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queenmylovely · 5 years

Text

The Fourth Stage

Summary: Gardner langway x fem!reader. Gardner meets someone new along his route.

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: mentions of death, grief, depression, angst, cussing

A/N: This is what I wrote for my first request. It’s much darker than anything I’ve ever wrote but I tried to be as true to the request and grief as I could. Also it’s in kind of a headcanon format but it’s over 7k words so idk. I hope you like what I wrote, and any feedback including likes, replies, and reblog are greatly appreciated!

Request: Something where Gardner falls for a PoC woman who’s emotionally broken

Disclaimer: I am not Black nor do I claim to know or understand the experience of Black people or Black women specifically. I was requested to write this by an anon that requested something with a PoC woman. I welcome constructive criticism for any part of my characterization of Reader. (I will not be accepting and will delete and block any racist hate.)

Masterlist

☆☆☆

You moved into your dad’s house in May, a month after he died.

It was a sudden heart attack at work, but apparently your dad had a will, so you inherited his house. Because you wanted to keep it in good condition and didn’t have anything tying you to your current place, you moved.

You hadn’t done anything with his things so all of your boxes were piled into the garage and you lived with his stuff instead.

His death had wrecked you, and you had quit your stupid summer job because doing anything but laying down seemed impossible.

While he hadn’t been a rich man, he had left enough money that this was possible for summer; something that you would have thought was lucky if the thought of anything related to his death being lucky didn’t make you sick.

You spent all day everyday in your bed, maybe making it to the kitchen once or twice but only for saltines and peanut butter out of the jar or a can of cold chili.

The highlight of your day, if you could call it that, was taking the hottest shower you could, in an effort to feel something other than the dull ache that was knowing your dad was dead.

But all it did was leave your skin dry and stinging, the slight pain only making you feel worse because you knew it was nothing compared to what your dad had felt.

Your mom called once a week, but since you had been raised by your dad after their divorce, she had little to say and you sat silent while she tried to think of things that would cause any reaction in you other than a grunt or sigh.

About a week after you moved in, as you’re laying in bed, eyes closed but sleep never reaching you, you hear something that you had noticed the day before.

It was the sound of footsteps approaching your door followed by a metal creak and then footsteps retreating again.

Most of the time, you were too lost in your head to notice the outside world, but it just so happened that yesterday you were walking to your kitchen when it had happened and when the sound repeated itself today, you took notice.

The next day, without realizing you had been waiting for it, you heard the sound again.

After it repeated the following day, you looked at the clock, reading 3:25pm.

On the fifth day you realized it must be the sound of the mail deliverer because when you collected the mail that night at 2:00am, the mailbox made the same creaking sound.

Soon, it became a comfort to hear that sound because of how consistent it was. Part of you wondered how the mail carrier was so exact with their timing, but for the most part you didn’t really care.

Three weeks later you found yourself moving from your bed to the couch around 3:00pm and you didn’t really know why until you heard the sound. It was louder since the door wasn’t separated by any walls.

When 3:24pm rolled around everyday, you held your breath in anticipation, letting it out as soon as you heard the steps coming up the walk.

Another week later, you moved from the couch at 3:15pm, sitting against the door with a blanket until you heard the sound.

From this position, you could hear the person’s fingers against the paper of the envelopes as they grabbed them from the bag.

The next day you jump when the person coughed as they walked away; it was the first sound that really affirmed to you that it was another person outside the door.

Three days later the person sneezed just after the metal creak and you realized it was a guy.

You whispered, “Bless you” out of habit, though you knew that he would never know you said it.

Three days later, it wasn’t enough. Hearing his breathing and coughing and sneezing everyday was both too much and not enough to hear from this person you had never seen before.

You needed to make sure this person was real. Needed to know it wasn’t just the ghost of your own mind or a side effect of only sleeping in hour intervals and eating just twice a day on good days.

So, on a random Tuesday, you stood up at 3:23pm, swaying a bit from the head-rush that you got and tried to keep yourself from hyperventilating as you waited for two excruciating minutes.

When you heard the footsteps, but before the metal creak, you opened the door quickly, startling the person on your front step. He’s holding your mail in one hand and your eyes zeroed in on that and you reached out, grabbing the letters from him.

You closed the door just as fast but made sure it closed softly before dropping the mail on the floor and running back to your room.

Gardner stood on your front step, a little dumbfounded by what had just happened.

A couple of customers on his route knew when he delivered their mail, but usually they talked to him if they did.

He figured you weren’t trying to be rude though, with the gentle way you had taken the mail and closed the door. Plus, the look on your face had been more apprehensive than angry.

The next day, you stand and wait again. This time, you opened the door a little more calmly and actually looked at the guy.

He was an average looking white guy in a post office uniform. Your eyebrow raised imperceptibly at the hat he’s wearing but you just grabbed the mail again and closed the door.

Gardner looked down at himself as the door closed. He hadn’t missed the way your eyes had moved over his form. He also hadn’t missed the fact that you were wearing the same clothes as the day before.

Changing your clothes was a weekly occurrence. Somehow, your mom seemed to know that you needed to be told to, so you would after she called.

This week, you’re wearing grey sweats and one of your dad’s college sweatshirts from Howard.

