i hate to wait so long
pairing: seungmin x gn!reader w. 1.9k
genre: fluff
summary: your long-distance boyfriend's birthday is coming up but you don't have the funds to visit him this year. surprisingly, seungmin turns up to your door anyways.
warnings: reader is a uni student studying abroad
a/n: inspired by the lyrics of this song :)
Choosing to study abroad was a good idea in concept. You got to travel and live in another country's culture for a semester as you worked on your degree.
That was, until you got a boyfriend. He lived back at home and you reconnected over old friends when you were first packing to leave. He'd come over to your place and hang out, playing video games and teasing you when you couldn't lift a moving box without help. Not that he could, either.
His name was Seungmin. He asked you out one week before you left for the semester, and it was the best week you'd had in a long time. You spent almost every day together, hanging out and trying new things until you got tired and crashed at each other's places.
When that first week came to a close, you begrudgingly packed up your things. Seungmin drove you to the airport, holding your hand as far into the airport as he could come with you.
It was through a teary-eyed confession from him that revealed he'd never felt closer to someone before than he did with you. He was too scared of saying goodbye and asked to be your boyfriend, even if he was terrified of moving too fast.
When you agreed, he was using his sleeve to rub his eyes and denied ever crying. He told you to have a safe trip and he kissed you for the first time, promising a million more the next time he saw you.
You thought about that moment every day. Sitting at a desk doing work had never felt more dull, especially when you had a perfect boyfriend waiting for you at home. Life abroad wasn't bad, you were loving it, you just missed him more.
Every night, you stayed up to call him and tell him all about your day-to-day. He'd hop on his computer and play video games with you until the sun peeked over the horizon or you resigned to sleep.
When you weren't calling each other, you texted the whole rest of your waking hours. Seungmin would send a plethora of random photos from his day and complain about his band mates while you responded with your own pictures and advice.
It was starting to occur to you how close it was getting to September, which meant Seungmin's birthday was just around the corner. You had already decided on gifts, ready to buy them so they'll be delivered right on time.
But, it dawned on you pretty fast that you didn't have the money to visit. Studying in another country was really expensive and there was only so much time in a day you could work outside of school. Either way, there was no miracle budget to make it possible.
You told him this almost immediately, and he was extremely good about it. He reassured you that it wasn't necessary and he'd make up for all the lost time soon enough when you were done.
The remaining weeks between then had been full of assignments and deadlines coming up, so it snuck up on you. You'd been on a call with Seungmin the night before playing Overwatch when you looked down at the date on your computer.
"What time is it? Lemme- oh, shit." You stopped mid sentence, staring at the date on your computer screen in awe.
Seungmin looked confused, his webcam up on your second screen. "What's wrong? Do I need to back out of the queue?"
"No, no," You shook your head, laughing nervously, "I just saw the date. Your birthday's tomorrow."
"Don't tell me you forgot," Seungmin looked a little dumbfounded.
"I didn't forget, I just.. I've had a lot going on these past few weeks that September kinda went a little too fast."
"It's okay," Seungmin reassured, "I'll forgive you when I get to open the pile of gifts you've been sending me tomorrow morning."
"I wish I could be there to see it," You lamented.
"It's alright. You'll be able to give me them all in person next year, right?"
"Right! Plus, I'll be able to give you Christmas gifts at least."
At that moment, you connected to a game and the topic of conversation switched. The thought of missing his birthday lingered in the back of your mind, but you pushed it away in order to enjoy the night with your boyfriend.
As the night was coming to a close, you made sure to wish him a happy birthday right as the clock rolled over to midnight. It wouldn't be out of the ordinary to stay up another three hours, but Seungmin decided to go to bed early and you followed in his footsteps.
Sleeping was nice. It was one of the times you could see Seungmin. He was almost always there waiting for you with a smile on his face. You could do anything together, just in a fantasy land. Maybe he wasn't really there, but it was enough to keep you going.
That night, you laid with him in bed. Your head was on his chest over a soft sweater as he sung to you. It was the first time in a while you'd dreamed of his room, bringing back all of the fond memories from before you'd left. His posters, guitar sat against his record collection, all his bookshelves. His diary was even on the nightstand beside his bed, true to life.
You almost hated waking up. The world was cruel for taking away the perfect dream it had crafted, but you knew soon enough you'd be in his room again.
Seungmin's birthday fell on a Sunday this year, so you didn't worry too much about waking up early. When you did inevitably get up, you made sure to text him a few more 'happy birthday' messages just in case he forgot about it himself. He was already up, thanking you for the birthday wishes and sending you a photo of his outfit.
It wasn't really his style to be awake and ready this early in the day, but it was his birthday. He has to make the most of his special day, you thought. So, you sent back some compliments and hearts and moved on with your own morning routine.
As you normally would, you kept Seungmin updated through texts on your morning. He wasn't super chatty, but it was to be expected with whatever he had planned. You expected to see a wall of text on what he was up to by the end of the day, but for now it was quiet.
By noon, you had gotten a little concerned, but brushed it off. His family likely had things to do with him, right? Plus, he had to get in some good meals.
It was almost one in the afternoon when you finally heard back from him. Seeing his name on your phone screen gave you an instant feeling of relief.
seungmin: come outside
You heard a knock at your door. The text had you confused, but you followed along. He couldn't be here, right?
Opening the door, there he stood. He was grinning ear-to-ear, shifting around on his feet. "Surprise."
It was on instinct that you threw your arms around him and hugged him with all the weight in your body. His wrapped around you and squeezed you back until you were wincing from the pressure.
"What are you doing here?!" You looked at him dumbfounded, your head spinning.
He looked back at you sheepishly, "I dunno, just thought it'd be cool if I showed up for a birthday surprise?"
"Yeah, but it's your birthday, Seungmin. That's the kind of thing I should be doing on your special day!"
"Well, I knew you didn't have enough to come visit this year, and I made it work! I really didn't want to wait so long to see you again."
You laced your fingers with his and pulled him inside, and that's when the explanation started.
Seungmin had first come up with the idea to come visit on his birthday almost a month prior when he first learned you couldn't come see him. He'd booked a flight out and made sure there wasn't any huge exams around the day.
That morning, he'd gotten up at six just to get ready and look good in time to catch his flight. He'd sent you photos he'd taken earlier when he was sitting in the airport, hoping it didn't look too suspicious.
The absence in texts was his flight over. It wasn't super long, but it was enough that he worried you'd catch onto his plan. From there, he'd gathered his stuff as quickly as he could and grabbed a ride over to your place.
After his story, you made sure to get him some food and snacks, which you happily enjoyed together as he turned on a show. He got a small tour of your student accommodation after the first episode before revealing that he had some plans set up.
Seungmin had made lunch reservations at a place not too far off campus and wanted to take you on a walk there. Of course, you said yes.
The entire way there, Seungmin refused to let go of your hand. He'd swing it along with your steps, chattering on about what was happening and the music he was making. But, no matter what, his fingers were locked with yours.
