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chickensarentcheap · 3 years

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Never Gonna Be Alone- Chapter 43

Title: Revelations

Warnings: profanity, angst

Tagging: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @alievans007, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @miss-smutty, @tragiclyhip

He’s out the door by five thirty in the morning; leaving behind the warmth and the comfort of his home and making the five block trek to the Hudson River. With no fresh snowfall, the sidewalks and streets are remarkably clear; milder than normal temperatures slowly melting the waist high banks and turning patches of ice into puddles of muck and slush. His strides are long and purposeful. Soles of his runners crunching as they pass over neatly and tightly packed snow; following the foot tracks that earlier pedestrians have left behind. Chin tucked into his chest and his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie; anxious to get to his destination and start the day off in the right frame of mind. The headphones worn over a black beanie render him oblivious to sounds of life taking place around him ; the pounding of the music blocking out the sounds of traffic and the rattles and bangs that accompany the city garbage trucks. While he doesn’t make eye contact with those he passes, he notices the nods of greeting; meeting them with the brief turning up of the corner of the mouth and a slight head nod of acknowledgment. It’s what he enjoys most about the area and what eventually sold him on the idea of buying the brownstone; people are friendly enough to smile or offer a quick ‘good morning’, but don't possess enough curiosity to actually stop and speak.

He’s never been a social butterfly. Popular in high school, he’d blended in easily with the ‘jocks’ simply because of his athletic prowess and fairly good looks; girls wanted to date him, guys wanted to befriend him and hang out and attend beach parties. And while he’d followed the mantra ‘fake it until you make it’ and managed to stay quietly on the sidelines, he’d never been entirely comfortable with his status as one of the ‘cool kids’. The guy who’d get irritated when his buddies would make fun of the less popular kids; easily flying off the handle and calling them out on their shit if they said anything degrading towards the special needs students or dared to lob sexual comments towards females. He’d felt more in tune with the ‘loners’; the ones who’d hang out in the back of the cafeteria with their noses shoved in books or who’d eat their lunch sitting in front of their lockers.

It’s how he’d met his ex wife; a newly arrived grade nine student whose family had just moved Port Douglas from Perth. Taller than most females he’d ever encountered, she’d had a thicker build that both guys and girls consistently made fun of; broad shoulders and muscular legs and well defined arms. Shy and soft spoken and never making eye contact with anyone in the hall; thick, wavy blond hair falling over her face as she ignored the whispers and the stares and kept her books and binders clutched tightly to her chest. He’d been the first student to approach her; the last football player to leave practice and finding her sitting on a curb outside of school, waiting for a ride that was running late. And she’d seemed both stunned and terrified when he actually spoke to her; standing above her still clad in his now muddy and sweat soaked practice gear, helmet tucked under one arm and his backpack slung over a shoulder. Introducing himself and offering both a hand in greeting and a ride home; quickly discovering that she had a beautiful smile and the most stunning green eyes he’d ever seen. And she’d made him feel things that none of the other girls ever had; never experiencing that immediate and intriguing spark with any of the prom queens or the cheerleaders that he’d attempted relationships with in the past.

“I know who you are,” she’d said, nervously tucking her hair behind her ears. It had shimmered in the sunlight; the lightest and most beautiful shade of blond that he’d ever laid eyes on. “Everyone talks about you. You’re like the most popular guy in school. Yet you don’t act like that. You’re not a total ass to people. You’re different.”

It had been the first time that anyone had ever told him that. Truly believing that the company he’d kept had painted him in a far different light. Guilty by association because those he hung around were boisterous and crude; convinced that being good at sports meant they ran the school and didn’t have to show respect to anyone. And it had made him feel good; being seen as kind and compassionate doing wonders for his ego in a way no touchdown or goal scored ever could.

She’d accepted his ride home that night. And the request for a date before she slipped out of the car. Two weeks later they were inseparable and considered themselves ‘exclusive’; holding hands in the hall and having lunch together every day and spending nearly every waking hours outside of school with one another. He was convinced that he met the love of his life and that she’d be the one he’d marry and have a family with. Grow old with.

It had started out well; a brief engagement and married only a week after graduation. She’d been certain she could handle the life of a soldier's wife; he was new to the military but extremely committed and determined to make a lifelong career out of it. And for the most part they’d been happy; a little house not far from his home base, a tight circle of both military and civilian friends, the honeymoon stage lasting well into the second year. Everything changed once he received his first deployment; eight weeks in Afghanistan that quickly turned into six months. When he’d returned home, he’d begun hearing the rumours; she was angry at his absence and his inability to call home on a regular basis and sought solace in the arms of not just one man, but many. He hadn’t wanted to believe it, and she’d been convincing when he’d confronted her about it; pledging her undying love for him and assuring him -with both words and her body- that he was the only man that she’d wanted.

He’d been an idiot. For years. So smitten that he hadn’t wanted to accept the truth and refused to walk away; seeing her as his ‘be all and end all’ and not wanting things to come to an end. He DID love her. Probably a lot more than she had ever loved him. He’d been so terrified of abandonment, that he’d held on even tighter; he’d lost the only other woman he’d ever loved at a very early age and couldn’t stand the thought of losing Sarah too. So he put up with it; sticking by her side no matter how many notches on the bedposts she lodged and no matter how rampant the rumours and the gossip became. Soon that love turned into resentment and sheer tolerance. Letting her live her ‘double life’; pretending to be a happy and adoring couple in public yet knowing she was off running around behind his back the second he was shipped off for a tour. His drinking became a problem; booze numbing the heartache and the loneliness and giving him an escape from the miserable reality of his life. And he’d been a week removed from filing for divorce when the pregnancy test came back; she was expecting a baby and she was adamant it was his despite all the evidence that told him there was no way he could possibly be the father. He couldn’t leave her like THAT. He’d be viewed as the bad guy; the asshole that had ended his marriage WHILE his wife was pregnant. So he’d changed his plans; vowing that he’d stay by her side no matter what and that he’d be the best father and family man he could possibly be.

He’d been in Iraq when Austin was born; informed of his son’s arrival while in Mosul and immediately sent home. And he’d known right away that the kid wasn’t his the second he’d looked at him; not a single feature that could be attributed to either father OR mother. But it hadn’t mattered. The second he’d held Austin in his arms and all of those tiny fingers had curled around just one of his, Tyler had made his decision; he’d stick around and be the boy’s daddy and love him a way he never thought it was possible to love another human being. He’d be the kind of father his kid could one day brag about; attentive and patient and compassionate. Never would he be like his old man. He would cut back on his drinking and get help with his anger management issues and his wife would never have to worry if he’d wander and find someone else; throwing himself one hundred percent into their marriage and in raising a family together. Even if it meant that he’d never be truly happy and that she’d continue her dalliances whenever he was stationed overseas. He’d stay committed to her no matter what; his son never having to grow up without both parents under the same roof or suffer from the trauma of being from a broken home.

The cancer had changed everything. The stress behind caring for a terminally ill child had brought out both his and Sarah’s true sides; they didn’t love each other and could barely stand being in the same room together and all of the pretending and the faking was just wearing them down and making things even worse. But he’d admired her; her commitment to caring for their rapidly deteriorating son, the steadfast determination to beat it ‘no matter what’, and the rock solid courage she displayed when it was evident Austin’s time on earth was coming to an end. And despite her mistakes and her failures as a wife, she HAD deserved better. She had needed a man that would support her; someone that would hold her while she cried and lift her up during the especially dark and trying times and would be by her side during funeral preparations. He’d failed her; running away when things became too painful to witness. And in the end, he’d failed his son as well. Leaving him alone and scared; his final moments on earth spent wondering what he’d ever done to make his father hate him THAT much.

It’s been seventeen years and sometimes it hurts just as much as it did the moment he got the news. The loss still painful and immense; a part of his heart forever torn out of his chest and never able to be put back into place. And it isn’t just the unexplainable and often unbearable sorrow that comes with losing a child; so powerful and pronounced it can bring even the toughest of men to their knees. It’s the guilt and the regret that continue to haunt and eat away at him; silent and waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. It comes when he’s at his lowest; when the combined mental illnesses are rearing their ugly heads and threatening to drag him down. That’s when the voices come out to play; the cruel and the degrading whispers in his ears that insist he’s EXACTLY the monster that he’s made himself out to be. The kind that abandons those he loves when the going gets tough; physically brave, but an emotional coward. They remind him not only of the mistake he’d made with Austin but those he’d committed within the last twelve and a half years; the lies he told and the promises he broke and the times he raised his voice or put a fist through a wall. The moments he’d slipped and given in to his addictions; the fear of being a failure as a husband and father pushing him to not only the job, but the bottle and the pain meds as a form of coping and a means of escape.

