sirowsky

[sirowsky]

@bilibiche I really love the complex relationship between Pero and Will and this one.

Miss Grenoble is not to be messed with. She's a self-made billionaire who hates people in general, and loves nothing better than to scare the shit out of powerful men. Usually with the help of her lions, tigers, leopards and cougars.

Actually, I seem to recall part 7 is quite sweet in some sections 😁 But yeah, this story isn't exactly a fluffy one.

Collision

Part 6

Description: Niki learns the story behind Pero and William. Meanwhile, Pero is trying to keep the government from discovering their location, something made increasingly difficult by the ever-tightening noose around the safehouse.

Warnings: Pero Tovar x OFC, no reader insert, conspiracy, cursing, angst, mentions of graphic violence, mention of wild animals being kept as pets, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, secret identity, AU fic. Rating: Mature/Explicit 18+ONLY Word Count: 6800 Series Masterlist

Author's Note: Again, lots of conversation here, and most of the chapter is from Niki's point of view. I do wonder if I'll ever be able to write a series with short chapters...

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   He’s been gone for three weeks, and it’s been twelve days since the Chinese private security team had found them, which is why there’s been no communication since then.

   Pero had checked in daily before that, making sure they were all okay and reassuring them that he was making progress on keeping the US government off their trail.    But when Will’s tracking system had come online and he’d seen that their other enemy was way too close for comfort, he’d activated a digital kill-switch, disabling all possibility of contact with the outside world, but also making the house undetectable electronically.

   Unfortunately, that hadn’t been enough to hide them. The team had already narrowed down their search grid enough that they could visibly scout the remaining wilderness, until they’d found the house, masquerading as a clifftop, complete with trees growing on the roof.    And since the tracking system had also been taken offline, the hunted had been unable to see the hunters coming.

   Nikita hadn’t known about the toxic gas, so when the nurse and the man she’d never seen before at that point, had come running into the bedroom and fumbled through a closet by the door, she’d been utterly confused.    But she knows the sound of a hermetic seal locking in place, and she could guess what the loud hissing throughout the rest of the house might’ve been about. Especially when it had been quickly followed by strangled screams and then thumps of bodies hitting the floor.

   Gillian had been distraught for most of the six hours that they’d all been trapped in that room while the house had ventilated itself clear of all toxins, and once the door had opened, it had only gotten worse.    The gas must’ve been something corrosive to biological materials, because the smell of the bodies had been a blend of melted plastic, burnt skin, and the strangely sweet but utterly disgusting smell of decaying human remains.

   Niki had still been too weak to help clean up, but she’d gotten well enough to be able to stand on her own two feet by then, and had seen one of the intruders, the semi-liquefied remains of which had been partly responsible for creating that smell.    The combination of the sight and odor had made her vomit, which had prompted the nurse to order her back to bed. She was, and still is, too vulnerable to be able to afford losing meals.

   But she’d felt bad about not being able to help them drag the barely cohesive bodies to the furnace in the basement, or even to help scrub the blood and half melted remnants of skin and flesh from the floors.    She’s quite sure that Gillian will never fully recover from having had to do that. The poor girl clings to her professional persona to cope, using the fact that Niki still needs her help to go to the bathroom and get dressed, to keep the darkness away from her conscious thoughts. But there’s no escaping them at night, which is why the nurse has barely slept since that day.

   The man, William, doesn’t either, but that seems to be part of his normal routine. He hasn’t spoken much since Pero left, despite Gillian’s attempts to get him to talk about how the two men know each other. And Niki suspects that it’s because he’s ashamed.    His behavior makes her think ex-military, and probably not the kind that sits behind screens. More likely, he’s been on the ground and seen truly horrific things, evident by how measured and controlled his reactions to the almost melted bodies had been.    But Tovar has never been in the military, so that can’t be where they met.

   Without his computers, he seems so lost. Like he has no use or purpose in life unless he’s tapping at keys and looking stuff up. So, he probably doesn’t do much besides those kinds of things these days, and that makes her think he suffers from PTSS. Although, she can’t possibly know how severe his problems might be.

   Today though, twelve days after the intrusion, it isn’t the potentially frail former military man that’s responsible for the latest drama. Instead, it’s Gillian who finally reaches her breaking point.    She has just helped Niki to have a shower and get dressed when she suddenly announces that she can’t stay in this house for another minute, and heads for the front door.    Both of the other houseguests let her leave, despite knowing that she could actually end up getting lost and dying out there on her own. But they know how much she’s been suffering, and that maybe this is what it’ll take to keep her from going insane here.

   While they wait for her to hopefully find her way back, Niki and William stay together in awkward silence, sitting in the amazingly comfortable living room sofas and playing cards to try and pass the time.    But the silence leaves her fighting to stay awake, so after about half an hour, Niki starts trying to get a conversation going.

   “Which branch of the service were you in?” she asks, hoping that the question isn’t intrusive enough to trigger any bad reactions in him.

   He doesn’t seem surprised at her assessment of him as former military, but he also doesn’t look happy about it.

   “Army,” is all he replies, so she doesn’t push the subject.

   His tone isn’t harsh, but it’s clipped enough that she knows to steer clear of any follow-up inquiries on the subject.

   “And now you do research?” she leaps into the present instead, to see if he might be more comfortable talking about that.

   “I have my own company. Kinda like a private investigator, just specialized on digital analysis. Most of the time I do background checks for corporate hires.”

   “Oh, so you make sure that people aren’t hiding things from their resume that might come back to bite the rich company executives in the ass?”

   “Basically,” he agrees.

   “That sounds kinda boring,” she carefully admits, hoping he won’t take offense.

   “Sure,” he shrugs. “But I’ve also been hired by city councils and courts, police departments and fire rescue services, to ensure that the people hired to keep us safe, are actually good people. And it pays the bills and lets me stay in my house.    I’m not good with… the outside world. I stay away from it as much as I can.”

   “Nothing wrong with that. The world isn’t that nice of a place for people with any kind of trauma.”

   He offers no objection to her words, so he apparently agrees. Still, she decides not to carry on with that line of inquiry.    She wants to ask him about Pero, about how their paths could’ve crossed when their lives seem so far removed from one another, but she doesn’t know how to phrase it so that he might feel okay with talking about it, when it’s clearly a subject that bothers him. So, she remains quiet instead.    But then…

   “You wanna know about him, don’t you?” Will asks unexpectedly, after a couple of minutes of silence.

   It’s his turn to deal and he’s gathered up the cards, but he’s just shuffling them slowly between his hands, without any sign that he intends to start up a new game. His head is bowed, watching his own hands, probably too uncomfortable to meet her gaze as she observes him.    Trying to figure out how much she can ask for, how triggering this might be for him, she looks for signs of agitation in his features. But he seems calm. For now.

   “Yes,” she admits, and he squirms, only just enough that she can see it.

   “Even if you won’t like anything you hear?” he posits, clearly ill at ease with the subject, but somehow still willing to endure that if she asks him, which seems odd.

   It’s not like he owes her anything.

   “Yes,” she repeats.

   He takes a deep breath then, before slowly putting the deck of cards on the table and then clasping his hands together, as if trying to prevent them from doing something else.

   “Ten years ago, I had the world at my feet,” he starts, speaking low and sounding unfathomably sad now. “I worked on Wall Street, and I was good. I was rich, powerful among my peers, respected and admired.”

   He pauses and makes a little disgusted sound in the back of his throat, shaking his head almost imperceptibly before he continues.

   “And I had a gorgeous young fiancé. A trophy. Someone I told myself that I loved because of the status it afforded me to have her on my arm. The envy that it sparked in every man I met, but especially in my rivals.    I felt like such a king,” he says, and then scoffs. “I was so stupid.”

   He’s wringing his hands now, rocking himself back and forth where he sits a few times, as if trying to chase away something unsettling from his frame.

   “Tovar found me because of the people that I’d hurt to get to where I was. The lives I’d destroyed.    He’s really fucking brilliant at that. Seeing people’s shadows, no matter how well hidden they might be. It’s like he doesn’t even needs to look for them, he just sees them, as plainly as other people see what you’re wearing or what car you drive. He just knows.”

   She’s aware of that side of Pero too, although he’s never turned that skill on her, so far as she knows. But she’s seen him at work. Watched him a few times when he’s been introduced to new coworkers.    Sometimes he’d looked at them with utter indifference, as though they couldn’t have been less interesting to him, while other times… one glance had been enough to turn his gaze hard and his eyes dark.

   “His thing was that whenever he found someone who was cruel, who disregarded other people and their pains, he would punish them by robbing them of something they cared about. Money or possessions mostly. And he took on anyone. He was relentless.    He created this character, Mr. Hood, who would be the only one that his victims ever interacted with, and never in person, always over the phone.    That was how he protected himself, and that was how I first encountered him,” Will explains, but then falls silent, seemingly lost in memories.

   “He targeted you?” she asks, to encourage him to continue.

   “Yeah. One day I get a phone call from an unregistered number, and the voice on the other end says ‘Hello, Mr. Garin. My name is Mr. Hood, and this is a robbery.’ I made the mistake of laughing at him, assuming that it was a joke, because I was a king. No one could touch me.    He gave me five seconds to let me pretend that I had any sliver of control left over the situation, and then he took over. And once he did, I had already lost. But of course, I refused to realize that, right up until the bitter end.”

   “But if he was just a voice on the phone, how’d you end up meeting him?” she wonders, and he lets out a deep sigh.

   The kind of sigh that’s a lot more than just an exhale. The kind that she can feel in her own chest, even though the weight it carries isn’t hers to shoulder.

   “My arrogance knew no bounds, so when he demanded a hundred thousand dollars to keep quiet about the twenty people which he’d found out that I’d scammed out of their life’s savings in order to further my own career, rather than accept my punishment and move on, I took it as an offensive insult to my character. And I couldn’t possibly let that slide.    That kind of money was pocket-change for me at that time, so you’d think that I would’ve just happily paid and hoped that he kept his word. But no. Out of sheer spite, I had to put him in his place.”

   He closes his eyes for a few beats, and he somehow looks a decade older. As though the pain of his own past is eating away at him so mercilessly that his body can’t keep up.    Clearly, he wasn’t always a good person, but she didn’t know him then, so she can’t judge his past decisions. For now, she feels only sad for him.

   “I knew people,” he continues while slowly opening his eyes, although his hands are restlessly traveling from his thighs to his neck and back again, over and over. “People who could locate most anyone, for a price. The local cartel had a network of spies within the homeless community, keeping an eye on the movements of law enforcement to give them a heads up on raids and such. So, I hired this kid, Billy, to stake out the money drop.    Mr. Hood had instructed me to leave the money at a specific location and then walk away, and told me that if I did that, I’d never hear from him again.”

   “Let me guess; something went horribly wrong?” she infers, but he shakes his head.

   “No. I dropped off the money and left, trusting Billy to check out who would come to collect it. What I hadn’t anticipated, was just how determined Tovar was to keep his identity a secret.”

   “He sent someone else to retrieve it?”

   “I’m afraid it was even more complicated than that,” he tiredly grumbles, clearly uncomfortable speaking about this, but he doesn’t stop. “The guy that Billy saw retrieve the money was actually a runner for the local mob, but the kid obviously didn’t know that. So, he gave me a cell phone pic of this guy and I used my computer skills to track him down.    I was able to catch up to him when he was walking into a rundown old house which I now know was a drop-point for money heading to their launderer. But back then, I just thought it was where this asshole lived, so I came at him like a raging bull.      Obviously, he tried to defend himself and it turned into a fight, ending with me killing this guy with a fucking steak knife.”

   She refrains from commenting on this unexpected development, but she has to bite her own tongue hard, because Will looks absolutely horrified at the memory.

   “It took a while to calm down after that. I’d never killed anyone before, although Tovar would disagree, since one of the people whose money I’d stolen had ended up dying because they couldn’t afford medical treatment. But I’d certainly never deliberately taken a life before that night, and not with my own hands.    Once I got my adrenaline under control, I started looking through the house and found a duffel bag full of money on the bed, so I grabbed that and left. And I was actually kinda proud of myself when I got back to my car. That I’d beaten this asshole, that I hadn’t let him hound me around, that I’d taken back control.    But then… my phone rang. An unknown number.    I answered it, and that same deep voice said: ‘I really wish you hadn’t done that.’ Then he hung up.”

   Impossibly, he seems to turn greyer before her eyes now. His entire body looks like it’s shrinking with each breath, and his skin is losing color. All of which tells her that whatever happened next, this is the part he’s ashamed of. The part he regrets, probably more than anything else in his life.

   “Turns out that the mob has real-time surveillance on these places nowadays, to discourage stealing among their employees, so by the time I was getting back in my car, they’d already identified me. And since they’ve got their enforcers strategically placed all over the areas where they operate, they got to my apartment a full hour before I did,” he has to stop and clear his throat, but his voice is still broken and weak when he speaks again. “Christine… was still warm when I found her on our bed… They’d taken their time with her. To send me a clear message.”

   “Oh, god,” she whispers, feeling her own throat go dry and a lump form in her stomach at the mere thought of what they might’ve done to that poor woman.

   “At first, I blamed Mr. Hood for everything. But I couldn’t prove that he even existed, so naturally no one believed me,” Will picks up the thread after a minute, and it sounds as though he needs to keep talking to not have a total breakdown, so she sits quietly and listens. “Still, in my own head, I wasn’t to blame for any of it.    It wasn’t my fault that I’d been blackmailed, it wasn’t my fault that the money drop had been another layer of deception, and how the hell was I supposed to know he’d set me up to get caught by the fucking mafia… I had an excuse for all of it. Refusing to accept that if I’d just been willing to part with one percent of my wealth, everything would’ve been fine.”

   By the time he stops to breathe, trying to hold the tears back, he does sound calmer, and she wonders if this might be the first time that he’s ever talked about this.    He seems spent, though, and there’s still a lot she doesn’t understand, so she tries to give him a nudge to keep talking.

   “Okay, that all makes some kinda sense, but one thing I don’t get is, if Pero set this up so that the mob would get involved if you tried to investigate, how was he supposed to get his money in the end?”

   “He had a system. To protect himself, the money he extorted from people never actually passed through his own hands. I never managed to figure out that system in its entirety, but I know that he would’ve siphoned his money out of the pot that went to the launderer, somewhere in transit, and probably through someone else’s hands, even then.    He really is a god damned genius. If he hadn’t decided to quit, he could’ve ruled the world,” he explains, and his tone has traces of admiration now.

   “Do you know why he quit?” she asks, wanting to uncover as much as she can about the man that she’s grown to love, even though she knows almost nothing about his life.

   “No. I never asked,” Will replies, deflating her hopes a bit.

   He’s been talking for a while now, but throughout this entire story, the only thing she’s learned about Pero is that he was a career criminal for a while. That he was plagued by the injustices of the world and felt compelled to do something about it.    That’s it.    For a man who’s clearly had a profound influence on William’s life, the veteran seems to know no more about him than Niki does.

   “You still haven’t told me how you came to know the man behind Mr. Hood,” she prompts, still hoping that there might be more to the story.

   “Uh… Well, after Christine, and everything that followed with the legal investigation, my life fell apart. Whether I was able to admit it or not, I was drowning in guilt. So, I enlisted in the army and went to war in Afghanistan, thinking that putting my own life on the line would somehow make up for it. Predictably, however, killing more people did nothing to lighten the crushing weight on my soul.    And when I came back, I was even more fucked up. But by then, I’d at least figured out that I couldn’t run from my demons and that I just had to learn to live with them.    I started my company and got to do some real work, actually help people in a visible and tangible way for a change. It made me a hermit, but I didn’t much care since there was no one in my life that would miss not seeing me.    Then one day, I get a text from an unknown number, asking if I can find someone. And not just anyone. This person wanted me to find one of the FBI’s ten most wanted criminals, which at first thought seemed ridiculous, so I declined and that was that.    But the next day, the phone rings.”

   “Unknown number?” she guesses, and he fixes her with a peculiar look in his eyes.

   “I’ll never forget the chill that went through me when I heard that voice again after four years,” he says, shivering at the memory before shaking his shoulders, as if trying to shed the feeling. “He wanted me to find this criminal and he was willing to pay for it, but I was freaking out just hearing from him again, so I just hung up on him.    And what do you know, the next morning there’s a knock on my door, and there he is. The ghost that destroyed me without even trying. All he said was my name and I had a full-fledged panic attack right there in my own front hall. But the bastard just waited me out. Standing there in the doorway like some fucking vampire waiting for an invitation.    Once I’d calmed down, he crouched beside me and said: ‘If you wanna make up for your past, help me serve some misery to some real assholes.’ Then he got up and left, closing the door behind him.    I had no intention of helping him do anything, he was the last person in the world that I was ever gonna trust. And if I’d simply ignored him, he might’ve left me alone eventually.”

   “But you saw your chance to learn more…” she deduces, and he half-smiles in a nervous sort of way.

   “Yeah. I made the same mistake all over again, thinking I could best him. That if I could work out his real identity, I’d be able to expose him and get some retribution. Which was, of course, exactly what he was expecting me to do.    So, the next day, there was a package waiting for me on my kitchen table. It was an envelope containing every scrap of information that could be found about him, and even with a copy of his birth certificate and driver’s license, it all fit onto one single piece of paper.    He had no credit cards, no social media accounts, he’d never owned a phone or Bluetooth device that could be tracked, never been arrested, never had his prints taken. Nothing but a home address, a few hospital visits, and a barely used bank account to his name.”

   “Hm. That tracks with the man I know today too. And I guess he wouldn’t have deposited any stolen money into a bank account, eventually someone would question where it all came from.”

   “Absolutely, it all made perfect sense with what little I knew about him, but I was still determined to get back at him, now that I’d gotten it into my head that I might have a chance to accomplish it. And it wasn’t like I was gonna take that information at face value, I still checked everything out myself before I believed that it really was all that could be learned about him from afar.    Then, I made my next major mistake, by trying to expose him online, sending out a spam email with his picture and real name, along with a red label warning saying that this man is a dangerous criminal.”

   “Why do I get the feeling that he didn’t take that very well?” she asks, cringing involuntarily at the mental image of the perpetually private Pero finding out about something like that.

   “I learned two hard lessons that day,” Will admits, and the look in his eyes has already told her that she's correct in her assumption. “Firstly, that I wasn’t the only computer expert he had access to, because the email was sucked up into a virtual vortex the moment that it was sent, never reaching a single inbox. Which has to mean that he had anticipated something like that and had digital safeguards put in place in advance, triggered by anything that directly uses his name or picture.”

   “That sounds like something more or less impossible to pull off. Or is that just my ignorance on all computer matters, talking?”

   “It’s not the simplest coding in the world, no. But it’s not impossible.    The second thing I learned, is that when you piss this man off, he doesn’t settle for threats, he makes you feel his anger, even though you can’t see him.    For two full weeks after I’d tried to expose him like that, I got emails, phone calls, and letters, all telling me things like my payments weren’t going through, or my house was up for sale, or my bank had gotten reports about supposed illegal activities that I was engaged in, and was closing my accounts. The police showed up on my front steps three times in those two weeks, and my house was searched from top to bottom twice.    It was constant, relentless stressors and anxiety triggers, culminating in a final call where I was informed that my house had been condemned due to asbestos having been found in the basement, and that it was being scheduled for demolition. And it was all legit.    Then it suddenly just stopped.”

   “His way of telling you that he was still the one in control,” she summarizes, and he nods.

   It does occur to Niki, as she’s listening to all this, that perhaps she should be worried about potentially having a child with a man who clearly knows how to terrorize people. But she isn’t.    Whether because she understands his reasoning, or because she just doesn’t care what those reasons might’ve been, she can’t tell right now. What she does know, is that hearing all this is giving her more comfort than one would expect. Because it’s reassuring her that Pero really might be able to keep her safe from everything that hunts her.

   “Exactly, and that he could crush me without even breaking a sweat,” Will answers, and then continues, apparently hellbent on sharing everything he can about this, no matter how much it tortures him to say it. “He showed up again after that, sat me down in my kitchen and explained to me that if I didn’t wanna help him all I had to do was say no. And that if I kept insisting on trying to hurt him, he was gonna use the power that he’d accumulated over a decade of digging out people’s dirtiest secrets, to make every second of my life one endless panic attack.”

   “A threat which he’d just proven that he absolutely can make good on.”

   “Yeah. So, I stopped fighting him. And that’s where this story takes an unexpected turn. At least, it was entirely unexpected to me.    But when I started working with him, even with how rarely he needed my help with something, that’s when I started to heal. That’s when the guilt stopped being so absolute and began to become manageable. That’s when I started feeling like a worthwhile person again, even if it was just for those little increments of time.”

   He pauses, taking a few deeper breaths, and finally seems to stop shrinking, finding strength in the unexpected positivity that this story apparently ends with.

   “It’s like he knew… Like he sought me out specifically because he knew that it would help me,” he ponders, looking puzzled. “Why, I don’t know. Maybe he feels guilty too, on some level. But I know that he already had good computer people working with or for him before he came to me, and I can’t think of any other reason why he would replace them with me, when they were clearly doing a good enough job.    Honestly, I’m not sure if he even knows this himself. I get the feeling that he’s always frustrated around me, and I know that he always expects nothing but hatred from me. But I don’t hate him anymore. I’m not even sure that I ever did. I just don’t know how to tell him that in a way that he might understand… or believe.”

   He ends on a tone of sadness, which clicks something into place for Niki, regarding who this man is at heart, and what drives him.

   “That’s why you came here, isn’t it? Because you need him to be safe. Because despite everything he’s put you through… you think of him as a brother.”

   She says it softly, and watches his gaze drop to the floor in silent agreement.

   “The only thing that he put me through was the loss of that tiny amount of money. Everything else was my own doing. And do you wanna know the most pathetic part?” he asks before looking up to see her nod once, so he answers. “I still have millions.    Millions of dollars just sitting there, collecting interest, untouched, unused. I could live anywhere I want. I could buy almost anything I might fancy, but at most, I spend a few hundred dollars on new computer parts each year.    Hell, I don’t even have anyone to leave the shit to when I die.”

   “Why not give it away? There’s plenty of people in need all around us,” she suggests, already certain that he’s considered that, but curious to hear why he’s holding on to his fortune.

   “Yeah, I know. But I just…” he cuts himself off, and it sounds like he was about to say something he might regret. But then he seems to change his mind and continues anyway. “I want Tovar to have it, but I know that he’ll never take it.”

   Ah. Of course, that’s what halts him in his tracks. But Niki knows something that William doesn’t, which might come to change both men’s perspectives on this matter.

   “Don’t be so sure,” she cautions with a small smile. “Given that we make it through this crap, he might be about to become a father, and that could very well make him rethink a gift like that.”

   “You’re pregnant?” he asks with raised brows, but they soon fall again when his eyes trace the pattern of visible injuries on her body.

   “I don’t know. I was before the attack and they thought that it was still alive after my surgery, but there’s no telling if it still is,” she explains, and his expression turns sorrowful.

   “I hope it is. What’s happening to you is atrocious. If it costs you your unborn child too…”

   He doesn’t have the words to finish that sentence, and neither does she, so they just sit there in silence for a while, thinking to themselves.    And then there’s a knock on the door, making them both jump. There’s a hidden camera on the left side of it which doesn’t work right now, since all non-essential electronics are still being kept off, but the camera has a clever feature specifically for situations like this.    There’s a peephole directly behind the lens. Ordinarily, the casing behind the lens prevents it from being see-through, but if the kill-switch is activated, that casing slips down and the lens becomes a tiny window.

   Since Niki is still slow to move, Will gets up and reaches the door before she’s even managed to turn in her seat. He beckons for her to slide down a bit, where she’s less visible, while he sneaks up to the peephole.    It sits at chest height, so he has to bend down to look through it, and once he does, his shoulders drop in relief, and he unlocks the door.

   “Welcome back,” he greets as Gillian comes through the opening, hugging herself and shivering slightly, and then he quickly closes it behind her.

   “Thanks,” she quietly responds before making a beeline for the bathroom, where Niki hopes that she’ll be taking a hot shower.

   Given how long they’ve been trapped here together, she hasn’t learned much about the sweet nurse either. Their conversations have mainly revolved around Niki’s recovery, or the problems that they’ve all been facing on a daily basis.    She wonders how long it’ll be like this. How long they’ll have to endure this isolation and perpetual disconnection from the outside world.

   She’s never been one to lament being disconnected. It’s usually been something she’s sought after voluntarily. But now, when she has no choice, the lack of information and ability to assimilate to the rest of humanity, feels strangely similar to a wall being built around her.

-=<>=-=<>=-=<>=-

   He hasn’t heard from them in twelve days, and it eats away at the back of his mind like sharks on a whale carcass. He knows that the kill-switch has been activated because when he tried to make his daily call to Will, the number was suddenly invalid. Not just offline, but the actual phone number has been scrubbed, so that even if the phone is turned back on, it’s no longer connected to any network and can’t reveal the safehouse’s location.

   There’s only one reason why that switch would’ve been activated, and Pero has to fight himself every second of every day, not to race back there and find out if everyone made it through what he can only assume was the Chinese discovering their location.    Whoever that private radical is, they’ve clearly got pockets deep enough to utilize only the very best technology that money can buy. Most likely, they’ve managed to trace the truck part of the way and then extrapolated, or they got lucky and caught sight of Will, unwittingly guiding them the rest of the way.

   The only thing he knows for sure is that it couldn’t have been his own government that attacked, because he’s got enough eyes and ears among them now to have at least a basic grasp of how their search for Nikita is going.    Mr. Hood has been working hard upon his return to the world, but he knows that the voice on the phone won’t be enough to persuade some of the more seasoned professionals, which is why he’s looking them up in person.

   The Qwerty brothers had been easy enough to find, thanks to Huang’s list, but after a day of observing them, Pero had realized that they weren’t an immediate threat right then. They are clearly on standby, either waiting for new orders or a new job to come their way.    After their failure at the hospital, which they both unfortunately survived, their contract may have been revoked. The professional assassin business is surprisingly competitive, so someone else could’ve already been hired to replace them.

   He hopes not, because that would mean new faces for him to track down. But in any case, he remains close to the brothers while he works on establishing an information network around project Amazon and everyone who’s currently taking an interest in it.    For almost three weeks he’s been watching them, studying their behavior to learn their secrets, so when the time finally comes to confront them, he’s well prepared.

   Going at them one by one will only waste time, so he approaches them when they’re on their way home from their most frequented bar, in the small hours of the morning.    Earlier that evening, he’d seen one of them receive a message and then instantly show it to the other one, which had made both men shift behavior. From casual drinks and playfulness among the local regulars, to suddenly keeping to themselves and quietly boosting each other’s confidence in clear preparation for a mission.

   They might not be going after Niki again, but he can’t take that risk. He has to know either way.    They’re both sure on their feet despite the alcohol, when he steps out in front of them, blocking their way to their car.

   “Good evening, Mr. Bloom and Mr. Bloom,” he greets, nodding to the men as he addresses them each.

   They stop in their tracks at first, but there’s no question that they recognize him from the hospital, and they’re not happy to see him.

   “You,” the Tom Cruise wannabe growls, and then both men come towards him.

   “You can call me Mr. Hood,” Pero calmly answers, not moving an inch as he sees the realization hit them both at the same time.

   There aren’t many people among the rich, famous or corrupt that haven’t heard of him, and among the larger criminal elements in the country he’s almost legendary already.    He takes one measured step closer to them, and the brothers almost reflexively step back.

   “I have a proposition for you,” he continues, standing still now to make sure that they’re paying attention to his words. “Work for me as double agents against your employer, and I won’t tell the lovely Miss Grenoble about the cat.”

   Both men flinch and then quickly glance at each other. They know exactly which cat he’s talking about, they just can’t understand how the hell he knows about it.    If they had any doubts that he might be bluffing about being the real Mr. Hood, it vanishes with the understanding that he knows even their most closely guarded secrets. And that’s all it takes to flip their loyalties.    Most assassins are, at their core, primarily concerned with their own lives first.

   “It was general Hayword who hired us,” the Mark Wahlberg guy says.

   “And what was the message he sent you tonight?” Pero questions, to which the other man picks up his phone and reads the message out loud.

   It’s a set of coordinates only about thirty miles from the safehouse, along with a sternly worded order to search the entire area, even if they have to trudge through marshlands and cross rivers on foot.    This is bad news. It means that the government is closing in on them, probably aided by whoever it is that’s already attacked. And at this point, that means it’s only a matter of time before they’re found and that all he can do is delay the inevitable.

   “Alright, here’s what you’re gonna do,” he firmly declares, staring the brothers down with a hard glare. “You’re gonna go to those coordinates and you’re gonna look around. Only one of you is going to remember to bring a phone or other trackable device and it’s gonna end up lost in a puddle of mud or at the bottom of a river within the first hour. And then the two of you are gonna park your asses on a rock somewhere, for at least two days.    Now, I don’t care if that rock is an actual rock, or if it’s a hotel room a hundred miles away, the point is that you’re gonna let the general think that you did search that area and came up with nothing. Understood?”

   “And when we call from a payphone miles away from the search area and Hayword orders us back out there because we’re apparently idiots who don’t know how to close a fucking pocket?” the Wahlberg guy counters, but Pero just throws him a snide smile.

   “He’ll believe that you really are that stupid, because you somehow managed to mess up a simple hospital kill, turning it into a public spectacle, and then completely failed to reacquire your target, forcing the general to do the legwork himself.    He’ll be angry, for sure, but he will buy it. Hook, line and sinker. So, you’re gonna say ‘yes, sir’ and keep pretending to search until I say otherwise.”

   He leaves without waiting for them to confirm their compliance. He knows that they’ll do as they’re told, the threat of Miss Grenoble is much more sinister than it sounds.    She may be the epitome of a crazy cat-lady, except that her cats are of the wild, three to six-hundred pounds range, and she adores them more than her own children. She has and will feed live humans to them if she gets angry.

   But he also leaves because there’s a crawling under his skin now. An urgency. He needs to get back to the house as quickly as possible, to work out a plan with the others for how, when and where they’re gonna go to avoid the efforts of general Hayword.    Unwanted images of blood staining the polished, soft brown of the wooden walls, floods his mind. Walking in to discover bodies, tortured and mutilated… His head has a tremendous capacity for conjuring up dark scenarios and displaying them to him.

   He just hopes that he hasn’t somehow developed clairvoyance in the past three weeks.

-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-=¤=-

Part 7

Thank you for reading, and remember: I have no taglist anymore. Follow @sirowsky-stories and turn on notifications for updates on my writing :)

#thank you for reading #i know its quite a tough story #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar x original female character #modern!pero #the great wall fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

[sirowsky]

Thank you for including my little birthday gift story 💗 I really appreciate it 🥰

APRIL FIC RECS

Hello! Below is a list of the fics I have read so far this month! Will do a part 2 for what I read after today. (Can someone tell me, if I update this post will it re-notify everyone tagged? I don't want to bother y'all) But you're all amazing and your fics truly make my days. If anyway is tagged and doesn't want to be / wants me to take your fics off this list, please let me know.

THIS BLOG AND THESE FICS ARE 18+, MINORS DNI. PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND WARNINGS BEFORE READING.

Pero Tovar

A Baker’s Dozen** by @avastrasposts - Pero Tovar x reader

Tim Rockford

steep is the mountain by @sin-djarin - Tim Rockford x f!reader  

Dave York

no one has to know what we do by @janaispunk - Dave York x f!reader

Stranger: Climax (part 4 of Strangers) by @wildemaven - Dave York x f!reader

Marcus Pike

The Secret Lake by @sirowsky - Marcus Pike x female reader 

Hummingbird Has Landed (Ch 9) by @wardenparker co written with @absurdthirst - Marcus Pike x female reader

Juicy Hot Dogs by @frenchiereading - Marcus Pike x f!reader

Frankie Morales

Adrift With You (ch 12) (ch 13) (ch 14) by @morallyinept - Frankie Morales x OFC Jude

Worth It For Once by @burntheedges - Frankie Morales x f!reader

Date Night by @artsy-girl-76 - Frankie Morales x f!reader

New Beginnings (Ch 1) by @endlessthxxghts - teacher!reader x student's dad!Frankie Morales

Lemon Twist (ch 2 of do me yourself) by @undercoverpena - Frankie Morales x f!reader

the devil’s backbone [alpha!frankie] masterlist by @ezrasbirdie - frankie morales x cataline benoit [ofc]

Javier Peña

Learning to Live (Part 31) by @wheresarizona - Javier Peña x f!reader

A stranger in need, a helping hand by @lovesbiggerthanpride - Javier Peña x f!reader

Should we make it official by @wardenparker co-written with @absurdthirst - Javier Peña x f!reader

closer to light  by @sp00kymulderr - Javier Peña x f!reader

Joel Miller

egg hunt by @covetyou Joel Miller x f!reader

Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts - Jackson!Joel x afab!reader 

Passing Notes: NSFW by @burntheedges  - Joel Miller x f!reader

make a move on me by @freelancearsonist - preoutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Din Djarin

Of Constellations & Creeds (masterlist) by @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa - Din Djarin x F!reader

Quarry Masterilist (Ch 1) (ch 2) (ch 3) (ch 4) (Ch 5) by @ak-vintage - Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x f!reader

Jack Daniels / Agent Whiskey

Cherry Wine | DDDNE by @julesonrecord - Jack “Whiskey” Daniels / wife!reader

Braces by @joels-darlin - Jack Daniels x f!reader

Dieter Bravo

fade into you by @chronically-ghosted - Dieter Bravo x f!reader

Benny Miller

Filled by @dameronscopilot - Benny Miller x f!reader

Duke Leto

duke leto - breeding by @hoedamn-eron - Leto x F!reader

Crossovers

SoCal to NorCal (masterlist) by @lotusbxtch - husband!Joel Miller x afab!Reader x boyfriend!Frankie Morales

Bloody Kisses (Part 1) by @perotovar - Shane Morrissey/Tim Rockford

Unrequited (Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3) by @pimosworld - Santiago Garcia x f!reader x Francisco Morales

Give You What You Want by @lavendertales - Javier Peña x f!reader x Horacio Carillo

Playdate (ch 7) (ch 8) (ch 9) by @daddy-dins-girl - Marcus Pike x f!Reader x Dave York

#marcus pike

[sirowsky]

Round Two!

In the world of smooth cheeks, Marcus Pike took an early lead, but never count out Dave York, guys. Plus, Crane Shirt Frankie and Max Phillips? This thing could still go a lot of ways!

The top two vote-getters from today will head to the CHAMPIONSHIP ROUND tomorrow!

And now what you're all really here for: the HILARITY. Below the cut!

On Marcus Pike:

@alltheotps (speaking the hard truths)

@secretelephanttattoo (with 🐈 talk)

On Max Phillips:

@katareyoudrilling (plus a whole lotta 🔥gifs)

@missredherring (facing a vampiric Sophie's Choice)

On Dave York:

@janaispunk (I co-sign this one fully)

@yxtkiwiyxt (discussing Dave's favorite aftershave)

@aurorawritestoescape (invoking the kitchen bulge👀)

@inept-the-magnificent (not wrong)

On Crane Shirt Frankie:

@alwaysbethewest (I get it)

On Max Lord:

@yourcoolauntie (a likely story😏)

On Dio:

@perotovar (staying true to their heart)

@grogusmum (keepin' it real)

And these glorious tagstravaganzas by @undercoverpena:

And @mothandpidgeon:

#had to go with pike #that man has big brain

[sirowsky]

Today, I do my final weekend shift as an elderly care nurse, and next week I have my last three shifts ever.

Sweden is failing it's medical staff. I gave it 14 years of my life, and a good portion of my mental and emotional health, all while barely scraping by financially, and now I'm done.

My new job as a factory worker offers better hours, better benefits, less stress, a much more dynamic workplace, and a massively improved salary. I haven't even started yet and I already feel better cared for by my new employer than I ever have been by the medical industry.

And this worries me.

#life as a nurse

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette I like to imagine he eventually started coming around. Like once the kids were all grown up and moved out, maybe he knocked on their door one evening, and Bee and Pero let him in, and their friendship began again ❤️

Thank you for reading, love, and for letting me tag along ☺️

Part 30 - The Finale

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

The happily ever after awaits, but as always, there's a bump in the road.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that's read and commented, liked or lurked. I'm sorry to leave these guys, but I am very happy with this ending, so I hope you'll like it too <3

Word Count: 9485 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

<><><><><><><><><><>

   You were getting married in a few days.    That was a tough thing to wrap your head around, even though it was the most wonderful thing ever. Not that it technically changed anything, it was just such a… Thing.    Everyone you’d told had been completely ecstatic about it, adding to the love-fest, but also unwittingly adding a level of pressure that you hadn’t really anticipated.

   You would’ve been fine with simply bringing your father and best friend to church, had a short ceremony and then just made dinner together and had a relaxed party at home.    But word had spread, not just through your family and friends but through your customers as well, and what was most surprising about it was that it was your old clientele that had been most excited, calling to congratulate and asking if they could join the festivities.

   And you hadn’t been able to turn them down. Not after they’d all been so understanding about your injuries and inability to draw anymore. Which was why the wedding had become a gigantic THING.    Over a hundred guests were coming.    You’d had to close the shop for the entire week just to give Abby enough time to organize and prepare everything, from flower arrangements to cakes, not to mention decorating.

   Your chosen venue was an old barn outside of the city, which had long since stopped being used for hay, and become a local dancehall instead. And while it couldn’t seat such a large crowd for a meal, it could seat them for the ceremony, and then they’d all have to take their chair with them out behind the barn, where the tables would already be set, and the lunch already served.

   All of which had been Abby’s idea, and while it had sounded a little spartan to you, your trust in your chosen sister was absolute, so you hadn’t questioned her choices even once.    She’d roped in both Dean and Claire to help with the food, cakes, and snacks, while other acquaintances of hers had provided the furnishings and the logistics of moving them to the location.

   So, thankfully, you hadn’t needed to do much at all, beyond deciding what you wanted to look like on the day. But that was perhaps also why you felt somewhat detached from the whole thing. Like it wasn’t actually happening to you.    Meanwhile, Pero was so wonderfully unbothered. He couldn’t care less how it happened, so long as you were happy with everything.

   And he’d heard you on the phone with so many of your old clients, hearing how moved you’d been to hear from them, so to him, it had never been a question of whether you should turn anyone down from attending.    To him, each guest was just a testament to your kind heart and the open arms with which you’d approached the world throughout your life.

   However, he was also completely drunk on you, ever since you’d decided to try for another baby, so you weren’t entirely sure that his perspectives were all that reliable.

   The morning before the big day was a Friday, and he seemed to wake up in some kind of breeding mode, perhaps as a result of the overall love-theme of that weekend, but in any case, he was downright feral from the moment he opened his eyes.    For forty minutes straight, he had you pinned under him, scarcely letting you move at all, whether you were on your front or back, while he relentlessly drove into you.

   His arms strained to constantly keep your hips elevated against him, and every time he came deep inside you, he refused to let either of you rest, or a single drop of his seed from going to waste.    Not until you were both so spent that your every muscle was trembling, and your bodies just couldn’t move anymore, did he finally let up and allow himself to collapse beside you.

   “Honey…” you breathed after a long pause. “Are you okay?”

   He was so exhausted that all you got in response was a small grunt at first. But after another few minutes, he opened his eyes and looked at you.

   “Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rough.”

   “Don’t worry about it, I would’ve told you if I didn’t like it, you know that.    I’m just wondering where that came from?” you clarified, and he huffed a laugh, but it seemed like it was directed at himself.

   “You are ovulating, mi amor. It always drives me crazy, but since I will not get to touch you tonight, or tomorrow, I needed to make sure you would be full of me until then,” he explained, prompting you to ignore the fatigue in your body so that you could rise to your elbows, because you needed your head to clear.

   “Wait, what? How-… Since when can you tell if I’m ovulating? I didn’t even know that!” you exclaimed, truly thinking that he must be joking somehow.

   You weren’t actively keeping track of your cycles, beyond having a general idea of when your next bleed would be, because you and Pero rarely ever went a day without sex anyway, so it seemed superfluous.    Surely, he’d just counted the days since your period, how else could he possibly know?

   “You smell different,” he elaborated, turning your jaw slack in the process, leaving your mouth hanging open, which only seemed to amuse him. “It is a very enticing type of smell for me, it always makes me want to put my mark on you. Figuratively, of course.”

   “No way… that can’t be real,” you challenged, but he just smiled and scooted closer, demonstratively sniffing the skin of your lower arm.

   “Oh, yes, it is. You always smell nice to me, but for these few days, it gets… muskier. Richer and more noticeable. You smell like you normally do after sex, even before I’ve touched you.”

   “Seriously?”

   “Mm-hm,” he hummed, and he sounded really pleased.

   “Huh… I never would’ve thought that. I mean, I know we all have our own scent, but I really didn’t think that it could be that noticeable to anyone.    But wait, what do you mean you can’t touch me tonight? We never said we’d do the traditional night before the wedding stuff.”

   “We never said it, no, but I have a feeling it will happen anyway. There is so much to do today, and we will need our sleep for tomorrow, when we’ll both need to get up early and get started on preparations for what is also going to be a very long day.    And to be honest… it is a distraction. At least for me. And I don’t want to be distracted this weekend, I want to be in the present, with you, for all of it.    We have each other to enjoy carnally for the rest of our lives.”

   You sighed lightly, ending in a smile, because this man was just too damned sweet.

   “Well, when you put it like that…”

   He smiled with you, reached up to kiss you softly on the lips, and then started trying to coax his body back to life so that he could get up.

<><><><><> 

   Pero really was very excited about the wedding. He wasn’t even sure why, but it just felt like such a wonderful thing to get to celebrate his love for you among so many people, all of whom had had some form of positive effect on your life, and vice versa.    The only thing he was slightly saddened about, was the knowledge that the extent of the groom’s side was William and no one else. He had nothing more to bring. The rest of them would all come for you.

   But he was tremendously happy that so many people wanted to be there for you. And he was immeasurably proud that he’d get to stand before all those people and hear you confess your love for him.    The sadness he felt lay only in how poor he felt in not having anything but himself to share with you in return. An irrational sadness perhaps, since you’d already proven that none of that mattered to you.

   It was just such a harsh reminder of how alone he’d been before you. But also, of how rich you’d made him.

   Saturday did see the two of you waking up tired, following late night preparations and fixing of last-minute problems that had of course occurred, because it wouldn’t be a big celebration without at least a few mishaps for you to bemusedly recall in the future.    But you were both happy, even as you first woke up, despite the terrible fatigue and the comfiness of the bed that you now had to leave.

   You kissed good morning and then rolled out of bed to get the day started.    You’d agreed that breakfast was going to be a nice and calm affair, with just the three of you, plus Groot, both to give you a good start of the day, but also to make sure that you’d eat something before all the stressful stuff. Because once that started, you knew that you wouldn’t have time to sit down for a meal.

   Mae wasn’t in the best mood, though. She was sleepy in the mornings in general and didn’t approve of being woken extra early, so she was cranky throughout breakfast.    But it was still just a regular morning, and it was nice to just sit there and talk and let your minds have a rest from the party.    From now on, it would have to sort itself out anyway, because it was too late to change anything, and if something went wrong at this point, you’d just have to go with it.

   After the meal, however, it was time to split up.    Pero would take Babybee with him, while you went to get your hair and make-up done with Abby, after which, your bestie would bring your daughter back to you while he went to a barber and then Dean would help him with the suit.    And then it was pretty much gametime.

   William was gonna go with him to the barber and get a little makeover, or really just a tidying of his head-hair, after all his time in the bunker.    He was living in the country house with Dean and Abby now, so they’d brought him to the barn when they’d left that morning, making it easier for Pero to pick him up.    And getting there, he was astounded at how good it all looked in the daylight.

   Everyone but Will had all been there the night before, putting up the flower decorations, twinkle lights, and all the finishing touches, but it was still something else to see it all come to life under the sun.

   “There’s my boy! How you feeling, son?” Dean greeted him as he stepped into the barn with an impressed whistle.

   “Like the luckiest human being in the world,” he grinned in return, hugging the small mountain of a man.

   “Oh, I do believe you are, Mr. Tovar. Although, I am somewhat biased.”

   “As a father, I think you are allowed to be.”

   “Thank you,” Dean laughed warmly, before the men pulled apart.

   And right then, Mae came waddling through the grass, having made her way across the lawn on her own bare feet, with a watchful eye from her father, of course.

   “Babybee! My sweetest little angel, how are you?” the grandfather giggled, in his own uniquely booming way, and the child was immediately excited.

   “Baba!” she squealed and giggled, and then promptly fell on her butt when her focus was disrupted.

   She’d been quicker to learn how to walk than talk, but mama had unsurprisingly been her first word. Closely followed by baba, which she called both Pero and Dean.

   “Oh, my gosh, you’re getting so big! Soon you’ll be running off doing all the stuff you’re not supposed to do, and then we’ll all be in trouble,” the older man cooed while scooping her up in his big arms.

   “Mm, especially now when her parents will soon be busy with two of you,” the younger man added, making Dean splutter in shock.

   “What!? You guys are pregnant?”

   Ooops… He’d assumed that you’d told your father that the two of you were trying, you always told him everything.    But apparently, you’d been too busy to mention this part.

   “No, not yet… Ay, forgive me. I thought she had told you that we have started working on it,” he sheepishly admitted, but the older man just laughed heartily.

   “Nope. But that’s fantastic news, my boy! The family keeps growing. What a truly wonderful thing,” he chirped, and pulled his son into another hug.

   But as they parted once more, Pero’s eyes went around the room, looking for the only missing piece of the moment.

   “He’s out back, by the treeline,” Dean said, much more mellow as he noticed where the younger man’s focus had gone.

   “He did not wish to come inside?”

