Lan

"You kept me up all night." you teased. "Not complaining, but I need at least another hour."

Andrew leaned to the side of the bed, checking the clock on the bedside table to confirm the time. "It's 6. We got til 7 til we gotta get up and get Lena to school. I think Baz and Lucy just left her here last night."

"Assholes." you said, referring to Baz and his girlfriend. "But he gets a pass for getting my Andrew back home to me."

He twitched at that. Your Andrew. Those weren't words he'd ever heard paired together. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge them either, knowing he'd probably say something stupid or mess up and make it so you never said them again. And he wanted you to say it again, wanted it to be a fact of life. Because he was your Andrew. The events of the past few days only confirmed it.

"I'll get up." you groaned, earning a matching groan from him when you left his arms, beginning the trek to get up.

When you stood up from the bed, stretching, making noises that confused Andrew's body, he looked to you, taking in the sight of your nude body as you got up to pick up his clothes that he'd given you off the bedroom floor. Meanwhile, he admired you, shifting on his side to get a better view of you, feeling a little perverted, but encouraged to keep staring when you smiled teasingly at him, making a show of walking around to purposely rile him up.

"Gonna shower before we go drop Lena off at school. I'll take some clothes from your closet til I can go back to Deran's to change."

He sat up, hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and nodding.

"Yeah, okay. I'll, uh, I'll go make us some breakfast."

But you walked back to him, rerouting from your path to the restroom and pulling at his arm as he sat against the bedframe.

"Or," you dragged the consonant. "you could take a shower with me. Saves water and all."

You took a few steps back, his hand still on yours, lightly pulling him closer to getting up.

"That's ... that could be dangerous."

"I live life on the edge." you joked, forcing a small chuckle out of him, you giggling along.

In the end, he could never say no to you. Specially not as he saw you standing there, naked, looking to him with a teasing glint in your eyes, lower lip trapped by your frontal teeth. And so he stood up, sheets falling off his body and leaving him just as nude as you.

As he warmed up the water for you, you brushed your teeth, shameless as you eyed his backside through the mirror and winking at him when he caught your eyes on him. He looked down, blinking hard a few times before joining you in brushing your teeth.

Finished, you made your way to the shower, opening and closing the clear glass door as you allowed the steamy water to dampen your skin, arching your back as it rained down all over you and giving Andrew what felt like a life-ruining view from the mirror.

He spit out his toothpaste, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and marching to the shower, harshly opening the door and slamming it shut before cornering you against the shower wall, welcomed immediately by your arms and by your tongue, which wrapped around his within half a second of his mouth being on yours.

Greedy hands rubbed at your skin, antsy and frustrated first thing in the morning. One hand wrapped around your thigh, wrapping it around his waist while the other held onto your hip, making sure you had a good foundation and wouldn't slip on the wet floor.

This was the fourth time within the past 48 hours in which Andrew had had you naked and at his mercy, hard dick weeping at a chance to find a home inside you. But he'd quickly learned that he just couldn't help himself around you. Just one look from you, one tilt of your head or one bite of your lip and his fingers burned to be on you, to mead the skin of your hips, grip your thighs and fold you in whichever way necessary to make space for himself inside you.

He continued kissing you, hips rolling against your own, killing his own sanity as he ground into you, hardness pressing onto your weeping cunt, creating a friction that had you gasping his name into his lips. The stream of water made it so he could enjoy your sounds without worrying that J and Nicky would hear you from the other room attached to the bathroom.

"Please, Andrew." you licked his lips, nibbling at the bottom one, dragging a grunt out of him. "Want you to fuck me. Please?"

"I will." he promised, tongue trailing down your jaw, moving onto the water droplets on your neck. "Just give me a second."

You let him have his fun, let him suck hickeys all over your chest, bite you to the point he almost drew blood. You let him scratch at your skin, leaving red marks on your legs and hips as his hips began losing control during the torturous grind he'd set. You let him have anything he wanted, rewarding him with sighs of his name, with hands playing with his hair, with your hips matching his rhythm.

"Turn around." he said after he'd had his fill, strong hands already working you to face away from him before you could do it yourself. "I want you like this."

A whine left you, as if him wanting you was something you just couldn't handle. He still couldn't understand that reaction, couldn't understand why you wanted him as much as he did you (and he still wasn't convinced that was really possible). But he pushed those thoughts aside, grabbing onto his dick and pressing into your opening, sighing your name when you arched your back, pushing your hips back, showing him how much you wanted him.

"Oh, god, Andrew ..." you cried, and Andrew wished he could see the look on your face now, could see your eyes rolling back in the way he'd gotten to witness a few times already just mere hours ago.

"I know." he grunted, forehead digging through your hair and landing on your shoulder, heavy breath landing against your skin.

He began hammering into you then, groaning as you'd push back against him.

Without meaning to, he lost himself in it, pushing you harder against the glass, making your hands fall off the glass and lay to your sides, your breasts now pressed up against it and his thrusts making it vibrate with the intensity in which he fucked into you. His grunts and your whines filled up the room, overpowering the stream of the shower hitting the floor.

Cries of his name left your lips, growing louder by the second. His eyes rolled back at the sound, at the feel of you squeezing around him, begging he keep going, begging he fill you up and mark you as his again and again.

"Is it good? Huh? Tell me." he huffed out.

"S-so good, Andrew." you moaned. "Don't stop. Fuck, don't stop. I need- need you to- Oh, oh fuck, Andrew."

He groaned one last time, letting go, releasing in you for the nth time since you'd first let him get his hands on you. A broken cry left him, head burying in your shoulder and biting there again.

Desperately, his hand rounded your body, index and middle fingers reaching between your legs and finding your clit, circling it harshly in eight's so he could get you there with him.

And when you came, you cried his name again, fogging the glass in front of you, smearing it with drool and purring when he gasped at the way in which you squeezed him as you came.

It took a few moments for the two of you to catch your breaths, but Andrew immediately turned you back around, chest still contracting and relaxing deeply as he leaned into you and kissed your forehead, mumbling soft words to you.

"Wasted a lot of water there, huh?"

"Yeah." he chuckled. "Bad for the environment."

"But good for me." you rebutted, reaching behind him to grab his shampoo. "Can I use this? Wanna smell like you."

You said it so casually, making him swallow before he nodded. He stepped aside, giving you some space to rummage through his things in the shower, which you did freely. Grabbing the things you were going to use, you turned back to him with a grin.

"C'mon, turn around. I'm gonna wash your hair first."

"You don't have to do that-"

You shook your head, petulant. "I've been itching to get my hands on those curls. Please?" you dragged the 'e', batting your lashes at him and giggling when he nodded reluctantly.

The two of you spent about half an hour in there, washing each other's hair, gathering suds of soap on each others bodies and sharing a few kisses in between.

Your fingers on his hair had him in heaven. The occasional kiss landed on his back, on his shoulders, making his eyes flutter shut due to the softness behind your every touch. He almost felt himself falling asleep as he stood there, taking your every affectionate caress and purring when you started humming some tune, filling up the otherwise silent bathroom.

By 7:08, the two of you were ready to start the day, with you heading over to wake Lena while Andrew made a quick breakfast for the two of you, being talked into making some extra for his brother when you walked in and kissed his cheek, taking pity on a hungover Deran lounging nearby.

➽──────────────────❥

As it usually went in Andrew's life, things couldn't stay as serene as they'd been that morning for long.

He had a true first taste of what a domestic life would feel like. He'd woken up with the love of his life in his arms, being kissed and touched as you practically begged him to fuck you. He'd made breakfast for his family, having you jokingly feed him a pastry and kissing the smeared jelly off his lip. He'd driven Lena to school, with you on the passenger seat while he listened to the two of you talk, giggling with each other.

And then he'd arrived home, opening your door and leading you off the car reluctantly as he spotted the police officers waiting for the two of you there.

At first he'd believed it was some benign issue. Maybe last night's party had gotten too loud. Maybe a neighbor had complained.

But it wasn't that.

Baz was dead.

His voice shook as he asked for confirmation, his body trembling and only finding fortitude when your hand reached out to him, holding onto his arm as the officers spoke to you, offering some silent support as you also took in the news.

Andrew wanted to break down, wanted to scream, break something, take his anger out on the messengers, to make matters even worse by losing his mind. But you provided an anchor for him, worried eyes and frowny lips showing him your concern, but not voicing it, giving him space to feel everything he needed to feel without attempting to deter his emotions.

With you, he rushed to wake Nicky up, being perhaps meaner than he needed to be as he dragged her along with the two of you into his truck and went to look for J, asking you to call Deran and Craig as he drove J back to the house for a family meeting.

"How?" Deran asked, distraught.

You all gathered together in the living room, with the exception of Craig, who had run off to Mexico with Renn sometime the previous night.

"Cops only said he'd been ... he'd been shot."

"By who?"

"They didn't say."

"You didn't ask?" Deran raised his voice, though you knew it was out of sadness rather than frustration.

"Of course I asked!" Andrew yelled.

"Baz is dead?" Nicky whispered, shocked, sad.

"Where's Craig?" Andrew had been kept out of the loop.

"He took off last night with some money and the Scout."

"You try calling him?" Andrew paced around the room, not knowing where to look, where to stop.

"Yeah. He's on his way to Mexico. Probably doesn't have any service."

J interrupted. "Did he leave around the same time Baz got shot?"

This caused both Andrew and Deran to halt, avert their eyes and look to J with disdain in them.

"What's that supposed to mean, J?" you could hear the grit in Deran's voice.

"He didn't mean it like that." you finally interjected, getting up from the couch and stepping towards Andrew, holding his hand wordlessly.

"Yeah, well."

"You need to find Craig. They could be looking for him too." Andrew warned, hand squeezing yours.

"Who's coming for Craig?" Nicky's tone was worried, exasperated.

"Smurf is in jail for killing Javi, sweetie. You don't think his crew's gonna have something to say about that?"

The room fell silent at Andrew's cold intonation, everyone growing more worried by the second. The silence was sharp, bitter, making your heart race and the feeling of dread gnaw at you.

"What about Lucy?" Deran wondered out loud.

Andrew ignored him, looking down on him from his spot sitting on the couch. "Find Craig now."

Later in the day, all the brothers were called down to the police's station, the requirement of individual interviews coming up due to the nature of Baz's death. You remained quiet through it all, not knowing how to comfort Andrew, feeling inadequate at Deran's icy glare.

It was a strange feeling, feeling so out of place as the two men mourned their brother, as J shared your inadequacy, never having been too close to Baz. They discussed theories of Baz's death in front of you, clashing with each other about what to do with Smurf, how to get revenge from whoever killed Baz, who'd take care of Lena.

But looking at Andrew, you knew that in the end all these burdens would likely fall on him. You knew that no matter how much you cared for your friend Deran, how much you'd grown to respect J, that Andrew carried a big weight as the eldest brother. In your eyes you could see his worries, sharing his dread for what was to come next in Lena's life.

You gave him space, not wanting to be too much for him at that moment. While Andrew planned his next move, you went to Deran, hugging him, kissing his cheek, caressing his hair and silently crying at your friend's sadness. He'd told you to do the same for Pope. That he'd need it once he fully processed what happened.

When Andrew asked you to stay home with Nicky while he and his brothers went to give their statements, as he went to tail J as he visited Smurf, you agreed, not many words exchanged between you.

He was acting cold, detached. It made you feel out of place, gave you whiplash from how affectionate he'd been just a few hours prior. But you understood. You held your ground, kissing his cheek, hugging him and telling him you were sorry for his loss, that you were there for whatever he needed.

And when it came to be the afternoon and Andrew came home from picking up Lena, you found yourself agreeing at his request that you move in with him to Baz's apartment. Something about Lena wanting to stay there, liking her home and him wanting to give her that stability now that both her parents were gone.

He'd been shy about it, easy to read in how he was beating himself up about it, likely thinking himself an inconvenience.

"I ... I know it's soon." he started. "I know we've only been together for- not for long." but then he corrected himself. "I don't even know if we're together-"

You interrupted, grabbing his hand. "Hey." he looked to you then. "We're together. And I'll go. I'll tell Deran I'm moving out and I'll go stay with you and Lena."

Andrew swallowed, looking down.

"Are you sure? If it's too much, I understand."

Shaking your head, you smiled at him again, light, small. "It's not too much. We'll do this together, okay?"

He kissed you then, for the first time since you'd left the bathroom together that morning. He sighed against your lips, letting himself get a little more carried away than he'd hoped before forcing himself to pull away.

"I love you." was the last thing he said before grabbing your hand and leading you to his car.

➽──────────────────❥

Six months passed since Baz's death.

Six months since you and Andrew took up the responsibility of raising Lena yourselves.

Six months since you'd been holed up in Baz's old apartment, playing the domestic game of a family together as you tried to keep Lena afloat.

Six months since Andrew had been dealing with his grief, trying and failing to find out who'd killed his brother.

The two of you struggled to keep Lena from wallowing in her grief, something she was still too young to really understand. Getting bullied at school over her family's reputation, she stayed up all night, didn't eat, refused to go to school. And you took on the responsibility of being there for her, becoming the closest thing to a maternal figure and as much of a friend to her as you could be.

After getting her into a private school, Andrew would begin disappearing during the days, spending a few hours parked outside as he waited for her day to finish, the rest being used up in investigating Baz's murder.

The domestic bliss was dystopian at times, not what you'd pictured, and Andrew could tell. Yet he couldn't help himself in becoming obsessive with every issue that began to arise. Smurf still didn't know about you, which was the only silver lining in his life.

Things began to look up after Lena settled into her private school, somewhere around the same time Craig came back from Mexico and J started lining up new jobs for them. Things were still muddled, with too many issues left to fix for Andrew to count, but as he came back home with well-earned money in his pocket, finding you with his shirt on and cooking dinner for him, he couldn't help but see the good in life.

In the past six months of living together, Andrew became a little better at physical affection. He was still a little awkward, not knowing when it was acceptable for him to touch you (always) or how it was acceptable to touch you (in any way), but you'd always smile at him, eyes wrinkling in amusement at how he'd fumble even after all this time.

He approached you from behind, mumbling a low 'hey' as he pondered whether or not to do that things couples did where the guy would come up behind the girl as she cooked, wrap his arms around her and press up against her. It seemed domestic, like the type of thing he'd be expected to do (and the type of thing he craved to do), but he faltered halfway, instead reclining against the counter.

But you weren't like him.

Instead of taking a simple 'hey' and welcoming him home with one in return, you turned down the heat of the burners, turning around and meeting him where he stood, placing your arms on his shoulders before sneaking them back to the back of his head, finding the curls there and tugging at them softly. You leaned up for a kiss, humming when he tried to pull away and licking his lip for an entrance.

"Missed you today." you mumbled between kisses, sighing when he finally let his guard down and laid his hands on your waist, light hold as if he was already pushing it.

Your hands moved his own down to your ass, chuckling when he grunted at it, mumbling that he'd missed you too, but barely able to get the words out between kisses.

"Job go well?"

He nodded. "Yeah. J came up with a good one today."

"That's good. You look like you're in a good mood."

"I wasn't, actually. The guys are still fighting. But I feel better now."

You smiled, biting your lip. "What, cause you came home to me?"

"Yeah."

You kissed him again, a little harder now, purposely moaning into his mouth just to get a reaction out of him and succeeding when his fingers flexed, squeezing at the meat of your ass. Pulling him closer, you arched into him, licking his mouth and murmuring his name when his tongue sucked on yours, creating a squelching sound that had your legs pressing together.

"Let me ... let me take you to our room." he interrupted, mumbling a couple of words in between kisses, unable to fully separate from you.

"What if I want it here?"

You were teasing. You knew of Andrew's aversion to disorder, well aware that fucking in the kitchen was something he just could not bring himself to do. It was something that'd be deeply uncomfortable for him, but he knew you were teasing, knew you liked to rile him up a little, to get things going by making him fight with himself before he could truly have you.

"It's dirty. Sex shouldn't be had in the kitchen."

One last kiss was delivered to his lips, with one following in tandem on his nose, and one on his chin.

"Then take me to bed, handsome."

With minimal effort, he lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he took a few steps towards the stove and turned off the burner before dragging you along to your shared bedroom. There, he laid you down at the edge of the bed, not hovering over you as per usual, but instead kneeling on the floor, looking up at you with hooded eyes, with his chest heaving as he struggled to control himself.

It never took long for you to break him down into this state, into a mindless mess that sought out your body like a lifeline. One look, one touch, was all he needed to lose himself and seek pleasure from your body like his life depended on it. And everything about you gave him pleasure. He could bury himself between your legs for hours, meet his completion inside his boxers as he rocked his hips into the mattress while you cried his name. He could hammer into you with endless need, reach his end as you dragged your nails down his back. Or sometimes he could lay back, falling victim to your seduction, to the breathy whispers against his ear begging that he let you take him in your mouth, arguing against all his refusals (refusals born out of low self esteem, out of feeling like he didn't deserve that sort of self-serving pleasure) and whimper your name as you toyed at him for hours on end, only letting him cum after tears dampened his cheeks.

Even as he'd grown used to the carnal bliss you gave him time and time again, Andrew could never handle how you made him feel. Even now as he knelt before you, hard and bursting through his pants while he stared up at your bare thighs, — your shirt having already been thrown off as he reminisced of every time you'd filled these walls with cries of each other's names — he groaned as he lowered his lips down to your foot, one hand holding onto your foot and holding your ankle up to his mouth.

You were sitting up, looking down at him with a lustful heaviness in your eyes. You inhaled deeply when he began kissing up the length of your legs, sucking hickeys all throughout it, not caring about the atypical spots in which he was leaving marks (next to your ankle, your calves, your thighs). He got off in knowing he could have you losing your breath with kisses in non-erogenous zones, losing his own at every sigh that left your lips, silently begging for more.

