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tange-my-rine · 7 months

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find yourself (and me) || Tangerine x trans male!reader

Summary: You knew Tangerine well, you'd fallen in love with the guy. But when a mission goes wrong and you fake your death, he can't know a word of it. And when you finally transition after years of wishing, you can hardly even imagine running into him again. If you thought you might, you'd run the opposite way. But fate had different plans.

Request by @random-thoughts-004.

TW: mention of deadname (it's like your codename but like still), fake death, grief, blood, wounds, murder, guns, knives, scars, cursing (it's Tangerine), and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: Thanks for my first request !!! I hope I did it justice! Enjoy this slowburn and kinda angst riddled oneshot. Reader's first codename is Butterfly. Second is Beetle. (You work with Ladybug's agency.) ]]

The first time you met Tangerine was one of your first jobs ever. You remember it so well because well, the twins made it memorable. They made everything memorable, you'd come to realize but not now.

It was a gala, and you were dressed well -fancy even, with hair perfectly in place and shiny fabric cascading.

The job was an easy one, getting your feet wet and whatnot; not that you hadn't wanted the harder ones, it was just like a test run for your agency -seeing if you could do it. Which, with your experience, was kind of ridiculous but you didn't want to get into it right now.

All you needed was information from a man, some sort of billionaire -you weren't honestly sure. The location of someone else, his brother... cousin? You knew his name and that was all that mattered.

You finished your drink, and with a walk that could kill, you made your way to the floor. He was talking to some men (tall with bleached tips, and another one broad shoulders with a mustache), but you simply pushed yourself through.

His eyes, naturally, rested on you, and you used it toward your advantage.

"Hi," you smiled over the rim of your glass, fluttering your eyelashes for good measure, "-do you mind if I interrupt? I've been dying to talk to you all day."

The man, Richard you remembered, smiled smoothly, "'Course, honey. We can always pick up this conversation later."

With a glance toward the men, you pushed your arm into his and began walking away.

You had felt the eyes boring into your back at the time, but you didn't think anything of it. You probably should have, but to be fair this was a test run, was it not?

The man guided you to a balcony, empty with the night sky and stars twinkling. You would've thought it was pretty, if you didn't have an objective.

"Name's Richard," he spoke, still close by your side, "-what's yours, sweetheart?"

Swallowing the bile in your mouth (he really wasn't your type), you smirked -playfully, trailing your fingers onto his upper arm, "I prefer to be a mystery to the men I meet, Richard."

He grinned, it was working well, "I'm not the first then?"

The rest of your conversation was much of the same, low chats about things that didn't really matter -hobbies, jobs, etc. And when you casually mentioned family, it was smooth sailing.

"Got a cousin visiting one of my houses down in Miami, but I haven't seen the rest in years."

You weaseled out the name, and with a cunning smile, went to refill your drink. He'd said he'd have someone do it for you, but you said something about 'clingy already?' and his masculinity came in check.

Your job was done. You were 30 minutes from getting home, out of these heels, and watching your favorite show with the emptiness of your apartment. These kinds of crowds were exhausting, you needed it.

That was until hands shot out of a closet and pulled you in so fast you couldn't even scream-

"What the hell?"

The light was on, thank god, as you took in the man. He was broad shoulders from before, dressed in a fancy suit -three piece, with curly gelled back hair and blue eyes. Oh, and the mustache. He was your type.

You shimmied out of his grip, pushing yourself to the farthest wall, "What are you doing?! You can't just pull women into closets-"

"Who fuckin' sent you?" He uttered out, harsh and brash -british accent, your mind noted.

"Sent me?" You played dumb, "-This is a gala, I was invited, prick."

"Don't fuckin' lie to me," he hissed, pulling out a gun and suddenly, this was all very real.

"Jesus Christ," you raised your hands, "-why the hell does it matter?"

"You're after my hit," he clarified, like it was fact -pushing the gun further into your face.

"Yeah, no," you laughed, "-my job here was information. I literally just talked to him, if you paid any attention to your surroundings-"

"Awfully snappy for someone with a fuckin' gun in your face," he retorted, but you could tell that his frustration had significantly lessened.

"Shoot me then," you egged on, "-lose your cover, and your target, and shoot me."

His mouth flattened, eyes hardening, as the realization slipped over his features; you loved being right.

Gotcha.

With the speed of a snail, he lowered his gun -jaw muscle flexing. You could tell he was pissed that you were right. This was fun, you would've stayed all night to get on his nerves, if this dress didn't make you feel like your skin was peeling off.

In very different circumstances, you would've been glad to be trapped in a closet with him. But, we can't always get what we want, can we?

Without another word, you slipped out of the closet and made your way to the door. And when you got home you scrubbed your skin clean until the flowery scent of your perfume went away (it made you sick), but that was nobody's business but your own.

The second time you met him was very different. Your job was a hit, a CEO of some fancy business -you didn't really care. You'd posed as some meeting for him -after hours, it was actually really simple to get this guy alone.

Anyway, you had just shot a bullet through his head when the door came crashing open -easily, you switched targets.

Instead of some innocent, however, it was the man -still wearing a three piece suit and the same mustache. He wore it well though, so you couldn't blame him.

"Not you again," you groaned.

"What the hell are you doin' 'ere?" He replied eyes scrunched and eyebrow raised.

"My job?" You answered, still pointing the gun at him without hesitation.

He raised his hands, begrudgingly, and looked you over, "You 'ere for a hit?"

You kicked the body at your feet, sarcastically, "Ya think?"

His eyes flicked down to the man, before back up to you, "Lucky for you, I'm just 'ere for a drive. You let me go, we call it even?"

You pursed your lips, tilting your head to the side -thinking on it, "Fine, but if I see you again it's fair game."

"Can't fuckin' wait, love," he remarked, and you honestly weren't sure if it was all sarcasm. Huh.

"Butterfly," you said as an introduction.

He furrowed his brows for a moment before a wave of understanding crossed over his face, "Tangerine."

Needless to say, you left that building laughing your ass off.

The next time after that you met Lemon, and then suddenly you were a trio. You switched agencies and were constantly partnered for missions, and even when you weren't, they'd follow you and keep an eye out for you. Even when you told them that you could handle it, they still showed up (Lemon always blamed Tangerine).

You don't know when Tangerine started shifting in your head -from friend to... something else. A scary something else. But you think it started here.

You were in a safe house, one you'd crashed in a lot actually. An apartment in the city with three bedrooms and a fancy kitchen, you could picture it as a home if you thought about it long enough. Couldn't see it without Tangerine and Lemon anymore though.

It was late, and you were watching some late-night reruns of a show you'd never seen -it was some sort of love triangle, and you somehow already had a favorite actually. You couldn't sleep, it was just something in your head -nightmares. You had close calls before and tonight was one of them; you wanted to be alive a little bit longer because of it.

"Hey," the voice interrupted your haze, drawing your attention to your right.

It was Tangerine, he was wearing normal clothes -baggy sweatpants and a t-shirt with his hair ungelled (you were still getting used to it). Blue eyes flickered across you, he could read you really well -you hated it.