Your hair was as dry as your skin from your too-hot showers. Naturally a 4a texture that you used to keep well defined was now frizzy and tangled. You didn’t have the energy to do your hair care routine anymore, only washing it and maybe pulling it into a low ponytail.

The third day he realized you’re still wearing the same thing and introduced himself before you could close the door.

“I’m Gardner.” You almost jumped when he talked, but the kind voice and harmless words reassured you.

“Y/N,” you replied, voice croaking from lack of use.

On the fourth day he said hi.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a closed lip smile.

“Hi Gardner,” you replied, and though the look of apprehension was gone, the smile was not returned.

Fifth day he made a comment about the weather.

“Nice weather today, nicer than yesterday.” he told you. You looked up at the sky for the first time in a while and nodded.

Sixth day he asked for the time.

“Do you have the time?” he asked as you opened the door.

“You’re wearing a watch,” you pointed out.

“It doesn’t work anymore,” he explained.

“It’s 3:25. You always come at 3:25,” you said matter-of-factly.

“Thank you,” he said with what almost looked like a little smirk but he’s turning away before you could be sure.

On the seventh day, you’re wearing different clothes. They’re still not necessarily real clothes; leggings that are pilled up and a Howard shirt, but Gardner still noticed.

“I like your shirt.”

“Thank you, it was my Dad’s,” you said, looking him in the eye. You didn’t smile, but there’s more expression in your face than before.

He nodded, knowing that if you wanted to say more you would.

Eighth day you’re wearing the same shirt but different leggings. Gardner made a comment about how it looks like it might rain.

This continued for another 10 days. Gardner always talked first, and you offered varying replies. Sometimes it’s just a nod, others it’s a sentence. You changed your clothes more often, and Gardner complimented you every time he noticed.

It’s a small thing, and the compliments were simple. “I like that shirt,” “Those pants look comfy,” or “I’m a fan of Jurassic Park too,” but whenever he said them, you got a small rush of dopamine that you’d gotten used to living without.

One day, you’re not at the door. Unbeknownst to Gardner, it’s the three month anniversary of your father’s death and nothing was enough to move you from your place on your bed. The dull pain was amplified in waves over the course of the day. Staring at the wall turned into uncontrollable sobbing in a matter of seconds and back again within minutes.

The next day, when you’re back at the door with red-rimmed eyes and puffy cheeks, Gardner didn’t mention your absence. Instead, he commented on the number of ads in today’s mail.

“That’s how you really know that the 4th of July is approaching, the mattress sales,” he joked and the corners of your mouth pulled slightly up as you grabbed the aforementioned ads and shut the door.

Another week later, Gardner walked up and when you opened the door, there’s nothing in his hands. You raised your eyebrows in a silent question.

“You don’t have any mail today,” he told you.

“Then why did you come to my door?” you asked in confusion.

“I like seeing you everyday. Part of my routine,” he said plainly.

You made a face he couldn’t quite decipher and replied, “Okay.”

“That’s a good color on you,” he gestured to your shirt which was a dark green.

“Thank you,” you said, supposing that the pine colored shirt did compliment your dark brown skin well.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, turning around and walking away. You watched him until he got to the edge of your yard, noticing the way he trudged as he walked and how he looked down at his feet. Shrugging to yourself, you closed the door.

Three days later you opened the door and before he could say anything you talked, “Gardener’s your first name?”

“Yeah, but without the ‘e.’”

“Okay,” you replied and he handed you the mail.

Three days later, it hit 100 degrees and you felt it even in the air conditioned house.

You opened the door as Gardner was at the edge of your yard and watched him approach. It’s not until he’s just five feet away that he noticed the door’s open, a side effect of watching the sidewalk.

It’s easy to see the sweat that’s sticking his shirt to his chest, dripping down his neck, and darkening the rim of his hat. Even after only being outside for under a minute, you could feel the beginnings of sweat on your body as well.

Gardner looked at you as you stood there before reaching into his bag for your mail. You looked as if you wanted to say something, so he didn’t interrupt you with talk of the weather as he had planned.

“It’s too hot out,” you stated.

“I agree,” he agreed.

“I mean, it’s too hot for you to be outside,” you clarified.

“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds,” he recited.

You shook your head in slight frustration and then rushed out, “Do you want to come inside for a minute to get out of the heat?”

“Oh, um, sure I can do that,” he replied. As you stepped away from the doorway, he walked in and you closed the door behind him.

You led him to the kitchen which was freshly cleaned. When you realized how hot it was this morning and decided to invite him in, you had cleaned the kitchen in a fury.

Growing up, your dad had always made sure to clean the house well before guests came over, and made sure you did the same. The thought of disappointing him in that small way gave you enough energy to do the work that you hadn’t done the whole time you lived there.

You pulled down two cups from the cupboard and filled them with cool water. You set them on the table, sitting down and gesturing for him to do the same.

“I didn’t put ice ‘cause you’re not supposed to shock your system with water that’s too cold, but this should still be refreshing,” you told him.

“That’s good to know, thank you,” Gardner replied before gulping down the whole glass. You quirked your lips at his actions. He was trying to act like he was okay, but obviously he was having trouble dealing with the heat.

As you stood to refill his water, he looked at you a little more carefully. You’re wearing black running shorts that he’s seen before, but instead of the sweatshirt that you had paired with them, you’re wearing that t-shirt you had been wearing the first day he complimented your appearance. This time, it was knotted in front and the sleeves were cuffed so less fabric was touching your skin.