"You've been so patient with me." he whispered between kisses to your thighs. "You've put up with too much." every few words were punctured with a kiss, a suck, a lick.

His hands gripped your legs, sitting up on his knees and lips reaching your panties while your eyes fluttered.

"You're everything to me." he kissed your cunt then, tongue sneaking out and licking at your clit through the lace of your panties.

"You're everything." you whined, brain already empty as you corrected him.

Andrew groaned, burying his head in your cunt, licking harshly at you despite the fabric and rubbing his nose against your clit. It took him a while to grow desperate enough to lick you raw, ripping off your underwear carelessly, breathing you in deeply when he finally had your cunt right in front of him.

His hands reached up, grabbing your hips and scooting you over closer, looking up at you as he licked, eyes begging silently, hoping you understood what he wanted.

And you did. You needed no words to understand Andrew, just as you always had.

Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips gyrated against his face, practically riding his tongue. This provided Andrew with the prettiest view, with your mouth agape and your eyes rolled back, a hand on his hair and the other rubbing at your nipple. Andrew whimpered against you, cried your name despite knowing it'd get muffled by your cunt.

"Oh, f-fuck, Andrew ... That's it, that's so- Oh ..."

Cries of his name filled up the room, and then he lost his mind. He gripped at your hips again, sitting up straighter and pushing you to lie back on the bed, head now hovering over your cunt as he tongued at it with a complete lack of finesse. He shook his head back and forth, licked in patterns, out of patterns, rubbed your clit, lined your entrance, he did everything that his lust-filled heart wished to at that moment, stealing an orgasm from you without bothering to stop.

"Andrew, baby, that's- that's enough. I can't-"

"Please." he mumbled, almost inaudible.

And he was taking advantage, really.

He knew by now that you had a hard time saying no to him. It was rare for him to use this privilege, to even ask for something from you, but he couldn't help himself in this moment.

You'd been the first light in his life ever since Julia had been taken away from him, ever since Cath's rejection really dawned on him and he'd been made to get rid of her. You were the only person he'd ever loved like this, the only thing he needed to exist. He'd grown to a point where he knew that he could take anything coming his way as long as he had you, the one and only person who looked forward to seeing him, who kissed him goodnight and couldn't fall asleep unless he laid beside you.

At some point during his internal monologue, he'd began humping the bed, aggressively pressing his hardness against it as his hands gripped you with a bruising capacity. He was groaning into your cunt, creating a mess of your juices and his saliva while you screamed his name above him.

You couldn't speak anymore. No words left you, making Andrew lightheaded at realizing that his name was the one and only thing you remembered while in complete delirium.

When you came a second time, he followed right behind you, almost biting at you at the sudden burst of pleasure, the liquid squirting inside his pants and making him grunt at the feeling. But it was really the last thing on his mind. It wasn't something he could concern himself with at the moment because, see, Andrew could be pretty one-track minded sometimes, and right now you were the only thing on his mind.

He crawled up to you, well aware by now of how touchy you'd get after orgasming, finding you already stretching your arms towards him and making grabby hands while you attempted to catch your breath.

"C'mere, Andrew. Wanna taste."

He landed on you, mouth first and tongue ready to be received by yours. Even with his aversion to germs, he couldn't find it in himself to mind the mixture of fluids being exchanged by you at that moment. Instead of feeling antsy, his eyes rolled back as you suckled shamelessly at his tongue, moan vibrating against him when you caught a taste of yourself.

"Go change your pants, handsome. I know you're probably itching at the feeling."

"Sorry." he gave you a light smile. "I wanted to do it with you, just-"

"Don't apologize. It was hot." you bit his lip one last time before getting up with him, guiding him to the bathroom with a silent promise to help him wash up.

➽──────────────────❥

The following day hadn't gone as well for Andrew.

He'd had his usual routine, one that you'd grown used to sharing with him, tending to it every morning with little variation in between.

Andrew knew he had some issues, that he was unlike others when it came to order. He knew he could be hard to deal with, just a little too intense when it came to the simpler things.

But you'd never once expressed any dislike towards any of his habits. You'd never questioned him for anything other than clarification, wondering why he liked his sandwiches made a specific way and copying his method next time around, joining him when he folded his clothes and asking him to teach you his method, allowing him to make the bed every morning to his liking, giving him a kiss on the cheek accompanied by a 'thank you' for taking on the task every time.

And today, he'd done the same thing, receiving his kiss and heading out with you and Lena, dropping her off at school before leaving you at Deran's bar and heading his own way for some other job orchestrated by J.

The job went as well as most others, with very minimal issues and a large sum of money acquired by the end. And as per usual, they'd all decided to head back to the house for a celebratory meal, one which you'd offered to cook since Smurf was now gone from the house.

But before Andrew could walk inside, bask in the fact that he had a girl that was crazy about him waiting for him and his brothers with food on the table, he was met with an unknown car parked in the driveway.

The person that stepped out of it was Billy.

Billy, as in Deran's deadbeat dad.

Immediately, Andrew grew angry, yelling at him to get the hell out of his property, practically threatening his life in the process.

None of his brothers had any idea who he was, having been too young to recognize his face from the incredibly short amount of time he'd been around. This meant that Andrew was the only person present who was aware of Billy's heinous behavior while he was just a kid. He was the only one who knew of the endless times in which Smurf had to kick him out, of the shady men he brought around that caused trouble for Julia, of the time in which he'd locked him in a closet for three days.

But even with his anger and insistence he be kicked to the curve, his brothers were reluctant, Deran too curious about his dad and Craig just bored and nosy. J was indifferent, and you were angry along with Andrew as soon as you'd caught wind of the way he'd treated your boyfriend when he was a kid.

Sadly, it was three votes against two, meaning Billy did stick around for longer than Andrew would've liked. Him, and his companion Frankie, who Craig had gained interest on upon laying eyes on her.

Things only got worse for Andrew as DCFS started to snoop around Lena's life, questioning her, raiding your shared home, making thinly-veiled threats of taking her away. All while Deran made plans for a job with Billy, a job that required an extra man, meaning that Deran was eyeing you for the task, creating even more tension in Andrew's life.

That's how you found yourself driving a truck of cargo for them a few days later, agreeing to participate as long as you didn't have to do anything overtly illegal. Andrew was still bothered by it all, but your presence helped him despite the general worry of things going wrong and implicating you with their crimes.

You were driving contraband — as in hollow basinets in which Deran and J would hide, waiting for you to deliver them onto a cargo plane that would then take them to their final destination. After you finished your part, Andrew picked you up on his truck, driving Billy and Craig along as you all headed towards the final meeting point in the middle of the desert.

You sat in the back, diagonal to Andrew as he drove, next to Billy and behind Craig.

"You do any funny shit and I'll kill you." Andrew had warned Billy as soon as he saw him eyeing you, bothered you'd be sitting in the back with him, but knowing Craig was more needed at the front, more experienced.

"Damn, Pope. This your girl? Didn't think you had it in you."

All you could do was ignore him, look out the window and try not to laugh when Billy had reached to the front to turn on some music, only to have his hand slapped away by Andrew, being threatened with getting thrown off the car if he tried again.

At some point you parked, getting out of the car with Andrew as you waited, attempting to calm him as he argued with Billy about benign things, some of which grew more serious as they both irritated one another further.

"Remember the time you lit a fire in the RV?" Billy chuckled, wiping his sunglasses as he paced around in boredom.

"Oh, I remember a lot of things, man. A lot of things."

Billy groaned, as if already fed up of Andrew. "Jesus Christ, like what?"

"Like the time you locked me in a closet and you went to score and you forgot about me for three days?"

You interrupted, scoffing at Billy. "What the fuck? Why would you do that to a kid?"

Andrew shook his head in disbelief, annoyed to relive it.

"Okay, first of all, that never happened." Billy started. "It was a day and a half. But I was a kid, what'd you want me to do?" he continued to pace around while you and Andrew leaned back against the car, Craig napping inside it.

"I was the kid. You were ... You were an adult. You were ... You were 25." Andrew grew exasperated, likely the outcome Billy wanted.

"Yeah, well, technically, the male brain doesn't mature until age 26, okay? So we were both kids."

"I guess you haven't gotten there yet, have you Billy?" you interjected, rolling your eyes at him.

Before he could respond, you grabbed Andrew's hand, taking him away from what was clearly an stressor for him and guiding him to the car with you. Billy continued complaining outside, only getting back into the car to ask Craig if he had some oxy or some blow to kill the time.

Your wait lasted longer than expected, with J calling you guys up and telling you their side of the plan had a detour, that they'd landed at the wrong spot and needed you guys to drive all the way over there, round the mountain past over 60 miles and pick them up from there.

Annoyed at having to share the car with Billy for longer than expected, you bit your tongue, hoping Billy would do the same and leave Andrew alone.

But his silence lasted mere seconds, with him insisting he needed a stop, that he needed to score, or maybe make a pit stop so he could have a few minutes with a hooker to take the edge off. Through the whole ordeal, he and Andrew argued, with Craig annoyingly taking Billy's side in wanting to stop for a piss, or to join Billy in scoring some drugs.

"Yeah, right, he doesn't mind if you piss your pants." Billy started once again when Andrew refused to pull over. "Cause he was in diapers till he was 6." he cackled, enjoying the humiliation he was dawning on Andrew. "God, I remember that like it was yesterday. The doctor said he was regressing."

You could see Andrew's form still from the rearview mirror, posture erect and eyes looking down, likely avoiding meeting anyone's through the reflection. And then Billy continued.

"Personally ... I think it was cause he liked the feeling of Smurf's hands between his legs."

That's when you tensed. You side-eyed Billy, not daring look to him directly, but still eyeing him with anger from your peripheral vision. You felt bile forming in your liver traveling all the way your esophagus and burning at you to burst, felt yourself start to fume at Billy's insistence in humiliating Andrew. Beneath you, your fingers graced at the knife Deran had given you before you'd departed from home, telling you he didn't want you carrying a firearm just yet, but insistent you keep at least one concealed weapon just in case.

You didn't feel anything as you considered your options, anger taking over while you looked to Andrew, taking note of the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. Craig laughing along didn't help matters.

It was when Andrew's embarrassed eyes found yours in the rearview mirror that you really felt like you were about to blow up. He looked away immediately, the car's path wavering slightly, a clear indication that what Billy was saying was getting to his head.

Billy nudged your shoulder with his, urging you to join in on the laughter. "I'm serious. I can't tell you how many times I was banging their mom and we'd feel like somebody was watching us. We'd look up and there'd be Pope. Little Pope just staring at us without even blink- Argh, fuck!"

You couldn't really explain what came over you as you did it, but before you could even consider it, you'd already pulled out the knife from it's hidden spot under the leg of your jeans, bringing it up swiftly and cutting a straight, vertical line down Billy's thigh, deep enough to cut his pants and draw blood out of it — Hell, deep enough it was likely to require stitches.

At that same moment, Andrew swerved the car, coming to an abrupt halt as you all held onto yourselves to not slam your heads against the car seats due to the rapid and sudden movement.

"What the fuck was that, you crazy bitch?" Billy hissed, hands coming to his thigh and pressing on the blood there.

You didn't respond, ripping off your seatbelt and stepping out of the car, your door slamming in the process. Andrew did the same, though instead of rounding the car as you had, he went straight to Billy's seat, pulling the door open and fisting at his shirt, dragging him out before slamming him against the side of the truck. You were standing beside him within seconds, knife still in hand.

"Woah woah, everybody calm down!" Craig said from his seat, peeking back to look at the commotion but not getting off the car.

"Talk to her like that again. I dare you." Andrew huffed, almost nose to nose with Billy.

"You control your bitch. Do you see what she did to me? What, am I not supposed to defend myself when your psycho bitch goes after me like- God, Fuck!"

A punch landed straight to Billy's abdomen, interrupting the spit-filled sermon he'd been delivering. He keeled over, but was immediately slammed back against the car by Andrew.

"Do it. Beat my ass, Billy." you dared him. "Deran will kill you. He'd run you over like roadkill before he let you touch a hair on my head." you looked to him with disdain. "That's if Andrew doesn't do it first."

"You cunt-"

"Yeah, I wouldn't say that if I were you." could be heard from Craig from his spot inside the car.

No more words were exchanged as Andrew's fingers tightened back up around the bunched fabric of Billy's collar, dragging him and pushing him with enough strength he tripped and fell on the sandy field of the desert. Quickly, he led you back to your seat, pushing Billy down once more when he tried to get up and proceeding to get back to the driver's seat, driving away as he ignored the expletives yelled out by Billy as he created distance between you.

When you arrived to the meeting spot, you found J and Deran being dropped off by some unknown woman, questioning her presence until being told to shut up by the latter and letting the two boys into the car.

"Where's Billy?" Deran asked as soon as he settled in beside you, with J to the other side of you.

"He was being an asshole so Pope threw him out." Craig explained.

"Are you kidding me?" Deran looked to you. "We can't do that, man."

You shrugged. "He called me a cunt. I'd say he got off easy."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, after you stabbed him." Craig chuckled.

Deran's eyebrows furrowed, "You what?"

"I didn't stab him, I cut him-"

"We have to go!"

"This is bullshit, we gotta go back for him. This is his job!"

You all spoke over each other, with Andrew interrupting in a low tone, "I told you the cops were onto us. Are you out of your mind?"

"Alright." J gave the final word. "It's fine, let's just go."

Deran sat back, clearly angry at the situation, eyes throwing daggers at the back of Andrew's head until you punched his leg, huffing at him.

It was uncharacteristic of you to act the way you had, and you knew that. But Billy was bad news. Not only was he bad news to Andrew, bringing back painful memories and unnecessarily going out of his way to put him down, but you also knew that on the long run, he'd be bad news to Deran too. He was just too blind to see that, with his mother now in jail and an unspoken want to get to know his father.

Getting back home, you made a stop at a storage unit, unbagging all the cargo from today, the near $1 million dollars the guys had scored on the job. The mood quickly lifted as the guys unloaded stack upon stack of cash from the bags.

"That's a good haul." Andrew praised, receiving a squeeze of his arm from you in silent congratulations.

"Hell yeah, that's a good haul."

"It's almost a million dollars!"

"It's almost 158 grand each." J calculated.

"No, it's 130 each. We're six, remember?" Andrew corrected, gesturing over to you.

You could see both J and Craig faltered at that, looking to each other with a hesitant look.

"Uhm, nah, it's 158 each. I'm not taking anything." you corrected, drawing all four pairs of eyes on you.

"What are you talking about? You helped, you deserve your share." Deran interjected.

You shook your head, eyeing the large stack of money, but not caring much for it otherwise.

"I only did this for Andrew. And, well, for you. I don't want any money."

They stayed silent for a second, looking to each other silently before J nodded, prompting the same response from Craig and Deran. Andrew remained pensive, a sort of frustrated look on his face.

"Listen, this will take a while to clean, so, how about we start with 9 grand cash each?" J suggested. "Here, at least take the 9 grand." he handed everyone a small stack, including you.

Taking it, you weighed it on your hand. It looked very small, comprised of 100 dollar bills, appearing to be less than what you'd expect that amount of cash to be.

You shook your head again, throwing it back onto the larger stack in the middle. "Give my 9k to Lena. I'm sure you guys must have some trust fund for her or something." you knew Andrew did, but you didn't want to be obvious in case the guys weren't aware. "Her parents are gone, you should put this aside for her."

Andrew cleared his throat, taking a quiet step closer to your side, hand silent as it reached yours, thumb running over the back of your palm. It was subtle, unnoticed by the guys as they each put away their money.

"She's right. She's family." Andrew reminded them.

They all looked uncomfortable by the implication, knowing this would create a pattern of cutting an extra share for Lena, but none of them said anything. You made a mental note to talk to Deran about it later.

-

After dropping you and Deran off at the bar, Andrew kissed you goodbye, heading back to the Cody house with the other boys. You didn't really like staying there, considering it enemy territory, still unwilling to be associated with Smurf in any way even during her absence. Andrew understood.

You hung around the bar for a while, until you spotted Deran walking to the back with Billy, who had somehow made it back to civilization after you'd left him stranded back at the desert.

As you walked into the kitchen of the bar, you heard their conversation, not caring to eavesdrop and instead just walking in.

"—a little piece of, you know, fatherly advice. You guys shouldn't do any more stuff with Pope, dude. He's- he's crazier than he's ever been, dude. He's gonna get you guys killed."

You rolled your eyes, making your steps louder so he'd hear you coming.

"How's the leg, Billy?"

He groaned to Deran when he saw you walk in.

"Or this psycho. Did she tell you what she did to me? This crazy bitch and her boyfriend?"

Deran sighed, frustrated, not really caring about the gash on Billy's thigh he'd spotted when he walked into the bar. There was some dry blood on it, but Deran could tell it was a superficial cut, nothing serious.

"Don't talk about her like that, man. From what I'm hearing you deserved it." it was his subtle way of defending you against his dad. He didn't like to take sides, on anything really, but he made sure you knew he wasn't against what you'd done.

"Also." he turned to you. "Smurf's back from jail. I'd steer clear of the house for a while. She'll lose her shit when she finds out Pope's dating someone."

Your eyes widened. The name alone making you groan internally, already looking into the future and all the dumb shit that was about to unfold due to her return. You'd never met her, and you'd never wanted to. Being friends with Deran didn't give you any reason to get to know her, seeing as they all had friends they kept out of her reach. Even being close to him hadn't made your paths cross.

But you were now best friends with her youngest while dating her eldest. There was now a ticking time bomb until you were forced to be in her vicinity.

Things only got worse for Andrew upon Smurf's return. He pulled away from you once the DSFC dropped in on you a day after your return from the job, deciding it was in Lena's best interest if she were placed with a foster family. This on its own destroyed a fundamental part of what your lives had been for the past six months. It made Andrew spiral, with him out of the house at most times, arriving home after you were in bed and only mumbling something about how he'd been looking for Lena all day when he'd return.