He didn't ask if you were okay, didn't have to he knew, just sat by your side on the couch -you offered him some blanket. He took it, closer into your side than he was before -it made your head spin just a little. You figured because you hadn't been so close to someone in so long.

Before you could stop yourself, you started talking, "You ever think about what your life would be like if we didn't do what we do?"

It was sleepy coming out of your mouth, slightly slurred, but still genuine. You always got a little talkative around him, you weren't sure entirely why.

Tangerine deflected, blue eyes fuzzy over your face (you weren't looking at him), "Do you?"

"Yeah," you muttered, low and quiet, "-all the time."

"What would you do?" he asked, and he was genuine -you could always tell when he wanted to listen.

"I think..." you started, trying to decide your words, "- I think I'd want to be married. Is that stupid?"

"'s not stupid, love," he spoke, soft with his gruff sleep voice.

"It'd be nice, I think," you hummed, perhaps saying too much but you didn't care then, "-forever with one person. With this job, you're always alone. Jumping from place to place, partner to partner. I think it'd be nice to have somebody who was always there."

Tangerine didn't say a word.

"The real question is if I'm marriable," you laughed, "-do you think I have enough positive characteristics for someone to marry me, Tan?"

It was kind of a joke, and you expected him to respond that way. He didn't.

"Yeah," he whispered, dead serious, "-I do."

You were taken aback a little bit, something unfurling in your chest that you hadn't quite named yet but you knew it now, "You think so?"

He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pulled you closer -your head settling on his shoulder without hesitation. You stayed that way for a few moments, breathing in his cologne and shampoo -he smelt so good, how?

"Someone would marry you," he finally responded -something there in his voice but you couldn't name it, "-'d be fuckin' stupid not to."

It was going great, really great. Until it wasn't.

You can't even remember the mission now, but it was one that the twins followed you in on. You convinced them to wait out in the car, you could handle this.

And while you were, your earcon went off -static voice in your ear. You had to strain to hear it, but once you did, you wished you hadn't. It was Maria, your previous handler -you had no idea how she got your connection, actually. It didn't matter then, the voice echoing through your head.

"Butterfly, listen to me, you have to get out of there."

"Maria?" you questioned, slamming a guy's head into a wall, "-'Would love to catch up but I'm a little busy right now-"

"Butterfly, listen. You are in danger."

"Aren't I always?" you laughed, sliding a blade across another guy's neck -he sunk to the floor.

"I got intel on a manhunt for you, the White Death is looking for you. You are not safe, listen to me."

You stalled in place, your heart dropping to your stomach, breathless, "What?"

"He's been surveying your safe house. He knows what job you're on, you have to get out of there now."

One of them rushed you from behind, you promptly elbowed his throat and he let you go -you spun on your heel and shot him square in the head. It was on instinct, your brain was running a thousand miles a minute.

"I can't hide from a guy like him, Maria," you spoke, a sort of shake in your tone, "-he'll find me. He'll find the twins-"

"Listen to me," she repeated, "-we have a plan, but it's not going to be easy."

"Yeah," you sighed, "-okay. I've got nothing to lose, right?"

"There's a car on the westside of the building, you need to head that way and-"

"Maria," you thought of the twins, "-I already have a ride."

"I want you to listen to me very carefully, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"Jesus," you laughed, "-have a little faith in me-"

"Butterfly, you are not making it out of this building alive."

"I am," you replied, "-I don't know what you're thinking but I'm perfectly capable."

"You, Butterfly, are not making it out of this building alive. Are you listening?"

"I don't-"

"As far as anyone knows, you are dead. As far as the White Death knows, you are dead."

"Oh," you responded, softly, "-this is... I'm... What about the twins?"

"They can't know. The White Death will be surveying them for months after, if they don't play the part-"

"They would," you ushered out, tears burning at the backs of your eyes, "-they... They could not see me for awhile but they would know-"

"I'm sorry, but if you're actually going to stay alive, they can't know. The White Death is smart, he knows how close the three of you are. If they know, he'll know."

"Please," you whispered, you felt like you couldn't breathe, "-without them... You don't know what it'll put them through, Maria, I can't-"

"I'm sorry."

Tears fell before you could stop them, heavy and your throat felt like it was closing up (good god, you couldn't breathe). You stumbled to the window, eyes catching on the car that waited for you by the entrance -if you squinted you could see them, you just wanted to see them again. Even if it was the last time-

"Butterfly, breathe, I need you to focus, okay? For them and you."

"Will you tell them first, before... before anyone else? They deserve to-" your voice cracked, "-They deserve to know first."

"Of course."

You swallowed, gasping for a breath and desperately wiping at your eyes -it felt like you were suffocating. Even still, you righted yourself -for the twins.

"What do you need from me?"

"Leave your phone and something they would know you wouldn't leave behind. They have to... They have to believe it."

With a shaky breath, you threw your phone to the floor -it cracked, but you didn't care. You scanned over yourself, digging into your pockets for something -anything. And then you remembered, the scratching on the fabric -it was your bracelet.

It was a gift from the twins, a simple charm bracelet with one single charm: a butterfly.

You remembered when they gave it to you, you promising to keep it on every day. It was the best gift you'd ever been given-

Hands shaking, you unclasped it -watching as it clattered to the ground, butterfly looking up at you. With another breath, you pulled your knife out of your pocket -three initials carved into the handle. Something in you cracked then as you looked at it, a little shrine to you -this is what they'd see. When they were told you were dead, they'd see this. That was... That was it.

You couldn't stay here anymore.

"Maria," you swallowed, blinking back as many tears as you could, "-where's the car?"

The next 4 years were a lot. You'd finally become yourself, a man, and you lived out in a small little cabin in the woods. You lived next to a teeny-tiny town where everyone knew each other, and you made your life there.

It was a sunny day when a car pulled up to your home -a fancy, expensive one. You knew it well, it dropped you off here all that time ago. Maria.

She smiled when she saw you, skimming over you -she knew about the transition but she hadn't seen you since before, "You look good, happier."

"Thanks," you smiled, leading her into your home. She was well aware of your home, every few years, she visited. Told you things, about the twins -their successes, their failures. They were infamous now. Sometimes it felt like you were there again, you could close your eyes and smell Tangerine's cologne and see Lemon's smile-

"I have some news," Maria started leaning against your countertop -she was always so rigid, all business.

"Yeah?" you smiled, "-What did they do now?"

"The White Death is dead," she spoke -frank and direct.

Something in your shoulders lifted, tears burning the back of your eyes -it had been so long, "Did they...?"

You knew very little about what she told them then, but you do know it had to do with the White Death. You knew they'd try and avenge you one day, it was just in their blood. You hoped they had peace now.

"A few people did," she clarified, "-remember the bullet train I talked about last week?"

"Yeah, you had Ladybug on that one, right?" you asked, you knew of the guy -never met him.

"The twins were there," she hummed, "-Turned out to be planned by him. He was going to kill them all by the end of the line."

"But they survived?" you asked.

"They did," she assured, before pausing for a moment, "-I'm here to ask you something."

You pursed your lips, something catching in your chest, "I can't see them, Maria-"

"That's not-" she started, before clearing her throat, "-I want to ask if you want back in."