That was the fun part: Seungmin wasn't usually a big talker. He'd have lots of input to give when you would talk to him, but he wasn't super into initiating his own discussions. Today was different.
So as you walked down the cracked pavement of the sidewalks, your attention was grabbed by your chatty boyfriend. You got to engage with a lot of what he was saying, but it was nice to just walk and listen to him ramble.
Everything seemed more lively. The birds had their own chorus, the grass looked greener, and there were less loud cars blaring their music. By the time you were coming up on the lunch spot, you found your heart contented with the day already, even if you'd only been with Seungmin less than two hours.
"Minnie?" You squeezed his hand softly as you waited at a sidewalk.
Seungmin turned towards you with a smile on his face. "Yeah?"
"Thank you for coming and seeing me," You felt your face flush a little at the thought, "I really don't know how I could've waited any longer without you."
Your boyfriend's big grin couldn't be contained as he let out a quiet laugh. "I don't think I could've waited, either. You've been in my dreams too much lately, and it's been driving me crazy not having you here."
"You see me in your dreams, too?" You asked, recalling the one from the previous night, "It's kind of infuriating, isn't it? It feels so perfect and then it's taken away so quick."
"Yeah, I just couldn't wait another day without having you here with me," Seungmin stopped as you crossed to the other side of the street before pulling you into a hug, "I had to hold you like this for real."
"You're such a dork."
Seungmin snickered as he pulled away from the hug and gave you a quick, yet tender kiss. His lips were soft and tasted sweet, making you miss them the second they were gone. "For you. The rest of the world doesn't matter to me."
"Today really has you in a sentimental mood, huh?" You pulled him in for another kiss, making sure it lasted longer. "Happy birthday."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's go get lunch before you make out with me on the street."
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Stars all aligned - Chapter 1
Summary:
If there was one thing that both Azriel and Zahra Archeron had in common, it was that they were both very good at blending into the background.
They just never thought that their family were going to be the ones who never saw them at all.
Warning:
Bashing of like...every IC member? I think Rhys gets the worst though, definitely disordered eating, kinda depression?, isolation
(Lovely dividers thanks to @sweetmelodygraphics)
He found her deep inside the House of Wind. Far enough from the festivities of Starfall that it was startling to find her.
The second oldest Archeron Sister must have wandered off just like he had.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” Azriel asked her as he spied her sitting in a puddle of her skirts on one of the couches, staring at the empty fireplace.
“Why aren’t you?” Zahra gave back drily, not even looking up at him.
What exactly was he supposed to answer to that? Oh, I can't stomach watching your sister dance with her mate? And even if I could stomach that, Rhys's mental commentary to him about it had turned his stomach. Even when Azriel had kept away from Elain just like Rhysand had ordered him to do, ever since last year. So really...what was he supposed to answer?
“Dancing isn’t exactly my favourite activity,” Azriel finally replied. It wasn’t a lie.
"Yeah, well, mine neither," she answered with a shrug. "Not that I ever learned."
"You never learned?" he asked surprised. Nesta had learned. Elain had learned.
"Bastard, remember?" Zahra said drily. "I am lucky that I got to learn how to read and write and do basic math. I was not going to be molded into a perfect lady, because no self-respecting man would marry me anyway."
The blunt way Zahra was talking stunned Azriel momentarily. There was something harsh, something almost...bitter and resentful in her voice as she spoke.
It seemed like it didn't matter if one was born a bastard in Illyria or the Human lands. It was horrible either way.
"Your sisters will miss you," he said instead quietly. "And you'll miss the spectacle."
"I don't really care for the festivities," she said with another shrug. "I don’t like the holidays. Humans don’t have any. We… they are too busy trying to survive," Zahra corrected herself quietly. "And besides, I am only here anyway so I don't end up being an indentured servant until some of you decide that I am back in your good graces,” she gave back caustically.
He grimaced. That Zahra had vehemently disagreed about their treatment of Nesta was well known.
It had surprised him too because it was just as just as well known that Nesta seemed to not care for her half-sister on a good day. They weren't particularly close, in any way, shape or form.
Something in his chest clenched painfully. Not from the insult she threw in his direction, but from the defeated way she said it. That she thought that they would just…toss her aside like that.
She was one of them.
"We won't," he said firmly. Her eyes slowly turned toward him and there were dark shadows in those eyes. Out of all the Archeron Sisters, she was the only one with green eyes. Azriel wondered if she had inherited them from her late mother.
Zahra was only the half-sister after all. The result of her father’s dalliance with a maid. Her age put her somewhere between Nesta and Elain.
It was easy enough to pick out the differences between Nesta, Elain and Feyre and Zahra. Dark hair similar to Elain’s, but green eyes. Skin a few shades darker than any of theirs. Lips that looked like Feyre’s but a nose that looked like none of her sisters.
Zahra seemed to belong but didn’t.
And right now, these green eyes…something was wrong. Something was off with these eyes.
"You don’t know that," she said with a humourless laugh. "Do you want to lie to me too, and tell me that Rhysand has nothing to do with whatever happened between Elain and you?"
Azriel stiffened, a low sound escaping his throat. She knew. She knew.
"How did you-" he croaked hoarsely and Zahra cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Do you really think that I hadn't noticed the two of you dancing around each other for months? Or the fact that you two can barely manage to be in the same room together?" she asked dryly and Azriel averted his gaze. "There is no one as beautiful and kind as my sister," Zahra said drily. "I don't fault you for falling for her."
Azriel said nothing, the pain in his chest growing at her words. The pain...and the bitter realization that his feelings were not as well-hidden as he had thought they were.
"It doesn't matter," he said quietly. "She has a mate. She deserves better than me anyway."
"Did Rhysand tell you that too?" Zahra said drily. "You never tried to hide the fact that your mate was dying from the same, so you have that on him."
Azriel gritted his teeth, the pain in his chest becoming almost unbearable. "It doesn’t matter," he repeated firmly, the words tasting like ash in his mouth. "Elain is happy. I would do nothing to put that in danger."
"Yes, she is," Zahra agreed. "For what it's worth, I am sorry," she apologised to him, her voice honest.
Azriel swallowed, the pain in his chest lessening only to be replaced by something else. Something...much more complicated. Something like…pity.
He pitied her. This young female was so full of bitterness. He couldn’t even fault her for it either. She had been just a bastard. Even when they had first met the Archeron Sisters…Zahra had been working in the household as a maid. Half employee, half part of the family. Like their father couldn’t make up his mind what he should do with his bastard daughter.
"You don't have anything to apologise for," Azriel finally told her quietly. "Do you really not want to watch?" he asked her. "You are supposed to wish for something when you see the stars fall."
She snorted, the sound bitter. "What I want, I am never going to get," Zahra said, her voice brittle.
He took her in in more detail at that moment.