   “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what he wishes. It’s been a year and a half since Bee first got through to him, and still, it’s like he actively resists anything that might put a smile on his face,” the older man sighed with a mild shake of his head.

   “Well, let’s leave him be for now. I am sure Abby has left some things for us to do.”

   Together, the three of them put together the finishing touches in preparation for the guests, although Mae mostly just tagged along and babbled.    Their chores included fixing the welcoming drinks, putting the tablecloths out and then setting the tables, making sure all the chairs were accounted for since there weren’t any spares, and checking and double checking the sound systems for the microphones.

   Then the musicians arrived. You’d insisted on a live orchestra instead of a DJ, and that was what you’d gotten. Thirty performers strong, in fact.    And while the men listened to them warm up and test their instruments, they both had to agree that you’d been right. Living music being performed live would never top recorded music blasting through speakers. That was simply a fact.

   Shortly after that, Abby came back to take Babybee over to you so that the boys could start getting ready, and Pero couldn’t help but ask.

   “How does she look?”

   “Happy and very much in love,” was your chosen sister’s answer, and while it wasn’t what he’d meant with the question, it was still the perfect answer.

   “Good,” was all he could think to say in return, and then he darted off to find his brother.

   It took him a minute, because the man had moved from where Dean had suggested he’d been earlier, to sitting just outside the tent where the food was being prepared.  

   “Hey. Ready to go?” he asked once he got close enough to be heard.

   “Sure,” was all the other man replied, getting up and falling in beside Pero on their way back to the car.

   He was no chatterbox, nor particularly positive in general, but that morning he seemed even more down than what was his usual these days.

   “Look, if you don’t want to do this, it’s fine,” the Spaniard reassured him, reiterating what he’d told him half a dozen times already.

   “I know,” Will answered dispassionately, as if literally nothing could ever excite him again.

   Once at the barber shop, both men took their seats beside each other while their barbers got to work, and throughout their visit, William never said a word.    Pero kept up a decent conversation with the young man working on him, who really was a chatterbox and seemed to love all things wedding-related, but after twenty minutes of hitting a stone wall, the other barber gave up, and joined their conversation instead.

   So, by the time they left, the Spaniard was somewhat annoyed with his comrade.

   “Are you even the least bit happy for me?” he asked quietly after parking the car back by the barn, but before stepping out of it.

   “Pero…” the other man sighed.

   “No, tell me honestly: do you want to be here at all today? Because no one is forcing your hand, but if you’re going to be here, then at least try to be part of the love, instead of sitting like a thundercloud in the distance, waiting to block out the sun.”

   Will closed his eyes and let his head fall forwards a bit then, seeming to struggle with something, although what that might be, his brother could only guess at, because the man seemed determined not to share his innermost thoughts with anyone.    For all his progress, he still kept himself cut off from the world around him, rarely even engaging with it even on a superficial level, much less in any meaningful way.

   “I’m not sure that I remember what happiness is, Tov,” he started, still with his eyes closed, but he opened them before continuing, staring out at the fairytale wedding your best friend had created with little more than nature and electricity. “But I see how happy you are, and I want that for you.    I want you to have everything that I never could.”

   “Ay, hermano… I know you do not see this, but you can still have those things too,” Pero tried, but then Will’s eyes fell shut again and he shook his head firmly.

   “No. Even if my heart somehow allowed it, my fear would never let me go there. That’s one part of me that even your wife can’t reach.”

   “Hey, do not get ahead of yourself, she’s not my wife yet.”

   “Sure, she is. Just not legally.”

   That made Pero chuckle, because it was absolutely true, and it was as close to a joke as he’d heard from his old friend in what felt like forever.

<><><><><> 

   Abby returned with Mae after just twenty minutes, at which point, the only thing you had left to do was put the dress on, which was going to be put off for as long as possible to prevent mishaps.    Which meant that there was nothing preventing you from just playing with your daughter for a while.

   You were back home while you waited for the boys to get ready, so all her toys and favourite things were available, and she had you all to herself, with the exception of one very pleased German Shepherd.    Groot had had his own little spa-day while you’d been in hair and make-up, getting bathed, blow-dried and combed until his coat shined, by the local dog-grooming specialist. And he was so proud of his impeccable exterior.

   Although, not too proud to still roll around on the floor and play.    Mae had learned that if she stood up and started walking, the dog would come to her side and let her use him as a crutch, or just keep her from hitting her head against things.    But the thing she loved the most, was if she happened to fall, because then he’d mirror her, dropping to the floor and rolling over as if he too had taken a spill.

   Almost like he knew that she might consider falling a failure, and wanted her to know that there was nothing wrong with falling, because everyone does sometimes.    In any case, it always made her smile when she saw him do that, no matter how sad or upset she might be, but since she was already happy today, it made her laugh hysterically instead.

   Soon enough, though, the door opened, and your father’s voice came booming through the house.    He had quite a tight schedule the poor man, but he seemed to love it. He was used to it, after all, as well as military level planning, and precision execution, so in truth, this was where he really thrived. In the thick of it.

   “Bumblebee? You still here, sweetheart? No cold feet?”

   “In the living room, dad. And my feet are currently too hot,” you called back, and watched him walk in and absorb the sight before him.

   Mae had decided to build a castle out of pillows and blankets, and for some reason, you needed to be the base of this castle, which was why you were on your back on the floor, with about twenty things on top of you, including the dog.

   “Hah, look at that. You might have a future architect here, Bee.”

   “Let’s hope so,” you chirped, just as your daughter realized that her grandfather had stepped in, and immediately abandoned the castle.

   “Go on and get dressed now, Bee. I’ve got everything set up outside, as soon as you’re ready, we’ll get going,” he smiled at you while picking up Mae.

   “Okay. Will you get her changed in the meantime? Her clothes are hanging on the crib.”

   “Yeah, we got it, mama.”

   Your baby had repeatedly proven herself to not like dresses, which was why her wedding outfit consisted of a crème coloured overall, soft and stretchy so that she’d be comfortable, and her favourite sneakers, which were green.    She was gonna have as good a day as possible, and that didn’t require her to look perfect.

   The same could be said for you, but you actually wanted to look a little dolled up.    This was likely to be the only time in your life when you were gonna have an opportunity to play Cinderella at the ball, or Belle at her dance with the prince, and you wanted to take the opportunity to live in a fantasy, just for this one day.

   Still, your makeup wasn’t over the top and while your hair was certainly better tamed than you’d ever manage on your own, it wasn’t tied up in any complicated fashion. Most of it hung freely, with just a few tendrils pulled back so that there’d be something to attach a few small white flowers to.

   The dress, however, was in a league of its own.    It was a sweetheart cut tulle dress, with a top layer of snow-white lace that had been embroidered with leaves and the same type of flowers that were now in your hair.    The skirt wasn’t flared, but there the lace had been bedazzled by thousands of beads and glass diamonds, most thickly gathered at the waist, carrying on down to your mid-thigh, before they started getting more scattered.

   It was a masterpiece, made and tailored just for you, by the wonder woman that was your sister Arabella.

   Stepping out of your room once it was on, your father momentarily lost all his marbles on the floor somewhere, along with his jaw, which was all the proof you needed that it was indeed perfect.    You smiled at him, and his mirroring smile was enough to bring tears of joy to his eyes.

   “Oh, my baby… you’re so beautiful,” he said through the stocking in his throat, while carefully stepping closer to hug you.

   “Thank you, dad. I feel really special today. Just so full of love…” you croaked in return, trying not to let your own tears spill, even though your makeup was waterproof.

   “I know what you mean. So, let’s go celebrate all this love, shall we?” he suggested, stepping back to pick up Mae, who was trying to grab the hem of your dress because it was shiny and much too tempting for baby fingers.

   But you weren’t bothered by her potentially picking a few little sparkles off, so you reached for her once he’d gotten her up, and he handed her to you without complaint.    Instead, he picked up your bag of essentials for the evening, slinging it over his shoulder before grabbing your phone and keys from the shelf in the hall, and then held the door for his girls so that he could lock it for you once you and Groot were outside.

   There was a small train on the back of the dress, just enough to make it fan out behind you, and he was quick to sweep it up while you made your way to the carriage.    Like the true romantic that your father was, he’d insisted on taking you to your wedding by horse and carriage, and it wasn’t some rickety old thing either. It was a retired Royal carriage that he’d bought on auction and restored to its former glory.    A convertible model, black, with silver detailing and deep green velvet on the seats.

   He helped you and Mae get in via the step that fell out whenever the door on the side was opened, letting Groot hop in last, and then he climbed into the coachman’s seat and grabbed the reins.    Happy and Ike were excellent carriage horses, content to trudge along at a moderate pace and would always stay perfectly still whenever they were brought to a stop, needing no groomsmen or helpers.

   Your daughter absolutely loved the ride, and joyously sat in your lap, pointing at everything she could see, for once not speeding past too quickly for her to even make anything out, getting increasingly excited every time you named what she indicated, even though she had no idea what most of it was.    Meanwhile, the dog sat on the seat opposite you, happily letting his tongue catch the wind.

   Since your house was already on the outskirts of town, the ride wasn’t that long, which resulted in you reaching your destination a little too quickly.    But, as it happened, that would turn out to be most fortuitous.    Because while you stopped a bit down the road from the barn, along a stretch that was lined on either side by very old maple and beech trees, a familiar frame came towards you.

   A gangly, middle-aged black man, with a digital camera that probably cost more than your average monthly salary, slung around his neck.

   “Mr. Okusanya… Hi. It’s so good to see you again,” you said, smiling at the memory of the only other time you’d seen him, nervously trying to order a drawing of a diamond-decorated cock, much to Pero’s polite confusion.

   “Thank you for letting me invite myself, Mrs. Tovar.”

   You glossed over the premature use of the name, because you already loved how that sounded, and really, what difference did an hour make?

   “After your kind response to my handicap and the loss of your order, how could I not?” you replied, unable to stop the slight sorrow that always accompanied any reminder of your lost skill and passion, from slipping into your voice and your expression.

   “Oh, never mind that. As it turns out, just voicing that particular interest without being ridiculed or belittled in any way, helped me to be a more confident person.    Thanks to your kindness, I’m getting married too, next year. And I never would’ve dared to tell him anything about that if you hadn’t opened the door for me first, so believe me, I am only ever grateful to you.”

   His words sent a flurry of warmth and compassion through your chest, as well as a slight swell of pride that you’d been able to do something so profound for this man, by just being yourself, leaving you speechless but smiling widely.

   “And on the subject of my gratitude, if I may, I’d very much like to repay you,” he added, after wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. “Will you let me take your wedding photos?”

   Stunned, you just stared at him for a moment, and then nodded your agreement, because it was just such a wonderful thing to offer.    You hadn’t even considered hiring a professional photographer, because you hadn’t felt up for the whole idea of structuring a photoshoot into your schedule and then having a stranger, and essentially a paparazzi, lurking about all day.

   But this wasn’t a stranger. And as a photographer, he was used to nature motifs, including animals which were generally mobile and required him to blend into the background not to startle them away.    Odds were, you’d never even notice him moving around the guests.

   “That’s very kind of you, sir,” your father suddenly entered the conversation, having stayed out of it while you got reacquainted, and because you hadn’t remembered to introduce him.

   “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry!    Amari, this is my father, Dean. Dad, this is one of my former clients, Amari Okusanya,” you hurried to correct your mistake, and then remembered your child, still sitting on your lap. “And this is my daughter Mae.”

   The two men exchanged pleasantries and then Amari suggested taking some photos right there, with the gorgeous trees for a backdrop, while you waited for the clock to strike.    You stepped out of the carriage and followed his instructions, letting him move the skirt of the dress around to experiment with angles and movement, all the while feeling mildly lost since you’d never posed for anyone before.

   But he noticed and suggested taking a few pics with you by the horses, which instantly set you at ease. And then with Groot, then Dean, then all of you, then just you and Mae, and he kept going like that, just keeping you occupied, allowing him to snatch candid photos in between the posed ones.    Until you were suddenly out of time.

<><><><><><> 

   Pero heard the carriage arrive on the road outside the barn. The shoes that he had put on your father’s horses clapping against the pavement in a double rhythm, bringing him his bride and partner in all things.    It made his heart swell just knowing that he was about to have you beside him again, ready to declare to all these witnesses, that you had chosen him.

   He didn’t know who anyone in the room was, save for Abby, Will, Claire, Kate and Cody, but it didn’t matter. They were all there to celebrate your love, and for that, he appreciated each and every one of them.    William had taken the stage with him as his best man, but stood like a statue behind him, participating only with his presence, not his joy or excitement, which Pero could forgive because at least he was there. For a long time, that was more than he’d dared to hope.

   Abby was across from him, on the other side of the altar, ready to free your hands and support you in any way you might need, already smiling with tears in her eyes before you’d even arrived.    The two of you had been through so much together, throughout your lives, and been able to stick together through all of it, creating an unbreakable friendship that he would always cherish and protect.

   The orchestra was lining the entrance of the barn, so when they started playing, it was because you and Dean had told them that it was time.    That you were ready.    So, when the music started, everyone rose to their feet, and Pero sucked in a nervous breath, suddenly unable to see anything but the sunlight that shone through the door.

   Mae was too small to be a flower-girl, but Groot wasn’t.    He came first, walking down the aisle while pulling his little sister in a tiny cart, attached to him via a harness, both of whom Pero had designed and constructed especially for today.    And, ever the princess, Mae smiled and cooed as she was paraded in front of all the fancily dressed guests, all smiling at the adorable scene.

   Then suddenly… there you were.

   As if the sun itself had beamed you into that wide doorway, you seemed to glide into view, shining almost too bright for him to make you out at first, but as you stepped closer, the golden light released you, letting him see all of you.    His breathing slowed even as his heart pounded harder. Because however nervous he’d been before, your presence always soothed him. Even now.

   Unknowingly, he tried to step towards you, but a hand on his elbow held him back, reminding him that there was a procedure to this.    He heard Will’s voice somewhere behind him whisper almost reverently about how beautiful you were, and he could only nod in agreement.    He heard Abby snivel quietly, and saw your eyes turn to her with a tear-filled smile, just as you reached the altar and handed her your small bouquet of wildflowers, picked from around your house and the meadows around the barn.

   Then Dean’s large hand was suddenly on Pero’s shoulder, and he was slightly startled to realize that he’d never even noticed your father walking in beside you.    The older man was a mess of tears and smiles, pulling his adopted son in for a hug before he could bring himself to step aside, and let Pero step up to take his place at your side.    The two men laughed quietly together for a moment, at their own overflowing emotions, and when they pulled apart, you were smiling at them with an equally overwhelmed heart.

   With pride oozing from his every pore, Pero stepped over to you, offering you his arm for support as you climbed up the two steps onto the altar, while your other hand lifted the dress to keep you from tripping.

   “You look so beautiful, my love,” you suddenly said, while Abby fiddled with your skirt so that it wouldn’t twist around your legs.

   He hadn’t expected that hearing your voice would made his heart jump and pinch and bounce with excitement and gratitude, so when his own eyes abruptly filled with tears, he didn’t know what to do except just smile at you.

   “My sun…” was all he managed to choke out in response, but you understood.

   He had always been a star in your orbit. And he always would be.

<><><><><> 

   The entire ceremony was overwhelming for so many reasons.    Walking up that aisle and seeing him standing there, actually in awe of you, was almost more than your heart could bear.    Your ears registered Mae cooing and babbling when Groot brought her to Claire on the front row, next to the empty seat where your father would sit, but your eyes saw only the stranger.

   And in a single second, you saw everything that had happened between you.    From that first unwelcomed kiss, to finding him on your porch, inviting him in, letting him claim you… and everything that had followed because of it.    So much of it had been bad, but you’d still suffer through all of it again, a hundred times, for the love and joy and wonder that it had brought into your life.

   Then he was taking your hand, and his touch brought you back to the moment, to the reality of the man before you. The man you’d chosen, risked everything for, and allowed yourself to love without boundaries or restraints.    The words came of their own, from some part of your brain that you weren’t in control over right that second.

   You wondered if your face mirrored his in that moment. If you too looked as though the protective dam around your heart had burst open, flooding the air around you with rainbows, sparkles and sunshine.    You hoped so.

   The priest took over then, and as per your instructions, kept it short, sweet and light-hearted, as churchly rituals could so easily become stuffy and stale.    But this pastor was young and had a modern view of church, believing it to be something that needed to adapt to the present, as all things did, and had no trouble drawing laughter from the crowd and thereby stripping the ceremony of all nervousness or tension.

   You’d written your own vows, and just getting through them without forgetting every other word became another humorous spectacle, but one that you both felt entirely comfortable with.    Because how were you supposed to say such powerful and incredible things to one another, in front of a hundred people, without getting flustered? It was impossible to begin with, so there was nothing to do but laugh at it and soldier on.

   The engagement ring that he’d made for you had been made of steel, polished until it shined and then engraved with a planet.    And the wedding rings told the story to completion. Identical in every way, except that yours added a star next to your planet, while his depicted that same star, but falling into a symbol of infinity.    So simple, and so perfect.

   And then, finally, there was the kiss.

   The priest had only barely gotten through the sentence when Pero surged forwards. And you weren’t far behind yourself, resulting in a minor crash of your bodies against each other, and more laughter from the crowd, followed by cheering and applause.    But you barely even heard it over the rushing of your blood and the happy pounding of your heart.

   His arms held you so tightly to him, even long after the kiss had ended, unwilling to let you slip even an inch away from him. But not out of fear or possessiveness.    He just didn’t wanna let you go. He wanted to feel your joy just as much as you wanted to feel his. To touch your skin and feel how it warmed with the desired contact.    But most of all, both of you just wanted to live in that moment and never let it go.

<><><><><><> 

   The guests saw nothing strange at all about being asked to bring their folding chairs with them to their seats, and without complaints, grabbed one each and started making their way outside to the tables, where the food had been served during the end of the ceremony.    You hadn’t scheduled any speeches or really, anything at all past this point. From now on, it was just a feast, where the goal was simply for everyone to enjoy themselves.

   There were no seating arrangements and no folder with any program for anyone to read or stick to. Just good food, an orchestra that took requests, plenty of wine and beer for those that fancied it, and an announcement from you that everyone was welcome to dig in.    That was it. The rest would happen if it happened, and however it wanted to happen.

   During the meal, Pero really struggled to look at anything but you, or occasionally Mae when her sounds drew his attention. But she was with her grandfather and as happy as any kid could be, so his focus kept coming back to you.    He found himself watching the silliest little details about you, like how you held your fork, or how your throat moved when you chewed. The tiny hairs on your arms that fluttered in the breeze.

   Not one drop of alcohol crossed his lips, and yet he felt utterly drunk all day.

   “If I may have your attention, dear guests…” Dean eventually found the microphone, unable to keep from giving a speech to his only daughter on her special day. “I can’t let this occasion pass, without saying a few things.”

   His rich, strong voice carried to every ear across the open area, and everyone fell into a deeply respectful and complete silence.

   “A father’s greatest fear in life, is that his children won’t be safe. But when that life is good, and his children are safe, his fear instead becomes about their happiness. And for a long time, I thought I knew what a happy Bumblebee looked like.    But as it would turn out, I was very wrong.”

   He paused then, needing to swallow against the tears that were already coming.

   “When Pero entered her life, my daughter became something new to my eyes. Something I’d never seen before. It would take me some time to figure out what that was, but eventually, I realized that it was in fact, security.    It was the comforting and effortless happiness of knowing that her heart is safely held by someone else’s hands. Someone who truly values that gift and without hesitation, returns it.    Now, that doesn’t mean that life is suddenly perfect. But it does mean that the good moments, truly are as good they can be, and that’s something to be grateful for.    That’s what you give to my baby girl, Pero, and that is why I will always love you, my son.”

   If he had planned to add more to that speech, that plan was halted then, because that was as much as he could get through before the emotions became too overwhelming.    And not just for him.    Unable to let such amazing words go without acknowledgement, Pero rose and stepped over to the man, pulling him into a strong hug that saw them both break down for a minute.

   But when they pulled apart, it was with smiles in their features and joy in their hearts, even if their faces were drenched in tears.    And you were right there behind him, throwing your arms around your father’s neck as soon as it was free, letting him lift you off the ground with how tightly he held you.    The crowd applauded again, and there weren’t many dry eyes among them.

   After that, the late afternoon flowed in its own kind of rhythm, sometimes slow and mellow, with conversation and mingling, and sometimes energetic and loud, filled with dance and laughter.    It rose and fell, over and over, but Pero seemed to be sailing his own river in the middle of that ocean, remaining steadfast at the same pace, no matter how rowdy the seas churned around him. Undoubtedly lulled by his continued drunkenness on love.

   Until Groot suddenly placed his head in his lap and whined unhappily.

   The sound was so unexpected that it made him pause and turn his entire attention to the animal, and when he did, Groot got up and started walking away from the festivities.    He stopped when the human didn’t follow, looking back at him with another whine, so he got up and fell in behind the dog, wondering what he could possibly want to show him at that particular place and time.

   The canine led him across the entire field that connected to the barn, passed the horses that had been set free to graze while the festivities carried on, all the way down to the creek, the same one that trailed past your house, further up the road.    And when they got there, Groot indicated something of interest down by the bigger rocks that were closest to the water.

   “Of course, it must be down there…” he sighed, looking at the dog with a quizzical brow. “Do I have to? Can you not go down there and bring whatever it is you want me to see up here?”

   The animal just kept looking at the rocks, slowly wagging his tail while he waited for the human to get the message.

   “Fine. But just so you know, this suit was very expensive,” he griped as he loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves.

   Carefully climbing down the slippery bank, he miraculously managed to reach the bottom without any mishap, and started looking for whatever the dog was indicating.    At first glance, he missed it, because he wasn’t expecting it to be something that connected to his past. But once he saw the small hidden package, he already knew what it was going to be, and his heart skipped a beat.

   At the Falcons, they’d been taught that if they ever got separated from their partner and were fatally injured, to hide an identifying mark within a scarf or sock, and then use nature to conceal it.    They hadn’t worn dog-tags or anything specifically identifying like that, but their partners had known their every item of clothing and every one of their possessions.

   And since William had still refused to rejoin society, Pero was very much aware of exactly how few things the man now owned, and exactly how each of those things looked.    A worn and frayed cap that had once belonged to a young Dean, so old now that it no longer had any colour, had been bundled up and jammed down between two larger rocks, and then almost completely covered by mud and leaves.

   He pulled it out, placing it on one of the larger rocks before gently prying it open to find a neatly folded note, protected by a plastic bag, inside.    Sorrow filled his soul as he stuffed the bag into his pocket and started climbing back up the bank, somehow managing to escape without muddying up his pants, only to then sit down in the soft grass back at the edge of the field.

   Groot instantly knew that he wasn’t doing well, and sat down beside him, leaning his entire body against Pero’s side, for support as well as comfort.    He gratefully scratched the dog’s chest for a few beats, to thank him, but also to delay opening the note.    Because even if it wasn’t as bad as he feared, it wasn’t going to be anything good.

   He hadn’t seen Will at the party for a while, but he’d assumed that the man had just wandered off to escape the positive atmosphere for a bit, since he wasn’t susceptible to it, which probably made it grating to listen to and be surrounded by.    He really hadn’t thought that something like this might happen. Especially not now, after so much time had passed and so much progress had been made.

   But there was no avoiding it. He’d have to read it sooner or later, so he might as well get it over with now, when the atmosphere of love that was waiting for him back by the barn, would help him endure whatever pain this would cause him.    So, he pulled the bag out and ripped the plastic open, shoving it back in his pocket so it wouldn’t fly off on the wind while he unfolded and read the piece of paper, unbiddenly recognizing that it was a sheet from the shopping-notepad on Dean’s fridge.

   Which meant that he hadn’t done this on impulse. It had been planned, since early that morning, at the latest. But probably much further back than that.

   ~Pero,    I know that this will hurt you, especially today, but I can’t put it off any longer.    My life was supposed to end that day, with them. Everything after that has been wrong. Just layer upon layer of wrong.    I didn’t have it in me to end it back then, and I still don’t. But I’m also not gonna fight for a life that isn’t meant to be. I’ll leave my fate to nature, and if she decides to end me, I’ll finally get to rest. If she doesn’t, then I guess that’s just my penance.    Either way, this is our ending, brother.    I never deserved you, but I have loved you all the same.

   Please, tell your wife that I will forever carry her bravery and kindness in my heart. Tell her I’m sorry.    I am so very sorry.    Will~

   He read it three times before he could accept it. And then another three before the tears made it too hard to see.    The pain made him want to blame the man for giving up, after all your effort spent trying to save him, to give him a chance to live again. It made him want to scream and curse his brother to hell for making all that struggle and heartache and misery pointless.

   But he couldn’t, because that wasn’t true.    The harsh truth was that Will had never been given a choice. You and Pero had decided to try and undo Lang’s conditioning, unable to trust anything he’d said while under another man’s thumb.    And then, when you’d finally started breaking through, the two of you still hadn’t believed him when he’d asked you to stop.

   No matter how much progress he’d made, you had never heard him when he’d said that he didn’t want this life.    Because you hadn’t wanted to hear it. Either of you.    And that now left the Spaniard with two questions.

   Should he wipe his tears away, plaster a fake smile on his lips and go back to try and let the positive atmosphere purge his sorrows? Or should he take you aside and tell you what had happened, ruining the day for both of you?    But he already knew the answer, because there was no way that you wouldn’t see the pain in his eyes, no matter how well he tried to hide it.

   You knew about the conversation that had taken place between him and William that day when you’d invited him to the house, so you knew that he hadn’t been doing so good.    Still, Pero felt certain that this would somehow hurt you even more than it did him. Because to him, his brother represented his only good childhood memories, the only positive influence on his entire existence prior to meeting you.

   But to you, he represented something far greater.    Even with how briefly you’d known him, the poor man had somehow become tethered to your sense of hope, your belief in miracles and the healing power of love and acceptance.    And your husband feared that losing that was going to rip a hole through your soul.

   Even so, he couldn’t lie to you. Not today, when you were celebrating togetherness.

   He got up and started walking back, wiping his tears and straightening his tie on the way, doing his best not to let all the guests see how hard he was fighting to hold himself together, as he made his way through the crowd to find you.    But you knew at first glance, before he’d even reached you, and came to his side to follow him out of earshot from everyone.

   He couldn’t say it, so he showed you the note instead, and watched with a sinking heart as the words drilled through your being like blunt swords.    You didn’t say anything at first. You just closed your eyes and tried to breathe. Tried to keep it from overpowering you.    And you managed it a lot better than he had.

   “He’s gone,” you whispered, but it felt like you were saying it to yourself.

   As though you were trying to tell yourself, convince yourself, that this was the new reality and that you had to let it be.

   “I don’t know what to do…” Pero admitted, gesturing blindly towards the guests and the party, feeling so torn between the joy of the wedding and the sorrow of this unexpected tragedy.

   “There’s nothing we can do,” you said, and your voice was so sad, but also unexpectedly strong. “He’s gone.”

   It seemed that you had decided to lean on love, and to let that hold you up, at least until this day was over. And in your surprising resolve, he somehow found a path back to the light of his heart.    And as the day turned to evening, and the world darkened, revealing the thousands of twinkle lights that hung above the crowd and throughout the barn, the two of you did somehow manage to find your way back to a resigned sort of peace.

   Perhaps in the knowledge that he was still alive, or in the fact that at the very least, neither of you had made this decision for him.    That for the first time in a very long time, William Garin was free.

-=¤=-

   “Daddy!”

   “Hey, Mae-Mae! How was school?” he asked as his daughter came bouncing towards him, smiling widely as she waved a piece of paper in her hand.

   “It was fun! Look! We made pictures of our hands!” she excitedly explained while handing him the picture.

   “Oh, wow! That does sound like fun. Maybe we should ask mama if she has any fun paint at the shop, and we could all make pictures of our hands.”

   “Yeah!”

   “Yeah, let’s do that. But right now, we must go home and let Groot out.”

   “Okay, daddy.”

   He opened the car door for her, and since she was three years old now, she could climb in and up into the car-seat by herself.

   “Hi, Jace!” she called once she was in her seat, but Pero gently hushed her.

   “Shh… He is sleeping, angel. We will wake him when we get home.”

   “Oh. Sorry,” she whispered, trying to peer at her little brother at the other end of the backseat.

   “It’s good that you are excited to see him, just remember that he is still very small and has lots of growing to do.”

   “And we grow best in our sleep, right daddy?” she proudly repeated what you’d told her on numerous occasions when she’d been trying to stay up past her bedtime.

   “That’s right.”

   He booped her nose and then made sure she was safely buckled up before closing the door and getting in the driver’s seat.    Once home, he let her out first, handing her the house keys once she was on the ground, before rounding the car to pick up his nine-month-old who loved nothing more than to sleep, and especially in the car.

   “Hey, dormilón… time to wake up, we’re home,” he cooed once the boy was in his arms.

   Meanwhile, Mae was already unlocking the front door to let the patient Shepherd out, giggling as he playfully bounced around her before running over to greet Pero and make sure that everything was alright with the family, before he felt okay to go relieve himself.

   While they waited for you to get home, Pero played with Mae while simultaneously tidying up the house, getting dinner started, changing Jace’s diaper, and doing some laundry.    The trashcan in the kitchen was full, so while his son had gone back to sleep, he told Groot to keep an eye on the girl while he took the garbage out to the bin.    He had absolute faith that the dog wouldn’t let his daughter anywhere near anything dangerous in the minute that it would take him to get back.

   But just as he’d dumped the bag into the bin, a movement to his left caught his eye.    It was so small that he assumed it to be a trick of his own senses, which seemed to be confirmed when he looked towards the imagined movement and found nothing there.    Dismissing it, he turned to walk back inside, only to find himself stopping halfway there. And this time, he wasn’t imagining anything.

   Before he’d even turned, he knew that it was real. As though the pressure in the air had suddenly changed, he felt the man’s presence.    Slowly turning his head, his long lost brother came into view between the trees. Alive, and by the looks of it, doing alright.    A tear-filled smile spread across Pero’s face, and then the man was gone.

   He waited until after dinner, when the kids were tucked in and sleeping soundly and the two of you were huddled up on the couch together, trying to stay awake after a long day, to tell you about it.

   “I saw him today,” he said softly into your hair, as you rested your head against his chest.

   “Who?” you answered, sounding comfortably sleepy.

   “William.”

   It took you a second to absorb that, and then you sat up so that you could turn your body around and look at him. As if you needed to see his eyes to believe that it could be true.

   “He only gave me a glimpse, but… he’s alive, Bee,” he continued once you could see him, and suddenly your entire being seemed to shine.

   You didn’t say a word, and you didn’t need to. He could see how that part of your soul, that part that he’d been so afraid would get ripped to pieces by losing Will, came back together right then.    You’d been so composed after you’d read that note that he had come to believe that he’d been wrong about how you’d take it. But now, a year and a half later, he could see how you healed as your faith in miracles was restored.

   You didn’t know it yet, but as your children would grow up, a mysterious stranger would watch them from the shadows.    Time and time again, he would shield them from harm in an ever more dangerous world, and even though they’d get frightened on the few occasions that they’d happen to catch a glimpse of him, their father would always tell them to trust him.

   And when they’d ask him why in the world they should do that, he would tell them the three most important lessons that life with you had taught him:

   “Because even a killer can be a good person. Even a mother can be a terrible person. And even a stranger can be a brother.”

THE END

===============

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Honestly... I totally forgot about that when I wrote this. Which is shocking, because there are horses on Dean's ranch as well, and I'm a big believer in their healing powers.

*disappointedly shaking my head at myself*

Part 29 - The Performance

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

It's time to open the doors to the new shop, and while you're rediscovering your life-long passion, Pero is cogitating on several things, both good and bad.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! Author's Note: Unfortunately, due to the massive decline in interest in this story, I've decided to let Part 30 be the final chapter. I simply don't have the motivation to keep it going, while dealing with real life struggles, when each chapter seems less appreciated than the former. I have loved writing this, however, and I will forever be indebted to those few of you who have stuck with me all the way. I wish that I could just sit down to write and not care if anyone reads it or not, but sadly, I'm just not that confident. But I thank you all, and I hope only good things come to you in your lives <3 Love, Jay

Word Count: 4272 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 30

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   Monday couldn’t come fast enough, but it also sprinted towards you way too quickly, which was stressful in a simultaneously fun and somewhat daunting way.    You were so looking forward to seeing how many people would turn up, what they’d think and how much work you’d get to do.    Obviously, you hoped that your calendar would get fully booked, but businesses like these weren’t always successful, regardless of how good the products were.

   It was a bit of a niche sort of store, and it was going to depend heavily on customer reviews and recommendations, just like your studio had, otherwise it simply wouldn’t hold people’s interests.    But you were positive. You’d done this before and you’d been very successful, so there was no reason to think that it would tank this time around.

   So, on Monday morning, you got up early, letting Pero sleep in after having been up with Mae for parts of the night.    You took her into the kitchen with you while you made scones for breakfast, using the time that they were in the oven to fix your hair and put on a touch of make-up, for the first time in about forever.

   You’d showered the previous evening and made sure that your favourite fancy clothes were clean, so by the time Pero walked into the kitchen, drawn by the smell of the bread, he was ground to a halt as soon as he saw you.

   “Ay, mi amor… You look amazing,” he murmured while his eyes trailed your form from top to bottom and back again.

   “Thank you, I feel amazing,” you chirped, making him smile.

   You had Mae in her baby stool by the island, and your happy tone seemed to register with her, because your words were closely followed by an enthusiastic half laugh, half shriek as she looked at you.

   “What’s that, Babybee? Are you happy too, sweet girl?” you playfully babbled in return, coaxing her into a full laugh.

   But then Pero’s arms encircled your waist from behind, and his lips found that spot on your neck that he loved to nuzzle, and you knew where that usually led.

   “Hey, hey, we don’t have time for that, honey,” you admonished, but your voice was too happy and your tone much too inviting for him to take that seriously.

   “I’ll be quick, I promise,” he hummed in your ear, low and sensual, knowing full well what his voice did to you.

   “You always say that, but you never are,” you tried, still entirely unconvincing.

   “I can’t help it that you enchant me whenever we make love,” he was practically purring now, while his hands were leaving hot trails on the sides of your thighs, where he was slowly pulling your skirt up.

   “Which is precisely why this is not the time. I really don’t wanna be late today,” you said, and the words were true enough that your tone got firm and decisive, making him pull back.

   He only ever pushed when he knew that you needed or wanted him to, whether you were aware of it yourself or not, and that was not the case today.

   “It is going to be a wonderful day, pintora,” he answered, back to his usual warm tone, kissing the top of your shoulder before stepping away to check the bread and pull it out of the oven.

   “Yes, it is. I’ve decided that no matter what, today is gonna be fantastic, because it’s a new beginning, for better and worse.”

   “I like this attitude,” he smiled at you, and you giddily mirrored him.

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   You arrived at the shop, aptly named “Ab-Bee’s Corner”, with over thirty minutes to spare, but Abby was already there, putting the finishing touches to the décor and making sure that the display windows were clean and inviting.    As before in your studio, there were trees inside the shop, and plenty of potted flowers as well, both for the warmth that they added to the feel of the space, but also for the aesthetics.

   It had such an inviting atmosphere that even from the outside, it looked comforting and homely, more like a living room in the middle of a park, than a shop.    Another indicator of just how skilful your best friend was, and how right you’d been to offer her this collaboration, as well as trust her to get it right, almost entirely without your involvement.

   Just one of the many things that Pero loved about the relationship between you.

   “Morning, guys!” she called as you came into the shop. “I’m so excited, I’ve been here since 6am! I couldn’t sleep.”

   “Good morning. I slept surprisingly well, actually,” you answered with a grateful glance at your partner, and he smiled in return, knowing that you were referring to him getting up to take care of Mae whenever she’d stirred in the night.

   He never minded getting up to tend to her, because he was still so baffled that she was even real and that he got to have her and care for her, so he was never going to complain about what little discomforts he might have to endure for the sake of her wellbeing. Or yours, for that matter.    His love for the little girl was every bit as empowering as it was frightening, and his love for you only grew deeper every day that he got to share with you.

   “Aw, you’re so good to my best girl, Pero. To think that I ever thought you might wanna drag her into the woods and bury her,” Abby observed, having noticed the look between the two of you.

   He knew that she was saying it as a joke, but he also knew that she really had feared that something like that might happen, back in the beginning. Which, at the time, had been a perfectly reasonable fear.

   “You have good instincts, Abby. You were right to trust them, you were just also unaware of how enchanted I already was with your girl,” he offered, and she chuckled at that.

   “Good thing, too, or there would’ve been no one around to save us from asshole-Pete,” she grumbled, unable to say his name without having to fight the urge to spit on it. “And I know that an argument could be made that he might not have come after us like that if you hadn’t shown up, but really… Assholes are assholes. He would’ve done something eventually, no matter what.”

   Neither you nor your bestie were aware of what Pero had found in his apartment, because he had never seen any point in telling you that your naked body had been on display above the sicko’s bed.    It wouldn’t help you to know that, if anything, it might just make you feel uncomfortable about moving around your house in whatever attire (or lack thereof) that you might want to.

   You should be able to feel free to strut around naked in your own home, without constantly wondering if you might be the target of an unseen camera lens.    And whether Pete was still around or not, there was no telling what tricks your mind might come up with if you learned about that. You might not react much at all, but it was also possible that you’d lose that comfort completely, so your partner had made the decision that this was information that you simply had no use or need for.

   “Okay, how about we don’t ruin everyone’s good mood with a conversation about spineless and disgusting waste-products?” you chimed in after having parked a sleeping Mae in her stroller by the register.

   “We talking about Prescott?” Dean replied, coming into the store from the spacious storage room in the back.

   “Not anymore,” you happily said while dancing over to him to give him a giant hug. “Hi, dad. Thank you for being here with us today.”

   “Hey, now, Bumble, you know there’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he warmly assured you while he held you close for a long moment. “A brought enough cookies to feed half the town.”

   “Oh, you have high hopes, I hear,” you said as you pulled back with a grin.

   “Of course. This place is wonderful, and I know that people are gonna see that.    Don’t you worry, sweetheart, you’ll be drowning in orders soon enough, mark my words.”

   “Speaking of which, we are ten minutes away from officially opening,” Abby reminded you all. “So, let’s just do one final check that all the machines and gadgets are working and that we have all the materials in place.”

   Pero kept to the side as the rest of you got busy, with the pretence of keeping an eye on Mae, but in truth, he just wanted to look at you. Because you were probably completely unaware of it yourself, but that morning, it was the old you that he was seeing.    The artist. The creator who loved nothing more than to see people’s eyes light up when you showed them the physical representations of their dreams.    You’d taken such pride in being able to do that for others, and he just hoped that this would give you the chance to earn that pride once more.

   “Alright, Beebs. You do the honours,” Abby nodded at you with a wide grin when her watch turned 09:00.

   Literally skipping with excitement, you walked to the front door and flipped the “Closed” sign to “Open”, and just like that, the shop was officially open for business.    Neither you nor Abby expected any customers to come dropping in until around lunchtime, since it was a normal Monday, and thus, a workday for most people.    However, you had all completely underestimated the tour de force that was your father on a mission.

   It took less than fifteen minutes before the first customer walked in, and behind him was ten others, all of them military men and clearly familiar with Dean.

   “Welcome, boys! Come on over here, let me introduce you to my sweet Honeybee, her partner in life, Pero, and her partner in everything else, Abby,” your dad rattled off as he pointed to each of you.

   The men politely nodded and since there were a bit too many of them for everyone to introduce themselves in return, just one of them stepped forward and shook your hand.

   “Pleasure, miss, my name is Harper. Your father and my unit have collaborated on a few operations over the years.”

   “Ah, I see. Let me guess, he called you with some BS excuse for a conversation and ended up happening to mention that his beloved only daughter was in need of assistance, not really giving you the option to say no, and suggesting that you bring as much company as you could rally?” you speculated, crossing your arms and politely smiling at the men, all of whom looked increasingly embarrassed by the second.

   Harper just stared at you while you spoke, and when you fell silent with raised brows, challenging him to tell you that you were wrong, he huffed a bemused little chuckle and turned his gaze to Dean, standing right next to you by then.

   “Yeah, this one’s definitely your offspring, sir.”

   You smiled triumphantly while your father just laughed, entirely unbothered by being caught rigging the game, probably because it didn’t matter much to him how your shop received attention, only that it did.    He knew that even if people came there just to be polite or as a favour to him, they’d still help to spread the word and put your little business on the map, and that was good enough for him.

   “Okay, well, thank you for coming and being our first visitors!” you chirped, clearly happy just to have someone to entertain. “Feel free to have a look around, each station has its own function and creative purpose, allowing us to make a variety of custom items, from embroidered caps or clothes, to specialized flower arrangements, gift cards, photographic prints on canvases and so on.”

   The men slowly began to move around the shop, familiarizing themselves with everything on offer, and in just a few minutes, you and Abby got your first orders.    One of the stations offered customers tailormade leather jackets, something that Abby had apparently casually learned how to do from an elderly gentleman that she’d been a caregiver to some years back. He’d still been working then, even at over eighty years old, and had happily shared his craft with her.

   The officers loved the idea of their own “unit-jackets”, so they all ordered the same thing: bomber style winter jackets in medium-dark brown with white wool lining. All with their respective names embroidered on the right-hand side chest, and other little details that they just liked.    And considering that this was one of the pricier things on offer, just this order alone was enough to pay a full weeks-worth of salary for the two of you.

   Since Pero was standing close to the register, he could watch up close just how happy you were to get to be of use again, to get to work and feel like you were contributing to something, even if all you’d thus far done was taken a few orders and been nice to customers.

   “You are glowing, pintora,” he hummed at you when you came to cuddle with Mae once the men had left, too full of positive energy to just stand around and wait for someone else to walk in.

   “I love this!” you excitedly chimed, while twirling slowly in circles as you tried to make your daughter laugh. “I feel like I’ve suddenly woken up from hibernation, or something.”

   But that was as much as you had time for, because then the next customers walked in, and you quickly handed Mae to him before you headed back towards the door, grinning from ear to ear.    And that was just the beginning.    Throughout the entire day, people came and went, most of whom were familiar to you, but some were complete strangers, as even out-of-towners had found their way there.

   Both you and Abby had your work cut out for you, roping in Dean to entertain customers when you couldn’t tend to them fast enough, and even Pero found himself approaching a few of them, trying to keep them in the shop so that they wouldn’t give up and leave just because the owners were busy. And to that end, Mae was like pure gold.    She enchanted everyone, and endeared her father to their eyes, despite his lacking social skills.

   All of which meant that by the time you closed for the day, nearly two hours later than intended, you’d already earned enough to keep the place running for another six months.    But you were also dead on your feet, all of you. So, you helped each other clean up and prepare for the next day, and then locked up, said goodnight and headed to your respective homes, too exhausted to even talk about the day.

   Once home, you showered while Pero made dinner and then forced you to eat before collapsing in bed, fast asleep even as your head hit the pillow.    He smiled adoringly at you, sitting on the edge of the bed and watching you sleep for a few minutes, loving how relaxed and joyful you still looked, even while unconscious.    It had been a fantastic day, in every way it could’ve been, and he was so happy for you.

   But he wasn’t quite as harmonious as you in that moment.    His mind was still partly focused on the cell, buried half a mile from Dean’s house, where Will was fighting his demons, every second of every day.    It had become so obvious during that lunch the previous week. How far he still had to go, and how much he would be struggling for a long time to come. Perhaps forever.

   You’d invited him into the house without pause, without so much as explaining yourself to your baffled father, instead just pulling out a chair and all but ordering your guest to take a seat. And he’d obeyed without question.    He’d sat there, unwilling to participate in the conversation that you’d effortlessly kept flowing, covering a dozen different topics, but absorbing the positive atmosphere and the welcoming attitude of everyone present, whether he’d wanted to or not.

   It had been a strangely cathartic moment, for all of you. But it hadn’t ended the way you’d intended or hoped.    Will hadn’t done anything bad, but when Pero had escorted him back outside and into the woods, the conversation that had taken place had been so disheartening that he hadn’t even been able to share it with you yet. Not when you were so happy.

   “She’s pretty damned amazing,” Will had started, almost mumbling for fear that the words wouldn’t be welcome.

   But Pero had merely huffed bemusedly.

   “Ay, hermano. You do not know the half of it.”

   “No, you’re right. I can see that in her. The bare minimum that she lets me see, hiding away everything else to keep from overwhelming me. And even that’s impressive.”

   “And still, you did not speak to her today. Not one word.    Why?” the Spaniard had asked with genuine curiosity.

   “You really have to ask me that?” his brother had returned, truly perplexed. “Come on, man. She’s like this… unshakeable force of nature, or something. And I’m just… a broken record, so full of scratches that I won’t even play anymore.”

   “Is that what you think she sees when she looks at you?” Pero had countered after a moment, saddened by the man’s lack of pride or hope for himself, but still determined to prove him wrong.

   “I know that she doesn’t, but that’s ju-…”

  “Don’t even try to suggest that she only sees what she wants to see,” the Spaniard had cut him off. “She is not nearly that naïve, and you know damned well that she was the only one that could get to you, specifically because she sees the real you.    Just because you no longer wish to see that person, doesn’t mean that he is not there.”

   “You’re missing the point, Tovar,” Will had grumbled, and then sighed deeply. “What I mean is that it doesn’t matter how she, or anyone, sees me, I will never heal. Not the way you both want me to.    I’m never gonna get to the point where I can sit among you and feel like I belong.”

   He’d paused and then stopped walking too, turning to face Pero before he’d continued.

