbye. Once he left I quickly turned off those damn ocean sounds. They were really distracting.

I don't really believe you can talk to the dead. So I just grabbed his belongings, pulled his fuzzy blanket off and left the room.

I guess next up is the service. I am going to try to write a eulogy tomorrow. Hopefully I can find the words to honor my dad's life.

Thank you all for helping support me through this. All of your messages and thoughts really did help make this more tolerable. And thank you for putting up with all of my bored hospital thoughts.

I guess I am going to try and get a few more hours of sleep before I start calling people in the morning. I'll have to let my dad's friends know they can't visit him.

Goodnight everyone.

[vioartemis]

Savior

(Tara Carpenter x fem! Riley! reader)

Summary: After you witnessed your dad's death, you weren't yourself anymore. But maybe all hopes weren't lost... Request are here and here (I have no idea if that's what both of you wanted ._.) Warnings: angst, blood, death (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

When your friend Tara got attacked by someone in a Ghostface costume, you immediately went to your dad for advice; he had dealt with Ghostface 4 times already, he was in the best position to help.

He told you the rules, the must do... everything you need to know. Of course, he tried to convince you not to stay here, to go with your mom in New York until it was over. But you were stubborn, almost as much as your mother - who, by the way, you were sure was not going to stay where she was with a new Ghostface in Woodsboro.

It was his advice that led you to stay in the hospital with Tara while everyone else was gathered at Mindy and Chad's.

"Don't let her alone, she's going to need support. The police are here to protect her, but she has no one to support her mentally." your dad had told you.

So you were here, sitting in an uncomfortable chair beside her, trying to distract and comfort her. You were not the best at it, but you tried. And she appreciated it. She was glad you were with her.

She was even more glad when the weird noises started. When no one answered her "hello?". When after that, exiting the room to reassure yourselves and find the police officer had become necessary. When you got back in her room, livid, after finding said officer's dead body.

You too were glad you were here to push her wheelchair towards the elevator and make sure she was okay.

Then, Ghostface attacked. You tried to throw things at him, buying Tara more time so she could reach the elevator. But soon, you got overpowered. Fortunately, at that moment, Sam and your dad arrived.

Dewey tried to shoot the killer, and knocked him out, before the 4 of you went to the elevator. Just as the doors were about to close, your dad stopped them, and stepped out, saying that Ghostface must be shot in the head.

As soon as he got out of the elevator, you knew it wasn't going to end well. And yet you thought you could change that and followed him.

Of course, you were wrong.

Your presence didn't prevent Ghostface to kill your dad. If anything, you were sure he took more pleasure doing it knowing you were here, helpless.

You felt as if everything was in slow motion. You knew you need to move, do something, anything, to save him. But it didn't matter how much you wanted to move; you were paralyzed by fear, by shock. Your body wasn't responding anymore.

You weren't even sure you were conscious, until you felt warm tears rolling down your face.

It was a nightmare. It had to be.

You were going to wake up soon, and everything would be okay.

You were trying to convince yourself, but deep down, you knew. You knew it was real.

The knife sinking in his chest, the blood staining his shirt and splattering on the floor, his body lying in a pool of blood... it was all real.

You couldn't take your eyes away from his bloody form, still hoping to see him sit up and shoot the killer. You were so desperate you hadn't noticed Ghostface coming toward you until you tasted blood in your mouth.

And even then, with a knife in the stomach, you were still not reacting.

The arrival of police officers didn't change anything; you were staring at your dad's corpse, dried tears on your face, a puddle of blood forming around you.

The rest of the day was a complete blur for you. You were unable to say what happened after your dad died, nor how you survived that night.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

A year after that day, you were still not doing so much better.

Your mom being always moving for her work, you moved out with Tara and the others to New York.

They had learnt pretty quickly not to let you alone; you almost got run over by a car at least 3 times when crossing the road and seemed to have no will to live whatsoever.

Truth was, you didn't care whether you lived or died. You were already dead inside. You didn't take any pleasure in doing anything. Nothing seemed to be able to make you feel better.

Except for Tara.

She was the only one you opened to since you dad died. The only one to make you feel safe. To make you feel anything at all.

And then, Ghostface appeared again, just when you started to think it things would get better, and your mom was between life and death.

All the progresses you had made with Tara were reduced to ashes.

"Y/n...?"

You looked up, hearing Tara's soft voice, as she placed a hand on yours.

"Don't worry, she's going to be okay. She's strong, she'll survive this. Now you must focus on yourself. I don't want to lose you..." she paused, seemingly thinking of how to phrase what she wanted to say "I know it's hard for you since last year but... Y/n, I- you're very important to me... much more than you could imagine..."

