Lan

He didn’t bounce his leg. Yet he would always steady yours. He didn’t bite his nails. But would grimace when you did it and pull your hand away from your mouth telling you how even the cleanest people have germs under their nails. The problem, you had learned, was that when the storm finally broke through it could easily shatter his mind. 

You’d been watching for it since you’d walked into the yard that night and seen Smurf laid on the workbench. It took you a second to realise she was gone but one look at Andrew confirmed it. He looked away from you instantly and you knew it was so that he didn’t fall apart now that you were there.

The one person he needed in that moment.

The boys were stood around the table and without even thinking about it you closed the space between you both, pressing your chest against his arm so that you were angled straight to him. Your hand on his back. He leaned into you slightly. 

You had zoned in on the blood on his white shirt and ear instantly but otherwise he looked okay. You glanced around at the boys. They all just looked in shock. Andrew looked broken. 

J didn’t look affected. Something you took note of. 

“We need to call the doctor you use. What’s his name?”

“Why?” Craig asks.

“We can’t take her to the mortuary like this, they’ll call the cops. She needs to have died in her bed from the cancer.” J was right but you wished for Andrews sake this could have been easier. You didn’t know what happened yet but you knew the selfish bitch would have made it as hard on them all as possible. Especially Andrew. 

You keep your hand where it is on his back, knowing there is absolutely nothing you can do to help but be there. And even that wouldn’t stop the repercussions of Smurfs actions, you worried. 

“And we need a doctor to sign the death certificate that says so.” J continued. 

“I’ll call him.” Deran says calmly before leaving. You grab his hand giving it a squeeze as he walks past you. He just squeezes back. 

“Where’s your truck?” J asks Andrew and when you look up at him you can feel your chest shatter. He looks lost, he looks like a little boy, the one you know is always somewhere inside the scary shell he hides behind.

He’s not really there. You can tell by the dazed look in his eyes.

“Pope.” J says abruptly to get his attention, making the man jolt slightly against you.

“What?” He says to J. 

“Where’s your truck did you leave it out there?” 

“I was in a gun fight.” Andrew snaps back. “I barely got out of there.” He lowers his voice, as though not wanting you to hear even though you were right beside him. Your stomach drops but you know it needs to be filed away for another time. Like so many things these days just to get through. You feel him dipping and guide him to walk backwards and sit on the stool just behind him. 

When he’s sat he looks up at you so helpless that you can’t hold back any longer and pull him into you. He wraps his arms around your waist like a vice, burying his face into the space just below your chest. You hold him close, almost hiding him from the others with one hand and the other arm wrapped around his shoulders.

When you look over at Craig he sniffs and you can tell he’s holding back the tears. You offer him a look that you hope shows how sorry you are. Despite who she was, she was their Mom. And you just knew something fucked up will have happened today. You’ve known it. Had a bad feeling hanging over you from the second he told you Smurf had a job and that she would be joining. 

You glanced at J who just looked at you and Andrew with an unreadable expression. The pair eventually left. To go home or to sort out the next moves with Smurf. 

When they’d gone you shush Andrew the way you often had over the years when things got too much for him. “Andrew…” You whisper and he pulls back to look up at you, tears streaming down his cheeks. You hold his face, clearing them with your thumbs, your own falling now. Not because of that woman. 

Never. But because you knew how hard this was going to be on Andrew out of them all. 

“Im so sorry.” You tell him tearily as you bend down to leave a lingering kiss on his forehead. 

“She’s just… gone.” He says it like he can’t believe it, yet you knew that he more than most knew what that sudden sickening finality felt like when it came to death. You just nod. 

“Yeah… yeah she is.” You confirm. “And you’re going to be okay.” You look him in the eye because you need him to know it. To believe it. “I promise.” You whisper it with so much certainty he almost believes you. 

The thing was you knew him so well. 

You knew what Smurf was to him. How deep that bond went. Traumatic or not and this would undoubtedly break him. 

You knelt in front of him without a word. His shoulders sagged the moment you did.

Slowly, he folded into you until you, foreheads touched. His face turned, brushing against yours in a quiet, absent movement, like instinct had taken over before he'd even realised he'd done it.

You closed your eyes. One hand came up to cradle his jaw, your thumb stroking across his cheek. He leaned into it immediately.

Eventually you feel like you should give him time alone with her. You tell him you’re right inside if he needs you and he nods looking at you gratefully. Grateful that you always know when to give him the space he needs. With one last kiss on his forehead you leave him.

Andrew told you everything later that night as you lay facing each other in his bed, only an inch or so between you. About meeting his Uncle and Cousins. Learning about his Father. How there’d been a shoot out that Smurf had no intention of getting out of. How he’ had to drag her out of there and left his truck behind. That you were going to have to go to your parents house until they figured out what they were going to do about the fact his new found ‘family’ were out for blood. 

But it was Deran who told you, as you gave Andrew time to say goodbye to Smurf, the part about her shooting Andrew. How badly it could have all gone wrong. How she had wanted to drag him down with her. Couldn’t stand the thought of him living without her iron grip. 

