#Tyler Rake fan fiction

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found - Chapter 30

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

It's a lot of dialogue. Sorry :(

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @residentdormouse @fanficanatic-tw @kmc1989 @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/139296199

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you’d lke to be added :D

****

“I figure in a couple of days we’ll go into town. Get you and Millie all the things you still need.”

His voice is raw and husky; laced with both sleep and contentment as it rumbles deep within his chest. Scarred and misshapen knuckles repeatedly skim the length of her spine; their naked bodies pressed tightly together, caught in a mess of rumpled sheets and tangled limbs. Spent and sated; droplets of perspiration littering their skin and gathering at their temples and the napes of their necks. Their lovemaking had been uncharacteristically slow and tender; a combination of reconnecting and worshipping one another’s bodies and his desire to not cause any more discomfort as she continues her recovery.

“It’s a pretty lengthy list.” Her head rests on his chest; eyes closed as the fingers of one hand lazily trace the tattoo that graces his ribs. “We didn’t exactly come with much. Lots of things were left behind. At Alessio’s.”

“Doesn’t matter how much there is. I don’t care how many lists there are. Whatever you guys need…fuck, whatever you guys WANT…we get. Simple as that.”

“You’re going to create a hell of a predicament for yourself,” she chides and repeatedly brushes the tip of her nose along his collarbone. “People are going to think you hooked up with a gold digger.”

“Yeah, right,” Tyler chuckles, palm briefly lingering at the small of her back, calloused fingertips drifting over the curve of each buttock. “Because there’s just so much gold to dig for.”

“You know what people are like. They talk. It’s what they do.”

“I don’t give a shit. You should know that by now. Besides, you stuck around when I didn’t even have anything to offer you. Just tons of baggage and a shack in the outback. I think it’s safe to say you’re not with me for money.”

“Of course, I’m not with you for money.” She presses a series of kisses along his jaw. “I’m with you for your body.”

“As ancient and crumbling as it is?”

“It’s beautiful.” Lightly scraping the fingernails on one hand down his chest, she speaks between kisses and gentle nibbles on the side of his neck. “So…so…so beautiful.”

“And fat.”

She laughs against his Adam’s apple. “I did not call you fat. I called you thick. And I said it with love and admiration. And insane amounts of animalistic lust.”

His fingertips glide across her shoulders, then down the backs of her arms.“My favourite kind.”

“Mine too.” She rests her head in the nook between neck and shoulder, nose pressed against the long-healed bullet wound in the side of his throat. Her eyes closed as she reaches up to comb a hand through his longer strands of hair; allowing them to slip between her fingers before repeatedly curling and twisting sections around her index and middle fingers.

“Whatever you and Millie need, we’ll get it taken care of. Doesn’t matter how long the list is. Gotta take care of my girls, ya?”

“I like how that sounds. ‘Your girls’. There’s something so sweet about it. So…romantic. In a Tyler sort of way.”

“I can’t believe you’d call me romantic and sweet in the same sentence. What did I ever do to deserve that?”

“Listen, I know you have a reputation to uphold, but you DO have your moments. Where you’re just the softest, loveliest, cutest man on earth. You bring your own brand of romance to the table. And it’s perfect. For me, anyway.”

“Ever thought maybe you’re the one that brings all that out? That I’m not like that with everyone?”

“I already know you’re not. In the same way that I know how lucky I am. I get ALL of you. The REAL you. You’ve never hidden that from me. Not even in Dhaka.”

“I’ve never felt a reason to hide anything. Even back then. Something told me you were good people. That I could trust you. And believe me, I hadn’t felt that way about anyone in a long time. If I ever even did.”

“You trust Nik. And Yaz.”

“That’s different. That’s pretty much all business. Related to the job. I know that they always have my back. That they’ll step up if things go bad.”

“You trust them with me, don’t you? And Millie?”

“Not in the way I trust myself with the two of you.”

“That’s because you know what you’re capable of. You don’t second guess your skills or the things you can do. And you’ve always been protective of me. EXTREMELY protective. OVERLY, at times. Now add Millie to the mix…”

“I know that no one can take care of things the way I can; that the two of you are safest with me. Because I won’t fuck up. I won’t let that happen. Someone even thinks of coming near you and Millie, it’ll be the last thing they do, believe me.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. That everything just stays calm and peaceful. That we can just let Nik and her people handle things in New York while we do our own thing here. I just want to concentrate on us. And Millie. On being a family.”

“We’ll just take it one day at a time. Concentrate on getting past what happened.”

“Do you mean in New York City? Or me taking off and never telling you about Millie?”

“Look at me…” Pushing a hand into her hair, he gently tugs on the dark tresses; encouraging her to lift her head from his chest. “...I forgive you. I know you’re having a hard time accepting that, but I do. Yeah, sometimes I’m still pissed and sometimes it hurts like hell. But I DO forgive you.”

“Just like that? Just so easily?”

“I love you. I never STOPPED loving you. And you had your reasons; for making the decisions that you did. I don’t pretend to completely understand them. Not right now, anyway. But one day I will, I’m sure.”

“I really did do it to protect you. I didn’t want anything happening to you., Tyler. And I never would have forgiven myself; if I permanently lost you because of a mistake I made. It just sucks that in the end, all I did was hurt you.”

“That’s not entirely true though, is it? I mean, I AM alive. Nothing happened to me. And things would have gone really bad if the High Table had shown up while I was there. So you DID do the right thing. If you hadn’t left, we wouldn’t be here right now. And Millie wouldn’t even exist. They wouldn’t have cared. If you were pregnant. It wouldn’t have stopped them from killing you.”

“I don’t even like thinking about that. Her NOT being here. She’s everything I ever wanted. And everything I don’t deserve.”

“There you go selling yourself short again. You deserve so much, Esme. You’re not the monster you think you are. Far from it.”

“Boy, deja vu. I seem to remember saying those EXACT same words. More than once.”

“And I learned, didn’t I? It finally got through to me.”

“You’re a lot better, that’s for sure. You’re not filled with as much self-hatred as you used to be. You know what that means, don’t you?”

“What?”

“You really can teach an old dog new tricks.”

Tyler smirks. “You are such a bitch.”

Esme laughs when he aggressively slaps and pinches her ass, then gives a content sigh when he kisses her; long and languid and deep, naked limbs sliding along one another and against the cool, wrinkled sheets. Her breath soft against his skin when she once more rests her head on the centre of his chest; her fingers drawing continuous circles around his navel while his repeatedly comb through her hair.

*****

He finds himself teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; placing a forearm across his torso, her chin resting upon it as she peers up at him.

Pressing a kiss to her nose, his hand slides to the nape of her neck. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How have things been? With you?”

“You mean in general, or…?”

“In the last two, three years. That’s when you started scaling back on things, right? Trying your hand at a more normal life.”

“Nothing’s been normal about my life. Not for a long time. And especially not since you left.”

“I mean stuff like firefighting. And starting your business. How HAVE things been?”

“Guess I overestimated your spying abilities,” he teases and skims his knuckles across her cheek. “I thought you knew everything there was to know.”

“My spying stopped at your personal life. I knew the basics; the firefighting and how you started your own business. To be honest, I think I was scared to venture past those things.”

Cradling her cheek in his palm, he brushes the pad of his thumb over her lips. “Scared? Of what?”

“Finding out you were with someone. I know that sounds pretty stupid, considering I’m the one who fucked everything up. You had every right to go on with your life; to meet someone and fall in love and everything else that comes after that.”

“I was already in love. With YOU. And that wasn’t going to change.”

“Were you with other people? Other than Delaney.”

“Maybe in the biblical sense.”

“THAT I expected. For you to go back to sowing your wild oats all over the place.”

“Wasn’t all over the place. Just the vast majority of the northern territory. Well, the western part of it, anyway.”

“Oh, lovely. Does this mean I’m going to go to the grocery store and meet up with all kinds of women you’ve bumped uglies with?”

“I never pissed in my own front yard. It would have been too fucking awkward; running into a bunch of one-night stands.”

“I am marrying a whore,” she laughs, and presses a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. Briefly capturing his bottom lip between teeth when she pulls away.

“I promise you won’t run into any of my conquests while picking Millie up at school or grabbing something at Maccas.”

“Good. Because the last thing I want is to be sharing stories about your dick and its abilities while I’m in line at the store, waiting to buy shit tickets. “

He arches a quizzical brow. “Shit tickets?”

“Toilet paper.”

“And you say us Aussies have weird slang.”

“You know how long it took me to get used to the words you’d use in conversation? Or even your accent for that matter? It wasn’t that easy; trying to decipher exactly WHAT you were saying half the time. I remember how strong it got; when we were living in The Kimberley. I guess it was from being home so much.”

“Think it was easy getting used to you? You’ve got a pretty wicked accent yourself.”

“I most certainly do not.”

“You do.”

“I’m from Colorado. People from Colorado do NOT have accents.”

Raising his head from his pillow, he presses a kiss to her brow. “Trust me, babe. You do.”

“So other than Delaney…” A fingertip drifts over the scar that runs over the bridge of his nose. “...it was just one-night stands? No relationships?”

“No relationships.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to be in one.”

“Didn’t want to be in one or couldn’t find anyone worthy enough to be in one with?”

“A mix of both, maybe. I didn’t want anyone else, Esme. Not in that way. A serious way. I wanted YOU. And if it meant I waited forever or you never found your back…”

“You would have found someone eventually. Someone that you’d fall madly in love with. Marry, have a family…”

“No. I wouldn’t have. Because that is everything I wanted with YOU. Not anyone else.”

“You don’t think you could have learned to love her? Delaney? That you could have moved on and…”

“How could I move on when I was still in love with you? When I always would be in love with you. And why are we even having this conversation? This is supposed to be the start. Of everything. Of US. And talking about this…”

“I’m just curious. Trying to fill in the gaps, I guess. Because I love you and I want to know what I missed. Even if it makes me uncomfortable.”

“You didn’t miss much, believe me.”

“Do you like it? Firefighting?”

“It’s a job. The pay’s decent. Got a little bit of edge. Keeps me busy, at least.”

“You’ve never been one to sit still for very long. Not that surprising you’d thrive at something that keeps you on your toes all the time.”

“I don’t know how much it keeps me on my toes. Not the busiest area. We don’t get a lot of action. I do get a lot of cats out of trees, though.” He gives a playful wink. “And ladies love a guy in uniform, so…”

“I’ve yet to see you in uniform, but I bet you’re hot as fuck. Especially in your turn-out gear.”

“I didn’t think you’d be into that kind of thing. Seeing as your brother is a firefighter.”

“Believe me, Tae. Nothing about you could ever remind me of my brother.”

His eyes close as her fingertips explore the scar on the left side of his forehead and the second one lower on his cheekbone. It’s a form of intimacy as its purest and most innocent of roots; the soft and tender touch of a lover who adores and worships you. Who knows every inch of your body; every blemish, every imperfection. And it’s a closeness…a level of trust and vulnerability…that he’s never experienced with anyone but her.

“What about the business? I assume that’s doing pretty good.”

“Better than I ever thought it would. Got a lot of regular clients, and more and more are coming aboard all the time.”

“Do you have people that work for you?”

“I have a few full-time guys. That deal with the heavy-duty stuff; concentrate on the real manual labour. And a handful of students who help out on weekends and during school breaks. They do small repairs, landscaping stuff, things like that.”

“Who’s in charge while you’re on your little sabbatical?”

“Koen’s my right-hand man. The guy that I trust with everything. Things are being taken care of. I’m not worried about it.”

“I knew you’d find something you’d be amazing at. You always liked working with your hands; doing your own repairs on your truck, putting up the walls and installing the new windows in that little shack of yours.”

“Of OURS.”

“Millie’s really going to get on you, you know. About that treehouse. And she’s definitely going to want to be your little helper. She loves to create. Build things. She’s got a real talent for things like that.”

“I’ll have to get her own stuff. Some tools and a toolbelt, little hardhat, some steel-toed boots.”

“She’ll love that. And probably drive us completely nuts trying to fix everything around here.”

“I’ll start her out slow. Small projects. Birdhouses, flower boxes, some planters for the garden. I promise I’ll keep her away from the power tools.”

“You’re going to have to really watch out for her. Because that child? YOUR child? Isn’t just headstrong, she is completely fearless. I wonder where she gets THAT from?”

“Her mother.”

“Hardly.”

“Well, it’s not from me, that’s for sure. ‘Cause there’s plenty of things I’m afraid of. And they all seem to involve you.”

Sighing, she presses a series of soft kisses along the scar that mars his left shoulder. “I know it did a real number on you. The accident. Seeing me like that. It’s definitely bothering you way more than you’re letting on.”

“I’m not shy. I admit it fucked me right up. All the things I’ve been through? All the people I’ve gone up against? I’ve never…EVER…been that scared. Seeing you like that? Not knowing if you were alive or dead? And if you were alive, was someone going to show up to finish things off? That was…rough.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m really proud of you. For how you handled things. Not just with getting me out of there and making sure I survived, but everything AFTER that. How you just took control. Stepped up. You were banged up and exhausted and hurting and you did what you wanted to do. For Millie. Just focused on her. Took care of her.”

“Why wouldn’t I have done all that? She’s my baby, too. My little girl.”

“It was all still so fresh. So new. You’d barely had a chance to catch your breath. Coming face to face with me, finding out you were a dad again. You had your entire world turned upside down. You…”

“No. I didn’t. I got my entire world BACK.”

His honesty is raw. Real. Powerful. Succeeding in both taking her breath away and bringing tears to her eyes.

*****

“So is this where I get to ask questions now?” His fingers move in slow, methodical circles on the small of her back. “When it comes to what you’ve been doing the last five years?”

“What more is there to know? Didn’t we cover all the bases?”

“Not quite.”

“There’s not much more to tell. Not anything of interest, anyway.”

“You didn’t work or anything? What did you do with your spare time?”

“I picked up jobs here and there. For Nik. Things I could just do from home. Background checks, basic research and tracking people down. Nothing that would draw a lot of attention. So I could stay under the radar. Or try to, at least.”

“Well, you did a pretty good job hiding from me, that’s for sure.”

“We’ve talked about this. I wasn’t hiding from you. Not intentionally, anyway. It was all so complicated. I had to protect Millie. Both of her parents were still in the life. In some way. And we’d both burned a lot of bridges and made a lot of enemies. I couldn’t take the chance that someone would come after her. I just couldn’t.”

“There were other reasons, too. You know there were.”

“Selfish ones. Staying away had nothing to do with you and EVERYTHING to do with me. You know that. We’ve been through it how many times now? It was never about you, Tyler. Not in the way you think it was. At first, it was about protecting you. Then Millie. And finally, it became about myself. Because…to make a long story short… I was a stupid, insecure little girl.”

“You’re not any of those things. It was just a messy situation. All around.” Tangling his fingers in her hair, he pulls her towards him, lips meeting the bridge of her nose. “What else did you do? Other than helping out Nik?”

“Just took care of Millie, mostly. Devoted myself to being a mom. I joined a couple of those mom and baby groups; just to get out of the house and socialize and try and make friends. When she was a few months old, I even signed us up for yoga classes and water aerobics. Millie always loved the water. She was always so comfortable in it. Confident, even.”

“She’s gonna love it here, then. Trips to the beach, being able to swim in the ocean.”

“Except for the fact the thought of an encounter with a shark will be exciting to her. She’ll probably pray for it to happen. I am telling you, that girl is fearless. She’s so much like you, Tyler. More than just the physical. There’s so much of you in her. And it was kinda bittersweet, you know? Seeing you every time I looked at her but knowing I couldn’t actually be with you.”

“I mean, you could have been. But…”

“But I was a stupid little bitch. Like I said. That’s something that will eat at me for the rest of my life, believe me.”

“I don’t want it to. And I’m sorry I bring it up so much. Make you talk about it. Explain yourself. That’s not fair.”

“If anyone has the right to bring it up, it’s you.”

“I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to be better than that. For you. And Millie.”

“I remember the first time you told me that. How I made you want to be a better man.”

“It’s true. You do.”

“I never considered you a bad man in the first place. A good man who made bad decisions, yes. But bad to your very core? Not even close.”

“You always have been full of shit,” He teases, and curls an arm around her neck, drawing her into a long, deep kiss. His lips against her temple when she settles her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed as his fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her bicep. “Tell me about the guy.”

Her hand slips lazily across his collarbone, down his chest, briefly settling on his stomach before travelling back up again. Finally coming to rest on the side of his neck, nails lightly and repeatedly scratching against the skin. “What guy?”

“The one you dated. In New York. The cop. Or detective. Or whatever the hell he was.”

Esme raises her head from his shoulder, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “How did you know about him?”

“A little birdie told me.”

“A little birdie, huh? What did you bribe her with? Two scoops of mint chocolate chip instead of one? Unlimited Bluey viewing on your cell phone?”

“I promised her a Porsche when she turned sixteen.”

“I wouldn’t put anything past you. You’re going to spoil her rotten.”

“I didn’t have to promise her anything. She just offered the information.”

“Out of nowhere? She just suddenly started talking about my personal life?”

“I MAY have asked her about it.”

“Mmmhmmm.”

“Okay, so I did. I DID ask her. If you’d ever had a boyfriend. I was curious. I wanted to know.”

“Curious, huh?”

“And a bit jealous.”

“Just a bit?”

“A lot.”

“Why are you like this? When it comes to me and other men?”

“Like what? What am I like?”

“Self-conscious. You’ve always been. Even at the very beginning of things. And believe me…” Slipping out of bed, she stretches languorously before padding towards the dresser; a pair of plaid pyjama bottoms and tank top folded neatly on top. “...you do not come across as someone who would be self-conscious.”

“Did I say you could get out of bed? That you could put clothes on? There’s a strict ‘no clothes allowed’ rule in this room. Once that door closes…”

“I know what Millie’s like; if she wakes up in the middle of the night. She’ll come looking for me. And the last thing we need is her seeing both of us in all our naked glory.” Climbing into her pyjamas, she tosses his discarded sweats in his direction. “And don’t do that. Deflect. Answer my question.”

“I’m old.” He grimaces as he swings his legs over the side of the bed, moving slowly as he puts one leg into the pants, followed by the other. Knees cracking when he stands to pull them up. “ My brain is mush. I already forgot what the question was.”

“I asked why you are the way you are. When it comes to me and other men. Why do you always get so bent out of shape about it?”

“I don’t get bent out of shape.”

“You do.” Removing her hair out of the back of her tank top, she moves back to bed; fluffing and moulding her pillows and arranging them to her specification. “And I don’t get it. There’s nothing for you to get prickly about.”

“Like you don’t get prickly about my ex-wife. Or Delaney.”

“Being curious is not the same as being prickly. What is your hang-up? When it comes to me and other people?” She gives a content sigh when she slips back into bed, settling her head on a pillow before rolling onto her side to face him. “It’s not like any of them are still in the picture. And even if they were, they still wouldn’t be a threat to you.”

“I don’t see them as a threat. I know what I bring to the table. It’s not about feeling threatened.”

“What’s it about then?”

“I just don’t like it. You being with other guys.”

“I mean, I was married, remember? I’ve had boyfriends. And girlfriends, for that matter.”

“Since you left?”

“I’m talking about throughout my entire life. And did you honestly think I wouldn’t date? Or at least try to? That I would have just spent the last five years completely alone?”

“You know how you said you were okay with me going on with my life? Meeting someone else? Falling in love, getting married, all that shit?”

Esme nods.

“I’m not that gracious. Not by a long shot. I didn’t want you with anyone else.”

“For the rest of my life?”

“Well...yeah.”

“You’re being ridiculous.” She reaches for him. “Come to bed.”

“So was this guy the real deal? Someone you could have moved on with? Gotten your ‘always and forever, happily ever after’ with? Totally forget about me and…”

“Tyler, I was never going to forget about you. I carried your child inside of me. Gave birth to her. She looks just like you. Kinda hard to forget you when I’m looking at your clone every damn day. Add the fact that I was still in love with you and always would be into the mix…”

“Would you have moved on with him? Gotten married, had more kids? All of that?”

“All of that was what I wanted with you. ONLY you. So no, none of that would have ever happened. I didn’t want that life with anyone else. Just you. And if that meant I never got any of that, oh well. Now…” She pats the empty spot beside her. “...come to bed. Please? I’ll answer whatever questions you have., but just come to bed. Because you standing there like that? It’s making me incredibly anxious.”

He relents. Laying on his side with her back pressed against his front and forearm draped across her collarbone. And he presses a kiss to the back of her head before resting his cheek against hers. “What was his name?”

“Don. His name was Don. And he was a detective. Homicide.”

“How the hell did you ever meet him?”

“I worked a small job for Nik. Nothing serious. I had to find my way into the main evidence locker at One Police Plaza and steal some papers related to an old case.”

“What the fuck….?”

“Someone hired Nik because an old money laundering and embezzlement case they were involved in was going to be reopened. And if that happened, it was going to cause a big old shitstorm; he had some big-name contacts and clients of his own that would be exposed. Some really well-known people, too. Politicians, lawyers, judges. And if all that got out…”

“Heads would roll. Most likely literally.”

“Exactly. So Nik and Yaz created an entire persona for me. I had the credentials; photo identification, passport, fake driver’s licence.”

“Who were you supposed to be?”

“An agent with Homeland Security.”

“Jesus Christ. And you don’t consider THAT serious?”

“You know, for such a huge police department with apparently the best security in the country, they were sure easy to fool. It was like taking candy from a baby. I was in and out of there in ten minutes. Not even.”

“I don’t know whether to be impressed or pissed off. That you even put yourself in a situation like that. Especially with Millie in the picture. If you’d gotten caught…”

“But I didn’t. Well, not until about six months later. But that comes further in the story.”

“So the cop…”

“We met in the elevator. I was running to catch it and he held the door open for me.”

Tyler scoffs. “What a gentleman.”

She scowls over her shoulder. “I thought you promised you wouldn’t get prickly.”

“I’m not getting prickly. I just…”

“YOU asked,” she reminds him. “You wanted to know these things, right? You have questions. I’m just answering them. Do you REALLY want to hear this stuff? Or do you just want to be angry about something?”

“I’m not prickly. Or angry. I’m jealous.”

“Of what?”

“Of anyone that even looks at you the wrong way.”

“Oh for God’s sake…”

“I was never like this before. I never used to give a shit about this kind of thing. I didn’t care how many people my ex dated or fucked before me. Because I was always so far up my own ass that I knew I was better than anyone that came before me. Sometimes I miss that guy.”

“The guy you were before me.”

“I was a drunk and a drug addict before you. So, no.”

“You weren’t ALWAYS that way. You didn’t always have those issues.”

“But I was a prick in other ways.”

“I liked the guy you were when we met. Yeah, you were messy and you had your issues, but so did I. I wasn’t a picnic, either. We were both fucked up. But it didn’t stop me from falling in love with you. And staying that way.”

“And now?”

“Now I like you even more. I’m glad you’re not totally up your own ass, as you put it. I like that you’re not afraid to talk about the hard things. That you’re able to admit you’re self-conscious or…”

“I never admitted to that.”

“Or you’re feeling spiteful or hateful or jealous. I mean, as weird as it sounds, everyone should want their man to be that way. Just completely honest. Because it doesn’t do anyone a lick of good if they keep that all bottled up.”

“So what you’re saying is that it’s okay to be a prickly asshole.”

“Don’t push your luck, Tyler.”

Grinning, he =presses a kiss to her temple. “So, this guy…”

“What more is there to know? You asked how I met him. I told you. What more do you need?”

“You just chatted in an elevator and hooked up with him, or…?”

“He asked me out for an Irish coffee. I said yes. It was as simple as that.”

“Irish coffee, huh? So that’s what the kids are calling it these days.”

“We went out. One date turned into two, two turned into three. Three turned into a relationship.”

“A serious one, or…”

“I mean, we were exclusive. We didn’t date other people. We just…I don’t know…we just did our thing.”

“Did you do HIM?”

“Tyler…”

“I want to know, okay? I NEED to know.”

“Why?”

“Because I do.”

Sighing, she presses a kiss to his forearm, then rolls over to face him. “That’s not an acceptable answer for anyone over seven.”

“Did you? I mean, I think I already know the answer, but…”

“I didn’t sleep with him. And believe me, it wasn’t for lack of opportunity. I won’t lie to you; we did other things and I enjoyed them. I enjoyed them a lot, actually. It was nice; to feel beautiful and wanted and to have someone completely and utterly devoted to you.”

“I would have given you all that. I DID give you all that.”

“And I WANTED it to be you. More than I ever wanted anything in my entire life. But it wasn’t a good time. To just show up on your doorstep. It was all so complicated. Confusing. And I needed to protect Millie. We’ve both burned a lot of bridges, Tyler. Crossed a lot of really bad people. I couldn’t put her at risk. I just couldn’t.”

“But you can now?”

“So much has changed. We’re both walking away. From this life. And I know all of this probably doesn’t make much sense to you. But it makes sense to me.”

“And you couldn’t seal the deal with this guy because…”

“Because it wasn’t fair. To him. To let things get THAT serious. He was a good man and he was great to me and Millie. But I couldn’t give him THAT. That part of me. I just couldn’t. And he didn’t realize it and I never told him about you, but It was always a competition. Between you and him. Everything he did, everything he said. All I would think about is how YOU would handle things. The things YOU would say. And I tried; I really did. But he deserved better than that; a woman who thought of someone else every time he touched or kissed her. That wasn’t fair to him. He wasn’t a bad person. Far from it.”

“I kind of feel bad now. For handling the five years like I did. Me and my wandering dick.”

“Why would you feel bad? Those were my issues. Not yours. You had every right to go on; to deal with things however way you wanted to. You were the one that got hurt.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“It wasn’t easy. I didn’t want to leave. And I didn’t want all that time to go by; flying under the radar and keeping Millie a secret. But it was so complicated. The lives we were both living. It was never to punish you or hurt you. It was to protect you. And her.”

He nods slowly, considering her words. “So is that why things went bad? Between you and the cop? ‘Cause you wouldn’t pull the trigger?”

“He was very understanding. Very patient. He just assumed I’d come out of a bad situation and I just wasn’t ready for that kind of thing. And I didn’t bother telling him any differently.”

“So what happened? What made him walk?”

“You mean there’s something the little birdie DIDN’T tell you?”

“She did. But I’d rather hear it from you. How’d he find out? About who you REALLY were?”

“I told him.”

“That was risky.”

“Once I realized he was getting more serious and deeper into things than I expected him to, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I’d spent six months with him; half a year pretending to be someone I wasn’t.”

“Were you getting more serious about things? About HIM?”

“I mean, I liked him. I was attracted to him. And he was very good to me and Millie. He spoiled the hell out of her and she liked having him around; he took her to baseball and hockey games, they went to the zoo and the movies, he braved the Macy’s toy department more than once.”

“And I want to be happy about all that, but…”

“You weren’t there, Tyler. Through no fault of your own. Millie needed someone. A father figure. She wanted someone like that in her life.”

“She had someone like that. She had a DAD. That would have been there had he known she even existed.”

“And THIS is why I didn’t want to talk about this stuff. No matter what I say or do, it’s only going to upset you. You say you want to know everything, but deep down…”

“I have a right to know all of this stuff. I haven’t hid anything from you. About what I was up to in the last five years. I was totally honest about Delaney. It should go both ways, don’t you think?”

“I don’t want to fight. I get it; you’re hurt and you’re angry and you need to take it out on someone. I get it, Tyler. And I don’t blame you for feeling the way you do. You have every right to be pissed. But do you REALLY want to keep doing this? Bringing it up over and over again? Finding fault in everything I say? You tell me you want to hear these things and then…”

“I’m not trying to fight.” He uses his fingertips to clear hair away from the side of her face and loop it behind her ears, then presses a soft, reassuring kiss to her lips. “And I’m sorry. For acting like a prick sometimes.”

“I never said THAT.”

“Not in so many words.”

“I’m not trying to take away how you feel. You have every right to be pissed off. And hurt. You even have the right to take it out on me. But…”

“I don’t have that right. At all. And I don’t mean to do it. I know it hurts you. And you’re the last person I ever want to hurt, believe me.”

“We need help, Tyler. PROFESSIONAL help. Or we’re GOING to need it. To get past all of this. To deal with how we’re both feeling. You and your anger and your hurt and me and my regret and my guilt. I don’t think we can do it alone. Or that it’s healthy for either of us to even try.”

“You want me to see a shrink.”

“Not a shrink. A counsellor. And not just you. US. Someone who can sit with us and help us unpack all of this and work through it. I think deep down, you realize we need it. That kind of help.”

“If you think that’s the way to go…”

“I think it’s something we need to at least try. And then just go from there.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Including THAT.”

“Now that’s true love,” she teases, and presses a chaste to the corner of his mouth. “And I think it might do Millie some good, too. To talk to someone. She’s been through a lot; seen and heard things no kid should ever have to. I know she’s a tough little thing, but I also know she’s a lot like you; when it comes to shoving things down and pretending they don’t exist. I don’t want her growing up like that. And I know you don’t either.”

“I don’t. I don’t want that at all. Whatever she needs…whatever WE need…we’ll make it happen.”

Smiling, she kisses him; long and soft and sweet. And when she pulls away, his palm still cradles the side of her face; thumb repeatedly brushing against her cheek. “I didn’t love him.”

“I never…”

“You were going to ask. I knew it was coming.”

“Not even a little bit?”

“I was attracted to him. I cared for him. Deeply. But I didn’t love him. And I don’t think I ever would have.”

“He must have loved you. He just let you walk. After he found out the truth.”

“Maybe? I don’t know. He never said he did. Sometimes I felt, you know? And I wasn’t ready for that. I probably never would have been. None of it was fair to him; lying about who I was, allowing him to get so close, letting him think that maybe there was some kind of future…a happy ever after…in the cards. He deserved a lot better than that. A lot better than ME.”

“You’re not a horrible person, Esme. You’re…”

“I hurt people. Even the ones I love the most. It’s who I am. It’s what I do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it. You didn’t do things because you wanted to. You did them because you HAD to. It was just part of the job. If you didn’t lie about who you were, the ending would have been a lot worse than fucking up some guy’s ego.”

“I should have never gotten involved with him. I should have done everything possible to just keep my distance. But I was lonely. I wanted someone in my life. Maybe not to have a serious thing with; I didn’t want to live with someone or get married or grow old and gray with them. He made me feel beautiful. He made me feel wanted. I hadn’t felt that in so long. And if I couldn’t get it from the person I wanted it from, I had to settle. SETTLE. How horrible does that make me sound? Talking about another human being like that?”

“It doesn’t sound horrible. It sounds…”

“Needy? Desperate?”

“No. It just sounds…sad.”

“Sad as in pathetic or…?”

“YOU sound sad. When you talk about it. And you must have been sad when it was happening.”

“I missed you. Every second of every day. And it got worse when Millie came along. I had wanted to be a mom for so long. And I finally had this beautiful little girl. Everything I ever longed for. But I couldn’t share her with you. And that wasn’t fair. To either of us. Or you.”

“See? You did hurt yourself more than you hurt me.”

“You have no idea what I went through. I just tried to shut myself off. I was in love with someone I couldn’t be with. Through no fault of his. He’d done nothing wrong. So I told myself I’d never let that happen again. Get close to someone. That it was better if I just concentrated on being a mom. And that’s what I tried to do. I DID. But…”

“Then you met this guy…”

“All of a sudden, I wasn’t as lonely anymore. There was this man that wanted me. And no, it wasn’t nearly to the depths you did. But it was…something. And I desperately needed it. More than I wanted to admit. All I wanted was to feel something…anything…again. But the more I felt for him, the more I missed you. And that’s when the competition began. He was never going to be YOU. Not even close. No matter how good of a person he was.”

“Did he just walk away or…?”

“He was hurt. Rightfully so. It’s kind of a kick in the nuts when you hear something like that; that the person you’ve spent six months with was nothing but a fake. And he felt stupid; that he didn’t sense that there was something wrong or that there was something I was hiding from him. I told him not to take it personally. It wasn’t any fault or weakness on his part. I was just that good at my job.”

“You must have horseshoes up your ass. ‘Cause for him to just walk away instead of not locking you up…”

“Maybe he felt bad for Millie. Putting me away meant she’d have no one. And I don’t think he’s the type to do that to a little kid.”

“You know what I think? I think he was in love with you. That’s why he was so forgiving.”

“And I think you’re reading too much into things.”

“I can’t say I blame him, though. I know from personal experience how easy it is. And how fast it can happen.”

“Now I think you’re overestimating my appeal.”

“Not in the fucking slightest.”

A smile curves her lips, and she reaches up to sweep hair off his forehead. A hand on his cheek as she leans in to kiss him.

“Thank you.” The fingertips of both hands slide across her shoulders and down either side of her spine, gently squeezing her ass when his lips meet her brow. For telling me. About him.”

“Thank you for not totally losing your shit. I was worried there for a minute.”

“Oh believe me, inside I was throwing tables and punching holes in walls.”

“Because that’s healthy,” she chides, cradling his face in her palms as she presses a kiss to each corner of his mouth, his cheek, chin, and finally his lips. And when she pulls away, she finds herself rendered breathless by the way he regards her; the pure adoration and devotion that softens his face and sparkles in his eyes.

It’s overwhelming at times. To be worshipped and loved in such a manner. Realizing that you’ve become such an enormous and integral part of someone’s existence. Yet it’s a love that many fear will never find them; so beautiful and all-consuming and life-altering.

Running the pad of her thumb over his lips, she sweeps her knuckles along his jaw and then wraps both arms around him. Her body pressed tightly against his as she tucks her face into that favourite spot of hers; that secure, safe place between neck and shoulder.

“It’s always been you, Tyler.” Her breath is warm and sweet against his skin. “It will always be you.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fan fic #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Extraction

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Drabble Request - Tyler Rake - Prompt 16 - Preferred Mood: mostly passionate and intimate with just a touch of fluff and male savagery 💗 Thank you so much! 🤗

Hello! Why yes, I think I can manage that for you :)

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

"Fuck me," he breathes, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before opening again, watching his cock vanishing into your throat as he holds your hair back. "God, you give the best head."

Your eyes find his, winking up at him, releasing his cock with a soft pop, your tongue whirling over the head of his erection. "Hmm, I do, don't I?"

He snickers quietly, shaking his head. "There's that modesty I fell in love with." His hand tightens the grip upon your hair, his hips beginning to sway forward, looking down at you with a devilish grin. "Always look so pretty when I fuck that gorgeous mouth, always take it so fuckin' well."

You feel him begin to twitch against your tongue before long, hands grasping his hips and pushing him back, Tyler grunting with partial annoyance as he frowns at you. "I was enjoying that."

"Yeah," you breathe, kissing the vein that runs over his hip. "A little too much. Not ready for you to come yet. You gotta hold me down and fuck me for a while first."

"Nah," he sniffs, moving to the bed, lying down on his back. “I need you to ride me, babe. Right now.” 

"Well," you shrug, moving astride him, sinking down on the most perfect cock you've ever seen. "As long as I get this splitting my pussy, I don't mind."

He pulls you down to his level, kissing you softly, nuzzling your nose with his. "Good."

#tyler rake #tyler rake fanfiction #tyler rake smut #tyler rake x female reader #tyler rake x you #extraction #extraction fanfiction #extraction fan fiction #chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth smut #chris hemsworth fanfiction #chris hemsworth x female reader #chris hemsworth x you

[arrthurpendragon]

Hi!

I'm Sammie, and I write for the OC community. I originally started writing fan fiction MANY years ago over on another site. It was for the CSI:NY fandom and I absolutely loved it. Currently, I write for the Extraction/Tyler Rake fandom and have a series I've been working on for two and a half years now. I also have fairly rough drafts (handwritten in notebooks) for a Thor/OC fic and a Spiderhead/Steve Abnesti/OC fic.

#oc creator spotlight #fd: extraction #fd: marvel #fd: spiderhead #ocapp #oc community #oc fanfiction #oc fanfic #oc fic #oc fanfiction blogs #oc writers #chickensarentcheap tag

[justimagineitblog]

“I Can’t Lose You” Tyler Rake Fan Fiction - Chapter 2

A/N: Alright so here is chapter two everyone! Lot’s of tension and bickering and banter in this one - but also some pretty raw and tender moments towards the end as Tyler and Kate start to realise their feelingsssssss.... i hope you enjoy! :)))))))))))

I stop in my tracks immediately, the sharp pain jolting all through my rib cage like being stabbed over and over again with every step that I take. I curl over at the waist, my hands clutching at my side as if that’s going to do anything at all.

We’ve been jogging through a heavily wooded forest area, where I’ve been desperately trying to keep up with him. But he is a giant man, and as I watch him running I realise he has to be over 6ft, at least. Whatever his height is, all I know is that one of his strides equals about 3 of mine. It also really doesn’t help that each time my feet hit the ground, a sharp pain shoots up through my ribs.

I hear foot steps coming back my way, followed by Tyler’s irritated voice.

“You need to keep up”

“I would if you didn’t break one of my goddamn ribs”

“I didn’t break your ribs, trust me. But I can if you wan’t, then at least you’ll actually have something to complain about”

I glare up at him through the disheveled hair that has fallen in my face. I don’t even bother fighting back, as that would take energy I really do not have right now. The pain is clouding my wits, I can barely think.

Maybe it was the fact that I didn’t have anything to say back, or the fact that I cannot stand up straight without gasping in pain, but something alerts him that maybe I’m not over exaggerating about this. Because suddenly he’s kneeling down in front of me, telling me he needs to take a look.

“Let me have a look then” he nods, his face bored as though he’s just trying to get this over and done with to appease me. His hand reaches for my torso but I swat him away immediately.

“Don’t touch it” I hiss

He sighs “Look we need to hurry, just sit down so I can check it”

I reach out for the tree trunk beside me, grimacing as I lower myself to the floor in defeat.

“I’m just gonna look okay, I’m not gonna touch it” he reassures me as slowly takes the hem of my shirt in his hands and glides it upwards.

I watch his face change as my torso becomes exposed, his eyes falling over my ribs. He looks slightly taken aback at the sight, hanging his head.

“Ah fuck” he breathes, and I begin to panic.

“Is it broken or not?” I demand.

“No,” he shakes his head as he takes one last look at my ribs before carefully pulling down my top “But it’s starting to bruise… bad”

I watch his face closely. His once underwhelmed expression is now riddled with concern and guilt. On top of that, he looks angry, but not with me this time. No. this time he looks angry with himself. The air feels heavy around us now, and I feel like I’m looking at a whole different person. For the past hour that I’ve known this man he has been nothing but unforgivingly brutal. He has had no time for sympathy, and the only look I’ve seen on his face majority of the time is rage. My brain ticks at one hundred miles an hour as I try to comprehend how the man who killed a room full of people is now kneeling in front of me so sheepish and small.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise how hard I-“ he begins to apologise, his voice and face coated and dripping with shame. I almost can’t believe that the word sorry is coming out of his mouth. But suddenly a voice from his ear piece cuts in.

“Tyler somethings wrong, hold your position”

His eyes dart back to mine nervously.

“There’s someone else in those woods. About 100 meters out. They’re closing in on your position”

I can physically see Tyler’s stomach drop as the reality of the words set in. He immediately springs into action, holding out his hands to try help me up of the ground. As I stand up, the pain tears down my side. The only thing stopping me from crying out in pain is the fear of whoever is closing in on us. I might be in severe pain, pain that I don’t think I’ve ever felt before, but I’m not stupid. If we stay here now, we will die. Tyler will die. I don’t know this man. But I am not costing him his life. I can’t.

“Can you walk-“

“I’m fine” I lie, through clenched teeth. He hesitates, knowing that I’m blatantly lying as he stares down at me.

“Tyler, run” I growl. Taking my hand in his, we both take of in a sprint, back tracking the way we came in. We’re going back to the car. Abandoning all efforts to stay quiet, we crash through the bushes and leaves. This isn’t about stealth, this is about survival. The threat of someone who wants us dead biting at our heels, I have no choice but to keep up with him or we both die. I momentarily forget about the pain in my side that I’m sure is only being made worse by the countless tree branches that I’m crashing into as we run. But Tyler is the one taking the brunt of the tree branches and leaves that whip at us as he leads ahead, clearing the way. But everything almost seems to move out of his way as the brute strength and force of his body demolishes any obstacles in our path.

All noise seems to have droned out as my only focus is running with everything I have in me. That is, until the sound of a sharp, whizzing bullet flies directly above us. It misses us, but lodges directly into a the tree trunk that is only a couple of centimetres above our heads.

A heavy weight pulls me down to the ground, and I realise Tyler has dragged me down behind a large boulder for coverage. Both of us pant heavily, trying to retrieve what little breath we can. I stay crouched down behind the rock as Tyler fires a few rounds in the direction of our pursuer faster than the blink of an eye. Then, he turns back to me, desperately fumbling with his vest until he pulls of a grenades.

“When I throw this, run” he tells me firmly, as he rips the pin from the bomb. It feels like slow motion as his long arms peg the detonating bomb over the boulder and away from us.

I can barely hear him screaming at me to run as the sound of the explosive fills the air around us. We both scramble, fighting to get up of the ground and hit the ground running in an immediate sprint.

I’m not even sure if I’m running in the right direction, all I know is that I’m moving with every last fibre of my being. I keep my head low, my arms raise overhead in some kind of bid to protect myself from the bullets that are speeding through the air past us. My only indication to whether Tyler is still even with me is the sound of his crashing foot steps as he runs behind me. Suddenly there is a break in the wooded area we’ve been charging through, and we enter the clearing where the car is sitting.

“GO, GO! GET IN THE CAR” Tyler’s voice booms from behind me as I speed towards the passengers side. As I rip the door open and thrust myself into the car, I look back to see Tyler guarding me. Once I’m in he fires a few final bullets and suddenly he’s bursting into the drivers side.

Before I can even gather myself, Tyler’s foot hits the acceleration and the car lurches forward so ferociously it almost leaps of the ground. The back end of the car drifts, swerving left and right as the wheels spin out beneath it, before it suddenly kicks into gear and we take of flying straight ahead.

Without warning, we burst into streets that are filled and bustling with civilians. I can hear their screams they all fly out of our way. People are everywhere, and I can hear Tyler shouting for the countless people on motorbikes to move as we narrowly miss every single one of them. Boxes of fruits and products fall victim to us on our path of destruction as the car ploughs straight through them.

I’m so busy desperately trying not to smack my head on the roof of the car it swerves and bounces that I have no time to prepare myself when Tyler suddenly begins shouting countless profanities. I look up ahead to see the end of the road being blocked of by three police vehicles. Tyler slams on the breaks, the car halting so abruptly that only a miracle that my hands on the dashboard stop me from flying through the front windscreen. Without even a second of hesitation, Tyler shoves the gear stick into reverse with such haste that I half expect it to rip clean off.

“They’re police!” I exclaim as we speed backwards, away from them “Tyler stop they’re police!”

“No they’re not” he shouts over the now wailing sirens of the police vehicles that are surging after us. I furrow my brows at him as he spins the car around until we’re out of reverse, before taking off again.

I turn in my seat, looking back at the police in panic. I thought I could trust Tyler. Why the hell is he driving us away from them. I narrow my eyes, and suddenly see that those men aren’t officers at all. They’re dressed in black clothing; and it doesn’t take me long to realise that they’re have hijacked those police cars.

Chaos ensues as two of the cars spin out of control, colliding with food stalls and innocent by standers. The same voice from before bursts over Tyler’s radio speaker. The woman’s voice shouts directions to Tyler, telling him to turn right at the bridge. When I turn back in my seat, I’m met with a giant metal gate that we are only getting closer and closer to. With no sign of Tyler slowing down, I brace myself for impact, unable to stop myself from letting out a scream as we smash through it. I stare ahead in shock, mouth wide open as I realise we just smashed right through those metal gates, and are still alive. I look over at Tyler in shock to see that he looks completely unbothered by the fact that we could have just died. This guy is a goddamn maniac.

Suddenly one of the hijacked police vehicles rams straight into the back of our car, sending both Tyler and I lurching forward. We both look back in panic over our shoulders to see the man who was pursuing is in the woods, is now manically driving behind the wheel of that car.

“FUCK!” Tyler shouts, making a sharp turn to try and throw him off, but it doesn’t work. This only helps him gain in on us, as he begins to creep up towards the passenger side.

The sound of smashing glass bursts into the air and I look over to see that Tyler’s window has been shot and broken. Shards of glass cover us both, as the man fires of a few more rounds in our direction.

I see Tyler desperately fumble for the gun on his vest, but the second he takes his hands of the wheel we almost spin out. This man is going to fucking kill us if we don’t do something.

“Give me your gun” I feel myself shout suddenly, as I reach for his vest.

He shoves my hand away, before turning the car down into another street.

“I SAID GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING GUN” Using all my might I reach over and snatch the pistol from his belt. All in one movement I turn in my seat and angle myself out of the window slightly.

“GET BACK IN THE FUCKING CAR!” I hear Tyler scream at me, but I’m not listening. My eyes are locked on the driver behind us. The second he see’s me, he aims his gun at me, but I beat him to it.

Squeezing the pistol, I send a bullet flying straight for his head. As it smashes through the front wind screen it narrowly misses him, but the shock still distracts him and his wheels screech as he loses control of the car. This gives us a small advantage and a small window of time to get away from him. I feel a hand on my vest as Tyler tugs me, yanking me back into the car. He speeds up, putting his foot to the floor. I watch as the man behind us struggles to regain control of his car, fighting with the steering wheel until it finally spins out and he collides with the side of a building.

Tyler suddenly makes a sharp right turn, pulling us into a virtually empty back street.

“Out!” he shouts as we both scramble with great urgency and anxiety. He grabs my arm and we take off running up the stairs of the apartment buildings next to us. We rush up the stairs in leaps and bounds, constantly checking over our shoulders but there is no sign of anyone following us.

Just when I begin letting the smallest inch of my guard down, and attempt to catch my breath, it is quickly whisked away again by Tyler shoving me up against the wall.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing back there huh?” He growls in my face, pinning my shoulders back against the wall. This is a vast change from the worried Tyler back in the woods. The Tyler who looked guilty for causing that giant bruise on my ribs. Right now, with the look on his face, he looks like he couldn’t care less if he did it again.

I grab at his chest, trying to push him away, but of course I can’t. He doesn’t even budge.

“That little stunt you pulled back there could have gotten us both killed”

“But it didn’t! We’re here aren’t we!” I challenge him, my eyebrows raised. He shakes his head at me in bewilderment.

“Don’t EVER do that again? Do you hear me? If I fucking lose you I-” He catches himself before he finishes his words. I stare up at him, heart racing for what he was about to say. For what he stopped himself from saying.

“If you lose me what huh?” I stare up at him “Why the fuck do you care what happens to me?”

His chest rising and falling heavily as he looks down at me, our faces only inches apart. Our eyes locked on each other, I watch his internal battle. For a moment I see the smallest, fleeting hint of weakness. Of softness. Why is he looking at me like that? But it doesn’t last long.

“I need my fucking pay out. Try anything like that again and I’ll kill you myself”

But his voice sounds unsure. Like he doesn’t believe his own words. With that he gives me one final shove before stalking away from me to the other side of the room. I’m unable to take my eyes of him as I try to swallow and comprehend whatever just happened between us.

Just when I thought he showed me a moment of tenderness, of care, back in the woods. His normal disgust and hatred for me is back again. My supposed ‘rescuer’, who couldn’t hate me more.

He turns away from my slightly, busying himself with reloading his gun. As he does, my eyes fall over his arm - more specifically the blood that is covering one of them.

“Tyler you’re bleeding” I blurt out. It’s not a lot, but enough to show through his sleeve. Enough to do damage if left unattended.

He follows my gaze, looking down at his arm where blood is soaking through.

“Yeah a bullet will do that to you” I replies nonchalantly.

Thinking that he has been hit with a bullet I rush over to him, but he waves his hands, dismissing me.

“Relax, it just grazed me”

“You still need to cover it” I urge, completely baffled at how little he cares about this.

“Why the hell do you care?”

“Well I wouldn’t want you to miss your fucking pay out now would I” I scoff, watching as he rips the bottom of his shirt with ease until he has a long strip of fabric in his hands.

I expect him to fire back an insult, but to my surprise, he smirks. The tension easing a little, I also find the corner of my mouth curling up into a smile.

“Since you’re so worried, tie this around my arm” he raises his brows, holding out the fabric for me to create a tourniquet.

I snatch it from him, as he holds his wounded arm out to me. I try to ignore his eyes staring at me, trying to intimidate me as I wrap the shred of t-shirt around his arm. I also try to ignore the realisation that’s dawning on me at just how huge his arms are. They’re practically bulging out of his shirt. Making a knot, I pull tight. Tighter than I probably had to, but he deserves it for being such an asshole.

He clenches his jaw, grimacing in pain when I do so.

“Watch it” he warns me, but I shrug at his comment acting clueless.

“Come on, it’s just a graze, right?”

He stares down at me, his lips slightly parted to speak but no words following their lead. I know he see’s me as just a money grab. Some rich guys daughter who he needs to return home for a big case of cash in exchange. But that doesn’t mean he gets to treat me like an idiot.

I stare back up at him defiantly, not wavering under the firm grip that his eyes have on me. Then, if I’m not mistaken, his eyes flicker down to my lips. He quickly pulls them away from my mouth and back up ti my eyes, so fast that if I had of blinked I would have missed in entirely. But I didn’t miss it. I saw it.

I don’t have more than a few milliseconds to begin trying to understand what the hell that means when gun fire sprays the building we’re in. Immediately Tyler springs into action. The Tyler that was bantering with me just moments ago is gone, as the switch flips in him and he jumps straight into his stone cold soldier mode.

We both crouch down below the windows of the room as he grabs my hand and leads me out of the room. Once we are away from the windows we both stand, he lets go of my hand, replacing it with his gun. Standing protectively in front of me, we stalk through the abandoned apartment building, snaking through each room until he finds one with no windows.

He turns back to me, hand on the small of my back as he guides me into the room. Once we’re inside, he stands me against the wall - gently this time - and raises a finger to his mouth, signalling to stay quiet. I feel my ears prick as footsteps begin to approach from outside the room.

Tyler hides right out of sight in the door way, and I hold my breath, praying that he doesn’t get hurt. If something happens to him, not only am I a goner, but I will never be able to live with the fact that he died saving me. I can’t. The footsteps get louder and louder and I feel the anxiety in my stomach clawing its way up into my chest.

Suddenly, Tyler strikes forward, and the man hunting us down is flung against the wall. In a series of movements that happen entirely to fast for me to even comprehend, Tyler knocks the gun out of his hand and pins him against the wall so ferociously I can hear the mans bones cracking against the concrete. A knife appears in Tyler’s hands seemingly out of no where, and before my eyes I watch him plunge the blade into the man’s neck. He delivers three more fatal blows, slicing the bloody knife across the mans jugular vein over and over again.

And then, it’s over seemingly before it even began. The man falls to the ground, landing at my feet, with blood gushing from the wounds in his neck. Dead.  

I pull my eyes away from the dead body at my feet to look at Tyler, but there’s nothing much to see. He’s already moved on, completely dismissing the life that he just took like it was nothing. He signals for me to follow behind him in the hall way, and when I take to long he grabs my vest and forces me behind him. Staying so close to his back I may as well be attached to him, we take a few slow, quiet steps forward. But that’s only as far as we get before two more men come flying towards us from around the corner.

I stumble backwards as Tyler attacks the first man, taking only seconds to kill him with a fatal shot through the chest. When the second assailant approaches, Tyler combats him with his fists. It only takes one punch to disorientates the man, who stumbles backwards giving Tyler enough to aim his gun. I watch with my mouth open so wide in shock it my jaw may as well have touched the floor as Tyler fires a bullet straight through the man’s head.

Two bullets. He has killed two men with only two bullets in what feels like a matter of moments. Now that I’m learning how lethal Tyler really is, witnessing it with my own eyes, my mind flashes back to the room full of dead men that Tyler had mowed through to rescue me earlier today. Now that I’m seeing what he’s truly capable off, that doesn’t seem that far fetched. In fact, it seems like it would have been a breeze to him.

The sound of Tyler shouting my name rips me abruptly from my shock induced flashback. He lunges forward, scooping me up with one arm and planting me firmly behind him. It’s only once I’m being shielded by his giant stature that I see what he was yelling about. Another attacker had been coming up behind me with a gun, and I was second away from being just as dead as the men around us. But Tyler had stopped that. He had thrown himself in front of me, literally putting himself in the line of fire to protect me like it was nothing. Like it was a reflex. Muscle memory.

As Tyler wrestles with the man who almost killed me, movement to our left catches my attention. Realising another man is running towards me at full speed, I spin on my heels and begin sprinting. As I burst through apartment after apartment, I can hear the man hot on my heels. I have no plan. No where to hide. Just every atom in my body screaming at me to run. Until, I meet a dead end. As I burst into the room and head for the door that will take me out to the balcony that wraps around the entire apartment complex, I shake at the handle desperately, just to discover that it is locked.

Back pedalling as I fast as I can, I turn to run out of the room, but instead I smash straight into the body of the man chasing me.

“No, no, no” I begin to beg, each cry for mercy louder than the other as I try to back away from him. But I have no where to escape. With one blow he punches me, delivering a blow to my cheek so hard I can feel it swell almost immediately. As I stumble, clutching at my face, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around me, wrangling me to stay still and comply as he begins to drag me away.

All I can do is scream. When I do, the first and only thing that comes out of my mouth is Tyler’s name. It’s all I can say. Its the only thing that comes to my mind. Over and over again I scream, calling out his name. Begging, praying that he can hear me. That he will find me.

My arms and legs lash out maniacally, desperate to cling on to anything that will stop this man from taking me. Stop him from taking me back to my kidnappers. Stop him from taking me to my death. But something else stops him. One single gun shot bursts into air. Not only do I hear it, but I feel it. I feel it fly so close to my face that I can feel it’s hotness on my cheek. But it doesn’t hit me. Instead, my attacker suddenly goes limp.  His once suffocating grip on me going completely loose. As he falls, he takes me to the ground with me. We hit the floor with a thud, and the only reason I know I’m not the one whose dead is the fact that I can feel my goddamn ribs pounding even worse than before.

I look up to find Tyler standing in the doorway, his gun pointed at us. As soon as he knows the man is dead he drops his gun to the floor immediately, running over to me. I don’t know what it is, desperation maybe. Complete and utter fear. The fact that he had thought I was about to die. But for some reason when Tyler runs over to me, he scoops me up in his arms and holds me so tightly for a few moments that I can’t breathe. But I don’t care. As I’m enveloped in his arms, I’ve never felt more safe in my life. The sensation is overwhelming I feel like my heavy panting is about to turn into even heavier sobs.

“You’re okay, you’re okay I’ve got you” He chant’s over and over again in my ear, breathing heavily. For the next few moments we forget everything, clinging onto one another desperately. To scared to let go. 

He lets go momentarily, but only to move his hands to my face, holding it firmly.

“Are you hurt?” He panics as he scans me up and down, desperation on his face. When his eyes fall over the mark on my face from where I was punched he curses under his breath. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay” I nod and he exhales harshly in giant sigh of relief.

“You scared the shit out of me, yeah. Don’t ever scare me like that again” He tells me firmly as he can, but I can hear the poorly hidden shakiness in his voice.