You gave it a week before giving up on giving him space. You were worried about him, about Lena. And you really seemed like the only person who shared these concerns. From your understanding, not even Smurf was up to date (nor interested) with what was happening to Andrew.

And so you went to look for him at Smurf's.

Deran had begged you not to, saying that as soon as you met Smurf, your relationship with Andrew would never know peace again. He'd made sure Smurf never knew of Adrian, never allowed her close enough to poison the relationship.

When you got there, having the door opened to you by Frankie, you walked into the pool area. There was some commotion.

There was Andrew right on top of Billy, beating him to a pulp. You saw Andrew shove Billy's head into the pool water, saw Billy pull out a blade and saw Andrew smack it right out of his hand. Everyone gathered to watch, silent and in shock.

J spotted you, and so did Frankie and Craig, but you could only pay attention to Smurf, who had a smile on her lips as she watched her son beat her ex boyfriend to near death.

And just when Andrew was about to land a punch straight at Billy's nose, you spoke up, uttering his name and immediately halting his actions.

"Andrew."

Everyone looked to you then, even Smurf, whose smile dropped and eyes narrowed in your direction.

Andrew got up, landing one last kick at Billy before walking your way only to be received by your open arms.

"Go on boys. Get the groceries from the car." Smurf broke the silence, eyes still on you as you joined the guys in unloading the trunk.

➽──────────────────❥

Smurf hadn't quite acknowledged you just yet, but things were slowly falling right back into place for her.

She'd taken Andrew for a drive, making a few calls and finding out where Lena's foster home was, getting Andrew right back under her thumb with just that bit of information. The same had happened with Deran, whose father had robbed him of his safe at the bar, causing a distressed Deran to come back home for the time being.

You joined Deran and Andrew, staying at their house, steering clear of Smurf under their request, but still having to deal with the looks of annoyance she'd throw your way. She didn't bother much with the facade of niceties she usually pulled, having figured you out as Andrew's girlfriend from the moment your call of his name had been enough to get him to calm down — a skill only ever before being possessed by Julia and Smurf.

"How long you staying here for, sweetie?" she'd asked one day, flipping a pancake.

"For as long as Andrew's here, if that's okay with you." you decided to be civil despite how much you already hated her from mere word of mouth.

"Any of Andrew's friends are our friends." she'd said with a saccharine tone that made you sick.

The reality was that she had bigger fish to fry at that moment. You were a temporary problem she'd be dealing with after she dealt with Lucy and her crew.

She'd been pushing at her sons and grandson to work on Lucy and her guys, trying to convince them that they'd killed Baz and that they'd stolen the money Baz had stolen from her. Somehow she'd been able to make them believe that she'd kept that money as insurance for them, and that Baz had stolen it and hidden it with plans to run away with Lucy to Mexico. You knew it was a partial truth, but were still grateful the guys were at least apprehensive of her words, that they wouldn't fall blind victims to her lies.

But even then, Smurf was able to get them involved in her schemes without much effort.

She'd hired Pete's guys to track down Lucy's brother, Marcos, kidnapping him and using him as leverage to get her to give back the 1.4 million dollars she'd stolen in exchange for his safety.

And just like that, they'd agreed on a time and place to meet. The guys were reluctant, equipping themselves with bulletproof vests and hidden weapons just in case. The job was a simple yet deadly one, which led to your insistence in going.

"The hell you are." Andrew scoffed when you'd suggested it.

"Andrew, I'm not waiting at home to get a call that my boyfriend got killed in a shoot out. I'm going."

You were in the living room of the house while all the guys packed up the truck with weapons. You'd pulled Andrew aside, telling him of your demands.

"Are you crazy? I don't even wanna go. I'm not putting you in harm's way. These guys are dangerous." he huffed, angry at the mere suggestion.

"I'll wait in the car, outside, a block away, I don't care. I'm going. I already spoke about it with Deran."

That was coincidentally when the rest of his family made it back into the living room, eyeing you curiously at your defiant stance. Smurf had an amused look in her eyes.

"What's up?" asked Deran, patting your shoulder absentmindedly as he passed by you on his way to the coffee table.

"The hell do you think you're doing telling her she can come?" Andrew growled at Deran.

Deran shrugged. "She can just wait in the car. We need someone manning the truck in case we need to run fast anyway."

"He's right, baby. Let her come. She wants to help, isn't that right?" Smurf interrupted, making Andrew narrow his eyes at her.

"Mind your own business, Smurf."

"Guys, this is just wasting time. Let's just go. She'll drive the getaway car if things get to that, okay? She did fine with the truck for Billy's job, it's fine." J surprisingly interjected.

You said nothing more, at least glad you could be there for Andrew, already making a promise with yourself that you'd be more present in his life, no matter how dangerous the things he got up to were.

Andrew continued to sulk, complaining and angry everyone would go against him like this, but in the end he had to force a nod, agree and move on.

-

Once there, Craig parked the truck inside the warehouse in which you'd all agreed to meet. You moved onto the driver's seat when they all got off, getting one last kiss from Andrew as he walked away from the car.

"If shit goes south, you just drive, okay? Leave me behind if you have to."

You shook your head. "Anything that happens to you happens to me."

He sighed, but understood you wouldn't change your mind and kissed your lips, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before joining his family as they waited for Lucy's men to arrive.

From your spot in the car, you couldn't really see much. They were all behind you, standing at a few feet away from Lucy and her men. You could, however, make out some of the words they exchanged. Your hands remained on the wheel, ready to go as soon as they got back into the car. It was unlikely you'd have to actually drive them away, as they were supposed to be able to collect their money and load it in the trunk calmly, but Deran and Craig had insisted you be prepared just in case.

They exchanged Marcos for the suitcases full of expensive jewelry, seemingly not having the entirety of the money owed to Smurf. You could see Andrew and Craig load them up into the trunk of the car as you waited for them to be done, but then there was a voice that suddenly broke out.

"You think this shit is over?" Marcos growled when one of their men took off his mouth gag. "I'm gonna blast all you punk asses tomorrow, watch!"

"Shut up, Marco!" Lucy yelled.

"You sicko bitch. You're done. All of you!"

Andrew was on his way to deliver the last bag into the trunk when Marco suddenly yelled again, pulling a gun out of the man's belt and shooting in Andrew's direction, causing him to fall.

You had no time to react before everyone started shooting, ducking while in the car as they began shooting at it, shooting at Smurf and J who'd jumped behind it to hide.

Craig and Deran pulled out guns, hiding behind anything they could find and shooting in Marcos' and Lucy's directions. Glass shattered from their bullets hitting the car, making you lay sideways across the front seats of the car to avoid getting hit.

Before anyone could process anything, Lucy's guys had already dragged Marcos, who'd been shot on the stomach by Craig after he'd shot Andrew, into their car. They drove away as Deran and Craig continued to shoot after them, and only when the guns seized were you able to get out of the driver's seat, rushing as you'd believed to have seen Andrew become collateral damage.

They all went to check in on each other, asking if everyone was okay, if anyone'd gotten hurt. Meanwhile, you looked around frantically, not even taking note of the various shards of glass that had cut your arms, some even your face. Your chest heaved as you began to hyperventilate, unable to spot Andrew anywhere.

"Where's Andrew?" you cried out, calling everyone's attention.

Deran knelt down, defeated while everyone else's eyes widened, gazes scouting the area but not spotting him anywhere.

"Where- where is he?" you asked again, hand clutching at your chest.

Deran went to you, holding onto you when he realized how heavily you were breathing, trying but failing at soothing you.

➽──────────────────❥

You all made it back home soon after that.

The driving had been left to Craig, as you were in no position to do so at the moment. Deran's passenger seat had been given to Smurf as he sat in the back with you, holding you while you muffled your cries for Andrew.

It had been hard for Deran to convince you to go back home. You'd been adamant, nearly hysterical in you screams to go get him back, to at least try and tail the car that had taken him. But they all saw reason better than you did at that moment. They'd done this before, knew that it was not only impossible to follow them, but also a waste of time. They knew that now you'd just have to wait.

You made it back to the Cody house, everyone quiet with remorse at what had happened. Some surely believing about the chance that Andrew might've been dead by now, having been shot and not treated, or perhaps that he'd been taken and tortured as revenge for Marcos.

They all argued with each other as soon as they sat in the living room. Craig immediately lost his cool, screaming about how they needed to go after him, that they needed to head to Mexico, to act now and get him back before they could begin hacking away at his limbs. Deran seemed more defeated, sitting you next to him as you practically dissociated, head lowered and tears still rolling down your cheeks. You said nothing while they yelled at each other, sat there completely defeated as anger brewed inside you when Craig brought up the reason they were in that situation in the first place.

Smurf.

"Stop. We're gonna get him back, but we need to keep our heads and think it through." she said to Craig.

You scoffed.

"Oh, think it through? Is that what you did when you went behind our backs and took Marco in the first place?" Craig argued back.

"I did that for the family and you know it."

"Oh, yeah, I bet you did." Craig was fuming, something you completely understood.

"Bullshit. This was about you." you interjected, looking to her with the most hatred your eyes could muster. She looked back in a similar fashion.

"You did this shit for you." Deran added, huffing.

"If we had let Lucy steal from us, we would be finished!"

"Finished?" you sneered back. "None of them wanted to do this in the first place! Not Craig, not Deran, not Andrew!"

"You watch your mouth." she warned.

"No, she's right, Smurf." Deran growled, getting up and walking towards her seat. "If Pope is dead. this is on you. This is on you!"

They continued yelling at each other, with Craig accusing J of knowing Lucy's guys while Smurf screamed at them to calm down. Deran kept quiet, but you could still see the anger in him. Eventually you all dispersed around the house, attempting to catch your cools in order to formulate a plan to get Andrew back.

It took hours until Smurf walked into the living room, finding you all sitting around, still fucked up by all that'd happened within the last few hours.

"I'm going to meet Lucy now. Alone." she spoke up. She looked completely destroyed, a look you were sure was brand new for her sons to see.

"Is Pope alive?" Deran asked.

"I don't know."

"I'm coming with you." Craig interjected, only to get shut down by Smurf.

"That's bullshit-"

"You can't go alone, Smurf. It's too dangerous." J reasoned.

But it all ended the same. No rebuttals from any of you could change her mind about going alone. And she was right to do so. There was no way Lucy or her men would ever let a third party interfere, so you all reluctantly agreed. Despite your heart beating right out of your chest, you stayed down, quietly sitting next to Deran as you watched Smurf leave.

It took hours for them to get back. You sat there for hours, rejecting every offer for a drink to ease your nerves coming from Craig and matching every pensive look J had adorning his face. The hours passed as you sat there, immovable, slowly trying to make peace with the fact that maybe Andrew would never come back, that the last words you'd spoken had been a lie.

'Anything that happens to you happens to me.'

Yet you'd remained inside the car, hidden, not even seeing when or where he'd gotten shot, having no idea he'd been taken until after the fact. You hated yourself for it. It was unrealistic to think you could've made any difference, but knowing that Andrew had been taken without a single person putting up a fight to prevent it made you sick to your stomach.

You ran to the bathroom to throw up, with Deran running after you and patting your back to offer you some comfort at what he knew was the worst moment of your life.

Once the sun had set, you finally heard a car pull up in the driveway. You'd stayed stationary in the living room all day, waiting and refusing to go to sleep when the guys had insisted, telling you they'd go get you when they came back. If you missed the moment he came back, you'd only beat yourself up about it even more than you'd already been doing. You couldn't even muster it within yourself to consider the possibility of Smurf returning alone.

The three of you stood by the entrance as the car parked, unable to make out if there was someone on the passenger's seat due to the headlights blaring in front of you.

But then the passenger door opened, and out came your Andrew.

His two brothers stood there as they watched him walk over, but you couldn't hold yourself back from running to him, arms wrapping around the back of his neck and bringing his head down to your shoulder, that space in the crook of your neck he always loved to nuzzle when you held him. His arms wrapped around you within seconds, engulfing you in his large frame while he breathed you in deeply.

"Andrew ..." you cried.

"It's okay. I'm okay, I'm sorry."

You shook your head, fingers running through his hair to soothe him.

"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault, Andrew. Just ... Fuck, just stay like this for a minute."

The guys let you have your moment, with Smurf walking past the two of you hugging and stepping into the house without a word. If she looked angry, you couldn't tell, because your mind was entirely occupied by Andrew as you held him.

When you finally let go, the guys had their turns giving him a hug, eyes teary as they expressed their gratitude for his return, their sorrows for letting him get taken.

"Come on, help me pack some stuff. We're not staying here tonight." Andrew said after you'd made it to his room.

"No? Where are we-"

"Deran's. I already told him. I don't want you staying here with Smurf, it's not safe anymore."

You didn't question him. He was already decided, not even giving himself a minute of rest before he shoved a few things in a duffel bag and grabbed your hand, letting you kiss Deran goodbye and hug Craig and J before leaving. The brothers found your affection strange, but returned it nonetheless.

The drive was a short one, making it to Deran's bar and upstairs to the small apartment within less than fifteen minutes. It was silent, but not tense. Andrew held onto your hand the entire drive, bringing it up for kiss its back at a stop sign when he noticed some tears still in your eyes.

By the time you arrived, you were both exhausted, letting the day get the best of you and practically dragging your feet upstairs. The silence did not help matters, making him feel unnerved about everything when you'd entered the apartment and simply stood in the middle of it while looking down at your hands.

"Andrew ..." you called his attention, sniffling.

He took a few steps towards you, letting the duffel bag fall off his shoulder in the process. He spoke first.

"If this ... If this is too much for you, I understand." he began, exhaling, "You shouldn't have to put up with this- this bullshit. You shouldn't be putting yourself in dangerous situations, waiting for me to get back, or, fuck, joining us when shit goes south."

You shook your head as he spoke, not even entertaining the motion of what he was implying.

"Stop- stop saying that. I don't care, Andrew. No matter what happens, I don't care. I'm staying."

He sighed, looking down and finding your hand reaching for his. He couldn't deny you, not even as he tried to convince you to break up with him, to run and not look back.

"You can't say that. You cant ... You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not worth it. I can't let you do it."

"Hey." your hands lifted, dropping his and cupping his cheeks instead. "I love you. Anything I have to do to be with you is worth it. Do you understand?"

Your voice was stern, a tone Andrew had never heard from you. In other circumstances he'd feel scolded, duck his tail between his legs and avoid your eyes. But despite your tone, despite how serious and furious you sounded, your eyes were still full of compassion for him.

Without a response, he nodded, letting you pull him down for a kiss and wrapping his limp arms around your waist, holding you to him as he'd done when he first arrived back at the house. The kiss ended after a bit, but your embrace continued for a while longer. Andrew felt you shudder in his arms, frowning at the realization that he'd made you cry again.

Andrew led you to the shower, undressing you and himself, holding you under the water for a few minutes before even bothering to move to get yourselves clean. But your nails dug into the skin of his forearms, and he just couldn't bring himself to pull away. He laid kisses on the wet top of your head, chin eventually finding its home on your shoulder and lips turning every so often to kiss your skin.

When he went to grab some shampoo, your hand reached out to his wrist, stopping him before he could continue, and looking into his eyes with a look that made his heart break. It was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen you, a girl he'd always known for her outspoken confidence, her lack of trouble when holding his gaze in a way not many others were able to.

"Please ..." you pleaded. "I want- I want to feel you. Please, Andrew? I need to ... I need to know you're here."

Your voice destroyed him inside out. It was so meek and broken, lacking any confidence — as if you were scared he wasn't real, that he'd get taken away again if you made your needs known. It was either that or a belief that he'd ever reject you, that he'd ever be offered a way in which to take care of you and decline it.

"Okay." he nodded, leaning down and kissing your lips again.

You cried against his lips, needy hands reaching to his hair and pulling him closer. His own lips opened, seeking you out, taking control and letting himself have you.

It was easy to let go while he had you in his arms. The short time he'd been away, you'd been the only thing on his mind, the one regret he had leaving behind. And he kissed you like so, like he couldn't breathe without you, like he needed to prove just how much he regretted ever being taken away from you. Because this was the only place in which he belonged. He'd come to learn that that feeling was mutual, and he couldn't handle the thought of taking this away from you, of having it be taken away from him.

One of his hands slid down your body, already familiar with the song and dance to get you into position, get your leg lifted, wrapped around his waist so he could slide inside you, neither of you caring that it was too soon or that you needed more prep.

Your shared groans of relief landed in each other's lips, your noises of pleasure making it almost impossible to kiss, but still fighting the battle to try.

Andrew almost lost his balance at the pleasure of being sheathed inside you, one palm slamming against the glass door behind you to recover his balance. He pounded into you, not aggressively, but with every pent up feeling inside him. He let himself loose, liberally groaning and whining your name in between expletives, declaring himself to you.

"Please. Please don't leave." he cried. "I need you here."

It only made you cry louder, nodding your head aggressively and attempting a few syllables in between moans but failing. All you could do in between the crying and the noises of bliss were blabbers.

"Can't fucking do this shit without you. D- don't make me stop."

Your ankle dug harder into his back, pushing him even deeper inside you in a silent plea for him to never stop.

"Don't, oh fuck, please don't stop." you sighed out, head falling back.

Licking at the exposed skin there, he grunted into your neck, sucking on an old hickey he'd left there earlier in the week. He couldn't let it fade. Needed it to be there as a reminder for the two of you.

A chorus of his name hit his ear when you came, pulling him into heaven right with you. But even as you finished, now filled with his essence, he stayed inside you for a while. He kissed and loved on you, something you usually did to him instead. He wasn't sure what'd changed when he'd been abducted, but he just couldn't help himself. It grounded him.