Garner tried not to look too hard at the exposed skin of your arms and legs, forcing his eyes up to your hair. At first, he had thought it was in a low ponytail like it was sometimes, but as he really looked now, he could tell it’s in one braid that hits between your shoulder blades. He could see the curls even in the plait, and as you turned around, he noticed that a couple of curls had escaped and were framing your face.

“Your hair looks nice,” he said softly.

You reached up and felt the braid. “Oh, I was cleaning,” you said, almost more to yourself than him. To keep your hair out of your face while cleaning, you always used to pull it into a simple braid. You hadn’t even realized you had done so today.

The two of you sat in silence for a minute until Gardner spoke up, “This is a really nice house.”

You could tell by the way he said it that he’s kind of purposely not asking any questions, just complimenting, but you slightly answered anyway, “Yeah, it was my dad’s.”

“Like the shirt,” he said as he pointed to the shirt you’re wearing.

You looked down and laughed, a sound he hadn’t heard yet. It’s a sound that surprised you as well; you hadn’t heard it in months. All of a sudden, it’s all you could do as an almost hysterical laugh took over your body. You’re laughing, gasping for air, and wiping the beginnings of tears from your eyes for a full minute before you answered, “Yeah, like the shirt,” in between giggles.

Gardner, to his credit, didn’t look freaked out and instead was smiling at the sound of your laughter. He decided that he really liked the sound, and would love to hear it again.

The two of you were smiling at each other for the better part of a minute before you dropped your gaze and took a sip of your water. Gardner copied you, waiting for you to make the next move.

You’re tapping your fingernails against the glass and looking into the water as you said your next words, “He died in April.”

Gardner nodded, but you only saw it from the corner of your eye. He had suspected for a while that something had happened. Well, really since April. While he had never met your dad, he noticed the mail pile up and then the change in only the first name on all of the mail. “That sucks.”

“It does,” you replied and took another sip of your water. You appreciated that he didn’t say I’m sorry like most people do and wondered what’s happened to him that he knew that those words don’t really help.

There’s a comfortable silence for another few minutes before Gardner finished his second glass and cleared his throat, standing up.

“Thank you for the water and for letting me come in here and cool off. I’ve gotta finish my route, so I have to go,” he informed you and you nodded.

“You’re welcome, Gardner,” you said as you led him back to your front door. You waved as he went out onto the front step, “Bye.”

“Bye,” he said back and started down the walk. Just before he reached the edge of your yard, he turned and looked back at you, smiling when he saw you hadn’t closed the door yet. You smiled back before closing the door.

Two days later, on Friday, it’s hot again, but it didn’t reach 100. You decided to invite him in anyway.

When you opened the door and he handed you your mail, you asked him, “Do you want to come inside again?”

He made a face you couldn’t quite comprehend. His eyes were squinty and his mouth was pressed down in a firm line. After a second, he replied.

“I actually can’t today. I have more mail than usual and I can’t get off track.”

“Oh,” you said, casting your eyes downwards and you started to slowly close the door.

“But I can come back after my route…?” Gardner offered, wanting to see you again.

“Okay,” you answered, the slightest of smiles creeping its way onto your face.

Gardner nodded and told you he’d be back around 5:30 and just as he started to turn away, you told him to wait.

You ran to your kitchen, grabbing a water bottle and filling quickly with water and just a bit of ice. Rushing back to the front door, you held it out to him and said, “At least take the water so you can stay hydrated.”

“Thank you. I’ll bring it back when I come back,” he said before waving and walking away.

You closed the door behind him and sat down on your living room couch. You sat there for a while, feeling something that you couldn’t quite place.

The feeling kept building slowly, and when you felt a drop in your stomach, you realized what it was. You’re nervous. It’s something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Since all you typically felt was the numbness, dull ache, or shooting pain, and now the calmness that came everyday at 3:25, you hadn’t recognized it at first.

Now, it was all you felt and you had to remind yourself to breathe in and out at a regular pace so you could remain at least a little calm.

Standing up, you walked to your bathroom and splashed some cold water on your face.

You looked in the mirror, taking in your appearance and seeing someone changed by grief.

Your hair was still in the braid from two days ago, and was very loose and frizzy. You took out the braid and shook it loose, watching it fall limply to the sides of your head, the natural volume and shape washed out by the harshness of the hot water. Knowing there wouldn’t be enough time for an entire routine, you pulled it into a much tighter french braid and called it good.

Next, you took in your face and how sunken your eyes were. Lack of sleep did wonders for the bags under your eyes.

Your skin looked dry and so did your lips. Trying to find some way to remedy this, you looked under the sink for lotion or something. Thankfully, your dad was very diligent about staying moisturized, and there’s shea and cocoa butter that you pull out.

Once you grabbed those, you could see what was behind them and smiled to yourself. It was a big jar of coconut oil, and you sent a little thank you to your dad. You used the butters to moisturize and the oil to help tame the baby hairs at the crown of your head before leaving for your bedroom.

There, you put on one of your less dingy pairs of black leggings, a black tank top, and one of your dad’s flannel shirts that you left unbuttoned.

You spent the next hour or so that you had to wait cleaning up the little mess that had accumulated since he last came inside.