As we stare at each other intensely, I see something I haven’t seen on Tyler’s face yet. Fear. He looks completely terrified. But not just terrified of anything… terrified of losing me… Everything he was saying before, about how he just need’s me for the pay check has gone out the window. No. In this moment, he couldn’t care less about his pay check, and there’s no hiding it. Right now, all he cares about is that I’m alive and safe, and in his arms. 

TAGLIST

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#tyler rake x reader #tyler rake imagine #tyler rake one shot #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake smut #tyler rake gif #tyler rake extraction #extraction 2020 #extraction netflix #netflix chris hemsworth #chris hemsworth extraction #chris hemsworth tyler rake #chris hemsworth x reader #chris hemsworth imagine #chris hemsworth one shot #chris hemsworth fan fiction #sam hargrave #chris hemsworth smut #alycia debman carey #alycia x reader #alycia debnam icons #alycia debnam carey x reader #alycia debnam carey one shot #alycia debnam carey smut #alycia debnam carey imagine #thor imagine #thor one shot #thor x reader #avengers #end game

[offbrandqueer]

My Virgin Eyes (Tyler Schied) *SMUT*

I lay on the couch with my feet hanging over the back, scrolling aimlessly through Twitter. I hear the front door open and shut, not bothering to move because I know it's Ethan or, Tyler. The shower turns on, I keep scrolling through my feed, liking fan posts and retweeting a few things. I get lost in my own little world until someone clears their throat behind the couch. I sit up properly and look to see who it is.

Tyler is standing there with a towel wrapped around his waist, hair curly and still wet. "Hi babe, how was work, blah blah blah." He says in a mocking tone.

I stand up and walk over to him, wrapping my arms around waist. "Hi baby, how was your day?" I ask, looking up at him through my eyelashes. He cocks an eyebrow at me, but returns my hug. "Seriously, how was your day?" I ask again.

"It was okay, better now that I'm home with you." He replies. I feel blush rise to my cheeks, we've been together for over a year and I still get flustered around him. He moves his arms so they're around my waist and pulls me into a kiss. Our lips barely connect when the front door opens and a gasp follows.

"Ah! Put clothes on! My god damn virgin eyes! Damnit Tyler!" Ethan yells, while laughing.

I pull away, "moment officially ruined." Tyler heads to our bedroom to get dressed.

"Sorry for being a cøck block Y/n." Ethan laughs, setting his keys on the counter. We both stand in the kitchen, chatting.

"It's fine, you'll probably regret it later, but not my problem." I reply. "How was your day?"

"It was good, we got a lot done. Filmed a few videos." He tells me. He talks about editing. I smile and nod, I'm a writer, it's like listening to someone speak Russian.

"Well, I'm gonna go to bed." I tell him looking at the clock: 9:30pm.

"Okay. Well see ya in the morning. Please don't be too loud?" He asks.

"No promises!" I call as I walk down the hallway. I walk into mine and Tyler's room, he's laying on the bed looking at his phone.

He glances up when I enter, looking back immediately. I grab a T-shirt and some shorts and head for the bathroom to change.  I ditch my day time clothes and sigh at the comfort of just wearing a baggy shirt and spandex shorts.

As soon as I change, I climb in bed and set my phone on the night stand. Tyler scoots over to me and pulls me to his chest. I roll over to face him.

"So baby, what'd you do today?" He asks me, taking my hair out of the messy bun it's in and running his fingers through it.

"I got some of the 4th chapter done and the publishing company called me. Apparently they want to market the book as 'teen fiction'." I tell him, my finger tracing shapes on his bare chest.

"Hm. So, what'd you and Ethan talk about?"

"You mean what did Ethan talk about?" I joke, he chuckles, "work, editing, so pretty much everything I don't understand."

"Well, since we're all alone now," he pulls me on top of him, "why don't we continue where we left off?" He connects our lips, his hands resting on my waist. I run my hands down his chest, he licks my lip asking for entrance, which I gladly give. I straddle his waist and unconsciously grind against him.

A low growl comes from his lips as he kisses me. I pull away for air and his lips make their way down my jaw and neck, stopping at my collarbone.

A breathy moan falls from my lips as he sucks and lightly bites. "Tyler." I whisper, grinding down harder trying to create as much friction as possible.

I feel him start to get hard beneath me. "I've been thinking about you all day babygirl." He tells me, his hands making their way under the hem of my shirt.

"Really?" I ask, kissing his neck.

"Yea." He groans, I find his sweet spot and bite the spot.

"What about me?" I inquire, continuing to kiss up and down his throat, leaving love bites in my wake.

"How good it feels being inside you. How much I just wanted to come home and fuck you senseless. How good you look when you moan my name." He tells me, his hand massaging my breasts as I moan and grind against him.

He pulls my shirt over my head and tosses it across the room, flipping us over so he's hovering above me. "I love you so much baby." He says, planting a kiss on my lips. As our lips move in sync, he pulls my shorts down, leaving my to shimmy them down my legs without breaking the kiss.

He pulls away first, "God you look gorgeous." He whispers.

"Come on babe, I need you." I whine, the wetness between my legs and the knot in my stomach causing me to beg for release.

"As you wish princess." He replies, one of his hands making its way between my legs, his thumb rubbing circles on my clit. My hips immediately buck up against his hand. He chuckles and slips two fingers inside me. "You're so wet already. I've barely touched you."

I just moan in response, his fingers pumping at a relentless pace. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull his face down to kiss him.

The knot in my stomach builds, as soon as it's about to break he removes his hand. "Fuck you." I breathe, pulling away from him.

"Whatever you say baby." He smirks, pulling his boxers down and kicking them off. He kisses down my neck and down my chest, capturing one of my nipples in his mouth, nibbling and sucking.

I let out a loud moan. He repeats his actions on the opposite side, before lining himself up and thrusting into me. We both sign at the intense pleasure.

He doesn't give me any adjustment time, setting a slow pace. I grip is bicep, digging my nails into the skin. "Faster." I whine. He obliges, speeding up his thrusts. We both moan and the feeling in my stomach builds again. "I'm close Tyler." I whine.

"Me too." He replies, crashing his lips against mine and speeding his thrusts up further. I buck my hips against him and move my hands to his shoulders, my legs wrapping around his waist.

I kiss down his neck and suck on his sweet spot. "Fuck babygirl, you feel so good." He grunts. Suddenly the knot breaks and I rake my nails down his back, moaning loudly.

"Fuck. Tyler." I breathe, riding out my high. His thrusts get sloppier and soon I feel him release. His face buried in the crook of my neck, leaving wet kisses and cursing under his breath.

After we both have come down, he rolls off of me and pulls me to his side. "I love you so much Y/n." He says in a sleepy tone.

"Love you too TyTy." I reply, cuddling next to him and drifting off to sleep.

#tyler scheid #tyler x reader #apacolypto 12 #teamiplier #imagine #smut #tyler schied smut #tyler schied imagine

[junker-town]

How the first-place Minnesota Twins can stay there

The Twins have a share of first place. This is unexpected.

The original headline was going to read “I’m writing about the Twins to check them off my list and feel better when I’m not writing about them in August” It would have been a cheeky, disrespectful headline. But honest. If the Twins are within three games of first place at the end of August, I will write fan fiction about Joe Mauer’s twins being rivals with Buster Posey’s twins at summer basketball camp, only to realize they have lots in common, which helps them band together against a common enemy, Mr. McGarnle, the mean-spirited counselor from across the lake.

Which is to say, I probably won’t be writing about the Twins much in August. Or twins.

But what if, though? What if? The Twins have a share of first place right now, and it’s rude not to pay attention to them. As such, it’s helpful to look at how the Twins could stay in first place. Dream big, it’s May. We’re all friends, here, and there are no wrong answers. What would a first-place Twins team look like?

Something like this ...

Miguel Sano would be a young Miguel Cabrera

This one is happening. It’s not that Sano is crushing the ball, which he is. It’s not that he’s hitting for a high average, which he is. It’s that he’s terrifying the rest of the league so much that he’s walking every fifth plate appearance, while showing the discipline to crush whatever does float through the zone. He’s leveled up, and he’s just 24.

Not only is he raking, though, but the anecdotal and empirical evidence is suggesting that he might stick at third base after all. The success of the Twins’ season doesn’t have to measured by a postseason berth. If Sano can turn into the kind of franchise player the Twins can plop down at third base for the next decade, it will be one of their best seasons out of the last five, regardless of how many they win.

Byron Buxton would be a young Kevin Pillar

That’s not an idle comparison. The only difference is that when Pillar was 24, he hit .206 with a million strikeouts, and no one was breathlessly complaining about him being a flop, which is what people like to do with the 23-year-old Buxton. Yes, it’s been a rough start to the season, but let me just put on my cherry-picking gloves and ...

... oh, heck yeah, .296/.441/.481 in his last nine games, with a 1:1 strikeout-to-walk ratio. Looks like he’s leveled up, too ...

Sure, that’s optimism that’s based in sample-size dust, and it’s probably a little premature, maybe by a year or two or three, and it’s possible that he’ll eventually befriend Joe Borchard on the Island of Misfit Tools. But if the Twins are still in the hunt after the trade deadline, it’s probably because Buxton is hitting just enough to let him transcend the glove-only label. He had a 91 OPS+ last year, so he’s almost there already.

He’ll still strike out more than a third of the time, but there’s a way for Buxton to be better than last year, when he was still valuable. If the Twins want to stick around, they’ll need him.

Someone, anyone, will have to pitch better behind Ervin Santana and Hector Santiago

You don’t need 500 words on why Ervin Santana won’t finish 25-0 with a 0.66 ERA. You know there’s regression coming and that it won’t bring orange slices and Capri Suns. At the same time, it’s probably time to admit that Santana is really good at his job and has been for years. I laughed at the contract, which means he gets to laugh at me now.

Behind Santana is Hector Santiago, who was acquired when the Angels asked themselves, “Is there any way to turn this starting pitcher into someone less reliable, older and more expensive?”, which is a classic thought exercise throughout baseball history. He’s been fine this year, just like he’s been for most of his career.

In reality, both pitchers should be traded at the deadline, with Santana bringing back some sweet prospects. But if the Twins are contending in July, these two pitchers will be continuing their strong start.

They’ll need help. Because every other pitcher behind them has been dreadful. Phil Hughes hasn’t been good for over two years now, and Kyle Gibson is looking as lost as he was last season. Adalberto Mejia, the rookie acquired for Eduardo Nuñez, scuffled early and was optioned back to Triple-A.

So if not those pitchers, who? Jose Berrios is dominating Triple-A, and it’s something of a stunner that he’s not up already. That’s one.

Tyler Duffey is thriving in a relief role, and the Twins might not want to mess with him. Nick Turley was such a good prospect that I didn’t even realize he was in the Giants’ organization in 2015, but he’s doing something weird in Double-A, with 36 strikeouts in 20⅓ innings, so he might have been bitten by Rich Hill under a full moon. Or maybe Mejia figures it out and contributes when he comes back up.

The particular names don’t matter. But if the Twins are going to contend, they’ll need Santana and Santiago to keep on keepin’ on, and they’ll need at least two more reasonable pitchers behind them. Berrios looks like he could be one of them. Finding the other complements in the rotation hasn’t been the Twins’ specialty over the last couple years. No time like the present.

Et cetera

In which the players you’re less familiar with become players you’re more familiar with. Max Kepler wasn’t one of the 1,521 players drafted in 2009, but he came out of nowhere to become a top-100 prospect before the 2016 season, and then he held his head above water in the majors. He’s looking like a modern-day David DeJesus right now, and Only 2000s Kids Will Understand How Exciting That Is. If he keeps it up, and a dozen other things go right, the Twins have a shot.

Robbie Grossman is doing what he did last year, and he’s doing it just a little more convincingly, with more walks than strikeouts.

Eduardo Escobar is floating around, taking over the Nuñez role and doing even better than he did in 2014 and 2015. He’ll need to keep doing that.

I’m not as worried about Brian Dozier, who will at the very least be quietly excellent. At the very most, he’ll be obnoxiously excellent.

Hrm, it seems as if the bullpen is currently scary as all hell, but we’re out of time! And the more and more I look at the Twins, the more I think about Santana and Santiago being quality pitchers with one of the best pitching prospects in baseball behind them, with Sano breaking out and Kepler continuing to progress, with Buxton still having the world’s greatest building blocks for continued baseball success, with players like Dozier, who can be a star, and players Grossman and Escobar, who have each contributed something over the last couple seasons.

We don’t even have to engage in fanboy speculation, like my secret hopes that Mauer will undergo a zimmermanectomy during the season and become an MVP candidate a gain.

So while I won’t start the summer camp YA novel yet, I’ll at least jot down some notes. I think Mr. McGarnle should be a very tall, slender man, don’t you? I originally envisioned him as a short, squat fellow with more hair on his face than the top of his head, but ...

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 29

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. You do not have to read the original series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @asirensrage @residentdormouse @secretaryunpaid @alisbackalleybbq @kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @theesirenteller @fanficanatic-tw

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/138016519

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd lke to be added :D

****

It’s exactly how she remembers it. A quaint, three-bedroom home perfect for a young, growing family; antique blue board and batten with a vibrant, mustard yellow front door and a deep, wide porch that wraps around one side of the structure and connects with the deck in back. A fenced-in rear yard ideal for pets and children; enough open land for gardens and play structures and even a pool. Mere blocks from the small downtown core and open-air market; located close to schools and parks and only a ten-minute drive to the beach. The latter had been the ultimate selling point; as close to the ocean as they could get within their price range. Things had been different then; both financially struggling after never receiving full payment from Mahajan, but still having to worry about a stack of hospital bills and various debts.

There’d been no reason to live above their means; content with something small that they could personalize and make all of their own. Add onto if a bigger family was in the cards; firmly settling on having at least one baby, but not fully sold on anything more than that. Being a father again scared him; the guilt and the regret surrounding the death of his son and the decision he’d made in the final weeks still weighed heavily on his mind and soul. And she’d known not to push the subject no matter how much she desired something more; needing to give him the space to not only wrestle with and defeat his demons but build up his confidence when it came to raising another child.

Wick had picked them up at the airport. Twelve days following their desperate escape from New York, and ten since he’d flown to Broome to keep his eyes open and an ear to the ground. After assisting Alcott in identifying -and quickly eliminating- any possible threat, he’s confident that things are secure and no dangers lie in wait; free to return to the States and his commitment to helping Nik destroy any remaining threat on the front line. He looks healthier and more well-rested than Esme can previously remember; casually dressed in a pair of olive green cargo shorts and a simple white t-shirt. His eyes are more vibrant, the bridge of his nose and his cheeks sunkissed. And it's a welcome departure from the usual; the sullenness replaced by a genuine smile and unmistakable glow.

She glances at Millie; fastened in her car seat in the back of the SUV, safe and secure between her mom and dad. Father and daughter both asleep and in the same positions; heads tilted back and to the right, their arms folded across their chests, mouths slightly open as they quietly snore. Their cheeks flushed; sweat glistening at their temples and napes of their necks, wayward strands stuck to their brows. The last two weeks finally catching up to them; the hours spent travelling, the stress, fear, and worry that had weighed heavily upon them, the shared shock and surprise of finding out about one another’s identities and roles in the other’s life. And the dangerous and unpredictable flight from New York City and the two weeks spent at Nik’s while longing for home.

As Wick kills the engine, she tends to Millie, gently cradling her face in her palms and peppering her brow and cheeks with feathery kisses. Repeatedly brushing the tip of her nose against Millie’s until the four-year-old gives a sleepy giggle and a breathy, ‘Momma’; eyes flickering open as she plants a noisy kiss on Esme’s lips.

“Time to get up, little bug. We’re finally here.”

“Home?”

Esme nods.

“Our forever home?”

“Our forever home. Well, unless we one day need a bigger one. Come on…” Unbuckling the car seat’s harness, she lifts Millie onto her lap. “You’re getting big, lovey. Soon I won’t be able to pick you up at all.”

“I’m big like daddy!”

“You definitely are. I always knew you would be; even when you were in my belly and I used to get sneak peeks of you at the doctor. You were long and lanky even then. Now…” She clears sweaty hair away from Millie’s cheeks and out of her eyes.. “...wake daddy up. Tell him we’re here.”

She scrambles off her mother’s lap and onto Tyler’s; her stomach pressed against his chest, a knee beside either hip. And taking his face in both hands, gently shakes his head from side to side. “Daddy! It’s time to get up! We’re here now! No more sleep!” Upon receiving no response, she aggressively taps her palms against his cheeks, then scowls at her mother. “I think he’s dead.”

“He’s not dead. You can see that he’s breathing. Sometimes, he’s a really heavy sleeper. Or maybe he’s ignoring you.”

“You might ignore you, but not me. Never me.”

“Excuse you?”

“Daddy!” Millie bellows into his ear, then tugs at his beard, followed by his ears. “You have to get up! No more sleep! It’s time to wake up and…” She shrieks when his fingers lightly dig into her sides and he begins gently tickling her, dissolving into giggles when he tips her sideways across his lap and repeatedly brushes his beard against her cheeks. And she’s breathless and hiccuping when he once more settles her upright on his thighs, her tiny hands cradling his cheeks in their palms. “It’s time to get up!”

“Says who?”

“Me! And momma!”

You guys aren’t the boss of me.”

“Yeah, right!”

“Why do I need to get up? Can’t a guy get his beauty sleep?””

“You can go back to sleep later! We’re finally here, daddy! We’re home! It’s time to wakey-wakey, shakey-shakey!”

“What if I don’t want to wakey-wakey, shaky-shakey?”

“Too bad! When momma says it’s time to get up, it’s time to get up! Remember, she’s the boss, applesauce!”

“Sure she is.” Placing a kiss on Millie’s temple, he settles her sideways on his lap; palm smoothing over her messy hair as she presses her face against the window and studies her surroundings. “What do you think of it so far?”

“I love it! I love the colour! Especially the front door! I LOVE yellow. It’s a great use of colour, dad. You know what they say? That EVERY house deserves a pop of colour.”

Tyler arches a quizzical brow at Esme. “Whose they?”

She gives a sheepish grin. “People on television. We watch a lot of Home and Garden Network.”

“Especially in the winter,” Millie adds. “When it’s too cold to go outside. Or there’s a snowstorm and we’re stuck in the house.”

“So you think it’s an alright place? That you’ll be happy here?”

“Of course, I’m going to be happy! It’s home. It’s where mommy and daddy are. It can’t get any better than that. But…”

“Uh oh…”

“You know what it needs? More colour. It needs flowers. To up the curb appeal.”

“Are you going to be a real estate agent when you grow up?”

“Nope.”

“Interior decorator?”

“Hell no! I’m going to be the person who builds the house. With my own hands!”

“That’s my girl.”

Esme winces in discomfort as she reaches across her body to unbuckle her seat belt. “Funny thing is, that’s what your daddy does. That’s one of his REAL jobs. He even owns his own business. He might not build houses from the ground up, but he helps make people's places bigger and better.”

“But I thought your job was kicking ass.”

“It is. Just not all the time. Only when Auntie Nik really needs my help.”

“So you have two lives. Two ‘yous’.”

“Yeah. I guess you could put it that way. The ‘me’ that was in New York City? Taking care of business? That’s the me that I don’t have to be very often anymore. The ‘all the time’ me? I help people in a different way. I make their houses bigger and nicer, I put up fences and decks, I build garages and sheds and even furniture sometimes.”

“Can you build a treehouse? I always wanted a treehouse.”

“Millie, I can build you whatever you want. Or at least I can try.”

“You know what his other job is? He’s a fireman.”

Her eyes widen. “Shut the front door!”

“It is. That’s the job I do the most. I won’t be going back for a while though; I’ve got a lot of time off to spend with you and your mom. That’s all that’s important right now. That you guys are safe and taken care of. And that the three of us get to be together. Get used to being a family.”

“Being a firefighter is crazy dangerous! And scary!”

“It can be.”

“Momma’s right! You ARE super brave!”

“I like to think I am. Sometimes, anyways.”

“She told me you’re the bravest person she’s ever known. And the strongest.”

Reaching behind Millie, he gently and lovingly tugs on Esme’s hair. “Yeah, well your mum is biassed.”

“Her mum tells the truth.”

“You’re our hero, Daddy. You’re brave and you’re strong and you keep us safe from the bad guys. We don’t have to worry about them when you’re around. ‘Cause you’ll do anything to stop them from even coming near us, never mind hurting us.”

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you or your mumma. You’re my girls. All that matters to me is the two of you.”

“And Lucy.”

“DEFINITELY Lucy. She’s one of my girls, too. Actually, she’s the ORIGINAL girl; I had her before I even met your mumma.”

“Mumma says she’s a really good doggo. A super smart one. I can’t wait to meet her. I hope she’ll like the toys and treats I picked out for her. And I hope she LOVES me.”

“I know she will. And she’s going like having a little sister; someone to play with and chase around and sneak her food under the table. She’ll be like a puppy again, just you watch.”

“I just hope she loves me. ‘Cause I already know I love her. So if she doesn’t feel the same about me, I’m going to be crazy sad. I’m going to…”

Her voice trails off as begins bouncing up and down on his lap; banging her palm against the window when Alcott steps out onto the front porch; flashing that dazzling and waving enthusiastically at her. And she squeals “Uncle Duey!” before Tyler pops open the door; not waiting for it to fully open before she’s slipping out of the vehicle and scurrying up the front walk.

Alcott is on the middle step when she launches herself towards him; his deep, rich chuckle and her piercing, musical giggle floating on the air as he effortlessly catches her and tosses her above his head. Once, twice. Before tucking her into his chest and showering her temples, forehead and cheek with kisses.

Esme pauses with her hand on the door handle. “I know it’s hard for you; seeing how close she is to everyone. The fact they got to be part of her life long before you did. And I’m sorry that it hurts you so much. I’m sorry for so MANY things.”

“I don’t need you to be sorry. We’ve moved past that. I don’t need constant apologies.”

“But…”

“I don’t need them,” he forcibly repeats, then lays a hand on the back of her head and pulls her into him; lips meeting her brow. “And it’s not as bad now. It doesn’t hurt as much. I’m starting to look at it differently. How I’m actually very lucky. You and Millie had these people around; watching out for you, loving on you and keeping you safe. Until I finally got the chance to do it.”

“I just wish I’d given you that chance sooner. I’m sorry I…”

“No more of that word, okay? There’s no need for it.” He’s mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp as he pushes his finger through her hair; hand cupping the back of her head when he kisses her. pushes his fingers through her hair, mindful of the still tender line of stitches embedded in her scalp. “Not anymore.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“So good to me? After everything I’ve done. After hurting you like I did…”

“I love you.” The answer is short and sweet. Honest. “I always have. I always will.”

Her lower lip and chin tremble as she struggles to hold back her emotions.

“None of that, okay? No crying. There’s no reason to cry. There’s been enough of that. And I don’t want this; you holding onto all of this…stuff. I forgive you. Now it’s time for you to forgive yourself. Or at least work on it.”

“How the tables have turned, huh? I remember saying almost those same words to you. About Austin. About how he forgave you. For what you did. And that it was your turn. To forgive yourself.”

“And I got there. Eventually. You will too. You’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. Millie. We’ll help you through it. Now…” Turning and reaching for the door handle, he’s stopped when she snags him by the back of his t-shirt and pulls him towards her. A hand on his cheek as she kisses him; long and soft and slow. A grin tugging at the corners of his mouth when he pulls away. “What was that for?”

“I need a reason to kiss you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Have you ever considered that I enjoy kissing you?”

“Have you ever considered you have crappy taste in men?”

“My taste in men is impeccable, thank you very much. Or at least it became impeccable when I met you.”

Smirking, he presses a kiss on her brow. “Sweet talker. Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“Yeah, you’re always up for a good, old-fashioned, ego-stroking.”

“And a good stroking of something else,” he teases, giving her a playful wink and then opening the car door and stepping out. Offering Alcott a nod in greeting before heading to the opposite side of the vehicle and assisting Esme; a protective hand on the small of her back as he leads her up the front walk. “You gonna be alright the rest of the way? While I give Wick a hand with all the stuff?”

“I’ll be fine,” she assures him, standing on her tips with a hand upon his chest as he leans down to kiss her.

“I worry.”

“I know you do. And in a strange little way, it makes you a million times sexier. Which is hard to grasp considering you’re already the sexiest man alive.”

“You and your shit taste in guys.”

“I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, my taste has become impeccable.” Smoothing her palms down the front of his t-shirt, her hand settling on his hips; eyes closing as she rests her forehead upon his chest. “I love you, you know.”

Smiling, he cups the back of her head in his palm and leans down to kiss her temple. “I know.”

****

Alcott greets her with a smile as he holds a squealing and giggling Millie upside down by her ankles. “Well there’s a sight for sore eyes.”

“Emphasis on the word ‘sore’.”

“You’re going to be feeling it for a while. To be honest, I’m surprised you’re doing as well as you are. That you’re even up and at ‘em.”

“It was now or never, I guess. Nik was getting tired of me; I was only a couple of days away from being evicted.”

“Look at mommy’s toe nails!” Millie calls out, as her fingertips swipe at her mother’s feet. “I did those! Watermelon pink! Mine match!”

“You’re going to make her throw up,” Esme warns. “Or pee her pants. She had a huge drink in the car before falling asleep.”

“I might do both!” The four-year-old announces. “I had a cherry and vanilla Coke slurpee! Daddy and I shared it, but I drank the most! Now I got the burps!”

“Guess your mum will be cleaning a hell of a mess off the steps, won’t she.”

“More like her father would have to clean it up. So let’s spare him the horror, okay? Blood and guts he can handle. THAT? He’ll likely toss his cookies too.”

(Millie hiccups as Alcott returns her to an upright position and settles her on his hip. “Daddy doesn’t like barf. I almost hurled on the plane and he nearly had a panic attack.”

Standing on her tiptoes, Esme straightens and tightens her daughter’s pigtails. “We don’t need to give away all of his secrets. Why don’t you run over and help daddy and Uncle John with some stuff? Grab your backpack and Lucy’s toys and treats. I’ll take you to meet her in a few minutes.”

“You just want to talk to Uncle Duey in private. I know your tricks, mom.”

“Well, there’s some things we need to discuss that little ears don’t need to hear.”

“What kind of things?”

“Adult things. That you…young miss…don’t need to be part of.”

“Are you going to hang out for a bit, Uncle Duey? Are you going to stay for supper? We haven’t eaten yet and I’m getting really hungry and I really want you to stay. Will you?”

“If your mum and dad don’t mind having an extra mouth to feed.”

“Are you going to sleep over? Visit for a bit? ‘Cause that would be really cool! Maybe we could even make a tent in my new room!”

“Tell you what, I’ll stay for a few days. So we can hang out. BUT, I’m going to stay at a hotel; so you and your folks can have privacy. You’re a family now; you need to concentrate on THAT.”

“I finally have a daddy. And not just ANY daddy, but my REAL daddy! The daddy that helped make me. Who put me in mom’s tum! How cool is that?! That I’d get my actual daddy in the end?!

Alcott presses a noisy kiss on Millie’s cheek before setting her on the ground, a hand resting on the top of her head. “You know, I think you’re a very lucky little girl. That you have the dad AND mum that you do. Because no one…in this world…could love you more than they do. You’re going to have a long and happy life, my little Amelia. With BOTH of them.”

“Daddy said that when something is meant to be, it always finds a way. He said that’s why mummy needed his help; because they were meant to be together. Do you think that’s true?”

“I think when two people love each other…REALLY love each other…they’ll find their way back to one another. Doesn’t matter how long it takes or how many obstacles are in the way, if they’re meant to be together, they will be. That’s what happened with your mum and dad. Although I do question her standards and her taste in men. Because if you ask me…”

“You know, you can be super duper cute, Uncle Duey. And really romantic.”

“You know, I have my moments. But let’s keep that between us. Our little secret. I have a reputation to keep.”

“Of being a big-time ass kicker!”

“Exactly.” Offering a closed fist, Millie bumps it with her own. “Now, you go.” Laying a hand on the top of her head, he gently steers her towards the stairs. “Listen to your mumma. Go and grab your things. I’ve got a surprise for you.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“A very nice one.”

“What is it?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise. And you can’t have it until you do what you're told; go and lend a hand and grab your stuff. Then you can meet Lucy and…”

“And then I get my surprise!”

“Exactly!”

“This is the best day ever!” Giving his leg a tight squeeze, she hurries for the stairs and then jumps from the landing; landing effortlessly on her feet and rushing off towards the car. Calling out for her dad and her uncle John; giggling when she’s teased and Wick playfully pulls on one of her pigtails; her high-pitched, exuberant voice floating on the breeze as she busies herself with helping pull bags from the trunk.

Grinning, Alcott shakes his head. “She’s…”

“A handful? Believe me, I know.”

“She seems to be adjusting alright. To this new life of hers. Seems excited to be here, that’s for sure.”

“The last forty-eight hours, she’s done nothing but go on and on about Australia. About how she can’t wait to live here. About taking beach trips and going fishing; learning how to ride a bike, going to school and making friends. It’s ALL she’s talked about.”

“She’s been through a lot. It hasn’t been the easiest of three weeks, that’s for sure. Bad enough on all of us, never mind a wee one. How have things been? Since she found out? About her dad?”

“Everything’s been great. Better than I thought it would be; I thought it would take her a lot longer to adjust to the whole thing and to forgive me for keeping him a secret. But it’s like he’s been part of her life forever. Like she’s never known anything different. She adores him. Wants to be around him constantly.”

“The best part of that is that she loved him before she even knew that he WAS her dad. How’s he been? With her?”

“Amazing. He really had to step it up after New York City; I sort of just threw him to the wolves. But he did it; despite all the pain he was in and constantly worrying about me and trying to take care of me. He just did what he had to do. Spent nearly every waking moment with her.”

“As much as what happened sucks for you, it was probably what was best for them. It gave them that time; to be completely alone and invested with one another. Gave them a chance to learn about one another. Without anyone else interfering.”

“As much as my body wishes it could get on board with that, it’s just not having it. How have things been here?”

“Quiet. For the most part.”

“For the most part, huh? I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Just a couple of people snooping. Coming around where they had no reason to be. Wick and I took care of them.”

“Took care of them as in…”

“As in they won’t bother you…or anyone else…ever again.”

Sighing heavily, Esme crosses her arms over her chest, hands rubbing at her biceps.

“Hey…” Hooking a finger under her chin, Alcott tilts her face up towards him. “...everything is fine. You’re safe here. Wick and I took care of things on our end, now all Nik has to do is handle things on hers. It’ll be over soon. For good.”

“God, I hope so.”

She glances over her shoulder as Millie and Tyler make their way towards the house. The latter gently suggesting that their offspring make multiple trips to and from the car, while Millie insists -despite the knapsack on her shoulders, gift bag over her wrist, and the top of a pile of small boxes cradled in her arms reaching her eyebrows- that she’s stronger than she looks and can see ‘just fine’.

“You know….” Esme turns back to Alcott, body leaning into his when he drapes an arm across her shoulders. “...I’ve waited five years for this. To be with him again. I have missed him; every second of every day. I spent four wondering what it would be like; to have him in her life and see them together and hear her call him ‘daddy’. Now it’s happening; it’s all RIGHT HERE. And I am so overwhelmed. With everything I’m feeling.”

“In a good way, I hope.”

“In a very good way. This is all I ever wanted. HE’S all I ever wanted. Everything we talked about…everything we planned together…it’s all finally happening. In this place. That we bought together. And that I never spent a single night inside. It’s a lot, you know? To unpack. And I’m so scared that something…someone…is going to take this all away from me.”

“That’s why you…BOTH OF YOU…need to get out of this life. And stay out of it. Once this is all over, you need to walk away for good. Or something bad WILL happen.”

“I’m ready for that. More than ready. I finally have everything I want. WHO I want. I want to be a wife and a mother. I want to share my bed with the same man every night for the rest of my life. Kiss the same man good morning EVERY morning. I want to make cookies for school bake sales and cheer Millie on while she plays soccer and watch her learn to surf. I want to have another baby. Or two. Or three. I am so ready. For ALL of that.”

“But?”

“I’m worried that he won’t be able to walk away. Or stay away. Not for good. I’m worried he’s always going to be tied to that life somehow. That it will somehow find a way back into our lives. Take him away from us.”

“Have you mentioned all this? Talked to him about it?”

“I haven’t exactly had the chance. I spent a week in and out of consciousness, and another five days trying to build up enough strength just to do shit like feed myself and get myself to the bathroom. There was never a good time to bring up something like THAT.”

“You need to. Just get it all out in the open. Let him know what you’re worried about, what you’re afraid of, all of that. Because it won’t do any good keeping that in. You need to say it. And he needs to hear it.”

“You know what my fear is? My worst nightmare? That he’ll take a job and go somewhere thousands of miles away and something horrible will happen to him. That I’ll lose him. Permanently. And he’ll be stuck there; I won’t have any way of getting him out there and bringing him home.”

“Esme…”

“I couldn’t deal with that. I just couldn’t. I’d never survive it.”

*****

Esme slowly approaches the couch; a sprawled-out Lucy regarding her with wide eyes and her head tilted to the side. While Millie trails a few steps behind, she crouches down in front of the sofa and offers a soft, calm smile.

“Hey girl…hey Lucy…” She holds out the back of her hand to sniff, the dog’s nose wet against her skin. And as recollection of a long lost and missed scent begins to creep in, Lucy’s tail begins to thumb energetically against the cushions. “...do you remember me? It’s been a long time, huh? I missed you. So much.”

The thumping of the tail continues, now accompanied by a butt wiggle and a soft yet happy whimper as Lucy wriggles closer. “Yeah…you remember. We were besties. We did so much together. I’m so sorry…” Ruffling the fur at the nape of Lucy’s neck, Esme then strokes the dog’s ears and scratches under her chin “...that I just up and left like that. I never meant to abandon you.” She leans in to press a kiss to Lucy’s nose. “Thank you, sweet girl. For keeping him company. And keeping an eye on him. Until I could get back to doing it.”

Swiping at loose tears with the back of her hand, she reaches for Millie.“I have someone I want you to meet. Someone I love very much. I had a baby while I was gone. And this is her…” Drawing her daughter to her side, she lays a hand on the top of the little one’s head and presses a kiss to her temple. “...isn’t she beautiful?”

“Hi Lucy…” Millie offers her hand for a sniff. “...I’m Millie. Well, my name is really Amelia, but I like Millie better. Everyone calls me that. I’m going to live here now; with you and my momma and my daddy. That makes us sisters. ‘Cause we have the same mom and dad. Just they adopted you and I was in momma’s tummy.” She giggles when Lucy licks her hand, then slides forward and swipes at her chin with her tongue. “I think she likes me!”

“Why don’t you show her what you got for her? I’m sure she’d love to see.”

“I got you some goodies.” Millie holds aloft a neon pink gift bag, filled with white tissue paper. “Some toys and some treaties. See…” Dumping the contents out onto the couch, she arranges them neatly in their respective groups; food in one pile, play objects in the other). “...I got you all different kinds of stuff. Squeaky balls, rope toys, ones you can chew on, a cool tug of war one that we can play with together! I’ll let you pick which one you want to play with first.”

“I think she’s more interested in learning about you right now.”

“Can I give her some treats? Do you think that’s okay? That daddy won’t mind?”

“He won’t mind at all, believe me. Here…” Selecting one of the bag of treats -duck flavoured- she tears it open; dumping a handful of the small ‘cookies’ into Millie’s palm. “...these are her favourites. Hold your hand out and let her take a sniff. She’ll decide if she wants them or not.”

“She won’t eat my hand, will she?”

“Lucy’s the last dog on earth that would do something like that. She might kiss you to death or you might pass out from her stinky doggy breath, but she’s a lover, not a fighter. The goodest good girl. Aren’t you, Luce?” She smoothes a hand over each of Lucy’s ears and the scruff of her neck, kneading lightly at the fur as Millie offers the treats in her palm. The dog briefly sniffing before hurriedly -and exuberantly- gobbling them up. Causing the four-year-old to dissolve into giggles when the nibbling at her palm turns into enthusiastic lapping at her chin and cheeks. “I knew she’d like you. What’s not to like?”

“We’re going to be besties!” Millie declares, and tosses both arms around Lucy’s wriggling body. “Aren’t we Lucy?!

Tyler’s hand falls on Esme’s shoulder as he joins them. “How’s things down here?”

“Good,” she smiles up at him. “Very good. I think it’s safe to say that Lucy and Millie like each other.”

“We don’t just like each other!” Millie declares, as she lies on her back on the couch; Lucy between her splayed legs, the dog’s stomach pressed against hers. Lucy panting and her tongue lolling out of her mouth as her new friend enthusiastically scratches at the ‘sweet spots’ behind her ears. “We LOVE each other!”

“That’s ‘cause Lucy has great taste. Don’tcha girl.” Tyler reaches down to knead the back of the dog’s neck. “Now I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re going to have to share me now. We’ve got extra people in the house. Extra b…”

Esme scowls up at him.

“Ladies. I was going to say LADIES.”

“The hell you were.”

“You know I’m just joking. Trying to get a rise out of ya. Although after the past ten days, I wouldn’t mind if YOU were trying to get a rise out of ME.”

She gives a derisive snort and a roll of the eyes. “You are too much.”

His fingers curl around her bicep when she starts to stand; helping her to her feet before his palm moving to the small of her back as she leans into him. Her body leaning into his as his lips meet the top of her head.

“You guys finished? Get everything inside?”

“Just put everything upstairs for now. We can tackle it later. Or tomorrow. Or whenever. There’s no rush.”

“So…” Alcott takes the stairs two at a time. Enthusiastically clapping and rubbing his hands together as he addresses Millie from the bottom landing. “...who’s ready for their surprise!”

“I am! I’ve been ready since you told me! But…” She nuzzles the top of Lucy’s head with her nose. “...can Lucy come and see it too?”

“The more the merrier. This is definitely a family thing.”

Sliding out from under the dog’s body, Millie jumps to her feet; patting the side of her leg and calling for the dog to follow as Alcott leads the way out of the living room and down the hall. Pausing at the door that belongs to the small three-piece bath just off the kitchen.

“Right in here,” he says, and nods towards the door. “It’s waiting for ya.”

“In here?”

“In there. Go on.”

She reaches for the handle, then pauses. “What is it? What’s in there?”

“It’s a bathroom.”

“But what’s IN the bathroom?”

“Your surprise.”

“But what IS my surprise?”

“If I told you, then it wouldn’t be a surprise, would it? Go on. Go see what’s in there.”

Esme’s brows arch quizzically as she glances between Tyler and Alcott. “What are you two up?”

The latter grins. “Just a little something. That we thought would cheer her up, especially after the last couple of weeks she’s had. And we thought it’d help make this new life of hers even better.”

“And just what would make it better? What…?”

“Bea!” Millie’s scream is ear-piercing; bouncing off the ceiling and walls and echoing through the lower level of the house. “Oh…my Bea!” She drops onto her butt in the middle of the floor and scoops the cat into her arms, cuddling her tight to her chest as she sobs into the glistening black fur. A concerned Lucy hurriedly padding into the room; settling herself in a sobbing Millie’s lap as she licks at the tears that stream down the little one’s face. “...I missed you!”

“How?” Esme struggles to hold back her own tears. “How did you…?”

“I had someone bring her to me. Someone I could trust. To get her safely. And here she is. I couldn’t keep a little girl and her best friend apart, could I? It’d already been long enough.”

“This was all you wasn’t it?” Esme glances up at Tyler. “You made this happen.”

“It was my idea. But I had help. Getting it done.”

“I thought you weren’t a cat guy.”

“I’m not.” Smiling, he wraps around her and gatherers into his side. Leaning down to press his lips against her temple. “But I have a feeling this one will grow on me.”

****

It’s before eleven when Esme steps out onto the front porch with Wick, the wood smooth and cool under her bare feet; the light in the front room and a small battery-powered lantern on a small nearby table providing the only illumination. Alcott departed an hour before; needing to get back to his hotel to handle some ‘important business’ before retiring for the night, but not before promising Millie he’d be back to see her in the latter part of the morning. With exhaustion and calm quickly settling in, Tyler tends to tucking Millie into -at her insistence- the confines of her brand new, four-poster bed. A simple piece of furniture that signifies the start of the second bedroom’s transformation; pink and grey camo bedding, the rest of the space a blank canvas for her -with some guidance and help- to turn into her own little sanctuary.

As Wick lingers on the bottom landing, Esme remains at the top of the steps; gathering the sides of the oversized hoodie she sports and wrapping them around her petite frame. “You gonna stick around for a bit? Couple of days at least? Millie would love to spend some time with you. Now that we’re away from all that craziness. And who knows when she’ll see you again.”

“I already said my goodbyes. Or should I say my ‘see you laters’. She knows it won’t be long. Until we see each other.”

“Still, a couple of days would have been nice. Just to sit back and relax. Chat.”

“As much as I wish I could just take it easy, I really need to get back. To New York City. I told Nik I’d help tie up all the loose ends. And I need to meet Charon. We have some…business…to tend to.”

“Business as in Winston.”

He smiles coyly. “The less you know, the better.”

“Do you think the High Table will do anything? That they’ll handle him anyway? For what he did to Tyler? To Millie?”

“They’d be hypocrites if they didn’t.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“He broke their most important rule. The biggest one. They’ll forgive some things. Some missteps. But THAT?”

“He deserves to pay for what he did. He could have killed both of them. Taken everything away from me. Everything I had just gotten back. That I spent five years missing and longing for. Winston tried to take that from me. HIM from me. And for what? Some weird, sick ass obsession?”

“He had it in his mind that you were his to have. And to lose. Winston isn’t used to losing.”

“I was never his. I was never going to be. And I certainly never let him think it was a possibility.”

“I think he felt as if he could guilt into it. Being with him. Hold everything he’s done for you over your head. Manipulate you. Until you not only gave in, but gave him what he wanted. EVERYTHING he wanted.”

“Never would have happened. I’d already lived through one asshole gaslighting me for years. I wasn’t falling for it again. And if he had managed to take Tyler and Millie from me, I would have killed myself before it happened. Before EVER being with him.”

“How about we concentrate on the fact he DIDN’T manage to do it. That Millie and Tyler are safe.”

“I think about it every day, believe me. But I also think about how he can’t get away with this. As if it isn’t bad enough that he was so ready, willing, and able to kill Tyler, he was more than okay with taking Millie out in the process. A little girl girl. MY little girl. My baby. And I’m sorry, but he can’t get away with it. He just can’t.”

“And he won’t. I promise you. Winston will be taken care of. You don’t need to know how or at whose hand, but he will be. You just need to trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you. You know I do. I trust you with my life. With Millie’s life.”

“Your part in all of this is over now. This life? The job? It’s time, Esme. For you to let it go. To just walk away. Not many people in this world get that chance. So you need to take it when you can. Because if you keep even on toe in this pound, you are going to get sucked back in. And this life will swallow you whole. You know it will.”

“It’s hard to walk away when there’s still unfinished business. When it’s so personal.”

“That business will be taken care of. You need to let other people handle it now. What you need to do is go inside and start over again. Start a new life. The one you always wanted. You’ve been given a second chance with Tyler. To be with him. Have a life with him. Make a family together. Do you know how many people wish they could get that? Who's lost someone and will never get them back? Who would love to be in your shoes right now?”

“I know it’s hard for you. To see it. Everything just playing out right in front of you. You can’t get Helen back. And believe me, if there was a way I could change that, I would.”

“I know you would. But you can’t. You can’t do that for me. But what you CAN do? You can make a life for yourself. A REAL life. You can make that man your husband and you can make more babies together and your little girl can have both her mother AND her father. You never wanted all of this. To be in this world. You were never planning on sticking with it for the long haul. Dying some god awful, bloody death like the rest of us.”

“You’re right,” she admits, leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest. “I didn’t want that. I didn’t plan on doing this forever. And I tried to get out. I DID get out. And then that adjudicator showed up and turned my entire world upside down. Ruined EVERYTHING. I didn’t want to get sucked back in. I was done. I had met someone. I was going to get married. I bought a house. We were planning on always and forever. But it didn’t work out that way, did it.”

“No. It didn’t. You had to wait longer for it. But at least it’s happening. At least you’re getting it.”

Sighing, she reaches up to tuck wayward strands of hair behind her ears.

Climbing the stairs, Wick takes her by the shoulders and turns her towards him. “You can’t bring Helen back. I wish you could. But you know what you can do? For me? You can get the fuck out of this life. And STAY out of it.”

“I’m trying. But knowing that Winston is still out there after what he did…”

“Winston will be handled. Whether it’s by me or Nik or someone else. It’s not your fight anymore. It’s time to let someone else do the heavy carrying. You’ve done enough.”

“It’s my family. That he tried to hurt. It’s my little girl and the love of my life and…”

“And both of them need you. Not the you that’s connected to the job. The you that’s connected to them. You have to let that Esme go. It’s time. You need to be the Esme that they want you to be. That they NEED you to be. They don’t need ‘job Esme’. They need wife Esme. Mom Esme. And you can’t tell me you don’t need that, too.”

“Of course I need it. I WANT it. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“It’s done. Your old life. Whatever battles are left, it’s up to other people to finish. And it’s up to you to trust them to do it.”

“That’s a little easier said than done.”

“You’ve trusted me before. Many times. Trust me now.”

“I’ll try. And me saying that is no slight on you. It’s just that this is close to home. So personal. To just hand it over, you know?”

“I know it is. But you have to do it. If not for yourself, for Tyler and Millie.” (lightly squeezes her shoulders and pulls her closer to him, lips meeting and lingering on her brow) “You’re going to be alright, kiddo. You’re safe. And we’re all going to keep it that way.”

“You’ll let me know how things go? In New York?”

“Once things are taken care of, I’ll call you. Like I said, the less you know, the better.”

“And call me when you get there? So I know you arrived safe and sound?”

Wick grins “Yes, mom.”

“Well, I AM a mom. Which technically makes me your ‘mom friend’, so…”

“Speaking of being a mom, you should go and do just that. Tuck your little one in. Give her a hug and a kiss. And a squeeze. From me.”

Smiling, she reaches up to sweep long strands of hair off his forehead and away from his eyes.

“Take care of each other. LOVE each other. And be happy. If anyone deserves that, it’s you.”

Swallowing around a lump of emotion, she stands on her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck) “Thank you. For everything. Millie’s alive because of you. If you hadn’t helped that night…”

“I owed you one. Had you not helped me, this whole mess never would have happened. Starting with that adjudicator.”

“One had nothing to do with the other. The adjudicator, Alessio and his family. It’s not connected.”

“One led to the other. Had you not helped me that night…gone against the High Table…the adjudicator would have never had a reason to track you down.”

“How about we just call it even? Because I can tell this isn’t an argument I’m going to get the high ground on.”

“You can’t win them all, kiddo. But you’ve won plenty, that’s for sure.”

“You will be back, right? Some day?”

“Some day.”

“Because you know you’re welcome here. That our door is always open. So don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Alright.” He gives her a final squeeze, then a kiss on the cheek. “You be good, Esme Drummond.”

“I will,” she promises, and then pulls away, using her fingertips to clear away the tears that manage to escape. Once more leaning against the bannister with her arms crossed over her chest, she watches him descend the steps and limp down the walk, heading for his car.“Hey!” She calls to him after he opens the door, causing him to pause before sliding behind the wheel. “I’ll see you soon, John Wick!”

He grins over the roof of the car. “Not unless I see you first.”

*****

She finds him in the master bedroom, standing at the side of the bed in nothing more than a pair of sweats that sit low on his hips. A duffle bag, one of Esme’s suitcases, and Millie’s wheeled Transformer case open in front of him; rummaging through them and throwing any dirty laundry into a pile near the closet. Clean clothing stacked on the bedside chair)

“Millie asleep?”

“Out like a light. Both Bea and Lucy are in there with her. All three are snoring.”

Sidling up beside him, she reaches into Millie’s suitcase. Closely inspecting a t-shirt to determine if it's clean or dirty. “She gets it from you, you know.”

“Her amazing good looks?”

“Her snoring.”

“So you’re saying she’s ugly? Which she also gets from me?”

“You damn well know that isn’t what I’m saying. She gets both her amazing good looks and her snoring from you. There. Are you happy?”

“I don’t snore.”

“Like hell you don’t.”

“I’m not taking criticism from someone who talks in their sleep. Who I can have full conversations with.”

“I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You just did it last night.”

“What was I talking about?”

“I don’t know some guy. Tall, handsome, built like a brick house, had a huge dick. Apparently gave you the best orgasms you’ve ever had in your entire life.”

“Mmm.” She throws a sweater of Millie’s onto the dirty pile. “Must have been some random hook up in college.”

Tyler scowls.

“Baby, IF I was saying all that, it was obviously you I was talking about. Haven’t we had this conversation before? While I’ve been awake? About how you’re the first guy to achieve the previously impossible? It’s nice not having to rely on myself to get to the finish line.”

“You have dated some real losers, you know that?”

“Not that the list is lengthy by any stretch of the imagination, but yes, yes I have. And I married the biggest one of them all.”

“Maybe your second husband will be a step up.”

“I have a feeling he will be,” she chides and playfully smacks him in the stomach with a dirty sweater. “With some room left over for a little improvement.”

“A little? That’s an understatement.”

“I don’t know. I think he’s pretty perfect already. As is.”

Smiling, he leans down to drop a gentle kiss on the top of their head. “And you have the nerve to call me biassed.”

They work quietly and companionably side by side, and when Millie’s suitcase is finally empty, she moves it from the bed and sets it on the floor. Then takes a seat on the edge of the mattress; watching Tyler, as he continues to work.

“Wick get away alright?”

Esme nods. “Do you think he’s going to be okay? When he gets back to New York?”

“I don’t know. He’s gonna have a lot of big guns after him. Bigger and heavier than the ones that are going to be after me, that’s for sure. But, he’s been in that world a long time. Gone up against a lot of horrible people. And he’s still around to tell about it.”

“I’m worried. About him and Charon. When it comes to the whole dealing with Winston thing.”

“One thing they have on their side is that the High Table is after his ass, too. He broke their number one golden rule, yeah? Drew blood on Continental grounds. If they came after you for a lot less, I like to think they’d fuck him right up.”

“But he sits on the High Table. How willing are they going to be to punish one of their own?”

“You know more about them than I do. I was never caught up on that side of things. Not that I didn’t have a chance to be. It was offered to me. Working under them. More than once.”

“Not many people say ‘no’ to the High Table and get away with it. You’re one of the lucky ones.”

“Didn’t really save me, though. did it? They still found a way to ruin my fucking life.”

“Why didn’t you want to work under them? You could have taken jobs anywhere in the world. You didn’t have to focus on North America. You didn’t even need to step foot inside it at all. Why…?”

“Wasn’t my thing. All the rules, the politics, the bullshit. Less drama working for Nik. Only have one person telling me what to do and when to do it. Not a whole shit load.”

“You are kind of a lone wolf. You do prefer working alone.”

“I don’t know…” He over her, palms flat against the mattress for balance. “... I seem to remember a time I didn’t mind sharing the workload with a hot little brunette.”

“Just the one, huh? No others?”

“Just the one.” His lips briefly brush against hers. “The rest were blondes and redheads..”

Scowling, she places her hands on his chest and attempts to push him away.. “Oh fuck you, Tyler!”

Chuckling, he presses a kiss to her cheek and the side of her neck before returning to the task in front of him. She watches his hands as he works; strong enough to break bones and take a life, but capable of breathtaking tenderness. Long fingers and misshapen knuckles; various scars and imperfections that mar his skin. And his forearms; one of the features she’d immediately noticed when they first met. And she’s about to offer a cheeky comment when she notices the expression on his face; the darkened eyes and the furrowed brow.

“Part of you wishes you were there, doesn’t it.”

“Where?”

“New York City. Taking care of Winston yourself. Or at least helping.”

“I won’t lie, revenge is at the top of my list of wants.”

“Mine too. He can’t get away with it; trying to kill you, putting Millie in danger. It doesn’t seem fair that he could just walk away from it at all.”

“He won’t. There’s enough people out there making sure that won’t happen.”

“You’re not going to be one of them, are you? I’m not going to wake up in the morning and find out you took off in the middle of the night? Went back to the states to handle things yourself?”

“You’re not honestly asking me that are you? You can’t be serious.”

“I know how powerful revenge can be. And I know the lines that Winston crossed. Putting Millie in danger, the things he said about me in that basement, the…”

“I’m exactly where I need to be. Where I WANT to be. All that matters to me is keeping you and Millie safe. And if someone DOES decide to try something stupid and I’m not here…”

“You don’t think that’ll happen, do you? That Alessio will send someone? Or that Winston will track us down? You don’t…”

“I think you’re safe with me. You BOTH are.”

“I don’t doubt that. I know what you’re capable of. And I know you’d stop at nothing to protect us. But…”

“You and Millie are safe here. And I’m going to keep it that way. Do I know for sure they’ll send people? No. Would I put it past them? Also no. But I’m not worried. They can send all the people they want. They can send a goddamn army. I will destroy each and every one of them.”

She blinks at the brutal honesty and the anger in his voice; watching as he gathers up the empty suitcases and stashes them in the far corner of the room. Once more joining her, he drops heavily onto his back in the middle of the bed; a forearm over his eyes, his free hand reaching out to slip under both the hoodie and the tank she wears underneath. Calloused fingertips repeatedly skimming across the small of her back, travelling slowly from hip to hip.

Esme stretches out alongside him. On her side with a leg draped over one of his; her mouth placing a series of kisses along the line of his jaw and at the corner of his mouth before resting her head on his chest. Her eyes closed as her fingertips trace the various scars and tattoos that inhabit the right side of his torso. Unsure of how much time passes as they lay there; breathing in each other’s familiar scents, enjoying the warmth that radiates from one another’s bodies, relaxed by the sounds of their soft, rhythmic breathing.

He stirs against her; removing the forearm over his eyes and his palm moving to cup the back of her head. Thumb and fingers pushing through her hair to gently knead her skin, his lips meeting her brow.

“I thought we could just stay in the guest room. For now anyway.”

Esme frowns. “What’s wrong with in here?.”

“Delaney was in here. Right before I left for New York City.”

Reaching up, her hand briefly rests on the top of his head before her fingers push through the longer strands of hair.. “For what it’s worth, it doesn’t bother me.”

“Yeah, well it bothers me.”

Opening her eyes, she raises her head and places her chin on his chest, smiling up at him.

“In a couple of days we can head into town. Buy new stuff. Just start right from scratch. Make the room ours. No one else. Just you and me.”

“You know, oddly enough, I think that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Come on, give me some credit. I’ve had better moments than THAT.”

“I know it doesn’t seem like much to you, but for THAT to bother you? To not want to share what goes on in here with someone else? Just keep it between us? That’s pretty intense, babe. No one would expect that from a guy like you.”

“A guy like me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know, the strong, silent type that’s capable of killing a man a thousand ways with his bare hands.”

“For your information, my hands can do a lot more than that.”

“Oh believe me…” She nuzzles the long-healed bullet wound on his neck with her nose, then runs the tip of her tongue along the lines of his tattoo. “...I know what those hands are capable of.”

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?”

“You should know by now that you don’t have to put that much effort into it. If any.”

She giggles against his cheek, her hands shoving their way into his hair when he kisses her; the long, languid, and delicious movements of closed mouth upon closed mouth. A rough, calloused palm begins a slow exploration of her clothed body; travelling over dips and curves, lightly squeezing, softly cupping. And he both hears and feels her sigh into his mouth when he intensifies the moment; pulling away briefly to glide the tip of his tongue over her top lip before aggressively pushing its way way inside of her mouth. Eyes closing and a shiver passing through her when his mouth abandons hers in favour of finding her neck; gently suckling and nibbling at the skin as his free hand pulls open her hoodie and exposes his collarbone.