The shower was slow, the warm water somehow lasting all throughout the near two hours you were in there taking care of each other.

He washed you while you washed him, hands soft and slow in their movements. Not many words were exchanged, but those that snuck in between the silence were vows of affection that couldn't help but leave your lips.

When the two of you finally made it to bed, Andrew laid back, positioning himself the same way he always did to engulf you in his arms. But you stopped him, finger gesturing at him to turn around.

"I wanna hold you tonight. I need to make sure you're still here."

And he couldn't disobey that request.

It felt better than he'd ever imagined.

He'd never been held like this by anyone who wasn't Smurf or Julia.

His back was too wide for you to lay down while nuzzling into the crook of his neck like he did to you, so you opted to kiss at his back, mumbling something about wanting to give him a kiss for every freckle adorning it.

"It was her." Andrew whispered after a while of being doted on by you.

"Who?"

"Smurf." he clarified. "The person who killed Baz."

"Did Lucy tell you that?"

You believed him. You just wanted to give him space to keep talking, get it all out of his chest.

"Yeah. A few weeks ago, when she called me down to Mexico. Said Smurf hired some girl to kill him."

"I'm sorry, Andrew."

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. But you could tell it was. You could tell that if you prodded too much, he'd break.

"I think I need to take care of her." he said after some silence.

"What do you mean?"

He gave you a pensive hum before responding. "I can't tell you. I don't wanna implicate you."

You nodded to yourself, kissing his back one last time in affirmation.

"Okay."

The two of you fell asleep quickly after that. And when you woke up, you chose to spend the next few days holed up in Deran's apartment. It was a way for Andrew to heal from everything he'd been through the past few days, The only worry on his mind was Lena, but you assured him that she was probably fine with her foster family, that you'd help him with whatever he needed after he took rest for a couple of days.

➽──────────────────❥

Things continued to spiral.

Andrew was happy with his alone time with you, away from Smurf and all her pretenses for care for her family.

But when he went back home to discuss Lena with her, he'd found some unprecedented news.

Lena was coming home, but she was coming home to Smurf, with her becoming her primary guardian due to Andrew's record.

She'd used this to rope Andrew into moving back home with her, which he reluctantly accepted after your reassurance that you'd join him if he asked you to — which, despite his shame, he did.

Immediately upon Lena's arrival back home, it was obvious to you and Andrew she did not want to be there. She'd had a taste of a good foster family, one with a daughter her age, looking to adopt a girl just like Lena, and she'd finally found some of the stability that'd been robbed from her when her mother died.

It took everything in Andrew to make this decision, but he ultimately gave in, deciding he'd do everything he could to get Lena back into her foster house, even if it meant dealing with Smurf.

You accompanied him to the foster house, sat back while he talked to Lena as they sat on the swings, apologetic as he shared his struggles when he was her age. He told her about how he was always angry, how kids would push him around, that he'd defend himself and the teachers would get mad, never once punishing the other kids like they did him. He told her about how they all thought he was terrible, even Smurf. He admitted to how awful he thought himself to be, but at least he had someone who was nice to him — his sister, with Baz being the second, and Cath the third. He told her how he promised them he'd take care of her. He cried, knowing this was the final goodbye and shared one last hug with her before getting up and walking back to you.

Your heart broke when you heard him share the intimate details of his childhood with Lena. It made bile fill your stomach, made you shut your eyes close to prevent the tears from trailing down. And when the two of you walked out of the house, you held him, letting him cry in your arms at the sacrifice he'd made.

Back home, Andrew made a deal with Smurf.

He'd give Lena away to her foster parents and keep Smurf's secret about what she'd done to Baz. She argued back, claiming he was in his head, that everyone was worried about his behavior and that she needed him to stay home with him where she could take care of him.

With hesitance, he agreed, knowing that if he didn't, Smurf would go after Lena and the cycle would repeat. He couldn't let that happen to Lena.

"What about Lena?" he'd asked.

"I'll forget she ever existed."

"And ... and what about her?" he asked, referring to you.

Smurf smiled at him. "She's not staying anywhere near my house." she got up, patting his arm lovingly. "Now, you pull yourself together and come join the party."

-

Andrew spent the next three weeks in almost complete isolation in Smurf's home.

It was never explicitly stated, but it was heavily implied that Andrew was not to leave the house, that he was not to step out of line, or else Lena would pay the consequences.

Andrew hadn't seen you in those three weeks. He'd heard from you through Deran, living in turmoil at the thought of being away from you for so long. He hoped you understood, tried to believe you when you said you did, but he was still terrified that you'd one day have enough and run off.

Within those three weeks, Andrew had once opened the door to some woman, a hooker Smurf had sent for him. She'd told him he seemed stressed lately, that he needed something to take the edge off. This only angered him further, making him panic at the thought of this getting back to you.

After sending the woman away, Andrew couldn't help himself, getting in his car and rushing to Deran's bar, no shirt or shoes on due to his rush.

When he finally arrived there, he knocked on your door, tears welling in his eyes and lips quivering. You opened the door within a few seconds, taking him in and immediately rushing to him and cradling him in your arms. The two of you crumbled to the floor as he cried. His hands gripped you harshly, terrified of letting you go and having you disappear forever.

"I'm here, Andrew. I'm here." you comforted him.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I miss you so much. I miss Lena. I miss- I can't do this."

And you cried with him, telling him you missed him too, that you'd be waiting for him until things with Smurf calmed down and enough time passed to make it harder for her to take Lena away from her foster parents. You told him that as soon as she was officially adopted, you'd drag him out of that house yourself, keep him all to yourself and never let him go.

➽──────────────────❥

prev, next

series masterlist

You sat in a stairwell with your brother in the East wing of your family’s estate. The steps between you meant his eyes could catch the comings and goings of any of the upper floor levels and your ears with the lower levels, despite how quiet this wing was. A hiding spot for secret conversations that you two could always meet at since being children. Whether to cry over your mother’s death or childish schemes for more sweets. 

You sat with your legs criss crossed as you thought. You didn’t know how to tell him what was breaking your heart. You’re sure that he had a feeling from the way you were avoiding his eyes and fidgeting with your fingers, hyperfixated on the ringless one that would taunt you. 

“Mike.” You rubbed your temple as if applying enough pressure might relieve the ache and fix everything. Your brother nodded, having immediately known this was to do with your partner, now ex. “We were meant to go away next week and he was making a big deal of it and then…There was a ring in the dresser.” You say sadly as you look down at your hands, nervously twisting and squeezing your own fingers to try and distract from the pain thrumming in your chest cavity. 

That same finger was still teasing you as your composure was slipping with each quickening breath. You both knew what the weight of a marriage meant in your world, how easily a fairytale can become a satanic slasher. A part of you had hoped you could dance around ever having to be in a position where this would become your reality. Ignorance was bliss. Any spouse could easily land up as the prey of a fatal hunt, it didn’t happen to everyone but it was a risk you could not take. You could not put another soul in this position, especially one you were in love with. 

“I can’t just say ‘hey! I can’t marry you because actually, my family’s wealth and empire is part of this Satanic cult and if we get married, we might have to hunt you!’” Hot tears started to prickle your waterline and burn your cheeks. His face fell as he watched you, he looked up at the stairs and then down back at you. “I pretended I hadn’t seen it and broke up with him on Tuesday. It was devastating, his face… He knew I was lying, that there was something.” You let the tears fall and don’t bother hiding them from the one other person in your life who understands this mindfuck of a world. 

“I’m so sorry…” Your brother says your name gently as he watches you with a thoughtful but kind gaze. “It’s fucked.”

“I know and I’m only the spare.” You sigh and rub your face, your breathing is evening out a little more and you try to inject some humour into this shitshow of a world. 

“Yeah, well unfortunately, I don’t think you’d like to trade.” Your brother replied as he looked down, his fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt. A habit he kept hidden except for on his lonesome or when with his sister. He was a fidgeter, a habit that the father you shared would always pointedly sigh over. Despite the tease that the words should hold, his words were earnest. 

He was the heir and you were the spare. Those descriptions were accurate and more beneficial for your father anyway, since it would be assumed that you’d potentially “marry out”. But it meant there was a different kind of pressure on both of you, another thing that you were expected to carry with little say in the matter. 

You paused, rubbing your temples and trying to apply pressure. “No, you’re right.  I’d rather just have a whole new solution instead." 

“There is one.” Your brother said with a sigh, rubbing his face. He hated himself for the words that were about to leave his mouth. “If you marry into another family in the Council, there’s no hunt. No hunt for either of you.” 

As those words settle into your ears, you still as it feels like the very air in your lungs right then and there disappears.

~ One Year Later ~

The Danforth estate was as sprawling as you’d expect for a name that had centuries of wealth and luck carrying it through generations. There was a meeting of the Council, your father would be present as your family’s representative, you and your brother’s presence there was mainly just to be a glorified guest in the country air and perfectly polished rooms. You’d been to this estate multiple times throughout your life, not enough to know it like the back of your hand but well enough to remember where at least a few of the rooms were. 

Mainly the quiet ones. And that was all you were in the mood for. As soon as you’d be graced with the chance to escape for a few moments. You hated the Wilkinsons, they had a sliminess that made your skin crawl and wore putrid colognes that were an abrasive assault to your senses. There was no way in hell you were dealing with them and the rest of the energy that clung to these gatherings. You’d find your way into one eventually, once the bare minimum pleasantries were over. 

As you stepped out of the car, you looked from your brother to the Danforths that were standing at the bottom of the steps waiting for all of the families to arrive. Chester wasn’t there, it was just his twins in their sunglasses and fake smiles. The look on Titus’s face became less bored as he looked at you, you stood next to your brother, a slight step behind your father. Your presence surprised both the twins but Titus almost smiled to himself at seeing you. 

It had become a very not so subtle habit of yours to avoid any social interactions in the Le Bail organisation, filling your time with the more legal and conventional side of your family’s empire and an interest in music. One that had been nursed since you were young, and you would make a hobby of conveniently being away at the right time or slipping out of rooms. Titus viewed you as a spectre, a woman you could get a quick glimpse of in the corner of your eyes, appearing from nowhere in the least expected moments and then disappearing, floating out. An absence that weighed on you. 

He couldn’t help but wonder why you were here, you looked decadent and his boredom was disappearing with each millisecond. He didn’t speak as Ursula and your father politely greeted each other, his gaze was thankfully camouflaged by his sunglasses as he watched you. 

Ursula cleared her throat, speaking your name with her perfectly composed, chirpy smile that lacked any genuineness. “How nice to see you, it’s been awhile. Still playing with knives?” 

Her tone came across as friendly enough. Referencing the fact that in the few hunts that you’d joined, being more than competent, a thought you never wanted to dwell on, you carried throwing knives. Small blades were always your weapons of choice and where most of the weapons training of your education had been devoted. The lack of space they took up spoke to Ursula as a representation of your lack of interest in the hunts and the duties given to those blessed in your circles. 

You blinked, tilting your head to look at her with a tired but soft smile. It was all childish. “Why? Do you need to borrow one?” You adjusted your dress and pulled out a small sheathed throwing knife, holding it flat out in your hand as you offered it to her. Ursula was stunned at your reaction, she awkwardly took the knife as she watched you smooth your dress for a second and then link your arm with your brother’s and walk off, up the stairs to the estate. “They’re so fucking odd.” Ursula mutters under her breath as your family walks off into the doors, she places the knife in one of the many carefully concealed pockets of her overpriced blazer. But behind his tinted lenses, Titus’s eye softened as his mouth quickly turned up into a smug smirk at the boldest display he’d ever seen from you. A charmed and thoroughly pleased chuckle left his lips as he glanced at you over his shoulder for a second before smirking at his sister, struggling to piece her composure back together. 

Not only a handsome brute, Titus Danforth was more observant than he was often given credit for. When the Danforth twins were taking their first steps, they were also being primed to become skilled hunters, observation was a key and necessary skill for that. Titus had a reputation but he was overlooked, his sister seen as the calmer, less impulsive half of the package that they were and the fact that the Council’s arrogance was too loud to really appreciate observation. 

The Council was made up of several, loud families. Arrogance was key to having a seat at the fucked up table. It was part of why it was always so interesting seeing your family whenever there were gatherings. Like Chester, your father was a widower with two children, you weren’t a twin like he was though. Your brother was the more vocal one of you two, but you both were reserved. He’d felt a hum of amusement and curiosity when you’d all been younger and he’d seen the way your brother and you shared a look and a whisper for nobody else’s ears, you had a secret language just like him and Ursula. But you two were still different, he’d never seen you raise a hand to your brother like Ursula had to him and you didn’t tear each other down with words like his and Ursula’s competitive rapport, at least not publicly. 

When there were cocktails being served in the evening before dinner, you’d stood off against a bookshelf silently, you and your brother a quiet observant pair like usual. He’d noticed something different though, your brother was standing with more tension winding his shoulders and jaw up more than usual. His own eyes locked in on those standing in the room. He didn’t bother hiding the way his eyes rolled at the Wilkinsons and exchanging a glance with you, your eyes looked wider than usual as you stood in the room. The choice of your dress made sense, the long black dress allowed you to slink in the shadows easier, but no matter what you wore, his eyes would find you in any silent room or pit of darkness. It was impressive that someone with such an adverse reaction to attention always captured him. 

Titus watched your brother have a short conversation with Viran, one that you silently watched, your face twisted slightly to look like you might be biting the inside of your cheek as you watched. Your brother didn’t humour a conversation with the younger Rajan brother, Titus also found him annoying but he felt that way about most people. You only gave a polite nod and a small smile that never met your pretty eyes. 

The only person your brother seemed less tense with was Daniel Le Domas, a man that Titus had no respect for, Titus thought that little of Daniel that he didn’t even despise him. His stomach twisted slightly as he watched you lean forward slightly and you whispered something to your brother and Daniel, your brother smiled wistfully and Daniel sipped from his glass that was never empty. He didn’t like the sight of you talking to Daniel, you seemed more comfortable around him than anyone else in the room that wasn’t your brother. Daniel was married, clearly unhappily, he made no efforts to hide that but Titus was confident that you weren’t the type to try a married man. He’d bet on it, it was his house and the house always wins. 

Your brother was doing the bulk of the conversating, but they were all short conversations anyway. He had less patience than he usually did. Daniel Le Domas was disenchanted by all that had happened and was married, it was easier for you both to be around him. He wasn’t a candidate you’d have to judge and worry about for marriage. It was one of the unmarried men in this room that was the source of your curse and solution. You weren’t pleased with the choices and your brother was a fisherman desperately looking for the right catch. 

You stood by your brother, carefully holding a glass that your lips had barely touched. “Alex?” You whispered after Daniel had stepped away for a bathroom break. Your mind was working quickly on any of the potential options. 

Your brother quickly shook his head. “No.” 

“He’s not really MIA,” you offer. Alex had left his family, taken a road rarely travelled by those with blood on their hands. You weren’t attracted to him but he’d always seemed nice enough and the fact he’d gone no contact with his family seemed like a green flag in this situation. Especially when you stood in the same room as his family, you couldn't imagine a soul on Earth enjoying the company of Helene Le Domas. 

“No. He’s spineless, not kind. There’s a difference. You can’t trust someone like that.” You sighed and nodded at that, biting your lip. The pool of options for a marriage that didn’t ruin someone’s life was getting far too slim. 

Something that you and your brother were in agreement over was that the Wilkinsons weren’t worth touching with a ten-metre long pole. The Le Domas family was officially ruled out, the only eligible bachelors left were Viraj Rajan and Titus Danforth. While whatever arrangement might happen would be a marriage of convenience, you tilted your head and pondered the thought, you struggled to see yourself married to either of them, even if it was a sham. 

There was the possibility of marriage to another family associated with the organisation, but outside of the Council their status was significantly lower and would put yourself in a position to be used as a convenient ladder for some soulless sucker. Your brother had already laid out that a marriage was best with someone of a more equal footing, anyone else with a noticeable imbalance was too big of a risk and one you couldn’t trust. 

“Viraj is intense and Madhu is unbearable, I couldn’t have that as a brother-in-law.” You whisper and your brother’s eyes travel around the room again. 

“And the Danforths… In this situation, marrying Titus would either be the best or worst thing, no inbetween.” Your brother replied, he watched you for a moment as your forehead furrowed. 

“I’m not Danforth material.” You answered honestly and he sipped his drink, a slight hum of agreement coming out as you both thought of the intense Danforths. 

The Danforth twins had been summoned to their father’s study; it wasn’t a rare occurrence because of their status. But despite the smug smirks both Ursula and Titus were wearing, neither were clued in on what exactly it was that their father wanted to discuss this afternoon. Probably something to do with the next upcoming Council meeting, or to go over their plans for their next political deal. 

Chester looked at his children carefully, he’d done everything he could to raise them to the highest of possibly achievable standards, he knew his children were better than the other families but he still saw a mass of flaws when he looked at them both. 

“There’s still no heir, from either of you.” Chester spoke matter of factly, his calm, all knowing voice was starting to become a bit airier with age. 

Ursula’s eyes widened slowly as she looked from her father to her brother and back. This was a conversation that always weighed heavily on the back of her mind, occasionally being ripped to the front and suffocating her in a way that none of the men in her family could understand. She almost wanted to flee whenever this happened, but she kept her calm composure, allowing herself a single blink to blink it away before the stone front was covering her. 

The silent tells of Ursula’s discomfort and guilt were clear as day to Titus as he glanced at her, seeing her deer in headlights eyes before she could smother it away. This was something Titus knew would become a greater focus for the remainder of Chester’s life, a pressure to plague him for years. His eyes glanced at his sister’s again, the stone composure didn’t hide all from him, he knew this was the one thing she would abdicate without argument and it was to be demanded of him. 