   “Not too long ago, Bee sat before me and reminded me that what she was offering was a family, and that I should at least give it a chance before throwing it away.    Well, I have, and do you know what I’ve seen?” he’d challenged, and then continued without waiting for a reply. “The closest thing to perfect that might ever have existed.    So, tell me, brother… where do I fit into that?”

   He hadn’t been able to come up with an answer to that. At least, not one that would’ve added anything useful to the conversation, so they’d walked the rest of the way in silence.    Will hadn’t made any attempt to avoid going back into the bunker or his cell, although Pero hadn’t seen any reason to chain him up anymore.    And when he’d left, he’d taken a detour back to the house, needing to think.

   He’d known that you would ask if anything had happened on the walk, and while he hadn’t wanted to lie, he’d also felt certain that the truth would’ve settled like salt in an open wound for you, after all the effort and care you’d put into getting the poor man this far.    So, he’d decided to delay telling you. Not for long, he hated keeping things from you and he knew that you’d be able to tell eventually anyway.    He just wanted you to have this wonderful new chapter of your life well underway first, so that you’d have other things to focus on and distract yourself with. Then he’d tell you.

-=¤=-

   The following morning, you woke up rested and practically chirping, waking Pero with hot kisses to his lips, cheeks, nose and forehead, until he finally started laughing at the ridiculous smacking sounds you deliberately made with each one.    He hadn’t slept much at all, between worrying about Will and tending to Mae’s little moments of unsettlement, so he was reluctant to respond at first, which only succeeded in making you double your efforts.

   “Good morning, my love. How’d you sleep?” you purred once he’d started chortling, resting your open hands over his heart and then putting your head down on top of them.

   “Uh… not that well, actually,” he admitted, knowing it would surprise you but unwilling to lie about even something that trivial, since he was already keeping shit from you.

   “Really? Why? I didn’t hear Mae-Mae once all night,” you pondered, losing some of your positive energy along the way.

   “She was probably a little over-tired. She didn’t cry or even wake, really, but she was unsettled, moving and fidgeting a lot,” he explained, all of which was true. “It went away if I held her for a bit, so I stayed there until it got better.”

   “Oh. You could’ve woken me if you were this tired, you know. I don’t mind, it’s just as much my responsibility.”

   “I know that, preciosa. But I… have a lot on my mind. I would probably not have slept either way.”

   That made you lift your head up, while a worried crease appeared between your brows, so before your happy energy had a chance to evaporate, he set about explaining the other thing that he’d been thinking about for a few days.    Or rather, the two things.

   “It’s nothing bad, quite the opposite, actually,” he smiled at you while turning on his side so that you were facing each other, and your energy quickly turned positive again.

   “Okay, I’m listening.”

   He grinned at your almost childlike joy, making you squirmy and giggly like an infatuated teenager, which was utterly adorable.

   “When I watched you in the shop, that first visit, my mind became irrevocably certain about two things concerning our future that I wish to tell you about,” he started, and you were suddenly so tense with anticipation that you couldn’t move, so he had to tease you a little bit by making you wait.

   “Well? What two things?” you demanded when he didn’t immediately continue, just like he knew you would.

   You’d never had much patience with good news, you were too drawn to and positively affected by them.    He grinned boyishly at your enthusiasm, making you wait another few seconds.    Then…

   “Firstly, I wish to tell you that I’d like to have another baby.”

   You didn’t need to say anything in response to that, because your body language was abruptly screaming at him, beaming with maternal pride and practically oozing with lust.    He had to wrap both his arms and legs around you to keep you from virtually attacking him, but you were both laughing at your sudden lack of control of yourself.

   “Wait, I have not told you the second thing yet,” he lovingly admonished you while you tried to squirm free so that you could take control and satisfy your burning craving.

   “No need, I know what it is,” you hummed against his neck, while scraping your teeth along his pulse-point, sending a flurry of heat to his groin.

   “You think so, hm?” he growled back while freeing your arms so that you could move as you pleased.

   You nodded then, meeting his eyes for one serious moment among the haze of arousal.

   “Now,” was all you said, but he knew exactly what you were referring to.

   “Will you marry me, pintora?” he asked with a soft heat churning in his chest, already knowing your answer, but also because he finally got to say those words without the joke.

   You smiled with a sparkle in your eyes that he had never seen before, mouthing “yes” because it was all you could do as your voice disappeared into the atmosphere around you.    The star which he perpetually fell for, now shining so strongly that nothing else was visible. Because that was how powerful your love was, and he never stopped being truly amazed that he had been the one to have gotten snared into your orbit.

   You still wore the necklace every single day, and now you would wear a ring too. One that he had also made himself, and not at all as recently as you might think.    Because for all the times that you’d joked about it, Pero had always known that he’d ask you for real.    You were his everything, and from the moment you’d allowed him into your life, there had never been a future without you.

   The ring was hidden away at your father’s place, though, so he couldn’t give it to you just yet. But there was no rush.    For the first time in your entire tumultuous relationship, everything was calm and good and nothing terrible was looming over you anymore. Not the Falcons or Lang, not your work or your family, not even William, because that would work out in time.

   So, he kissed you, made love to you while showering you with affection, both in words and touches, safe in the knowledge that you were his and he was yours, and nothing would ever change that.

===============

Link to Part 30

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Did it?

Part 28 - The Overture

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Changes are coming on several fronts, putting all of you in the starting blocks of a brand new future.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 4658 Masterlist (this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 29

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   Abby was an angel. That much you’d known pretty much forever, but it became even more noticeable when she took your entire family to see your new studio for the first time.    Because it wasn’t just that she’d exceeded your expectations in terms of how the actual building would look or how she would decorate it. It was the way that she’d turned it into something that wasn’t just an artist’s studio, but a sort of artistic playground.

   Instead of trying to replace what you’d lost, she’d created something completely new and wonderful, because she knew that there was no turning back time. That nothing would’ve ever felt right to you if she’d simply tried to recreate the past.    But it still had to be a place where creativity was celebrated and encouraged, even if you couldn’t be the creator anymore, because that was still who you were at heart.

   “So, my idea is that anyone can come in and make a request for anything art related, and what we can create here, like invitation cards or prints, 3D models, centrepieces made of flowers or food or whatever, we’ll make. And if it’s something we can’t make, we’ll commission other artists and take a small percentage of the cost.    And I’m thinking that there’s really no limit to how much we could expand if we want to, but there also won’t be anything preventing us from keeping it small and local and just the two of us.    What do you think, Beebs?”

   You were walking around the room, no longer divided by a reception area and a work area, instead the entire place was one open room, where all the different stations for various types of creative endeavours were fully visible from the moment someone stepped in.    It felt a bit like walking through Santa’s workshop, and it was so different to how your studio had looked that it didn’t even prompt a comparison in your mind.

   “I love it,” you said with a wide grin as you turned to look at her, seeing her breathe a big sigh of relief at your approval.

   “Really?” she still asked, needing confirmation that you weren’t just being the kind bestie, even though she knew that you always told her the truth.

   “It’s perfect, Abs… I mean it. I don’t how it could’ve ever been more perfect than this and I don’t know how to thank you enough,” you laughed and stepped over to her for a long and tight hug.

   “Just promise me we’re never selling it, that’s all I need to hear,” she chuckled in return.

   “I promise.”

   Mae cooed then, drawing your attention, so you went to Pero to steal her away from him, because you really wanted to share this moment with her.    She still fit so perfectly in your arms when you held her, and the way she smelled still made your hormones go all needy, wanting to care for and dote and protect.    And standing there, in the middle of this new chapter, you knew that without her, you never would’ve been able to take this new step with such ease.

   That day in your room two weeks earlier had crushed you, but not all of you. The part that wanted to cling to the past and keep hoping for miracles had been devastated, but the mother and daughter and partner in you hadn’t been affected much at all.    You knew that Pero had worried himself sick in the days that followed, thinking that you’d need a lot of time to process and get through that bitter realization, but he’d been wrong.

   You’d needed that breaking point, sure, but once you’d stepped over that threshold and accepted that your life as a sketch artist was over, every other part of you had stood ready and waiting to take over.    Like a river breaking a dam you’d crashed over the edge, only to flush away all the stale and dead parts of yourself, before becoming a calm waterway once more.

   Your daughter opened her eyes and met yours, and a big smile filled her little features, automatically making you mirror her as your heart swelled at the sight.

   “Welcome to the future, Mae-Mae,” you whispered.

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   Pero watched you stand there with your little baby in your arms, swaying slightly as though there was music playing, both of you smiling so sweetly at each other, when the sight suddenly made him feel something stir inside his chest.    He wasn’t sure what it was at first, but it overwhelmed him, making his eyes sting with the abrupt arrival of hot tears, and his lungs burn with each breath.

   But as he kept looking at you, kept searching your features for clues, he began to understand that it was the future that was flooding his heart with sensations.    The knowledge that you’d be there, no matter what. He would always have you and you would always love and want and share yourself him.    It was simply the purest joy and gratitude in existence that had gripped him.

   And before he knew it, he’d already made up his mind about two things, and he needed to share them with you as soon as possible.    But not right that minute.    That moment was too precious to interfere with, even though the things he wanted to tell you were good things. He just felt that they deserved their own moment.

   So, instead, he walked up to you and hugged you from behind, wrapped his arms around yours and kissed the top of your shoulder.

   “I am so happy that you like this new place, mi amor. I look forward to getting to see you enjoy working again.”

   “I look forward to it so much, I can’t even describe it,” you offered, still smiling as you leaned into his chest. “I don’t think I even realized how lost I’ve felt, not having that responsibility for so long, because I always loved that part the most. Just the privilege of being a creator.”

   “How soon will you be opening?” he asked, directing the question to both you and Abby.

   “Whenever you’re ready, Bee,” your best friend answered with a wink.

   “Then I say let’s open the doors first thing Monday the 12th,” you cheerfully declared.

   That gave you a week and a half to get everything, and yourself, ready. But honestly, you’d never felt more ready for anything.    The only reason you hadn’t suggested the coming Monday, just three days away, was because you needed time to put an ad in the paper and get the word out to the community, and the world. You’d always had an international client base, and there was no reason why you couldn’t keep that up.

   “Done!” Abby cheerfully agreed. “Everything’s ready, I’ve got a full-page ad ready and waiting, as well as flyers that we can give out, all that’s left is really just you and me, so there’s no reason to put it off.”

   “In that case,” Dean piped up from the back of the room, “I’ll spend the weekend baking cookies for the grand opening, and calling everyone I know to come and help you celebrate.”

   “Aw, dad… That’s so sweet, you’re gonna make me cry,” you chuckled, but your father just smiled in return.

   “Happy tears are just angel kisses,” he said, and your expression softened even more.

   You’d told Pero once that your mother had always said that whenever you’d been emotional about something positive.    She’d been a Buddhist and not actually believed in angels, but it had been her philosophy that an angel didn’t have to be a religious figure, but rather anything good that a person needed to put a name to. A beacon of hope, life and happiness.

   It was Friday that day, so that only left ten days for all of you to prepare for the new routines of returning to work, which would mean some adjustments for you, since Mae wasn’t even seven months yet.    Sitting down at one of the desks, you all started discussing how you’d go about this.

   “Since you’re still breastfeeding, Mae’s gonna have to be here for most of the workday, right?” Abby started.

   “Yeah, but I figure that since Pero is still unemployed, maybe you’ll wanna be here with us and help keep an eye on her while I work, and on the customers whenever she needs feeding?” you suggested, turning to your partner to see if he approved of your thinking.

   “I would love that, pintora,” he smiled back. “I have always loved watching you work.”

   “Great! And should you find a job in the middle of it all, we’ll work it out,” you chirped, seeming more positive in general than you had in a what felt like a long time.

   You and Pero had discussed the predicament of income a few days earlier, when Abbie had first announced that she was only days away from the big reveal.    You’d always been good at saving money and your previous work had earned you quite a good living, so you’d been able to support your little family ever since the studio had burned down, and you still had a significant amount left.

   But he wanted to help. He wanted to be able to at least support his daughter, not just right now, but in the future as well, so that she could go to whatever school she wanted and live the life she dreamed.    And to that end, he’d announced that he was going to start actively looking for work. He had plenty of skills, he just needed to find someone that might have a use for them.

   Dean had promised to keep helping you look after Will, so as long as you still made regular visits and kept working with him, his rehab shouldn’t be affected.    And after Pero’s progress with the first outing, it probably wouldn’t be that long until you’d feel confident enough to cut him loose.    In the weeks since, he’d taken Will on another four walks, one of which you’d accompanied them on, and you’d told your partner afterwards how amazed you were at his progress.

   He seemed so relieved somehow. As if he’d always known that the conditioning had been a negative force on his soul, and that being able to shed it had gradually made him see that he was actually a better person than he’d thought.    That the monster Lang had made him believe that he was, had never actually existed. That he was a free man (aside from the chain around his waist) and that he was permitted to feel good and have fun.

   It always made Pero feel bad now, whenever he watched him in that cell, tethered to a wall and confined to a six-by-eight-foot room, like a caged animal.    He was doing so well that the monster who had first been locked up in there, was no longer in him, as far as he could see, but there was a downside to that.    Because it made you want to set him free, despite the lingering risks.

   On that topic, it was your partner who was the rational one, cautioning and holding you back from taking the win before you’d even crossed the finish line. Because he still remembered.    Within his mind were the memories of everything that it had taken, every dime of the cost of getting William to this point, and he wasn’t prepared to jeopardise the progress which had been so gruesomely earned, on something as easily avoidable as moving too fast.

   After all… it wasn’t just the captive who had suffered.    And even more important was the fact that while Will still believed that he didn’t have much more than his own life left to lose, Pero stood to lose a brother, a friend, and the only connection he had left to the entire history of his life.    So, as much as he understood how your heart ached for the man, he still made sure to hold you back for now.

<><><><><> 

   The weekend passed in a rush, with you and Pero finally putting up new wallpaper in the nursery (you’d had to order it and the delivery service had misplaced it, hence the delay), walking around town to hand out flyers and put them up on every public billboard that you could think of, and finally taking a drive into the city to put some up there as well.    You also spent some time on updating your website and getting started on calling all of your clients, to once again apologize for the delay and deliver the unfortunate news that you wouldn’t be able to complete any commissions.

   Thankfully, no one was angry with you. Some were sad but understanding, others heartbroken, while most were just disappointed, but everyone was polite about it. Which in a way, was quite the testament to your professionalism and customer approach, given that no one seemed to feel mistreated, as far as you could tell.    It helped to ease your guilt about having to refer them to other artists.

   Then, on the following Monday, one week away from the grand re-opening, you and Pero packed yourselves, Mae and Groot into the car, heading out to the country house as usual, but for the last time as a continuous stay.    Starting next week, you were only going to be able to visit on weekends or holidays, and while it was nice to know that there would be solid routines in place, you were also quite certain that you’d miss being out there so much.

   And not just because you loved seeing grandpa Dean grow more and more into his new role, but just because of the quiet and inherent calm of the ranch. The grazing horses in the summer, the way the birdsongs were so much louder and clearer in the surrounding woods, the harmony that it brought to your soul to go for walks in the wilderness.    You loved your house, there was no doubt about that, but the country house had a magic to it that you just couldn’t find anywhere else.

   You were driving, and when you came to a stop on your usual spot by the front veranda, you couldn’t help but remember the first time you’d brought Pero there.    The way he and your father had so effortlessly become friends.    Looking back on it now, it seemed almost impossible that everything you’d gone through had never managed to break you all down, individually or as a family.    It was downright miraculous that you were all still here, and stronger than ever.

   “Thank you, Pero,” you said as you turned the engine off and pulled the key out of the ignition.

   “For what?” he questioned, understandably puzzled since he had no idea what you were thinking about.

   “For stalking me,” you started, seeing his eyes go from confused to understanding to loving. “For staying and fighting for us, for choosing me over your fears. All of it.”

   He smiled then, the kind of smile that still took your breath away with the sheer light and beauty that it radiated into the world, filling the entire cabin of the car with the enormity of his soul.

   “You are welcome, my love. And thank you for inviting me,” he said, making you almost teary-eyed as you watched him.

   As always, your father came out to meet you, breaking the magic of the moment when he opened the rear door to steal Mae for a few welcoming kisses. Not that either of you were upset with him for it.

   “I missed you all,” he boomed happily and used his free arm to tug Pero in for a hug as he stepped out of the car.

   “We missed you too, abuelo,” your partner grinned at him, then stepped back to let him hug you too.

   “Hello, how are my favourite Bees today?” he hummed as he embraced you.

   “Mama-Bee is doing good, but Babybee had a restless night, so she’s a little tired.”

   “Oh, well in that case, we’re gonna be doing a little sleepy-dance and see if we can’t get her to nap properly today, while mom and dad are out.”

   That caught your attention, and Pero’s as well, because you usually didn’t go to see William first thing after arriving, and you typically didn’t both go either, which was what Dean seemed to be suggesting.

   “Did something happen this weekend?” your partner asked, sounding concerned now, because he probably thought that the older man would’ve called to let him know if something had gone wrong.

   “No, not this weekend, this morning. And since you were coming here anyway, I didn’t see the need to worry you beforehand,” your father explained, and suddenly you were concerned as well.

   He turned and started heading inside as he began to elaborate, so you both grabbed your bags and followed him, almost forgetting to let Groot out of the trunk in your sudden rush.

   “When I went to give him his breakfast this morning, he was back to sitting in the corner, like he used to before he started improving, so I stepped in to check on him.    I asked if he was feeling okay and he said that everything was fine, but there was a look in his eyes like he was just trying to appease me, you know? Genuine, but not entirely true, and hiding the most important part.    I wouldn’t have thought that much of it, people have bad days and sometimes it’s just not the right time to talk about it, but…”

   He paused then, and there was something in his tone for that last part which made you feel like a precipice was getting ready to open up underneath you.    You’d gotten to the kitchen by then and put your things down, so you stepped closer to him and crossed your arms protectively over your waist, preparing for bad news. And you felt Pero tense beside you, reacting as much to your reaction as he was to what Dean was telling you.

   He sighed and scratched the back of his neck for a moment, before meeting your eyes.

   “I’ve seen people prepare to die far too many times to not recognize it. I don’t know what might’ve triggered it, but I think he’s giving up.”

   You and Pero looked at each other then, and you knew that he was thinking the exact same thing that you were, which was that you needed to go.    Without a word, you both turned back towards the door and started the familiar hike through the woods, not a single word spoken between you as you quickly made your way to the bunker. But dread was somehow filling the air between you.    It wasn’t that you didn’t have anything to say, it was that every thought in your heads was a bad one, and sharing those wouldn’t help anything.

   Getting there, you were suddenly convinced that you were going to walk down there and find the man dead. Just like he’d supposedly died in the cemetery, without a mark on him, no longer alive simply because that was what he’d wanted.    Desperate to have your fear dispelled, you all but ran down the stairs and straight to the viewing glass on his cell.

   Pero was right on your heels, and you felt him exhale sharply with relief as his brother came into view, alive, but looking exactly as Dean had described him.

   “Thank god…” you sighed as the stress in your system ebbed out. “Do you have any idea what might’ve brought this on?” you then asked your partner, who was still tense, observing the man before him with a troubled set in his brows.

   “Maybe,” was all he said, and his silence dragged on for long enough that you began to wonder if he intended to elaborate at all.

   Or, if perhaps this was one of those things that he couldn’t quite explain.

   “Is it something I can understand?” you asked, and after another long pause, he finally answered.

   “If his head is where I think it is… then, no. Probably not.”

   “Then I’ll stay out here,” you replied, smiling gently at him as he met your eyes, to let him know that you weren’t offended.

   He nodded in return and then turned to the door, unlocking it and stepping inside.    You stayed out there and watched, not so much because you thought you might learn something new, but mostly just so that Pero would know that you were there and would support him no matter where this went.    Will looked up when he entered, but neither man said anything at first. Not until your partner had taken a seat on the floor in front of Will, who was huddled into the corner.

<><><><><> 

   “It is the dream, right?” Pero started, and immediately, the other man turned sad.

   He didn’t answer, but he nodded as his eyes filled with tears, and the younger man had no trouble understanding why.    When they were still boys, Will had been plagued by a recurring nightmare for almost an entire year, and even long after it had finally stopped, Pero had sometimes found him hiding away in a closet, crying his eyes out because something had reminded him of it.

   He had never been able to convince his brother to tell him what the dream was about, but with time, he had also learned that it didn’t really matter. Because anything that had scarred the man enough to still affect him a decade later, when they were in their twenties and at the top of their game, had to be just about the worst things imaginable.

   “What can I do?” Pero asked in a whisper, because when these episodes had happened in the past, Will had sometimes become extremely sensitive to sounds.

   “I… I-I don’t think-…” he tried, but his voice wouldn’t carry the words at first, and he had to stop and just breathe for a bit. “I don’t think… that I was supposed to survive…”

   “What do you mean? We’ve had dozens of brushes with death, if you were not supposed to live, then why did you walk away from all of them?” the Spaniard questioned, but his brother just shook his head.

   “No… I mean before.”

   “Before what?”

   “All of it…” Will whispered, and there was a tremor in his voice that was more than just fear. “The dream… I never understood it, it was just heart-stoppingly frightening. But now I think… I think it means that I was never supposed to survive the fire.”

   The blaze which had killed his parents had happened when he was just five years old, how could he think that something like that could’ve been part of some grand plan? That such a small child shouldn’t have been allowed to survive.

   “Come on, hermano. You have never believed that the universe works that way.”

   “Not before I met her,” he said, and his voice broke at the mere mention of Lin Mae. “But ever since then…… If I’d never met her, none of this would’ve happened.”

   “Maybe not. But then I never would’ve met you either, and without you, I could never have become this person that Bee loves,” Pero reminded him. “It is never as simple as changing one thing. Life is complicated and hard, full of choices, good and bad, and your choices have affected a great many things and hundreds of people over the years.    You don’t get to decide that suddenly none of that matters anymore. No one does.”

   Will seemed a little stumped at first, hearing that, but he was in a low and dark place and his mind wasn’t going to come out of it that easily.

   “Do you really think… that my time on this Earth makes any difference in the end? In the grand scheme of things, we’re all just mayflies,” he grumbled, but that perspective had quite a profound flipside, which he was ignoring.

   “If you truly believe this, then you must also accept the reality that you have not done any harm to this world either. Is that not also true, hm?” Pero challenged, forcing the man before him to confront his own thinking.

   And it worked.    He gave up the subject, meekly throwing his arms out to the sides in hopelessness.

   “Then tell me what to do?” he all but cried, and the Spaniard could hear all the unspoken parts of that question.

   The man had no purpose, no reason for living beyond an old friend that he owed too much to ever repay. He carried too much shame and regret to have any hope of being able to shed it all in just one lifetime, and even if he did somehow find a way to live an honest and at least somewhat fulfilling life, it was possible that he would never be truly happy again.    That harmony was something he would never get to experience anymore.

   “Love,” your soft voice came from the doorway, where you’d just appeared, and as always, your presence affected William in a positive way. “Dare to love your brother, and me, and this family, because that’s what your family would want you to do.”

   He didn’t answer you, and you didn’t push. You stayed right there on the threshold, with a body that radiated peace and affection into the room. And whether he allowed himself to feel it or not, your energy got to him.    Just like your shine had captured Pero in your orbit, your gravity now made an impression on his brother that he couldn’t hide from, dragging him closer no matter how much his brain tried to tell him that he was unworthy.

   “Unlock him,” you suddenly said, still just as softly, meeting your partner’s eyes as he shifted nervously, unsure of what your intentions were. “He’s coming to the house with us for lunch,” you elaborated, and even though your tone was still warm and caring, it was also unshakeable.

   Even though he wanted to object and insist on discussing this with you first, he knew that there would be no point in even suggesting that.    Just like that first time, when you’d walked into the cell with that Amazonian confidence, you had apparently decided that this was happening, and nothing was going to stop it.    He admired that side of you perhaps most of all, but he also could not fathom where it came from or how it worked.

   So, without arguing, he reached forwards and unlocked the six-digit coded padlock that kept the chain fastened tightly around Will’s waist, sending the whole thing rumbling to the floor.

   “Okay. Let’s go,” you calmly ordered while stepping into the room and holding a hand out towards the man.

   For a good five seconds, he merely stared at it, and then lifted his head to meet your gaze. Maybe he too simply realized that there was no option to be explored when you were in this kind of mood, or maybe he just found it comforting to follow orders and not have to think for himself for a while.    But whatever the reason, he took your hand and allowed you to pull him to his feet and then out of the room.

   And somehow, even though there was nothing stopping him, Pero knew that William wasn’t going to try and run as you left the bunker.    He stayed behind his brother while you took the lead and brought them outside, not even pausing once you’d stepped out, heading for the house with determined strides, knowing that the men would follow because where the fuck else were they gonna go.

   Cold and inhospitable woods, or a warm house with a loving family, ready and willing to take in even the most badly wounded strays?    Yeah. No contest.

===============

Link to Part 29

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @heimtathurs @pedrostories

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Should I take this as a hint you think I should've let Bee keep on trying to draw?

Part 27 - The Price We Pay

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Pero decides to take a big risk in his hopes of helping Will. Meanwhile, an old injury is finally coming back to haunt you.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 4861 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 28

<><><><><><><><><><>

   The days were getting shorter and cooler with the oncoming autumn, and as always, you welcomed the freshness of it. The heavy, heated summer atmosphere being blown away by the crisp, clear, and much lighter fall.    The trees were still mostly green, and the midday warmth was still there, it was just less pressing. It felt like there was somehow more oxygen in the air.

   You and Pero had come up with a routine for taking care of and preparing your own home, while still being present at the country house to work with William and let your dad be around Mae as much as possible.    Mondays through Thursdays you’d stay at his place and then every weekend, you went home and worked on the nursery and the house overall.    But it wasn’t just about the house.

   You realized quite quickly that both you and Pero were itching to nest and bond together as a family, and while there was technically nothing preventing you from doing that somewhere else, it was so much easier to do it in your own space.    It sort of happened naturally, starting from the moment you walked in through the front door, and could suddenly focus entirely on the three of you, because there just wasn’t anything else there to distract you.

   And it did help tremendously that you seemed to have been fortunate enough to have a very easygoing baby.    She rarely ever cried, and if she did, it was usually just because of a little tummy-ache, which would mostly go away with just a few minutes of exercises.    Even when she was hungry, she wouldn’t cry but instead make this little growling noise, and if no one reacted fast enough, she’d simply repeat it louder.

   There were bad nights on occasion, when she just wouldn’t sleep and, on those nights, she would cry, as well as babble a lot.    But you were also fortunate enough to be with a man who was used to being sleep deprived for days or even weeks at a time, and who would spend those nights in the nursery or living room with her, so that you’d get to sleep in between feedings.

   If he was tired at any point during those first few months, he never once showed it, and never complained about any of it. To him, it wasn’t even a question of who’s job it was to do things. You were partners and that meant sharing the load.    That said, he was quick to take on way too much if you didn’t halt him. Eager as he was about all things fatherly, he tried to do everything, and magic ninja skills or not, not even Pero Tovar could do everything.

   After that day with Will, and his giant leap of progress, he continued to improve with every week that passed.    It wasn’t long before he and Pero were having short conversations, whether you were there or not, and every time you brought Mae, his entire demeanour changed, becoming quiet in a softer way. Perhaps nostalgic.

   Every time that he spoke to you, it was with newfound respect, albeit still with a great deal of caution. He wasn’t going to shed the conditioning from one day to the next, and there were still times when the mission got the better of him, making him glare at you or your partner with the same harsh coldness that made ice trickle down your spine.    There was no question that it was a process and that it would take time before you’d be able to trust him not to hurt either of you. But the steady progress gave you hope.

<><><><><> 

   “Miss Mae-Mae…” Pero cooed warmly, beckoning for her attention.

   She’d been in a giggly sort of mood for the past twenty minutes and he’d been playing with her the whole time. Peek-a-boo was a favourite, and she had a particular spot on her neck where the tickle of his moustache would set her off into a fit of laughter.    But she was getting tired now, loosing focus on him, which made her eyes drift and jump from one thing to the next.

   “Hey, sleepy bebita. Don’t go working yourself into overdrive, it is time to rest now.”

   He knew that if she kept trying to stay awake, she’d end up cranky and too tired to be able to rest well, so he made sure that she focused on him and then he started singing her lullaby.    At six months old, she knew the melody and the sound of his voice better than she knew her own little sounds and noises, and it never failed to soothe her.

   You’d been correct in assuming that she’d end up being daddy’s girl, and he was quite smug about that. But he also loved that you let him have that.    You never said it with any sarcasm or even a hint of jealousy. In fact, it seemed like you thought the opposite. Most of the time, you’d say it with a smile and a wink, as if you were trying to tell him that you couldn’t be happier for him.

   After all, it wasn’t like she didn’t care for you too. The two of you had your own relationship already, naturally made intimate by the fact that you fed her from your body, so in truth, she was equally fond of both of you.    But he got the feeling that you’d been a bit worried that his fears might hold him back, or that his bad personal experiences with family would somehow make him shy away from the emotional connection.

   If so, he completely understood why you might’ve feared that, as it very well could’ve happened. And the only reason that it hadn’t, was because you were the person that you were and had the family that you did.    It was you that had given him the confidence and the belief in himself, which now allowed him to take on this massive responsibility with nothing but pride and anticipation.    Also, having your father there to help guide him, just made everything feel so safe.

   And that was the key. He felt safe in this family.

   Safe to make mistakes, to get it wrong and know that he’d be allowed to learn without having to fear any consequences.    That was the true gift of having met you, and he was never going to forget it.    Especially since that had also become a vital part of his interactions with William.

   The safety that he now felt within himself had made it possible for him to walk into that cell four days of the week, with a quiet but powerful confidence.    So powerful even, that Will could feel it from him, and knew that he wouldn’t be intimidated, wouldn’t allow his old friend to get under his skin, no matter how badly the man might try and hurt his feelings.

   And over time, Will had gotten infected by this secure feeling that emanated from him, finally realizing that he had nothing to fear from either of you anymore. That he didn’t need to defend himself or try to justify himself to you.    Six months, and he was finally carrying on normal conversations. Or, at least, as close to it as Pero had ever dared to hope that he might manage.

   He was doing so well now that Pero had started thinking about letting him out of the bunker for a while each day.    He just needed to talk to you about it first, and this particular day felt right for that.    So, once he’d gotten Mae to sleep and put her down in her crib, with Groot immediately laying down beside the little bed to watch over her, he went to find you.

   It was a Saturday, so you were at your house, and while Pero had played with your daughter, you’d apparently been outside, shovelling snow.

   “I thought you went to the store?” he questioned when you walked in just after he’d looked for you in the kitchen.

   Enough time had passed that you should’ve completed a roundtrip to the local grocer’s by then, but the kitchen was empty.

   “I was going to, but the snow had drifted up against the door, so I figured I’d take care of it,” you answered with a relaxed shrug. “I’m just gonna get changed out of these wet clothes and then I’ll go.”

   “Ay, pintora… If you had told me, I would’ve taken care of it while you did the shopping.”

   “I know that, honey. But sometimes I like to do those things too,” you smiled, and he couldn’t argue with that.

   After all, you’d lived here alone for about a decade before meeting him, so you were used to having to take care of everything around the house by yourself all year round.

   “Okay. Well, before you go, I’d like to talk to you about Will,” he started, and your curiosity spiked.

   “Did something happen?” you guessed, but he shook his head.

   “No, nothing specific. I want to talk about taking another step in his recovery.    I think it is time that we let him come outside.”

   You paused your efforts to wiggle out of your wet and cold jeans, leaving them almost standing on their own halfway down your thighs, just from the amount of snow that they’d absorbed.

   “Are you sure he’s ready for that?”

   “I think so. He has been very calm every time anyone has visited him for over two months now, and he actively participates in conversations, even when those conversations are tough.    He lets me touch him and sit next to him without complaint or even subconscious ticks anymore, and every time he sees you or Mae, he lights up.    I’m not saying that it’s without risk, and we would take precautions, of course. But I think that we have reached a point where he might stop improving if we don’t keep pushing him,” he explained, and you listened closely but remained careful not to let yourself hope too much.

   For all the progress, there had been plenty of setbacks along the way, some so terrible that you’d both questioned whether he really could be completely deprogrammed.    So, while you’d both refused to give up, you never stopped reminding each other that this could very well end in disaster, still. There were no guarantees.

   “If you think it’s time, then I trust you. But just so we’re on the same page here, we’re not talking about setting him loose, right? We’d still keep him chained for a while?”

   “It would be far too dangerous to simply cut him free,” Pero confirmed. “But taking him outside and seeing how he reacts might give us a better understanding of just how far his recovery has come.    You do not need to be there with me the first time, if you feel unsure. It will be important for us to be calm and give him a sense of security throughout the experience, since it will likely trigger something.”

   “That might be best, yeah…” you admitted, although the thought seemed to make you sad.

   “It’s okay, mi amor. You feel this way because you care, because you want him to be well enough that none of us will ever have to fear him again, and this is a very good thing.    The sadness you feel is your love for him, and there is nothing bad about that. You will not let him down by not being there.”

   “No, I know. But it feels like I’m letting myself down. I mean… I’m the one that pushed and persisted and insisted, even when no one else had any hope.”

   “Yes, and because of that, we have been able to get this far.    Do not trivialize the work that you have done for him, the faith and the confidence you’ve had for him, all this time. We never would’ve gotten here without your stubbornness, pintora,” he reminded you, putting his arms around your waist and pulling your still freezing cold frame into his.

   He couldn’t help but admire how readily you shouldered the responsibility of Will’s recovery. How quick you’d been from the very beginning, to protect and care for him, even when everyone else had seen only the danger.    By rights, this burden should never have been yours at all, but you’d taken it on all the same. And not because of any moral stance or need for control.

   You’d done this simply because you didn’t want to lose any more family, nor have to watch your partner suffer that loss either.

   “He is my brother, and my oldest friend. Trust that I will guide him the final stretch, back home, and let yourself off the hook.    For once. Please,” he gently insisted, and felt you sigh against him.

   “I think that being a mom is making me territorial, or something. Like I have to shield my pack from every conceivable danger,” you pondered, and he chuckled.

   “Ay, Honeybee, you have always been like that.”

<><><><><> 

   It was difficult to step back from something that you’d been working towards for such a long time, but you knew that Pero was right.    His relationship with Will ran so much deeper than yours, and it was the two of them that needed to reconcile for this to ever truly be resolved, which you were a bit too quick to forget sometimes.

   Perhaps because you’d been the only one that had still fought for him, for what had seemed like a long time. But it was now time to let that go and allow the two men to sort out their relationship between themselves.    So, when you returned to your father’s house that following Monday morning, Pero greeted Dean, kissed Mae’s forehead and then yours, before leaving the house for an unspecified amount of time.

   And it made you nervous.    Not that he was alone with a man that might still want to kill him, but that you wouldn’t know how this part played out until your partner returned.    You’d been there for every tiniest step along the way, and now that Will was finally getting to the big leaps, you suddenly didn’t know what was happening.

   “Don’t worry, sweetheart,” your father soothed, seeing your uncertainty. “Things will play out the way they do, and we’ll be there for them both no matter what comes of it.”

   You’d always loved Dean’s ability to be in the present and take things as they came, while simultaneously always being ten steps ahead and planning for every possible outcome, seemingly without effort. But it was somehow even more visible these days.    He was playing with Mae, smiling and laughing at her adorable little reactions to his trickeries, while doing inventory of his pantry and fridge to decide on what to make for lunch and dinner, and setting your mind at ease at the same time.

   “Gosh, dad, could you be a little less awesome every once in a while. It’s exhausting just looking at you,” you mockingly griped, and he just laughed.

   “That’s what years and years of always being two steps behind you and trying to catch up have taught me. You didn’t really think that I was gonna stop now that it’s finally become easy to do, did you?” he smiled with his eyebrows raised in challenge.

   “And here I thought that I was such a sweet kid,” you bit back sarcastically, but he could hear the playfulness in your tone.

   “No kid is ever just one thing all the time,” he replied, and then cocked his head at Mae and chuckled. “Except maybe you, Babybee. You’re just about the most harmonious child I’ve ever seen.”

   “Yeah, I’ve noticed that,” you smiled at them both, “and I’m really grateful for it, because if she’d been a cranky baby, or a colic-baby, on top of everything else we’ve had to deal with… I mean, we would’ve managed it because we wouldn’t have had any other choice, but it would’ve been terrible.”

   “Maybe the universe finally decided to give you a break.”

   “If so, I hope it lasts.”

   Mae made her little hungry noise then, so your father kissed her cheek and then handed her back to you.

   “Go upstairs and try and get some rest, Bee. I’ll let Pero know where you are when he comes back.”

   “Thanks, but I’m never gonna be able to sleep knowing what he’s about to do,” you sighed as you turned away towards the stairs, but Dean’s hand landed on your shoulder and halted you before you’d begun to walk away.

   “Hey. You don’t need to sleep to rest your mind. That drawer where all your sketching stuff used to be is still there,” he gently reminded you, making an uncomfortable knot form in your stomach, and he could see it. “Just pick up a pencil and draw a few lines.    It doesn’t have to be complicated, make a stick figure or just a basic outline of a coast and a beach. Anything at all, just start somewhere. Get back to the feel of the pen in your hand.”

   You wanted to say that you’d happily do that. You wanted it to be that simple. But just the thought was torturous.    There were so many times over the past year when you’d picked up a pen because you’d had to sign for something or write an address on an envelope, and each time had nearly given you an anxiety attack.

   Because nothing felt the same. You couldn’t recognize the feeling of the instrument in your hand at all. It didn’t move or respond right, and even your signature, which was possibly the most familiar text for you to write, came out wonky and distorted.    Which was why you hadn’t dared to even try and draw anything yet, not even the most simplistic image, because if it turned out that you couldn’t do it, that would finally crush your hopes.

   But your father’s eyes were glowing. He truly believed that all you needed to do was just start, and then muscle memory would eventually bring you back to your former skill-level.    So, even though it felt like a lie, you gave him a hesitant smile and a nod, before once again setting off towards the stairs, suddenly fighting tears.

<><><><><> 

   “What’s going on?” Will asked as Pero unlocked the chain from the wall and secured it to his own waist instead.

   “We are going to take a walk,” he explained, and the man suddenly looked very nervous.

   He hadn’t set foot outside in almost a year.

   “You will need these,” Pero said as he led his captive out of the room into the observation area, where thermal clothes and boots were waiting. “It’s not arctic-level cold, but it is biting.”

   His brother seemed to be in a bit of a daze while he pulled the clothes on, as if he couldn’t quite believe that this was happening.    But soon enough, they were both dressed and heading up the stairs to the concealed hatch, with William in front so that Pero could see if he attempted anything sinister.    And when he pushed the hatch open and the freezing cold air hit his lungs, he had to stop and cough for a bit before he could step out.

   Once outside, they both stood still for a while, and the Spaniard could see how his brother became more and more affected by just the feeling of being in daylight, crispy winter air, with snow crunching under his boots.    Each breath was heavier than the one before, each one creating a small cloud in front of his face, and after just a minute or so, he was crying.

   “I am sorry, hermano,” Pero offered, feeling his own throat begin to stock up. “That it took so long to get here. I should have helped you… I should have listened to my pintora.    I should never have tortured you.”

   “No…” Will countered, snivelling and clearing his throat before he continued. “You had to do that. She never would’ve gotten to me if you hadn’t broken me down physically first.    And even if it could’ve worked anyway… I’m glad for the penance. I deserved it.”

   It took Pero a while to speak again after that, because the shame of his actions back then was still very much alive in his mind and heart.    Once he did eventually find the words, though, he spoke with clarity and certainty.

   “You did not deserve anything that has happened to you, William. Not one second of it.”

   His voice was so strong and determined that his brother turned his head to meet his eyes when he continued, as if it was the most unbelievable thing he’d ever heard.

   “You were the good one. The one that kept the rest of us in check, the one that reminded all of us to care, whether we heard you or not.    And even when I treated you like shit, even when I abandoned you and turned my back on you, you still cared. You still wanted me to meet your family and be a part of your life.    I wish so badly that I had heard you… that I had come to meet them, gotten to see you as a father and a husband, because I know you were good at that too. I know in my heart that you thrived for those few years, and it pains me beyond words that you didn’t get to keep going.    Especially now, when I know that feeling myself.”

   He was struggling by the last sentence, unable to keep the pain at bay, so he had to stop. And for a long moment, the two men just stood there, four feet apart, fighting their separate demons with all their might.    Then, at some point, the moment ended, and Pero just started walking.    And as though the movement unlocked something in them both, after a while, they started talking. Not about anything special, just a normal causal conversation.

   The snow was deep enough in some places that it quickly drained Will’s energy, unaccustomed as he was to physical exercise, so they had to stop and rest every now and then.    But he seemed determined to make the most out of this little trip, so when he kept insisting that they carry on, Pero didn’t argue.

   Which was why he then had to carry the poor exhausted man down the stairs and back into his cell, over an hour later.    He helped him get out of the thermals and lay down on the mattress, but when he was just about to leave, Will reached his hand towards him, weakly grasping at his forearm.

   “Hey… thank you for today. It felt almost like… old times,” he said with a careful smile, and Pero didn’t doubt for a second that it was genuine.

   “Good,” he answered, just as genuinely. “You deserve that.”

   His brother’s smile turned sad then, and he knew that it was because he disagreed. But he also knew that somehow, he would help him understand that it was true, even if it took another ten years.    He was never going to give up.

-=¤=-

   He came back to the house just as Dean was getting ready to serve lunch.

   “How’d it go?”

   “About as well as it could have,” he replied. “I’ll tell you all about it over lunch so that Bee can hear it too.    Is she upstairs?”

   “Yeah. I think she was really worried.”

   He nodded at your father and then went to find you.    But when he got upstairs, he noticed that Groot was sitting on the threshold of your room, with his head held low and his tail tucked closely to his side.    He’d have to be seriously anxious about you to leave Mae’s crib at all, which made Pero hurry to the door.

   The sight that met him when he stopped on the threshold next to the canine, made him freeze for a moment.    You were sitting on the floor with your back leaned against a closet door and your legs pulled up so that your knees were up to your chin. Your arms were resting on top of your knees, wrapped around your head as you cried into your sleeves.

   That alone would’ve been enough to make his heart pinch, but what made it worse was the sight of the entire floor being littered with sheets of paper, all of which had attempts of drawings on them.    Failed attempts, by your definition.    At least three dozen of them.

   The one closest to you was filled with nothing but thick black lines, so deep that the paper had broken in some places.    Drawn not in rage, but in despair. In the conviction that your passion, your life’s work and a very large part of your identity was truly lost and beyond repair.    Groot had probably tried to comfort you, only to be chased away. But too caring to leave you like that, he’d found a middle ground and remained by your side, even though there was nothing he could do.

   Pero softly petted him on the head and over his ears, to let him know that he’d done good, finally allowing him to relax a little, then he stepped past the dog into the room and knelt in front of you.    There was nothing he could say that was going to ease your pain in that moment, so he didn’t try. Instead, he just let you know that he was there, letting his head rest against the top of yours while he wrapped his arms around you.

   When fifteen minutes had passed, Dean came to look for you, but as soon as he saw the scene on the floor, his shoulders dropped, and a deep sadness settled into his frame.    Without a word, he stepped over to the crib and picked up the still sleeping Mae, taking her downstairs with him so that you wouldn’t feel compelled to bottle this shit back up if she started crying and maternal instinct took over.

   This had been building inside of you ever since Pete, and if you didn’t vent it now, you never would.    So, you sat there together as lunch passed, and another hour after that, and while your pain did seem to lessen over time, it was like the hold that it had over you only increased. Like you were being swallowed by some giant beast.

   And finally, Pero couldn’t take it anymore.

   He stood up and lifted you onto the bed where he started pulling your clothes off, encountering no resistance, leaving warm kisses on your skin everywhere that he exposed it.    You were so lost in this crushing sense of hopelessness that even when his lips finally reached yours, you barely even responded.    But he knew that you would, eventually. You loved him too much not to.

   It took a while, but once he was buried inside you, gently and slowly dragging his cock against your softness exactly as he knew you liked it, you couldn’t keep him out of your heart anymore. Your body wouldn’t let you.    It woke you up and brought you back to the moment, forcing you to let go of all that darkness, because this was one thing that it couldn’t touch.

   This was pure love, and while it might not yet be enough to chase the beast away, it was certainly enough to hold it off.    One kiss, one caress, one thrust at a time, until you were clinging to him, begging for more, for him to make you feel something good and wonderful, and lavishing him with praise when he did.

   He wished that there was some way that he could tell you that you were still perfect. Some way that his body could convey that there was nothing wrong with you, and that everything would be alright, whether you could draw or not.    But he also knew that it wasn’t that simple. That your pain came from places far deeper than just the skill of your hand. That it had to do with trying to accept that your life would never be what you’d always dreamed.

   Because he knew that being an artist was the only real dream that you’d ever had.    As much as you loved Pero and Mae, family had never been something you’d actively sought, that was just a wonderful result of the choices you’d made along the way. And even within that relationship, the artist had been your identity, not just in how you saw yourself, but in how he saw you as well.

   He had called you pintora from the start. And now that wasn’t how you looked at yourself anymore.    So, now you had to completely redefine yourself in every aspect of your being, and he had no idea how to help you do that.    Except to just keep loving you, keep showing you how wanted and beautiful you were and would always be to him, and hope that it would be enough.

===============

Link to Part 28

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Also accurate.

Part 26 - Arrival

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Baby Tovar is coming, and she's bringing more than just new beginnings with her.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 5633 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 27

<><><><><><><><><><>

   It was so much calmer than you’d expected, somehow.    The staff were understandably cool-headed, this was their everyday life, and they were completely sure about what to do and how to proceed, throughout the process, unlike you.    But the entire ward was so quiet. The hallways were empty except for the odd nurse passing by with a warm smile in their eyes, or a nervous newbie parent going for a walk to shed some excess energy.