"Into... work again?" You asked, curious.

"Yes," she said, laying it all out, "-We have a spot open, you'd be under me. We can start out with small jobs-"

"Isn't this what we planned? All that time ago?"

"We did," Maria confirmed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, "-but, you've been here so long. Your plans can change, you know. You could live a normal life."

You thought back to that conversation that late night with Tangerine. You had wanted it then. At the time, you didn't know who you wanted it with but now... you did. And that... that wasn't happening.

But going back to work, that was familiar, that felt normal. You'd be yourself again. You hadn't felt that way fully since that day, but you could achieve it now. Mostly.

"Okay," you responded, "-I'm in."

That is what brought you here in some office building for a drive under the name, Beetle. Well, you weren't alone. A couple of months ago, you'd been at a meeting of the agency -Maria had requested you come. You'd said something a little bit snappy and from the back, a guy with blonde hair, glasses, and a huge smile, had yelled, "I like this guy!"

That was your introduction to Ladybug, and he'd immediately requested to be your partner to Maria. He even threw in some 'pretty-please's, you'd laughed really hard that day -you hadn't in a long time. And with a little hope of some normalcy, you agreed.

Now this was pretty run of the mill, you'd worked with Ladybug to know most of his quirks -like forgetting literally everything as soon as you stepped into the building, and not wanting to kill people on Wednesdays ('My therapist says I need to start taking care of myself, this is me doing that, Beetle.').

"Listen," you turned to him, "-just keep the guy distracted, I will find the drive."

"Hey," he mumbled, eating some kind of finger food, "-Aren't we supposed to be a team? What was it that Maria said-"

"Ladybug," you sighed, he could really annoy you, "-firstly, you know she never says anything in your favor-" he nodded at that in agreement, "-secondly, do you even remember what you had for breakfast this morning?"

He paused, squinting his eyes.

"Exactly," you pointed out, "-so I will go find the drive, and you go... mingle."

"I don't wanna mingle," he nearly whined, "-I should've retired after the bullet train."

You froze for a moment, at the mention, before coming back down to earth, "You can do that after we do this, yeah?"

"Oh," he waved his hand with a grin, "-you know I could never leave you, Beetle."

You smiled then, "I know. Now, go, seriously-"

"Yeah, alright," he swatted you, "I'm going-"

With that, you slipped over to the elevator -squeezing past a few stray people and pressing the top floor. Luckily, it was some sort of company party, so every office was unattended. You, yourself, needed the top office, so out of respect for your knees -you'd decided to use the elevator.

You would later wildly regret this decision.

Around the fifth floor, it stopped. You fully prepped yourself for some stray office worker, probably holding a two-liter to bring downstairs and the awkward conversation that would ensue. Instead, it was much, much worse.

Because in front of that door stood Lemon, tips still bleached and dressed in a casual suit -the same kind he always used to wear. Your heart was in your throat, so you casually arranged your tie -trying not to let your voice come out squeaky.

"What floor?" You offered.

He didn't say a word, was just staring for a moment -brown eyes solid on you like he was reading you. You knew you looked different, and even sounded different but you still thought maybe-

"Seventh, thank you," he smiled, sauntering up to your side.

You smiled with a nod, and pressed the button.

The silence was unbearable, and you were certainly going to give Maria an earful when you got back because this. Was. Not. Supposed. To. Happen.

That was literally your one clause for this work-

"Do I know you?" Lemon asked, looking at you questioningly, "-I feel like I've seen you somewhere before. You're so familiar-"

Your tongue was quicker than your brain, "I'm Carl, Mr. Madison's assistant?"

He pursed his lips, like he was trying to believe it.

"I work on the third floor, mostly," you lied through your teeth -it was just keeping cover, "-maybe you saw me there?"

"Yeah," he settled, still eyeing you weirdly, "-probably."

The rest of the ride was silent, just before he stepped off, "Carl, if ya see an uptight guy in a suit with a mustache, tell 'im I'm on seventh, will ya?"

You instinctively nodded, and as the doors slipped shut -your brain started screaming. Of course, Tangerine was here. God, you could handle Lemon, but-

You pressed your com on, hissing out, "Maria-"

"Yeah, Beetle, what's going on? Everything okay?"

"The twins are here," you spoke -tone wavering, your breaths felt shallow like you weren't getting enough no matter how hard you tried.

"Oh shit."

"Wow," you came back to earth for a moment, "-that's the first time I've heard you lose your cool. Too bad I'm losing my mind-"

"Beetle, listen to me, okay? They don't know who you are. You look different, you sound different."

"I know," you let a breath out, "-I just. I never wanted to see them again. I don't... I don't deserve to."

"Beetle, we've talked about this."

"I know," you took a breath in, "-I know. It's just a lot."

"Is Ladybug there with you?"

"No," you spoke, like it was obvious, "-he can hardly remember his name sometimes, Maria-"

"I'll tell him there's an emergency. Send him up to you."

"But there isn't?" You countered, hand slipping up to run through your hair.

"If the twins are there for the same thing, there's about to be."

With that, you were on the top floor. You kept your eyes peeled -fancy shoes clopping along the tile. You'd always wanted a pair, but now you felt like a prick, honestly.

You figured if Tangerine was anywhere he was here, or shuffled into the party. That was if you had the same motivation.

Which was probably your best bet.

Somehow, you made it to the office in one piece. No peering blue eyes anywhere or accents melting into your ears, you were alone. Huh, maybe you were lucky.

You shuffled through some drawers, scattering paperwork and knocking a tin of paperclips over. It really didn't matter, the man would notice the USB gone anyway so no need for it to look like someone hadn't stolen it. With the drawers, you came up empty-handed.

You pursed your lips, before brushing your fingers along the top shelf of the bookshelf, maybe it was hidden? Nope.

You spun on your toes, before your eyes landed on the laptop. It was literally plugged into his laptop, out in the open.

"Idiots," you mumbled, before pocketing it with the slip of your hand.

Ready to go and fetch Ladybug, your job was done-

"Give me the fuckin' drive," his voice bounced around your head, and you very nearly cracked your neck spinning around to see him.

The first thing was the gun in your face, which was familiar, actually.

You raised your hands in surrender, instinctively muttering, "Jesus Christ."

He stalled for a minute when his eyes met your face like he was processing something -you thought out of anyone he would recognize you. The gun faltered in his hand as his eyebrows crept together into a furrow, confused.

You washed over him too, his hair was slightly longer and he was stronger -you could tell. His mustache was the same, and the suit too, just tighter. But along his neck, right at the collarbone was a nasty scar -it was new, fresh, you could tell. A couple of months at most.

"Look, I'm just Mr. Madison's assistant," you started, your voice shaking but it actually helped you here, "-I don't know what you're talking about."

"Do you think I'm fuckin' stupid?" He countered, frustrated again, but there was still something skewed in his face, "-I saw you slip it in your pocket."

"Right," you swallowed, "-glass doors."

He leaned forward, the gun doing the same. And you heard the jingle of his necklace, the one he always wore -something from his childhood he said, but there was another sound, another noise. Before you could think any better, your eyes dipped to it.