When she looked at you, her dark eyes were filled with something you never saw in them before. You were not quite sure what it was, but it was here.

As always when you were with her, your heart started beating faster. At this moment, it was like a bubble had formed around you. Nothing else existed anymore. It was just the two of you.

"I really want to kiss you right now... Is it okay...?"

You nodded slightly, almost instinctively.

One of Tara's hands snaked to the back of your neck while the other went to your cheek. She pulled you down a bit as she tilted her head up.

When your lips finally met, you felt a pleasant warmth flow through you. Her lips were soft against yours. The kiss was gentle, yet full of love. It felt right, so right.

"Tara, Y/n, we-"

You pulled away as you heard Sam's voice, a slight blush spreading across your face.

"Jesus, Sam...!" Tara hissed at her sister

"I'm sorry I ruined your moment, but we have other problems right now.. It was a trap, we're locked here, Kirby-"

She got cut off by Ghostface barging in the room, stabbing Tara in her back before any of you could react.

You felt something snap in you.

The barrier your father's death had built in you collapsed the moment Tara grunted in pain.

You couldn't protect your parents from Ghostface; this time, you would do anything to protect Tara. She lit up your world when you were alone in the dark. She gave you a reason to live, something to fight for.

And you would put all your strength in this fight.

As Tara fell in your arms, Ghostface tried to stab her again. You kicked him in the stomach, making him stumble a few meters away.

You took this opportunity to drag Tara towards the door, following Sam who already opened it. The three of you made your way to the main part of the shrine, when Ghostface jumped right in front of you.

He tried to stab you, but luckily you dodged the knife.

A chase started in the shrine; Ghostface was behind you, he didn't seem to give up, and was soon going to catch up to you.

With both Carpenter sisters' help, you managed to make him fall to the ground after throwing the popcorn machine to him. Tara even kicked him in the face -which you found kinda hot.

You grabbed a heavy object on the counter and were about to slam it on Ghostface's head, when you felt a blade sink in your side; another Ghostface had come from the shadows, and now both of them were stabbing you.

Tara tried to help you, but Sam held her back.

"Go." you managed to say, blood dripping down your chin, right before the two killers pulled their blades out of your abdomen

You fell forward, face first, and everything turned black.

When you regained consciousness, you were laying in a puddle of blood, alone. Your wounds hurt so bad. Every inch of your body hurt; you just wanted to lay here and sleep.

But a scream in the other room made your heart stop. Tara. She was in danger. You needed to get up and help her.

As much as you wanted to, your body didn't seem to want to move.

"Come on...! Just fucking get up Y/n...!" you told yourself, with gritted teeth

With a strangled scream, you managed to stand up. But you were weak, you could barely stand without something to support you.

Despite that, you started walking to the main room; the thought of Tara being in danger was enough to give you strength.

And when you saw Quinn attacking the brunette, you didn't feel the pain anymore. Or you didn't pay attention to it. The only thing that mattered was to save her.

You made your way towards them, grabbing a brick on a pile, and once you were close enough, smacked Quinn's head with it. The shock sent her to the floor, and she dropped her knife.

You were quick to take the weapon and grabbed the redhead by her hair. Even in this position, she had a wide, crazy grin on her face.

"Oh, Y/n. You're tougher than I thought. But are you strong enough to kill me before I end your girlfriend's life? Not so sure" she said, as she shoved two fingers in one of your wounds

You clenched your teeth not to give her the satisfaction of hearing you scream in pain.

"It hurts, doesn't it? I wonder if it will hurt that much when I'll sink my blade in her-"

"Don't you fucking dare." you growled, glaring at her

"Or what? You'll kill me? I don't think you will. You're too good for that. Your father wouldn't want that, would he? He's gonna be pissed from where he is if you-"

You didn't let her finish her sentence. In one swift motion, you slit her throat. Blood splattered on your face, before she fell to the ground.

You looked at her for a second, making sure she was really dead, before turning to Tara.

"You okay?" you asked

"Y-yeah, thanks to you..."

You nodded at her words.

"Great"

Immediately after saying that, your legs couldn't hold you anymore, and you collapsed on the floor, passing out again.

An undefined period of time later, voices around you made you open your eyes. You were on a stretcher, oxygen mask on your face. Surprisingly, you still were alive.

The paramedics made you exit the shrine, and Tara rushed to you as soon as she saw you. She took off your mask and kissed you, but quickly stopped when she realized you might need that oxygen.

"I was so worried about you..." she whispered

"I don't know why... I'm perfectly fine" you said jokingly

She rolled her eyes, but you could see she was smiling.

