#anyway seriously grateful for my sisters who are just. giving me their extra inhalers of a script i can't afford

[thetragicallynerdy]

the good news about being a poor canadian is that if i need a doctors appointment i can get one quickly and for free

the bad news about being a poor canadian is that if they want to prescribe me medication there's a 70% chance i can't afford it lmao

[writingthingsisdifficult]

Perfect afternoon

Anonymous sent a request: Could you please write something with Sam for me? Maybe like the song For Forever by Dear Evan Hansen please? I just lost my sister to cancer and I need something to look forward to. Thank you

This was a bit hard to write, had to let the song simmer for a while before inspiration struck, ‘cause the song is so melancholic – but I hope you like what I came up with, and I hope you have let the grief run its course, but not let it consume your life.

Note: I’ve used the song for inspiration, it may not be that easily recognised all the time.

Sam x reader, and there’s no warnings on this that I can think of, except some language, I guess.

Word count: 2620

June has transitioned into July before we caught a bit of a break and got to relax for a while. The spring and early summer was hell, quite literally, and all of us yearned for a few days of just breathing and living without fighting to survive. So at the first sign of peace Dean and I managed to convince Sam that a small holiday was an absolute necessity.

That’s how we find ourselves in a spacious cabin, courtesy of a very grateful, old widow whose late husband tried to shut her in the basement of their very old-fashioned home. Granted: she didn’t fully understand what happened at the time, but she understood enough to know that we saved her life, and rescued her beloved, rat-like, yappy-type dog too, and promptly offered us unlimited use of her mountain cabin. As she said: it was just sitting there, dusty and unused anyway.

Mountain cabin is probably a bit generous, though. It is located on the outskirts of a small town nestled snugly at the base of a picturesque range of tall hills, but not high enough to warrant extra gear or a big car to get us there – but it is private enough to shield us from the curious eyes of the locals.

Dean took to it immediately. The weather is warm, and the air is dry, and he spends the days either on the shore of the small lake just behind the cabin with a cold beer in one hand and a musty, old fishing rod he’s excavated from one of the many cupboards, or with a bucket of soapy water and a rag, taking care of his one true love.

“Baby needs some love,” he says, sending looks of adoration and affection to the car, the water spraying rainbows into the air. The Impala shines like a star, standing happily in the gravel by the porch.

Taking refuge from the scorching mid-day sun, I sit down in the porch swing – carefully, testing that the wood hasn’t rotted through. It proves an unnecessary worry: the swing creaks a bit under my weight, but holds up, and I rock back and forth on my toes. “Seriously, Dean, that is not a healthy relationship,” I tease, giggling from the dark look in his eyes once he overcomes the initial shock of my indecent accusation.

“She’s not young anymore, Y/N, you know that. She needs a lot of TLC –“

“Relax, dude. I didn’t mean it. You two are made for each other. You’ll make each other very happy –“

“Shut it! Go bother Sam if you can’t be nice.” He picks up the bucket and carries it over to the other side of the car, out of my sight.

Shrugging, I get to my feet. “I would, but I don’t know where he is,” I say, hoping my voice sounds normal. Sam has been restless ever since the evening we arrived – like he has forgotten how to relax, and I rarely see him other than at breakfast and dinner. What he does with the rest of his time is a mystery. And it sort of breaks my heart a little.

Sam’s happiness, or lack of, affects me a lot. During the years we’ve known each other, I so very foolishly have gone and fallen in love with him, but I lack the courage to do anything at all about it. Instead, I have buried my thumping heart deep in my chest, and evicted all the fluttering butterflies from my stomach, and pretend that we were just friends. Because that’s what we’ve always been.

Dean pokes his head over the roof of the car and cocks his head. “Last I saw him, he sat out back with his nose in a book. Knowing him, he hasn’t moved yet.” He shakes his head and ducks back down behind the car again, muttering about rest and relaxation and not being able to take a break from research.

Jumping to my feet, I offer thanks over my shoulder and heads for the kitchen, thinking I might as well have an excuse for interrupting Sam when he obviously wants to be alone. I grab a couple of glasses and the mug of lemonade I made for lunch and head into the meadow behind the cabin.

Even though I am used to being around Sam, I still stutter a bit when I see him. He has laid out a folded blanket on the grass and sits with the book in his hand, but his face is turned towards the sun. The flannel he usually wears is discarded in a crumpled heap by his feet, and he’s kicked off his shoes and socks. If I had ever thought about how my personal heaven would look like, this would come very close.