At 5:31, you heard a knock at the door and opened it, as you had already been standing there.

“Hi, Y/N,” he said with a slight smile, even though he seemed to be a little out of breath.

“You’re late,” you said seriously.

“I’m sorry, my brother Calvin wouldn’t let me leave without telling me about his day, it took longer than I thought. I practically ran over here,” he said in a rush, with a worried look on his face.

“I’m joking,” you reassured him with a small smile and a little laugh. His face relaxed and he smiled back at you. “You’re only a minute late, so that doesn’t even count. Come in.”

“Thanks for understanding. I try to be very punctual,” he said as you led him into the living room and you both sat on the couch.

“I’ve noticed. I think that’s a good quality, but you shouldn’t stress yourself out about it.”

“I didn’t want you to think that I wasn’t going to come or anything,” he explained.

“Well, you could’ve texted me or something.”

“I- um, I don’t have your number,” he pointed out, cheeks getting a little red, and not from the running.

“Oh, that’s right. Here, where’s your phone?” you said, reaching your hand out towards him. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it over. You quickly went into his contacts and added yourself. You handed back his phone and he looked at it, a fond little smile coming onto his face. “There. You know, I like the uniform, but it’s kinda nice to see you out of it.”

Gardner was wearing just an orange and white striped polo shirt and jeans. He flushed slightly at your words but smiled back and barely whispered, “thank you.”

A slight silence fell, but neither of you really seemed to mind. Gardner was taking in your living room and you’re taking in him.

He was really a very unassuming person but he was actually pretty cute and you always found yourself unusually calm in his presence. Even after the afternoon that was filled with nerves, as soon as you opened the door and laid eyes on him, everything had evened out.

“So you have a brother?” you asked, breaking the silence. His eyes flicked back over to you when you spoke and he nodded.

“Yeah, Calvin. We live together. Well, I live in front of the house. In a boat,” he told you.

“A boat?” you said, your eyebrows knitting together in confusion.

“A boat on stilts,” he explained.

“Do you ever take it out?” you asked, slowly understanding what he meant.

“Not really.”

“Mm. What does Calvin do?” you said to switch the subject since he didn’t really seem to want to talk about the boat.

“He works at a mechanic shop. It’s pretty good work, he likes it.”

“The one in town?”

“Yeah, I mean it’s the only one in town, so yeah,” he replied.

“Then I’ve been there. Maybe I saw him. It was a little while ago, though. Last year,” you continued.

“He’s shorter than me. Great hair though,” he said.

“Hmmm, I think I’d remember great hair,” you said with a chuckle and Gardner joined in.

“Do you wanna see the rest of the house? A tour?” you asked him after a second and he nodded happily.

You stood up with him and guided him towards the hallway. First, you pointed to the bathroom then walked down to the bedrooms.

Opening the door to your dad’s room, you felt a slight shiver run over you. It’s a mixture of how cold the room is since the door is always closed and the same pang you felt in your heart every time you looked in.

Usually, you looked around the room every couple of days, wanting to feel closer to your dad, and sometimes you got the best sleep on his bed, lying on top of the comforter. Still, every look reminded you that he’s gone.

You looked around the room as Gardner stood next to you. Unknowingly, you brought a hand to your chest as if you were trying to ease the pain that was there.

Seeing the physiological manifestation of your grief, Gardner felt his own heart hurting for you. He could relate to how horrible the first months were without a parent.

Carefully and slowly, he reached out and placed his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it and then leaving it there. It comforted you, and when you finally swallowed the lump in your throat, you moved your hand from your chest to his hand and held it there for a moment before turning around and showing him your room across the hall.

It was still a bit of a mess, but all of the trash had been removed and your dirty clothes were piled into the overflowing hamper. Gardner didn’t seem put off by that fact and looked around your room.

It was technically the spare room, but when you stayed there with your dad, it had practically been your room and was partially filled with little things your dad knew you liked.

On the windowsill were a couple beeswax candles. The top of the dresser had an interesting mix of children’s books and classics with a boxset of The Lord of the Rings on one side and of Star Trek: The Next Generation on the other as bookends.

“The Next Generation?” he asked in amusement.

“Definitely, it’s a classic,” you returned.

“Hmmm, I was always more fond of the Original Series,” he stated with a smirk.

“Well, I hate to inform you, but you’ve been missing out on the best Star Trek has to offer,” you said, only slightly teasing.

“I’m not sure about that…” he said, definitely teasing.

“Why don’t we watch it and see?” you countered with a smile that he quickly returned.

“Deal.”

You grabbed the box set and the two of you headed back to the living room. You popped the disc into the player and turned on the TV. As it started up, you realized this is the first time you’d be watching anything you used to watch with your dad without him.

Your breath hitched for a second, and Gardner noticed, turning his head to look at you. He saw how the look on your face had changed.

“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.

You took a second to breathe again and then nodded slowly, “...yeah, I just used to watch this with my dad and haven’t since he died.”

“We don’t have to watch it if you don’t want,” he offered.

“No, I do want to,” you told him, making sure to look at him so he could see the clarity in your eyes. He nodded and the two of you turned your attention back to the screen.

The two of you watched the episode, laughing at the funny parts and gasping at the surprises. By the end of it, you felt content, except for one thing.