The butterfly charm.

Your heart stalled in your chest.

He had the butterfly charm, your butterfly charm, around his neck. The silver was stark against the gold, so you really couldn't have missed it -how long has he been wearing that?

A sob trickled up the back of your throat, but you held it back -blinking away tears.

"Look," you echoed, voice heavy with wear -you wouldn't cry, not now, "-we can work this out."

"I said," he stepped forward, and you could smell his cologne -it was still the same, "-give me the fuckin' drive."

You didn't move.

"Do you want a fuckin' bullet in your head, love?" He asked, his face getting redder, but there was still something in his eyes -he was hesitating. He never hesitates.

Not... not at work. He pulls the trigger and is done but he's hesitating-

Your heart pounding in your chest, you stood your ground -digging your heels in, "Shoot me. You can take it off my corpse, just shoot me."

Tangerine frowned, something in his face flickering between your eyes -you knew he saw you, but you didn't know how he did. Did he think it was just a coincidence? Did he know? Did he think he was hallucinating?

He opened his mouth, but before he could say a word -Lemon walked in with a gun pressed to his temple. Your eyes caught on Ladybug's and he visibly seemed to relax at the sight of you breathing.

"For old times sake," he spoke, "-you give me my guy, I give you yours."

"You almost fuckin' killed me," Tangerine seethed through his teeth, "-why should I 'ave any leniency?"

Oh, you thought, that scar was from Ladybug?

"He's got a point 'ere," Lemon replied, rather plainly. You wanted to laugh.

Ladybug paused, "I said I was sorry, I thought we were past that, guys! We killed the White Death together, remember?"

Both of them froze, tense and lips twitching. Was that... Was that because of you?

"Oh, right, sorry," Ladybug recanted, "-sensitive subject."

It was. Something in your chest panged, you'd never thought you'd see it firsthand. You never wanted to-

You stopped the train of thought, hissing to Ladybug, "You are not helping here, you know that?"

"I'm trying my best," he practically whined back, "-you try reasoning with these guys! It's like talking to two brick walls-"

"Ladybug," you chastised.

"Right, sorry," he repeated.

You sighed, leveling to look at them, "Look, I'll give you guys the drive, okay? Just let us go. I'll get him out of here."

Tangerine softened just a smidge -blue eyes matching yours, you may have looked different but your eyes stayed the same. You knew that, and you hoped somewhere in him, he recognized them or they reminded him or anything-

Because if they didn't, you weren't making it out of here alive.

Wordlessly, Tangerine put his gun down and held out his hand. So he did see it.

Ladybug's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, he was clearly not expecting him to relent. But then again, you weren't either.

You pulled it from your pocket, dropping it into his open hand -careful not to touch him, you couldn't do that to yourself.

"Ladybug," you spoke, motioning for him to follow, "-Let's go. We'll tell Maria on the way."

He did as such, giving the gun back to Lemon, and slowly following you out of the door -back turned to the outside, keeping watch.

"Did you-" Tangerine interrupted, stalling the two of you in your path -your heartbeat quickened in your chest, as he turned to look at you, only you, "-Did you know Butterfly?"

"Everyone knows Butterfly," Ladybug responded, "-she's a legend, even for our agency."

He didn't react to his response, only solidly looking at you, Lemon too. You felt like every move you made was outing you, revealing you. That they would realize and hate you and never understand-

"I never knew her personally," you answered, swallowing, "-Just... Just stories."

And with that, you spun on your heel and walked out the door -Ladybug following dutifully behind. You felt their eyes on you every step until you turned back around in the elevator.

You didn't do a job for quite awhile after that. Ladybug, following your lead, took a break too -said something about meditating. You didn't listen, you couldn't.

All you could see was that charm hanging on his necklace -right next to his heart. Did Lemon have your knife? Did they split them?

The next few months were boring, Maria kept calling you and you kept telling her you were okay, you just needed some time. She even sent Ladybug on you a couple of times, but even he could tell you weren't at your best. He just kept recommending things his therapist said, you appreciated it, really, even though it didn't help at all.

When you finally got back to work, Maria sent you as a solo -Ladybug was something you had to limit after a while. All you had to do was get a package before it was delivered, simple.

You didn't know why god seemed to hate you.

You were posed as a delivery truck driver, you even had the truck, the outfit, and the lift. It was something you genuinely enjoyed and everything should've gone perfectly.

It should have been as easy as walking in and walking back out.

That was not the case.

You arrived at the hotel lobby, dressed in the uniform and smiling at the front desk. Politely asking for the boxes you needed, something about office supplies or pillows or something. The hotel had too much of it. All you had to do, was get the package and sneak it in with the others.

"Can I run to your bathroom?" You asked with a smile -you had to get out of the lobby somehow.

"Of course," she smiled, bright and beautiful, "-There's one down that hallway and to the right."

You followed those directions, and then decisively took off into the bathroom -despite it not being a part of the plan. Somewhere in the back of your head, you noted that someone was definitely following you. It was a shadow in the back of your eye, but you still saw it.

So when the door opened behind you, you raised your fist and-

Stopped.

Tangerine stood there, eyes wide as your fist was mere inches from his face. He was wearing a coat, maybe like a trenchcoat, that was brown and gave his whole outfit something entirely different.

"What the hell?" You hissed out, lowering your fist, "-What are you doing here? Following me?"

Tangerine seemed to pause for a moment, before wiping his hand over his mouth, "I'm stayin' 'ere, saw ya out in the lobby. This isn't... It's not a job. I'm not 'ere to... to hurt you."

"Did you just want to say hi?!" You asked, sarcastically -this could not be happening again, "-Last time I saw you, you had a gun pointed at my head. Forgive me for being afraid."

He licked his lips, and you noticed it then, something was very off. He wasn't angry, no, he looked exhausted like he hadn't slept in days; his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. Had he been crying?

"Um," you started, trying to act normal, "-is everything okay...?"

"Tangerine," he finished for you.

"Beetle," you offered in response, before repeating, "-Seriously, is everything okay? Should I call your... your partner?"

"You knew 'er," he interrupted, voice worn.

"Knew who?" You questioned, squeezing your nails into your palm -you knew where this was going.

"Butterfly," he clarified, "-you fuckin' knew 'er, you had to."

"Look, Tangerine," you replied, "-I already told you-"

He interrupted you again, quietly letting out a wet sort of chuckle, "You even say it like 'er."

"Say what?"

"My name," he bit at his lip, gnawing at it, really, "-you say it the exact same way, and I... I fuckin' remember that, so you knew 'er."

You were speechless for a moment, before settling yourself -trying to stay away from this, "Do... Do you need to talk for a minute? Or?"

"Are you 'er brother?" He asked, something heavy in his gaze, "-It's the only solution I can think of, and it's drivin' me fuckin' mad. I have to know-"

"Why would I say I don't know her if I'm her brother?"

"I don't fuckin' know," he breathed out, hands running through his hair, "-are you afraid of the White Death? What he... he did to 'er? He's dead, very dead. You can say you know 'er-"

"But, I don't," you offered, a little weaker.