“It was so bad.” Deran had whispered into your hair shakily as you held each other, terrified at the fact there could have been two bodies in the garage. 

After Deran had left and Andrew walked into the house, dazed and covered in blood you had told him to go get a shower. You knew he needed some direction right now or he would just sit. You would look after him. You always would but there was something you wanted to do first. 

J was sat by the pool when you walked out. 

“Is there anything I can do?” You ask and he looks over his shoulder at you. He reminds you so much of Andrew in that moment, calm faced but the shiver down your spine told you there was more underneath. And you weren’t sure you wanted to experience it. 

“You’re kidding, right?” He scoffed before looking back towards the pool and takin a swig of his beer. “Pope would murder me if I got you involved in this.” 

He was right, you knew that but recently you were getting the feeling that no matter how hard he tried you were getting more and more tangled into the Cody family web. 

“Just trying to help.” You say aggravated. You’d just heard how close Andrew came to dying tonight. 

“I know. Thanks.” You heard J say to your retreating back but you didn’t acknowledge it. 

When you walk into the garage you just stare at her for a few moments. Waiting to feel something. Not sure what you should be feeling. The only thing you can think is that the damage she caused throughout her life was very much still here, even is she was not. 

When you were stood right beside her you kept expecting her to jump up. Another fucked up Smurf event. But she didn’t.

You’d leaned down, close enough to her ear as though she would hear you better before speaking. 

“May you always get what you deserve.” 

Then with one last look you turn and walk away leaving her alone and cold. Exactly as she deserved. 

“I’m not going.” You told him the next morning. He hadn’t slept, you could tell. Every time you’d woken in the night he’d still been awake, he would kiss your face gently and shush you telling you to go back to sleep. Every single time you tried to stay awake but he would run his hands through your hair. Whispering ‘please sleep for me’ like it was all he wanted as he kissed your eyelids. 

He’d held you all night replaying everything that had happened and what he needed to do next to keep you and his brothers safe. 

“You’re going.” He replies in a voice that left no room for argument but you found some anyway. 

“I am not leaving you right now.” You’re sat on his bed, legs and arms crossed and he sighs as though he’s looking at a petulant child. 

He doesn’t say anything just puts your shoes on the floor in front of you, points at them and says “put them on.” 

“Do I get breakfast first?” You want to create more time to give him all the reasons you absolutely have to stay with him.

“Of course.” He says in a soft voice that breaks your heart. You don’t want to be giving him a hard time right now but leaving him would be the worst thing for him even if it was the best thing for you safety. You didn’t care. 

You move to the edge of the bed and start to put on your shoes but he kneels down, gently moving your hands away before resuming the task. He gets worse when he’s stressed so you don’t argue it, knowing that it helps him. That something in his brain will have told him he had to put your shoes on for you, that he wanted to look after you. 

Once he’s tied them perfectly you grab his face in your hands and he looks up at you with those sad eyes.  

“Will this be easier on you if I’m at my parents, handsome?” You ask him softly and he melts into you as he nods, head dipping. His arms flexing as he leans against the edge of the bed before buying his head in your lap and wrapping his arms around your hips. 

Biting your lip and squeezing your eyes closed to stop yourself from crying, you take a deep breath as your fingers card through his hair and rub his large shoulder. 

“Okay.” You say when you think your voice is finally steady enough. He doesn’t say anything just squeezes you one more time before getting up, kissing you gently and walking out the bedroom door like he’s ready to kill anyone in his path. Like he wasn’t just curled in your lap like a puppy. 

You finish your breakfast and walk to the door leading out to where the brothers were sat just in time to hear Andrew saying something to J. 

“Lose the glasses you’re not John Gotti.” 

To which you reply, “who’s John Gotti?” As you follow him into the kitchen. 

He lets out a tired huff that’s almost a laugh as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "Christ, sweetheart.”

The goodbye is painful for you both. He promises to get everything fixed as quickly as possible. You also make him promise to call if he needs you. You also send Deran a text to make sure he calls you if Andrew needs you. 

He doesn’t reply but you don’t think too much into it. 

It’s only two days later when he calls to tell you to come home. The butterflies in your stomach don’t leave you the whole drive but you feel like your stomach falls out as you walk up to the door. 

Andrew had let you in the gate and meets you at your car, opening your door for you. You step out and straight into his arms where he keeps you pulled into him with no intention of letting you go. You manage to pull back just enough to look at him. 

“What the fuck happened?” 

“We took care of it.” 

Pulling him closer the pit in your stomach doesn’t go anywhere like his presence usually makes it. You had a terrible feeling and you were right to. 

The next few days were hell. You could barely get in touch with him and when you did he was vague. When you did see him he wasn’t there. Not really. 

It was bad, just like you knew it would be but when he started avoiding you that’s when you got really worried. You’d gone to Deran’s bar to talk about it but he just put it down to him ‘being Pope’ and insisted this was normal. 