“Hey,” I say when I get close enough.

Opening his eyes, he blinks a couple of times, and then he smiles. “Hey.”

I can’t think of anything else to say, so I simply hold out the lemonade with a tilt to my head: an unspoken offer. Sam puts away his book and scoots over to make room for me. As I sit down, I only spill a couple of drops, but it is enough to make me yelp in surprise as the cold liquid slosh over my knee, sending an icy blast through my veins. The sound of Sam laughing so heartily makes me feel like I am soaring through the blue skies.

It’s as if time slows down. A light breeze blows over us, gifting us the music from unseen birds in the trees and the buzzing insects. Drowsy summer day heat rolls over our faces, and we watch the slow ripples on the lake, just taking in the calm and storing it for times when shit blows up.

I gotta say something – this balloon in my chest is almost bursting, but when I look at Sam, I’m afraid I’m gonna talk gibberish. Taking a deep breath, I roll my shoulders. “You know what I really want right now?” My mind is set, but I chicken out at the last minute, when his beautiful eyes lock with mine. All air rushes out of my lungs. Typical. “A proper ice cream. Like made of cream and real vanilla seeds and chocolate.” The lie comes fast and seamlessly, and I don’t think he notices the hesitation that lasts for a fraction of a moment. But there is no hiding the colour that spreads over my cheeks or the heat that flushes my face like a furnace. I pick at the frayed edge of the blanket.

Sam looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, and we just sit there, watching the trees and the water and the sun slowly making her way over the sky. To our left a bumblebee is busy head-butting all the flowers it can find, and the sight make me giggle.

“They don’t look like the smartest of animals, do they?” I reply to Sam’s curious look, pointing at the flying paradox that is now eagerly trying to fit into a light pink foxglove that is just a couple of sizes too small.

“Uh-huh…” says Sam, laughing at the bumbling creature, not noticing my lingering gaze or how I stop myself from reaching out to run my hand through his hair. Instead, he points to a different flower. “Look, there’s another one. They’re kinda… graceful…”

“Really?” I snort.

“Well, considering they’re not really supposed to be able to fly, I’d say it’s almost like a ballet dancer,” he replies with a sheepish smile.

Flopping over on my stomach, I hide my face in the blanket for a second before laughing loudly and startling the closest bumblebee. “The Ballet of the Bumblebee,” I proclaim, waving my hand dramatically, awkwardly striking a vague pose.

We fall quiet again, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve always been comfortable with silence. So close to the ground, the rich, dark scent of drying soil fills my nose, and I inhale deeply, cementing this day in my memories.

Without thinking, I pick a yellow flower and wafting it slowly back and forth. The scent is almost buttery, and sweet, and transports me back to when I was young and carefree, and the biggest worry I had was the amount of homework Mr. Lewis assigned over the weekend.

The flower slips out of my hand, and floats tucks itself behind my ear –I look up to find Sam looking down at me. His eyes are soft, and his hand lingers around the flower stem. “I…” he says, but shuts up. His eyes flick up towards the cabin, and a few seconds later, Dean saunters past us, with the cooler in one hand, and the fishing rod in the other. He is humming to himself, and almost skips over the grass.

Sitting up, Sam clears his throat. “Hey, Dean, you done with your baby?”

“Huh?” He stops and looks around, as if he hasn’t even noticed us sitting there. “Yeah, for now. Why?”

“Gimme the keys. I want ice cream.”

My head whips in Sam’s direction, and I ungraciously swallow a lot of air, and I probably look like an idiot with my eyes on stalks when Dean fishes the keys from his pocket. Before he tosses them to Sam, he gives us a stern look. “No funny business,” he says with half a smile. “And don’t you dare hurt her,” he adds after some thought.

“What, the car or Y/N?” Sam asks lightly, pulling me to my feet, but Dean’s answer is nothing more than a mumbled grumble. We burst out laughing, and run and stumble towards the cabin before Dean can change his mind.

Sam must have been more awake than me when we first drove into town, because he has no trouble finding parking space, and moments later, he pulls me through the door and into a small ice cream shop that I could swear just popped out of nowhere.

They don’t have too many flavours to choose from, but it’s enough, and we both end up with a couple of scoops of soft deliciousness that threaten to drip down our hands in the heat from the sun.