"You do," he replied simply, "-you fuckin' 'ave to, you look just like 'er. You can't- I can't... Just tell me the truth."

"I'm not her brother," you repeated, it was the only thing you could say.

"Did she ever say anythin' about me? About... About Lemon?" He continued, his voice scratchy and eyes blinking so fast you knew he was holding back tears -your stomach churned.

"Tangerine," you sighed out, "-I don't know what to-"

He interrupted you again, hand pulling on his necklace, the charm, "'s hers, you were starin' at it the other day. 'Was her bracelet, but I think ya know 'at."

"Look," you swallowed, heavily, "-I can't do this now, I'm on a job. We can talk later, though, if you need to."

You ended up finding the box in ten minutes and leaving without another word.

By the time, you were ready for missions again -you were half convinced you wanted to just go back to the cabin, and live your life there. Away from mustaches and feelings and fear, you could enjoy yourself -listen to birds, observe nature, even.

Maria even offered it, after the last trip, she'd smiled at you in the solemn way she did and offered you the home back, the life back.

You thoroughly debated it for a few days but wanted to feel like yourself again and this was the closest you'd get, ever.

You loved him, and this was the closest thing you'd get to him. It was all you had.

Even if he did love you, you were... different now and you couldn't imagine that would be okay with him. You didn't let yourself.

The next time you saw the twins, you decided to embrace it -try and be as close as you could. If they figured it out and left you in the dust, so be it. You wanted them in your life.

It was another solo mission, Ladybug was in one of those 'I'm going to quit and move to Costa Rico' phases of his career and you didn't exactly want to cozy up with anybody else.

Maria understood, and sent you alone.

It was a hit, some guy with a big life insurance policy -his wife hired you, apparently. He was a loner, and didn't go much of anywhere, so you were to stage a robbery and simply kill him in the kerfuffle. Or, at least make it look like that.

The job was so easy that you'd taken to the city afterward -you wanted to live a normal life for a minute, and after it all, you ended up in a bar. A sort of quiet one with a wooden bar and dim lights -the only people in there being men watching football games, and even they did say much of a word.

It was calm, peaceful.

You heard the door jingle, you knew the sound but assumed it was a normal person -sipping on your drink in your booth alone, away from prying eyes. You didn't exactly want any company, not really, but you ended up with some.

The steps of fancy shoes, it was ingrained in your brain, only getting louder -you thought maybe someone was going to sit close to you. Until they abruptly stopped at your side, you promptly turned your head -eyes peering over your drink.

Tangerine stood there in much better shape, blue eyes focused gently onto you (not red and puffy) and hair perfectly gelled back. He was wearing the blue suit that matched his eyes really well -you'd told him it was his best one once.

"Tangerine," you hummed, sipping your drink, "-weird seeing you here."

He paused, eyes flicking over you for a moment -maybe taking in your outfit, just the same as you did. Before muttering out, "'Ere's a safe house nearby, me and Lemon are stayin' 'ere."

You knew that one, the three of you stayed there a couple of times but then again, where hadn't the three of you stayed?

You pondered over that for a moment, before speaking, "You can sit down, you know, I won't bite."

He seemed to tense up.

"Unless you do," you clarified with a bit of a smile, "-in which I retract my statement."

His lips quirked for a second, as he slid into the booth across from you, "'M off the clock."

"Ah," you nodded your head, "-lucky for you, me too."

"Lucky for me?" He asked, it all seemed so natural -you knew he'd ask questions about it later.

"I'm a good fight," you shrugged, "-what can I say?"

"I imagine," he laughed, and something in your chest swirled -you missed that.

He sat in silence for a moment, tapping his fingers against the table, as you messed with the napkin you had. It wasn't uncomfortable, not really, (you didn't think it would ever be) but there was still something hanging over the two of you.

"Look," he said, suddenly, "-about the other day. I'm sorry, I was... I was in a really bad fuckin' place. Just brought up some memories... I didn't mean to-"

"Relax, Tangerine," you sighed, something bubbling up your throat, "-I know what it feels like when you've seen a ghost."

Something in you twisted, tired, and thinking you were lying. God, you were lying to him. But you couldn't chance losing him again, you didn't want him to hate you. Force himself out of your life, his choice.

Not yours. It was selfish, you knew that much.

"They treat ya well?" He asked, and you tilted your head, "-Your agency? I had a friend... switched over, so..."

"Very well," you hummed, "-My handler is... she understands my breaks."

"You had a break?"

"Long time ago," you spoke, vaguely -you couldn't be specific, "-stayed in a cabin, lived normal for awhile."

He leaned back into the booth, something in him curious, you could see it, "How was it?"

"Boring," you decided.

"Yeah," he murmured, "-always thought it fuckin' would be."

You took a leap then, even if the answer would hurt. You wanted to know.

"You ever thought about it?"

"Bein' normal?" He clarified -eyes smooth over your face.

You nodded, finishing your drink -he seemed to notice, and you half thought he'd offer you to get another.

"Yeah," he breathed out -not matching your eyes now, something heavy on his shoulders, "-once a long fuckin' time ago. But... things change."

You wondered if it was because of you -that one night. If he wanted that with you-

He wouldn't anymore, your mind chimed -stinging under your skin, you are different. So is he.

Timing would never be right, it made your lips snap shut anytime you thought of telling him. The idea that he had loved you then, and now... now he wouldn't. That was worse than him hating you for life, just not... just not loving you anymore.

You swallowed, thick -you wanted to know more, but you couldn't just say that, "That they do."

He paused for a moment, before sliding out of the booth, "I 've to go, Lemon's waitin' on me."

You nodded your head, toying with your glass -eyes slinking across the rim, something in you disappointed. Something in you wanted him to stay, but that wasn't going to happen. You couldn't have him.

Not now.

"Beetle," he spoke, slow and measured, "-'S nice talkin' to ya. Maybe we can catch up again when we aren't at each other's fuckin' throats, yeah?"

"Yeah," you agreed, the tips of your mouth turning up just a little, "-I'd be alright with that."

You started seeing Tangerine every once in a while, strange little cafés and dimly lit bars. You didn't know how he always ended up in the area with you or close by, but it felt familiar. Like when the two of them would follow you into jobs, even when you said you'd be fine because they wanted you to be okay. Just in case. You supposed now that they actually had something to worry about.

That led you to now, you laid on the tile of a building -head pounding and the lights blinding. You had successfully cleared it and killed your hit, but someone had snuck up on you -gun drawn, they took a cheap shot.

"Maria," you breathed out, "-Maria, come in."

"Beetle? Everything alright?"

"They got a cheap shot in-" you hummed, "-I think in my chest? It hurts to breathe-"

"Okay, alright. I'll see who's around you, okay?"

"I think I can walk-"

"Don't move, keep your hands on the wound. What floor are you on?"

"Second," you faltered out a breath -a sting in your lungs, even still you shifted putting all your weight on your hands, "-shit, never get used to that."

"Never will."

You laughed, leaning your head back down against the tile -it was cold against your skin. You felt like you were burning alive, so it was actually a little refreshing.

The lights above you hurt your eyes, but it was easier to breathe this way. Inhale, exhale -a sting, inhale, exhale -a sting.