Normally he’s able to fight those voices off; years of therapy -and an extremely patient and attentive wife- helping him develop healthy coping mechanisms. The water remains his favourite and most successful form of escape; the familiar scent of salt that hangs heavily in the air, the sounds of the waves as they roll up onto the shore, the sun's powerful and often punishing rays glistening on the rippling surface of the ocean. Sometimes it’s a couple hours spent surfing; the feel of the wind against his face and crispness of the water that seems to cleanse his very soul. There’s days where it’s as simple as a walk along the ocean line; the water lapping at his ankles, wet sand cushioning and moulding around his feet. Or a hike through the forest across from their home. Taking a well beaten path that snakes and winds through the dense gathering of trees and leads to a small clearing; a small wooden staircase he’d erected shortly after they’d moved into the house giving access to a patch of pristine, white beach. It’s a tiny piece of solitude; tucked away and unseen from even the edge of their main property. And they’ve ventured there together many times; taking along that faded and tattered plaid blanket and a picnic lunch and taking advantage of every minute of quality time granted to them. Reconnecting in many ways; playful bantering and light hearted teasing, deep and emotional chats revolving their respective childhoods and the shared loss of the only parent that had loved either of them. Even after twelve and half years there’s never a lull in conversation; always something new and long buried that’s brought to the surface and finally shared after decades of locking it away. It’s never boring when they’re together; a strong friendship and a unique and powerful bond -cemented during that difficult and terrifying time nearly thirteen years ago- serving as a stable foundation for everything else built upon it.

The riverfront is quiet. A half a dozen dog walkers and one lone jogger. The latter a middle aged woman in top of the line athletic gear that he’s encountered a handful of times over the past three years and always offers him a warm smile and a nod in greeting. He pauses at the railing; checking for any missed calls or text messages and taking his time to stretch and warm up. The body feels good today; the stiffness and the pain minimal, the warmer than usual temperatures keeping any arthritis flare ups at bay. There’s a distinct connection between his physical condition and his mental one. When his body feels healthy and he’s able to skip the daily cocktail of pain meds and exercises learned during physio, his mental condition isn’t as fragile. The burden of stress and torment that normally sits upon his shoulders suddenly seeming so much lighter; the usually bottomless and fermented wound in a long ago broken heart not seeming so gaping or festering. He feels energized and renewed; a deep and peaceful sleep and a pain free morning making him feel as if he’s prepared -mentally and physically- to take on the world. It’s still there; the black cloud of depression that hangs over him. But it doesn’t seem so ominous or menacing; those slivers of hope and positivity managing to sneak through.

He takes a moment to relish the view. The peek of the sun on the horizon, the glistening of the snow and the chunks ice that have taken up inhabitance on the surface of the Hudson, the faint glimmer that plays off the windows of the skyscrapers in the distance. There’s moments where he’s truly content here; enjoying the change of pace and admiring the vast differences between New York City and home. Today is one of those days; he feels secure in both where he is and WHO he is. A welcomed outsider as opposed to a strange and mysterious interloper. It’s a reminder that home is wherever his heart lies. His wife and his children sound asleep; warm and safe in their beds only blocks away.

SHE’S his heart; the person that came into his life and turned his world upside down and reminded him that he was still very much alive and had so much more living left to do. Showing him -for the first time in thirty five years- what it was like to be TRULY loved; wholly and completely and unconditionally. Someone so bright eyed and light in heart and spirit; managing to love life and everyone in it despite all of the pain and the suffering that they’d been put through. Giving him what he’d hadn’t even realized he needed; a normal life with everything familiar and mundane and domestic that came with it. Someone to wake up to in the morning; a sleepy smile and soft lips against his own, hands reaching for him and a warm body pressing against his. Going to bed with them every night; those remaining conversations that take place in a darkened, quiet room and the intimacy shared and the love and appreciation expressed.

Once more removing his phone from his pocket, he selects a different playlist and jacks the volume up on his headphones; drowning out the world around him and concentrating on nothing but breaking a sweat and pushing his body to its limits.

*****

It’s shortly after seven when he returns to Gramercy Park. Layers of clothing sticking to sweat soaked skin, beanie long discarded and shoved in his pocket; hair damp and sticking up in several different directions. The tips of his ears and his cheeks flushed from both the chill in the air and the effort and energy he’d put into his run; slow and steady at first, then legs and arms pumping as hard and powerfully as they possibly could. He feels invigorated; a level of energy and exuberance that he hasn’t encountered in weeks. Maybe even months. And it’s a welcome change. Feeling healthy AND content at the same time.

Before returning home he stops at the bodega at the end of the street; filling a basket with the various items Tanner had scrawled onto a post-it note he’d found attached to the fridge. The kid never fails to both surprise and amaze him; constantly finding recipes or ‘science experiments’ on the internet and always insisting on trying his hand at them. Forever curious; holding onto that innocence and that joy and wonder for far longer than any of his older siblings ever had. Phenomenally intelligent and talented; teaching himself how to play the guitar and the piano by ear, his paintings and drawings always appearing as if they’re done by someone so much older and possessing an experienced eye. Emotionally mature and wise, but socially lagging; unable to form friendships and constantly feeling awkward surrounded by groups of people and easily overwhelmed by too much activity and noise. Yet so empathetic and compassionate; easily and powerfully feeling other peoples’ emotions and his moods and behaviour dictated by the mere energies people give off when around him.

The bodega owner greets him with a broad smile and a friendly nod when he approaches the counter. A first name and very few details kind of friendship; Frank the sole proprietor and only full time employee since the store’s opening forty years ago. Short and stocky; a headful of curly salt and pepper hair and a thick moustache and a heavy Bronx accent. Both know very little about the other; talk mostly revolving around the weather and current events and Frank’s never ending curiosity about life in Australia and his overwhelming desire to visit and one day retire there.

“Alone today,” Frank comments, and moves to the small coffee bar -nothing more than a handful of machines and containers for milk and cream- behind the register. It’s an understanding between them; Tyler never needing to ask and Frank knowing his standing order. “That doesn’t happen often. Normally you’ve got at least one or two rug rats hanging off ya.”

“Gotta sneak out when I can.” He empties the contents of the basket onto the counter; the latter he stores in the rack at the end of the counter. “How’s business?”

“Quiet. Same thing every Christmas. The elite like to get away. They’re going to where you’re from, and your kind are coming here. Must be quite the culture shock, huh? Going from the sand and the sun to this crap?” It’s a typical conversation starter; the same opening question Tyler’s been asked every single visit for three years running.

“It’s a change, that’s for sure. Can’t say I wouldn’t rather be back in the sand and the sun. But…”

“But the kiddos and the sweetheart like it. I get it. When my daughter moved to Phoenix with her husband about ten years back, she insisted on coming back here every Christmas. Missed the cold and the white shit too much. Who the hell is crazy enough to miss THAT?”

“Wife says it’s the magic of the season. Wants the kids to experience it. White Christmas and all that. And they enjoy it; skating, sledding, snowball fights, all of that crap. If they’re happy, I’m happy.”

“I hear ya there. Makes a man’s life much more easy and relaxed, that’s for sure. If the littles and the wife are happy, things are a lot more pleasant, know what I’m saying?. They all doing well?”

“No complaints. Got spoiled at Christmas, Aunt’s coming to visit today, big brother’s getting married in three days…”

“Busy, busy. Not rest for the weary. How’s that cute little wife of yours?”

“Still little. Still cute.”

“How you holding up? Must be hard being away from home. From what you’re used to.”

“I miss it,” Tyler admits, and nods his appreciation for the coffee that’s set down in front of him; black, no sugar. “It’ll be nice to get back. It’s quieter there. No one really around. Just our own slice of paradise. Private. Just the way I like it.”

“You definitely are a stickler for your privacy, aren’t ya.”

“I’ve got my reasons. For keeping to myself.”

“Just not a people person, huh?”

“I like people. Some don’t like me. It’s better if they keep away. Especially from my family.”

Frank nods in understanding, then begins ringing up and bagging the purchases. “Gotta like a man that will defend and protect his own, no matter what.”

“You do what you gotta do,” Tyler reasons, reaching into the pocket of his hoodie when he feels his cellphone vibrate against him. Eyes narrowing and a frown playing on his lips when he reads the text sent by his wife; complaining about being woken up from a dead sleep by the ‘new nuisance in town’ repeatedly ringing the doorbell.

He was confident they’d seen and heard the last of Natalie. While he’d been grateful for her assistance in the American Girl store during Addie’s disappearance, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wanted nothing more to do with her. His already agitated and guilt stricken mood made even worse but yet another attempt on her part to proposition him; boldly stating in front of other customers and his children and granddaughter that while playing hard to get only made him sexier, it was time to put an end to the games. It was obvious -in her mind- that he was attracted to her and was only holding back out of a sense of loyalty and obligation to the woman who’d given him seven offspring.

The sex would be off the charts, Natalie had whispered in his ear, and brazenly attempted a crotch grab while waiting in line at the register. Not caring about the still sobbing Addie in his arms and tightly clinging to him, or the furious glares that Brookie was shooting in her direction. He hadn’t been kind in his rejection; angrily yanking her hand away with enough force to cause her to wince in pain and for his fingers to bruise the skin around her wrist. And he’d kept his tone low yet forceful when he’d told her to back off; he wouldn’t tolerate blatant disrespect towards his wife, especially in front of two of the children she’d not only hand in creating, but had carried inside of her.