Licking the ice cream and walking slowly through the sleepy streets, we make our way to a small park that’s obviously made with passing tourists in mind – it’s filled with fake “authentic” monuments over semi-historical events and places, and every couple of yards there’s benches dedicated to people who no doubt are famous if you were born in this town.

Sitting down on one dedicated to Deirdre, who, according to the plaque, didn’t give a crap about the park, but liked to feed the pigeons, we watch people wander by, and the trees and the squirrels foraging and preparing for colder weather.

I nod towards a large grey one, and suck a drop of sugary cream off my finger. “Did you know they sometimes pretend to bury their nuts and seeds to fool other squirrels? Like, they dig a hole and drop the nut in, but really it’s still in their mouth, and then they go bury it somewhere else.” I’m rambling, I know, but suddenly I feel Sam’s sitting so close that my brain can barely function.

“You know so much weird shit, Y/N,” Sam says and stuffs the rest of his cone into his mouth like he has no worries in the whole world. How can he not know how he makes me go all gooey inside?

“Heh, yeah, I’m killing it on trivia nights.”

Smiling, Sam exhales through his nose. “I can’t remember the last time we did a quiz night. It’s gotta be years, right?”

Scrunching my eyes together, I try to remember, but I come up blank. “I think so. We don’t get much normal nights out, do we, Sam?”

“Nah. I guess… What do you think you’d do if… if you weren’t in the, uh, business, I mean?”

His voice is soft, and I imagine I can hear a whole lifetime of sadness in it. “I, uh, I don’t know,” I reply, clearing my throat to remove the sudden lump behind my uvula. “Just normal stuff, you know? Travel, I guess… I hope I’d still be writing. Maybe I’d publish a book or something. That would be cool. But I can’t really imagine having a regular job, you know?” I sigh, and stare down the path that disappears under the trees. “How about you?”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

I say, “me too,” and smile into my ice cream.

“No really, I mean it, Y/N.” His hand lands on top of mine, the one I rest on the bench seat, and he squeezes lightly. In my chest, my heart stops, and when I finally dare to look up, his eyes shine with something new. “If this is what I get… If I get to be with you, just this day, then… Life will be alright for forever this way.”

Standing up, he suddenly says, “follow me,” and we walk quickly towards the small hill over by the blackberry bushes – and I wonder if I just imagined the last five minutes.

When we pass the berries, and start half climbing up the rocky slope, I’m pretty convinced that my mind is playing tricks on me, but I can’t give up on that thought that something big is going to happen, that soon my life will be turned upside down. With my mind wandering, I place one foot after the other, the ground is wobbly, but the sun shines in our faces, so no one can blame me for not paying attention.

But then I step on a loose stone: I slip and fall, tumbling down a few yards. My foot feels weird, there’s a knobbly branch poking my back, and the world seems upside down indeed. Groaning, I try to feel my foot. It’s not broken. That’s good, at least. No, it’s nothing serious: just a bruised ankle, and an equally bruised pride.

“Oh shit, you okay?” Sam’s head appears over my face, a worried look in his eyes. He has come to get me, and everything is okay. Everything is okay.

I try to nod, but it’s weird when down is up and up is down, so I just smile. “Hhhh… yeah. Just got knocked about a little. I’m… I’m good.” Sitting up, I wince from the pain in my side, but it disappears when Sam offers me his hand and pull me up – and then don’t let go of me when I’m securely on my feet.

Hand in hand we climb to the top – and the view is breathtaking. We can see for forever from here: the vast, blue sky and the mountains and the small town behind us. I step up on a stone, maybe it’s to get a better look, or maybe it’s subconsciously, I don’t know, but blood rushes in my ears from knowing I’m here, with Sam, and we’re watching the sun over the trees and the soft pastels painting the sky. In any case, I don’t notice Sam watching me.

A cool breeze sends a ripple of goosebumps over my skin, and then I feel the warmth of his skin like a wall against my back, and I half turn to look what he’s doing, and his face is so close to mine I feel his breath fan over my lips as he leans in. The hair on my arms rise, and in my chest my heart is beating its rhythmic music, and right that moment – on that perfect afternoon – we’re both on the top of the world.