“Yes, we’re aware, father.” Titus said quietly as he watched him, he held his hands together calmly, not betraying a single emotion as he looked at the man that he’d idolised his whole life but had also a quiet resentment festering for the manipulation that had moulded him from the start to the man he now was. 

Chester looked at Titus and frowned. “It’s taken generations for this power, the High seat is an intergenerational effort, it takes so much to build but the smallest of missteps to crumble. A single generation - or lack of - will ruin it all. That is something we cannot accept, I won’t be let down.” 

“The High Seat won’t leave the family.” Ursula says as she steps closer. Titus frowns, it’s so Ursula to speak as if she is the one carrying the burden, finding the solution when she’s volunteering him up for the work she doesn’t want to do, the burden she quite literally will not carry. 

Titus clenches his jaw as he watches his family silently. Does Ursula - controlling Ursula - know just how much power would be handed to Titus simply for this? And of course he’d have to do this the right way. He’d have to marry to satisfy his father’s need for the pristine reputation and Mr Le Bail’s requirements. He’s sure that his father already has a list typed up of candidates, his father had tried to raise marriage prospects with him in the past but Titus had done well for shrugging this off for awhile, he was bored easily and the faces he’d met on his father’s lists were never interesting to him. 

“I’ll find someone.” Titus said as he watched his father, emphasising that he wanted this to be his choice. Not his father’s and certainly not Ursula’s. Maybe he’d humour their thoughts for a moment before shooting them down with a laugh. But if he was to have a wife he wanted one that was at least somewhat interesting. 

It was muscle memory that led to you walking to a study that you remembered having entered a few times over the years. If this was another’s home, you like to think you wouldn’t be so bold, but the Danforth estate was so large and had countless studies, if it was even noticed in the first place, nobody would mind in the grand scheme of things. 

The study had the same perfect bay window you remembered, there were only a few glimpses of sunlight left but it was still the spot you knew would be the most comforting. You sat down carefully, gently fixing the skirt of your dress that’s length reached your mid-calves. It was elegant and black, more simple than loud but that was your taste when it came to family business. 

You looked at a few piles of books that sat near the bay window, touching them carefully as the spines were clearly aged, dust coating them and now your fingertips. One of them could surely entertain you well enough for a while as part of your plan to pass time. It was then that you heard the click of the doorknob turning as the door opened into the room, revealing Titus Danforth stepping in. 

Titus had seen you walk into here, the first thing he notices when he steps in is your eyes that immediately look up to see him. You're surprised but you don’t look like a deer in headlights, nor a fox with its paw caught in a trap. There’s no fear or disgust on your face, just genuine surprise to have someone else step into this slice of a moment in time. 

A Danforth walking into a study on the Danforth estate shouldn’t surprise you but it still does. “I’m sorry to have imposed, did you need the room?” You clear your throat after a moment and then ask politely. 

“No.” Titus watched you, his smile growing slightly, he walked closer and then sat on the desk near the window and faced you. You bit your lip for a second to hold your tongue back from saying something, sitting on desks and tables was a habit you’d always hated. Titus noticed the bite but he didn’t know the reasoning, he still found it interesting. He wanted to learn every reaction and expression you were capable of, what would trigger them and what noise was elicited by what word or look. 

His hazel eyes flicked down to the book next to your side, you felt your cheeks heat up with embarrassment as you looked down at the books you’d  moved closer to peruse. You put them down, tidily moving them to the side, trying to wipe some of the dust off, more for the sake of a distraction than anything else. 

“You’re on your own…” Titus said as his eyes moved from the dusty books to your eyes. They were mesmerising, the shape was what caught him and then the colour of your irises was the most enchanting hue he’d ever seen. 

“Yes, I didn’t mean to snoop. I just like the quiet.” You look down, you find the quiet more comforting than the tense body language and pissing contests that took place whenever the families of the Council gathered. Cautious not to provoke, hyper aware that making yourself at home and sitting next to some dusty tomes in a study in these circles could be interpreted as something much less innocent. 

After a quiet moment your gaze lifted and met him again, he was just watching you quietly, thoughtfully. It wasn’t something you’d expected to see before, his eyes were hard to decipher but you hadn’t noticed the wide, almost softness they also had. They were a pretty hazel colour, you give him a small smile. 

“I know.” He said and then he took something out from his pocket, Titus took your hand at the same time, placing a small familiar blade into your hand that he’s holding now with both of his big hands. You look down, shock and embarrassment floods you at the unexpected gesture. The hilt catches your eyes, it’s one you’re more than familiar with, weighed and carved to perfection for throwing. 

“Oh, thank you!” You chuckled quietly and then looked up at him. “Ursula didn’t need it after all? I’m surprised she didn’t return it herself.” 

“She doesn’t know.” He shrugs with a slight smile that grows, his dark eyes twinkling. It was hard not to immediately light up at your reaction and your soft chuckle, it had a melodic ring to it that he could get used to. 

Your eyes and mouth widen at the same time, you chuckled as the words land and are then absorbed. “Titus Danforth! You little pick pocket!” You laugh more, genuinely quite surprised at him doing something like that and then telling you, all over a small knife you didn’t really have any issue parting with. He felt a flutter in his stomach and a warmth flood through his pale freckled skin at the sight of glee on your face, a laugh he’d earnestly drawn out. 

Titus looked down at your hand and nodded with a smile, then back at your eyes, committing the way your eyelashes fanned out to memory. He’d considered not returning the knife after he’d pocketed it from a clueless Ursula, he’d considered it seriously, keeping it for himself. The etchings and patterns on the sheath and hilt distinctly declared this as a knife belonging to your family, it would be a humourous memento that was undeniably yours. He’d wondered if you’d thrown this particular knife before, he assumed so, whether as part of training or in an actual hunt, he didn’t know. But he decided it was best to return it to you, especially with the fact that it would give him an easy opening to talk to you. 

You were always so reserved at these things, you and your brother always sidestepping social interactions and ducking out of conversations as soon as you could. He’d noticed that your brother tended to speak more than you but that wasn’t saying much, and Titus knew in his gut that this dynamic wasn’t a guard dog watching over a delicate flower of a sister, but because you liked to observe and absorb. Titus knew you were better than the others, more interesting and that you wouldn’t say it to him right now, but you knew it too, in your own way. What Titus wouldn’t give to be able to see into your head and know what exactly it was that you thought. 

Titus looked at you, he looked at your hands slightly for a moment. Hands that were soft except for where some calluses had likely formed from your musical gifts. “Do you still play?” Titus asked as he shifted a little closer, still holding your hands with the most gentle touch. 

“Not as often.” You answered vaguely but truthfully. 

“Hm.” He nodded, still holding your hand in his own, thinking it would be nice to keep his hand with yours for as long as possible. His touch surprised you but you wouldn’t allow yourself to say anything. “You look divine.” He says simply as his eyes go to your dress. Your eyes flick up to his face, the irises are such a pretty green, you know they’re technically hazel but there’s just so much green in them in this light. 

“Thanks…” You whisper quietly and give him a small smile, tilting your head down to try and avoid the way you can feel your cheeks heat up, even if he can’t tell. It feels weird to be complimented when in these social circles but especially when it’s just the two of you. It makes it feel more real and less like the superficial compliments exchanged over drinks and handshakes with an audience.  

He nods after a moment, still looking at your hand before looking back at you, his eyes looking less green for a moment as they soften and seem to grow. “I last saw you play two years ago, back in Berlin.”

It takes a moment for his words to really land and then your eyes widen quickly. Your cheeks heating up more as surprise swirls from your stomach to your head, straightening your back up the more you try to meet his eyes. “Really? I didn’t know…” 

Titus shrugs as if it’s nothing. “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see you… play.” There’s a silence that hums between you both, his thumb rubs a soft, light circle over your knuckles. It’s a surprisingly soft touch but you also can’t help the unease at the feeling, you feel a sense of embarrassment crawling up you at this oddly intimate moment. You never would’ve imagined Titus holding your hand as you two sat alone in a study, maybe it was an accident and Titus didn’t even realise he was still holding your hand. 

When in reality, that was what was consuming him. 

“I had piano lessons when I was younger, I didn’t really have the patience for it… To excel in a way like you do. Can you play that too?” He asks and you nod for a moment before speaking. 

“Yes, it’s a good foundation.” You watch his eyes, Titus always has been someone with intense eye contact but his gaze seems more interested in your hand then meeting your eyes. It’s odd. It feels unnerving. Maybe it’s from admitting he didn’t immediately excel at something. You can imagine that easily being a sore topic for someone in the Danforth line and with what knowledge you know of his and Ursula’s upbringing. 

“I’d like to hear you play again.” Titus spoke gently, repeating your name in a tone you’d never heard from his lips before, his thumb brushing over your hand again before he carefully let it go, his eyes looked over his shoulder and it almost pained him to not get to see your face, your hair, your lips for another second. He moved his hand away delicately and slowly, as if it was paper he was trying to keep dry in a rainstorm. Titus was not a quiet man but you watched his hand squeeze yours one last time before fully letting go, detaching completely and silently leaving you alone in the study.

Deran eyed his brother from behind the bar, cocking his head towards Nicky when Craig mentioned the ID, an incredulous look in his eye as if to say 'really? they really buy that shit over there?' The girl looked 16, no matter how close to 18 she actually was. And Deran just didn't care about her enough (or at all) to risk his freshly-opened bar just to allow Craig's underage girlfriend to get high in the bathroom.

The place was still empty, closed for stocking and replenishment purposes. Craig was here with Nicky for god knows what reason, but Deran wanted to save himself the trouble of throwing them out later during the day.

He still wasn't sure why Craig kept her around, why Smurf let her stay in the house and in on private information that would probably get them arrested if the wrong person got her alone.

"Dude, she's just-"

"No. That's final." he huffed. "Now get out of here. We open in an hour and I'm still waiting on my new bartender to head in."

That sparked Craig's attention, though Nicky had already muttered some complaints under her breath as she stomped towards the door, now standing by it as she waited for Craig to follow along — which he was likely to do, always at her beck and call even when she was half Craig's age.

"New bartender? You opened this place like last week. You're already hiring a new one? What happened to, uh, Leah? No, Carla, right?"

"Jenna quit cause the hours weren't working for her. I got a new one coming in today. It's a friend I met at another bar downtown. The one I told you about. You'll like her—" he halted, stopping Craig before he could interject. "— which is why I need you gone so you don't scare her off on her first day."

Craig complained, argued back, even got Nicky involved, but ultimately listened to his brother and walked away, following Nicky out the door and huffing to himself at how high-strung Deran had been since the bar's opening a month ago. He'd show up later today, probably. He usually did.

Deran kept cleaning up around the place, a little understaffed at the moment and taking on more responsibility than usual. He hoped that you'd be the saving grace that would take on some of the brunt of the job for him.

It'd been a while since he'd met you. Had found you at a bar across town about a year ago when the idea of buying a bar had first taken root in his brain. Before he could even consider the idea a possibility while he lived under Smurf's watchful eye. But now he was away, now the guys were all on his side — to some extent, at least. Now he wasn't the only outlier and could get shit done on his own. They were pulling their own jobs, taking on a church sometime next month.

Your meeting had been by chance. He wasn't really one to meet girls in bars (for more reasons than the obvious), but it wasn't really him that put himself in your orbit. It had been more of a chance encounter.

Some guy had been bugging at you, poking the bear repeatedly while everyone else at the bar's counter continued to mind their own business, well aware of the fact that you were being harassed by some asshole but not doing anything about it — not that Deran was all that interested in helping you out either.

You managed to flip the situation on him, though, snapped after ten consecutive minutes of some asshole bothering you. It'd been as unexpected to Deran as it'd been to Adrian, who'd been sitting next to him. Within seconds you had him with his arm twisted behind his back, yelping in pain and pinned against the counter while others watched the glasses shatter on the floor.

Without thinking much of it, Deran offered to pay for whatever damages you'd caused, him and Adrian talking down the bartender from kicking you out along with the idiot you'd humiliated in front of everyone. The three of you spent the rest of the night together getting drunk on some lone corner of the bar, with Deran carelessly letting you in for reasons he couldn't really explain. He liked you, and so did Adrian, so it was easy to let his guard down that day.

Having been with Adrian that day, it became obvious to you what was going on between them. That made you about the third person to know about Deran's best-kept secret, leading to a rare closeness between you and one of the younger Cody boys.

And he made sure to keep you away from Smurf's shit, much like he did with Adrian. Despite your general awareness of the family's shady workings, you remained just as clueless to the details as any other citizen of Oceanside, being kept as yet another one of Deran's secrets.

But that was until today, the first day of your new position as his nighttime bartender.

When he'd found himself in need of someone ASAP, you were the first person he thought of, and the only person he knew would have his back no matter how last minute his need came to be. And he was mostly okay with it, even if he'd now have to put up with Baz eyeing you while he pretended not to do so, with Craig checking you out shamelessly, with J looking to you with suspicion, and with Pope doing whatever the fuck Pope did when a pretty girl hung around Deran.

Just when he began to think about his brothers again, the bell hanging above the entrance jingled, causing him to look up and find you standing there.

"Shit, this place's sick." you walked slowly as you took in the place, letting your bag fall on one of the stools as you approached Deran. "How come you've never let me come?"

"I told you – my brothers. Which, by the way, just steer clear of Craig and you should be fine. Baz might look at you weird, maybe the kid too. Pope might seem a little scary, but he's a good boy unless provoked."

You nodded. "They gonna be here tonight?"

"They're here most nights. We got a job soon, so they'll be here pretty often for a while." he gestured at you to follow him behind the bar. "I'll introduce you this time. Might as well."

"They know who I am, though, right?"

Deran nodded yes. "Yeah. This is just for formalities. You should probably steer away still."

"Yeah, whatever. Not really seeing myself interested in any other Cody brothers. Now, onto business."

➽──────────────────❥

Introductions had been fine.

Deran had been right about Craig, who practically propositioned himself to you within seconds of meeting you.

"Why is your brother looking at me like he wants to take me right against the bar?" you'd asked once you were at a distance.

"You're a hot bartender, everyone's gonna be looking at you like that as soon as they walk through the door. But, uh, yeah, you should probably keep away from him."

J had nodded in acknowledgement to your presence, and Baz had wondered why Deran hadn't introduced you earlier since you'd been close friends for so long. None of them had really cared much for your existence other than to show some apprehension at finally putting a face to the name they'd occasionally hear about for the past year.

Pope hadn't reacted much, only giving you that blank and brooding stare Deran had warned you about before. And as cliche at it sounded, it was that same unwavering stare that caught your attention. He was unlike the rest of the guys, not offering you any sort of judgment (even though his furrowed brows would've told anyone else otherwise). He looked pained more than anything, like the sole black sheep of the group, not really reacting much as his brothers spoke to one another, only ever delivering almost monosyllabic responses when spoken to, nursing a single drink the entirety of the night.

Even when you walked back to your stationary position at the bar, you still occasionally eyed him, finding him looking back at you every so often. You never smiled when he looked, never even nodded or acknowledged him, only ever looking back.

By the end of the night, they were all gone, all heading their own ways while you stayed behind to clean up (part of your job, but a bad one when it came to cleaning up a bar). Even Deran skipped out on you, giving you some half-assed excuse as he ran out with Adrian. It was the usual lie he gave the guys to run off with him, still scared of the rest of them knowing about his secret and opting to leave you to clean up the mess on your own.

But you weren't on your own. Or at least you realized that after a few minutes of cleaning up when you heard a silent grunt from the other side of the room.

Peering over, you found Pope cleaning up some tables, overly focused as he scraped at some deeply infused stains taking up space on the surface of the table.

You walked over without thinking too much of it, taking a clean wipe and a stain remover on each respective hand before placing them on the table in exchange for the dry napkin he'd been using — likely the only thing he found at hand.

"You don't have to do this, y'know? Deran, that asshole, he's the one who should be helping me. But he pays me, so it's fine. You can go back out there with your-"

"I'm good."

With no further words, he grabbed the supplies you'd set on the table, beginning to use them after throwing out his napkin.

He stayed silent for a while as he kept cleaning, his back mostly to you and his mind fully on the task. You decided to stay nearby, cleaning basically side by side as he continued to clean.

"This is- this is a good one. This is what I use back home." he broke the silence, unexpectedly enough.

You nodded to yourself. "Yeah. I got these for Deran last month. Idiot's a mess. Doesn't know how to clean."

Surprisingly, that earned you a chuckle (maybe a sarcastic scoff, you weren't sure). You knew him to not be very expressive, so even as your first time meeting, the slight curve of his lip shocked you. Still, your expression remained stagnant.

"Sounds like Deran."

Another few beats of silence, only interrupted by the brief and occasional clatter of cups as you removed them in order to wipe tables. The two of you remained in each other's orbits, close enough to speak lightly and deliver the sound to the other's ear without much effort.

"I'm surprised at least one of the Cody boys knows how to clean." you broke the silence again.

"Yeah? I'm the only one who does."

There was a lightness to his voice. Much unlike how Deran had described him since you'd known him — and he spoke about his brothers more than he'd be willing to admit.

"You clean up after all four? Jesus. Maybe you should be getting the bigger cut of those jobs you guys do."

You hadn't meant anything by it. Not really. The Cody's going on shady jobs was no secret to anyone. It was more of an unspoken thing. One of those things in which you couldn't be caught unless it was red handed, and the Cody's always made sure they came back with their hands clean.

Still, it made Pope halt. And you realized immediately that you'd probably spoken out of turn. Your cool remained, allowing you to not react, but you could still see a stilled Pope on your peripheral view.

"What's Deran told you?"

Slowly but surely, Pope continued his movements, likely wanting to assess how much you knew instead of jumping to conclusions. Still, you knew he'd probably kick his brother's ass about this later. Hell, you'd apologize to Deran if he survived it.