The simple green gown she wore, high necked and long sleeved...that long gown that did little to hide how thing she was. The dark brown hair, pulled into a braid, obviously trying to hide the pointed tips of her ears and failing...the way her skin, darker than all of her sisters, was nearly ashen.
They had all thought that she was doing well. That Zahra at least was adjusting well.
But she wasn't. She wasn’t doing better. She hadn't adjusted. Azriel would bet anything that all she wanted in her life was to be human again.
She hadn't adjusted. She just acted in a way that didn't bother anybody, that didn’t spell trouble for anybody. Zahra had gotten herself a job, managing the accounting at an apothecary in the city. She had gotten herself a little cottage to rent. She didn’t go out and get drunk. She didn’t use any money from Rhys or Feyre. She showed up for family dinners, staying quiet and polite.
And if she was miserable…well, then nobody cared, because she didn’t bother anybody. Azriel could understand that. The same was the case for him.
Azriel clenched his jaw, watching her quietly sitting here. The way she was trying to hide away. The dress that was more like a potato sack than anything else. The way her skin was almost...grey. That bitter voice.
The shadows were stirring and he was unable to look away from her. She looks upset, Master, they told him helpfully.
"Do you want to go home?" Azriel offered quietly. Home to her cottage? Maybe some peace and quiet would make her feel better.
Zahra shrugged, not looking at him. Not giving him an inch. That wall of bitterness and sarcasm was so firmly in place, that it was practically a solid wall between them.
“Don’t want to end like an indentured servant, remember?“ she quipped drily.
“You won’t,“ Azriel said evenly. “You had a headache. I brought you home.“
She still didn’t look at him, her hands tightly knotted into her skirts as she sat there. She was so thin, almost fragile-looking. Her skin was sickly grey. “Come on,” he said finally, walking towards her.
Zahra finally looked up at him. Those green eyes. A bitter and lonely light in them. “What are you doing?“ she muttered.
“I’m bringing you home,” he said simply, holding out his hand. “Come on, get up.“
Zahra looked at his hand, her gaze wary. “Why?“ she asked quietly.
“Because you look like you are about to keel over,” he said, more bluntly than intended.
“Gee, thanks,” she said dryly, her voice sarcastic and bitter. But she placed her hand into his own and let him pull her to her feet, even though he could feel the tension in her entire body.
Azriel wrapped his arm around her shoulders, steadying her. “Come on. Let’s get you home and into bed,” he said firmly.
He led her towards the balcony, the last few streaks of light painting the sky, and he grasped her tightly as they shout these few feet into the air until he could winnow to the cottage she rented.
It’s ugly, the shadows complained.
He had to agree with them. The cottage was an ugly little thing. Plain. Small. The type of thing that was more of a hovel in the outskirts, rather than anything else.
“Home sweet home,“ Zahra said dryly, pulling away from him and a key out of her purse.
That cottage was in serious need of some renovations when the red paint that was flaking off the door was anything to go by.
As she unlocked the door it became obvious that while she kept it clean and neat.. even that couldn’t help much. This is a hovel, the shadows hissed.
Azriel was inclined to agree. He looked around with a frown, as the shadows scuttered around the tiny cottage. “You live here?“ he couldn’t help but ask. It was a terrible hovel indeed.
Zahra shrugged as if she didn’t notice the disgust in his voice. “I couldn’t exactly afford anything else at first,” she said drily.
At least not without taking any money from Rhys and Feyre, and clearly that was nothing that Zahra wanted to do.
He was struck by how empty it all looked. There was a small kitchen space, a table with a few chairs a fireplace… And the door that led to her bedroom, he assumed.
“How long have you lived here?“ he asked carefully, taking in the bare emptiness. There were no pictures on the walls. No trinkets and little belongings anywhere. It was…lifeless. She shrugged again and kicked off her shoes, making her way towards the bedroom. “A year?“
The room was equally simple and bare. A bed, a few clothes. A little bathing chamber. That was it.
“You’ve lived here for over a year?“ Azriel repeated, his voice turning sharp as he looked at everything. There wasn’t even a mirror on the wall.
When she just shrugged again, he was done. He grabbed her arm and towed her back into the main room. “Stay,” he ordered, pointing at the table and one of the two rickety chairs.
“What are you doing?“ Zahra asked, raising both eyebrows at him. Her irritation had started to rise considerably. At least that had done something to the sickly colour of her skin.
“Making sure you eat something before you pass out on me,” Azriel muttered, turning back into the kitchen area, looking around with a frown.
There was…nothing. His shadows reported as much. She literally had a few pieces of bread and some cheese in the whole house. He was more than fuming. That was not enough that she was living in…this hovel, she was apparently also starving herself.
He pointed at the chair again. “Sit,” he ordered a little sharper than he had intended.
The glare she gave him did not surprise him. Zahra hated being ordered around. “No,” she said firmly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I’m not hungry.“
Azriel clenched his jaw, the anger flaring. How stubborn could she be?
“You clearly haven’t eaten in days,” he said, pointing out the obvious. “You have nothing in your house to eat.”
“I have what I need,” she retorted, her own anger flaring. Azriel gritted his teeth, the urge to snap at her almost overwhelming.
“You are skin and bones,” he hissed. “There is barely enough fat on you to keep out the cold.“
“Why do you care?“ she snapped right back.
The question hit him squarely in the chest. Why did he care? Why, he asked himself for a moment. Why indeed.
He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say that it was just because she was Feyre’s sister.
Thankfully, Azriel was saved from actually having to answer, when her stomach grumbled.
Loudly. Azriel almost chuckled at the sound of her own stomach betraying just how hungry she really was. “Clearly your body disagrees with you,” he said drily.
“Shut up,” Zahra snapped, her skin flushing at the sound of her own stomach.
“I will shut up after you’ve eaten something,” Azriel said firmly, folding his arms across his chest.
Zahra gave him a glare that could strip the paint from the walls, (but then, the paint was already flaking off anyway). Still, she grudgingly sank down on the chair, her eyes avoiding his.
He turned back into the kitchen, opening cupboards and drawers and found absolutely nothing. There was nothing. Not even some fruits or vegetables.
He slammed the last cupboard closed, almost causing the hinges to break, the anger flaring hotly in his chest. That stupid, stubborn, stubborn woman.
“I will personally come here every day and stuff you full until you burst,” he snapped before he could stop himself.
“Why?” she asked and he could hear the challenge in her voice. Her own anger rose to meet his own. “Why would you even bother?“
“Because you are starving yourself,” he said, spinning around to face her. “Because you are so thin, I could snap you in half with one hand. Because I’m pretty damn sure you haven’t eaten a proper meal in at least a year. That’s why.“
“Maybe I don’t deserve a proper meal,” she shot back and something inside of him snapped at the tone in her voice.
Because he knew that feeling. He knew. For just a moment he froze. They were far more similar than they should be.
It was a terrible realization. He knew what the self-hatred and bitterness was like. He understood it far better than he wanted to.