Her entire body arches off the bed when teeth, lips, and tongue slowly make their way from one shoulder to the other; violently shuddering when the scruff of his beard brushes against the skin just above the neckline of her tank top. Keeping one hand buried in his hair, the other explores the bulging and rippling muscles in his neck and shoulders; tracing scars and tattoos by memories until he moves further down the bed and she loses all contact. Body tension in anticipation when a lone finger slides up the hem of her shirt; the calloused tip gliding across her stomach and drawing a perfect circle around her navel. Toes curling and goosebumps invading her flesh when he aggressively pushes the fabric of her shirt up to the hollow of her throat; his mouth placing a trail of warm, moist kisses from the top of her belly button to the valley between her breasts. And he groans in annoyance and disappointment when she suddenly yanks at his hair, forcing him to look up at her.

“I need to tell you something.”

“Right now? Can’t it wait? I’m kinda in the middle of something here.”

“Right now,” she confirms, and he gives a sigh and rolls onto his side, hand pulling down her tank top, then settling on her stomach.

“We gotta do this fully clothed. Or I won’t hear a damn word you’re saying.”

“You’re half naked,” she points out. “How’s that fair?”

“I’m not as distracting as you are.” Pressing a chaste kiss to her lips, he uses a fingertip to clear strands of hair away from the sides of her face. “You okay? Is this something I need to worry about?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean…” She chews on her bottom lip. “No. You don’t need to worry. And yes, I’m alright.”

“What do you want to tell me?”

Rolling onto her stomach, Esme places her chin on his chest. “You have to promise you won’t laugh at me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because it’s kind of weird. Silly. Well, at least to me, it is.”

“I would never laugh at you. Or make fun of you. Unless it was about your height.”

Giving a small chuckle, she uses the pad of her thumb to trace the scars on his left shoulder. One a military injury he’d suffered years before he’d met her, the other left from the surgery he’d endured after the nightmare in Dhaka. “It IS kind of embarrassing.”

“How short you are?”

“No.” She playfully tugs at the hair on the underside of his chin. “What I’m going to tell you.”

“I thought we got over that a long time ago; being worried about telling each other things. I’m the last person you should feel embarrassed around. I mean, you’ve seen me with a tube up my dick so I could take a piss. You used to help me to the bathroom when I was in the hospital. It doesn’t get much more embarrassing than that.”

“You might change your mind after you hear this.”

“It can’t be that bad.” Combing his fingers through her hair, his hand briefly settles on the nape of her neck, gently squeezing before sliding under the hem of her shirt and resting in the space between her shoulders. Fingertips tracing slow, repetitive circles over bare, smooth skin. Just tell me.”

Sighing, she scrapes a nail along his beard. “I’m nervous.”

“About what?”

“That’s just it. I don’t know. And it makes no sense. I have no reason to be. But I feel shy and awkward; like we’re some couple just fresh into a relationship. We spent a year together. We shared a life. A bed. We were planning to get married. We wanted to have babies. We bought a house.”

“Five years was a long time. To spend apart.”

“But it came so easily to us. When we were back together. We still had that vibe, you know? We still fit together. Like we were never even apart. At least that’s how it felt to me. There was no hesitation. Not anxiety. We just went back to the way we were. Or close to it, anyway. That’s how it was for me. It wasn’t for you?”

“It was. Which is kind of scary in its own way. It should have been awkward. Considering how things ended.”

“But it wasn’t. And DID things end? For either of us? I may have walked away and a lot of time may have passed, but was it ever REALLY over?”

“No,” he admits. “It wasn’t.”

“Look how easy it came back to us. In New York City. Yeah, there was a lot of hurt and anger and I dropped a whole load of shit into your lap, but..”

“There was nothing shit about it. You showing back, finding out about Millie…”

“...things were still there. Between us. We still loved each other. And it was like we went back to how we were. We were always comfortable with each other; we always talked about anything and everything and nothing ever felt complicated or strange. Not even those first days in Dhaka. Am I making any sense at all?”

Tyler nods.

“So why am I nervous now? Why do I feel like this awkward little schoolgirl who’s getting ready for her first hook-up? It’s silly, right? For me to feel this way?”

“I don’t know. I feel a little nervous, too.”

“Really?”

“It was different in New York City. A lot was going on; between us and with the job and Winston and his bullshit. We didn’t really have time to sit down and think about things. We barely had time to catch our breath, some days.”

“I don’t want you to think it’s a bad thing. How I’m feeling. Because it’s not. There could never be anything bad with us. It’s just overwhelming. Being here…in this place…with you.”

“Do you want to maybe get something else?” Looping hair behind her ears, he skims his knuckles over her cheek. The cuts and bruises nearly fully healed. “Put this place up for sale and…?”

“No. That’s the last thing I want. It’s not about you or this place. Not in a negative way, anyway. It’s just so surreal. That we’re actually here. I spent five years wanting this; missing you and wishing things could be different. And now they are. Somehow we found our way back here. To each other.”

“You’re not the only one that spent five years wanting that.”

“You feel it too, don’t you? How overwhelming it is? In this chaotic, beautiful way? I KNOW you feel it. Because I KNOW you. I know your heart, Tyler. I know how deeply you feel things. How POWERFULLY you feel them. So I know I’m not alone in this.”

“It is a little…” He chooses his words wisely. “...scary.”

“I don’t want to screw this up. I did that once. I don’t want it to happen again.”

“It won’t.” Fingertips glide up her back and over the nape of her neck, hand cupping the back of her head and pulling her towards him; lips meeting hers in a long, soft kiss. His eyes riveted on hers as he brushes the knuckles off his free hand over the swell of her cheek; following the line of her jaw before cupping her chin in his palm, his thumb grazing over her lips.

“I can’t lose you. Not when I just got you back. I can’t lose THIS. We’re finally getting what we wanted. What we planned. We get to raise Millie together. Make an amazing life. Have more babies. Grow old and gray together. And if something takes you out of the equation…”

“I’m not going anywhere. Nothing’s going to happen to me. This is it. Once the mess in New York has been cleaned up and things are finished for good, we don’t have to worry about that life ever again.”

“Promise? Promise me you won’t go back to that.”

“I won’t go back,” he vows and pulls her into another kiss. Longer and deeper, tinged with urgency and desperation. Hunger.

Instead of pursuing it, he wraps her in his arms and rolls onto his back. Lips meeting her forehead before she tucks her face into that safe, warm place between his neck and shoulder.

“You’re home now, Esme.” His hand once more slips up the back of her sweater and tank top, fingertips ghosting along the length of her spine. “Where you belong. Where you’ve ALWAYS belonged.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 25

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @thebejeweledwatercat @ninjasawakenedmystar @asirensrage @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @kmc1989 @fanficanatic-tw, @karimac @alisbackalleybbq @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity

Warnings: profanity, mentions of blood and gun violence

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/133146532

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you’d like to be added :)

*****

When he regains consciousness, it’s to the smell of gasoline and the taste of blood on his lips. Confused and disoriented; his heart pounding furiously in his ears as the world spins groggily around him. The SUV on its roof in the middle of the intersection with its tires still spinning; his body wedged awkwardly -and painfully- between the driver’s seat and the shattered window, and twisted and bent door frame. Agony surging through him when he wrenches his arm free; using the sleeve of his jacket to clear blood from his forehead and eyes before blindly reaching for Esme. Snagging her by the front of the bulletproof vest, he aggressively shakes her; repeatedly calling her name, yet receiving no response. And when his head stops swimming and his vision clears, he finally glances over; fear like no other grabbing hold of him when he discovers her limp and seemingly lifeless. Her battered body held firmly in place by her intact seatbelt with her head slumped to the side; blood trickling from her nose and lips and streaming down her face. Matting her hair and dripping onto the upholstered ceiling of the SUV.

“No…no….no….no….” Fighting back a mixture of terror and nausea, he reaches into her coat and places two fingers against the side of her neck; relieved when he finds a strong pulse. “We gotta move.” He addresses her as if she were conscious; using a lone fingertip to clear the blood from her lips and under her nose. “I gotta get you out of here.”

Grunting in pain, he peels away the velcro on his vest; momentarily removing it to shrug out of his jacket; tucking the latter around her body and covering her face. Knowing he won’t fit the shattered driver’s side window with its badly dented and deformed frame, he instead climbs back behind the wheel. Pressing himself back against the seat and then using both feet to kick out the already cracked and crumbling windshield. He allows his body to fall towards the ceiling; muttering profanities when his sternum solidly connects with the steering wheel; sending a shockwave of pain that travels through his rib cage and into the middle of his back and momentarily knocking the wind out of his lungs.

Pushing through the discomfort, he manages to slide over the busted dashboard and out onto the filthy, debris-laden cement. And he rolls onto his back and briefly closes his eyes; arms resting against his sides and his lungs burning as he takes slow, deep breaths. A full recovery is futile; barely managing to orientate himself before a threat announces its presence. The roar of an approaching engine, followed by the squeal of tires and two rounds unleashed from an open, tinted window of a black SUV; the bullets piercing the already heavily damaged driver’s side door. He quickly reaches for the loaded Glock on his right hip, returning fire as he scrambles into a sit; the heels of his boots pressing against the asphalt as he pushes himself backwards. Placing himself in front of the missing driver’s window, effectively blocking the shooters’ line of sight and preventing them from firing into the vehicle.

He shoots strategically. Aiming for the assailants' feet and bringing them to their knees. Their positions allowed him to inflict the 'kill shots’; one single bullet in the centre of either of their foreheads. And holstering his gun, he moves quickly in anticipation of impending trouble; dropping to all fours and then onto his belly, staying as low to the ground as possible as he commando crawls to the opposite side of the SUV, then pushes himself up onto one knee in front of the passenger window. Using a gloved first to bust the window out entirely; hurriedly pulling the remaining shards of glass away from the frame.

“It’s going to be alright. I’m gonna get you out of here.” He speaks to Esme as he removes the jacket from her face and carefully peels it away from her injured body; folding it into a makeshift pillow that he places on the asphalt.

Gently running a hand over her bloodied head, he once more drops down onto his stomach; sliding across the pavement until he’s halfway in the SUV and able to reach for the buckle on her seat belt. Muttering a string of profanities when he discovers the damage to the vehicle is too great; metal and plastic twisted and knocked horribly out of place, effectively rendering the lock completely useless.

“You’re going to be okay, Me,” he assures her, then removes his knife from one of the pouches on the front of his vest; using it to easily slice through the fabric of the seatbelt. Returning the weapon to its holder, he tends to extracting her from the vehicle; hands under her arms as he pulls her towards him. Gingerly sliding her body through the field of glass and debris and across the asphalt; laying her on ground and gently placing her head on the ‘pillow’.

Returning to the inside of the vehicle, he struggles to remove his cell phone from where it still sits clipped to the dash. Grunting and growing in pain and muttering profanities as his fingers slip and fumble on several attempts; finally tearing the device out of the holder and firing off an urgent text message to Nik before returning to Esme’s side; barely getting a chance to check the extent of her injuries before the next surge of trouble arrives; a black sedan squealing to a stop on the opposite side of the damaged SUV. Shielding her body with his own, he places himself on his knees between her and their immobile vehicle, trying to quiet and steady his breath as he waits for the first opportunity to strike. The sight of their attackers' feet finally allowing him to act; pushing himself up into a stand and immediately opening fire. Effectively dropping them where they stand with two bullets to the centre of their chests and a third and final to the throats.

Once more returning to Esme’s side, he’s able to take a minute to catch his breath; fighting through the pain as prepares to reload. Interrupted when Nik’s SUV comes careening to a stop on their side of the road; brother and sister bounding out of the car and exchanging fire with the remaining assailants. And when Yaz snags a flash-bang grenade from his vests and yells out the warning of ‘frag out!’ Tyler drops to his knees; gloved hands protectively covering Esme’s ears to prevent any damage. Finding himself momentarily deafened and disoriented; unaware of Nik and Yaz looming over him until the latter wraps both arms around one of his and helps him to his feet.

Nik reaches up to inspect the blood on his face, frowning at the various cuts and bruises, and the small shards of glass embedded in his skin. “How bad?”

“I’m fine. I’m not worried about me. I’m…”

“You don’t look fine. You’ve got a lot of blood on you and…”

“I said I’m fine. Fuck.” Shoving her hand away, he crouches down in front of Esme. Using an elbow to push Yaz backwards when he attempts to help. “I got her.”

“Let us give you a hand. Just let…”

“I said I got her!” He snarls, sliding one arm under the back of her knees and the other across her shoulders; ignoring the pain that shoots through him as he struggles to stand. And while gives a small whimper and her eyes flicker, they remain closed as he gathers her tight to his chest. “It’s alright, Me. You’re safe now. I got you.”

Nik leads the way to the waiting SUV, using her rifle to cover the buildings to the sides and in front, while Yaz brings up the rear; keeping eyes and ears open for any threats that may arrive. His sister tossing open the rear passenger door and then standing back as Tyler carefully lays Esme across the seat before climbing in. A forearm resting along her collarbone and a hand putting pressure on the gash in the top of her head as he pulls her into him. And it’s the slamming of the door that causes her to finally wake; coming to with a loud, startled gasp. Her eyes wide and terrified, and the initial disorientation causing her ‘fight or flight’ to kick in; squirming and flailing in an attempt to get away from whoever holds her ‘captive’.

“It’s okay…it’s okay…” Tyler tightens his hold on her ear, lips pressed against her ear. “...it’s just me, Esme. It's just me.”

“Millie?”

“Millie’s fine. She wasn’t with us, remember? We sent her with Alcott. Already at the airport?”

“She’s okay?”

“She’s safe and sound. Here…” Leaning forward, he takes an open bottle of water Nik offers from the front seat and holds it to her lips. “...not too fast. Just little sips.”

Esme complies, taking a series of small swigs from the bottle, yet gagging and coughing on the final one. “What about you? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just a little banged up. Nothing for you to worry about. I’m going to take a look at you, alright? Fix you up a bit.”

Accepting a roll of gauze and a package of cotton pads that Nik procures from the open med kit in her lap, he gently parts her hair; finally getting a good look at the large gash that runs several inches the middle of the top of her head to the crown. Using a handful of the cotton pads to absorb some of the blood, he hastily tosses them to the floor of the SUV before laying down a clean, thick layer and then carefully bandaging her head. Covering the pads and then wrapping around her forehead and down onto the sides of her face and under her jaw. His heart breaking with every wince and whimper.

“Can you tell me where else it hurts?”

“Everywhere. I feel like I can’t breathe. It’s too sore.”

“Let me check….” Tearing open the Velcro on her vest, he unzips her coat; sliding his fingertips down the neck of her sweater and gently poking and prodding.

“Broken?” Nik inquires. “The sternum?”

“I can’t tell. I don’t think so, though. Probably just bruised from the seat belt. Maybe a torn muscle.”

“It hurts, though.” Esme’s tears flow, creating voids in the dirt and blood that soil her face. “It hurts so bad.”

“Meds? Nik holds up a small vial of morphine.

“Half,” Tyler instructs. “I don’t wanna knock her out. Just take the edge off a bit.”

Nik does as told; filling the syringe halfway and then leaning over the seat to hand it to him.

“This is probably going to hurt a bit.” Tyler addresses Esme, attempting to stay calm and composed for Esme’s sake; a feat considering the fear and the worry that gnaws its way through his bones and nearly reaches his very soul. And when the jab of the needle through her clothes and into the left bicep causes her to flinch and cry out, he lays his free hand on her cheek and tilts her head back towards him; pressing a series of soft kisses on her cheeks and then one on her lips. Eyes briefly closing as he lays his brow against hers. “I’m sorry. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I’m cold.”

“Here…” Nik hurriedly shrugs out of her jacket, tossing it into the back seat. “...take mine.”

Tyler gives a nod of thanks, then tucks the garment around Esme’s shivering body. “It’s going to be, okay, Me. You’re safe now. No one can hurt you anymore. Those meds will hit you soon. Take the edge off. And once we get to the airport and on the plane, the medic will take care of you. Right now I just need you to try and relax, okay?”

“Millie..”

“I already told you; she’s fine, babe.”

“She’s my baby.”

“I know. And your baby is waiting for you. You’ll see her soon.”

“Promise?”

“I promise. Hey…hey…” Cupping her chin, he squeezes her cheeks between his thumb and forefinger. “...stay with me, alright? You just keep looking at me. Listening to my voice. No falling asleep on me.”

“I’m scared.”

“Don’t be scared. There’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re going to be just fine. You’re going to get all fixed and you’ll be back to normal in no time. Well, whatever normal is for you.”

She attempts a small laugh, then winces.

“I know everything hurts, but what I gave you will start kicking in any minute now. All I need you to do is try and breathe and just stay with me, okay? Can you do that?”

Nodding, she shakily reaches up and explores the various cuts on his face with gentle fingertips.

“Don’t you worry about me. I’ve had a lot worse.”

“That’s an understatement.”

“All that matters right now is you. And getting you to that plane and letting the medic look at you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry about? There’s nothing to apologize for. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just try and relax. Let the meds do their job.”

“I need to rest my eyes.”

“Esme…”

“Not sleep. Just rest them. That’s all.”

“Alright…”

Leaning down, he presses a kiss to her lips, then lays his palm on the top of her head; her eyes closing as his fingertips repeatedly skim across her brow. The fear is unlike anything he’s ever known; an immense heartache that comes with seeing the person you love battered and bruised and struggling to take a breath. It’s soul-crushing; bearing witness to the mixture of terror and pain that darkens their eyes and furrows their brow. And he suddenly realizes how it must have been for her on that bridge; cradling his head in her lap as he lingered on death’s doorstep. Making the decision to put her ass on the line to save his; sticking her fingers into the gunshot wound in his neck in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood.

Her own bloody hands now fearfully clutching at the front of his vest. “Tyler…”

“I’m right here, Me.” Bile burns his throat as he manages a reassuring smile. “I got you. I always will.”

******

He sits at the table in the middle of the jet's small dining area, still clad in his filthy boots, blood-stained utility pants, and a simple black t-shirt. Trays of painstakingly prepared and neatly arranged food and drinks pushed aside to make room for an open med kit; accompanied by various loose supplies, unopened bottles of morphine, and a small mirror. Using tweezers to remove shards of glass from various cuts on his neck and peroxide-drenched cotton balls to clean the wounds; occasionally hissing in discomfort, and wincing in pain.

Nik doesn’t speak as she steps through the curtain separating the area from the passenger cabin; opting to fill two mugs with coffee and then sitting both on the table. Sighing heavily as she drops into the seat across from him, she watches as he tends to his various injuries; both hands clasping her mug, fingernails repeatedly tapping against the porcelain.

“What happened?”

Tyler doesn’t look away from the mirror; his eyes narrowed as he plucks a shard of glass from his left trap muscle. “I don’t know. I honestly don’t fucking know.”

“The roads were blocked. No one could get in or out of the area. Everything was clear. What…?”

“I said I don’t know, Nik. It all went down so fast. They came out of nowhere. I didn’t see them coming, I didn’t hear them coming. One second they weren’t there, the next they were.”

“They just didn’t appear out of thin air.”

“What more do you want from me? You think I just sat back and let this happen? You think I WANTED something like this to go down? You think I liked seeing her like that?”

“I think maybe you might have been distracted. That the altercation with Winston threw you off. You might not have been in the right frame of mind; you were probably trying to comfort Esme and calm her down…”

“She didn’t need to be comforted. Or calmed down. She was fine. I was fine. My head was on straight. So you’re not going to blame me for this. And you’re definitely NOT going to blame her.”

“That’s not what I…”

“I don’t know how it happened. I don't know where those guys came from. I don’t know who they were tied to; Alessio, Winston, the High Table. I didn’t see it coming. There’s no way I could have. It happened THAT fast.”

“Your attention might have been on other things. I warned you; about not keeping focused. You promised me that you’d keep things separate: job Tyler and personal Tyler. You…”

“I never promised that. I told you I would try; do my best to shove the personal shit aside and just concentrate on the job.”

“So I’ll ask again. WHAT happened?”

“Nothing happened. I was in the zone. I was getting shit done. I got her out of there, didn’t I?”

“Barely.”

“We were a block and a half away. From the rendezvous point. I never let my guard down. Not once. I don’t fuck up. And I especially don’t fuck up when I’ve got so much to lose. Have you ever thought maybe Wick’s guys messed up? Or even yours? Where were they, Nik? The people who were supposed to be watching the perimeter?”

“I had already pulled them out. Once you said you were on your way to meet me…”

“Well, that sounds like a ‘you’ problem. That YOU made the wrong call. Why’d you call them off so soon? Why didn’t you wait until Esme and I got to you? Stay on the safe side?”

“Because you were less than three blocks away. And I trusted you to get things done. You had a direct route. To where Yaz and I were. I didn’t think…”

“You didn’t think. That’s exactly it. If anyone fucked up, it was you. So about getting off my ass and putting the blame where it belongs.”

She opens her mouth to respond, but quickly decides against it; noticing the tightness in his jaw and the darkness in his eyes. Instead, she nurses her coffee and watches as he returns to removing glass from his skin and cleaning wounds; using gauze and ‘second skin’ to patch the much larger ones, and even passing a line of stitches through a cut that travels five inches on his left forearm. It’s then that she moves, pushing her chair away from the table and standing; plucking the antiseptic and gauze from his hand as he turns his attention to a cut behind his right ear.

“Don’t…” He jerks his head away when she lays one hand on the nape of his neck and the other attempts to to clean the wound. “Just…don’t.”

“I’m only trying to help. I can see it a lot better. Just let me…”

“I said don’t!” Irritably snatching the gauze from her, he folds it over his ear and shoves his chair away from the table; reaching for his coffee cup with his other hand and sipping at it as he paces the narrow, galley-style kitchen. Repeatedly glancing towards the curtain that separates them from the small area that holds the bathroom and a fold-out cot)

Nik tidies up the medical supplies; tossing used bandages and cotton pads, and empty bottles of saline and antiseptic into the trash. “You need to calm down.”

“I AM calm.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Nik. For ANYONE’S. Not after what I just went through. Not when I haven’t even wiped the blood…HER blood…off me yet.”

“You heard what the medic said. There’s no serious injuries. Nothing life-threatening. She’ll need some time to relax and recuperate, but she’ll be fine. She…”

“No, what he said was that he thinks she’s going to be fine. He THINKS there’s nothing life-threatening.”

“She’s stable. Coherent. Her vitals are fine.”

“But she should still see a doctor. There should be a medical team waiting for us. So we can get a second opinion. THAT’S what he said.”

“And the doctor will be there waiting. I’ve already made the call. As soon as we land and get to my place…”

“Your place? That wasn’t part of the plan. Why…?”

“It’s for your safety. Yours, Esme’s, Millie’s. We don’t know how far Alessio’s reach extends. But if we err on the side of caution, common sense says that his family would have contacts all over the world.”

“And if it was Winston’s doing, we already know he has people all over the fucking globe.”

Nik nods. “The High Table may be planning on dealing with him, but that doesn’t mean he already hasn’t reached out to contacts in Australia. I just don’t want you taking Esme and Millie there and running into trouble. I know you think you can handle it…”

“I CAN handle it.”

“...but I’d rather just eliminate any possible threat before they manage to cause even the slightest of damage. I’ve sent a team to Broome; they’ll separate into a couple of teams and search the house and keep an eye on the neighbourhood. And Alcott and Wick will fly out in the morning; after they’ve gotten some rest. They’ll stay nearby for a couple of weeks; blend in with the locals, keep an eye on the three of you.”

“You really think those two have a chance of fitting in with the locals? Have you looked at them? They look as far from local as you can get.”

“They’ll just be there to make sure nothing goes wrong. Once we eliminate the problems on this side of the globe and we’re certain there’s none where you are, then it’s done.”

“And I’m done.”

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is.”

“I don’t want you rushing the decision. I don’t want you having any regrets; throwing it all away and then six months, or a year, or maybe even two, down the road contacting me and wanting back in.”

“I have a family now, Nik. I’m a dad again. I’m going to be a husband. I’m not making the same mistakes I did with Mia; putting my work ahead of my wife and kid and being out of the house more than I’m in it. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“In a way, you’ll always be that guy. Not someone who intentionally abandons their family or doesn’t know what his priorities are, but one who can’t stay still for too long. You’ve been a soldier three-quarters of your life; in one way or another. You can’t tell me you’d be happy giving this up for good. That you wouldn’t miss the adrenaline and the excitement and…”

“I don’t know what part of ‘I’m done’ you don’t understand, but you need to back off. I can’t do this anymore. This life. I’m not going any younger Nik, and my body was never the same after Dhaka. It took me almost two years to bounce back from that. To even reach eighty percent of who I used to be. I don’t have much to give. Not when it comes to the job. And what health and sanity I DO still have? I’d rather use it up doing something normal. Spending time with my wife and my daughter. Having more kids. Growing old.”

“Tyler…”

“I don’t want to die hundreds…thousands…of miles from home. Alone. In some shit hole you can’t bring my body back from. I can’t do that to Esme. I just can’t. She deserves better than that. So much better.”

“So you’re doing this for her.”

“I’m doing this for US. Because that’s going to be my wife, Nik. And she’s the mother of my daughter and every other kid that’s going to come after her. I love Esme. I’ve always loved her. Even when you were lying to me and keeping her away from me.”

“That’s not what I was doing. I…”

“For once, why don’t you just be completely honest with me? Tell me the truth. You weren’t just keeping Esme’s deep, dark secret. Helping her protect me. There’s more to it than that. I’m not a stupid man, Nik. So don’t treat me like I am.”

“I’ve never…”

“Just tell me the truth. Tell me ALL the reasons you lied to me. You had every chance in the world in the last five years to let me know where she was. To at least let me tell she was alive. Did she REALLY ask you to keep her secret for THAT long?”

“She did.”

“I don’t think that’s true. I think you put some bullshit into her head. Convinced her that it was for the best if she never contacted me. Let me know about Millie.”

“Why would I…?”

“Why? Because you knew I’d drop everything to be with her. That I’d find out where she was and bring her home and make a life with her. And doing that meant cutting ties with the job. With YOU.”

“Tyler…”

“I’m a commodity to you. You make money off of me. Off the things I can do. And that’s how you see me. You don’t see me as a human being. All you see when you look at me is dollar signs. That’s it. You see me as some kind of machine. Only around to do your dirty work.”

“You know that’s not true. You…”

“If I’m not around, you’re not bringing in that big money. Those huge contracts. That’s what you hate; the idea of losing all of that. Because you know that there’s no one out there as good as me.”

“You’re my friend. My FAMILY. You…”

“You fucking abandoned me, Nik. After Esme left, you left me to rot. You didn’t give a shit what I was going through. You pretended you did. You took my phone calls, and talked me down off a couple of ledges, and showed up at my place a few times. But what did you ACTUALLY do for me?”

“I kept you clean. Sober. I…”

“You kept me away from Esme. You kept me away from my kid. You didn’t even tell me I had one. You lied to me the entire fucking time. You knew how bad off I was, and you knew how to fix it, and you didn’t fucking bother. That’s not how you treat a friend. And it’s definitely not how you treat family.”

“She asked me to keep it a secret. She…”

“Tell me the truth. Enough of the bullshit. You owe it to me. I know this wasn’t all her. I know Esme’s heart. And I know, regardless of what she says, it wasn’t all her idea.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t…”

“You never tried to change her mind, did you. You never told her that she should contact me. Tell me she’s okay. And you definitely didn’t try to convince her to tell me about Millie. Because you knew I’d find her. You knew that I’d give up everything to get her back. And you weren’t going to let that happen. You weren’t going to risk it. You wanted to keep me under your thumb. You took advantage of me; when I offered to help you out if you ever really needed it. THAT’S why you didn’t tell me where Esme was. Or about Millie. Because you knew that would all be off the table. Which meant a lot of money would disappear.”

“I never…”

“I’m going to ask her, Nik. As soon as she’s up to it. I’m going to ask her, and she’s going to tell me the truth. Wouldn’t you rather tell it first? Don’t you think it would be better if you did?”

“I think you’re stressed. Tired. Hurting. I think…”

“Tyler?” Millie’s voice interrupts them, accompanied by the swaying and bouncing of the curtain as she tugs on it. “Can I come in?”

Glaring at Nik, he shakes his head in a mixture of disgust and disappointment and then moves to the table. Calling out to Millie as he begins clearing away the last of the medical supplies and the dirty, blood-stained gauze pads and cotton balls. “Yeah, come on in.”

Slipping around the edge of the curtain, the four-year-old scurries to him, wrapping both arms around his thigh and resting her head against him. He runs a hand over and down her hair, then drops to a knee in front of her, cradling her face in his palms and pressing a kiss to her forehead. Offering up a warm, comforting smile, he uses two fingertips to clear hair out of her eyes and away from her cheek, then lays his hands on her shoulders and lightly squeezes.

“You alright?”

Millie shakes her head.

“Talk to me.”

“I’m sad.”

“Because of mumma.”

She nods.

“There’s nothing for you to be sad about. You heard that the medic said; your mum’s going to be just fine. She’s just pretty banged up right now and needs some medicine and some rest to make her feel better.”

“But she’s gonna be okay, right?”

“Of course she is. Your mum’s tough for a little thing. Nothing can keep her down for too long. She just needs to take it easy for a bit. So her body can heal. But she’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

“Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?”

“All of those. I’ll even pinkie promise you.”

“Pinkie promises are the king of promises. The most serious ones. You can’t break those EVER.”

“I’m not planning on breaking it. So pinkie promise?” Tyler offers one of his baby fingers. “When I tell you that mumma is going to be as good as new?”

Nodding enthusiastically, Milie curls her finger around his; giggling when he tightly squeezes and then leans in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’m still gonna be sad, though. I miss her.”

“She’s not far away at all; just right in the next room.” He nods in the direction of the closed door at the opposite end of the dining area. “Sleeping. Doctor’s orders.”

“But I miss seeing her and talking to her and playing with her. And I miss the snuggles.”

“I’m sure she misses all that too. Just like I’m sure that when she’s up to it, she will give you all the snuggles in the world.”

“And I’m hungry. My tummy’s complaining.”

“Well, Auntie Nik made sure that there was tons of food for everyone. All kinds of different things. You wanna go over and take a look? You can tell me what you like, and I can make up a plate for you. Sound like a good idea?”

“And then maybe I can go and see momma? I won’t wake her up. I just wanna see her. Maybe give her a kiss. That’s all.”

“I’ll tell you what, as soon as your mom wakes up from her nap, I’ll take you back to see her. But you’re going to have to be careful with her, okay? Because she’s got a lot of bumps and bruises and cuts and they’re really sore. And we don’t want to make them worse, do we.”

“I just want to see her. With my own two eyes. And kiss her cheeks.”

“Maybe you can even show her all those pictures you’ve been working on. The ones you were making to cheer her up.”

“The ones you said we could get frames for and hang up in the house?”

“Those exact ones. I bet she’d love to see them. They’ll cheer her up for sure. Now come on…”

His knees crack as he stands and he fights back a wince as pain rushes through his body; his muscles impossibly stiff, the wounds fresh and gaping. And Millie’s hand immediately reaches for his; all her fingers closing around one of his as he leads her toward the table and the waiting trays of food and drinks.

Nik watches them together. Noticing the adoring way in which Millie gazes up at him, the striking resemblances in their appearance, and the patience in Tyler’s voice. The tone in which he addresses her is quiet and calm; accompanied by a softness to his features and a sparkle in his eyes whenever he looks down at her. It’s such a juxtaposition; a remarkable difference compared to the torn, tattered, dirty clothes and the various cuts, bumps, bruises, and the blood that stains his hands and parts of his face. Yet Millie appears unbothered by his appearance; standing on her tiptoes as she enthusiastically picks out her favourite foods and offers her unfiltered opinions on those she hates. Announcing that while pancakes are the most delicious in the world, French Toast tastes like ‘total ass’. And after he gets her settled with her plate and a drink and grabs food for himself, she’s eager to be even closer to him; quick to slide her meal across the table and climbing into his lap the moment he sits down.

Nik stays silent and nurses a second cup of coffee as she watches father and daughter together; Millie content on Tyler’s lap, feeling safe and secure and returning -somewhat- to her chatty and bubbly self. Asking seemingly endless questions about her new home in Australia; how far they are from the beach, can they get a swing set for the backyard, a garden to plant veggies in? When will she start school, does he think the other kids will like her? And she enthuses about making new friends; about having playdates and sleepovers and maybe taking dance lessons and gymnastics. And he fields every query with the utmost patience; never babying her, but always offering assurances that boost her confidence and her trust in him.

It’s a side to Tyler that Nik has never seen before; a gentleness that she’s never witnessed, a certain level of vulnerability on display that she never knew he even possessed. Even a glow to his face and twinkle to his eyes that he’s never had before. And she holds off on speaking; until the interaction stops and Millie settles herself back against his chest with a bottle of water and Bluey videos on his cell phone.

“What we were talking about before…”

“Don’t,” Tyler warns. “Don’t go there, Nik. Not in front of her.”

“I just…”

“I said NOT in front of her. She doesn’t need to hear this. I don’t even need to hear it.”

Millie tilts her head back. “I don’t need to hear what?”

“Adult stuff.”

“I hear adult stuff all the time.”

“Well, you don’t need to hear this.”

“Says who?”

“Says me. I’m the boss now.”

“Mommy’s the boss.”

“Not now. I’m here to take over. It’s what dads do.”

“Mommy is STILL the boss. My boss, your boss….”

“My boss, huh? Is that what she says? That she’s my boss?”

“She doesn’t need to say it. You know she is.”

“I wear the pants in this family.”

“Nope. Mom does. She’ll let you pretend you do, but…”

“You’re a real smart ass, you know that? I wonder who you get that from?”

“Definitely from you.”

“You think so, do ya?” Laying a hand over her face, he lightly and playfully jostles her head from side to side. Then pinches her cheeks between them and forefinger, tilting her face upwards and pressing a kiss to her puckered lips. “Did you have enough to eat?” He gently pats her stomach. “You feeling good?”

“I’m full! My tummy feels super fat!”

“Mine does, too.”

“We can be chubby together!”

“Sounds like a good plan. Think mumma will still love us? When we’re chubby?”

“Mumma will love us no matter what!” Yawning noisily, she wriggles around in his lap; until her legs are on either side of his waist and her stomach is flat against him. Her one arm curling around his neck as a thumb wedges itself firmly in her mouth.

The latter he doesn’t discourage; remembering Esme’s ‘warning’ that it’s a coping mechanism when Millie is anxious or stressed. Instead, he rests his chin on top of her head, holding her tightly against him with a hand on the nape of her neck. The fingers of the other draw slowly, smooth patterns on her back until he feels her completely relax against him; her lashes tickling his skin when her eyes flutter closed and her arm slipping from around his neck and falling loosely to her sides. And it’s so bittersweet; his heart feeling both full and grateful for the trust and love she has in him, but aching for the years he’d missed and the trauma she’d been through.

“I’m doing the right thing, Nik. By her. She’s gone long enough without her dad, don’t you think?”

She nods.

“None of this had to happen. I didn’t have to be kept out of her life. Had I known about her, I could have saved her…and her mother…from all of this. And so could have you. Deep down you know that, yeah? That if you’d only just told me…”

“It was never my intention. For any of this to happen.”

“And you not only kept Millie from me, you dragged her mum back into this life. She never really wanted this. She wanted to be AWAY from it. It was always the plan; buy a house, get married, have kids, never think of this life again. And now look. Look at what’s happened. What you’ve done.”

“If we could sit down and talk about things without outside influence and…”

“No more talking. There’s nothing left to say. Not about this anyway.” Wrapping Millie tightly in his embrace, he pushes the chair away from the table and stands. Two long strides taking to him the curtains that separate them from the passenger cabin.

“Tyler…”

“I’m done, Nik. Not just with this conversation, but with this life. I can’t do it anymore. Millie needs me. So does her mum. And to be honest, I need them just as much. If not more.”

“You don’t have to walk away entirely. You don’t…”

“Once everything is settled and you’ve taken care of shit in New York, that’s it. You gotta cut me loose. Lose my number. Pretend you never even knew me if you have to. It’s just time. For me to move on. Try my hand at normal.”

“Do you really think you’ll be happy with that? With that kind of life?”

“I walked away before. Started making a life like that. Only it was taken from me. And KEPT from me. I’m not going through that again. I lost Esme once. There’s not gonna be a second time.”

*****

“Momma!”

“Easy…easy…” Three hours later, Tyler snags Millie by the back of her shirt before she can manage to pounce onto the cot. Making a game of tossing her high in the air; effortlessly catching her before lowering her down towards her mother.

“Amelia…” Her tearful mother reaches out for her; arms and hands trembling from a mixture of the pain meds lingering in her system and the shock that her injured body is still experiencing. Managing to squeeze her daughter as tight as both will allow, she showers Millie’s cheeks, forehead, and lips with kisses.

The four-year-old struggles to hold back her tears, her chin and lower lip wobbling as her tiny hands clasp her mother’s cheeks. Careful of the various bruises and cuts. “You scared me, momma! I was so worried about you!”

“I didn’t mean to frighten you. That’s the last thing I would ever want. Are you okay?”

Millie nods. “I’m fine. No bad guys came after us. Why did they hurt you? And Tyler? Why…?”

“Because they think I deserve to be hurt. Because I told on Alessio’s family.”

“‘Cause they’re bad people?”

“Very bad. And I had to tell on them. So they couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

“If they’re bad people, they deserve to be in trouble.”

“They certainly do. Have you been a good girl? YOU haven’t been any trouble, have you?”

“I’ve been really good, I promise. I played on Tyler’s phone, and watched some Bluey, and drew some pictures, and then had a really big lunch!”

“And took a nap,” Tyler adds. “We both did.”

“It was a REALLY good nap,” Millie says. “I had a dream about going to the beach! But when I woke up, I remembered that I need a new bathing suit. Remember? How my one from this summer is too small now?”

“We’ll get you a new bathing suit. We’ll get you a whole bunch, even. One for every day of the week. Because something tells me we’re going to spend A LOT of time at the beach.”

“Tyler said he’d teach me how to surf! He said we could be surfing buddies. He also said you always tried to learn, but you were never any good at it.”

“Oh really…” Esme smirks up at him. “...he said that, did he?”

“I also told her that what you lacked in skill and talent, you made up for in enthusiasm.” Setting Millie down on the edge of the cot, he once more gently reminds her to be careful of her mother’s bruised and battered body.

“Are you feeling any better, momma?” The little one picks up one of her mother’s hands in both of her own. “I don’t want you to be hurt. It makes my heart super sad.”

“That’s because you have such a good one. A HUGE one. Just like your daddy. I think you get all your really good stuff from him.”

A grin tugs at the corners of Tyler’s mouth. “I think your mumma totally underestimates herself.”

“Is the medicine making you better? Did the doctor say you’d be okay soon?”

“He said it’s going to take a little bit,” Esme explains. “For my body to heal up and get back to where it was before. But the medicine DOES help; it makes the ouchies not hurt so much. You don’t need to worry about me, okay? I’m going to be fine. Nothing that a lot of rest won’t fix.”

“Tyler and I can take care of you. For as long as it takes. We can bring you breakfast and lunch and supper in bed, we can sit and watch TV with you, we can read to you. And cuddle and take naps!”

“All the things that will heal me up in no time.”

“Speaking of helping your mumma heal…” Tyler smoothes a hand over Millie’s hair. “...why don’t you go and finish that picture you're working on and then bring everything here. Show her what you made. I’m sure that’ll cheer her up.”

“I would love to see your pictures. All of them.”

Millie slides off the cot and rushes for the curtain, then hurries back to peck her mom on the lips.

Esme waits; giving her daughter a chance to slip out of the room and be out of earshot. “Has she been alright?”

“She’s had a couple of rough moments,” Tyler admits, dropping to a knee at her bedside. “It was hard on her; seeing you unconscious and all banged up. Nik tried to get to her before she managed to see much, but…”

“She’s tough. Like you.”

“Naw, I think she gets that toughness from her mum.”

“She’s doing okay, considering?”

“Like I said, we had some rough patches, but she got through them. She’s just worried about her mumma.”

“Something tells me you are too.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“You’re not the only one that can be a worry wart.” Reaching up to clear the longer strands of hair off his forehead, she frowns as her fingertips search the various wounds and abrasions adorning his skin. “Are YOU okay?”

“Just some cuts and bruises. Nothing serious. I’ve had worse.”

“WAY worse. Got a lot of blood on you, though.”

“Haven’t gotten the chance to get cleaned up yet.” Capturing her hand in his, he pushes his fingers through hers and places a kiss at the base of her wrist. “And besides, most of it isn’t even mine.”

“Mine?”

He nods, then leans in to press a kiss to her brow.

“Did you talk to the medic? What did he say?”

“He’s not a hundred percent sure. When it comes to your injuries.”

“But…”

“You’ve got a few broken ribs, probably a bruised kidney and liver And the seat belt fucked up your chest; it’s why you were having such a hard time breathing. He doesn’t think anything’s broken, but it’s going to hurt like hell for a while. Probably a torn muscle. Or two.”

“What about my head?”

“Cut it open pretty good. Needed seventeen stitches. And you’ve got a pretty bad concussion. We’ll have to keep an eye on you; just in case there’s something worse going on in that pretty little head of yours. How ARE you feeling? A little better? You got a lot of meds in you.”

“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. Oh, wait…” She manages a small, pained laugh. “...that’s because I was.”

“I am so sorry, Me. I am so fucking sorry.”

“For what? None of this is your fault. You didn’t…”

“I got distracted. Let my guard down. If I’d just kept my head in the game…”

“Tyler…” She tightly squeezes his hand. “...you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I was supposed to protect you. Get you out there. In one piece.”

“Last time I checked, I hadn’t lost any pieces.”

“You weren’t supposed to get hurt. I was supposed to get you to the airport and onto the plane…”

“And you DID. I’m here, aren’t I?”

“It came way too close to you NOT being here.”

“But I AM. You got me here. Admittedly a little worse for wear, but…” She reaches up to affectionately tousle his hair, wincing as the IV needle pinches her skin.. “...I’m breathing, aren’t I?”

“Thankfully.”

“I knew you would do this. Beat yourself up. Blame yourself. You did the same thing after Dhaka. Spent nearly a whole two months after you were released from the hospital obsessing over it; second guessing every decision you made. Dhaka wasn’t your fault. In the same way this wasn’t.”

“I just hate it. Every fucking second. Seeing you this. I’m used to being where you are. Not on this side of things.”

“It’s better that it was me this happened to. If it had been you? I wouldn’t have been able to get you out of there. I wouldn’t have been able to fight off all those threats. We never would have made it here. We never would have seen Millie again. She wouldn’t have her mom or her dad.”

“If you’re trying to make me feel better about all of this…”

“I just want you to see how I look at things. How I look at YOU. We’re only alive because the shoe WAS on the other foot. Because you had to be the one to get me out of there. Get us BOTH out of there. It would have been a disaster if had been any other way. And you know that.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words, then leans in to kiss her. The long, soft press of closed mouth upon closed mouth; his eyes closing as he briefly rests his forehead against hers. And his free hand comes to rest on the top of her head when he pulls away; fingers pushing through her hair, the tips gently massaging her scalp. “We’re going to stay at Nik’s for a few days. There’ll be a doctor meeting us there; he’ll check you out, make sure the medic didn’t miss anything serious. She’ll keep him on call. In case anything goes wrong and you need more care.”

“I hope THAT doesn’t happen.”

“And she’s going to send some people to Broome. Make sure there’s no trouble waiting for us. The last thing I want is to bring you and Millie there and something bad happening.”

“If you think that staying away for a few days is for the best…”

“I do. I don’t want to take any chances. Not with you and Millie. Especially not with her. It’ll give us some peace of mind; knowing that everything’s been checked out and cleared. You’re alright with that?”

“I trust you. To make the right decision for us.”

“I’m not sure you should. Considering the mess you’re in right now…”

“I’m alive because you protected me. All those times you’ve told me that you’d do anything for me? Stop at nothing to keep me safe? I’ve never doubted it. Not once.”

“I can’t wait until this is over. Until it’s all behind us.”

“And then that’s it? It’s done? YOU’RE done?”

“Yeah…” Giving her a reassuring smile, he pecks the tip of her nose. “...I’m done.”

“It’s going to be weird. Not being part of this world at all.”

“Weird in a good way, I hope.”

Nodding, she runs her knuckles along his jaw. “In a VERY good way.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction 2 #Rake Lives #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 24

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @themaradwrites @munstysmind @thebejeweledwatercat @fanficanatic-tw @asirensrage @kmc1989 @karimac @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Warnings: profanity, (very minimal) gun violence, (brief mention) blood, (minor) physical violence (I mean, the guy's a mercenary, mmmkay)

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/132270193

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

******

As smoke billows heavily from the garbage room and fire alarms blare, he leads her down the hall; a firm, protective hand on the back of her neck as they blend seamlessly into the steady flow of guests that head for the closest stairwell. Taking an alternate route would have caused too much suspicion; The Continental’s clientele well-versed in how to be deceptive and how to spot those guilty of the same. The majority is immensely loyal to Winston; with eyes that are forever curious and peeled and ears that are always open and lurking for even the smallest hint of trouble.

Drawing attention is the last thing he wants; keeping his rifle pressed tightly against his side as he makes random, mundane small talk with a clearly nervous and fearful Esme. Knowing that his voice -if kept low and steady and reassuring- is enough to calm her down and keep her focused; needing both his presence and the security and the confidence that he’s always been able to instil in her. Using both words and the pressure on her neck to keep her moving; encouraging her to match his slow and steady gait as opposed to adopting anything more frantic and hurried.

The growing crowd notices nothing amiss; intently focused on the reality of their situation as opposed to what others are doing around them. Chattering and grumbling to one another in a mixture of confusion, slight concern, and immense annoyance; questioning the cause of the fire and bemoaning disrupted naps and schedules as they pull on sweaters and overcoats. He never makes eye contact; his hand slipping from the nape of Esme’s neck to the small of her back as he steers her towards the stairwell. Pausing to hold the door open for others; accepting the words of appreciation tossed in his direction and returning them with nothing more than a simple nod. And when the last person begins making their way down the stairs, he lingers briefly on the threshold; waiting until the others are a flight below before turning on his heel and quietly closing the door behind him.

Fishing the lone key from his jacket pocket, he jams it into the control box and turns it all the way to the left; the toe of a filthy, well-worn combat boot rhythmically tapping against immaculate, gleaming marble as they wait for the elevator to reach their floor. Beside him, Esme nervously rocks back and forth on her heels and chews anxiously on the inside of her cheek; her eyes fearful, her complexion a washed out, almost sickly gray. Taking advantage of the lull in activity, he reaches out to gently tug on her hair; shooting her a wink and flashing a brief yet reassuring smile when she glances up at him.

The lift noisily rumbles to a stop, and as the door opens, he moves his hand to the small of her back; applying firm yet gentle pressure as he encourages her to step on, then directs her to stand against the side wall. Out of sight in case an employee beckons the elevator from another floor; wanting to avoid both a confrontation and the chance of her impending departure getting back to Winston.

He shoves the key into the control panel; holding it in place as his free hand activates the two-way radio clipped to his vest. “We’re in the elevator now. Heading to the basement, level one.”

“Copy,” Nik responds. “We’re right behind you; southwest stairwell, seventh floor.”

“Any word from Wick? About the outside?”

“He’s stationed across the street. Taken up position on the roof. His people are here; fire trucks out front, men inside checking the situation, evacuating people. Should make it easier for you to get around.”

“Armoured car?”

“ETA three minutes. It’ll be waiting for you.”

“How much time do I have?”

“Fourteen minutes. Before the hotel’s security system goes back online.”

Esme urgently tugs on his sleeve, whispering: “Ask about Millie” when he glances down at her.

“Have you heard from Alcott? About how things went?”

“They made it safely out of and away from the building. Met no resistance. They’re at the designated spot; Wick will join them once you and Esme are away from the building and you give the all-clear.”

“Millie?”

“I’m assuming she’s fine. Alcott didn’t say otherwise. No news is good news.”

“What about Winston? Any sign of him?”

“Not that I was told. I know that doesn’t exactly fill you with a sense of confidence…”

“I’ll handle him. If I have to.”

“Tyler…”

“We talked about this. You know where I stand. I’ll handle him.” Releasing the comms button on his transmitter, he gives Esme a small yet reassuring smile. “She’s good. They didn’t have any problems getting outta here. They’re a few blocks away, waiting on us to get the fuck out. And to pick up Wick.”

Esme breathes an audible sigh of relief. “I’ve just been so worried about her. She’s just so sensitive, you know? I know she’s tough and resilient, and she’s crazy smart, but she’s still just a little girl. It’s always just been her and I, and it was hard enough telling her that she couldn’t come with us, never mind sending her with someone else.”

“I don’t necessarily like the idea of her with other people, either. But it was the right decision to make; if things go wrong, at least she isn’t around to suffer because of it. And like you said, she’s in great hands.”

“I don’t trust many people when it comes to her. I wouldn’t send her with just anyone.”

“I know. I trust your instincts. And your choices. I wouldn’t have gone along with it if I didn’t.”

“I just didn’t want you to think that I’m neglectful or thoughtless or that I just leave her with random people. I just…”

“I don’t think any of those things. I never would. You did the right thing for Millie. Do you really think I would have gone along with it if I didn’t think that?”

Esme shakes her head.

“Stop doubting yourself. You’re a good mum, Me. You’re an amazing mum. You’ve done right by her. And I know it wasn’t easy; doing it all yourself. There’s no doubting how much you love her. How you’ve devoted your entire life to her.”

“She’s my baby. She became my entire world. And if anything happens to her…”

“Listen to me.” Laying a hand on the back of her neck, he firmly squeezes. “Nothing is going to happen to her. Alcott will make sure of that. She’s safe. And you’ll see her soon. I promise.”

“You’re not worried about her? Or scared or…”

“You kidding? I’m scared shitless. But I know she’s gonna be alright. She’s with people that would do anything to protect her. I wouldn’t have gone along with sending her with them if I didn’t truly believe that. Now…” He re-checks the tightness on her vest. “...what I need you to do is just breathe. Stay calm, keep your eyes and your ears open, and let me know if something doesn’t feel right. Okay?”

She nods.

“You just gotta breathe, Esme. Just breathe and trust me.”

“I do. I DO trust you.”

Patting down the pockets on her coat, he reaches into the left one and removes a black, purple and pink striped beanie. Gently slipping the garment onto her head and then giving her a wink as he tugs it down over her ears. “It’s cold out.”

She manages a smile; briefly leaning her body into his before once again issuing a long, heavy sigh. “Please tell me you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“You KNOW.”

“What YOU know is that I hate when you talk in riddles.”

“You’re not going to go after him, are you? Winston?”

“Not intentionally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You either are, or you aren’t. What…?”

“I’m not going looking for him. That’s not what I’m here for. I’m not going to search the place; hunt him down like a rabid dog. Even if it IS what he deserves.”

“But?”

“If he tries to stop me from getting you out of here, then I’ll deal with him.”

“Tyler..”

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want hear about the fucking rules of this place; how they're the only thing separating us from the animals. Or whatever bullshit he likes to preach. And I especially don’t want to hear about The High Table. Those fuckers have caused enough damage and enough problems to last a lifetime.”

“They are not the people you want to piss off. Haven’t you learned that by now? That they’re not the type of people you want to cross? After everything they did five years ago…”

“I already talked to Nik. If it comes to having to kill Winston and live with The High Table on my ass, she and Yaz will make sure you and Millie were kept safe. Taken care of.”

“So we basically just go back to the way things were? You in one place, us in the other?”

“If it has to be that way, then…”

“It doesn’t have to be that way. Five years wasn’t enough? I realize that was all my fault, and I can’t go back and make a different decision; I can’t ever erase what I did or make things right. But we just found each other again. After YEARS apart. And Millie just finally got her dad. And you’re willing to just say ‘fuck it’ and throw all that away?”

“I don’t want to fight. Especially right now. I don’t…”

“I’m not trying to fight. I’m trying to make sense of it. We are so close to having everything we wanted. Everything we should have gotten five years ago. And yet, you’re okay with losing that? For a second time? I don’t…”

“I’m not okay with anything. It’s not like I want to throw it away. It’s not like I love the idea of things going back to the way they were and…”

“You can’t retaliate. I know you’re pissed off; about that sniper coming after you and putting Millie in danger. And I know you hate this weird, gross obsession that Winston has when it comes to me. Believe me, I don’t particularly like the thought of it either. I understand why you’d want revenge. Part of me wants it to. But to go against The High Table and put a target right on your back…”

“I don’t care about me. If it comes down to protecting you…”

“You think it’s caring about me to put yourself in danger like that? Do you think that’s caring about Millie? You think we want you having to spend the rest of your life looking over your shoulder?”

“Don’t I already do that?”

“Trust me when I say this, Tyler: there isn’t anyone you’ve gone against that is as vicious and cold-blooded and unforgiving as The High Table. They won’t just kill you. That’s going easy on someone, as far as they’re concerned. They will make you suffer. They will abuse you and torture you until you’re begging them to put a bullet in your head. Even then, that won’t even be enough. They’ll stop and give you a few days rest and then start all over again. And that will last weeks. Maybe months. Maybe even years. Do you think I want that? Them doing things to you? I already saved you from that shit once. Don’t make me do it again.”

“Don’t threaten me with that. Don’t…”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m begging you. Please don’t go after him. Don’t let him reel in you like that. He wants you to react. He wants you to snap and do something drastic because he knows he can’t bring you down any other way. None of his threats have worked. Offering you money didn’t work. The sniper didn’t get the job done. And he’s not going to get his own hands dirty. He wants you to draw blood on Continental grounds so that The High Table will come for you. How can you not see that? That he will do whatever he has to ruin everything. To ruin YOU. Don’t fall for his shit. You are way too smart for that.”

“I can’t let him hurt you. I can’t let ANYONE hurt you. And if he gets in my way…”

“If you’re not going to think of yourself, at least think of me. And Millie. We NEED you. We’ve always needed you.”

“You’ve already done almost five years on your own. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known. If you have to…”

“It isn’t about ‘having to.’ It’s about not WANTING to. I don’t want to do this alone anymore. I didn’t want to do it alone the first time! I am begging you, Tyler. Don’t do this to me. To Millie. To US. Please don’t.”

“What am I supposed to do? If he tries to stop us? If he won’t let me take you out of here. How am I supposed to handle that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t…”

“Well, you better figure it out fast.” He glances up at the illuminated numbers above the elevator doors. “Because we have two floors to go and if we step out there without a fucking plan…”

“I don’t know. I don’t…” Briefly closing her eyes, Esme takes in a long, quivering breath. “...I’m just begging you not to kill him. I’m not saying you can’t defend me. Or yourself. He won’t break the rules; he’s not going to draw blood on Continental grounds.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do know that. He’s not above The High Table. NO ONE is. He breaks one of their golden rules, and they WILL punish him. They will strip him of his management, deconsecrate this place, and allow it to become a bloodbath in here. He knows it, and he won’t even chance it. The power that comes with running The Continental and being in The High Table’s good graces are what matters most to him.”

“You’re sure of that.”