“Bad news?” Frank inquires, and pushes the plastic bags across the counter.

“Something I’d rather NOT be dealing with.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket and checks the total on the register; pulling forty from his wallet and waving off the change when Frank begins to hand it over. “But it’s probably better in my hands that my wife’s.”

“Feisty little thing, ain’t she,” Frank chuckles. “I still remember when she told that one kid off for checking out your one girl. Your oldest. She was over there looking at the magazines, minding her own business, and some fucking high school joker was checking her out and making comments to his buddies. Your wife certainly isn’t afraid to mix things up, is she.”

“You don’t mess with a mumma bear. She’s tiny, but she’ll rip you apart,”

Frank grins, “Bet that makes you toe the line, huh?”

“I long ago learned what buttons NOT to push. She looks all cute and sweet and innocent, but trust me, that girl can fuck someone up. I’ll probably see you later.” He gathers up the bags in one hand, cup of coffee in the other. “TJ and Declan will want to come by. They also do when you get the new Archie comics.”

“Already put two aside from them. Gotta treat my best customers right. And speaking of that privacy you like so much…”

Tyler pauses in the doorway.

“You ain’t gonna like what I have to tell you.”

“Not when you put it like that I won’t.” He once more approaches the register. “What’s going on?”

“Someone’s been in here a few times asking about you. And your family. I meant to tell you yesterday, but you had the girls with you and I didn’t want to bring something up that might spook them or upset them.”

“Someone from the neighbourhood?”

“A newcomer. Some woman. Tall, blond, need a power washer to get all that crap off her face. Why do women do that? Why do they feel the need to smear on the war paint? Looking like damn clowns is what they look like. I don’t want to be stuck in the rain with a girl and turn around and look at her and find damn eyebrows washed away, know what I’m saying? Wake up next to them and all the makeup is gone and you no longer recognize them and you think some strange woman snuck into bed with ya in the middle of the night.”

“What did she want, Frank? What did she want to know?”

“Little questions, mostly. Mostly about you and your wife. How you met, what her name was before she met you, where she’s from originally, family life. That kind of thing. Wanted to know your last name but I told her I had no clue. First names only. That’s the way it’s always been.”

“Ask anything about my kids?”

“Just wanted to know their ages, school grades, stuff like that. I didn't have any info to give her and I told her that much. Also said even if I DID know, I wouldn’t cough it up to her or anyone else. Awful nosey, don’t you think? Trying to get up in a man’s business like that?”

“She’s definitely treading on thin ice. I appreciate it. That you wouldn’t tell her even if you did know that stuff.”

“Ain’t nobody's business what you do with your life. And it especially ain’t none of their concern when it comes to children. That’s just creepy as hell, if you ask me. Think she’s up to no good? Trying to cause trouble? With you and the missus?”

“I don’t know what she’s up to.” He moves towards the door. “I’ll find out though. One way or another. Thanks for letting me know. And for having our backs.”

“You and your family have been nothing but good to me, figure I should return the favour. Let me know how it turns out, would ya? Once you find out just what she’s up to. Inquiring minds want to know, and all.”

“I’ll let you know,” Tyler promises, and uses a forearm to push open the door.

“Hey!” Frank calls to him, and he pauses on the threshold. “What IS your last name?”

“Drummond.” The lie rolls easily off the tongue. Almost TOO easily.

“Tyler Drummond,” Frank nods as he considers it. “Got a nice ring to it. You know, you don’t look like a Tyler.”

“Yeah,” he grins, and steps out the door. “So I’ve been told.”

*****

He finds her in the kitchen. Back turned towards the doorway as she waits for the toaster to finish its cycle; repetitively tapping the end of a butter knife against the granite countertop as her body repeatedly shifts weight from one side to the other. Well known evidence of agitation and simmering anger; body always needing to be in motion, anxiety propelled nervous ‘tics’. She’s been fighting her own battle against mental illness for longer than he’s known her; the years of psychological torment inflicted by her mother -and eventually an emotionally, physically, and sexually abusive husband- leaving wounds far deeper and more punishing than anything his body has ever experienced. Medication and therapy have helped, as has finding her own ‘niche’ in the world beyond just being a wife and a mother; running her own business, a once weekly yoga and meditation class, her own strenuous workout plan that he’d helped her create. She’s always managed well considering; panic and anxiety attacks fairly uncommon and periods of deep and crippling depression far and few between.

While he always admonishes her for taking on too much and throwing herself into caring for others instead of herself, she swears that it helps; keeping her mind and her body occupied and not giving her a chance to sit still for too long and dwell on things. He’s sure there’s some PTSD in there. The incident on the Sultana Kamal Bridge still weighs heavily on her; unable to sit down and talk about it without having an emotional meltdown and suffering from the occasional night terror. But she always shrugs off the idea of additional help and supports; insisting she’s fine and just needs to keep busy and that things will pass. They always do. And even though she’s infamous for calling him the most stubborn human on the planet, he’s pretty sure that it’s HER that actually holds that title.

Per Tanner’s written instructions, he leaves the bodega purchases in their bags; carrying them into the pantry and placing them in a plastic tote box marked with his son’s name. The ten year old very particular and detail oriented; extremely neat and tidy and having his own anxiety attacks if anyone dares to upset his ebb and flow. For his seventh birthday, the only gifts he’d requested were a label maker and over two dozen food storage containers; adamant that those were the only things he wanted and didn’t care about the idea of a new bike or surfboard or the latest gaming system. Less than twenty four hours after receiving what he so desperately coveted, he’d used them to reorganize the pantry at home; everything stored in plastic containers and labelled appropriately and throwing a fit if anyone didn’t alphabetical order when putting things back on the shelves. THAT had prompted them to finally seek out a diagnosis for him. They had suspected it for years; Tanner sitting some place on the Autism spectrum. Yet it had still been hard to hear the words come out of the specialist’s mouth; fear and worry and concerns for his future flooding through them as they saw the words neatly printed out in their son’s medical chart.

“Everyone still asleep?” he inquires, as he finally approaches. Standing behind her with his hands on her hips; lips meeting the top of her head as his fingers gently knead the supple flesh. Even when -uncharacteristically- grumpy first thing in the morning, she is always at her most adorable; hair messy and face still puffy from sleep, petite frame clad in her infamous mismatched pyjamas. Today it’s a pair of scrubs with the word Columbia printed across the ass and a faded and tattered t-shirt from his side of the closet; miles too big on her yet somehow sexy at the same time.

“Thankfully. Takota woke up in a panic; the doorbell scared the ever loving shit out of him. You know how it is; things always seem a thousand times louder when you’re asleep. I cuddled with him for a bit; he’s passed out in the middle of our bed now.”

Draping an arm across her collarbone, he presses a kiss to her temple, then watches in amusement as she tends to the toasted bagel now sitting on the plate in front of her; putting enough force behind buttering it that the knife pierces the toast.

“You know…” his lips rest against the side of her head. “...you’re not supposed to stab the damn thing.”

“Better to stab this than walk down the street and stab that bitch in the fucking face,” she reasons. “I don’t think I’m in the position in my life where it would be a good idea to go to prison.”

“Definitely wouldn’t be ideal at this point and time. Not to mention you always complain about how shitty you look in orange. So how about we NOT stab anyone and try to rein in our homicidal tendencies?” Reaching around her, he wrenches the knife out of her shockingly tight and strong grip; completing the preparation of the bagel for her.

She tips her head back to look at him, smiling in appreciation. “I’m mad.”

“I can see that.”

“What is that woman’s major malfunction? Why is she so goddamn insistent on seeing you? I mean, I know you’re hot and the walking and breathing definition of masculinity and you’re enough to make even the old ladies all weak in the knees, but fuck…” she turns around to face him; plate in her hand as she leans back against the counter. “...she is WAY worse than any thirsty females on the playground or at the soccer park.”

“She’s something else alright.” He moves to the kettle boiling on the stove; snagging a clean mug from the drainboard by the sink and a tea bag from a canister on the counter.

“To show up here at all is a dumb ass thing to do. But at seven in the morning? Knowing there’s a house full of littles here? She has a kid of her own. I doubt she’d like if someone popped up on her doorstep and woke her crotch fruit up.”

“I don’t think she gives a shit, Me. About our kids OR her own.”

“She treats that kid like a goddamn accessory. Have you seen the way she dresses that little girl? Fur coats and Gucci and Chanel, a freaking bracelet and earrings from Tiffany’s. The kid even carries a bloody Birkin bag! She’s six! What the hell kind of parent buys stuff like that for ANY kid? Never mind a six year old.”

“A person with money to burn apparently.”

“WE have money to burn. And then some. Our kids wear clothes from Target. The occasional UnderArmour or Nike swag here or there. Most expensive thing on them is their shoes. And not even THOSE are over a hundred bucks.”

“Millie does have that expensive purse,” he points out, as he stands in front of the open fridge door and snags a carton of milk; dumping the preferred and required amount into the steaming mug of tea. “The pink one.”

“The Chanel. Yes, she does have that. And you know why she does? Because when Millie says ‘daddy, I really like that’, daddy goes ahead and buys it for her and doesn’t even bother to check the make or the price tag. That is SOLELY on you.”