“Nobody is going to suddenly show up and care,” he told her quietly. He saw her eyes flare at the words and he knew she got the meaning behind them instantly.
She sat there, her jaw tensed. “And what do you know about it?” she snapped, her voice bitter.
“I know what it feels like to starve oneself,” he said calmly. “I know what it feels like to have not a single person notice or care.“
The words rang truer than they should. Her eyes widened for a moment, shock flashing through her.
“I know what it feels like to be the one be always at the edge of the family. I know what it feels like for everybody around me to meet their mate but not me.“
The words slipped out before he could stop them. The pain he had buried so deep, deep down flaring up. The pain and loneliness and bitter realization that would never have what everyone else had.
He realized only then how much they really had in common. How similar they were.
“I know what it feels like to be the afterthought,” he continued, unable to stop now. “I know how it feels to be shoved aside. I know how it feels to watch everyone around me find someone while I’m the one left behind.“
He took a step closer to where she was sitting, towering over her. “And I know how it feels to hate myself enough to deny myself the basic needs I actually have.“
The last words made her flinch. He was so close he could almost see the pain and guilt and bitter realization flit across her face. Her eyes were on her lap, her fingers wrapped around the edge of the table.
“I know what it feels like to feel as if I don’t deserve to eat,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not good enough. Not worthy enough. Not deserving enough.“
He knelt down in front of her, forcing her to look at him. To meet his eyes.
She tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let her. He wanted her to see. To understand that she wasn’t as alone as she thought. “I know what it feels like to punish myself by not giving myself what I actually need,” he said quietly.
Her breath hitched at the last words, her eyes widening ever so slightly. She was listening. Really listening to what he said.
“You’re not the only one who hates yourself, you know,” he said quietly. The look in her eyes shattered him. The look of realisation. Of bitter understanding. The realization that they were so much more similar than either of them had thought before.
Zahra bit her lip, the guilt flashing across her face. Her hands started trembling, ever so slightly.
“You don’t deserve to go hungry,” he said quietly, his voice firm and quiet. “You don’t deserve to starve yourself. You don’t deserve to live in this… hovel.
“The cauldron should just have killed me,” Zara said her voice brittle. “I don’t like this life.”
And didn’t that break his fucking heart?
She laughed bitterly, but there was no humour in it. “I’m not even surviving,” she said, a bitter smile on her thin lips. “I’m existing. There is a difference.“
The words hit him hard. She was right. She didn’t survive, she just existed. There was a difference and a huge one at that. “Then stop just existing,” he said quietly.
His hand was still cupping her cheek, his thumb stroking gently over her skin.
“Says the guy that just keeps moping around,” she quipped.
It was a low blow but also true. Azriel’s jaw tensed at the comment. “I don’t mope,” he bit. “I just..“
He didn’t really have a good argument in his defence at the moment.
He sighed. “We should both stop rotting away,” he said drily.
“Yeah, well, that’s easy to you to say,” Zahra said and he could hear the bitterness in her voice.
“Eat your cheese,” he responded.
She rolled her eyes and snatched away the slice of cheese off the table. “Happy now?“ she muttered.
“Delighted,” he gave back drily, as he moved towards her fireplace.
“You don’t need to do that,” Zahra said quietly. “I can do that.”
“Considering you’ve been too starved to think straight, you are going to let me do this,” Azriel cut across her calmly. “You are more than likely to burn yourself.”
“Don’t the flames bother you?” She asked him quietly. He froze.
Nobody else had ever asked him. They had just expected him to be over it by now. He had 500 years to be over it. His hands clenched.
“Yes,” he answered quietly. “They still do.” It was the honest truth. A truth he never told anyone before, least of all someone like her. The shadows curled around his shoulders and arms as if to calm him down. The flames still bothered him. They always would. “But I learnt to deal with it a long time ago,” he continued.
“That’s not fair to you,” Zahra said, her voice quiet. “You are always the one in discomfort. And nobody cares.”
Her words hit him square in the gut. It was true. It was painfully true. He was always the one being uncomfortable. Always the one on edge. It had always been expected of him to be over it by now, the pain and the hurt. The fear and the bitterness.
He finished building the fire. Using a match to light it carefully, then closing the door quickly.
“I can deal with it,” he answered quietly. “You should go to sleep,” he advised her.
“So should you,” Zahra told him just as quietly. “You look terrible.“ He knew he looked like crap. But that didn’t matter.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, brushing off her comment. Even though he knew it was a lie. Even though he knew they were both terrible at taking care of themselves.
“You are a terrible liar,” she quipped. He looked at her and was surprised to see a tiny smile on her face.
“And you’re a very stubborn, very stupid, very annoying woman,” he quipped back just as quietly.
The smile on her face broadened the tiniest bit at the comment. “I could say the same about you,” she shot back.
“Sleep,” he told her again.
And then he left that little cottage to get back to the House of Wind. He didn’t bother winnowing, instead, he shot up into the sky with one flap of his mighty wings. He wouldn’t be able to sleep anyway.
His mind was whirling as he flew back to the House of Wind. So much had happened in the last few hours and it was all still a lot to process.
He had always been good at keeping a rein on his thoughts and his emotions. But this time, he simply couldn’t.
Zahra and him, always on the outskirts of their family. Ignored and expected to get on with it.
They were so similar in so many ways. It was shocking to realize just how much they actually had in common.
The loneliness and solitude he had come to live with, she had experienced herself. The pain and the bitterness, he could recognize it on her, for he had felt it himself.
Where are you, Az? Rhys demanded at that moment mentally. Azriel would like to scratch out his eyes, but he didn’t.
I’m flying back to the House, he sent back curtly. Zahra had a headache, so I brought her home.
A headache, Rhys shot back incredulously. Azriel could almost see the look on his High Lord’s face. You really think I will buy that?
I don’t care if you believe me or not, Azriel responded icily, his temper rising already at the tone. It is the truth and I really don’t wish to have a discussion over it.
There was a pause in Rhys’ mind. Then a slight huff. You can be so unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?
Azriel didn’t bother reacting to that.
Elain and Lucien are figuring things out. So keep away from her, Rhys told him sharply.
I am keeping away from her, Azriel shot back, irritation flaring. You really think I will go and ruin this for her?
I don’t know what you are up to, Rhys retorted, and Azriel knew the High Lord was irritated. But I really don’t have the time to deal with your crap right now. That’s an order.
Understood, High Lord, Azriel snarled back and he felt Rhys chuckle in his mind at the tone. I will keep away from your precious Elain, I promise.
Damn right you will, he heard Rhys mutter in his mind and the mental connection between the two of them snapped close.
Azriel snarled in irritation as he landed on his balcony and stalked into his room. It wasn’t enough that he was wrestling with his own emotions, No, he also had Rhys all up his ass about it.
And he was infuriated about the whole thing.
Nobody will suddenly show up and care, he has told Zahra. It was the truth. Nobody would care.
They only cared as long as they got what they wanted from him.
Chip away the pieces they didn’t like. Mould him into a person they could stomach.