“I’ve spent enough time here…enough time around Winston…to know what he treasures most of all. And it isn’t me. It’s power. He won’t risk losing that. Not even for you.”

“So we just talk it out? What do we do? If he tries to stop us? You better hurry, Esme. Because once those doors open…”

“You just can’t draw blood. You can threaten him. You can rough him up. You just can’t kill him. You find another way to handle things. You’re smarter than you think, Tyler. Way smarter. If anyone can handle Winston and play him at his own game, it’s you.”

“So I’m allowed to at least beat the shit out of him?”

“Within reason. If you start, you have to know when to stop. Don’t cross a line you can’t cross back over. That’s all I’m asking. Because I love you, and I need you. And I’m trying to protect you. So just please…PLEASE…remember who you’re dealing with and what he wants from you. And DON’T give it to him.”

Tyler nods slowly as he considers her words, then lays a hand on the back of her neck and pulls her into him. Covering her mouth with his in a long, deep kiss that lasts until a melodic tone announces that the elevator has reached its final destination. Pulling away, a gloved hand tightly squeezes her neck. g “We’re going to be alright.”

“Stronger together than we are apart.”

“Yeah…” He offers a slow yet shaky grin. “...we are.”

*****

The rifle moves slowly; controlled by a steady and confident grip as it makes sweeping passes over closed doors, hidden alcoves, and empty hallways. The silence within the bowels and dark recesses of The Continental deafening; exacerbating the sound of every breath they take and the brush of their soles against the cement floor. Coming to an abrupt halt when voices puncture the stillness; muffled conversations within the laundry room as employees shut down equipment and prepared to evacuate the building. And when they grow louder and closer, and he hears the faint squeak of an opening door, he mutters a "fuck...fuck....FUCK" and seizes her by the front of her vest; quickly and aggressively dragging her into an alcove. His back pressed against the wall as he pulls her much smaller and lighter body into his; a forearm draped across her collarbone and a hand covering her mouth in order to ensure her silence.

When the threat passes, he issues a sigh of relief; an arm ushering her behind him as they once more continue their journey. Vaguely aware of the hold she has on his jacket; her footfalls light and quiet as opposed to his awkward, shuffling gait. His weight and size proving to be detrimental; creating unwanted noise that seems to echo throughout the basement and bounce off the surrounding walls. And they’re fifty yards away from freedom when it happens; an unmarked door tossed open, followed by cocky, smirking Winston stepping out into the hall.

“You really didn’t think you’d get away with this, did you? That I wouldn’t catch wind of your little plan? That someone wouldn’t give you away? Not very smart, are you.”

“Stay back,” Tyler warns. “Don’t come any closer. Don’t…”

“You came into my home, where you’re certainly not welcome, and proceeded to ignore every rule laid out in front of you. Not to mention disrespected not only me, The Continental itself, but all of those who seek and take refuge here. Just who the hell do you think you are?”

“I’m the one that’s getting Esme out of here. Away from you. Out from under your thumb. It’s over, Winston. She’s not yours to protect. She never was.”

“You seem to forget that if it weren’t for me, she’d be long dead. And so would your child. In fact, that little one would have never even been born. She exists BECAUSE of me. Because I opened my doors to her mother. Because I gave her a safe haven. Which is something you couldn’t do. Something you’ll NEVER be able to do.”

“I’m going to need you to take a couple of steps back. ‘Cause if you come any closer to her…”

“In case you haven’t noticed by now, Mister Rake, you don’t intimidate me. Not in the slightest. I’m not threatened by you, nor am I scared of you. And I certainly don’t respect you.”

“Never thought I’d say this, but we actually have something in common. Because I feel the exact same way about you.”

“You are under MY roof. This is my home. My KINGDOM. Mine and mine alone. I certainly didn’t want you here; your type is never welcome at The Continental. And believe me, I did everything in my power to prevent you from even stepping foot in this city, never mind this establishment. But even I have my limits. My weaknesses. I admit that I DID succumb to her…how should I put this…feminine wiles.”

Esme hurries out from her ‘safe place’; managing half a step before finding herself blocked by his much larger, heavier body. “And what the fuck is THAT supposed to mean?

“Get back,” Tyler orders, using a forearm to once more tuck her behind him. “Don’t engage. Don’t even look at him. Just stay right there and keep quiet.”

“You know exactly what that means,” Winston informs her. “You have an uncanny ability; the gift of being able to manipulate people into doing exactly what you want. A well-placed smile or pout. Those big, dark eyes. That ‘damsel in distress’ air that you so easily adopt. Even those well versed in your true self fall for it; strong, noble men that never crack under pressure, never break a sweat under even the most dire of circumstances. You act shy and coy and sweet and…”

“That’s not true. I’ve never acted like that. Not with you. Not with ANYONE.”

“You’ve made a living…and a very lucrative one at that… doing those very things. Isn’t that why you’re here in the first place? Why you needed my help? My protection? For years you’ve conned the very best; talked and flirted and lied and…if I may be so bold…even whored…”

“Don’t talk to her like that,” Tyler snarls. “Don’t you EVER…”

“... your way into their good graces. Their lives. Their BEDS. How long have you gotten away with it? How many men HAVE you fooled? How many have fallen in love with you, only to have their entire world crumble underneath them?”

“Those were jobs,” Esme argues. “Nothing more. Nothing less. That’s all they were. I never…”

“Never what? Meant to take things that far? Use them in ways that go far beyond your job description? You can’t tell me that Alessio was the first that you devoted so much time and energy to. Eight months. Nearly three-quarters of a year. You became part of his family and even accepted his proposal. You allowed him to raise your daughter, you…”

“He treated Millie like complete and utter shit! Like she was subhuman. He wanted to send her away! To boarding school! A four-year-old! A baby! He…”

“And just who enabled his behaviour? Who allowed him to be around the child? Who was so desperate to have a father in their daughter’s life that…”

“You fucking asshole!” Esme lunges forward; immediately finding herself snagged by the hood on her jacket and aggressively yanked backwards.

“Stop!” Tyler orders. “Just stop. This is what he wants. He wants us to react. Lash out. Do something stupid. So just get behind me and stay there. And don’t say another goddamn word!”

“That’s Millie he’s talking about! My daughter! OUR daughter! She’s just a little girl. A baby. She…”

“He’s using her to get to you. To get to US. Now just get behind me and stay there. And keep quiet. Got it?”

“But…”

“Got it?”

She tearfully nods, then obediently tucks herself behind him.

“You are noble.” Winston addresses Tyler. “I will give you that. Perhaps not the most intelligent, but…”

“I’m only going to tell you once. Get out of the way.”

“So gallant. So eager to protect And so damn devoted. To a fault, even. Do you not see what she’s doing to you? The pattern? Isn’t this how it all began? You protecting her? SAVING her?”

“Winston, back away. Before…”

“Before what?” The older man chuckles. “Before NOTHING. Are you that oblivious? To how you’re being played? Not just once, but TWICE?”

“I’m not taking the bait. I know what you want from me. You want me to snap. You want to be able to paint me as unstable. Unhinged. An unnecessary threat. You want to be able to tell everyone that you acted in self-defence. That I had no reason to act the way I did. You want to be able to kill me; break all the High Tables rules. And then get away with it by making up some bullshit on how it was justified.”

“Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you are more intelligent than I give you credit for.”

“It’s not going to work, Winston. No matter what you say or do. I’ve had much worse said to me. DONE to me. By WAY better.”

“She’s using you, Mister Rake. Just like she used you in Dhaka. She has no morals. She doesn’t care who she hurts. She brings men like you…like US…to our knees. She…”

“You and I? We are nothing alike.”

“We are EXACTLY alike. As much as it pains me to admit it. She’s conned us both. Used us. Manipulated us. Only with you, she got away with it TWICE.”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. You know nothing; about Esme and I and what went down between us and Dhaka.”

“Word travels fast in the circle. You should know that by now. You should also know that you’re the laughing stock. Everyone talks about it. About YOU. You may be a hero. You may be a legend. But you’re also a damn fool.”

“I’m only going to tell you once more, Winston. Get out of my way. You either move on your own, or I do it for you. And you don’t want that, believe me.”

“I’ll tell you something else. What happened two days ago? In your room? It’s the last time I hire an outsider. To get a job done. It was simple; I told them who the target was and exactly where to find him. Yet here you are. Standing in front of me. Still breathing. You’re a hard one to kill, Mister Rake.”

“I fucking knew it. As soon as it happened. I knew you were behind it. Why? Of all places to try and take me out, why there? With Millie in the room? She’s a baby. MY baby. Why…?”

“Unfortunately, when it comes to war, there’s always collateral damage.”

The rage is overwhelming. All consuming. And in one quick movement, he drives the butt end of his rifle into the side of Winston’s face; the older man roaring in both surprise and pain as he drops into a bloody heap. Blood thunders in his ears as he tosses the weapon aside and then stalks towards his prey; placing a knee in the middle of the other man’s chest as he changes his method of attack. Restoring to using his fists; raining punches down on Winston’s already battered head and face. Oblivious to Esme's initial orders and then her desperate pleas for him to stop; ignoring her as she attempts -in vain- to pull him away. Unable to control either strength or aggression, he pushes her away; causing her to lose her balance and fall heavily onto her rear in the middle of the dirty floor.

“Tyler! No!” As he reaches for his rifle, she scrambles to her knees and then her feet; rushing towards him in a frantic attempt to yank the weapon from his hands. Both arms wrapping around one of his as he places the muzzle against Winston’s forehead, finger poised on the trigger. “Tyler! Stop! Please don’t do this! Don’t…!”

“Just step away, Esme. That’s all you gotta do. Just step away.”

“Please don’t,” she tearfully pleads. “You don’t want to do this. It’s not worth it. HE’S not worth it.”

“You heard what he said. It WAS him. That tried to kill me. Millie was right there. She was in the room. That sniper aimed right at her.”

“Tyler, this isn’t what Millie would want. You kept her safe, yeah? You made sure nothing happened to her. You SAVED her. She’s alive because of you. And she’s waiting for us. She’s waiting for YOU. Her dad. She needs you, okay? She’s always needed you. And I’m sorry that I didn’t make that happen. That I kept her from you. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I never meant for it to get this far.”

“You have nothing to do with this. With HIM. So just step away and…”

“You and Millie just found each other. After all this time. You get to be a father again. And she finally gets her dad. The one she’s been asking about. Don’t rob her of that, okay? Don’t rob her of you. I already did. Don’t you do it to her, too.”

“Esme…”

“I can’t let you do that to her. I just can’t.”

“He deserves it. For him to have his head fucking blown off..”

“Maybe he does. But I don’t want you to be the one who does it. We are so close. To having everything we ever wanted. Please don’t throw that away. Please don’t throw ME away.”

Initially pressing the muzzle harder against Winston’s head, he finally relents, index finger slipping off the trigger as he backs away. And while Winston stumbles to his feet, Tyler once more takes hold of Esme’s hand and guides her behind him.

The older man smirks; using his tie and the sleeve of his suit jacket to clear the blood and sweat from his face. “You realize you just signed your death warrant. Both of yours, for that matter. You drew blood on Continental grounds. That’s rule one: no business is to be conducted on company property.”

“Just let us go, Winston,” Esme attempts to reason with him, struggling to remain calm despite the hammering in both chest and head. “It doesn’t have to go any further than this. It doesn’t have to escalate. Just let us go.”

“You know that can’t happen. It WON’T happen. I was never going to let either of you escape. The child, yes. She has many people who love her. Who will gladly step up and take care of her in your absence.”

“You’re going to kill both of us? Is that it? That was always your plan?”

“I’m not going to kill you. Why would I waste such a wonderful, beautiful asset? I’m not a stupid man, Esme. Don’t treat me as such.”

“When I told you I was hiring Tyler, and you agreed to let him into The Continental, you told me you’d let us go. That we’d be free to just walk out of here. You PROMISED me.”

“Well, you see, my love, like you, I too have to lie from time to time. To get my way.”

“You’re fucking crazy. Why would I ever stay here with you? Why would I want to? Especially after all of this. You think I’d just forgive you? For everything you’ve done? For keeping my daughter from me? For killing Tyler? You think I’d just learn to be okay with all of that?”

“I can have your daughter brought back. At any time. All you have to do is ask nicely and…”

“And do as I’m told? Is that what you were going to say? All I would have to do is be a quiet, obedient, submissive little thing, is that it? Play along? Be a trophy for you; someone you could parade around? Show off? Feed your ego? Cure your limp dick? Is THAT what you were going to say?”

“You are a feisty one. Always have been. I can give you a life. A very good one at that. You’ll never want for nothing. There’s nothing I can’t give you. Why won’t you let me do that? Give you the world? Why…?”

“I would rather put a bullet in my fucking brain than spend another minute here with you.”

“You’ll learn to love it. Life here. Where you’re safe.”

“I’m not staying here. So you’re going to have to kill me, too. Because I’ll do it myself. I’ll find a way. I will NOT be some toy for you.”

“But you’ll be one for him? Some ‘no one’. You’ll accept a life with THAT? Over one with me?”

Esme remains defiant. “I’d rather be his whore than your wife.”

“You really would choose him? An alcoholic, drug-addicted mercenary who abandoned his dying child?”

“Don’t talk about him like that.” Her hand disappears underneath the hem of her jacket; fingertips brushing against the handle of the Glock. “Don’t EVER talk about him like that. Don’t even say his name.”

“I don’t know who is more blind. Him or you. He can’t see what you’re doing to him, and you can’t see him for who he truly is. A nobody. No more than some two-bit thug who…”

“Winston, I am warning you. DON’T talk about him like that.”

“You’re more foolish than he is. You realize that, don’t you? The fact you would turn down a life with me for a pathetic, miserable existence with him? He doesn’t deserve you. Don’t you see that? He’ll never change. This is who he will always be. He’ll never give this up. This life. Not for you, not for your daughter. You can’t change him. You can’t save him. No matter how desperately you want to.”

Slipping the gun from its holster, she removes it from under her coat before either man has a chance to stop her.

Winston gives a mocking chuckle.. “And what are you going to do with that, little one? What…?”

“It’s not what I’m going to do. It’s what YOU’RE going to do.”

“And that would be?”

“You’re going to let us out of here. You’re going to keep your promise. Or I will put a bullet in your fucking skull.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Like I told Alessio earlier. I don’t bluff.”

Behind her, the doors to the kitchen swing open, and she quickly pivots; training the gun on the figure that strides into the hallway.

“Miss Drummond,” Both Charon’s voice and eyes are soft. Reassuring. Kind. And he holds his hands up in a plea for peace, signifying to both Esme and Tyler that he poses no threat. “If you would be so inclined as to hand me your weapon.”

“I can’t. Not unless he lets us go. He’s going to kill Tyler. And keep me here. Away from Millie. He’s…”

“He’s going to do no such thing,” Charon assures her and slowly reaches for the weapon; giving a calm, gentle smile as he gingerly plucks it from her hand. “You’re safe. You’re BOTH safe. No ill is going to come to either of you.”

“But he said…”

“What he said doesn’t matter. Nothing is going to happen to you. Either of you. You’re going to walk out of here. Together. And you’re going to be reunited with your little girl. Very soon.”

“It was him, you know. That hired that sniper. To kill Tyler. He didn’t care that Millie was there. She could have been killed, too. And he didn’t even give a shit. That’s my little girl. My baby. And he didn’t even care.”

“I know. Of his involvement. The news of such I didn’t learn until this morning. But she is safe now. She’s away from here. This place. This life. And if you want to see her again…”

“It’ll never happen,” Winston interjects. “My people are already on their way. They’ll be here in minutes. So I suggest…” He glances at Esme, then at Tyler. “...that if you have anything to say to each other, you do it now. Or you won’t get the chance.”

“There is NO ONE coming,” Charon informs him. “There is no cavalry.”

“I called them myself.”

“As did I. After you hung up. It’s been called off. And they’re free to go.”

“You can’t make that decision. You…”

“No. But The High Table can. You’re not the only one with friends in power, sir.”

“You’re lying. You’re…”

“I NEVER lie. You should be expecting a visit from The Adjudicator. The High Table was very concerned that you hired someone to do business on Continental grounds. Not even you are above the rules.”

“First Jonathan, now you? Charon, how could you? Betray me like this? After everything we’ve been through. The years we’ve spent together. The battles we faced. All the things I’ve done for you. And THIS is how you repay me? This…”

“THIS is the right thing to do. Now…” He regards Esme over the top rim of his glasses, then holds out the Glock. “...you can be trusted with this? Rule number one…”

“I can be trusted.”

“Good. Now I suggest you leave. The way you have planned. I will meet up with you. At the airport.”

“You’re coming with us? Why? Why are you…?”

“I’m merely tagging along. To make sure you get to your destination. Safely. But if something does happen in the meantime…” Cradling her face in his palms, Charo presses a kiss to each of her cheeks. “...it has been a pleasure, Miss Drummond.”

As tears well in her eyes, she stands on her tiptoes and embraces him tightly. “Thank you. Not just for this. For EVERYTHING”

“I have very much enjoyed your company. And your friendship.”

Shouldering his rifle, Tyler plucks the Glock from Esme’s hand and slips it into the waistband of his pants, then wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her tight against him. He gives Charon an appreciative nod. “Thank you.”

“We will see each other soon, Mister Rake.”

“I hope so.” He begins leading a trembling and terrified Esme away. “I really fucking hope so.”

******

As an armoured SUV waits for them outside the shipping and receiving, Tyler’s eyes quickly scan the immediate buildings for any sign of trouble; any figures lurking in open windows or within the shallow recesses of doors. And when he’s certain it’s safe, he jumps off the platform and then turns to assist Esme. His arms outstretched and waiting for her to make her move; easily and effortlessly catching her and then placing her on the ground. Holding her securely by the wrist as he pulls her in the direction of the vehicle; opening the door with one hand, the other shielding the top of her head from coming in contact with the frame. And he waits until she buckles herself in before shutting the door and hurrying for the driver’s side; slipping behind the wheel and throwing down the overhead visor, allowing the keys to fall into his lap.

“Well…” He guns the ignition. “...that went to shit.”

Esme attempts an apology. And an explanation. “I’m sorry. He just knew exactly what buttons to push. First talking about Millie, then about you. I just couldn’t take it. I couldn’t hear another word. He just kept going and going, and I just snapped and…”

“What did I tell you? About listening to me? About never second-guessing a goddamn thing?”

“I just couldn’t listen to it. As if admitting to being the one to hire the sniper wasn’t enough…”

“Esme, I told you to stay quiet. To not engage with him. And I didn’t tell you just once. I told you multiple times. To just shut up and get behind me and let me do my job. Why don’t you listen to me? Why can’t you just do what you’re told? Why…?”

“He just got to me. It was just too much. I can usually handle what people say about me. And I don’t really care that he called me a whore and…:

“I sure as hell fucking cared.”

“...and accused me of being a liar and manipulator. Because I WAS those things. When it came to the job. I DID do those things. I did lie, and I did manipulate people.”

“It was always a means to an end. You did what you had to do. It was work. That’s it.”

“He said the exact same things Gaspar did. About me. About US. About how I used you to get out of Dhaka. And that’s not true. I didn’t lie to you, and I didn’t manipulate you. And I didn’t use you.”

“I know that. I…”

“Everything that happened between us, everything we said to each other, everything we planned? It was all real. Every second, every word. None of that was fake. And for TWO people to insist on it?”

“If I didn’t believe it then, what the hell makes you think I’m going to believe it now? I don’t give a fuck what Gaspar said. And I sure as hell don’t give a shit about anything that came out of Winston’s mouth. I was there too, Esme. In Dhaka. In that hotel room. And it all felt real. It never felt anything BUT real.”

“I just wanted to make sure, that’s all. That you know that none of what Winston said is true and that….”

“Esme, I KNOW. I’ve ALWAYS known.”

“And then when he started in on Millie and then you…”

“Listen, as much as I would love to be able to just sit here and unpack all of this with you and assure you that everything is okay…that WE’RE okay…I can’t do it. Maybe later, but not right now. I need to get us the fuck out of here. Away from this place and out of this city. Out of this COUNTRY. So I’m going to need you to let this shit go. For now. Okay?”

She nods.

“I also need you to toe the fucking line. Because back there? With Winston? That almost ended very badly. And I don’t want to have to deal with something like that again. So, please…I am begging you…listen to me. Do as I say. Got it?”

Tears well in her eyes as both chin and lower lip tremble. “Got it.”

“And please don’t do that. Cry. Because I can’t deal with that right now. I can’t be who you need me to be when you’re this upset and close to freaking out. You hired me to do a job, yeah?”

She nods.

“Then let me do it. Or we are NOT going to get out here. Cooperate. Please.”

“I will. I just…”

“No more. No more talking about this. Just sit there and be quiet and…” His words trail off as his SAT phone vibrates within the confines of the inner pocket of his jacket. And he mutters a ‘fuck me’ as he pulls it out and jams an index finger into the ‘talk’ icon.“What?!”

“Where the hell are you?” Nik inquires. “We’ve been waiting here. At the rendezvous site. Where…?”

“I got a little held up.”

“A little?”

“We’re on our way now. Be there shortly.”

“You’re fifteen minutes past the deadline. Of when the security systems came back on line. Why haven’t you been answering me? On your radio? Did something happen to it or…?”

“I turned it off. In the basement.”

“Tyler…”

“Look, we had an issue, alright?”

“What kind of issue?”

“One I don’t have time to explain. I’m trying to fucking drive!”

“Do I need to remind you who's in charge? Who your boss is? Who gives you orders and signs your paycheck? Do I..?”

“Fuck off, Nik!” He barks, then hangs up and tosses the phone onto the dashboard; unleashing a host of profanities when it bounces off and falls to the floor at Esme’s feet.

Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, she glances over at him, then down at the cell. And she strains against her seat belt as she leans over to pick it up; placing it in the hands-free holder clipped to the dashboard.

For several minutes, they remain in silence as they make their escape; grateful for the clear and easy path created by the slew of emergency vehicles provided by Wick’s men. To the untrained eye, the FDNY badges and logos seem legit; boldly plastered on the handful of engines and SUVs that not only keep the street directly in front of The Continental car and pedestrian free, but have succeeded in closing down all intersections within a three block radius in each direction.

The closer they get to their meet-up point, the more steady and confident his nerves become. With the confrontation with Winston now pushed onto the back burner, it makes room for cautious optimism; allowing himself to think of not only being reunited with Millie, but of finally being able to start his life -as a partner, soon-to-be husband, and a father- in his homeland. He’s anxious to share the things he loves with his little girl; already dreaming of teaching her to surf and taking her camping and fishing and dirt bike riding. Witnessing as she thrives and grows and gets accustomed to life ‘down under’; making friends and falling in love with the people and the wildlife and taking on an accent.

It’s those thoughts that release the last of the tension in his shoulders and jaw, feeling remarkably lighter as he glances over at Esme; watching as she nervously chews on the inside of her cheek and fidgets with the ties on either side of her hat. He regrets how harsh he’d been with her; the aggression he displayed, and the way he’d barked at her and ordered her around. Lowering himself to reprimanding her as if she were nothing more than a petulant child.

Dropping one of his hands from the steering wheel, he gently sweeps dirt and debris off the thighs of her jeans. “You’re not hurt are you?”

She glances over; a quizzical frown knitting her brows together.

“I didn’t mean to push you as hard as I did. I just meant to get you out of the way. I didn’t…”

“It wasn’t THAT hard. You didn’t hurt me. I just lost my balance. I…”

“That was a pretty hard fall. I didn’t…”

“Tyler…” She grabs a hold of his hand before he can remove it from her leg; managing a smile as she tightly squeezes. “...I’m fine. Honest. Remember when I talked about being thicker too?”

“Oh fuck, not this again…”

“Most of that thickness is in my ass. I didn’t feel a thing.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, it’s just made your ass even better. And it was pretty awesome before, so…”

“And you excuse me of unprofessional talk?” she teases. “Aren’t you supposed to be the mature and sensible one in this situation?”

“Fuck mature and sensible. You talking about your ass being thicker? All I can think about is that saying. About ‘more cushion for the pushin’.”

“You are nothing if not predictable,” she chides and releases his hand. “I KNEW as soon as I mentioned my ass, your mind would go there. Right into the gutter.”

“I was a total prick back there. I didn’t…”

“You weren’t. You…”

“No. I was. I shouldn’t have talked to you like I did. You didn’t deserve that. You…”

“You had every right to. I haven’t exactly been the most cooperative client, have I?”

“You’ve been a challenge. I thought maybe the last five years might have calmed you down; gotten you over that whole ‘I listen to no man’ stage.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I tend to listen to you more than other men.”

A grin tugs at the corners of his mouth. “That’s not saying much.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. That I just didn’t shut up and do what I was told. I didn’t exactly follow my own advice, did I? About not letting Winston get under our skin.”

“No, you did not.”

“Like I said, I don’t really care what people say about me. I’ve been called way worse by way better. But when he brought up Millie and then started threatening you and talking all kinds shit about you…”

“I’m a big boy, Esme. I don’t need you to protect me.”

“That’s bullshit, and you know it. You DO need me. In more ways than you’ve ever been willing to admit. I may not be able to protect you the same way you do with me, but I can still have your back. Defend you. Take care of you.”

“And I’m still going to tell you that you don’t need to.”

“We’re going to have to come to some sort of impasse, Tae. Because…” She pauses when she sees the slow, almost boyish grin that spreads across his face. “...what? What’s that little smile for?”

“Nothing. I just haven’t heard you call me that in a long time. I missed it.”

Smiling, she reaches out and rubs his thigh, then squeezes his knee. “I missed saying it.”

“You gotta promise me that you’ll try and rein it in. How much you worry about me. Want to take care of me.”

“You know that’s impossible. It’s just who I am. Who I’ve ALWAYS been. When it comes to you. I’ve always cared too much and worried too much. That’s not going to change, you know. So I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree. About whether or not you need to be protected or not.”

“As long as you promise you won’t go too Mother Hen on me. You know I can’t handle it when you start that babying shit.”

“You are so full of it. You like it when I baby you. I mean, who else is going to put up with you when you’ve got the man flu? You’d probably drive other women completely crazy. They wouldn’t know how to handle you. You’d break them for sure.”

“Well, your sister always was amazed about how I managed to never break YOU in half.”

“I’m made of tough stuff, I guess. Momma didn’t raise a quitter. Or a coward." Yanking off her beanie, she smoothes down her hair and fixes her ponytail. “Did you know? About Charon? That he was part of all this?”

“All I knew was that Nik had someone on the inside. Who got her the blueprints of the hotel, security codes, and all kinds of info. I never would have thought it would be him, though.”

“What do you think made him turn? Against Winston?”

“You heard him; he said it was just the right thing to do. What happened the other day probably pushed him over the edge; the sniper even going after Millie.”

“You never told me that. That they intentionally targeted her.”

“I didn’t see a need to. There was no reason to upset you more than you already were.”

“That must have been terrifying. It’s one thing for people to come after you; you’re used to it. But for them to go after her?”

“I handled it. I did what I had to do. To keep her from getting hurt. But if I ever find exactly WHO pulled that trigger…”

“I give you full permission to shoot them in the head. After you torture them. Slowly and extremely painfully. Do you think he’s going to be okay? Charon? Winston isn’t going to take this lying down; he’s going to view it as a massive betrayal.”

“Winston isn’t dumb enough to try anything. Charon’s got The High Table on his side. Which means, in some weird, fucked up way, they’re on our side too.”

“Better than having to worry about them coming after us. Let’s just hope we never have to call in any favours. Rely on them for anything. Because if I ever have to resort to THAT…”

It happens quickly. Leaving no time to time to react or prepare for impact. The roar of an engine, the glare of headlights cutting through the thin veil of fog, the screeching of brakes. Safety and security suddenly and brutally ripped away; bodies violently jostled within the confines of the SUV as horns blare, glass shatters, and metal crunches and crumbles.

And then, silence.

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake #Extraction/John Wick crossover

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter Twenty

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity.

*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @tragiclyhip @secretaryunpaid @theesirenteller @asirensrage @residentdormouse @ninjasawakenedmystar @ocappreciationtag @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @thebejeweledwatercat @kmc1989 @karimac @themaradwrites @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/127894162

My tag list is open!! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

Chapter Summary: Tyler Rake, John Wick, and Alcott walk into a bar...

*****

They make quite the threesome in The Continental lounge. Wick with his American drawl, infamous slicked-back hair, and all-black attire, Alcott with his crisp English accent, neatly tailored pants, and cashmere sweater, and Tyler in his ‘casual best’. A simple black Henley shirt and well-worn and faded, olive green cargo pants he’s had for years; tattered around the cuffs and sporting holes in the side pockets.

Three entirely different yet somehow similar men; a combination of unique backgrounds yet familiar circumstances. Their lives filled with loss and heartbreak, and their hands drenched in the blood of many.

And their bank accounts much fuller because of it.

“Now explain this to me again,” Alcott implores from his middle seat at the bar, nursing the remains of his drink. “Like I’m a three-year-old. Because the information is just not getting through. You’re not telling her WHY?”

Sighing, Tyler takes a sip of water. “It’s not that we’re NEVER going to tell her. It’s just that we’re waiting.”

“Waiting for what? Hell to freeze over? Pigs to fly? Just what are you waiting for?”

“For the right time.”

“And just what constitutes the ‘right time’? The child’s existed for nearly five years. She’s been asking about her father for almost a full two of those. If you ask me, there’s no time like the present. She already admitted to loving you. What more do you need?”

“It doesn’t matter if she already loves me or not. Esme and I agreed; that we'd hold off on saying anything.”

“But why? If the little one is already this attached to you and you…by my brief albeit brilliant observation… are already attached to her…”

“She’s been through enough. I mean, it’s been a hell of a four days for US and we’re grown-ass adults. She’s not even five. A baby still.”

“Baby or not, she’s resilient as hell and stronger than either of you are giving her credit for. You don’t think it would be a welcome surprise? In the midst of all the bullshit? Don’t you think it wouldn’t give her something to smile about? To learn you’re her dad?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think.”

“It matters a hell of a lot. It’s your damn swimmers that helped make the child. You’ve got more of a say in this than you realize. Don’t be a pussy, Rake. I know you love the woman, but stand up for yourself. Tell her to shit or get off the pot.”

Smirking, Tyler sips at his water. “You saying something bad about Esme? Of all people?

“I’m not saying anything bad about her. I’m simply saying she’s being foolish. That this is all just a bunch of horseshit. There’s no reason to keep it from her. It’s not like it’s horrible news. For either of you.”

“You gonna say all that to Esme’s face? Tell her she’s making a mistake? Being foolish?”

“No. And you’re not going to tell her I said it, either. I’d prefer to keep my balls exactly where they are, thank you very much. And you…” He nudges Wick with his elbow. “...does any of this make sense to you?”

In response, Wick bobs his head from side to side, then shrugs his shoulders.

“What the hell is that…” Alcott mimics the gesture. “... supposed to mean?”

“It means I don’t have a horse in this race. I’m just here to listen. To support. Not throw my two cents in.”

“How very diplomatic of you. I hope you’re not going to be like this when we get out onto the street. All passive and shit. I can barely carry my own weight most days, I don’t need to be carrying yours as well.”

“Job me and ‘real life me’ are two totally different people.”

“You must have an opinion. One way or another. Does it make sense to you, or is it just the stupidest damn thing you’ve ever heard of?”

“My opinion means nothing. I’m not taking sides in this. I’m not a father. I don’t have kids.”

“What does that matter?”

“It matters a lot. It means I don’t have a leg to stand on when it comes to telling other people what to do with their children.”

“I don’t have any either…”

“That you know of,” Tyler mutters.

“...but I know when something is purely idiotic. And this is about as idiotic as it gets. Tell us. Come on. How do you feel about all this? What do you THINK about it?”

“I think…” Wick downs his bourbon and then waves the empty glass at the bartender. “...I need another drink.”

“You alright, mate? Do you need to talk about it? Whatever you’ve got going on? ‘Cause there’s a couch over there…” Alcott nods in the direction of the lounge. “...and you can lie on it and I’ll sit next to you and you can talk to me like I’m a therapist. Gonna cost you, though. One sixty-five an hour.”

“And would that be in US dollars or pounds?”

Sighing in exasperation, Alcott turns back to Tyler. “You realize this is a stupid idea, yeah? Keeping it from her? That little girl is smarter than any of you are giving her credit for. And she’s been wanting a dad in her life since she’s practically been old enough to talk. I know you think you’re protecting her, but…”

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to do. Protect her. She’s been through enough. More than any kid should have to go through. So we’re just giving her a little bit of a break and…”

“Hearing that you’re her father IS the break. That bit of good news in the midst of all the bullshit. Don’t you think it’ll lift her spirits? Especially after what happened this morning? That incident scared her to bits; she needs some kind of assurance that her entire world isn’t going straight to hell. That she’s safe and secure and no one else is going to hurt her.”

“And I can give her all of that. I can keep her safe. I can stop anyone from getting to her. She doesn’t need to know I’m her dad for all of that to happen.”

Wick speaks up. “If I may be so bold…”

“Oh, now you have something to say,” Alcott chides. “After you get a fourth one into ya. Need the booze to loosen your lips and tongue, do you mate?”

Tyler nods, signifying for him to go ahead.

“I can’t believe I’m going to say anything because I’m trying not to put myself right in the middle of your personal life. But…”

Tyler scowls. “Mate, you’ve been in it for years. Since you kept Esme’s whereabouts a secret. And then didn’t bother telling me about my kid. You have been knee-deep in my personal life for a while.”

“I did what was asked of me,” Wick defends himself. “Esme’s my friend. She needed my help. I gave it to her. And I wasn’t going to betray her confidence. For anyone. And I’m sorry; if that puts me on your shit list permanently. But I did what I had to do.”

“It wasn’t up to any of us to tell you where she was or that you had a kid,” Alcott adds. “None of that was ours to tell. She asked for our help, we gave it. It wasn’t anything personal against you. Although I still think she could have done a hell of a lot better than a two brain cell having, knuckle-dragging, nappy-headed bastard from Queensland.”

“I think it would do Millie a world of good to hear that you’re her dad,” Wick continues. “She needs something to hold onto, some kind of bright spot in all of this. She’s a little kid, and little kids need to know that everything is going to be okay. Hell, even us adults need to know that from time to time. She’s been asking about her dad for a while; who he is, where he is, why hasn’t she met him? And she doesn’t just get on her mom about it. She’s asked me. More than once.”

“She’s asked me several times,” Alcott admits. “She even once asked if I was her dad. I said to look at me and look at herself in the mirror. That alone should tell her I’m not the one that put the bun in her mother’s oven.”

“I just think that this is something that could undo some of the damage done this morning,” Wick says. “We all see how much she adores you. And vice versa. If she’s already head over heels and doesn’t know, imagine how she’ll be when she finds out. And I just can’t help but believe it’s better if you do it sooner than later.”

“Listen to him,” Alcott addresses Tyler. “That’s a man that knows what he’s talking about.”

“Ten minutes ago, you were worried he was going to get you killed out on the street. Now you’re kissing his ass?”

“We’re on the same page. Both of us feel it’s best for Millie if…”

“What do you either of you know what’s best for Millie? For MY daughter? She doesn’t belong to either of you.”

“Maybe not, but we’ve known her longer,” Alcott points out. “As much as I’m sure that hurts to hear.”

“Not my most favourite thing to think about, no.”

“The truth is, we’ve been in her life from the start,” Wick says. “When she was still inside her mother’s belly. Both of us have changed her diapers, fed her bottles, read her bedtime stories, tucked her in…”

“She’s puked on me more times than I care to remember,” Alcott adds. “And believe me, her mother will eventually get my cleaning bill.”

“Why would you think I want to hear this? You’re not making things any better, mate. I’m already pissed off enough. Bringing things like THAT up? Are you trying to get her ass handed to you or…”

“No one is trying to rub salt in the wound,” Alcott assures him. “But the fact of the matter is that we do know Millie better than you do. For now, anyway. I mean, I let her call me Uncle Duey, for fuck sake.”

Wick swigs his bourbon. “I’m Uncle John-John. Killer by night, Uncle John-John by day. My, how the mighty have fallen.”

“She’s a damn good kid,” Alcott continues. “Her mother has done an amazing job with her. And you should consider yourself lucky; you didn’t manage to knock up someone who would have gotten rid of your spawn the second they found out about it. This isn’t exactly the life we strive to bring kids into, is it? Give them dads who kill people for money?”

Tyler frowns; brow furrowed as he drums his fingertips against his glass. “That’s not all we do.”

“Aww mate…” Alcott chuckles and slaps a hand down onto his shoulder. “...don’t sugar coat it. Don’t romanticize it. That’s EXACTLY what we do. And one day, that little girl is going to grow up and she’s going to find out what her daddy really does for a living and…”

“What I DID for a living,” Tyler corrects him. “Past tense. By the time she’s old enough to understand it, I’ll have been out of the game for a few years.”

Alcott waves down the bartender. “The fact of the matter is that she WILL find out. Right now, you’re just the cool friend of her mother’s who can kick ass and take names. That’s how she sees it; you’re big and you’re strong and you’re here to keep her safe from the bad guys. But once she’s older…”

“I just think it’s better if she knows about you being about her dad before THAT happens,” Wick pipes up. “That’s my opinion. Take it with a grain of salt. But…”

“You must want her to know,” Alcott says. “That you’re her father. How could you NOT want her to know?”

“Of course I want her to know. You think I like this fucking game we’re playing with her? You think it doesn’t burn my ass every time she calls me by my first name? Or ‘this is my mum’s boyfriend. Do you really think it doesn’t bother me?”

“I think you’ve got a lot of anger stored up,” Wick says. “And I think the more you lie to Millie, the worse that anger is going to get and then you’re going to snap one day and say some shit you’ll regret. And then both her and her mother will be out of there.”

Grinning, Alcott nudges Wick with his elbow. “Now who’s the therapist?”

“I have my moments.”

Alcott addresses Tyler once more. “Isn’t five years enough? Wasn’t that enough time apart? Do you really want to let this shit fester and a year or two down the road, let it completely ruin things? For good?”

“That’s the last thing I want.”

“If Millie is anything like her mother…” The Brit tosses a wad of cash down on the bar when one of the tenders sets down a tray of shots. “...which we already know she is, she is going to be the type to hold one hell of a grudge when she’s older. So you can imagine what that’ll be like? If you keep up this bullshit? The more time that drags on, the more she’s going to resent both of you for not telling her the truth sooner. And the next thing you know, you gotta teenager who can’t stand being in the same room as you and would sooner spit in your face than look at you.”

Wick side-eyes him, then helps himself to a shot. “Are you SURE you don’t have kids?

“I don’t have kids. But I do have brothers and sisters. And I know how lies…even told with the best of intentions…can tear a family apart. Why would he want that to happen when he just got his family together?”

“HE is sitting right beside you,” Tyler reminds him. “HE can hear you.”

“Mate, in the long run, it’s your life. And from what I understand, that life has been quite shit the past few years. Now, you’ve managed to get her back; the woman that you love more than anything in this world. The person you’d gladly give up your own life for. Do you really want to hold onto this shit you’ve got bottled up and risk losing her? AGAIN?”

“It wasn’t my fault. I wasn’t the reason Esme left.”

“You were and you weren’t. You didn’t do anything wrong. We all know that. But she did leave BECAUSE of you. To protect you. And I’m not going to judge that decision and we’re not going to debate whether she was right or wrong. And I’m certainly not going to pretend I understand anything about the situation she was put in…”

“But…”

“Enough lies have been told. Enough secrets have been kept. I think it’s high time that all of that shit stops. For you, for her, for Millie. For all of you as a family. You’re that little girl’s father. Whether you’re ready to be it or not.”

“I was ready to be ‘it’ the second I saw her and knew she was mine.”

“Then do your first good thing as a dad, and don’t lie to her. No more than you already have. She’s smart and she’s resilient and doesn’t have a hateful bone in her body. Not yet. But the older she gets…”

“What we’re trying to say is that you’re going to just fuck things up more,” Wick says. “Or at least that’s what I’M trying to say. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about half the time.”

“I was ready to tell Millie the first day. That I was her dad. But it’s not my decision to make. It’s not…”

“Not alone, it isn’t,” Alcott downs his shot and the winces at the immediate burn. “But it’s half yours. Now I know it’s been a while since I’ve indulged in any extracurricular activities of the sort, but I’m pretty sure it takes two people to make a baby. Unless times and technology have changed since the last time I…”

Wick frowns. “Jesus, how long has it been?”

“Way too long, mate. Way too damn long.”

“But aren’t you…you know…with his ex-wife?”

“On and off. And without giving too much away and completely disrespecting her, I’m sure the big-headed, big-eared Australian and I can agree on the fact that she isn’t the most…what’s the word… affectionate…of people.”

“It’s like fucking a couch,” Tyler grumbles as he slides off his bar stool, then pulls his wallet out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Three or four times every six months.”

Alcott smirks. “Now THAT’S not nice. It’s true, but it’s NOT nice. At all.”

Wick nods in the Australian’s direction. “Where are you going?”

Tyler tosses a handful of bills down onto the top of the bar. “I’m not going to name names, but unlike certain individuals, I have a woman to get back to.”

“That’s right,” Alcott scoffs. “Just rub it in, you prick.”

“I’ll be rubbing it in while you’re rubbing it out.”

“You know, it’s moments like these where I don’t like you very much. Are you the one still holding a grudge? Because I drank all your milk?”

“You’re just damn lucky I hit that coffee cup. ‘Cause the meds had me pretty shaky that day. Be glad you still have your hand. Is that your favourite one? The one gets the most use?”

“I really do hate you sometimes, you know that, yeah?”

“You’d miss me, though. If I wasn’t around anymore.”

“In your wildest and wettest.”

“Last thing I want to do is sit around here, watching you two get shit-faced. Not when I’ve got a warm body waiting for me.”

“I don’t know what she sees in you. You’re certainly not the best catch on the planet. Not even close to it. She can definitely do better.”

“It’s okay to be jealous, mate.” He clamps both hands down on Alcott’s shoulders.. “ Especially when you’re not even on her short OR long list.”

“Now that’s just rude. Those are just fighting words. Give her a kiss, would ya? From both of us.”

“Don’t bring me into this,” Wick grumbles. “I prefer all my limbs attached to my body.”

“Get your beauty sleep, Australian,” Alcott calls to him as he heads through the room. “Good knows you need about ten years of it to look good even in your mother’s eyes.”

Tyler smirks. “That’s okay. Your mother thinks I’m perfect just the way I am.”

“You fucking asshole. You regular fucking muppet. I oughta come over there and rearrange your ugly face.”

Chuckling, Tyler steps out of the bar. “I’d like to see you try.”

******

He’s rougher than he needs to be. Using his considerable size and strength difference to punish her; able to convincingly hide the hurt, anger and bitterness under layers of voracious want and need. And she willingly takes everything he dishes out; her body eagerly responding to the tight grip around her throat, the yanking of her hair, and the brutally hard thrusts that have her crying out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

It had always been her favourite; that tiny body able to withstand enormous amounts of torment in the name of sexual gratification. Something he’d both discovered and marvelled at five years ago; amazed at not only the things she allowed him to do but so openly -and boldly- requested of him. And it remains all this time later, despite their absence from each other’s lives; the awe and the adoration and that powerful, all-consuming mixture of lust and love that nothing -or no one- else could ever come close to measuring up to.

The self-loathing makes a quick appearance; feeling the utmost disgust in himself as he lays in bed beside her. Listening to her soft rhythmic breathing as she sleeps soundly; her back presented to him, yet her head resting in the crook of his elbow, those long, dark tresses fanned out across his arm and the sheets below. He hates himself; for both manhandling her and continuing to harbour such resentment. And while it will be ever strong enough to undo the love and the adoration and pure, unadulterated worship that he’s carried for years, it is enough to slightly tarnish them. To make him feel sick to his stomach and despise himself for ever thinking such negative and hateful ways towards her.

Sighing heavily, he drapes a forearm across his brow and takes in slow, deep breaths; a somewhat successful attempt to chase away the ugliness that festers inside his brain. His own body bearing the effects of just how rough and unhinged things had been between them just two short hours before; deep and painful fingernail trails that crisscross his back and his ribs, bite marks that decorate his collarbone, shoulders, and even the inside of his thighs, a tingling scalp where having his hair twisted and yanked. Incredibly enjoyable at the time; her enthusiasm and her ability to ‘dish it out’ encouraging his intensity even more. But now he feels like shit; the conversations in the bar replaying in his head and his anger -towards both her and the situation that had seen her make the decisions she had- simmering just below the surface.

He’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her stir; the slight shifting of the mattress under her tiny body, the absence of the weight of her head upon his arm as she changes positions. Rolling over under her side and sliding closer to him; a hand coming to rest on his stomach as she nuzzles his ear with the tip of her before pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“Why are you awake?”

He lays a palm on the back of her head; fingertips pushing through her hair to lightly and affectionately knead at her scalp. “I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“I had the weirdest yet mostly satisfying dream. About taking you and Millie to Colorado to meet the fam. My mom picked us up at the airport, called you Crocodile Dundee and insulted your haircut.”

“That’s oddly specific. What happened next?”

“You gave her very detailed instructions on how to fuck off and stay fucked off. I didn’t get right to the end, but I like to think you wrapped things up by slapping the shit out of her.”

“I don’t hit women.”

“Never? Ever? You’ve never hit a woman?”

“What kind of asshole do you think I am?”

“I don’t mean in your personal life. I know you’re not the type. I mean on the job. You’ve never had to resort to it?”

“Just once.”

“Was she a mark or…?”

“Another merc. Working FOR the mark. We got into it. Blood was shed. Only one of us walked away.”

“Well, I obviously don’t need to ask WHO.”

“Yaz got his ass handed to him by one. In Vienna. She absolutely wrecked him. And he’s tough; for such a small guy. But believe me; he couldn’t walk or piss right for a month afterwards.”

“You like to keep up with your friends’ urinating habits, do you?”

“Anyone ever tell you? That you’re a smart ass?”

“You used to tell me ALL the time. Makes me happy to hear it again; means we're getting back to the basics. The good ol’ days. And as for your future monster in law…”

He arches a brow.

“You wouldn’t even backhand her in dreamland? The Wicked Witch of the Midwest? The one who said you kidnapped her only girl and…I quote…’kept her captive in your den of blood and danger and kinky sex’?”

“I mean, she WAS right. About the sex thing.”

“She also called you Ty.”

“Now THAT’S a fighting word. Because of that? I suppose I could make an exception. Knock her out.”

“And here I was, thinking the selling point would be the decades spent making my life a living hell. I thought for sure you’d want to defend my honour. Seriously though…” She lightly runs her fingernails across his stomach. “....why ARE you awake?”

“It’s two thirty in the morning. Why are YOU so chatty?”

“It’s a gift. Answer my question.”

“I’ve always had trouble sleeping. Even back in Dhaka. And especially when we were living together. Come to think of it, I’m starting to see a pattern. The one thing all these places have in common.”

“Maybe it’s better you don’t sleep. Because I might kill you. Smother you with your pillow.”

Chuckling, he wraps an arm around her and pulls her tightly into his side. Lips meeting her brow before resting his chin on the top of her head. “Just got a lot on my mind.”

“When it comes to the job?”

“Are we even calling it that anymore?”

“I mean, you WERE hired. You did show up. And you ARE doing what I employed you for.”

“But? I sense a ‘but’ coming on.”

“Well, there’s nothing really ‘normal’ about it. And Millie and I are definitely not ‘normal’ customers.”

“Everything about this is as far from normal as you can get. It’s personal. Way too close to home. I’m never THIS attached to who I’m looking out for.”

“You looked out for Mia’s sister and her kids. That’s pretty personal.”

“She was my ex-sister-in-law. And it was a job out of pure fucking guilt. Because I felt I owed it to Mia. After everything I had done to hurt her, I figured it was the least I could do.”

“What if you’d died doing it? Was giving up your life the ‘least’ of it, or…”

“At that time? Without you around? I didn’t give a fuck if I was alive or dead. So it wouldn’t have mattered much.”

“It would have mattered to me; if Nik or Yaz or even Alcott got a hold of me and said something happened to you. I wouldn’t have been able to handle that. The fact that I never got to say I was sorry or tell you that I still loved you or to bring Millie to you. So for what it’s worth, I’m glad that never happened. Because I may not have been in the picture, but I would have missed you for the rest of my life.”

Emotion chokes at him, and he places a hand on her hip and gives a tight, affectionate squeeze.

“I was going to come and see you. In Austria. At the prison.”

“Alcott told you I was there?”

Esme nods.

“Why didn’t you show up?”

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I guess I was scared. About how you’d react. It had been almost three years since I’d just disappeared. And you would have had every right to be pissed off enough to have me thrown out of there.”

“I was never THAT pissed off.”

“I also didn’t want it to happen there; the first time we saw each other again. Not exactly the ideal place for a reunion. I don’t think you would have wanted to find out about Millie while you were locked up. Me showing up would have been enough of a shock, never mind THAT.”

“It would have been a hell of a surprise. But I wouldn’t have been pissed off. I would have been relieved more than anything; to see that you were okay and to know that you even gave a shit what was going on with me.”

“I never stopped ‘giving a shit’ about you, Tyler. I worried about you all the time; practically every second of every day. But had I shown up there…”

“You could have been convinced to be a repeat visitor. I could have talked my way into conjugal visits.”

“I probably would have gone along with it. I bet you looked hot in that orange jumpsuit.”

“There is something seriously wrong with you.”

He remains quiet for several minutes, knuckles repeatedly grazing up and down and her spine, her nose pressed against the side of his neck.

“I wrote to you,” she confesses. “Every week for about a year.”

He frowns. “I never got anything.”

“I never sent any of the letters. I just sat down and poured my heart out and then got cold feet about mailing them. So I just put them in a box and tucked them away. They’re actually still in the back of my closet.”

“You kept them all this time?”

“Everything I wish I’d said and everything I should have done differently is in those letters. Even every apology I wish I’d made. There was always unfinished business. An open chapter. And if I got rid of the letters, it meant I was also getting rid of you. And I know I left, and it seemed like I didn’t want you anymore, but I wasn’t ready for it…for US…to be done. I don’t think I ever would have been.”

“Come here,” he beckons and wraps her in both of his arms; enjoying the scent that clings to skin and hair and the warmth that radiates from her naked body.

God, he’d missed it. He’d missed HER. The touch of her hands and the taste of her kiss. The sound of her voice and her laugh. And that smile that’s reserved solely for him; curving her lips and further softening her features and causing her eyes to sparkle and dance. And for several minutes, they lay in silence; the tension and the sadness eased by the familiar weight of her head upon his chest as a large, callused palm continuously strokes her hair.

“Maybe one day you’ll let me read them. You might have chickened out sending them when you wrote them, but…”

“Whenever you’re ready to see them, they’ll be there. And I think it might be good for both of us; if you look at them. Kinda like shutting the door on that part of our lives. Permanently.”

“I don’t think I’m ready right now. I don’t think I’m quite there yet.”

“Take your time. They’re not going anywhere. There’s no rush. I know there’s a lot going on right now; I’ve dumped enough on you in the past four days to last a lifetime. And I never intended to. I never…”

“You haven’t ‘dumped’ anything on me. Using that word makes it something there’s been nothing good. And believe me, Millie is worth more than any of the bad shit. I’d take a bullet to the neck a thousand times over if it meant she’d exist.”

“I just wish things had been different. When it comes to how I handled things. I had the best of intentions. I REALLY did. I panicked; I knew you wouldn’t stand a chance against The High Table, and I had to protect you. If anything had happened to you…”

“I can wrap my head around THAT. What I can’t get past is afterwards. When things went back to normal and they weren’t a threat anymore. That’s what I’m having a hard time getting past.”

“I already explained. I already…”

“I don’t want to be angry.”

“At me?”

He nods.

“You have every right to be, Tyler. I did a horrible thing to you. More than one, actually. And I can justify leaving; I feel I did the right thing when it came to protecting you. But staying under the radar for years and not telling you about Millie…”

“It’s the entire situation I want to be angry at. That I NEED to be angry at. If The High Table never showed up, everything else wouldn’t have happened. You didn’t know they were going to come for you. You thought you were in the free and clear and done with them. And when they came looking for you, you weren’t given much of a choice. It’s them I should be pissed with. Not you.”

“But…”

Firmly gripping the back of her head, he presses a kiss to her temple and then begins to uncoil her from his embrace; hating the absence of contact when he sits up against and leans against the headboard. One leg bent at the knee, he sighs heavily and rakes a hand through his hair and then runs both palms over his weary face.

“Do you think we can actually TALK about this? Without hurting feelings?”

Gathering the quilt around her naked body, Esme sits up as well. “I think feelings are already hurt, don’t you?”

“Without hurting them even more, then? Because I don’t want to fight, Esme. That’s the last thing I want. There’s enough bullshit going on without adding that to the list.”

“I don’t want that either. And I don’t want to fight about this, especially. But if talking is what you want to do…”

“Like rational, reasonable adults.”

She nods in agreement.

“First thing’s first. I need to ask you something. And you gotta promise me it won’t piss you off.”

“How bad is what you’re going to ask that you need a promise like that?”

“It’s not that it’s bad. It’s just…I don’t know…you might think I’m stupid for even thinking about it, let alone asking.”

“And you accuse me of being that one that talks in riddles? What…?”

“Did you and Alcott have something going?”

She can’t help but laugh. “What?”

“Did you ever have anything going with him? Relationship wise?”

“No. No. Omg, no. Never.”

“I mean, a relationship of ANY kind. Maybe you never boyfriend and girlfriend thing, but…”

“There’s no ‘but’. There has NEVER been anything between us other than friendship.”

“Did he ever want there to be?”

“Not that he’s ever told me. Or acted on. Colleagues and buddies, that’s it.”

“What about you? Anything YOU wanted? Or acted on? Or…”

“Tyler, men and women ARE capable of being just friends.”

“You and I weren’t.”

“You and I are in an entirely different league. We always have been. From pretty much the second we met. You never denied it; feeling ‘something’ right away.”

“Lust. It’s called lust. You know how there’s ‘love at first sight’? Well, that was lust at first sight.”

“Yeah, there was a lot of lust. But it was more than that and you know it.”

“Did you feel anything like that for him or…?”

“I have never felt anything for Russell. Other than platonic love. And maybe wanting to smack the shit out of him from time to time.”

Tyler smirks. “Russell. That’s kinda personal, don’t you think?”

“It’s his first name. What else am I supposed to call him?”

“Everyone calls him Alcott. EVERYONE.”

“Probably because they don’t know his actual name IS Russell. I like to call people by their first names. Especially my friends. You’ve always been a little uptight about these kinds of things; you’ve always hated the idea of anyone else being in my life. You don’t even like the fact I was married before we met.”

“What I hate is WHO you were married to. And the shit he did. That’s what I hate.”

“Admit it, you can’t handle the thought of me with anyone else. I bet you stressed about it constantly during the last five years.”

“No.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“Sometimes.”

“I have a history. I have exes. So do you. You were married before me. You don’t see me obsessing over it. I mean, I don’t particularly like the idea of hearing about your slutty bachelor days, but I realize back then you had commitment issues. You’re a red-blooded male with needs and…”

“And you’re a red-blooded female. With needs.”

“Needs I was more than happy to tend to on my own. You’re the type that prefers having a participant with those things. Me…”

“I am more than capable of handling things on my own. Figuratively AND literally…”

“...I don’t need sex. I have gone YEARS without it. I’m capable of surviving without it.”

