#please dont say anything about the ada office background thing

[the-sole-macgyver]

This has been rattling in my brain for a while and I didn’t know what react blog to bring it to and I just found yours and well- romanced companions finding out Nate was abusive to F!Sole? Either physically or just emotionally/mentally or both but like it’s been haunting me

Is that so? Well, don’t you worry Anon, I’m here to exorcise that little angst ghost haunting your brain with my sweet ass writing skills.

Prompt:Romanced!companions react to finding out F!Sole was abused by their husband.

Excluded companions:Codsworth,Dogmeat,Strong and Ada. For obvious reasons

Notes: 1.if there are any characters, e.g. : faction leaders or let’s say synth!Codsworth that anyone would like to be included please feel free to ask!

2. i dont know anything about old american law pertaining to abuse other than a quick google search.

3.I have tried to be as respectful as possible regarding this subject, but if anything i have written here comes off uninformed or disrespectful in anyway please let me know, thank you.

Warnings: mentions of abuse- both physical and mental, alcohol use, drug use, swearing under cut, this has also been tagged for easy avoidance. 

Cait:“what did you mean when ya said ya was proud of me?” usually Cait wouldn’t bat an eye at Sole’s use of words when they were complimenting her or giving her affirmation, she’d flush, but she was used to it enough by now that it didn’t catch her wholly off guard like it used to. But Sole’s encouraging and somewhat wishful smile as she’d said that to Cait had always left her wondering, there was something there and what better time to broach the subject then while they were getting ready to call it a day from building defences, the new turrets they’d installed for the Abernathys humming in the background.

Sole sighed then, looking out at the scorched landscape in apparent thought, before she glanced back up at Cait and looked away just quickly “I just, I wish I’d been as strong as you, back then. With Nate.” the last part was said in a hushed, shamed little voice, her hand going to touch her face as if to wipe away some unseen blemish - in a way that had Cait’s hackles raise in indignation “Darlin’? Look at me.” she waited for Sole to come back to herself, to look her in the eyes, and hopefully not notice how she shook with rage at the implication. “Sole. You are one o’ the most fooken’ strongest people I ‘av ever met, whatever he did to you, however he made you feel, know that it don’t define you, that I don’t think any less of you, you hear?” that earned her a slight nod from Sole and, with a strained smile she led Sole back to the farm, it was getting dark and Sole had been working non-stop. There’d be time later, when they had more privacy and Sole was more rested to talk.

Curie:She was always fascinated with Sole, the way she talked and fought for what she believed was right, the way she could move around the battle field so stealthily and cared enough and took the time to teach Curie how to as well always left her with that fluttery feeling in her stomach that was what she believed to be called “butterflies”. Stealth didn’t come naturally to her, not being used to having legs and feet that could make a suprising amount of noise if placed wrong - unlike the quiet continuous hum of a thruster - it had her hyper-aware of Sole and the advice she gave while they were out exploring the Commonwealth, it was on one of these outings, while they were sneaking passed a group of raiders that were holding Caravan Traders hostage that they came across some old, dilapidated wooden stairs, Curie was sure this would pose a problem for them but Sole simply told her to stick as close to the wall as possible while ascending. She marveled at the surprizing lack of noise when they reached the top without a squeak and hid so Sole could plan their next move. She hadn’t meant to ask how a woman who was a lawyer was so good at being quiet, she supposed it was just another quirk of her new body- asking questions unconsciously.

Sole had frowned then, biting her lip and looking at Curie the way she did when she wasn’t sure if she should say something in front of her, it took a moment before Sole finally gave in “Nate was an….unplesant drunk, it paid in the long run to be able to move around the house quietly, especially the stairs…untill we moves to Sanctuary that is..” Sole said this in an even tone, the kind she used when dodging details or putting families at ease over the state of their loved ones passing, though Curie understood the implications she hadn’t understood her own emotional response, was it panic? she wasn’t sure and by the time she had collected herself the conversation was over, Sole already going over their next move- the way she did when she was dodging questions.