He came to you one night after they’d done a job, walking in like he just didn’t know what to do or where to go. 

“I can’t be there.” You know what he means. That house. You simply grab his hand and take him to bed. No questions, no lectures. That was the last thing he needed. 

He curls up on your bed in the dark and you climb in behind him, kiss his cheek and start talking. About anything and everything. Insignificant things that had happened in the last few days as you stroke through his curls and he falls asleep instantly. You know he probably hadn’t really slept in days. 

He’d done it for you first. Whenever anything bad happened, whenever you couldnt sleep for the pain sneaking around your chest. It became something neither of you ever had to ask for, just did. 

When you wake up he’s not there. It’s 4am. You walk into your hallway and see him stood there facing your front door, like a guard. 

“Andrew?” You whisper softly knowing there was a chance he was sleepwalking again. 

He moves so slowly, just a shadow as he turns his head. “Julia?” He asks and you freeze. No idea what to do. You’d seen him sleepwalk before, you’d woken him up before but this felt different. Like his shattered mind had finally stopped him being able to tell what was real and what wasn’t.

“Andrew…” You say his name hoping to wake him, or bring him back, you weren’t sure. 

“Julia…” This time it isn’t a question and a second later he gasps as if waking you from a bad dream. He freezes and won’t turn around. You say his name but he just apologies as he rushes out. Still making sure to lock it on the way out. 

“Fuck…” You curse before getting rest and grabbing your keys. The sun is is just starting to rise when you get to The Cosy house after driving around for in obvious places looking for him with no luck. 

You look in every room but he isn’t there. J is fast asleep with some girl and when you kick the mattress, he jumps, sitting right up. He’s clearly got the fear all the Cody family have when he grabs a gun from the side of his mattress. Once he see’s it’s you he lowers it with an annoyed sigh. The girl he’s with looks terrified and usually you’d feel bad but you’re in no mood. 

“Have you seen Andrew?” 

“What? No…” 

“Useless.” You growl before walking back out slamming his door shut behind you. 

Deran wasn’t answering. 

Craig was as dismissive as ever making some joke about how you are allowed to be apart for more than 8 hours. 

You were sat in your car in their driveway deciding where to look for him next when you got a call from an unknown number.

It was the hospital. They don’t even finish explaining anything past having Andrew there and you were already back on the road getting there in record time, driving in a way Andrew would definitely be mad at you for if he witnessed it. 

He’s not hurt. 

He’s not physically hurt. 

You can fix this. 

He’s not hurt. 

Was the mantra going round and round in your mind as you walked into the hospital. 

“Andrew Cody?” You ask at the desk, flustered. “You called me. I’m his next of kin.” 

“Right through there.” She directs you. “Third bed.” 

You rush down and when you finally see him all you want to do is dive on him but you hold back. 

“Andrew…” You say thinking back to the last time you’d seen him hours earlier, calling for Julia. When he looks up at you, finally notices you, he says your name and the sigh of release makes you physically sag. Then you do go to him, pull him into a hug which he leans heavily into. “I was so worried.” 

“I… I’m sorry.” He says and the vulnerability in his voice destroys you. 

You pull back to look at him.

“Hey… no.” You shake your head as you look him in the eyes. “We’re not doing that okay? Don’t apologise for something you can’t help.” All the things you’d tried to drill into him over the years, all the behaviours you tried to gently unlearn from him came back at their worst when he was like this. 

His mouth turns downward and he looked utterly miserable. 

“Can I take you home?” You ask gently. He nods and stands, grabbing your hand letting you lead him out. 

In the car he opens up to you, apparently the shrink he had spoken to in the hospital had said he needed to. He complained that she was pushing his buttons. 

“She was trying to help, handsome.” You tell him. “I think it’s good.” 

“What happened… I remember falling asleep with you.” You look over at him, he’s studying you carefully. 

“You…  you were stood in the hallway. You kept saying Julia.” You look over at him as you stop at a junction. The way his fists are clenched on his thighs. His lips pinched together like he’s angry, at himself of course and he’s no longer looking at you. Ashamed. 

BEEP! 

You gasp as the sound rips you from your distraction but before you gather your bearings Andrew has opened the passenger side door and started to get out, face like thunder. 

“Andrew!” You yell, in the nicest possible way. “No! Get back in here!” You reach over just in time to hook a few fingers into one of the belt loops of his jeans, pulling him back in. You don’t succeed of course but he feels the pull and it makes him turn to look at you, a dangerous look in his eyes. 

“He’s being an inpatient little fucker!” He spat as he looked over at the car behind, who has suddenly gone quiet. 

“Andrew…” You plead. 

“He made you jump.” He said, this time to you with a soft voice. 

“I’m okay. I am begging you to get back into the car.” You say it and he hears the weariness in your voice. With one last look at the car behind you, hopefully not to memorise his license plate he gets back in. 

Once it’s safe you turn. 