“That makes me feel great. Thanks for that.”

“If it’s already not glaringly obvious, I enjoy sex with you. I love having it with you. I could have sex with you all day, every day. For the rest of my life. But the fact is, I never gave a shit about it until YOU. It wasn’t a necessity. I’d never been with someone who could get the job done, know what I mean? I always relied on myself for getting there.”

“You have dated some real fucking winners, haven’t you.”

“I may not need sex, but I WANT sex. And I want it with you. Only you. No one else. And seeing as we haven’t seen each other in five years…”

“What about Alessio? You slept with him. You were going to marry the guy.”

“This isn’t about Alessio. Who was a job.”

“I’ve never had a job that required me to fuck someone.”

“I was his fiancee. I was playing a part. If I didn’t do THAT? He would have known something was up. And maybe it was drastic; going to those extremes. But I did. I allowed myself to feel beautiful. And wanted.”

“I wanted you.”

“And I fucked that up. I know that. But other than him? And this playing pretend? There’s never been anyone else. I haven’t wanted to be with anyone but you. And I tried. Not the sex thing, but the dating and the relationship stuff. I met people. Men, women. I went out a few times. And you know what? Every time they tried to take things further? All I did was compare them to you.”

Tyler blinks at her honesty.

“I have never wanted anyone else. I’m not afraid to admit that. And there’s never been a damn thing between Russell and I. He kept me updated on things you were doing; he contacted me about Georgia and Mia and her sister and all of that. And told me about you going to prison. Other than Millie, he was the strongest connection I had to you.”

“And Nik. And Yaz. All these people that knew you were okay.”

“All people I swore to secrecy and hated every second of it. They didn’t want to lie to you. I especially didn’t want to. And I don’t get your hang-up with Russell and me. You don’t ever question my friendship with Yaz.”

“That’s because he’s Yaz. He may have a huge hard-on for you…”

“He has a hard-on for me? What? He told you that?”

“...but I know you wouldn’t give him the time of day. Not like that. I know you see him like a little brother. But Alcott..”

“It’s because Alcott’s like you, right? He reminds you of yourself. And because I lusted you immediately and fell in love with you so quickly, it must mean it happened with him too.”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t know why it bothers me. How close the two of you are.”

“All I can do is tell you the truth. And reassure you. As many times as you need it. There has never been anything between us. On either of our parts. Nothing has even come remotely close to crossing a line. I know I hurt you and I betrayed you and you don’t exactly trust me right now…”

“I trust you. With my life. With my daughter’s life.” ‘ “...but I wouldn’t lie about this. I don’t see him in that way. I don’t see anyone in that way. It’s just you, Tyler. That I’ve wanted. It’s always been you. It will always be ONLY you.”

“You’d tell me, yeah? If there’d been anyone else? During the last five years? OTHER than that dick head, Alessio.”

“You were honest with me; about sowing your wild oats all over Australia and many parts of Europe. Why would I not tell you the truth? There hasn’t been anyone else. And there especially hasn’t been anything with Alcott. And there never will be.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

“On a side note, he’s banging your ex-wife, you know.”

“I don’t care what he’s doing to my ex. She’s my ex for a reason. She stopped being any of my concern a long time ago.”

“You were concerned enough to help her. To take the job. Put your life on the line to get her sister and her kids the hell out of Georgia.”

“It was a job. I was being paid.”

“Maybe. But there’s a history there. You were married to the woman. You had a child with her. I know the kind of guilt and regret you carry around. You can’t tell me those didn’t play a part.”

“How did we go from talking about us to talking about her? How…?”

“You want to talk. So let’s talk. Let’s get it all out there. Say the things we need to say. You’re not the only one who’s been holding onto some shit.”

“And now who’s worried about someone else’s history?”

“I don’t care about your history. I care about YOU. And when I heard about that job…”

“You left. I wasn’t the one who took off. You were. So I stopped being of any concern to you. Second you walk out that door…”

“No. It never stopped. I never stopped worrying about you. I didn’t leave because of something you did. Or didn’t do. I never took off because I didn’t love you. I took off because I did.”

“You know how you always say ‘opposites attract’? When it comes to us? Maybe most of the time, that’s true. But it’s not with this. You left, Esme. You left ME. Just like I left my boy. So we have THAT in common, don’t we.”

“I never blamed you for leaving your son. I said it was a stupid thing to do. I still think it was. But I also told you I understood why you did it. I sympathized with you. I still do. It was a horrible, horrible thing to go through; seeing your child sick and wasting away. And you’d never been taught coping skills and you had all that toxic masculinity and you…”

“Why did you leave?”

“I told you. I left to protect you”

“We could have found a way. To fight back. So tell me, why didn’t you stay?”

“I was scared and I was worried and I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I…”

“Esme…” His voice becomes more forceful. Demanding. “Why didn’t you stay?”

“Because I fucked up. Because I brought them to you. And I didn’t know what else to do. So I left. Because I didn’t know how to fix it.”

Silence descends on the room. An eerily still quiet that remains until she sniffles loudly; wiping at errant tears with the back of her hand.

“I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fucking fix it”

“Why do you think I left my boy?”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s not…”

“It is. It IS the same thing. We left for the same reasons. And what happened because of it? We took off. And we hurt the only person that ever really gave a fuck about us.”

“I didn’t know what else to do. I didn’t know how to get away from them. I didn’t want them coming back. Not when you were there. I didn’t want them hurting you. Or worse.”

“We would have had time. To get the fuck out of there. We could have found a place to hide out. We could have flown under the radar and let Nik and John and even Alcott deal with The High Table. You didn’t have to leave.”

“I didn’t think of that. I was scared. You were still healing from Dhaka. And even if you’d been a hundred percent, you’re not invincible. You wouldn’t have beaten them, Tyler. Not on your own. Not even with a small army. They would have found us. No matter where we were hiding.”

“Don’t underestimate Nik. She would have put us far underground. No one would have been able to track us.”

“I didn’t even consider it. It didn’t even cross my mind.”

“Like you said; you were scared and you were worried. Kinda hard to think right under those circumstances. But Nik? She has no excuse for not coming up with a solution like that.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. That I didn’t think of those. That I didn’t stay. I wanted to. I wanted to be with you. I never wanted to leave.”

Reaching out, calloused fingertips push strands of hair off her forehead and tuck others behind her ears. “I know you didn’t.”

“We both fucked up. In the past. Only my fuck up lasted five years. And I not only hurt you, but I hurt Millie, too.”

“You didn’t hurt her. Not in the slightest.”

“I kept her away from her dad. For selfish fucking reasons. All because I was worried about rejection. Because I was scared you’d turn me away. That you’d turn US away.”

“I wouldn’t have. I’ve spent the last five years wondering where you were. HOW you were. Wanting you.”

“I’m a horrible person.”

“No. You’re not. You’re a good person who made a bad decision.”

“I remember saying those exact words to you. In Dhaka.”

“And you didn’t hurt Millie. Look how amazing she is. She’s healthy and happy and she’s so fucking smart, Me. And she’s beautiful and she’s perfect and she’s everything that’s great inside both of us all into one. You didn’t hurt her. And you definitely didn’t fail her. You’ve done an awesome job with her. And I’m lucky. Of all the people that are the mother to my kid, it’s you. Because a lot of other women never would have gone through with having her.”

“There was no way I was giving her up. Not while I was pregnant and definitely not after. And I needed to hear that from you. That I haven’t fucked her up. That I’ve done good with her. And BY her.”

“You’ve done more than good, believe me.”

“I am so sorry. That I screwed up so badly. That I left instead of trying to fix things. I really did do it because I didn’t think I had another choice. Because I was scared and worried and wanted to keep you safe.”

“I can accept that. I HAVE accepted it. But when everything was gone and you still stayed away? That’s what I’m having a hard time with. That I just can’t get past. And I want to; get past it.”

“Tell me what I need to do. Tell me what I need to say. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything to make this better. To make it right.”

“There’s nothing you can say. Or do. You’ve already done it all. It’s just me. It’s me needing time to process and accept it and move on from it.”

“So what does that mean for us? You don’t want there to be an us? Until you’ve done all that?”

“That’s not what I’m saying. At all. Of course, I want there to be an us. Did you not ask me to marry you?”

“Not in so many words, but…”

“And did I not say okay?”

She nods.

“I want you. I want US. I want to raise our daughter together. I want to get married and have more kids. I mean, if that’s what you want. More.”

She manages a weak, shaly smile. “A couple more wouldn’t hurt.”

“I’m actually looking forward to; finding out we’re having another one and seeing you pregnant. That’s one of the things I AM pissed about; that I didn’t get to see you like that. All cute and round, and the baby…MY baby…just growing and thriving in there.”

“I carried HUGE with Milile. People were always asking if there was more than one because of just how huge I was. I told them, ‘This is what happens when you procreate with a giant.’”

“I hope you know I’m going to be one of those insanely protective dads-to-be.”

“More protective than you already are with me? Is that even possible?”

“Don’t challenge me, Esme. You’d be surprised how far I can go with it. And I’ll deal with my shit; all the issues I’ve got going on because of what happened. But I’ll do it WHILE we’re together. I’m not worried about that; it causing problems between us or with our family. I just thought you needed to know that I AM still struggling with all of this; you staying away and keeping Millie from me. And I don’t know how long I’ll actually fight with it, but I will get over it. Eventually.”

“And you’ll still love me? Even when things seem extra hard?”

“I love you no matter what. I never stopped. Not once in those five years. I’ve always loved you. I always will.”

As he leans in to peck his lips, her fingers aggressively push through his hair. A long, trembling sigh escaping her when the hand on the nape of her neck tightens its grip; holding her firmly against him as he prolongs and deepens the kiss. Long, sinuous movements of lips and tongue, accompanied by naked limbs that glide and rub against each other as they once more sprawl out across the bed. And when air becomes a necessity, he pulls away and braces himself on both arms above her; a smile curving her lips as she reaches up to trace the line of his jaw.

“Can I ask YOU something now?”

“As long it’s not about my ex-wife, what happened between you and me five years ago, or what’s going to happen in less thirty-six hours.”

“It’s not about any of those things.”

“What do you want to ask me?”

“Is it true? That Yaz has a hard-on for me?”

Chuckling, Tyler leans down and nips at the side of her neck. “You’re a brat.”

“Did he actually tell you that? That he’s packing a woody for me?”

“I can’t give away all his secrets. I’ve said enough.”

“Did you threaten to rip from limb to limb if he even tried anything?”

“No.” He presses a series of warm, soft kisses across her collarbone, his beard scraping the pale, delicate skin. “I told him YOU would.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fan fic #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction/John Wick cross over #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Rake Lives #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found-Chapter 19

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (OFC. But you do not have to read the others in the series to understand this fic.)

Warnings: some profanity.

*Includes Extraction 2 canon mentions

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @karimac @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @timbradfordsboot @asirensrage @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @ninjasawakenedmystar

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/126074509

My tag list is open! Please just let me know if you'd like to be added!

*****

He’s the last to arrive; met by Nik at the entrance to the conference room. And they exchange warm embraces and then indulge in non-work related chit-chat; a friendly conversation about his long and draining flight and the dreary, damp, fall weather that had greeted him when he touched down in New York City.

There’s something in the way he carries himself; an abundance of confidence that borders on cockiness and an energetic, almost cheeky bounce to his step. Tall and broad-shouldered and wide-chested, he possesses a charming and almost boyish smile; the perfect companion for the near mischievous glitter to his eyes. Clad in ‘casual business’; charcoal grey trousers, black trench coat, and cream-coloured cable knit sweater that provides a striking contrast against rich, dark skin. And he exchanges one-armed hugs and small talk with those he knows, handshakes and polite greetings with those he doesn’t. Then stands patiently a couple of feet away as Esme and Tyler finish their conversation, his hands stuffed in his pants pockets, as he slowly rocks back and forth on his heels.

Waiting until Tyler releases the diminutive woman from his embrace, he gives the younger mercenary a smile and a nod in greeting before stepping forward. Draping an arm across Esme’s collarbone and pulling her back against him; lips near her ear as he wags a disproving finger in Tyler’s direction.

“Now this one is nothing but trouble.” His English accent is thick; the tone of his voice rich and deep. And easily recognizable. “Didn’t your mother teach you to never speak to strange men?”

“If she had, you and I never would have met.”

“Exactly the answer I expected from you. You always have been too quick for your own good. And everyone else’s for that matter.” Giving her a tight, affectionate squeeze, he drops a kiss on the top of her head and then turns her around to face him; hands resting on her shoulders as he smiles down at her. “Did you miss me?”

“Like a migraine.”

“That’s not friends now, is it. Is that any way to treat your favourite fella?”

“I treat Tyler just fine. I don’t think he has any complaints.”

“You’re just an evil little human, you know that? Always have been. Straight to the core.”

“You seem to bring out the best in me.”

A pregnant pause. Then they both smile and chuckle and he pulls her into a hug; firmly rubbing a palm against the middle of her back before releasing her.

“Surprised?”

“I thought you were in Rome? Last time we talked, you were heading that way. They send you to kill the Pope? How’d that go? Cement your role as the leader of hell yet? Do churches burst into flames if you walk past them?”

“I cemented my place down below a long time ago. And I WAS there; tending to less corrupt and evil things than that old fuck. But a little birdie called me. Said I was needed elsewhere. So, here I am.”

“What are you even doing here? What…?”

“Nik asked me to lend a hand. Help you out of your mess. Heard you got tangled up in some nasty business. With some big-time players. Organized crime, if I do recall correctly.”

“The DiTomasso's. This generation's version of Capone. Probably even worse.”

Releasing a long, low whistle, Alcott gives a slow shake of his head. “Boy, when you step in it, you REALLY step in it, don’t ya,”

“You know them?”

“I know OF them. Haven’t had any first-hand experience myself, but I know people who have. And they all say the same thing; that family is as corrupt and as evil as they come. They’ve got a lot of people lining their pockets; everyone from sanitation workers to coppers, to hospital CEOs and top-notch lawyers and even politicians. And we’re not talking the bottom of the barrel either; we’re talking the district attorney and councilmen and even the damn mayor himself. Not to mention they’re very tight with the High Table. They may as well be running this city. Hell, they may as well be running the entire STATE.”

“Sounds like this place’s version of the Radiani boys,” Tyler observes.

“If you thought they were bad…which they WERE, don’t get me wrong… you’re definitely not going to enjoy these fellas. They’re twice as twisted and dirty. If not MORE than that. Their bloodlines are long and run extremely deep and they’re extremely loyal to one another. They will stop at nothing to defend and avenge the family name. Which, from what I heard, you found out firsthand today, yeah? A little incident. Involving a sniper?”

Noticing the way Esme tenses, Tyler lays a comforting hand on the nape of her neck; fingers pressing and digging into the tight muscle. “It was way too close to home. Millie was right there. They didn’t even give a shit. They opened fire anyway.”

“They don’t give a fuck WHO is the room, mate. Your kid, your mother, your grandmother. They’re taking the shot regardless of who is there to see it or who might be standing in the way. Believe me, there’s word out on the street. And a healthy reward. For whoever pulled that trigger. Some of us do have some standards. Some morals left. And when it comes to kids…”

“And Winston didn’t even give a shit,” Esme laments. “He’s the reason we had to pull all of this together so quickly. Because he wants us out. ASAP. He was more worried about the attention we brought to The Continental. And the mess WE made. He didn’t care that Millie could have died.”

Tyler smirks. “He was more disappointed I didn’t.”

“You’re on his shit list too, are ya?” Alcott laughs. You’re in good company. He’s tried to intimidate me many times. He’s even tried to kill me. Off the books. Yet here I am. Still around to burn his ass. I can only imagine what his reaction is going to be when he finds out I’ve checked in. Should be interesting, to say the least.”

“Tyler thinks he might be connected to it,” Esme says. “ The sniper.”

“He threatened me. Hallow shit, mostly. Offered me money to get the job done and then bring Esme and Millie back here. And walk away from them. For good.”

“How much money?” Alcott inquires.

Esme scowls.

“I need the whole picture. Details. They’re important. Even I wouldn’t hand you over for all the money in that man’s vault downstairs. And that’s saying something.” Winking, he reaches out and affectionately ruffles her hair. “Considering I merely tolerate you most days.”

“I told him to fuck the money,” Tyler replies. “Said I wasn’t walking away. I was in their life now and I was staying in it. Didn’t matter what he offered. Or how much.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re one of the few in this game that still has some principles I tell you what though, I lost mine a long time ago. If I come face to face with that old fuck, I’m liable to rip his head off and shove it up his ass. And that won’t end well for me. You can’t even scratch your balls or pick your underwear out of your ass around here without The High Table having some rule against it.”

Esme grins. “Maybe you need a chaperone while you’re here. Someone to keep you out of trouble.”

“Oh, that’s mighty rich coming from the likes of you. Considering how fast trouble manages to find you. Which is how you ended up with this muppet…” Alcott jerks his head in Tyler’s direction. “...in the first place.”

Tyler smirks. “I thought we were friends.”

“You shot a coffee mug clear out of my hand, mate.”

“That was before I got to know you. Once that happened, I figured you were alright.”

Taking Esme by the shoulders, Alcott turns her to face Tyler; a forearm once more draped across her collarbone.. “Now you listen to me and listen to me good. That man? Nothing but a nuisance. A troublemaker. I can maybe see falling for his bullshit one time, but TWO? What’s that saying? Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice…”

“I’ll have you know that he’s a perfect gentleman.”

“Yeah, I bet he is. I bet you wear the pants in the relationship, yeah? Got him on the straight and narrow? Someone has to keep the likes of him in line, am I right? And it’s always the tiniest ones that crack the mightiest whips.” Chuckling, Alcott steps around Esme; clapping Tyler on the shoulder before pulling him into a tight, brief hug. “I’m just fucking with ya. It’s always good to see you. Especially out of prison orange.”

“Feels like a lifetime ago. How you been holding up?”

“Well, my knees crack when I walk, my lower back constantly hurts, and I need glasses to read and drive…”

“Just say it,” Esme teasingly encourages. “Old. You’re getting old.”

“Not to mention I have to get up three times a night to take a piss. Other than that, I’m doing just fine, mate. Still kicking ass and taking names. And most importantly, still on this side of the ground. Much to a lot of people’s dismay, I’m sure.”

“You just make friends wherever you go, don’t ya.”

“What can I say? It’s my devastatingly good looks and my boyish charm. You fell off the radar there for a bit, mate. After that last job for me. Heard something about you trying your hand at a normal life? Became a firefighter, started your own business. I’d ask how that all worked out for you, but you wouldn’t be standing here right now if it’d panned out.”

“I still do those things. And I’m going to go back to them; once this is all over.”

Esme frowns as her cell phone vibrates within the back pocket of her jeans, and quickly checks the message. “Millie forgot her backpack,” she informs the two men. “She’s the one who packed and put it somewhere she said she’d see and not leave it behind. I swear that girl would forget her head if it wasn’t attached.”

“Gets more and more like her mother every day,” Alcott chides.

“It’s all her ‘essentials’. Headphones, all her colouring and drawing stuff, her tablet. I’m just going to run it down to her.”

“You want me to come with you?” Tyler offers. “You shouldn’t be going anywhere alone. You…”

“I’ll be alright,” she assures him. “There’s armed guards everywhere. I’m sure one will tag along. Besides, it’s just at the end of the hall.”

“I come bearing gifts,” Alcott offers a bag he’d carried into the room with him; bubble gum pink with white and purple tissues paper. “For the little one. Wine gums. Right from over the pond.”

“She’ll be ecstatic to find out you’re even here. You guys behave, alright? I know how easily trouble finds BOTH of you. Tyler…” Standing on her tiptoes, she presses a kiss to the underside of his chin, then turns to Alcott and pecks his cheek. “...Russell.”

******

The men stand in silence as they watch her go. And the moment she slips from the room, a grinning Tyler turns to his old friend. “Russell?”

“You didn’t hear her say that.”

“Can I call you Russ?”

“Not unless you want me to rearrange that pretty little face of yours. That is need to-know information. And honestly, you don’t need to know it.”

“Why so secretive? It’s just a first name. There some reason to hide it?”

‘I’m not trying to be secretive or hide anything. I just hate the fucking name. Russell. Who does that to their kid? It’s pure shit. Makes me sound like I should be out there wrestling sharks or fist-fighting kangaroos. And I don’t do either, so…”

“And Esme knows your first name because…”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist now. It’s not what you think. It’s NEVER been what’s going through your head right now. We’ve known each other long before you ever came into the picture. And I was in it when you weren’t around. When she needed someone to be there for her.”

“I would have been had I been given the chance.” The anger returns. The bitterness. And he hates himself for feeling those things. Especially towards her. It’s difficult to accept; the fact it will likely be a long and drawn-out process. A bumpy road on the way to full acceptance and full forgiveness.

“That’s not my business. What went down between the two of you. But for what it’s worth, none of it was your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. It wasn’t personal; why she took off. She didn’t do it because she didn’t want to be with you. Or because she didn’t love you. She left because she did.”

“Why didn’t you get a hold of me? Let me know she was okay? Let me know about Millie? Why…?”

“With all due respect, mate, my ties to her? My loyalty? They’re a lot stronger and deeper than the ones I have with you. It wasn’t my secret to tell. I was there for her. As a friend. A confidant. And It wasn’t up to me to play peacemaker. It wasn’t my job to bring the two of you back together. That was all on her. She needed to be ready to do it HERSELF.”

“And nothing ever happened? Between the two of you? Nothing…?”

“You’re really not going down this road, are ya? You really don’t think that…”

“I don’t know what to think. This is all new to me. The two of you even knowing each other, let alone being friends. And when I think about your visiting her and being around my kid and…”

“Nothing EVER happened. Not even close. Not once did either of us ever start down that road. And I can’t speak for her, but I never thought about going down it. We’ve known each other a long time. We’re colleagues. Good friends. And that’s it. That’s all it ever was. And it’s all it ever will be. Do I care about her? Do I love her? I do. But not in the way you do. Am I making sense?”

“You’d tell me. If anything ever…”

“I have no reason to lie to you, Rake. And you should be now: I don’t play games. Do you know how many times she’s talked about you? Cried about you? It’s a hell of a lot. There was never going to be anyone else. No matter how hard they tried. You’ve got nothing to worry about, mate. She loves you. Always has. Always will. You and ONLY you.”

“She talked about me? To you?”

“A girl has to open up to someone, yeah? I was that someone. From time to time. So don’t go there in your head. Nothing good will come of it. She’s back in your life. And she’s brought you a hell of a gift. That little girl is something else, isn’t she? Concentrate on THAT. That little girl and her mother. Nothing else matters.”

“You told her. About Georgia. About Mia and her sister and I…”

“She’d caught wind of it. Through Nik. I just filled in the blanks.”

“You were spying on me. Even after that. I know you’ve been filling her in. On what I’ve been up to.”

“She was worried. About how you were doing. So I checked on you from time to time. Put her fears at ease. It was all out of concern. On her part. She needed to know you were okay.”

“I wasn’t okay though. I was FAR from okay.”

“She didn’t need to know THOSE things. Listen, mate. I like you. A lot. You’re damn good at what you do. You’ve been a hell of an asset to me, that’s for sure. And we ARE friends. But let’s make one thing clear. If I had to choose between you and her? It would be her. No questions asked. Now are you going to drop this shit or..?”

“I just want to know if…”

“And I told you everything there is to know. I do have a word of warning, though. She’s special. She’s a rare breed. Especially in this line of work. So if you’re only inserting yourself back in her life and making promises and declarations of love and always and forever just so you can hurt in the end? Out of some need for revenge?If that comes about…”

“I would NEVER do that.”

“IF that comes about, I will come for you. And I will make things very…uncomfortable…for you. Painful, even. So if screwing her around has even crossed your mind, maybe you SHOULD consider taking that money and fucking off. Because you don’t want to piss me off. You hurt her or that little girl…”

“I already said…”

“...I will be your worst nightmare. And you don’t want that, do you. Now…” Clearing his throat, Alcott plasters on a smile and claps Tyler on the shoulder). “...back to being mates, yeah? I will fill you in on some gossip though. When it comes to your girl, though. Remember how I complained about how the tea was at your place?”

“Vaguely. I do remember you drinking all my milk.”

“Well, I learned right quick that the tea at your place may as well have been liquid gold. Because your lady love? She can’t make a decent cuppa to save her life.”

A smirk plays on Tyler’s lips.

“She claims to be a tea lover. A right tea granny, even. But all this time she’s been making herself -and unsuspecting others- utter shit. Complete pig piss, in my opinion. And you think she’d learn; being such close friends with a Brit. But she never does. It never gets any better.”

“I bet you drink it though.”

“I pretend it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted. Every time. It’s the little things. That makes them happy. And it also spares my balls. I quite like them attached to my body.”

“It’s why I lie about how good the coffee is every time she makes it. And why I spent a year eating food that wasn’t fit for human consumption.”

“Give it at least one more before you drop the truth on her, yeah? Unless you fancy being castrated. Twelve months of getting on her good side should do it. And are you really serious? That this is your last job?”

Tyler nods.

“You know you’ve said that before. A few times. Just since I’ve known you.”

“Maybe if you stopped calling me with offers I can’t resist…”

“Just say no, mate. What do you think will happen if you do? I won’t hold it against you. You owe me nothing. We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Sometimes it’s hard. To say no. To completely walk away.”

“And you’re certain you can do it this time? Walk away and stay away?”

“Now I have a reason to. I have Esme. And Millie. I’ve got a family now. I may not owe you anything, but I owe them a hell of a lot.”

“She deserves a normal life. A partner. A father to her little girl. A husband, even. And if you think you can give her those things…”

“I KNOW I can.”

“She’s got a lot of faith in you. So do I, for that matter. I see the way you look at her. Your whole face just lights right up; whenever she’s even within five feet of you. You’re a different man. If I see it, you know she does too.”

“I hope she does. All I’ve ever wanted was to be with her. Have a life with her. Make her happy. Be the man she wants and needs. Deserves.”

“It won't be easy. It never is for guys like us. Trying to give up this life for a different one.”

“You speaking from experience?”

“Sadly, yeah. I’ve tried. Many times over the last couple of years. Can’t seem to do it. Pull the trigger. Totally commit.”

“So you and you and Mia aren’t…”

“We are. Off and on. Every so often I make promises I never seem to keep and she takes me at my word. It’s a vicious circle. One I can’t seem to break. Not for lack of trying. Mind you. She deserves better than that; someone who just can’t seem to put her first. And I want to. Believe me, I want to.”

“Seems to be her type. Men that can’t give her their all.”

“She never speaks ill of you, for what it’s worth. I know there’s a lot of hurt still there. But I think that’s more to do with losing her only child than it is what you did leading up to it. You gave her closure on that front. And I appreciate that by the way.”

“It’s the least I could do. After all the hurt I caused. And she gave me that, too. Closure. Not that I really deserved it.”

“Did you love her?”

“I did. In a way that was directed solely to her. She was my wife. The mother of my son. And things weren’t always great between us and we both take responsibility for that. It wasn’t just my boy getting sick. Things were rough before that ever happened. We thought we could get through them but…”

“But you did. Love her.”

“It’s what I thought love was, anyway. I was certain she was my one and only. The person I’d spend the rest of my life with. At the time we called it quits for good, I didn’t think I’d ever get over her.”

“But…”

“But then I met Esme. And everything changed. I changed. The way I felt about her…FEEL about her…nothing can even come close to touching it. It took me until I was thirty-five; to find the love of my life. And losing her broke me in ways I never thought possible. I didn’t think I had anything left TO break.”

Alcott nods in understanding.

“She’s everything. My entire world. Even when she was gone, it all revolved around her. I spent every second of every day wanting her back. Trying to find a way to make that happen. I never moved on. Not really. I probably never would have.”

“Like I said, she’s a special sort. A breed all her own.”

“I can’t fuck it up. Now that I have her back. Now that I have a daughter. I can’t lose my family. I’d never survive that. If something happened to Esme…”

“Nothing will. That’s why we’re all here. To make sure nothing DOES happen.”

“And none of this is a slight on Mia. In any way. She’s a good woman in her own right. She deserved a lot better than what I gave her. And I’ll regret it for the rest of my life; leaving her when she needed the most. But I don’t regret that things fell apart. Because if they didn’t, I never would have met Esme. And a life without her is not one I like to think about. Five years? That was long enough.”

“If you fuck this up…”

“I won’t. I won’t make the same mistakes twice. You know, maybe I should be making some threats of my own. When it comes to Mia. She deserves a good man. Someone who loves her and ONLY her. That can put her above their work. And if you can’t do that and YOU hurt HER…”

Alcott chuckles. “You’re the last one that should be threatening me when it comes to Mia. Considering…”

They find themselves interrupted by Esme’s return; bashful and apologetic as Millie rushes into the room ahead of her. Her pigtails swinging from side to side and her brilliant blue eyes sparkling; her giggles and squeals filling the room.

******

“Uncle Duey!”

Alcott catches her the moment she leaps off the ground, giving that rich, deep chuckle as he throws her high over his head. Once…twice…three times, before expertly catching her and showering her face with kisses; eyes briefly closing as he gathers her close to his chest and squeezes as tight as her tiny body will allow.

Tyler notices the remarkable change in the man. The softness to his face, the glitter in his eyes, and the gentleness to his smile; one of his large, scarred hands cradling the back of Millie’s head as he presses his lips to her temple. And it’s bittersweet; the knowledge that so many people got the chance to meet and love on his daughter before he did.

“I missed you!” Millie presses a noisy kiss to Alcott’s lips, then pulls back to look at him; pouting as she holds his face in her tiny hands. “It’s been forever Since I last saw you!”

“It’s only been two months.”

“Two months is wayyy too long! It felt like two forevers! Where have you been?!”

“Working. In different countries. I couldn’t come see you and mum until I was finished. Some bad guys needed taken care of.”

“And did you? Take care of them?”

“Of course.”

“You killed ‘em, didn’t you.”

“Amelia!” Esme scolds. “What in the…?”

“Uncle Duey kills bad guys just like Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz do. And just like Tyler does. It’s not exactly a secret, mom.”

Grinning, Tyler nudges Alcott with his elbow. “Uncle Duey?”

“Tyler?”

“We can talk about THAT later.”

“He’s Uncle Duey ‘cause when he visits, there’s THREE of us,” Millie explains, holding up the exact number of fingers. “There’s him, momma, and me. Like in the cartoon. Huey. Duey, and Louie. I came up with it! All my myself!”

“That’s because you are very smart,” Alcott praises. “Like your mum. And you also let me pick which I wanted, didn’t ya. And do you remember why I chose what I did? Why I picked Duey?”

Millie let’s loose a near-perfect English accent. “‘Cause the other two sounded like right wankers.”

Laughing, her ‘uncle’ presses a kiss to her forehead. “That’s exactly right. Did you like your surprise?”

Millie nods enthusiastically. “I love wine gums! They’re my favourite! Especially the ones you bring!”

“That’s ‘cause those are the real deal. Straight from over the pond. Right from England. You know how hard those were to actually get here? The issues I had getting them through customs? Short of having to smuggle them up my a…”

“Uncle Duey needs to learn to watch what he says around little ears,” Esme gently scolds.

“Mom, he was only going to ‘ass’. You say ‘fuck’ around me all the time.”

“She’s a chip off the old block, I see. The apple truly doesn’t fall far from the tree. So what’s this I hear? About this Tyler bloke being your mum’s new boyfriend? What do you think of him? You like him?”

“I love him! He’s nice to momma. And to be. We have lots of fun together. He takes me swimming and lets me watch Coco Melon and Bluey on his phone and he put games on there for me. And he takes me for pancakes!”

“That’s quite the five-star review.”

“And he protected me from the bad guys. When they tried to get to us today. He made sure that I was safe and sound and I didn’t end up getting hurt AT ALL. He did though; ‘cause he lied on top of me and kept me under him so nothing could get me.”

“Just a few cuts,” Tyler assures her. “Nothing serious.”

“And I was really scared and he calmed me down. He didn’t leave me alone to go after the bad guys. He just sat there with me and hugged me and rubbed my back and played with my hair and made me feel better. And he didn’t even get mad. When I peed my pants. I didn’t mean to, but…”

“That happens when we’re scared,” her uncle sympathizes. “I used to do it as a wee lad. All the time. Nothing for you to be sorry for or for anyone to get mad about. So you like this guy? He’s good to you? And your mum?”

“Like I said, I love him.”

“There’s nothing else I need to know then. Now, you need to go and get what you need and then go with Abeula,” he nods in the woman’s direction as she lingers nearby. “‘Cause the adults really need to talk. It’s time to figure some stuff out. When it comes to bad guys.”

“That’s why you’re here? The bad guys? You’re gonna help?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“The bad guys REALLY don’t stand a chance now. We got you and Tyler and Uncle John and Auntie Nik and Uncle Yaz…”

“The best of the best. Now come on.” He pecks each of her cheeks as her ‘nanny’ steps forward to collect her). “I’ll see you in a little while, ya?”

“Maybe we can get ice cream?”

“I’m sure I could manage to steal you away for a bit. You be good, ya? I don’t want to hear any different.”

“I’m always good!” Millie declares, and shrugs into the backpack that Abuella over her; rushing through the room and over to the armed guard that stands by the door. “Frank! You wanna play ‘Go Fish’? When we get back to the room? I brought my cards!”

“She’s going to hustle him. Gonna take him for a few large for sure. Last time we played, she cheated the entire time and took me for every jelly bean I had to my name. Then had to bloody nerve to say ‘don’t hate the player, hate the game’.” Laughing, he turns to Tyler and claps a hand down onto the back of his neck. “You better buckle up, mate. ‘Cause you’re in for a treat with that one.”

******

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Nik addresses the group gathered around in the conference room. “We’ve been given less than thirty-six hours to be checked out of here. And we have to do it peacefully or quietly or…and this is a direct quote…’we will be subjected to the full weight and wrath of The High Table.”

Alcott gives a derisive snort. “The old fuck making his usual threats. I’d like to see him try. I won’t think twice about putting him in the ground.”

Wick sighs from across the table; his scarred hands raking through his hair and down his weary, unshaven face. “I just want to go on record and say that while Winston and I are…WERE…friends, I don’t support ANY of this. The things he’s doing, the things he’s saying. I’m just as disappointed and pissed as everyone else. Believe me.”

“We do,” Nik assures him. “We ALL do. And eventually, when this is all handled and things calm down, Winston WILL pay the price. I can promise you that.”

Alcott cheekily raises his hand. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to be there when it happens. AND take part.”

Nik tries to suppress a grin. “I will be sure to include you. Now before we get down to business, I want to assure everyone that this is a secure room. Yaz did a complete security sweep; both manually and electronically. While he didn’t find anything, he’s put measures in place to block any of kind of ‘spyware’ from listening in and recording. We’re trying to keep Winston in the dark. And I’d appreciate if nothing to do with this mission is talked about outside of this room. Because if he catches wind, he WILL try and stop us and he will try and stop us and will do whatever it takes to prevent Tyler from removing Esme and Millie from the building. Is everyone on board?”

A collection of nods spreads from one end of the table to the other.

“Everything goes down at one am, Thursday morning,” Nik launches into her ‘sell’. “John Wick will create a distraction by throwing lit matches down the ninth-floor garbage chute; waiting precisely two minutes before proceeding to pull the alarm and call the fire department. From a Continental extension. The call however will be diverted to our tech people; acting as nine-one-one operators who will respond by sending out two units. John, if you want to explain further…”

“Pretending to the first on the scene will be a friend of mine. Aureilo. He owns a mechanic place in town and has always been on our side. He’s helped me more times than I can count. And I know Nik you’ve had contact with him in the past and have had no complaints with his work.”

She nods in agreement.

“With him will be three of his men from his shop; two of them have firefighter experience. They will come into The Continental and ‘asses’ the situation. They’ll make themselves look legit, then call the actual nine-one-one from their cell phones and report what’s happening.”

“It enables us to clear the building,” Nik adds. “It creates a big enough distraction, but one that’s completely plausible. There’s nothing suspicious about it. It won’t raise eyebrows.”

“I have a question,” Alcott speaks up, then turns to Wick. “Where are these guys getting a fire truck?”

A grin tugs at the Wick’s mouth. “That’s ‘need to know’ information. And no one really needs to know that.”

“While guests are leaving the building as per the instructions of the first responding unit, Tyler will start the extraction, Using a key to the service elevator that Charon has given us…”

Esme arches a brow. “Charon’s in on this too?”

“He’s just as pissed as we are,” Wick explains. “He offered his assistance. In any way. So far, we’ve just taken him up on this small thing.”

“Tyler will use the service elevator to take Esme and Millie to the loading dock. Yaz has arranged for three armoured SUVs to be waiting. Tyler, Esme, and Millie will be on one, Yaz and I will use the other to serve as a decoy, and the final one will be driven by Alcott who will follow Tyler at a safe and unnoticeable distance.”

“Once they’re in the service elevator, I’ll head across the street and take up a sniper position on the roof,” Wick chimes in. “Nik has small teams of her own men on roofs of adjacent buildings.”

“Better to be safe than sorry,” she explains.

“You’re going to extract both together?” Alcott sounds wary. “Mother and child at the same time?”

“It makes the most sense. It…”

“It makes the least sense,” he interrupts. “For what I think are very obvious reasons.”

Nik sighs. “You don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“To be quite honest…and with all due respect…I think it’s a shit idea. And I’m actually appalled you couldn’t do better.”

Sighing, Nik leans back in her chair; chewing on the inside of her cheek as she struggles to maintain her patience. She’s been on edge since the incident that morning; unnerved by the extremely close call, Winston’s possible involvement, and his heartless response to the fact that two lives had been threatened. Especially that of a child he supposedly loved as if they shared the same blood. “I’m interested in hearing why you think that.”

“The little one isn’t the main target. It’s not her they want.” He holds up his hand in a plea for silence when Nik opens her mouth to object. “I think most of us…IF not ALL of us…realize that what happened this morning? It’s not connected to any of this. It has nothing to do with the DiTomasso’s. That wasn’t their doing. That isn’t how they operate.”

“You can’t be sure of that. You have no experience with them. You…”

“But I know people who do. Who’ve gone face to face with them and lived to tell about it. Minus a couple of somewhat non-essential body parts, mind you.”

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Esme reaches for her glass of ice water and takes a sip.

Tyler frowns; noticing the distinct tremble to her hand. And he reaches out and lays one of his hands on the nape of her neck; fingers softly and comfortingly massaging at the tense muscles.

“ They’re up close and personal,” Alcott continues. “They showed that the other night, yeah? At the house?”

“They weren’t afraid to make some noise,” Wick informs the group. “I’ve seen police SWAT teams with less bodies and firepower.”

“They’re not cowards,” Alcott adds. “They don’t attack from far away. Not their style. They like to get blood on their hands, and I mean that quite literally. What happened this morning is NOT related to that family. I am one hundred percent sure of that.”

Nik reaches for her mug of coffee. “So now we have two things to worry about.”

“No need to worry about the shooting. I’ve got people out there. On the ground. They’ll find out who it was and they’ll take care of it. It’s none of your concern now. It’s out of your hands. My boys will fish ‘em out and take ‘em out.”

“And I’m just supposed to take your word for that?”

“When have I not been good on my word?”

She relents; briefly blowing on the steaming, black brew before taking a sip.

“Our main concern right now is this plan of yours,” Alcott says. “Now for the most part, it’s solid. It’s workable. It’s all clean, fairly easy. Until the actual extraction. Then it all goes to shit. It’s a mess. And it’s just begging for trouble.”

“Because…”

“You’re out of your bloody mind if you honestly think extracting and transporting both…together… is a good idea. You’re putting the child in harm’s way if you do that. These people want Esme. And they won’t care who's with her when they go after her. Extra bodies are nothing but collateral damage. Regardless of age. Do you really want to risk that? Them getting ugly and trying something and the little one paying the price?”

“Extracting both at the same time saves manpower. It…”

“To hell with the manpower. Look at all the people here! At your disposal. Instead of wasting what we bring to the table by just having us ‘keep an eye out’, use us to your advantage. Two extraction teams. One for Esme, one for the child. This isn’t rocket science.”

“Tyler…” Nik observes him from across the table, making note of the furrowed brow, tight jaw, and lips set in a thin, firm line. And while one hand continues to lightly and lovingly rub at the back of Esme’s neck, the other repeatedly taps a pen against a pad paper that sits in front of him “...you’re the lead operative on this. It really comes down to what YOU feel comfortable with.”

“As a whole, I’m fine with the way things are.”

“But…”

“Alcott’s right. It IS a bad idea; to transport them at the same time. It’s not…”

The man in question grins. “Did it hurt to admit that? That I’m right? Was it physically painful? The worst agony you’ve ever known?”

“... getting out of the building I’m worried about; I’ve got lots of help close by if I need it. Not to mention Esme isn’t a rookie. She isn’t a normal client; she knows how quickly things can go bad. She knows what to expect.”

“Again, I ask. But?”

“Even she has her limitations. And I’m sure she’s the first one to admit that.”

Beside him, a silent Esme nods in agreement.

“Two teams makes the most sense,” Tyler continues. “If we want to get them out of here quietly, quickly, AND safely, doing it separately is the most logical thing. If things go wrong, I can’t be taking care of that and worrying about Esme getting hurt and someone grabbing Millie or her taking off because she’s scared. Had she been a bit older…”

“It’s very personal,” Alcott adds. “For all of us. Everyone’s emotions are running high. But Tyler has the most to lose. If things go wrong…and I mean horribly wrong…he’s the one that ends up suffering long term for it. I’m thinking of EVERYONE here. I want what’s safest and easiest for all of us. But especially for him and his family.”

“And you feel that two separate teams…”

“I have a lot of experience. When it comes to the job. More than you and your brother and Tyler put together. I’ve been at it a hell of a lot longer. And I’ve known some damn good mercenaries. Guys that could handle their shit. And this man…” He wags a finger in Tyler's direction. “...is one of the best. If not THE best. But not even the best can do it all on their own. They need backup. And with all these extra bodies you’ve got at the ready…”

“I think there’s a few things we can all agree on,” Wick speaks up. “The first is that we didn’t come here to just sit around. To just ‘watch and wait’. We came here to be useful. To get our hands dirty.”

Alcott nods in agreement.

“We’re all here because this IS personal,” he continues. “Because this time it’s our friends that need help. Our family. It’s why we agreed to all this. Why we’re sticking around. This isn’t a normal job. It’s about as far from it as you can get. And if we can shed all the blood, sweat, and tears for people we don’t know? Then we’re prepared to shed twice as much for people we do. Alcott’s right; this is the last job where we should be thinking about sparing manpower.”

“Now THIS man,” Alcott nods in Wick’s direction. “Is MY kind of people.”

“Having Esme and Millie together IS foolish,” Wick continues. “It’s putting Millie even more at risk than she already is. And I think that’s the last thing her mother….or her father…want.”

“I don’t feel comfortable taking them together,” Tyler admits. “IF it was a normal job and people I didn’t know? I wouldn’t hesitate. But I have way too much to lose, Nik. These people are going to come for Esme; they won’t give a shit who is with her. And that’s why I’d rather it just be me. Because at least I can fight back. Millie is the most innocent in all of this. Maybe the ONLY innocent one. I don’t want her in the line of fire.”

Nik nods slowly as she considers everyone’s thoughts and opinions. “Sounds like the main players are all on the same page. Does everyone else agree? That we should change things up?”

“Just the extraction part,” Alcott stresses. “Everything else can stay the same. Just need an extra team. To get Millie out. I’m more than willing. She’s known me for a long time. Considers me her uncle. I used to feed her and change her dirty nappies. Take naps with her on the couch. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her. And that includes making sure nothing happens to her.”

“Other than Nik or Yaz, You’re probably the only person she WILL go with,” Esme says. “At least peacefully. It’s still going to be hard; convincing her to leave me behind. We’ve never really been separated. And we’ve definitely never gone through anything like this together. But, I can’t make that decision alone. When it comes to just handing her over to you.” Laying a hand on Tyler’s knee, she tightly squeezes. “WE need to decide that. Together. Her mom and dad.”

A smile tugs at the corner of Tyler’s mouth and he leans sideways in his chair; pressing a brief kiss to her temple before pushing his fingers through hers and placing their joined hands on his thigh. “If you think it’s or the best…”

“I trust him, Tyler. I’m not one to just hand Millie over. And I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t certain that he could take care of her. He really WOULD do anything to keep her safe. I don’t question that at all.”

“And you know she’d be okay with it?”

“It’s going to take some convincing regardless of who I choose. But he’s been there since she was just a tiny baby. She’s known him all her life. And I know she loves him and trusts him.”

“I just want what’s best for her. WHO is best for her.”

“I wouldn’t try to sell Alcott to you if I didn’t trust him. Completely.”

Sighing, he briefly chews on his bottom lip; thumb continuously brushing against the top of her hand. “I trust Esme more than I trust anyone. And if she thinks you’re the right guy for the job, I have no reason to doubt it. I’m good with it. If you’re willing to take her on…”

“More than willing.”

“But I warn you, mate. If anyone gets a hold of her and hurts her…”

“You don’t have to finish that threat. If that happened, I’d off myself before you had the chance to get to me.”

“Then that’s what we’ll go with,” Nik says. “Alcott will be in charge of extracting Millie and Abeula and getting them to the airport. Once you’ve successfully gotten her out of The Continental, you’ll call Wick on his secure phone; he’ll abandon his post on the roof of the building across the street and meet up with you. It’s up to the both of you to come up with a preferred pick-up spot outside of the hot zone.”

“We’re gonna have to grab a drink later,” Alcott addresses Wick. “And make sure to bring a big map. ‘Cause I don’t know fuck all where anything is in this city.”

“It’s up to the two of you to sort that out and make a firm plan,” Nik informs him. “For now, we call it a night. We all sleep on the game plan. We meet again…same place…at noon tomorrow. To see if there’s any other concerns or if we’re all comfortable and on board with things. If we are, we run through everything. This is as personal as it gets. We can’t have any issues. We can’t have things go wrong. We can’t have any fuck ups.”

“What about Winston?” Esme inquires. “I’m usually not one that’s hell-bent on revenge, but when he didn’t show any concern for what happened to Millie and I can’t let that lie. I can’t…”

Nik smirks, then aggressively snaps the lid of her laptop closed. “Don’t you worry about that. He’ll get what’s coming to him.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Esme Drummond #Esme Drummond-Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat- Chapter 6

Fandom: Extraction

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Warnings: mentions of childhood cancer and death (canon), spousal abuse, miscarriage

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @munstysmind @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @karimac @theesirenteller @kmc1989 @alisbackalleybbq @asirensrage @ninjasawakenedmystar @residentdormouse @themaradwrites @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciation @occommunity

Link to AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/129945505

My tag list is OPEN. Please just let me know if you want to be added :)

****

He wakes at two a.m.; confused and disoriented. After three-quarters of a year, he’s no longer engulfed by the sights and sounds within his hospital room. While stark white walls have transformed into dark wood panelling, the overwhelming and nauseating combined stenches of antiseptic, sickness and death have been replaced by the fire that keeps their little home warm. Gone is the cramped, single bed with its metal safety bars and pristine, uncomfortably stiff sheets; he’s graduated to a double king covered in layers of colourful quilts and blankets. At last able to share a bed with the woman he loves; finding himself caught up in her familiar smell, the brush of her body against his, and the sighs, murmurs and giggles that she emits in the midst of the deepest of sleeps.

It was during the first hours in Dhaka that he’d discovered an ease and comfort with her that he’d never experienced before. He had smiled and laughed for the first time in what felt like forever; a pure and genuine contentment that he hadn’t experienced since childhood. When his father was away on one of his infamous week-long benders and his mother ‘ruled the roost’. For seven days, there’d been no fear lingering under that roof; he felt safe and secure, and he was able to enjoy the company of his mother without having to worry about his old man ruining every single moment. Forever wanting him to ‘harden up; degrading his only child for showing emotion and both accepting and handing out affection.

With Esme, he’d felt very much like that little boy again. Realizing through every kiss and every brush of her hand and the press of her body against his that he’d been living for years…decades…completely and utterly touched starved. Even with Mia, his wants and needs were kept frustratingly out of reach. Outside of sex, she had zero interest in physical intimacy; she preferred he didn’t enter her ‘personal space’ and let him know from very early on that she disliked even being embraced. Esme however, simply couldn’t get enough of it; she loved everything from the simplest, most innocent of touches to the most invasive and raunchy of sexual encounters. In turn, he had thrived alongside her; enjoying the fact that she needed and wanted him and wasn’t afraid to show it.

In turn, she’d made him realize that he was still very much alive; he could still FEEL. Not just intense desire and animalistic lust, but complete and utter devotion; quickly smitten by her bubbly personality and these enormous dark eyes, the way she chewed on her bottom lip while immersed in deep thought, and how she would give a tiny squeal and a bounce of her heels whenever they received good news or something appealing caught her eye. She was strong in ways that were solely her own; not business savvy or a physical powerhouse like Nic, nor cold and calculated like Mia; years spent working in the law field had made her incredibly jaded and cynical. But a strength that seemed to come straight from her soul; seeing the beauty in the world despite years of torment and punishment that had been dumped in her lap. Everything that had been down to her at the hands of her ex, and she still saw the good in everyone; perhaps naive and childish at times, but both utterly appealing and highly addictive.

She was the first person since his mother that he’d allowed himself to be completely vulnerable with; permitting her past the walls he’d long ago built up to contain the immense heartache, guilt, and regret that he’d burdened himself with. And she hadn’t looked at him like a monster when he told her about his biggest mistake; fleeing when his son was at the tail end of his courageous -and extremely painful- battle with cancer. Admitting that he’d gone to the hospital just hours before being shipped off on his third tour of Afghanistan; brave enough to put his own life on the line but too weak to stay behind and hold his son’s hand until the bitter end. And speaking the truth had been both incredibly painful and cathartic. Revealing that he’d simply stood at the window of his son’s room and watched the six-year-old colour; not having the courage to step through the door and give a ‘face to face’ goodbye and instead simply turning and walking away.

His little boy watching the entire time.

Esme is the only living soul who knows THAT part. He’d never been brave enough to say it out loud; the heights and the depths of his brand of cowardice. While she immediately held him accountable and agreed that, yes, it was a horrible mistake, she also sympathized with him; the loss of a child was extremely difficult and nearly impossible to bear for even the strongest of souls.

And she’d cried along with him; feeling his grief and his sorrow so profoundly. “I’m sorry, Tyler,” she had managed through a flood of tears and sobs that wracked her entire body. “I am so sorry you lost your little boy.”

It would be the first time, and the last, that they’d speak of Austin. She refused to press him for any more information and strayed away from asking anything about his former life. Instead, giving him the space and respect he needed on his journey; acknowledging his boundaries and refusing to trespass against him. She knew that if he needed and WANTED to, he’d approach HER. And in response, she’d be a safe person…a safe PLACE…for him. More than willing to help him carry his baggage; lend an understanding ear, a shoulder to cry on, or someone to merely vent to.

Yet somehow, over the course of five days and while allowing him space, they became messily and irreversibly tangled up in one another. Two broken, world-weary people finding solace in one another; finding comfort, pleasure, and safety in one another’s arms. And laying the foundation for a bond that was far stronger and ran much deeper than anything they’d ever experienced before.

*****

She sleeps soundly beside him. Tightly wrapped in one of the patchwork quilts; only the top of her head and her toes visible. It’ll take some getting used to; all the quirks and habits that make Esme who she is. Her tendency to steal every blanket, the way she quietly hums while working in the kitchen, how the labels on cans of food have to be perfectly lined up in the cupboard, and the towels and face cloths in each bathroom have to be an exact match. And he wonders how much of her idiosyncrasies come from the years spent under Mark’s extremely volatile and controlling behaviour; forced to have even the tiniest of details picture perfect.

The damage runs deep. It’s evidence existing even in the most innocent of moments. When he raises his voice or looks at her a certain way; noticing the way her entire body stiffens, and her lower lip and chin begin to tremble as she struggles to rein in her emotions. How she flinches if he moves too quickly beside her or simply reaches overhead. It’s what he hates the most: seeing the fear and the trepidation that immediately takes over. She had taken countless beatings over the course of three years, resulting in multiple trips to the ER, split lips and broken bones, a busted eardrum -and mild yet permanent hearing loss- and two stays in the Intensive Care Unit. Being treated as a punching bag stays with you; the trauma and lingering anxiety are both deeply rooted. And to have her react that way with him is a kick in the gut; the knowledge that while she claims to feel safe and protected in his presence, the ghost of her ex is always hovering close by, ready to make an appearance.

He’s unsure how long he stays in bed. One forearm slung over his eyes, the other across her pillow; his palm on the top of her head as his fingers continuously skim through her hair and his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow. Hoping to be lulled back asleep by her soft, warm skin and a combination of noises; Lucy’s sot snoring from her spot at the end of the bed, Esme’s occasional murmuring and giggling, the whistling of the wind and the rattling of the windows. But when rest continues to evade him and discomfort begins to settle in his shoulder, back, and knee, he forces himself to move. Wincing as he sits up and swings his legs over the side of the bed; briefly closing his eyes as fights off the pain and blindly reaches for the cane he’d stashed by the side of the nightstand.

It’s easier now; taking only one try -and tremendous trust in both the assistive device and his good leg- to get himself up onto his feet. His confidence slowly returning as each day…each minute…passes since he came out of his coma; he feels stronger and more optimistic and views each step as a tremendous milestone. Now able to walk small distances without the brace or the fear of the unsupported knee giving away underneath him; taking is slowly and easy as both strength and stamina begin to slowly return. And the pain is tolerable; relying solely on the prescriptions written by the specialists and adhering to the strict schedule they’d constructed and presented him with.

A hell of a feat for a guy who, just ten months ago, was a hard-core alcoholic and addict.

While the cravings remain and come out to play when he’s feeling his lowest and most defeated, he’s managed to keep his demons at bay; managing to find much healthier and productive ways of coping with the amount of guilt, grief, and self-loathing that still weigh him down. Reminding himself at the start of each day that it’s no longer ‘just him’; that there’s someone not only relying on him to stay clean and sober, but who vehemently BELIEVES in him. There’s too much to lose now; a new life that he’s building with a person that doesn’t necessarily need him, but WANTS him. Who admits to being safe and secure in his presence; two things she’d never experienced before and never realized how much she needed to feel them. And it was her that he fought his way back for; hearing her voice and feeling her touch and desperately wanting to see her again. To once more experience those feelings she so easily and effortlessly managed to bring to the surface. Love and lust. Want and need. And so many damn things in between.

Dressing himself is what takes the most effort; having to fight through the pain that inhabits his surgically repaired left shoulder to even slip a shirt over his head and do up his pants. Esme, despite her tiny size, usually helps out; making him sit in a chair so she can properly assist him; patiently tending to things like zippers and buttons while never treating him like he’s a burden. Refusing to let feelings of frustration or helplessness fester inside of him; consistently reminding him -in the tender, loving way of hers- that this was all just a small bump in the road. Pointing out that he’s lucky to even still be alive; lesser men would have perished on that bridge, not fought their way back, especially for a woman they barely knew. She had been the only one who had seen him at his lowest in the hospital; the person that he could be completely vulnerable with and not live to regret it. Such a small and seemingly fragile woman that was tougher than any soldier or mercenary he’d ever known; putting her own ass on the line in order to save his. And then putting her entire life on hold in hopes that she’d be able to create something new with HIM; a man with mountains of baggage and addiction issues and a six-year-long death wish.