   You and your family were brought to a large but cosy room at the far end of the ward, where the nurse accompanying you gave you a full tour, explaining what every piece of equipment in there was for, how to manage the controls on the bed, the two places where the call-button could be found, and it all felt so comforting.    She asked you to get changed into a hospital gown and reminded you that there was a private bathroom in the corner of the room.

   She returned some ten minutes later, finding you sitting on the edge of the bed with Pero beside you and Dean and Abby in a couple of chairs to the side, and she immediately turned her focus on your partner.

   “Would you like to stay for the examination, Mr. Tovar?” she politely asked, and when he didn’t reply, she stepped closer to him and spoke even softer. “It makes no difference to the midwife that’ll be performing the exam, this is all about you and your family, so however you feel most comfortable is how we’ll proceed.”

   Pero was noticeably nervous, and you guessed that it was because he desperately didn’t want to leave you alone with strangers, even for a second, but that he was also worried about getting in the way or annoying you.

   “I’d like you to stay with me, love,” you said, giving him a pass on having to figure out his own confusion right then, and he was visibly relieved to hear it.

   “Good,” the kind nurse smiled at the two of you, and then turned towards the other two. “And the rest of the family?”

   “I think we’ll be stepping out,” Dean answered, before getting up and coming to place a loving kiss on your forehead, before heading for the door.

   Abby just winked at you, and then all three of them left, with the nurse saying that the midwife would be joining you shortly, as she let the door fall shut behind her.    The moment they were gone, Pero’s leg started bouncing against the floor, and less then ten seconds later, he was on his feet and pacing about the room.

   “Remember to breathe, honey,” you said with a smile, and at first he just chuckled, but then he abruptly stopped.

   “Oh… we never did that! We never went to the classes, for the birthing, with the breathing exercises and everything!” he recalled, riling himself up even more with each word.

   “It’s alright, Pero. Women have been doing this for thousands of years before anyone knew about any special breathing, I’ll be fine.”

   “How are you not freaking out, pintora? I feel like I might fly through the ceiling if I happen to stomp a little too hard…” he nervously rattled off, so you got up and went to take his hands.

   “I’ll worry when there’s something to worry about, but I still don’t feel anything concerning. Let’s just hear what the doctor says before we start contemplating reinventing air-travel, okay?” you smiled at him, and he had to huff a little disbelievingly at himself.

   He pulled you into a hug and it seemed to ease some of his nerves, just to feel your skin against his.    But a moment later, the door opened and the midwife stepped in, making him pull away from you completely, just as he’d done back in the beginning whenever other people were around.

   She politely introduced herself as Lily, rather than giving her title and last name, which you found reassuring, and then she asked you to lay down on the bed and pull your legs up and spread them so that she could do a visual inspection.    It felt odd to do that with a person who you’d literally just met, but you had to trust this woman to take care of you, so you did what she asked.

   “If you need to adjust yourself to get more comfortable, then feel free to do that, I don’t want you to be in any discomfort if we can avoid it,” she told you before even touching your gown.

   “Thank you, but I’m good like this,” you assured her.

   “Okay, then I’m gonna lift your gown and take a look, and if I can’t see any dilation or other obvious signs that you’re in labour, I might have to touch you. Is that alright?”

   “Yeah,” you agreed, but for the first time since your father had suggested that it might be time to go, you did start to feel anxious.

   Not that a stranger might be about to touch your privates, but that this might actually be labour, which was gonna be painful and scary and a completely unknown experience to you.    Pero was frozen, standing three feet away to your right, but you needed him to calm you and keep you from tensing up, so you reached a hand towards him.    He unfroze immediately and didn’t just take your hand, but turned fully to face you, leaned over you and then rested his forehead against yours, somehow knowing that you needed it.

   “Are you sure that you haven’t felt anything different today, Bee?” Lily asked after pushing back your gown, bringing your focus back to her.

   “Nothing at all,” you answered honestly. “Why?”

   “Because you’re about halfway dilated already, and most first-timers can feel that happening and find it quite unsettling,” she replied, but all you heard was the first part.

   “I’m-… Wait, it’s happening? She’s coming?” you gasped, and Lily nodded with a bright smile.

   “I’d say probably within the next six hours, though the timing is always the hardest to predict.”

<><><><><> 

   Pero was terrified.    This was the most significant thing that had ever happened to him, even more significant than meeting you, even though none of this would’ve happened at all if he hadn’t.    He supposed that it was because a baby was helpless and completely dependent upon the parents to survive, which was a responsibility that he had never encountered before.

   He’d protected and cared for you, of course, but that still wasn’t anywhere near the same. You could fend for, feed, and dress yourself at least. You weren’t helpless.    But this little thing… this tiny, fragile, beautiful thing, could die if he got even the smallest thing wrong.    How could anyone not find that terrifying?

   Still, he tried his best not to show it, because you needed him too. And you were just as frightened as he was, if not more. Because this was happening to you, physically, and it was so much more than just the pain.    You were experiencing things that no one could’ve explained to you beforehand, because each woman lived through the birthing process from their own perspective, and it didn’t matter that you theoretically knew what was happening to you.    Feeling it was something else entirely, even Pero knew that just from looking at you.

   You couldn’t speak whenever the pain overwhelmed you, and even between the contractions you were so focused on what you needed to do and remembering to breathe, that you didn’t speak then either.    But he did. He kept up a steady stream of what he hoped were soothing words, reminding you of tranquil moments from your shared past, like sitting in the studio together when he watched you draw, or waking up to the snow falling on Christmas Day.

   He assumed that you’d let him know if you needed him to shut up, so he kept going since there was little else that he could do for you.    And when the pain seemed to threaten to break you down, in pure desperation, he started singing the lullaby that he always sang to the baby, hoping that it would somehow help, despite how inadequate it felt.

   You’d decided that you didn’t want an epidural, because you’d read too many stories of women being left with permanent nerve damage or paralysis from it, so there was no relief to be had until it was over.    He kept telling you how strong you were and how impressed he was, and he meant it every time, because he could never have endured what he was seeing in you over those three hours.

   He had always had a deep respect for women, but seeing you literally fight with every muscle you had, every molecule of oxygen in your lungs, and every beat of your racing heart, filled him with a reverence which was so clear and comprehensible right then, but which would later completely escape his grasp.    It seemed to go on forever, and yet, everything happened too fast.

   There was a moment of total silence, and then the cries filled the room, and Pero’s entire world shifted.

   Even though he’d known that it would change everything, even though he’d tried to mentally prepare for how monumental it would feel, that moment completely overwhelmed him.    Suddenly, everything was different because he was different. Because now… he was a father for real.

   She was placed on your chest within moments of her arrival, and as if she knew exactly that this was where she belonged, she immediately stopped crying.    Pero, on the other hand, couldn’t have stopped the tears of joy that fell down his smiling cheeks, no matter what had happened.    An elephant could’ve walked through the room, and he wouldn’t have noticed.

   He leaned over you, kissed your head and then the baby’s, and she was so warm and soft.    Later, he would remember that he actually tried to speak to you in that moment, but that all that came out was a cheerful nonsense of vowels and consonants, nowhere near recognizable as any words.    But it made you smile at him, and that was a smile that he would forever remember.

-=¤=-

   While you recovered, he proudly tended to his little girl, happily changing the tiny diapers and burping her after you’d fed her, so that you could rest as much as possible.    And while Dean certainly itched to pitch in and take on grandfather duties right away, he kindly refrained, allowing his son to learn and grow into all the new skills and techniques that he would have to master quickly over the coming days.

   The nurses expressed some concern over the fact that you seemed to be even more tired than what they would expect from labour, but for once, Pero wasn’t worried.    You still hadn’t gotten much of a chance to absorb or recover from most of the past year, and all the shit that you’d suffered through, so to him it made perfect sense that now when your body was utterly spent, your mind was finally allowing itself some much needed respite.

   He took comfort in the fact that you were so relaxed and trusting in his abilities to manage those first few days, that you felt safe to just sleep and eat and feed your baby without any concerns or worries.    Plus, you knew that your father would be there, ready and willing to answer any questions, or assist if need be.

   Your fatigue still made your doctor want to keep you for observation a couple of days extra, just to be sure that there were no delayed complications, and while you were eager to get home to a comfier bed, you didn’t argue.    There was no rush, after all. Dean travelled back and forth between the hospital and his house, to take care of the animals and make sure that William got his meals, so it was all good.

   On the third evening, Pero took the baby with him for a little stroll down the corridor, just to pass the time and shed some restlessness, and on the way, he met Abby who was coming back with food from a nearby Chinese restaurant.

   “This whole look really suits you, ninja-man,” she smiled as she reached him, eyeing him up and down and lingering on the tiny bundle, safely enveloped by his arms and hands.

   “Good, because I really like this feeling,” he replied, grinning back at her. “I never knew it was possible to feel so rich.”

   “How’s Bee?”

   “Sleeping, but she went for a walk with me earlier, and she looked strong. The nurses were happy to see it and said that we can probably go home tomorrow morning.”

   “That’s great, she’ll be more comfortable at home,” she agreed, and then the two of them headed for the room.

   You were once again sleeping when they walked in, but the smell of food woke you within seconds.

   “Is that Chinese?” you said, almost the same second that your eyes opened.

   “Have at it, mama,” Abby chuckled, putting the entire bag on the bed to let you rummage through it and pick out what you wanted.

   “Oh, I love you!” you giggled as you enthusiastically dug into the boxes, and Pero thought to himself that if the nurses still had any concerns, they should see you now.

   You’d been living on hospital food for the first two days, which was less than satisfactory, so that afternoon, when Abby had announced that she was going home to shower, you’d begged your best friend to bring something delicious when she returned.    He watched with a big smile on his face as you stuffed yours with rice and deep fried chicken, before continuing with noodles and then finally panko-fried fish.

   “I needed that, thank you so much, Abs,” you said as you eventually leaned back against the raised head-section of the bed, before reaching your arms towards Pero. “Here, I’ll take her while you eat.”

   He carefully handed her over to you and then picked out some food for himself, sitting down on the foot of the bed to dig into it with some chopsticks.    But his eyes were primarily on you, and there was so much adoration within him as he watched you cradle your daughter, marvelling at how you were already an expert on how she liked to be held, what noises meant that she was hungry, and how to soothe her whenever something bothered her.

   “Hey, baby girl. Did you have a nice walk with daddy?” you asked her softly, and she responded with a little cooing noise, making you smile. “Oh, I know, he’s very good company. You’re gonna be a daddy’s girl, aren’t you?”

   Pero couldn’t help the proud way that he pulled back his shoulders and let his chest puff up slightly as he listened to you.    It was one thing to know that he was loved and wanted by someone like you, but the way you so effortlessly fell into thinking of him, not just as a father, but as the second half of yourself upon which you could lean and rely, had a profound effect on his entire being.

   He would never understand how you’d come to believe that he was a worthwhile person to begin with, much less someone that you’d happily share your life with, especially with the way that the two of you had met.    There was so much that could’ve stood in your way, so many things that had threatened to tear you apart, but here you were, closer than ever.

   And as he sat there and watched you, seeing how you still glowed with maternal superiority, how you were somehow confident in your abilities, even though all of this was new to you, something occurred to him.

   “I understand now,” he started, and his own voice was trembling a bit, which caught your attention. “Your conviction about Will, your stubbornness to reach him, to not waste a single moment trying to bring him back… I get it.”

   Your eyes softened as you heard that, and he could see an encouraging little nod in your frame, when you realized what he was saying.

   “He was someone’s son,” he continued, and tears filled his eyes at the thought. “He was a father, husband, and… my brother.    You’re right. We have to help him before it’s too late.”

<><><><><> 

   It was odd. In a way, absolutely everything had changed, but somehow, everything was also exactly the same.    The days still consisted of largely the same routines, just with the addition of doing them with an infant on your arm.    Granted, you did sleep through most of the first few days, but there wasn’t much to do at the hospital anyway.

   Pero had been practically bouncing next to you whenever she’d been with you for the feeding, so incredibly eager to take over for the burping and everything else, that you’d never felt even the smallest bit guilty about going right back to sleep once she was satisfied.    And that was good, because clearly, you’d needed the rest. Your sleep had been dreamless and sometimes so deep that you hadn’t even noticed when Pero had put her by your breast.

   But once you got back to your father’s house, you felt so much better.    It was almost as though your brain had hit the reset button. You suddenly felt so much clearer, so much more energetic and positive. Although, given how awful your body had felt in the last month of your pregnancy, it was entirely plausible that you were just elated that it was finally over.

   As expected, your dad turned into a little kid himself once you were back, stealing the baby every chance he got, dancing and being generally silly with her, as well as ridiculously pleased whenever anyone called him grandpa.    The dogs were immediately taught that the little one was completely off limits, unless they were invited to greet her, and whenever they were, they treated her like a fragile flower.    Especially Groot.

   He was no longer glued to just your side, but to the side of whoever was currently holding his little sister, and he would even warn the other dogs off if they were playing too close to her or just not paying attention around her.    And at night, he wouldn’t sleep unless he as allowed to stay at the foot of the bed where he could still see her as she slept between you and Pero.

   Of the entire household, Abby was the only one that seemed to have escaped the baby-fever, although she was clearly very happy for the two of you.    She would hold the child and smile and coo at her, but she wasn’t as doe-eyed as the rest of you, which actually made complete sense, given what you knew about her relationship to her own mother.

   Arabella Sofia Morina. That was a name that you had heard yelled through an entire neighbourhood too many times to count.    Whenever she wasn’t home at the exact right time, or whenever she didn’t get back from the store fast enough after running an errand, or anyone of the hundreds of times that she’d snuck out of the house just to not have to be around her mother.

   You didn’t blame her for struggling to find her role as an aunt, because you knew that even though she was theoretically capable of taking care of a baby, she was also terrified of unwittingly transferring her demons onto your daughter.    There wasn’t enough therapy in the world to rid someone of the kind of post-traumatic stress that began at toddler age, and carried on throughout a child’s entire upbringing.    You knew that she was excited and happy for you and that she’d always be there for you and your family, and that was more than enough.

-=¤=-

   You’d only been home for two days when Pero brought up the subject of William again while you were having breakfast.    It was just the two of you at the table because Dean was out taking care of the horses and Abby was heading into the city to get started on the new studio.    As always, though, Groot was present.

   “About Will,” your partner started in between bites. “When do you think you will feel up to going to see him?”

   He was holding his daughter with his left arm while gripping a sandwich in his right hand, already perfectly accustomed to the adjustment of never having both hands free and looking completely unbothered by it.    If she made an unhappy sound he would automatically rock her or put his food down to rub her belly or stretch her legs to give her stomach more room to work, probably not even realizing that he was doing it.

   “It’s not like it takes all that much out of me, honey. I’d be happy to get back down there today,” you replied, and he shot you a smile of agreement.

   But then he hesitated and looked down on his coffee cup for a moment, so whatever he was about to say next, it was gonna be something that he was afraid that you might not agree with.

   “I think…” he started, and then paused, as if he was considering whether it really was too bad of an idea.

   And when he hadn’t started up again after about five seconds, you decided that maybe he needed a little push.

   “Sweetheart, whatever it is, you can say it. I’m not gonna cut your head off,” you promised, which made him relax a bit more.

   “Well… I was thinking that maybe we should bring her. Let him see her,” he suggested, and then held his breath as he waited to find out if you’d keep your promise.

   “Huh. I was thinking the same thing,” you calmly admitted.

   “Really?”

   “Yeah. Because no matter what else is going on inside his head, he’s still a father, and he still loves you. So, if anything’s gonna bring him back, it’s gonna be a child that’s part of his family. A baby that he’s permanently connected to.”

   “This is my exact reasoning too,” he almost chuckled in surprise at the serendipity.

   You decided to wait until lunch was due, mostly so that you could tell Dean that you were just gonna accompany Pero to the bunker to get some air and get out of the house for a bit, because you were certain that he wouldn’t much like the real reason.    It wasn’t often that you lied to your father, but this was important to both you and your partner, and you weren’t sure that granddad would be able to see past his fears on this.    He hadn’t taken it well when he’d found out that you’d stepped into the cell that first time, as no parent would, so you decided to spare him the stress this time.

   The walk through the woods did end up being wonderful, though. You’d missed walking while being pregnant, as it had been impossible to enjoy a single step in the final months.    Pero pushed the stroller and you walked by his side with an arm looped through his, slowly trudging along the familiar little trek in comfortable silence while you took in the late summer smells, sights, and sounds.

   It was late August by then, and you’d met Pero that first time at The Bop in early October the year before, which made your mind spin for a moment.    Not even a year had passed, and yet, so much had happened.    You wondered if you could even recall everything, and that made you think about maybe trying to write it all down, like a kind of memoir.

   The thought appealed to you, firstly because it would almost certainly help your mental health to sort through all that trauma and make better sense of it. But also, because at some point in your future, your child or children was gonna want to know about your life, and you worried that by then, you might’ve forgotten or supressed most of it.    Additionally, writing by hand would help to rehabilitate the finer motor functions in your damaged hand.

   “I will go down first,” Pero announced once you reached the hidden door. “You take her and stay out of sight at first. I want to see what kind of mood he’s in before we do this.”

   “Agreed. We should definitely pick the right moment for it, or it might backfire.”

   “You have a better sense of his reactions than I do, so if you feel that the time is right, I will trust your judgement, pintora.”

   Hearing him say that made you realize just how much becoming a father had changed his perspective on William.    He had always trusted you to protect yourself, until that moment when you’d put yourself within reach of your assassin, and it had severely hampered his ability to trust your judgement around the man.

   But now he understood what your maternal instincts had known even before your conscious mind did: that a parent never stops being a parent, no matter how much conditioning they might be put through.    You’d understood right there, when he’d stopped at the words ‘I love you’, that nothing had been able to carve that piece of his heart out, and never would, but Pero hadn’t reached that point yet back then.

   You both stepped up to the one-way mirror to check what Will was doing, and it was somehow so disheartening to see him in exactly the same state as the last time you’d been down there.    Huddled in a corner, too thin, his skin almost grey and his entire being so clearly closed off to the rest of the world. Like he was little more than a shadow.

   Pero’s shoulders dropped a fraction, and you felt his energy shift.    It had always amazed you how he could fill the space of any room with his impressive energy, but it had been a long time since you’d last felt him do it.    This felt like a part of him died in that moment, just with the knowledge of the fact that even if you could save his brother, the man he’d once known was probably gone for good.

   You took his hand and squeezed it encouragingly, giving him a warm smile when it made him look at you, and he couldn’t help but reciprocate.    You stayed behind the glass as he went to the door and opened it, slowly stepping inside while his brother lifted his head to check who was visiting his prison this time.    Will was never the first to speak, and he never said anything at all in Pero’s presence, so for half a minute, it was dead quiet in there.

   “Sorry to have been gone a while,” your partner started, but you knew that the apology was just the appetizer.

   He was going to need to provoke his prisoner in order to gauge his temperament, because even if he never spoke around him, the man was incapable of containing his rage towards him.

   “I see you are still not appreciating our efforts to help you regain your strength,” Pero noted, indicating the breakfast baguette filled with beef that Will had thrown across the room instead of eating.

   “I know you are pissed at me, and I don’t blame you,” your partner continued, “but what exactly are you hoping to accomplish here?    If you want to die there are quicker ways to take care of it.”

   To a Falcon, the most disgraceful thing in existence, was giving up. Taking their own lives was something they would only do to save the mission, or protect valuable information, never as a way out of pain or capture.    Even suggesting it was the lowest, most disrespectful and offensive thing that he could possibly say to the man, and the effect was instantaneous.

   William was suddenly in the middle of the room, straining against the chain in his efforts to reach Pero, probably to rip out his tongue before bashing his head in.    Thankfully however, your man was keeping just out of his reach.    And thus, the fight began.

   For a good twenty minutes, Pero played his brother like a fiddle, riling him up and then confusing him with completely unrelated topics, before ending on a note of compassion and forgiveness, which left Will looking hollow. Expressionless and numb.    And that was your cue.

   Your partner waited until you’d walked inside and sat down, before he stepped back to lean against the doorway, giving you as much space as he dared.    At first, Will didn’t notice what you were holding, because he was staring blankly at the floor in between the two of you.    But once you’d sat down, the baby made a little grunting noise, and his ears pricked.

   As you’d expected, that was a sound that he couldn’t control his reaction to. He blinked, and his mind came alive again, entirely against his will, seeking the source of that innocent, pure, devastatingly sweet sound.    You didn’t say anything, or even look at him, keeping your entire focus on your daughter instead, to emphasize the point that you were trying to make, which was that love conquered everything.

   “Her name is Mae,” you said with a warm smile just as she yawned, which you found unreasonably adorable.

   There was no mystery to the choice of the name, and from the moment that Pero had suggested it, you hadn’t been able to imagine her being called anything else.    As though it had always been her destiny to bring the broken pieces of this family together, naming her after Lin Mae had seemed almost predetermined.    Another star in the sky aligning to help set things straight.

   There was complete silence for a few seconds, and then you heard it.    Not quite a sigh, or a growl, or a sob, but definitely a strong and pained sound, coming from the very deepest parts of Will’s chest.    You just kept looking at your baby, to give him the space to react without feeling observed, and from the corner of your eye, you could see that Pero was looking at his own feet, likely for the same reason.

   And as the moment grew, another sound reached you. This time a heavy and strained breath that soon developed into what sounded like crying, so you looked up.    Your heart broke at the sight of him.    Because where torture and betrayal had failed, one small child had succeeded, leaving the man broken and torn to pieces, and you wondered just how many times a person could be unmade, before they simply couldn’t be put back together again.

   What started as relatively mild sorrow, turned into full-blown sobs within a single breath, and suddenly he was holding his own chest and rocking back and forth, unable to take his eyes off the baby even though they were so filled with tears that he probably couldn’t even see her.

   You wanted to reach for him and hold him close, tell him that he was loved and forgiven and that his family would always be with him. But it wasn’t safe, so you forced yourself to stay put and just watch as he fell apart before you.    In that moment, however, Pero apparently reached his limit, because in no time at all he was suddenly across the room, kneeling before William and wrapping his arms around him.

   For a moment, you feared that the action would set his brother off and undo what you’d just managed to unlock within him.    But it didn’t.    He might not have held Pero in return, but he allowed himself to be held, allowed the comfort to exist between them, and that was a huge leap forward.

   Seeing the two of them like that, finally sharing a moment free of accusation or animosity, gave you a glimpse of what they’d really been to one another before all this, and that gave you hope.    You’d never lost hope for Will to begin with, but you’d feared so many things and been so worried about the potential for the two of them to hurt each other, that you’d unknowingly kept yourself from really believing that it would be okay.

   As though light had been stolen from the realm of your person a little bit each day, getting it all back in one big flash was blinding and overwhelming and left you sobbing too.    But these were good tears. Even though they stung your eyes, you welcomed them.    You looked at little Mae, sleeping peacefully in your arms, and you smiled through the pain, wordlessly thanking her for enduring the nine months of stress that you’d put her through, and promising to do better.

   Because it was entirely possible that she had just saved a good man’s life, and her father’s sanity as well, all within the first week of her life.    So, you could only surmise that she was an actual guardian angel, brought into this world to make it brighter and happier, and even if that was just maternal pride talking, you were willing to let yourself believe it.

   There had been so much darkness around you in the past year, that you were entirely ready to imagine that the universe had finally decided to balance the scales, giving you this wonderful gift of positivity as a reward for your perseverance.    You knew that it wasn’t over, that there were still a lot of work to be done, but for now, you just soaked in the bittersweet sunlight of the moment.

===============

Link to Part 27

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Oh, for fuck's sake. If you knew how much time I've spent on this hellsite, just updating links...

Part 25 - Developments

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Things are a bit tense still, as you're refusing to give up on William, despite having much bigger concerns baring down on you.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 5986 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

<><><><><><><><><><>

   Pero remained guarded around you in the following weeks, refusing to let you wander off on your own or be without some form of supervision as much as possible, to make sure that you didn’t stray towards the bunker alone again.    He knew that at some point, you’d find a way to circumvent his efforts, but he was damned well gonna try and keep you out of there for as long as he could.

   You still kept to your normal routine of visiting William every day, bringing him food and attempting to converse with him. But as you repeatedly emphasized, the man refused to speak whenever Pero was there.    He didn’t really care that much if Will spoke or not, for the time being, because he had been serious when he’d said that the two of you had more important things to worry about.

   Your due date was approaching fast and there was still so much that you hadn’t figured out about your future.    The studio was still just an empty lot, you hadn’t put any new construction in motion there yet. And while you were living on the ranch in order to keep working on de-conditioning your captive, your own home was still where you were supposed to be nesting.

   There was so much that was just sort of hanging in the air, and it made him anxious.    Because Pero wanted to do all the normal things. He wanted to make a crib and a rocking chair, he wanted to outfit the house so that it would be safe for a toddler, finish redecorating the guest room into a nursery…    Everything that had been put on hold when he’d had to send you away still needed to be done, and it saddened him that you didn’t seem to care all that much about those things.

   Happily, however, he had an ally in your best friend.    Abby was every bit as excited as he was for the new arrival, and took every opportunity to remind you that you needed to take care of yourself first and that everything else was secondary for the time being.    And while you tried to ignore her just as you did with your partner, she was well and truly inoculated against your stubbornness, and would force you to listen to her.

   When you were just two weeks away from full term, Pero overheard a conversation between the two of you while Abby was helping you change the sheets in the bed one afternoon.    He heard that you were talking before he reached the room, so he stopped just outside the door and lurked and eavesdropped, already smiling as conversations between you two were almost always amusing.

   “What do you mean?” he heard you question, but in a light-hearted manner.

   “I mean that you’re not exactly nimble at the moment. You’re a minor house walking around, it’s not like you’re gonna be doing any gymnastics in the near future,” Abby explained, so Pero guessed that the topic concerned sex, which made sense given that you were working with the bed.

   “I am not a fucking house,” you countered, slightly less humorous in your tone, but still not quite offended by the comment.

   “You’re home to an entire little person, that’s the definition of a house, Bee.”

   “Be that as it may, I’ll be doing whatever gymnastics I want,” you petulantly insisted, and Pero had to stifle a laugh.

   Because even at nearly nine months pregnant, there was absolutely nothing wrong with your libido, which was why you’d been riding him like a cowgirl earlier that morning.    Something which Abby absolutely did not want to picture or imagine but was also too curious not to further explore.

   “No way. You’re not still…?” she trailed off, clearly uncomfortable with the subject, but unable to leave it be.

   “Of course, we are,” you flippantly answered, obviously pleased to have gotten her off balance. “Just this morning, actually.”

   There was a pause then, during which he couldn’t hear any sound from the sheets that you were working with, so Abby had probably been brought to a halt hearing that.

   “But… how does that even work? How does he… get there?” she finally asked, sounding morbidly curious.

   “The same way he always does, how else would it work?” you replied, but there was a chuckle in your throat then. “Sure, we can’t do that many positions, but it’s far from impossible.”

   “Okay, that’s enough information, thank you,” Abby halted, having finally regained her senses, making you laugh.

   “You asked…”

   “Yeah, I know. Sorry.    To tell you the truth, seeing you like this, glowing and all… It’s making me think about my mom,” she confessed, which surprised Pero.

   He’d never heard her speak of her family, and you had never mentioned them either. He’d assumed that they’d died or that she just didn’t have any relationship with them, but he’d never wanted to bring it up, in case it went unmentioned for a reason.

   “Oh,” you breathed, sounding sad now, which seemed to confirm his suspicions. “I haven’t heard you mention her in a long while.”

   “Well, you know me. I run from everything serious,” Abby admitted.

   “Yeah, except you haven’t been doing that lately. You’ve lost your home and your old life is all but gone, yet here you are, taking care of me and helping my dad about the house and being a friend to Pero when he’s struggling.    This is as well adjusted as I’ve ever seen you be,” you said softly, and he heard your friend sigh heavily.

   “I’m really just putting one foot in front of the other, because I just don’t know what else to do. But all those things are easy to me. I’ve always been a people-person and happy to help others, that stuff comes naturally.    What’s hard is not having a job to go to, a purpose beyond being a friend, and no money of my own to spend as I please,” she elaborated, sounding sad now too.

   “You could always help me get the studio up and running again,” you suggested, with a carefully hopeful undertone.

   “Sure, but you’re the one in charge, so I can’t make any creative decisions for you. I wouldn’t be much help.”

   “Abs, you’re practically my twin, and one of the most artistically talented people I know, in so many different fields that I couldn’t even name them all,” you exclaimed, sounding almost shocked that this wasn’t already obvious to her. “Of course, I trust you with creative decisions… You’d probably make the new place look twice as good as the old one, with minimal effort and a fraction of the cost.    And with everything that I’ll be dealing with over the coming months, I’d happily put you in charge of everything business related. It would take so much pressure off of me.”

   There was a pause then, and Pero held his breath in anticipation, because he really wanted Abby to agree to this. It would help so much more than she could imagine.

   “You’re gonna be an amazing mother,” she said after another beat, and he thought that she was side-stepping the question, but then she continued. “You’re so good at making me feel like any problem isn’t actually that bad, or that whatever crap I’m dealing with is completely manageable if I just take a breath and think about it.    I know that I mostly haven’t listened whenever you’ve done that for me, but I’ve always heard you and I’ve always been amazed by how tolerant you’ve been with me.”

   She paused then, but you didn’t respond, and a moment later, she added:

   “If my mother had been half as good at that as you are, I probably would’ve been a much better person from the start.”

   “Hey, don’t talk like that. You’ve always been a good person, and you know it,” you countered. “Sharon was a broken and cruel woman and if you’d stayed there any longer, she would’ve broken you too.”

   “Yeah, I know. It’s just… most of us only get one mother, and as much as I knew that mine was shit, she was still my mom and I loved her. I wanted her to be better and I was always so disappointed every time that she reminded me that she just wasn’t.    Anyway, my point is that I love you for being everything that she wasn’t, because I know that your little girl is gonna be so loved and cherished and that you’re both gonna protect her the way that I should’ve been protected.”

   Pero suddenly felt bad for eavesdropping, because this was clearly something that Abby would only speak to you about. But just as he was about to step through the door and reveal himself, you made a surprised and slightly pained sound.

   “Pintora?” he called as he hastily entered the room, startling you both and making you yelp.

   “Jesus, Pero… where’d you come from? Were you lurking out there?” you gasped, but he was already kneeling in front of you where you sat next to Abby on the edge of the finished bed.

   “Where does it hurt?” he asked, completely ignoring your questions, putting his hands on top of yours on the sides of your belly.

   “It was just a tinge, nothing to worry about. I probably just over-worked some muscle while we made the bed,” you brushed it off, but he wasn’t convinced.

   “It didn’t sound like muscle ache, it sounded like sharp pain.”

   “It was, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, so clearly, it wasn’t anything labour-related.    Breathe and relax, honey, she’s still two weeks away,” you soothed, and the reminder did help him to unclench his own tense muscles.

   “Sorry… you scared me,” he admitted, as if that wasn’t already perfectly obvious.

   “It’s okay, love. I’d rather see you jump into action than just shrug.    But seriously, were you eavesdropping just now?” you pressed, and he looked apologetically at Abby.

   “I apologize if I overheard something that you were not willing to share,” he confessed, but she offered a warm smile in return.

   “Thanks for coming clean, but don’t worry about it. I don’t much like to talk about my mom, but not because I don’t want people to know. Just because it’s fucking hard to talk about someone that hurt you when they should’ve cared for you.    Which I’m sure you know all about,” she finished with a meaningful tilt of her head, and as much as he might’ve wanted to, he couldn’t disagree with her.

   She slipped off the bed and leaned down to give him a hug, which he gratefully reciprocated because it was her way of saying that he was forgiven and that they were still good, and then she turned back to you but began moving towards the door.

   “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a studio to build,” she said, winked at you and then slipped out of the room.

   That made Pero smile.

   “Good. You need to get your life back on track, mi amor. I’m happy that you have set things in motion and that you are ready to start looking ahead.”

   “I have been looking ahead all along, Pero, it’s just that I also see Will in our future, not just Abby, Dean and the baby,” you replied, and he sighed.

   While he tried to gather his thoughts on that subject, he felt your right hand begin to rub the side of your belly, a movement so common to you now that you weren’t even aware that you were doing it anymore.    But he knew that it meant that the baby was kicking, causing you some discomfort, so he gently pushed your hand away and replaced it with his own.

   Slipping under your shirt, he started to rub large circles over the area where he felt the tiny foot patter against the inside of his hand. And when that didn’t work, he began to sing a little Spanish lullaby for her.    If nothing else, his singing always helped to soothe you, which was sometimes enough to make the baby relax along with you.

   “I want that too. You know that, right?” he asked once the song ended, and the baby had calmed.

   “Yeah, I do. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have made much sense to spare his life. But you don’t seem to believe that it’s even possible that he might get to that point.”

   “Because so far, I’ve seen nothing to give me confidence in such beliefs.    He might improve, and you might be right about you being the one that can bring him back, but even then, how could I ever trust him with you?” he questioned, meeting your eyes and seeing how you slumped hearing that. “How can I ever trust that he’s not just waiting for us to begin letting our guard down before he completes his mission?    Tell me how I’m supposed to trust him with my family, ever again?”

   You didn’t have any of those answers, and it saddened you more than he’d thought that it would.

   “Why is this so important to you, pintora?” he carefully prodded, and you exhaled tiredly.

   “Because I wasn’t playing him when I said that I love him. I really do,” you declared, which puzzled him, but you were quick to explain yourself. “He’s my brother as much as he is yours, and I hate that there doesn’t seem to be any way for us to just be together and be a family.    I refuse to believe that that’s impossible. Especially now that he’s started talking and I can hear how desperate and frightened he is.”

   “I do understand that, my love. But the problem that you can’t see, specifically because you didn’t know him before this, is that he was a master at putting people at ease. He had such a genuine way about him that even when he lied through his teeth, no one could tell.”

   “Not even you?” you challenged, and he frowned.

   “Yes, but I don’t trust that I still can.”

   “Why not?”

   “Because I don’t recognize the man in that cell as the same man that I knew. I see bits of him, but not enough to trust even my own perception.”

   “So, that’s it then? We just give up and let him rot down there?”

   Pero sighed in frustration and got up to start pacing around the room.    This was the exact same argument that he’d been having with himself on a daily basis ever since Will turned up, and there was still no answer in sight.

   “You can’t do that either, because you still love him too,” you continued when you saw that he wasn’t offering any further thoughts. “So, if you can’t trust him and you can’t let him go or end him, then how about trying something new.”

   “Like what?”

   “Trusting me,” you said firmly, and before he could object to the idea that he didn’t already trust you, you got up and took his hands to stop his pacing. “You’re right, I don’t know him like you do, but what if that’s precisely why I can reach him?    What if the fact that I don’t have all those memories and history with him to interfere with my perception, is exactly why I can meet him where he is right now, without judging him based on previous behaviour.”

   He hated how sensible that sounded, because he still didn’t want to admit that you were probably right about everything. He simply didn’t dare to.    But maybe, he could find some manner of middle ground.

   “If you swear to me that you will remain out of his reach at all times… not giving him the benefit of the doubt just because you feel sorry or bad about chaining him up… then maybe I can agree to ten minutes alone time per day,” he suggested, feeling dangerously generous.

   “Ten minutes won’t be enough, it took forty minutes just to get a word out of him last time,” you protested, but he just glared at you.

   This was already a stretch for him to even consider, and if you pushed it, he’d take that offer off the table in a fucking heartbeat.    Which you could see in his eyes even though he didn’t answer you.

   “Okay. I’ll make it work,” you wisely conceded, looking oddly defeated, even though he’d just taken a huge leap for your sake.

   “You are quite impossible, sometimes,” he said with a soft smile, while leaning forwards to rest his forehead against yours.

   “Only in response to pig-headedness,” you joked, making him snort.

   “You’re the one with the pig.”

   “Oh, right,” you recalled, and then started looking around the room. “Where’d I put it?”

   “You’ve really gotten attached to that little toy…” he said, laughing a little at you as you began to rummage around the room.

   “It’s comforting,” you shot back over your shoulder, without stopping in your search. “And it smells like you.”

   “Then you should not leave it in the kitchen, or the dogs might steal it,” he told you, holding his hand out to you in a silent invitation to accompany you downstairs where he knew the toy to be, to retrieve it.

   You chuckled at yourself, but also seemed to make a mental note that he was right about that and that you should be more careful with it.

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   Pero could be quite infuriating at times, and the closer your due date got, the more impossible he became.    The ten minute limit that he’d put on your solo time with Will got shorter and shorter, hampering your chances of progress, and annoying you to no end.    But in his reactions, you also began to wonder if perhaps your judgement really wasn’t all that reliable at the time.

   Because you really were putting yourself in grave danger, and yet it seemed perfectly safe to you. Not even worthy of worrying about.    You wondered if hormones had something to do with it, making you feel invincible or indestructible somehow.    But whatever the case, when you were just three days away from popping, you decided to stop torturing your partner.

   You told him that you weren’t going to see Will at all for a while, which seemed to make a giant boulder fall from his shoulders.    He hugged you for a good five minutes, whispering repeated thanks in your ear and promising to look after him until you’d be able to start working on him again.    So, from that moment on, you were singularly focused on becoming a mom.

   You went shopping with Abby, letting her pick out all the ridiculously cute miniature outfits that she wanted, adding a few of your own to the pile as well.    And stocking up on diapers and pacifiers, wet wipes and towels, bibs and bottles, and all the little bits and pieces you could think of that you might need, finally made everything hit home for you.

   The child inside of you was baked and ready and could come into this world at any moment, and suddenly you didn’t feel at all ready.    Suddenly all the potential complications of childbirth were swirling through your head, making you terrified for Pero’s sake, because if anything happened to you, he’d be completely heartbroken.

   “Wait…” you said to Abby, who was carrying all the bags for you through the mall. “I need to sit down.”

   “Sure,” she agreed, and you turned to a bench on your right and sat down, spreading your legs wide to accommodate the belly as you leaned forwards to try and calm yourself with a few deep breaths.

   “You okay?” she asked, and you could hear worry in her voice. “Dizzy spell? Or sore feet?”

   “Anxiety,” you answered, and felt her hand begin to rub slow circles on your upper back.

   “What’s on your mind, Boo?”

   “Uh… I think that I just kinda realized the real gravity of all this. The stakes, you know?” you tried to explain, struggling to speak with the aching pain in your chest.

   “I can only imagine,” she admitted. “But as your sister, I need to remind you of the rewards that you stand to gain.”

   “Yeah, I know that. It’s just so scary to think that it could all go horribly wrong, even if we do everything right,” you said, leaning back to try and open up your airways a bit more. “It’s not like a whole lot of these nine months have been relaxing.”

   “True. But even though you’ve been under almost constant stress and fear, your pregnancy has still been pretty much textbook. Even that little scare a few months ago never repeated itself or caused any further reason for concern.    You’re a superwoman, in so many ways, and I truly believe that everything is going to go smoothly,” she soothed, having moved her hand to hold yours instead.

   Her words helped, but more than that, it was her genuine positivity that crept inside your brain and eased your worries, letting your chest relax and the pain fade away.

   “Thank you,” you offered while leaning into her side and resting your head on her shoulder for a moment.

   “Anytime, my darling.”

-=¤=-

   Back at your father’s house, Pero met you at the door with a big smile and a kiss, happy to have you home but also glad that you’d taken some time for yourself and done something normal for once.

   “I will carry the bags,” he insisted when Abby went to the trunk to start unloading it, and she was only all too happy to not have to haul the giant harvest of stuff inside.

   “In that case, I’m gonna go see if Dean needs any help with dinner,” she said, and then skipped off into the house.

   “Are you sure you’re alright with all that?” you asked, watching Pero try and get as many bags with him as he could.

   “Of course!” he enthusiastically chuckled. “I will have to make two trips, but this is good, Pintora. I like this very much!”

   You laughed at his childishly happy grin as he passed through the front door while you held it open for him.    Once inside, you found both your father and bestie by the stove, lovingly bickering about which seasoning worked best for whatever dish that they were preparing, and smiled to yourself as you slipped past them and followed your partner up the stairs.    Groot was in the kitchen too, and fell in beside you as you passed him.

   “Take a seat, amor, and don’t start unpacking anything until I get back, I want to see everything,” he said, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead once you’d plopped down on the bed, before rushing out of the room to get the remaining bags.

   “Oh, you don’t have to ask me twice,” you called after him and then kicked your shoes off to let your swollen feet have some air.

   Groot thought that that was a game, and kindly retrieved the footwear for you before he sat down beside your left leg and stuck his tongue out to grin at you.    Smiling back at him, you stroked the top of his head and told him what a good boy he was, even though you didn’t need the shoes, because he was so proud of himself.

   You’d resorted to using crocs, as they were the only type of shoes that didn’t give you blisters, even though you’d never liked them before.    But around the house, and even outside, you walked barefoot all the time. It was by far the most comfortable, but obviously not advisable when moving around town, where you never knew who might’ve thrown a glass bottle on the sidewalk. Or just gum.

   “There, that’s all of it,” Pero grinned as he returned with the last of the stuff, dropping another six bags on the bed and then clapping his hands together. “Where should we start?”

   You spent a good hour sitting on the bed, letting him organize and hand you things while you unpacked everything together. And you grinned the whole time as you watched him carefully inspecting every item and making sure that he knew what every last thing was and what it was for.    He was like a kid in a candy-store, which made Groot excited as well.

   The dog mimicked the human, sniffing all the items after Pero had looked at them, wagging his tail the whole time, which amused your partner and made him start handing the canine each item once he was done with it.    The two of them even had their own little commentary, with the human assessing and offering his thoughts to the dog, who would answer him with unintelligible (and adorable) babblings and then the two of them would agree that whatever the item was, it was good.

   “Ay, mi amor, this makes me so happy. Look at all these baby things!” Pero eventually bubbled, not bothering to hold back any bit of the joy and excitement that he felt, as he came to sit beside you and planted a big kiss on your lips. “We’re so close, pintora, she’s almost here!”

   Infected by both of their happiness, you laughed with your partner and just sat there, enjoying the simplicity and complexity of that moment, allowing it to cleanse your mind of the fears you’d had earlier.    It seemed almost silly in hindsight, because while there certainly were risks, there was no reason to think that anything bad would happen to you or the child. And even if something did go wrong, your beloved Pero would be there with you through all of it.

   And if, stars forbid, something terrible should happen to you, your family would take care of him and your little girl. They would never abandon or refuse to help him, nor would they allow him to destroy himself.    One way or another, everything would be okay.

-=¤=-

   The next morning, you were in the stables, giving Ike a little well deserved pampering when Dean came back from a ride with Happy and all the dogs.    Groot immediately bounced over to you for pets and scratches, when he noticed you in the rear half of the corridor between the stalls, and you greeted him with happy nonsensical ramblings about what a good boy he was, which made him even bouncier.

   “Morning, Bumblebee. You’re up early,” your father greeted as he led Happy into her stall and started taking her gear off.

   “Morning, dad. Yeah, I couldn’t sleep, I’ve been up since four,” you explained, and he hummed thoughtfully.

   “Feeling okay?” he prodded, and you knew from his tone that he was really asking about the baby.

   “Unfortunately, I don’t think today’s the day,” you replied, annoyance making you scrunch up your nose, which he noticed.

   “Well, don’t try to rush it, honey. The first time is almost always a bit too long, because it just takes a minute for the body to figure it all out.    She’ll come only when you’re good and ready.”

   “I know, but I really do feel very ready. It seems like every day that passes now is just more time for my body to discover another thing to torture me with,” you complained, because sometimes whining for a bit did actually make you feel better.

   “At least you only had the one nightmare, and no hallucinations,” he reminded you, trying to put things in a bigger perspective, because your pregnancy had been pretty easy, all things considered.

   Then again, you hadn’t been mentally present for the first few months of it.

   “True enough, but believe it or not, that doesn’t make my back or ankles feel any better,” you persisted, and he smiled in an empathetic sort of way, so you sighed and continued. “All my joints feel off, like they’re full of jelly, which makes me feel unsteady. And my hands hurt for seemingly no reason.    My neck is under so much strain that I get headaches and even toothache from it, which I didn’t know was possible. And the heartburn is unbelievable, it’s completely robbed me of all appetite, so then I don’t have enough energy for anything, but I also can’t get comfortable enough to really sleep… it’s fucking endless.”

   “No, not endless. Just very uncomfortable,” he reminded you, making you sigh.

   “There’s not much distinction between those two words for me right now.    Especially since just this morning, my body decided to hit me with a brand new discomfort, out of nowhere, in the form of mild constipation. As if I nee-…” you grumbled, but then Dean cut you off.

   “Wait, wait… how does it feel?” he asked, which left you scratching your head for a second, just from the apparent uselessness of the question.

   “Like I wanna take a dump, but I can’t, how else would it feel?”

   But then a peculiar little smile came over him, and your annoyance abruptly vanished.

   “Here, let me take the horses outside while you go and wake Pero,” he suggested, stopping to kiss your temple and give you a quick hug, before he untied Ike and started leading him away.

   “Yeah… okay,” you answered almost in a daze, suddenly struggling to grasp that it might actually be happening. “Do you really think it’s…”

   “Yes, sweetheart, I do. Because you’ve never had those kinds of problems before. It’s probably unlikely that you’ll see any major developments for several hours yet, but I’m sure that you’re in the early stages of labour. It can masquerade as bowel discomfort at first.    And if I’m wrong, then at least you get a thorough check-up.”