“Daddy likes to spoil his girls,” he reasons, offering the mug as he rejoins her. “Especially the oldest one.”

“Millie always HAS been your favourite.”

“I meant YOU,” he presses a chaste peck to her lips when she turns her face up towards him. “Not Millie. I spoil you way more than I spoil any of those kids.”

“And how many times have you been told NOT to?”

“Way too many to count. How many times have I told you that I don’t give a shit what you say and that I’m going to keep on doing it?”

Smirking, she rips a piece of bagel off with her teeth. “Touche.”

“What did she want?” He stands next to her, palms resting on the edge of the counter. “The nuisance?”

“To be just that. A nuisance. I kept telling her you weren’t home. That you’d gone out for a bit. She wasn’t having any of it. Insisted that I was lying and accused me of being jealous and possessive and told me that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep you away from her. Something about 'you can’t stop what the heart AND the body want'.”

He gives a derisive snort.

“I don’t know. By that point I had already tuned out and was fantasizing about how I was going to kill her and dispose of her body. What the hell is her issue? I get that she has a raging female boner for you and in all fairness, I don’t blame her. But that woman is coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs. And I don’t use that term lightly. I save that for the REALLY crazy ones.”

“Did she say what she wanted? Why she even came over here?”

“You mean other than to jump on your dick? Or to convince me that you and her have some undeniable sexual chemistry and that you’re reluctant to leave me because I’m clingy and needy and have trapped you with half a dozen kids? Plus one.”

“She said that?”

“Every last word. Apparently you and her have really hit it off. There’s some kind of powerful and potent sexual and emotional connection between the two of you. News to me.”

“She’s fucking delusional. You realize that, yeah?”

“Big time delusional. I know what you’re like. I know how much you love me and your kids; how you’re unwaveringly faithful and loyal. I’ve never doubted any of that. I’ve never had a reason to. If you wanted out, you would have left a long time ago. You’ve had your chances.”

“I don’t want out. I’m all in. I’ve been all in for twelve and half years. I’m all in for the rest of my life. So sorry, Me. You’re stuck with me. Until the bitter end.”

“I can think of worse fates. But what the hell is her problem? Who does shit like this? Calling on another woman’s husband? Making up bullshit like that? Trying to cause problems between people?”

“A crazy person, that’s who. That’s all she wanted? To see me?”

“To give you Addie’s mitts back. I guess she left them at the American Girl store and crazy lady picked them up. Couldn’t she just leave them in the mailbox instead of showing up and ringing the doorbell at seven in the morning? Is that NOT what a normal person would do?”

“I think we’ve already established that she’s NOT normal.”

“You didn’t tell me she was there yesterday,” Esme sips at her tea. “At the American Girl place.”

“I thought I did.”

“That’s my sworn enemy. I would definitely remember if you told me something like that.”

Tyler shrugs. “Guess it just slipped my mind with everything else that was going. With Addie flipping out and me feeling like shit for losing it on her, telling you about the neighbour wasn’t the first thing on my agenda. I probably should have, but…”

“So she just happened to be there? At the American Girl lunch?”

“Yup. Showed up with her kid.”

“Kind of a coincidence, don’t you think? That she’d be there on the EXACT same day? I don’t mean to go all paranoid and possessive and jealous wife, but…”

“You’re not paranoid. And aren’t we all a little possessive? And jealous? When we love someone? I’m that way with you. I don’t like guys checking you out and making comments towards you and all that. And if that makes me possessive and jealous…” shrugging, he reaches for her tea and takes a sip.

“This woman has serious issues, Tyler. She’s nuts. Certifiably, I think. Didn’t you already tell her to leave you alone? That you’re married? Happily?”

“More than once.”

“Does she not realize some men actually DO value the sanctity of marriage? Mind you, it doesn’t seem like many these days, but still.”

“I don’t think that’s the kind of married men she’s used to, Me. I don’t think I fit HER definition of a married man. And it’s not for the lack of trying to scare her off. I’ve tried. Several times. Doesn’t seem to be getting through.”

“She’s persistent, I’ll give her that. Still, I don’t like someone pissing in my front yard. Continuously. Seems awful weird; her somehow showing up nearly everywhere you go. I can see the park being a one off; she was new to the community, saw a parent there and took it upon herself to try and make friends. But everything else? When you took the kids for lunch, when you and I were on our date; we SAW her watching us from her living room window. She didn’t hide it.”

“That was a little...odd,” Tyler admits.

“And how many times has she suddenly popped into the bodega when you’ve been there with the boys?”

“I’d say nine times out of ten.”

“That’s way too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

“I do think that. I also think we need to talk about it. About all of this.”

“Oh God…” she grimaces. “...you ARE leaving me for her.”

“What?” He can’t help but laugh. “No, baby. NO. I am definitely NOT leaving you for her. For ANYONE. I already told you; I’m in this right to the end. Whenever that may be. There’s no one else, Me.” Draping an arm across her shoulders, he pulls her into him; lips meeting her temple and lingering for several seconds. “There’s just you. There’s always just been just you. Always will be.”

“And we need to talk about her because…”

“Because there’s more going on than you realize. More than just her showing up places.”

Esme frowns, mug poised at her lips. “Uh oh. I don’t think I like the sound of that.”

“Believe me, I don’t like it either. What’s going. But you’re right; that woman definitely DOES have issues.”

“Other than being a stalker you mean?”

“I don’t know EXACTLY what’s going on. Or how serious it is. But I don’t like it. What she’s up to.”

“And coming from someone with your instincts and your background? That’s saying something. Do I need to worry about it? Is it something we need to really watch out for and take seriously and…?”

"I honestly don't know, babe. But she knows stuff. About us. She somehow knows our name. Called me by first AND last yesterday. I've never told her what it is. And I highly doubt you did."

“I want to stab the woman in the face with a butter knife, so I think it's safe to say I’m NOT going to be out there telling her personal things. How WOULD she find that out? It’s not like it’s advertised anywhere. Frank doesn’t know it, Desi wouldn’t say anything.”

“She tried to blame TJ. Said she talked to him when he was out shovelling snow and that he coughed up the info. I confronted him and he denied it. Said that she DID stop to talk to him and all he told her was his first name. That’s it. Told me he knows better than that; not to tell strangers much about us.”

“TJ doesn’t lie. Not since he got caught...on camera...denting your truck and trying to tell me that it wasn’t him. He learned his lesson, believe me. And out of all the kids who would be a blabber mouth? He’s the last one. He idolizes you. The last thing he wants to do is piss you off or disappoint you. So when you tell him what to do or what NOT to do, he listens.”

“So how did she know? If neither of us told her and Desi didn’t say anything and we know it’s not TJ…”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t been around any of the other kids. They’d all say something. They’d tell us if she was asking questions.”

“She had to find out from somewhere. Someone had to tell her. It’s not like that info is just out there for anyone to look up. You don’t even use a real last name on the internet. We’ve been careful. We locked everything down five years ago. Made sure people couldn’t find shit out. But somehow…”

Sighing heavily, she carries her empty mug and dirty plate to the sink, then rejoins him; standing between his legs with her hands on his hips. “Do you think it's something serious? Something we need to worry about?”

“Are you asking me if I think she’s a threat?”

Esme nods.

“I don’t get that feeling from her. I don’t think she’s the type that gets her hands dirty. More the type that aids the person that does.”

“That sounds familiar. I distinctly remember someone else who used to do exactly that.”

“Let’s not compare the two of you. You’re nothing alike.”

“I used to help people get their hands dirty. I used to ask all the questions and find out all the info and then pass it along to guys like you. Sounds like she might be into the same kind of thing. Have you looked into her? Find out anything about her?”

“Not much to find out. Couple things here and there but nothing serious. I know she used to be in a relationship with the District Attorney in Chicago. There was a write up about it; the two of them at some charity event a few years back.”

“Is he the ex husband?”

“If he is…” he tucks her hair behind her ears, then cradles her face in his palms; thumbs repeatedly brushing against her cheeks. “...she’s never gone by his last name. I checked into that, too.”

“Maybe try Nik. She’s got a real knack of finding things about people. Things they’ve long kept buried. I’m sure she’d look into it. Probably have better luck than you.”

“If it comes to that, I’ll go in that direction. But I was thinking…”

She smirks. “I don’t think I like the way you said that...”

“...that if you still had any of your old contacts….”

“My old contacts? I haven’t spoken to any of them in years. Not since the whole fuck up with Nathan and the fake papers from the Marines. I haven’t talked to any of those people since.”

“What about people in the game? That you worked for BEFORE Nik? You ever talk to any of them?”

“There’s a couple I interact once in a while but mostly about non job related stuff. Just random checking in on each other and seeing how our lives are going. You’re not serious about this, are you? About wanting ME to try and find things out? I haven’t had a finger on that particular pulse in a long time.”

“The circle’s pretty tight,” Tyler reasons. “Once you’re in it, you’re never really out of it. There’s guys I haven’t talked to in years but I know I could call if I needed a favour. Maybe you’ve got a couple of those too. People that would do you a solid if you needed them to.”