Planting his palm on the mattress, he leans over the bed; his eyes briefly closing as his nose nuzzles her temple with the tip of his nose. Breathing in that familiar scent: milk and honey and coconut. A smell that isn’t particularly unique, but represents everything that is good and beautiful that continues to thrive between them. They’re both a mess; they willingly and easily admit to that. But they hold onto the hope that maybe…just maybe…two broken people CAN come together to make a slightly tarnished, dented whole.

Limping out into the dimly lit kitchen, he makes himself a cup of coffee before retreating to the sofa; wasting half an hour alternating between watching the local news channel on mute and browsing the web on his phone. Boredom quickly sets in and he renders him anxious and fidgety; the frustration growing over the reality that none of his usual activities -all centred around keeping his body busy in hopes of distracting his mind- are unavailable to him.

It’s a difficult and bitter pill to swallow; used to leading an active lifestyle, yet now relegated to doing little more than limping around the house and feeling sorry for himself. The latter is what he’s desperate to avoid; warned before his release from the hospital that he was very likely to experience some level of depression. The deep and profound sadness that comes with remembering what your life was like…what YOU were like… before landing in their care, precariously teetering on death’s door. He had wanted to laugh in their faces; he didn’t WANT to remember the man he was prior to the events in Dhaka. That guy had died on the bridge; succumbing to multiple gunshot wounds and severe blood loss. And he no longer wanted to be HIM. Instead, determined to be the kind of man that Esme needed, wanted and deserved. It wasn’t the loss of his previous life that he mourned, it was what he couldn’t yet do with the new one he’d be given.

Unable to get comfortable on the couch, he makes a second cup of coffee and walks down to the lake; a mere fifty yards that may as well be fifty miles. It’s an incredibly slow and tedious journey; the combination of the ache in his knee and across his lower back, his diminished muscle tone and stamina, and the amount -and thickness- of the snow that has fallen over the past several hours. But once down there, it’s a hell of a view; the sky as black as freshly poured ink and embedded with a multitude of stars, the shadow of the mountains looming on the horizon. And the enormous full moon reflected on the body of water that has yet to freeze thoroughly.

It’s peaceful; with no neighbours for miles, and far enough away from the hustle and bustle of Vienna. And what could have easily been an incredibly isolating and lonely place to seek rest and refuge in, feels anything but. Just the mere thought of the comforts of home just yards away: good food, a loyal dog, a warm fire and a comfortable bed.

And the love of his life.

He’s not afraid to admit it. At least not to himself. But a fear lingers just under the surface; the worry that if he speaks the words aloud and puts them out into the universe, something will go disastrously wrong. As if it’s all too good to be true; surviving what would undoubtedly kill many and living to tell about it. Finding someone in the midst of all of the messiness and madness; someone willing to help shoulder and carry his burdens and who accepts every broken piece of him. Guys like him don’t deserve that kind of life; the blood they’ve spilled and the ‘body count’ that they’ve racked up. Most are proud of what they’ve done; the tallies they keep, the stories they share, and the memories of all the gruesome and painful ways they punished people. The thought of that life leaves him feeling hollow. Ashamed. He’s not proud of the things he’s done; the lives he’s taken, the families he’s ruined, and the money he’s taken in the process. But it was all he’d known; a soldier from the time he was eighteen years old. Strength and agility and speed and immense power and skill.

Since the moment he’d been lucid enough to comprehend what had happened and the toll it took on his mind and body, he’d wondered where he’d go from there. If retirement was truly the only option. He didn’t feel defeated; Esme made sure of that as she served as his one-woman cheering section. She kept him going on the days he didn’t think he could; reminding him of how far he’d come, how many people he’d proven wrong, and just how strong and resilient he is.

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Tyler,” she’d informed him, shortly after a more painful and tedious than usual physiotherapy session. “You shouldn’t even be here, but you ARE. Don’t let Dhaka win. Not now. You’ve come too far to give it that satisfaction.”

So he keeps going. For her.

Taking one last swallow of coffee, he carefully gets to his feet; dumping the remains in the lake and then turning towards the house. Facing the lone, now empty chair on the edge of the deck.

He’ll have to change that. Add to it. Get her a chair of own. In her favourite colour, if he can find it.

After all, it’s not just him anymore.

****

“Tyler?”

He gives a small start; her voice quiet and tired as she stands on the threshold between the master bedroom and kitchen. Unsure of just how long he’s been sitting at the table; feeling empty and numb as he stares at the black, blank screen of his laptop. Has it been just minutes? Hours? How much time HAS passed since he returned to the cabin and stumbled upon the box Nik had brought from his old place? The moment he’d stepped inside, he’d come face to face with his past. Sitting right where he’d left it; on the table by the door, surrounded by car and house keys and cell phones and various items to throw into the recycle boxes out on the porch.

He doesn’t even remember picking the box up. Never mind sitting down to rifle through it. Everything is muddled and running together: the sound of his son’s voice and giggle, the sight of unruly, blond hair and enormous hazel eyes and a beautiful smile. Images and memories that have been fading with time; adding more pain on top of the grief, regret, and guilt that he can’t seem to shake.

“Go back to sleep, babe.” He tries to keep his voice even. Emotionless. But his throat burns, and his chest feels tight, and he’s not sure he can be convincing in the slightest. “ It’s late. Or really early. Whatever way you want to look at it.”

“I woke up, and you were gone. It scared me. I got worried.”

“You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t.”

“Are you alright? Did you have a bad dream? Like the ones you had in the hospital?”

“I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. I think it’s just a matter of adjusting; to how damn dark and quiet it is here. It’s like night and day.”

“It is kind of weird,” Esme admits. “I noticed it right away, too. It wasn’t like this. There were always lights on and always some kind of noise. Or people waking you up. What are you doing?”

“Nothing. I was just watching something. On the ‘net.”

“Are you okay? Any pain? Do you need some meds or…?”

“I’m fine,” he assures her, tone more curt than it needs to be. She doesn’t deserve that; her fears and concerns come from a place of genuine love and adoration. And she’d spent the better part of a year by his bedside; not only fighting for the best possible care but refusing to give up long after everyone else had all but ‘pulled the plug’. “But thank you,” he quickly adds, glancing over his shoulder to where she lingers in the bedroom doorway. A tiny figure illuminated only by moonlight and the glow of the bedside lamp; diminutive frame all but swallowed by a pair of blue and red plaid pyjamas. “For worrying about me.”

“It’s what I do best.”

“I can think of a few things you do best. Better than anyone else I’ve ever known.”

She gives a small laugh. “That’s a hell of a compliment coming from a ‘total male slut turned one woman man’. Unless…”

“Don’t even finish that. There’s only you. There’s only EVER going to be you.” It’s the truth; knowing in his heart that this is it. This is the ‘one.’ And it’s going to move fast. Taking on a breath-stealing, almost terrifying pace that is impossible to stop. Not that he wants to.

“Do you need some company? I could make some tea and…”

“Just go back to bed. I’ll be there in a few.”

“Okay,” she relents, and then hesitates. Chewing anxiously on her bottom lip, her hand remaining on the doorframe as she watches him from across the room.

He wants to tell her. He NEEDS to tell her. Fill in those last remaining gaps that separate his former life from his present; unable to fully move on until he closes the final chapter. And it’s something he so desperately desires: the ability to completely concentrate on what he has in front of him. Those things that are real and tangible; the sound of both her voice and laugh, the familiar scent that clings to her body and hair, that special little smile that is reserved solely for him, and the way she cradles his face in her hands and kisses with a softness that takes his breath away. They…SHE…deserves all of him. And he can’t give her that, unless…

“Esme?”

The soft creak of the floorboards again. And out of the corner of his eye, he sees her in the doorway once more.

“Will you do something for me?”

*****

She sits at the kitchen table nursing a mug of tea, the laptop open and waiting on the tabletop. And she gives him a smile when he joins her, unzipping his hoodie and draping it over her shoulders before sitting down next to her. Tightly huddled together; both shoulders and the sides of their legs pressed against each other.

His fingers hesitate over the keyboard. “Before I show you this, a word of warning: my ex is in it.”

“Okay…”

“I just didn’t want you to be surprised by it. Or have it upset you. To see her.”

“Why would it upset me? You had a life before me. Just like I had one before you.”

“If I’m honest, I’m not exactly thrilled at ever seeing what your ex looked like.”

“It’s not like you can compare the two. I know things weren’t perfect; you guys had your problems long before your son ever got sick. But Mark is in a league all of his own. He’s his own brand of evil. No one can even come close, believe me.”

“Maybe it’s better I NEVER see him. Or find out where he lives.”

“If anything…” She sips at her tea. “...it’s better for HIM if you don’t.”

“My son’s in it too. He’s the reason I want you to watch it. Because he was my life, and now you are and…” Tyler swallows around the lump of emotion that sits square in his throat. “...and I need you to see him.”

“Alright.”

“But only if you WANT to. See him. I don’t want you doing it because I’m bullying you into it. I don’t…”

“I’d love to see him. I WANT to see him.”

It’s just as painful -if not more- to watch the second time. The emotions heightened. Flooded by the memories of his son and overwhelmed by the added element; Esme beside him as he shares an enormous part of his life BEFORE her. He’s filled with a level of anxiety that he can’t quite explain; teetering on the threshold of fear as he anticipates her reactions to the things she’s seeing and hearing. The image of him twirling his son high in the air, his ex-wife smiling and talking to the camera as she splashes in the surf, Austin with his shrieks and his giggles, and his shaggy hair and enormous eyes as he races towards the camera.

She’s the first person he’s ever shared his son with; others in his life not caring to get that ‘attached’ to him or his past. And if he’s honest, he can admit that he’s never been with someone he WANTED to share those memories with. Nik viewed him -at times- as nothing more than a nuisance and a way to scratch her own itch, and Yaz and him have never been close enough to consider each other friends. And all the women he’d bedded after his divorce were nothing more than conquests; opportunities to be physically satisfied without the added strings attached.

Although he’s vaguely aware he’s holding his breath the entire time the video plays, he hears every little laugh she gives and sees -out of the corner of his eye- every smile that curves her lips. And when it’s over and he can finally breathe again, the silence in the cabin is deafening; somehow eerily drowning out the howling of the wind and rattling of the windows and the crackling of the fire. He finds himself unable to move or speak for what seems like a lifetime; frozen and rooted in place. Unable to speak or form even a coherent thought until Esme gives a choked sob beside him; her entire body shaking as tears spill down her cheeks.

“Hey…” Laying a hand on the back of her head, Tyler gently pulls her towards him. “...don’t…”

“It’s not my place. To be feeling these things. It’s not my loss or my grief. I didn’t know you then. I didn’t know him. I didn’t…”

“It’s okay…” He presses a kiss to the bridge of her nose, then rests his forehead against hers. “...you don’t have to explain. You don’t…”

“It’s because of how I feel about you. I hate that you went through this. That you lost your son. And I’m so sorry, Tyler. That this happened. That he got sick and he died and…”

“Shhh…” Pushing his fingers through her hair, he gently kneads at her scalp. “...just breathe, Esme. Just breathe…”

“You didn’t deserve that. None of you did. Not you, not Mia, and especially not your son. And if there was any way I could go back and fix things so it never happened…”

“Listen to me,” Pulling away, he takes her face in his hands; voice stern, eyes locked on hers. “Don’t you EVER say that. I don’t want you even THINKING it. Because if you change one thing, you change everything. That means you wouldn’t exist. We wouldn’t exist. And I wouldn’t give this…YOU…up for anything. Or anyone.”

“Really?”

“I know that probably makes me sound like a really shitty person. A really shitty DAD.”

“It makes you sound honest. Even if it were possible, you wouldn’t…?”

“Even if it were. I still wouldn’t change a damn thing. ‘Cause I’m in way too deep. With you. And it’s fucking terrifying.”

“It is. But not in a bad way, you know? Not in a way that makes me want to run away from it. Because I know I’m okay. I know I’m safe. With you. And you’re the first person to ever make me feel that way. And I never realized I NEEDED to feel that.”

“I don’t know what good I’d be right now. Can’t do much when it comes to the whole protecting thing.”

“If you had to, you’d find a way. If there was some kind of threat or I was in any kind of danger, nothing would stop you from keeping me safe.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.”

“Someone has to. And it’s not just a physical thing. Feeling safe with you. I can’t explain it. I just know that I’m okay. That nothing bad is going to happen to me. No one is going to hurt me. I don’t have to worry about having my heart broken. Or my face, for that matter.”

“Not all men hit.”

“I know. And for the longest, I always thought they did. That's all I knew. About love. I thought it was ugly and painful and that I didn’t deserve anything better than that. And then I met you. Now I’m not scared anymore. At least, not of that.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared you’re going to run. I mean, you just said it was terrifying; all the things you feel for me. What if it becomes too much? What if…?”

“I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him since I met you. Do you think we’d have gotten this far…that we’d be here right now…if I were still him?”

She shakes her head.

“It’s all going to be okay. It’s not a bad scary. Not in the slightest. It’s just…”

“Overwhelming.”

He nods.

“But like in this amazing way. It’s scary, but it’s not a horrible scary. Does that make sense?”

“To me, it does. If you were to tell anyone else that, they’d probably think you’re nuts.”

Giving a small laugh, she uses the sleeves of her pyjamas to wipe away her tears; a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she regards the now blank computer screen. “Your son was so beautiful, Tyler. He looked so much like you.”

“Everyone used to say that. He had his mum’s eyes, though.”

“This might be way off base, but why did you only have one? He was six when he died. How come you and Mia didn’t have another baby? I mean, it’s hard to judge off a three-minute video, but you both looked like great parents. Why…?”

“We realized that we were better as friends than as husband and wife. It’s pretty much how we lived. For the last couple of years before he got sick. We weren’t bringing another kid into that. It was hard work; keeping up appearances for him. We didn’t want him to know that we were sticking together for him. Maybe when we got a little older, he could have handled knowing that, but…”

“Why did you get married? If you weren’t that compatible, why…?”

“I thought we were. I thought I loved her. I mean, I did. I DID love her. But not the kind of love that’s enough to have more kids and keep a marriage going. The funny thing is, it took me until I was thirty-five to realize all that.”

“What happened when you were thirty-five?”

He stares at her pointedly.

“I’m kidding.” Pressing a kiss to the bridge of his nose, she turns back to the laptop; chewing on her bottom lip as she drums her fingernails on the lid. “Did you go to the beach a lot? Was that a favourite thing to do?”

“Once we moved to Australia, we went there quite a bit. He loved it. Anything to do with water.”

“You didn’t live there? When you got married?”

“We got married in Brussels. I was stationed there. When we met. And it made sense to extend my posting; her career was there, and I didn’t have any family or anyone else waiting for me back home, so…”

“How long did you stay?”

“Seven years. My boy was three when we moved to Australia.”

“Took you guys long enough to have kids. Why…?”

“She wasn’t sure she wanted any. Mia was always about her work. It always came first. Even after we got married. Even after my boy came along. We were both bad for that; putting other things and other people before each other. That was probably one of the biggest issues. Other than me being a fucking asshole.”

“There’s no way you were THAT bad. You’re not a horrible person, Tyler. You’re a good person who made a bad mistake. So I highly doubt you were some evil being while you were married to her.”

“I wasn’t a good husband. I didn’t know how to be one. I told you about my dad. I didn’t exactly have a role model growing up. When it came to how I should treat a wife.”

“You didn’t…”

“Hit her? No. Fuck, no. I’ve never been THAT messed up. I just wasn’t present. Like I should have been. And maybe part of it was because SHE wasn’t? So I figured, why should I be? I don’t really know. All I DO know is that she deserved better. And that she was worth a lot more than I was ever willing to give her.”

“Where is she now?”

“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“Do you ever think about finding her? Contacting her?”

Tyler shakes his head. “That chapter is closed. And trust me, I’m the last person she wants to hear from.”

“Do you miss her?”

“No.”

“Do you still love her?”

“I love YOU.”

“You feel nothing for her?”

“I don’t think I ever really did. Not if I go by what I feel now. For you.”

“Do you ever think about having another kid? About being a dad again?”

“I’ve thought about it a couple of times. In the last few weeks, anyway. Before that? No. I mean, I fucked it up once. Why would I want to fuck it up again?”

“You weren’t a horrible father. You were a really good one who found himself in an awful situation.”

“It was the worst mistake I ever made. Abandoning him.”

“If you could go back…”

“Esme…”

“Just hear me out. IF you could go back and change just that one thing? If you found a way to rewind the clock and stay until the bitter end, do you think things would have been different? For you and Mia?”

“No. Because we ended a long time before his life ever did.”

“And that was a mutual thing or….?”

“We had already talked about it: getting divorced, custody, support. We were ready to start the process. And then he got sick and everything changed. We decided to stay together for him. First, it was until he was finished treatment and he was cancer-free. And then when we realized he wasn’t going to get better, it was until he died.”

“Are you angry? At her? For things not turning out the way you wanted them to? Relationship wise?”

“I have no reason to be angry at her. We both made mistakes.”

“I can’t imagine going through all of that. That’s a parent’s worst nightmare. Their child getting sick and seeing them waste away, and then watching them die. I…” Taking a long, quivering breath, Esme swipes at her tears with the back of her hand. “...I feel sorry for her. That she lost her baby. I know what it was like to lose one in the early stages; before I ever got to know if it was a boy or a girl or even plan a nursery or think about names. I can’t imagine having a child…this little being I carried inside of me for nine months…and losing them.”

“Just because you didn’t go all those months and give birth, doesn’t mean you weren’t a mum.”

“It was so early into things. I didn’t even get out of the second trimester. And it’s not that I did anything wrong…”

“That thought didn’t even cross my mind.”

“...it’s just that the baby was sick. They did some tests after I miscarried, and they admitted they missed a lot of things. During the ultrasounds. The baby had a lot of things wrong with it. That it couldn’t possibly survive even if I DID carry to term. Not compatible with life, they said.”

“I’m sorry. That you went through that. That you didn’t get to see your baby.”

“I would have had it anyway. Or tried to. Had things been different and I’d been able to carry to term. Or close to it. He blamed me, you know. Mark. He said it was my fault. That I was ‘paying for my sins’. That it was because I was a terrible wife and I was being taught my lesson. That I needed to be a better person and listen to what he said and do what I was told…”

“The more you tell me about this guy, the more I WANT to find out where he was. So I CAN kill him. But not before I torture him. Slowly and extremely painfully.”

“I believed it. For the longest time. Even after I’d gotten away from him. It took me longer than it should have to realize he was the problem. Not me. And I’m not perfect. By any stretch of the imagination. But I’m not the things he said he was. I’m not.”

“I know that. You don’t have to convince me.” And if you DO want me to track him down and kill him…”

“I want him to stay in the past. It won’t do any good, Tyler. Letting him in here. To this place. To this life. That we’re making together. He doesn’t deserve to be part of it.”

“But you know you can talk about it, yeah? When you need to? Because keeping that in? That’s not good. Esme. And it won’t lead anywhere good. Believe me, I know.”

“There’s not much more I need to say. I’ve told you everything. Even the ugliest and most brutal of parts. Yet you’re still here.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“A lot wouldn’t stay. Most men would see how big of a mess I am and cut their losses and take off.”

“Well, what can I say? I’m not like most men.”

She manages a laugh. “You can say that again.”

“And you’re not that big of a mess, trust me. You’re talking to a pretty big one.”

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we? What was it that Nik said? About the blind leading the blind?”

“What the fuck would Nik know? She doesn’t love anything but her work. I don’t think she’s capable of it.”

“She loves you.”

“Don’t start with that. Don’t…”

“I don’t mean in THAT way. She could, for all I know. But it’s not like she’s ever confided in me about it. I just meant that she cares about you. She wants what’s best for you.”

“She wanted to pull the plug.”

“Well, lucky for you, I wouldn’t let her. And she knew better than to fight me about it. She knew it would be a losing battle.”

“You are tough for a little thing.”

“I have five older brothers. Believe me, I HAD to be tough.”

“Yeah, well, even the tough ones need someone else to baby them from time to time.”

“Are you speaking from experience?”

“I only admit to that if it stays between me and you.”

“Another secret I have to keep for you? Jesus! It must be exhausting having to keep up your reputation.”

“It’s a twenty-four-hour job.” Cradling her face in his palms, he uses the pads of his thumbs to clear the last of her tears away. “Do you ever think about it? Trying to have another baby?”

“I’ve only thought about it every day. Since it happened.”

“And is there a reason maybe you can’t? Some kind of health thing that says maybe you shouldn’t or…?”

“It had nothing to do with me. I CAN carry to term. Or so I’ve been told. My body is fine. Everything is in working order. It was one of the first things I asked; if there was a reason I couldn’t be a mom.”

“And you want to be, yeah? A mom?”

“I’ve only wanted to be a mom since I was a little girl. Probably for the lack of a decent mother in my life. Why?”

“Just curious. Something I thought was important to know. I mean, I’ve thought about it. Us. Babies.”

“Really?”

“You haven’t?”

“A couple of times. Here and there. I wouldn’t object to it…” She pushes a hand through his hair; holding the longer top strand off his brow. “...you putting your big-headed, big-footed babies in me.”

“Excuse you?”

“You have a big head. And big feet. REALLY big feet, actually.”

“You’re just abnormally tiny. Maybe our kids would be, too.”

“One can hope. For my poor vagina’s sake. And you have to admit, we’d make really beautiful babies.”

“If they look like their mother, yeah.”

“Do you not look in the mirror? How do you not realize how good-looking you are? I don’t understand it. Why is it that some of the most beautiful people never understand just HOW beautiful they are?”

“I’ve lived with this face for thirty-five…’

She noisily clears her throat.

“Thirty-SIX years. I know what I look like. I know my shortcomings.”

“Baby, there is nothing short about you in the slightest.”

“And you have the nerve to call ME the dirty one?” Pushing wayward strands away from the sides of her face and out of her eyes, he holds her cheeks in his palms and presses a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. “You okay?”

She nods. “Are you?”

“I am now. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything, Just…everything.”

Smiling, she pecks the tip of his nose. “I should be thanking YOU. For sharing your son with me. For letting me see him. It means a lot, you know that. That you trust me with that. With HIM.”

“Like I said, he was my life. And now you are. It was important to me. That you saw him. And found out more about him.”

“I know how hard it is for you, Tyler. Talking about him. Never mind letting me see him. So for you to do that? To WANT that? That’s huge. I’m proud of you.”

“Now you’re going to make ME cry.”

“Well, that’s another thing you’re learning. That it’s alright to do that. It’s okay not to be the big, bad, mercenary man all the time.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.” Wrapping her arms around his torso, she rests her head upon his shoulder, her nose pressed against his neck. The boss.”

“If it helps you sleep better at night….” Repeatedly running his hands along her sides, he places a kiss on her temple. “...you should try getting some more.”

“Only if you do.”

“I’ll be in a few minutes. After I tidy things up out here.”

“Alright,” she reluctantly agrees, and slides off her chair. “Will you check the doors again? And the windows?”

“Babe, we live in the middle of normal. So unless the bears know how to open shit…”

“Please? Just check again? For paranoid little old me?”

“Just for you.”

Tugging affectionately on his ears, she drops a kiss on the top of his head. “Thank you. Don’t be long, okay? I don’t like sleeping alone.”

“Believe me, neither do I.”

He watches as she goes; listening to the patter of her bare feet and her tiny yawns and seeing the way she pauses to stretch while on the threshold between kitchen and master bedroom. It’s the first time he’s ever really ‘noticed’ someone; the things that make them tick, their quirks and eccentricities. All those little things that make them, THEM.

And he loves every single one.

****

It’s daylight when he wakes; sunlight streaming through the curtains, the snowstorm having stopped in the wee hours of the morning. He can’t recall the exact time he returned to bed, but Esme had immediately responded to him slipping under the blankets, squirming her way across the mattress and snuggling in as close and as tight as she possibly could. Her face buried in that favourite spot of hers between the side of his neck and shoulder; arm over his chest and a leg over one of his. And the last thing he recalls before once more succumbing to sleep is wrapping both arms around her; chin resting on the top of her head, his joined hands at the small of her back.

Now he wakes to an empty bed; the pillowcase and sheets on her side wrinkled, yet all the blankets pulled up to his chin and tucked tightly around him. And he immediately regrets tossing off the mound of quilts and comforters; violently shivering as reaches for a discarded pair of sweatpants slung over the bedside chair. It’s easy to slip into them, but getting to his feet is an entirely different story; a throbbing, stabbing pain in his knee on the initial bearing of weight. But it thankfully doesn’t threaten to buckle. That’s a good sign. He’ll take that as a ‘win.’

He finds her in the kitchen. Standing at the table, making him a cup of coffee with the French press, and still clad in her pyjamas, woolly socks, and one of his hoodies. Her hair twisted and piled onto the top of her head; crafted into a makeshift bun held together by two ballpoint pens. And her own laptop now sits open in the middle of the table, accompanied by a pad of paper and a pencil

Sanding behind her, Tyler lays a hand on her stomach and leans down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Mornin’.”

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” she cheerfully greets, and tilts her head back to smile up at him. “Good news! We won’t have to make coffee like we’re in the Stone Age for long! I ordered a coffee maker AND an espresso machine.”

“You’ve been busy.”

“Spending money. Well, YOUR money, technically. Sorry. I’m still having issues getting everything from my US account to the one here. As soon as it happens, I promise I’ll get that money back to you.”

Dropping two spoons of sugar into his coffee, he stirs vigorously. “Why would you need to do that?”

“‘Cause that money is yours and…”

“That money is in an account with BOTH our names on it.”

“But it’s all YOUR cash that’s in there. None of it’s mine and…”

“And what? That’s OUR money. Not just mine.”

“It’s the payment you got from Mahajan. Or part of it, anyway. You’ll never see the other half.”

“It’s OUR money,” he forcibly repeats, then fills her mug of tea from the pot on the stove before sitting down across from her. “Don’t ever call it just my money again.”

“You’re bossy.”

“Just telling it like it is. There’s nothing separate. Not anymore. Everything’s ours. There’s no yours or mine.”

“What about my cramps, my cravings for chocolate, and my pimples?” She gives a dramatic pout. “ I break out when my period is coming.”

“Okay, so all of THAT stuff is yours. How long have you been up?”

“A couple of hours. I did my yoga, took a bath. Then Lucy and I went for a walk; just down to the lake and back again. It’s not that cold out; it shouldn’t be too bad for walking around town for a bit. If you’re up to it.”

“I’m up to it. The knee’s feeling pretty good; didn’t try to give way when I put weight on it. That’s a good sign.”

“You still have to wear the brace, though. At least for a few more weeks. Give it a chance to toughen up some more. And the sling…”

“I promise I will put both of them on before I leave the house.”

Stretching her legs out under the table, she jabs him in the stomach with one of her feet. “I nag you because I care.”

“And I put up with it because you’re insanely hot and give fucking amazing head.”

“Jerk,” she grumbles, then aggressively presses her heels into his crotch. Giggling when he softly tickles the bottoms of her feet before taking them both in one hand and settling them in his lap.

They easily and comfortably lapse into their usual morning routine. Something they’d established in Dhaka and had continued when he’d woken from his coma and could stay awake for prolonged periods of time and hold a lucid conversation. Him grumpy and silent as Esme -her ever cheerful, bubbly self- talked his ear off about everything under the sun. And while it had initially annoyed him and at times -in the midst of horrendous pain- he found himself praying she’d just ‘shut the fuck up’, he’s grown to enjoy it. Knowing that living with her chattiness and enthusiasm is a hell of a lot better than the alternative. Not living with her at all.

“And I started a list!” She announces as she switches from one topic to the other; making the effortless switch about having to shovel out the truck to her plans for the cabin. “Of things that we can tackle first in here. That won’t require too much manual labour.”

“Like…”

“Well, it’s really just ideas. For paint colours and flooring and if not new furniture altogether, at least covers for what’s already here. Modern it up, a bit.”

“I think we should go new everything. If we’re going to make this place a home, might as well go all out.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking. Which means we’re going to need a stove. Right now, we’re just dealing with two hot plates and a toaster oven. And I’m sorry, but those just aren’t going to cut it. I can’t bake in a toaster oven.”

“You bake?”

“I thought I told you that. I DO bake. And not to toot my horn, but I bake VERY well. I actually held a record in Colorado! Voted best pecan butter tarts in the entire state FIVE YEARS running!”

“I’m banging a celebrity.”

“A small-time celebrity, mind you. But yes, I do bake. And I LOVE doing it.”

“What else do you make? Besides these butter tarts?”

“Anything and everything. Cakes, pies, dessert squares, bread. Nothing is off limits.”

“Boston Cream pie?”

“That was my dad’s absolute favourite. He’s the one who taught me how to make it. I still use his recipe.”

“I’m going to gain a lot of weight, aren’t I.”

“You might. Although you’re a pretty active guy. You work out a lot and run and….”

“I’m not doing any of that right now.”

“Maybe not, but you’re not feeble. I can think of other ways…” She once more digs her toes into his crotch. “...that you can work up a sweat. Keep the pounds off.”

“You mean my favourite form of cardio?”

She wiggles her eyebrows suggestively, laughing when he reaches further under the table and tickles the back of her knee. “You would have liked him. My dad. He was a good guy.”

“How could he not have been? He raised you, didn’t he?”

“He did a lot more than my mom ever did, that’s for sure. We were a lot alike; we were both outgoing and chatty, and we enjoyed meeting new people everywhere we went. And we loved the same things; hockey and dirt biking and rock climbing. Fishing. We were ALWAYS outside. And we used to take trips, just the two of us. We’d rent a trailer and drive all over the state and visit all different kinds of different RV parks. Sometimes we even went further. Right into Kansas or Oklahoma or Nebraska. Even New Mexico. We did it just do it. Get away from it all. And especially to get away from my mother and brothers.”

“Yeah, she sounds like a real piece of work.”

“You remind me of him. In a lot of ways. How much you love the outdoors and animals, how far you’re willing to go to protect people. You’re all about rooting for the underdog. Sticking up for them when no one else does or when they can't do it for themselves. He was the same way.”

“That’s a hell of a compliment. Being compared to him. Considering everything you’ve told me about him…”

“I think he would have liked you. Maybe not a first; at first, he might have had a hard time. I mean, you being the one that managed to scoop up his baby girl and take her all the way to the other side of the world in a quest to make an honest woman out of her.”

He grins. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“But he would have warmed up to you. Eventually. Not sure how he would have felt about the mercenary thing…”

“That might have been something to keep quiet. Spare him from having a heart attack. Your mother, on the other hand…”

“She has been leaving me all kinds of messages; voice mails, texts, emails, even. She is not buying the whole ‘meeting someone on a business trip and deciding to shack up with them’ story I handed her. I guess I’ve underestimated her; she IS smart enough to put the pieces together.”

“You’ll have to talk to her sooner or later.”

“Can I choose later?”

“Not unless you want her to keep calling and bugging the shit out of you.”

“I just don’t know what to say. What more does she need to know? I met someone, and I’m not coming back to the States. It’s as simple as that.”

“As evil as she is, and I’m in no way on her side, I think you owe her more than that.”

“I can’t tell her how we met. I can’t tell her what I really did for a living. And I definitely can’t tell her that you’re a mercenary. Because that will go through the family like wildfire, and believe me, that is not drama either of us deserves to deal with.”

“I’m not a mercenary. Not anymore. I WAS one. Is there a reason you don’t want her to know that? Does it embarrass you, or are you ashamed of it or…?”

“Oh my god, no! No! It’s nothing like that. I’m neither of those. Not when it comes to you or what you do for a living. It has nothing to do with you and EVERYTHING to do with her. She will raise hell. And then she’ll get my brothers involved and…”

“What can they do? They’re in Colorado. We’re in Austria. It’s not like they’re going to show up on our doorstep.”

“I just know what she’s like. How she blows things way out of proportion. And right now? I just do NOT want to deal with her shit. I don’t want her causing issues and then having it trickle all the way here and cause problems with us. That’s all I’m concerned about. You and me. And this happy little bubble we’ve locked ourselves into. Can’t we at least try and keep it intact?”

“You’re going to have to tell her sooner or later. The WHOLE truth. Because it’s going to get it one way or another, and I just think it’s better if you’re the one that tells her. She’d lose it more if she found out from someone else.”

“She’s just so evil. And if you never meet her, trust me, it’s for the best. You don’t deserve to put up with her shit.”

“How worse could it get? She already hates me, doesn’t she?”

“She doesn’t even know you.”

“I’m the one that stole her little girl away. By gunpoint, if you go by her reaction. She probably thinks I’m holding you hostage. That I don’t let you leave the house. Or…in your case… answer the phone.”

“I will talk to her. I promise. Just not right now. Not for a few days. Can’t we settle in? Somewhat, at least?”

“You know I’m going to nag the shit out of you until you actually DO contact her, yeah?”

Esme sighs. “I know. In the same way, I will consistently nag you about taking care of yourself. What’s that saying? All is fair in love and war? If you have to put up with me, I guess it’s only fair I put up with you.”

“We both know that I’m the one suffering the most.”

She once more digs her toes into his stomach. “As if!”

They once more fall into a companionable silence. Even from the beginning, there’s never been a need for mindless chit-chat; both extremely comfortable in the other's presence. No feeling of awkwardness or the need to put on airs and hide even the messiest and most complicated parts. While living with someone will take a considerable amount of both work and sacrifice, the foundation has already been laid: an ease and trust that should make any hurdle easier to get over.

There’s contentment in merely sharing the same space with her. Whether it be sitting across the table from one another or lounging on separate ends of the couch, or listening to her hum as she busies herself in the kitchen or the bedroom. Even seeing her belongings nestled beside his on the bathroom counter or her clothes hanging near his. And he’s discovered that he’s plagued with a constant need to touch her in some way; whether it be their toes against one another under the table, sides of their legs pressed together while watching TV, or brushing up against while she stands at the sink or the stove DESPITE there being room for not to even come in contact with her. Perhaps it’s to prove to himself that she’s indeed real; she truly HAS become a part of his life. She’s there willingly and happily. And while she doesn’t necessarily need him, she WANTS him.

He watches her now as she alternates between scrolling through a webpage on her laptop and jotting notes in her memo book; the way she chews on the inside of her cheek or taps the pen against the paper, those freckles -in all their glory- that are splattered across the bridge of her nose and travel onto the tops of her cheeks. Fresh-faced and beautiful; she seems years younger with her wild hair and the piercing just below the middle of her bottom lip, and the small, silver hoops and various sparkling studs that travel from the lobes of her ears to the very top of the cartilage. She’s both girl next door and filled with oddities and eccentricities; a mix of both polished and ‘rough around the edges’.

And to him, she’s perfect.

“You feel like going out for lunch today? When we’re in town?”

She looks up from her notebook, dark eyes gleaming. “Are you asking me out on a date, Tyler Rake?”

“Guess it’s about time. Didn’t exactly get the chance to nine months ago. And I’ve been a little…busy…between then and now.”

“Where are we going to eat?”

“Anywhere you want. Mind you, I’m not sure how many options we’re actually going to find, but…”

“What do they think they eat here?”

“Probably what people all over the world eat. All different kinds of things.”

“But I wonder what their specialty is. What they’re known for. There must be such a thing as Austrian cuisine, right?”

“I guess we’re going to find out, aren’t we? So is that a yes, or….”

Sighing, she sighs dramatically and returns her attention to her notepad. “I’m going to have to think about it.”

Scowling, he pinches the back of her calf.

“Of course, it’s a yes! Did you honestly think you’d get a different answer?”

“You know, you’re lucky you’re cute.”

“It comes in handy.”

“I bet you get away with an awful lot because of it.”

She smiles mischievously and then reaches for her tea, winking at him from over the brim as she presses it to her lips. “That’s something YOU’RE going to find out.”

#tw:childhood cancer #tw:child death #tw: miscarriage #Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Chris Hemsworth #Esme Drummond #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing. Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (eventually Rake)

Face claims: Chris Hemsworth and Rachel Bilson

***

“Here I stand

Taking off my pride

And I run with nowhere to hide

I'm exposed flaws and all

You're still here and that's something beautiful.

Like the sun shining through the rain

Here with you sharing better days

I'll be lost, lost without you

Thank God you're still here and that's something beautiful.

If I fall, crash down to my knees

You pick me up, running to my needs

Even if I'm wrong with no one to call, but  you're still here

And that's something beautiful.”

-Something Beautiful by Jacob Banks BUT performed by Gabriel Henrique (and only Gabriel lol)

***

@youflickedtooharddamnit @munstysmind @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @tragiclyhip @ninjasawakenedmystar @thebejeweledwatercat @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @mrsmungus @theesirenteller @alisbackalleybbq

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 28

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. You do NOT have to read the series to understand this fic)

Warnings: slight profanity

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @thebejeweledwatercat @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @themaradwrites @kmc1989 @karimac @asirensrage @residentdormouse @fanficanatic-tw @ninjasawakenedmystar @arrthurpendragon @occommunity @ocappreciationtag @theesirenteller @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3:

My tag list is OPEN. Just ask if you'd like to be added :D

****

On day six, she forces herself out of bed. Tired of staring at the same four walls and depression and frustration setting in; feeling isolated and lonely, jealous as she listens to life as it continues around her. She misses the constant interaction and stimulation; saddened by the lack of colour, the smell of fresh air, the absence of conversation, and even the briefest and most innocent of physical contact.

The absence of tubes and wires makes it easier to slip out from under the confines of the crisp, warm sheets. The pain is dull yet manageable; centred in the ribs, sternum, and the middle of her back as she carefully sits up and gingerly swings her legs over the side of the mattress. The effort leaving her winded, but not defeated; her eyes closed as she slowly and deeply breathes through the tightness and the discomfort in her chest. Waiting until it passes before she stands; her knees initially buckling and her legs feeling impossibly weak, the room briefly spinning around her as her both body and brain try to centre and strengthen themselves. And she’s unsure of how much time passes before she makes those first movements; shuffling her way across the room and gaining confidence with each successful step. Spurred on when she finds it easier than expected to slip out of her nightgown and into fresh clothing; a simple pair of terry cloth shorts and a t-shirt pulled out of Tyler’s duffle bag.

The journey out of the room and down the hall and stairs is slow and tedious; her legs and her determination driven by a mixture of stubbornness and sheer spite. She has survived much worse; the many beatings that Mark had bestowed upon her, the times he’d put her in the hospital, the two stints in the ICU. If he couldn’t break and defeat her, she surely wasn’t giving Alessio and his family the pleasure of knowing they succeeded. And although she is forced to take several small breaks along the way and has to resort to leaning against stair railings and walls, she enjoys the feel of the smooth, cold marble under her bare feet.

The conversations on the outside patio become clearer with each small step. Yaz with his cool, calm tone laced with humour and sarcasm, Tyler’s much lower and resonating deep within his chest, each syllable dripping with his Australian accent. And Millie with that tiny yet always confident and sometimes commanding voice; high-pitched with excitement, her words occasionally making way for that infectious giggle.

Esme can imagine that sweet face; sunkissed cheeks and nose, vibrant blue eyes, a smile that spreads from ear to ear. A fierce, free-spirited little girl who routinely throws caution to the wind and lives her life one mud puddle to jump in or towering tree to climb at a time. Fearless and resilient in ways no one that young should ever be; witnessing things that someone so innocent and precious should never have to endure. Yet somehow, she hangs on to breathtaking levels of vibrance and exuberance and a love for the world and everyone and everything in it.

The patio is enormous. A central courtyard surrounded by the villa’s stucco and brick walls and countless picture windows. The flooring intricately laid mosaic tiles; a mixture of turquoise, vibrant yellow, royal blue, and smoky grey. An inground pool with outer edges lined by over a dozen loungers and chairs; simple wooden frames with crisp, white, navy blue, and gray striped cushions. An outdoor kitchen rivalling the gourmet one that resides inside the house; stone pizza ovens, wood burning stoves, top-of-the-line smart fridges, and a fully stocked bar.

The elegance is teamed with a section dedicated solely to Millie; an expansive wooden play structure with a spiral slide, saucer swings, a rope and rock climb, a teeter-totter and a sandbox. And a water table, a child-size three-story dollhouse -that had been handmade especially for her-, and a ‘battleground’ for her GI Joes. Doll-sized mud piles and trenches and caverns for them to hide in.

“Look! Look! Look!” Millie squeals from her spot at the dining table; the top covered end to end in various Lego pieces. Kneeling on her chair, she holds aloft a separate baggy of building bricks; her long, slender frame clad in a purple bathing suit, its front adorned by a lone brilliant pink flamingo. Both arms covered in multicoloured beaded bracelets. “Where do you think these go?”

“Open it up,” Tyler suggests, as he stands across the table in only a pair of camo board shorts; his hair damp and sticking up in several different directions, eyes covered by a pair of aviator shades. The lack of a shirt gives a clear view of the now-healing bruises that mar his back and shoulders and crawl down the rear of both biceps. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You can’t do that.” Yaz heaves an exasperated sigh. “That’s not how it’s done. You need to plan. Figure out where you want to start first. You can’t just jump into it and hope for the best.”

Tyler frowns. “I think you’re taking this way too seriously. It’s Lego. For kids.”

“Lego isn’t just for kids. Adults invest a lot of money in this. A lot of time. A lot…”

“Adults that don’t have sex lives, you mean. Because if they had them, they wouldn’t be so caught up in this kind of thing.”

“Adults who enjoy their hobbies. Who are into the finer things in life. Who…”

“Finer things in life? They’re plastic bricks.”

“These aren’t just any old Lego sets. These are intricate pieces of art. Some of these kits cost into the thousands. People have whole rooms dedicated to the ones they’ve put together; replicas of the Eiffel Tower, the Roman Coliseum, the Titanic.”

“I don’t care about any of that,” Millie declares. “I just want to build shit!”

Tyler nods in his daughter’s direction. “What she said.”

“It’s true. The apple really doesn’t fall far from the tree. You’re both feral.”

“The best part is when you get to break the thing!” Millie enthuses. “That’s my favourite! When I get to bust it all up!”

Leaning sideways in his chair, Yaz playfully tugs at the little one’s hair. “What is wrong with you? You can’t just ‘bust it all up’”

“Why not? It’s mine to do whatever I want with. You were the one who told me to pick out a Lego set, remember? And you didn’t like the one I did pick! I wanted the Lego Friends set with the cupcake shop, but you said, ‘No Mills. That’s not good enough. ' You were the one who picked THIS one.”

“You said you liked this one.”

“I do! But I thought I was going to get to break the shit out of it after I built it! That’s the part I love the most. About Legos. I love wrecking stuff. Causing a mess.”

“You’re definitely your father’s daughter. Tell you what…” Scooping Millie out of her seat, he settles her on his lap. “...we’ll go back to the store and get you a whole bunch of those Lego Friends sets. And you can put them together and bust them up all you want. But this one? This one stays in one piece. And here at mine and Auntie Nik’s place. On display.”

“You’re going to put it in your room, aren’t you? I don’t know, Uncle Yazzie, if you should do that. I don’t know if girls like seeing that kind of thing.”

“Not like that’ll happen any time soon,” Tyler mutters. “He has to actually know girls to be able to bring one back to his room.”

Yaz scowls. “I heard that.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” Millie continues. “I don’t think it’s very appealing. If you’re a grown-up and have Lego in your room. It’s kinda geeky.”

“Girls like geeks.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowing. “Do they though?”

“I’ll have you know that plenty of girls like geeks. You don’t think you’d ever like a geek?”

“How should I know? I’m only four. I don’t like ANY boys. They’re all annoying. They piss me off. They do gross stuff thinking it makes them look cool. Like burping and farting and stuff like that.”

“Hey, don’t shit talk burping and farting. How do you think your dad landed your mom?”

“Oh God, I hope not! That’s not how it happened, is it? You really didn’t…”

“I promise, there was no farting or burping involved. Not on my part anyway.”

Millie crunches her nose up in disgust. “Ewwww.”

“There was no gross stuff, I swear. From me or your mum. Do you really think your mum burps and farts?”

“I KNOW she does. Everyone burps and farts. Even girls.”

“I bet you don’t.”

“Are you kidding? If I eat too much cauliflower, my farts can clear an entire room!”

“She’s telling the truth,” Yaz confirms. “And her favourite thing to do is sit on your lap, carpet bomb you, and then take off.”

“It makes Uncle Yazzie gag,” Millie proudly announces, then giggles into the palms of her hands. “And if I eat lots of popcorn…”

“She’s a cute little thing, but she’s also smelly. And a savage.”

“I get it from my momma. Not the stinky part, but the cute, little, and savage stuff. Although I’m definitely going to be taller than her one day- probably by the time I’m ten. I have really long legs! See!” Leaning back against Yaz’ chest, she stretches out both legs. “They’re super skinny, too! And I got really big feet! I already wear a kid-size two! And I’m only four!”

“You get your skinny ass legs and your big feet from your dad,” Yaz says, and playfully tickles her stomach. “And your big ass forehead.”

“I do NOT have a big forehead!”

“Are you kidding me? Look at the size of it!” He playfully taps a fingertip against her brow. “I could land a helicopter on that thing!”

“That’s mean, Uncle Yazzie! That’s not friends.”

“I say it with love. Lots and lots of love.”

As he watches his daughter and Yaz together, Tyler notices that the anger is beginning to fade; no longer hurt or incensed over the realization that while he’d been kept in the dark about his daughter’s existence, those he’d trusted and respected had been allowed to be part of her life. But now he’s able to see things from a different standpoint; how lucky Milie is to have so many people who love and adore her and would do anything to keep her safe and sound. Protecting both her and Esme FOR him; in expectation of him and Esme reuniting and being able to raise their little girl together.

It’s obvious just how loved Millie has been; happy and healthy and thriving and one hundred percent comfortable with the people that surround her. And she’s been a positive influence on all of their lives; a bright and bubbly and rambunctious little one bringing a sense of normalcy into the rather twisted and dark world they’re immersed in. Gun runners and soldiers for hire that trade in the danger and unpredictability for giggles and smiles, kisses and hugs. He’s witnessed sides to Nik and Yaz that he never has before; a softness and patience and a compassion that he’d never been privy to.

“You even got his ears,” Esme declares as she stands behind Tyler, pushes herself up on her tiptoes, and playfully tugs on his earlobes. “Cutest elf ears ever.”

“Momma!” Millie shrieks and hurriedly slides off Yaz’s lap; bare feet slapping against the patio stones as she races towards Esme. Heeding Tyler’s reminder to ‘be ‘gentle’ as she throws her arms around her mother’s thighs and buries her face in her stomach; her entire body trembling as she openly sobs. “Momma…”

Pushing through the pain that comes from simply embracing her daughter. Esme curls an arm around Millie’s long, slender body. A hand on the back of her head as she holds as tight as she possibly can; showering her little one’s temple and cheek with kisses. “My sweet girl. My sweet sweet girl. How I love you.”

“I missed you, mommy. I missed you so much.”

“How could you miss me?” Cradling Millie’s face in her palms, she uses her thumbs to clear tears off the four-year-old’s cheeks. “You see me all the time. We always hang out. Watch movies, do crafts, take naps. And you gave me a pedi yesterday.”

“It’s not the same. It’s different. I don’t like it. I like it when things are normal. When we do our normal things together.”

“Yeah, you’re a stickler for routine at times, aren’t you? Things will go back to normal soon. And in a few days, we’ll be out of here and on our way to Australia.”

“Home, right? Our forever home?”

“Our forever and ever home. And you’ll finally get to see kangaroos and koalas and…”

“And really big spiders and snakes! I really want to see those spiders! The ones that are the size of a dinner plate!”

“Well, I know I could go without ever seeing one of those. But if you’re looking forward to it…”

“And I get to school, right? And make friends?”

“As soon as it’s safe for you to go. We just have to wait for Auntie Nik to fix the problems back in New York City. She needs time to do that; to make sure no one is going to show up and try to do bad things to us.”

“I’m not worried. I don’t care if they come to our house. Daddy won’t let them hurt us. He’ll protect us! He’ll kill the bad guys! ALL of them!”

It’s the first time hearing Millie call him that, and emotion immediately grabs hold of her. Tightening her chest and throat and bringing tears to her eyes. “Your daddy loves us very, very, VERY much. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for us. And if anyone can keep us safe and fight off the bad guys, it’s him. I’ve seen it. With my own two eyes.”

“I’m not worried. Not one bit.”

“Good. Because there’s no reason to be. We’re safe now. No one can hurt us. Not with your dad around. Now…” She combs her fingers through Millie’s hair “...what have you been up to? Lots of swimming? Look at all the sun you got on her cheeks and your nose. And I love your new bathing suit. Did you pick that out all on your own?”

Millie nods enthusiastically. “I picked out a whole bunch! And lots of summer clothes. For when we go home. ‘Cause it’s always hot there! And I got a new Lego set. Uncle Yazzie bought it for me! I’ll show you!”

As she excitedly scurries off, Esme smiles up at Tyler, tucking herself into his side when one of his hands settle at the small of her back. “Daddy? When did THAT happen?”

“First night here. Just came out while I was putting her to bed. Mind you she was half asleep when she said it..”

“It still counts. Half asleep or not.”

“After that, it became a regular thing. She’s been saying it ever since.”

“It must feel good, huh? Hearing it.”

“Nearly brought me to my knees when she first did it. And I won’t lie; I still want to cry every time she says it.”

“It’s been a long time; since you heard someone call you that.”

Tyler nods. “It has. And after you left, I didn’t think I’d ever get another chance. To hear someone say it.”

“She’s wanted to meet her dad for so long. She was only three when she started asking about you; wanting to know where her dad was. WHO he was. All her little friends at daycare had daddies, so why didn’t she? She’s so smart, Tyler. So, so, so smart. So intuitive. So…you.”

“I don’t know about that, Me. I see a lot of you in her. The more time I spend with her.”

“She’s got way more dad in her, trust me. She’s got your heart. She loves with everything she is and everything she has. Just like you. And it’s such a beautiful thing. How much she IS like you.”

“Must have been hard. Seeing that every day. While doing it all alone.”

“It was. But it was also amazing. Because I had that connection to you. We create this amazing little human being together. And I’m sorry it took me so long to bring her to you. I can’t make up for those years you lost. I can’t go back in time and change everything. And that’s something I’ll live with for the rest of my life.”

“I don’t want that. You holding onto that forever. You don’t need to. I forgive you, Esme. And I’m starting to accept it; you making the decisions that you did. I don’t want you carrying around that guilt forever. I know what it’s like; never letting something like that go. I speak from experience.”

“I never said a bad word about you. I may never have told her your name or what you looked like, but everything I DID tell her? It was all the truth. That you were a good man with a big heart. And that I loved you very much. That I still did and always would.”

“Even when I’m an enormous, insufferable pain in your ass?”

“Even then.”

Grinning, he moves his hand to the nape of her neck and pulls her into him, lips meeting her temple. “Speaking of being a pain in my ass, just what in the hell do you think you’re doing? Being out here?”

“I couldn’t stay in that room any longer. I was starting to go stir-crazy. I need some fresh air. And have you ever thought maybe I just miss you guys? That I just want to hang out with you and Millie?”

“Hey!” Yaz calls out, from where he returns to the painstaking task of building their Lego creation. “Am I invisible?”

“Alright…” Esme sighs; heavy and exaggerated. “I suppose I could hang out with you, too. If I have to.”

“You shouldn’t have come all the way out here by yourself. You should have texted me. I would have come and helped you.”

“I made it safe and sound. Mind you, I had to stop a dozen times along the way…”

He stares down at her pointedly.

“I’m fine,” Esme assures him. “I don’t feel nauseous or dizzy, and the pain is bearable. Way better than I expected to feel, actually. Now, I may need you to carry me when it’s time to head back…”

“I’ll just slip you in my pocket. Keep you safe and sound. Get you where you need to go.”

“Don’t start with that crap. Making fun of my height. Saying I’m pocket-sized. That’s rude.”

“I say it with love. And amazement. I’ve never seen a grown woman that never grew past the age of twelve.”

She scowls up at him.

“I’m going to call you that, you know. When we get married. Pocket wife.”

“You think so, do you?”

Running a hand over her hair, he drops a kiss on the top of her head. “I KNOW so.”

“Look, momma!” Millie scurries over, carrying an empty box longer than she is tall. “Look! Uncle Yazzie got it for me! It’s the Imperial Destroyer! Isn’t it cool? Do you know what movie it’s from?”

“That is very cool! And I do know where it’s from; those movies were around when I was a little girl. When did you get into Star Wars?”

“We watched the movies. Three days in a row! Daddy, me, and Uncle Yazzie.”

Esme cocks her head to the side as she grins up at Tyler. “You watched Star Wars?”

“Just the original three. You know, the only ones that matter.”

“When did YOU become a Star Wars fan?”

“I’ve always been one.”

“How come I never…”

“Hey, everyone has a secret or two. That they’re allowed to keep.”

“Well, if they’re as tame as liking Star Wars, I can live with it. I might call you a geek from time to time…”

“A geek that can kick total ass!” Millie declares. “Do you want to help us, momma? Put it together? We need all the help we can get. There’s A LOT of pieces.”

“You know what, if you give me a little bit of time to rest, I’ll definitely lend a hand. But I really need to sit and catch my breath, okay?”

“Do you want me to get you a drink? And a snack?”

“You know what? That sounds awesome. But only if you get a drink and a snack for yourself, okay?”

“Yep!” Rushing off, the four year old returns the box to the ‘lego building area’ before hurrying towards the house. Calling for the cook as she slides open the patio door and disappears inside)

“I should probably go in there,” Tyler says. “Help her. If she can’t find Carmen, I don’t want her going all Swedish Chef and burning Nik’s house down.”

“First Star Wars, now the Swedish Chef? You’re a Muppets fan, too?”

“That was the second secret I had.”

“You are just blowing my mind today. I lived with you for a YEAR and never knew ANY of this stuff How?”

“Some things I wasn’t ready to tell you. Guess I was worried you’d think I was a dag.”

“Dag meaning…”

“A geek.”

“You are a man of many, many, MANY layers, Tyler Rake. What else are you hiding?”

“That was the last of it.”

“A true enigma,” she declares, turning her face up towards him when he leans down for a kiss.

“You need my help? Getting you over there and settled?”

“I’m not a complete invalid, you know. It’s not even five feet.”

“Still…” Hand on her hip, he guides her closer to the table and pulls out a chair; using his free hand to keep a firm, protective grip on her bicep as she carefully lowers herself into the seat.. “Here…” Reaching for the hoodie and beach towel slung over a nearby chair, he drapes the garment across her shoulders and spreads the towel over her lap. Giving an almost sheepish grin when she looks up at him, lips curled in amusement. “It’s kinda chilly out. Pretty good breeze coming in off the water.”

“Tyler…”

“Esme…”

“You need to chill a bit, okay? I’m alright.”

“You know what whole worrying thing that you do? Incessantly?”

She nods.

“Must be contagious. ‘Cause I’ve done nothing but.”

“He was insufferable,” Yaz chides. “Not like that’s anything new for him, but…”

“Hey!” She grabs a hold of his hand as he turns to leave; raising to her face and pressing a kiss to his palm. “I love you.”

Standing behind her chair, he cups her chin in his palm, gently tilting her head back to press a kiss to the bridge of her nose, then her mouth. His lips a hair's breadth from hers when he returns the sentiment. “I love YOU.”