"Uh, he mentions stuff from time to time. I just moved in upstairs with him, so it's kinda hard to ignore all the phone calls and money coming around. He never goes into the specifics, though." you replied. "Sorry, I won't bring it up again. Not really interested in that stuff, anyway."

You looked at him as you said it, figuring that someone as big as him on eye contact would appreciate the ability to assess your honesty through your eyes — which were telling the truth about your complete lack of knowledge on Deran's secret side quests with his brothers.

With his lips in a pursed line, he nodded (mostly to himself than you), shrugging to himself before putting his attention back on the countertop he'd been cleaning.

He was an unnerving guy. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but you didn't really know him well enough to assess him properly just yet. You liked the intensity he carried with him, though. It reminded you of Deran, but Pope just happened to draw you in more easily. Any scary stories you'd heard about him sounded silly now that you shared this quiet space with him, now that you watched him willingly stay behind and help you clean out of his own volition.

(Which, unbeknownst to you at the moment, had been just an excuse to make sure Deran didn't leave his friend alone at night at a bar in what was arguably a sketchy side of town).

"It's Andrew, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"My- my name. It's Andrew." he stuttered a bit. "You can just call me Andrew."

"Pope reserved for friends only?" you joked.

"No. Andrew is."

And he left it at that, moving from his spot to some of the tables across the bar. Didn't explain what he meant or why he'd say it to you specifically, someone he'd just met. It felt strange, but gratifying all the same. Like a stray dog who entrusted in you, who chose you despite its lack of trust in anyone else.

The two of you continued to clean up the place side by side. The occasional comment was shared, but not much was revealed. He'd asked how you met Deran, which you told him. You'd asked who his favorite brother was, to which he responded that it varied and asked you the same thing, likely not expecting you to say that at that moment, it was him.

➽──────────────────❥

Along with working at the bar, you had a day job as a nurse. It was more of a part-time gig.

You worked on rare occasions, only ever called in when someone was sick or took a leave of absence. It never got in the way of your work at the bar, as that was your priority. Nothing really held a candle to those Oceanside tips you got from smiling at the right person while they were on their way to blackout drunk.

Other than that, you'd sometimes volunteer at the local church.

It wasn't really your vibe, with religion not being something you were particularly into. It had been a coworker who had gotten you into the gig, insisting they needed extra hands and that you were a natural one with kids, frequently filling in as a pedes nurse at the local hospitals. And it was true, you really did find it easy to work with kids. The free food and letters of recommendation to attach to your resume were other contributing factors, but you liked to think you were doing it for more noble reasons.

Oddly enough, Deran took a particular interest when you'd brought up a shift watching over the kids' bible study at the local mega church. He was the last guy you'd ever thought would perk his ears up at the mention of Jesus, but you didn't really question it the first time he asked you about it.

The second and third time, you got more suspicious, but by the fourth time you realized it'd been a mistake to bring it up.

It had come up as a way to break the comfortable silence. You'd been stocking up bottles behind the counter, checking off boxes from the checklist and making sure everything was in place, that none of the other workers were skimping out on Deran (a task he entrusted you with). Until he broke that silence, clearing his throat as he took a seat on the other side of the counter.

"So, uh, you got church stuff this week?"

"Dude, what is it with the church? You planning on getting baptized?"

He chuckled incredulously, shaking his head. "Just curious, that's all."

But that awkward avoidance of eye contact told you all you needed to know, making you stop on your tracks and gape at him. You were about to break that silent vow of, well, silence.

"No way. Don't tell me you're planning on taking on the church." you lowered your voice despite being the only two people in there at that moment.

His eyes widened, looking to the sides as if he was checking to see if any of the zero people in the building could've heard you.

"You-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not supposed to ask. But you keep asking me. What am I supposed to say? What do you even wanna know, anyway? I'm just a volunteer. I have no insider info as to how to rob a fucking church."

Deran nodded defeatedly. "Yeah, shit, I know. Okay, man? Just- We need someone on the inside. Pope's been working this girl, I think. But she's too green. Blue, even. Probably the type who'd go to the cops if she knew what we're up to."

Andrew? That caught your attention.

He'd been working a girl? You wanted to ask more, but you weren't sure how Deran would take it if you showed particular interest in any of his brothers. Much less the one he liked to deem as the crazy one.

You hadn't seen much of Andrew since last week. Since he'd silently stayed behind and helped clean up the place, telling you to let him know if Deran ever left you alone again. That he'd beat his ass. He'd said it in monotone, not giving you that white knight vibe. He'd said it as if it were the obvious thing to do, like he'd been programed to do so.

After that, you spotted him at the bar two separate times, always looking at him with interest you hoped he'd catch, but never receiving anything more than a blank stare — which, at least it wasn't the angry, suspicious one he offered most other people. No, he looked at you with curiosity more than anything; a curiosity you wanted to feed into.

Hearing that Andrew was working a girl (whatever that meant) gave space for that green monster to take root within you. You had no reason to feel that way, really. Specially not since working the girl sounded like part of a bigger plan, not genuine, and also, of course, because you were nothing to Andrew. Him telling you to call him by his name could've easily meant nothing. It could've easily been him making up for Deran's lack of manners in leaving you on your own on your first day.

"What do you need to know?" you decided to ignore what he'd said about Andrew. "I'm not green, you know that. You're not all that good at keeping me in the dark about your shady shit."

Shit, were you willingly getting involved? Just because the words Pope and girl were used in the same sentence?

Even Deran looked surprised as he looked at you.

"Uh, yeah, I know." he cleared his throat. "I trust you, though."

You nodded, urging him to continue. You stopped your task by then, giving him your full attention. This seemed like one of those things that required complete focus, with it being punishable by law (even by just being aware of it happening).

"Pope's already on the inside. Joined some church group with the girl, uhm, Amy, I think. Craig's out of this one, so we're down a man. An extra set of eyes would help, though. We already scouted the place, know where the safe is and all. Just need someone to keep the guards away when we break into the storage room."

"Shit, you're really robbing a church? You were already going to hell, but now you're going to super hell. Ever heard of karma, Deran?"

"Yeah, that's what Craig said."

"You've always wanted to keep me away from this shit. What's different now?"

He shrugged. "I've known you long enough to trust you. Wanna prove a point to Craig, too."

"Fighting?"

"The usual. Give it a few days."

"Your brothers fine with me involved?" you asked, knowing how tight knit their operation usually ran. Except Smurf wasn't involved now, so maybe things were different.

Again, he shrugged. "Baz might have some issue with it. J too, maybe. Pope seems chill about you. Hasn't said his usual schizo shit about you like he usually does with my friends. Should be fine this one time." he assured. "Question is: Are you good with this?"

"Yeah. We're best friends, aren't we? As long as I don't have to do actual illegal shit, I'm good."

He nodded, squeezing your hand on the counter as a silent form of thank-you.

It wasn't mentioned after that. Nothing was formalized, not even the details of their plan or what you'd be doing. As of now, it sounded like you were an insider, a Plan B in case shit hit the fan. You weren't one to be interested in the shady business they took part in, but you knew Deran wouldn't have brought it up unless it was an emergency. You knew that this was one of their first hits without Smurf, that they were on their own for the first time and needed to ensure things went smooth.

➽──────────────────❥

You didn't feel particularly welcomed by either Andrew or Craig as you and Deran walked towards their spot at the beach, beers in hand.

He'd just gotten back from a job. Just a quickie, he'd called it. Something to hold them over until the church thing in a few weeks. Deran needed the money. Something about the bar, some accounting shit he hadn't taken care of, something he hadn't known of as a newbie property owner.

The two brothers eyed you down as they sipped their own beers, not really acknowledging you as you took a seat on a rock next to Deran. They were uncomfortably quiet, eyes shooting daggers at Deran for bringing an outsider along to a get-together after a successful job.

"Guys, it's fine. She knows about this shit."

"Should she know, Deran?"

"I'm sorry, don't you have a 12-year-old staying at your burnt down apartment? She sure knows a whole lot."

"Fine. Pope?" Craig turned towards Andrew, likely hoping he'd agree with his apprehension.

Andrew simply shrugged, letting his guard down after a minute of staring you down.

"If Deran's cool, then I'm cool."

"Why're you here?" Craig asked, swinging at his beer.

"I'm always here. I live with Deran, he just drags me along. Hard not to know shit when we live together."

"How much do you know?" this time it was Andrew, though he seemed less hostile than Craig, a rare sight.

"I told you. No specifics. I'm just here for Deran."

Before Craig could give a rebuttal, complain about how he was never allowed to bring people in, Deran interrupted.

"See, man? All good." he went to change the subject. "Anyways, I told you guys. This is the shit that we should be doing. Not Baz's bullshit. Admit it, you had fun."

Deran had told you the details about the job while he made a run for some beer back at the bar. You'd been there, restocking when he showed up, with him catching you up on the details while he grabbed a few beers for the guys. It was rare for him to be so open about it all, but you were fine with it as long as he was. Deran had gone this long without getting caught, letting you in on it likely wouldn't change things.

Andrew thought for a second before responding, ultimately deciding it was fine if he talked freely while you were there. Deran was one of the more responsible out of all his brothers. If he trusted you, so did he. His gut didn't feel fucked up while you were around, which was a rare feeling for him.

"It went okay today. It doesn't always go that way."

"We never had any trouble when we did simple shit." he looked to you for a second before continuing, not sure how his brothers would take him talking so freely. "You went to prison cause of Baz."

Andrew stiffened for a second, eyes finding yours before looking away. He looked to the side, uncomfortable at the mention of his time in prison, but Deran called his attention again, set on smearing Baz.

"No, you didn't wanna hit that branch. We all thought it was too hot."

"No, I went to prison because a guard wasn't where he was supposed to be. Shit happens."

It surprised you that Andrew would take the heat off Baz so easily. You'd met him only once or twice, but from what Deran had told you, he'd always taken lead, even when it wasn't for the best interest of the rest. Deran didn't doubt that he loved his brothers, but he was always sure to let you know of his disagreements with him, of how, even if not on purpose, he put his safety above everyone else's.

"How you gonna let him do that to you?" Deran continued.

"Jesus, man, let it go." Craig interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's true, it's true. Baz acts like we work for him. I mean, maybe us more than you, but... Come on, I know you see it." he gestured towards you. "She sees it too, and she barely even knows the guy."

"You've poisoned the well, that's all." Craig chuckled. "Of course your best friend's gonna agree with you."

You stayed quiet, only really interested in learning the lore around here. You wanted to know which brothers would throw which under the bus. It was useless information, but you were interested in anything you could find out about Andrew.

Andrew looked to you with a blank expression before looking back at Deran. "No. No, man. No. No, this is what she wants. This is what she does. She wants us fighting and turning on each other. I'm not, I'm not doing that."

"She know about Smurf? Or, like, how much does she know?" Craig asked, looking at Deran rather than at you.

"You can just ask me directly, you know."

He turned to you then, "Okay. How much has he told you?"

You shrugged. "I know enough to not be very fond of her."

"Cheers to that." grumbled Andrew.

Craig finished counting the money after that, handing the shares to each respective brother while you sat and watched, nursing your beer, disinterested in the money part of it all. You had free rent staying with Deran, money wasn't your top priority at the moment.

Andrew turned to Deran, extending his stack of money towards him.

"Take it." when Deran looked to Craig suspiciously, Andrew interrupted. "No, he didn't say shit. Just that you need money. Now you have it. I'll give you the rest. 16k, right?"

"No. No, man."

"Consider it a loan." Andrew insisted. "You can pay me back when we do the church, okay? Take it."

Craig followed suit, handing him the money, asking if he could crash with you guys as payment for his share.

The day ended there, with the three of you heading towards the bar while Andrew went back to Baz's to see Lena. You nodded a silent goodbye to him, one which he surprisingly responded to.

In the passing of days until the church job, you saw the brothers quite frequently, became familiar with them. They were at the bar quite often, though they always huddled together on some corner, not wanting anyone listening in. On those days, you'd take charge of business for Deran, bringing them drinks every so often and playing darts once they were done with their private conversations.

Deran hadn't brought up your involvement in the job to his brothers yet, but he'd pretty much confirmed to you he'd need you as some extra eyes, not sure when he'd be able to confirm your part in it all. You didn't care much, really. There was just this teenage girl part of your brain that hoped the job would go on forever if it meant Andrew kept stopping by, kept making short conversation with you as he dropped Lena off at the break room so he could go talk to his brothers.

"Thanks for watching her. She really likes you." he'd say when he'd go to pick her up.

"Well, I really like her too. She takes after you." you'd respond, knowing full and well that Andrew took the brunt of raising her while Baz played around with some girlfriend in Mexico.

Andrew would look down at his feet, fighting a smile, but finding one on your lips when he looked back up.

You'd touch hands sometimes while you handed him Lena's backpack, to which he'd flinch, muttering an apology when you'd chuckle at him, telling him you were looking forward to seeing him again.

You were friends. There was no doubt about that in your mind. Not much words needed to be exchanged. It was a silent agreement between you, a secret thing no one else needed to be let in on.

With the passing of days, you became certain about your infatuation with the eldest Cody boy. And you liked to think it was a mutual thing. He was pretty closed off, but less so with you than with others (or at least that's what Craig and Deran implied a few times while you lounged at your upstairs apartment with them). Your eyes would often find each others', always looking away before your gazes became too intense.

You were fucked, you knew that much. Getting involved with a Cody boy was dangerous, even if it was a one-time thing. But you were looking for something more permanent with Andrew, which would mean you'd now be involved with not one, not two, but three of the brothers.

➽──────────────────❥

Next time you really spoke with Andrew was at the church.

It was your turn to watch the kids during bible study while the adults did bible study of their own. It seemed pointless to you, but as long as you didn't have to touch the religion yourself, you were fine. It was nice to take care of the kids, to braid their hair when it came loose and to take them to listen to the band rehearse after they finished with their studies.

Finishing early gave you a chance to walk around the place, the curiosity about the guys' job taking over you as you walked through the hallways, having the map Deran had shown you on your mind.

You heard talking from one of the back rooms, so you headed in there, finding the classic Socratic Circle bible study groups usually sat in to discuss passages of the bible. As you walked in, you immediately spotted Andrew, who was facing the door as he spoke, drawing the attention on himself. Next to him sat a blonde woman, looking attentively at him as he spoke.

"-be tried beyond what you are able to bear. But with the trial will also provide a way out, so that you may be able to endure. That's the part that matters. How we can bear anything if he have to."

"Right." a man agreed. "Because he loves you. So I guess we're both right-"

"It doesn't say that." Andrew interrupted. "It just says he'll get you through."

You couldn't help but snort to yourself as you watched. He seemed passionate about what he said, just a little intense about it. But you dug it, you were into the look in his eyes as he said it, as he seemingly discovered God and his mercy.

The woman finally spoke up, probably trying to avoid an argument due to Andrew's insistence. "The beauty of the gospel is the meaning can be clear to each of us in a very different way."

She looked to Andrew and bit her lip, all while he was unaware of her eyes on him. When he looked back at her, she was already looking, which earned her an awkward half-smile from him.

He somehow didn't spot you until a few moments later, when the session came to a close. You nodded at him as he stood up, now even more awkward at realizing you'd been listening.

It didn't seem to you like he was working the girl — who you assumed to be the Amy Deran had mentioned. It appeared more like a genuine interest in her, in the church. It made your stomach twist, the jealousy gearing up as you saw her walk over to him shyly and give him a side hug before walking over to someone else who was calling her attention. Andrew's eyes stayed on you the whole time, a sort of frustrated yet terrified look in them. You weren't sure.

He walked over to you then, nodding so you'd step to the side with him for some privacy from the center of the room.

"What are you doing here?"

"I volunteer with the kids' bible study. I thought Deran would've told you. I-"

"What do you mean Deran would've told me? What do you know about this? How'd you know I'd be in here?" his voice grew more exasperated by the second, but he kept it low.

It was like he didn't want you to see him with Amy, or maybe he didn't want Amy to see him with you. He'd never spoken to you with anything but a soft tone, one you didn't really hear directed at anyone other than Lena. The swift change made you shudder.

You didn't like this. You thought he had some sort of soft spot for you. He knew you already knew about the church thing, about a few other things too. Why was he mad at you being here? Yeah, he didn't know Deran was considering your help just yet, but was your involvement that bad? He was the one getting all cozy with Amy, involuntarily dragging her into this. And for what reason? Why, when you were right there, willing and ready?

"Deran said you guys might need my help that day." you chose to rip off the band-aid. He was already mad, there was no point in baby gloves. "I heard people talking and walked in here." You gestured over to Amy, who had by now eyed you a few times. "'s that Amy?"

Andrew grabbed your wrist suddenly, with much more force than you'd expect he'd touch you with, walking you over to the door and stopping there, your bodies now being covered by a wall beside it.

He practically fumed, making your heart drop. Not in fear, but in disappointment. "Don't ask questions. If Deran wants you in this, you don't ask questions, okay? Amy and I, we're not- Don't say her name to anyone else. It doesn't involve you."

He was defensive about it, practically about to blow up. It made that tiny little spark in you die completely.

Shit. He wasn't just working some girl. He was just genuinely into her.

Defeated, you nodded, looking down at your feet while he let go of your hand. He calmed down immediately, noticing your change in demeanor, your defeated confidence, which was usually blooming and present.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, Andrew. Got you loud and clear. I'll see you later, okay? I think Amy's looking for you, you should go." you walked away before he could say anything else, steps quick so you could remove yourself from the room.

From behind you, you heard her voice calling his name, asking what was wrong, who were you. You were already gone by the time he responded, missing when he said 'nothing,' 'just my friend.' And specially missing Amy giving Andrew her number, inviting him and Lena out to the park, not knowing you'd probably be there volunteering too.

