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sprout-fics · 22 days

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Mayday Mayday Chapter Three: Bravo in the Green

(Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Medic "Fix" Reader)

Part Six of Snowblind

Rating: Mature Themes Wordcount: 3.6k Tags: Slow Burn, Whump, Blood and Injury, Active Combat Scenarios, Teammates to ??? to Lovers, Angst, Banter, Flirting, Heavy sexual tension, Mutual pining, The mask comes off Warnings: Descriptions of blood and injury

Wanderers of the desert, you push onwards.

Your team is not pursued, and for that you count a needed mercy against the litany of misfortunes that has beleaguered your team within the past hours. A column of acrid smoke burns up into the stars behind you, the wreckage of the exploded chopper smoldering. With it lay the fallen forms of your would-be pursuers, their comrades limping back into the hills from which they came. Your team hikes further away from the site of the crash, collecting broken forms of your injured brothers between them. You strain under the weight of exhaustion, of your gear, of the shoulder of the injured man beside you as he stumbles up towards the shelter you all seek.

The village is absent of life- and seems to have been for some time. The wind howls between the small collection of buildings, what looks like was once a farm or homestead. Now it is abandoned, the doors creaking as they swing wide in the breeze, desert weeds growing wild against the fences. You can see evidence of lives that once were, interrupted by some great cataclysm. Dishware sits on the rugs, tattered laundry hangs from lines, evidence of some sudden departure you do not know the mystery to.

The team takes shelter in a house up the hill. The marine sergeant takes one of his corporals up to the roof to set up a sniper position. With them goes the comms specialist, and you hear the radio gargling with static from below as you help the wounded inside the dark shadows of the house.

The remainder are left to you. The injured are taken to the side room, and you quickly take in the survivors. Most seemed to have survived the journey well, and the few that didn’t you quickly work on setting to rights with the scarce medical supplies you have left. Their fellows, the ones that carried them half a click east, rest beside them, catching their breath and drinking from the precious water supply with measured sips.

Through some miracle, you don’t lose any more men.

The adrenaline crash kicks in right as you stand to inspect your work on the co-pilot, who you’ve managed to stabilize after he started flagging during the journey. He’s still unconscious, but occasionally you see his head move as he slowly tears himself away from the grave. You sway on your feet a moment, feeling the low ache of fatigue pull at you and settle in your bones. The poison of exhaustion slowly begins to leech into your veins as you wobble a bit towards somewhere a little more private, needing the darkness to cover you as you collect yourself away from your comrades.

You miss the words said to you by the soldier at the door, but they sound grateful, comforting. His hand on your shoulder is that of a friend.

It’s in the shadow of the house’s exterior that you finally collapse, lay your head against the exterior and breathe a deep sigh of relief. Your feet ache from the distance traveled, with you helping support one of the men on one shoulder, and the weight of your weapon in the other. You rub at your neck, trying vainly to relieve some of the ache there, groaning before scrubbing at your face, feeling the scent of blood cling to your fingers along with the grainy sand of the desert.

You’ll probably get a medal for this, you think idly. You try to bring yourself to care past the ache of your spine and dryness of your throat. Of course you’ll have to answer to the base commander about the exploded chopper when you get back- not to mention Price, though you know he’ll have fewer objections, given the circumstances. He’s always been a man of ingenuity and drive, and you know when you give him the mission report he’ll find a way to overlook one exploded helicopter compared to the lives you saved.

The thought of sitting through the paperwork regarding your impromptu escape plan has a weary sigh dragging from your chest. You’re so tired you think you could sleep for days. Now that you’re no longer pursued, and safe at shelter, the possibility of getting home and getting this shitstorm over with has never looked so promising. If you think about a hot shower a little too hard, you can feel your lip wobble a bit.

Just a few more hours, you whisper silently to yourself. Then debrief, which may take hours but at least will be back in the green zone, then a shower, a meal, and then hopefully twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep. The thought alone has you smile for the first time all night, and you cling to it as a lifeline against the temptation of crashing too hard down into exhaustion.

Footsteps approaching, and before they get close you already know them by the stride.

“Any news?” You ask as Ghost approaches and leans on the opposing corner of the house, the edge of him a dark shape in your periphery.

“Bird is waiting for clearance, but we’ll be clear by 0600.” Ghost offers flatly. You nod at that, taking in the good news with a quiet sigh of relief, until a gloved hand enters your vision.

“I don’t smoke.” You tell him as Ghost offers the cig towards you, and Ghost shrugs.

“You should.”

“Those things will kill you, you know.”

“So will helicopter crashes.” He drawls, and you huff a small sound of amusement despite yourself.

That’s true at least, and without much else to say you take the cigarette and lean towards the light Ghost offers you, eyes darting up to watch the orange shadows that dance over the white of his skull mask. It’s been a while since you dropped the habit you picked up in training, but a few puffs in you feel your shoulders drooping with ease as the buzz begins to settle over your brain.

“Not going to have one?” You ask as Ghost doesn’t move to light himself one in turn. You know he smokes, you’ve seen it. In the same way you catch glimpses of his chin and the slant of his mouth when he lifts bourbon to his tongue, you know the shape of his face under the mask, the scar that snakes towards his eyebrow and across his upper lip.

“Not tonight.” He tells you simply, but doesn’t make to move from where he stands.

Guarding, you think. Quiet, profound in the stillness.

When you look up at the sky, you can finally see the stars.

You think about the way the flicker of the lighter caught the browns of his eyes.

The billow of smoke curls away from you as you silently puff the cigarette, Ghost as a silent omnipresent shadow beside you.

“Tobacco isn’t good for concussions anyways.” You offer after a long few minutes of silence, and you think you hear Ghost make a mildly displeased sound. Yet when he doesn’t speak, you go on: “I saw you miss your shot.”

With the truck barreling towards you both, bullets pinging off the metal as the team desperately tried to stop it. You thought Ghost would take care of it- only for his own aim to bury itself deep in the soft, sloping sand.

Ghost never misses his shots. Especially at close range like that. You know him better than that.

Ghost stays quiet. He doesn’t offer excuses to you, and you know he’s not the type. More than that, he knows you won’t believe them.

“I’ll get it checked when we’re back at base.”

You frown at that, finally standing and flicking the remainder of the cig into the dirt, crushing it under your boot.

“Why?” You ask, brow drawing with disapproval. “I can check it out right now.”

Ghost watches you, shifting imperceptibly as if he expects you to close in on his space.

“Told you I’m fine.” He tells you again, voice a little lower in warning.

“Fine enough to miss shots.” You retort, and you can tell even in the dark with his mask on that Ghost frowns at you.

“Watch your tone, sergeant.” Ghost warns, voice low and eyes narrowing, and though instinctively you bite your tongue, you don’t step away from him.

It takes you a moment to realize why he’s being so stubborn. At first you think he sees your insistence as another usurpation of his command, a chance to deem him as unfit to lead and take over as CO. You could, in theory. When it comes to the well-being of the team, you outrank even Ghost. You learned your lesson from earlier though, and you thought Ghost would trust you to not try again.

Then, you blink.

The mask.

“Ghost.” You try again, softer now. “Just let me take a look. Won’t take but a minute. The others can’t see us here.”

Ghost is rigid with defensiveness, a novel expression of hesitation in his eyes. When he speaks, his voice is tight.

“I’ll check into medical after debrief.”

That bullshit and you know it. You can count the number of times you’ve seen Ghost in medical- and only ever for injuries he can’t tend to by himself. Short of a broken bone or bullet wound, Ghost would rather set his wounds by himself in the solitude of his room.

Like you, in the worst of ways you suppose.

You take a step forward into his space, and relish the brief flicker of surprise in Ghost’s eyes.

“You’re going to trust some base medic more than me?” You ask bluntly, resisting the urge to prod a finger against his vest. “Let some random soldier see your face when I’m right here?”