   You nodded, still not fully understanding what was happening, but you did as you were told, because your father was not only 100% more experienced than you on this matter, he was also a trained army medic.

   Walking into the kitchen and heading over to the stairs, you were suddenly worried about tripping or falling, so you grabbed the handrail tightly and moved with exaggerated caution as you took one step at a time.    Meanwhile, Groot was confused by your slow advancement, repeatedly skipping up a few steps, only to immediately turn around and come back down, when he noticed that you weren’t catching up.

   Once you reached the bedroom, you found Pero on his stomach, hugging your pillow and snoring lightly in the dim light of the still closed blinds.    He’d woken up when you’d left the bed hours earlier, but you’d assured him that you were just uncomfortable in the bed, which was entirely true, and he’d asked you to let him know if you needed anything, before falling right back asleep.

   “Honey, wake up,” you gently whispered, but despite the soft tone of your voice, he sprung to action before he’d fully woken up, fumbling around among the sheets until he remembered which way was up and what part of his body needed to move to get him to sit.

   “Wha-I’m up! I’m awake, whas-goin-on?” he spluttered with a half-asleep tongue, making you smile.

   “It’s hospital time, apparently,” you answered, and it took him about one and a half seconds to realize what that meant.

   His gaze darted down to your belly and back up to your eyes, before popping wide… and then he panicked.    He bounced out of the bed and was by the closet a second later, ripping out clothes and pulling them on without even checking that they were the right way around, pulling on his t-shirt backwards.

   “Pero…” you calmly interrupted after another few moments. “Those are my jeans, they won’t fit you.”

   Confused, he looked down at the pair that he was attempting to pull his leg through, staring at the garment for a solid two seconds before it sunk in.

   “Calm down, there’s no rush,” you said while moving around the bed to reach him, taking his hands once you got to him. “Nothing’s happened yet, it might even be a false alarm, but we’re gonna go and check.    The go-bag is packed and ready and waiting in the front hall, remember? So, all you need to do is your morning toilet, get dressed, and walk out to the car. Dad’s gonna drive us.”

   He seemed to regain most of his sanity as he listened to you, but he was trembling with adrenaline.

   “Are you sure that you’re okay?” he asked in a whisper, probably because that was as much as he could manage.

   “I feel fine, I promise,” you assured him, pulling him in for a hug. “Now, go brush your teeth and splash some cold water on your face, while I prepare some clothes for you.”

   He pulled back, placing a sweet kiss on your lips along the way, and then hurried past you to the bathroom, still very much stressed out, but in control of himself at least.    And a few minutes later, he re-emerged looking fresh and much more relaxed, smiling at the comfy, but still appropriate outfit that you’d prepared for him, in the form of his favourite jeans, a grey t-shirt and a red flannel shirt.

   “How are you so calm?” he asked while sitting down on the bed to pull the pants on.

   “Because I don’t feel anything alarming yet,” you explained, but that didn’t make sense to him.

   “But then, how do you know that it’s time?”

   “I don’t, but Dean thinks it is.”

   Pero trusted your father perhaps even more than he trusted you, so just hearing that made him feel more at ease about all this.    He nodded and gave you a small smile, pulling his socks on and then coming to your side as he slipped the red shirt onto his shoulders and adjusted the collar.

   “Alright. Then let’s go,” he said, offering you his arm to support your waddling while you made your way to the stairs.

   Like before, you were still scared of tripping, so you were grateful to have his strong frame to hold on to on your one side, and the railing on the other, as you carefully stepped down to the ground floor.    He picked up the large duffel bag that was waiting inside the front door, and then you walked out to your father’s car.

   For some reason, it was heartbreaking to have to tell Groot to stay inside and then leave him behind, but there was no choice. He wouldn’t be welcome in the maternity ward, no matter how good he was for your emotional strength and overall sense of security.    He whined unhappily after you’d closed the door, and suddenly you were fighting tears.

   Dean wasn’t by the car yet, so Pero helped you get in and get buckled up while you waited, and just as he was done, a large hand came to rest on his shoulder.    He turned to find the older man standing behind him, and suddenly Pero looked so small and worried. Because in front of you he was trying to be strong and brave, while your dad’s experience and calmness made him feel safe enough to let his emotions show.

   “Everything’s gonna be fine, son. I’m gonna be there with you the whole time. We’re gonna do this as a family, right?”

   Just as he said that, Abby hopped into the car in the front passenger seat, leaving the backseat for you and your partner.

   “Damned right we are,” she said with a smile, turning back to hold out a closed fist at you, which you bumped with a chuckle.

   “Damned right we are,” you mirrored, winking at your partner and father, which made them both smile too.

   They hopped into the car, buckled up, and then you set off to find out if today was the day you’d get to meet your little piglet.

===============

Link to Part 26

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @anditsmywholeheart

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Hah, that's perfect!

Part 24 - Progress Takes Time

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

You're trying to navigate helping William whilst also circumventing Pero's overprotective tendencies.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I'm so sorry for the wait, my loves! I'm once again battling myself to try and not put so much pressure on myself to write, and that means taking it slow and letting it happen naturally. I hope someone out here still enjoys the story, and again, I'm sorry for being so erratic with my updates <3

Word Count: 4168 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 25

<><><><><><><><><><>

   Groot had been so focused on your partner, trying to comfort him from the pain of his own guilt, while you’d stepped into the cell, that even he had reacted too late to help you.    And when his human brother had leapt onto his feet once he’d realized what you’d been doing, the dog had remained frozen to the spot on the floor where he’d laid beside Pero, with his ears and head held low.

   Almost as if your actions had been so determined and sure that you had even managed to convince the animal that he wouldn’t be able to stop you, even before you’d stepped away from them.    If so, that might explain why Groot still didn’t move as Pero pulled you from the room and slammed the door shut.

   “Pintora, what the fuck were you thinking!? He could’ve killed you!” he barked at you, but his voice was weak and fractured, overwhelmed by the fear of knowing just how easily he could’ve lost you right then.

   “He stopped, Pero,” you countered, with tears still streaming down your face and a terrible tremble bothering your empty hands. “He stopped.”

   “You got lucky…” he cautioned, because he was not at all ready to believe that William had deliberately backed off.

   But you soured then, as if his perspective was offensive for some reason, and stepped away from him to pick up the little piglet that you’d dropped on the floor when you’d caught him earlier.    Crossing your arms over your chest, you pinned the stuffed animal at the top of your belly, which already seemed to be your favourite spot for it, and glared at him.

   “I understand that you’re still frightened of him, but I’m telling you that he heard me. I got to him, I could see it in his eyes.”

   “Bee… if you ever step foot in that cell again-…”

   “You’ll what?” you cut him off, challenging him to reveal his fears in full and stop hiding behind the other man’s evil.

   Pero wasn’t strong enough to admit to himself that this was all the result of his own failure, but he also couldn’t conceal his weakness anymore.    He crumbled under your strength, unable to fathom how you simply weren’t afraid of the man right then, feeling so small compared to you and the massiveness of your confidence in that moment.

   “You can never trust him, mi amor…” he finally whispered, unable to bring any more strength to his voice. “He will kill you if you let him, you must believe that.”

   He felt so powerless standing there, all but begging you not to put yourself in danger, when he should’ve just made sure that you never could again. But somehow, he knew in his heart that you would not be stopped, no matter the risk.    You had walked into that cell with a conviction of some sort, a knowledge that Pero wasn’t privy to and probably couldn’t understand even if he had been.

   You had walked in there knowing… knowing that you would walk out alive. Not just believing it but knowing it so absolutely that even William had felt it in you.

   “What I believe, is that if we keep going like we have until now, we’re gonna end up destroying both ourselves and each other,” you calmly stated. “And I will not let that happen.    I will defend this family, Pero… even against you.”

   That brought his mind to an abrupt stop, because what the hell did that mean? He had never been the threat… had he?

   But the more he thought about it, the clearer the answer became.    He wasn’t a threat so much as the weak link in the chain. The one that put everyone at risk, because if he broke, the people around him would all suffer.    He’d been unable to kill Will, unable to break him, unable to stop this darkness from hurting you and your family, and now, his hope was faltering.

   Of course, you had to protect yourself from him. He wasn’t giving you any other option.

   “The killing has to stop,” you said softly, coming closer again and uncrossing one arm so that you could take his hand. “We can’t let ourselves become monsters.    William is innocent, so if we’re gonna kill him, we have to do it out of kindness, not hate or fear. Only as a last resort, after all other options are exhausted and he still hasn’t improved.    But we’re not there yet.    He heard me, honey. I know that he did, so we have to give him one more chance before we can say that ending his life would be an act of mercy.”

   Impossibly, hearing the strength in your voice and the quiet but absolute resolve to not let this situation bring you down, managed to give him back some of his hope.    Within your courage, he found a way to believe you, even though his own strength had long since left him. Somehow, you were powerful enough to carry the both of you forwards, refusing to let anything threaten your happily ever after, and he had never loved you more.

<><><><><><><> 

   It would take several weeks of carefully measured steps before William even interacted with you the first time.    You started with offering him fresh clothes and full meals every day, all of which he refused for almost a week, until the hunger finally got the better of him.    The food slowly restored his strength, and with that, his temper returned.

   It was clear that he was still very much suffering the effects of the conditioning and the compulsion to complete his mission of killing you, that much was visible in his eyes every time that he looked at you.    But there was doubt in there too. Something that you suspected came from the man underneath all the suffering and manipulation. The real William Garin.    The problem was getting that man to take back control of himself.

   One positive aspect, and the primary reason why you refused to give up, was that even when you repeatedly put yourself within his reach, he never tried to touch you. And you didn’t think that that was solely because of Pero’s presence in the cell every time that you tried it.    Obviously, your partner was much too worried to let you be in there with your would-be assassin alone, but even so, Will’s focus was only ever on you whenever he did react.

   You tried not to think to closely about what you knew that Pero had done to him, and what you guessed that he might’ve been unable to tell you.    It wasn’t really helpful anyway, and you’d always known him to be capable of terrible things, but the real reason why you stayed away from it, was simply that it scared you to linger on the realization that he could do these things to a man that he loved.

   But you also couldn’t judge him for it.    You couldn’t condemn his actions anymore than you could hold it against him that he’d sent you away, because you had no idea how dangerous his world really was.    That was what all this had finally taught you. That for all the crap that you’d seen and learned in the time that you’d known him, Pero’s world was still too dark for you to ever truly grasp.

   You saw it in Will’s eyes too. The knowledge that he possessed and the power that someone with their training and experience had at their disposal.    And it wasn’t until you recognized that look in his eyes as the same darkness that you’d always seen in your partner, that you began to understand that you’d only seen a fraction of the truth. That Pero had shielded you from his reality from the very beginning.

   Still, there was a silver lining to it all, because the fact that he’d done that meant that his love for you was more powerful than all that. It meant that the light which he’d found in his feelings for you, was strong enough to hold all that darkness at bay.    You chose to focus on that, and only that, since it was likely the only thing that would be strong enough to reach into Will’s heart too.

   And after nearly a month of seemingly fruitless efforts, it finally paid off.    Well… sort of.

   You were sitting in a chair which stood against the furthest wall from where he was chained, the one where the viewing glass was, and you were talking quietly to yourself.    Pero wasn’t there that day, he was taking care of the horses’ hooves, which had enabled you to sneak down there without him knowing.    Something that you did whenever you got the chance.

   Not because there was anything you felt like you needed to hide from him, but just because you suspected that your captive might sooner respond to you if his nemesis wasn’t in the room.    And since your partner refused to leave you alone with him for even a second, this was the only way to cultivate your own relationship with Will.

   “We’re having a girl,” you said quietly, looking down at the little piglet that you were resting on the top of your belly, just because it fit so perfectly there. “Can you imagine Pero with a baby? I kinda struggle to myself, but I know that he’s gonna be good at it. He’s incredibly loving and tender whenever he gets the chance.”

   You casually paused then, giving him the chance to respond if he wanted to.    You kept the topic mainly on Pero, since that was the common ground between you, hoping that he’d eventually feel compelled to either object to something that you said, or just respond out of annoyance.    But he remained silent, so you kept going after a few moments.

   “It’s a bit strange to know that the father of your child is perhaps the deadliest human being on the planet. Especially when I’ve never seen him be evil.    Because that’s the thing that most people assume, isn’t it? That you can’t be a killer and a good person, that they’re mutually exclusive. But even though I’ve seen him at his worst, I still don’t see evil in him, only fear and doubt.    The same things that I see in you.”

   He wasn’t showing any signs of listening to you, so you were about to call it a day before your partner would begin to wonder where you’d gone.

   “You’re a fool…” the man on the floor whispered barely audibly, making your ears prick with interest and surprise.

   “What?” you carefully prompted, hoping that he’d keep going.

   “He will kill you,” he continued after a brief pause. “That’s what we are…”

   “How do you mean?” you prodded, still trying to spur him into carrying on, because no matter what he said, just the fact that he was finally talking was a victory.

   “We are death. Especially to those who care for us.    Mark my words, there will come a moment when you’ll regret ever meeting him, and that will be the moment right before you and your family dies.”

   He said it with a thick layer of acid to his tone, a deep and dark contempt on full display in every syllable, but you saw through the overtly mean façade, straight to the self-hatred that was boiling right beneath the surface.

   “I don’t believe that that’s true, but I can understand why you feel that way,” you said earnestly, knowing that it would provoke him.

   “You understand nothing…” he growled, taking the bait. “You don’t know what he really is… the things that I had to stop him from doing every day while we were in training.    He’s an animal, and he always will be.”

   He was clearly trying to drive a wedge between you and Pero, and you weren’t sure if it was because of his conditioning, continually pushing him to finish his last mission and end your life, one way or another. Or, if it was merely the words of a broken man, trying to make the people around him hurt as much as he did.    But you were sure about the fact that he was dead wrong.

   “If you truly believed that then you never would’ve invited him to meet your family, but I know that you did,” you challenged, not letting him get the upper hand in the dialogue. “I know that you wished for him to come and visit, that you missed him every day and that your family never felt complete without him.”

   He looked at you as though you’d just stabbed him in the kneecap, but he seemed more confused and hurt than angry, and since he didn’t respond, you set about explaining how you knew that.

   “You and I have met before.    I know that you didn’t live here, but you must’ve worked quite close to my neighbourhood because I often saw you at the store on Hillstreet, the one I mostly use for my weekly groceries.    We even spoke a couple of times. You introduced me to Lin Mae and Daisy once, after accidentally bumping into me in the pasta section, and we chatted for a while,” you reminded him, and saw his mind work to try and locate the memory.

   Your few encounters had been brief and no more than what anyone would expect of temporary conversations between strangers, but you were good at reading what people left out of their tales, so you’d known from the start that this man had secrets and demons.    And while you might never have imagined that he’d been an assassin, you’d always been able to see his pain.

   “You never told me anything specific, but I could tell from your behaviour and the gaps in your stories, that something was missing. And when I met Pero and learned about your shared history, I knew right away that he was that missing piece.    I know that you loved him. Despite whatever horrors you went through as boys and young men, he was everything that you had for a long time, and you loved him every bit as much as you loved your wife.    And that’s not a guess, Will. I know that this is true, as surely as I know that I’m alive, so you can stop trying to scare me with your broken mind and conflicted thoughts.    I’m not stupid enough to not be afraid of you, but I’m also not stupid enough to believe the ramblings of someone that doesn’t even know who he is anymore.”

   That made the man before you shrink, even though that seemed to go against his still very weak physique.    He was little more than a shell now, and there was every reason to think that he would never recover, but you still hoped for a miracle.

   “He will always be your brother, William. Despite everything you’ve done to each other, he still loves you.    That’s the only reason why you’re still alive, and while I’m sure that you’d rather not be… I want you to know that there’s a family standing before you right now. Not a big one, but one that’s willing to take you in and care for you, all the same.    Don’t throw it away without giving it a chance.”

   He wouldn’t look at you, and you didn’t need him to. He had heard you, and that was as much as you could ask of him for now.    You got up and picked up the chair to take it with you as you left the room.

   “You’re a fool…” he repeated himself, still quietly but with much more force to the words this time.

   Stopping on the threshold of the cell, you turned back to look at him, and he was meeting your eyes now.

   “…if you think for one second that you will ever be safe around me,” he finished, and you could tell from his expression that he was expecting you to find those words at the very least uncomfortable.

   But you felt only sad.

   “If that’s true, then I pity you,” you replied softly, meeting his hateful glare with nothing but care, which only seemed to further vex him. “No one should go through life so alone.”

   He just kept staring at you, so you left the room and closed the door, feeling positive despite the gloomy atmosphere. Because as bad as the poor man still was, this was progress.    You locked the cell and then left the bunker, starting the slow walk back to the house in your slightly waddling fashion now that the little one was only about a month away.    But as you reached the outdoor fireplace, something made you turn your head to the left, and when you saw what it was, you stopped.

<><><><><><><> 

   Pero heard you long before you came into view among the shrubs, but he didn’t say anything. He knew that you’d notice him, one way or another, and he wasn’t sure of what he could say that wouldn’t sound accusatory or angry.    And sure enough, you looked to the side just as you were about to pass him, and the look in your eyes when you realized that it was him, was all the confirmation that he needed as to what you’d been doing.

   You stopped and turned to face him with slow, measured movements, taking your time to buy yourself a moment to think, which was fine with him, because he really did want to know what the hell you were thinking.

   “I’m sorry…” you started, sounding every bit as apologetic as the words suggested, but it did little to soothe him. “I thought that he might open up to me better if you weren’t there.”

   That did sound like the sort of reasoning that you would have, but even so, it was not good enough to justify putting yourself and your baby in that kind of danger.

   “I know that you don’t agree,” you tried to appease him, “but it worked. He talked to me, honey.”

   As surprising and positive as that was to hear, it still wasn’t a good enough reason. Nothing was.

   “Try this again, and I will change the locks so that you can never go down there again,” he warned, surprising himself with how hard he sounded.

   “Pero… I’m the only one that’s gotten through to him. If we’re gonna have any hope of saving his life then you have to let me build a relationship with him,” you reasoned, and while he knew that you were entirely correct, it made no difference at all.

   He stood up and stepped closer to you, reaching out to take your hand as soon as he was close enough, and then put his other hand on the side of your belly.    Then he looked into your eyes and tried to convey every thought and every feeling that he was having in that moment, but couldn’t articulate for the life of him.

   “I. Don’t. Care.”

   A shiver passed through you at that, as you felt everything that he was cramming into those three little words and realized what he was saying.

   Nothing matters more than you. More than her. More than us.

   Nothing.

   But you weren’t one to be controlled. If he knew one thing about you, it was that he would never be able to expect you to just do as he said, no matter how fervently he insisted. If you had been so inclined, he wouldn’t have had to send you off to a fucking island in the middle of the pacific with no means of getting yourself back.    He loved that side of you as much as he dreaded it, because it made you strong but also unpredictable.

   “He still loves you,” you countered, still unwilling to just leave things be and focus on taking care of yourself for now, and he sighed at your endless defiance.

   “I love you, pintora, and that is a fulltime job these days, so forgive me for not having the energy to care all that much about the man that still wants to kill you.”

   “But that’s my point, Pero,” you persisted, even as he began to drag you back towards the house. “You both still care about each other, and I’m the unifier between you. I’m the one that can reach you both and reunite you.”

   “And my point is that even if that’s true, this is not the time for any reunion. We have our own lives to tend to.”

   “So we just leave him down there by himself while we go off and build a family without him? No… I’m not gonna do that, honey.”

   “Are you not even a little bit worried about what he can do to you? To all of us?” he challenged, truly fearing that you weren’t seeing the reality of your circumstances right then.

   “Of course I am, I’m not stupid. But I’m also not cold or uncaring, and you can stop pretending that you are too, because I know you. Deep down, you miss him more than you’ve ever missed anything.”

   He didn’t have a response to that, because it was damned well true, but it was also not what he wanted to think or talk about for the foreseeable future.

   “Can we just pretend to be a normal couple for a minute and talk about nurseries and baby stuff, not killers and brainwashing?” he pleaded, to which you rolled your eyes but then conceded with a gentle nod.

-=¤=-

   Later that day, you went upstairs to take a bath while Pero helped Dean clear the table and clean dinner away. And much like every time that he and your father had been alone lately, the subject inevitably turned to the unfortunate captive out in the woods.

   “You do realize that you can’t keep him down there indefinitely, right? As safe as it might feel for now, sooner or later you’re gonna have to deal with him,” Dean prompted, making Pero scoff.

   “Oh, your daughter is already on top of that.”

   “Meaning?”

   “Meaning that she spent the hour that I was in the stables with you today, alone down there with him. And if I know her, she was in the cell with him the whole time,” Pero explained, and just saying those words put a sour taste in the back of his throat.

   “Shit…” the older man breathed, obviously equally unhappy with this development. “That’s not good. If she feels like she’s making progress then neither of us are gonna be able to keep her out of there.”

   “I have already warned her that I will change the locks if I must.”

   “Yeah, like that’s gonna stop her…” your father sighed, shaking his head in what seemed like defeat, even though the battle for your safety had only just begun.

   “Dean…” Pero almost whispered now, as real fear constricted his chest. “I’m really scared that she’s gonna make a mistake. That he’s gonna delude her into trusting him and get her to lower her guard.    He was always the best of us at infiltration and manipulation and that’s not a skill that Lang would’ve stripped him of.”

   “No. But you’re not giving Bee enough credit here,” the older man reminded him with a sharp brow. “She’s smart, and tremendously good at reading people, especially when it comes to what they themselves don’t realize that they’re after.    She won’t be fooled, son. Even by someone like William.”

   “I hope you’re right. Because if he lays a finger on her… I will douse him in acid and leave him there to die slowly.”

   “If it comes to that, I’ll help you. But let’s not start digging graves just yet.    I still have the utmost faith in my daughter, and I truly do believe that if anyone can reach William, it’ll be her.    She managed to tame you, after all,” your dad finished with a wink, making the younger man smile despite his worries.

   Dean’s solidness and calm reasoning was soothing to Pero, particularly when it came to his fears and worries about you, so the conversation left him feeling better.    There was something about knowing that those same characteristics existed in you as well, that made him feel like everything would somehow be okay. And he needed that feeling more than usual on that day.

   He stepped up to the older man while opening his arms in a silent request for a hug, which was warmly received, and when Dean’s long, muscular arms wrapped around his back and held him close, Pero felt safer than he had in a very long time.

   “You are the best father anyone could ask for. Thank you,” he mumbled into the man’s shoulder.

   “And I couldn’t have hoped for a better partner for my treasured only daughter, so thank you right back, my beloved boy.”

===============

Link to Part 25

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @anditsmywholeheart

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Accurate.

Part 23 - William

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

It's time for Pero to tell you his side of the five months that you've been apart.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 4983 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

<><><><><><><><><><>

   “I have something for you,” Pero said as he walked into the living room and sat down on the couch.

   You were lying on your side to rest after having eaten way too much that morning, and he lowered himself down on the edge of the cushion in front of your legs, rather than by your head or feet.

   “I hope it isn’t more food, because I’m still congested,” you smiled in return, and he mirrored you.

   Then, out of seemingly nowhere, he suddenly had the cutest little stuffed piggy that you’d ever seen, in his hands.    It was bright pink and perfectly rotund, with an over dimensioned head and tiny little floppy ears, short stocky legs and the smallest corkscrew of a tail.    He held it out to you and you gently took it, as though it was the most precious thing ever, and you didn’t care that you were being silly, you loved it!

   “Oh… it’s so cute! Thank you!” you cooed, holding it to your chest and smelling the top of its head, while Pero grinned proudly at you.

   “You’re welcome, mi amor,” he hummed, but then something sad snuck into the corners of his eyes and the set of his jaw, and you immediately knew that this wasn’t just a moment of sweetness.

   This was him building up to something. And whatever it was, it was bad enough that he needed you to be in your very best state of mind before he brought it up.    He’d sat beside you at breakfast and encouraged you to try some of the goodies from Claire after you’d finished your sandwich, making sure you were full and happy when you’d moved over here to rest.

   But it was only now you realized that he hadn’t taken a bite of anything himself.    You hadn’t noticed a hint of nervousness or trepidation in him, though, so this had to be something serious enough that he’d felt compelled to completely shut it out while he’d reconnected with you.    Which meant that it was bad.

   Your smile faded, and you sat up clutching the toy to your chest, suddenly grateful to have it for the comfort that it was already giving you. No doubt also a part of his strategy.

   “Tell me,” you said, and your voice was small and full of worry.

   He didn’t like that, but you supposed that he didn’t like any of whatever it was that he was about to uncover any better.

   “We should take a walk,” he suggested, rising to his feet and then offering a hand to help you up.

   That confused you a bit, but you didn’t argue. Movement was good for thinking, so if that was what he needed to get this off his chest, then you’d walk with him for as long as it took.    The air was warm and the breeze perfectly cooling. In another hour or so, the sun would be at its peak for the day and the temperature would rise another few degrees, so you hoped that the wind would continue to caress your skin.

   Pero had his hands in his front pockets, as if he was afraid to touch you, afraid that he could somehow hurt you just by being in contact with you.    He loved nothing more than getting you touch you, so if he was purposefully avoiding that, then he had good reason, which was why you didn’t ask for his hand.    You just kept hugging the piglet, and occasionally petting Groot’s head as he was still glued to your side, while quietly waiting for your partner to start talking.

   It took him nearly twenty minutes of aimless trudging until he eventually found his starting point, though, and there was a tension in the air the entire time.

   “After I… sent you away,” he began, glancing at you to make sure that you were okay with his choice of words, “I ended up in a standoff with William. I had knives and the dogs, he had guns and Molotov cocktails, so he got away.    It took three days before he came at me again, and that was when he managed to shoot me. But I still almost caught him, so he kept his distance for a bit after that.”

   You shivered at the imagery of your beloved man, badly wounded and still fighting, refusing to let an opportunity pass him by just because he was in pain.    It wasn’t an imagery that you enjoyed, and part of you wanted to scold him for being so reckless, but you decided not to interrupt him. He was alive and well, and that was the most important thing, after all.

   “A week passed before we clashed again, and this time, he was only able to escape because he managed to critically injure the Doberman and lightly wound the Rottweiler,” he continued, shaking his head slightly. “I was not about to let one of Dean’s dogs die, so I retreated and took them to the vet.    Which is also why, after two weeks of laying low, I left all the dogs here and went out into the woods unarmed and completely exposed.”

   Hearing that made you stop and glare disbelievingly at him, because surely, he couldn’t have been that stupid.    Groot felt your sudden shift in emotion and pressed himself against your leg to help you stay calm, which you appreciated, since you were about ready to start barking yourself.    But the look that your partner gave you in return was apologetic, which was a confirmation that he knew damned well how idiotic that strategy had been.

   “I had to bait him. My only advantage was that I knew he would come for me, so I used that against him, and relied on my instincts and training to protect me, and it did work,” he explained, but you still shook your head in disbelief as you resumed your slow trudge around the property.

   “Suddenly I have no problem understanding why you shipped me off, because I would’ve never let you do that if I’d been here,” you chided, and he accepted that, nodding once to let you know that he wouldn’t dispute it, and then kept going.

   “Leaving myself vulnerable made him overconfident, a trap his former self never would’ve fallen into, and I managed to disarm him.    Not before he had already cut my arm open, but I was not particularly concerned about that in the moment,” he said with a casual shrug at that last part, as though it didn’t even occur to him that it might be absolutely terrifying to hear.

   “Just another fucking Tuesday to you, I imagine…” you sourly grumbled, and from the corner of your eye, you saw him turn his head to look at you, so you met his gaze.

   He was clearly about to retort, but then seemed to realize that that wouldn’t go over too well, so he bit his lips together instead, taking a moment to rid his head of whatever those thoughts had been.    When he spoke again, he was calm, but there was an undertone of something frightened in his voice, which you didn’t like. You would have preferred him argumentative rather than fearful.

   “Not quite. It took everything I had to bring him down,” he admitted. “And even after I had defeated him, he still wouldn’t stop trying to kill me. Which is what told me that I might never be able to break him.”

   “How so?” you asked when he’d been quiet for a little too long after saying that, and your question seemed to pull him back from somewhere far away.

   “We were trained for the possibility of capture, taught to conserve our strength, rest while learning as much as we could about our enemy, strategize and look for opportunities. Never to waste energy unless we had a viable chance to escape or kill our captors.    But William was acting on pure rage. There was very little strategy left in him.”

   He fell silent again after that, and a sadness seemed to bear down on his shoulders.    You didn’t miss his use of the past tense in those last sentences, and that made your own shoulders slump.    Because this all felt like a confession, and there was really only one reason you could see for why he would feel compelled to unburden himself like that.

   “I took him to one of your father’s bunkers,” he finally continued, but then he paused again and swallowed hard a few times.

   “You don’t have to tell me, love,” you offered when he seemed to struggle to pick up the thread again at all. “But I will listen if you need to say it, and I won’t hate you. No matter how bad it is, I won’t think any less of you.”

   That made him stop walking and sigh heavily, before pulling one hand out of his pocket and reaching for yours.    His grip was firm, and his hand was cold, which told you that he was afraid. But exactly what that fear was, you still couldn’t discern.    There was something so fragile about him right then, but it didn’t feel like grief or shame to you. It was much more complicated than that.

   “To make someone as cold as he was… it takes months, perhaps even years of psychological torture and conditioning,” he murmured, as if saying these things out loud somehow made them worse. “They would have used his family against him, breaking him down until he could no longer feel anything but anger, hate and fear, and all if it primarily directed at himself.    Then they would have put him to work, training him to take those feelings out on anyone they targeted, forcing him to use his self-hatred as a weapon.    But that was also how I was able to defeat him, relatively easily.”

   “I don’t know that I’d call anything of what we’ve been through lately ‘easy’. But what exactly do you mean by that?” you prompted, since he seemed to need a little push now and then, to keep going, and you felt certain that he had to get all of this out.

   “Those feelings are what make us weak,” he explained as he started walking again, pulling you along since he now refused to let go of your hand. “You can’t focus as well when you’re angry, your mind won’t let you think clearly. He kept charging me without any larger plan, just like I did with Pete when he had you.    So, all I had to do was wait for him to make a mistake at the right time, and it was over.    Not that it wasn’t still one hell of a fight. Anger might dull your senses, but it also makes you stronger physically.”

   “Yeah, I noticed that when you were the one captured too. Although it was mostly fear for me,” you offered, and he squeezed your hand in reassurance.

   “Fear is an even more merciless coach than anger. It sits deeper within our instincts and drives us harder than anything else.    Your fear kept you alive, pintora. William’s anger kept him prisoner,” he elaborated, and you squeezed his hand back, hoping it was as reassuring a gesture to him as it had been to you.

   “What happened? Once you’d caught him?” you continued, and Pero’s face turned grim and hard.

   “The only way to undo a conditioning as severe as his, is to either help them heal, or break that person down again, and then put them back together.    But when someone is already that badly broken, there isn’t much left to break. Still, I had to try, because even if he still recognized and remembered me, his emotional connection to me was gone, so the only thing that was going to reach him was his family… and I obviously could not offer him that.”

   “So, you hurt him…” you suggested, and he hesitated before nodding, and there was both guilt and shame within the movement.

   He had already told you that he’d tortured the man, so you knew that whatever he said next was gonna be bad, and therefor did your best to fortify yourself against it.

   “I… tried to keep it mostly to his mind, but I had to go at him physically as well,” he confessed, and you could tell that this was the part that he most dreaded telling you about. Still, he didn’t falter.    He was determined to unburden himself. “I beat and burned him… starved him… kept him awake for days… cut him and then let rats and mice lose in the cell.    I did worse things too, but I cannot say them to you. Please, don’t ask me to.”

   You just nodded, unable to speak anymore. Because as hard as this was to hear, it was so much harder to even imagine how painful it must’ve been for Pero to do these things.    William had been his whole world for most of his life. The fact that he’d even been able to do these things to him was testament to just how much he’d loved the man.    Because only love could’ve driven him to commit such atrocities in his desperation to get his brother back.

   “None of it worked, just as I’d feared,” he continued after a little break. “So I had to try the only thing I had left… which was you.”

   That surprised you to hear, and you stopped moving to look at him. He stopped as well, when he felt the tug of your hand in his, and turned to face you.    Seeing your puzzled expression made him sigh before stepping closer and putting his hands on your upper arms, but it seemed more like he was looking to steady himself, than that he was offering you support.

   “My hope was that Will might recall his love for Lin Mae by seeing my love for you. And for one second, I thought that maybe it had worked, after I mentioned our baby,” he paused involuntarily then, to force air back into his lungs. “But if any memories did surface… if it did make him feel anything… he shut it down just as quickly as it had appeared.    And in that moment… I gave up.”

   He bowed his head then, staring at the ground with a snivel in his throat as his hands slowly slipped down your arms until they were just barely keeping hold of your fingers, and you just waited.    Waited to hear him say those words which meant that it was over.    The story, and the tragic life of William Garin.

   “I ran into the woods and I couldn’t stop myself for a long time. Not until my legs stopped working and just wouldn’t carry me any further. And then I fell to the ground and stayed there, unable to bring myself to get up and go back, just to end it all.    But I also couldn’t just leave him there to die slowly in agony.    So, somehow, I got to my feet. And I made my way back.”

   He sounded almost hollow at this point, and you were fighting tears now yourself, because you knew that he was trying not to fall apart. That the pain in his body was probably more than anything you could even fathom, and there was nothing you could do to help him.    The unfailingly kind canine beside you evidently noticed that too, but decided to try anyway, shifting to sit beside Pero and rest the length of his side against the man’s leg.

   He tried to let the dog soothe him, but despite Groot’s gentle manners and valiant efforts, the man remained shattered, perhaps more so than anyone could ever understand.    The hand in yours started trembling even as he closed his eyes in a feeble attempt to lock some of the hurt away, and you could hear every bit of the effort that it took for him to just breathe.

   “Walking down there… I was broken in a way that I did not know people can break.    I was in so much pain, and yet, so clear about what I was doing and why I had to. And even that clarity was adding to my hatred of myself, because why would I be so sure about taking this man’s life? This good man…    Why would I not question it more?” he berated himself, slowly moving his head back and forth in either disbelief or disgust.

   You were openly crying by then, trying to keep your snivels silent so that you wouldn’t disturb him, but the tears were falling in streams down your cheeks.    All because his pain was so tangible. In the same way that he could fill a room with his positive or negative energy, he was filling the air around him with pain, to such a degree that your skin was burning despite the breeze, and your heart pounding against the torrent.

   “…I stepped inside and walked into his cell, and there was no question within me of what needed to be done,” he continued, opening his eyes again as the memories became too vivid behind his lids. “Will was on his knees on the floor in the middle of the room, knowing what was coming, and not a word of protest spilled from him.    He could see in my eyes what I was about to do, and he didn’t question it either. He just kept glaring at me, still with nothing but rage in his being.”

   Suddenly, he let go of you and took a few steps to his left, before he bent forwards and reached towards the ground, and for a moment you thought that he was falling over. But then you saw the key in his hand and the hidden handle among the weeds.    He turned the key, yanked on the handle and a hatch opened, revealing a staircase, and you instantly knew that this was that bunker.

   There would be no purpose for him to bring you to any of the others. And this was clearly the explanation behind why he’d suggested a walk in the first place, because for whatever reason, he needed you to see this.    This was where it had happened. Where he’d been forever changed, and he needed you to understand it so that you would always understand him.    It made sense, but it was also deeply unnerving.

   Without preamble, he stepped down and you followed right behind him, making sure that Groot had gotten in before you pulled the door closed.    There was an earthy smell, but it was dry and cool down there, and you wondered for a second how many other bunkers you didn’t know about, and what they might contain.    But that was irrelevant for the moment.

   You could picture Pero pacing in front of the three cells, wrestling with every decision, screaming and hurling abuse at himself for the things that he was doing. Forcing himself to watch, because you just knew that he would’ve done that.    That he wouldn’t have allowed himself to close his eyes against his own monster, no matter how much it scared him.

   He stopped in front of the middle cell, the one straight ahead from the observation area, looking through the one-way mirror but seeing only the past.    You kept to the side, some six feet away, just in case something triggered an outburst in him. Not because you thought that he might hurt you, but simply because you wanted him to have the space to move if he needed to.

   “I stood there, right before him, just staring at him for a long time,” he said, nodding towards the floor inside the cell that you couldn’t see from where you stood, and his voice had dropped into a quiet, tortured whisper now that he was surrounded by the same walls. “Waiting… for some sign of hope… the smallest hint that I didn’t have to do it.”

   His face was covered in tears now, and his voice was strained and forced, his eyes locked on the place where it had all happened, and you suddenly had to quell the urge to step up to him and put your hands over his eyes. Just so that he might not have to see it anymore.    But those images would forever live inside his mind, there was nothing your hands could do about that, so you refrained.

   “He was still a good man… I knew that he was, and he shouldn’t have to die,” he almost whimpered with the force of the grief that was overpowering him. “……I shouldn’t have to kill him.”

   “Pero…” you whispered, wanting to convey some manner of comfort to him, but nothing more came out.

   He heard you, though, and reached for you, staggering closer until he could put his arms around your shoulders and hug you close.

   “You must understand, mi amor…” he fully sobbed against your neck, with harsh shudders coursing through him every few seconds. “You must not think me weak… I had no other choice…!”

   “I know that, love. Of course, I do. I’m just so sorry that you had to do it,” you tried to soothe, but he started shaking his head then.

   “No, that’s not what I mean.    I need you to forgive me, Bee… for the danger that I’m still putting you in… please!” he cried, and his arms tightened around you as dread coursed through him, adding to the pain.

   “What do you mean?” you asked, practically begging him to explain so that you could go ahead and forgive him, because it made no sense to you.

   What could there possibly be left to forgive?

   But instead of answering, he backed closer to the cell without turning around, pulling you along until you were right next to the mirror and could see inside.    And there, huddled against the right wall with a thick chain locked around his waist, was William. Seemingly asleep but very much alive.    You sucked in a sharp breath and forcibly pulled away from Pero to get away from the glass, irrationally terrified that the assassin could get to you if he lifted his gaze and saw you.

   “I don’t understand…?!” you cried, shaking your head with the desperate need to believe that this wasn’t happening.

   You were so distraught that Groot actually took a defensive stance beside you, even though there was no enemy in the room with you.

   But you knew that the man in that cell was still hellbent on killing you, if nothing else than because that had to be why Pero was begging you to forgive him.    He had spared the life of someone who’s only goal left in existence was to complete his final mission, which was to kill you and everyone that mattered to you. And he had done that after discovering that the man was beyond salvation.

   And still, you couldn’t even be angry with him, because he was already torn to pieces and every second that you stood there, refusing to return to his arms, he fell apart a little more.    He looked as though someone had a noose around his neck and a knife to his heart, impossibly torn between the two greatest loves of his life, and the obligation and responsibility that he felt towards both of you.

   “I know, I’m sorry. But I can’t… I can’t… choose between you,” he confessed, right before whatever remained of his armour crumbled, and he buried his face in his hands and seemed to collapse in on himself. “Please… please, don’t… make me choose…”

   You caught him before he fell to the floor, still holding his head as though it might split open if he let go, and the dog instantly shifted focus, doing his best to comfort Pero instead of shielding you, and in that moment you did understand.    Not in your mind, but in your heart. You understood that if it had been Abby in that cell, you would’ve refused too, even if it would’ve meant unspeakable danger, even if it had put everything you cared about at risk.    You could never have made that choice.

   “It’s okay, Pero. We’ll figure it out, it’s alright,” you cooed quietly, and he somehow fell apart even more in your arms. “Stay with me, baby, it’s okay. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

   You said those words and you meant them, but your eyes were on the door to that cell. Because even though William was chained to a wall, and there was a locked security door between you, fear still told you to get out.    Instinct screamed at you to protect your child, but you also couldn’t leave your partner there on the floor alone.

   So, just like Groot at your side, you shielded your loved one, but guarded yourself, knowing in your heart that if it came down to it… if Pero really was incapable of protecting you from this threat… then you might have to do what he couldn’t.    For the simple reason that you were the only person that he couldn’t hate.    He could turn on Dean or Detective Jones if they did it, but he could never turn against you.

   It was the darkest and most sinister thought that had ever existed in your brain, and you wanted to kill it. You wanted the luxury of never having to think like that again.    But this was your reality, and for the first time, you found yourself questioning how you’d gotten here.    You’d reached a point where you were contemplating killing your partner’s brother… How the hell did that happen?

   You were just an artist. Just a simple person with normal problems.    Except right then, you felt like that person was gone. Like you had become something else that was dark and dangerous and terrifying, and you didn’t want to be that thing.    You wanted to be your father’s Bumblebee… you mother’s Beauty… Pero’s pintora.    But most of all, you wanted to be someone that you liked.

   Someone that you could look at in the mirror and recognize and be proud of.    And you realized then, sitting on that floor with your beloved in your arms, that the only way to get back to that person, was to do the opposite of what your darkness was telling you to do.    So, you let go of your Spaniard, stood up and reached for the deadbolt on the cell door.

   Not giving yourself the option to slow down or hesitate, you turned it and stepped through in one fluid movement, and suddenly your enemy was right there. Chained and passive on the floor.    Your heart was pounding so hard against your breastbone that it hurt, and you could hear Pero gasp as it dawned on him where you’d gone, but you didn’t turn back.

   The commotion woke William up, and in the second it took for him to orient himself to what was happening, he was already coming for you.    Every cell in your body screamed for you to move. Dive backwards, flee, fight, claw, bite… anything!    But you refused.

   With burning tears obscuring your vision, you stood your ground, well within his reach, watching as he came at you like a rattlesnake.    Somewhere behind you, your beloved was screaming, too broken and frightened to manage to coordinate himself to get to you in time.    You heard him, even felt the fear in his soul, but you stood your ground, because this had to stop.

   Brother against brother, father against daughter, partner’s on the same side fighting different battles… it had to end.    And it never would so long as someone had to be the darkling. The monster among the stars. Because how was anyone supposed to be able to live with that?    No matter who killed who or why, how was anyone supposed to live on with that guilt?

   “I love you…” you whispered, letting the truth of those words soften your eyes behind the tears, as you looked at the man coming for you with nothing but death in his frame.

   But it really was the truth. You did love him, for everything he’d done for Pero, for the happiness that he’d given his wife and child even in the much too short a time that he’d gotten to have them.    For the proof that he’d given to the world, that it was possible to be a killer and good man, and for showing his little brother that love was the only thing that truly mattered, in the end.

   His hands were only inches from your throat by the time he heard you, his murderous gaze locked on the point that he was aiming for.    But as though your words were laced with a poison specifically tailored to his greatest weakness, he stopped the moment that you said them.    His eyes seemed to involuntarily seek out yours, looking for something that you couldn’t decipher or name, but whatever he did find in your tear-filled orbs, it shook him.

   Standing before you, still with his arms stretched out in attack, he swallowed once and his lower lip trembled, just barely.    Then Pero reached you and pulled you back, just as William too retreated, all but falling against the furthest corner of the room, collapsing into a small pile while his entire body seemed to collapse in on itself.

   As your partner pulled you from the room, you just kept staring at that little bundle in the corner, and your heart somehow pounded even harder, because you knew then that no one had said those words to him since Lin Mae.    You understood that he hadn’t heard your voice at all… he had heard hers.    That was his poison.    Which meant that now, you had to find the cure.

===============

Link to Part 24

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @anditsmywholeheart

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Haha, I'm glad to hear it! 😆

Part 22 - A Reprieve

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Finally able to go back home, you and Pero have to navigate your way past the strong emotions that you're both plagued by, each for your own reasons, to find your way back to love and understanding. (Dual perspectives)

Author's note: @bilibiche I swear I wrote the title before getting your message!

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY!

Word Count: 7265 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 23

<><><><><><><><><><>

   “Bee, wake up, sweetie,” you heard your father’s voice gently urge as you slowly came around.

   You’d cried yourself to sleep yet again, and your dreams had been horrible and woken you often, so you were exhausted.    While you’d been trapped in lethargy, you hadn’t slept well or much at all, but at least you hadn’t dreamed, or been emotionally affected by anything.    Contrarily, this constant heartache was wearing you down much faster.

   But as you opened your eyes and looked at Dean, he was smiling.

   “It’s time to go, kiddo. Pero sent the signal this morning,” he explained, and for a moment, you were certain that you were hallucinating.

   “Are you-… Dad, if this is some cruel joke…” you grumbled, having already almost convinced yourself that if not a hallucination, then it had to be a dream.

   “No, I promise you, this is happening.    Abby and I have already packed everything, so you’d get to sleep longer, but as soon as you get up, we’re going home.”

   Home.    That word woke you up for real because you’d almost forgotten what home looked like. How it smelled in the mornings and creaked when it settled in the evenings, how soft your bed was and how much you loved hearing Pero’s soft little snores.    You sat up and stared at your father’s softly gleaming eyes.

   “He’s okay?” you asked, barely even getting the two little words out, because suddenly you were overwhelmed with the idea that you might get to see him that same day.

   “Yes, he is. Come on, let’s go see him,” Dean smiled, offering a hand to help you up.

   As always, Groot was right by your side, and quickly moved out of the way when you started clambering to your feet, but then instantly fell in beside your left leg again.    You were so disoriented by your own disbelief that you almost forgot to do your morning toilet before getting on the chopper, where Abby was waiting with a big smile on her face and a bowl of oatmeal that she handed to you once you’d strapped yourself in.

   They’d even torn down the tent while you were sleeping, so all that was left to pick up was your sleeping bag, and then your dad closed the side door of the craft and climbed into the cockpit.    It was still so early that the sky was mostly dark, only just starting to shift into a lighter blue to the east, so the signal must’ve come through in the middle of the night, which worried you.