*****

Grimacing in discomfort, Esme stretches out her legs and places her bare feet in the empty chair across from her. Watching Yaz as he continues to put the Lego set together; his lips pursed and his furrowed in concentration. After minutes of silence, she uses her thumb and forefinger to flick one of the plastic bricks in his direction.

“You been keeping yourself out of trouble, young man?”

Smirking, he picks up the brick and snaps into it place, then drops into his chair. “What kind of fun would that be?”

“How come you didn’t go to Manila with Nik? It’s been years since she’s done a job without you.”

“She didn’t need me.”

“I find THAT hard to believe. You’re a jack of all trades. And while I know she’s a total badass who can more than handle herself, I also know how protective you are of her. And that you’d never let her go on ANY job alone. So…”

“Can you keep a secret?”

She tilts her head to the side. “Did I not just get finished with keeping the mother of all secrets? For almost FIVE years?”

“Touche.”

“Nik didn’t go there for work, did she?”

Yaz shakes his head.

“She found herself a new boy toy?”

“Not exactly.”

“Girl toy? She’s finally discovering the best of both worlds?”

“Not a girl, either. Sorry to disappoint you. Your raging crush on my sister will have to just stay just that.”

“So not a girl, not a boy. What…?”

“It’s a guy. Just not a boy. A man. An OLDER man.”

“How much older?”

“Quite a bit.”

“Quite a bit as in ten years? Fifteen…”

Yaz raises both brows.

“Twenty?”

“A little higher.”

“Thirty?”

“Minus five from that.”

“That’s just…” Esme grimaces. “...ewwww.”

“How do you think I feel? That’s my sister.”

“I don’t like the direction my mind is taking this in. I can understand her wanting to try her hand at guys her age or a little bit older, but someone old enough to be her father? Just…no.”

“If it makes it any better, he is a decent guy. I’ve met him a handful of times; he’s one of our biggest clients.”

“Weapons?”

Yaz nods.

“He a merc or…?”

“Runs his own business. A very lucrative one.”

“Are we talking gross and wrinkled old man? Or are we talking like Paul Newman level of hot old man? Because if it’s not the latter…”

“I’ll give him Paul Newman level.”

“Good for her. ‘Cause I would have hit old man Paul Newman in a heartbeat. Well, at least she’s not slumming. Because that last guy? The boy toy…”

“He was a complete tool.”

“That’s putting it lightly. I mean, he didn’t even appreciate her. He had this total goddess fawning all over him; giving him a fancy place to live, spoiling the shit out of him, paying all his bills, putting expensive clothes on his back. And what did he do? Cheat. The ungrateful fuck. He was nothing when she met him, and I bet he’s back to being nothing now.”

“We both warned her. That he was a piece of shit. And while I wouldn’t say ‘I told you so’ to her face…”

“She’d smack the ever-loving shit out of you.”

“...I can at least say it to you. It hasn’t been easy not having you around, you know. I got used to having someone on my side. Sticking up for me. Helping me talk the she-beast down from time to time.”

“Believe me, in hindsight, being around here would have been a lot better than where I ended up.”

“You mean with Alessio? Or Winston?”

“I think it’s safe to say that ‘both’ is an acceptable answer.”

“Speaking of ‘I told you so’....”

“Remember, I’m not completely feeble now, Yaz. I happen to have just enough strength to slap you upside the head. So tread lightly.”

“I DID tell you so. When Nik brought that job to you. I told her -right in front of you- that I didn’t have a good feeling about it. That things weren’t going to end well. And I tried talking you out of it; getting you to back off before you even got started. More than once. But did you listen…”

“You know I’m stubborn.”

“To a fault.”

“For what it’s worth, I do appreciate that you wanted to keep me safe; that you tried your best to stop me from getting caught up in all of that. But I couldn’t turn that job down. I couldn’t say ‘no’ to your sister. After everything she’s done over the past five years…”

“You don’t owe her anything. And she certainly doesn’t expect something from you.”

“It was a lot to ask. A huge secret for BOTH of you to keep. And the way you’ve continued to help take care of us and make sure we’re safe and sound and how you love Millie the way you do…”

“We’re family. That’s my niece. I don’t do the things I do because I expect something in return. And neither does Nik. That isn’t why she asked you if you wanted that job; she wasn’t preying on your guilt or your regret. She wanted the BEST. That’s it. And when it comes to what you do? The things you know? The things you can get away with? The best is YOU.”

“I felt like I DID owe you. BOTH of you. If it wasn’t for you and Nik keeping all my secrets…”

“We helped because we wanted to. Because you were scared and you were alone and you didn’t know who else to turn to. And maybe things got way out of hand and lasted way longer than they should have…”

“That’s the understatement of the century.”

“...but we don’t regret the decisions we made. And you don’t owe us a damn thing. So if that’s why you took that job…”

“I felt it was the least I could do. After everything that you guys do for us. All the things you STILL do. I…”

“Taking that job was a mistake. I told you it was. Before you even started it. That you had no business getting involved. Not with Millie in the picture.”

“I wouldn’t have taken it if I thought she’d get hurt. If I thought for a second she was in any danger…”

“Why wouldn’t you expect the worst? You knew who and what Alessio’s family were. The kind of things they were involved in. Those were the last people you should have gotten involved with. If you were alone, I wouldn’t have said a damn thing. I would have worried. But I wouldn’t have tried so hard to stop you. I just didn’t get it. Why you’d be so willing to drag Millie into this life.”

“Hasn’t she always been part of it? Right from conception? Hasn’t it always been in her blood? You do realize who her parents are, right? Who her father is?”

“But you stayed out of things. Or just helped from behind the scenes. She was never exposed to it. Not directly. Millie’s always been the one normal thing in all OUR lives. The only person that’s truly innocent in all of this. And we made sure to keep it that way; keep you and her safe and under the radar and…”

“I would never…EVER…do anything to hurt her. Or put her in danger. I had no idea things would go that bad. Not after months of everything going right. I…”

“The point is you never should have been involved in this person. There shouldn’t have been a chance for anything to go bad.”

Sighing heavily, she gnaws on the inside of her cheek, eyes in her lap as she considers his words.

“I’m not saying this to hurt you. Because I would never do that. Hurt you. And you know it.”

“I do. I DO know that.”

“Things could have been so much worse. And they were pretty fucking bad.”

“Oh, believe me, my body reminds me just how bad every day.”

“What if he hadn’t been able to get you out of there? What if Charon hadn’t helped out? If he’d taken Winston’s side?”

“But he didn’t.”

“He could have.”

“Isn’t playing the ‘what if’ game one of the major no-nos in this life? Isn’t it one of the things Nik preaches against? Doesn’t she always say that it only leads to trouble? Spending that much time inside your own head?”

“You can’t tell me you don’t think about it. How much worse things could have been.”

“I only think about it every day. Well, since I became lucid enough to form a coherent thought, anyway. I know how horrible things could have gone; had we not had the help that we did. But you know what? As bruised and busted up as I am, a lot of good things happened, too.”

Yaz stares at her pointedly,

“If things hadn’t gone wrong and I hadn’t gotten into trouble, I never would have had a reason to contact Tyler. It forced me to do the right thing. For both him and Millie. Because who knows how long I would have let it drag on. Before I finally did get up the guts to take her to him.”

“If it had gone on much longer, I would have told him. I would have taken one hell of an ass-kicking in the process, but…”

“Everything happens for a reason. I like to believe that, anyway. I had no choice BUT to call him. I knew he would do whatever it took to get Millie out of there. And to keep her safe. At that point, I didn’t care about me. All that mattered was her.”

“There was no way he was ever going to leave you behind. If he didn’t walk out the door when he realized you were the client, he sure as hell wasn’t going to sacrifice you. For anyone or anything.”

“If it was for her, I like to think he would.”

“Why would you even wish that on him? After everything he’s already gone through, why add that on top of it? The last five years haven’t exactly been kind to him, either. I know he puts on a good front…”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me? Just how bad he got? You always let on that he was doing okay. That he was keeping himself busy; he was firefighting and running his little business and doing the odd job for Nik. Why didn’t you just tell me the truth? That he was a wreck? Why…?”

“I thought you would have just realized it. That you leaving destroyed him. I didn’t think you needed to be told.”

“I never meant to hurt him. I didn’t do it intentionally. Ruin his life. And I know I should have contacted him sooner. About Millie. Believe me, there are A LOT of things I wish I could go back and change.”

“Had you never left, he never would have ended up in Georgia. He wouldn’t have taken that job. Not even for his ex wife.”

“I think you’re giving me too much credit. There’s no way he would have turned that job down. Even if I fought him tooth and nail about it. Mia knew exactly what she was doing; she knew that preying on his guilt and his regret would get him to do what she wanted.”

“She wanted the best. Just like you did.”

“She used him. She used his deepest and most painful secrets against him. To get what she wanted. And nothing I said would have made a difference. He would have taken that job regardless.”

“Millie would have been the difference. She was almost two. If you’d stuck around and the two of you went through it together? Having her? She would have made all the difference in the world. He wouldn’t have taken the chance. Of never getting home.”

“And then what would have happened? To the sister-in-law and the kids? If he hadn’t gone…”

“Mia would have had to find someone else.”

Esme sighs.

“There is no way he would have agreed to that job. Not if you were still in his life. And especially if Millie was. He wouldn’t have done that to her. To EITHER of you.”

“God, I really DID fuck up, didn’t I? In more ways than I ever realized.”

“There’s always a bigger picture.”

“If I’d stayed, the chances of us having Millie would have been slim to none. The High Table would have made sure of that. We wouldn’t have gotten through that. Had they come back and found us there and Tyler tried to put up a fight, they would have killed us. In the most gruesome ways possible. And he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to pay for something I did.”

“You don’t think he paid for them AFTER you left? That he didn’t pay for them for the last five years? I saw him at his worst. When he was barely hanging on. He spent an entire year looking for you. He turned down every job Nik offered him; he did nothing but travel the globe, trying to track you down. No matter how small the lead he was, he was going to check it out. And all that time, we knew where you were.”

“I never should have dragged you into it. I never…”

“We lied to him that entire time. We knew how you were doing, and where you were living. We knew about Millie. And we kept that from him. All that time.”

“Have you just been lying in wait for five years? To dump all of this on me? Just biding your time until I seemed ready to hear it?”

“Someone has to say it.”

“Oh trust me, Tyler hasn’t held back. He has said way more than you have. And not just once, either.”

“I’m not saying all of this to be an asshole. Or to hurt you. I know what you’ve been carrying around because of all this. I know it hasn’t been easy; not having him in the picture and raising Millie on your own. But I just feel for the guy, you know? He lost way more than you did. You at least HAD a part of him. You left him with NOTHING.”

“You don’t think I know all of this? That I haven’t been beating myself up since the day I left him? I don’t need you hating on me. I do enough of that for BOTH of us.”

“I’m not hating on you. I never could. I’m just saying things that need to be said. I feel bad for him, alright? Not just for you taking off and hiding out for the past five years. But for not even letting him know that you were okay. That’s the least I could have done.”

“I don’t know what it is you want from me. I’ve apologized. Over and over and over again. To you, to Nik, to Millie, to Tyler. I don’t know what more I can do. To get people to forgive me. Especially him.”

“Nik and I? We’re just as guilty for everything as you are. We could have stopped the bullshit. For his sake. But we didn’t And as far as Tyler goes? I don’t know, he doesn’t seem to be holding that big of a grudge. If he’s even holding one at all.”

“I hurt him. Badly. And not just once, either. The only person that’s ever loved me for ME. Who taught me that not all men hit and love isn’t supposed to hurt. And look what I did to him. How I repaid him. And if leaving wasn’t bad enough…”

“I think he might be further along in the ‘getting over it department’. He’s here, isn’t he? Stepping up to the plate. No matter how tired or how much he’s hurting. . He didn’t take off in New York; when he found out you were the client.”

“He very easily could have.”

“But he didn’t. He stuck around. Because it WAS you. Because he never got over you. He probably never would have. Not really. That guy held out hope for five years; that you’d just come walking back in as quickly as you walked out.”

“And I wanted to. Many, many, MANY times.”

“I know you were worried about rejection. That he’d turn you away. Not want anything to do with you or Millie. But there was never…EVER…a reason to worry about that. It wouldn’t have mattered what he was doing or who he was with, he would have dropped everything to be with you. It’s all he’s ever wanted. And then having a kid on top of that? That he didn’t know about? There’s no way he would ever turn all of that down.”

“He wanted to be a dad again. We used to talk about it every so often. I knew he was scared; he admitted he was worried about fucking things up. But he was willing to jump right into the deep end. No matter how terrified he was. He knew how much I wanted it; a chance to be a mom. And that I wanted that with HIM.”

“There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Even face his worst fears. I know he’s not invincible. No one is. But you sure as hell make him feel that way.”

She smiles wistfully. “Sometimes I think I even SEE him that way. That there’s nothing he can’t do. No one he can’t protect me from. He was the first person who ever made me feel safe. Protected. I didn’t even know I NEEDED to feel those things.”

“So what happened? Five years ago. What made you run? What…?”

“He wasn’t a hundred percent. He was still healing. From Dhaka. And he wouldn’t have stood a chance against The High Table. NO ONE stands a chance against them.” She glances away as she attempts to fight back a flood of threatening tears. “ Tyler would have fought for me. Until his very last breath. And they would have done horrible, horrible things to him. In front of me. They would have made me watch. And I couldn’t let that happen, Yaz. I couldn’t let him sacrifice himself for me. He’d already done it once. In Dhaka. I didn’t want there to be a second time. Not for a mistake I made.”

“There were other ways. Nik and I would have helped. We would have found a place; for the two of you to hide out while we took care of things.”

“I wasn’t exactly thinking rationally. I was terrified. That I’d lose him. Permanently. That they’d kill him. It would have been all my fault and I never would have been able to live with myself. The choice I made? I made it for him. Because I loved him. I wanted to keep him safe. And I didn’t know how else to do it.”

“He should have been given the chance. To help.”

“I couldn’t risk it. I just couldn’t. Everything I did that day, I did to protect him. I don’t regret the choice I made; sacrificing my happiness to make sure that he’d be okay. But believe me, I regret so many other things. So many other decisions I made. But I can’t take them back. I can never make it up to him. Not completely. I hurt the one person who made me feel human again. Who made me feel beautiful and wanted. Who made me realize I was worth something. To SOMEONE. And look what I did. Look how bad I hurt him. I can’t ever take that back.”

“That’s the unfortunate part of it. You can’t.”

“I don’t even know why he stuck around. When he found out I was the client. He had every reason to turn around and walk away. He didn’t know about Millie yet. Not at that point. Nothing was keeping him there. He didn’t know he was a dad.”

“YOU kept him there. That’s all he needed. It’s all he’s needed for five years. Did you honestly think he’d just turn around and walk away?”

“I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t know how he’d react. It had been five years. It could have gone either way, I guess. He could have still been really pissed or he could have been completely over it. Over ME.”

“He never got over you. I don’t think he ever would have.”

“I don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve HIM. Not after everything I’ve done. Yet here he is. Sticking around. Wanting a life with me. Why? After I hurt him so badly. Why would he still want that? Why would he still want ME?”

“He loves you. Simple as that. Does it need to be more than that? Isn’t that enough? He just LOVES you.”

“It’s enough. It’s more than enough, believe me. And it’s way more than I deserve.”

*****

Several minutes of silence pass before she speaks again; casting a glance over her shoulder, towards the house.

“How has he been? Since we got here??”

“He’s been hurtin’. Got himself pretty banged up in that accident. Wouldn’t let the doctor take a look at him, though.”

“Tyler not taking care of himself? Being stubborn as hell? Colour me surprised.”

“He’s been hanging in there though. Pushing himself through it. He’s been worried, though. About you. Can’t say I blame him. We’ve all been worried.”

“I don’t remember much. Just bits and pieces. But I know that every time I woke up, no matter how out of it I was, he was there. Ready, willing, and able to take care of me.”

“He didn’t leave your side much during the first few days. And didn’t trust many people with you. Not even the doctor and nurse were off his radar.”

“He’s always been a little…protective.”

“Just a bit.”

“What about Millie? I kind of threw them both to the wolves. Just dropped them right into the deep end without even a warning. Has she been alright? With him?”

“Are you kidding me? That kid is in her glory. They BOTH are. I mean, she’s finally got a dad. And not just any dad, HER dad. Her flesh and blood. And man, when I tell you she’s just like him…”

“Kinda scary, isn’t it? How much of him is in there? As if looking just like him isn’t enough, some of that personality just had to trickle down, too.”

“Some of it? There’s a lot of Tyler in her. And I’m still trying to figure out if that’s good or bad.”

“I like to think she got the best parts of both of us. Especially those parts of him that he doesn’t let everyone see. But, honestly, the mouth on her…”

“She’s definitely her father’s child.”

“Momma!” Millie’s bare feet slap against smooth stone as she races towards her, one of her plastic sand pails clasped tightly in both hands. Usually reserved for rock and seashell hunting on the beach, it now carries water and a selection of flowers. Vivid purple orchids, snow-white tulips, and brilliant orange roses. “Look it! Look what we got!”

“Oh my goodness…” Accepting the ‘gift’ from her daughter, she slides over in the chair, making room for the four-year-old to squeeze in beside her. Sheer pride and unbridled happiness glow in Millie’s eyes as she wraps both arms around her mom’s torso; beaming up at her as she rests her head on Esme’s chest. “...for me?”

“Just for you. Daddy helped me pick them.”

“All my favourites! They’re beautiful. I bet I can guess where you got these from. Auntie Nik’s front garden, right?”

Millie gives a sheepish smile, then giggles into her mother’s breast.

“I won’t tell her if you won’t. Thank you…” Wincing slightly as she leans forward to place the pail on the table, she takes Millie’s face in her hands; pressing kisses to her cheeks and lips. “....I love them. But not nearly as much as I love you.”

“I love you, mommy. I’m sorry I was mean. In New York City. That I said bad things to you. I was just upset.”

“I know you were. And you had every right to be. Your entire world was just turned right upside down, wasn’t it?”

Millie nods.

“But I love you. More than you could ever possibly know. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, other than your dad of course.”

“I’m going to ignore how casually you said that,” Tyler says ss he sets a tray of food and drinks on the table. “How big of a smart ass you sounded.”

“You love daddy.” Millie declares. “Don’tcha”

“I do. I love him very, very much. I always have. And now things are going exactly the way they should. I’m feeling better, in a few days we’ll be on our way to Australia and our new life.”

“And living in our new home. Our FOREVER home.”

“Exactly. And you’re going to love it there. I think it’s exactly where you’re meant to be. The perfect place for someone like you. All that sunshine and all that water and all those animals. Not to mention it’s in your blood; being an Aussie. Well, in HALF of it anyway.”

“And then I’ll get to go to school and meet new friends! And you and daddy will get married and have lots of babies!”

“Okay, slow your row. We’re not even home yet. And besides, I never said anything about LOTS.”

“Are you going to come, Uncle Yazzie?” Millie inquires as she tends to helping unload the various dishes from the tray. Carefully setting a mug of tea, a plate of cheese toast, and a bowl of fruit salad in front of her mom. “When mom and dad get married?”

“I hope I’m invited.”

“I get to wear a really pretty dress! Momma said I can pick it out! And I get to wear my Spiderman sandals too!”

“Because you’re not Millie if you didn’t.” Esme drops a kiss on the top of her head. “And you know what? We’ll even get you a brand-new pair. Just so you can wear them with your dress.”

“And then you and daddy will get married and start having babies and…”

“What is your obsession with me having babies?”

“I REALLY want to be a big sister. It’s just been me all this time! I want a brother or a sister. Mostly a sister. So we can do things together. We can play dolls and ride bikes and go to the beach and do each other’s hair and nails and…”

“You do realize that even IF I had a baby right away, you’d be five years older, right? By the time they’re old enough to do those things, you’re probably not going to want anything to do with them. They’ll be too young for you to want to hang out with.”

“I’ll still want to hang with them. They’re my sister. Sisters are supposed to do things together.”

“And what if you get a brother?”

“Well, I won’t be happy about it, but I’ll deal, I guess.”

“And probably beat on them. And torment them.”

“Maybe just a bit. Here, mom…” Sliding the plate of cheese toast over, she selects a piece. Blowing a steady stream of air onto it to cool it down, then holding it up to Esme’s lips.. “...eat.”

“I am perfectly capable of feeding myself, baby girl. I appreciate you wanting to help, but…”

“Daddy said that it’s up to us to take care of you. Until you’re all better. He said that we’re a team; we work together to keep an eye on you and help you out. And that’s what I’m doing.”

“Whether I like it or not, huh?”

“Exactly!”

“Geez…” Esme grins at Tyler as he drops into the chair beside her, playfully nudging him with her elbow before briefly laying her head on his shoulder. “...I wonder where she gets THAT from.”

She wakes to a storm raging outside the window; lightning splitting the sky as thunder rumbles, wind rattles the windows, and rain patters against the glass. Sighing loudly, she rolls from her side to her back; any discomfort kept at bay the medication taken shortly before she’d settled in for the night. Eyes squinting into the darkness, she finds herself greeted by the glow of Millie’s iPad as it rests on Tyler’s thigh as he sits beside her; headphones on, eyes riveted on the screen. So invested that he doesn’t react when she gingerly sits up and slides closer to him; not acknowledging her until she moves the headphone off his right ear and places a kiss on his temple, then his cheek. Nuzzling it with the tip of her nose.

“Hey.”

Removing the headset, he presses pause on the iPad and turns it screen down. Giving her that soft, loving smile that creases his eyes and fills out his cheeks. “Hey.”

Laying a hand on his stomach, she presses a series of kisses along the line of his jaw, then rests her head on his shoulder. “What are you doing up?”

“I was just going to ask you the same thing.”

“I had a really weird dream.”

“Weird as in bad or…?”

“Weird as in weird. It was about The Kimberley. Being back in that old shack of yours. Millie was there too; she was just a tiny baby and she was wearing this cute little bubblegum pink onesie. You were carrying her around and telling her all about the koalas and kangaroos and big spiders. And all about the ocean; about swimming and surfing and how the shark spotters call people out of the water.”

“Gotta start ‘em young.”

“It would have been hard. Raising a kid there. In the middle of nowhere.”

“Well, that was never the plan. We would have already been in Broome. When she was born.”

“We should take her there. To the old place. Let her see how things were before she was even a twinkle in my eye. I highly doubt it’s liveable now, so we couldn’t stay there, but…”

“I still own it though. We could always fix it up. Add onto it. Make it a place we can just take off to. When we just need to get away from the city.”

“The city.” Esme laughs. “Broome is hardly a city.”

“Not by your standards, maybe. Miss ‘studio apartment in Brooklyn, New York’.”

“I think she’s going to love it there. In Australia. She is HALF Aussie, after all.”

“The best half of her is, at least.”

“The best half,” she scoffs, then reaches up to flick the tip of his nose with her thumb and forefinger. “You wish! More like the half that’s an enormously stubborn pain in my ass.”

“You know you love me. That you’d be completely miserable without me.”

“I do love you.” She speaks between kisses to the underside of his chin. “Very, very, very much. And believe me, I WAS completely miserable without you. I don’t want to ever do that again. Be away from you that long.”

“Well lucky for you, I don’t plan on going anywhere.”

“I might become really, really, REALLY clingy, you know. At least for a little while.”

“I can handle clingy. Especially when it has an ass like yours.”

“And needy. Extremely needy. And demanding. CRAZY demanding.”

“Are we talking in the dirty sense or…”

“As dirty as we can get, baby.”

“Then I can DEFINITELY do crazy and demanding. Figuratively and literally.”

“Look at you. Busting out the big words. Pretty impressive for a big, bad, mercenary man.”

Grinning, he gently and playfully tousles her messy hair. “And you say I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Why ARE you awake? I thought you’d be exhausted. I heard through the grapevine that Millie’s been keeping you on your toes. Wearing you out in your old age.”

“First you call me fat, now you’re calling me old. What’s next?”

“Impotent?”

“Don’t even put that out into the universe. That’s not right.”

“Considering you’re a horny high schooler trapped in the body of a forty-year-old man, I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem like THAT. Seriously though, aren’t you tired? I know what a handful she can be. She’s so much like you. Can’t sit still for too long, always wants to try new things, isn’t scared of a damn thing…”

“I’m scared of a lot, believe me. I learned just how scared I could be. Seeing you in that SUV. Thinking you were dead. Of all the things I’ve been through, the things I’ve survived, the people I’ve gone against? Nothing was as bad as that. I’ve never been that afraid of anything, but at the moment…” He takes a deep, quivering breath.. “...let’s just say I don’t ever want to go through anything like that ever again.”

“I promise I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. Once we’re home, that part of me is gone. I get to start a whole new life. With you and Millie. The only two people that really matter.”

“You think you’re going to be happy? Being a good little housewife? Staying home and raising kids?”

“After everything I’ve gone through in the last ten years, I’m going to be ECSTATIC to live like that. Think you’re going to be alright with you? Doing normal things? Having a normal job? A wife and a kid?”

“I was alright with it five years ago, yeah? Why wouldn’t I be okay with it now?”

“Baby…” She presses a handful of kisses on the side of his neck. “...you always have the best answers. You may be a man of few words, but when you DO talk…”

“I had to learn, didn’t I? When we started living together? To watch the shit I say? And how I say it? I wasn’t used to that; worrying about someone else’s feelings.”

“You learned pretty quick, though. Mostly because I’m a mouthy bitch who doesn’t hesitate when it comes to putting you in your place.”

“Small but mighty. The only person on this earth I’m legitimately terrified of. Even if I can pick you up and carry you around in my pocket.”

Rolling her eyes, she playfully pinches his stomach, head on his chest as she drums her fingernails on the iPad. “So what were you watching?”

“Nothing important.”

“It wasn’t porn, was it? The least you could do is save that kind of stuff for when I’m healed a little more. So we can watch it together. And let things…you know…progress from there. Nudge, nudge, wink, wink.”

“You are a dirty girl, Esme.”

“In the ways you love best.”

“And no, I wasn’t watching porn.”

“Good, because…”

“I watched that earlier.”

“Oh God,” she groans and attempts to move away. Laughing when he lightly tickles and pinches her side and then pulls her into him, tucking her body tightly and protectively against his, hand coming to rest on her hip.

“I wasn’t watching porn. Not now, not earlier. I was watching other stuff.”

“Stuff, huh? What kind of stuff?” Reaching for the iPad, she scowls when he lays his palm on top of it, preventing her from flipping the device over. “What’s your issue?”

“What’s yours?”

“I just want to know what you were watching. Why is it such a secret? Why are you hiding things from me?”

“It’s not a secret. And I’m not hiding anything.”

“Then why won't you tell me what it is? Don’t be so sketchy.”

“I’m not being anything. I was just watching some stuff. On youtube. It’s not a big deal.”

“If it’s not a big deal, you’d tell me what was. Surfing videos? Football highlights?”

“No. And no. Like I said, just…stuff.”

“You’re being very weird about this. Unless…” Her eyes narrow. “...you weren’t really watching anything. You were chatting and sexting and sending someone dirty pictures. Or they were sending YOU pics.”

“That’s exactly it. You figured it out. I was totally sexting with someone. Sending dick pics.”

She frowns.

“Are you kidding me right now? Do you honestly believe that? I just spent five years wondering where the hell you were and if you’d just show up on my doorstep one day. Do you honestly think I’m going to fuck this all up? When things are finally going the way they should have way back when? I know I’m not the smartest guy on the planet, but give me SOME credit.”

“I have never said you were stupid. Or even insinuated it. But to be this secretive over videos you’re watching on YouTube…”

“I just don’t want you to make a big deal out of it.”

“Christ, how bad are these videos?”

“They’re not bad at all. They’re just…I don’t know…kinda lame, I guess. I just don’t want you laughing at me. That happens, I might have to kill you.”

“I’d like to see you try. I’ve got nine lives, Tae. And I haven’t even used up half yet. But if you’re THIS embarrassed about whatever you were doing, keep your secrets. That’s three in one day, you know. Stars Wars, The Muppet Show, sketchy videos on the internet.

“They’re not sketchy. They’re just not what you’d expect. Can’t a guy browse the ‘net in peace?”

“How do I know you’re not googling the easiest ways to kill me and dispose of my body?”

“Because that would be a waste of time. I already know those things.”

Esme scowls.

“Fine. If you wanna see, I’ll show you. But I swear, if you make even one small smart-ass remark…”

“Get a grip. I’m not going to laugh at you or make fun of you.” Turning the iPad over, she presses play; watching for several seconds before pausing it and glancing up at him. Brows arched quizzically. “A hair braiding tutorial? Why…?”

“I’m doing it for Millie.”

“She told you to watch it or…?”

“The first night here, she told me how you always braid her hair before bed. Because of how knotty it gets when she sleeps I didn’t know how to do it. And I’ve been so caught up with other things, I haven’t had the chance to get her to teach me. And you weren’t able to do it, so I just pawned her off on Nik.”

“I could have taught you. It’s honestly not that hard. Even Millie would have taught you. She was three when she learned how to do it on her Barbie dolls.”

“I just figured I’d look it up and learn on my own. I mean, I’m a girl dad now. I should know how to do these things.”

As a slow smile spreads across her face, she reaches up to playfully tug at some of the wiry hair on the underside of his chin. “Baby, you are so cute.”

Tyler frowns. “Shut up.”

“Despite what you think, being called ‘cute’ is NOT an insult.”

“To me it is.”

“Well, to ME, you’re a six foot three, two hundred and twenty-pound ball of walking cuteness.”

“Esme, fuck off.”

“Would it make you feel better if I said that it’s sexy? Watching you embrace the whole girl-dad lifestyle? Seeing you playing with her and drawing pictures and colouring. You even watch Bluey with her. That takes some real courage and balls, you know. To sit through that show.”

“I suppose being called sexy for doing all that stuff IS better. Somewhat.”

“Well, I find it incredibly sexy. You in ‘dad mode’. It’s even better than I ever daydreamed about. And that’s saying something because those daydreams were pretty damn good.”

“I just want to do right by her. Not fucks things up a second time.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re off to a really good start. From what I’ve heard AND seen.”

“Scary as hell, though. Not gonna lie.”

“Do you want to tell me what’s so unsettling? What’s scaring you so much? Is it because you’re worried about things going wrong? Like they did with Austin? Are you worried about making a mistake or making bad choices or…?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what it is. I’m just…terrified. Maybe there’s not even a reason. Or a sound one, anyway. Maybe it’s just all in my head.”

“In all fairness, you’ve had a lot dropped on you in the past week and a half. Enough shit to last most people a lifetime. Maybe it’s all just coming to a head, you know? Having that all put in your lap at once. Seeing me again, finding out about Millie, us trying to put things together and work through our shit. Well, MY shit. All of this messiness IS my fault.”

“It’s a lot. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t. But it’s not as messy as you think. Trust me, I know messy. I AM messy.”

“A hot messy, though,” she teases. “VERY hot, actually.”

“God your taste in men is fucked up.”

“Hey, it WAS. If you saw my ex-husband, you’d realize what a huge step up you are.”

“Have you ever thought of seeing a therapist? For your horrible life choices? Because if this is the type of men you’re attracted to…”

“You’re not as messy as you think you are. I wouldn’t be with you if you were. Do you honestly think I would have hooked up with you in Dhaka if you were THAT bad?”

“If you were desperate enough.”

“Listen, buddy, I’d already gone eighteen months without a hook-up. And had you not come along, I would have gone even longer. If being with Mark taught me anything, it was to be more discerning when it came to men. Do you really think I didn’t have any options? Between you and him?”

“I don’t even want to consider that. The thought of you with other people…”

“The point I’m trying to make is that you’re not nearly as messy as you think you are. I’d already been one with one extremely messy man, I sure as hell wasn’t going to hook up with another one. Look…” Removing the tablet from his lap, she gingerly moves onto her knees; his hands immediately securing her by the hips as she carefully straddles his thighs. Using gentle fingertips, she clears the longer strands of hair off his forehead before cradling his face in her hands. “...I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re scared of. I’m not even going to try and guess. Or put words in your mouth. And I know when you figure it out yourself and are ready to tell me, you will.”

“I wouldn’t keep that from you. You’re the only person who knows everything about me. Even all the ugliest, darkest of things.”

“You know what I DO know, though? I know that Millie loves you. And trusts you. That was obvious before she even found out you were her daddy. Right from day one you made her feel safe and important. She loved you for YOU. Not just because you helped make her. That just makes everything she feels even bigger and stronger. You see that, right? How much she loves you? Trusts you?”

Tyler nods. “Reminds me of you.”

“Look how messed up we both were when we met. Look at all the baggage we were carrying around. It shouldn’t have worked; two broken people barely staying afloat yet somehow trying to find something…anything…between them. Remember what Gaspar said? About how two broken people can’t fix one another? They can’t come together to be a whole? That they’d only make each other worse? Destroy one another?”

“Fuck him. He had no clue what he was talking about.”

“Exactly. Fuck him. Fuck anyone that thought that everything was wrong between us and that nothing could be right. It wasn’t the ideal situation. We agree on that. But I don’t regret it happened. Or why, how, or where. Do you?”

“I’ve never regretted it. Not even when you took off. I’ve never regretted you. Us.”

“I knew who you were. I know what you did for a living. Even before we met, I’d heard all the stories. About the people you’d gone against, about your kill sheet. I was in that life, too. I was part of it. And then you filled in all those blanks; told me your deepest and darkest secrets and regrets and everything that tried to break you but didn’t. There were other things, too. You LET me see you. The real you. Outside of that life. Yeah, you were messy. But I still fell in love with you. Just like Millie did. As soon as she heard your mint chocolate chip was also your favourite ice cream, that was it for her. That’s all she needed.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“She LOVES you. And she loves LIKE you. With everything she has. She’s a little girl, but she has a massive heart. You’ve seen it yourself. How fiercely and deeply she loves.”

“I have. Especially when it comes to her mum.”

“I’m sorry I kept her from you. I wish she could have loved you from the very start. But she has a long life ahead of her. And so do you. That’s a lot of time with her, Tyler. And she’s already attached to your hip. She’s already a daddy’s girl. Imagine what she’ll be like in a few weeks or months. Years. If you think she’s clingy now….”

“She can be as clingy as she wants. That’s my baby. My little girl.”

“I never doubted your abilities as a father. Not for a second. You were a great dad to Austin. You made some mistakes; you weren’t around as often as you should have been, sometimes you chose the military over your family, and you left him when he needed you the most. But…”

“How can there be a ‘but’? How…?”

“He loved you. With everything he had. You were his hero. He didn’t die hating you. Or thinking you hated him. He died knowing you loved him. Thinking you were brave and strong And you need to try and remember that.”

“Have you been talking to my ex-wife? Don’t tell me you’ve been friends with her all this time, too.”

“I’ve never met her. I don’t think I ever want to. That’s just…I don’t know…awkward for me. But I know what she’s told Alcott. When I sent him fishing for information. I kept an eye on you. In the only way I knew how.”

“You spied on me, you mean.”

“I was worried about you. I may have walked out, but I didn’t stop caring. I didn’t stop loving you. And I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. That you weren’t unnecessarily putting yourself at risk. I just wanted to know you were alright.”

“I was far from alright. Regardless of what people told you.”

“But you didn’t let them see that, did you? I know you, Tyler. Better than you know yourself. I’m the person that you ‘let in’. That you showed every part of yourself, too. And I know how quickly you can turn it all off. For the sake of the job. For self-perseverance.”

“I can’t do it anymore. Or at least I couldn’t do it in New York. Turn it off.”

“You did everything right in New York. You were handling both sides of things. You knew exactly what I needed WHEN I needed it; job Tyler or normal Tyler. Nothing that happened in New York was your fault. Things go wrong. You know that.”

“Seeing you like that, thinking you were dead…”

“But I’m here, right? You made sure of it. A little worse for wear, but I AM here.”

“So this what it’s like when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh? Guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine. Everything you went through…everything you did for me…after Dhaka.”

“I did it because I wanted to. Because I was already in love with you. You, you got your absolution. You deserved to live. But I had my reasons for what I did, Purely selfish ones. I liked being with you. I liked how you looked at me. How you made me feel. It was like you thought I was the most beautiful thing in the world.”

“I did think that. I still do.”

“And I wanted more of that. I still do. I’ve always wanted you. A life with you. And I’m sorry things didn’t go the way we planned. But now we can make new ones. Have new dreams. And the best part is that Millie exists. She’s here. We get to do all of that WITH her.”

“She’s amazing, Me. I don’t know what I ever did deserve her, but it must have been pretty damn good.”

“You loved her mother. Even on those days when she couldn’t love herself. ESPECIALLY on those days.”

“Falling in love with you was the smartest thing I’ve ever done. And the scariest.”

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Knowing we proved Gaspar wrong. We DID make each other better.”

“We still do.”

“Think we can keep it up?” She trails the pad of her thumb along his lips. “For…I don’t know…the next forty, fifty years?”

“Yeah…” Smiling, he combs his fingers through her hair; settling his palm on the nape of her neck and gently pulling her into a kiss. “...I think we can.”

#Tyler and Esme series #Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fanfic #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction #Extraction 2 #Extraction fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Chris Hemsworth #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

In a Heartbeat: Chapter Two

FANDOM: EXTRACTION

PAIRING: TYLER RAKE AND ESME DRUMMOND (ESTABLISHED OFC)

WARNINGS: angst. Big time angst.

SUMMARY:  Dhaka nearly ended everything before it even began.  In it’s aftermath and with Tyler’s life teetering on the threshold between life and death, Esme is about to realize just how strong she can be.  And that love happens when it happens. There’s no rules. No rhyme or reason. No timeline.  

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48691714/chapters/125445052

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @munstysmind @karimac @kmc1989 @thebewingedjewelcat @ninjasawakenedmystar @residentdormouse @asirensrage @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @themaradwrites @occommunity @timbradfordsboot

My tag list is OPEN. Please let me know if you'd like to be added :)

******

Chapter Text

“Nik found us a little place,” Esme announces, as she tends to his beard; using a pocket comb to make her way through the wiry hair. “In Austria. Just on the outskirts of Gmunden. It looks really pretty; it’s right on the edge of a lake and it’s surrounded by trees and you can look out at the mountains.”

Reaching for a pair of cuticle scissors that rest on his chest, she chews on her bottom lip as she focuses on snipping the wiry hair. The gray is more noticeable now that his beard is longer and thicker, and she momentarily pauses her work and carefully studies his face and hair; enjoying how the strands of silver sparkle in the sunlight that streams into the room. They’re a sign of wisdom and experience; testaments to life often lived on the edge that take up residence at his temples, the nape of his neck, and throughout the wild top tresses.

“You know…” She uses the comb to sweep his bangs off his forehead and away from his eyes. “…I’m really digging this older guy vibe you’ve got going on. It’s kinda sexy; all the gray hair you’ve sprouted over the past five months. Once you hit fifty? You are going to be one hell of a hot silver fox. I’m going to have to beat the women off with a stick. And probably a few men.”

Returning to the task at hand, she carefully trims the hair above his top lip; mindful of the combination of breathing and feeding tubes that have been keeping him alive and nourished. When it became apparent that she was going to continue to ‘stand off’ against them, the doctors had -albeit reluctantly- switched their course of care; ordering the nurses to teach Esme the basics in case they’re ever short-staffed and other patients need to be of higher priority. She knows their excuses are bullshit; that they’re simply tired of her constant presence and her refusal to spare them the work of looking after someone they’ve already written off as a loss. And she’s also aware that they’re just biding their time until legal paperwork is drawn up and processed; licking their lips in anticipation of when they can serve her with a court order to have him removed from the machines.

Yet their pressure -both passive and actively aggressive- doesn’t sway her. Despite being both physically and mentally exhausted, she is staying the course; digging her heels in even deeper and willingly and readily accepting any ‘task’ they want to assign her.

“I am NOT very good at this,” Esme laments, as she returns to trimming his beard. “I am definitely not cut out to be a hair stylist, that’s for sure. You know what we’re going to do as soon as you’re out of here? Get you to a good barber. Because you’re starting to look homeless and unloved and I don’t need some bleeding heart picking you up off the street like you’re a stray.”

She hums as she works; upbeat show tunes and Beatles medleys that help keep her spirits up. They’ve been waning lately; the darkness she’d successfully fought off for so long now a near-constant presence. In two weeks it will be six months since he was declared ‘clinically dead’ and placed on the respirator. Half a year since she’d last seen him open his eyes and heard his voice; vividly able to recall those last few minutes that they’d spent together in Dhaka. Tucked away in that litter-strewn alley as dawn broke around them, unabashedly crying when he broke the news that he was going to send her off with Saju and Ovi. There was a better chance she’d make it there -and successfully get across the bridge- if they split up; he’d act as a decoy by creating chaos within the heart of town and drawing the enormous police and military presence away from the checkpoints. He’d admitted he wouldn’t be able to focus if she was with him; afraid he’d become so obsessed with her safety and well-being that he’d make simple, stupid mistakes. And in turn, cause BOTH of their demises.

On her part, there’d been anger. Confusion. Heartache. She’d initially lashed out at him and accused him of lying to her over the course of the last five days; none of the softer and adoring words had been true, and neither had been the hopes for a future or their plans to travel together. And when she’d seen the hurt that darkened his eyes and furrowed his brow and tensed his shoulders, she had changed her tactic; begging and pleading with him to change his mind. She’d be able to handle herself. Promising that she’d stick tight to him and wouldn’t be a burden or a distraction; he’d be able to focus on the job at hand. After all, he was the first person that had ever made her feel safe and secure. Protected. And it absolutely terrified her to have that suddenly snatched away.

It had felt like hours had passed since their initial goodbye; still feeling the callouses on his skin as he gently cradled her cheek in his palm, her lips still tingling from that long, shockingly tender kiss. And those words…spoken just before they parted…still echoing in her ears.

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

It was the second time he’d said it. In less than thirty-six hours. Just that very morning he’d unexpectedly dropped it upon; a genuinely tender and hopeful moment as they parted ways at the extraction point. The drive there had been spent in silence; Tyler making the quick and effortless transition from the soft-spoken and attentive man she’d been intimate and shared secrets with to ruthless and calculated mercenary.

Yet it hadn’t frightened her. His mere presence and his smell and the glances and reassuring smiles he’d cast in her direction made sure of that. He may have become ‘all business’, but the other Tyler was just lingering just at the surface; the one that had shared his deepest and darkest confessions with her and who’d cried when talking about his son and his fight with cancer and the horrible decision he’d made prior to his death. And who’d shown every end of the sexual spectrum during their times behind closed doors; rough and aggressive and domineering one moment, slow and tender and worshipping the next.

She had never met anyone like him. In more ways than one.

And it was right before she began her trek through the forest and towards the river when it became abundantly clear that every kiss they’d shared, every secret spilled, every tear they’d shed, had all been real. He had meant the words he’d said; the excitement he’d shown at the idea of travelling together and of even seeing her birthplace and meeting her family. And the optimism he’d shown when talking about the possibility of a future…a REAL future…together.

Although a simple moment, it had seemed so deeply personal and intimate; the way he’d pulled that bulletproof vest over her head and made sure it was tightly and securely fastened. Already so protective; forgetting about her own background in the military and her years spent on the job in his quest and desire to keep her safe and sound. No one had ever made her feel that way before; nurturing and adoring and caring instead of being indifferent or malicious in both their words and their actions.

While Mark and all his cruel words and taunts, beatings and sexual assaults had stripped her of every ounce of trust in men, it had taken Tyler less than a week to restore not only her faith in others, but the most primal of needs and urges. Sex had never been a priority; it’s hard to find yourself THAT attracted to someone when you’d spent years having the most basic and most vile and degrading acts forced upon you. But with Tyler, it had been near instantaneous. An attraction that she’d felt the moment of their introduction in the outback; when one of those enormous, calloused and scarred hands had practically swallowed one of her own. The stories alone should have left her intimidated; the scores of incredibly dangerous missions he’d been involved in and the trails of blood and rotting corpses he left behind.

It was his eyes. Brilliant yet soulful blue; a humanity and a tenderness that he kept buried just under the surface. He wasn’t as broken or as soulless as he perceived himself to be; not truly the empty shell that he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror. He hadn’t turned to stone despite the hardships of the life he’d been living; instead his grief, guilt, and heartache so enormous and overwhelming that they left him numb and jaded to anything beyond his four walls. His addictions were proof that he was still very much alive; a troubled, lonely, touch-starved man that sought out unhealthy ways to ease both his physical and mental suffering.

She’d been privy to those sides he’d long buried. In the same way she had so blindly and wholly trusted him, he had done the same with her. Speaking openly and honestly about his son and the cancer that had not only robbed him of his life, but his father’s comforting and loving presence in those final moments. He spoke about his alcoholism and his addiction to pain meds; how he’d tried to stop on many occasions but found the suffering just too difficult to bear. And he confessed to the death wish he’d been carrying around since he’d abandoned his child; not really wanting a sniper’s bullet to cut him down in the middle of the job, but wholeheartedly believing he deserved it.

While he’d wanted to change and continued to desperately cling to any semblance of life, he didn’t quite know how to tackle his demons or fix the issues that surrounded him. He’d never been taught healthy coping mechanisms; not allowed to mourn the loss of his mother or to even show some glimmer of emotion during her funeral or those long days and nights of grieving that followed. It was a sign of weakness, after all. A real man didn’t react from the heart, let alone speak from it. And his father would simply not allow a ‘fragile and pathetic’ man to live under his roof.

And then one day, after years of beatings and cruelty, that abused and tormented child transformed into a deeply troubled man. Saddled with decades of trauma and toxic masculinity that his father had so viciously beat into him.

“I’ll see you when I see you.”

He’d spoken those words after making sure every piece of velcro on her vest was attached ‘just right’, then grabbed hold of the shoulder straps and pulled her into a kiss. It had been long and languid and heartbreakingly tender; nowhere near as intense and hungry and desperate as those they’d shared over the course of five days, but incredible in its own right. A kiss that held so much promise and a tinge of worry. A potent mixture of hope, optimism, and fear. The best-case scenario would be that the job went according to plan; he’d successfully rescue Ovi and return to the extraction point in less than two hours’ time. Unscathed. After that they’d be free; they’d get to safety, collect their money, and make good on all the plans they’d made. The worst-case scenario was the mission being an epic failure. And their parting words -ones made with the best intentions- would turn out to be a permanent goodbye.

********

It feels like a lifetime ago. Mahajan’s double-crossing, the brutal and untimely deaths of their team members, Saju’s relentless hunt in a desperate bid to save his own family. So many things had gone wrong in such a short period of time; a struggle to survive in litter-strewn alleys and sewers filled with feces, garbage, and rats. They hadn’t had a chance to relax; unable to catch their breath before the next disaster came charging full speed ahead. And it was out of desperation that Tyler had played the one card he still had up his sleeve; someone he’d known for years and had always been able to trust. After all, he’d saved the man’s life on more than one occasion. If that wasn’t deserving of even the tiniest bit of help, what was?

Neither could have known - as they lay in a mess of tangled sheets and naked limbs in the bed of Gaspar’s guest room, that the worst was yet to come. Holding onto a semblance of hope that they’d walked through the fires of hell and somehow lived to tell about it. Believing they’d simply lie low for a couple of days and then be on their way; wait for the pandemonium to settle and then move about somewhat freely and easily.

Only friends are sometimes your worst enemies. Gaspar’s allegiance with Asif and his subsequent betrayal had led to disaster; an attempt to kill Tyler in order to get his hands on her and Ovi and the ten million dollar ‘prize’ that he’d be rewarded with. And in the end, it had been the fifteen-year-old that had pulled the trigger; saving all of their lives yet setting the stage for what would be the most difficult hour of their entire lives.

Crossing the bridge.

It’s still so vivid. The wails of the injured and the dying. The smell of fire, gunpowder and spilt gasoline. The pollution wafting off the filthy water. The blistering sun and the suffocating humidity. The taste of her own sweat as it dripped from her nose and gathered along her top lip. And the blood. So much blood. Covering her hands and staining her clothes. The scent of copper as it hung heavily in the air. And the fear and panic in Tyler’s eyes as he straddled the threshold between life and death. His body impossibly heavy as it lay across her lap; his battered and bloodied hands desperately clutching the front of her shirt as he gasped for breath.

She briefly closes her eyes; pushing back the flood of tears and the painful, traumatic memories. Still unable to think about those moments before help had finally arrived; how minutes had seemed hours as she sat -a filthy, sobbing, terrified mess- with her fingers shoved in the bullet wound in order to staunch his heavy bleeding. Wondering if perhaps her efforts would be all for nothing; Asif’s remaining men making their way to the bridge and discovering them there. Alive Tyler would immediately be killed; they would have made sure she watched as they put a bullet -or several- into his already beaten and broken body. Her fate would have been so much worse; likely kept captive -for days, weeks, even MONTHS- and abused in every possible way. All she would have been able to do was suffer through it; unable to fight back against the strength and the power -and the amount- of her attackers. She’d never been a praying person; she didn’t necessarily believe or not believe when it came to a higher power. But during moments of solitude, she would have begged and pleaded to anyone…anything…to permanently end her torment.

Gathering her composure, she shoves all thoughts of Dhaka aside and returns to the task at hand; slowly and carefully trimming his beard, mindful of the hairs that crowd close to the ventilation and feeding tubes. She misses his face; the one that wasn’t taken over by life-saving measures. It’s been so long since she’s seen it; whether it be that slow, boyish smile or that sly, almost mischievous smirk or the intensity that narrows his eyes and furrows his brow. And his eyes; a brilliant, captivating blue that can quickly transform to dark and stormy. She’d been privy to so many things during those five days in Dhaka; body language and facial expressions and sides to him that he’d never allowed anyone else to see.

And she’s not ready to give any one of them up.

“So about this place. In Austria…” She moves to the bedside table and opens the top drawer; placing the comb and scissors inside and then picking up a pair of nail clippers. “…I think it’s perfect for us. It’s in the middle of nowhere; surrounded by trees and mountains and it’s right on the water. It’s got two bedrooms and one and a half baths and the cutest open-concept living room and kitchen combo. It’s not luxurious by any stretch of the imagination, but it IS comfortable. Quaint. And I don’t think we need much more than that, do you?”

Picking up his right hand, she patiently and gently tends to his nails. “I mean, I know it’s going to be pretty damn cold in the winter. And there’s going to be a lot of snow. But I’m used to it. I grew up in Colorado, remember? I know it’ll be a hard adjustment for an Aussie; you’re used to sun and sand and surf. But I think you’ll do alright. Actually, I KNOW you’ll do alright.”

When the conversation runs dry, she once more returns to humming as she works; finishing the rest of his nails before applying a hospital-provided moisturizer to both hands. Concentrating on the callouses on his palms and the one on the tip of his trigger finger; working the coconut-scened lotion into rough, thickened skin.

“I bet you haven’t been pampered like this in a long time,” she says, as she firmly massages his wrists, fingers, and thumbs. Diligently working at loosening the ligaments and tendons that have tightened over the course of the last six months. “If EVER. And I don’t mean to make it sound like I hate doing this, but buddy, you owe me one hell of a back rub when we finally get the hell out of here.”

It helps. Talking about the ‘when’ instead of the ‘if’. It’s the one thing that has kept her grounded and sane for half of a year; the plans they’d made and her determination to see them through. As long as she holds onto that little bit of hope, she hasn’t lost complete control of the situation; managing to keep death lingering at a comfortable distance while she navigates the grey and the gloom between here and there. If she allows herself to use the word ‘maybe’, she’s written him off; handed him the same death sentence that all the doctors and even Nik and Yaz have burdened him with. She refuses to give up; taking every flinch and flicker of his eyelids and twitch of his fingers or toes as a sign that he’s still fighting.

And nowhere close to surrendering.

She takes care of his hair next; spritzing it down with mandarin-scented detangler before making her way through with both brush and comb. Slipping a hand between him and the bed and gently lifting his head from the pillow; apologizing profusely when she feels as if she’s yanked a little too hard at the knots. And as exhausted as she is, she finds herself somewhat enjoying the tasks that she’s been given; a natural-born caretaker who’d been neglected and touch starved most of her life and in turn, wanted to make sure no one else experienced the same things. A mother hen so to speak; badly longing to protect and nurture another human being but never getting the opportunity to do so.

Until now.

“Pretty shitty circumstances though,” she says aloud, and drops the hair care tools into the top drawer of the nightstand. “I think I’d take the worst possible case of man flu over this any day of the week.”

Guilt immediately sets in. Worried that IF he truly can hear her and understand what’s being said, he’ll assume she feels he’s a burden. That the blame lies solely upon him in terms of her emotional and physical exhaustion and that she’s simply stuck by his side out of a feeling of misplaced servitude. He had saved her life in Dhaka, after all. Surely that must make her feel as if she owes him. That waiting on him hand and foot and perhaps even feeding him and cleaning his ass for the rest of his life is merely payback.

“I don’t really mean that you know.” She’s quick to apologize; using her hip to close the drawer on the nightstand and then leaning against the railing of the bed. And she chews nervously on her bottom lip as two fingertips swipe his bangs off his forehead and away from his eyes. “Not in the way it probably sounded. I don’t mind doing all this stuff. I WANT to do it. And I know you’d probably do the same for me. I just meant that it’s shitty circumstances that got us here. I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere else.”

Removing a tube of chapstick from the pocket of her hoodie, she snaps off the cap and leans over the bed railing. “You’re totally drying out here,” she laments, mindful of the breathing and feeding tube as she glides the bubblegum-flavoured concoction over his top lip, followed by the bottom. “I’m sorry it’s not the strawberry one you got used to in Dhaka. Remember how you always used to mention it? Every time you kissed me? About liking the taste of it? I ran out. And this cherry one was the closest thing I could find to it in the pharmacy here. There…” She uses a fingertip to clear excess from his lips. “…totally kissable now. Not that I wouldn’t kiss you before, but…” Pressing a kiss to each corner of his mouth. “…it makes it a little better.”

Pocketing the balm, she reaches for the lever on the bedrail and sets it into the down position. Gently straightening and smoothing out his blankets, she fluffs both the pillow behind his head and the one that supports his back before taking a seat on the edge of the mattress.

“Tyler…” She takes one of his hands in both her own. “…we need to have a little chat. I know it’s kind of unfair right now; you can’t exactly give an opinion or argue with me. And I promise that once you’re out here and back to normal, I MAY let you get a word in edge-wise from time to time. But for now, there’s some things I need to say. That I’d rather you hear now than never hear them at all, you know? Because…”

Sighing, she anxiously yanks the elastic out of her ponytail; shaking her long, dark tresses for before simply gathering them up and putting them back once again. “Look, you’ve been amazing, okay? You’ve done everything I’ve asked you to do; when it comes to giving me little signs that you’re making your way back to me. And I’m so proud of you; I know you’re tired and you’re healing but you’re still trying to help me out. That’s why it kills me that I have to do this. That I have to ask for more.”

She turns his palm up to face her and commences drawing slow, smooth patterns on it with the tip of her finger. Her eyes riveted on the beside monitor; a smile spreading across her face when his heart rate escalates.

“I keep telling them. That you ALWAYS respond to that. And that you’ve been responding to other things, too. I told them you’ll wiggle your toes or your fingers when I ask and how sometimes your eyelashes will flutter and other times you try and put your hand on top of mine. They don’t believe me; they think it’s all in my head. They keep saying that you’d do for them and the nurses if it was intentional. And you know what I said? I said ‘maybe he just doesn’t give a shit about any of you’.”

