#not even going to indent or try to proof read cause im in a tizzy its been a weird mental day but have this

[pettyprocrastination]

of all the boys to notice when something is wrong with you, its Benny. 

They're all smart. Intuitive and in touch with subtle shifts of behavior and emotion, but they are also men. Men with their own lives and hang ups that it may take a big to click in their brain that the little joke you made about yourself at lunch was more than you let on. But Benny is the first one, turning his head to you and frowning the moment the soft self-jab leaves your lips. 

It’s because he’s the youngest, you think to yourself. Even after years of bonding and being through blood and tears and trauma with one another, there’s still a bit of that fear of being left out. Of just being Will Miller’s Baby brother that he feels the need to overcompensate by being there, by taking note of what upsets who and who likes what. 

Which is why he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t ask whats wrong because he’s noticed you’re getting quiet again and slowly slipping from outings and not texting at much, he simply grabs the house key you gave him and invited himself in with a box of pizza and cheesy garlic bread. 

He ignores your complaints that “i had a long day at work” and “I still need to do the dishes” because he’s already setting the box on the kitchen island and putting away plate by your side. “if you wanna get rid of me, it’ll take more than some housework.” 

soon after you're both sat on the couch, watching some movie he insists you’ll love because its stupid, but a funny kind of stupid. The movie drags on and you curl into his side. Neither of you say anything of it. 

“You know I love you, right?” He asks softly. You look up and see that look of care and concern that makes you heavy with guilt. “we all do. But, you’re amazing. You need to realize that.” 

You don’t trust your voice to not crack. Because everything has just been so much. Work and life and having to look at yourself in the mirror compared to other beautiful women and you just aren’t happy so you just wrap your arms around him tight and he pulls you onto his lap where you stay for the rest of the movie. Eventually you fall asleep, but he gently jostles you awake enough to lead you to your bedroom where you unceremoniously flop onto the mattress, making him laugh. He’s ready to leave until you stretch out a hand and make a grabbing motion toward him. He slips into bed with you, face curling into the crook of you neck and cold hands slipping above the back of your shirt which makes you grouch and grumble, but you keep him close to you nonetheless. 

Frankie is next. 

You come home to see him in your home. The second overly polite home break-in you’ve had in two weeks. 

“You know, I didn’t give you guys keys for this, right?” 

He’s in the kitchen, standing over a bubbling pot with a sweet faced little girl straped to his chest, who shrieks with joy and wiggles the moment she sees you. 

“Yeah well, somebody wanted to say hello.” His daughter kicks her feet and does her best to escape the contraption keeping her stuck to Francisco’s chest, it isn't until you unclip it and pull her into your arms that she finally settles. “She wouldn’t even let me drive home, little tyrant.” 

You press several loud kisses to her cheek that mage her squeal. “sounds about right.”  He lifts a spoonful from the pot and holds it over to you, where you tentatively sip before humming. “That’s what I thought. Mama Morales’ recipes never fail.” He nods to his daughter, now making herself content with chewing on the collar of your shirt. “Why don’t you go entertain the little trouble maker while I finish up dinner for you? I made enough that you’ll have leftovers for some time.” 

You see it again, that look of care and thinly hidden worry in those big brown eyes that make your own begin to tear up. “Frankie, I-”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay, bug.” He tells you softly. “I know.” 

You bring his daughter into the living room, where you tickle her tummy and groan dramatically as she slaps you with her little hands until her father calls you in for food. 

The warm food makes you comfortable. Sleepy and fuzzy in a way that a soft blanket does, it also makes you honest. As you sit next to Francisco and look at the sleeping little girl in his arms. 

“It’s just. Hard lately.” You confess. “And it shouldn’t be. I don’t know why it is and I can’t-” 

“It’s alright.” He tells you slowly. “You don’t need a reason for this, bug. God knows I understand. Just...” He looks off for a moment and you wonder if he’s remembering his own. The falls and rises, the dark nights alone where he felt like he would never begin to pull it together because of how fast everything was unraveling. 

Maria shifts in his arms, smacking her lips in her sleep before settle again against his chest. 

“Don’t try to do this alone, alright?” 

You promise him as such. 

Will takes you for a drive. 

Driving with Will, you gather, is lot like driving with your father. He’s silent. IN the way that even with music playing, you feel like there’s something unspoken that hangs in the air and he’s hoping you head. 

When his hand comes out against you as he stops suddenly, you hear it loud enough. 

He doesn’t park until the sun is beginning to set and you see no buildings, only wide green fields and the occasional group of cows chewing at the grass without a care in the world. 

You slip from the car and walk behind him as he opens the bed of his truck. 

“Is this where you finally kill me?”  He scoffs. “God no, if I was gonna kill you it wouldn’t be out in the open, bug. I’m not a fucking amueter.” 

You laugh, he laughs as well. 

“You wanna talk about it?” 

You fall silent for a moment. “no, not yet.” 

He nods. The pair of you sit in the bed of his truck, watching the sky bleed orange in a blissful quiet. Will wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you close, your head falls onto his shoulder. 

“your brother broke into my house last week.” You tell him. Will chuckles in reply. 

“I told you giving him a key was a bad idea.”

“I’m starting to think giving all of you a key was a bad idea. I mean honestly, you fuckers stay over at my house more than I do at this point!” 

The pair of you melt away into a conversation about just how comfortable your couch is on his back and the prospect of him maybe-maybe getting a dog. On the drive back you ask him if he has any names picked out. 

He tells you that he has five. 

Santi is the last to say something of it, which isn’t unusual of him. The man is a flurry of pain and ideas that sometimes he can forget the people around him until he realizes that the only person he’s been talking to is himself. 

You can sympathize. 

He invites you over for dinner. Invites all the boys too. He opens the door to you standing there, holding a case of beer and whistles. 

“You look like shit.” 

“yeah well you aren’t exactly princess Diana either.”  You smile as he pulls you into his arms. You feel comfortable, safe and wear in your chest when he holds you tight against him. Pope always gave the best hugs. When he pulls away he touches your arm and tilts his head. 

“You doin’ alright?”  “No.” You tell him honestly. “But I will be, eventually I think. I’ve got a uh-” You pull at a scab on your hand as you begin to sweat. “Therapy appointment next week. I think...it’ll be good for me.”  Pope nods. Not necessarily happy with your answer but content. He motions behind him. “The guys are out back. Benny is talking about how we should start having movie night at your place now.” 

“Oh for fucks sake.” 

The night is spent in his backyard, listening as Benny very passionately makes his case that yes. Your house may be smaller than Pope’s but your couch is more comfortable and you aren’t fucking stingy when it comes to ordering food for the group. Will asks if this is why Benny welcomes himself into your home without warning every goddamn week. The younger millers confesses, adding “that and she’s prettier than the rest of you assholes.” 

Will is bouncing Maria on his knee, blowing raspberries into her tummy that make her shriek with laughter and her father smile from across the lawn. 

The entire night they all subtly check on you. Each bringing you a plate of food after the other, a small hand squeezing yours or a soft “you okay?” asked so softly you could cry. 

A group of soldiers, all tittering around you like a bunch of mother hens without any chicks of their own to look after. 

But you can’t complain. Of their little pricks and prods because its all done out of good intentions. Of care and concern and love for you. 

Love. 

You smile into your beer as you lift it up to your lips. An argument between Benny and Pope rings in the background, something about who Mari’s favorite uncle truly is, as you sit back and feel at peace, if only for a moment. 

It was easy to forget, you probably would again. But your boys would always be there to remind you of just how much love they had for you.