   Because what could’ve happened in the small hours of the morning that would’ve suddenly made everything safe again?    Obviously, Pero had to be alive to send the signal, but if he’d been forced to kill William then there was no telling what you’d be coming home to.    Still, just the thought of seeing him again was making your heart race.

   The flight back somehow seemed twice as long, and even though the sunrise was beautiful and helped you to stay calm, every minute that brought you closer to your other half, made you that much more nervous.    Until finally, your father’s ranch came into view beneath you as he flew over it, and you could see that the horses were fine and everything looked just the same.

   It made a ton of tension slip away from you, which made you realize that you’d unknowingly been expecting a warzone, much like what Pero had done in the next town over.    But there was no sign of the man himself anywhere around the buildings, so when Dean landed in one of his own grass fields, a few hundred yards from the house, you were still terribly uneasy.

<><><><><><><> 

   He waited crouched under a large tree for the helicopter to land. The dual rotors created such a powerful wind that standing out in the open, even at a good distance, would’ve knocked him over.    But once it was down, your father immediately shut the engines off, so the pressure quickly diminished, and he could start slowly making his way towards it.

   The side door opened before he’d even gotten to it, and Groot dove out of the craft and came at him with a wildly wagging tail, almost knocking him over with his exuberance.    It was impossible not to smile at the happy energy that the animal radiated, despite the weight of the darkness that he carried.    But then he looked up, and his heart stopped.

   Because in the door to the craft, you were standing, watching him with tear-filled eyes and a tremble in your lower lip, and you looked so scared.    The reasons for that could be any of a dozen that he could think of, but as soon as he saw you, none of that mattered anymore.    All that mattered was that you were alive and back home, where he could see and touch you, know that you were alive and unharmed.

   He forgot all about the dog and almost stumbled over him in his sudden hurry to get to you, unable to wait another second to remind himself of the feel of your skin and the reassuring pressure of your body securely trapped between his arms.    He all but lifted you down so that he could hold you close, nuzzling your neck and breathing you in.

   But your response was colder, more distant than he would’ve imagined, and after just a few seconds, he pulled back to meet your eyes.    And only then did he see it.    Five months of fear and uncertainty had not only frayed your nerves, but quite clearly taken a toll on every part of you.

   Your skin was colourless, your nails had cracked, you were too thin, especially for someone who was now over six months pregnant, and your eyes spoke of countless sleepless nights and haunting dreams.    And suddenly his heart was screaming, desperate to make up for all the lost time, but most importantly, to remind you that you weren’t alone. That you never had been, no matter how far apart your circumstances had brought you.

   “Lo siento, mi amor. I’m so sorry…” he pleaded, only just now remembering how many reasons you had to be angry and disappointed with him.

   How betrayed and abandoned you must’ve felt, all this time.    Pero had been struggling with so many battles of his own, in both mind and heart, that there hadn’t been space enough to worry about you too. But now that you were there in front of him, all those other things were no longer important and all he could do, all he could even think about, was how worried he was for you.

   “It’s okay, preciosa. If you are angry, you can yell at me,” he whispered, tentatively meeting your eyes, hoping that he would find strong emotions there, because that would still be better than indifference.

   But all he found was fear. Deep, soul-crushing fear, and it turned his blood cold. Because even though he knew that you weren’t frightened of him, this feeling had to do with your relationship, your future together, there was nothing else it could be.

   “Scream or hit me if you feel like it. Anything you need… Please, tell me what you feel,” he begged, but there was no change in you.

   Even Groot tried to provoke a response in you, nudging the side of your leg like he always did when he wanted to call your attention to something, but you ignored him.    Then Abby appeared at your side and gently pried Pero’s hands from your rigid body.

   “Come on, sweetie, let’s get you inside and make some lunch,” she suggested in an almost maternal way.

   And he got the impression that this was habitual for her. That it was how she’d gotten used to handling you while you’d been away. That this had been your “normal” state.    As she led you off towards the house, Dean came to his side and pulled him into a hug whether he wanted one or not.    But the older man looked grim.

   “What happened?” Pero asked through a stocky throat once your father had let him go, and the man sighed deeply before he answered.

   “Honestly… I think the pain of realizing that we had both deceived her just broke something inside her heart.    She was enraged at first, but once that passed, she kind of… disappeared. She did anything we told her to, but it was like she wasn’t there.    I don’t think that she even remembers the first four months.”

   Pain ripped a hole through Pero’s entire being, hearing that. Because while he and Dean had worked out the specifics of this plan together, it had been your partner’s idea all along.    And it had broken you.

   “What have I done…” he breathed, struggling to accept that he could’ve been so wrong.

   That he could’ve been stupid enough to assume that you’d just soldier on, no matter how hard things got.    His legs suddenly caved under his own weight, and he fell to his hands and knees while fighting a pressure over his chest which was so profound that it blocked everything else out. It was so painful that it became all that he could feel or think about.

   “No, no, no… come on, son,” he heard Dean admonish while two large hands settled on his shoulders and pressed him back, forcing his head up so that he met the man’s eyes. “You don’t get to do this right now, do you understand?    I know that you’ve been to hell and back, I can see that in your eyes, but this is where the real fight is. Right here, right now.”

   He paused then, glaring at his adopted son until he was sure that the younger man heard him, heard the weight of his words, and then he pressed on.

   “She is your fight. Everything you’ve done, everything you’ve ever done in your entire life, was for her. For the life that you will have with her.    She’s locking her heart away to protect you from her pain, because she loves you so much that even the slightest risk that her anger could scare you away, is too much for her to even dare consider.    But that pain will destroy her from within, so you need to crack her open. You need to find those words that you know are gonna wake up her heart and no matter how difficult they might be, or how horrible her reaction is, you have to say them.”

<><><><><><><> 

   Whatever you might’ve imagined that your own reaction would be, the overwhelming fear had caught you completely off guard.    You’d expected anger and disappointment and hurt, but not this absolute fear that you might destroy him. That you were probably the only one that could.    You’d thought that William was the one who held that card, but seeing Pero again, you suddenly knew that you were wrong.

   Because he really was your other half, which meant that his heart was always in your hands, meaning that only you could ever truly break it.    And the one thing that you could never live with, was if you did that.    So, even though he gave you permission to unleash any feeling you had on him, you couldn’t do it. You locked everything down, shut yourself off and disappeared into the relative safety of numbness.

   But it was a false sense of safety, and you knew that, you just couldn’t allow that knowledge to take hold right then.    You let Abby lead you away, and the moment that he was no longer before you, no longer touching you, everything stopped.    The world became unknown to you.

   The warm wind in your face, the soft grass under your shoes, even the familiar scents of your childhood home, were lost to your mind.    She sat you down on a chair in the kitchen and got to work on something edible, and Groot rested his head in your lap, whining quietly at your lack of pets, but you didn’t hear him.    And you didn’t know that any time had passed at all, when he moved away, and it was suddenly Pero that was sitting next to you.

   He was on his knees, taking your hands with trembling fingers, and you worried that you’d somehow already broken him, despite your efforts not to.

   “Bee…” he started, and his voice sent a shiver through you. “Don’t do this. If you think that this somehow helps me, you are completely wrong.    I will suffer your rage a thousand times over, before I will endure another minute of this.”

   You heard him, and you knew what the words meant, but your body didn’t respond. And he didn’t like that.    He looked away for a few beats, and when his gaze returned to meet yours, there was anger and hurt in them, and his tone turned dark and pained.

   “I burned half a city to protect you. I killed over a hundred people… all of their faces forever trapped behind my eyes,” he said, his voice sharp and full of hurt, and then he paused, and something much worse that you couldn’t immediately identify, filled his entire frame. “I… tortured… my own brother…”

   His voice broke completely then, and his head fell forwards, made impossibly heavy by these horrors that plagued his memories.    But still, he kept going.

   “For you. ……For both of you,” he finally croaked, barely able to get the words out, forcing his head up to set his tormented eyes on your belly.

   And seeing that look in his eyes, that parental pain that you’d seen in your father’s eyes whenever you’d gotten hurt as a child, that need to take your child’s pain away from them and carry it yourself, no matter how badly it stung…    That was the blade that cut your defences down.

   All at once, it came flooding back.    From the moment you’d realized that you’d been tricked, to the abuse you’d hurled at your father, to the daunting understanding that you’d lost four months to lethargy, to the hundreds of times since then that you’d had to force yourself not to imagine coming home to finding your partner-…

   “How could you?” you whispered, because that was as much as your voice could carry, already buried under so much emotion that it was buckling.

   But then his gaze lifted to meet yours, and something inside of you flipped.

   “How could you just leave me like that! I didn’t know if you even survived that first day, I didn’t know anything!” you were suddenly screaming and crying louder than any baby ever had, but there was no holding this back, now that it had started. “How was I supposed to just go about my day, like my life wasn’t falling apart! Like I wasn’t terrified every fucking second, that I’d never see you again!    You cut me in half and then expect me to just be okay?!”

   He sat there, listening to every word, taking it without even flinching, but his eyes were drowning.    And that pulled the pain that your anger was trying to mask, up from the depths of your being, pouring it from you as though your veins had been opened and your blood was being drained.

   “It hurts so much!” you cried, unable to even see him through the tears anymore. “You left me…… you left me…”

<><><><><><><> 

   Hearing those words from you, with a whole world of pain somehow encapsulated within every syllable, oddly enough seemed to set him free.    Because while they hurt him, they also cleansed him.    Through your pain and your sorrow, he knew that he had a chance to earn your forgiveness and redeem himself, and that restored his hope.

   But before any of that could happen, he first needed to suffer your emotions. Because you were right.    He had left you. Not alone in the world, but certainly alone in your heart, and there was no place more terrifying than that.

   So, while you crumbled to pieces before him, he swallowed hard, and resigned himself to the understanding that his only job right then, was to absorb your pain and carry it.    To free you from the hurt that he had caused, no matter how hard it might be, or how long it might take.    He would load it all into his soul and carry it for the rest of his life, if need be.

   Because it wasn’t just that he’d sent you away. It was that he’d come into your life at all, bringing all this danger and baggage that had put you in this place to begin with.    There was no escaping it and there never had been, because he could never let you go, so it didn’t matter how this had happened, only that he had to fix it.

   Pulling you down into his lap, he met no resistance. Instead, it was as though you’d turned into a doll, no longer controlled by muscles or tendons, just soft stuffing that moved however it was manipulated to.    He tugged you into his chest, somehow hating that even with that swollen belly, you were still so small that his arms reached around both your back and your tucked up legs at once.

   But as soon as you were cradled into his lap and chest, you seemed to finally allow yourself to break. And the way that you cried, the sheer volume of tears that left you, must’ve meant that your pain was leaving you too. Bit by lightening bit.    It didn’t take long before your hands started searching for him. Tentatively exploring the expanse of his chest, twitching with your continued sobs as you reached up towards his shoulders, his neck, pulling him impossibly closer.

   And once your fingers got to feel the warmth of his skin again, suddenly it was as though you couldn’t get enough.    You started with just repeatedly running your hands over his neck and cheeks and tangling in his hair. But within mere moments, you were tugging at his shirt, demanding more skin, more contact between you.

   Realizing what you were really after, he took a firmer grip around your body and stood up, carrying you over to the stairs and then up to your room. And once you were moving, you seemed satisfied that he’d understood, and you began to calm.    Inside your room, he set you down on your feet, waiting until you’d proven that you could stand on your own before he let go of you to pull the duvet off the bed.

   The sheets hadn’t been changed in five months, so there was dust on top of the covers, but the mattress had been shielded and was clean.    When he turned back to you, you’d already discarded your shirt and was working on your pants, and he finally got to see just how big the little one had gotten.    He stopped you from moving once the trousers were off, so that he could just touch you.

   Just let his fingers gently reacquaint themselves with your skin, tracing the new shapes of you that he hadn’t yet gotten to learn.    Your breasts had swollen too, much too big now to fit into any of the bras that you owned, since you hadn’t had a chance to go maternity shopping while marooned on a pacific island.    They filled his large hands when he cupped them, heavy and full and no doubt tense.

   But your collarbones were like little shelves, your ribs much more pronounced than they should be, even though your ankles were puffy and your hips rounder.    Pulling his own shirt off, he intended to wrap his arms around you and just hold you for a moment, for the simple comfort of doing that, but you stopped him.    Your eyes were trailing his form too, and you weren’t all that pleased with what you saw.

   He hadn’t looked in a mirror in a long time, so he hadn’t noticed his own changes. But looking down on himself now, he could see his own ribs much too clearly, and his hipbones were protruding like little hills next to the valley of his abdomen.    There were scars on him now that you’d never seen before, including a badly sewn up cut on his lower right arm, which had left an ugly, jagged and still discoloured mark. As well as the remnants of a bullet-wound in his left side.

   Fresh tears spilled from your eyes as you tried to absorb the meaning of these new scars, the proof of just how close you’d come to never seeing him alive again, but it was too much to bear.    So, instead you closed your eyes and shook your head, before stepping forwards and grabbing him.

   Your kiss was tender, but also urgent. Filled with need and fear, but comfort and healing as well, the warring sensations making it clear just how much you were both trying to deal with right now.    Your fingers fumbled at the button of his jeans, so he reached down to help you, discarding all of his remaining garments in one sweep, while you shifted your hands to relieve yourself of your own panties instead.

   And then finally… finally you were safe beneath him again.    He hadn’t longed for it, because he hadn’t allowed himself to think about you to the extent that he’d started thinking of you like that. Those images had made it too difficult to focus, so he’d locked you away, safe in his heart but out of his conscious mind.    But feeling your form underneath him, after months of deprivation, it all came back.

   He kept his knees pulled up by your hips, so that he could hold his weight off your abdomen without straining himself, and your legs eagerly wrapped around his hips in return.    Then he dove into your mouth and heated core at the same time, reclaiming you, all of you, as his and only his once more.

<><><><><><><> 

   It was as frantic and animalistic as your first time together had been, with the exception that Pero was even more possessive now, his desire so much deeper than it had been back then, the purpose behind each thrust so much more defined.    As though he was attempting to remind you both that this was where you belonged, and that everything you’d gone through had all been so that you could have this.

   You’d missed him so much that it was impossible to hold the tears back as the sensations flooded and overpowered everything else.    He was everything. Your mind, heart and soul, but also your skin and your muscles, even your bones sang to the sounds that he made.    But if seeing your tears affected him, they probably only strengthened his determination to assert himself as your partner.

   Because for each one that fell, your pleasure only rose.    He wasn’t going to leave any space for doubt within you, all but pounding any trace of it out of your frame, with his strong and purposeful pushes into the bedrock of your being.    And he didn’t relent for a single moment, not even after you’d crumbled to pieces underneath him.

   “Give me everything, pintora,” he whispered, and he wasn’t asking, even though his voice in your ear was sweet and tender.

   He was demanding it.    Not with the intent of dominating or controlling you, but to force you to open your heart to him completely, to not hide away any lingering fears or try to hold on to any deep dark thoughts about abandonment or betrayal.    By using this one most intimate connection with not just your body, but your emotions as well, he was ensuring that no barriers were left standing between you.

   And it couldn’t have been more efficient.    The course of his unyielding treatment of your being sent you through anger and sorrow, confusion and fear, distrust and desperation… until all that was left was understanding.    By then you were so spent and so tired that you had nothing more to give but acceptance, and the appreciation of not being hounded by loneliness anymore.

-=¤=-

   When you woke up, it took you a minute to realize that you were back home in your own room, because it had gone dark. But Pero was right there beside you, breathing deeply although you could tell that he wasn’t asleep.    He didn’t say anything, but you felt like he was waiting for something. And after another minute, you remembered that you still hadn’t said a word to him since coming back.

   “Hi,” you started, turning your head to look at his muted features in the dusk.

   You were on your back and he was on his side next to you, with one arm under your pillow and the other resting over your hips, below the swell of your belly.    He was relaxed and comfortable, and a loving smile spread across his face at the sound of your voice.

   “Welcome home,” he responded, which made you smile too.

   “Good to be back.”

   There were things you needed to ask him, questions you simply couldn’t leave unanswered, but this was not the time to bring any of that up.    This moment was yours, and it needed to be allowed to breathe before it was muted again, which those heavier topics would definitely do to it.

   “I love you,” you offered instead, and he responded by pulling you to your side as well so that he could wrap himself around you.

   You didn’t need for him to say it too, he’d already shown you with his entire being, and he knew that.    He knew that the words wouldn’t say it any clearer, so he just held you, and that was how you spent your first night back together. Awake and silent for most of it, but closer than you’d ever been before.

-=¤=-

   “Wake up, preciosa,” was the first thing you heard, and then opened your eyes to a bedroom that was bathing in sunlight.

   At this time of year, early summer, the sunrises were at about 4.30 am, and they were always very pink.    You opened your eyes to a smiling Spaniard who was tainted by this special light, making him look surreal and ethereal, and even more beautiful.

   “Your tummy is rumbling,” he chuckled, while his large warm hand rubbed soothingly at the body-part in question.

   “That makes total sense, because I’m fucking starving,” you smiled back, but your voice was gravelly and rough, both from sleep and from the previous day’s workout.

   “Then tell me what you’re hungry for and I will go and get it while you finish waking up.    There’s no food in the house, because I lived outside while you were gone, so I will need to go and buy some,” he explained, and you understood why he would’ve chosen to live like that.

   Because firstly, this wasn’t his house, and he would’ve felt odd using it as such when he’d never tried owning his own home before.    And secondly, this was a place where some of the most wonderful things in his life had happened, and he wouldn’t have wanted to corrupt such a place with the terrible mindset that he would’ve been in, all alone and fighting his own brother.

   “Claire’s chicken focaccia,” you told him. “I’ve missed it more than I can even describe.”

   His smile widened and he leaned over you to kiss you, slow and languid.

   “Then you will have it. Rest, mi amor, and I will back before you know it,” he promised, and you didn’t question it, already drifting back to sleep as you felt him leave the bed.

   After everything that had happened, it would take an army to keep him away from you for a single second longer than necessary now.

<><><><><><><> 

   The drive was calming somehow. He hadn’t driven much in the past months, since the Detective had been kind enough to bring him supplies fairly regularly, but now that everything was back in place, the familiar task was soothing to his brain.    It was still too early to head straight for the café, so he turned into the nearest Seven Eleven first, to get some things for everyone else.

   While he was picking out the essentials, milk, bread, butter and so on, he passed by the aisle that was the children’s section and it made him stop.    He turned and walked through it slowly, looking at the rows of diapers and baby food, pacifiers and comfort blankets, before reaching the tiny clothes and then the stuffed animals and toys.

   He’d never really had any toys growing up, but he remembered a teddy bear that was so small it could fit into his palm, even as a child, which he had cherished since it had often been his only source of comfort.    And there was one just like it on the shelf in front of him.

   “You okay, Tovar?” a voice carefully asked from his left, and he was so lost in the memories that it took him a beat to realize that the voice had addressed him.

   He looked to his left to find Cody standing there in uniform, clearly on patrol and just checking in at the store since places that were open all night tended to attract mischief.

   “Uh… yeah,” he answered the young officer, before turning his attention back to the shelves. “I just… well… I think it just really sunk in for the first time.”

   The kid took a few steps closer then, probably emboldened by his apparent confusion, which undoubtedly made him seem less scary than all the other times that the young man had encountered him.

   “So, they’re back, then?” he asked quietly, to which Pero nodded, and the kid continued. “Good, I’m glad to hear that. How far along is she now?”

   “About six months.”

   “Oh, it’s getting close,” Cody mused. “Well, if you want some friendly advice, I’d recommend stocking up on clothes and small towels.    Somehow, babies always need clean clothes, and there’s never a clean towel when you need one, no matter how many you buy.”

   If Pero was confused before, he was now doubly so, because this kid was not old enough to be a dad.    The officer noticed his utterly dumbstruck expression and chuckled.

   “I’ve got three younger siblings, one of which is just two years old,” he shrugged, and the Spaniard relaxed.

   “Hm. Thank you for the advice,” he said, nodding at the kid. “But I think I’ll leave the actual shopping for a day when Bee and I can go together.”

   “Yeah, that’s probably wise.    Well, I better get back to work, but tell her that I’m happy she’s home safe.”

   The younger man turned to leave, but when he’d gotten to the end of the aisle, Pero called to him.

   “Hey, Cody?” he said, and the kid stopped and looked back. “Do you think she would find this… dumb?”

   He was holding up a stuffed animal in the form of a chubby little piglet, about the size of a watermelon. There was no specific reason why he’d chosen that one, other than that it looked cute and wasn’t a bear.    The bears were obviously cute too, but he was suddenly worried about history repeating itself, or something, so he wanted to get something other than a bear.

   “I can guarantee you that she won’t think it’s dumb,” the officer smiled. “In my experience, most moms just wanna know that you care.    So, I’m pretty sure she’ll love it.”

   That made Pero grin, because it mattered to him to get things right with you, and odd as it might be, the kid had managed to set his mind at ease.

   “If there is ever anything you need, Officer, I owe you one,” he told Cody, and watched the boy’s smile fade and turn into genuine shock.

   But the look in the older man’s face told him that this wasn’t about what little assistance he’d offered on that day, but rather about his involvement in everything before, which he had still not breathed a word of to anyone.    The acknowledgement of being in his debt was a sign of respect, and one which the kid accepted with a humility and grace far beyond his years.

-=¤=-

   When Pero eventually left the store, carrying two very full bags of groceries and the piglet under his arm, it was after 7am, meaning the café would now be open, so he headed straight there.    He’d never been there first thing in the morning before, and was surprised at how busy it was at that time.    There was a queue of nine people before him, and all the tables were full.

   But you’d asked for your favourite sandwich, and you were going to get it. So, he sighed and took his place in the line of patiently waiting customers.    Thankfully, it seemed like Claire had help in the mornings, because there were two younger people manning the register and carrying out orders, while the owner herself prepared the food, so the wait wasn’t as long as he’d feared.

   “Good morning, sir. What can we do for you today?” a cheerful young man greeted him from behind the counter when it was his turn to order.

   “One chicken focaccia and a large coffee to go, thank you,” Pero answered, and the boy called the order through a hole in the wall, to Claire, who was toiling away in the kitchen.

   “Wait a minute…!” he heard her exclaim back there, and moments later the swivelling door opened and she stepped out, grinning widely once she spotted him.

   “Bless my tushy, if it isn’t Pero himself!” she almost shouted as she rounded the counter and came to give him a hug.

   He wasn’t aware that his relationship with this woman had reached a hugging stage, and awkwardly patted her back a couple of times until she let him go.

   “Now, are you gonna tell me why I haven’t seen you or my favourite girl in here all damned winter or spring?” she demanded, suddenly turned harsh in her demeanour, which caught him off guard.

   “Uhh… We’ve had some things to deal with. But she will come and see you soon,” he assured her, while the queue behind him was growing restless.

   Claire seemed entirely unbothered by that, though, still focused on interrogating Pero.

   “What things could you possibly have had to deal with for almost half a year?” she questioned, and he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose for a second.

   He didn’t want to drop the bomb on her, because this was your family and you should get to do that.    However, since she was unlikely to drop this unless he gave her some legitimate excuse, and he didn’t know what else he could possibly say without all out lying to her…

   “We are having a baby,” he said, moving his hand from his face to his neck, scratching at it for no reason at all.

   He couldn’t help the proud smirk that followed those words, though. It was the first time that he’d gotten to announce it to anyone other than William, and that hadn’t exactly been a pleasant experience.    But while his brother hadn’t reacted much at all, Claire did the complete opposite.

   She wailed so loud that the entire café flinched, probably thinking that she’d been hurt, before the sound morphed into exuberant laughter, followed by some really quite adorable hopping on the spot.    Some words attempted to free themselves from her mouth but they were entirely unintelligible, until she suddenly stopped dead.

   “OH! Food! She needs food, for heaven’s sake, what the hell am I doing!?” she scolded herself and darted back behind the counter. “Eli, throw some of everything into a bag and give it to him, free of charge, my girl is making a baby!” she added as she ran past the kid at the register, and then disappeared back into the kitchen.

-=¤=-

   Once back at the house, it was well past 8am and he had too much stuff to be able to carry it all inside in one go, so he grabbed the groceries first.    But before he’d even lifted them out of the car, Dean came out to help him.

   “Bee’s in the shower, so no rush,” he said as he came to the trunk, and then stopped when he saw the stuffed animal. “Did you get this for her or the baby?”

   “Ay, I don’t know…” he admitted, feeling silly about it again, looking down on his own shoes as if they could help him feel less uncomfortable.

   “I only ask because Bee’s gonna love this, so you might wanna tell her that it’s for her, either way,” his father hummed, instantly bringing a smile back into his frame.

   “Yeah?”

   “Definitely,” the older man confirmed, and they both chuckled a little.

   But then Dean turned serious again.

   “Are you two okay? I mean, is this a peace-offering?” he asked, picking up the toy and handing it to his son.

   “We’re good,” he answered with conviction, but then added the one thing that he was still worried about. “We have not discussed… what’s happened in between yet. But our relationship is safe, which is the only reason why I am able to smile.”

   The older man decided not to press him concerning what he’d meant by that, and together they brought everything inside.    Abby was in the living room, on the phone, when they walked in, and she was arguing with someone so loudly that it carried over into the kitchen.    All four dogs were in there, listening closely, just in case there was cause for concern.

   So, when she hung up and then came storming into the kitchen, fuming, they all stood up in alert, but she was so riled up that she never even noticed how Dean called for them to stand down.

   “I’m fucking homeless!” she yelled once she was inside the room. “They sold my apartment, just like that! Threw all my stuff out and just welcomed another tenant, even though my payments were automated and I haven’t missed one fucking rent in ten years!    I can’t fucking believe this shit!”

   “It was probably Mrs. Nosy,” Pero offered, which stopped her in her tracks.

   “Who??”

   “The old lady across the hall,” he explained, recalling Kate’s description from the time she’d investigated Abby’s disappearance. “She doesn’t like you and always spies on you, so she probably noticed that you hadn’t been there for months and used that as grounds to have your contract broken.”

   “Wh-… How is my not being there grounds for anything?” she countered.

   “If a tenant stops showing up at their apartment, the owner of the building can be asked to do a welfare check. That means going into the apartment and making sure that no one is lying dead there.    And if, during one of these checks, they come across anything illegal, they can use that as grounds for eviction.”

   “Oh, fuck…” she groaned, causing a magnificently raised eyebrow on Dean, which instantly made her feel obligated to justify herself. “It was just a little self-defence paraphernalia!” she hurriedly tried to brush it off.

   But then Pero paused unpacking the groceries and turned to her while he crossed his arms over his chest.

   “Really? That might work for the pepper-spray, but the unregistered tasers?    And what use would you have of four of them, anyway?”

   “How the hell do you know about that?!” she demanded after a moment of stunned silence, but he just shrugged.

   And before she could press the matter, Groot came down the stairs with a wagging tail, closely followed by you.    The dog never left your side these days, and he wondered if it was because he knew about the baby and wanted to protect it, or if it had something to do with how bad your mental state had been while you’d been away.    You were smiling now, though, easily picking up on the mood of the room.

   “Was that you I heard screaming just now, Abs?” you wondered, and your friend soured even more.

   “Yeah, due to the fact that apparently, I’m now homeless, because of a few little tasers that nobody knew about…” she finished through gritted teeth, glaring at Pero, who smiled crookedly in return.

   “I wasn’t the one who left them on the kitchen table,” he countered, to which she sucked in a breath and prepared to launch some form of abuse at him, but then changed her mind.

   “No. No, you’re right… it’s my own fault,” she sighed unhappily.

   “You know that you’re welcome to stay here as long as you want or need to, sweetie,” Dean offered, and she give him a bleak smile.

   “I know. Thank you. I’m mostly pissed about my stuff, I can’t believe they just dumped everything.”

   “As though any landlord was gonna pay to move your stuff into storage…” you said, walking up to her and nudging her elbow. “Feel free to raid my closet. It’s not like I can fit into any of it anymore.”

   That made Pero remember what he’d gone shopping for in the first place, and he quickly reached for the smaller of the two bags from the café, before sneaking over to you and opening it right behind you.    The smell washed over you with the slight breeze of his movements, and suddenly you whirled around with flared nostrils and without even seeing your partner, snagged the bag and ripped it open in your ravenous search for the deliciousness inside.

   “Wow…” Pero huffed a little laugh at the sight of your passionate response to the treat. “Claire sends her love and congratulations. And a whole bag full of goodies from the café.”

   But you were completely lost in the flavours by then, devouring the sandwich without much delicacy, but with a lot of appreciation.    The others were intrigued by the promised goodies, though, and started rummaging through the other bag to see what was on offer, while the Spaniard just lowered himself onto the chair next to you.

   It was so good to see you so vibrant and energetic again. He needed that. He needed you to help him stay strong for what he had to share with you next.    But not yet.    Not until you’d filled your stomach and rested. Not until he was sure that you were ready, that you could handle the mess that he would once again be reduced to.

   So, he just sat there and smiled, happy that he could see you and touch you again. And since you were safe for the time being, Groot picked that moment to reacquaint himself with your other half.    Suddenly his head came to rest on Pero’s thigh, and he looked down to see those big brown eyes staring up at him expectantly, being so pleased when he got the pets and scratches that he was clearly after.

   Feeling his heart lighten at the canine’s effortless affection, he soon slipped off the chair and sat down on the floor to let the dog have at him, finding himself giggling like a little boy at the animal’s immediate playfulness.    It was freeing and fun and easy, and he tried to soak up as much of that energy as he possibly could.

   He really was gonna need it.

===============

Link to Part 23

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette I'll fix it, I promise!

Part 21 - How to Break a Man

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Both you and Pero are struggling with the forced separation, but while he has a purpose and a goal to work towards, all you have is loneliness and the fear of not knowing what's happening. (Dual perspectives)

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM. But I will say that this is angsty as fuck. You've been warned!

Word Count: 5085 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 22

<><><><><><><><><>

   The flight was longer than you might’ve imagined when you first realized what was happening.    You’d assumed that your father would take you to the first safe place that he knew of, but the relentless drumming of the engines carried on for hour after hour, and with each passing minute that took you further away from your other half, your mind slipped deeper into apathy.

   Abby had eventually dragged you away to the back of the craft and strapped you in, once she’d understood that you weren’t going to move of your own accord, so you were sat next to her, with thick headphones on, allowing you to hear everything that she or Dean said.    But you didn’t listen.    Not until the helicopter started slowing down and dropping altitude did you even register that anything was happening.

   Once he’d landed, your father came back to the cargo bay and unbuckled you, but you didn’t move.

   “Hey, Bumble… we’re here. Let’s step out and get some fresh air, hm,” he tried, but you just stared at the floor beside him.

   He exchanged a look with Abby but you didn’t know what it was or what it meant, because it didn’t matter.    You felt him pull you to your feet and together, the two of them half dragged, half lifted you out of the craft, onto soft grass and the smell of wild flowers.    Even the air was wrong. It was too warm and tasted differently, and this sudden assault on your senses brought you out of the lethargy.

   Standing on your own, you pushed them both aside and took a few unsteady steps forwards, looking around with incredulity, because they had to be fucking kidding.    You were standing on a softly curved hill, surrounded by meadows that became little patches of woods further down to your right, while a good-sized cliff rose to your left.    But everything beyond that… was ocean.

   Turning in a circle revealed that you were on a tiny island, probably somewhere in the Pacific, and suddenly you couldn’t have been less apathetic.    You hurled yourself at Dean, screaming and beating your fists against any part of him that you could reach, unable to stop yourself or even care if you hurt him, because the pain in your heart was too big to bear.

   And he made no effort to stop you.    He stood there and took it, letting you bruise and scratch him until you were so exhausted that your screams became silent, and then turned into sobs, while your arms became so heavy that you couldn’t lift them anymore.    But when he tried to wrap his arms around you, despite your fatigue, you fought him off and staggered away, falling to the ground just a few feet from him, unable to get up again.

   You wanted to ask him why. Why he’d broken your trust, used your love to manipulate and deceive you, and then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, taken you to a fucking island so far from any landmass that you couldn’t even see it, just to be sure that you couldn’t possibly get back on your own.    A prison, for lack of a better word.

   In that moment, for the first time in your life, you experienced hatred. Real and consuming and devastating hatred.    Because you hadn’t been given a choice.    Pero was a part of you, he was half your soul and heart and your own father had ripped you away from him without a second thought.

   And even though, somewhere in the depths of your mind, you knew that if it had been your own child, you would’ve done the same, you just couldn’t forgive this.    The acidic burn of the hatred wouldn’t subside, somehow seeming to grow and burn even hotter the longer you sat there, because the fear within your heart was fuelling it without mercy.

   Feeding it with images of your partner being tortured, maimed, burned alive… Everything that you feared, in the worst possible scenarios, played out inside your mind, and you couldn’t stop it.    Until hopelessness eventually took root and flooded your being, snuffing out the flames, which instead left you in a cold and darkness that didn’t seem to have any end.

<><><><><><><> 

   Pero saw the chopper take off safely, and he could finally breathe normally again, knowing that whatever happened next, William would never find you.    But that also meant that his own work was just about to begin.    He slammed on the breaks just in time to not crash into his former partner’s jeep, and then sat behind the wheel for a moment, staring at the man, who stared right back.

   Then the gun in his hand was suddenly aimed at Pero, and he ducked without even thinking about it, narrowly escaping the first bullet.    Quickly opening the door, he slipped out and threw a larger pebble at the man’s head, forcing him to deflect it, which momentarily paused his shooting, giving the Spaniard a chance to advance.

   Not wasting a single millisecond, he darted around the back of the jeep and just as he rounded the far side of it, he hit the release button for all four latches to the cages on Dean’s truck, located on the key-fob.    The dogs immediately slipped out and silently disappeared into the terrain, but William had learned his lesson.

   He might’ve underestimated Groot’s training on their first encounter, but he was not one to ever repeat his mistakes.    Instead of reloading or making for the relative safety of the jeep, he instead turned and headed straight into the hangar, where the floor was still open and there were plenty of dark corners to hide in.

   That wouldn’t save him from the canines, since they’d still be able to both hear and smell him, but it gave him the advantage of being able to see them coming.    And if he put himself in a corner where his back was protected, all he had to do was shoot each of them as they tried to charge him.    With that in mind, Pero ordered them to stop, using hand signals, and all four of them instantly changed direction, returning to his sides.

   He didn’t know if there was any other way out of the sublevel, but he would think that your father had made sure that he couldn’t be trapped down there if something should happen, so he assumed that there was.    Which was why he didn’t follow his quarry down there, but instead retreated, leaving the Belgian Malinois to stand guard.

   The other three canines remained with him as he backed away into some shielding shrubs about fifty yards from the vehicles, and once in position, he sat down and waited.    It wasn’t even noon yet, so there was plenty of daylight left, which meant that he’d be able to see anything that moved around the hangar, and the Belgian would alert him if anything happened within the blind spot that the building created for him.

   William knew this tactic just as well as Pero, so the only question was who would lose their patience first.    Or, so he thought.    But as it turned out, Will had no intention of sitting around playing any waiting game, and instead sprung to action only minutes after his enemy had retreated.

   He must’ve found gasoline or something down there, because suddenly, Molotov cocktails were being flung into the air, landing all around the sublevel.    And while the shallow layer of snow prevented the ground from catching fire, there were shrubs, young trees and all sorts of large weeds and other plants growing in abundance all over the area, and those did catch fire quite easily.

   They wouldn’t burn for very long, though, so Will would have to make his move quickly, which was why Pero too sprung into action as soon as he realized what his old partner was up to.    He called the Belgian back to protect it from the spray of accelerant as the bottles broke against the ground, and then he got up and advanced, keeping the canines close.

   Unfortunately, his quarry had always been excellent at throwing accuracy, and before he could make any progress, Will had created a barrier of fire between them, giving him a head start that Pero wouldn’t be able to catch up before the man had vanished.    So, for now, he aborted.    There was no reason to waste energy on a hunt regardless of the chances of success, when he knew that the man would come to him anyway.

   That was the primary benefit to sending you and your family away, turning himself into the sole target.    But as he retreated to the truck to save it from the flames and give the dogs a chance to rest, he thought about how angry and distraught you must be, especially since no one knew how long you’d be separated.

   He just hoped that your heart hadn’t broken too badly for him to be able to put it back together, once this was over.

<><><><><><><> 

   You didn’t notice time passing at first. The sun rose and fell but your mind remained unresponsive.    Abby put food in your hands now and then, and you ate it without protest. She tucked you into bed sometimes and you slept for what seemed like very brief moments. But there was no sense that time actually moved.

   Groot was always beside you, never giving up his attempts to get pets or scritches, but you indulged him on autopilot. There was no warmth to it, because there was no warmth left in your heart.    You existed. That was now the extent of what you could endure.

   At some point, Abby suggested taking you for a bath in the Pacific, and when you didn’t argue, she simply led you to the beach, stripped off your clothes and brought you into the warm water.    Using a towel, she gently scrubbed your skin, and then washed your hair with soap and you were aware that it should be relaxing and refreshing, but you felt nothing.

   That day, after she’d tucked you into bed in the large tent that you all shared, you overheard a whispered conversation between her and your father, sitting by the fire outside.

   “She’s not getting any better, Dean. Are you sure we shouldn’t go back?”

   “Not until I get some indication that it’s safe.”

   There was a pause, then Abby spoke even lower.

   “She could lose the baby if this keeps up… It’s not enough that she eats and drinks regularly. If she remains trapped in this apathy, her body could reject the pregnancy in order to protect itself.”

   “I know,” Dean sighed unhappily. “But even if we went back, she couldn’t see him or go anywhere near him yet. Not until it’s safe.    Here or there makes no difference, except that here, she’s completely safe.”

   “From everyone but herself…” Abs added, and the conversation died out.

-=¤=-

   Life carried on like that for a time and you still had no idea how much time that was.    That is, until something happened that even your dying heart couldn’t ignore.

   She’d taken you for a walk around the island, holding your hand to carefully pull you along, since you ground to a stop unless something forced you to keep moving.    This was something she did regularly, just like the baths, but you still didn’t know how often that was, and you didn’t much care.    But that day, trudging around aimlessly, you discovered that someone else did care.

   Because suddenly there was a nudge. Inside of you.

   You didn’t just stop, you planted your feet against Abby’s attempts to get you going again, prompting her to stop and turn back to look at you.    Whatever she saw in your face made her drop your hand, and you immediately shifted both your hands to gently place them on your little bump.    Except it wasn’t as little as you remembered anymore.

   Confusion gradually broke through your lethargic mindset, and you looked down at yourself to discover a distinct bulge just below your waist.    And slowly, parts of your brain started waking up, realizing that this wasn’t right.    You were only like, six or seven weeks pregnant, you shouldn’t be able to feel anything, much less have changed this much.

   “A-Abby…?” you croaked, feeling hot tears gather in your eyes while you fought the understanding that was trying to take root inside your head.

   She stepped closer and put her hands on your upper arms, and you knew that it was to steady you, because of what she was about to confirm.    You shook your head in denial before she’d even opened her mouth, but there was no escaping the truth.

   “It’s-… It’s been four months, Bee.”

   Your heart came alive with the force of lightning, jolting through every nerve and drop of blood, leaving everything burning in its wake.    And abruptly, every emotion you were capable of feeling was screaming as every part of you woke up at once, refusing to stay silent anymore.    You ran back to the tent, somehow finding your way even though you hadn’t consciously registered the route, finding your father in the midst of preparing a meal.

   “Take me back!” you screamed before you’d even entered the camp, and he looked up, just as stunned as Abby to see that you’d broken out of the unresponsiveness.

   “Bumblebee…” he breathed in minor shock.

   “Don’t call me that, I’m not a fucking bug!” you spat, the memory of his betrayal surfacing with a vengeance, making it hard to even hear his voice. “You don’t get to keep me in a glass jar, take me home, now!”

   “I can’t do that, sweetheart. Not yet,” he calmly countered, and you had to stop yourself from charging at him.

   “There’s a giant helicopter right there!” you gestured towards the craft that stood just thirty yards away. “You can do that, you’re just choosing not to.”

   “Yes, I am!” he agreed, for the first time that you could recall, raising his voice at you, which made you flinch and somehow shrink. “I’m not gonna fly you right back into the crosshairs of the most dangerous conflict on the whole damned planet right now.    And I should very much hope that you’re not stupid enough to put your own child in that kind of danger, either.”

   That was as painful to hear as if he’d slapped you, and at first, you wanted to hurt him back. But that wouldn’t help anything.    And as the seconds ticked by while you looked for some way of convincing him, your pain morphed into fear, dread, and the absolutely paralyzing clutches of hopelessness.    But behind all that, the real cause of your reaction, the true purpose behind your desperation, was revealing itself.

   “I don’t want to do this without him…” you suddenly sobbed, wrapping your arms around yourself and doubling over as your heart was torn to pieces all over again.

   Your legs gave out and your knees hit the ground hard before his large frame enveloped you, pulled you to him and lifted you into his lap like you were little more than a baby, and this time, you let him.    Curling into a ball, you cried into his shirt while he rocked you gently back and forth, whispering about how everything would be okay.

   And even though you wanted nothing more than to believe that he was right… you didn’t.

<><><><><><><> 

   It had taken several weeks of cat and mouse games to finally trap the man. And it hadn’t been without its setbacks.    Two of the dogs had been injured along the way, and so had Pero. But while the canines had needed veterinary care, the Spaniard had stitched himself up and kept fighting.    Just like William undoubtedly had, the times that he too had been wounded.

   In the end, though, it had been raw physical strength that had been the decider between them, as they’d eventually chased each other into a fistfight, with no other weapons available to either man. And under those circumstances, Pero had been victorious.    He did suspect that that was only because he was fighting for more than just himself, while the assassin was devoid of all passion or deeper connection to anything at all.

   And that was where the real challenge had started.    Because once he had him, he had to try and find out if there was anything left of his William. His brother and friend. An activity that the man had no interest in participating with.    So, for week after week, Pero kept banging his own head against a wall of resistance.

   He knew what kind of methods had likely been used to bring the poor man to this state, and if he was right, then nothing short of resurrecting his family and bringing them to him was going to reverse it.    But he wasn’t going to give up on the man until he’d exhausted every possible angle.    Still, when two months had passed, he was reaching the end of his rope.

   He was using Dean’s ranch since it was empty anyway and the horses needed tending to, but he couldn’t bear to step inside the house.    He had so many wonderful memories within that house, and he just couldn’t bring himself to taint them by walking in there now with so much darkness hanging over him.    Instead, he lived outside by the fireplace, using a thermal sleeping bag against the night chill, and taking cover in the stables when the weather was bad.

   A car drove up one day while he was grilling some meat over the fire, and he recognized it as the Detective’s cruiser, so he had no reason to worry. She’d been there a few times at that point, bringing him supplies and food even without his asking.    She parked beside the fireplace and stepped out, before opening the rear door and picking up a bag that she handed to him and then sat down opposite him by the fire.

   “Figured you’d be just about out of food by now,” she said instead of a greeting.

   “Thanks,” he answered, peeking into the bag to find carrots for the horses, fresh fruit, instant noodles and more meat.

   “You getting anywhere?” she asked, obviously referring to the prisoner that she knew was being held somewhere on the property.

   His answer was a brief shake of his head, and she sighed.

   “How long are you gonna keep this up?” she pressed. “Two months with no progress to show for it is what most people would consider a failure and move on.”

   “Moving on means killing him… and I can’t do that yet,” he countered, which puzzled her.

   “He’s the only thing standing between you and everything that you love. How can you still want to protect him?”

   “Because he protected me for over a decade. Everything that I am, I owe to this one man, so before I end his life, I have to know that doing so is either my only option, or an act of mercy, if he really is beyond all hope.    And I’m not there yet,” he explained, and she seemed to accept that.

   “I just can’t help but worry about Bee,” she said after a thoughtful pause, and his heart pinched at the sound of your nickname. “Before she met you, she was the sort of person who was always happy on her own, because she carried everything important within herself.    But now, her life and happiness is tied to you, so wherever she is, you know that she’s hurting.”

   The meat was finished then, so he took it off the fire and put it aside to cool, buying himself a few seconds to hold back the tears that threatened to claw their way out of his eyes at her words.

   “Do you think I don’t hurt?” he asked, meeting her gaze with defiance. “Do you think it doesn’t torture me every second, not knowing where she is or if our baby is okay?    I made the only choice I could, knowing that she might never forgive me, so don’t you talk to me about pain, Detective.    You know nothing of the hurt that I carry.”

   Sympathy crept into her features then, and he could see an apology in her frame. But she didn’t articulate it, because she knew that she didn’t need to.    Instead, she changed tracks.

   “I came here to tell you that I’ve finally been able to close the case on Bee’s murder accusation, so that’s not gonna be a problem anymore.    But they had a real mess lined up for her.    If you hadn’t provided me with proof that Lang had set her up, they would’ve succeeded in putting her away for life,” she offered, and that did help to soothe his nerves.

   “He was smart, but also very dumb.    Thank you, Kate.”

   She just nodded at that.

   “Anything you need, just let me know,” she declared, and then got up, stepped back into her car and drove off.

   He dug into the meat then, while preparing himself for another round with his prisoner.    There was only thing that he hadn’t tried yet, because he was still trying to keep you out of this, but the Detective was right. His failure wasn’t helping you.    It was time to play that card.    He’d exhausted all other possibilities, so if this didn’t work, then it really was over.

   Finishing his poor excuse of a meal, he got up and gave the horses some more hay, quickly checking them over before he trudged off into the woods, towards the hidden bunker.    Dean had told him where to find this particular one because each of them was tailored for specific scenarios. There was one for natural disasters, one was practically just an armoury, one for long-term evasion, and so on.

