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zoeykallus · 28 days

Note

Look, sweetheart, I need Crosshair back with the batch. I need him to just find out about Tech. And I need him to come not only back to the batch, but too his lover (fem reader), and while they are having a rather hot reunion, he suddenly has a breakdown, trying to cope the news that Tech is gone. Reader comforts him, of course, catching him. Crosshair NEEDS a moment like that. Pretty please...

Aloha!

Yet another ancient request that slipped through the cracks. I'm so so so so sorry you had to wait so long for this. But I gotta tell you, I really like the scene that's just now unfolding in my head. Here we go, finally!

Crosshair x Fem!Reader One-shot - Don't Let Go Of Me

Warnings: 18+ (?) Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Strongly Suggestive/Sexual Themes/Fluff

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Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

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"But, where is Tech? Why isn't he chewing my ear off with his latest findings yet?" It quietens down completely in the cockpit of the Marauder. Only the soft hum of the shuttle can be heard. Every single one of you has known from the start, that this question would come sooner or later, but it still hits you like a sledgehammer. Hunter is the only one who manages to meet Crosshair's gaze. "Things went wrong during our first attempt to free you" You see Crosshair slowly frowning critically. As if to brace yourself, you slowly take a deep breath and exhale again, as if it's you hearing this news for the first time, not him. Shrugging his shoulders, the Sniper asks, "So, what does that mean?" "Tech didn't make it back. We'd all be dead without him. Plan 99," Echo says quietly. You see Crosshair swallow. A tremor runs through his hands for a moment, then he is completely motionless again. The Sniper avoids your gaze, not looking at you once. He knows how well you know him, that you can see his every emotion, no matter how hard he tries to hide it, and right now it's unsettling him far too much.

Crosshair blinks, his expression stony, he doesn't move a muscle. A long, awkward moment of silence ensues, no one says a word. But then, just as you expected, Crosshair immediately switches from sadness to anger. His gaze could have cut dura steel as he sets his sights on Hunter. His voice isn't loud, but it's cutting as he speaks, "Why? Why the hell did you even try this! I sent you this message to keep you away, to hide, to keep Omega safe!" Hunter grinds his teeth, clearly preoccupied with staying calm. He has enough guilt without Crosshair putting his finger on it. "Tech could still be alive if you'd just done the right thing once," the Sniper snarls, digging his finger into Hunter's chest, "Just one fucking time" You see Hunter grit his teeth, the tension beneath his surface. Echo pushes Crosshair's outstretched arm aside and says, "Hunter was against getting you. Tech and Omega insisted we try" Crossshair gruffly pushes Echo aside and snaps, "Doesn't matter," turning to Hunter he says, "You're the squad leader, you have the final say and you should have decided differently" Hunter growls softly, "I'm painfully aware of that"

Omega, who has been watching quietly until now, says quietly but clearly, "Tech and I insisted, we would never have given in" Crosshair snorts, pushing past Wrecker towards the ramp. "Where are you going?" asks Hunter. " Out of here, I can't breathe in here," the Sniper grumbles and disappears from your sight. Wrecker sighs, "Well, that went as well as expected" You pat Hunter gently on the shoulder and say, "You did the right thing, if it wasn't for Saw none of this would have happened. It wasn't your fault, and it wasn't Tech's or Omega's either" Hunter sighs wistfully and says, "Maybe" "Give Crosshair some time, he's just hearing this for the first time, he needs to digest the whole thing before he can deal with it properly," you tell him encouragingly.

Hunter growls, "He should pull himself together sooner or later, we all mourn Tech, he wasn't just his brother" After a sigh he adds, "Keep an eye on him please" You nod and say, "I'll give him some time alone, then I'll follow him"

You wait almost two hours before following Crosshair to the beach. Omega had already wanted to follow him, but you asked her to stay away from him for now and leave you to it. The girl reluctantly agreed, only when Hunter told her to stay in the ship did she let you go alone. As if the weather were adjusting to the general mood, dark clouds gather over Pabuu. In the distance, you hear a low rumble of thunder. Shortly afterward, it starts to rain, and not just a little. You sigh and continue walking towards the beach. As expected, you find Crosshair there, on a rockier part of the beach, with his rifle, firing at makeshift targets consisting of glass bottles and various stones. You don't have to watch him for long to realize that he is anything but at the top of his game. He repeatedly misses shots that he would normally hit at any time, regardless of the weather conditions.