You imagined for a second this was years ago, that you were actually dying then. The twins would come rushing in, burst through the doors, and Lemon would be darting all over you -trying to figure it out. And Tangerine... Tangerine would grab your face and keep you awake -soft words but every once in a while shaking you to keep you awake. You wouldn't have been able to die then, not with them there -trying to help. You supposed you could die now, bleed out on a tile floor alone or with someone you didn't even know.

This dream of it being Tangerine and Lemon, that was something you could live for -you could almost see it in your head.

And then you heard it, a door busting open and fancy shoes clattering down the hallway -like yours that made you feel like a prick. You wondered if you got the idea of them from Tangerine, he surely owned so many pairs-

"Shit," there was a voice then, and your eyes snapped to the source.

Oh, I'm definitely hallucinating.

Tangerine stood over you before falling to his knees, mumbling -frustrated, "I just fuckin' knew it was you."

"Am I..." you spoke, breathlessly, "-Am I hallucinating?"

"What do you think I am? A fuckin' angel?" Something in your mind answered yes, "-Hate to break it to you, love, but it's just me."

"How the hell were you around here?"

"A job," he said, a little too quickly -it was suspicious.

"Lying-" you slurred out, "-I can tell you're lying."

Tangerine didn't say anything in response, ignoring it, "'S your chest, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, "-where I'm holding."

"Alright," he breathed out, "-alright. Don't stop holdin' it, okay? Keep your hand 'ere."

"How am I gonna move?"

He rolled his eyes, "Can't give me an inch of fuckin' trust, can ya?"

"Sure, I can," you breathed out, flinching slightly, "-just tell me your plan."

He let out a chuckle, before without warning -slipping his arms under your knees and back. The movement jostled you a little and it hurt -you hissed out.

"Sorry, love," he echoed out, softer than you expected, "-'s the only way to get ya out of 'ere."

"I know," you exhaled, "-I know. Keep going."

It felt like you hadn't even blinked before he was pattering out of the building -he was going so fast. Your head was spinning now, but you were still conscious.

"Shit," you heard Lemon, as Tangerine slipped you into the backseat, laying you across the seats -head first, "-a bullet?"

"Fucking cheap shot," you breathed out, "-Killed a whole building full of people and some asshole came up behind me and shot me-"

Lemon seemed to laugh slightly at your frustration; it made you feel a little lighter.

Tangerine shut the door and you waited for him to slip into the passenger seat. You were getting tired, you just wanted to bandage it up and go to whatever hotel was open.

Instead, Tangerine slipped into the side with your head -carefully lifting it and setting you back down onto his lap. You froze -his cologne surrounding your head so much it made you woozy. Why had he done that?

"Stay awake, yeah?" He spoke, breaths raggedy -he really must've been going fast, "Beetle, do you hear me?"

"Yeah, yeah," you swallowed, the smooth cushion of his suit pants was tempting, but the situation you currently were in kept you awake. Your heart was pounding, your brain spinning, you were so close.

You'd been closer, but that was over 4 years ago. Even further when his hands made their way to your face and hair -trying to keep you awake. It worked very, very well.

Had he ever held your face before?

Something in you said no, but it could've happened. You were also so close and any time you got injured he'd always wanted to see it for himself. He usually refused to leave until he took care of it himself, with gentle hands. Whose to say you hadn't gotten a cut on your face?

Why did it feel so different now?

You looked up at him, just for a spare second -you saw his hand run through his hair, unveiling the curls by the second. You'd always liked his curls, when he'd shown you his natural hair -it was all soft and bouncy. It wasn't good for his image, you totally understood.

He's nervous, your mind chimed, does he care about you like this too?

You slapped away the thought and decidedly started staring up at the plush ceiling -this car was definitely expensive, you knew that much. The cushion on the seats, the detailing, the roof, the speed-

This thing had to be stolen.

"Ya alright, love?"

You swallowed and met his eyes, big blue blinking down at you and you could see it, the concern. Since when was he concerned for you? This you? Something had changed at some point and you didn't even notice.

"I've been shot," you retorted, obviously, "-I'm currently bleeding out on your fancy seats."

"That's not-" he huffed out, pinching the bridge of his nose -you couldn't hold back the grin on your lips.

Lemon laughed from the front, "'Give 'im a real run for his money, you know 'at, Beetle?"

"I try my best."

Lemon laughed again, and something in your chest felt lighter -you had missed them, so much. All those years at that fucking cabin, you had missed out on them, on knowing them, watching them, being with them.

God, you regretted everything then, but it was for the best. It kept them safe.

"Seriously," his voice was lower now but still so pointed, "-are you alright?"

You blinked away the fog of tears in your eyes, not now, and nodded, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright."

The ride was short after that, it was wordless. Even though you think Tangerine wanted to say more, he didn't pry. Which you thought was very strange because he's Tangerine (he prods and pokes until you're set on murdering him) but you were literally bleeding out, so maybe it was courtesy.

You didn't have the heart to think it was anything else.

The twins brought you up the stairs, each taking a shoulder, and although it wasn't as dizzying as before when Tangerine had physically held you... It still was overwhelming.

These guys were like your family. You hadn't been this close to them in years.

"Alright, I'm assumin' you got the wounds?" Lemon asked, directed at Tangerine.

With a succinct nod, Lemon spun back around in the doorway -talking as he walked out, "'M off to get some food, don't bite each other's heads off, yeah? I'd hate to clean up the mess, personally-"

And then he was gone. You were currently sitting on a stool, hand still pressed intently into your chest, as Tangerine gathered up what medical supplies they had. Which was a lot, actually.

You spoke before you could think about it, "You know I can do this myself, right?"

"God, you've got quite the fuckin' head, don't ya?"

"You're one to talk," you replied.

Tangerine pursed his lips, in a way you could tell he was hiding a smile, before his eyes drifted to the ground for a moment. He didn't respond immediately, thinking on it.

And even when he brought everything onto the counter, he didn't say anything. It wasn't until he stood in front of you, nearly in between your legs as you sat on the stool.

"Just let me help you, yeah?"

Your eyes flickered over him, trying to read him but all you could get was -please. Almost like a desperation to help you, like he'd wanted to do this not just offering it-

"Yeah, okay," you responded softly.

"Shirt off," he quickly spoke -right to business, reaching over to the counter to grab what he needed.

You swallowed, you still weren't used to that. Taking your shirt off in front of people, off the top of your head you couldn't think of anyone who had seen your scars. Your top surgery scars. They were very obvious, right in the middle of your chest, and unavoidable. Did you want him to see them?

"Can't I just..." you started, "-unbutton the bottom?"

Tangerine turned back to you then, furrowing his eyebrows, "The gunshots in the middle of your chest, love, it'd be fuckin' half on anyway. Just take it off."

You frowned.

"No judgment here," he put his hands in the air, "-I couldn't care fuckin' less what your chest looks like, personally."