   You only knew about five of them, but there were actually about twice that many. And one of them was specifically designed for capture, imprisonment and interrogation.    It was soundproof, and sat deeper under ground than many of the others, to make it invisible even to thermal cameras. And the door wasn’t just soundproof, but hermetically sealed. Even the dogs couldn’t find it, unless they’d been told to search for the special steel that it was made of.

   There was no special lock on it, though. Just a normal key, which your father had told him where to find.    Stepping inside, there was a steep staircase followed by another door, also sealed and soundproofed, and behind that was an office of sorts, from which he could see all three cells that the bunker accommodated.

   There was a one-way mirror in each of the three walls in the squared space, obviously except for the one where the entrance was. And next to each mirror was a door that led directly into that cell.    William was in the one straight ahead, chained to the wall by his waist and the chain was some six feet too short for him to even reach the mirror. He did have access to a secure toilet, though, and his hands and feet weren’t bound.

   He was sitting in the corner to the left, from Pero’s perspective, either asleep or pretending to be.    To wake him up, or just jostle him a little, the Spaniard sounded a blaring alarm through a speaker system which connected only to that cell. It was a painfully loud siren for anyone that was in the cell, but for Pero, it was barely even audible.

   William almost jumped to his feet, so he had definitely been asleep. He’d been left alone for over fifteen hours by that point, so it made sense that he would’ve dozed off eventually.    His captor walked in slowly, and took a seat against the furthest wall, well out of his reach, before he started talking.    And as always, the man merely glared at him from the moment that he saw him.

   “You get meat today,” he said as he tossed his captive the last piece of the meal that he’d been eating before.

   He’d been feeding him only noodles for two months, but since today might very well be his last day alive, he should get to taste something better.    And Pero could see that he knew that that was why he was getting it, which was probably also why he ignored the treat.

   “Yeah… we’ve gotten to that point, I’m afraid,” the Spaniard sighed, genuinely unhappy. “But before we end this, I want to tell you something.    To sway you, or try to earn your sympathies, sure, but also just because you were my only friend and I want you to know this before you die.    I want you to know why I’ve been trying so hard to keep you alive.”

   He paused then, gathering his thoughts and choosing how to begin, while William merely kept staring at him as though he was trying to kill him with his eyes.

   “I came here to feel closer to you. To try and understand what had happened. But of course, I couldn’t really understand, because I’d never known love like you had.    And then, a couple of weeks after I got here, my dinner was interrupted by this gorgeous woman that just appeared in my lap and kissed me. At first I thought she was just drunk, mistaking me for someone else or just not aware of what she was doing.    But then this asshole pulled her away and said something disgusting, and I realized that she’d ducked into my lap to try and avoid him. So, naturally I got up and resolved the situation, thinking that that would be the end of it.”

   He chuckled at himself then, remembering how that kiss had affected him.    At the time, he really had thought nothing of it. It was only later that the significance had sunk in and he’d started to realize what you’d awoken in him.

   “But days later I still couldn’t get her out of my head.    I followed her, snuck into her studio, watched her draw the most amazing things that brought tears to my eyes for no discernible reason.    As though she’d bewitched me, I was relentlessly pulled back to her, unable to sleep unless I knew that she was safe, even though I knew almost nothing about her and had no right to interfere in her life.    But then she invited me into her house. Then her bed… then her heart. And if I’d thought that I was trapped before, I was suddenly learning what it is to be enchanted.    To want to be trapped by someone.”

   The tears that he’d held back with Jones before, wouldn’t be halted this time. They fell down his cheeks unhindered as he allowed himself to remember and live within the beauty of these memories for a while.    Just a little while.

   “She taught me so many things about myself, and about you. Because by loving her, I finally understood you and the choices you’d made… and I’m so sorry.    I’m sorry for abandoning you. For not being the brother that you’d raised, the friend you deserved.    But most of all… I’m sorry for not accepting Lin Mae as family. For not being happy for you both or supporting you.”

   Will’s eyes twitched almost unperceptively at the mention of his late wife, but that was as much of a reaction as he’d given to anything since his capture.    So, Pero pressed on, now getting to the part that was his final hope.

   “I know what she meant to you now, and I know that it’s far too late, but I need you to hear me when I say that I absolutely understand.    I really do… because the woman you’re after… My woman… she’s carrying my child, Will.”

   And there it was.    For one split second, pain marred his brother’s features. Because no matter how hard he tried, the pain of lost children simply couldn’t be masked.

   “I know what you’ve lost… because I am terrified that you’re going to take the same things from me,” Pero confessed, no longer trying to hold his own emotions back, letting the tears flow in hot streams to try and relieve at least some of the pressure in his chest. “You held them in your arms, didn’t you? After the accident…    You picked them up and you held them close, trying to tell yourself that it wasn’t real, because they were your babies… your precious babies. Innocent and sweet, deserving only the best of life.    And then just gone.”

   The imagery was too much for his own heart, and he had to close his eyes for a minute, and just breathe, reminding himself of the point that he was trying to make.

   “You have to know… Mi hermano, you have to know that I can’t let you do that to my family. You must understand that if those are my only options, then there isn’t even a choice to be made.”

   Opening his eyes again, he was met with the same steel that those blue eyes had been giving him for two months, and for the first time, Pero finally began to accept that there wouldn’t be any fairytale ending to this story.

   “Please, William.    Don’t make me kill you…… I love you.”

   But there was no yield in the man’s gaze. No hint at all that his resolve was faltering.    And oddly enough, his captor was instead the one that was breaking. Torn to pieces by the inescapable truth that his only hope had been exhausted, leaving just one path open.    Clamouring to his feet, he all but ran from the room, and then the bunker all together. And he didn’t stop once he was outside.

   There was no point in trying to outrun himself, but he still tried. He had to.    Because it couldn’t be over, there had to be something else, something he just hadn’t thought of yet, there must be a solution.    Crippling dread and anxiety soon robbed him of his breath, and he crashed hard into the frozen ground.    But he didn’t get back up.

   He wanted the world to stop. He wanted time to turn back. He wanted you to hold him and tell him that everything would be okay.    And since he couldn’t have any of that… he just stayed there.

===============

Link to Part 22

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette I'm sorry

Part 20 - Divided Hearts

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Pero is suffering badly by what's happening, and doesn't seem to know what to do, which ultimately causes both of you to make the decision to lie to each other. (Multiple perspectives)

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM.

Word Count: 7847 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 21

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   Pero could see him with his own eyes, but still, he couldn’t believe it.    This man that he’d known since childhood, loved before he even knew what that meant, grieved for years after learning of his death, unable to reconcile his own failure at being a brother and a friend to the man, suddenly stood before him.    Alive.

   But not living.

   William had been warm, even in the darkest and hardest of times. He’d always had a smile to offer, a dumb joke always loaded and ready to fire if he felt like the mood got too grim.    He’d been kind, despite the cruelty of their work and the terrible things that they’d had to witness or bring to an end.    But the man before him now was none of that.

   This man was dead inside. He didn’t react at all to seeing Pero again, the boy he’d taken under his wing and cared for, sometimes to his own detriment. The boy he’d refused to allow to become a stone-cold killer, all but demanding that he retained his humanity.    And yet, here he stood, prepared and determined to end your life, just because Lang had ordered him to.

   There was no other reason why he would be there.    He’d tracked you through the woods, waiting for you to lead him to your family, so that he could end them all, because that was exactly what a man like Lang would do to make sure that he would still win, even if he died.    The last Falcon, on a last mission, unable to be called off because his commander was dead.

   He would fight to his last breath, use whatever tactics might be required, no matter how menacing or cruel, to complete his mission.    But for now, he was outnumbered and had lost the element of surprise.    He retreated into the woods, but only to lick his wounds. He would be back, and he would keep coming back until he either succeeded… or died.

   The moment that he vanished, Pero turned and grabbed you by the waist, almost lifting you as he ran back towards the house, with Groot on his heels to cover your backs.    You knew where your father hid a spare key, and soon had the door open, and he all but shoved you inside and closed and locked the door.    Then he sprinted through the house, checking every window and door before returning to you, and only then did he allow himself to see you.

   “Are you hurt?” he asked bluntly, and you shook your head, but you were trembling with fear, and it took him a good ten seconds to realize that you were doing that because he was shaking like a leaf himself.

   He took you in his arms and held you, too tightly maybe, he couldn’t tell, while he tried to calm his racing heart.

   “T-that was William…” you croaked after a few minutes of just standing there.

   “Once, yes. But not anymore,” he answered, and you pulled back, staring at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

   “What the fuck is happening, Pero?”

   You were about ready to fall apart, but he needed to get changed since he was still covered in blood.    So, he brought you upstairs to your bedroom and sat you down on the bed while he quickly stripped and then pulled on clean clothes.

   Meanwhile, you worked off your thermal outer layer, and then he sat down beside you and put your legs across his own.    He then tugged your torso into his chest, and for a long while, you just sat like that, breathing together.

   “It seems that Kevin Lang was a truly evil person,” he started, and then quickly ran through everything he’d learned while on his rampage, and you seemed largely unaffected by hearing about what he’d done.

   “It was on the news, I saw it at the precinct,” you explained when he asked you about it, and he supposed that he should’ve expected that.

   But then you asked him the question that couldn’t be put off any longer, and his heart pinched harshly in his chest.

   “How is he alive?”

   Pero could think of only one possibility, and as much as he didn’t want to talk about it, you deserved to know, and to understand what was happening.

   “I think that Lang saw his chance to recruit a real Falcon, when William’s family died and left him in such a state.    He would never have been able to persuade him to work for POP instead, but Will was dying of grief by the end, so all they had to do was wait until it was believable that he’d given up, fake his death and then revive him somewhere where they had control over him.    What probably happened next…” he trailed off, struggling to even imagine this part.

   You didn’t push or try to rush him, though. You patiently waited until he’d found a way to say it, even though it took several minutes.

   “They must’ve… conditioned him. Used his pain and grief to shut his emotions down and turn him into a machine. Tortured his mind until he couldn’t feel anything anymore.    Because the man that you saw out there, that was not William.”

   “I know,” you whispered, and there was so much sorrow in your voice. “I didn’t know him, but I was around him enough to know that even if he was a mercenary, he was never like that.    It was like he didn’t even see you, didn’t know you at all.”

   “He knows only the mission now. And he will not stop.    He’s been injured and that forces him to step back, but he won’t lose our trail or let us slip away from him, even when he’s weakened.    He’s still right outside, we just can’t see him,” he explained, and felt you shiver against him.

   “But then, how do we stop him?” you quietly asked, as if even the question itself was dangerous.

   And this time, Pero didn’t answer.    Because there was only one answer, and it was the one thing that he couldn’t do. He hadn’t even been able to let Groot do it, for fuck’s sake.    He was sure that you could hear the truth in his silence, but you didn’t say it, and he was grateful for that.

   But he was also beginning to understand that this entire situation was becoming impossible to solve.    Had he been the target, it would’ve been so much easier, but protecting you without killing your attacker was an equation without a solution.    William had been his only real loss throughout his life, since he’d been the first person that Pero had truly cared about.

   And now he was facing the possibility of losing everything that he cared about, because he was suddenly being pitted against someone that his heart had never been able to let go of in the first place.    Someone that it had gotten back, against all rhyme or reason.    How the hell was he supposed to just cut that part of his own heart off?

   “I’m sorry, pintora…” he whispered against your hair, trying to hide the pain in his voice and the tears that wouldn’t be halted, against the comforting softness of your hair. “I’m sorry… but I don’t know what to do…”

----------

   Kate stood leaned against her cruiser, exhausted and covered in dirt, while Cody put the shovels away in the trunk and then came to join her.    The upper layer of the ground had been frozen and hard but once they’d gotten past that, the digging had been relatively easy, aside from the fact that it was monotonous and seriously draining on the back and arms.

   But the physical fatigue wasn’t really the reason why she felt drained right then.    The empty fucking coffin was.

   “So, who was supposed to be there?” the kid asked once he’d gotten settled next to her. “Who’s William Garin?”

   “He was one of the mercs that I was telling you about. One of the kids that was trained into becoming the perfect assassin.    But at some point, he fell in love with Lin Mae and left all that behind to start a family, only to then lose them to a freak accident.    He survived the accident, but he couldn’t live without them, and a few months later, he was found dead right here, sitting against their tombstone.    I was the one that was called out to the scene that day, and I can tell you that if he was alive, then someone did a hell of a job masking it, because the man was skin and bones.”

   “Is stuff like that really possible?” the kid asked then, truly struggling with all this, which was entirely understandable. “Like, tetrodotoxin and all that?”

   “No. Not that any branch of science is aware of anyway. But somehow, they still managed it, because I’m telling you, this guy was dead.”

   “And we’re sure that he’s now undead, and not just… I don’t know… misplaced?”

   “He’s alive. I’m not even sure how the pieces fit together yet, but I know that they do. There’s too much going on right now for this to not be relevant,” she pondered, trying to follow the threads in her head, connecting the dots.

   “But I still don’t get where Bee fits into all this?” Cody wondered after silently contemplating for a bit, and she almost laughed.

   “Haven’t you seen the guy that she’s together with these days?”

   “No,” he shrugged.

   “Okay well, his name’s Tovar and he and William were best buds in merc-school,” she told him, and he looked like his brain completely stopped working for a second.

   “What? Wait a minute… Bee’s dating a fucking assassin?!” he finally exclaimed.

   “Yep. And from what I understand, Tovar was their very best, which means that he’s now all that stands between our dear artist and the undead.”

   “Jesus…” the kid breathed, and then paused to think for a bit, and Kate could swear that she saw the cogs moving inside his brain. “Is he-… everything that’s going on in the next town… is that them?”

   “Actually, I’m pretty sure that that’s just Tovar,” she offered, although she understood why he would think that. “Either looking for answers or just cleaning house. Probably both.”

   “One person couldn’t do all that,” the officer objected, sounding quite confident that he was right.

   “He could,” Jones countered, and watched the kid sink with the realization that she wasn’t kidding. “Believe me... he very much could.    The question now is: does he know about William?”

   “Are we gonna tell him?” he asked, mildly panicked even at the thought.

   “I think we should assume that he already knows, but I also think that he needs help. They all do.    But this is all off book, kid. We can’t report any of this, we can never even mention it without potentially incriminating ourselves and a whole lot of other people too.    So, if you want out, now’s the time,” she said, but Cody didn’t even flinch.

   “No. I wanna help.”

   “Alright, then our first stop is Dean’s ranch, because I don’t know where else Bee would’ve gone on foot from her house.”

   “She left her phone and even her car, presumably because they could both be tracked, right?” he asked, and when she nodded, he continued. “So, what about us? If we show up with traceable hardware, aren’t we putting them at risk?”

   “Just ditch your phone and we should be alright. I’ve fitted a switch in my cruiser so that I can turn of the lo-jack if I need to.”

   “You’re pretty adept at all this off the book stuff, Jones. Something I should know?” the kid asked while they pushed off the car and moved to get in.

   “Yeah,” Kate sighed, but in annoyance rather than resignation. “You should know that that’s what wanting to help this particular family costs.    I’d never done anything questionable before Tovar showed up in town.”

   They got in the cruiser then, and once they were buckled up and the Detective had turned the car on, Cody turned his head to look at her.

   “Do you regret it?” he asked, and she paused before setting off.

   She had never really stopped to think about that. She’d considered before making the decisions which had landed her in this position, but she hadn’t really looked back on any of it yet.    Although, now that she did, she found that she couldn’t think of any positive difference that any other choice would’ve made.

   “No,” she eventually declared. “No, I don’t.”

----------

   You were scared in a way that you never had been before. Partly because you’d never been pregnant before, and that invariably influenced every thought and reaction and feeling that you had.    But also, because Pero was scared. And more than that, he was afraid in a way and with a magnitude that you’d never even thought him capable of.

   It had been two hours since you’d gotten back to Dean’s house, and he was still shaking.    He didn’t know what to do, he wasn’t offering up any plan of escape or even trying to comfort you, and that filled you with dread.    Because fear of losing you would’ve spurred him into action, like seeing you get arrested had, but instead, he was closed off. Locked inside his own fears even though there was no cage around him.

   And that made you wonder.    If it wasn’t fear of losing you that was doing this to him, then what was?

   He’d had his chance. He could’ve let Groot finish it, or used the opening to do it himself, but he’d done the opposite.    Pero had saved his enemy, because to him, William could never be that.    Even with everything he’d just told you, about how this man wasn’t Will, your partner was still incapable of seeing him as anything but family.

   He couldn’t kill him, and that was what scared him. For the first time since meeting you, he was incapable of protecting you.    And there was nothing that you could do to help him.    So, you sat there, by the kitchen table with a large mug of tea between your hands, staring at the liquid and wondering why even boiled water wasn’t enough to chase the cold out of your body, while he restlessly wandered through the house, obsessively checking every lock.

   You tried not to think about your father and Abby, stashed away in a bunker somewhere, you just hoped that they stayed there and kept themselves safe and alive.    For one half of a second, you’d considered that maybe having them there could shift things in your favour, but you’d quickly killed that thought.    Because with the way that Pero was acting, they would likely only make things worse.

   Either being two more people that he couldn’t protect, or…

   You knew that Dean would kill William if he got the chance. He had no relationship with the man, and even if he could partially understand his meaning to his adopted son, there would be no contest for him.    He was a father, and he would protect his child and grandchild without hesitation or restraint, which would put Pero in the terrible position of having to decide whether to stand by and do nothing while his adopted father tried to kill his chosen brother… or stop him.

   Giving up on the tea, you left the table to go and throw it away, thinking you’d take a shower instead. But a few steps from the counter, you suddenly doubled over when there was a sharp pain in your abdomen.    The mug hit the floor with a bang, spraying amber liquid everywhere before rolling away, while you slowly lowered yourself to your knees.

   You could hear Pero react from somewhere else in the house, but you were too busy reminding yourself to breathe and not panic, to pay any attention to him right then.    The pain had already faded by the time he got to you, but you were too scared to move yet.

   “Pintora? What happened?” he demanded, and his voice was small, filled with confusion and a sense of helplessness.

   “I don’t know…” you breathed, noting that your own voice sounded exactly the same. “It felt like someone stabbed me.”

   That made him go pale and you could feel how his body tightened next to you.

   “I-I’m sure it’s just stress,” you said, trying to convince both him and yourself that you were fine, but without much success.

   “You need a doctor, we must go to the hospital,” he insisted.

   “Is that safe?” you prodded, and something desperate flooded his features then.

   “Nowhere is safe…” he said, closing his eyes and lowering his head. “I don’t know h-… how to protect you.”

   But before you could offer any response, a sharp few knocks on the front door made you both flinch and turn to look towards the hall, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze.

   “Bee? Tovar? Are you here?” you heard Kate shout, and Pero immediately got up and stepped out to open the door for her.

   But you could hear what sounded like a minor argument ensue a couple of seconds later, so you carefully got up and went to see what was going on.

   “Cody?” you asked once you recognized the poor kid, looking terrified where he stood a couple of steps behind the Detective.

   He nodded politely at you, at which point, Kate raised her eyebrows at Pero, who was blocking the door, presumably because he didn’t know the young officer.

   “It’s okay, honey,” you soothed. “Cody’s a friend, and if Jones risked bringing him here then you can trust him.”

   Your partner eyed him up and down as if he was appraising a weapon, and then sighed and stepped back to let them in.

   “So, I take it you already know about the not-so-late Mr. Garin,” Kate said once the door closed behind them, and you exchanged a worried glance with Pero.

   “How do you know about that?” you questioned, but she just shrugged.

   “Because I’m good at what I do. Look, long story short, we found enough clues embedded within the finances of Useful Reuse for me to put a few disturbing pieces together.    So, what’s the plan?”

   Again, you briefly looked at Pero, but then just sighed and turned back towards the kitchen.

   “Wait… you don’t have a plan?” she correctly inferred from the silent communication between you and your partner, but you weren’t in the mood to get into that.

   “It’s complicated. Right now, I need to see a doctor.”

   That immediately shifted her gears.

   “Why? What’s wrong?”

   “Uh… I don’t know. Which I’m learning is very scary when you’re pregnant,” you explained, and once again, Kate’s focus changed.

   “Wow, congratulations! Although I can definitely see the complication there.”

   “Oh, it gets better,” you smiled, but it was a cold one that died quickly. “William’s mission isn’t Pero… it’s me. And probably dad and Abby too.”

   “Shit. I figured that Lang would retaliate for the mercs he lost at the factory, but I was really hoping that he wouldn’t come after you,” she said, and you just met her eyes, because you didn’t know what to say.

   “Is there any way that we can help you get to the hospital safely?” Cody chipped in then, before looking at your partner as if he worried that just talking to you was gonna earn him a death sentence.

   “Getting there is not the problem,” Pero answered. “The building is. There are too many unknown variables, to many opportunities for someone to interfere.”

   “Okay, then maybe we can bring a doctor here? You’ll need what… an OBGYN?” the kid suggested.

   “Or a midwife,” you agreed. “Do you think we could do that?” you continued, turning to your partner once more.

   He took a minute to think it over, but he didn’t look hopeful.

   “This house isn’t good either. Too many soft points,” he muttered, clearly disappointed with himself for not having a solution for you.

   And for some reason, that was the moment that your maternal instinct decided not to tolerate his inability to act any longer.

   “Alright, then we go to the hospital,” you declared, and before he could even begin to object, you closed the distance between you and got right up in his face. “You’re my partner, you’re allowed to be by my side throughout the procedure, so we’re gonna go and you’re gonna stay with me every second.    Understood?”

   He just stared at you for a few beats, and for an infinitesimal moment, a terrible feeling went through you as you met his eyes.    Something in the depths of his being faltered, for just that tiny fraction in time, but within that moment, you knew that he considered a different path. A painful, horrible path.    You couldn’t imagine what it could be, and your heart stopped you from lingering on it, but it still left you feeling even colder than before.

   “Okay,” he finally agreed, and he sounded genuine enough that you were able to shake the unpleasant sensation. Maybe even tell yourself that you’d imagined it.

   You both needed to clean up better if you were going to set foot inside a hospital without raising alarms, so you went upstairs to take the shower that you’d been heading for earlier.    The hot water helped you feel more human again, and managed to ease your worries about the sharp pain that you’d felt earlier, because there was no trace of it even as you bent to scrub your legs or twisted to reach your back.    But you still wanted to get checked out, just in case.

   When you re-emerged into the bedroom afterwards, Pero was sitting on the edge of the bed, for some reason having opted not to join you in the shower. He still had a lot of blood to scrub off so it could just be that he wanted to shield you from having to see that.    But the look in his eyes when you stepped out in just your underwear, and his gaze was automatically drawn to your little bump, ground you to an immediate halt.

   He looked haunted. Tortured. To the point where your body actually hurt at the mere sight of him.

   “Pero…” you breathed, half choking on the one word as powerful emotions that you couldn’t even identify slammed through your chest. “What is it?”

   He met your eyes then, and somehow his expression got even worse.    A darkness seemed to fall over him, but not one of rage, frustration or sadness. This darkness was pure anguish. It was desperation and hopelessness of a kind you’d never known that a person could even have within them.

   Empathy made you reach for him, taking the last few steps to get to where he sat and then pull his shoulders and head into your embrace, and he quickly wrapped his arms around your hips, pressing his face into the softness of your belly.    He was breathing hard, and you could feel hot tears spill against your skin, but he said nothing.

   “We’re gonna be okay, love,” you told him, needing to say something to try and break the overbearing pressure of the atmosphere in the room. “We’ll find a way.”

   It was wishful thinking, but also your determination to not give up hope and to not let him do that either. You had to believe that everything would somehow work out, otherwise, what was the point of even trying.    His grip tightened, and he quietly sobbed a few times, before he suddenly just let go of you, and in one swift movement got up and slipped away into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

   Not since that evening that he’d finally come back to you after the whole Pete incident, had he shut you out like this, and it worried you.    The implication that he was struggling with himself to that extent, was proof positive that there wouldn’t be any simple solution to this. But more frighteningly, it was making you wonder if there was any solution at all.

   However, your mind wasn’t allowing that to be a possibility for you.    With a child to protect, the only question was how you were going to survive, not if. And if Pero wasn’t going to take charge and create a solution, then you would.    You got dressed and headed back downstairs, where Kate and Cody were waiting in the kitchen, having made coffee and poured themselves a cup.    A quick glance at your watch revealed it to be 05:20, just before dawn.

   “Kate, I’m gonna need your help,” you said quietly as you reached them.

   “What do you need, hon?” she asked without pause, but you took a second before you answered, because you needed to say this right, to make sure that she understood.

   “Pero can’t kill William. And by that I mean that he literally can’t.    He had a chance earlier tonight and he didn’t take it, and he won’t even if he gets another one. I’m not sure that he can even fight him, if and when it comes to that,” you explained, seeing her face turn increasingly grim with each word you said.

   “He will if that’s the only way to protect you,” she insisted, and you shook your head.

   “But he won’t recover from that. If he’s forced to kill William then I lose him forever, I can’t let that happen.”

   “So… what are you thinking?”

   “I’m thinking that we need to make sure it doesn’t come to that. We need to find and eliminate the threat so that he doesn’t have to, and the only one that’s got a shot at doing that, is my dad and his pack,” you whispered.

   She mulled that over for a while, and then nodded once.

   “There isn’t much we can do for you at the hospital, but Tovar still expects us to be there as backup, so we’ll need to slip away.    I can tell him that we’ve been called back to the station to answer some questions about a search of your house that we never reported in.    But how are we gonna find Dean?”

   “That’s the tricky bit. I know of two places where he might be, but if he’s not there, then I’ve got nothing,” you said, before hurriedly explaining how they’d find the two bunkers that you did know of.

   “Okay, got it,” she nodded, and so did Cody, having memorized it too.

   “I know that I’m asking you to lie, again, but I don’t know what else to do,” you admitted, but she just placed a soothing hand on your shoulder.

   “I’m here because I care, Bee. I got into this of my own free will and I’m still here, even though there’s no gun to my head.    You worry about your family and yourself and let me worry about me.”

   Before you could answer, you heard Pero come down the stairs, so you got up to head for the front hall, feeling better now that you had a plan, but also terrible about deceiving him.    The shower seemed to have helped him too, though, because the haunting darkness was gone when he came to your side to escort you out to the cars.

<><><><><><><> 

   If he’d been in a better frame of mind, he might’ve seen it coming.    He should’ve remembered that you weren’t one to sit idly by and wait for someone else to solve your problems, but he wasn’t operating on full capacity right then.    His mind was a terrified mess that he couldn’t sort out no matter how hard he tried and he should’ve known that you’d see that and take matters into your own hands.

   He knew that Jones was lying when she said that they’d been called back. Not because of anything in her tone, but just because he knew the moment that she deviated from their agreed upon plan, that it was because you had asked her to.    That was the moment that he remembered who you were and what he should expect from you.

   And since the only other ally you had was your father, he guessed that you’d sent the good Detective to rally him and his dogs into the fight.    It was logical and understandable, but ultimately foolish.    Not because Dean didn’t stand a chance, he actually had a good shot at taking William down, especially now that he was injured. The problem was that Pero couldn’t let him do it.

 �� And while he sat there with you in the waiting room, he realized that by involving your father, you’d unknowingly given your partner an opportunity.

   He stayed right by your side for the exam, which didn’t reveal anything alarming, allowing you both to breathe a little easier.    But the doctor also informed you both that the pain could be a reaction to stress, a warning from your body that things could quickly turn bad if you didn’t start slowing down and try to relax more.    Which was, of course, not really an option for you right then.

   So, once the doctor left and you started getting dressed, Pero began to set his newly formed plan into action, because there was no time to waste.    He had to get you to a place where it would be possible for you to live free of stress and give your baby the best possible conditions.

   “Pintora… I know what you’re doing, but it will not work,” he said as you’d just finished pulling your jeans on.

   You stopped then and looked at him with an expression somewhere between fear, annoyance and desperation, clearly willing to believe that he’d figured out your plan.

   “Well, you’re apparently not doing anything, so I had to,” you said, throwing your arms out in exasperation, and he stepped closer to you so that he could lower his voice.

   “You’re right to think that Dean could probably kill him when he’s in this state, and I know that you only did this in secret because you know that I must stop him if he tries, which I’m sure you think is wrong of me.    But what if you’re wrong?    What if William only failed the first time because he is out of practice in the field, and has now become enraged. Anger will only increase his focus and make him lean harder on his knowledge, his decades of learned skills and muscle memory.    Failure has only made him more dangerous, and if he kills your father-…”

   “Then give me an alternative, Pero!” you cut him off, unwilling to hear the end of that sentence. “Tell me that you have a plan, tell me that we’re not just gonna sit and wait for your brother to come and finish us all off, because as long as you refuse to fight him, that is what will happen.    He’s not gonna stop, you said so yourself.”

   “Of course I will fight him, Bee,” he said, slightly hurt that you would think that he wouldn’t even try to protect you. “Of course, I will.    But not on his terms. I must fight him on my terms, in accordance with my beliefs and in a way that allows me to lean on my strengths too.”

   You were almost in tears when he fell silent, trying to distract yourself by returning to pulling clothes on. But your trembling hands revealed just how strong the emotions behind your only barely held back tears really were.

   “He’s coming for all of you, and I need you all to be safe if I’m going to be able to engage him, so please, tell me how we contact your father?” he pressed, but kept to a soft tone, hoping that his argument would be enough to break through your fear.

   You finished putting your clothes on, using that as an excuse to buy time to think, and he let you have that.

   “Kate,” you finally said, once you were done. “She took a pair of dad’s burner phones from the house. If she’s found him, then he has one and she has the other.”

   He pulled you into a hug then, gently kissing the side of your head and holding you tightly against him, because from the moment that you left that room, he’d have to go back to being the perfect operative, not allowing any distractions until this was done.

<><><><><><><> 

   A part of you was relieved to know that apparently, he did have something planned. But you were also worried about the fact that he still hadn’t told you exactly what that was.    He was going to fight Will, but to what end?    He still couldn’t kill him, so your assumption was that he planned on capturing him, and he clearly wanted you to be elsewhere when that happened, which you understood.

   Your job was to keep your baby safe, so you would keep away if need be, and leave the fighting to him and Dean, but you couldn’t do that unless you knew that you’d actually be safe.    There was an uneasy feeling that gnawed at you from somewhere deep down in your subconscious, but as much as you tried to figure out what it was, you couldn’t.

   So, you followed quietly as he led the way to the car, never letting go of you until you were safely buckled up, with Groot happily welcoming you back from the backseat.    Pero insisted on driving this time, and you didn’t argue, because it gave you time to think.    But when you got to the place where you’d agreed to meet with Kate, your father and Abby was there, and suddenly all you wanted was to hug them close and know that they were okay.

   “Dad!” you called as soon as you were out of the car, and then ran to meet him on the otherwise abandoned rest-stop.

   “Hey, Bumblebee,” he warmly greeted once his arms were wrapped all the way around you, and in that moment, you felt like maybe everything would be alright after all.

   When you let go of him to hug Abby next, he stepped over to Pero, but you didn’t see how they exchanged a look and then turned their backs to the rest of you.    You saw them slowly walk further away while discussing something, though, so you felt certain that they were coming up with a plan, and that thought was only comforting to you in that moment.

   And so was the sight of all five dogs lining up in a circle around the rest of you, the moment that the men stepped away.

   “Are you okay?” Abby asked when she pulled back, glancing down at your abdomen before returning to your eyes. “I heard you were at the hospital.”

   “Yeah, I just had a scare, nothing to worry about,” you said, which wasn’t entirely true, but there was no real point in mentioning that you needed to reduce your stress, because that wasn’t gonna be possible anyway.

   At least, not until this was over.

   You looked towards the men who seemed to be deeply embedded in a serious conversation by then, but you couldn’t make out anything that they were saying.    But they looked like they were in agreement, so you tried not to worry. Together, the two of them were a force to be reckoned with, so whatever their plan would be, you felt certain that your odds of getting out of this without losing anyone, were increasing.

   You hoped that Pero was being honest with him, telling him about not wanting to kill William, because otherwise any plan that they came up with, was doomed to fail.    Although, you did feel certain that your partner wouldn’t be stupid enough to lie about that, but you also wondered why they weren’t including the rest of you in their reasoning.    After another few minutes, the men nodded to each other and then came back to the group, stepping into the guarding circle of canines that shifted to accommodate them.

   “Okay, here’s what we’re thinking,” Dean declared. “Since we can’t track William, we have to wait for him to make a move before we can do anything. But with all of us out in the open, we’re simply too vulnerable, because it forces Pero and I to focus primarily on protection, rather than attack.    So, what we need to do is split up.”

   “But wouldn’t that make those of us that can’t fight even more vulnerable?” you questioned, to which your partner offered the answer.

   “Not if we can put you in a place where even if he can find you, he can’t get to you.”

   “Like where?” Abby asked, and again, it was Pero that responded.

   “Like a SCIF.”

   Jones raised her brows at that, clearly the only one of the rest of you who knew what that was.

   “You’re telling me that you’ve got access to one in this city? Because I find it hard to believe that there even is one here,” she challenged.

   “I have a small one of my own, Kate,” Dean informed her. “How else do you think I’ve been able to safely record any data about my work without the risk of it being intercepted?”

   She didn’t question that, so apparently it made sense to her.    None of this made sense to you, though.

   “Can someone please tell me what the hell a SCIF is?” you requested, and your father turned to you.

   “It’s an acronym that stands for Sensitive Compartmented Information Facility. In short, it’s a secure way of storing digital as well as physical information, basically as close to an impenetrable room as you can get.”

   “Is that one of the other three hideouts of yours?” you asked, because that would explain why he hadn’t told you about all of them.

   “Yes, and it’s not that far from here. So, I’m gonna take you and Abby there, while Pero and our brave policemen here are gonna distract William.”

   That did actually sound like a solid plan to you. And exactly the sort of plan that you’d expect these two men to come up with.    So, why was that feeling still gnawing at you?

   “I don’t like the thought of leaving you,” you told Pero, and he stepped closer to you to take your hands.

   “I know. But this is the only way I can think of, to keep everyone alive,” he said, which reminded you of something.

   “You still think that there’s a way to end this without killing him?” you asked, and he sighed heavily.

   “I don’t know. But I have to try,” he almost whispered now. “I owe him that.    Do you understand?”

   “Not really,” you admitted. “But I know you. I know what this family means to you, so if William is somehow still equally important to you, despite everything, then I guess I do understand why you can’t just end him.”

   “Thank you, querida,” he breathed, sounding relieved.

   He took you in his arms then and held you as tightly as he dared without breaking you.    And when he let you go, he kissed you briefly before immediately stepping away, kneeling beside Groot to tell him to look after you.    Meanwhile, your father followed you back to your car and made sure that you got in before he called Groot over.

   And once Abby had joined you and everyone was buckled up, Dean started the car and drove off.    You watched Pero for as long as the road allowed, and he did the same, and when he disappeared from view, the sinking feeling that you weren’t going to see him again for what was probably several days, made you sad and worried.

<><><><><><><> 

   Pero watched you for as long as he could, but once you were gone, his work began and he sprung into action, ordering the remaining four dogs to load up into Dean’s customized truck.

   “Alright, so what’s the plan for this distraction?” Jones asked, while he locked them in and double checked the latches.

   “There isn’t one,” he declared as he approached her and the kid. “Thank you for your help. Now, go back to your lives and forget that this ever happened.”

   Ghosting past them, he snatched both of their radios and the burner phone, dropping them on the ground and stomping on them until they were all broken.    At first, they were just shocked and much too unnerved by his uncanny movements, to say anything. But he could see that Jones was thinking hard, and he could see it when she connected the dots.

   “There’s no SCIF… is there?” she correctly pondered, and he shook his head.

   “But… what does that mean? Where are they going?” Cody asked, sounding angry about the obvious deception.

   “Somewhere safe. That’s all you need to know,” Pero answered sharply. “Sorry about your stuff, but I can’t let you warn her.    Do I need to disable the cruiser’s comms too?”

   He pointed the question at Jones, and she met his eyes for a long moment.

   “No,” she finally said, and he knew that she meant it, even though the kid immediately started protesting.

   She ignored him completely, nodding at Pero with tears building in her eyes.    Because she understood what he was doing. And why.

   He hopped into the truck and drove off, following your father’s route because he knew that William would be on your trail already.

<><><><><><><> 

   The drive wasn’t as long as you’d expected, considering that the rest-stop had been on the other side of town from your father’s ranch.    But then, you supposed that it was possible that this secure facility could be somewhere completely unrelated to his property.    That would actually make a lot of sense.

   It took you a while to recognize the place where he finally stopped, though, because you hadn’t been there since you’d been a very small girl.    It was a really old and overgrown single runway, with a little tower that was all but collapsed, and a hangar that had been empty for at least thirty years.    And still, you didn’t question it.

   Dean was masterful when it came to hiding things, even very big things, so you just assumed that this facility was underground, or cleverly concealed in some other way.    And you believed that specifically because no one would ever expect to find anything special here, which made it the perfect hiding place.

   He parked right outside the hangar and told everyone to get out.    Then he brought you inside the large but rundown structure with no roof left, bringing you to the very end of the open space, where he opened a hidden panel in the back wall, and flipped a master switch.    Nothing happened, but then he pressed a button underneath the switch, and a hatch in the floor suddenly opened.

   “Alright, follow me and watch your step,” he said as he began to climb down a ladder into what appeared to be complete darkness.

   Nevertheless, you and Abby followed, helping Groot to get down together, and once you reached the floor, Dean was there in what little light streamed down from above.

   “Straight ahead now, just stay on my tail,” he continued, leading you forwards into what quickly became pitch black.

   Using touch and vocal guidance, he led you to a metal structure where you heard a sliding door being unlocked and opened, before you had to climb up a couple of steps.

   “There are seats just to your left there. Sit down and wait while I get the lights,” he told you both, and then you heard the door that you’d just come through, being shut and locked.

   There was scuffle of clothing ahead of you as Dean moved, then other sounds that you couldn’t identify, before a slight whirring sounded.    Little red lights suddenly popped up everywhere, too small to actually light up the room, but enough to let you make out certain details.    Most noticeably, that you didn’t seem to be in a room.

   But it wasn’t until a loud rumble sounded from above, and daylight suddenly started streaming down, that you could see what it actually was.    You’d climbed down through the floor of the hangar, into a hidden subterranean hangar of equal size, where your father apparently had a large military helicopter stashed away.    From the cockpit, he’d activated an automated opener for the floor of the hangar above you, which was the source of the rumbling and the reason why the light was reaching you.

   He was already starting the twin engines when you got up and approached the small opening between the cargo bay and the cockpit.    But once there, you couldn’t find anything to say.    Because how could you berate or scold him for lying to you, when he’d done it precisely because he knew that you would never have agreed to this, even though it was probably your best shot at getting away safely.

   He didn’t say anything either, he just kept working on warming up the engines. And even when the craft started to climb out of the giant hole in ground, he didn’t tell you to go get strapped in.    Which was why you saw it when the helicopter climbed past the rundown walls of the hangar, revealing a car that came to a screeching stop right beside yours.

   You saw William step out of it, and instantly aim a gun at the craft, but before he could get a shot off, another car approached, and this one you recognized.    Pero must’ve been tailing you at a distance, waiting for Will to reveal himself so that he could ambush him.

   And abruptly, you knew that this had been his plan all along. Perhaps from the moment that you’d stepped out of the shower and found him on the edge of the bed. Or even earlier, when he’d been pacing about the house.    He must’ve known, even then, that the only way for him to be able to both protect and fight, was if he separated the two.

   Sending you away was the hardest decision that he’d ever had to make, you were certain of that, as you could now understand the absolute anguish and torment that you’d seen in him that day.    But he was also wilfully ignoring what losing him would do to you.    And you weren’t sure that you could ever forgive that.

   Finally high enough, Dean turned the aircraft and the scene on the ground disappeared from your view as he sped away.    From that moment on, all you could do was cling to the hope that there was still some humanity left in William, and that Pero would be able to reach it.    Because if not, then this would be the last time that you ever saw the father of your child.

===============

Link to Part 21

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette I think I'd be a little too shocked for that. But I'm continually flattered at how much you care 😘

Part 19 - Dead Men Walking

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

You and Pero are fighting for your lives and futures on separate fronts, when a terrible secret begins to unfold. One which has the potential to destroy everything you hold dear. (Multiple perspectives)

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM.

Word Count: 5922 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 20

<><><><><><><><><>

   The hardest part about looking for someone while also trying to stay invisible, was that you could never be completely certain that no one saw you, no matter how careful you tried to be.    Groot was a good help, but he was still relying primarily on scents to inform him if there was a possible threat nearby, and that strategy was far from foolproof.

   You went home first, because it was winter, and you needed better clothes and a survival kit before you went looking for your father and best friend, but also because if anyone was following you, it was a good way to find out if that someone was shit at their job.    A good tracker had the confidence to keep their distance, knowing that even if they momentarily lost your trail, they’d find it again, whereas a bad one would feel compelled to stay close, even if it increased the risk of being spotted.

   And since your house stood by itself at the end of a long street, with nothing but snow-covered woodlands on three sides, it offered a good opportunity to figuratively smoke out anyone on your trail.    Because out there, they’d be incapable of not leaving trails of their own. Plus, you knew the terrain as well as you knew how to draw Pero’s face.

   After dressing for a cross country trek, you grabbed your best backpack and filled it with a sleeping bag, a good knife, a storm lighter, two bottles of water, a first aid kit, a flashlight, extra mittens and socks, four tin-cans of soup, a small pot and some biscuits.    You also strapped a hunting knife to your belt and hid the stiletto that your partner had given you, inside your right mitten.    If you’d had any gun in the house you would’ve strapped that on too, but you didn’t.

   Finally, you left your phone in the kitchen and put a security vest on Groot, just in case.    As you left the house, you gave him the command “Danger” which meant that he should keep extra good watch on anything suspicious, from people to trip wires or land mines.    Once outside, you took a wide sweep around the entire property, looking for tracks, but you couldn’t find any, and the dog didn’t indicate anything, so using the stream to navigate, you set off into the woods.

   Dean had at least five locations out in the wild where he could go and hide if something should happen to make his home unsafe for him or the dogs, and you knew where two of them were, so you just had to hope that he’d chosen one of those.    Because even when you knew where they were, they were impossible to see, so you had no hope of finding them if they’d gone to one of the other three.

   It was already dark by the time you left, but you opted not to use the flashlight.    There was enough of a cloud cover for the city lights to be reflected and give off an ambient light that together with the snow enabled you to see quite well.    But you biggest concern was actually just keeping your head in the present. Because the monotony of walking made it so easy for your mind to stray, worrying about Pero and how he was gonna find you, since he didn’t know about these hideouts.

   You had to remind yourself that he was probably the best tracker there was, and that he’d certainly utilize every ounce of his skillset to find you, to keep yourself from worrying so much that you lost track of where you were heading.    Pero would be fine.    He was a master, the killer elite, no one would be able to stop him.

<><><><><><><> 

   His search for Lang had brought him clear across the city, making his way through the man’s properties and destroying them as he went.    Primarily to make sure that even if he managed to slip through Pero’s fingers, his business would take a hard enough hit to keep him preoccupied and allow his enemy to reacquire him.

   For all the apparently ludicrous advertising and the whole image he’d made of himself as being this goofy, harmless recycling-loving nerd, Kevin Lang was actually a genius.    He’d built an entire miniature empire for himself, out of just one little factory and a lot of clever use of corporate law, cornering a market that no one else had even caught onto yet, and then using that as his steppingstone into the criminal underworld.

   And while POP had ultimately failed long before Pero had destroyed it, the man behind it clearly had greater ambitions, which generally meant that he wouldn’t stop. If he wasn’t already in the process of trying to rebuild his mercenary troop, he soon would be.    But with a giant target pointed at you, the Spaniard couldn’t allow him to do that, even if it meant burning a city to the ground or hunting the man to the ends of the Earth.

   Still, Pero wasn’t being ruthless.    He wasn’t killing indiscriminately, he was actually very particular about who fell victim to his rage, because this was as much an extermination as it was a statement.    He knew who in the chain of command would be aware of what Lang’s true work entailed, and who just happened to be working for him, completely unaware of what they were contributing to.

   Only those that knew, those that directly or even indirectly condoned the use of an innocent, pregnant woman to further their own agenda, died at his hands.    Aside from upper management, department heads and their closest associates, accountants, economists, lawyers, advisors and publicists were targeted.    Everyone else, including lower-level secretaries, security personnel and janitors in the building’s that he destroyed, along with police and firemen, were spared.

   Although if anyone didn’t make it out of the fires that he deliberately set, that was their own fault, as far as he was concerned.    Nothing that Lang owned or controlled was going to be left standing today.

<><><><><><><> 

   You stopped to rest after about two hours, sitting down on the trunk of a fallen tree where your back was shielded by dry and frozen shrubs that would creak and break if anyone moved through them.    Groot was right beside you every step, and stayed by your left leg even after you’d sat down, still on high alert.

   He’d eaten some snow along the way to stay hydrated, but you offered him some of your water anyway.    Predictably though, he ignored it. He was trained not to allow any distractions when he was under a command that involved a threat, and you didn’t dare to take him out of that command, even just for a short rest, because you felt like you were being watched.

   It could just be your own nerves tricking you into fearing the forest itself, because you hadn’t heard or seen anything suspicious, and it would be quite hard for any pursuer to stay completely silent in the cold and dry snow.    Not to mention having to contend with the dog’s superior senses.    But the feeling was relentless, and you didn’t have the luxury of ignoring your basic instincts right then.