The wind carries his growls, his half-suppressed curses to your ear and you sigh softly. He is completely agitated, no wonder he can't concentrate. As you get closer, you see the trembling in his hands, which he repeatedly clenches into fists, shakes and tries to relax before he takes his next shot. But suddenly he stops. You know he has sensed your presence. His head slowly turns in your direction. As you stand next to him, he growls, "I was wondering what was keeping you" "I thought I'd give you a little space before I ambush you" "Hmm," he grumbles quietly, puts the Firepuncher back in the holster on his back, and sits down on one of the wet rocks nearby. As you try to sit down next to him, he stops you, shaking his head, "The rocks are wet and freezing, you're sure to catch a cold if you sit on them for any length of time" "You sit on them too" He raises his eyebrows and says, "I'm a clone, Kitten, besides, I have my armor on, I don't get sick easily"

With a sigh, you put your hands in your jacket pockets. Your clothes are already soaked, you don't think it really matters whether you sit down on the cold stone or not, but you stand still. Somehow you had imagined the reunion between you two to be different. You know that he is not the type for exuberant emotional exchanges, but still. The euphoria you felt when you realized he was back, which you actually still feel, you wish you could see some of it in him. At the moment, you're not quite sure where you both stand. You don't quite know if he wants to hear it, but you say it anyway, "I missed you" He looks up at you from his seated position, his gaze strangely scrutinizing, then his eyes wander back to the horizon over the sea in the distance. "Not as much as I missed you," he mumbles softly, so softly that his words are almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. You're so surprised you don't know what to reply, but maybe no response is necessary for now. Crosshair licks his lips, wipes rainwater from his face, and looks up at you again.

"Is there a place here where we can be alone and undisturbed?" "We are alone" Crosshair rolls his eyes and says, "No we're not, Omega is sneaking around back there, behind the rocks" You sigh, turn around and shout, "Omega, go back to the ship!" "How did you see me?" the girl shouts back in disbelief. "I didn't. Please go back to Hunter, I have everything under control here" After Omega leaves, Crosshair looks at you, a barely noticeable smirk at the corner of his mouth. "So you have everything under control here?" You shrug your shoulders. "More or less." He chuckles. "Now is there somewhere we can be undisturbed and maybe get out of the rain?" the Sniper asks.

Crosshair takes off the Firepuncher, removes his gloves and takes off his chest plate as he looks around. "So this is where you live now?" "When we're not traveling, yes" The little cottage is nothing particularly meaningful, you don't actually spend much time here, there's hardly any decoration or features worth mentioning. But he does notice one thing. You follow his gaze as you notice that it lingers in one place for a long time. There's a target hanging at the head of your bed. "You really still have that thing?" He steps closer to the bed, his fingers gliding over the burn holes from blaster shots in the target hanging above it, over the initials you both carved into it after your first training session together. He laughs softly and says, "You were as happy as a baby when you got to use the Firepuncher" "I remember," you reply quietly.

You swallow and finally explain, still quietly, "When I realized you weren't coming back, that you were staying with the Empire, I dug out the target from my old stuff and hung it up. Most of our things were destroyed on Kamino, so I didn't have any pictures or anything of you. It was just my way of remembering you and dealing with the fact that you were gone" He sighs softly, gazing at the strange decoration above your bed for quite a while before turning to you. "I never left you" "Yes, you very much did. You knew I couldn't follow you on your path with the Empire, if only because of my political past. When you decided to stay there, you left me." He shakes his head and sighs again. "It's not that simple" You shrug your shoulders impatiently, you don't want to argue right now, not at all. "Does it matter? I don't expect an apology or an explanation. You did what you thought was right at the time, and at some point you realized it was wrong. These things happen," you say, peeling yourself out of your completely soaked jacket and throwing it on the floor.

"You just let me off the hook like that? I'd be pissed if I were you" You laugh humorlessly, "Yeah, I know you hold grudges" Crosshair comes over with a sigh and picks up your jacket from the floor. "Don't you have a hamper?" You laugh again. "Still such a neat freak? No, I don't, I don't spend too much time here" With another sigh, Crosshair lets the jacket fall to the floor again. "You're completely soaked," he notes. "It's raining," you say dryly. You're only wearing a tank top, which is also soaked, and a pair of shorts under your jacket. His fingers graze your shoulders, which immediately makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "Your skin is all chilled out, take off the rest of your wet clothes"

You laugh softly and say, "You just want to see me naked" He nods and admits, "That too, yes. But you're really chilled out." Crosshair watches you unabashedly as you take off the rest of your clothes, including your underwear, and finally stand naked in front of him. He takes a deep breath and finally says, "It's been a long time since I've seen anything so beautiful" The next moment your lips meet, they are as soft and warm as you remember them. The moment as you get closer, as his face approaches yours, is somehow a blur, as if it never happened, as if his lips had simply always been on yours. You help Crosshair out of his armor and blacks, the pieces flying carelessly to the floor on your way to bed. You roll through the sheets, hands and lips everywhere. If you're not mistaken, you can feel one of his hands shaking occasionally, but you're not really in a position to pay much attention to it at the moment. His fingers trail down your body, as do his lips, reaching for your body, pressing against you, naked and ravenous. Crosshair seems so greedy, almost desperate, as he caresses you, moaning under your every touch as if it's the first time anyone has touched him like this.

He's honest with you, direct. "It's been a long time since I've been able to relieve myself, I don't know how long I can last today" Your lips graze along his lower jaw and elicit an excited sigh. "You know that doesn't matter to me, being this intimate with you is enough for me" Crosshair rolls his eyes, but then says, "I know, but you also know that it matters to me that you get what you need. But right now... I just don't know how long this will last, and I need you now, your body, your closeness" You feel his hard cock twitch as it rests on your pubic area and open your thighs a little wider. "You're safe here, Crosshair, I love you. Come here, melt into me" The look he gives you is enough, he doesn't need to say the words back, the relief, the gratitude, the depth of affection in those otherwise serious eyes is worth a thousand words.

As he enters your body, his hard length stretching and filling your wet heat, you let out a deep, relieved sigh from your lungs. You've missed this feeling so much. It's strange, you feel much less arousal at the moment, more deep relief, a strange euphoria and affection. You smile rapturously as Crosshair climaxes, as expected, after a relatively short time and a few intense thrusts into your pussy. The sound that leaves his throat is both a moan and a whimper, it sounds relieved, surprised and in a strange way... desperate. Concerned, you gently stroke his bare back with your fingertips. He remains lying on top of you, most of his weight resting on his forearms, his head buried in the hollow between your head and shoulder. Then you feel it. A slight tremor goes through his upper body, especially through his shoulders, his breathing is heavy, irregular. A quiet sob, half smothered by your neck and the pillow. Holy shit, is all you can think right now. Crosshair has shown himself vulnerable to you before, in his, odd, often reluctant way, but this is new.

Silently, you draw gentle, soothing circles on his back while his tears wet your neck. There are no correct words now, you realize, this is something that needs to come out of him, uncommented. You don't know how much time has passed, maybe an hour or two. Crosshair is getting heavier on you. You don't want to bother him, don't want to push him away, but slowly you can barely breathe. "Cross," you say softly, a little breathlessly, "I can barely catch my breath" He straightens up with such a sudden jolt that you startle a little. "Sorry," he mumbles, hastily wipes his still tear-streaked face and starts to get dressed. His eyes are all red and swollen, you've never seen him like this before. Quietly, secretly, your heart breaks at the sight. You wish you could do something, but you know you can't force your care on him, that's not how Crosshair works. You have to offer him opportunities that he can take on his own terms and as he feels. "There's no need to apologize," you say gently. Crosshair sighs softly, "I know it's not particularly romantic to just leave after what we just did, but I need some fresh air, alone"

So he withdraws, again. Actually, you're not surprised. A relationship with Crosshair is sometimes a bit like a game of tug-of-war or patience. You stifle a sigh and continue to smile at him. "That's okay. You know where to find me whenever you need me." Crosshair sighs in relief, he didn't really expect you to make a scene. But the circumstances are a little different compared to normal, and basically he couldn't have blamed you if you'd been angry that he wanted to leave, he's aware of that. "Thank you," he says quietly, almost in a whisper, before opening the door and walking out into the rain. With a sigh, you go into the bathroom, clean yourself up and finally lie back in bed when there is a sudden knock at the door. "Who is it?" The door opens very slowly and Crosshair sticks his head in. "Cross?" you ask in surprise. "Yeah... I've changed my mind," he says a little uncertainly, entering the room and closing the door behind him again, "I don't think I want to be alone after all, I've been alone long enough, and I feel better with you."

Your eyes widen in surprise, but then you give him a warm smile. Crosshair clears his throat a little awkwardly and asks, "Would you mind if I stayed the night?" Your smile widens, and you say, "You know very well that you can stay here every night for all I care" A smirk twitches at the corner of his mouth. You reach out to him and Crosshair hurriedly takes off his gear, crawls under the covers and into your arms, wrapping his own arms around your body. With a deep sigh of relief, he leans his head against your chest and whispers so softly it's almost not even a whisper anymore, "I love you, don't let go of me" At the same volume, you whisper back, "Never" and feel him wrap his arms a little tighter around you.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

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@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

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@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

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from-the-clouds · 1 year

Text

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. ix

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: “When you're born in a burning house, you think the whole world is on fire. But it's not.” - Richard Kadrey, Aloha from Hell. But maybe it's about to be. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5.0k chapter warnings: HEAVY ANGST. Panic attacks. Referenced death of a parent. References to abusive/neglectful parents. Complicated sibling/familial relationships. Alcohol consumption, smoking. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: I know it's annoying, but the thing about me is that I’m never able to write compelling things if I don’t include complex family/sibling relationships. Like I’m so obsessed with putting them in everything, even my stupid little love stories. But it does serve a purpose, I promise. There is an important character in this chapter….just saying.

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-September 15, 2003-

Joel can sense that something is off with you the minute you get home from work.

For starters, your voice sounds a bit too syrupy-sweet when you come through your garage door, and chirp out ‘Hey!’ when you spot him sitting on the couch in your front room, your cat curled up on his lap.

Just ten minutes earlier, he’d let himself in, using the spare key you’d given him and Sarah. Your house felt vacant, dark, and shockingly quiet without you there, and so he’d turned on the lights, put on a record, and washed the plate, two mugs, and a bowl that were sitting in your sink.

Joel stirs, and Martini immediately jumps off his lap as though he’d personally offended him in some way. “Hey, darlin,” he stands, accepting your affectionate kiss on the cheek. “How was your day?”

When you pretend you don’t hear him, that’s the second thing that tips him off. You turn to hang your messenger bag over the hook in your front closet. And then you flex your fingers like you’re trying to stretch them out, cracking your knuckles one at a time with your thumbs, and rolling your shoulders back before heading into the kitchen and gesturing for him to follow.

“Do you…uh….do you want something?” you turn your head slightly, but not enough to meet his eyes. “Let me get you something.”

He follows after you tentatively, remaining silent until he figures out what's going on. Martini, who was walking underfoot, scatters out of the way as your heels click over the tile and retreats to a safe distance alongside Joel, who pauses to lean against the threshold.

Even despite the clear tension in the room, he can’t help but check you out. Before, Joel wouldn’t say that he necessarily had a type, it still is a little shocking that he ended up with someone like you.

Before you speak again, you retrieve two lowball glasses out of your cabinet along with a bottle of his favorite whiskey, and pour two drinks, turning to offer him one. He accepts it cautiously, and you nod at him before taking a long pull of your drink.

“So uh,” you say. “There’s something I kind of need to talk to you about.”

You take another sip and then unbutton your blazer, shimmying out of it and tossing it over a barstool. Pushing the sleeves of your blouse up to your wrists, you cross your arms and chew on your bottom lip, like you are trying to decide how to break some sort of horrible news to him. Joel prepares for the worst. He racks his brain for anything he could’ve done or said recently that might have upset you, maybe even scared you off. But he’s coming up with nothing. What could he have done?

At this point, his parents even know about you, even if he hasn’t had the chance to introduce you. His mother tries, in her I’m-not-prying-but-I’m-definitely-prying type of way, to get more information out of him. She asks him questions like ‘Do you think she’s the one?’ and he doesn’t answer directly but it does make him think. He already knows you’re his one. He just wonders if he is yours.

It’s consistently been his fatal flaw. Joel falls hard, even when it’s not right. It’s how he has always been, and that’s how he ended up alone with Sarah in the first place. The very thought of you ending things makes him feel sick. He knows he’s in love with you, that he doesn’t want to look elsewhere. It’s becoming harder and harder to hold back. You’ve filled up all this space in his life that he didn’t even know existed. What is he going to do with it once you leave?

“What’s going on?” Joel asks, hoping his voice doesn’t sound as pinched as his throat feels.

“I should’ve told you this earlier,” you begin. “But….my dad has been sick the past few months.”

“Oh,” Joel says, but relaxes just a little, which feels a little selfish because it’s still unfortunate news. “I’m sorry to hear that. What’s going on?”

“It’s fine. I’m not really sure. Just…my brother called me today and apparently he’s taken a turn for the worse. The doctors…they think he doesn’t have that much time left. I…I need to go see him, I think. Before…” you don’t finish your sentence, you just shrug and look down.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah no, it’s fine, I’m fine,” you say dismissively. “I actually booked a redeye that leaves tomorrow night. I wanted to make sure I could still take Sarah to the office with me for her career day and everything, so you don’t have to worry about that. So yeah.”

“Do you need to leave earlier?” He asks. “She can always come to work with me.”

“No, no…” you give a soft smile. “I made a commitment, and….I want her to see how boring my job really is.”

Joel wants to smile back at you, but he doesn’t. Because despite the jokes, when you meet his eyes for a second, they look so dull and desolate it feels like it’d be inappropriate.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be,” Joel sets his glass down just as you pick up yours for another hearty gulp before continuing. “I got my company to approve me working remotely for two weeks. I don’t think it will be that long, but…I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing for?” Joel reaches out and rests a hand on your own. “You should go be with your family. Sarah and I will be fine.”

“I know that. I just…I don’t really want to go,” you say. “But I’ll feel bad for the rest of my life if I don’t…and at the very least, I need to be there for my brother. He’s closer with my dad than I am.”

Bringing the glass back to your mouth, you take another sip – at this point, the drink is nearly gone. Joel steps behind you, because he can’t really hug you the way you are now, facing forward and bracing yourself on the countertop. “Come ‘ere,” he murmurs softly, pulling you back against his chest. For a second, you tense. It’s like you’re surprised, still, that all he wants to do is be gentle with you. Once you remember, he feels your body relax, and your head falls back to tuck under his chin, one of your hands clutches his arm that wraps across your collarbone. “I wish you could come with me,” you say.

“Me too,” Joel says against the top of your head. He knows he can’t. Not with Sarah, and not with work being the way it has been. Unfortunately, the excuse probably wouldn’t go over well with the guys there. Not that he cares that much what they think, but he can’t jump ship right now. “But I’d have to find someone to look after Sarah….maybe I could ask my parents.”

“No,” you shake your head. “No, no. I don’t want to put anyone out.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s fine,” you insist. “Everything will be fine.”

“Well at the very least, do you need me to take you to the airport?”

“You’d endure rush hour traffic for me?” you tilt your head back to look up at him.

Joel laughs softly, leans down for a kiss. “That and more.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 17th, 2003-

The room you’re in is dark, but the lack of awareness of your surroundings seems to be the only thing keeping you from suffocating. You’re standing in your childhood bedroom, which doesn’t look much like it used to. It's a guest room now, but it never really felt like yours all the way, did it? You clutch at your stomach – you’ve been nauseous ever since your plane touched down at JFK – and reach towards your old dresser to steady yourself.

The vanity that had once been scattered with trinkets and trophies and photos of childhood memories was now vacant – pristine and polished. You wondered if the items had been thrown out, or dumped in a box somewhere in your old closet. It almost doesn’t matter – you aren’t interested in digging up any more memories. The feeling of your fathers hand clasped around your own had done enough.

You inhale deeply, bracing yourself against the glass top as you try not to throw up or pass out. For some reason, you had underestimated what you were walking into, and hadn’t expected your body to react so….viscerally. On the other side of the closed door, you hear your name, muffled from down the hall.

It’s hard to make out who it is, perhaps your stepmother, Meredith, or some other distant relative you hadn’t seen in years who had crawled out of the woodwork and now lingered in the apartment, hoping to get their piece. But you’ve locked yourself away. That’s what you had gotten so good at whilst living here. Hiding.

Until the door opens, and you squint against the light that floods the room to find the only person who has always known where to find you. Your brother.

“Hey. Ethan and Elizabeth are on their way up,” he says, then pauses. “Why are you standing in the dark?”

The lightswitch clicks, and the harsh ceiling lamp illuminates, starting the fan up with it and causing you to shiver. Vincent is frowning, standing halfway into the doorframe, his brows pinched.

You widen your eyes at him. Come on, don’t give me away yet. “Will you please turn that off?”

Vincent rolls his eyes, but obeys, switches on your desk lamp instead and closes the door behind him. “Are you okay?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know that you aren’t.

“It was a lot…being in there with him,” you look at the floor.

“Well, at least you know he still likes you. He’s not going to take you out of the will.”

It feels like a smack across the face, and your jaw drops. How could he be so oblivious to your pain, when he’s the only person in this house, in the world, maybe, who understands exactly how you are feeling right now. “Is that all you think I care about?”

“No, I-”

“I’m here because of you,” you say. “You wanted me here. So I came, and I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh come on,” he says. “Don’t say shit like that.”

“I wish I wasn’t here,” you continue on, despite his wishes. “I wish I didn’t have to wait my entire life to hear him say those things.”

Vincent’s expression shifts. He had been in the room. He had heard it. Your dad had been so….sweet. Gentle. Whispering praises even though his eyes were closed. You had expected, had wanted cruelty. This was somehow worse. Maybe he had known what you wanted all along, held it over your head, and waited only until the end of his life to give it to you. Even his admission of love was somehow malicious. Nevertheless, it didn’t stop you from regretting everything you’d done to get away from him.

Just outside the door is the flight of stairs that leads to your father’s room. And suddenly you aren’t an adult. You feel as helpless and as scared as you did when you were just a little girl – looking up at him, the view of his figure obscured by your brother’s shoulder.

“God, it’s so fucked up.” you choke out.

Vincent steps forward wordlessly, pulls you into a hug, and it’s only after you hear a quiet sob leave him that you let your own tears fall. There’s nothing either of you can say to fix the damage that has been done, so all you can do is cling to each other and cry.

“I know it’s fucked up,” he says. “I know. Maybe I should’ve….I could’ve done more.”

You pull back, relieved to see your tears didn’t ruin his cashmere sweater. “What could you have done?” you ask, dejectedly. “We were kids.”

Vincent doesn’t know how to answer that, but he wipes his nose with the back of his hand, and looks at the ground a moment before lifting his head. “We’ve got each other.”

But that’s hardly true anymore, and he knows it. You’ll always resent each other for different reasons – he had adapted to the circumstances, and you had left them. Neither strategy did anything to fix the damage.

You’re still weeping, but softer now, face wet with tears that fall everytime you blink. Swiping under your eyes, you sigh and attempt to compose yourself.

“Come on,” Vincent says. “Say hi to Ethan and Elizabeth. Dad is stable for the time being. We can take a walk or something. Get some fresh air.”

“Okay,” you agree. “I’ll be out in a second. I have to get my shit together.”

After he leaves, you check your makeup in the vanity, wiping away some smudged mascara before following him out. When you enter the front room, still sniffling, you pray that you don’t have a run-in with any other family members. But the only person you see besides Vincent is your sister-in-law coming through the door.

Elizabeth’s face is pinched in concentration as she tries to wrangle your nephew out of his coat. “What up, champ?” Vincent holds a hand out for a high five, just in time for her to free Ethan’s arms so he can reach towards his father, who stoops to accept his hug.

“Hi, Daddy.”

Elizabeth steps back and makes eye contact with you as you approach. In the past, you pitied her for the decision to marry into your family and then go on to have children with your brother. She was a little too good for him. But now, you feel like that was kind of a callous way of looking at things. You wonder if your brother would feel the same way about Joel for getting mixed up with you. Fortunately, Joel is still a well-kept secret.

“Hey, it’s good to see you,” Elizabeth says. “I’m so sorry it’s under these circumstances.”

“It’s alright,” you accept her hug and return her kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, too.”

She looks down at her son. “Honey, do you remember your aunt?”

“Hey, Ethan,” you crouch alongside your brother, and he nods, but still side-steps closer to his dad and smiles over at you bashfully. “How are you doing?”

“Good.”

“Don’t be shy,” Vincent encourages, but your nephew doesn’t seem interested in your attempt at an embrace, so you let them drop by your side.

“It’s okay,” you stand up, feeling a fresh batch of tears threatening their way to your waterline. Ethan’s treating you like a stranger because you basically are one.

“You’ve met a lot of new people the last few days, haven't you?” Elizabeth asks, then looks over at you. “He might be a little overwhelmed. He’ll warm up.”

Vincent stands at the sight of you starting to cry. “I am going to take her to get some air,” your brother puts a hand on your shoulder, speaking about you as if you are not in the room with them. You feel so useless, you might as well not be.

“That sounds good,” Elizabeth says. “We can catch up later. I ought to say hello to Meredith.”

You both nod, stepping into the hallway.

The fresh air helps, even if you can’t go far from the apartment. You walk around the block in silence, which gives you a chance to compose yourself. It’s a surprisingly warm day, although it’s much colder in New York than it is in Austin this time of year. In early fall, the leaves have only just begun turning.

You’re about to turn the corner to the stretch of sidewalk that leads back home, when Vincent plops himself down on a bench without warning. He fishes through the front pocket of his jacket and retrieves a flask.

“Jesus, Vincent,” you mutter under your breath. “Right now?”

“Uhm, yeah,” he answers. When you scoff, he continues, rolling his eyes. “Oh, get off your high horse. It’s just a little.”

“Aren’t you sad?”

“Of course I’m fucking sad,” he defends. “But I go to therapy now, so….I’m better at processing.”

“Yeah?” you gesture towards the flask. “Is that what this is called?”

“No. But it is the only way I can deal with Meredith.”

“You’re insane,” you say, but can already feel your exasperation fading. In your absence, he’s been dealing with all this alone. “Give me that.” Reaching forward towards the flask, he jerks his hand away just before you make contact.

“I’m not sharing.”

You pout at him. Come on. He rolls his eyes and passes it over. “Fine.”

While you take a sip, he produces a pack of cigarettes and plucks one out of the carton. “You don’t smoke these anymore, do you?”

“Not really. But I still have not managed to kick the weed habit.”

“Well I’m jealous,” he says, lighting it. “Now that Elizabeth and Ethan live with me again, I really have had to get my shit together.”

I’m sure you’ll fuck it up soon enough, you’re primed to say, but even as a joke, you feel like it’s a little too mean. It’s okay to let this be a nice moment.

“You know, if you wanted,” he says. “You could stay here for a couple months. I can get you set up with a place in the city. It might be good to be home…after…” You do your best to ignore his reference to the inevitable storm that hangs over your heads.

Any other time, and the offer might tempt you. This is your home, always would be, and you will always feel called to it. If you came back, all your family and childhood friends would be here. And without your father, things may be different. But now you have other priorities. “I can’t do that,” you shake your head.

“Why not?” He asks. You sit down on the bench, swipe the pack of cigarettes from where they sit between you, and take one for yourself. “Didn’t you say you were approved to work remotely?”

“No, it’s not that,” you light the cigarette and take a pull, coughing when you inhale too deeply. It’s not a joint. “I actually….met someone.”

Vincent frowns like he doesn’t believe you. “Really?”

“Yeah….he’s actually my next door neighbor.”

“Oh, you managed to wrangle a fucking cowboy-”

“How many times have I told you? I don’t live on a farm. You know what? Nevermind,” you roll your eyes, shake your head. “Forget I mentioned it..”

“Relax, I’m joking. Always so emotional-”

“Emotional? Emotional?” you ask. “Remind me which one of us was the one who had to be sent to a-”

Vincent’s eyes roll back, and his head tilts with them. “Oh, here we go.”

“It’s not a joke to me,” you say, desperate to end the argument, and it actually works.

“So is this….serious?”

You shake your head. “I mean, I…I think I’m in love.” It’s not as insane to say out loud as you had expected.

“I didn’t think you cared about that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t either. But…I don’t know. It just sort of happened.”

“What’s his name?”

“Joel,” you say. “He’s got a daughter, Sarah…she’s sweet. So is he…hardworking, thoughtful, kind….” you trail off, and veer away from becoming too sincere. “In other words, he’d fucking hate you.”

“Yeah, you know I repel the honest type.”

“No,” you correct him. “I actually think you’d get along. And you’d like Sarah. She’s funny.”

“I’m sure you’re a great influence on her,” he quips, sarcastically.

“I’m good with kids. I’ve always been a good aunt to Ethan?” you insist. “....when he knows who I am, at least.”

Vincent chuckles. “He knows who you are, he’s just in a shy phase. That or I’ve already fucked him up.”

You’ve heard some variation of the same from Joel while talking about Sarah, and it makes you smile, just a little, and wonder how terrifying it must be to have a child of your own.

“You couldn’t,” you tease. “Elizabeth wouldn’t allow it.”

He nods as if you’ve made a good point. “So that’s it? You’re really never coming home?”

“I mean, never say never,” you say. “At the very least, I should probably visit more often. I could bring them sometime to meet everyone. We could try to be a normal family.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Where’s the fun in that?”

Only your brother could find a way to make you laugh even under such dire circumstances. For a while, you’re quiet, and then you speak up again. “Being in love….it’s fucking scary.”

“That’s part of it,” he says. You sigh, shake your head, and put out your cigarette. “I’m happy for you,” he says, after a while.

“Thanks,” you smile. “I’m happy for you, too.”

Despite the fact that your stomach still hurts, you’re sleep deprived from the flight, and your father is standing at death’s door, you are thankful for what feels like a huge step forward.

─── �� ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 19, 2003-

Joel’s hand stretches out to stop whatever thing is ringing in his ear at such an ungodly hour. His phone. He doesn’t even think, just answers it. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registers it might be important.

“Hello?” he grumbles.

“Hey,” He can tell instantly that something is wrong. “I’m sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t check the time.”

Joel looks at the clock. It’s six in the morning for you, and he’s never known you to be an early riser. He already knows what you’re going to tell him, but he asks anyway. “Yes but it’s alright. Are you okay?”

“My dad is gone.”

“Oh, baby,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you say, shockingly stoic. “It will be okay. I just, I wanted you to know I’ll be staying longer than I thought. I’ve got to help my-” you clear your throat. “I’ve got to help Vincent with the arrangements and then my dad wanted his ashes scattered somewhere in Colorado. It’s where he grew up, so I’ll probably go there before I fly back, and-” You keep rambling, and Joel cuts you off.

“Hey that’s fine, that’s okay. Don’t you worry about that.”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna miss your birthday,” you say. “I had this whole thing planned where I was gonna take you and Sarah out to dinner, and it was gonna be really nice and-”

“We can celebrate another time,” Joel insists. “It’s okay. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, so quick it sounds like a reflex. “I knew it was going to happen, so...”

“Are you sure?” He doesn’t want to push you, but it’s very clear you’re holding something back.

“Yeah, I…” you trail off. “I don’t know.”

Joel doesn’t answer right away, just gives you a little space to process. The silence is excruciating, and lasts so long that he wonders if you’ve hung up. But eventually, you speak again.

“I don’t….I don’t feel anything,” your voice breaks, all strained and choked and horrible. “I feel like I should.” You’re hundreds of miles away, and Joel has never felt so helpless. “Something….something is really wrong with me. I can’t-”

“Babygirl,” he hears himself say, doing everything he can to calm you down. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

He hears you take in a sharp, staggered inhale on the other line, struggling to catch your breath. “I wish you were here with me.”

Me too, I wish I was too. He wants to say, but all he feels is panic, tight around his throat. He feels like if he can’t get to you, something horrible will happen. What had he been thinking, letting you walk into this alone? Things must have been worse than you had let on. “Maybe I can try to figure something out.”

But almost as quickly as you lose control of yourself, he hears you clear your throat, a hard swallow. “It’s….it’s…it will all be fine. I will be okay, sorry, I just…” Joel can’t tell if you’re answering him, or if you’re talking to yourself.

Joel knows the routine pretty well at this point, each time you show any sort of vulnerability, you immediately pull back – like there’s some invisible boundary you’ve crossed that snaps you back into place if you test it. He’d be able to actually help you if he was there. In some ways, you being so open with him, but only over the phone….makes sense. It’s just another way to avoid him. He won’t resent you for it, but it doesn’t make him hurt any less.

“What can I do?” Joel asks. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine, Joel. I promise,” you sniffle, clearing your throat, pulling yourself together. “I’ll be home soon and everything can just…go back to normal.”

“Yes, it will,” he says. “You’ll get through this. And you’ll come home to Sarah and I. I’ll have a martini and a back rub waiting for you the second you walk in the door.

“God,” you say. “You’re so hot.”

Joel chuckles, relieved to hear your smile.

“You know,” your breathing steadies. “I would like you and Sarah to come out here. Not now. But another time.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I was thinking about it. My brother has plenty of room. We could crash here, and you could meet everyone. I mean, Vincent comes across as like….such an fucking asshole, really, truly…but I don’t know. I think ultimately you’ll get along.”

“I’m sure we will,” Joel breathes softly.

“You just have to promise you won’t leave me if you don’t.”

“That wouldn’t make me leave you.” It’s you I love. He’s not going to tell you that over the phone. So he settles. “You are what I care about.”

“I feel the same,” you say softly.

You’re silent for a spell.

“I probably should go and eat something. I’ve felt awful for like three days straight and I finally have an appetite. And there’s really no problem that can’t be solved by a bodega sandwich.”

Joel chuckles. “I’m sure you’ll feel better if you eat something.”

“I will call you later, okay?” you say. “Thank you, Joel. I miss you, and I’ll see you soon.”

“I miss you too,” he murmurs. “I’ll see you soon.”

See you soon. For the next few days, everytime you call each other, every conversation ends with the same promise. Neither of you are aware it’s one you can’t keep.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-September 26th, 2003-

Joel sits in the front seat of Tommy’s car, and tries to hide the fact that his hands are shaking. There’s blood spattered on the front of his shirt, blood that didn’t belong to him. He’s done a lot of things to protect Sarah. To protect his family. He’d used that turn of phrase, that he’d kill for them, in passing, but never actually thought he’d have to do it. He did. He did. And he’s suddenly scared of what else he might be capable of.

He does not want this burden, to be a protector, but he has no choice. It has been his entire life. First an older brother. Then, a father. It’s worth more than his own peace, than his own life. He would sacrifice that every time if it kept his family safe.

And you, too.

He’s only just now looking down at his phone, trying to block out the noise of the voices on the radio that cut in and out of static. And it’s not because it’s broken. The world he knows is crumbling, he’s freefalling towards the earth, and he’s gotta grab the only things that matter or they will perish upon impact.

Sarah says your name from behind him. “Do you think she’s okay?”

It’s the first minute he’s had to think since he arrived at the prison to bail out Tommy. He has several missed calls from you and one voicemail. He doesn’t even think to listen, just immediately tries to call you back.

“I don’t know, babygirl.” The phone doesn’t even ring. Sarah’s hand falls to his shoulder and he squeezes it tightly, hoping she can’t feel that it’s still trembling. Joel has no cell service, and none of the calls are going through even after trying several times over.

Joel looks down at his watch to see what time it is. It’s working now, thanks to Sarah, who had told him that she’d got it fixed at a place you had recommended before you left. It’s delusional, but he hopes maybe this isn’t happening in Colorado. You’d called him this morning to wish him a happy birthday, things had been fine then. How could it all fall apart so quickly?

He accepts that he can’t reach you, and listens to the voicemail you’ve left.

“Hey Joel, I….something is going on here. I don’t know if it’s happening everywhere. People are sick. It’s….it’s…If I don’t see you again I hope I- I want you to know that I love you. Okay? You and Sarah. Thank you, Joel. Please…please stay safe.”

I love you, too. Why didn’t he just say it when he had the opportunity to? What had he been thinking?

Joel tells himself that this is not the end. Things will settle, even if it takes time, and you will keep yourself safe. You won’t get sick. All the promises you made to each other will be kept. Even as he tells himself this, he knows it’s probably a lie.

Still, he indulges. Things will go back to normal. As long as he keeps himself safe, he’ll find his way back to you again. It’s just a matter of time.

But his hope for the future, for anything else, dies an hour later.

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