Sighing, she reaches up to tuck wayward strands of hair behind her ears.

“Tyler, I know I’ve asked a lot. And that you’ve worked really hard to give me what I asked. I know you’re tired; you’re trying to build up your strength so you can wake up and get the hell out of here. But we’re running out of time, babe. I told them I’d shut things off at the start of the sixth month; that’s only a couple of weeks away. I don’t want to do it, believe me. I want to keep you on these machines for as long as I can; until you’re a hundred percent ready to come off them. But if I don’t do what I promised, they’re going to take me to court. And they’ll get an order to override me and do what they want. I don’t want it coming to that. You deserve so much better than THAT. So this is where I need your help. AGAIN. I need you to do more, okay? I need a bigger sign. One that the doctors can’t brush off. I need something that says you’re almost ready; you’re stronger and you’re healthier and you’re almost at the finish line. I don’t want to say that I’m desperate, but I am. I really need this. I really need YOU. Because I’m starting to get really scared and you’re the only person that’s ever made me feel safe and protected and…” She valiantly struggles to hold back a flood of tears. “…and I never knew I even needed to feel those things. So please? Just do something. Anything. That shows them they’re wrong. Please.”

She waits for a sign. Another increase in heart rate. A flicker of his eyes. The wiggle of fingers and toes. And she’s crestfallen when nothing happens.

“You’re probably sleeping,” she laments, then slaps a hand against her forehead. “God I am so fucking stupid. Of COURSE you’re sleeping. You’re in a coma for Christ’s sake. I’m starting to lose it. I really am. I’m even talking to myself lately. Out loud. You can’t tell me THAT’S normal. And there’s one more thing…” She laces her fingers through his. “Now is going to be harder than I thought. To say what I need to. I don’t even know what I’m so scared of; it’s not you’re awake and you can laugh at me or act disgusted or just totally shoot me down. But I need to get it off my chest. Because if something does go wrong and something bad DOES happen, I’d never forgive myself for not telling you. So here it goes…”

Sighing heavily, she steels herself.

“I love you, Tyler. And I know what you’re probably thinking; about how it’s way too soon and that there’s no way you can love someone so quickly. Believe me, I never thought it was possible either. Until it happened. I don’t expect you to feel the same way; it’s not like you’ve spent the last five months like I have. Dhaka probably seems like just yesterday in your mind. I don’t expect you to wake up and say it back; not unless you FEEL it. And maybe you never will. I don’t know. Maybe those five days were as good as things were going to get. But I HAD to tell you. And to be honest, I needed to admit it to myself, too.”

For several minutes she sits in silence; tightly clasping his hand and watching his face for any change. The curl of a lip or the flutter of eyelashes or the swell of a cheek with an attempt of a smile. He’d been showing remarkable progress within the last few days alone; voluntary movements of his hands and feet and a slight grimace of pain when the night nurse had to change IV sites. But today he’s motionless; not even the smallest of flinches. Peacefully at rest; his beard and nails trimmed, his hair combed, and his skin warm to the touch.

“I’m going to go and do my stuff,” she says, and lifts his hand to her face; pressing a kiss to each battered knuckle and at the base of his wrist. “Do some yoga, take a shower, go down the hall to the kitchen and get something to eat. So I’m gonna just let you rest and…”

The moment she slips off the edge of the bed, his hand tightens around hers. Not with the strength of a man who’d been declared clinically dead and was relying on machines to keep him alive, but the strength of someone still very much alive. And fighting like hell.

“I knew it.” She allows the tears to come; cradling his cheek in her palm as she leans over the bed and rests her forehead against his. “I KNEW it.”

*****

Although running behind, she sticks to her morning schedule; simple ‘luxuries’ that she’s clung to to keep what’s remaining of her sanity. A lengthy and rejuvenating yoga routine that helps centre and ground; the furniture moved aside in the sitting area of Tyler’s private room to make space for herself and her mat. A long shower in one of the many ‘for family use only’ bathrooms; the pounding water working out the kinks in her neck and soothing the aches in her back and hips. Finished off with that first tea of the day and a quick and quiet breakfast. Steaming hot perfection combined with a bowl of yogurt, granola, and fresh fruit; always at the same table -and seat right next to the window- in the ICU’s small yet fully stocked and manned cafeteria.

It makes her feel human again. To focus on herself. But it’s fleeting and soon taken over by feelings of selfishness and guilt; ashamed that she’d allowed herself those moments of peace and clarity while Tyler continued to exist in that void between life and death.

But today is different. His response to her request for a more significant and more obvious sign and her profession of love has rejuvenated her; her confidence has returned to her step and her optimism and hope are both stronger than ever. She knows they’ll try and convince her it’s all in her head; gaslighting her into believing that she’s so desperate for a miracle that she’s become ‘delusional’ and is ‘highly imaginative’. But she knows for sure that his squeeze of the hand was the real deal; it was strong and assuring and sending a clear, unwavering message that he’d not only heard her pleas and requests, but was doing his best to acknowledge AND answer them. And now only one real challenge remains. Getting him to show the nurses and the doctors the same responses when they speak to him.

“This place is getting busy again,” Esme announces as she re-enters his room, her soiled yoga shorts and tank in hand; stuffing the latter into a near overflowing she’s been promising to take down the laundry room for over a week. “Remember how I was talking about all those rooms opening up? People getting shipped up to normal wards? Well, they’re full again.” Sighing, she gathers her damp hair in both hands and styles it into a haphazard bun; securing it with the elastic she keeps around one wrist. “A lot of pretty young people, too. I don’t what’s going on and how they’re getting so sick or so hurt, but…”

A barely audible grunt from across the room interrupts her mid-sentence. The anxiety is immediate; her stomach clenching and her jaw tightening as she tries to digest the never heard before sound. Any change of the ’norm’ brings about near panic; a fear that something different automatically means disaster. And her brows are knit together and her eyes are narrowed as she apprehensively glances over her shoulder.

His eyes open. Barely. The gaze is groggy. Confused. But steadily fixed upon her.

“Tyler?”

Another grunt. His eyes briefly closing before he raises a hand; trembling furiously as it reaches for the breathing tube.

“No! No! No!” Dropping her remaining belongings on the floor, she rushes to his bedside; fingers curling around his wrist. “Don’t touch that. You’ll yank it out. Hurt yourself. The nurse needs to do it for you. Can you see me? Hear me? Do you understand what I’m saying? Blink if you do.”

He obliges her request.

“What are you doing awake? What…?” Her words are cut off by a choked sob; one of pure shock and disbelief. And she wraps both arms around his neck and presses a kiss to his temple; tears spilling down her cheeks as she rests her head upon his shoulder. “You prick! Leave it to you to wait until I was out of the room!”

It takes tremendous effort and strength, but his hand comes to rest in the middle of her back; rubbing it in slow, smooth circles in an attempt to console her.

“You know how long I waited for this moment?” Pulling away, she lovingly ruffles his hair. “Almost six months! A half a year! I’ve thought about it every day. What it would be like when it happened. And what do you do? You go ahead and totally ruin it for me!”

He attempts a sorry. Words unable to get passed the tubes shoved down his throat.

“I’m just teasing you. Just giving you a hard time. Don’t try and talk, okay? Not until they get those things out of you. Do you know where you are?”

A small nod.

“Do you remember what happened? Do you know why you’re here?”

Another. Followed by heavy-lidded eyes surveying the room; brow furrowing at the sight of the various bedside machines and the wires attached to various parts of his body. And when he looks back at her there’s a mixture of emotions written on his face; a heavy dose of fear and concern.

“I know it’s a hell of a thing to wake up to. Being here. And I know you’re probably really confused right now. Your mind is probably all fuzzy. Nothing much is making sense, huh? You’re probably scared, too. I would be too.”

He raises a hand; knuckles brushing against her cheek before his arm once more falls heavily onto the bed.

“I’m okay,” she assures him, as she sinks down onto the edge of the bed and takes his hand in both of hers. “And so is Ovi. Nik’s had people with him ever since he got home. They follow him everywhere; keep a close eye on him. Just in case.”

His brow furrows as he regards her intently.

“I’m fine,” she stresses. “I was a bit banged up. Nothing serious. I’ve had a hell of a lot worse, believe me. I didn’t even need to spend the night here. Not as a patient, anyway. You did what you promised. You got Ovi out of there. You got him home. Safe and sound. It’s over. It’s all over. It’s been over for months now.”

Sighing, he looks up at the ceiling. Tears sparkling in his eyes.

“I know you’re probably really confused. You’ve probably got a lot of questions. But you’ve been here for six months. So have I. I wanted to make sure that you were taken care of. That no one would give up on you. And I knew this was going to happen. I knew you were going to fight your way back. That you weren’t ready to give up. You weren’t ready to leave.”

He shakes his head.

“The conceited part of me wants to say it’s all because of me. That I’m the reason you’re still here. That you made your way back just for me. But…”

His eyes find hers once more; hand squeezing hers as tight as his weakened body will allow.

“Sweet talker,” she chides, and leans in to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You try and rest, okay? I’m just going to go and call your nurse and she can contact your doctor or come and check you herself. Whatever she needs to do. I just…”

His grip tightens on her as she slips off the bed. The fear once more returning to his eyes.

“I’m not leaving, I just need to get your call button. It’s on the other side of the bed. I need to use it to get your nurse in here. Don’t worry…” Pushing a hand through his hair, she places her lips against his brow. “I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not EVER.”

*****

It seems so different now.

So foreign.

Almost uncomfortable.

It’s so quiet. All the bedside machines unplugged; dark and silent and shoved into a corner of the room. She had gotten so used to it; the hiss and the hums, the beeps and the clicks. The noises quickly becoming a part of her new existence; blending in with the chatter of the staff as they wandered the halls and the rattle of gurneys as they passed by the room. And she almost misses them; unaware of how familiar and routine they’d gotten until they suddenly ceased to exist. They had been a security blanket almost; something steady and constant that had signified life and hope and had kept her going at even her darkest and most difficult of moments.

He sleeps soundly; aided by powerful painkillers given through an IV line and fed to him through a programmed pump. She’d insisted on it; reminding them of the addiction issues that had been previously addressed and admitting -painfully- that he couldn’t be trusted to administer to himself. They’re hard things to accept; the powerful and all-consuming ties he has to both alcohol and Oxycontin. In Dhaka they’d briefly talked about it; he’d confessed to his addictions and admitted that he wanted to break free of their clutches. Getting clean was a priority now that he had someone in his life; he wanted to be rid of the worst of his vices, no matter how difficult it would be to walk away from them.

“You make me want to be a better man,” he’d announced, the sincerity in both his voice and his eyes had making her choke up. No one had ever given her a more beautiful compliment. Such honest and heartfelt words coming from someone like him; a phenomenally strong, seemingly fearless man weighed down by the enormity of his mistakes. Carrying around the burdens of guilt and grief and regret.

Not of that exists right now. He’s temporarily at peace; free of the monsters and the demons that have plagued him for years. His unassisted breathing slow and deep and rhythmic; his weakened and battered body trying to build whatever strength it can in order to begin the long, arduous road of healing. His skin is pale and the circles under his eyes dark and haunting; she’s already promised to get him out into the sunshine as soon as the doctors feel he’s up to it. He sleeps with his face turned towards her; unruly hair splayed out across his pillow and looking shades darker against the crisp white sheets. And there’s a slight smile curving his lips; perhaps feeling the tremendous relief that comes with walking through the darkest and deepest recesses of hell and living to tell about them.

Despite there still being a long and arduous road ahead, she feels as if a tremendous weight has been lifted off her shoulders; no longer concerned with deadlines and ultimatums and feeling an immense satisfaction at the doctors being proven wrong. And it had taken everything she had not to gloat when the primary care physician finally showed up to asses Tyler’s current physical and mental state and remove him from the machines. Feeling an immense sense of pride in him when he was able to answer -using nods or shakes of the head- basic questions regarding both his and her identity. Showing no signs of coma-induced amnesia; knowing her name and not only how they met, but how he ended up in the hospital in the first place. The line of questioning had been short and simple, but had immensely irritated him; the darkness in his eyes as he glared at the doctor gave a clear cut message: the interrogation was pointless, he wasn’t stupid, and he was simply tired of the other man’s shit.

The extubation hadn’t gone as smoothly as staff had hoped. What should have been simple and routine became a three ring circus when she was asked to leave the room; Tyler immediately panicking at the mere thought and his heart rate and blood pressure spiking to near dangerous levels as his fight or flight response kicked into high gear. Shockingly angry and strong for someone who’d been in a coma for half a year and only minutes before had appeared weak and docile. And with that the arguing and the threatening had began; Esme insisting that it was in his best interest if she was allowed to remain in the room where he could keep his eyes on her at the very least.

“He’s scared,” she’d informed them. “He’s scared and he’s confused. And I’m the one thing that’s been constant for the last six months. I’ve ALWAYS been here. He’s gotten used to that. What harm is it going to do if I hang around? It’ll help, if anything.”

For several minutes the bickering back and forth had continued. As had Tyler’s kicking and thrashing about in bed and the threats of “sedating him for everyone else’s safety.�� She refused to let that happen; there was no need to drug him up when simply letting her stay by his side and hold his hand and talk him through it would more than suffice.

Her tenacity and stubbornness had been the victors in the end. And she’d held his hand in one of her own; her lips pressed against his ear as she talked him through the entire process and whispered words of comfort and reassurance. Telling him she wasn’t going ANYWHERE; there was nothing and no one that could possibly tear her away. Not now. Not ever.

******

Exhaustion sets in, coming on strong and fast. It’s aided by her newfound optimism and the fears she’s been able to shed, and she welcomes the chance to rest with open arms. Carefully prying open his fingers in order to slip her hand out of his; his grip surprisingly strong and fuelled by his fear that if he stops touching her, she’ll simply disappear. But he’s sleeping soundly and neither movement nor absence of touch disturbs him; not offering up a single flinch as he continues to alternate between lightly snoring and murmuring in his sleep. And kicking off her slippers, she leans back in her chair; drawing her oversized hoodie tighter around her body and then stretching out her legs and placing her feet on the mattress. Giving him just enough contact that if he does wake, he won’t immediately panic; her toes tucked securely underneath the back of his left thigh.

When she wakes, the sun has shifted position in the sky; beams streaming through the courtyard’s glass roof and casting shadows upon the lobby’s walls and floor. For what seems like several long, tedious minutes she fights disorientation; her weary brain struggling to identify and make sense of the sights and sounds that had been part of her life for half a year. Yawning loudly, she presses the heels of her palms into her blurry eyes; keeping them closed as her hands move to her shoulders and she massages at the tight, aching muscles.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

She gives a small start; eyes rapidly flicking open and falling on the nurse that busies herself on the opposite side of the bed.

The younger woman gives a sheepish, apologetic smile. “I tried to be as quiet as possible. Sorry.”

“No need to be. It wasn’t you. I think my neck was crying out for mercy. I didn’t even realize you were here.” Esme frowns as concern sets in. She hates how quickly it can grab hold of her; the panic that comes with the fear of losing the one thing…the one person…that you truly DO love. Her life had changed half a year ago. Meeting someone who was just as damaged and tarnished as she was.

It could have gone so horribly wrong; two hurt and lonely people only making each other worse.

“Is he alright?” She attempts to keep her anxiety under control; the mere thought of him having a setback and ending up worse than before just too much to bear. While all her spoken and unspoken pleas and promises had been both accepted and answered, it’s been a nagging worry; a quick and sudden regression that sentences him to a life in a near -or full- vegetative state.

Even then, she'd stick by his side. Put her entire life on hold in an effort to improve his. And provide whatever care he needed. No matter how 'hands on'. “He’s doing just fine. Breathing well on his own; his numbers never drop below ninety-five percent.”

“And that’s good, right? Especially considering how long he needed that machine for? To already have numbers that high…”

“It’s excellent. Far better than anyone expected.”

“No one expected much from him, did they? And they sure as hell wouldn’t listen to me. I told them; that he was responding to my voice and when I tickled his palm and sometimes when I combed his hair. I knew what I was talking about. It wasn’t all in my head. I wasn’t hysterical or crazy like they said.”

“No. You most certainly weren’t.”

“You were the only that believed me. That didn’t think I was nuts.”

“You fought with too much passion and too much conviction to be anything BUT truthful. I could tell in your voice and in your eyes; you truly believed what you were saying.”

“I may not have known Tyler very long, but I know that he wouldn’t give up without a fight. Maybe before he met me, he would have. But we talked about the future. OUR future. There was no way he was giving up on them. On me. On US.”

“I wish all of the patients here at someone like you in their corner. I like to think that if they did, they’d heal a lot faster; knowing that someone is fighting for them and making sure they get nothing but the best. Do you know how many have no one? Whose families have just given up and stopped coming altogether?”

“I can’t even imagine being that way. Just abandoning someone. Especially someone I love. How do you live with yourself? How do you sleep at night? Pretending as if they don’t even exist anymore?”

“I don’t understand it myself.”

“It’s just so sad. The thought of them being all alone. No one caring about them. I know it’s not easy; seeing someone at their worst and not knowing if they’re going to make it or not. It’s hard; to lose someone you care about. But ignoring them and pretending they don’t exist doesn’t make it all go away.”

“And the guilt afterwards? The regret? If they DO die?”

“I couldn’t live with myself. I wasn’t going to do that to Tyler; just leave him here and go on with my life. I didn’t want him to be alone. He deserves so much better than that. And if he was going to die, I was going to make sure he had someone here with him.”

“I assumed you’d been with him for a long time. Considering how hard you fought. How you wouldn’t back down.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. The way I am. So soon after meeting someone. But I know how I feel. About him. And I know it isn’t wrong. Because nothing wrong could ever feel this right.”

“There’s no rules. No time limit. Whether it’s weeks, months or years that you’ve known someone. And don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“They don’t even try anymore,” Esme laughs, and leans back in her chair. “They know it’s a lost cause. My family gave up a long time ago.”

For several minutes they go co-exist in silence; Esme watching as the nurse tends to replacing IV and catheter bags, resetting the timer on the pain pump, and using an iPad to jot down the various numbers in regard to his vitals. And she’s beginning to doze off once more when the younger woman’s voice captures her attention; her head snapping up and her eyes flickering open.

“He’s got quite the hold on you there,” the nurse nods down at the bed; Tyler’s hand covering one of Esme’s feet in a surprisingly strong grip.

She wonders when he’d done it. If it was a subconscious moment while he was sleeping or if he’d woken up briefly and intentionally took hold of her. “He’s protective. Even while he’s like this. Just wants to keep an eye on me. Make sure nothing bad happens. Or I don’t get away.”

“I don’t think he has to worry about that. Especially that last part. You know, if you want to get out of here for a bit, I don’t mind sticking around. This was my last patient for these rounds. So if you want to go grab a tea or something to eat or eve get some fresh air…”

“I don’t want to leave him alone. If he wakes up and I’m not here, he might freak out. He might…”

“He won’t be alone. I’ll be right here. Sitting with him. I don’t mind spending my break here. You need some time to yourself. Even if it’s just to wander around a bit. Feel the sun on your face. The worst is over; he’s done his time in hell and come out the other side. You can breathe again.”

She chews on her bottom lip; considering the opportunity that’s been presented to her. And sighing, she turns her teary eyes towards the younger woman. “Please take care of him.”

“Of course. He’s in good hands.”

Giving a nod of approval and a smile of appreciation, she stands; pushing her chair away before approaching the side of the bed. Running her fingers through her hair before holding it back off his forehead; lips meeting warm, smooth skin.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises, a fingertip lightly trailing down the scar that inhabits the left side of his brow. “There’s nothing to worry about, okay? I won’t be gone long. I’m not leaving. You don’t EVER have to worry about that.”

#Tyler and Esme series #In a Heartbeat #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Tyler Rake fanfic #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction fan fic #Chris Hemsworth #Tyler Rake #Extraction 2 #Extraction #Tyler Rake x OFC #Esme Drummond #Esme Rake

[chickensarentcheap]

Lost and Found- Chapter 27

Fandom: Extraction

Pairing: Tyler Rake and Esme Drummond (established OFC. You do NOT have to read the other fics in the series to understand this one)

Warnings: some profanity, mentions of blood, bruises, physical injuries

Tagging: @tragiclyhip @youflickedtooharddamnit @secretaryunpaid @thebejeweledwatercat @fanficanatic-tw @munstysmind @themaradwrites @asirensrage @kmc1989 @karimac @ninjasawakenedmystar @theesirenteller @residentdormouse @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @occommunity @alisbackalleybbq

Link to Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43179357/chapters/134993251

My tag list is OPEN. Just let me know if you'd like to be added :)

****

When she wakes, it’s to the glow of the bedside monitor and the ribbons of moonlight that stream into the room. As the waves of the Tyrrhenian Sea vigorously lap at the base of the cliffs, a steady, crisp breeze flows through the open window; fluttering the curtains as the scent of salt fills the room.

She’s confused and disoriented. Days spent drifting out of consciousness; never fully aware of her surroundings, the identities of the people tending to her, or the validity of the conversations she partook in. Kept on high and frequent doses of medication as her body began the healing process; wanting to spare her the overwhelming stress that the intense and constant pain would inflict upon her. It takes several minutes for her surroundings to register; the disjointed and muddled mess of thoughts causing her head to swim as the room spins around her. Her mouth and throat are impossibly dry; finding it painful to swallow, her cracked and peeling lips burning when she dares to run the tip of her tongue along them. Her limbs feel impossibly heavy and rooted to the mattress below; the accompanying pain dull, yet manageable. A far cry from the agony she’d experienced after the accident; the memories of that afternoon returning slowly yet terrifying vividly.

“Tyler?” Her voice is barely above a whisper. Initially believing she’s speaking to an empty room, she gives a small start when she hears movement at the side of the bed. Then manages both a sigh of relief and a small smile as he drops his cell phone onto the mattress and slides his chair closer.

“Hey…”

The smile reaches his eyes, crinkling the corners. The first time she’d ever seen it, it had taken her breath away; the way the years seemed to drop away from his face and off his shoulders. Only to be replaced by a softness and a beauty not expected from a man like him. Weary and laden with unspeakable burdens; the traumas he’d endured for most of his life, the things he’d seen and done during his tours of duty with the military, the lives he’d taken during his time as a mercenary. And while others had deemed him reckless and dangerous, he’d been the only person who’d ever made her feel safe. Secure. Protected.

He briefly stands, leaning over the bed and running a hand over her hair. Hooking a finger under her chin, he gently tilts her face towards him; his lips gracing hers with the most delicate of kisses. “...sleeping beauty awakes.”

“I appreciate you trying to feed my ego, but I already know I’m a mess. And not a hot one, either.”

“You’re still here. Alive and on the mend. Can’t get much more beautiful than that.”

“Jesus, you really ARE the most biased man on the planet.”

“Biased or not, it’s true.” Pulling the chair as close as he can to the edge of the bed, he sits once more. A palm resting on the top of her head as his thumb repeatedly brushes against her brow and his free hand holds one of hers. How ya feelin’?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Better, I guess? Considering how I felt when it first happened…” She gingerly reaches across her body; careful to not upset the various tubes and wires and the IV needle that pierces the top of her hand. Allowing her fingertips to gently explore the various cuts and bruises that mar his face and neck. “Are you okay?”

“You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Excuse me? Have we met? I worry. It’s what I do. You should know that by now.”

“Of all the times you should be ignoring what I look like and what I’m doing.…”

“That’s impossible. I’ll never stop worrying about you; no matter what’s going on with me. I spent five years worrying; wondering how you were doing and if you were staying safe, and just hoping and praying you’d be alright. Every time Nik would tell me about a job you’d take…”

“You know, you could have cut out the middleman and just talked to me.”

“I wanted to, so many times. Do you know how many text messages I erased instead of sending them? How many times I’d call and get your voicemail, then just hang up without leaving anything? More than I like to admit.”

“I used to call your cell,” he sheepishly admits. “ The one you left behind. Just to listen to your outgoing message. Hear your voice.”

“Did it make you feel better?”

“Sometimes. And sometimes it made me mad as hell.”

“I’m sorry, Tyler. I am so sorry. And I know it seems like I’m constantly saying that, but…”

“Let’s not talk about it right now, okay? If there was ever a time NOT to…”

“What better time could there be? Not much else I can do.”

“It’s not important right now. We’ll get lots of time later. Believe me. When all this is over, and we’re finally home and settled, we can deal with everything else. But right now…” Cupping her cheek in his palm, the pad of his thumb tenderly glides over one of the many bruises that grace her skin. “...let’s just concentrate on you. Getting you better. And home.”

“That’s all I want. To go home. I mean, not that it actually IS my home. It’s not like I’ve ever lived there. I didn’t…”

“It is, though. Your home. OUR home. It’s the one we bought together. Made all kinds of plans for. The last five years didn’t just erase all of that.”

“But I never actually lived there. Other than when we first looked at it with the realtor, I’ve never even stepped through the front door.”

“That doesn’t matter. At least not to me. It’s always been your home, Me. It’s always been the place where you belong.”

Tears glisten in her eyes. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?”

“Like THIS. The way you are with me. The way you’ve always been. Why do you love me like you do?”

“Do I need to have a reason?”

“After everything I’ve done, after hurting you like I did, you still love me. Way more than anyone else ever has. Or could. Why?”

“Because I do. Isn’t that enough?”

“I don’t deserve it. Not after…”

“That’s just your guilt talking.”

“I have a reason to be guilty. Everything I did to you..”

“Esme, I love you. I have ALWAYS loved you. And I always held out hope that one day you’d just walk back into my life. I only wish it had been a little sooner.”

“If I only called you sooner. Not waited so long. If I’d just…”

“But you didn’t. And you can’t change that. You can’t go back and make different choices. And you know what, that’s going to suck for a long time. Believe me, I know. There are a couple of things I wish I could go back and change. Have a re-do.”

“When it comes to us? To me?”

“The only thing I’d change is that I’d stay home that day; instead of going to Broome with Koen. And I should have. Stayed with you. You were sick, and you needed me and I..”

“I thought it was stress. Or that I’d come down with something. I wasn’t bedridden. I didn’t need you to wait on me and food and baby me. I…”

“I should have stayed. It’s the one time I didn’t listen to my gut. And look what happened.”

“You being there wouldn’t have changed things. The adjudicator still would have shown up. If anything, your being there would have made things worse. I know what you’re like, Tyler. When it comes to me. How protective you are. How you wouldn’t think twice about hurting someone…even killing them…when it comes to me. That wouldn’t have ended well. If you’d laid hands on them.”

“Maybe not. But we could have gone through it together. Found a place to hide out while Nik dealt with everything. You leaving? That wasn’t the only option.”

“I was scared. I wanted to protect you. Everything I did that day, I did for you- to keep you safe. I never did any of it to hurt you.”

“I know that. And I’m starting to accept it. You just need to give me some time, yeah? To deal with all of it? Work through it? I need that from you. Time.”

“As long as you don’t want to go through it alone. As long as it means that it’s the three of us dealing with it all together. Me, you, Millie. That’s what you want, right? The three of us sticking together?”

“I wouldn’t think of NOT doing it that way. I’m not going anywhere- not now, not ever. You need to trust me when I tell you that.”

“I do trust you. I’ve always trusted you. You’re the only person I really DO trust. To this extent, anyway.”

“Then trust me when I tell you that we don’t need to be dealing with this right now. We’re going to have lots of time to talk about things. Work through them. But right now? Right now needs to be about you. And getting you back on your feet and finally home. That’s all that matters. Can we agree? To just focus on that?”

Esme nods.

Giving her a wink, he leans in to press a kiss to her brow)

Her fingertips continue the investigation of his face and neck; tracing over healing cuts and thriving bruises. “I think you’re going to have a few new scars. To add to your collection. Nothing major, but…”

“Wouldn’t be one of my jobs if I didn’t get a little fucked up.”

“You do have a bad habit of messing yourself up, that’s for sure. Why it has to be the face, I’ll never know. Of all things? The face? Really?”

“I appreciate your concern for the rest of my body,” he teases. “And my mental health.”

“This one will always be my favourite.” She runs a fingertip over the scar that curves over the bridge of his nose. “Always.”

“How ARE you feeling? And don’t bullshit me.”

“I feel fine. Well, I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the right word, but I know I feel a lot better than I did…” She frowns, her voice trailing off.

“What? What’s wrong? What…?”

“How many days HAS it been? Since we left New York? What day is it today?”

“It’s Friday.”

“What? Friday? Are you sure?”

“I’m fully aware of what day it is.”

“But we left on Monday. How can it already be Friday? I’ve been out that long? What…?”

“You’ve been on some really strong meds. Heavy-duty stuff. You’ve been in and out. Never fully conscious, though. The doctor thought it was for the best; let your body heal without trying to fight back against the pain.”

“Did you think it was for the best?”

“I wouldn’t have told him to go ahead with it if I didn’t. I didn’t want you in constant pain. I know what it’s like; to always be in agony. I didn’t want that for you. Of all people who don’t deserve that…”

“Thank you. For taking care of me. Fighting for me.”

“It’s what we do, yeah? Take care of each other? Isn’t that what you always say?”

She nods.

“It was my turn anyway. Considering everything you had to do? After Dhaka?”

“I didn’t HAVE to do it. I wanted to do it.”

“Just like I want to take care of you. No more running. I’m not that guy anymore. I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“I’ve never known that Tyler. I’ve only ever known that one who will do anything and everything he has to protect me. THAT’S the Tyler I know. The one I fell in love with.”

He presses a kiss to her temple. “I do have a bone to pick with you, though.”

“Uh-oh.”

“You scared the fucking shit out of me. Seeing you like that. After the accident.”

“It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Just don’t do it again, yeah? I’m not getting any younger. My heart can only take so much.”

“Noted. I’ll be on my best behaviour from here on out. You know what the good thing is? That once this is all over and we’re finally settled, we won’t have to worry about this kind of thing anymore. Let alone go through it. It’ll all be behind us. No more stressing over whether or not the last time you walk out the front door really IS the last time.”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’re kinda walking away from danger and right into another. You do realize you’re gonna be married to a firefighter, right?”

“As scary and as dangerous as that is, I will take it over you being a mercenary any day of the week. Not to take away from your skills or your talent. Because you’re amazing at what you do. But…”

“It’s time. For something new. Something normal.”

“Whatever ‘normal’ is when it comes to us. We’ve never really been ‘normal’.”

“Our own brand of normal, I guess. We weren’t meant to be like everyone else. And who wants to be? That’s boring as hell.”

“I’m okay with whatever brand of normal we come up with.”

“Speaking of being okay, you never really answered my question. About how you’re feeling.”

“I feel kinda weird, to be honest. The last thing I really remember is being with Nik and Yaz. On our way to the airport. When you gave me that morphine. Everything after that is a complete blur. Just the mashup of moments and words and sounds. I know that doesn’t make sense.”

“I remember feeling like that. After waking up from that coma. So it makes total sense to me. Have any pain?”

“A little. Nothing serious, though.”

“They almost weaned you completely off the IV meds. They’ll want to start you on oral stuff in the morning. They don’t want you hooked up to anything once you go home. Think you can manage that? Getting rid of all those tubes and wires?”

“I can definitely manage that.”

“Do you need anything? Something to drink? Eat?”

“I AM thirsty. And I definitely could eat. Honestly, I feel like I could eat the shit out of a dead hippo, right about now.”

He chuckles. “Now I know where she got it from. Millie said the same thing the other day. When she woke up and wanted breakfast.”

“Well, there is at least a little bit of me inside of her. A few of my genes. She can’t be EXACTLY like you.”

“She’s like me in all the best ways, though.”

“She’s beautiful, like you. That’s for sure.”

“You just had to go and insult me. Call me the ‘b’ word.”

“Regardless of what you think, you can be both badass AND beautiful. You check both boxes. Among many others.”

“You are so good for my ego.” Cradling her bruised cheek in his palms, he places a long, soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll go downstairs and see what I can round up. You feel like anything in particular or…?”

“Cheese toast.”

“I can’t believe you still eat that stuff,” he chides. “Thought you would have grown out of that by now.”

“It’s my favourite comfort food. That, and your lasagna. Remember how I’d always ask you to make that? If I wasn’t feeling well or I was just having a really shitty day? And you always did it. No questions asked. No bitching or moaning about it.”

“I liked making you happy. I still do. Besides, if Esme wasn’t having a good day, no one was.”

“I always felt I’d found the proverbial needle in the haystack. A guy that can fuck well, fix his own truck, AND cook? Nothing sexier than that combo.”

“You know, when it comes to men, your standards are very low.”

“Well, I mean, there’s a lot of things that are sexy about you. I have a very extensive list.”

“Like I said, you’re really good at stroking my ego. Among other things.”

(laughs, then winces when it causes pain and discomfort in her ribs)

“You just relax, okay? I’ll go and make you something to eat. Bring you some tea. It’ll do some good to get some food into you.”

He stands and leans over the bed; index finger once more hooking under her chin and tilting her head back in order to kiss her. Skimming his knuckles over her bruised cheek, she grabs his hand when he attempts to step away from the bed; squeezing tightly as he glances down at her. Scowling at the look of fear and worry that lines her brow and creases the corners of her eyes.

“You’re coming back, right?”

“I mean unless something happens to me on the way to the kitchen or on my way back here…”

“Promise me. That you’re coming back.”

“I’m coming back.” He chooses to assure as opposed to scolding her for thinking so irrationally. “I already told you, Me. I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

****

He returns with a tray laden with food and a small pot of tea; discovering that she’s managed to sit herself up in bed and now leans back against a selection of pillows stacked behind her. In spite of the bruises that decorate her face and various parts of her body, her colour has started to return; days spent a sickly, almost deathly gray, her skin impossibly dry. She’s starting to look like Esme again; able to smile, the sparkle back in her eyes, her sunken cheeks beginning to fill out. Clarity and understanding quickly restored; now fully conscious and aware of her surroundings. It’s a relief to see her like this; knowing the extent of her injuries and how close things had come to being so much worse. And when she beams at him as approaches the bed, it helps the last of his fears and worries subside.

“I see you made it back safe and sound. No one tried to kidnap you.”

“I was jumped in the hallway. Fought them off. Told them they may be mean and tough, but they don’t come close to you when you’re hangry.”

“I am not THAT bad.”

“I’ve lived with you. You ARE that bad.

“Got ya a little bit of everything.” Placing the tray across her lap, he takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. “Cheese toast, some apple sauce, some pasta that was left over from dinner, some tea.”

“I know I said I was hungry, and I really do appreciate you wanting to wait on me hand and foot, but…”

“You don’t have to eat it all. Just a bit of each. Do what you can.”

As she attempts to eat, he tends to the tea. Filling the waiting mug and adding a splash of milk, he keeps a quiet, watchful eye on her as she attempts to eat; her hands furiously trembling, making it impossible to even lift the food, never mind get it to her mouth. Instead of immediately jumping to her aid, he allows her to keep trying; knowing the enormity of both her stubbornness and her hatred for being too ‘dependent’ on another person. And it isn’t until she mutters profanities and begins to tear up that he finally steps in; sliding closer to her just as her lower lip and chin begin to tremble.

“Here…” Cupping a hand under her chin, uses the other to bring a slice of cheese toast to her lips. “...let’s make it easier on you.”

“You shouldn’t have to do this.”

“No one HAS to do anything. I’m doing it ‘cause I want to.”

“It’s embarrassing. I’m a grown-ass adult. I shouldn’t need someone to feed me.”

“Did you think that way when you were doing it for me? After Dhaka? That I was a grown man and should be able to do it myself?”

“You almost died. You were in a coma for seven months. You needed my help.”

“And you’ve gotten yourself fucked up pretty good, and you need my help.”

“It’s not the same thing. It’s…”

“It’s a two-way street, yeah? We already agreed on that. You take care of me, I take care of you.”

“But…”

“No ‘buts’. Just shut up and eat your cheese toast.”

He’s patient, and his voice is gentle, allowing her to take small bites and chew slowly, offering encouragement and praising her on both her efforts and success. Using soft fingertips to clear crumbs and cheese away from the corners of her mouth, then moved on to the applesauce; alternating between slipping the spoon between her lips and offering sips of tea. And he’s genuinely impressed when she makes it through more than half the pot and a couple of mouthfuls of pasta before tapping out.

Helping her get settled and comfortable against the pillows, he moves the tray to the dresser and disappears into the master bath. Returning moments later with a damp cloth and a hand towel in order to clean and dry her face. Afterwards, he climbs into the bed alongside her; mindful of the various tubes and wires as he settles next to her. Leaning back against the headboard and stretching his legs out in front of him; her body fitting tightly -and comfortably- against his when he wraps an arm around her shoulders.

Dropping a kiss on her hair, he places his chin on the top of her head. “You good? Feeling alright?”

“I’m good. Full. I think I ate too much. Probably shouldn’t have had THAT much.”

“That was nothing. I’ve seen you put away enough to feed four grown men.”

Laughing, she digs her elbow into his ribs. “Fuck off, Tyler.”

“It’s kinda sexy; a little thing like you being able to pack it away like that.”

“I’m starting to regret that I even woke up. You picking on me like this.”

“Everything I say, I say with love. Just like when you make fun of my huge feet and big ass forehead.”

“I don’t say those things with love. I say them with one hundred percent truth.”

“Now who’s starting to regret that you woke up?”

“For the record, EVERYTHING I say is out of love. Well, except for maybe when I used to bitch at you for leaving your dirty underwear in front of the hamper, instead of in it.”

“You sure it was mine? ‘Cause I don’t wear underwear ninety-eight percent of the time.”

“Well…” She settles her head on his chest and places her hand on his stomach; fingertips drawing slow, smooth circles on the fabric of his t-shirt. “... unless there was another guy living there that I didn’t know about…”

“It was my twin. My EVIL twin.”

“And what did you do with him? Your evil twin.”

“Who says you’re not talking to the evil one?”

“The evil twin would NOT have spoonfed me apple sauce.”

“That’s a very good point.”

“Besides, there’s nothing evil about you- not in the slightest. Trust me, I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you if there had been. And I definitely wouldn’t have STAYED in love with you. The last five years haven’t exactly been pleasant for me, either.”

“I know. It’s not like you wanted to leave. Or stay away.”

“But, I promised we wouldn’t talk about this. Not right now, anyway. And I don’t want to fight. I know how things get when we talk about intense stuff; we both get worked up, and our tempers take over and mean things get said. And then the next thing you know, all kinds of feelings are hurt, and we hate each other.”

“I’ve never hated you. I never could.”

“Okay, maybe hate is a strong word. But feelings do get hurt, and then we hold grudges against each other, and things are awkward for a while. And I don’t want things to be awkward. I want to be better than that; like we were five years ago. Not that we were horrible together, or anything. Because we weren’t. We just…”

“We both had a shit we were carrying around. It was bound to fuck things up every now and then.”

“Everything happened so fast. Between us. We never really got a chance to catch our breath, did we.”

“Not really, no.”

“We went from those five days in Dhaka to living together and planning a future. It’s not like we dated; or got to know each other like normal people.”

“I think we long ago established that we are both far from normal. Do you regret it? The way we handled things? The way they happened?”

“No. Not in the slightest. I just think it’s just a reasonable explanation; for why things got a little tense and out of hand at times. But you? US? I’ve never…for not even one second…had any regrets. I mean, other than the obvious. My fuck up five years ago. I think that goes without saying. Do you? Have regrets?”

“No. It all happened for a reason: you showing up on my doorstep that day, everything that went down in Dhaka. And I hope one day I can say the same thing about you taking off, keeping Millie a secret. That there was a reason for it to happen that way.”

“There was. I wanted to keep you safe. That’s the only reason. And as far as not telling you about Millie…”

“I know you were scared. That I’d turn you away. That I wouldn’t want anything to do with her. And there are moments where I totally accept that. But other times…”

“Hurts like hell.”

He nods.

“I AM sorry, Tyler. And if there was a way of taking it all back…”

“Well, there isn’t.” Immediately aware of the harshness of his voice, he gives her shoulder a squeeze and smiles down at her. “I love you. I always have. And isn’t that what really matters? When it all comes down to it? That I love you?”

“That’s all that’s ever mattered. It was the only thing I ever had that was real. How you felt about me. It was the only thing that was ever important. And then Millie came along. She’s all I had of you. My only connection. I didn’t even have a picture of you. I just had her.”

“You’ve done a good job, Me. A damn good job. She’s beautiful. And so fucking smart. Way smarter than I was at that age, that’s for sure. Probably smarter than I was at TWICE that age. Maybe even smarter than I am now.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve got a bigger brain pan than you realize or let on. And that’s part of what makes you so good at what you do. You’ve got the size, strength, and skills; those things are easy for people to see. They don’t expect you to be smart, too. They underestimate you. And that’s what makes you so dangerous.”

“I don’t know, Me. I think you have me beat in that department. If anyone is underestimated…”

“Well, you know what they say, about good things coming in small packages.”

“Pocket-sized packages, in your case.”

“Oh God, not THAT again.”

“I’m just saying. You’re tough for a little thing. I can see why you were so good at the job. No one would ever expect someone like you to be able to pull those kinds of things off.”

“It was survival of the fittest. And the smartest. I learned early on that if I was going to make it out alive, I had to be really good at what I did. It was exhausting, though: pretending to be a completely different person all the time. I’m glad it’s done; that I can just walk away and never think of this life again.”

“Soon. Once we’re out of here and get settled in Broome and Nik takes care of things back in New York City…”

“It’s going to be weird. Living a whole different life. Seeing you doing a different job. I have to say, you picked a pretty sexy career. A girl loves a man in uniform.”

“I don’t wear a uniform.”

“That’s it; go and ruin my fantasy.”

“And there’s nothing sexy about those coats and those boots, I’ll tell you that much.”

“You’re just a real party pooper, you know that?” Nuzzling her cheek against his chest, she closes her eyes. Relaxing in the warmth that radiates from his body, the hard muscle against her, his familiar scent, and the way his calloused fingertips repeatedly graze up and down her arm. She desperately needs and craves the close contact; the feel of him a vivid reminder that she’d walked through hell and come out the other side.

*****

Several minutes pass before she speaks again. “Has Millie been okay?”

“She’s been worried about her mum. Constantly asking the doctor and the nurse about how you’re doing and if you’re getting better. And giving all kinds of advice on how to take care of you. She’s pretty adamant that mint chocolate chip ice cream is the cure to everything.”

“Was she ever in here? Because I don’t know if I was dreaming, but I have this very vivid, distinct memory of her sitting on the bed and brushing my hair.”

“Every night before bed, she comes in and sits with you. She always brushes your hair. And reads you a story.”

“That’s why I can’t get ‘Goodnight Moon’ out of my head. We really need to toss that book. Get her interested in something else. Because if I hear that damn story one more time…”

“Consider it done. As soon as we get home, it’ll mysteriously disappear. Along with your ten pairs of Crocs.”

“Hey! Leave my Crocs out of this. They didn’t do anything to you.”

“They’re an abomination.”

“They’re comfortable!”

“They’re ugly, is what they are.”

“If you know what’s good for you, you won’t touch my Crocs. I can hurt you, you know. In ways no one else ever has.”

“Doesn’t sound too ominous. Sounds more like you’re threatening me with a good time.”

“Listen, if you want to take your chances…”

“I’d rather be safe than sorry. You’re scary for a little thing. Probably the only person on earth who DOES frighten me.”

“You SHOULD be afraid. Very afraid. I have powers. That you can’t even begin to comprehend.”

“If you’re threatening me with no sex, I’ll have you know that I went months without it. After you left. Almost an entire year. So don’t think I can’t do that again. I don’t want to, but…”

“Who am I kidding? I’d never do something like that. I’d suffer just as much as you would. If not more.”

Yawning noisily, she once more closes her eyes; enjoying the feel of his breath against the top of her head and the sound of his heart beating deep within his chest. And he’s teetering on the edge of sleep when he feels her move against him; finding her peering up at him, chin resting just below his shoulder.

“You alright?”

“I have something to tell you.”

“I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“It’s nothing bad. At least not to me. You might see it a bit differently. When you hear what it is. But I just figured that since we’re doing this whole totally honest, completely open thing, there was no reason to wait. That we’re in a good enough place to talk about it.”

“If it has anything to do with when you left and started hiding out…”

“It’s nothing to do with that. Well, maybe it does. I don’t know. I suppose it’s kind of related. Very loosely, mind you. I just think this is the time to tell you about it. I’m finally awake and feeling a lot better, and we’ve had some really good talks tonight, and I guess I want to keep the ball rolling and just..”

“Esme, you’re rambling.”

“I don’t even know where to start. HOW to start.”

“Just spit it out. Say what you want to say. What you NEED to say.”

Sighing heavily, she briefly glances away, chewing nervously on her bottom lip. “I was the one who asked Alcott to get you out of prison.”

“What do you mean you were the one who…?”

“I had spies, okay. Informants. Keeping me up to date on you. Alcott, Nik, Yaz. You know, people I could trust; to do the job for me and keep quiet about it. I didn’t want you to know that I was keeping an eye on you; I know how much you hate being babied or coddled or worried and I was afraid you found out I was sticking my nose where it didn’t belong…”

“I would have just been happy to know you were okay. To know you even still gave a shit about me. I wouldn’t even have questioned it; you spying on me.”

“I always gave a shit about you. It was never about NOT giving a shit. I still worried about you. I still LOVED you. None of that ever stopped. Not even for a second.”

“I can’t believe I didn’t know about any of this. You and Alcott being buddies.”

“You know what it’s like in the circle. Everyone’s connected in some way.”

“And you asked him not to tell me. That he knew you.”

“There was no reason for you to know. It didn’t really have any bearing on anything. And it kept Millie and I under the radar; the fewer people who knew where we were and who were connected to, the better.”

“So he just called you and told you I was in prison?”

“Not exactly. Well, I mean, he DID. He was the one who let me know. But before that, he’d shown up in New York. Totally unexpected. And he told me all about the job in Georgia; how it involved your sister-in-law and her kids, and that it was Mia that hired you.”

“And…?”

“And it didn’t sit right. The whole thing just felt ‘off’ to me. I found it really…troublesome…that she sought you out like that. I mean, didn’t seem kind of weird to you? That after years of even knowing she was, she would just show up out of the blue? For something like THAT?”

“It was a little…odd.”

“I didn’t like it. At all. The fact she went looking for you. The fact that she would probably use your son’s death against you; use all that guilt and regret and grief to get you to do what she wanted. You can see why, right? Why I’d think that? Why I’d immediately go in that direction?”

“I’m not saying you were wrong for thinking it.”

“I knew once she did that, you’d go along with it. You’d take the job; not even caring about how risky it was or how dangerous the Nagazi were. So naturally, that made me even more nervous. Knowing you were going into something like that.”

“And Alcott kept you up to date? On what was happening?”

“I asked him to let me know how things went. Like I said, I was worried about you. And I knew all about Davit and Zurab and what they and their people were capable of. It scared me, alright? I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I loved you. You were the father of my daughter. And the thought of her losing you before ever even having you…”

“This is just…” He laughs incredulously and shakes his head. “Wow.”

“I knew exactly when the job started. Day, time. Right down to the very second. And Alcott was supposed to let me know how things went; get a hold of me as soon as you were free and clear from the prison and on your way to Vienna. So I could rest a little easier, you know? Only I didn’t hear from him for a few days. Which got me totally freaked out. I left messages, I sent texts. Nothing. Just silence.”

“And then…”

“And then I put more feelers out. I reached out to other colleagues. People I’d worked with in Europe. Specifically in and around Austria. I knew if anyone could find out if you made it there safe and sound, it would be then. And then they called back and told me that you were alive, but they couldn’t tell me exactly where you were. That I was ‘need to know information’ and I didn’t need to know.”

“So Alcott…”

“He FINALLY got a hold of me. A week later. And he told me what happened in Vienna. How you killed Zurab but ended up getting busted by the cops and thrown in jail. You were going to be there a really long time, and I didn’t want that to happen. You didn’t deserve to be there. All the bad things the Nagazi did? All the horrible shit they inflicted on people? You should have been given a key to the city and a parade in your honour. Even had a day named after you.”

“Whether or not I did the right thing, what we do IS illegal.”

“I didn’t want you rotting away in there. Not for helping people. For getting that kind of trash off the street. And there were selfish reasons, too. For why I wanted you out of there. I already knew I was going to bring Millie to you. It had always been my plan; to take her to her dad before she turned six. And considering you were facing a life sentence, I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. I wanted Millie to meet you. Have a relationship with you. And that couldn’t happen if you were locked up.”

“You’ve been really busy the last five years, haven’t you.”

“I was caught up in a few things,” Esme admits. “ Nothing that ever put Millie in danger. I’d never do that; take a job that could put her in harm’s way. There was no reason to think things would go so wrong with Alessio. I was so close; to getting all the information I needed. Everything had been so easy. Gone so smoothly. If I ever thought anyone would try and hurt her…”

“I never once thought that. That you’d put her in danger. I know how quickly things can go wrong. And if there was no reason to think that the job would go to shit…”

“Like I said, everything had been so easy. It was all running so smoothly. I would have been finished in a week. Two at the most. I don’t know what happened; I don’t know how things went so badly. But I never would have agreed to help Nik out if I even had the tiniest worry that Millie could be hurt. That’s my little girl. My baby. She’s all I had; my only connection to you. I wouldn’t have agreed to anything that could possibly hurt her. I…”

“Esme, you don’t have to defend yourself. To anyone. Let alone me. I’m the last person who’d ever judge you. All the things I’ve done? You really think I’d think less of you?”

“She’s your daughter, too. It would be really easy for you to be angry. Look what happened. Alessio’s family tried to kill us. It’s only reasonable that you’d be pissed about that.”

“I am pissed about that. But I’m pissed at them, not you. I know how much you love Millie. How well you’ve taken care of her. Look how happy she is. How healthy. How fucking smart. That’s not a kid being raised by a shitty mother.”

“She’s my entire world. I waited so long to be a mom. I’d never do anything that would put her in danger. I’d never…”

“I believe you. I’m not accusing you of anything. I’ve never once thought something like that.”

“The other night you were pretty angry. And you asked me how I could ever put her at risk like that. Why I would even go back to the job with her in the picture. You…”

“I didn’t mean any of that. I was pissed. Hurt. I’m an asshole when I’m going through shit like that. I say things I don’t mean. I’ve always been that way. You know that.”

“Still, there had to be some truth to it, right? To your words? There must have…”

“I love you, Esme. I always have. And I’m sorry that I lashed out like that. Said those things. But I didn’t mean them. I was hurt. And I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, you succeeded. Because it did. Hurt. I may have deserved to hear it…”

“You didn’t. You’re the last person who deserves it. It was just me being an insensitive prick. That’s something I need to work on. Not lashing out like that. I don’t want to hurt you. That’s the last thing I want.”

“I guess we both have things we need to work on, huh?”

“There’s a list. Or two. And we’ll get to it when everything settles down. For now, can we go back to what we were originally talking about? Alcott? What happened after he contacted you and told you where I was?”

“I couldn’t let you waste away in jail,” she continues. “They would have kept you in there for the rest of your life. So I asked Alcott if there was any way he could pull some strings. Did he know someone on the inside who could help get you out of there? He arranged a meeting. Between me and his boss. I already knew him; from my time in New York when I was doing freelance work. I’d done a few intel jobs for him. Nothing too major. But if anyone could help, I knew it would be him. That’s a man with a lot of power. A lot of people under his thumb.”

“He is NOT the kind of person you should be mixed up with.”

“I had been offered some work. In Abu Dhabi. That involved one of his biggest rivals. So I made a business proposition; I’d hand over all the information I had and the whereabouts of this person in exchange for getting you out of prison. But he’d only agree if you would be the one to take over; take everything I knew and go after his rival and kill him. It was up to Alcott to offer you the deal; do a job for them and earn your freedom.”

“I can't believe you stuck your nose in that shit.”

“Look, I did it because I love you. Because I always have. Nothing changed in those five years. If anything? Missing you like that? Having a baby…YOUR baby…it made me love you even more. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Let you rot away in that prison. You didn’t deserve to be there. All you did was take out the trash.”

“I did a little more than that.”

“It was all you? That made all that happen?”

“I just came up with the idea. Alcott had to make it happen. He did the hard work.”

“I don’t know, getting in contact with the likes of his boss? That takes some balls. That’s the last person you ever should have trusted.”

“I didn’t have a choice. I had to get you out of there. And I needed help to make it happen. There was no one else. Believe me, if there had been, I would have asked them.”

“You did all of that? Put yourself at risk? For me?”

“Okay, so you may have shot the ever-loving shit out of Vienna. And came very close to burning the entire city to the ground. But it’s not like you didn’t have help.”

He gives a small chuckle.

“I couldn’t leave you there, Tyler. Just like I couldn’t leave you on that bridge in Dhaka. And I got you out of jail just as much for me as I did for you. Because I knew I’d see you again. Because I wanted you to meet Millie and be a part of her life. Finally get to be her dad. And that couldn’t have happened if you were stuck in there.”

He nods slowly as he considers her words.

Pushing her fingers through his, she brings their joined hands to rest on her collarbone and presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You’re not mad, are you? Please tell me you’re not mad. I didn’t bring it up to cause issues. I just figured we’ve been so open and honest with each other and we both want to keep that going and…”

“I’m not mad in the slightest. I have no reason to be. I’m more surprised than anything; hearing you were involved in all that. I never would have connected any of that to you. Not in a million years.”

“At the time it all went down, I didn’t want you to know it was me. I wasn’t ready; for us to come face to face. I was scared, and I was holding on to so much guilt and regret, and I didn’t want those things ruining it, you know? So I asked Alcott to help me. And before your mind goes there, he helped me as a FRIEND. Nothing more. There never was -and never will be- anything between us.”

“He knows better than to even try. He knows I’d kill him.”

“Always the protective one.” She nuzzles the underside of his chin with the tip of her nose. “Always.”

Smiling, he pecks the bridge of her nose, then rests his brow against his. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

“I never stopped worrying about you, Tyler. I worried every second of every day. That something bad would happen, and I’d never get the chance to see you again. Or that you’d ever get a chance to see Millie. Or hear me say that I was sorry.”

“But we did get that chance. All of that happened.”

“It shouldn’t have taken so long.”

“We’re not going to talk about that. Getting into the reasons why. Not right now.” Tightening his hold on her, his hand falls to her hip as she presses herself into his side and rests her head on his chest.

“You know how you always say there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for me? Well, it’s a two-way street. Because there’s nothing I couldn’t do for YOU.”

“I know. Believe me, I KNOW.”

“We take care of each other. It’s what we do. It’s who we are.”

“It’s kinda only gone one way. Taking care of each other. At least until now.”

“Well, in all fairness, I’ve never really given you a chance. To take care of me. And that’s mainly because I don’t get in nearly as much trouble as you do.”

He smirks. “I’m not quite sure about that.”

“For what it’s worth, you’re really good at. The whole taking care of someone thing. It’s a whole different side of you. That you don’t let anyone else see. Just me.”

“There’s a lot of those sides.”

“I’m lucky. You’ve always felt comfortable showing them to me. Right from the start of things. In Dhaka. You never hid them from me. You never hid the REAL you.”

“I never felt a reason to.”

Smiling, she reaches up to once more trace the various scars and cuts that decorate his face. Gentle fingertips glide over old and faded, raised and angry, a nail slowly travelling the entire length and curve of his jaw. “I do love you, you know.”

“Yeah…” Giving her hip a gentle squeeze, he leans down to peck her lips. “...I know.”

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