You saw Andrew again that weekend, at the softball game Amy had invited him to. It rubbed salt on the wound, seeing them there, seeing how close they were already. Amy had her arm perched on Andrew's as they watched Lena play. They looked like proud parents, already meeting each other's kids and having those outings reserved for nuclear families you'd see on TV. You had a bitter taste in your mouth, feeling like an idiot for even feeling this way.

Andrew saw you, just didn't really acknowledge you. He kept avoiding your eyes, unlike any other time you were in the same room together. He'd usually hold your gaze, give you one of those almost-smiles and sit by you at the bar's counter, not speaking but rather sharing your company.

Lena saw you, excitedly running over to you as you reached over for a hug. She was excited to show you she'd brought along a doll you gave her, happily engaging with you as you asked her questions about her day, about her new toys. You were the one who would watch her, keep her out of the main area of the bar and give her something to play with, bringing some old doll from your childhood or a coloring book for her. Andrew was always appreciative of it, but he'd been distant these past few days, telling Lena to go find you at the bar rather than walking her over to you as he usually did.

You'd mostly given up hope on getting with Andrew, seeing him with Amy for only the second time cemented that for you. So when Andrew tried calling you over once Amy excused herself to the bathroom, you simply walked Lena over to him, cutting him off with a goodbye before he could say anything.

The defeated look in his eyes made you feel bad, but you weren't willing to try and chase after a taken guy.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew had gone on his date, had kissed Amy, spent ample time with her while taking care of Lena.

It was the first time he'd ever dated anyone. The first time he didn't feel completely inadequate with someone, or as if there was some master plan or pity behind the other person's intentions. It'd all been built on a lie, on a plan to work the church, but Andrew still went along with it all, still found himself drawn to Amy and willing to take the risk.

But then he'd think about you.

He'd think about the way you'd look at him, the way that look faded when he snapped at you back at the church, how it was beyond repair when you saw him at that softball game with Amy and Lena.

He wasn't sure what to do. He'd never had two girls interested in him at once. Having one already felt like too much, but, shit, he couldn't help but think about you while he was with Amy.

And sure, he thought about her sometimes, while he was alone, while he was with his brothers. But you never left his mind. Every moment spent with Amy felt like he was cheating on you. He'd never felt this infatuated with anyone, not even Cath. But he'd also never had anyone be so forward about their interest in him. Amy was a brand new experience, and it made him feel good, no matter how shitty it felt to lie to her (and to you, and to himself).

The day of the job, it all went well. His brothers saw him with Amy, but they sort of already knew. They thought it was fake, that it had been all part of the plan, and he could roll with that. It bothered him, though, that the only person he wanted to keep this from already knew how real it all was.

He saw you as he stayed back with Amy and the rest of the group. Saw you texting, likely keeping Deran updated and checking in with J and Baz as they hacked into the safe while Andrew hung around with the church's staff. He was too distracted with Amy to keep track of the text thread. He was being careless, not only with you but also with the job.

And when it came time to do his part, to go and break the key on the lock that led back to the room in which the safe resided, he was too distracted by Amy's words earlier that day.

"You might have a special reward coming your way tonight."

Sex.

He had been caught off guard by that, not really knowing how to respond, opting to ask her about it later.

And when he did ask, she apologized claiming premarital sex was a sin, but immediately explained they could have fun in other ways. Andrew felt himself twitch at the thought, but then he remembered you, thought about how you'd offer yourself up to him if he just opened up to you, thought of how you felt about premarital sex. You didn't seem like a church person, not like Amy was. He wasn't much of a church person either, just liked what it represented, the promise of acceptance he'd never gotten anywhere else.

Before he could really explore any further thought about you, a guard came in, letting them know it was time to close up. Amy excitedly grabbed onto his hand after that, leading him outside. He panicked internally, knowing he had a mission to accomplish, but he'd waited too long. He didn't know how he'd explain to Amy that he needed a detour. But as soon as they stepped outside, he realized he wouldn't need to.

Because you were there. Already by the door that held the key, guard having already being warded off by you through some distraction Andrew had only caught the tail end of.

While you watched Amy pull Andrew away from his destination, the key to the door holding the safe, you looked back at him, finding his eyes already on you, pleading with you to do this for him, to cover for him as he got pulled away. He was supposed to be the inside-man, having one simple task, but he'd let himself get pushed away by his interest in a girl. He felt like an idiot as he looked back at you, finding your blank stare as you broke the key yourself, doing his job for him, not judging him the way his brothers would've.

The guys hadn't exactly agreed to your involvement in the plan, much less had Andrew. He'd been uncharacteristically adamant against you showing up, that you be told the details. But he'd been promptly told to shut the fuck up by Deran, who insisted, saying that Andrew wasn't enough of an inside man, that you'd be completely inconspicuous to any bystander as someone who already had a presence at the church. They'd agreed on having you as a plan B and nothing more, promising they'd give you 20k for your part, impressed when you turned down any money, saying Deran was family to you and that was enough payment.

So Andrew got pulled away, turning out completely useless to a job he'd originally come up with and heading out with a girl that had promised him sex in return for his help with the charity drive.

And even as he went back to Amy's place, kissed her, undressed himself to her command, touched himself as she watched, he felt inadequate. He enjoyed himself, finally having someone who liked his company, but he couldn't get you out of his head, couldn't stop thinking about what you might've been thinking at that moment. It'd been obvious that Amy had been gripping his hand and skipping away in a hurry to get him alone. You weren't stupid, Andrew knew that. He knew you knew what they'd be up to as soon as they left, with him being too weak and infatuated with Amy to interrupt his chance with her to complete his small part of the job.

His stomach churned at knowing you knew what was going on with Amy, at you knowing it was a real thing. He wasn't even sure if you liked him. Had no idea if it was all in his head (as most things were), but he still felt sick about it all. He knew what it was like to want someone who didn't want you back, someone who wanted someone else rather than you. Hell, it was the story of his life.

Except he did want you. He had from the moment Deran began bringing you up. He'd seen you hang with Deran around town sometimes, never being spotted by you as he watched. But, fuck, he'd been drawn from that first moment. Specially so once Deran actually introduced you over a month ago. He'd found understanding in your eyes, had found your eyes searching for his, not Deran's, not Craig's, not Baz's.

He hoped that the more he got to know you, he'd be able to create a space in your life for him. You were already so good with Lena, telling Deran to fuck off when he'd tell you to get back to work when Andrew showed up with Lena, saying you'd take care of her while they got their shit together. You'd slap Craig when he'd say dumb shit directed at his brothers, specially when it came to Andrew. And you'd stare — a lot, never once wavering away from the intense gaze he'd give back, the same one everyone seemed so terrified of.

But then came Amy and forgiveness.

Amy gave him a door towards forgiveness. For Julia, for Cath, for Lena. She was on the outside, not knowing anything that could get her to run away from his in feat that she'd be the next person he hurt.

And you? You knew too much. You were Deran's best friend, practically attached to his hip, kept at a distance from the family but not enough for you to not know every gory detail behind their inner workings.

But even knowing all that, you still offered Andrew an olive branch. You never said so explicitly, but he could see it in your eyes, could see you'd accept him.

The moment that spark in your eyes first left was when you saw him with Amy at the church, the second when you saw them together at the softball game, the third being when he walked away with her to sleep with her, something made abundantly clear to you by the pep in Amy's step as they walked away.

When he left Amy's place the following morning, he felt like utter shit. Even more than he did at lying to her about what'd happened at the church, at using her trust in him to get what he and his brothers wanted from the church.

And unbeknownst to him, he'd feel even worse a few hours later when he found out that you'd been helping patch up J with his brothers while he was too busy masturbating with Amy.

The job went fine, it went just as planned. But Andrew couldn't help but wish none of it had ever happened.

You didn't take part in any of the aftermath of it all. Your job started and ended at the key on that lock, with you never once bothering to rat out Andrew for how dumbly he had let his responsibility run away from him. When he saw you after that day, he couldn't even meet your eyes. He'd see Amy when he closed his eyes, but the thought would quickly be interrupted by you, by the way in which he'd completely broken something before it even started.

He'd be dealing with the consequences of Cath's death at that time too. Had been dealing with Jay and his guys raiding his home, with his guilt over both, beating himself up over what he'd done to Cath and how Baz would now have to deal with the consequences, how he'd lied to Amy and how you'd lied for him, letting him take credit for the inside job when he'd been completely useless.

You didn't know about Cath, about Jay, and he was glad Deran left it that way. But little by little, you were getting involved.

When Andrew stopped by the bar, he'd found Deran in the back alleyway showing you how to shoot a gun, telling you the basic details of what'd been going on, what risks you ran hanging with him. He heard you be nonchalant about it, once more letting Deran know you'd stick around no matter what, that he was family. Andrew wondered if you'd ever feel that way about him, hoped he hadn't fucked everything up already.

His web of lies continued as the days passed, framing one of Amy's friends for the church crime, breaking her heart about it in the process. And in the meantime, Deran got you involved in yet another job, taking the place of Nicky at the last minute in the yacht as you tricked the coast guard into helping you in order to get the plan in motion.

Andrew had to go in on Deran after the fact due to that, cornering him about your involvement, angry he'd put you in danger again.

You were all at the back of the bar when he arrived, all with beers in your hands, reminiscing about the way it all went, how Marcos had had to break a lady's finger in order to get the job done. But Andrew was pissed. He had already put Amy on the line for the church job, with you being dragged right along. And now Deran had you doing a second job within a week?

He marched towards the table, eyes landing on you and anger wavering at the concerned look in your eye. But he pushed it aside, grabbing Deran by the arm and pulling him away from the group, walking him towards the stocking closet so he could have his go at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about? What's your problem? It all went well, we're just celebrating-"

"You got her involved in this shit? Again? Are you trying to get her arrested, or even better, killed?" he rasped out, smoke practically coming out of his nose.

Deran scoffed, "Dude, mind your own damn business. This was Craig's job, Nicky pulled out last minute, and she was game. What do you want me to say?"

"Yeah, so you get her involved in this shit again? Did you miss what happened to J the other day? What happened to Nicky? Want her to be next?"

Andrew stared up at him, eyebrows knit together and anger radiating off him. He couldn't even explain his anger, couldn't rationalize to Deran why he cared if you were involved, and didn't give a damn about Nicky's involvement.

Everything was dawning on him. Baz's suspicions about Cath's disappearance, Smurf's insistence he keep it a secret, Jay's guys, the raid on the house, lying to Amy, putting you in danger, having you become a frequent presence in his life. Andrew had nowhere to run, nowhere to exhaust his terror, his anger, so he chose to take it out on Deran, to make it all about you, about how frustrated and confused you made him feel.

"I'm going to say this one last time, Pope. Mind your own damn business. She's my friend, she's the only family I have that I can always fall back on. And if me and Craig want her around, she's staying around. Got it?"

He walked away with that, shoulder pushing Andrew's in the process as he headed back out and rejoined the rest of you.

Deran didn't understand Andrew's concern. Didn't catch onto the fear he felt at the mere thought of you in danger.

It was a rare occurrence for Deran to lose his cool like that, but Andrew could understand that you were on a different playing field for him. That you were untouchable, a person he'd let into the most personal parts of his life, but would never let anyone mess with. And even though Andrew understood that, at this very moment, it still made him fume.

He marched past your table on his way out, not joining the celebratory drinks and making his way back to his car. His anger subsided on the drive over to Amy's, but the flashbacks took over. He was numb as he sat parked in front of her house, thinking back to Cath, to what he'd done to her, reliving every painful detail.

But as he sat there, he thought; would Deran go to you with something like that? Would you offer solace to him if he'd come to you, tears in his eyes, pained and tormented by the way in which he'd hurt a woman he loved? Would you take him in? Hold him? Were you Deran's comfort?

Andrew knew you and Deran weren't involved in that way. He knew about Deran, knew what was going on with Adrian. He wasn't an idiot, so he never acknowledged it, never brought it up. It wasn't something he cared about, but he found himself thinking about it at this moment, hands gripping at his steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Were you Deran's person? The one he'd go to begging for forgiveness if he ever committed acts as sinful as Pope had all his life?

He decided then, that he needed to find that. And if it wasn't you, if you were already taken up by being Deran's, then Amy would be his person.

She'd spoken of forgiveness, of unconditional love. She'd held him that night, had looked him in the eye as they both reached completion in their own terms, had laid with him afterwards and whispered soft words in his ear. Maybe she'd be the one. Maybe he had to let go of any possibility with you and stick with what he had.

When he went to knock on her door, she let him in immediately, making him sigh in relief.

They didn't speak much that night. They slept together, going against her beliefs, but Andrew was too caught up in his emotions to really care for that. He needed to feel something, the comfort he rarely ever found, given to him by Amy.

He learned a lot about her in the past month he'd known her. He knew of her son, of her DUI, how he'd been taken away, how he was staying with her brother. He saw the brokenness behind Amy's eyes, comforted her with his body as she did him with hers. They used each other that night, waking up enamored and with their spirits slightly lifted. They'd taken that heaviness off each other, now sharing the weight together.

It wasn't until a few days later that he went back to see her, that the guilt got too much, that Baz's inquiries about Cath got too heavy for him to handle that he found himself at her door again, wondering if Amy would offer some more of that comfort again. But once more, he thought of you before knocking on the door, wondering if you'd be a more permanent fix than Amy was. Wondering if you'd accept him after he confessed what he was bout to confess to Amy.

He knocked on her door, tears already in his eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey." she let him in, walking him further inside. "I thought you weren't coming til later."

He shook his head. "I need to talk to you."

"What's the matter? What's going on?" she asked, but he stayed silent. "Andrew."

"Do you think forgiveness is possible?" he looked to her with his wet eyes.

"I do. I think Jesus' love is absolute."

"Is it possible for him to... to love someone who's done something horrible? Is it possible?"

He thought of Cath, of Lena, of the lies he'd been feeding Amy since that first day. He thought of you, how he pushed you away before he could even feel the softness of your being engulf him.

"I hope so."

He gulped, "Could you?"

Could you? Would you hold him as he cried, as he lamented his past mistakes, the nightmares that haunted him day and night? Would Amy?

"Andrew, what's wrong? You can tell me anything."

"I hurt someone." he started. "A woman I loved. I loved her. But I did it anyway."

Cath. He saw her every time he looked at Lena, at Baz. Sometimes when he looked at you, wondering if you'd hate him for what he did.

Amy's grip on his hands loosened, taking a minuscule step back.

"Did what? What did you do?"

She sounded scared, but Andrew kept going. He needed to see this through.

"I thought she was going to hurt my family." he stopped, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I put a pillow on her face. And I held it there until she couldn't breathe anymore."

He hadn't realized it over his own whimpers, the tears fogging his eyesight, but Amy had backtrakced all the way to the wall, dropping to the floor as she cried a little louder at every word leaving his lips.

She looked at him in utter fear, telling him to stop, to get out, to leave and not come back.

"Stop. Stop. Don't- You need to leave. Andrew, you need to-"

And he tried to plead, to make his case and beg for forgiveness. He tried to find a home in Amy, to find that love and forgiveness she'd all but promised him, only to find that horrified look in her eyes he'd grown far too used to seeing whenever someone looked at him.

He left, sitting on the other side of her locked door as he cried to himself. And when he was able to get himself back up, he drove to the beach, taking his gun with him as he sat by the pier, contemplating what had led him there.

Andrew thought of Lena as he sat there with his loaded gun, thought of who would take care of her if he was out of the picture. Andrew remembered you then, knowing you'd step in, force your way into Baz's life if necessary and get him to take charge, would make Deran get involved so she would have a normal life now that her uncle was gone.

You wouldn't be sad about his departure, he decided. He'd been so convinced that Amy would lend him a shoulder to cry on, that her promises for unconditional forgiveness would prove true, that the weight on his shoulder's for Cath's murder would weigh just a little less with her support, but he'd only found the one constant in his life — fear.

If he had told you, if he had played his cards right and not driven you away, you would've grown just as terrified of him. You wouldn't've accepted him. No one would ever.

So, it was better like this. It was better if he put himself out of the picture, if he left you alone and stopped causing that sad look in your eyes every time he came around.

But still, he wished he could've told you how he felt. He wished he could've been careless and told you he loved you — because his feelings for you were so heavy they could be nothing else if not love. He would've scared you away then, which he knew. But the small chance of the feelings being reciprocated was enough for him to grab his phone one last time and pull up your number.

He sent one last message to you before he put his phone down for the last time.

I'm sorry.

Grabbing the gun, he looked at the moon reflecting on the ocean's waves as one last view before holding it up to his temple, the coldness of the material making him shudder. His hand was a little shaky, but he was sure of his decision.

Or so he thought until his phone vibrated on his lap, a dumb gleam of hope forcing him to put the gun down.

➽──────────────────❥

You were at some stupid party with the guys when you got that text.

It was your first time at Smurf's, having never met her before. Deran had always been adamant about keeping you away from her. She'd never heard your name, had never known of your existence. As far as she was aware, you were a passing acquaintance in Deran's life, and he was sure as hell to keep it that way.

But today she'd been gone. Baz had called the boys to confirm her absence, even inviting Lucy, who was the one person in his life he always tried to keep away from Smurf.

You stayed with the guys for a bit, hanging with Craig and Deran after they'd dragged you along to that job with Marcos. It had been too much too soon, leaving you disoriented at the whole ordeal — the kid Marcos had kidnapped and dropped in on Deran and Craig, the threats made against the poor kid, hearing him be beaten to a pulp inside Marcos' truck when he came to pick him up, Lucy showing up and commandeering the whole mission. It had even left the two brothers out of breath, now terrified of Lucy and wondering if they should warn Baz about her.

Andrew was what was on your mind. You moved past the Marcos thing when you arrived to the party, seeing Lena be dropped off by Alison and being reminded of Andrew.