Tagging my for forever beautiful friends:

@awesomeahwu @brynleewolfe @funwithfanfics @babeinthebowtie @savingapplepie-eatingthings @winchesterprincessbride @savvythedork @littlegreenplasticsoldier @youtubehelpsmesurvive @blackcherrywhiskey @mrswhozeewhatsis @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @aiaranradnay @fandomismyspiritanimal @barneybrigade  @mogaruke @wstrumpel @whovianextrodinare @hennessy0274-blog @sushi-senpai-chan @tardis-is-mine @badasssweetsrebel @jensensjaredsandmishaslover @megasimpleplan4ever @iamreadinginsecret

[literaphobe]

and all we have, we lose

AKA a sad reason for why i think gina and rosa have been avoiding each other like the plague these past four episodes. takes place after Moo Moo, and there may be a part two depending on what happens in the finale

When Terry finally gets home from the precinct, he sees his baby twins laughing and running around with Gina and Rosa, who too are laughing and running around. They all wield small water pistols and appear to be engaged in some sort of all out war, as the mess in his living room suggests. Books and sofa cushions and scraps of paper are strewn across the room, and in the center of all the chaos are two chairs placed with their backs against each other, pink skipping rope gathered in a coil-like fashion around the chairs.

No one even notices him, they're all having too much fun. And frankly, it's a heartening scene for Terry to watch. His two coworkers who are basically family to him have transformed before his very eyes. The usually frowning Rosa Diaz who stares daggers into anyone that crosses her now looks so carefree as she abandons her water gun to hold up Cagney so that she has a better vantage point from which to attack Gina and Lacey. The ever so sardonic Gina Linetti on the other hand, who would be voted Most Likely To Save Her Phone Over A Person's Life any day of the week- is actually acting as some sort of human shield for Lacey, pretending to sacrifice herself so that Lacey can live.

But Terry's not one bit surprised. Okay, he didn't expect this, but he doesn't find this situation to be completely unexpected. Gina and Rosa were softies at heart, and if any two children could bring that side out of them they would be his baby girls.

He feels all the fatigue and ache from these daunting past few days seep away from his shoulders, contentment and bliss taking over instead, which is when he finally decides to make his presence known.

"Guess who's home?"

"Daddy!"

Like flies with honey, Cagney and Lacey drop their toys and run as fast as their tiny legs can carry them into Terry's arms as he effortlessly lifts them up in a big hug.

"Did you have fun playing with Aunt Gina and Aunt Rosa?" Terry asks as he directs grateful looks at the two, who seem to be straightening themselves up, futilely brushing water off their now rather drenched clothes.

"Yes!" Cagney and Lacey excitedly cheer in unison as they both stretch their arms out.

"That's great, girls. Now go get Mr Quack-Quack, it's bath time!"

Terry puts Cagney and Lacey down which sends them running to locate their favorite rubber duck. He looks up at Gina and Rosa again, who are now giving him incredulous looks.

"You call your rubber ducky Mr Quack-Quack?"

Rosa's grin broadens as Gina points this out, and Terry sighs because they wouldn't be Gina and Rosa if they didn't tease him about the names of his children's bath toys, would they?

"Cagney and Lacey call their rubber ducky Mr Quack-Quack. Terry doesn't have a rubber ducky, because Terry's an adult man."

"Whatever you say," Rosa replies. "Mr Quack-Quack."

Gina starts cracking up and soon the two women dissolve in uncontrollable laughter.

"But seriously you two," he interrupts because he can't spend all night watching them laugh, he has to get his daughters washed up and tucked into bed within the next two hours. And he also has to clean up the huge mess that appears to have been caused by a tornado striking his house, rather than two grown women and his twins. "Thank you so much for taking care of Cagney and Lacey."

Rosa shakes her head. "Nah, it's cool. We had nothing to do anyway."

"But we will be requesting a fee of five thousand dollars," Gina adds. "Seriously, your kids tied us up for half an hour- how are they so strong?"

Rosa seems to shudder at the memory.

"I'm not going to give you five thousand dollars," Terry clarifies, although he does sympathize with what they went through. Cagney and Lacey were already on their third babysitter. For that month. "But you have my gratitude, and I owe both of you one."

"That's sweet and all Terr-Bear, but gratitude don't pay the bills." Rosa rolls her eyes somewhat affectionately at Gina as she says this before she grabs her by the shoulder and starts moving her away.

"Yeah, we were just leaving. Bye Sarge."