“Gosh, are you starving? I swear my stomach was rumbling through the last 20 minutes,” you said with an easy laugh.

“That was you? I thought it was the show,” Gardner said with a twinkle in his eye.

“Shut up,” you said, giggling and Gardner joined in. “How do you feel about a pizza?”

“That sounds great,” he said with a grin.

“Good, what kind do you like? I like pepperoni, so we can do half and half if you like something else.”

“I like plain cheese,” he confessed a little sheepishly.

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, picking up your phone and heading into the kitchen to find the pizza place’s number. You dug through a drawer your dad had with all that type of stuff and found it, placing an order for a delivery in half an hour.

You walked back in the living room and found Gardner sitting there with his hands in his lap, the TV paused.

“You didn’t have to pause the TV, I’ve seen all of these before,” you told him, sorry that he was probably bored.

“I wanted to watch with you,” he explained and you smiled, feeling your cheeks get a little warm.

You complied, sitting down on the couch and resuming the next episode. About ¾ of it passed before the pizza came, and you paused it again to get up and pay. Bringing the box into the kitchen, you beckoned Gardner to follow and he did willingly; his own stomach had started to rumble halfway into the second episode.

Pulling two plates down, you handed one to him and the two of you placed two slices each before grabbing a couple napkins.

“We can go back in the living room,” you informed him and he followed, you. Both of you dug in as soon as you pressed play.

Before long, the entire pizza was gone and the fourth episode was almost done. You noticed Gardner yawning into his hand and when it’s over, you offered to drive him home. He protested at first, but you insisted since it’s nearing 10:30pm and it’s already dark outside.

The drive was mainly quiet, the only words being said were Gardner’s directions. After about 10 minutes, you pulled up behind a boat on stilts. You laughed a little because part of you had doubted its existence, but there it was.

As Gardner started to reach for the door, you spoke up, “So what’s the verdict? Do you admit that TNG is better than TOS?”

He turned and looked at you with a slight smirk, “I don’t know. I’m still not sure that Picard can hold a candle to Kirk.”

“Okay, how dare you? Guess you’ll just have to watch more until you’re converted,” you told him, looking at him with a smile and a sure look in your eyes.

“Sounds like a plan. See you Monday,” he told you, opening the door and getting out. “Oh! I forgot your water bottle, it’s in the boat, I’ll go get it!”

He closed the door and started to jog away but you rolled down the window.

“Wait, Gardner!” you called out and he came back. “Don’t worry about it, you just keep it. You’ll get more use out of it than I would.”

“Okay,” he said, still a little unsure. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. See you Monday,” you told him and then drove away as he waved.

The drive back felt different. You didn’t drive much these days, only when you were absolutely out of food and could no longer ignore the hunger pangs in your body.

But, it’s kind of nice to drive again, and you felt happy for a second thinking about how nice the night was with Gardner. You got excited as you turned off your car to go inside and tell your dad all about it; he had always been incredibly supportive and understanding with your dating.

You left your car and used your keys to open the front door. Just as you opened your mouth to call out to your dad, you realized your mistake and the shock ran through your entire body.

Falling to your knees right there in front of the door, sobs racked your body and you had no choice but to give yourself up to them. That night, you fell asleep on your dad’s bed, having crawled to his room to try and find some comforting feeling there.

The next two days you spent all of your time in his bedroom, trying your hardest to feel his presence.

Monday came around and so did Gardner. Whatever kind of normalcy you had returned and the week continued on. On Friday, you invited Gardner over again to keep watching Star Trek.

This time, you ordered Chinese food and Gardner made you laugh as he tried to teach you to use chopsticks.

The summer heat had finally broken, and nights were finally getting cooler. Earlier in the day, you had opened the windows, and now they were letting in a cool breeze that was actually making you chilly and you noticed that Gardner had goosebumps.

Getting up during the theme song, you went to the hallway closet and grabbed a fuzzy blanket. Sitting back down, you draped it over both you and Gardner, and you had to sit closer so it covered the both of you.

Gardner thanked you and his voice cracked a little because the warmth he could feel radiating from your thigh touching his.

The two of you went back to watching the show, but between the blanket and Gardner’s warmth, you felt extremely cozy and started getting sleepy. Blinking slowly and yawning every couple of minutes, you tried to fight off the tiredness, but within 10 minutes, you’re dozing off.

Gardner noticed your tiredness but didn’t think too much of it until your head slumped over onto his shoulder. He turned his head and could see the profile of your face. Your eyes were closed and your face relaxed, your mouth just barely open.

He stayed as still as he could for a few minutes until he’s sure you’re deep asleep. Then, ever so slowly, he moved his arm from underneath your head so it could rest just above your shoulders on the couch.

Even in your sleep, you moved instinctively further into him, angling your head to lay on his chest and your legs came up onto the seats of the couch, pushing you further onto him. Your motion caused his arm to fall onto your shoulders and he left it there as you hummed happily in your sleep.

Eventually, your closeness and the soft sounds of the TV that he had turned down so as to not wake you up lulled Gardner to sleep as well.

The two of you remained sleeping until the morning. The sun shining brightly through an east-facing window was what woke you as it was directly on your face.

You kept your eyes closed so the sun didn’t blind you and immediately felt a pain in your neck. You thought to yourself that you must have slept wrong. That thought confused you, though, since normally you didn’t fall asleep long enough to cause any aches or pains.