“It was my fault.” You said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No it wasn’t.” He said before you’d even finished your sentence and despite yourself and the situation you laugh tiredly. It was sweet, in his own way, he knew how much you hated stuff like that but it also showed how short his fuse was at the moment. And that is what scared you. 

When you get back to The Cody house you can tell by the cars that J and Deran are there. You lead over to kiss him gently, he kisses you back following when you pull back. 

“Do you trust me?” You ask him, 

He looks at you like you’re crazy. 

“With everything.” 

“Will you let me take care of you?” 

“You always take care of me.” He says in a small voice that nobody would believe was him. 

You nod. “Can you go pack a bag for me?” 

He stares at you and you know a million thoughts a minute are going through his mind. But he nods. 

“I’ll be back in less than an hour okay?” You tell him. He nods and gets out of the car before walking around to your side, you roll the window down. 

“Drive safe.” He says like every time you’re about to drive away and puts his head into the car to kiss you one more time. 

When you pull back into his drive he’s already stood there waiting arms hanging at his side with his duffle in one hand. He looks like a caged animal, eager to escape. He walks over and taps on your window. 

“We’re taking the truck.” He tells you as you roll your window down. He grabs your bags out of the trunk before you park up and get out. 

He doesn’t say a word as he drives you both away but the further he gets away from Oceanside the more irritated he seems to get. He barely engages with your questions or small talk. Not that he was a huge talker anyway, but still. 

After a couple of hours you’re on the long empty roads in the desert. Ones you know he’s driven many times but his twitchiness still had you on edge. And then he started speaking what seemed like a stream of consciousness to you. 

“She showed me where my Dad was buried.” He told you, a sharp edge to his voice. “Didn’t even know I had a Dad.” 

You shake your head. “What happened to him?” You’re walking a fine line and you know it between angering him and helping him. You just want to get him away from the subject of Smurf.

He didn’t answer, his knuckles grip the steering, you weren’t even sure he was listening. When he sped up you stiffen but deep down you know he won’t put you in danger. You dread to think how he would have been alone. 

“Andrew…” You say warningly. 

“Wanted me dead.” He says speeding up again but this time there’s a car coming on the other side of the road.

“Andrew!” You cry, voice full fear despite trying your best to hide it. This seems to snap him out off it and his foot comes off the accelerator just as the cars passing you. He hits the break and you stop with a skid in the road. He lets out an angry cry hitting the steering wheel so hard you’re sure he will have hurt himself. You think that might have been the point. 

You take a moment, eyes closed to push away the tears but before you can open them you hear his car door slam. You follow. He’s stood in front of a huge sign someone has painted. 

WHO ARE YOU?

————————

FIND THE TRUTH

He hears your feet crunching on the gravel behind him. 

“I’m sorry.” He says but it’s tired. He’s tired of apologising. He’s tired of feeling like he’s losing his mind. He’s tired of everything being so goddamned hard. 

“Don’t.” You say simply and you thread your fingers through his, staring at the sign too. 

A truck drives behind you up to a chain link fence where more signs hang. “What is this?” He asks and as you walk a little further down with him you see a sign. 

“Kinship of light & truth.” 

“Some hippy cult shit by the looks of it.” You shrug and try to pull him away slightly. “Come on. I’m hungry.” 

He smirks slightly. It doesn’t reach his eyes but the fondness for you never leaves, never has. Even throughout all of his episodes over the years.

“Food.” He agrees before leading you back to the truck. 

“Maybe I should drive?” You say with a teasing tone, trying to lighten the mood. It was very hit and miss but sometimes he would play along. 

“Shut up.” He scoffed as he opened the passenger side for you. 

“Your hair looks really good today.” You smile up at him as you pass to climb in. You always tried to compliment him on things, even trivial. Anything to get this mans confidence to where it should be. 

His lips upturn at one side and you take it as a victory. 

After you’d found a small town close by and eaten you were back on the road. Andrew had been driving for the last three hours, still on the long straight dessert roads. He had let you drive for an hour or so, only because you begged to but the second you yawned he made you stop and swap. 

You had both decided there was no plan. You would just drive and be together. And for the first time since you can remember he wanted this. 

He needed this.

To get away from the death, the destruction, the pressure and memories of it all. 

For once Andrew Cody was thinking of himself. 

Now you were relaxed in the passenger seat happily watching him drive along, golden freckled skin wrapped around the muscles of his arms in the setting sun. You hadn’t seen another sole for a long time and he had almost a peaceful look on his face. You smile over at him. This is all you ever wanted. 

He caught you smiling at him, eyes never staying on the road long, softening in that way they only ever had or would for you. The man who handled violence and all the dirty work for his family was gone for a moment, just leaving behind your Andrew. His hand slid across the console, fingers threading through your before resting both in your lap.

“We should stop soon. Is there anywhere to stay close by?” You ask.

“You tired, sweetheart?” 

“No. But you’ve been driving all day. Pretty much.” 