Deacon:“You know” she’d laughed, the hoarse kind of laugh that comes from the chest and had Deacon looking at her dubiously. They’d both been drinking - not quite five-sheets-to-the-wind drinking but tipsy enough-, sharing stories and jokes up in the steeple of the old north church, away from the rest of HQ but close enough to make a quick appearance if they were needed. The perfect place for that false sense of privacy.

“You know, Nate he- Nate used to say, he used to say to me- he’d say ‘Sole, you can’t do anything without me’ and that I ’needed him’ but, look!” She gestured wildly at the world below them and didn’t elaborate on what she’d done, he’d been there from day one more or less and had a pretty good grasp on her current list of accomplishments, so to be fair she didn’t need too. “Isn’t that just- isn’t it funny?” She laughed then too, the kind of wet laugh that came from the bottom of the throat and had his stomach twisting, he didn’t know what to say, what could he say? Jokes wouldn’t make this better. In the end he opted on pulling her into an embrace-not a hug- so that his chin rested on top of her head. It was the kind of laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all, it was the kind of laugh Deacon would do anything not to have her make again, for as long as she’d have him around, and probably longer.

John Hancock: He’d felt like scum the first time it had occurred to him that he was relived Nate was dead, because there was no way Sole would have chosen him over her husband. He’d promised himself he would never mention that to Sole though, he didn’t want to upset her or, God forbid, chase her away with his own insecurities regarding her late husband. And he didn’t have a problem with keeping it to himself, even when they were chemed out and lounging on the couch in his office, he’d used long enough to keep his thoughts to himself when he needed too. Sole, on the other hand, had not and as she was blissed out, head lying on Hancock’s chest and body pleasantly heavy she’d murmured something into the ruffles of his dress shirt.

“Hm?, What was that sunshine?” he nudged her gently so she’d lift, or rather roll, her head to the side so he could hear her. “I said, I love you so much” her lazily mumbled confession put a dopey smile on his face that he couldn’t blame the chems for “I used to love Nate too, but now I don’t think he loved me as much as he said he did” and that wiped the smile off his face just as quickly “Whaddya mean by that?” he scooted up the couch slightly as he said this, just enough to get a better look at her face “He used to say he loved me, but then he’d, he’d just hurt me, and then he’d say that it was my fault, that I made him do those things. You say you love me, and you don’t hurt me, so I think maybe he didn’t love me all that much” she said this in that matter-of-fact way people do when they’re out of it and come to a seemingly obvious conclusion and with that revelation, He held her tighter-snuggling further into the couch and placing a kiss on her cheek.

Hancock wasn’t ashamed to admit he was glad that Nate was dead now, he only regretted not being able to put the bastard down himself.

Nick Valentine:There had been whispers back when the old Nick was alive and though Sanctuary Hills was a bit out of his jurisdiction, and he was drowning in his own grief with the Eddie Winter case, he’d still heard the rumours. He’d heard about how an ex-military type, a supposed war hero had been brought in for a “Domestic disturbance”. But those were different times and though the old Nicks heart had bled for the poor soul this apparent “hero” was going home to, there was nothing he could legally do and, as it often was the case back then, no charges were brought against the man- the whole thing bar the rumours being swept under the rug.

Nowadays Nick usually felt a sense of accomplishment when putting a person to a case, like things were slotting into place, letting him see the bigger picture. But seeing Sole, eyes red and body shaking as she poured out her past lives grievances to him, he felt tired and restless at once, and angry. Mostly he was angry, though whether that was at Nate for doing it or old Nick for not doing something or at the whole damn system for letting it happen he couldn’t say. What he could do now, though, was be there for her, he could try to help her through it now, and he would, he would do something.

Paladin Danse:He’d noticed early on that Sole couldn’t look him in the eye when he talked to her, how she’d shrink away if he stepped too close to her or moved too quickly. At first he simply thought she was intimidated, as the Brotherhood’s presence in the Commonwealth was new and to be fair a man in full power armour was an intimidating sight if you weren’t used to it. Then she’d done the same with Rhys, then later on with Elder Maxson himself and though it had been odd in the paladins opinion that such a capable woman, a woman who had flung herself into a hoard of ferals to assist strangers without batting an eye, would recoil the moment someone talked to her, yet he found himself making excuses for her, after all, Rhys could be abrasive and Elder Maxson had a presence about himself that took some getting used to. And eventually she did get better, with him at least, not good but better.