Ghost doesn’t move, his dark eyes boring down into yours as you glare.

“You said something a while back.” You go on as the voice of the past rings hollow in your ears. “Something about putting myself in danger trying to do everything by myself, right?”

In the hallway. Blood soaking your shirt. Your stitches torn as Ghost loomed dark and furious above you, cradling you as you begged him to look away from the things you couldn’t handle on your own.

How are you any different?

You want to accuse him of a double standard just to hear his defense, feel it engraved inside you how he’s different, better than you are- capable of taking care of himself where you aren’t. You want him to say it if only to feed the dark festering thing inside you filled with unjust comparisons, looking towards him as a north star you’ll never reach.

But this night has never been about hypocrisy. It’s been about trust.

Ghost stares at you, eyes unreadable in the dim light. He doesn’t speak. You don’t move.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost grunts at last, and reaches up to unbuckle his helmet and NVGs, a murmur of frustration running through the line of his shoulders. “Be quick about it.”

You do just that as the helmet drops into the dirt beside him, reaching upwards and realizing you can hardly touch the top of his head.

“Sit.” You motion to a crate beside him, and you don’t need light to see the way Ghost sours at the order but complies, begrudging in a way that veils his discomfort.

“I won’t take long.” You try, unclipping your flashlight and holding it up towards his face just as he pulls the mask away and-

Oh.

You feel your breath stutter in your chest.

Ghost...Ghost is beautiful.

You’d dreamt of this moment. You’d dared to dream for months about what Ghost looks like without his mask. You’d let your eyes linger on the slope of his mouth when he smoked, or the way his tongue ran across his lips to savor the taste of bourbon. You’d imagined the taste of him, had dared to wonder what it would be like to feel his lips on yours. In the quiet solitude you’ve been haunted by the glowing amber of his gaze, dark like embers, burning with secrets yet unknown to you.

You’d wondered about the scars you couldn’t see, thought perhaps they’d look familiar to your own that dwell inside you.

Now, illuminated by the fluorescent light of your flashlight, you see him bare for the first time.

He has a strong jaw, and along it there’s the barest graze of stubble that you itch to scrape your fingers through. Your eyes trace the deep, jagged scar that snakes from under the collar of his shirt upwards, grazing the corner of his mouth before veering towards his eye. It looks deliberate, cruel, placed there by someone who rejoiced in their ability to inflict horrific memories upon his flesh. It joins a myriad of others, flicks of a knife and a burn mark just above his brow- and you know that these are not the scars of a man who earned them. They were given to him without his consent, his skin torn asunder by those who took his freedom away.

You feel something inside you tug in familiarity.

His lashes are blonde. As is his hair- buzzed short, a dusky dark color that looks almost like honey. Blood wets a spot at the top of his head, dyeing the color a rusty sort of red as it dries. A drip of it curls down towards his temple, and your eyes follow it back towards his eyes- focused on you with a stare that’s no different from when the mask is on. Driven, dangerous, and in them you somehow see yourself.

You stay there a moment, wound forgotten as you drink your fill of him, trying to engrave inside you all the details you can, wondering if this will be the first and last time you see more of him than you dared to dream.

“Looking respectfully, sergeant?”

You nearly startle at Ghost’s voice tearing you from your thoughts, face warming at being caught ogling him so blatantly. You avert your eyes, clearing the grit in your throat with a little cough, but when you glance quickly back at him you see Ghost is smiling.

It’s a wry sort of expression, the corner of his mouth tugging smugly as he watches you try not to squirm under his stare, and at the reminder of your poor attempts of flirting earlier on the helo. It has no right to be as disarming as it is, catching a glimpse of self-satisfaction flickering in his gaze as you remember to close your agape mouth.

“Very respectfully.” You manage at last, trying to sound professional but more winded than anything. The smile has dropped from his face- there and gone in only a moment, but the syrupy, melting warmth of the expression wells low in your stomach and threatens to further weaken your already unstable knees.

Cheeky bastard.

You avoid his eyes as you look at the contusion on his head, distractedly hovering your fingers over his sweaty hair if only to feel how soft you think it is.

“How bad is it?” Ghost grunts, impatient.

“...You’ll do.” You tell him blandly, scarcely swallowing down the words you want to say. Then, with a hint of retribution: “Still think you’d look better in green.”

The unamused look Ghost shoots you, if anything, seems only to encourage you. You feel your mouth twitch with something close to a grin.

“Stay still for a moment.” You tell him, taking out a bandage and gently blotting at the dried blood on his scalp as he hisses at the touch. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” He tells you, reaching up to hold the flashlight as you work. Briefly, his fingers skim across yours as you release the hold on it, and it takes a heavy yield of focus to not let your ministrations cease as your chest flutters.

True to your word, you try to work quickly, cleaning off the blood and as gently as you can trying to apply a smear of antibiotic ointment from your precious, limited supply. At last you secure a bandage to the contusion, and lean back to admire your handiwork.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you should get checked out on base just in case.” You declare softly, and Ghost nods only once before he’s reaching for his mask again, stealing away the vision of him before you have a chance to look one last time.

“and-” Ghost pauses as you speak, knuckles still grasping the bottom of his mask as he regrettably finishes pulling it over his face once more. “I promise not to tell anyone you’re a blonde.”

Ghost doesn’t move. Hardly even breathes, and after several long minutes of silence you begin to wonder if you’ve pushed him too far.

“Can’t have Gaz and Soap thinking I’m getting special treatment, after all.” You force yourself to laugh, busying yourself with tucking away the medical supplies. Ghosts eyes burn into your back. He’s quiet even as you zip up the med kit again.

“Is that what you call this then, Fix?”

You freeze, shoulders stiff, fingers clasped onto the zipper and thanking heaven you’re faced away from him so he doesn’t see the agape, nearly scandalized expression on your face.

“I-I’m just doing my job.” You stammer after a moment, and regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. “...Sir.”

You’re almost thankful when Ghost hums as if he doesn’t quite believe you.

You turn to him, hoping the darkness conceals the utter bewilderment and wild hope in your expression. You feel unsteady on your feet, lost in this constant push and pull you’re both caught in, dancing just out of reach and never sure about the others intent. You blame it on the exhaustion when you sway a little on your feet, not expecting Ghost’s gloved hand to shoot out and balance you by your elbow.

Your eyes land on it, travel the path of his arm up to the dark swirl of his irises behind the mask and feel your breath catch and hold in your chest.

Ghost doesn’t speak, doesn’t let go, and in return you find yourself entirely absent of the words you wish you could say.

You want him closer, closer than this. You want to feel the frame of him bracket you against the wall, that same hand traveling up to grab your face as he kisses you. You want him to take the mask off so you can see his mouth again, the pink of his lips that haunts you in your waking daydreams. You want him to say something, anything, that might confirm this isn’t just a dream, that you aren’t creating illusions within your lovesick mind.

You want him so much it aches to not have him.

“Ghost.” You whisper at last, barely audible in case the others somehow hear. Ghost stares at you, dark eyes unblinking, unreadable, until he seems to come to a quiet conclusion within himself.

“Steady on your feet, Fix.” He murmurs carefully, and when his thumb strokes just once on the inside of your elbow, you shudder.

He lets go then, almost reluctantly, and draws away. The absence of him leaves you even dizzier than before, forcing yourself to stand strong as he quietly paces away.

“Get some rest, soldier.” He offers, shouldering his weapon once more and making for the rooftop. “You deserve it.”

You wait until he’s gone to sit heavily on the crate beside you, the one that still has a bit of his warmth from where he perched. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, skin too warm under your loadout and mind reeling.

The softness of his voice, the wry smile, the lilt of his voice when he teased you, the mere touch of him has you leaning back and blinking dumbly at the sky, trying and failing to think through it all.

You deserve it.