Either it was Rhys ordering to keep away from Elain…or ordering him to behave around Mor and Emerie… and to be quite honest…Azriel was done.
It was always him that needed to bend to make everybody else comfortable. Nobody bends for him.
So many years of following orders, of keeping his mouth shut, of bottling up the anger.
Even when everyone around him was getting what they wanted. They got their happily ever after. And he was left behind. Not once did someone ever realize that he was struggling. Not once did someone notice that he needed something…anything. That he was hurting and in pain. Nobody even bothered to check on him, to ask how he was doing.
They all got what they wanted. Mor, Emerie, even Feyre. They all got the mate that they wanted. Rhys, Cassian and even Amren had Varian.
He was the one always helping everyone else. Always the one having to endure everything. Never anything for himself. No love for himself.
Orders, commands, demands…that’s all it ever was. He didn’t get a say in anything. They just expected him to be fine. And if he wasn’t…he had to push through it.
He was the tool that did whatever needed to be done. The spy that got the order to do the dirty work. The shadowsinger that just had to endure everything.
All for scraps of attention.
Azriel was done.
He was so done. With everything. With everyone. With the one-sided affection that he had given in a desperate attempt to feel…something, anything….
He needed to stop expecting to get anything from them.
Zahra did not. She seemed to have given that up a very long time ago
The cold realization that they had been doing the same to her hit him. She was also the tool they used when they needed it. She may not be a spy, but they used her just the same. Expected her to be fine.
She was alone just as much as he was.
Alone and isolated, an afterthought to their family just as much as he was.
***
It was quiet in the little cottage.
Peaceful.
Comfortable.
Sie should be happy. Or at the very least…she should be content, should she not?.
Zahra had a roof over her head. And if she wanted to…she could afford food.
Her job didn’t pay that well, but it wouldn’t leave her starving. She just wasn’t hungry. She seemingly never was.
That was a lie and she knew it. Deep down she was hungry all the time. She just refused to give in to eating. She refused to listen to her body screaming for sustenance. It didn’t matter, anyway. Nobody cared.
She didn’t care.
Something inside her had broken during her bath in that cauldron. Her humanity had burned away and with that…with that everything Zahra had ever wanted.
She didn’t crave anything anymore. Not love. Not affection. Not attention. Not food. It was all gone. All she felt was numb.
Cold, empty and numb. Like her shell had hardened and frozen over.
She had never thought it was possible to feel so damn tired without having done anything.
Zahra forced herself to get up. Forced herself to heat some water on the stove… to make tea. The cheapest tea she had been able to find at the market.
It wasn’t the best. The taste was bitter and the color was more brown than black. But it was tea and she was thirsty enough to drink it.
It wasn’t very warm and left a bitter aftertaste on the tongue. Like her life itself.
Maybe just dying would have been easier, she reflected bitterly. Was this how eternity would feel? Alone? Tucked away in this cottage?
All her sisters had been given a mating bond. They had been given another person who loved them unconditionally…that was at their side. That wanted them around. That wanted to spent time with them.
And then there was her.
She had been closest to Feyre during the years in that cottage. Nesta gave her the fault for seemingly everything htat had ever gone wrong in her life, though Zahra privately thought that for Nesta, Zahra was just the evidence of another of her father’s failings…Elain…well, Elain was more embarrassed than anything about Zahra’s very existence. But Feyre…well, Feyre hadn’t cared. And so Zahra had tried to dote on her as much as she could.
And then clearly she had been replaced in Feyre’s affections.
She didn’t fault her for that.
Feyre had made her own life. And she had every right to do that. She was busy with her mate and her son and Mor was her best friend and…there was seemingly no place for Zahra there.
Which was fine.
It was.
But if Zahra was completely honest with herself…she was unspeakably jealous of the mating bond of every single one of her sisters.
Of that promise of at least one person that would be on her side, come Hel or High Water.
Clearly, something was wrong with her that she hadn’t been given a Mating Bond.
She wasn’t worth a mate. Clearly, something was broken inside her. Otherwise, the cauldron would have given her a mate, right?
Maybe she was broken so thoroughly that nobody even wanted her.
Why would they? She was a shell of a person, a ghost of the woman she was supposed to be.
She was cold, empty and numb. Everything that nobody could possibly want.
Everyone else got a mate, love and happiness. Not her.
She had nothing.
Her hands clenched around her lukewarm cup of tea.
Some random sparks of light sparked against the mug. A gift from the cauldron. They didn’t seem to do anything but warm whatever they touched. Maybe that was that random power the cauldron had given her. Neither future or death…but…warmth. She supposed it was something.
She wasn’t quite sure what to do with it, and she had never bothered telling anybody about it.
Sometimes she allowed herself to play with them when she couldn’t sleep. They were strange and utterly useless.
It wasn’t the power of foresight or the power of a death god…no. She had the stupid power to create sparks. Useless sparks of light.
Oh well.
Complaining about her sparks wasn’t going to help her either.
So she pulled out her work and sat down to do her work as the sun came up and the day went on.
Zahra balanced the account ledgers for one of the apothecaries in Velaris. Which meant she had a whole box of receipts to sort through and put into said ledger.
One receipt at a time, one name after the other.
It kept her busy. It paid well enough. She seemed to have some kind of aptitude for it…maybe the fact that her father was a merchant had come through for once.
She worked until the late evening. Until her eyes couldn’t concentrate on the numbers anymore.Until her back and shoulders ached with pain. She stretched her shoulders back.
She wondered if she should eat something. Her cheese was gone, thanks to Azriel standing over her until she ate it…but she still had one or two slices of bread, didn’t she?
She could go food shopping…buy another bread, another chunk of cheese tomorrow.
Then Zahra heard a knock on the door.
Confusion spread through her. Who would knock on her door at that very late hour? It was after 9 pm already.
She got up, walked towards the door and opened it carefully.
It was the last person she would expected to be standing on the front porch. Azriel.
“I am making you dinner.“
Her eyes widened at that announcement. “You are what?” she asked him dumbly.
He just gave her a deadpan look and pushed past her. “I am cooking dinner because I am assuming that you haven’t eaten yet,” he told her plainly.
It was true. Zahra hadn’t eaten a proper meal in god knows how long. But why did he care?? “Why?” she blurted out. “Why do you care if I’ve eaten?”
He gave her a sharp look and pushed her towards the kitchen chair. “Sit down,” he simply ordered and she was too taken aback to protest against it.
He had brought his own ingredients. His own knives, all tucked away in a little basket that he put on her countertop. “Can you peel potatoes?” He asked her as he rummaged through it.
She could just stare at him.
“Who do you think cooked the meat Feyre hunted?” Zahra replied drily.
Azriel froze in the process of digging something out of the basket on the counter. “You can cook?” he asked her and she heard the surprise in his voice.
Zahra let out a snort. “Yes, I can cook,” she retorted. “What did you think I was doing this whole time in the cottage? Twiddling my thumbs?”