The next thing that confused you was the movement you felt underneath your head. Bringing a hand up to shield your eyes from the sun, you opened your eyes and blinked rapidly, trying to get the sleep out of your eyes and take in your surroundings.

You gasped, moving your hand to cover your mouth as you realized that the thing moving underneath you was Gardner’s chest.

He’s still asleep. His head was leaning on the back of the couch, his mouth open, and you could hear his slow breathing. His right arm was resting on the arm of the couch and his left fell from your shoulders to your waist when you sat up to look at him. He had almost no blanket on him and you cringed at yourself for hogging the blanket.

You cringed again thinking how awkward it’s about to be when he woke up.

Pushing past your hesitation, you gently shook his shoulder, saying, “Gardner, wake up.”

Slowly, he started stirring and stretched inwardly, his arm tensing against your waist as he did. His eyes blinked open and he sleepily looked at you, confusion running onto his face as he saw how light it is.

“What time is it?” he asked worriedly.

“Ummm, 9:30am,” you informed him, looking at your phone.

“I’m so sorry, I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to impose. You just kind of fell asleep on me and I didn’t want to move until you woke up on your own but I guess I fell asleep too,” he rambled, looking around him. He saw his arm on your waist and quickly pulled it back to his side, blushing furiously.

“Gardner, it’s okay,” you told him, reaching for his hand at his side. “If anything it’s my fault because I fell asleep on you. Seriously, it’s all good.”

He looked at his hand in yours and nodded, looking up to you when you gave it a squeeze.

“Do you want some breakfast?” you asked. He nods again and you stood up to lead him to the kitchen.

This week, when you had gone grocery shopping, you had gotten more things than usual. That taste of pizza the previous Friday had reminded you how good cooked food was and you started actually cooking for yourself again.

You grabbed pancake mix and the griddle from the cupboard and got started.

Gardner chatted to you about how Calvin makes waffles but he likes pancakes too and about the events of the episodes the two of you watched last night.

He made you laugh with his theories about Riker and Deanna, and Picard and Dr. Crusher. The two of you shared little stories over pancakes; you told him a little about your dad and he told you about his friends at work and along the route.

After the two of you eat, he said that he should be on his way and that he could walk this time. You acquiesced, with the condition that he texted you when he got back so you would know he made it.

He opened your front door and stepped onto the front porch before turning back to say goodbye.

“Thanks for the food, it was good,” he said, a little awkward because he didn’t know where the two of you stood.

“You’re welcome,” you said, stepping out of the doorway and up to him. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek and then told him softly, “I’ll see you soon, Gardner,” before going back inside and closing the door softly behind you.

Gardner stayed standing there for a moment, reaching a hand up to his cheek and repeating, “soon.”

He remembered to text you as soon as he got back, walking into the house instead of climbing into the boat. Calvin spotted him walking through the kitchen and called him into the backyard for a game of horseshoes.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?” he asked as he picked up his shoes.

“Pretty good,” Gardner replied, picking his own up.

“You look kinda tired… Aren’t those the clothes you were wearing yesterday? Holy shit, did you stay the night at that girl’s place?” he asked gleefully, putting the pieces together. He tossed his first shoe and missed by a foot.

“Y/N, and yes, and yes. But we just slept. Well, she fell asleep on me on her couch and then I fell asleep too. My neck kinda hurts,” Gardner explained, rubbing his neck then throwing his first shoe, ringing it.

“Shit. Does she like you?” Calvin asked before throwing his second one that landed so it’s touching then pumping his fist in celebration.

“I don’t know, Cal. Maybe? She’s going through a rough time, her dad died a couple months ago and I don’t think she’s totally herself yet. You remember what I was like when they left,” he reminded him, throwing another ringer.

Calvin nodded in agreement. Gardner had been changed forever when his parents abandoned him, but that first year was especially brutal. Tossing his shoe first, and getting a ringer, he asked, “You like her though?”

“Yeah, I really really do. I know I don’t actually know the real or normal her, but I swear sometimes I get these flashes of her and it’s like the sun coming out after a cloudy day,” he said, pausing to throw his last one; it spun around the peg before landing on top of the other two. “But she’s amazing all the time. She’s kind and trusting and giving and non judgmental.”

“Why do you always win?” Calvin muttered under his breath before responding. “Well, she sounds great. Good luck.”

The pattern continued with you and Gardner, although it ramped up in frequency. He started coming over almost every other day, and the next weekend, asked you to dinner at a restaurant in town. Although you’re a little apprehensive, since you know Gardner will be there for you, you agreed.

It’s a great night and the two of you ate and then walk around the river, talking for hours. That night, when you dropped him off at the boat, you asked to see it and he welcomed you gladly.

You shared your first kiss after he brought you inside. Gardner was unsure at first, but you just pulled him closer and he lost his nerves when you placed his hands on your waist and then ran your own through his hair.

After a little while of making out, you decided to leave, knowing you aren’t ready for anything else. Giving him a final peck on the lips, you climbed back out of the boat and drove home. That night, you slept in your own bed, making it all through the night and only waking up once.

From then on, the two of you split your time together at your house, his boat, and going places in town. About once a week, you joined him on his route for an hour or so.