It’s the closest thing you’ll get to praise in all this, but it matters little compared to the image of Ghost with that wickedly handsome grin that you know will haunt you for weeks to come.

Heaven help me.

You think all the sinners and the saints can’t help the way you’ve damned yourself for him.

Eventually you force yourself to stand and make your way back to the team sheltered inside the house. You go through practiced motions of ensuring the injured are set, before finally slumping against one of the corners, where one of the marines makes room for you. He passes you a canteen, which you take gratefully, and when you hand it back there’s a smile that wasn’t there at the start of the mission- something that speaks of trust. Respect.

Above you, in the quiet, you hear Ghost’s voice rumble to the other marine sergeant. On watch, as he always is, keeping you in his six just as you keep him in yours.

You drift off to the vision of his smile, and awaken at dawn to return home alongside him in the chopper, his leg pressed against yours warmly. On the tarmac Ghost lingers as you rush with the others to the infirmary, and you feel his eyes look after you as he fades into the distance.

The phantom press of his stare chases you in the hours to come as exhaustion threatens to sweep your legs out from under you, wishing he was there once more to keep you steady, to hold you. You try to remember his face as best you can, the scar on his jaw, the blonde flutter of his lashes. You try and fail to keep the thing inside you dim, refusing to let the dalliance of hope from alighting it into a blaze that threatens to consume you.

When you finally do sleep in your own bed, you find yourself wishing you weren’t alone, and hoping someday you won’t have to be.

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#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #Simon ghost riley x oc #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x ofc #reader insert #cod x reader #fic: shadow and bone #oc: fix #fic: snowblind #It's done!!#Finally!!#Now onto these two FINALLY banging each other and having feelings about it 😭

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allmoshnobrain · 22 days

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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫: 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

part 06 of 06 | masterpost

word count: 9,8k | ao3 link | fic's playlist

✦ on this chapter: NSFW!!!, dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female!oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, pregnancy, breastfeeding, mxf sex, threesome mentioned/implied, poly relationship mentioned/discussed, oral sex, pregnancy sex, small pov change at the end, an actual happy ending ♡

✧ Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine / Cashmere, cologne, and white sunshine / Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine / The kids were young and pretty

Where have you been? / Where did you go? / Those summer nights seem long ago / So is the girl you used to call / The queen of New York City ✧

August 17th, 1992

I blinked open my eyes, letting out a sleepy yawn as sunlight crept through the curtains, brightening up the room. A small grin tugged at my lips when I realized Dave was still fast asleep beside me, snoring softly with his arms wrapped around me, his bare skin pressed against mine. With a groan, I stretched out, feeling how sore my muscles were.

Honestly, even though I’d caught some shut-eye, I was totally wiped out from last night. James and Dave hadn’t given me a break for a second, making it their mission to push me to one mind-blowing climax after another in a wild competition for my attention and pleasure that had lasted all night long. But I wasn’t complaining; in fact, it probably had been one of the best nights I've ever had up to that point.

I glanced over to the other side of the bed, sighing when I saw James wasn't there; reaching out, I noticed the mattress was still warm, so he probably had left not too long before. I carefully slipped out of Dave's arms, got up, and headed to the bathroom. After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I absentmindedly ran my fingers through my hair as I checked out my skin in the mirror. It was covered in bites and little bruises that were starting to show. I sighed; I'd definitely need to slap on some makeup to cover those up before we hopped on our flight back home.

I threw on one of Dave's t-shirts, my shorts, and my shoes before snagging my pack of cigarettes and lighter. I slipped out of the room quietly and made my way up to the hotel's terrace. The place was nice, offering a panoramic view of the city with a few tables and chairs scattered around. Surprisingly, even though it wasn’t that early, it was still empty, which was a relief. Leaning against the railing, I lit up a cigarette, taking slow drags with a sigh.

"Figured I'd find you here," a familiar voice chimed in. I glanced up, meeting James' eyes as he strolled over. Turning to him, I rested a hand on his chest as he wrapped his arm around my waist. Letting out a sigh, I melted into his kiss, his tongue gently exploring my mouth while his hand cradled my face.

"You bailed on me," I murmured against his lips, and he grunted, kissing me once more. I chuckled softly. "Jamie..."

"I couldn't sleep," he confessed, pulling back slightly, his thumb stroking my lower lip gently.

"Come back to the room with me," I whispered, and he raised an eyebrow, a slight smile playing on his lips. "We don't have to split just yet. We've got until tonight. I'm sure Dave won't mind picking up where we left off yesterday."

"Now that he's sober? Doubt it," he murmured, then brushed his fingers gently across my face. I closed my eyes with a sigh, resting my hand over his. "Babe... You realize this thing between the three of us won't last beyond these walls, right?"

I blinked open my eyes, my reaction to his words written all over my face — a messy mix of feeling betrayed and totally lost. I shook my head no, and he responded with a smile, though it was a sad and resigned one that tugged at my heartstrings. He sighed as I reached out, cupping his cheek, drawing nearer.

"We can give it a shot," I murmured, my voice pleading. He clasped my hand in his, pressing a light kiss to my palm before letting go.

"And how exactly would that work?" he inquired, his tone gentle. "We're both public figures, Nore. You're making waves in your career now. What happens if the industry catches wind of you being with two guys at once? If just by you dating Dave, your face ends up plastered across magazine covers?"

"I don't give a shit about that," I shot back, and he scoffed.

"Well, I do. Not sure if you remember, but I made a promise. Promised Cliff I'd look out for you," he said, gently lifting my chin to meet his gaze. "Even if that means letting Mustaine win this round."

"So you’re walking away from me?" I questioned, my voice cracking, a scary emptiness gripping my heart. As messy as things were between James and me, he'd never thrown in the towel before. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, especially coming right after the high of last night — after finally admitting to myself that I didn't want to choose, that I loved both Dave and James, that I wanted them both, not one or the other.

He nuzzled into my neck, his hand sliding down to my hip beneath the t-shirt. Such a simple move, yet so familiar. A familiar vulnerability that reminded me of the boy he used to be.

If Cliff were still around, would things have gotten so strained between us? Would James' anger and my own self-destructive tendencies have wormed their way into our relationship like poison, tearing us apart until we barely resembled the young lovers we once were? I'd pondered that question countless times. Guess I’d never know the answer.

"I couldn't leave you. You know that," he murmured. "But I can't handle this, Nore. I can't share you. Especially when I know it could mess things up for you. Especially when I know it could fuck up your thing with Mustaine. I know you couldn't handle losing him again. You think I don't see how much you love him? How much he loves you?"

"But I love you too," I pleaded. "And you love me."

"I do. And that's why I'm doing this," he said, holding my face in his hands and brushing away the tears I hadn't even realized were streaming down my cheeks. "You're gonna be happy, Nore. As time goes by and the hurt fades, you'll find happiness with him. I know you will, 'cause you already did."

"I don't want to lose you."

"You're not losing me. I'll still be around," he whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. "I'll always be by your side. Always. I just can't stand to see you hurting anymore because of me. You've been through too much."

"It's not fair," I sobbed. "I want you to be happy too."

"I will. But I gotta get my act together first, so I can stop screwing things up for the people I care about," he said with a sad smile. I gripped onto his arm with one hand, wiping my tears away with the other. I didn't want this. It wasn't fair. But James' eyes held a determination I'd never seen before, and I knew I couldn't talk him out of it. James reached up to touch my face, running his thumb along my lower lip. "I gotta do this. You get it, right?" he asked, his voice shaky. I hesitated, but nodded before trying to force a smile — one last smile for the man I loved.

"Want to give me one last kiss?" I asked, and he laughed quietly. "You know, for good luck."

He leaned in, pulling me close, his lips brushing against mine slowly, savoring every moment. I tangled my fingers in his hair, closing my eyes and pressing myself against him, trying in every way to convey everything I felt; how much I loved him, how long I'd loved him, and how a part of my heart would always belong to him. How I wouldn't be who I was without him. He ended the kiss with two gentle pecks, then planted two small kisses on my cheek and forehead before hugging me tightly.