When his..Synthetic truth had been revealed, and, despite the situation they were in as she stood between him and certain death,her head held high holding Maxson’s gaze, her voice firm, he felt proud that she’d managed despite the fact such things did not come easy to her.

Things were better between them now, much better in fact - without rank making things awkward they could finally treat each other as equals without favoritism being a problem. It was in one of their rare moments alone that she told him, she told him of Nate and his military presence, of his authoritarianism. Dance had once been sure that he could never hate a man more than he did ghouls and mutants and synths, and later he had been sure he could never hate anyone as much as he hated himself. Now he was certain he’d never hate anyone, living or dead as much as he hated Nate.

Porter Gage:”Nate used to hit me.” she said it in that nonchalant way she said most things, but Gage had been around her long enough to know some of her tells, like the way she set her jaw and squared her shoulders. Still the Overboss, still intimidating, but there was an opening, a vulnerability that only he was privy too, the kind that only came with the trust that who you were talking to wasn’t going to stab you in the back the minute it was bared to them.

He snorted, even the idea of someone trying that shit on the woman standing next too him seamed absurd, there wasn’t a raider in Nuka-world that wouldn’t cower at her feet“ Yeh?, bet if he tried that now you’d splatter ‘im up the wall, there’d be nothin’ left of him, ‘sept pulp!” that got a smile out of her, and from the way her shoulders relaxed he could tell he’d hit the nail on the head, her entire demeanour changing to one that said she owned the place, and he wasn’t going to argue with it, “Fuck him.” he affirmed, nodding his head to really get his point across. “Yeah, fuck him.” her voice was stronger this time, and Gage was sure that any residual anger she had over the subject would be put to good use on their next raid. 

Post was getting long, Piper, Preston, Old Longfellow and X6-88 will be added on as a re-blog! ( I just have to proof read them first!)

{EDIT} I’ve just noticed half of Maccreadys has been cut off, I’m taking the rest away and will re-post the whole thing later on the re-blog! 

Addendum:I do not have a beta reader and I am dyslexic, I do proof read everything but am bound to make mistakes- and I would like to apologise in advance for any I have missed.

[curiousconch]

Sobering Truth

Chapter 10 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: After the fallout of Rafael and Heather, what could this mean to Bryce and the recovering doctor? 

Pairing: Rafael Aveiro x MC (Dr. Heather Song) | Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song)

Words: 2.1k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / hints of past violent experience and sex

Author's Notes: Almost is Never Enough by Ariana Grande and Nathan Skyes was the perfect song for this chapter, the lyrics are very fitting. Also, watch out for a cameo from a PM character 😊

Thank you so much for taking time to read this series. Please let me know if you want me to include/remove you in the tags list. Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song and an OC Jordan Anderson.

Bryce found himself hunched alone in a bar stool downtown Boston. He swirled the brown liquid in his glass, brows furrowed in remembering the scene in the hospital room. 

His face contorted with the pain piercing through his chest, the possibility of losing Heather once again sinking like a sword. He racked his mind for an option, but it seems all is lost in that battle.

He thought back to their last outing together, and he was so certain that something was there. So why did she choose to stay with someone else instead of being with him?

His lips formed a thin line, his hand rubbing over his face in frustration. The emotions within turbulent and unnerving. Was he just too much of a fool when he thought he had a shot with her? 

This is exactly why Bryce Lahela didn't want to commit. It was far more easier for him to seek momentary connections rather than build permanent ones. He didn't want to relive the rejections-filled past from his adolescence, at the time of his parents' criminal convictions. 

Yet here he was again, suffering the same consequences of wanting something permanent in his life. Something that could bring him happiness. Something better than him being alone in the middle of a crowd of drunken patrons. 

He should've stayed in his own lane of hook-ups and one night stands instead of chasing for this relationship. 