He shrugged. “Honestly, I had no idea what you were up to,” he told her truthfully. “I thought you were as useless as Elain and Nesta were at that point,” he admitted.
“Nesta did all the cleaning and hacked the wook,” Zara corrected him quietly. “Elain mended. I cooked. Feyre was the only one who hunted. And yes, we should have done more, but I did help run the household. The only one who never helped was our father.” The bitterness bled into her voice at that.
There was a long pause after her admission. Then Azriel exhaled. “I guess I shouldn’t be as surprised as I am,” he muttered. “You don’t strike me as a pampered useless damsel.”
“Thank you for that assessment, Shadowsinger,” she quipped back. “I will make sure to remember it when I need a pick-me-up.”
He put a sack of potatoes in front of her. “I take it I’m peeling potatoes,” Zahra murmured, staring at the sack that was in front of her.
“Yes,” Azriel confirmed in that no-nonsense voice of his. “While I prep the meat. I do hope you like rabbit,” he added drily.
“Oh good,” she muttered, grabbing a knife and started to peel away at the potatoes. “Did you hunt it?”
“Yes,” he confirmed, his voice neutral. Zahra bit back a snarky remark and focused on the potatoes.
They worked like that in silence. Him preparing the meat, her peeling the potatoes and the carrots.
It was odd. This whole thing was odd. Sitting and cooking with Azriel. She hadn’t even known he could cook.
And yet…it was comfortable. Like the silence wasn’t awkward and neither of them felt the need to break it. It was a comfortable domestic kind of silence. Like they had done this a thousand times before.
“How are you with spicy food?” Azriel asked her after he had taken the potatoes from her.
Zahra blinked in surprise. “I have a pretty good tolerance, why?” she asked, curious.
“All the food I can cook is Illyrian,” Azriel answered drily. “I learned from Rhys’ mother and later from my own. It’s spicy.”
“I can handle a bit of spice,” she assured him. “It should be fine.” He nodded in response.
The sound of the fire crackling in the stove and him stirring up the meat were the only sounds filling the kitchen as they continued their work.
Zahra honestly had no idea Azriel could cook. He didn’t seem like the type of male who spent time cooped up in the kitchen, making meals. It was a little surprising.
And yet, the scents of spices and rabbit were filling her kitchen right now... It smelled almost heavenly.
She hadn’t smelled something as heavenly in a long time. And her stomach growled in response to the delicious scents of food. Zahra tried to remember when she’d last eaten something actually decent, but she couldn’t think straight. The food was distracting her.
“You look half starved,” Azriel observed in a deadpanned tone and she snapped her head up only to find him looking at her.
His eyes were focused on her, a frown playing on his forehead. “When was the last time you actually ate something properly?” he asked her, his voice firm.
She averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, looking away from him and to the pot bubbling on the stove. “Maybe a week ago?”
He was silent for a moment. “That long?” he asked her, his voice carefully neutral. She just shrugged in response to keep herself from admitting that she actually couldn’t remember exactly.
He poured hot, thick stew into a bowl for her and then put it in front of her, holding out cutlery for her to take. “Why are you doing this?” Zahra asked him weakly.
“Because I wish somehow had done it for me,” Azriel responded
That simple statement made her blink in surprise. It was not an answer she had been expecting. She bit her lip, not really sure what to say.
And then he simply said. “Eat. You look like you’d blow away at the slightest breeze.”
She should have been angered by that blunt statement, but somehow she wasn’t.
So Zahra ate.
The food tasted incredibly good. She had to admit that the Shadowsinger was talented with cooking. The food was spiced just perfectly, hot and filled with flavour.
Every bite made her realize just how incredibly hungry she was. Her stomach filled slowly and the hunger abated with every spoonful. It was like her insides started to come back to life. The numbness was slowly disappearing, replaced by an odd sort of warmth flowing through her limbs.
"Thank you," she finally said weakly.
Azriel just nodded at her, watching her eat. “Of course,” he murmured and continued with his own food.
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Just Let Me Adore You (BuckTommy) -2/6
Summary: What if…instead of Chimney taking the role of interim Captain of the 118, Tommy is asked to take on the role.
Or, what happens when Buck meets Tommy in S2
Words: 3.4k
Notes: Title from Adore You by Harry Styles
Read on Ao3
Part One
-
Part Two
After growing up in Hershey, chocolate factories didn’t impress Buck much. He’d gone to the Hershey factory a few times on school trips and it’d been fun the first few times. Buck wasn’t even sure if it was his proximity and how often he had that chocolate as a kid, but he really wasn’t all that fond of it. He’d also had some great chocolate down in South America that made anything American pale in comparison. Not a lot of people knew it, but that was where cacao beans came from. It wasn’t Mexico either like some though, but Ecuador.
The Seymour Chocolate Factory wasn’t even one he’d heard of and he kinda figured the chocolate probably wasn’t even that good, though they did leave with a small bag of chocolates by the end of the call. The call came about a guy that had fallen right into a chocolate vat while on a tour.
As they were walking up, Buck heard Tommy say to Chim, “this would be the moment the Oompa Loompas give us a musical number.”
Buck had no idea what he meant, but there was no time to ask for clarification.
None of them had any idea how to get the guy out of the chocolate vat until, after a few failed attempts, Tommy pulled out his phone. They all eyed him.
“What? A good Captain uses his resources. In this case, Bobby probably knows more about chocolate than anyone I know. Unless one of you has a better idea?”
He wasn’t wrong. Bobby’s advice worked and between all of them they had the teacher out and then on a stretcher.
Buck held himself back as they walked out and wound up next to Tommy.
“That was a good call, getting Bobby on the phone.”
Tommy smiled at him, crinkle eyed and gorgeous. Why was he so good looking? More importantly, why couldn’t Buck stop noticing?
“It wasn’t like he was going to get flushed out or sucked up in a tube,” Tommy said.
“What are you talking about?” Buck asked.
“Willy Wonka,” Tommy said.
“Who?”
Tommy stopped and turned to look at him, making Buck almost run straight into him.
“Okay, I’d understand if you never saw the original movie, but you have to have seen the remake? Johnny Depp was in it.”
“Uh, no,” Buck said.
“It was a book,” Tommy said next. “Roald Dahl. Oompa Loompas? The kid that got turned into a blueberry?”
Buck stared at him blankly.
“This means nothing to you, does it?”
Buck shrugged.
When they finally made it out, the ambulance had already left, Hen having gone with it. Chim and Eddie waited by the truck.
“He’s never seen Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory,” Tommy announced as if Buck had committed some kind of crime.
Buck was used to missing movie references. Chim had long given up expecting Buck to get what he was talking about. Buck had always been that kid that couldn’t sit still long enough to get through a movie. That and all the time he spent outdoors doing daring thing after daring thing. Not to mention that his parents hadn’t been big on tv time.