When I opened my eyes, he was gone.

When I got back to the room, Dave was there, fresh out of the shower, his hair still wet and a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Hey, babe," he greeted me with a smile, but it faded when he saw the look on my face. "What's up? Something happened?"

I nodded, heading over to him and wrapping my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest. Dave hugged me back right away, holding me close as he ran his fingers through my hair.

"Hey," he murmured, lifting my chin so I'd meet his gaze. "What's going on? Did I fuck anything up?"

"No, no," I reassured him, pulling him into another hug and nuzzling into his neck. He let out a soft, worried sigh, holding me close.

"Tell me what's going on, honey. I'm freaking out here," he urged, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm being selfish," I murmured, my voice shaking. "I'm being selfish because after yesterday... I thought... I thought that you, me, and James could figure it out. I've been torn up for so long about having to pick one of you, and… And yesterday it hit me, I don't really want to choose. But James... He's not on board. He said it wouldn't be good for my career if people found out. That I'd be better off without him." I pulled back, meeting his eyes, pleading. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you with this, Dave..."

"You're not hurting me," he said, cupping my face in his hands. "Do you really think I don't know you love him, Nore? After all these years together? I was the one who walked away, and he's the one who’s been there for you this whole time. As much as I hate it, I get it. I'm not mad at you. It's okay."

He helped me sit on the bed, pulling me close against his chest. I let out a sigh, giving him a light kiss, and he let out a low, contented sound as he held me tight. He smelled nice, all warm and woodsy; just being near him helped me relax.

"I love you," he whispered, leaning in to kiss me gently on the lips, his fingers brushing against my tear-stained cheeks. "But you know it's different for people like us," he said softly, studying my face as he traced it with his fingertips. "Behind the scenes at a gig, a private party... We can get carried away in those moments, do things we wouldn't do anywhere else. But then we go back to the real world. We put on our masks. We're their idols, babe. And those private moments become vulnerabilities that these media vultures would kill to get their hands on, to twist who we are into whatever they want. A wild drunk. A messed-up junkie. I get why James wants to shield you from that, I'd do the same. But if you wanna go back to him..." he furrowed his brow, his brown eyes filled with a restless sadness that tugged at my heart. "There's still time. And I won't hold it against you."

"No way. I'm not ditching you. Don't even go there, Dave," I said, my tone firm and cutting. James had a point about one thing: I couldn't handle losing Dave again, and I wasn't about to take that chance. I looked at him, pleading. "You know I love you. Don't even think about telling me to bail."

Sure, part of me was hurting and torn up, but I wasn't about to do anything that might push him away.

If it came down to choosing, my decision had been made long, long ago.

"Then stay with me," Dave said softly. "Stay with me, and I swear, even if you're still hung up on him, I'll love you just as much."

"I love you. I'm not going anywhere," I replied, locking eyes with him and holding his face in my hands. His breath hitched, relief and longing shining in his eyes as he pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his lips edging closer to mine. "Don’t ever dare to push me away again. You're stuck with me, Mustaine," I whispered, our mouths almost touching, and he grinned.

"You know you're the only one I love... Losing you is the last thing I'd ever want," he said, his hand tangling in my hair and pulling me closer as his lips met mine.

✧ But if you send for me, you know I'll come / And if you call for me, you know I'll run / I'll run to you, I'll run to you / I'll run, run, run / I'll come to you, I'll come to you / I'll come, come, come ✧

October 9, 1992

Ever since I was a kid, the ocean had been a great presence in my life. Growing up in Long Beach and then moving around to San Francisco and Los Angeles meant I was always near the beach. Whether I was feeling great or down, the sea was like a silent companion, there for me through thick and thin. So when Dave suggested we hit up a beachside cottage in San Francisco for the weekend, I was totally stoked.

The past couple of months hadn't exactly been easy. After Leanne's wedding, James and I went back to being cool with each other, but his choice to step back still stung. Trying to keep up a friendship after being together for years was bittersweet, and way tougher than I thought it'd be. But having Dave around made it all a bit smoother. Even when I still felt down sometimes, I knew I'd rather deal with that sadness over and over than go through the heartbreak of losing him again.

Things were looking up for our careers. On my end, I was hashing out the details for a role in my first movie, which was gonna be a whole new ball game compared to everything I'd done before. The series I was headlining was wrapping up filming, and it seemed like smooth sailing all around.

Dave had been riding high with all the concerts he'd been doing since Megadeth had dropped their latest album, Countdown to Extinction. The album had been a hit, which was awesome news for both of us. The following year, the band would hit the road for an international tour, and although we knew it was gonna be tough being apart for that long, we figured we'd make the most of the rest of '92 by squeezing in as much time together as we could, starting with our little weekend getaway.

At Dave's urging, I’d let him take the reins on planning everything. I grinned as he pulled up to the small beach cottage, instantly recognizing it. Even after all these years, some things in San Francisco still remained the same.

"That's the cottage you took me to that time, right before you went on that trip to New Jersey with the guys," I said, grinning at Dave as he pulled the car to a stop. He flashed me a smile in return.

"Yep, that's the spot. Good memory," he leaned in for a quick peck on the lips. "Wanted to whisk you away to a place that's got some history for us both."

And he’d totally hit the mark; the little cottage was quaint yet comfy, a throwback to the best days of my life, a time when we were just two young lovers, exploring what it meant to be together. Back when I was learning what it meant to have a family beyond blood, with all my friends by my side, back when Cliff was still around, all witty remarks and calm smiles. Back before Dave and the guys had their falling out and things had changed forever, for all of us.

Dave tossed me the key, asking me to pop open the doors and windows for some fresh air while he hauled our bags inside. I happily obliged, instantly recognizing the layout of the small house: cozy living room leading to the bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen. The bedroom had an old double bed and a wardrobe, plus a TV that definitely wasn't there last time. And then there was the balcony, right out to the beach, where I could see the sea glimmering in the morning light.

I grinned as Dave strolled in, dumping our bags on the bed before coming over to wrap me in a hug and plant a soft kiss on my lips.

"You like it?" he asked softly. I nodded. "Yeah, it's a bit smaller than I remembered, but I hope it’s still cozy enough."

"It's perfect, Dave," I said, cupping his face in my hands and giving him another kiss. He grinned, looking like he was about to say something, but then hesitated, which caught my attention. "What's up?"

"I was just curious... if you had any cool stuff planned for this weekend," he said, trying to keep a straight face, but I could tell he was about to crack a smile. I grinned back, a bit puzzled.

"I didn't plan anything fancy, babe. You were supposed to take care of all that, remember? But we can chill at the beach and then figure out something fun to do together, sound good?"

"Well, actually..." he started, his grin spreading. "I had something else in mind."

"Oh, really? You know I'm down for whatever," I answered, and he smiled playfully before taking my hands in his, leaning his forehead against mine.

"Even marrying me tomorrow?" he asked, his tone low.

I blinked, totally caught off guard, wondering if I'd heard him right. I leaned back a bit, a shocked grin breaking across my face as my heart started racing. Was he serious? Dave grinned back at my reaction, giving my hands a gentle squeeze, his soft touch grounding me back to reality.

"What do you mean, tomorrow?" I asked, dumbfounded, and he laughed.

"I mean tomorrow," he replied, genuine happiness and excitement in his voice. "Nore, I... I've spent too much of my life away from you already. And it sucked," he chuckled, and I couldn’t help but laugh too, feeling my heart completely out of sync as butterflies fluttered in my stomach. "Next year, when I go on tour... I want to know I’m coming back home to you. Every single day of my life, I want to be sure I'll come back to you."

I gasped in surprise as he knelt down on one knee, still holding my hands before letting them go and pulling out a small box from his pocket. He opened it to reveal a beautiful ring, gold with a large dark blue stone and small diamonds around it.