The door slams shut just as Cagney and Lacey run back with Mr Quack-Quack. And Moo Moo. And President Long Neck, plus her twin sister who was also coincidentally named President Long Neck. Terry sighs as he begins another negotiation with the twins regarding how many toys they're allowed to bring into the tub.

He loses.

"So where to?" Gina asks as they walk away from Terry's house into the street. They've got their hands in their pockets because the night brings a chill that isn't helped by the fact that they were just soaked from head to toe in a no-holds-barred water pistol fight. But strangely, walking with her shoulders occasionally bumping against Rosa's as they take brisk steps towards Rosa's motorbike, Gina's never felt warmer.

"I'm taking you back home," Rosa says simply as she tightens the grip she has on her leather jacket, cursing herself for parking her bike so far away from Terry's house.

"Not the precinct? My car's still there."

"Just leave it there. I'll give you a ride to work tomorrow."

They had traveled to Terry's house together on Rosa's motorcycle in a hurry, because Cagney and Lacey's babysitter had a family emergency and couldn't wait for Terry to get home from work before leaving. But Gina didn't mind- riding on the back of Rosa's bike sent a rush through her as they sped down the streets of Brooklyn. And Gina had to admit she loved the experience of wrapping her arms around Rosa's waist, gripping tighter every time they turned a corner.

"That's nice and all, but why would you do that?" Gina asks as they finally spot Rosa's bike where they had hastily parked it before making their way to Terry's house. "You'd have to make the extra trip- are you in that much of a hurry to get home?"

Gina's worried that there's an 'Adrian Pimento'-sized reason why Rosa wants to hurry up and dump Gina at home. And that worry makes her stomach churn with jealousy; a feeling Gina's grown all too familiar with because of Rosa.

But then Rosa shakes her head. "It's fine. And I'm not in a hurry, I just don't want you going home by yourself this dark out. S'not safe." Rosa hands Gina her helmet, and she puts it on without question.

She kind of appreciates this protective side of Rosa. That jealousy of hers fades to dust, replaced with a nervous tingling that runs up and down her spine- plus something else hopeful and yearning, which Gina knows are dangerous feelings but she recklessly embraces them anyway. Because for once- they don't seem so stupid.

"You're such a cop, Rosie," Gina teases as they get on the sleek black motorbike. "Protecting innocent civilians like me."

She almost feels Rosa grin somehow, even though she can't see her face.

"Shut up," Rosa retorts almost as playfully as Gina had been, and then the engine hisses as they speed off into the night.  

Fifteen minutes of a deafening roar as Rosa's bike rips down the roads to Gina's apartment go by before fading to nothingness when they grind to a halt. This had been accompanied with another round of Gina's hands gripping Rosa's waist, inhaling the sweet scent of tangerines along with a piercing mint belonging to Rosa's brilliant curls of hair as the wind combed through it in gusts of freezing air.

"Thanks for the ride," Gina remarks carefully as she removes her helmet and hands it to Rosa. How she plays out the next few moments will be vital, possibly a watershed in their relationship.

"Sure," Rosa shrugs, and her eyes dart to Gina's apartment building. "Come on, I'll walk you up."

"Of course you are, we wouldn't want anything to happen to me- Ginazon would be lost without my guidance."

Rosa lets out a small, subdued laugh and it's enough to make Gina's heart sing with unbridled joy. Things seem to be going according to- well, Gina wouldn't call it a plan, but. She knows what she wants, and she has a feeling she's going to get it. And by it Gina means her. And by her Gina means Rosa. Duh.

As they make their way to the elevator Gina can't help but dwell happily upon how Rosa offered not only to send her home but also to walk her all the way back up to her apartment. Crime was down in Brooklyn, it wasn't nearly late enough for Gina to be in any sort of danger (for real though, Gina's returned home way later than this and she had been alone then), and in the first place- Gina's neighborhood was completely safe, as it had always been when Jake's grandmother lived there.

So Rosa going to all this trouble- it had to mean something, right? She was doing it all of her own accord too, and as they stepped into the enclosed steel walls Gina gathered the courage to make Rosa an offer.

"Hey- you wanna stay for a drink or something? We went through an ordeal back there."

Rosa offers a tired smile and lightly jabs her thumb at the lift button for Gina's floor.