“I’m fine.” He grins dismissively, like he has some secret knowledge that you don’t. Like he isn’t worthy of being worried about. Cared for. Adored.

You decide to remind him. 

“You’re a good driver right?” You ask with a slight grin. He narrows his eyes at you, noticing your tone immediately. 

“The best.” He said. He found it so easy to be confident about things that he could do and not who he was. “Better than you anyway.” He teases back. 

“Well yeah..” You scoff. “Wanna test that out?” You ask as you let your hand reach over to stroke the bulge in his jeans. 

His grip on the steering wheel tightened, a sharp exhale escaping him. The man who never hesitated, never faltered in high pressure situations was struggling to maintain composure and it was addictive. 

“Yeah.” He says in a clipped tone. 

You undo his pants and he lifts his hips just enough for you to move them and pull out his already hardening dick. “Thank you.” You whisper as you look up at him, his dick in your hand. You wait to make sure he is okay with it.

He let out a breath as he gave the slightest nod and takes the hand closest to you off the steering wheel to open his arm to you as you lean into his lap. You suck on the tip first before slowly inching down as far as you can take him. He pants as one hand squeezes the steering wheel and the other strokes gently up and down your back. The truck stayed perfectly steady on the empty road, his control absolute because as good as it felt he couldn’t afford to lose it. Not with you in the car. 

You speed up slightly, letting the spit drip down his cock to help the hand that joined your efforts twist around the base. His hips lifted off the seat instinctively as he moaned your name. You moaning right back. 

“Sweetheart…” He tries to speak. “I gotta…” But you choose that moment to take him right to the back of your throat creating a vacuum around his cock with your mouth. He was fucking your mouth, slowly and carefully. “That’s…” 

You know he’s struggling but you trust him completely so you keep going but he grips the back of your neck with enough strength to pull you off him. “You’re gonna make me…” 

He starts to say as looks down you’re looking up at him, lips swollen and wet, pupils blown and so obviously enjoying yourself. It makes his cock twitch and leak pre cum, which you happily lick up. 

The pleasure shot up his spine and for the first time the car jerked to the wrong side of the road before he quickly corrected himself. He was fighting a losing battle. “I can’t come right now.” He ordered, voice rough with need but he wound’t risk it. “But you can.” 

The hand he had a grip on the back of your neck with slid around to your front, pushing you gently back into your seat. You don’t have much time to think before he’s flipped your dress up and impatiently ripped your lace panties clean off you. “Sit back, sweetheart.” He commands and although his eyes remain on the road he doesn’t wast a second before dipping into your wet pussy and finding your clit. Rubbing slow, tight circles. “I want you to come.”

You spread your legs for him, his fingers easily sliding over you, he couldn’t believe you were so wet from sucking his dick. 

“Put the seat back a little.” He tells you and so you do, gasping when he uses the space to turn his hand, two thick fingers entering you, his muscled arm across your torso whilst his hand his buried between your legs. 

You moan as his fingers slide in and out of you, his palm bumping and rubbing against your clit.

“You’re so good for me.” He says, barely a whisper as he glances at you beside him as much as he can safely do so, jaw locked tight in concentration. 

You gasp when his palm stays grinding into you at a certain angle, fingers curling inside you. “So good..” Your hands cling to the arm pressed into your chest. You look over at him, the other arm tensed as he keeps control of the vehicle and something about it makes you crazy. 

“Yeah?” He asked, in a satisfied rasp, fingers curling deeper making you arch your back in the seat. “Look at you…” He says admiringly as you’re all spread out for him. 

You know it wasn’t an order but something about the way he says it makes you look down where you could see his strong hand pushing into you, your swollen clit rubbing against his palm. He groans your name when he notices your face when you’re watching. “You like watching?” 

“Mmhmm.” Is all you can get out before your head falls back against the headrest, hips beginning to rock into his hand. He barely had to do anything.

“Good girl.” His voice an encouraging deep lull. “Take what you need, sweetheart.” He repeated the words you’d used to him and it made you clench around him and cry out. 

He stops all movement suddenly.

“Pull your dress back down.” He says in a calm but serious voice and you’re confused until you see the headlights of what seems to be a large truck heading towards you. You cursed loudly but does as he says and close your legs around his hand which he leaves exactly where it is. He would never pull out, not when you were this close. 

And you were so close, but he codlin’t risk anyone seeing you that way. You understood but it didn’t make it any easier as you rocked your hips and whimper. 

“Shh, angel.” He soothes, moving his hand ever so slightly so that his thumb could reach your clit, stroking it so, so slowly you banged your head back against the headrest in frustration.

Once the lorry passed you looked over at him. “Please…” you whine. 

“Not yet, let it get a little further away.” You almost suspect this is partly for his own enjoyment by the way his cock throbbed painfully in the place he had haphazardly pushed it back into his jeans. 

You can’t help but let your legs fall open again, one hand sliding down to grip his wrist as your body twitches involuntarily. 