“I thought we agreed that I’d put that part of my life behind me? We talked about this. After I royally messed things up by not realizing those papers sent to me were fake. I mean, it’s practically my fault that Nathan managed to get a hold of you in the first place.”

“Okay, we’re NOT going to go there. Because none of that is true. It happened. There’s no one to blame. He knew he couldn’t take me in a fair fight. Knew he had to get me from behind. Take me down.”

“And he wouldn’t have been able to had I NOT called you. Had I realized those papers weren’t the real deal, you never would have gone there and confronted him. We would have waited for the legit documents and you would have known how unstable he was. Instead, I just sent you in there and…”

“Let’s get one thing straight. You didn’t do anything. I went in there on my own. It was my choice. I had the chance; to walk away and leave him there. And I didn’t. I went back in. You had nothing to do with it.”

“If I’d known about the papers…”

“YOU had nothing to do with it,” he repeats. “There was no way you could have known what we were dealing with. Same way I couldn’t have known. It happened. Nathan did what he did.”

“Yeah, and you almost died. Because I was careless and…”

“Stop,” he presses a kiss to her lips in order to silence. “We are NOT going to talk about him. Nothing good ever comes out of talking about that asshole. So can we not? Bring him up? Can we let this go?”

“I just…”

“Drop it,” he orders, and then pecks the tip of her nose. “Please.”

“All I’m saying is…”

“Oh my god, woman. Stop.” Placing a kiss to her forehead, he gathers her into his arms; pulling her tightly into him, hands locking together at the small of her back. “We’re not going to talk about this. Five years ago. It never leads to anything good. And I really do not feel like fighting with you. Not after the night we had last night.”

Smiling, she wraps both arms around his waist. “It was a good night.”

“A very good night.” He drops a kiss on the top of her head. “You were fucking incredible.”

“I was, was I?” She looks up at him, bottom of her chin resting on his chest. “You weren’t too shabby either. You know how to raise the bar impossibly high, I’ll tell you that much. And that whole thing in the tub? We need to do that again. ASAP.”

“Thought you didn’t enjoy it. You were practically having a temper tantrum.”

“I was frustrated. Do you know that aggravating it is? Getting that close and having someone just yank the carpet out from under you? Do you have any idea how maddening that is?”

“Actually, I do. You’ve done it to me. Many times. But if you want to do it again…”

“I do. There’s a lot of things I want to do again. And again. And again. With you.”

“Baby, I aim to please.”

“And you do. Very well, as a matter of fact. Even though I am still slightly embarrassed by my reaction. You know, when I…in the tub...when you…”

“When I made you squirt?” He chuckles when she gives an embarrassed groan and buries her face in his shirt. “Why does that make you all shy and shit? I’m the last person you should be embarrassed around. We’ve been doing some dirty shit since day one. You think you would have stopped getting embarrassed a long time ago. I’ve only been your husband for twelve and a half years.”

“It’s just so...I don’t know...gross.”

“Gross? It’s fucking hot. It’s a turn on. Knowing I can make you do THAT? It doesn’t happen often; you getting THAT worked up.”

“Well I guess you need to try harder,” she teases, and gives a yelp when he brings both palms down onto her ass in ringing slaps and then squeezes tightly. “I have to say, husband. You really are a man among men. I definitely hit the jackpot when I landed you. Smartest thing I ever did; letting you put a ring on it.”

“Even though you didn’t want to marry me at first?”

“For the record…” her hands move to his sides, softly and repeatedly moving over his ribs. “...I never said I didn’t want to marry you. I said I was scared to get married again. That I was worried we were going to fuck things up. And I loved you and I didn’t want us to fuck them up. We both had pretty bad track records when it came to marriage.”

“That’s because we both married the wrong people the first time around.”

“I was just scared. I didn’t want things to go bad between us. Not when they already seemed so good. And if that meant staying the happily unmarried couple…”

“But I wasn’t okay with that. I wanted to get married. To you. And before you ask? No. Not because you were having Millie. She had nothing to do with it. I would have wanted to marry you even if there hadn’t been a baby. But I’m glad there was. She’s pretty awesome. They all are.”

“Yeah,” she smiles up at him. “They are. We’ve done good work, Tae. We definitely make some pretty damn beautiful babies. And it’s kind of sad; that there won’t be anymore. Kind of bittersweet. But I think it’s time for us, don’t you? Time for you and I to concentrate on each other for a change. I don’t want that to be all there is to us. Two people raising kids together.”

“There’s way too much between us for it to ever be just that,” he assures her. Laying a hand on the small of her back, he once more pulls her tightly into him; fingers of his other hand biting into the cheek of her ass when he covers her mouth with his.

The kiss is long and soft and slow; her arms wrapping around his waist as she stands on the top of his feet in order to give her that little bit of extra height. Her lips moving against his in perfect unison; moulding and fitting together in ways he’d never experienced with anyone else before. Bodies so in sync with each other; always so responsive and eager.

“I have another favour to ask,” he says when he pulls away, hands settling on her hips.

“You keep kissing me like that?” Her eyes are still closed as she sighs heavily and dreamily. “ For the rest of my life? You can ask as many favours as you want.”

“I don’t want you causing issues with Riley. Over the fentanyl.”

Her eyes snap open; a frown curving her lips as she looks up at him.

“She didn’t give it to me with bad intentions. It wasn’t like she was hooking me up with a fix. That’s not what I wanted it for. It had nothing to do with being an addict and everything to do with the pain I was in. I had screwed that knee up and it was going to be months before they could do another reconstruction and I couldn’t take much more. That’s how bad it was. How bad I was suffering. And I knew the doctor wouldn’t give me anything else. That he’d think I was just drug seeking; in it to get a high.”

“So you asked her.”

“I couldn’t ask Ovi. I knew he’d tell you. And I didn’t want him getting caught and his whole career going down the toilet before it even started. So when Riley came up here that summer, I asked her for something stronger. To hook me up with something that could help. And she put up a good fight; she wasn’t going to go give in. I’m the one who convinced her to. Promised I’d only use it when necessary.”

“And did you? Use it just when necessary?”

“Only when the pain got to be too much. She gave me enough pills to last a couple months. I only took eight. In the two weeks we were here. That’s it. When we were ready to go back home, I put them in the medicine cabinet and never thought about them again.”

“Until the other night.”

Tyler nods. “It scared the fuck out of me, Esme. How easy it was to take to them. To remember they were even there. I didn’t even give it a second thought. I just grabbed them and took them. No hesitation.”

“You realize how badly that could have gone, right? You don’t play around with that stuff, Tyler. That is some heavy duty shit and you just went ahead and took six of them and…”

“Not one of my finer moments.”

“It could have killed you. That many. You know that, right? It could have killed you. Did you even stop to think about that? About what would happen? How I’d find you dead? On Christmas morning? Did that even occur to you?”

“No,” he admits. “And that’s what scared me. The fact I didn’t think of any of that. That I just took the stuff. Like I’d done it a million times before.”

“Did you WANT something bad to happen?”

“No, babe. I didn’t. I just needed to shut my brain up. I just needed to get away from it. I needed peace and fucking quiet. An escape. From what goes on in my head.”

“I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be one hundred percent honest with me. No matter how hard it will be for me to hear or how bad you think it will hurt me. I need you to tell me the truth. Can you do that? Be honest with me?”

“I can.”

“Do you want to die? Right now. Right this second. Is that what your brain is telling you? Is that what it’s BEEN telling you? That it would be better if you weren’t here? That my life and the kids’ lives would somehow be better if you weren’t around anymore? Has it been telling you that?”

“How did we get onto this? I was just asking you not to go off on Riley. That she was only trying to help and…”

“Please don’t do that. Deflect. I’m scared too. It frightens me that you found it so easy to take those pills. That you didn’t even stop to think of what could happen. How it could have killed you and what that would have done to me. And the kids. That isn’t like you; you weigh options and you analyze every scenario and you consider every possible consequence. So I need to know. Did you take those pills because your brain is telling you that you’re better off dead?”

“Esme…”

“Tyler…” her voice cracks with emotion and she valiantly fights back against a flood of threatening tears. “...I need you to tell me the truth. I need to know exactly what we’re dealing with here. I need to know just how serious this is. I need you to tell me what’s REALLY going on in your head. So we can get past this and figure shit out and work on how to help you.

“I don’t…”

“I know you’re just trying to protect me. And believe me, I love you so much for that. The fact you’ve always protected me. No matter what. But right now I need to know the truth. Or we won’t get past this. Do you want to die?”

He swallows heavily. “Sometimes.”

“When was the last time you thought of it? When you felt that way?”

“Couple days ago.”

She briefly looks away in an attempt to control her emotions. “That night you took the fentanyl? Did you want to die then?”

He nods.

“Jesus….” she rakes a hand through her hair, then places it over her mouth; tears managing to escape. “...I mean, I was pretty sure you were going to say yes. We’ve been in this place before. I’ve taken a loaded gun out of your hand, for crying out loud. But to actually hear it…”

“I’m sorry, Me. I’m sorry that my brain is the way it is. I am so fucking sorry.”