"I'm happy you've regained your will to live"

"It's all thanks to you..." you replied with a smile "Really, if I hadn't fell for you... I don't think I'd still be here"

"So I'm kinda like your savior, hm?" she asked with a slight smirk

"Yeah, you can say that" you chuckled

Tara's grin only got wider at your words. She placed a soft kiss on your forehead, before whispering

"I love you"

"I love you too, Tara"

[chososchalupa]

my brain is hungry but not for smut instead it wants angsts

can i request a oneshot (specifically for chuuya because i love him) about him being a single dad with a baby and his wife died or somethin and how he copes up and still tries to stay positive until the end despite the love of his life dead?

The idea of him being a single father is a thing i've been thinking about for a while now 🥺

ahh of course, i love a good sad moment. I was very excited to see this in my inbox so i wrote it asap

Forever was meant for memories, not for people

Content,, F!Reader x Chuuya, Death during childbirth, angst af, not proofread

WC- 673

A year ago today was supposed to be the happiest day of Chuuya’s life. He had sat in the hospital room beside you, looking back on the memories you shared together. The memories before you brought a sweet boy into this world.

~~~

Chuuya had come back from a mission late, dried blood covering his face and staining his white shirt. 

“Chuuya!” You smiled as he walked into your bedroom , “I have a gift for you!”

“A gift? For what?” He asked, looking through his closet for a change of clothes.

“Go change and come back!” 

He looked at you with a confused look, “okay…”

He quickly came back, showered and changed, and got in bed beside you. You gave him a quick kiss before giving him a small box.

He looked at you once more before opening the box, revealing a positive pregnancy test.

“Are you…You’re pregnant?!” He asked, eyes wide.

You nodded, tears filling your eyes.

Chuuya couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face, “This is the best news”, he whispered before kissing you deeply. 

Over the next few months, Chuuya and yourself spent all of your free time decorating the nursery, buying clothes, and just enjoying eachothers company before a new baby was brought into your lives.

~~~

“It’s a boy!” The doctor announced

Chuuya jumped from his chair in the ultrasound room, “A boy!! Are you sure?!” 

The doctor chuckled and showed Chuuya the ultrasound. This was the happiest you’ve ever seen your husband. 

The last few months of the pregnancy, all Chuuya talked about was his excitement to have a little him.

“You’re going to be such a good dad” You smiled, looking over at your husband who was once again talking about how he could not wait for the birth of your sweet boy.

Chuuya placed his hand on your stomach, feeling the soft kicks press onto his hand, “And you're going to be the best mom. We’re going to be the best parents for him”

~~

Although, you would never be able to be a parent alongside him. This day a year ago was almost a blur for Chuuya. The two of you had been in the hospital for days due to some complications. Doctors were in and out of the room constantly, neither of you slept during those days. 

The time finally came for the baby to come but instead of a joyous moment, the doctor's faces showed nothing but fear. 

“We need to get her in surgery now or we will lose them both” was all Chuuya heard before you were taken away.

“Will they be okay?” He asked, his eyes filling with tears as he sat in the surgical waiting room.

Nobody had any answers. Chuuya sat for hours until a doctor came out, he shot from his chair but not out of excitement this time. 

“I’m sorry,” the doctor spoke. “We did everything we could. We were able to save him though”

The world went dark, the love of his life was gone. It all happened too fast, you were supposed to raise your baby together. Have a family and grow old and be together forever. Now none of that would happen. 

Chuuya had taken a few hours to calm down before walking in to meet his new son. Holding him gently and close, he looked down at the wide-eyed infant. “You look just like your mother,” he whispered, tears flowing down his cheeks.

~~

Throughout the year, Chuuya had learned to overcome a lot. He was grieving while also taking care of his new baby. Of course, he had help from the mafia. Everyone was more than happy to babysit while Chuuya left on missions or simply stay with Chuuya while he slept and showered. But nothing could make up for the emptiness in his chest. You were supposed to be here with him, watching your son say his first words and take his first steps. 

~~

Today was his first birthday. The Mafia and ADA joined together to throw a party for Chuuya’s precious boy.

“I am very proud of you, Chuuya. She would be too. You are a very good father” Mori stood alongside Chuuya, watching his son play with Kyouka and Koyo. 

Chuuya let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, boss? I don’t know how I’m managing without her. I wish she could’ve met him”

Mori let out a small sigh before patting Chuuya on the back, “She may not know him but he’ll know her. I’m sure of it”

Chuuya didn’t respond as Mori walked away.

Mori was right, he would know how beautiful his mother was, how selfless and kind she was. He will grow to love her despite never truly meeting her. You would always be together through his memories.

The past year had been one of the hardest Chuuya had ever experienced and though he wished you could’ve been there along with him, His heart was full watching his now one year old son laugh and play with his, what Chuuya would call, family.