Gardner made you laugh, but also knew when you’re especially missing your dad and talked to you about him so his memory could comfort you.

One night, after the fifth season finale of Star Trek, you and he were cuddling on the couch. You’re sitting upright and his head’s in your lap facing the ceiling. Your hand was moving in little circles on his upper arm and he’s watching your face as you watched the credits.

It was a scene that was not uncommon between the two of you, but Gardner can’t seem to be able to help himself as he breathed out, “I love you.”

Your eyes snapped to his, and though he might have wished you missed the words, you heard them loud and clear and were looking at him in a way he can’t decipher.

“You do?”

“Yeah, um, I do,” he said, averting his eyes from your gaze. He knew that it might be too soon, but once he had the thought, it left his brain through his mouth and there was nothing he could do about it.

Gardner’s cheeks and neck are blushing red as he looked away, but you moved your hand to their junction, and used his jaw to turn his face and eyes back to you.

“I love you too, Gardner,” you told him earnestly.

He sat up and turned to you, mouthing “really,” and you nodded. His hands moved to your face and you moved yours to the back of his neck. When he didn’t close the gap, you did, pulling him to you and kissing him softly to assure him of the meaning behind your words.

Life continued, and you relished the last two weeks of summer before you had to go back to school. Since it would only be a 30 minute commute, you decided to continue living at your dad’s house.

You started to move your things out of the garage and into the house, packing away things of your dad’s that hold less significance to make room.

There will still be bad days in the future, and you won’t know when they’re coming or how long they’ll be. But, you know you have Gardner to lean on, and while he can’t take away your pain, he can offer you some comfort as you deal with it.

★★★

Taglist: @somekindof-cheese @gwilyoubemine @deacytits @supersonicfreddie @siriuslovesmarlene @bowiequeen @acdeaky @deakysgirl @sunflower-borhap-boys @deakyfordays @queensilveryrog @happy-at-home @ceruleanrainblues

I just kinda created this taglist so if you would like to be taken off or added, just send me a message or ask!

Reminder that my requests are open! If you would like something in a sort of one shot format/length or blurb, etc. send it in! I’ll write for any of the Borhap or Queen boys (Freddie only platonically), Lucy, Patrick Murray, Gardner Langway and adult!Tim Murphy or possibly any of the other characters these people have played if I know enough about them!

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journalofasadperson · 5 years

Text

Writings from a sad person

2:56 September 14 2019

I really want to use the machete. And no! It’s not for cutting my self you sick bastard. Like I think about it, but it doesn’t mean I will do it . I hate when people assume things and assume I don’t have self control and that I am just “crazy”. I WONT DO IT JESUS CHRIST I CAN HEAR YOUR THINKING FROM HERE :< I want to use it for fun!! Like cutting plants! (More like weeds) it’s fun clearing things out

I think mum is trying to make feel better about eating watermelon with my mouth here in Peru

Damn not remembering must suck. But then again if I lost certain memories I wouldn’t mind.

I like the country side more. Hunting would be fun as long as the ecosystem needs it. Though I still wouldn’t kill bears :< it’s too sad. Unless they really are hurting others.

Ha ha oh ya the phone has destroyed everything :, ) lmao it has completely destroyed everything. And aw yes science going ahead and further is making more corruption. Aw yaaaaa 🙄🙄🙄 this guy I swear.

At this point I have been quiet for so long. This is the quietest I have ever been. I feel very mute. If I start talking no one will listen to what I say because of age and all that bullshit.

The people are nice. Very caring :). There are just certain things we don’t agree on.

Coming back to the city - 7:29pm same day

5:28 September 21

Going to go home at midnight! I talked to the mama and she was super sad. Talking about how she is forgetting things. I wonder if that will happen to me?

8:25 in Salvador (high up in the air) sept 22

So I saw a big burly man hugging his stuff animal (dog), rippoff Justin biber, and discounted Jesus. (also a latino version of captain sparkles)

2:25 pm in US,Seattle, Oct. 25

well, hello cool area! I am back to typing on this note. Because i am still sad as fuck. Or something. I can’t tell the difference. I’m just really.fucking.tired. I want to sleep. Sometimes I wonder if I want to sleep forever... you know I can see how my past self wanted to kill myself. I know most of my friends don’t feel indifferent but you know. When you are like this you think the opposite. I feel a lot of love from my best friends though. A few people from discord. I can’t wait to go to school next week. I want to get out of this fucking hell hole. I think I’m going non verbal. Which fucking sucksSUCCCKKKKKS! But oh well. I wonder if my brother cares at all. Like I know he does. But I guess not the yelling part sense I am 17. Gee thanks bro. I hate getting yelled at. I am very sick of it. I wished I did die. But I don’t want too. I just want to not get yelled at for being “stupid” or for being a “dumbass” but hey at least grandma and Ramiro don’t yell at me. I hate this feeling. I thought the whole yelling at me and telling me she was going to hit me would be gone by now. You know?? She only hit me once. And too used yell at me all the time. That’s why I hated middle school for a period... it fucking sucked, I hated going back home. I am always anxious. Like... can I even sit??? Or something? And they tell me you are being lazy or not doing things you should be doing. I should be doing something with the house or some shit. I get it bro, maintaining a house is fucking hard. I never said it was easy. FUCK nothing is easy and I hate how they think I think it’s easy. Of course fucking not. You think I am that inept. That I don’t care? Well fucking news flash! I do. This is why I have voices in my head ladies and gentlemen and non-binary lovelies! They remind me to do things and talk to me through things. They are very helpful at times. I should have stayed depressed... Maybe then I would be oh so fucking helpful. I need to get this out. Thank god for notes in my phone. Thank god for my phone in general. I would have died earlier with out it. Getting info on what self harm is and seeking communities for comfort is great. And learning is better on here anyways. So ya, fuck you.