"Yeah, okay." She even yawns and stretches her arms in fatigue. "Though those kids weren't so bad, I'd feel less exhausted chasing down criminals all over the city."

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Gina corrects as she secretly admires the way Rosa's body looks while she stretches. "Those twins are adorable and I want ten of them. The 'ordeal' I'm talking about is how the hell we both survived the past few hours without getting our drink on. We aren't usually sober this time of day."

"Damn, you're right." The elevator stops and a familiar ding coincides with the opening of the doors. Gina digs out her keys as they step out and frantically unlocks her door, Rosa snorting at her failed attempts.

Gina gets her front door open pretty quickly despite the initial setbacks, and Rosa steps in before her, stopping in place ten strides into the living room to take in the apartment that just screamed of Gina from every nook and cranny.

"Hey, so where do you keep-" Rosa's question is muffled as Gina slams her door shut and throws her keys on the counter, rushing forth to engulf her lips in a deep kiss.

Gina knows she's making a rather sudden move- but is it really so sudden? Rosa has been giving her signals all week, no, all month. A few months, at least.

She sees these looks Rosa shoots her when she thinks Gina's too busy looking at her phone to notice at work, and while that might be true, Gina is nothing if not a master of (secretly, when it comes to noticing Rosa) multitasking. She's half the reason the Nine-Nine runs as smoothly as it does- between all the shenanigans that are usually caused by Hitchcock and Scully, the occasional food accident Boyle will bring to the break room, or anything anyone else might've done that day- she's also helping Holt by being his assistant and the Civilian Administrator.

Damn, someone should give her a Nobel prize.

Anyway, point is- Gina can check her Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat simultaneously and still immediately realize whenever Rosa's looking at her. Sometimes it's official work reasons, like needing a case file, or needing to hand her an arrest report.

But other times, especially when Rosa has been running on just a few hours of sleep, three cups of coffee, and suffering from the effects of working for over ten hours- Gina would catch Rosa looking up at her, and she'd try to do something to make Rosa laugh. Play a prank on someone, like Charles for instance, or make fun of someone. Gina realized over time that Rosa laughs rather easily. When it came to stuff she did.

And there were times when Gina had been in danger. Or close to danger. Or demanding to enter a situation where she would've been in danger. She'd see this fear flash across Rosa's face and suddenly, Rosa could totally do this dangerous thing Gina volunteered to do as well as whatever she’d been assigned with. Or- someone else was more suited for this task and maybe Gina should do this other thing that'd coincidentally keep her out of trouble.

Any other person and Gina would've felt offended and fought even harder for her way- but with Rosa, she craved the way she protected her, sometimes even volunteered to do risky stuff on purpose to see that look on Rosa's face. That look that would never fail to send sparks flying through Gina.

Gina feels herself melt into Rosa's arms and almost smiles when she feels Rosa kiss back. She's almost proud when she runs her hands down Rosa's back and she shivers ever so slightly. Somewhere in the back of Gina's head, the word finally echoes and burns, and a storm of emotion hits Gina.

It's all the more shocking when Gina feels Rosa stop kissing her abruptly and shove her away. She knows the hurt in her eyes are evident, she sees it reflected in Rosa's pupils and pain turns to confusion which turns into agony. Her heart just got stepped on by a pair of Rosa's boots, and for all of Gina's talents- in that moment she's plenty sure she forgets how to breathe.

"Don't look at me like that," Rosa practically spits this out and Gina's stomach twists, she feels so empty; and this can't be happening- it was going great, Gina had kissed Rosa and she had kissed back. She had kissed back.

"Look at you like what?" Gina's voice sounds very pained, even though she's going for cold and aggressive. Her eyes are also burning, but she can't afford tears of any kind right now.

"You-" Rosa gulps and her throat bobs shakily. She seems to be just as affected as Gina is. Good. Suffer. "You know I have a boyfriend."

Why did you kiss me? Is Rosa's underlying question, and it isn't so much a question as it is an accusation. Gina rolls her eyes, because she knows as well as Rosa that her words are utter bull.

Boyfriend? No one's seen Adrian Pimento in months- Gina's very sure of that, he hasn't dropped by the precinct or Shaw's or anywhere, really. Definitely not since Gina's accident. But, not like Gina was keeping score or anything.

And Rosa hasn't said a word about Pimento in ages. Not a peep. Like the psycho never even existed, which was a thing that made Gina happy, if she were being honest.