"This might just go down as the quickest engagement in history," he whispered with a smile. "But seriously, I've never been more certain about anything in my life than wanting to spend it with you. Eleanore Marie Burton... Will you mar-"

"Yes," I blurted out, barely letting him finish, a grin spreading across my face as I brought my fingertips to my lips, giggling like a little girl with tears brimming in my eyes. Dave beamed, his own eyes misting up as he got to his feet. "Yes, I’ll marry you," I confirmed, and he took my hand in his, slowly slipping the ring onto my finger before pulling me in close by the waist, drawing me into a slow, passionate kiss.

"Thank goodness you said yes," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips. "I mean, I've already forked out for the whole thing. Would've been a bit awkward if you'd turned me down."

I couldn't help but laugh, joyous tears streaking down my cheeks as I cupped his face in my hands, his arms enveloping me tightly, our lips finding each other's again, and again, and again.

✧ The power of youth is on my mind / Sunsets, small town, I'm out of time / Will you still love me when I shine / From words but not from beauty?

My father's love was always strong / My mother's glamor lives on and on / Yet still inside, I felt alone / For reasons unknown to me ✧

October 10, 1992

We got married the next day, on a sunny autumn afternoon. The morning was a whirlwind of activity as we scrambled to get everything just right: first, a crew showed up bright and early to set up the beachside ceremony, arranging tables and chairs, decking out the altar with decorations, and pitching tents for the guests to hang out in during the reception. Then came the chefs Dave had enlisted to whip up the feast; our little cottage just couldn't contain the festivities, so it was all hands on deck to get everything outdoors-ready.

Soon after, the guests began trickling in. My family was the first to arrive: Uncle Ray, Aunt Jan, and my parents. Then, to my utter delight, Leanne and Joe made an appearance. I hadn't expected Leanne to come, with her pregnancy moving along, but clearly, I’d underestimated her determination. When I mentioned my surprise, she just chuckled.

"Are you kidding? Wouldn't miss it for the world. Plus, you're gonna need a maid of honor, right?" she teased, and I couldn't help but beam with genuine happiness.

Leanne and my mom pitched in to get me ready; Mom tackled my hair while Leanne took charge of my makeup. The master bedroom turned into a makeshift beauty parlor, and before I knew it, the clock was ticking away as I was treated like royalty: my hair was coiffed and styled before a quick snack break, then Leanne got to work on my makeup before I slipped into the dress Dave had taken me to pick out the day prior.

All of this happened amidst all the hustle and bustle of getting the party ready and Dave getting himself sorted in the tiny bathroom. The cottage turned into a bit of a madhouse, mostly because Leanne and Mom were on strict guard duty, keeping everyone out of the bedroom until I was good to go. But, despite the chaos, the vibe was just pure joy, and nobody seemed to be sweating the small stuff.

Finally, when I was all dolled up, Leanne swooped in and covered my eyes with her hands, while Mom propped up a full-length mirror against the wall. Turns out, she'd had the foresight to pick one up just for the occasion. When I asked her about it, she just gave me an exasperated look.

"Imagine not being able to see yourself in the mirror on your big day. This is a once-in-a-lifetime deal, and I wasn't taking any chances on there not being one around. So, I came prepared," she explained.

Well, this time Mom had definitely hit the mark. The cottage was pretty basic, and a full-length mirror wasn't exactly on the inventory list. When I finally laid eyes on myself, I couldn't help but gasp in amazement. My hair was swept up into a loose bun, with bits of it cascading around my face, adorned with these adorable little yellow flowers nestled into the brown locks.

Leanne's makeup skills were on point, giving my eyes, lips, and cheeks just the right pop. And the dress was like it was made for me, light as a feather, sleeveless and elegant, hugging my curves in all the right places, even making me feel a bit taller. Grinning ear to ear, I took the bouquet from Leanne — a gorgeous mix of white roses and sunflowers, just like the ones Dave had handed me that first time we caught up after reuniting.

I was stunning. But it wasn't just about the looks: this overwhelming sense of pure joy seemed to radiate from every inch of me, lighting up my eyes and my smile. And for the first time in forever, there wasn't a shred of worry weighing me down.

"You know, when your fiancé called, I'll admit, I thought you two might've been rushing into things. But now... seeing you like this... You really love him, don’t you?" Mom asked, giving one last gentle tug on the dress zipper. All I could manage was a silent nod.

In that moment, one thing was crystal clear, and it was my love for Dave.

"Okay, it's showtime," my dad barged in out of nowhere, freezing in his tracks as he caught sight of me. His eyes welled up with a mix of shock and pride, his jaw practically hitting the floor. I couldn't help but grin, the excitement sending shivers down my spine, my heart pounding, and tears threatening to spill from my eyes. "Ellie, you... You look stunning," he said, grasping my arms and beaming at me before turning to my mom. "Clémence, sweetheart, you and Leanne better get a move on... The ceremony's about to kick off."

"Okay," Mom gave my hair one final tweak before she and Leanne settled my veil in place. Lea squeezed my hand tight.

"We'll be right there, Nore. See you in a bit," she said reassuringly.

I nodded, but inside, my stomach was doing somersaults. All morning, I'd been riding the excitement train, but now, with the ceremony about to kick off, a tidal wave of nerves hit me like a ton of bricks. Dad noticed, gripping my arm a little tighter, offering silent support as he sensed my jitters.

"You got this, Ellie. Dave's just waiting on you," Dad whispered, giving me a reassuring squeeze.

I nodded, feeling the adrenaline pumping through my veins, a nervous smile breaking out on my face. And with that, the music started up, and Dad guided me down the aisle to where Dave was waiting at the altar.

As I emerged into the back of the cottage, I couldn't help but be taken aback by the sea of familiar faces gathered for the ceremony. Charlotte and her boyfriend were holding court, joined by a bunch of my college and work buddies, along with Dave's band mates. Lars, Kirk, and Jason flashed me a grin. But my heart dropped a bit when I realized James wasn't among them. I couldn't help but wonder if he'd opted out, if my wedding would just add another layer to the hurt between us.

But all of that was shoved to the backburner the second I locked eyes with Dave. He had this intense, serious expression on his face, which might've been a bit intimidating if I didn't know it just showed how emotional he was. His gaze was glued to mine as I made my way over, and when Dad handed me off to him, Dave let out this deep breath, a huge grin spreading across his face that I couldn't help but mirror.

Our vows were straight from the heart, short and sweet, but bursting with love. I gotta admit, I tried my hardest to keep the waterworks at bay, but a few rogue tears still managed to slip out. And when the officiant asked if I took Dave as my husband, I found my voice all choked up. But I managed to squeak out my acceptance, which just melted Dave's eyes into a puddle of warmth and affection.

When he slid that ring onto my finger, it was like everything clicked into place. Like I'd finally found my spot in the universe. Through all the rough patches, all the time we’d spent apart, I guess deep down, I always knew we'd find our way back to each other. I always knew that I loved him, had loved him all along, right from the start, and that love wasn't going anywhere till my very last breath.

I let out a soft chuckle as Dave leaned in for a kiss, pulling me close, his hand gentle on my cheek, brushing away the tears of joy that had welled up. I sighed contentedly, wrapping my arms around his neck, never wanting to let go.

It was done. And in that moment, it hit me — I'd never have to go through losing him again. Our love had seen us through, brought us back together, helped us learn to forgive, and most importantly, to fall for each other all over again.

I was his, and he was mine.

The party after the ceremony was nothing fancy, but it was a blast. Our wedding wasn't a huge affair, just our nearest and dearest, but honestly, it couldn't have been any better in my book. I was practically beaming with joy as everyone came up to chat with me.