10:53 am Oct 26

Mum said people would leave me if I am not more considerate. Aka better :) and love me haha.

I keep having nightmares

11:23 am

I am not feeling great. I am thinking suicidal again. I don’t like it. Every time I look at mom I get nervous..... I haven’t taken my meds.

Just took them. Maybe that why I am happier. Because I blocked out all those times she has yelled at me and belittled me. I don’t like remembering that.

...footsteps scare me

But anyways! Thank god for the meds! Helps me forget some of this shit! :)

(I know that’s not good but like what else I’m I supposed to do)

I can’t to go to LA and spend the rest of my life there. I want to live with my best friends! And have fun and not get yelled at!

11:48

Forget anything I said. I am going to forget and pretend none of this ever happened.

So I woke up! And I had nightmares! But that’s okay because I got to sleep in a little bit more! And I can’t wait to bake and me and my grandma are going to spend time together! :D and my mum is going to go with my brother!

10:32PM Oct. 28 2019

My old roommate Don epfaniyo came by. Got beaten up really fucking good. They kicked him, scratched him and punched him. He went to the hospital last night. Went there at 9:00PM? He said the fight started at 9:00PM. Probably the fight didn’t last that long. But fuck. He is not doing so hot right now. Both of his eyes are red and his skin looked like he was skidded on the pavement. They (don Carlos/epfaniyo and right now my roommate who is about to leave) are joking around. Glad they can still laugh, but that also means they are used to it. I hope his in law can find peace in his soul.

5:07pm Oct. 29 2019

Finished a doc appointment. It was super weird though. The nice pregnant lady kept asking me questions, like a lot of questions. Like if I was being abused at home or if I felt safe at home/ with myself. I wonder if I do look worse for wear... she was super nice though :) I’m glad I talked to her she didn’t judge me at all. I wish she was always my doctor. She asked me about my mental health and how I was doing at school. To be honest I don’t know if I lied. I tried my best to talk to her though. I have been having urges to kill myself I told her but I reassured her I wouldn’t because I have people that care about me. I don’t want them to be alone. I don’t want to die to be honest. I just want too move out and get more help. I want to explore more :) I can’t wait to leave. The next days will be tough because I won’t have my meds... first time I am without my meds. I don’t think things are going to go super good. But it’s going to be okay :D

7:38pm Nov 9

I guess I can’t fuck up with paco either. I get scolded for almost throwing up at his poop. And sneered at me saying “you can put away the bags right? You won’t vomit then?” Like geez woman I’m sorry I’m learning. Paco has been coughing a lot. And I don’t really wanna play because he has a fuck ton of more energy then me. He deserves a better family to be honest. Mum wanted this and I went along cause I wanted to give paco a good home and I thought maybe if he came things would get better. But why do I lie to myself.

God,maybe I am a fuck up.

9:10pm Nov 11

I feel like fucking shit. To be honest I don’t even know how to breathe some days and when I go to therapy I forget I was sad and not lie, but forget to write down I am wanting to die. I want to break everything I own and die. How can I function when my mum wants to tell me what do. Oh sorry forgetting about time because to me TIME IS NONEXISTNET FUCK YOU.I DONT HATE YOU I JUST DON’T SEE YOU ANYMORE

I wonder if this is why people kill themselves. Do I hate myself? I don’t I do. Logically its not my fault. I think anyways

Paco is being cute though. He is a nice distraction. GOD I hate that Carla was right about keeping a journal. Oh I forgot to mention abby is not interested in me. Which gives me so much closure! (I had no idea what her feelings were so like I do I proceed thy friendship lmao)I am thankful for having good friends. I just wish I didn’t see everyone like npc though. I feel like they are npc because I don’t know. I am glad paco is here, he lights up the place even though he poops EVERYWHERE. lol. Anyways I keep hearing the voices sometimes really strong other times I feel like going crazy. Like actual crazy none of that fake shit. Like fuck man. I go into this mind palace and force all my frustration there.i am allowed to go crazy I am allowed to scream and walk around the streets singing/dancing/talking to myself.its fun I am allowed to break bottles and walk around with my mother worrying about me. She is not there in that plane she is at home not worrying about me.

The song of the day Good day by BTS

Keep fighting

9:25pm Nov 12

I FEEL FUCKING LONELY…. I will try talking to someone?

10:10 pm Nov 19

If I could I would kill myself.

I fuck up everything

There is no use for me anymore

I fucked Elvis over and they tell me not to tell them.

I made them depressed

I shouldn’t be breathing right now

I should be dead

Talking to my ancestors

I wish I could kill myself

But I have to get to California first.

Feb 10 Mon 8:00pm

All I remember is the quiet loudness. When parasite won and Taika Waititi won an Oscar. The same road I took where I died. My mind trapped needlessly in a hold where it can’t climb out of.

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