   So, after just a few minutes, you got back up and kept walking. You still had another four hours to go to reach the woods around your father’s ranch, and then you still had to locate the hideouts and hope that you found the correct one.    You were planning a longer stop once you reached a spot you knew about, some forty or fifty minutes further on, where there was a cliff and a dry spot where you’d be able to build a fire and have some soup.

   But for now, you merely soldiered on, trying not to let the fact that you were almost all alone in the wilderness, possibly being hunted by a mercenary, send you into a panic.    If you managed to stay calm, your chances of success would be a lot better.    Unfortunately, you were also highly aware that literally no one, not even Pero, knew where you were right now, which meant that there was no help to be found, should something go wrong.

----------

   Jones was in her office, working late to detail her interview with you into your file while it was fresh in her memory, when her phone rang.    The caller ID was one of the uniformed officers, Cody, that she’d sent to drive past your house, just to make sure that you’d gotten home alright.    Or at least, that’s what she’d told the officer. What she really wanted was to be sure that none of what was going on in the neighbouring city had found its way to you.

   “Hey, Cody. All good?” she greeted, hoping for just one bit of good news that evening.

   “Uh… unclear,” the officer responded, and then proceeded to explain. “I drove past just like you asked, but it looked like something was off about the front door, so I stopped and took a closer look, and… I think someone might’ve broken in.”

   Kate felt a sharp twinge of something very cold and unpleasant run over her skin, the moment she heard that.

   “Exactly where are you right now, Officer?” she demanded, and the young man suddenly sounded very nervous.

   “On the front porch. Why?” he asked, and she was already leaving her office when she answered.

   “Get back in your cruiser and lock the doors, right now, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

   She drove way too fast, but got there without incident, parking next to the other cruiser, and once she’d gotten out of the car, Cody stepped out as well.

   “What’s going on, Jones?” he asked, while she scanned the outside of your house.

   “I don’t know, but it could be really bad,” was all she offered in return, which was far from enough.

   But she couldn’t very well start explaining to this kid that there might a group of mercenaries after you, because naturally, he’d wanna know why, and that was just too complicated and too incriminating to explain.

   “Shouldn’t we call for backup, then?” he asked, which according to the textbook, they absolutely should.

   “Cody… I’m gonna need you to be my backup today,” she said, and to his credit, the young officer didn’t hesitate to draw his weapon and nod in agreement, not even questioning her decision to disregard protocol.

   She drew her gun as well, pointing it at the deck, and then they slowly approached the front door.    Once up on the porch, she could see what he’d meant about something looking off about the door. It was a modern and very secure one, so the intruder had been forced to drill the lock open.    It would’ve been easier to just break a window, but then that tended to draw attention.

   “Shit…” she muttered, and then turned her head back to the kid and whispered. “I’ve got point, you cover my six.    The kitchen is the first opening to the right, we sweep that first, then we move down the hall. Anything jumps out, don’t shoot unless you can ID it. Any questions you have, tap my shoulder and use hand signals. Got it?”

   He nodded firmly, and she noted that he seemed impressively calm considering that this would be his first live sweep.    But that could change in the blink of an eye.    She pulled the door open and they stepped inside, quickly moving to the kitchen and sweeping through it effectively.

   Cody didn’t miss a step, keeping her back covered through the entire house, checking all her blind spots and following her rhythm without a hitch.    The search went smoothly and by the book, but didn’t reveal much.

   “Nice work, Officer. But unless I’ve missed something, whoever broke in doesn’t seem to have touched anything,” she said while they both put their guns away.

   “Nothing obvious anyway. But I saw a smartphone in the kitchen,” he offered, and she asked him to show her.

   It was locked, but the screen displayed a very good picture of Tovar and Groot, sitting together outside your father’s stables on a sunny day in autumn colours.

   “Dammit. This is Bee’s phone,” she sighed, but that seemed to confuse the kid.

   “I don’t understand. Is that bad? She could’ve just forgot it.”

   It was bad, because with your partner out of town and at war with a major corporation, the only reason you’d leave it behind was if you were afraid that it could be tracked.    Which would suggest that you were either hiding or running for your life.    But again, there was no simple way to explain that.

   “Cody… I’m gonna ask you to do something now that you’re not gonna agree with, but I’m gonna need you to do it anyway,” she said, putting your phone back on the kitchen counter and stepping closer to the officer. “I need your report to say that you drove by the house on my request, and that there was nothing of interest.    No mention of a break-in, a search, none of it.”

   He didn’t look appalled or shocked, but his eyebrows knit together as he considered that.

   “If I’m gonna lie on an official report then at least tell me why,” he prodded, and she sighed again, because he would be so much safer not knowing any of it.

   “Please, trust me… You don’t wanna know,” she persisted, but then Cody suddenly looked very sad.

   “Tell me you’re not on the take,” he demanded, and she was relieved to be able to give a truthful answer.

   “No, it’s nothing like that. I swear.”

   “Okay,” he accepted without further inquiry. “But there’s gotta be something I can do to help?”

   “Yeah, actually. When we get back to the station, I want you to look up all the tax records that you can find on a company called Useful Reuse,” she suggested, and the kid’s eyes popped wide open.

   “Wait… isn’t that one of the companies that’s being attacked right now? How the hell is Bee connected to that?”

   “Seriously, that is exactly what you do not want to be asking right now,” she reminded him. “Please, just look into it.”

   “Sure,” was all he said, before turning to leave, but when he got to the doorway, he stopped and turned back. “I’m choosing to trust you here, Kate, cause I know that you’re a good cop too.    Please, don’t let me down.”

   They walked out of the house together, getting in their separate cruisers to head back to the station, and Jones spent the entire drive wondering if she’d ever be able to earn that trust.

----------

   After several hours of mayhem, Pero had finally learned that Kevin Lang was hiding in a friend’s office in a skyscraper on the opposite side of the city.    He stole another motorcycle to get there fast, but made sure not to draw too much attention to himself on the way, because he wanted the police to steer clear of this one.    He might need some time alone with the man, and he wanted to be sure that he wouldn’t be forced to cut things short because of any third party meddling.

   Seeing as it was well after 10pm, the building was locked down for the night when he got there, but the underground garage wasn’t manned after hours, so he broke into that via a service entrance on the side of the building.    That took him into the garage where he had to break into the stairwell, since the elevators wouldn’t come to sublevels during lockdown.

   Thankfully, however, he only had to climb the four flights of stairs up to the ground floor, because from there, the elevators did work.    But before he went up, he double checked that the information he’d pried out of a dying company executive, had been accurate, and that there was in fact an office on the forty-first floor belonging to one Mr. D. Duncan.

   Just to be sure that he wouldn’t be met by a gun-toting maniac before he’d even stepped out of the elevator, he climbed up onto the roof of the car while it went up.    And when it came to a stop, he quickly made his way to the next floor up via a permanent ladder on the wall, before prying those doors open and stepping out onto floor forty-two.    Then it was a simple matter of taking the stairs two flights down, and he was there.

   The entrance to the stairs were in a different corridor than the elevators, so he could sneak out safely and listen around the corner for anyone checking out the car. But there was no one out in the hall, so he quickly located the correct office and stopped for a moment to listen through the door.    He could hear low voices from inside, two by the sounds of it, but there could be more.

   So, he took a moment to still his senses and increase his focus, as it would help him to read the room and move fast enough to eliminate anyone standing in between him and Lang.    Then, like a snake, he quickly and quietly snuck the door open and slipped inside, finding four guards, two of which he’d already fatally stabbed by the time the others reacted.    He threw both of his knives simultaneously at each of the two remaining threats, one landing in the face and the other in the heart.

   Meanwhile, Mr. Duncan and Lang, who were sitting in pulpy looking armchairs, smoking cigars, had only managed so far as getting to their feet before Pero was already grabbing Duncan by the hair and breaking the man’s face against his kneecap.    He fell to the floor in a spluttering mess of blood and pieces of nasal bone, making it easy for his attacker to bash the back of his skull in with his own ashtray.

   “Okay, okay, Mr. Tovar… let’s just be reasonable here,” Lang started, holding his hands up in defeat while he attempted to dance away towards the door.

   Pero let him get close enough that he could actually reach the doorhandle, before he ghosted over there and slammed the door shut, to Kevin’s absolute astonishment.

   “Wow! That is truly amazing.    I’ve heard the stories, obviously, the brothers loved nothing better than to tell the legendary tales of the man that can move so fast that our eyes can’t keep up!” he prattled on, while still trying to move away.

   This time pointlessly putting Mr. Duncan’s desk between himself and his attacker.

   “If only you would’ve wanted to train my recruits, we could’ve built an unstoppable army. I mean, look at you! How many people have you singlehandedly killed tonight? How many buildings have you destroyed?    And I’d be willing to bet everything I own, that by tomorrow, no one will even know that you were ever here.    God, Tovar! You can’t buy that kinda skill!” he continued, succeeding only in further aggravating the Spaniard.

   “You can’t force it either,” he snapped between tight jaws, and the man actually shivered at the sound of his voice, barely even human under the weight of his rage.

   “Ah, yes… You mean the lovely Bumblebee,” Lang teased, having the audacity to smile as he said it. “I will admit, as you’ve no doubt figured out, I had planned on merely separating the two of you.    It seemed fitting, forcing her to live out her days all alone in a maximum security prison, with you on the outside, powerless to help her.    That would’ve satisfied my desire for revenge, quite thoroughly.”

   Pero kept perfectly still, again like a snake, just waiting for the moment to strike. But he needed his enemy to disclose everything that he’d set in motion against you, before he could take him out.    And since Lang seemed happy to prattle on without being questioned, he merely waited, tolerated, and listened closely.

   “But then, you had to go and do all this shit,” Kevin sighed, gesturing out the panoramic windows, where there was a good view of the fires raging to the south. “It’s gonna take me years to rebuild all that, which is just too much for me to forgive.”

   Slowly, a creeping feeling that he’d missed something very important, was starting to travel down Pero’s spine.    Lang was too comfortable, too sure that he still had a card to play, for it to be completely bogus. He had to have something up his sleeve that the Spaniard hadn’t noticed.    And since the best way to hurt him was to hurt you, it must have something to do with what was happening to you.

   “I wanted it to be a surprise, you know. I had it all planned out.    A big reunion.    But now I fear that it’s gonna be a much more unpleasant affair. Effective, though.”

   “What are you talking about?” Pero finally questioned, and the man laughed heartily at him, utterly pleased that he’d apparently managed to trick him somehow.

   “You still don’t see it? Come on, think about it. Do you really think that I’m stupid enough to go after the one thing you hold dear, with fucking lawyers?    No, no, no… I’m well aware that it takes more than that to stop you.    I will concede that I underestimated just how far you’d go and how good of a killer you really are, but it was glorious to witness.”

   “It will be the last thing you see,” Pero growled, and his smile did fade a little then, but the smugness was still there in his eyes.

   “Yes. I suppose it will. I certainly can’t stop you,” he admitted, and there was something eerie in his voice at that last sentence. Something amazed, almost. “In fact… I’m certain that the only one that could even have a chance at stopping you… is you.”

   Suddenly, that creeping feeling that he had, graduated into full-blown, ice-cold dread, even before his mind got there.

   “Or, perhaps…” Lang conspiratorially whispered, putting his hands down on the desktop and leaning forwards as he saw the effect that he was already having on his attacker, “…someone just like you…”

   Pero was physically shaking all over with how hard he was trying not to hear the unspoken words, the taunt and the possibility that simply could not be.    It couldn’t be.    He was dead.    But then a final whisper, spoken from a mouth that was begging to be broken at this point, made it all real, and inescapable.

   “…family.”

   He stopped shaking. Stopped breathing. Unable to function because it hurt too much.    Everything just hurt, from his brain to his toes to his heart.    Tears burned his eyes with emotions too strong and too muddled to quantify, but within all that pain and sorrow, anger finally screamed the loudest.

   If there was any bone left unbroken in Kevin Lang’s body after he’d gone at it with both his fists and a stone paperweight that he’d grabbed from the desk, it would be a minor miracle.    Not that he cared to find out.    Leaving that building, covered from head to toe in blood and brain-matter, all he cared about was finding you.

   Because even if he still struggled to believe it, the fact was that if Lang had been telling the truth, there might not be any way to save you.

----------

   “Hey, I found something,” Cody announced as he walked into the Detective’s office and closed the door behind him.

   “In the tax records? Already?” she sceptically wondered as he sat down across from her.

   “Yeah, because I figured I’d start at the beginning, and this was among their first annual records.    Anyway, like eight years ago, this factory where Bee supposedly killed that guy, is bought up by this newly created company Useful Reuse, and among the first things that they paid for, was a consultant by the name of Logan Aldridge.    Now, first off, I looked up that name and it seems totally made up, but more curious than that… look at how much they paid this non-existent person.”

   He held out a piece of paper to her then, and she read the line that he’d highlighted with a yellow marker.

   “Whoa. Almost two million for a consultant?” Kate questioned, and the kid kept going.

   “Exactly, so I looked a little deeper, and check this out,” he said while handing her another paper. “This guy, whoever he really is, racked up hundreds and thousands of dollars in medical care alone, all of which was billed to the company, and all of which this little start-up could somehow afford, even in their first year of production.    I haven’t been able to find any discrepancies within the actual finances yet, but I thought this was interesting enough to let you know.”

   “It certainly is. Good work, Cody.    So, we have a person that someone really wanted on the payroll, enough to pay through the nose for, only to then also spend copious amounts of money on to get him healthy.    Which begs the question, what makes him that important?”

   “Well, if you look at industries, for instance, the highest paid and most valuable assets are the one’s that have extremely specific knowledge, or rare skillsets.”

   “True. So, what would a packaging factory dedicated to recycling, need a specialist for?” she pondered, and Cody cleared his throat.

   “Are we really thinking that that’s all they were doing?” he asked, and she was once again left with the decision of how much to tell him.

   “No, they were actually a front for a previously very successful company of mercenaries,” she admitted, and his entire face turned into an O.

   “Seriously?!”

   “Very much so. But stay with me now, kid, because I think we’re on to something here,” Kate pressed, and the officer tried to reel himself in. “What mercs need is to learn from seasoned killers. Warriors. People that have been in the types of situations that the new recruits would eventually face.    And where would you find someone like that?”

   “The military, or black ops. CIA maybe…” Cody suggested, and the Detective nodded.

   “If so, it could explain the medical bills and even the fake identity.    Let’s say you wanted to hide a person so completely that the rest of the world thought they were dead. Starting with someone that was badly injured in action is a good place to shop, because with the right connections, it wouldn’t be that hard to fake their death.    But then, you’re also buying a person that’s badly injured.    However, if you could then get that person past their injury and any lingering mental problems, then you’ve got a hardened fighter working for you.”

   “Someone with real life experience and skills that no theoretical training could teach anyone. It makes sense.”

   “Yeah. Except for one thing…” she pondered, and the kid was on the edge of his seat.

   “What’s that?”

   “I know for a fact that this company didn’t do stuff like that eight years ago. More recently, maybe, but not back then.    This particular company was successful because they recruited kids off the streets, training them in ways that no one else has ever done, or been able to duplicate.    Hiring some random veteran wouldn’t have helped them in any way, the only thing they would’ve paid that much for is…” she trailed off, as her mind followed the logical conclusions, slowly arriving at a disturbing possibility.

   “Is… what?”

   “Fuck me sideways…” she breathed in mild shock, because if she was correct in her assumptions, this story was about to take a seriously gnarly left turn.

   “Kate?” Cody was getting nervous just watching her, and he still had no idea how disturbing this might be about to get.

   “Holy fucking god, I hope I’m wrong about this, but we need to go to the cemetery right now,” she barked, no longer caring all that much about how deeply the young officer was getting dragged into this mess, because frankly, she needed someone beside her to let her know that she hadn’t gone crazy.

   “Okay, but why?” he asked as he got up and followed her to the door.

   “Because we need to dig up a body, and you better fucking hope that it’s there.”

----------

   You’d gotten to the planned stop in good time, had your little meal and rested for about half an hour, before getting up and soldiering on.    It was around 1am when you finally reached your father’s lands, and took a minute to orient yourself and make sure that you knew exactly where you were and how to find the hidden bunkers.

   But just as you’d reassured yourself that you were on track, you froze.    There was no real reason for it, you weren’t sensing anything specifically frightening or unnerving, but you still hesitated.    Because if there was someone on your trail, if your instincts were correct, then you were about to lead that person to literally everything that mattered to both you and Pero.

   You’d considered that before, of course, weighing your options over and over as you’d trudged along, finally deciding that if there was an immediate threat, you weren’t strong enough to take it on alone.    But now that you were standing there, facing the reality of making such a potentially impactful decision, you just couldn’t do it.

   As much as you needed them for your emotional strength, it dawned on you that putting all of you in the same place would make you too vulnerable, and you just couldn’t take that risk.    Your heart said to go to your father’s house, for shelter and warmth, but in your head, you knew that it wasn’t safe. Even Pero had opted to leave it when you’d been under attack, because there were too many ways for someone to get in.

   So, with no other option, you turned towards the deeper wilderness to the east, the mountains and biting cold, treacherous ice and desperate cougars.    He’ll find me, you thought to yourself, hoping that it would be true, even though hope was beginning to fail you. Because it was fear that made you turn.    It was fear that pulled you away from everything that you held dear, but not really the fear of losing them, so much as the fear that it would be your fault.

   You didn’t know how you could ever live with a regret that dark, so you set off into the night, begging the shrouded stars to keep you safe, for the sake of your baby, but also for Pero.    However, you’d walked only about three hundred yards when Groot suddenly signalled danger, stopping and raising the hair on his withers.

   And before you’d had a chance to react, he’d quickly moved to shield your right side, taking a few steps forwards and baring his teeth.    You still couldn’t see what he was warning you about, so you dropped to one knee and hunched down, just as he began to growl at whatever it was that he sensed.    Then, a figure started to move maybe fifty yards away, slowly coming closer.

   If they hadn’t moved, you never would’ve spotted them, they were that well camouflaged against the landscape. But they still must’ve moved closer than they could’ve been while following you, or Groot would’ve reacted sooner.    For whatever reason, your decision to change direction must’ve prompted this shift, drawing this person out, probably to try and force you to disclose where your family was.

   Reminding yourself to control your breathing, you shifted the stiletto that was still hidden within your mitten, so that you were holding it ready to stab out forwards.    But watching your pursuer slowly emerge from the dark, like some demon out of a horror film, was very effectively draining your courage.    And it didn’t help that as they grew nearer, revealing that it was a man wearing a self-made winter camo-suit, everything about him screamed stone-cold killer.

   He wasn’t wearing any guns, just a hunting knife in his belt, like you, which had to mean that this guy was more than capable of killing you with his bare hands, whether you were armed or not.    But you weren’t going to give up without a fight, regardless. And since you’d have no chance of beating him in a run, you took your backpack off and threw it to the side, before standing up.

   When he was just thirty feet away, Groot gave him one bark in warning. His way of saying that one more step would be one too many, and the man stopped.    You weren’t going to try and reason with him, because everything you were seeing in his behaviour suggested that he wouldn’t care, if he even heard you.    And you were right.

   Because suddenly, without you noticing how he’d even moved, he was wrestling with Groot on the ground, stabbing at him, trying to find a spot outside of his protective vest. But the canine didn’t make it easy for him.    The man growled and spat when large teeth clamped down over his upper right arm, the one holding the knife, easily biting through the layers of fabric.

   But he hadn’t hit the artery, so he let go and then instantly went for the man’s throat instead.    Except, once he let go, the man had suddenly moved again.    You were locked in place, watching, absorbing, trying to understand how he could move like Pero did, because no one could, but it obviously wasn’t him.

   Then Groot reacquired his target, and this time, their frantic wrestling tore the man’s headgear off.    The canine already had the upper hand, and was about to deliver a killing bite, when a powerful voice sounded in the night.

   “Groot, stop!”

   And the dog instantly obeyed, because the voice belonged to Pero.    He came running from the direction of your father’s house, so he must’ve driven there and then went looking for you.    You were immediately relieved to see him, despite finding him absolutely covered in blood, but you kept from engaging with him or touching him, even as he took position right in front of you and then called the dog over.

   But then the relief gave way to confusion, because it made no sense that he would want to spare your attacker.    And taking a closer look at him, you noticed that he was trembling from head to toe, like a newborn calf.    The man had just burned half a city down and yet this one person was making him shiver.

   “Pero…” you whispered, wanting to ask him about it, but too worried about distracting him.

   He didn’t respond at all, he just kept staring at the other guy, so you followed his gaze and found that your attacker had gotten back on his feet and was holding his upper right arm tightly, trying to stop the bleeding.    And then you saw his eyes.    Bright blue and glaring at your partner as though he wanted to make him die slowly.

   But that wasn’t the worst part.    The worst part was that you knew those eyes.    You’d never known the man, but you would never forget those eyes and all the pain that you’d seen in them whenever you’d met him the street or seen him in the cemetery.

   “Oh, god…… William?”

===============

Link to Part 20

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

@idreamofboobear @deadhumourist @prostitute-robot-from-the-future @sjdraws-00 @shsoba05 @radiowallet @thisshipwillsail316 @myfavpedrothings @cannedsoupsucks @bluegalaxyprime @tintinn16 @winter-fox-queen @shadesofnerdlygrace @tanzthompson @little-mrs-morales @hotchlover @gallowsjoker @cosmicbreathe @criminalmind1927 @harriedandharassed @bilibiche @anditsmywholeheart

[sirowsky]

@scorpio-marionette Ooooooh, that's a neat comparison! Good thing he isn't controlled by the devil, though.

Part 18 - To War

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Things take something of an unexpected turn after you've been arrested, as Pero decides that he's had enough of other people meddling in your lives.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM.

Word Count: 5677 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 19

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   In a perfect world, where people couldn’t be bought or coerced into breaking the law, Pero might’ve believed that you would be safe within the legal system. That you could never be wrongfully sentenced.    But this was not that world.    Here, corruption was very real and not even the goodness of a person’s heart was enough to keep them safe.

   And he was not about to leave your fate in the hands of such a flawed system.

----------

   Kate was impressed by how you’d handled Pero in that situation.    Even after how much time she’d spent around him now, the Detective was still thoroughly unsettled by his mere presence, and could only stand her ground against him for as long as he wasn’t actively threatening her.    Which he could certainly accomplish even unarmed and without a single word spoken.

   It was an involuntary response, brought on by the instinctive knowledge that he was a predator far superior to just about any other, even among animals. And that all it took to provoke him, was placing any form of obstacle on his path.    But that wasn’t what you saw or felt from him.    Somehow, you didn’t seem to have ever feared him as much as everyone else did, and it confounded and baffled her.

   But it was also admirable.    Your relationship was something far beyond the norm, and while Kate couldn’t see the things that you saw in the man, she could certainly appreciate how special it must make your connection to each other.    Which also meant that she was at least somewhat understanding of how important you were to him.

   She had no intention of angering him, so she’d been relieved when you’d allowed her to take you in, and quite shocked that he had allowed it to happen.    But she also knew, with every ounce of her wits, that he wouldn’t tolerate this situation for very long, so her goal was to get this done as quickly as possible.    The video had already been reviewed by an expert, your file had already been gone over by the chief, so for now, it was just a matter of sorting through the facts available.

   Because the video alone wasn’t enough to convict you of the crime, and especially not when there was no physical evidence tying you to the crime scene, and no apparent connection between you and the victim or anyone associated with him.    Plus, your criminal history was spotless, save for one or two parking tickets.    No one in their right mind would believe that you could kill a man in cold blood, based solely on five seconds of video.

   “Alright, hon, let’s get this over with,” she told you once you got to the station, unbuckling herself and getting out of the car before turning back to let you out as well.

   She hooked her left arm under your right one and led you inside, stopping by the front desk to sign you in.    But just as she put the pen down, she got a really creepy feeling and quickly scanned the room, not even sure what she was searching for, and predictably finding nothing wrong.

   “Kate?” you asked after a moment, probably wondering if she was losing her marbles.

   “Sorry,” she answered, although she didn’t know what she was really apologizing for. “I’ve got us set up in interview room one. This way.”

   She brought you into the room and opened one of the cuffs to lock you to the table instead, in accordance with procedure for suspects of violent crimes, and you calmly adjusted yourself in the metal chair, getting as comfortable as you could.

   “This shouldn’t take very long, but would you like some coffee or something?” she asked once you were settled.

   “Water,” was all you responded, so she left you there and headed for the water cooler by the coffeemaker, out in the bullpen area.

   On her way back, she stopped by her office to retrieve her file on you, but just as she’d grabbed it and started moving back towards the door, something about the room made her stop.    She turned in a circle, looking for the cause, and her eyes landed on her computer.    The screen was active.

   She hadn’t touched the keyboard or the mouse, so it should’ve been black, but the dark blue login page with the white box for entering the password was glaring at her.    Feeling decidedly unnerved, even though there was every chance that it was just another detective that had borrowed the computer for some reason, she turned and left the office, heading straight for the observation room that connected to interview room one.

   “Hey, George,” she greeted the officer that would be in charge of the surveillance of the interview, sitting behind two screens in the otherwise dark little space. “Is everything ready?”

   “Just waiting on you, boss,” George replied, without taking his eyes off the video feed that was streaming live from the other room.

   She took a moment to just look at you through the one-way mirror, admiring your ability to stay calm, despite sitting handcuffed to a table, about to be accused of murdering a man that you had in fact killed.    It was more than enough to make anyone squirm, and especially someone that had lived as sheltered a life as you had, until recently.

   That kind of stillness usually came from acceptance or defeat, but for some reason, Kate felt like this was neither.    Oddly enough, she felt like she was watching you prepare for something, although what that might be, she could only guess at.    She turned away from the glass, reaching towards the door that led directly into the other room, but then froze when her brain alerted her to danger somewhere in her periphery.

   She reflexively looked up to find out what it was, and her heart stopped.

   Because not even six feet away, just behind the other officer and half hidden in the shadows, Pero Tovar was glaring at her.    And like a deer in headlights, she just stared back, unable to think or react because somehow, it seemed like moving would be a death-sentence.    Then she blinked, and he was gone.

   Her heart restarted with a jolt, suddenly sprinting through her chest and she had to lean back against the door to keep from falling over, while doing her best not to hyperventilate.

   “Jones? Are you okay?” George asked from his seat, completely oblivious to the danger that he’d just been in.

   She wasn’t sure exactly what Tovar’s intentions were, only that he was obviously really fucking angry and clearly ready to do just about anything to keep his woman safe.    It was highly likely that the only reason why the Detective was still alive was because he recognized that this wasn’t her fault, and that killing police officers would probably only make things worse.

   But she was also certain now that he must’ve come here to break into her computer and find out who it was that was accusing you, and she was quite ready to believe that he’d succeeded in finding that information.    He had probably only snuck into the little observation room to make sure that you were okay, before he set off to end this, once and for all.

   Kate didn’t know any details about the Falcon company, since it didn’t officially exist, so all she had to go on was what tidbits of information that she’d gotten while helping you fight them, none of which was of much use.    The lawyer that had made the accusation clearly represented someone who had deep pockets so this could be a bigger plot than she’d previously imagined, if other companies had been invested in the Falcons, which come to think of it, was entirely likely.

   And if so, then Pero was about to go to war with the corporate world.

   She suddenly felt sick, and had to swallow a few times to keep her breakfast down, as she tried to imagine just how many heads would have to roll before the two of you would be free of his past.    And for the briefest moment, she contemplated just walking over to her chief’s office and coming clean about all of it, from the severed hands, to Pete, to the local muscle that she’d helped to dissolve in Dean’s backyard.

   But it wouldn’t make any difference.    Pero wouldn’t stop, and honestly, the only real ending she could see was if he managed to tear the heart out of this whole organization.    So, she took a calming breath, and wiped the cold sweat from her forehead before giving George a firm nod.

   “Just my stomach acting up. Probably just ate something bad. I’ll be fine,” she assured him, and he didn’t question it.

   But when she walked into the interview room a minute later, you looked at her with a very peculiar expression, and she was suddenly convinced that you could see on her face exactly what had just happened.    The next moment, however, you’d schooled your features into that same calm acceptance, leaving the Detective wondering if that apparent serenity could be an act.    If so… it was one hell of a performance.

----------

   He hadn’t meant to let so much of his rage fall on Jones, but seeing you in that room, trapped and chained, had reminded him so much of seeing you tied to that chair in the old train station.    It had taken every ounce of self-control that he possessed, to merely walk away without breaking you out and taking you with him, but all the control in the world couldn’t stop the anger.

   All he could do was try and direct it at the person or people that were really threatening you, and to that end, going to the precinct had born fruit.    Pero had never gotten along very well with computers, and avoided them whenever he could. But over the years as a merc, many assignments had included securing sensitive data from a target, so he’d had to learn a few things about breaking into secure systems.

   The name he’d found in the Police database was Reginald Gorman, along with an address, so naturally, that was his next stop.    Leaving you in the hands of the Detective was not something he did lightly, though, and should he return to find you in anything but perfect condition, there would be hell to pay.    Which was why he didn’t feel particularly guilty about scaring Jones, because at least she’d gotten the message, loud and clear.

   Unfortunately, but also unsurprisingly, the address wasn’t local. It was the same city where the Falcon HQ had been, which meant a three-hour drive one way, and he did not have time for that.    But lifting the spare keys to the Police helicopter that stood at the ready in a hangar just four blocks away on the outskirts of town, only took seconds.

   Sure, it would be easily traced and quickly reacquired, but he only needed it to get there. He’d find other means of getting back, with or without it.    It had been a long while since he’d last flown, but the machine was a common model, and the pre-flight checks brought back all the old routines and helped to familiarize him with the controls.

   The officers and pilots that had been present at the hangar were alive and well, albeit probably in need of some pain medication.

   Reaching the location revealed that it was a large office building, exactly as he’d expected, and by then it was bustling with activity, since it was right around lunchtime.    He’d turned the radio off to not have to listen to the insistent communicator trying to get him to land immediately, and he didn’t bother checking any flight traffic around the city, opting instead to use his eyes and the radar to keep from hitting anything.

   He knew that by the time they’d gotten people and vehicles in place to intercept him, he would already have left the helicopter behind, so the only thing that answering their calls would accomplish, would be giving them a voice to connect to the thief.    The building had a helipad on the roof, and sure enough, he was already inside, checking the registry for which floor to find his quarry, when he eventually heard another helicopter approach.

   The target, Reggie, was in his office when Pero reached his floor, and he smiled at the sight of him, because this guy was clearly a corporate shark, and men like that were always overconfident.    He might be a bigshot in his community, but against the killer that now observed him, he was little more than a pebble on the road.

   Watching and waiting, picking his moment, the Spaniard managed to gain access to his computer as well, but he couldn’t find the information that he sought, which meant that it was time to switch tactics.    The shock on Reggie’s face when he looked up into the mirror above the sink in his private bathroom, to find Pero mere inches behind him, was all the proof he needed that this man posed no greater threat to him than an ant under his boot would.

   But to keep his mind in that shocked and fragile state, Pero quickly kicked the inside of his ankle, really hard, breaking it and sending the man tumbling to the floor.    Before he could even scream, his attacker had him pinned, with his hand around the man’s throat, constricting his air, which together with the pain, instantly formed tears in his eyes and made him entirely incapable of coordinating his efforts to free himself.

   “Shhh…” Pero hushed at him, while easily countering an attempted strike towards his head. “I’m not here for you. Tell me who you represent.”

   “Wh-ha-…” the man coughed when his attacker eased up his grip around his throat just a fraction.

   He was clearly confused, which could be because he was currently getting oxygen deprived, or perhaps because he really didn’t know who the man before him was. In which case, he was simply a patsy.    But that made no difference, Reggie still knew the information that he was after.

   “Who told you to bring that video to the Police?” he pressed, and the man froze for just a moment, and then terror flooded his features.

   “You-re… Tovar…” he brokenly wheezed, clearly aware now that his attacker wouldn’t be offering him any relief, whether he played along or not.

   Pero waited patiently for the man to scramble his thoughts together and formulate a response, without softening his grip even a fraction.    But the guy apparently found a vein of defiance then.

   “I’m… a lawyer! You’ll pay… for this!” he chokingly tried, even though he had to know that his efforts were wasted.

   “You could only know who I am if the person that sent you was one of the investors in the Falcons, because you could never afford to be yourself.    And no lawyer would be dumb enough to involve the Police to investigate the corrupt company that you work for yourself, unless you had assurances from someone much more connected than you, that those records would not be found, and was being handsomely rewarded for playing decoy.    So, tell me who sent you,” the Spaniard growled, using his free hand to punch the guy in the stomach.

   “K…Ke-vin… Lang!” he finally gurgled out, and Pero’s grip hardened.

   “The fucking Lang-gang?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question that required an answer, it was merely a confirmation that the corporate world was as smart as it was epically stupid. “What’s the play?”

   He did loosen his grip a bit then, because this would require a longer answer, and because Reggie was just about ready to pass out.

   “Ih…” he started, but Pero immediately cut him off.

   “If you say the words ‘I don’t know’ to me right now, I will dig your eyes out with my thumbs.”

   The man knew that he meant it, evident by how badly his hands started shaking.

   “L-Look, man… All I know… is that… they’re after you,” he coughed, trembling all over now from the adrenaline spike and shock to his system. “And t-they want you… angry. Unhinged.”

   Hearing that only made Pero smile again, because anyone who thought that he could ever be manipulated into playing anyone’s puppet, clearly didn’t know the first thing about him.    And that meant that Lang, for all his businessman wits, did not have any idea of what a monster that he had set himself up to be hunted by.    He knew that you weren’t in their clutches yet, which meant that he had no reason to fear his own darkness this time. No reason at all to hold back or try to control his beast.

   His only concern now was getting to them fast enough that they wouldn’t already have managed to complicate things for you.    Because they wouldn’t have come after you at all if they didn’t already have a plan in place to make sure that you would rot in prison for the rest of your life, and he had to make sure that this threat was gone before that could happen.

   It was a fairly dumb play by them, given how easily he could’ve thwarted their efforts by just killing Kate and running off with you.    But that would also have meant forcing you away from everything that you cared about, and they must’ve realized that he loved you too much to ever do that to you.

   That was still their mistake, though.    Because while he was indeed unwilling to let you fall victim to his problems, he was also entirely capable of getting rid of those problems on his own.

   Kevin Lang had attempted to start up a rival mercenary company to the Falcons, called POP, which apparently stood for “Party Of Predators”, but their success-rate had been atrocious in comparison and the company had been struggling from the start.    So, it made perfect sense that Lang would’ve pounced on the chance to own the Falcons, opening up opportunities to get his own men better trained and his reputation in the criminal underworld a significant boost in status.

   All of which Pero had destroyed when he’d killed off nearly all the recruits.    And you had taken care of the rest. So, they weren’t just using you to get to him, this was also vengeance on the both of you.    Which meant that you’d been right to play along until your family had been safely hidden away, and a shiver went through him at the thought that he’d nearly ignored your demand before going after you to the station.

   But his problem right then wasn’t back home, because for the time being, his family was still safe.    He finally let go of Reggie, and the man drew a deep and raspy breath, starting to cough violently with the sudden relief.    But his respite was brief, as Pero had no intention of leaving anyone involved alive, proceeding to snap his neck mere moments later.

   He heard the commotion begin just as he left the floor, when someone walked in and found the corpse, but he kept walking, seemingly without a care in the world.    Because it made no difference.    His aim was already on the next target, mapping the route in his mind, how to get there, and how to secure his victory once he did.

   Stepping out of the building, he quickly located a parking lot and a suitable vehicle, approaching it as though he owned it.    He straddled the modern motorcycle and quickly got it started using a digital hack that a car-thief had taught him a while back.    A helmet was hanging on the handle, so he put it on and drove off fast, zigzagging through traffic on his way across town.

<><><><><><><> 

   Kate sat opposite you, with a file and a laptop in front of her, as well as an empty coffee cup and a notebook full of scribbles.    It was nearing dinnertime and you were hungry and tired, but you ignored that. You needed to stay sharp so as not to accidentally say something that could incriminate yourself or your family, or even the Detective herself.

   You knew that she was on your side, though, because she did her best to make it seem as though she was seriously interrogating you, without using any of her knowledge against you.    She’d showed you the video footage and while it was of good quality, the camera had been far enough away that you were still not in perfect focus, so the argument could be made that it was merely someone who resembled you.

   She had also gone over most of your personal history, emphasizing your lack of a criminal record and upstanding reputation within your community, all without making it sound as though she was praising you in any way.    But she was also sneaking in clues for your benefit within her questions. Like going over names associated with the Diggle brothers, wanting to know if you’d ever heard them before.

   Obviously, she already knew that you probably hadn’t, she was just letting you know what names were being uncovered in the research that was going on in the bullpen outside, with little bits of new information being brought to her as the hours passed.    But after she’d suggested a break and then came back after about twenty minutes, one of those names had apparently caught her attention, because she was carrying another file, still leafing through the information, so it had to be fresh from the printer.

   “Do you know anything about a man named Kevin Lang?” she asked as she sat back down.

   “No. Unless you’re talking about the recycling-guy. I’ve seen the ads,” you said, recalling some ten years back when a new company that specialized in recycling plastics had settled down in the neighbouring city, becoming an overnight success.

   “I am talking about him,” Jones confirmed, and you had to raise your eyebrows at that.

   “Wait… you think the Lang-gang is somehow involved in this?” you almost laughed, because the adverts had been so tacky and ridiculous.

   But internally, your mind was working fast.    Because it quickly occurred to you that that company would’ve been a perfect front for a covert smuggling operation or mercenary group, and the timing of its sudden appearance and instant profit was at the very least suspicious.

   The factory itself was automated and much smaller than one might think, which was why it didn’t really stick out even though it was situated in a very respectable area of the city’s business district.    And the fact that it was automated meant that no one would bat an eye at people coming and going from a front office, seemingly only ever there for meetings, rather than any actual work. Clients could be concealed as potential investors.

   The company would also have permits for use of large quantities of chemicals, provided they kept their emissions under control, not to mention the fact that it would be very easy to hide weapons or other goods among the recycled products, as they were shipped all over the world.    Hell, they could probably hide people too.

   And from what you knew of what Pero had uncovered during his conversation with the brothers while he was captured, it did seem like Lang could be one of the investors that had tried to save the Falcons.

   “I think that Kevin Lang has an interesting history,” Kate continued, still going through the papers in front of her. “He seems to have come out of nowhere, becoming a corporate giant with nothing but one relatively small company at his disposal.    You don’t find that odd?”

   “Honestly, I don’t really give a shit. What does this have to do with me, anyway?” you pressed, hoping that she might be able to reveal how she’d connected the dots here.

   “The lawyer that brought us this video and the accusation against you, works for a company called Useful Reuse, and the location where the video was taken is one of their three packaging factories.    Now, we just discovered that Useful Reuse has recently done some business with Lang’s recycling company, which naturally makes me wonder if he could be the one pulling the strings here.”

   “But why would Kevin Lang come after me? I don’t know him…” you questioned, but Kate quickly put things in perspective for you.

   “If you did indeed kill his people, then why wouldn’t he?” she countered, and you didn’t have a good response for that, because it was fucking true.

   However, before you could come up with a plausible lie, the door opened and a uniformed officer popped her head in.

   “Hey, you need to see this,” she declared, nodding towards something outside in the bullpen, and Kate got up to follow her.

   “Be right back,” she said as she left, but for some reason, something eery crept over your skin just as she walked out.

   Whatever this was, it wasn’t good.

----------

   She’d always known that he was dangerous. From the very first time she’d laid eyes on him, she’d known that he was deadly, probably more so than any other person that she would ever meet.    But as she watched the live newsfeed from the neighbouring city, Jones was still unable to comprehend that one man could ever be so destructive.

   Of the bodies that she’d helped to get rid of, most had been killed by Dean’s dogs, and the ones that had fallen at Tovar’s hands had been killed quickly and efficiently by throwing knives or stabbing wounds.    She had never really witnessed the real scope of his skillset before.    But she was seeing it now.

   Entire office high-rises in flames, people slaughtered in the streets, car-chases, helicopters shot out of the sky… it was a warzone.    And somehow, she knew that it was all him.    That the dozens of maimed and murdered people that were being found by the hour, all had something to do with threatening you.

   Her suspicions were confirmed when just minutes after she’d walked out into the bullpen, she found out that one of the buildings that had been destroyed was Kevin Lang’s recycling factory.    Half an hour later, it was also revealed that the other places that had been attacked were companies that Lang either owned or did business with.

   Pero Tovar was cleaning house, smoking out every rat and bug that had ever been associated with the Falcons, and he wasn’t just willing to take down an entire city to do it, he was actually capable of it.    The local police wasn’t even in the game. He was running circles around them, keeping them chasing ghosts, which ironically also kept them safe because it meant that they were perpetually several steps behind and too late.

   At this rate, it would be over by nightfall, and by then, she doubted if anyone would be able to find a single shred of evidence linking you to any factory or crime, save for the video that was currently in her possession.    And he would come for that too, it was only a question of when.

----------

   She didn’t come back until almost an hour later, and she suddenly looked pale and just generally unwell, which puzzled you.    You’d heard commotion outside, but nothing alarming. People talking heatedly, but not loudly enough that you’d been able to make out their words, or walking back and forth quickly, as if looking for or preparing for something.

   “What’s going on?” you asked, trying not to sound too concerned.

   But she seemed to struggle to speak at first, which wasn’t like Kate at all.    Sure, she’d often take a second to contemplate before answering a question, but you’d never once seen her actually not find the words to say what she was trying to say before.

   “There’s been, uh… an incident,” she finally said, and her voice was trembling, which only further worried you.

   You leaned forwards, resting your elbows on the table, starting to fear that she was about to tell you that something terrible had happened to Pero and doing your best to steel yourself against it.    But then she squared her shoulders, almost as if she’d rediscovered her confidence, or perhaps just figured out a suitable course of action.

   “This interview is going to have to be postponed, for the time being, and since I don’t have enough grounds to charge you with a crime, I’m gonna cut you lose.    But I’m advising you to stay in town and keep yourself available, is that understood?” she rattled off sternly, and you suddenly got a feeling that she was actually scared out of her mind.

   Not about whatever this incident was concerning, but simply about being in the same room as you.    She got up and rounded the table to unlock the cuffs and put them back in their dedicated pocket on her belt.

   “Understood,” you nodded slowly, while realizing that you really had no idea what the hell was going on here.

   “Then you’re free to go,” she declared, before moving to open the door. “I’ll be in touch.”

   She ushered for you to leave and you stepped out of the room and into the bullpen, hearing the door close behind you while you took in the grim faces of the officers around the open desk area.    The hushed but urgent voices and the almost tangible fear that seemed to make the air stuffy and the atmosphere electric.

   It took you a few moments to notice that they were all occasionally gesturing towards the TV that hung on the furthest wall to your right, which must mean that whatever was going on had made the news.    So, while you slowly made your way to the exit, you turned your head to peek at it, and then ground to a halt without even noticing.

   Your gaze was trapped, locked on the violent scenes that played out in real time, showing fires raging and people running scared. Police desperately trying to maintain order, without even knowing what the threat was.    The headlines questioned if it was a terrorist-attack, or perhaps a gang-conflict that had gotten out of hand, but you knew that they were wrong.

   You knew it because Jones knew it. Because her behaviour made so much more sense now.    But more than that, you knew it because you’d seen it in his eyes when you’d looked back at him as the Detective had driven you away.    You’d seen the full scope of just what he was willing to do in the name of protecting you, but most importantly, his unborn child.

   Pete had only been a hint. A desperate and rage-fuelled chaos that had stripped him of all thought and reason, whereas this was precision.    This was everything that he’d been taught, by experts on both stealth and open conflict, as well as how to get inside the head of his target, and he was using every bit of it to wage war on whoever had put you in this position.

   You watched, mesmerized by the sheer skill that he possessed, how during just one minute of footage, he was actively bringing an entire city to its knees, and while you were aware that it should’ve scared the life out of you, as it had Kate, you were only afraid for him.    Afraid that it would get out of hand, that you’d lose him to an errant bullet from either his enemies or the police.    The violence itself was shocking, yes, but that still only came second.

   With tears in your eyes, you finally tore your attention away from the screen and turned back towards the front desk, hoping that no one would find your reaction to the footage strange or telling in any way.    And when you stepped outside, and the crisp winter air flooded your lungs and brought clarity to your mind, you remembered that your father and best friend were tucked away somewhere, waiting for news, and decided to make that your priority for now.

   Pero would track you down no matter where you went, so your only concern was whether it would be safe for you to try and find your family, or if there was still a chance that you could be leading an enemy to them.    But right then, something bumped against your leg, and you looked down to find Groot standing there, wagging his tail and grinning at you.

   Kneeling beside him, you gently ran your hands down the sides of his head and then hugged him close, feeling the reassuring solidity of his frame lean into you, and all at once, everything felt so much better.

   He’d still been in your car the last time you’d seen him, so Pero really had been at the precinct earlier.    You’d guessed as much, after seeing the lingering fear in Kate’s eyes when she’d first stepped into the interview room with you. You’d assumed that he’d made an appearance, either to gather intel or just to make sure she knew that he would hold it against her if something happened to you.

   But he’d apparently also needed to make sure that you’d have some protection in place, before he left you to put his deadly plan in motion.    He must’ve hidden the dog somewhere outside and ordered him to stay, trusting that the canine would break that command if he saw you.    It warmed your heart to have him there with you, but right then, your head was primarily in fight mode, informing you that this also gave you a good tactical advantage.

   Because Groot could not only tell you if someone was following you, he could do that while simultaneously tracking and locating Dean and Abby.

   “Okay, my bestest boy…” you said to him, pulling back and meeting his eyes, “…time to vanish.”

===============

Link to Part 19

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