So the first thing he did when he realized that that door is closing, was to go back to his old stomping grounds. 

But why can't he will himself to look around? 

As if on queue, an olive-skinned woman slid herself beside him, her sudden presence invading his thoughts. With a half-smirk and green catty eyes, the coils of dark hair loosely wrapping her head. The mere sight of her was mesmerizing. 

"I know you," she said, almost in a purr. 

Bryce looked back at her, and a long-forgotten heat warmed him up. And it wasn't because of the alcohol in his system.

"I guess my reputation is my charm," he replied, leaning forward. He loosened his tie whilst sipping from his glass. 

"Oh I know all about your reputation," her voice made him shiver, her fingers ever slowly trailing a path towards his arm. "You're the one with magic hands," she whispered, her brows dancing as she spoke. 

This commanding woman was pushing his buttons in all the right places, her sparkly black cocktail dress that clung on her body tightly wasn't making him feel suddenly parched. 

Her hand continued to venture up his arm, and eventually the side of his neck. As it followed the line of his jaw, Bryce couldn't help but lean closer. 

Nothing was stopping him at the moment. 

Miles away from being sober, his lips blew a short burst of air into the woman's bare neck, after which he got the chance to breathe in a whiff of her perfume. 

The jasmine scent was all too familiar. It conjured the image of the woman who Bryce fled away from tonight. 

Heather. 

Snapping out of the trance, he took a step back. Gone was the sexual tension that floated in the air mere seconds ago. Bryce only shook his head to the woman and paid his tab, before almost sprinting out into the cold rain that continued to flood the concrete pavement. 

He let the drops of water wash all over him until he was soaked. With it, the inevitable tears began to fall, which he didn't hold back. He also didn't mind how it easily reduced the numbing effect of the bottle of Jack Daniels that he just consumed. 

Like a thief in the night, the woman of his dreams snatched what was left of Bryce's vulnerable heart. He knew, deep down, that it would take a long time before he can get it back. 

*** 

"Breaking news. Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson pleads guilty as co-conspirators of the kidnapping of Senator Ed Farrugia and Edenbrook doctor Heather Song."

"This is following an intensive investigation by the joint special task force created as the public clamored to protect Massachusetts famed senator. 

"We are joined today by one of the victims, Senator Ed Farrugia, after he gave his testimony today at the Boston courthouse."

The video flicked from a female news anchor to the steps of the city's courthouse, where the politician was joined by Chief DA Tanaka. Heather's hazel eyes however wasn't on the prominent people in the screen, but instead drawn to the tall figure standing beside the older man, his intimidating stature made more pronounced by the sharp gray suit that contoured just enough to please.

Bryce. 

Saying his name, even in her mind, made her involuntarily shudder with regret, aware that between them was an undeniable attraction that she just couldn't shake off. Ever since her kidnapping, she couldn't stop herself from thinking about what could've been. Was it just too late for them? Will it only remain a connection that can never be explored? Will it ever be something more? She knew, deep down, if she could change the world overnight, she wanted to try. If there was anything she could learn from her almost dying, it was the sobering truth that life was too short to be restrained by inaction.

But she hadn't been able to speak to him for a while now. He didn't answer his phone nor returned any of her texts or messages. She hoped to get the chance when she was scheduled for her recorded testimony. To her dismay, another ADA visited her and took her witness account. 

She thought he was just busy with the case, but she sensed that he was avoiding her altogether. Her free time provided her so many hours to rack her brain for the reason why. To this day, that question was left unanswered. 

Danny raised his gaze to Heather, as he felt her pulse beat faster than normal. He turned to the TV monitor in the hospital room, stifling a chuckle as he found the reason behind her palpitations.

"Let's try to do this again," Danny said, making Heather's attention swivel to him. 

"Why? Something wrong?" she asked, obviously confused. 

This time, Danny snickered, grabbing the remote from her and switched the channel. The gesture was enough to make her fluster as it dawned on her what the nurse was insinuating. 