Boyfriend?

Where was Rosa's boyfriend when she chose to spend all those nights after work hanging out with Gina at Shaw's, only occasionally joined by other members of the squad or some of Gina's friends? How many nights had Rosa chose to spend drunk off her ass with Gina, playing pool whilst Gina mostly watched because watching Rosa bend ever so sultrily over a table beat holding a stick of her own any other day?

And no, she was no longer talking about pool.

But seriously, boyfriend? If that were really true, Rosa was the worst girlfriend ever because she spent all her time hanging out with some other girl and as far as anyone around her was concerned, this boyfriend didn't exist.

Gina tells her as such.

"Boyfriend? The way he never shows up, I'd have thought he was dead."

She knows it's a low blow, and Gina knows it hurt because Rosa fixes her with a sharp glare.

"Shut up," Rosa swallows her words however, and Gina huffs sharply- they both give away how much they're hurting with each passing second.

"You never talk about him," Gina tells Rosa, and the way she averts her eyes lets Gina know that she knows this, was probably aware about this at some point. Rosa's a private person, but when she cares about someone she tends to mention them in conversations.

"And I never see him hanging out with you, you're always with me." Gina emphasizes this almost angrily, because somehow she feels cheated. Like all her feelings and the signs she saw were for nothing. She was just seeing what she wanted to see, and Rosa wanting Gina just as she wanted her was all just a big hallucination on her end. Gina feels her first tear fall. She wills herself to not let there be a second.

"We're... we're friends, Gina." Rosa weakly throws this out. "Friends hang out."

It's a flimsy excuse, and they both know it.

"Sure, but not like we do. Not as much as we do. You- you clearly prefer me over him."

"Don't say that." Rosa shakes her head, and that only makes what Gina said more true.

"What do you want me to say? That- that I'm sorry for kissing you? That I should've asked if you wanted to dump your boyfriend- who no one even sees these days- for me?"

Rosa gives up on the conversation, turns around to leave, but freezes when Gina grabs her by the hand. It's a desperate attempt but it appears to have worked.

Gina goes for an even more desperate, hinging on risky, move.

"Why'd you kiss back?"

And then Rosa Diaz bolts out of Gina's apartment like it had just caught fire and she needed to evacuate the building.

Gina's heart feels like it's on fire. And it’s not one that can be extinguished by the endless tears falling down her face right now as her knees give way and she leans with her back against the door; bawling so hard and so shrilling that Rosa would be able to hear if she was still close by. Gina hopes Rosa hears, and in the thousand imaginary scenarios she creates in her head, Rosa comes back and apologizes, kissing Gina and promising to break up with Pimento.

Rosa doesn’t come back, and Gina keeps sobbing her heart that she had laid out on the line, only to get it ripped to shreds.

She doesn't sleep that night, neither of them do.

As if by some unspoken arrangement after that, Gina and Rosa start treating each other like ghosts at the precinct.

They stop talking. Hanging out. They don't so much as look each other in the eye.

No one questions this of course, because most of their hang outs had been secret, and if anyone noticed something had changed between the two of them, they were too afraid to ask.

Gina wishes someone would ask.

Weeks fly by, and they keep ignoring each other. Gina takes to hanging out with Amy- in her head she's doing Amy a service- if Holt was Amy's work mentor, Gina feels like she's Amy's life mentor.

Rosa takes to hanging out with Jake, or working cases with Jake, and well, strangely, it worked in helping them keep apart.

They just make sure they back off when Jake decides he wants to look for Amy or Amy wants to talk to Jake, and it's the perfect set up to avoid each other.

In group situations, Gina makes sure never to respond to anything Rosa says, and as much as it hurts, she feels Rosa doing the same thing.

They're pulling away from each other.

During the party at Cop Con, they both get way too drunk and some of these rules slip away; Gina recalls flashes of a broken memory, dancing against the girl of her dreams as they do shot after shot and get more handsy while the night bleeds into day.

It's a good thing Gina wakes up first the next morning- sees her legs tangled with Rosa's. As tempting as it was to keep things that way she removes herself from Rosa's tight embrace and finds another bed in another room.

They stop laughing at each other's jokes and antics, maintaining either neutral expressions or downright scowling.

It's one of the hardest things Gina Linetti's ever had to do, and she got hit by a bus.

So far, this feels worse than that.