“I know you can’t help it. I know it’s an illness and I know first hand how bad it can get. But I just…” she takes a deep, quivering breath and slowly releases it. “....I need to go and get some air or something. I need to just get out and get my shit together. I need…”

“Baby….” he attempts to move his hands to her shoulders, but is foiled when she takes a step backwards.

“I need to get out of here. Just for an hour. Just to clear my head and accept this and figure out a way to deal with it. It’s not you, Tyler. You realize that, right? Please tell me you realize that.”

“I do. I do realize that.”

“I just don’t know how much more I can take,” she admits. “I am so close to breaking and if that happens, I won’t be of any use to you. Or the kids. I just need some fresh air and a chance to get myself together and come to terms with this. With just how bad it actually is. Can you give me that? Just that little bit of time?”

“Of course I can.”

“It’s not you,” she repeats, and moves closer to him. Once more perching herself on top of his feet; both arms reaching up to circle his neck. “I need you to know it’s not you.”

“I know that, Me.” He cradles her face in his palms; fingers gently brushing away the tears that glisten on her face. “Just tell me you’re coming back. That you’re not just going to walk out of here and leave me and our kids. Tell me…”

“I’m not leaving you. Or them. I just need some time. An hour, even. Just to get my shit together. Just to sort through all of this stuff in my head. I’m not going anywhere, Tyler. I’m not walking away from you. From our family. From US. That isn’t even an option.”

“I’m just worried you’re going to walk out and realize it’s just too much. That I’M too much.”

“That’s not going to happen,” she assures him. “I love you. My whole world begins and ends with you. I need to be able to help you. And right now? I don’t think I can. I feel like I'm drowning. Or like I’m walking on really thin ice and one bad step is just going to pull me under. And I need to be okay. I need to be strong. For you.”

“I need you to be strong for YOURSELF. Why haven’t you told me any of this? About how you’re feeling? Being this close to the edge? Why…?”

“Not right now, okay? I’m going to go and get dressed and get some air. And when I come back, we’ll talk. We’ll get TJ and Millie and Alannah to watch everyone and we’ll sit down and talk. Get it all out in the open. BEFORE Riley gets here. I’m coming home, you know. It’s not like I’m disappearing off the face of the earth. I WILL be back.”

“And I’ll be here. No matter long how it takes.”

“An hour,” she promises, and turns her face up to his when he leans down to kiss her. “I didn’t lose you to Dhaka,” she says, and places her hands over his; eyes closing as his lips press against her forehead. “And I sure as hell won’t lose you to your own mind.”

#Tyler Rake #Tyler Rake fan fiction #Extraction fan fiction #Extraction fan fic #Chris Hemsworth #Chris Hemsworth Tyler Rake #Chris Hemsworth Extraction

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slowcrazydeath-blog · 7 years

Text

A Little Solangelo Valentines Angst

This is my present for @patroklosandachilles for the @pjodiscordserverchronicles Valentine’s Day gift exchange. It’s a bit long, and it’s just a Solangelo angst titled A Twisted Kind of Valentine. The whole thing is under the cut. 5255 words

Happy Valentine’s Day!

It was snowing. It rarely snowed in camp, but nobody stopped it from falling. The flakes danced around solemn faces, melting on warm skin, collecting on a chilled face. A gloved hand reached out and brushed the white from the body’s lips and eyes, which were slightly blue from the cold. The face belonging to the hand bent down and placed his forehead to the other boy’s, dark hair intertwining with gold. Then he lifted up and backed away. Chiron stepped forward slowly, his hooves making light tracks in the snow, and lit the casket to a bonfire. The snowflakes melted as they approached and evaporated, covering the campers in steam, warming their red noses. Eyes were filled with tears, and they began to fall.

“Oh come on, you can’t mean that,” Will pouted.

“Yes, I do. I do not want to see you at all today,” Nico said back, not giving his boyfriend a glance.

“C’mon Neeks, can you at least tell me why?” Will was a bit hurt, and grabbed Nico’s shoulder from behind.

“Nope,” he said curtley, and walked away, leaving his boyfriend at the infirmary alone.

He walked past the camp and into the strawberry fields. He stopped, and turned around to make sure that nobody had followed him. When he saw that the coast was clear, the bent down to the nearest bush and picked some of the fresh berries from their stems, and collected them in a satchel he had at his waist. When he had picked enough, he got up and walked back to the Hades cabin.

Will had helped Nico redecorate the interior so it felt more homey and not nearly as dark and gloomy as it had before. He had windows that allowed sunlight to stream in. He had a couch and a bookshelf, even though he barely had any books. His bed had two comforters, and three pillows, and he had a desk with some basic books on modern life and school subjects, though he only opened them when Will wanted to help him learn more.

Nico went over to the coffee table in front of the couch, and put the bag down. He went to the bathroom that now looked like a normal bathroom with a cream-colored shower curtain rather than completely black (which wasn’t good when he wanted to take a shower and couldn’t see anything), and he reached under the sink where he’d hid a bowl and chocolate mix. He poured water in the bowl and grabbed a spoon he’d also hidden. He took the items out to the coffee table and mixed the chocolate until it was smooth. He dipped the strawberries in one at a time, then placed them onto the center-plate in a circle starting from the center and making rings outward to dry.

Once they were all coated, he licked the bowl clean, and grabbed a pencil and paper from his desk. He drew the shape of a heart, filling most of the paper, and then cut it out with a pair of red scissors. There was a pink highlighter amid the stationary that Nico had never dared to touch, but he uncapped it and colored in the heart. Some of the ink spilled onto the desk, which he was worried about, but after scrubbing it with a damp towel, the pink lifted off of the varnished wood. After he dried the table, he wrote on the dreadfully pink heart in black ink,

Roses are red,

Violets are blue,

I will never love somebody

The way I love you

He signed it; Love, Nico, and drew a mini heart to the side of the poem. He stopped and smiled a moment, then folded it and stuck the valentine in his pocket. The chocolate was done drying, and Nico carefully lifted each strawberry and placed them into the now-clean bowl. He left them there for the time being, and went out for lunch.

Will was left saddened and dejected in front of the infirmary, but it wasn’t long before a camper had hurt themselves and seeking out Will’s help. It was merely a scratch, but Will went a little extra in wrapping it up because he had nothing better to do. The camper was slightly annoyed, but could tell that Will was upset, so they let him do as he pleased.

After that, Will went over to the window and placed his arms on the windowsill, then lowered his head into them, watching the campers fool around outside. They reminded him of his old siblings who would run around and play tag when it was warm out, and he would join them. But then his mother died and his father kicked him out. Will didn’t know it at the time, but his mother had cheated on her husband with Apollo while he was gone on a business trip. When she told him that she was pregnant, it didn’t take long for him to figure out what she had done. He’d only been supporting them because she was his kids’ mother, and Will was her son. But he never acknowledged Will as his son, so it was to the streets after she lost the fight to cancer.

A satyr had found him and brought him to camp quickly. He was one of the lucky ones. He couldn’t help knowing that they would all die young in the back of his mind, so he enjoyed watching the campers live their lives to the fullest, especially the year-rounders. Some had been kicked out like him, some ran away like Annabeth, and some didn’t have any family to go home to. But they were all here, able to live safely in Camp Half-blood, and he was thankful for that every day.

He picked his head up and walked over to one of the beds, and flopped down onto it, facing the ceiling. He’d met Nico before the battle, but he only really got to know him when he came back after the confrontation with the Romans. It only took a little while for Will’s feelings to be reciprocated in the infirmary. It was sudden, and Will blushed so much he could barely hear anything and his face felt like it was on fire. He wasn’t expecting his crush to feel the same way, and he supposed that Nico didn’t think that either, but one day it just slipped out of his mouth after he got hurt in a camp activity.

“Maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so often if you face wasn’t so stupidly handsome,” he’d said, then his eyes went wide when he’d realized what he’d said and his face turned as bright as a cherry.

Will found it cute, but he was just so overjoyed that he didn’t remember what had happened next, but after Nico left, Kayla said, “So when’s the wedding?”

“Oh shut up,” he’d said, but he knew that he must have done something stupid, and avoided Nico as much as possible until Nico had confronted him about it. Then they started “dating” and they were boyfriends.

Will still didn’t know what had happened, but clearly it wasn’t something extreme. Now he felt that he’d done something stupid again, but now Nico was avoiding him. He didn’t like being avoided, and he wanted to know what he did wrong, so he resolved to find Nico and ask him.

Nico had said that he didn’t want to see Will at all that day, but he didn’t expect Will to not even show up for meals. He went over to the Apollo table and asked them if they’d seen Will at all.

“Sorry, man, haven’t seen him. Should we go search?” Austin asked, though clearly nobody was overly concerned. It wasn’t very unusual for a camper to not show up for lunch as it was more of an optional meal.

“No, thanks. He’s probably busy researching or something,” though Nico knew that it wasn’t the likely case. He sighed and sauntered back over to his table, though he was no longer hungry.