"Nore!" Lars burst out, champagne in hand, with Kirk right by his side, sporting a grin. I couldn't help but smile back, chuckling when they both practically tackled me with hugs. "Congrats, Mrs. Mustaine," Lars said with a twinkle in his eye, and I let out a laugh.

"Mustaine-Burton," I smiled. "I'm going with a double-barrelled name... Didn't want to ditch the Burton part, you know? It's got history with Cliff," I explained, which earned approving smiles from both of them.

"You know, I never really got what's up with you and Mustaine until I saw you two in the same place at the same time," Kirk mused. "It's like you two are in your own little world when you're together. And seeing him all smitten like this is a funny sight. Congrats, babe," he continued, pulling me in for another hug. I let out a soft chuckle in response.

"Can I crash the congrats party?" a familiar voice piped up, and I lit up as I spun around to find James, a hint of a smile on his face.

"James!" I blurted out, pulling him in for a hug, which he met with a soft laugh. "I thought... I thought you were gonna bail on me."

"A dude can't even be fashionably late these days?" he teased, and I laughed. "Of course I was gonna show up. You think you can shake me off that easily, Burton?"

"Mustaine-Burton, actually," I corrected him, and he just rolled his eyes.

"As if I'm gonna go with that," he quipped, caressing my hair softly, which made me giggle. "So, where's your... husband?"

"Last I saw, he was chatting with my folks. Ah, there he is," I grinned as I caught sight of Dave, shooting the breeze with his sister while clutching a flute of champagne. He spotted me, then James by my side, and immediately made a beeline over.

"Hey, honey. Hungry yet? I had 'em whip up that salad you're into," he said, slinging an arm around my waist, pulling me in snug. It was a sweet move, not without a hint of claiming me as his own.

"Oh yeah, I'm starving. I was just chatting a bit," I answered, planting a light kiss on Dave's cheek. He grinned and then turned his gaze to James, who met it without saying a word. I watched their silent exchange, feeling a bit on edge, but my eyebrows shot up in surprise when James reached out his hand to Dave, who shook it.

"Congrats, dude," James said, and Dave shot him a tight yet polite smile.

"Thanks."

"I'm thinking of snagging a brew... Catch you later, Nore," James said, giving me a nod. I returned it as he made his way towards the makeshift bar set up for the guests.

"Hey, James!" Dave called out, stopping him in his tracks. James turned back, eyebrow raised in question. Dave hesitated for a moment before speaking up. "I'll take care of her, man. You have my word."

"I know you will," James replied, offering a faint smile. I watched with interest as the two of them seemed to reach some unspoken understanding. Then James turned and headed off.

The party dragged on till way past bedtime. By the time the guests cleared out and the crew tore down the setup, I was beat. My eyes were practically glued shut with exhaustion as I wiped off my makeup and let down my hair. I couldn't help but laugh when I felt Dave sneak up behind me, wrapping his arms around me and planting a slow kiss on my neck, my body warming up at his touch.

"You happy?" he whispered, and I grinned, turning to meet his gaze, our hands intertwining. I couldn't help but smile at the cool touch of his ring against my skin.

"Over the moon," I murmured, letting out a soft chuckle as he fumbled for my dress’ zipper, planting a kiss on my shoulder and pulling me close. His lips trailed up my skin, and I couldn't help but smile when they met mine. "And you?"

"Absolutely," he murmured back, gently nipping at my lower lip.

I let out a sigh as he lifted my dress' hem, settling me on the vanity while taking off my panties. A quiet laugh escaped my lips as he started undoing his pants. He pressed his forehead against mine, parting my thighs with one hand. I moaned softly as he pushed into me, my fingers tangling in his ginger hair as he moved slowly. I tilted my head back as his lips traced the curve of my neck and collarbone.

"Couldn't even wait to get me in bed?" I managed to gasp out, and he smirked, easing himself inside me with slow, deliberate movements.

"What makes you think I won't fuck you in bed too?" he countered with a low growl, and I couldn't help but laugh, the sound melting into a moan as his lips crashed against mine, his thrusts growing more urgent by the second.

I melted into him, fingers tangling in his hair as my lips trailed down to his neck. He let out a deep groan, his hold on my hips tightening as his breathing grew heavier, his movements getting more frenzied by the second. I couldn't help but moan as he slipped a hand down to my clit, working it with such skill that sent shivers down my spine.

"My beautiful wife," he growled, burying his face in my neck as I clung to him. He grunted as he felt me tighten around him, my climax building rapidly. His movements grew more urgent, and I shuddered as the pleasure became almost overwhelming, my body convulsing with each wave as I moaned his name. He pulled me close, his rhythm faltering as he released inside me, his forehead resting against my shoulder, his breath coming in heavy pants. I giggled as he peppered kisses along my shoulder, then my neck, nibbling lightly on my ear before whispering again, "My beautiful, beautiful wife."

I had never been happier.

And if you call I'll run, run, run / If you change your mind, I'll come, come, come ✧

December 31st, 1992

Two months later, we headed back to San Francisco for Lars' annual New Year's Eve bash. Dave wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the thought of ringing in the new year with his old band mates, but I promised him he didn't have to mingle with them if he didn't feel like it. I mean, Lars' parties were notorious for being massive. Dave was trying his best to wrap his head around the fact that having me in his life also meant having some sort of contact with Lars, Kirk, and James. Surprisingly, he was handling it better than I thought he would.

I let out a sigh, a little smile playing on my lips as we pulled up to Lars' vacation home. Last time I’d set foot there, getting back with Dave wasn't even on my radar. If someone had told me then that a year later we'd be married, I'd have probably burst out laughing. It was like in the past year, all my wildest dreams had decided to come true.

I grinned as we stepped into our guest room and spotted Lars' handiwork of choosing the perfect outfits for his guests; this time, a stunning blood-red gown for me, paired with a slick black suit and shirt in the same shade for Dave. Dave let out a low whistle at the sight of our getups, slinging an arm around my waist.

"You’ll look absolutely gorgeous in that dress, babe," he said with a smile, leaning in to brush his lips against my ear. "Can't wait to take it off you later."

I laughed, giving him a playful shove, and he planted a kiss on my lips before stepping back.

The party was off the hook, as usual. Even Dave seemed blown away by the spread of food, drinks, and all the big shots milling around, though he tried to play it cool, which just made me smile. We worked the room together, hand in hand, stopping here and there to shoot the breeze with some familiar faces.

At one point, we split up when Dave went to grab us some drinks. That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and when I turned around, a smile spread across my face at the sight of James. He was rocking an all-black outfit, his blond hair flowing and his face looking healthier than I had seen in years.

"Thought you were gonna bail this year. You know, since your husband's not our biggest fan," James said, a slight grin playing on his lips. I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be ridiculous, James. I wouldn't miss hanging out with you guys for anything," I retorted before pulling him into a hug. He let out a satisfied sigh, keeping me close for maybe a bit longer than strictly necessary, his hand resting at the small of my back as he buried his face in my hair.

"You look stunning," he whispered in my ear, and I swear I could feel my cheeks flushing. "Missed you, Nore," he grinned, those blue eyes twinkling with a certain mischief that sent my heart into a flutter.

Guess I wasn't entirely immune to James' charms after all.

Later, after the party wrapped up, Dave and I ended up back in our room, his hands all over me, his body pressing me against the wall, his tongue tangling with mine as I let out soft moans, my fingers entwined in his soft ginger hair. He suddenly pulled away when we heard a knock on the door. I blinked, curious. Dave groaned, irritated, rolling his eyes, and I couldn't help but chuckle under my breath.

"I'll get it," I offered, and he grunted, stepping aside to let me reach the door. Swinging it open, I was taken aback to find James standing there. His eyes swept over me, a faint smile playing on his lips as he noticed my flushed cheeks and mussed-up hair.

"Bad timing?" he quipped, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks once more.

"James, what's up? Need something?" I inquired, and he let out a low laugh, that same hint of mischief as before flashing in his eyes.