“He’s never seen much of anything,” Chim said with a laugh. “Him and his sister both. You’d think they were raised in some commune, but instead they’re just from Pennsylvania. I’ve taken on the task of introducing her to some classics.”
Buck shrugged his shoulders. “So, what exactly are these oompa lumps?”
“Oompa Loompas,” Tommy said. “And you won’t understand until you watch it.”
When he turned to Eddie, Eddie just shrugged at him, but he was grinning in that way that meant Eddie was too amused by the whole thing to help. Chim mimed zipping his lips closed. Looking at Tommy just got him a shake of his head. They also banned him from looking it up and on the way back to the station, Chim even grabbed his phone out of his hands even though Buck wasn’t going to google it.
“I can just look it up when I get home,” Buck told them.
“Or you could watch it,” Tommy suggested.
“Only if you watch it with me,” Buck shot back, not sure exactly why he said it.
Tommy didn’t respond at once and Buck felt like he’d gone and put his foot in it. But then, “Yeah. Alright. If only to make sure you actually watch it.”
—
He tried to invite Chim and Eddie over to watch Willy Wonka with him and Evan, but neither of them was interested or available even if they did want Tommy to let them know how it went. Hen had also turned him down in favor of a date night with her wife. So, Tommy was on his own. Due to Evan’s living situation, he also had to host. So at least they got to use his living room with his big screen tv and sound bar.
Evan showed up with pizza, beer, and a veggie tray. He looked a little nervous even after Tommy invited him in. He watched as Evan took in Tommy’s house. It was very much a work in progress and Tommy had been doing most of the work on his own, so it was taking him a while to get through all of it. He expected it would be at least a year or two before he was finally satisfied by which point something would need to be repaired or repainted.
“I like your place,” Evan said.
“Really? It’s a bit of a half finished mess.”
“But one you’re clearly putting time into,” Evan said. “And you’ll like the end result because of it.”
“Well, lucky for us, one of the things I did finish is the living room.”
It was the thing he’d tackled right after the kitchen — which technically wasn’t even done — , the upstairs bathroom, and parts of his bedroom. He needed a place to relax and wind down after long shifts. So, it had become a priority. Tommy led Evan there and cleared off the coffee table for the food.
They sat down side by side on his couch and Tommy grabbed the remote.
“It’s an older movie,” Tommy informed Evan. “I think you’ll like it, though.”
Evan got into it pretty quickly. He did ask questions like about the bed the grandparents shared and Tommy mostly just told him to keep watching. Tommy was more of a romcom re-watcher, so he hadn’t actually watched Willy Wonka in years. Still, it was more fun to get Evan’s reaction to things. He’d forgotten how eccentric and weird the movie was and watching Evan react was everything. He expressed so much and laughed with so much surprise that it was absolutely endearing.
“Those are the Oompa Loompas!” Evan exclaimed when he first saw them, giggling. “I get it now.”
By the time they finished the movie, Evan had turned to him with a big grin. “Okay, that was actually pretty good, if a little odd. You said there was a remake?”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah. It’s different, but still good. Wonka is completely different. The whole vibe is different.”
“Might have to check that out,” Evan said with a smile. After a pause, “We could have another movie night?”
“That’d be nice,” Tommy said and he meant it.
Evan stayed a little bit after the movie, discussing the more ridiculous aspects of it. Then, somehow, talking about what Tommy would be tackling next on the house.
“I did construction,” Evan offered. “I can help out if you ever need a second hand.”
The thought of Evan working with him to put new flooring down or to sand and stain his cabinet doors was far more appealing than it should be, but he nodded and thought that he wouldn’t actually ask Evan for help. He might not survive it if he saw Evan dressed down and sweaty doing physical work in Tommy’s own home.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he told him.
—
Phone calls with Ali were getting exhausting. Buck had known what he was signing up for when he started dating her. She’d been clear from the start that she traveled for work and considering Buck’s own hours he’d figured it’d be fine. It was for a while. When she was in LA it was always fun. It was different from Abby and Buck liked that. Still, it always left him feeling a little left behind whenever she went off on yet another trip. She’d call, but it wasn’t the same as having her in LA. It wasn’t the same as being able to just see her whenever he wanted and that made it hard.
When the time between calls started lengthening and lengthening, it almost even felt like he wasn’t dating anyone at all. One night they even had a discussion about opening up the relationship, making things more casual. Not that they were even necessarily talking about each other in any serious manner to begin with.
“It’d be a lot easier on both of us,” Ali had explained. “You can be free to meet other people and so can I.”
Buck hadn’t argued with her or known how to approach such a suggestion. Maybe he should have. It had just felt like if he didn’t she would just leave him once and for all. He tried his hardest not to think about her out there meeting other guys and maybe finding something better elsewhere. Someone better. For his part, he didn’t want to go back to who he used to be, so he didn’t even try to meet anyone else.
It wasn’t until…but no, Tommy was a guy. Buck wasn’t interested in him like that. He wasn’t, right? He tried not to think about their movie night. How it had felt to sit on Tommy’s couch feeling his warmth next to him watching chocolate shenanigans and being perplexed by the whole thing and then also feeling Tommy’s gaze on him. There was just something about him. Buck felt like a magnet being pulled in by a force he couldn’t fight — one he didn’t want to fight. And that…that was scary.
It was what found him knocking on Bobby’s apartment.
“Hey,” Bobby said and motioned him in. “Want some water?”
“Uh. Yeah. Sure.”
Bobby’s table was covered in wedding stuff.
“Am I here at a bad time?”
“Not at all. What’s going on, Buck?”
Buck sank into the chair. “Bobby, you gotta come back to work.”
Bobby chuckled as he set down a glass of water in front of Buck. “I’d love to. It’s not up to me.”
“Isn’t there anything we can do? Can’t we like write letters or something? Talk to them?”
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t think that will help, Buck. What’s going on? I thought Tommy was doing well.”
Buck kinda panicked then because Tommy was actually good at being Captain. He was different than Bobby, of course, but not in a way that made Buck or really anyone on the team want him gone. Tommy was knowledgeable and his own expectations about how the equipment was kept and how everything was stocked. While he’d hung back a bit the first few shifts, after that he’d jumped right into action with them, knew how to balance being in charge and telling them what to do with also being part of the solution. Buck was more than a little impressed with him.
“No, no, he’s doing fine. He’s a good Captain. He’s not you, but he’s good. Way he handled that bombing the other day? Or the chocolate factory…I can see why he was picked to hold your spot.”
“I’m glad you like him,” Bobby said with a smile. “So, what’s happening, Buck?”
“Ali wants an open relationship,” Buck blurted out.
He could tell that he’d shocked Bobby, at least for a moment. He recovered quickly. “Is that something you want?”
“Not really,” Buck admitted. “Or…well, I don’t know. You know it’s not unusual or anything and it works for some people. You know, some people think that people aren’t meant to be monogamous. I don’t think I’m too bothered by it like as a concept.”
“But this is not a concept. It’s your life, Buck.”