You licked your teeth and swallowed, before unbuttoning the dress shirt, slowly, but keeping it solidly on your shoulders. Kind of like how the men in cologne ads looked, with their opened-up shirts and the epitome of masculinity-

He didn't say a word, but you saw his eyes flicker over them -almost like he was noting it in his head before he switched his attention to the wound. He promptly dabbed it with an alcohol soaked cotton ball, and you nearly bit through your lip.

"Warn a guy, will you?"

Tangerine didn't even look up, "If that hurt, you're gonna have a fuckin' problem later, love."

"I've been stitched up before," you clarified, "-I'm not a newbie."

"Might as well be, yeah?" He hummed, tossing the cotton ball in the trash -flawlessly making it in (how does he even exist?), "-With your break."

"How do you know it was a long one?"

"I've never fuckin' heard of you," Tangerine explained, "-Ladybug's never heard of you and you're a part of his agency-" he dabbed another one over your wound, "-Must've been a long break."

He had a good point.

"Why are you so interested anyway?" You asked, quirking a brow, "-Plus, there are other agencies, how do you know I didn't come from one of them?"

"You're too good to 'ave," he replied, simply.

You fell silent, something stirring in your stomach -was that the first time he'd ever complimented you? Beetle you? Huh.

"Wow," you hummed, "-you can be nice. Who knew?"

"You're soundin' like fuckin' Lemon now," he groaned, before taking the needle from the counter.

"Lemon's smart then," you diverted your eyes -never could stand looking at being stitched up.

Tangerine rolled his eyes, and you looked back up to the ceiling -a smile ghosting onto your lips. Not that you'd ever let him see.

It went fairly smoothly, his hands made quick work of it and even quicker with the wound on your back (the bullet had gone right through your chest, luckily not hitting anything). Nothing happened, you were worried about nothing. He was Tangerine-

Just as you had started buttoning your shirt back up (you started from the bottom to the top), Tangerine froze.

Without a word, he walked closer to you -tilting your chin up with the ease of a finger and looking under it on your chest. You froze, his skin on yours was still something you couldn't deal with.

"Where'd you get 'at one?"

Fuck.

You knew what he was talking about immediately. It was a scar, just above your heart. You'd been stabbed on the job, and Lemon had fucked up your stitches so it had healed weird -came out curved somehow.

And then Tangerine was so paranoid that you showed him because he needed to know you were okay -it was so close to your heart.

"You almost fuckin' died, Butterfly. One inch down and..."

It was a one-of-a-kind scar. At the time, it didn't matter but now? You knew Tangerine could recognize that scar anywhere.

"Tangerine," you spoke out, measured. You tried to keep your voice calm, maybe you could save this-

He stepped back, eyes making contact with yours -they darted between them for a moment and then back to the scar, and then to your top surgery scars. You could see the wheels turning in his head, and everything in your body was screaming-

"Tangerine, listen-"

That was enough, something in him stiffened and he grabbed his coat off the back of the couch.

"Tangerine," you echoed out, but you knew it was no use now.

He didn't say a word, slipping it on and with the fastest steps you'd ever seen in your life, he disappeared out the door and slammed it shut.

The walls shook after.

You swallowed dryly, tears pricking at your eyes -this was never supposed to happen. This was never supposed to happen-

Your hand was on your com before you could even think about it, breaths shuddering out of your chest -sobs breaking in the back of your throat. You tried to stop it, hold it all back-

"Beetle? Hello? I see your com is on, everything alright?"

"They know," you whispered, nearly silent -tears streaming down your face.

"Who knows what?"

"The twins, they were... they were the ones nearby," you started, and your voice cracked, "-Tangerine offered to stitch me up and I have a scar-"

"Beetle, slow down. I can't understand you."

"They know who I am, Maria," you breathed out, tears catching in your throat, "-Tangerine knows and he's going to tell Lemon, and I don't know what the hell to do-"

"Beetle, breathe."

"He left," you echoed out, and you were crying -god it had been so long since you cried, "-he left, Maria. He didn't even say anything-"

"It's a lot to take in. Give him the benefit of the doubt."

"He's gone," you swallowed, "-I know it, Maria."

"You know him. Do you really think he's gone?"

You thought back to the pendant on his necklace -the butterfly, your butterfly.

"I don't..." you started, "-I don't know."

"Just wait, if nobody comes back... Give me a call, alright? I'll send a car your way."

So, you did.

You waited, buttoned your shirt back up, tried to wash the stain, and waited. You ended up flicking through TV shows, and smushed into the couch, waiting. Even thought about ordering your own food, but a part of you wanted to be sure that Lemon wasn't coming back.

After about two hours of waiting, you swallowed down the tears -eyes all red and puffy, and started gathering up your stuff. You accepted it now, you'd never see them again.

It was your decision, you would regret it for as long as you lived. Something in your chest heavy and exhausted, you readied yourself to call Maria back.

Just as your finger was about to touch the com, there was a jingle of some keys outside the door. You froze in place, slipping on one of your shoes without another thought -ready to leave. You knew he'd ask you.

The door slowly opened, and Tangerine peered inside -he looked worse for wear and you think if you focused hard enough you could see blood on his knuckles. You wouldn't ask, not now.

His blue eyes flicked over you, to your shoes and your coat all gathered up on your arms, he gnawed at his lip for a moment.

"Where the fuck are you goin'?

It was all harsh edges and sharp points, it made you bring up your own barriers.

"I'm leaving," you answered, straightening your posture and putting on your other shoe.

Tangerine didn't move for a moment, as you slowly made your way to the door -footsteps echoing in the heaviest silence you'd ever experienced in your life.

Just before you got there, Tangerine stepped in front of the door -something in his eyes heavy.

"Tangerine," you sighed, "-let me go."

"No," he answered simply, eyes meeting yours and you saw now, they were red and puffy too, "-hell no."

"Look, I really don't want to-" you started before briefly rubbing your temples, "-you want me to leave, just let me leave."

"Who the fuck said 'at?"

You tilted your head.

"Why would I want you to leave?" He furrowed his eyebrows, still angry, "-You... I just got you back, why the fuck would I want you to leave?"

"I lied to you, Tan," you breathed out, and something caught in your throat, "-I lied to you for years."

"You're fuckin' alive-" Tangerine exhaled, chuckling a little in disbelief, "-I have so many questions, yeah? That is far, so fuckin' far, from wantin' you to leave."

"Tangerine," you spoke, voice shaky, you just wanted to go. It would be so much easier if you just left-

He paused for a second, "Are you fuckin' listenin' to me?"

"I am," you replied, tears rising to the backs of your eyes, "-I just can't..."

"Love," he grabbed your wrist, something softer, gentler, "-Love, look at me, please."

You swallowed your tears and with a big breath, you looked at him. His eyes were always so very blue, but something about them then was vulnerable. Broken wide open, Tangerine sat in front of you.

"I want ya to stay, yeah?" He breathed out, wiping over his mouth, "-I want you to stay."

You pursed your lips, trying so hard not to cry -you shouldn't be the one crying, "Okay."

"Now," he sighed out, a little lighter, "-fuckin' sit down, you shouldn't aggravate the wound."

You wordlessly sat down on the far edge of the couch, closest to the door. Your hands were shaking, so you laid them flat on your lap -trying to calm down.

He wants you to stay.