"You know why I'm here, sweetheart. Mind if I come in?" he murmured, his voice dropping. My skin warmed when Dave's arms wrapped around me, pulling me close as he planted a kiss on my neck.

"What do you think, babe?" Dave murmured, his proximity sending my pulse into overdrive. James observed, desire flickering in his blue eyes as he let out a soft sigh. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach as I realized what was about to happen. "Should we let him in?"

I glanced at James, who flashed a playful grin before closing the gap between us, lifting my chin with his fingers before pressing his lips to mine.

Believe it or not, that was the kick-off to some of the happiest times of my life. James, Dave, and I kept our meetings going for a few months, and I gotta say, it was pretty amazing to experience loving both of them at the same time.

But James had a point in the end; keeping our thing under wraps, away from the public, got tougher and more draining by the day. And even though he didn't outright say it, I could tell Dave wasn't thrilled about sharing me. Plus, James and Dave still had a lot of resentment between them; not even the possibility of both of them having me eased the wounds they still needed to heal. So, as time went on, our three-way nights became rarer until they just fizzled out completely.

Surprisingly, that didn't wreck my bond with James, thanks to something totally unexpected: him falling for someone else. Strangely enough, it didn't bug me as much as I thought it would. I had a long history of feeling jealous of James' girlfriends back in the day. But now, it was like our connection had matured into something peaceful. I was genuinely glad to see him finding happiness, just like he was glad to see how happy my marriage made me.

So, believe it or not, I found myself happy. I had a husband who adored me, a successful career, and friends who were like family. Sure, Cliff's loss was like a shadow that never quite left, but I wasn't going through my mourning alone. Some days hit harder than others, but ain't that just life? We all coped in our own ways, not always the healthiest, but bit by bit, I learned to live again.

Bit by bit, I allowed myself to be happy again.

✧ Blue hydrangea, cold cash divine / Cashmere, cologne and hot sunshine / Red racing cars, Sunset and Vine / And we were young and pretty ✧

November 14, 1993

It happened not long after my first wedding anniversary.

The past year had been smooth sailing for both me and Dave. Hardly anything threw a wrench in the works; I kept climbing up the ladder in acting, and Dave was killing it in his music gig. His band was hitting new highs, even if that meant he was on the road more and we were apart a bunch. But, in the end, it just made every second we had together even sweeter.

Somewhere in the last few months, I’d ditched the birth control pills. Not 'cause Dave and I were mapping out parenthood or anything, but just because we figured we'd want kids somewhere down the line. Seemed like a good time to let nature take its course — if it happened, cool. If it didn’t, that was okay too.

I just wasn’t ready for it to happen that fast — but the two lines that appeared on the pregnancy test didn't lie.

I was pregnant.

Maybe it wasn't the smartest move to take that test while Dave was still laying down tracks at the studio. Because now, a full-on panic started to set in as I stared at that little plastic stick. I only grabbed it because I'd been feeling like garbage — tired as hell and sick to my stomach round the clock. Plus, I couldn't even remember the last time I'd had a period. But even with all those hints, the result still caught me off guard.

I rested a hand on my belly, staring at my own nervous reflection in the mirror. I had no clue how I was gonna break the news to Dave. And with the band gearing up for another album, I couldn't predict how he'd take it either. Albums meant tours, and I was freaking out, thinking I might mess up Dave's whole career and plans.

Chill out, I told myself. He's been wanting this as much as you have.

And it was true. Actually, it was Dave who'd thrown out the idea of me ditching the birth control pills. I tried to keep that in mind, shutting my eyes and taking a deep breath. It kinda eased some of my nerves. I absentmindedly noticed my face was all flushed.

"Nore?" I jumped when I heard Dave's voice. I hadn't even noticed he'd gotten back home, but then again, I was holed up in the bathroom upstairs. I heard a couple of taps on the door. "You in there?"

"Yeah, I'm here!" I called out, shoving the test back into its box and tucking it away in the cabinet under the sink before swinging the door open. Dave grinned at me, his ginger hair pulled back into a ponytail, and reached out for a hug. I chuckled softly, some of the tension melting away as I wrapped my arms around him, nuzzling into his chest. "Hey there, baby. Welcome home."

"You feeling any better?" He ran a gentle hand through my hair.

Now it was clear why I'd felt so sick — another day where I just couldn't drag myself to work because of the nausea. Dave would've stayed put if I hadn't practically pushed him out the door to the studio. Didn't want to throw a wrench in the works of the band's new album. The idea of being a hassle to him brought tears to my eyes, which kinda ticked me off. Guess my hormones were already all over the place.

Which meant one thing: I had to tell him.

"Dave..." I started, my voice shaky, meeting his gaze. He brushed his fingers over my face gently, a flicker of worry in his eyes.

"What is it?" he whispered. I tried to speak, to put into words what I needed to say, but I found myself speechless. Instead, I reached for his hand and pressed it against my stomach under my shirt. He looked at me, puzzled for a second, before realization slowly dawned in his eyes.

"Wait, seriously? Is this... Is this what I think it is?" he asked, his voice filled with disbelief. I nodded, a grin spreading across my face.

"Yeah, it is. We're... We're gonna have a baby," I confirmed, finally managing to say it. "I'm pregnant... You're gonna be a dad."

"Holy shit, are you serious?" he beamed, cupping my face in his hands and planting a bunch of little kisses on my lips, making me giggle. "I can't believe this!"

"It's true, Dave. Just took the test."

"Oh man, we gotta tell everyone!" he exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "And we gotta start prepping the baby's room... You think it's gonna be a boy or a girl?"

I smiled, feeling my heart light up at Dave's enthusiasm. I'd been worrying for nothing, I realized. He'd never see this pregnancy as a setback. That guy had shown me his love time and time again, way more than I could ever measure, way more than I ever thought I deserved.

I knew he was gonna be an amazing dad.

July 27, 1994

Elise Rose Mustaine-Burton came into the world in the early hours of a summer morning.

When I finally got to hold her, sweat and tears mixed as my whole body ached, it was as if my world had shifted for a moment; holding her, I just knew – life would never be the same again.

I fell for her right away, a fierce, raw, and unconditional love that just flooded through me. It wasn't like I had to make room for her in my heart; it was more like her arrival had stretched it wide open, carving out a piece of my soul that was hers and hers alone, forever.

I could tell Dave felt it too. When he held her, a grin lit up his face, tears welling in his eyes as he cradled her against his chest. She was so small, and so unmistakably ours — her little tufts of hair already matching Dave's, her eyes a deep blue that could only have come from me.

First time breastfeeding hit me harder than I thought. I sat there, cradling her close as she suckled vigorously, trying to push through the pain. But the hormonal roller coaster I’d just gone through suddenly overwhelmed me. I blinked, tears welling up, and Dave slid in beside me on the bed, planting a gentle kiss on my cheek.

"You alright?" he asked, his voice laced with worry.

"Yeah, just stings a bit," I answered, my voice shaking. He gave me a gentle squeeze, careful not to jostle me too much.

"Want me to buzz the nurse?"

"Nah, I'll tough it out," I said, sniffling, and he wiped away the tears from my cheek. I let out a sigh of relief when Elise finally finished feeding, and Dave scooped her up while I got myself together, handing her back to me soon after.

"You're crying," he noted, and I looked up to meet his worried hazel eyes. "You sure you don't want me to call the nurse, babe?"

"I'm good," I said, wiping my face with one hand while holding Elise close with the other. "Just blame it on the hormones. Can you believe she's finally here?" I asked softly, my voice still shaky, and Dave grinned. "She looks just like you."

"She's got my hair, but that cute face is all yours," he remarked, gently holding her hand. Elise latched onto one of Dave's fingers right away, and I couldn't help but marvel at how tiny she was — five small fingers so delicate they almost looked like they belonged to a doll.