“Yeah. I know,” Buck said and it was entirely the problem.
Okay, so it wasn’t like Buck didn’t know that he had a bit of a slut era. His Buck 1.0 days…Buck wasn’t ashamed of them. And maybe in that time he’d explored a bit. One thing that Buck had realized was that he could never do threesomes. They were complicated and Buck was bad about sharing. Jealous, even.
Bobby stared at him and Buck stared back. If he could just share all his thoughts with Bobby without saying them outloud, it would actually solve everything. Not even just his Ali problem, but maybe the near obsession he was having about Tommy.
“I don’t think the problem is the open relationship,” Buck said.
He thought about Abby leaving and how she had tried to tell him in a roundabout way that what she wanted was to be free from everything and everything included him. He hadn’t been in love with her, though he had loved her. Cared about her. Convinced himself he would have a future with her. Had he realized what Abby meant by Eat, Pray, Love, Buck was actually sure that he would have been upset. Then again, it wouldn’t have been some dragged out thing.
With Ali…shouldn’t he be more upset? Shouldn’t he be angry and maybe even jealous because why was she bringing it up if she didn’t already have someone that she wanted to sleep with? Was this her roundabout way of saying that they were over?
“I don’t think I should be so…so okay with it. Or not care,” Buck said.
“Oh,” Bobby said.
Maybe it was that she was gone all the time. Gone so much that Buck hadn’t had any time to get attached. Not really. Not in the way that mattered.
“Then maybe this would work for you, if you were looking for something different,” Bobby tried.
Tommy came to mind right away. Except that…he couldn’t do that to someone, least of all Tommy. Buck groaned, as if that were even an option.
“Buck?”
“What if…” Buck trailed off. He couldn’t say it. “No. I guess I should talk to Ali.”
“That’s probably a good start. You know, I don’t have to be your Captain for us to have these talks.”
“No, but it would be less confusing if you were,” Buck muttered on his way out and didn’t know if Bobby had heard him.
—
He could see the devastation on Eddie’s face. The woman — his wife — was on the stretcher and from what Chimney had whispered to him and Tommy’s own experience she wasn’t going to make it. She was already dead even if it hadn’t caught up to her. Eddie didn’t seem to know it fully yet, but he watched as Hen and Chim worked on her.
“We need to intubate,” Hen said from inside the ambulance.
Chim stopped her. “No.”
“No?” Hen asked.
Chim shook his head and his eyes met Tommy’s, before looking to Eddie.
“Chim’s right,” he said. “I’m sorry, Eddie.”
He could tell that Eddie understood. He’d been an Army medic, had worked as a firefighter long enough that of course he knew.
“If they intubate,” Tommy said, “that tube may never come out. Right now, before they do that, just take a minute.”
“He knows,” Chim said. “Eddie, I’m sorry…this is…come on, you can say goodbye to her.”
There was nothing that could have prepared any of them to arrive at a call to find that the one person seriously injured — other than the driver — was the wife of one of his firefighters.
Tommy gripped Eddie’s shoulder, not that it made much difference and then he watched Eddie climb into the ambulance. Tommy closed the door behind them and then turned around.
“Hey,” Evan said. “Is she—”
Tommy shook his head. Evan let out a sigh and he pressed his lips together. He took a quick glance around. The driver had been loaded into another ambulance. The minor injuries had already been looked at. Evan let out a sigh and his eyes met Tommy’s again, looking a bit glassy.
“We should go to the hospital,” Tommy said.
“Yeah.”
He wasn’t surprised when Bobby arrived, was glad to see him so that some of this burden wasn’t on Tommy. It was more than a job, these people were Bobby’s family and they needed him. Tommy wasn’t that for them and he wasn’t all that close to Eddie to offer the comfort that Bobby could
Eddie left with Bobby, clutching a bag with her belongings and looking lost in a way that Tommy had never experienced for himself.
They didn’t talk about it on the way back to the station and he told dispatch to take them off line for the remaining time left on their shift because it was only a few hours and they were all more than a little distracted. The 118 could go back online once B-shift took over. He found Evan in front of the tv, staring out into nothing.
“Did you know her well?” he asked.
“No,” Evan said. “Met her a few times here or there, but that was all. Eddie really cared about her, they were kinda reconnecting, I guess. She hadn’t been a part of Eddie’s or Christopher’s life for a bit. Now…”
“That poor kid,” Tommy said because he hadn’t even thought about Eddie’s son.
Eddie had probably told him by now, had torn his world apart. At least Christopher would have a good dad. He would have Eddie there to grieve with. He would have a dad that cared and that loved him even if he never saw his mother again.
“Yeah,” Evan said.
Life was like that, made up of tragedies.
The next time he saw Eddie, it was a few days later. Tommy had arrived early to do some paperwork and the last person he expected to see was Eddie. He was in civilian clothes at least, not that Tommy would have allowed him to work even if he’d gotten the uniform on.
“Hey, Eddie, how are you doing?”
“Alright, everything considered. Funeral’s in a couple of days.”
He still looked lost. Like he was still out on that street looking at Shannon.
“Well the last thing I want you to worry about is work,” Tommy said. “Take all the time that you need.”
“Even with all those bombs showing up?” Eddie asked and shook his head. “No. I think I’ll need to work. I’ll need to be back so I can stop thinking about it. Stop picturing it.”
It felt like a mistake. He didn’t want to say no and he didn’t want to make things harder for Eddie, and yet in their line of work there was no room for distractions. Distractions led to mistakes and mistakes in their line of work could be life or death.
“Look, that’s…I’m not saying you shouldn’t come back at once. I just, I want your head to be in it. I want you to be in the right state of mind. Have you thought about talking to someone?”
Eddie looked taken aback. “What?”
Tommy should have expected it. Guy like Eddie who’d been in the Army and who had probably not bothered to do any therapy after it, of course he didn’t think he needed it now.
“The department has good grief counselors, Eddie,” Tommy said. “I won’t put any restrictions on when you can return, but I want you to see one…if they say that you’re fit to work and willing to do a few more sessions then that’s that.”
Eddie looked like he wanted to argue, but Tommy was going to hold strong on that. He didn’t know what Bobby would have done in his place, but Tommy knew what Gerrard had done for a firehouse and a team that had lost one of their own. Tommy knew what Captain Reid at Harbor would do, too.
“Are you serious right now?” Eddie asked.
Tommy sighed. “Eddie, come on. I have a whole team to look out for here and this is not even really my house.” He lifted an eyebrow.
“Okay,” Eddie said. “Fine. If that’s the only way.”
“It’ll help, Eddie. I don’t…I’ve never been married, but I’ve lost important people. I get it. It isn’t easy and it won’t be for a while. How’s your son doing?”
“As fine as he can be doing,” Eddie said. “My parents are here. My sisters. It’s helping him. It’s stressing me out.”
“Parents are never easy. If you need to get away, give me a call. There are distractions that aren’t work, you know?”
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