He walked away after a minute or two of not eating and went to the infirmary, but there was a sign on the door that read “Out to Lunch” which was just a phrase to say that there wasn’t anybody there, but he sighed “No you aren’t” regardless. He checked the Apollo cabin quickly, though he knew that Will wouldn’t be there. He wandered the whole camp looking for him, then found himself back in the strawberry fields, the last place to search. He walked forward, and was startled to see that the plants were slightly wilted when they had been healthy that morning.

His hand grabbed the sword in its hilt out of reflex, and he carefully made his way around the bushes. He found nobody around, and accidentally stepped outside of the magic shield. It turned cold, and he felt like he had just walked out of a sauna with the temperature difference. His boots sunk in the snow, and goosebumps covered his arms. His breath came out in clouds, and he stumbled completely out of the protective field. When he looked back, he only saw more forest and snow, the camp nowhere in sight.

He walked forward, expecting to find himself back in the warm camp, but he just made more footprints in the snow. His nerves went on red-alert, and he scanned the area for predators. All was silent, a silence that made the world feel empty and lifeless. He couldn’t even hear his own existence. He reached up to his ears, and felt the warmth of his own blood. He was deaf, and alone in a forest where monsters could be lurking. He was also freezing.

A dark figure passed in his vision, and he turned to try and track it, but he lost it. He kept his eyes peeled and stayed in a fighting stance with his sword drawn, ready for anything to come at him. A gust of wind blew his dark hair in front of his eyes, but the darkness didn’t go away. He was blind. He reached out with his powers to try and find a life force somewhere, but came up with nothing. He shadow-travelled out of the forest, picturing Camp Half-blood, but he was unconscious before he could find where he’d landed

Will returned to the infirmary exhausted, having scoured the whole camp. He took down his sign, and realized that he’d forgotten lunch. It was too late for him to do anything about it now, so he grabbed one of his reserve snacks for late nights. He sighed and sat back in a chair and munched on his granola bar, then he looked up and spotted Nico lying on a cot. He shot up from his chair and ran over to him. He was unconscious and his ears were bleeding. He got the blood out and inspected Nico’s ears, and found that they were completely broken inside. He turned Nico from a sideways position into being seated upright, and grabbed a bottle of Gatorade from the fridge.

He tried shaking Nico awake, and he groaned a bit as his head tipped to one side. “Neeks, Neeks, can you hear me?” When he didn’t get a reply, he patted Nico’s face until he was attentive, and he shot forward and grabbed Will’s arm tightly, making Will yelp. “Neeks, it’s me, Will. Open your eyes,” he pleaded. He grabbed Nico’s hand with his free arm, and Nico seemed to back off a little.

Nico opened his mouth and made a small noise, then closed it again. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but Nico reached up and grabbed his own face and began to shove his index fingers in his ears until Will pulled them out. Then he went for his eyes, but he still didn’t open them. Will grabbed his hands before he pressed his eyelids, and let Nico’s arms gently fall to his lap. Will very carefully touched Nico’s cheeks, then gently placed his thumbs on Nico’s eyelids, and when Nico didn’t respond, he slowly began to lift the skin on one of his eyes.

His iris was still a dark chocolatey color, but it seemed glossed over and didn’t reflect light, but rather seemed to absorb it in a haze. When Will let go, the skin drooped right back over his pupil. Nico still seemed tense, so Will thought of the only way that he could let Nico know that he was with Will, and pecked his cheek gently. Nico instantly relaxed, and reached up to where Will’s lips had landed. He then tried to speak again, and he said “Will,” though it was slurred so that it was barely understandable.

Will grabbed Nico’s hand and started making circles on the back of it, then lifted Nico’s hand to his forehead. Nico then moved his wrist so Will would let go, then brushed his cheek and kept his hand there, his palm cupping Will’s heating cheek. He leaned forward and kissed Will where his thumb lie. When he gently moved back, Will could see that his eyes were watering. Will brushed the tears from his eyelashes, then moved forward and hugged him.

They remained there for a few moments, holding each other, tears falling down their faces. Nico was howling, but Will just let him and rubbed his back, knowing that he probably didn’t even know how loud he was being. Kayla came in to see what was going on, but when she saw Nico crying, she just sat down at the cot closest to the entrance. Will kindly pushed Nico away, and reached for the gatorade on the table next to them. Feeling the movement that Will was getting off the bed, Nico grabbed his arm, then was relieved when he sat back down. Will opened the bottle, then grabbed Nico’s hand and put the bottle in his palm so Nico would clasp it.

Nico brought the bottle to his lips, dribbled a little, but began drinking it. He had to stop frequently because his throat was caught from crying, but he slowly made his way through. Kayla brought Will a towel to clean up the spilled drink, and was slightly offset when Will spoke to her, “Please bring Chiron here,” because nobody had said a word for so long, and Nico didn’t seem to react in the slightest. She nodded and did as he asked.

Will helped Nico move so he was sitting with his legs over the side of the bed, and remained next to him. Chiron came in shortly after they were situated.

“What happened?” He asked, full of concern.

“I don’t know. He was here when I walked in, and he had lost his sight and hearing,” Will responded wearily. He was almost spent having wandered the camp and then having Nico suddenly appear blind and deaf and them both crying.

Chiron moved to grab Nico’s hand, but Nico flinched away. Will slid his hand under Nico’s then brought it up as though offering it to Chiron to show that it was okay. Chiron bent down and let Nico touch his beard, showing who it was because Chiron was the only one at camp with a beard. He shook Nico’s hand firmly to show that things were under control and they would find a way to fix this.

Chiron said, “I’m afraid if we don’t know the circumstances I cannot do anything. Whatever happens next is up to you.”

Will nodded and said, “I understand.”

Chiron left the infirmary and Kayla walked forward from her place by the entrance. “Will you be okay?” She asked.

“You know he can’t hear you, right?” Will responded.

“I wasn’t talking to him,” she said, then sat down next to Will. Nico fidgeted a little, then sat still, holding Will’s hand.

Will turned over to Kayla. “No,” he confessed. He started to cry again, but took breaths to stop himself.

“Hey, it’s okay to cry. It’s a frustrating situation, I know.”

“Yeah, except crying does nothing to fix the situation, no matter how frustrating. I don’t even know what did this to him, let alone how to fix it.”

Suddenly Leo and Calypso bursted through the door. “What’s going on? What happened? Is he okay? What can I do?” Leo spat, practically running over to them.

“Well, for starters, you could stop asking so many questions,” Kayla responded, then said, “We don’t know how this happened, but he’s deaf and blind, but otherwise he’s fine.”

Calypso stood awkwardly behind Leo, clearly uncomfortable. It was understandable, since she was still just getting used to being around other people again. She always seemed to be putting on a performance, but when she clearly wasn’t the main character, she didn’t seem to know what to do.

Nico reached out, aware of their presence, and Calypso grabbed Nico’s wrist before Leo, and bent in so Nico could feel her face and braid. She then let Leo do the same. These characteristics seemed unique enough that Nico would be able to tell who it was, though what was the real indicator was the feeling of soot covering the both of them. They spent so much time building in Bunker 9 that it was always on them.

“So what are you gonna do?” Leo asked after Nico’s hand receded.

“I guess we’re just going to have to work around this, look for solutions, things like that,” Will responded.

Kayla directed her speech at Will, “You’re going to have to lead him around everywhere and help him through everything. It doesn’t seem like he’s going to let go anytime soon.”

Nico’s hand had crept up to Will’s upper arm, and was gripping under his tricep. Will barely noticed, but let Nico be. Whatever was comforting for him was what was best.

The dinner horn blew, and the group stood up to head over to dinner. Will patted Nico’s leg and began to stand, Nico following suit. They made their way over to the tables, and Will sat between Kayla and Nico, with Nico closer in on the bench. Kayla and Austin were attempting to make casual conversation, but it eventually died because Will was too busy helping Nico with his food to talk, plus they were always the ones to cause the banter. Campers at other tables stole glances at Nico having heard rumors of his condition.

It was fairly quiet at the pavilion, and only the Stolls were really talking. “Hey, did you see the strawberry fields today? They were completely wilted!”

“Wonder why. Maybe the weather barrier is slipping.”

“Nah, wouldn’t be that. Weather wouldn’t wilt them that fast. Besides, it was warm over there too.”

“Yeah, there’s gotta be something going on.”

Will, along with the other campers, without choice, overheard this conversation. Will immediately thought of going there, but he didn’t want to bring Nico with him in his condition.

Chiron walked over to the Apollo table after finishing his meal. “I expect that Nico will stay in your cabin tonight, or in the infirmary with somebody with him. There are enough beds in both places. I can trust you with taking care of him?”

“Of course, he can stay in our cabin,” Austin said.

“As long as Will thinks it’s a good idea,” Kayla added.

Will looked up from his plate and said, “Yeah, the Apollo cabin would be best. Closer and comfier beds than the infirmary, and we can have more than one person to help.”

“Then he is in your hands. We will look into the strawberry fields the Stolls were talking about in the morning. For now, I’m sure you could use some rest. I will not advise you to go to the campfire tonight. You may simply sleep in your cabin if you wish. There will be no ill will against you for doing so,” Chiron said, and the three nodded.

The four went back to their cabin following dinner, while the rest went to the campfire. Chiron was planning on informing the campers of what had happened and what they would do the next day. They slowly worked their way along the paths, avoiding as many obstacles as possible. Nico and Will seemed joined at the hip as they walked, and Austin would run ahead to clear anything such as doors and clothes on their cabin floor. Kayla stayed behind and talked to Will.

“Did it look healable?”

“No.”

“How will he survive?”

“I’ll stay with him.”

“What if something happens to you?”

“It won’t.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“I won’t let it.”

“There are some things you can’t control.”

“Obviously. If I could control everything, then this wouldn’t have happened. Then Michael wouldn’t have died. Then Lee wouldn’t have died. Then nobody would have died. Then my mom wouldn’t have died…”

Kayla grabbed Will’s hand, which had clenched from frustration. Nico had leaned his head on Will’s shoulder, which rather than calming Will as it normally did, only seemed to make him more frustrated.

They approached the cabin, and Austin stood at the door, holding it open for the group. Will led Nico to an empty bed, and sat him down. He patted Nico’s thigh, and moved to get up. He continued pressing on Nico’s leg as he stood up, but Nico gripped onto Will tighter, and made a squeaking noise. Will sat back down.

“What were you getting up for?” Austin asked, having witnessed the little scenario.

Will let out a small sigh, then said, “I was going to get him some more comfortable sleeping clothes. We don’t have much, so I was going to check his cabin for something.”

“Austin and I can go get them for you. C’mon,” Kayla piped. She grabbed Austin’s wrist and pulled him out the door before he could object. She closed the door behind them, and they disappeared.

Will sat for a few moments, tapping his leg in a nervous pattern. Then he looked over to Nico, and grabbed his face, shoving their lips together. It was a desperate kiss, but Will was upset, tired, and he really just wanted Nico fully back with him. When he pulled away, they were both out of breath, and Nico blushed, a silly smile spreading over his face. Will began laughing and crying, wiping Nico’s bangs back. Then Nico shuffled a bit, and reached into his front pocket. It was a wrinkled piece of paper.

He pressed it into Will’s hand, and Will opened it. “Roses are red, violets are blue, I will never love someone… Oh Neeks. I love you too. So much.” Will caressed Nico’s cheek, rubbing his thumb over his reddened skin. He leaned forward and encased him in a hug, which is what his siblings found when they walked back in.

“Should we come back later or…” Austin trailed off.

“No, no, it’s fine,” Will said, wiping back tears and tucking the valentine under the covers. He took the pajamas they brought back and helped Nico get changed into them while Austin and Kayla went to brush their teeth and shower before bed.

Nico let go for Will to sleep in his own bed. They wouldn’t have minded being together, but Kayla and Austin had boundaries, and it would have been inappropriate even if it was simply sharing a bed. Besides, Will had other plans.

Once everyone in the cabin was asleep, and it was long after hours so nobody else would still be awake, Will got out of bed and carefully went outside. It was completely dark, but Will knew the camp well enough to get around until his eyes adjusted. He walked to the one place that he could tell that someone had been to when he was looking for Nico earlier; the strawberry fields. There, he could see that the plants were all withered.

He stepped cautiously over to the farthest part of the field, and saw the snow that had built up outside the camp’s protective barrier. He also saw footprints going out, and back in, but nothing was showed that the foot went back into the barrier. The print simply cut off, with no decline into the grassy area.

Will swallowed the build-up of spit, which dried out his throat. He reached his hand through the barrier, then found himself in the snow, the camp nowhere to be found. He first felt the cold, which was a slap in the face from the warmth of the camp, even at night. His sandals provided no protection from the snow, and his barren legs were covered in goosebumps. He wrapped his arms around him, and stood shivering, scanning his surroundings. It was very quiet all of a sudden, and his ears warmed.

He reached up to his ears, and when he brought his hand back in eyesight, his fingertips were covered in blood.

No, he thought, Not me too.

He looked around frantically, and a dark figure passed in front quickly, so Will’s eyes couldn’t follow. He turned around, and a large gust of wind blew in at him, forcing him to close his eyes. They immediately felt heavy, like he hadn’t closed them in days. He tried to look around, but he saw nothing. He started to panic, his blood pumping through his body at rapid speeds.

He felt the snow attacking his nerves in his feet, becoming numb with the cold. He collapsed into the snow, and tried to warm them by rubbing them with his hands, but he was too cold. His efforts were in vain, then his chin was lifted upwards. He felt claws digging into his skin, drawing blood that poured into his mouth, filling it with the taste of iron, until he was simply aware of a liquid in his mouth. He could no longer taste or smell the blood pouring out.

Shit. No, it can’t be like this. Nico needs me. The campers need me. I can’t abandon them. These thoughts rumbled around in his head, overwhelming him. He snapped and whistled.

He couldn’t hear it, but he knew that it worked because the claws were no longer lifting him up. He doubled over and spit out the blood that was collecting in his mouth. He crawled on hands and knees in some direction, until he ran into a tree. He tried to move around it, but it never seemed to end, as though it was infinitely ginormous. He felt the roughness of the bark, and then a sharp pain right through his back. He breathed, and collapsed.

His blood spilled out, staining the snow around him. A monster turned to dust next to him, and blew through the wind. Will’s body grew numb as the cold wind blew crisp, white snow over his lifeless face.

When Kayla woke up the next morning, the first thing she noticed was Will’s absence. She was normally the first one up, and she didn’t imagine that Will would leave Nico alone on purpose. She wandered the cabin in search of her missing brother, but didn’t find him anywhere.

“Austin, wake up! Will isn’t here! Austin!” She was shaking Austin awake , but he just ignored her and rolled onto his other side. She tore off his blankets, which was the best way to get him up.

“Ugh, what is it? Isn’t it too early for your antics?”

“Will is missing! He’s nowhere in the cabin!”

“Probably just went for a piss. Can I have my blankets back now?”

Kayla doubted that Will would go out at the crack of dawn to use the bathroom, but she supposed that Austin wouldn’t help for at least another five minutes. She went over to Nico and lightly shook him. He woke with a jolt, clearly having just been woken from a nightmare, though she couldn’t imagine what could be worse than what he had already and was currently experiencing.

Nico’s abilities had heightened to compensate for his lost senses, and Kayla was surprised when he got up and shadowtraveled away. He’d sensed death close to camp, and went to where it was. When he appeared in his new location he sunk in the snow, and the pajamas weren’t of much help against the biting cold. He did manage to come very close to Will, so it only took some reaching in the direction of death to find his body, stiff from the effects of rigor mortis. His skin was frozen, and Nico felt a small frost across his arms.

He moved his fingertips very slowly across Will’s body, until he reached his face. He cupped Will’s jaw line and brushed his thumb over Will’s cheek. He leaned down and kissed where his thumb was, feeling the frozen dew that replaced the warmth Will usually gave off. He moved his hand upwards and ran his fingers through his wavy, soft hair. He remembered the golden locks that he would stare at for hours, mesmerized. He remembered his blue eyes, the small freckles that dotted his face. His sunny demeanor that lit up Nico’s life.

He’d tried this Valentine’s Day. Last year he was too full of resentment toward Eros to get into the spirit, but Will had tried. This year he tried. He’d gotten over his grudge against Eros for Will, and this was what he got.

He doubled over and cried, howling more than he had before, so much so that he lost his voice and was silent as he hung over his boyfriend’s body, trembling. He summoned the shadows to take him to the infirmary, scooping up Will and taking him with him. He lay Will on a bed, and searched for a chair. When he found one, he sat down and succumbed to his exhaustion.

It began to snow in camp, and Kayla and Austin found Nico and Will in the infirmary. Chiron sent a satyr to inform their friends at Camp Jupiter, and they came over that afternoon to comfort Nico and for Will’s funeral that evening.

Nico sat between Hazel and Reyna, who helped him with his meal, of the little they could get him to swallow.

Will’s body sat upon a pile of wood, organized rectangularly to perform a proper ritual. Hazel stayed by Nico’s side, and guided him toward the casket, where he thought his final goodbye.

You are my sunshine

My only sunshine

You make me happy

When skies are gray

You’ll never know dear

How much I love you

Please don’t take

My sunshine away

The song seemed cruel, but he couldn’t help but accept the inevitable. That’s what Will did every day, with every death and every battle. He’d hated it, but he continued anyways. He was so strong, even knowing that they would probably die before they could amount to anything. He had faced so many challenges, but he still shone so bright. Nico couldn’t imagine that light extinguished, so he was glad he couldn’t see that. Will’s hair was still golden, his eyes still blue, his freckles still adorably placed.

Nico went to stay with Reyna in Camp Jupiter, where he was cared for and learned to communicate even with his disabilities. Will was on his mind every day, and was all he could see. Back in Camp Half-Blood, the Hades cabin was empty, void of life. A bowl remained on the table, where the strawberries wilted in their chocolate casings, the color slowly leaving them.

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