"How can you tell? Babies all look so similar at this age," I wondered, and Dave chuckled. I glanced up at him, tears welling in my eyes again as I smiled. "She's just perfect, Dave."

"She sure is. Just like her mom," he replied, and I let out a quiet laugh before resting my head on his shoulder. Feeling Elise's warmth against me was something entirely new, yet utterly wonderful, calming me down completely. Dave traced a finger lightly over her cheek, and she stirred in her sleep.

"My sweet Lizzie," he murmured, and the nickname sounded so perfect on his lips that I knew he'd hardly call her anything else from then on. He grinned, his eyes brimming with pure love as they met mine, and he planted a gentle kiss on my temple. "Can you believe we made her?" he whispered against my skin. "I didn't think it was possible to love you more than I already did, but you keep proving me wrong. How do you do it?"

“It’s easy,” I smiled. “You do the same for me.”

Dave smiled softly, giving me a light kiss before drawing me in closer. I let myself sink into his embrace, with our baby snug against me, and let out a contented sigh.

"I think I'm about to fall asleep," I mumbled, feeling my eyelids drooping.

"Course you are. You need some shut-eye," Dave chuckled, his smile practically audible, before gently transferring Lizzie to her crib. I grumbled softly, already missing the feel of her in my arms, but knowing it was best to wait until I was more awake to hold her. Dave settled back beside me on the bed, wrapping me in his arms, resting my head on his shoulder, and I let out a contented sigh, soaking in the warmth of his skin against mine. “I love you, Nore.”

"I love you too," I mumbled back, already drifting off, smiling as his lips brushed my forehead, and letting out a quiet laugh.

"What's on your mind?" Dave asked, grinning, and I shook my head.

"Just feeling damn lucky," I murmured, blinking open my eyes with a yawn. Dave cupped my face in his hand, stroking my cheek gently, a gesture so familiar, so him . I grinned, giving his jaw a light kiss, and he sighed. “I'm so lucky to be loved by you.”

It was actually kinda funny, you know, how lucky I was. The world might see Dave as this guy with a short fuse, sharp tongue, and a chip on his shoulder from all the crap life threw at him, but I didn’t. My Dave was not like that.

My Dave was sweet, affectionate, and thoughtful. He loved me, and he made damn sure I felt it, every single day of our lives.

And me? The longer I spent with him, the more I was sure that some things between us were simply meant to be.

We were always meant to fall in love. We were always meant to find one another. We were always meant to be together, for me to save him, for him to save me, every day, again, and again, and again.

We were always meant to love each other.

And I loved him.

God, how I loved him.

September 29, 1999

It was early morning when I finally rolled back home, tour fatigue dragging me down like a ton of bricks. No matter how many times I'd done this, coming back after weeks on the road always hit me like a truck. It was like all the exhaustion caught up to me at once, weighing me down.

The only thing stronger was the longing to see her.

Stepping inside, her voice coming from the kitchen welcomed me right away. I grinned, feeling like a kid again, head over heels in love with her. It was like my heart couldn’t quite wrap its head around how lucky I was to have her as my wife. Every time I laid eyes on her, it was like seeing her for the first time all over again — pure excitement and enchantment that I'd never felt with anyone else.

"What’s next?" she chirped as I strolled into the kitchen, her voice all sing-songy, setting off giggles from Lizzie, our little girl. I grinned at the sight; Nore was at the table, ingredients scattered about, while Lizzie sat on a stool, peeking over the table, her ginger hair tied up in pigtails, her blue eyes sparkling as she beamed at Nore.

"An egg!" Lizzie answered, so hyped up it cracked me up, catching both of their gazes. They both lit up with identical smiles when they spotted me, one a bit smaller and with a few less teeth than the other. "Daddy!" Lizzie squealed, beaming as I walked over, and I chuckled when she slapped her tiny hands on my chest, bouncing in her chair until I scooped her up, settling her on my lap. "We're making pancakes! Mommy said you get super hungry when you come home from work."

"No kidding?" I grinned, pulling her in close to my chest. She seemed taller and heavier since the last time I’d held her, but still the same gorgeous girl, a perfect mix of me and the woman I loved more than anything. "Well, she got that right. I am super, super hungry!" I nuzzled my face into her tummy, and she erupted into giggles, grabbing onto my hair as she cracked up, tossing her head back. Nore joined in, her laughter contagious, plastering an immediate smile on my face.

I plopped Lizzie back on her stool and turned to my wife, who flashed me a sweet grin as I cradled her face in my hands. I was itching to kiss her, to wrap her up tight in my arms and feel her melt against me, to trace every inch of her skin with my lips and my touch because no matter how close we got — it never felt close enough.

But Lizzie was watching us, so I settled for a quick peck on her lips. The more intense kisses would have to wait until night, when I’d take her clothes off and shower her with love, turning her into the most delightful mess of moans under my touch. She grinned into our kiss, her smile sweeter than ever (though honestly, every smile of hers just kept getting sweeter to me), and I couldn't resist kissing her one more time.

"Good to have you home," she said, and my heart swelled with warmth.

Later, after Lizzie had crashed out and we'd retreated to our bedroom, I finally got to pull Nore close, my lips trailing along her neck while she giggled softly, her arms snug around my shoulders as she perched on my lap.

"So, it's just you and me now?" she asked, all sweet-like, and I grunted, my hand drifting down to the little bump already poking out from her belly with our second kid on the way.

"Just you and me," I confirmed. With the tour wrapped up, I'd be sticking around until the new baby was born and the tough early months were behind us. Balancing the rockstar life with being a present dad and husband wasn't always easy, but I gave it my all. And man, was I lucky to have an understanding wife, who was also a wonderful mom, and one hell of a strong woman. No idea what I’d done to score such luck.

That night, every kiss I planted on her skin was filled with nothing but worship. I soaked up every second I got to touch her, her hushed moans echoing in the room as my tongue delved into the wetness between her legs, then her heavy breathing brushing against my cheek as she rode me slowly. Her chest pressed against mine, her arms locked around my neck, my hands guiding her hips in a steady rhythm as we moved together. Slow, tender kisses mixed with the sweetest moans I could ever wish to hear.

And then, after we finished, she cuddled up next to me, her bare skin cozy against mine as she lazily traced patterns on my chest with her fingertips. That had always been my favorite part — having her right there with me, knowing she was mine, that she wasn’t going anywhere, that her love was like a safe haven I could always come home to.

"I love you," she whispered, and I grinned, locking eyes with her. Eyes so blue I drowned, being pulled right into her soul.

"And I love you," I replied, my voice low and raspy. She laughed softly as I planted a gentle kiss on her lips. How damn lucky was I to always have her to come back to, no matter what, no matter where. To know that I'd always find her, over and over again, no matter the distance or the obstacles.

To know that if I had a hundred lifetimes, I'd choose to love her in every single one of them.

And by some miracle of fate, she was mine.

Mother of my children.

Light of my days.

Love of my life.

✧ the story's over, but if you'd like to be tagged on any eventual extra chapters, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧

tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9 @twice360noscope @ilovepapahet @decemberm0on

✦ a/n: And that's a wrap ❤

If you've been following along with this story, I just want to thank you with all my heart! It's been quite a journey for me, taking over a year to finish this fic. I've grown a ton as a writer, and I've had a blast interacting with all of you along the way. Honestly, when I first started posting, I never expected anyone to read it, so getting feedback from you all has been an awesome surprise. Your presence here has really kept me going, so thanks a million for that! 💖

So, we've reached the end of Nore's adventure, and it's been a happy one (just like I promised)! I might come back with a few extra chapters set in this universe down the road, but for now, I'm shifting gears to some other projects. If you want to stay in the loop, I'm always sharing updates about my fics right here on my blog!

If you've got any comments, feedback or reviews about the story, I'd love to read them. Thanks again for diving into Heartbreaker and enjoying the ride with me.

Catch you later! ❤

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