"I can't put your last BPM on your chart, Heather. We dont want Dr. Ramsey to not sign off on your discharge papers today. Two weeks of him pestering us is enough torture to last a lifetime," he scoffed jokingly, referencing how the senior attending relentlessly chased the hospital staff to put her case on priority. 

She curtly nodded, her mentor's crass actions embarrassing her further. 

"Thanks, Danny." she sheepishly smiled, hoping the two words were enough to express her appreciation of how the hospital helped her get back on her feet during the roughest period of her life yet. 

Danny returned her gesture, before getting back to taking her pulse. Satisfied, he recorded it to the clipboard in his hand, as her friends thundered into the room. 

Sienna, Elijah, Jackie and Aurora all stepped inside, each carrying an assortment of food items. They moved their Sunday brunch to that day in celebration of Heather's discharge. The welcome noise warmed her heart, their usual banter flowing like music to her ears. 

The thundering of her deep-seated emotions momentarily toned down, as she enjoyed the company of the small family she found in Edenbrook. 

Outside, the weather was warm with no clouds threatening to dampen the surroundings. 

It was going to be a good day. 

*** 

As the last of the questions were addressed and the cameras were turned away, Bryce sighed in relief. 

With the news crews dispersed, Chief Tanaka left to head back to the DA's office, leaving him as second chair to wrap up all the remaining paperwork. He strutted into the courthouse, the ADA facade well in effect. 

It was an understatement to say that the past few weeks were hectic. 

Interviewing Declan Nash and Jordan Anderson was like being pulled into opposite poles. Their personalities were so polarizingly different that Bryce suspected that there was a more to the case than what appears. 

So he advised the special task force to dig into that angle. The FBI's investigation is still ongoing, and he is betting against it finishing soon. 

Today was a day of accomplishments, and Bryce's mood was better than it was ever since that night. Or so he thought. 

As his mind shifted back into the present, he caught the unwelcome sight of Agent Rafael Aveiro conversing with someone in the hallways. He managed to hear a glimpse of the conversation as they got into earshot. 

"You're background would be invaluable to us, Agent Rafael," the strange man in the tweed-colored jacket said. 

"This is such a timely offer that I couldn't refuse. I'll let you know as soon as I wrap up my last case." Bryce heard Raf say. 

"Of course. But please don't keep us in the Interpol on our toes, Agent." 

"Of course, Agent Nazario." 

Taken aback, he stopped, trying to understand what had just transpired. Why was Rafael taking a job with the interpol? 

Once Bryce saw that the special investigator was alone, he approached him, words blazing. 

"Interpol? Seriously, Raf, this soon?" 

Raf turned to face him, surprised at Bryce's sudden interjection. 

"I don't see the need to explain myself to you, ADA Lahela." He politely said as he begun to walk away. 

"But you just got back together! Why leave for an overseas job this soon when she needs you the most?" Bryce's voice rose, echoing into the nearly full hallway. He honestly didn't mind, weeks worth of bottled up frustration threatening to surface. 

A more puzzled expression filled Rafael's face, the line of interrogation making him turn around and stare back at the prosecutor. 

Rafael recognized the look on Bryce's face. It was a mirror of his own haunted reflection. Of a lost love, never to return. The confusion gave way to understanding. 

It made him soften his stance, and place a brotherly hand on the lawyer's shoulder. 

"Look, I don't know why you think that, but Heather and I..." he paused, taking a deep breath as he tried to bury the painful memory of their goodbye into the back of his mind. "We broke up. The same night that she was admitted to Edenbrook after her kidnapping, we talked and agreed to go our separate ways." 

Bryce couldn't believe what he was hearing, his knees weakening with the revelation. Amber eyes widened in shock and feeling like an idiot at the same time. 

He smiled despite himself, the nightmares of his imaginary rejection transformed into a wonderful dream. The door that he thought was closed is now unlocking, and he was determined to blow it wide open. 

With a hasty thank you and goodbye to Raf, he turned the soles of his leather shoes and raced to the door of the courthouse. 

Bryce didn't dare waste another minute to look back. 

Tags: @ramsey-lahela @eleanorbloom @openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations