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avengerscompound · 4 years

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The Tower: The Queen of Asgard - 25

The Tower: The Queen of Asgard An Avengers Fanfic

Series Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Pairing: Avengers x OFC, Bruce Banner x Bucky Barnes x Clint Barton x Wanda Maximoff x Steve Rogers x Natasha Romanoff x Tony Stark x Thor x Sam Wilson x OFC (Elly Cooper)

Word Count: 1872

Warnings: None

Synopsis: The twins are now three and while the Avengers know that Clint and Thor are the biological father’s none of them know or care which blond, blue-eyed baby is related to which man. When Riley gets the power to control wind and it becomes evident that she is the heir to the Asgardian throne, Elly, Steve, Thor, and Tony take the twins to Asgard to train her.

Not every Asgardian is happy with their king’s choice of consort, nor the impurity of the heir’s blood. While others expect Thor to make things more official. What’s clear is, the role of Queen of Asgard is not easily filled.

Author’s Note: Written with the little free bird @fanficwriter013

Chapter 25: Dress Shopping

The following day things went into major Bonding Ceremony planning mode. We had a week and a half for the whole thing to be prepared. Thankfully most of the organization was not exactly up to us. There was a date, venue, and chefs with an arranged menu all just built into the fact this was a royal event. The high-priest was on call. So we really just had to worry about the clothes. Which was still an issue given the short time frame.

Because only Thor had friends and family to help him pick out his clothing the rest of us formed trios just to help decide on the designs. We wouldn’t see the end result until the day, but that way we at least had some people who would be secret and some that we helped make the choice.

Tony, Steve, and Clint formed one group, Bruce, Bucky, and Sam another, while Wanda, Natasha, and I would be helping each other choose dresses.

It was early in the morning that the tailors arrived and we split up. Natasha, Wanda, and I were in my bedroom in a sea of fabric, sketches and potential dresses on hangers trying to find something perfect, or to at least mix and match things until we got to what we considered perfect.

I was going through the racks while Wanda and Natasha were putting fabrics in piles of yes, no and maybe. I took a dress off the rack that was made in a material like chiffon that had a skirt that was sheer and pleated. The neckline plunged down to the stomach and around the waist and around the trim, there was an intricate gold filigree that ran up, forming capped sleeves.

“What about this, Tasha? It looks very you.” I said, holding the dress up to her.

Natasha tilted her head and looked it up and down. “I’d have to see it on.” She said. “I’m still not sure if I want a white dress.”

“If you like the design, we can change the fabric, my lady.” One of the tailors said. “It will be made to fit you exactly of course.”

Natasha nodded. “I’ll try it on and see what it looks like.”

Two of the tailors took the dress off me and bustled Natasha behind a screen where they started stripping her off and dressing her again. I went and sat on the bed next to Wanda and started looking through fabrics that Natasha might like with that dress design.

Natasha stepped out from behind the screen and I nearly burst into tears. It was her dress. She looked the blend of beautiful, sexy, dangerous and soft that was exactly who Natasha was. She was right, white wedding dresses weren’t for her, but the design was perfect.

“What do we think?” Natasha said, turning around and pulling the skirt out so it floated around her as she moved. “Maybe in black?”

Wanda squeaked and I covered my mouth. “Oh my god! Oh my god, Tasha!”

“What?” Natasha asked, looking down.

“You look so beautiful,” I said, waving my hands in front of my eyes. “I’m gonna cry.”

“But in black. Right?” Natasha asked.

“What about red?” Wanda asked.

“Oh, yes,” Natasha said looking at herself in a mirror. “Red would work really well.”

“It would be perfect in red.” I agreed.

“Alright,” Natasha said coming over and looking at the different colors they had available in the fabric that was in the dress. “What about you two slowpokes?”

“I like this fabric,” I said holding up a soft shimmering fabric that blended from purple to blue to gold to green, like an oil slick. I liked that it had a color that represented each of them and how each color blended into the next. “But I haven’t found a design I like.”

“That fabric is very you,” Natasha agreed.

I got up and started to look at the dresses on the racks again, this time with the piece of fabric that I wanted. Wanda got up with me and started going through them too.

“I keep coming back to this one,” she said pulling out a dress with a satin corset and a layered, fabric a little like mesh and a little like chiffon. It came with a lace shrug, a slightly different shade of off white than the rest. “But white is the wrong color.”

“Try it on,” I said.

“Alright, bossy.” Wanda teased, going behind the screen with the dress.

As the tailors helped Wanda into her dress there was a thud and scratch sound at the door.

Natasha’s head snapped towards the door. “What was that?” She said. “The boys know they’re under penalty of death if they come anywhere near here.”

I went and opened the door a crack to discover Riley and Pietro standing there. They were supposed to be with Thor and had obviously snuck out of his room because Pietro was dragging Mjolnir behind him.

“What the hell?” I said opening the door more. Riley came running in and Pietro swung the hammer up and toddled in after her.

“Solynshka,” Natasha said seriously. “That is not a toy. That is Daddy Thor’s.”

“Dis mew mew,” Piet said swinging it around.

“Shit! Piet! No, honey!” I yelped, jumping back.

“Pietro, give that to Mama,” Nat said, holding her hand out.

“No, mama,” he whined and Riley took the hammer from him and tried to use it like a hobby horse.

“Okay, that’s enough, you two,” Natasha said firmly. “This is not a toy!”

“Sowwy, mama,” they said together and they both dragged it over to Natasha.

“That’s better,” Natasha said and picked up the hammer. Just like that. No ceremony. No thinking about it. Just reaching down and picking her up. There was a crackle in the air and she tossed it, so it flipped in the air and she caught it again. “I’ll just take this.”

“Natalia Alianovna Romanova!” I yelped.

She stopped and looked at Mjolnir in her hand. “I didn’t think this through,” she said. “How do I give this back to Thor?”

“Do you not want him to know?” I asked.

She shook her head. “I don’t need that kind of pressure.”

“Umm, change. Then put it under some fabric and then sneak it back out there.” I said.

“Okay,” she said. She picked up the fabrics she’d been going through and showed them to the tailors. “These ones.”

They took her behind the screen with Wanda and while they helped her out of her dress, the others continued pinning different things to Wanda’s. “I hope I don’t need to pee while I’m in this,” Wanda said.

“You’ll need a team.” Natasha teased.

I took two dresses off the rack. One had a similar fabric to Natasha’s dress, sheer and floaty. The hem of the skirt was etched with intricate gold filigree that reached up to mid-knee, while the bust had an asymmetric neckline and one sheer sleeve. Both the neckline and sleeve had the same filigree design. The other was halter neck with a plunging neckline and what looked like gold butterflies grouped around the waist. The skirt of the second was simple and made of a thicker fabric than the first. “One of these?” I asked.

“Dat one, mommy,” Pietro said pointing to the first dress.

“Aw, baby, helping your mommies pick out their wedding - uh - bonding dresses,” Wanda said stepping out from the screen. “What do we think of this?”

“Oh, yes,” I said nodding. “Piet, what do you think?”

Wanda turned and spun, her skirt flaring out.

“You wook pweety, Daj,” Pietro said.

“Like a queen,” I said. “In red too?”

“Yes, I think so.” She said coming over to look at the fabrics.

Natasha came out in her regular clothes and grabbed a pile of fabric. She hid Mjolnir under it and headed to the door. “Okay, I’m taking this back. And I agree with Piet. The one on the left.”

I went behind the screen and the tailors started fussing around me as Natasha headed out. “Just swinging Mjolnir around like it’s nothing,” I said.

“She’ll make a fine queen.” One of the tailors said. “We knew of her fearlessness and strength. Of her wit and intelligence. To also be worthy of Mjolnir? Asgard will be blessed.”

“I could hold Mjolnir.” Wanda huffed.

“Have you attempted as such?” The tailor asked.

“No,” Wanda said.

“Well, if it is true, we will be twice blessed. But until you try you are not worthy.” She explained. “Part of your worth is judged by your willingness to attempt it.”

“Not that you will not be a great queen either way,” a different tailor said, almost scolding the first. “We know of you as well. Very powerful.”

“Weird how none of the boys can lift it,” I said. “Also weird how that’s just a thing they try and do when they get drunk. Though I don’t think I’ve ever seen, Bucky, Sam or Steve every try.”

“Steve tried once,” Natasha said, coming back into the room.

“Did he lift it?” I asked.

“It wobbled a little, but no.” She said. “Are you dressed? Are you pretty?”

I looked down at the tailor who was crouched, pinning up the hem of the skirt. She stuck one more pin into it and nodded and I stepped out.

“Oh my god!” Wanda squealed.

“Yeah?” I asked, spinning for them.

“That’s the one,” Natasha said approvingly.

“Okay, yay!” I said. “Not too hard in the end.”

“Just need color,” Wanda said.

“What do you think, Piet? Do you think any of your daddies will cry when they see us?” Natasha asked.

“Umm…” Pietro hummed. “Daddy Steeb… Daddy Tony… Daddy Sam… Daddy Cwint.”

Natasha chuckled and ruffled his hair.

The tailors began to fuss around Wanda and I collecting up the fabrics we liked and sketching things into little books.

“We should get the boys drunk tonight and then bet them we can’t lift the hammer,” Natasha said looking at the sketches the women had ready for her.

I laughed hard. “The looks on their faces when they see you lift it would be amazing.”

“You could do it too,” Natasha said. “No problem.”

“I’m not a hero,” I said simply.

“That’s not what being worthy is,” Natasha said.

“It can’t just mean nice, or it would say nice,” I said with a shrug.

“You’re fit to be a queen here.” Natasha pressed.

“I got pregnant. Lots of people can do that.” I argued.

“Elise Cooper,” Natasha scolded. “You can calm the Hulk with a simple word. You have physically fought to protect this family. You are brave and strong and smart. Know your worth.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll try.” I said, holding my hands up in defeat.

The tailors finished up, showing us their sketches with the fabric swatches. When we all agreed on what we wanted, Wanda and I changed back into our regular clothes and we all headed back into the living room. It was quite exciting to have the dresses chosen. We were just that little bit closer to getting to spend the rest of what would be very long lives together.

// NEXT

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you-a-southpaw-doll · 4 years

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Deaf ~ A Max (The Resident) One-Shot

Summary: Max gets a new tenant...and maybe a new family? With all the silence, will Leigh be able to draw Max outta the walls and into her life?

Warning(s): Angst. Happy ending. Single mother OFC. Mentions of cheating. Bisexual OFC. Hearing issues. Deaf infant. Implied PTSD. Implied childhood trauma. Panic attack. Self-harm. First aid. Non-canon. OOC Max. Slight voyeuristic tendencies. OFC’s P.O.V. Soft Max. Hurt Max. Scared Max. Touch-starved Max. Max just needs some love.

Author’s Note(s): So, I watched The Resident (2011) a couple nights ago, and got this idea. I don’t do rape, so I changed Max’s character so he never goes that far. I also decided to do this from the OFC’s P.O.V. and show a different side of Max, one that would hopefully, kinda sorta, explain why Max seeks the refuge the walls give him. For people that suffer from PTSD, and other mental illnesses, everyone finds their own way of coping with their struggles. I’m not in any way condoning what Canon Max did. I just wanted to try and a different, less creepy, softer side. Also, in this story, Max is not a rapist, nor is he a murderer. And...I wanted a happy ending for Max, so that’s what I gave him.

Word Count: 7,982 words.

Relationship(s): Max x Leigh Sullivan (OFC) [romantic].

Characters: Max. Leigh Sullivan (OFC). Maxwell Dean Sullivan (OMC). Chris Sullivan (OMC).

Taglist: @negans-network @prettyboynegan @mychemicalimagines @spnnnxangelsx @rockinkel21 @misskittycat02 @band--psycho @ofxallxwexlost @iron-halt @thamberlinawrites @ravenwings73 @lettherebepink @stoneyggirl @sebs-padawan

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Story Time:

Leigh’s P.O.V. ~

It’s been two weeks since I moved to New York City to start my new job at the museum and try to get on with one of the numerous publishing houses for my next books. Two weeks of sleeping in a cheap hotel room. Two nights of frantically searching for a somewhat cheap apartment that would be big ‘nough.

Two weeks of missing having his little body snuggled up next to me. Two weeks worth of triple FaceTime calls to my brother back in San Deigo just to see his cute little face. Two weeks of missing my baby boy. Two weeks of missing my adopted, six-month-old son, Maxwell. Two weeks of being completely alone in a new place for the first time in years.

It’s been two days since I saw that flyer pinned up on the hospital bulletin board after passing out from dehydration. Two days since I went to that old building that’s close to the huge bridge stretching out over the river. Two days since I saw the fancy apartment still being renovated that was clearly well outta my price range.

Two days since I met him and saw that beautiful dimpled smile hiding under the construction mask. Two days since I felt my heart flutter for the time in nearly half a year. Two days since that deep, slower than molasses but sweeter than honey voice told me it was mine for only $3,800 a month, minus utilities.

It’s been two hours since he, my new landlord left my apartment after sitting down to enjoy a dinner of takeout from the nearby Chinese restaurant once we’d finished moving my meager belongings in. Two hours since he and I opened up a little bit to each other, getting to know the other person.

It’s been two hours and I still haven’t stopped smiling.

Leaning back in my chair, I slide my iPhone outta the pocket of my men’s holey, Skinny Flex American Eagle dark blue jeans. Holding my thumb down on the button so it recognizes my thumbprint, I wait for it to unlock before I click on the FaceTime app and call my brother. I take a deep breath, relaxing, as I wait for him to answer.

Only...he doesn’t. Instead of my slightly younger brother answering, I get the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. The moment I see my son’s face fill the screen, I tear up and smile.

“Hey, baby boy! You playing with Uncle Chris’s phone?” I coo in a soft voice.

I don’t get an actual response, but that’s ok. My son Max is deaf. He was born that way and the doctors said it’d be a few more months before we could even try to get him fitted for hearing aids. The said it was a side effect from where his birth mother had been using hard drugs for 99% of the pregnancy, even though I tried to get her help.

Max makes a bunch of soft, cooing noises as he holds the phone close. I realize that he hasn’t noticed that I’m the phone yet. Especially once I see his gums get closer to the camera. I laugh, knowing he’s trying to gnaw on the rounded corner of my brother’s iPhone. Hearing movement on the other end, I watch as the phone jostles, and a loud thunk echos to my end.

A moment later, two small, chubby hands grasp the phone and my son’s face fills the screen once more. I watch as his eyes widen and he lets out a high pitch squeal, giggling, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know that Max has finally noticed that I’m on the phone. Smiling, I wave to him and blow him kisses.

It just makes him squeal more, louder, and happier. I giggle and happily listens to his giggles, squeals, and babbles. After nearly 15 minutes of listening to him, and slouching in my chair, the phone jostles once more and I hear Max let out a whine and hear him sniffling, knowing his ‘bout to start crying.

A second later, my brother’s face fills my phone’s screen and his eyes widen too, making him chuckle.

“Hey, sis. Sorry. Didn’t realize you were on the phone. I guess Max got ahold of mine when I went to fix him a bottle and a small jar of that mushy baby food you picked up for him before you left.” He says.

I smile. “Nah. Max didn’t call me. I called. He answered. Took him a hot minute to realize I was on the phone. Then he started telling me ‘bout the stuff y’all did today. Sounds like a productive day.”

Chris laughs and I watch as he gets settled on the couch in his apartment, holding my son in his lap, keeping him to where he can still see me on the phone.

“Oh yeah.” He chuckles. “Real productive. 3 naps, 6 poopy diapers, and a few bottles.”

I giggle. “Sounds like it.”

He chuckles more and shakes his head. “Anyway. How’s the city? D’you switch motel rooms? That don’t look like the one you’ve been staying in.”

I grin from ear to ear. “That’s actually why I called you. I found a place. By the river and train tracks.”

“Yea? That’s great! You all moved in?”

“For the most part. All that’s missing is little man. Oh. And the actual furniture. I was thinking...think you and Max could be out here tomorrow?”

“Uh...yea. I still got 3 more weeks’ worth of vacation time saved up at work. Give me a sec to pull up flights and shit.”

I smile and nod, waiting as Chris sets his phone down. After listening to some shuffling and the protests of my son, my brother and my son’s faces are visible once more. I help guide my brother through the process of looking for, booking, and getting two cheap plane tickets. I tell him my card info so he can type it in.

“Alright, sis. It looks like we’ll be flying out ‘round noon our time. And, after a 5 and a half flight, we should be to the city by dinnertime. How’s that?” Chris double checks.

“Sounds fuckin’ good to me! I can’t wait. I’ll meet y’all there!” I grin and cover my mouth as I yawn.

Chris chuckles. “Good. Looks like you need to get to bed. It’s what, 11 there?”

I nod. “Yea...I think so. It’s been a long day.”

“I can tell. Well, get some sleep. We’ll be there tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to see y’all. It’s been a long two weeks.”

“I bet. I honestly don’t see how you’ve been a single mom for the last 6 months. I’ve been watching this little monster for 2 weeks and I swear, I’m never having my own kids.”

I laugh. “Shut up! He’s not that bad. He just misses his mommy. And, you never wanted your own kids. You’ve always been too scared. Couldn’t even sit down if there was a kid in the room.”

“Hey! I just didn’t want to risk accidentally sitting on them and squishing them!”

I giggle as my brother grins. “I know, bro. I’m just giving you shit.”

“Yea. Just like your son’s been doing all day.”

I laugh, yawning again. “Shouldn’t have given him the sweet potato mush. I warned you.”

He rolls his eyes, chuckling. “Whatever.”

“I am proud of you, bro. You’ve done so well with him, and I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me. I know it’s been a long couple of months, not just the two weeks I’ve been out here.”

“I just wanna see you happy again, sis, and I’m always here for you. That’s why I’m more than willing to help you.”

“I know. And it means the world. Give him kisses for me and tap his little tummy twice to tell him I love him?”

Chris smiles. “I will. Be careful, yeah? We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll try. Love you.”

“Yea. Ok. I know.”

He grins and waves, getting Max to copy him as he hangs up the call. I smile to myself. My brother’s never been one to say “I love you” to someone. He’s been like that since we were little when he was 5 and I was 6. So, I don’t take it personally when he just responds as he does. I know he still loves me.

He’s been there for me, just like I’ve always been there for him. After my last relationship hit the fan and I caught my fiancé cheating on me with a man and said she no longer felt like being a mom in a same-sex relationship, just a few weeks before Max was born and we were supposed to gain custody of him, Chris offered to let me move in with him once Max was born.

So, that’s what we did. Max and I left Kentucky where I’d been living all through and well after college and moved to San Diego to live with my brother. The 5.5 months we were there, I looked ‘round for a job that I could use my history degree in, while also working on my last novel. After getting an offer from a museum in New York, I broke the news to Chris that Max and I would be moving to the city.

He’d been shocked at first since we were both from a small town in the mountains of Western North Carolina, and I’d sworn I’d never live in a big city. ‘Specially one in the North since it got too cold in the winter and I’d always been made fun of for my strong Southern accent. I’d explained to him that I had to do what was best for Max, that I had a son to think ‘bout now.

He’d understood after that and was willing to watch Max while I traveled back across the country to a new place, to look for a good living arrangement, and get settled in for my new job. He told me that once I got settled, he’d bring Max out and then help me get all moved in and everything. Which is what led us to tonight.

After hanging up with my brother and my son, I plug my phone up, set a few alarms, and curl up in the chair to try and get some sleep, knowing that tomorrow’s gonna be an even bigger day. All while never knowing that I was being watched by landlord peeking through a strategically placed and well-hidden hole in the wall.

When I wake up the morning, well early afternoon really, groaning and blindly reaching out for my phone to shut up the annoying alarms, I stretch and rub my eyes. I’m definitely not a morning person, and usually, get my best work done between the hours of 1 and 7 am. It’s been great since Max still hasn’t picked up on the whole sleeping through the night thing.

I finally push myself up outta the chair, my joints protesting the clearly uncomfortable position I just spent the last six hours in while curled up. Making my way to the kitchen, I get a pot of coffee going before padding back across the apartment to the bedroom and bathroom. I shoot my brother a text, letting him know that I’ll still pick him and Max up from the airport.

After my shower, and downing the entire pot of coffee, I put some music on as I start to plan how I want the apartment set up and start looking up furniture stores on my phone, even ordering a few things online to be delivered in a couple of days.. I get lost in my search, that it takes me several long minutes to notice someone’s knocking on my door.

Clicking my phone off, I tuck it in my pocket and make way to the door, opening it to find my landlord.

He and I talk for a few minutes until I suddenly realize the time.

“Oh shit! I gotta go!”

Max, my landlord, raises a brow. “Hot date tonight?”

I smile. “You could say that. I gotta go pick the love of my life up from the airport.”

I watch as Max’s face falls and he gets a sad look in his eye.

“I thought you were single?” He asks.

Scrambling to put my boots on, I reply to him. “I am. But, I still gotta pick him up.”

“Oh. Well, alright then.”

I look at him as I grab my drawstring bag that I use instead of a purse and put it on my back.

“I’ll be back soon. If you wanna come over, I’d love to introduce you. You’ll see him ‘round a lot.” I say, grabbing my key.

“Um. Maybe. I know I’ll be busy with the renovations in the other apartments. I just thought I’d stop by and check on you, see how you settling in.”

I smile and gently place my hand on his shoulder, trying my best to ignore the rush of excitement that courses through my body at the touch. My landlord is not only smoking hot, but he’s also well built and I can feel his muscles under my hand.

“Thank you, Max. I greatly appreciate it.” I say.

He just nods and stares at my hand for a moment.

“Oh...sorry.” I apologize, dropping my hand, quickly remembering how shy he is. “I’ll...uh...see you later, maybe? I’d really love for you to meet him. He’s a sweetheart.”

He shrugs and rubs the back of his neck. “We’ll see how the renovations go.”

“Sounds good! Don’t work too hard!”

“I am working too hard!”

I giggle, playfully smacking his shoulder.

“Don’t do it.” I giggle.

I quickly leave after locking my door and hurry downstairs, hailing a cab and head to the airport. Thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be too much traffic, which surprises me since the first I noticed when I got to the city was all the traffic. When I get there, I realize I’m still a few minutes early, so I make my way over to the gates to wait.

Nearly half an hour later, I spot my brother, holding my son, carrying only the diaper bag and a small book bag, and rush over. As soon as I reach them, I happily take my little boy in my arms, peppering his chubby little cheeks with kisses, which has him squealing happily and patting my head. I giggle and tilt my head back to look at him, despite the happy tears rolling down my cheeks.

Tapping my finger against his belly twice like I’ve done since the moment I first held him and the moment the docs told me he was deaf, I let my son know I love him. He giggles and curls his fingers ‘round mine, holding it tight. I lift my shoulder, turning my head in an attempt to wipe my tears away. Once I’ve done that, I look up at my 6’2” tall brother, grinning from ear to ear.

He just smiles and pulls me in for a hug. I lean against him since my arms are full from where I’m holding Max. Laying my head against Chris’ chest, I smile. He just hugs me a little tighter, but not too much ‘cause of Max.

“Missed you, sis.” He says.

“I fuckin’ missed you too, bro.” I reply.

He laughs and lets go of me, looking at me. “You look happy.”

“I am now! I’ve got my little boy in my arms, and you’re here. But, I’m sure you’re hungry?”

“Always am!”

I laugh. “C’mon. Let’s go get some food and head to my place. You’re really gonna love it!”

He chuckles and follows as I carry a giggling and snuggly Max outta the airport. I look up Chris.

“You’re taller. Hail a cab.” I say.

He raises a brow. “How?”

I giggle and tell him since it’s the time he’s ever had to do it. Growing up in our small town, we didn’t have taxis, and then when he moved to San Diego during my senior year of college, he already had his own car, so he didn’t have to worry ‘bout taxis out there. It doesn’t take long before one comes to a stop in front of us.

Piling in, I give the driver my new address, and we set off towards home. Well, my home. Chris and I spend the time talking while I just hold Max close, patting his butt. Right as the driver makes it to the apartment building, the air suddenly smells shitty. I know Max has pooped himself, and I soothe him before he can start crying and apologizing to the driver, giving him a decent tip.

Ushering Chris out the cab, so I can get out with Max, I shift my son in my arms.

“Don’t worry, baby boy. Mama’s gonna get you upstairs, and get you all cleaned up!” I coo, softly, my lips near his ear so that he can feel the vibrations of my voice as I talk.

Max settles down a little as he sniffles, clinging to my shirt. I kiss his head and led the way inside and up to my apartment. Shifting him once more, I dig my key out, unlock the door, and step in with Chris right behind me.

“Let me get him changed. Feel free to look around. There’s not much, but we’ll fix that tomorrow.” I say.

Chris nods and drapes the strap of the diaper bag over my shoulder. I carry Max into the bathroom and set him on the tiled floor. I keep him distracted while I change his diaper, and tap his tummy twice after buttoning his onesie and slipping his little shorts back on. He lets out a giggle, holding his hands up.

Giggling myself, I scoop him back up in my arms, tossing the dirty diaper in the small trash can as I walk out.

***

Over the next couple of weeks, Chris helps me move furniture in, get the apartment set up, takes turns with caring for Max, and even teaching me some of the new recipes he’s picked up. He’s come along way, considering that the kid used to burn cereal when he tried to make himself some when we were kids.

We take a few days, once the apartment’s set up, to explore the city. I haven’t done much sight-seeing myself since I arrived. It was mainly ‘cause I was too busy trying to find a place and everything. A few times, I spot my landlord while we’re out and about, and I try to wave him over so he can meet my son and my brother.

Especially since he never showed up the night Chris arrived. I’d been really excited to introduce them. I couldn’t explain why, other than the fact that I wanted Max to meet my son and my brother. Yet, Max never comes over. He always pulls his phone out when our eyes meet and presumably takes a call, walking in the opposite direction.

Two and a half weeks after Chris arrives in New York, Max and I take him to the airport to catch his flight back to San Diego. We stay with him till it’s time for his plane to be boarded. As he hands his ticket over, he assures him he’ll text me when he lands in California and when he gets home. I give him one last hug and lift Max’s hand in a wave.

***

After Chris leaves, Max and I settled into our normal routine. I wake up shortly after he does, get him changed and dressed for the day, and then lay him down on the living room floor for tummy time while I get to work. The position I have at the museum allows me to work from home, occasionally going in once or twice a week, with Max, to take care of some things there.

When I’m not working for the museum, I’m attempting to work on my novel. After I get done with work, I feed Max and me, before we settle on the couch with a Disney movie or one of the three Despicable Me movies playing for naptime. Even if Max can’t hear, he still loves watching the screen, giggling.

He absolutely loves the minions and squeals every time he sees them on the screen. After naptime, he and I lay on the floor for more tummy time while I try to teach him the sign language I’ve been learning. My baby brother, Eli, was also born with hearing issues, so thankfully I knew some when he was growing up, but I’ve also been teaching myself more since I found out Max was deaf.

At the end of the day, and getting some more work done, along with dinner, I give Max his bath. He’s always loved bath time, except for the few times water lands in his ears. Since it’s his favorite, I give him one every day, which doesn’t put too much strain on the water bill ‘cause Max’s baby bath is small and doesn’t take a lot of water.

When bedtime rolls ‘round, I curl up on my new bed with Max cuddled to my chest with my shirt tightly gripped in one hand and his shark blankie in the other. I rub his back and hum softly so he can feel the vibrations from it as he drifts off to sleep. We keep the routine up for the next month a half. During this time, I never talk to my landlord, not even when I go to give him the rent.

I mean, yeah, I’ll see him occasionally ‘round the building, but he doesn’t say a word. He just looks at me for a moment, before dropping his head and walking away. It breaks my heart ‘cause I want to talk to him. We had so much fun talking and goofing off the night he helped me move in. But, since that day I had to rush off to the airport, we haven’t spoken.

I just resigned myself to knowing that he obviously thinks we’re nothing more than landlord and tenant. Which, honestly, make me sad ‘cause I thought we’d have become friends. He was the first person that was actually nice to me after I moved to the city. I also tuck down the feelings of the crush on him I have.

He reminds me a lot of Papa Winchester from my favorite tv show, Supernatural, and I’ve always had the hots for the oldest Winchester. Even my ex-fiancé knew that, and she agreed. See, we’re both bisexual, but I’d always thought she was the one. Until I caught her in bed, our bed, with a man, and she’d told me what she did.

The six months after we broke up were the hardest, ‘cause I’d been ready to marry her. But it didn’t work out. And after I’d moved to New York, met my landlord Max, and realized I’d had a crush on him, I was starting to come to terms with maybe moving on. Getting back out there. I mean, I knew there’d probably be nothing more than a friendship with my landlord, but I was ok with that.

But, I don’t even have that anymore. I sigh to myself, urging my thoughts to go down a different road, as I pull the clothes out the dryer. Just as I finish pulling the last few clothes outta the dryer, I hear whimpering. I listen for a moment to try and figure out where the sound’s coming from so I can go get my son.

After a moment, and the realization that the sound of whimpers is coming from the falls, I try to tone down the feeling of panic that’s quickly spreading through my body. Max started crawling shortly after we moved here, and I know he’s been exploring the apartment. I just hope he hasn’t gotten himself stuck somewhere.

I quickly leave the clothes on the dryer and walk further into the apartment, closer to the sound of the whimpers.

“Max? Honey? Don’t worry, ok? Mama’s coming to get you.”

I call out, without thinking ‘bout the fact that my son’s deaf. I call the words out based on instinct and the need to assure my son that he’s gonna be ok. I follow the noise, getting closer to the kitchen and my eyes widen. Did I forget to put the baby gate up so he couldn’t get in there? When I reach the kitchen and realize that I did indeed forget to put the baby gate, my heart drops to my stomach.

“Fuck!”

I step into the pantry where the sounds of the whimpers are louder and look ‘round. I don’t see my son anywhere. Then I hear the whimpers again and realize that they’re coming from the other side of the wall. I gently push against the right wall, to give myself leverage, as I keep looking, thinking there’s no way that the whimpers are coming from the walls.

My eyes widen as the wall shifts a little with my touch, and they nearly pop outta their sockets when I realize the wall isn’t just a wall. It’s a door that’s already slightly open. My heart starts beating faster as I realize that there’s a slight chance that Max could’ve crawled in here, and through the small opening.

I take in a shaky breath as I push the door open enough for my small frame to fit through. Once I’m through, I notice two things from the get-go. One, the whimpers get louder. Two, the door leads to what looks like an old set of maintenance hallways. I know older buildings used to have them, so it makes sense that this building would have ‘em too.

I just never really put the thought into asking or caring if the building had them. I make my way deeper into the hidden hallways, being careful not to trip or hit my head on anything. Keeping my eyes peeled for my son, I get closer to the sound of the whimpers until I finally reach the source. My eyes widen when I see who’s making the sounds.

“Max?” I ask, softly, getting closer.

My landlord doesn’t even look up as he flinches at the sound of my voice. He just whimpers and bites harder into his wrist.

My heart breaks and I crouch down next to him, gently taking his hand and pulling his wrist from the tight grip his teeth have on it.

“Max? Honey, it’s ok. You’re safe.” I murmur.

He whimpers a little more and hides his face. I immediately realize what’s going on. He’s having a panic attack, and it looks to be a bad one. Rubbing my thumb across his knuckles, I lean closer to him, gently wrapping my arms ‘round the slightly older man, and pull him close to me. I reach a hand up and run my fingers through his hair, softly and silently convincing him to lay his head on my chest.

I soothe him, calm him, and help him relax ‘nough that he slowly eases outta the panic attack. Not stopping my fingers as they continue to run through his hair, I start humming softly. I know panic attacks are one of the worst things to go through. Especially all alone. It takes several minutes, but I eventually feel Max relax, sagging against me as the panic attack leaves him.

Even though he’s outta it, I continue to run my fingers through his dark curls.

“Better?” I ask softly.

He nods, just a quick, subtle little jerk of his head against my chest, but it’s still a nod.

“Will you come back to my apartment with me? I wanna take a look at your arm. You bit down on it pretty hard.” I explain after he looks at me with uncertainty swirling in his muddy water brown eyes.

He takes a deep breath but nods again. I smile.

“That’s a good boy. C’mon. We’ll get you all fixed up.” I say, not sounding patronizing, but rather motherly.

I smile to myself as a light blush covers his cheeks at my words. I gently pat his shoulder before we stand up. As I lead him back through the maintenance hallways to the door that leads into my pantry, I notice other little holes in the wall, discreetly checking them out. When I realize they show off different points of my apartment, I raise a brow but don’t say a word.

After peeking through one of the holes, I see Max, my son, sleeping peacefully in his little playpen and let out a soft breath of relief, remembering that I’d laid him in there when I went to do laundry. I hold my landlord’s hand the entire time we walk through the hallways if nothing more than to keep him calm.

When Max and I get to the door leading to the pantry, he suddenly stops, jerking me to a stop too since I wasn’t expecting it and had been leading him by the hand. I turn ‘round and look at him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, confused.

“The love of your life? Where’s he at?” He asks after, nervously, after a moment.

I smile. “He’s sleeping, in the other room. It’s ok.”

I watch as more hesitation and uncertainty fill Max’s eyes. I give his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Hey. It’s ok. He won’t mind you being in there. He gets a bit protective over me, but I just know he’s gonna love you.” I assure him.

“I...I don’t think so...guys typically don’t like me. Neither do girls. I’m a loner.” He mumbles, looking at his feet while flicking his thumb against his finger on his other hand.

“Max?”

He lifts his head, looking at me. “Hmm?”

“Trust me. He’s gonna love you.”

He shrugs. “Nah. He won’t. ‘Specially not since he has you.”

“Hey. Stop doubting yourself, ok? He’s gonna love you ‘cause I like you.”

“You...you like me?”

I smile and nod. “I do. And you’d know that if you hadn’t been avoiding me since I had to leave so quickly to get to the airport.”

A small smile tugs on his lips. “You’ve been busy.”

“I’m never too busy for you, Max. Now, c’mon. Let’s get your wrist all cleaned up, then you meet the person who stole my heart with just one look. And, he’s gonna steal yours too.”

I giggle and gently squeeze his hand as he looks nervous. I lead him into my apartment from the pantry, and into the living room.

“Have a seat on the couch, ok? I’m just gonna go grab the first aid kit. Don’t try and leave. I’ll follow you and kick your door down if you do.” I playfully threaten. “I don’t mess around with first aid.”

Thankfully, it gets a chuckle outta him and he takes a seat on the couch, holding his hands up in surrender. I grin and head to my bathroom to grab the first aid kit. Walking back through my bathroom, I stop by the playpen, lean down and kiss my son’s head, covering him up more with his shark blankie.

Watching him for a moment, I smile to myself and head back to the living room. Max is still in the same spot he was when I left him a moment ago, but this time, he has his hands on his lap as he picks at the bite mark on his wrist. I gently slap his hand away.

“Stop that, mister. You’ll do more damage than what you’ve already done.” I say, kneeling on the floor in front of him, between his knees.

He raises a brow and mutters a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Good boy. Now hold your hand out so I can look at it.”

He blushes a little but does as I ask. Gently taking his arm in my grasp, I inspect the self-inflicted bite mark on his wrist. After cleaning it with some alcohol wipes and putting Neosporin on it, I gently wrap some gauze ‘round his wrist and tape it so it stays in place. Without thinking ‘bout it, I place a gentle kiss on over the wrapped wound.

It’s outta habit that I do it since I do it whenever my son gets a boo-boo. I hear Max suck in a deep breath and my eyes jerk up to meet his. His bottom lip is captured between his impossibly white teeth and his cheeks are a shade pinker than they were before.

“I...I’m sorry. It’s outta habit that I do that.” I mutter, trying to explain as quickly as I can.

“I...it’s fine. I’ve just never had anyone do that before.” He mumbles.

I raise a brow. “Your mama never kissed your boo-boos?”

His eyes get that sad, lost look in his eyes. He pulls his arm outta my grasp and, not answering, he walks over to the window. I sit back on my ankles, packing the first aid kid up.

“Max...I’m sorry. I didn’t...you don’t have to talk ‘bout it.” I say quietly.

He just sighs and stares out the window, not saying a word.

“My…” He starts, still staring out the window. “My parents died when I was 10. My grandfather, August, he’s the one who raised me.”

I stand and gently pad over to him. “I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t know. I didn’t think before I asked that.”

He glances at me then looks back out the window. Without thinking, and just doing it, I wrap my arms ‘round his waist and lay my head against his chest. He tenses up immediately at my touch.

“What...what are you doing?” He asks.

I tilt my head back to look up at him. “It’s called a hug. It’s supposed to be comforting. I can stop if it makes you too uncomfortable.”

I watch as his facial expression changes with several different emotions before a smile finally settles on his lips.

“Nah. It’s not too uncomfortable. I’m just not used to this.” He says after a few moments.

“This?” I ask.

He nods. “Hugs. I can’t even remember the last time I had one.”

I tighten my arms ‘round him and lay my head back on his chest. I feel his arms slowly make their way ‘round me, loosely holding me close, and I smile.

“Whenever you want one, just come to me and I’ll happily give you one.” I say. “I’m not really much of a hugger, but with you, it just feels right, so you can have a hug whenever.”

“Really?” He asks.

I nod against his chest. “Mmhhmm.”

“Thanks...but...what ‘bout...the love of your life? Is he ok with you giving random men hugs?”

I giggle and look up at him. “You’re not a random man, but yes. He’d be ok with me giving you hugs. He loves them, so he’ll probably try and give you one too.”

“Um…” He hesitates, slowly dropping his arms. “I dunno how I feel ‘bout your man giving me hugs.”

I giggle. “You’ll change your mind when you meet him.”

“I dunno.”

“I do! Stay here. I’ll bring him out to you.”

“Ummm…”

I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek. “Just wait here.”

He swallows deeply, making his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Ok.”

“Good boy.”

I giggle and leave him in the living as I walk into the other room where I know my son is. Reaching into the playpen, I scoop him up, making him giggle. I heard him cooing to himself a few moments ago, so that’s how I knew he was awake. I kiss his cheeks and gently tap his tummy twice. He makes a happy noise and snuggles to me.

I smile and hold him close as I walk back out to the living room. Max is looking out the window again, this time, though, he’s got his arms wrapped ‘round his torso, almost like he’s giving himself a hug. I giggle softly and make my way over to him.

“Max?”

He lifts his head and turns his gaze from the river to me. His eyes widen as he sees my son in my arms. Shock, confusion, and another emotion flash across his face.

“Who? Who’s that?” He asks.

“Max, this is the love of my life. My son.” I say, grinning from ear to ear.

“Your son? Love of your life?”

I giggle and nod. “Mmhhmm. I adopted him when he was born. I can’t have kids myself, and my ex-fiancé and I had talked ‘bout adopting. So, we decided to do it. Found out that this little guy’s mama was putting him up for adoption before he was even born. Then, just before he was born, my ex-fiancé and I split. I still adopted this little monkey and it’s just been he and I against the world since.”

“But...that man...who was here...was that your former fiancé?”

I giggle and shake my head. “No! That was my oldest younger brother, Chris. He’d been watching Max for me while I got settled in the city. After I moved in here, I called him, and he brought my son out here and helped me get furniture and whatnot. I really wanted you to meet him while he was here...but you kept getting phone calls…”

“Your brother?”

I smile and nod. “He’s the oldest of my two brothers, and I’m the oldest of all the kids.”

“Oh…”

I giggle. “Yea.”

“Those phone calls...they weren’t actually phone calls.”

I raise a brow. “You mean to tell me you faked ‘em just so you wouldn’t have to come over?”

He looks down, nodding. “You just seemed so happy with him. I thought y’all were together and that the kid was y’all’s. It…” He shakes his head, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

“Max, I wasn’t lying when I told you I was single the first night I spent here. But I also didn’t tell you that there is a guy I like.”

“Oh...well...I don’t wanna meet him…”

I giggle. “Too late. You already have.”

He frowns. “I have?”

Nodding, I grin and take his hand. “C’mon. I’ll show you who he is.”

“I don’t wanna…”

“Tooooo bad, mister.”

I giggle and lead him to the bathroom, standing him in front of the mirror as I stand next to him, holding my son.

“I thought you were showing me someone I don’t wanna see.” He says, his voice quiet.

“I am. Tell me who you see.” I say, grinning.

“Me. I see me, you, and your son.”

“Exactly. So, you see the guy I have a crush on.”

“Isn’t that a little weird to have a crush on your son?”

I giggle. “Yea. So, it’s a good thing he’s not who I have crush on.”

His brows furrow in confusion and I giggle and gently turn him to face me.

“You’re adorable.” I say.

“How?” He asks, confused even more.

“You’re just not getting it, are you?”

He shakes his head. “No?”

“Max, you’re the guy I like.”

“Me?”

Nodding, I smile. “You.”

I watch as he gets the cutest, dimpled smile on his face, making me giggle more. He blushes and ducks his head down for a moment before looking at me.

“You really like me?” He asks, softly.

“Mmhhmm. I do. I just thought you didn’t like me since you kept ignoring me.” I say.

“I was just trying to distance myself...I thought you were with that guy, who’s actually your brother...I thought he was your ex-fiancé that you’d mentioned that first night...that you’d taken him back.”

I giggle. “Oh, Max. My ex-fiancé was a woman. Who cheated on me with a man. In our own bed.”

His eyes widen. “You were with a girl? But...you like me?”

“I’m what you’d call bisexual. I play for both teams. I like guys and girls.”

“Oh!” He lets out a soft chuckle. “So...what’s this mean? For us?”

I giggle. “It means, that I’d like to date you. If you want that.”

He grins, making his dimples show more. “I’d...I’d like that.”

“Me too! We just have to get someone’s permission first.”

“Permission? From?”

I smile and turn my son ‘round to face him. “Max here has to approve first. I have to think of him now, especially when it comes to relationships.”

Max nods and looks at my son, then back at me. “Wait. His name’s Max?”

I smile. “Maxwell Dean Sullivan. Sometimes, though, I’ll call him Deaf.” (Deef.)

“Why?”

“Oh. He’s deaf.”

“Oh!”

I smile and nod then look down at my son as he wiggles in my arms, reaching out for Max. I giggle and gently hold him out, waiting for him to take him. Max gently, and somewhat nervously, takes my little boy, and cradles him.

“Awww! You’re like a pro!” I grin.

“I’m not gonna lie. I’m scared shitless. He’s so small.” He whispers.

I giggle. “You’re also really big. Max and I are both small compared to you. And you help me close and gently.”

This gets a soft chuckle from my landlord and he visibly relaxes, shifting Max so he’s a little more comfortable. My son giggles and reaches up, patting Max’s cheeks, squealing at the feeling of the short beard tickling his tiny palms. I smile and lean against the mirror, watching them.

“I think Deaf likes you.” I say.

“Yea? You really think so?” Max looks up and he visibly tenses as he soon as he sees me leaning against the mirror. “Don’t lean against that. Please.”

I raise a brow, but step away from the mirror. “Why not?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I won’t, Max. It seems like a sturdy mirror. Plus, the wall behind it keeps it up.”

He lowers his gaze and hands my son back to me, much to my son’s protests and my own confusion.

“I...I should go...just please don’t lean against the mirror.” Max says quietly and turns to leave.

I reach a hand out and curl my fingers ‘round his upper arm.

“Hey. Stop. You don’t have to go.” I say.

He nods. “I do. There’s stuff you don’t know ‘bout me...I’m not a good man…”

I raise a brow. “Max. Aside from ignoring me for the last several weeks, we’ve still been good to me. You are a good man. I know you are.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, but can’t help.”

A thought hits me and I look up at him. “You mean the holes in the walls? That allows someone to peep through into my apartment?”

His face pales and I get my answer. I reach up and cup his cheek.

“Max. It’s ok. I saw him when I was leading you back to my place to fix your wrist. The walls...they’re your safe place, aren’t they?” I ask, softly.

“It’s quiet in there. I like the silence.” He mumbles, closing his eyes. “I can watch...and it calms me.”

“Have you watched me?”

He swallows deeply. “I tried not to...but I…”

“Shhh. It’s ok, Max. I’m not mad.”

“You’re not?”

“No. I’m not. Some might think it’s creepy, but in a way, it’s like you’re watching over, protecting me. Me and Deaf.”

“I...I didn’t think of that.”

I smile and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. “It helps you stay calm, watching me?”

He nods. “I can’t hear the voices…”

“What voices?”

“The ones telling me…” He shudders.

“Breathe, Max. It’s ok. What do they tell you?”

“That I’m a coward. A pervert. A creep.”

His reply is so quiet I almost don’t hear it. But I do. I place my palm back against his cheek.

“Is that why you bit your wrist earlier?” I ask softly.

He nods. “To make them shut up.”

“Well, you don’t have to do it alone anymore, ok? I’ll tell those voices to shut up too.”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, unsure.

“I will.” I assure him.

“But...why?” His child-like voice breaks my heart.

“Because, they’re lying to you, Max. The things they tell you, they’re not true. You’re not a creep. Not a pervert. And you are definitely not a coward.”

“But...I am.”

“No, Max. You’re not. You’re not any of those. You’re just a man who needs someone to show him what it’s like to be loved. You didn’t have a good childhood. Losing your parents, and having your grandfather raise you. But you survived. You grew up. You coped with everything thrown your way in the ways that you knew how. You’re a survivor, Max. And, that alone makes you the furthest thing from being a creep and a coward. As for being a pervert, I don’t think you’re that either.”

He doesn’t say a word, but he leans into my touch more.

“How do you know?” He asks after a few minutes.

“I know, because I can tell you’re not. Believe me, I grew up ‘round ‘nough perverts to know that’s not you. You’re nothing like them. That’s how I know.” I whisper.

“You still like me?” He lifts his eyes to meet mine.

“I do, Max. And, I’m gonna show you what it’s like to be loved. We’ll get there. And Deaf here, this little boy in my arms, he’ll show you too. I told you he’d love you when he met you.”

“He does?”

I smile and nod. “He doesn’t reach out to just anyone. It took him months just to go to my brother. But it took him maybe 5 minutes to go to you. And, kids are usually really good judges of character. Just like dogs. So, I can assure you he doesn’t think you’re anything like what the voices tell you.”

He nods slowly and looks down at the little boy in my arms.

“He is cute.” He mumbles.

I giggle. “Damn right he is! He’s my son.”

Max chuckles softly. “That’s true. But...you’re not cute.”

I raise a brow and look at him. “That’s not exactly the best thing to say to your new girlfriend.”

He grins. “Girlfriend? I like the sound of that...but you’re not cute. You’re beautiful.”

I blush. “So are you. Ain’t you can’t argue with me. The girlfriend’s always right.”

He laughs softly. “Is that so?”

“Mmhhmm! Now. I believe there’s a little boy who wants to be held by you.”

He smiles and kisses my palm before standing up straight and gently taking Max from my arms, holding him close.

“As for the mirror, Max. We’ll just board up the other side.” I say, getting the picture, from his reaction, that it’s one of those mirrors like police station interrogation rooms have. “And, you won’t have to go back into the tunnels anymore. You have me and Max now. We’ll be here for you.”

He swallows deeply and nods. “Promise?”

“I promise promise, Max. But, know that if you ever cheat on me, I’ll cut your dick and balls off.”

His eyes widen as he nods. “I...I wouldn’t do that to you.”

I smile. “Good. And I wouldn’t do it to you either.”

He lets out a breath of relief. “So...does this mean...that I have a family?”

I smile. “Yes, Max. It does. We’re your family now, and you’re our family.”

#Deaf #Max (The Resident 2011) One-Shot #Max Fluff #Max Angst #Max gets a happy ending #The Resident (2011) Fluff #The Resident (2011) Angst

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avidfanficwriter · 5 years

Text

The Other Sister (Chapter 1)

Characters: Steve Rogers(AU!) x OFC.

Summary: After five years of marriage, Steve Rogers finds himself questioning everything that his wife, Annabel has ever told him thanks to the impromptu visit by her troubled younger sister: Addison; whose existence he’s just learned about fives years prior. His only question now is: who verison is the truth? His loving wife? Or the troubled sister?

Ratings: M.

Warnings: Mentions/indications of depression, mentions of sexual abuse, indication of mental abuse, drug abuse, alcohol abuse. (Warnings will be updated as chapters come)

Authors Note: It’s not gonna be pretty. I’m sorry for the you know, skipping out on everyone and neglecting my blog. I’m better than that, you know that. I know that but I’m trying. Believe in me. :)

Chapter 1. Chapter 2.

There's a scene in dramatic movies that always seem to be shot in the same way, a simple setting, two people, one is nervous while the other is calm. The person who is lucky enough to be calm eventually notices the odd behaviors from the other and questions it. They're given a jaw-droppingly shocking statement. The kind that makes them choke on their drink or forget how to breathe. At first, they don't know how to react. It's a pot full of emotions, anger, sadness, annoyance or worst-case scenario disgust. They question how they are going to get over it or understand it.

That moment of being unclear how to continue is how Steve felt right now, only instead of just a flurry of emotions, there's a nauseous feeling pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"-ay for a while." He doesn't have the faintest idea what his wife is saying now, after the first few words she spoke, he's blacked out the rest. It takes a few moments to gather himself, followed by another to convince himself he won't vomit. "One more time..." he asks.

His wife, Annabel Shaw-Rogers cocks her head at her husband. "I said Addison needs a place to stay for a while." He nods. "I told her no but she was insistent on it, something about doctors orders. She's probably just got out of rehab again. Once a junkie always a junkie." She trails off in annoyance.

All Steve can do is nod in response, he's chewing on his bottom lip trying to not scream. "The sister who was in and out of jail the last few years?"

"Uh-huh."

Another nod. "The sister who pops drugs like they're candy?"

"Uh-huh."

He clears his throat and rests his hands on the counter, staring at the wall ahead of him. "The one you don't hear from unless she needs something?"

Annabel chuckles and walks towards her husband of five years, she reaches out to him, wrapping her tanned arms around his waist. "Baby, I only have one sister. All of the horror stories you are about to ask are indeed about her." She takes a moment to rub a calming hand down his chest. "She's going to have to stay here if not, she'll never let that be the end of it." The sentence is ended with a loving kiss on his cheek and she leans into his body, trying to use her affection as an apology for the cards they have been dealt. For Steve, it'll take far more than a simple kiss and hug to rid the horrid taste in his mouth. She'll invade their privacy, ruin their home, invade the wholesome environment they have. Her drug-diseased handcuff ridden hands would be all over his home, infecting it. The air would be toxic, everything would have to be replaced, their home would need to be replaced.

A new home, new furniture, new clothes. He'd be out of money by this time next year.

If that wasn't bad enough, Addison Shaw was trouble with a capital T. The woman had trouble etched in her bones, her blood was filled with negativity. The only way to explain young Addison was everything bad that one person can do, Addison had done and then some. The two sisters were miles apart, Annabel was beautiful, sweet and brilliant while Addison was problematic, untrustworthy and downright awful.

They were cut from two different strands, good and bad. To Steve, part of it would have made sense if one of them was bad if their daddy had a criminal history or even mommy but both parents were normal, average. Met in college, fell madly in love. Their mother was a stay at home mom, dad was a banker. They stayed out of trouble, minded their business, went to church on Sundays and said their prayers before bed. They were loving parents to beautiful girls, Annabel, their oldest, his wife. A dirty blonde haired girl who had dreams of being a singer. Their youngest, Addison was a brunette with-how he remembers hearing their mother describe as-big beautiful hazel eyes with the tiniest hints of green. There were no hopes or dreams used to describe her, no happy or cute memories that followed after any mention of her. It was always just Addison and then silence.

The idea of Addison... staying there in his home, ruining the atmosphere. Forcing he and Annabel to live on edge to accommodate her. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right. However, this was his wife, the love of his life. He couldn't say no if she had already said yes. She had to be dealing with far more issues than his own, this couldn't have been easy on her.

"How long?" He finally asks with a deep sigh.

It takes her a while to answer which scares him, "A few weeks." That's an arrow straight in his heart. He's already envisioning his gravestone, 'Steven Grant Rogers. Died from: sudden cardiac arrest brought on by wife's junkie sister.'

"Fine..." He says with another sigh. "But she doesn't stay in the house."

"Where are we going to put her, baby? The doghouse?"

Steve smiles. "If we had a doghouse, that wouldn't be nice enough for her."

Annabel agrees, pulling her arms from Steve. "Where then?"

"The guest house."

"It's not finished with the remodel."

"The kitchen is the only part left, the room, living room, and bathroom are done. She can survive with half a kitchen." He remarks.

"Just means she'll have to be here when she wants to eat."

Steve wanted to strangle her, probably the only time on this earth that he had the urge to do so. A day he could handle, maybe two but an unspecified amount of weeks was hell on earth. Hell, literary, as if they had taken a one-way ticket to the bottom of Satan's ass. "I'll get the contractor to finish the kitchen within the week, pay him double if I have too."

The contractor comes as planned and is less than happy about the sudden change, "In a week? My guys are gonna be workin' double time."

"I know, I get it. I'll pay you double-triple what you were getting. I just need this done by Monday." With a heavy sigh, the contractor agreed, apologizing ahead of time for the noise they would soon be faced with.

They had noise and he was having nightmares, a horrible combination. Steve was on the brink of losing his sanity and the worst had yet to come. The impending doom of Addison's arrival was rapidly approaching. Each time he closed his eyes, it was followed by a possible outcome of Addison living with them. In one, she burnt down the house another threw a rager when they went out to dinner and the worst was her overdosing in their kitchen. Her arrival was eating him up.

"Addison is aware we are gonna have rules?" Steve asks over dinner one night, over the sound power tools echoing through the home.

"I'm sure." Annabel nods, chewing her food and staring at her cell phone.

"Are we going to have to hide all the medicine?"

Annabel drags her eyes from her facebook feed to stare at Steve blankly. "I hadn't thought about that." She clears her throat. "Probably. She'll probably wind up overdosing on cold medicine." The tone of her voice is full of malice and humor.

It was crude place in time now that Steve found himself chuckling at the statement, instead of being overtaken with disgust. He always saw the best in people, believed that everyone deserves a second (Or more) chance. He extended olive branches, forgave the unforgivable, he was the embodiment of a good guy but times had changed. "You're okay with this, right?" Annabel asks in a small voice.

"Of course." He lies.

"Steve, are you really?"

He exhales deeply, "Baby, she's your sister."

"Only by blood." She remarks. "Trust me, If you could change your genetics, I would be first in line." There's not a hint of humor in her voice, she truly would. As depressing as it sounded, Annabel was ashamed to admit she had a sister almost as much as her parents were to say they had two daughters. He remembers taking Annabel on their first date, they talked about their families, there was never a hint that she had a sister. Annabel had spun a web that led him to believe she was an only child.

In fact, Annabel never spoke about her, nor did her parents; it was like she never existed. It wasn't until their wedding that Addison dropped the bombshell of having a sister that left Steve speechless. It was nearly the end of their romance. "You have a sister and you just what? Forget to tell me about her?" He shouted in anger, slamming the front door behind him as he stomped into their new house. "We've been together for three years! Are those even your actual parents or are you waiting to introduce me to the real ones in another three years?"

Annabel turned to face him, sighing and running a hand through her hair. "Steve, calm down." She pleads.

"Don't tell me to calm down, you've been lying to me for three years."

"I wasn't lying, I just didn't tell you about her."

He groans, "That's the same damn thing." He heads to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge and quickly gulping it down. The only way he can think to calm his nerves is drinking alcohol also another way to keep his mouth busy instead of shouting.

"Listen, Steve..." He ignores the next thing out of her mouth, pleas spill from her red-tinted lips about their upcoming wedding, 'it's only a month away', 'we can't call it off now! What am I going to tell my parents?'. Excuse after excuse yet she avoids the topic at hand. Her sister, a sister that she never once spoke about. That her parents never spoke about. Their family album had no pictures of another child, the pictures littered through their home was void of this mystery sister.

"Why?" He asks, refusing to divulge into talk about their wedding, one mention of it and that would be all she'd focus on. He feels betrayed and used. He starts to question everything she's ever told him, even questions the validity of their relationship. "H-how.... how does someone lie about having a sibling?"

"It's complicated."

Steve's eyes go wide and he leans in, chuckling. "Complicated?" he questions, setting his beer down on the counter in front of him. "Hey, Steve, I have a sister. Yeah, her name is Mary, she's nineteen; lives in Alabama, don't see her much. How is that complicated?"

Annabel sets her purse down on the counter in front of Steve, sighing heavily. "Okay... I was going to tell you, I planned on telling you but it just... isn't easy." She closes her eyes and swallows deeply, he notices her hands, she's squeezing her fingers. "We don't talk about her."

"We?"

"My parents, me; my family." Annabel lets out a nervous chuckle, realizing for the first time in years, she's confessing what is suppose to be a lifelong secret. "Her name is Addison and she's twenty-seven years old and... I don't know where she's living, I ran into her in Miami on the girls trip a few months back but I don't know where she's at right now, I haven't since she was sixteen."

It's even worse than Steve expected, however, he's not entirely sure what he expected. "What do you mean since she was sixteen? If she's twenty-seven now that means you're only two years apart." Annabel nods, ashamed. "What does that even mean?"

Annabel can hardly stand the look of confusion on her husband's face. There's no stopping now, she had to continue for both of their sakes. "You need to understand she put my parents through hell. She was horrible, a bad kid, beyond bad. She did drugs, threw parties, refused to go to school; refused to come home, drank. Anything she could do, she did. My parents tried, I tried. They sent to her to my uncles to try and help her but she nearly burned his house down." It's as if a weight has lifted off her chest, the lie that she had forced herself to believe is finally free. "She was unfixable. Getting worse as the days went by."

"And you just gave up on her?" Steve questions in an angered tone. "She was a kid!"

"No, we didn't!" She raises her voice, getting insulted by the accusation. "My parents tried like hell but it never worked. She never let it and they couldn't do it anymore, my dad was on the verge of losing his job, mom was having a mental breakdown. One day, my dad had enough he threatened her if she continued, he'd make her leave. She didn't change. The next day, she came home high and he packed her a bag and kicked her out. Called friends and family told them to not let her in."

"How old was she?"

"Sixteen."

"Six-Sixteen? She was sixteen years old?" He questions in shock. "Your father kicked your sixteen-year-old sister out of the house with nowhere to go?" The thought is unimaginable to him, an innocent child out alone in the world, battling the street of California with no one to help her. It made him sick, he could barely look at her.

"It sounds bad, I know."

He nods, chuckling being the only thing he can do that doesn't wind up with them ending their engagement. "I don't think you do."

"I wanted her to come back, I looked for her but I couldn't find her."

It's a lie or a comedy skit, it has to be. It doesn't seem plausible. He's met her parents, her fathers is the sweetest guy in the world, her mother loves with all of her heart. The first time he met her, she demanded a hug and that he comes over every holiday, birthday and Sunday for dinner. The idea that they, everyone's dream parents had kicked a child out of their home. "So, you guys just what? Woke up a few days later and said we only have one daughter. Gee, what a nice day?"

Annabel cocks her head in annoyance, "No, One month of her being gone, turned into three and then it was a year and before we knew it life was so much easier without her around. My parents weren't fighting, I wasn't missing school because of something she did. We didn't have any police around the house, it was just simple. Normal. A happy family." She finally sits down on the bar stool, feeling exhausted. "Eventually we realized anytime we talked about her, my mother got sad and my father was angered. People didn't understand it either when we said what happened and we found it easier to not talk about her. We just pretended she didn't exist."

Steve doesn't understand, he can't even begin to understand. If he had a child, he couldn't imagine turning on them. Casting them out with all dangers in the world that they could succumb to. No matter how horrible they were, he'd never give up on them. He couldn't. It wasn't in his blood. "You never heard from her until a few months ago?"

Annabel nods her head, brushing her hair behind her ear before she begins. Another jog down memory lane that breaks his heart even more.

It was a few years later before her name was spoken again in the Shaw household, they had a phone call in the middle of the night from a detective in Texas, Addy; It softens his heart just for a second when Annabel uses her nickname, it shows she still cares somewhere in there. Addison was found in a cheap, rat and drug infested motel unconscious with signs of sexual assault. It had taken her three days to finally talk to police and another three for her to confess her first name. it was luck or a miracle that they discovered her purse trashed in an alley.

"Do you know how late is it?" Her father, Gregory had shouted into the phone. His voice rough and full of sleep.

"Sir, I apologize for the disruption. This is Detective Amanda White from the Austin Police department, sir, I'm afraid I have some bad news. We've found your daughter, Addison Shaw."

The detective went on to confess the details of the case, Addison refused to talk, claimed it was a misunderstanding. An accident, she fell while getting dressed but all evidence said otherwise. They had found the doer but she refused to press charges and point the finger at him. He shrugged and simply told her, "I only have one daughter." In his mind, Addison had made her bed and whatever path she was on, was her own doing. After that, anything that reminded them of her was gone, pictures, drawings, baby boxes. She was merely a blip in their past. As far as anyone in their lives would know, the Shaw's had one daughter, Annabel.

"My dad didn't care," Annabel says with a look of pain. "my mom nearly died but she would have followed my father to the ends of the earth without second-guessing when he said never mention her, we didn't."

Annabel goes on about running into her baby sister in Miami on her girl trip. Her last trip as an unmarried woman, the last hurrah. It was the hotel she was staying in that she found Addison. Not recognizing her at first, it had been so long since she'd seen her that time had corroded her image.

"Addison?" She questions on a whim to the young girl with brown hair tied in a ponytail and dressed in a hotel uniform. "Addy?" It was her, beyond all belief. Their eyes met and Addison was a deer in headlights. It was an awkward reintroduction, two sisters split by time, coming face to face.

"I'm getting married!" Annabel shouted midway through the conversation, her happiness leaking through. "I want you to be there." The words came out before she had a second to rethink her sentence.

Addison said nothing in response. It was a brief silence and a deep sigh before she answered, in a distant voice with cold eyes. "I hope you have a good wedding."

"No, Addy, I want you there. It's my wedding day and I want my family there, all of my family." Her sister is still silent, staring at her like she's never met her. Which is nearly the truth, they didn't know one another. Other than their names, they were strangers. It had taken some convincing before Addison had responded with, "If time works out, maybe I'll think about coming." Annabel left her phone number with her, asking her one last time before she left "Just come, okay? It'll be fun." She didn't think it would work but this morning when she woke up, there a text message from an unknown phone number that simply read. "When is the wedding again? And where? -Addison." She texted back immediately, eyes still blurred from sleeping and another text arrived a few hours later. "I can come if you still want me too," Annabel responded by sending her the ticket details and saying she couldn't wait to see her again.

"So, she's coming to our wedding?" Steve finally questions, rubbing his eyes and wishing he'd bought more beer.

"Yes."

"And what do your parents think?" He asks.

"I haven't told them and I'm not going to."

"Anna..."

"Steve, it's my day, if I want to invite my sister that is my choice."

"Fine." He agrees, walking around to the counter to engulf her in his arms. The good guy inside of him begins to think it could be the best thing to happen. The family could mend, forget about the past and begin again, Something good could come from their wedding. "This could be a fresh start. A way to move on from the past. A restart." He’s fooling himself with the agreement but his biggest flaw was always wanting to see the best in people, if she wanted her to be there, he would do that for her. For their family.

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