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” He murmured sympathetically but his fingers never moved. He waited until the tailgates of the lorry were tiny red dots before he moved again, hand maintaining the exact steady rhythm he knew you needed. “That’s it.” He murmurs as he feels you clench around his fingers straightaway. 

You cry out his name as you come apart. He usually waits, working you through the aftershocks, letting you ride it out but he pulls out his fingers the second he knows you’re finished, turning the truck harshly off the road. 

The truck hit the asphalt abruptly, bumping into the dirt shoulder sending gravel and dirt shooting up against the car, all the while he’s sucking his fingers clean. When the truck came to a stop in a cloud of dust he unbuckles himself before grabbing you by the hips. “Backseat. Now.” He guides and lifts you over the console into the back seat. 

Then he’s out and walking to back to join you, jeans pushed down to his knees as he sat down in the back seat. His cock is hard and swollen, wet with so much pre cum. He was massive, balls tight with need and it made your pussy ache, especially knowing he had just made you come with absolute patience. 

He had clearly lost that now as he grabs you by your hips and hauls you into his lap operating purely on instinct. Dress shoved up to you waist exposing you completely whilst he grabbed the base of his cock, lined himself up and pulled you down onto him. 

The second you start to sink down on him he lets out the most pathetic sound and it only makes you weaker. You brace yourself on his shoulders pressing close into him as you start to move up and down. 

“Fuck… I can’t… ugh…” He codlin’t even form sentences as his hips were already bucking up into you. You keep riding him pulling him in for a deep kiss, tongues sliding over each other as he grabs your ass, helping you lift and slam back down. His fingers clumsily pull down the front of your dress to expose your breasts, mouth wrapping around one nipple, the other caressed by his hand. 

“Need you…” He pants. 

“You’ve got me… you’ve to me…” You whimper breathlessly, comfortingly. His cock throbs inside of you making your pussy clench, you both moan. "You wanna see?” You whisper against his lips but you don’t wait for an answer. You lean back against the seat behind you giving him a perfect view of where you are joined. Hoping it would effect him just as much as seeing his hand between your legs did you earlier. 

His eyes lock onto where you’re connected, watching himself disappear inside you as you stretch to accommodate his size. You start rocking back and forth whilst he’s completely inside you and you feel him twitch and expand inside you but he sees it.

His head falls back against the seat, his hands gripping your thighs as he says your name in a broken whimper. It’s your undoing and he can tell from your gasp you’re about to come. He rocked up against you, keeping himself deep, watching as your walls flutter around him, your eyes wide and back arched.

“Yes, yes, yes…” He breaths. 

The way his eyes flick greedily between your face and the way your pussy is wrapped around him turns you on even more and you come so hard, wetting his cock even more. 

The visual alone is enough to tear a ragged moan from him as he hols your legs open and starts snapping his hips upward. You moan his name and meet his thrusts as he continues to not know where to look. He was trembling as one deep thrust has him tensing up underneath you, something that sounded like a sob tearing from him. 

Emptying himself in you with broken, helpless noises and his eyes rolling back you feel the thick come coating your walls and moan his name. You look down and his come is already leaking out of you but his cock was still pulsing and he was still writhing under you. After what felt like minutes he finally seemed to calm down.

“Fuck…” He didn’t know what to say. He was a mess. You both were. You’re both shaking when you all forwards onto his chest weakly, his arms wrapping around you immediately. 

“I think we made a mess…” You whisper apologetically after a few minutes as you feel more of him leaking out of you. 

A weak breathless laughter makes his chest vibrate against yours. He was still twitching inside you, his heart only just stopped hammering against your ribs. 

“Yeah.” He rasped, voice almost gone. “Worth it.” 

You knew he was too exhausted, too sated and utterly destroyed to do anything right now. You knew because you were exactly the same. But by some miracle all he cared about in that moment was the weight of you on top of him and the evidence of the moment, the memory you’d just made. He would clean it up but not right now. 

You’d found a motel, not the nicest but you didn’t care as long as you could shower and sleep with Andrew beside you. 

Then you were back on the road. 

“Can I ask about your Dad?” You say a couple hours into the drive the next day. 

He just nods once. 

“So he died?” You asked. 

“Yeah.” His voice was gruff and full of emotion he wasn’t sure he was allowed to have. He had resented his Father for so much of his life having been told nothing from Smurf. Understandably he had assumed that like Deran and Craig’s Dad’s that his and Julias had just left. 

“I’m sorry.” You say as you reach over to grab his hand. Since the night before he had been ever so slightly less tense. 

“Me too.” He says with a slightly shrug of his shoulder. 

“Did you find out anything else about him?”

“Billy said he was the only one my Mom actually loved.” 

You actually smile at the thought of Smurf actually in love. Toy with the idea that if Colin had lived then maybe she wouldn’t have been such a bitch. 

“That must be where all the good in you came from.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge it and you’re not surprised. 

“Stop!” You shout point at a sign for a town. “Turn. Please.” And of course he does. “Can we get day drunk?” 

He looks over at you, amusement in his eyes. “It’s one fifteen.” 

“It’s five o clock somewhere, that’s the saying right?” You look over at him hopefully.

“It sure is, sweetheart.” He sighs with a lightness you haven’t seen in him in weeks. 

That’s how you end up drunk at 4pm in the afternoon. 

The only way to describe Andrew "Pope" Cody drunk was that he'd go one of two ways. There was never an in-between.

And you knew that tonight was a gamble.

But if it went the way you hoped it would… It'd be worth it.

And it was. 

“Do you remember…” he lets out a small laugh. “That time we were swimming in the ocean and you thought something had bitten you?” 

“It hurt!” You laugh along. You love him like this. It’s far and in between but he is almost care free, he is right there in the moment with you.

“It was seaweed.” He said his head tilted forward looking up at you, a tight smile on his face. 

“It moved!” You argue. 

“The tide moved.” He deadpanned as he slid closer to you on the booth you were both sitting on. You happily leaned into him, his arm resting on the top of the seat around you. “Remember when you used to count my freckles?” He said in a low, rough voice. Your stomach flutters at the memories of how many times you’d started and never been able to finish. 

The ways you both got distracted. 

“Yeah… I’ve still never finished that.” You look up at him with lust filled eyes, a look he knew so well by now. 

He dips his head letting his lips meet yours in an intense kiss, his large hand cupping your face, surrounding you in the back booth of a dive bar. You feel the soft growl in his chest rather than hear it and you pull back to remind yourselves where you are. 

Time goes on and you never want to leave, in that bar you could both be anyone. Just a normal couple reminiscing and unable to keep their hands off each other. But you were quickly learning life was just always waiting to throw something at Andrew Cody. 

You were going to get your last drink under his watchful eye of course as he could see the bar from your booth. Instantly you knew what was going to happen when a man came over, correction… the drunkest man in the bar came over slamming his glass down next to you. His drink spilling out over your arm and the already sticky bar. 

You gasped on instinct the mans blurry eyes finding you and in the back of your mind you knew Andrew would already be standing up. 

Shit.

“Shut up bitch.” He slurs. “You were in my wa…” He doesn’t get to finish his sentence because Andrew grips the back of the mans neck, not unlike he had done to you last night just without the tenderness, of course. 

Before the obliterated man even has time to know what’s going on he’s yanked back and smashed face first into the bar top so harshly you hear something crack. 

Silence follows but you react quickly. 

"Fuck..." you whisper, grabbing Andrew's arm. "Come on.”

You tug, but he doesn't move.

He's a statue.

Every muscle in his body locked, his eyes fixed on the man crumpled over the bar.

You know that look. And you know he won't leave until he's decided it’s done.

You don't let yourself think about what that might mean.

“Andrew please, look at me.” You plead with him as the chaos starts, someone shouts to call the police, the drunk guy slides down onto the floor, other men approaching warily. Like they want to fight him but recognise something in him. 

His eyes shoot to yours the second you ask him to and he finally lets you pull him out of the bar. He’d parked the car around the back where there had been no cameras, such an Andrew thing to do but you were glad of it now. 

“You shouldn’t drive.” You say. 

He snorts still obviously slightly under the influence of it, or his version of that anyway.  “I think we’re a little past traffic offences.” 

“That’s not funny!” You shout back but laug despite yourself. 

“Get in the truck.” He demands with a smirk you would commit your own crimes to see more often. 

He speeds away and once you’re back on the freeway you’re just laughing, Andrew joining in a little. He’s looking over at you with a light in his eyes you wish you could bottle and give to him in his bad times. You ask him to stop eventually, it was getting dark and you hadn’t found any other towns close by.

You’d packed sleeping bags and blankets just in case and so you set up in the bed of his truck for the night, under the stars. You were lay beside each other holding hands, looking at the sky, but not really.

You were stealing looks at him and he was just unashamedly staring at you. 

“You still love me.” It’s a statement and you smile wide as you turn your head to look at him. You’d heard him question it far too many times. “After everything…” He swallows and looks up at the stars again. “After everything I’ve done.” 

“Always.” You tell him. 

“If you love me…” He says, his voice becoming unsteady as a tear runs down the side of his face. “I can’t be… completely bad.” He says it like he’s studying it, trying to make sense of it. 

You sit up just enough to hover over him and wipe his tears, even though they keep coming. 

“Why have you never been scared of me?”  He looks completely broken by everything, but not in the way he did a couple of days ago. The distance was definitely helping. 

“Because I know you.”  

“I’m not sure I do.” He says shakily, clearly unsettled by the blackouts he’s had recently. 

“Then let me, handsome.” You tell him softly as you stroke his hair back from his forehead.

He looks up at you like that’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard. “But you know what I’ve done.” He cries.

“I also know why.” 

He stares at you looking for anything that might hint you don’t mean it. But as ever you’re resolute in your love for him.

You know he’s done when he straightens his face, he’s not going to argue it, not right now at least. He pulls you down onto his chest, holding you tight, his hand grabbing your before securing in on his chest under his own. 

“I love you.” He whispers. 

“I love you.” You reply. 

You’d been gone a week when you started to head back. You knew it wouldn’t be permanent, this was Andrew. This was his brothers. You were just so glad he was coming back in what seemed to be a stronger frame of mind. 

You’d had more sex than you could count, talked him through anything he was willing to open up about and you were sure this trip would stay sacred to you for a long time despite the way it came about. 

Not far from Oceanside you had asked if you could stop by your parents. He was wary at first. Although he saw them from time to time and they were always nice to him, knowing he was a constant in your life, they had been scared of him. The thing was, and they had told him so, he would always have a place in their home and a soft spot in their hearts. They knew his history. 

“We always knew he snuck in. We thought it was sweet.” Your Mom says as she puts a drink in front of you both. 

You grimace knowing how unsweet they would think it was if they knew what you actually got up to. The mortified look in Andrews eyes as he stared at the table almost made you lose your composure. You rub his thigh reassuringly under the table. 

“You had a nice trip then?” Your Dad asked, looking at Andrew. 

“Yeah. We did. Thank you.” He replies with a nod. Most people would have gone into details but you supposed it wasn’t exactly the vacation most people would expect. And Andrew wasn’t one for small talk.

The conversation goes a lot like that before Andrew excuses himself. You were all used to this. Used to Andrew. So it didn’t matter. 

“Is he doing okay?” Your Dad asked, you’d told them about Smurf passing from cancer. 

“He’s…” You nod. “He’s getting there.” 

“Awful woman.” Your Mom says from in the kitchen. 

“Mom!” You scold with a smirk.

“Well she is.” You all laugh. Your parents had more right than anyone to hate Smurf, after all they’d seen the social services report and probably saw things they would never repeat. Even to you. 

After a while you follow him outside and see him staring up at the treehouse. 

“This is where we met.” He rasps, nodding his head up once as you approach. 

Once you’re stood beside him you adopt the same stance, looking up at the place it had all started.

“Yep.” Your voice is full of fondness and he looks at you, eyes rimmed red like he cannot believe that him coming into your life could ever be a fond memory. 

“I’m such a fucking idiot.” He holds back his tears but his voice is wrecked. 

“What?” You say surprised, having thought you were discussing a nice memory. 

He swipes his hand over his eyes once. “I love you.” 

He says it slowly. Almost like he’s only just realising it but you know that’s not the case. 

You stand in front of him about to say it back and ask what he means but he speaks before you can. 

“I kept waiting.” 

“For what, Andrew?” You ask so confused. 

“To be good enough.” He says it simply, like he’s not just torn your heart from your chest at his admission. You always knew he held himself back that little bit, you always knew he didn’t feel worthy but hearing him say it… killed you. 

“Oh, Andrew.” You cry and pull him into you.

He pulls back only enough to take your face in his hand, study your face, bit by bit. 

“Come home with me.” He says, voice rough with emotion. You scrunch up your brow in confusion before you realise what he’s saying. 

Make a home with me. 

Make a life with me. 

“Your home?” 

“Our home.” He clarifies with a small smile. “I know it’s not… I’ll still have to…”

“Shh…” You tell him as you pull him down to kiss you. “Our home.” 

You smile up at him and he lifts you by your thighs, wrapping you around him properly. 

“Was that our first home?” You ask teasingly as you look up at the treehouse and he laughs swatting your ass lightly. 

This time he wasn’t going anywhere. 

You hoped. 

I don't think I'd seen Smurf's death handled like this before and I appreciated your approach. You also incorporated reader into Andrew's S5 'odyssey' so well! I did laugh at reader being like "lol nope!" with a popped p when they saw the signs of the commune.

“Do you trust me?” You ask him,  He looks at you like you’re crazy.  “With everything.”  “Will you let me take care of you?”  “You always take care of me.” He says in a small voice that nobody would believe was him. 

MY HEART UGH!!!!

THE COLIN MENTION 😭Did you kiss that brick before you threw it? It's so devastating that they never met and having to think about how different things could've been if he'd lived. And the parallels between them! I haven't seen Colin mentioned in many fics so it was nice to see him referenced here and it hopefully be something more validating and positive for Andrew.

“If you love me…” He says, his voice becoming unsteady as a tear runs down the side of his face. “I can’t be… completely bad.”

SOBBING!

Interesting having the DCFS report brought up. I can imagine that would create a really complicated and nuanced dynamic with reader's parents and Andrew. Them having some more empathy for him and then him probably being self-conscious and anxious about what they know and having vulnerable details. Irrelevant but I've always wondered what the exact context was for him to end up in foster care, I do wish it was something mentioned in the flashback timelines.

And reader's mum's response to Smurf dying was so funny but true.

“Our home.”

Ow. I only want them to be happy!

This time he wasn’t going anywhere.  You hoped. 

ENDING IT THERE? I'M SCARED! I'M SCARED FOR THEM!