"You said-" he started, his voice getting caught up in his mouth, "-You said you were in a cabin, yeah? Where?"

You opened your mouth, confused, "Why does that matter? You have... I lied to you for years and that’s your first question?"

He was standing up, pacing, and then suddenly stopped. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment blinking.

"You know, when they told us you were... dead," he echoed out -something caught in his throat, "-they didn't have a body? All we had was-"

His hand went to his necklace putting the pendant in between his fingers, "All we had was your things, there was no fuckin' body-"

"What does this have to do with-"

"I looked for you," he finally said, "-everywhere I went for a job, I fuckin' looked for you. Because if there wasn't a body, you could still be-"

He fell silent, for a moment -swallowing, eyes swimming over you like he couldn't believe it, "...alive."

"So," he continued, clearing his throat, "-I want to know where the fuck you were. 'At fair?"

Your mouth snapped shut - he looked for you? For how long? That wasn't important now though.

"Alaska," you answered, wiping at your eyes, "-small town, in the middle of nowhere. I had... I had an alias."

"Fuckin' Alaska," he muttered, under his breath.

"It was cold all the time," you added -a bit awkwardly, "-snowed nearly everyday."

Tangerine scanned over your face, maybe like he was trying to imagine you there, alone in the cabin. Or maybe, you out in the snow.

"That day..." he started slow, "-did you fight it? When you were told what you... what you had to do, did you fight it?"

"What are you asking?"

"Did you even think about telling us? Or, or-" he swallowed and his voice was husky and his eyes were bleary, "-coming back to us?"

"Tangerine," you echoed out, emotionless -trying to reign it in, "-I didn't have a choice. You know that."

"I know," he agreed, "-but did you fuckin' try?"

"You think-" you exhaled out, tears gathering in your eyes now, "-You think I didn't try to say goodbye? That I didn't beg Maria to change her mind? That I didn't tell her you guys would keep the secret-"

"Beetle-"

"-just so I could stay?"

"Beetle, I didn't..."

"I did," you swallowed, "-I did beg. It didn't work. If I... If you would've known, we both would've been in too much danger. I couldn't risk it."

"The White Death, yeah?" He clarified, and he was closer to you then he was before. His fingers kept twitching like he wanted to do something.

"He was after me," you hummed, "-knew where I was, where you were, where Lemon was."

"I just-" he started, "-I don't fuckin' get why... after you- After the White Death was killed, why didn't you- why didn't you come back? Tell us?"

"It's... complicated."

"Why?" he stressed out, "Why was it complicated? You were alive, and I don't know about Lemon, but, personally, I would've loved to fuckin' know 'at."

"Tangerine," you started, "-I'm different now, and you guys... you grieved me. How was I supposed to come back from that?"

"I don't give a flyin' fuck 'at you're a man," he interrupted, "-I just wish you would've felt comfortable enough to tell me- tell us earlier."

"Tangerine," you could feel the tears in your eyes.

"And we grieved you, yeah, but-" he explained, messing with his hands for a moment, "-knowing you're alive? That you were fuckin' breathin'? The grieving... It wouldn't 'ave fuckin' mattered, love."

"It would have," you stopped him, "-you thought I was dead-"

"Love," he suddenly sat by your side, gently holding your wrists in place, "-listen to me for once, yeah?"

You nodded, wordlessly, tears slipping down your face, this was guilt you were holding onto for years.

Without hesitating, Tangerine gently started swiping them away with his thumbs, "I thought I was in a world without fuckin' you. Lovely, annoying, beautiful fuckin' you."

You opened your mouth, but he merely continued.

"I couldn't imagine my life without ya in it, and then suddenly it was the fuckin' life I was livin'," he sighed out, eyes matching yours and hands cradling your jaw, "-you being alive changes fuckin' everythin'."

"Why?" You offered, eyes scattering between his -looking for an answer.

He paused for a moment, before dropping his hands, pushing his hair back for a moment, and swallowing. It was like he was readying himself.

"Lemon used to tell me that I was stupid," he finally said.

"Doesn't he always?" You furrowed your eyebrows.

He smiled a little bit, before grabbing one of your hands with his and fidgeting with your fingers -kind of like he just needed to be close to you, "Right, yeah. But this... He told me 'at one day I would regret not tellin' you."

"Telling me what?"

"When you... when you died, I realized the idiot was fuckin' right," he hummed out, a sob catching in his throat but he just kept talking, "-and then, I met a fuckin' self-righteous bloke who had the nerve to dare me to shoot 'im. Looked me right in the eyes."

"Tangerine-"

"And then the guy kept showin' up, and I kept seein' 'im and it was the always same back and forth," he continued, tracing along the creases of your palm, "-but at some point I started thinkin' that I wouldn't shoot 'im, even if he asked."

You laughed.

A smile flickered across his face at the noise, but he kept his eyes downward, "And then, I see 'im bloody and hurtin'. And I think back to the first time, when I didn't say it and if now I wasn't gonna be fuckin' able to-"

You raised an eyebrow.

"And then they dared to be the same fuckin' person."

"Tangerine," you asked, "-what the hell are you talking about?"

It was then that he finally looked up, and then you realized how close his face was to yours. You feel the puffs of his breath against your skin, and it made your head fuzzy. Your thoughts became blurry and all you could see was him-

Tangerine. Tangerine. Tangerine-

"I really don't give a fuck 'at you're a man," he repeated, blue eyes laser focused on yours.

You furrowed your eyebrows, "What the hell does that-"

His eyes dipped down to your lips.

Oh.

"Really?"

"Not a flyin' fuck," he echoed out.

You smiled, before letting your own eyes drift -just for a second. It was like a confirmation, a consent.

Before you could say another word, his hands reached up to grab your face and bring your lips to his. It was all force, desperate, like you were oxygen and he just wanted to breathe-

But somehow still gentle, holding you -fingers rubbing along your face like he was reminding himself you were there. That you were alive. That you were sitting there beside him breathing. It made sense now, all of it.

The grieving didn't matter because you were alive.

He finally separated, keeping his forehead on yours for a split second -staring into your eyes and huffing out breaths.

He kept you there, until it felt like you couldn't breathe -he stole all of it away.

When there was a knock on the door.

Then, there was another knock.

He groaned, throwing his head back -decidedly not letting you go.

"What do you fuckin' want, Lemon?"

"No way to treat someone who got you food," he chastised, "-you 'ave the keys, let me in."

"Come back in ten minutes," Tangerine answered -eyes solidly on yours, you felt frozen in your seat.

"The food's gonna get cold, mate," Lemon retorted, "-don't ya want it warm? I worked hard to get it, ya know? The closest restaurant was like a fuckin' block away-"

"Ten minutes," Tangerine repeated.

"I'm not fuckin' leaving," Lemon started again, "-it's cold out 'ere. You gonna leave your brother out in the fuckin' cold-"

"Fuckin' go, Lemon," Tangerine groaned out.

"Fine," he breathed out, "-keep snoggin', but don't fuckin' complain if I eat some of your food."

Yeah, you really missed this.

"We won't," you chimed in with a smile.

Tangerine smiled at you like you held the sun.

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