You were worried about him. The last time you'd seen him was a few days ago, when he stormed off after a screaming match with Deran at his bar. You hadn't heard any of the exchange, but Deran made sure to bitch about it with you after the fact. Knowing that Andrew had shown such concern for you touched you, but you didn't let your hopes up too much. You knew he was with Amy, which was probably where he was at this moment.

You'd seen him walk away from the job to hook up with her, had seen how giddy she'd been to drag him away, how he looked to you and pleaded silently to let him have this. Or at least that was the impression he gave you. And it'd been enough to make your stomach churn for weeks afterwards, having to think about him with someone else.

It's not like Andrew was yours. He had never been yours. Not in the year you knew of him, not in the months you'd actually known him, much less in the weeks he'd been infatuated by Amy.

It was pathetic to think about, but you'd fallen for a guy you barely knew. His sad eyes implanted themselves in your heart, taking a home there and making it impossible for you to function without thinking about him. You still held some stupid hope that things with Amy wouldn't work out, that you'd have your chance. But you were just being an idiot.

Then you got that text.

You'd tried to go take care of Lena, but Lucy beat you to it, taking her to some room with a promise of some games on her iPad, leaving you to wander around the house as you watched people fool around. It was a terrible environment for her, but you couldn't go against her dad's wishes, so you silently hoped she'd be fine. Which was when the text interrupted your stream of consciousness.

I'm sorry

It was ominous, making your heart drop immediately.

Andrew rarely ever texted you. There'd been a 'Good morning' once, a few 'I'm dropping off Lena at the bar. Are you there?' but never anything other than that. It made you rush to find Deran, dialing Andrew's phone at the same time as you did, but receiving no form of response.

Was he with Amy? Maybe she'd know where he was. And where the hell was Baz? Did he go looking for him? What if this had anything to do with Smurf?

A million thoughts clouded your brain, eyes foggy due to the tears already building up. Andrew was a volatile person, careless about his own safety, no matter how much everything he did was driven by love for his family. He didn't share any of that love with himself, something no one really acknowledged much.

You were frantic as you ran to Deran, pulling him away from some stupid drinking game he'd been playing with Craig.

With concern, he pulled you aside, sobering up at just seeing your current state.

"Hey, hey. What happened?"

"An-Andrew. He texted me. I need to find him. Where is he? Is he with Baz? Deran, I need to find him. He won't pick up. He won't-"

You babbled, making no sense to Deran, but you kept going on and on, hyperventilating as your shaky hands kept pressing Andrew's contact, texting misspelled pleas to him in a frantic attempt to reach him.

Before Deran could try and make sense of your babbles, a commotion called all your attentions. Someone screamed "Lena, wait!" and it had you running to the driveway.

There, you found Lena, tripped over and a man picking her up from where she'd fallen from her toy ATV. Apparently, Lucy had neglected her, leaving her behind and causing her to go wandering around the house in search of a familiar face. When she didn't, she went to play on her bike, not noticing a car backing up and being pushed out of the way by some partygoer. Thankfully, J and Nicky had been nearby, taking care of her and calling Andrew in the process.

You calmed yourself down and sat with her, sighing in relief at hearing Andrew on the other side of the line as he spoke to Lena. You let J and Nicky get back to partying, staying with Lena on the driveway as you waited for Andrew to arrive. Some tears still dampened your cheeks, but you comforted Lena instead of yourself, making sure her scrapes were taken care of properly.

By the time Andrew arrived, he found you there with Lena, cuddled up against the garage door at the entrance of the driveway. He marched towards you, fuming at the party he found at his house. His eyes softened when he reached you, finally meeting your eyes and frowning at Lena asleep on your lap.

"Andrew-" you sighed.

"I'll be- I'll be right back, okay?"

You nodded, eyes still watery as you looked up at him.

It was a silent agreement that you needed to talk.

You grabbed Lena as Andrew stormed into the house, perching her on your arm and taking her passed-out form over to Smurf's room so she could sleep in there. You had to kick out two drunk girls making out, but you were mad enough at that moment they didn't question the angry look on your face.

Outside you could hear Andrew's scream as he kicked everyone out, closing the door behind you as you stepped outside and found him standing there with his shotgun while people ran off.

Baz arrived and a short argument ensued. You stood on the sidelines, eyeing Baz with disdain at the way in which he'd left Lena alone in such a dangerous environment, equally as mad at his brothers for not stepping in and taking her away from Lucy.

The big reveal that Smurf was in jail went over your head. You didn't care about Smurf. Not now, not ever. You cared about Deran, about Andrew, maybe now about Craig to a fair extent. Everyone else was on your shitlist for the time being.

Everyone dispersed after that, all while you stood there, at the door as you waited for everyone to leave. Deran kissed your cheek as he walked over to some empty room, with his own now being J's. Andrew remained there, pensive and looking down at the pool, his back facing you.

Taking a few steps forward, you stood behind him, a good foot distance between you. You cleared your throat, making his face turn towards you, his body following suit as he now stood face to face in front of you.

You were angry, livid, even. Your demeanor may not have shown it, but you had never been angrier in your life.

There had been a good fifteen minutes in there in which you thought Andrew hadn't made it. That his thoughts had taken over and that he'd let all the shit in his life win and take him away from you before you could even get him.

"I'm sorry."

The same words he'd texted you. The ones that you understood upon first sight, and the ones that were meant to be his final.

"How could you- how could you fucking do that to me?"

He said your name, defeated, but you interrupted, taking a few steps forward.

"What, you shut me out for weeks, run off with your- your girlfriend, and then you disappear on me? You try to fucking- to ... you'd really do that to me?" you cried, not willing yourself to say the words. "What did I ever do to you?"

That's when the dam broke, when your hands went up to your eyes, covering them as you hunched over and cried into them. But it didn't last long. Not when a sturdy body came to hold you against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you and head of curls burying itself in the crook of your neck as he let out some quiet sobs of his own.

You weren't sure how long you embraced each other by the pool, but by the time Andrew led you back into his room, you were spent, cheeks damp with dry tears and throat sore. He led you by your hand, grasping it for the first time ever and sitting you on his bed while he silently went over to his closet and grabbed some spare clothes, checking to see if the connective bathroom was empty before leading you in there and closing the door behind you.

Numb, you changed your clothes, accepting his silent plea for silence for the time being.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew stood there, dumbfounded. He was breathless, hand dragging down his face to try and clear his thoughts from tonight.

It was all clouding his head. The whole thing with Amy was the last thing on his mind. He was thinking about Lena, Baz, Smurf, you. You were ringing in his head, you in his bathroom, changing into his clothes, crying for his safety, furious at the risk he'd put himself in, at the final goodbye he'd given you.

When you walked out, his shirt swallowed you, his boxers hugged your legs, barely visible under the length of the shirt. Your makeup was runny, leaving small tracks due to the tears that had streamed down your face.

There was a blank look on your face as he stood there, directly in front of you.

Slowly, you closed the bathroom door from behind you, taking a few steps forward and meeting him there.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but you interrupted him, hands engulfing his jaw and pulling him into you, mouth open as it received his.

Groaning into your lips, he pulled you closer, opening his mouth to let your tongue in and chasing it with his own. His hands traveled down to your waist, hugging you to him as you moaned into his lips.

Everything was fuzzy now, all thoughts gone and your warmth being the only thing on his mind. Your bodies molding together was enough to have him gasping into your mouth. You felt perfect against him, the perfect fit as you pushed your hips into his own, walking him back into his bed and settling on his lap.

There, you pressed up against him, hands on his shoulders as your hips rolled on his. He hissed, gripping your thighs and attempting to match your movements, helping your rhythm against him.

He licked into your mouth, sighing when he'd catch your tongue and you'd wrap it around his, sucking at it, making his eyes roll back. Your moans were swallowed by him, with his whimpers swallowed by you in return. A string of saliva formed any time your lips would separate to start a brand new kiss, but Andrew couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted your every fluid to be his, wanted to meld into you.

Antsy hands pulled at his clothes, silently begging for their removal, whining when he helped you take them off, feeling the warm skin underneath.

"Andrew ..." you looked at him, eyes hooded, biting your lip with a look in your eyes Andrew had never seen before.

"Yeah?" he whispered, lips hovering over yours.

Your hands dragged softly up and down his bare chest, scratching at his pecs lightly before pushing him down to lay flat on the bed.

"Look at you ... Fuck, Andrew ..."

You didn't explain yourself further, kissing him with need again and taking his breath away once more.

His own hands itched to get your clothes off, sneaking under the shirt he'd given you and feeling the bare skin there. You were the softest thing he'd ever felt, and as his hands silently begged to reach higher, to round your torso and find the mounds of your breasts, you ripped away to pull your shirt off, grabbing his hands and placing them there yourself.

"Touch me." you breathed, licking his lips. "I want your hands on me, Andrew."

Andrew undressed you, ripping off his own boxers off of you before he fully undressed himself. It was awkward, as he refused to create any space between you as he did so, but in the end he had you straddling him, wet and leaking all over his lap all while you whined his name into his lips.

His eyes trailed down, huffing a heavy breath at the sight of you nude on his lap, skin ready for the taking. He kissed his way down, low enough to reach your breasts, nudge them with his nose, trap your nipples in his lips and pull at them with his teeth.

The noises you made had him lightheaded, made him unsure if he could keep going without fully losing his mind.

Hesitant, his hands trailed down your back, gripping your ass and bringing you closer. You rolled your hips into his, sucking his tongue when his mouth opened with a sigh of your name.

When he tried to reach between you, get his fingers soaked in between your legs, you stopped him, grunting into his mouth and pushing him down the bed once more. Instead, your hand snuck in the space between you, taking hold of his hardness and swallowing every cry that left his lips.

"Please." he whimpered.

You worked him in your hand, jerking him while your lips trailed down his chest, sucking marks there without a care. He shook under you, shuddering at every bite, every suck, every soothing lick.

This was new to him. He'd had sex before, many times. Sometimes he'd open the door to some hooker sent by Smurf, taking out his frustrations on the unsuspecting woman. Other times it'd be Baz fronting the payment for a stripper doing extra services at the strip club downtown. And on very rare occasions, it'd be someone he actually liked, only to realize afterwards that it hadn't been what he'd made it out to be in his head.

You, though ... You were the first time he'd ever had a taste of solace. You were the first time Andrew had a girl he was crazy about, one that enjoyed the crazy, shuddered over it when he'd pinch at your nipple, when his teeth graced at the lobe of your ear, when he'd groan your name at your touch.

And when you lifted yourself up, his dick still in your hand, soaked with precum, you cried his name, shameless in it as you sunk down on him, arching your back, chest pressed onto his and mouth agape in sheer pleasure.

Not once had he ever felt like this. Pleasure had always been transactional, a quick fix for the mental turmoil always invading him. But with you, with your body ground against his, shuddering at every bounce of your hips, sighing out his name like it was the only word you knew, with you he felt like there was no consequence to the pleasure. It was free, all for him to take, for him to be selfish for once and keep all for himself.

"Andrew, oh, fuck, An-Andrew." your head dropped back, and Andrew watched you, groaning your name in return and refusing to close his eyes, damned if he was going to miss a single second of your pleasure.

You were tight around him, squeezing him whenever he'd make a sound, rewarding him for his pleasure. You wanted him loud, wanted him making noise for you, letting you know how much of him you owned at that moment (and always, he'd decided).

And he wanted to give it to you, to give back from everything you'd given him thus far.

With his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, he rolled you over, hovering over you and caging you with his body. The squeal you let out would've usually worried him, with the rest of the family being around and all, but then you gripped at the muscle of his back, insisting on getting him closer. Because skin to skin just didn't seem like enough for you. No, you wanted him deep within you, a concept Andrew could not understand, but quickly grew addicted to.

Sooner than he'd hoped, he felt himself about to bust, frustrated at how good you felt, how perfectly you gripped him and cried his name as if he was the only thing you'd ever wanted.

Again, he reached between you, fingers crawling their way between your legs, at that hidden spot that had your legs tightening around his waist, your gasps more breathless and your nails leaving red lines down his back. Thumbing at your clit, he got your there, got you whining his name, a warning of your impending orgasm, the one that had him biting your shoulder in pure bliss.

"Come, fuck. Andrew, please." you cried. "Inside, want- want it inside."

He made a mess between you, grunting at every thrust as he filled you up, forcing every drop deep within you, wanting himself buried as deep as humanly possible. He wanted to morph into you, wanted to keep himself in you, safe and away from anyone else he could ever hurt.

Because with you, inside your warmth, he could never hurt anyone. All he could do was make you feel good, make you cry his name in a way no one ever had before.

When he pulled away, you sighed his name one last time, kissing at him, refusing to let him pull away too far. You kept him as close as possible, shrugging him off when he offered to clean you up, to clean the bed from the mess you'd created togethet.

You told him, later. Right now you still wanted him, still wanted him in your arms and to feel his warm skin against your own. To kiss him and hold him and remind him how much you cared about him, in a way you'd never cared about anyone before.

And Andrew didn't know what to do with that, what to say or how to feel. He didn't understand how this could be real, wanted to keep his guard up just in case the rug was about to be pulled from under him.

But for now he held you back, returning your kisses, kneading your skin extra soft any time you'd tell him something that had his heart pumping too fast for comfort.

-

You laid in silence for a while, hands refusing to leave the other's body. No word of everything that'd happened was brought up, not until you broke that comfortable silence.

"Andrew ... What about Amy?"

He sighed. "There's no more Amy. There ... there never should've been."

You made a questioning noise, urging him to explain, but keeping your head on his chest, hands still running up and down its expanse with a softness he'd never grown familiar with.

"I was always thinking about you. I couldn't- couldn't get you out of my head."

"Me neither." you mumbled with a kiss to his pec.

A beat of silence.

"I'm sorry about the lock. It was my job, I should've-"

"It's okay, Andrew. I understand."

His hand on your hip trailed lower, pulling your leg further up his waist and pulling you even closer to him.

"And ... I'm sorry about that message."

You blinked a few wet tears before responding, sniffling and causing him to intake a breath. He didn't really wanna talk about it, but he'd fucked up so many things already by not talking to you. He had to rip off every band-aid right now, no matter how you'd look at him after the fact. He wasn't willing to keep anything from you anymore, having already made the two of you miserable with his constant stream of silence towards you.

Even if you looked at him the same way Amy had, he wouldn't hurt you anymore. He'd seek your understanding, but would accept if you feared him in the same way most others had.

"I was worried about you." you responded, quiet, meek. "I don't know what I'd do if you left."

You brought him down to your eye level, hand running through his curls and lips pecking his nose, then his chin, sad eyes staring into his matching ones.

"I love you, Andrew. I need you around for a long time."

His breath caught in his throat, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Fingers tightened around your skin, holding you against him, pulling you into him as much as he could, itching to get you under his skin, to attach you to him and never let anything come between you ever again.

Burying his head in your neck, he kissed you there, shameless in breathing in your scent and nuzzling his nose into the skin there, sighing when you pulled him closer by the back of his neck, mumbling a few other 'i love you's while he was still processing the first one.

"I love you too." he finally mumbled, repeating it a couple more times, wrapping himself around you, shuffling as he tried and failed to enter your skin, needing to fit in there, keep himself warm and safe within you.

The two of you stayed awake for hours, held each other with the tenderest of holds. It was unlike anything Andrew had ever felt before. Every touch of yours he received was full of silent affection. Each touch carried a thousand words that reaffirmed your feelings for him, and he felt secure in every single one. There was no doubt in his mind at that moment that you loved him, that you might've been the first one to actually do so.

He cried in your arms at some point, drawing tears from your eyes too when you caught wind of his whimpers. But you held him through it all, not pushing him to talk, instead uttering words of comfort, many of which he'd heard from Smurf in the past. Before you, he might've felt himself desensitized to such words, but he found comfort in anything you did.

But then he remembered what had happened with Amy, what thoughts had been plaguing his mind before he braved his way to her doorstep, opening himself up more than he ever had before and finding himself kicked out, feeling like a heinous beast as he sat there and cried to himself. Memories of you flooded his head, the way in which he wondered if you'd accept him, if he should've been at your doorstep instead, if you loved Deran in the way he envied to be loved by you.

As afraid as he was of your rejection, knowing it'd drive him right back to that pier, gun to his head out of his own volition, he needed to know. Would you love him despite being the monster everyone believed him to be? Even his brothers were afraid of him, using him as a threat to anyone who dared cross them.

You were the only person who only ever looked at him with love (and sometimes with hurt, caused by his cowardice). Julia had been the only other person with genuine concern in her eyes any time his lips curled downward, never assuming the worst in him like his other siblings did.

"I need to tell you something." he whispered into the night.

You were still awake, fingers still tracing one or other part of his body, seemingly unable to get their fill of his skin beneath them.

"Yeah?" it was almost whispered.

"Do you- do you believe in forgiveness?"

You nodded against him.

"Even if you can't take back what you did?"

You nodded again, mumbling 'yes' as you pecked his skin, light as a feather.

"I ... I hurt someone I loved once." he began. His fingers ran down your back, already in love with its curve, recalling how it felt to reach the end of that curve and pull your middle against his own.

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"She was my first love. She- she was Lena's mom."

He knew this detail only made it all the worse, it only made him the man who took away Lena's mother, took her space in Lena's life and took on the responsibility to repent over it for the rest of their lives.

"Cath?" you asked, still hushed.

"Yeah. I ... I hurt her. Smurf told me to, so I did."

His voice broke towards the end, but he didn't let himself cry just yet. Your hands were still playing with his skin. Your body hadn't stiffened, your occasional pecks on his chest hadn't seized.

"Do you regret it?" you asked, pulling him closer, something incomprehensible to Andrew.

"Every day."

You were silent for a moment, silent and pensive, making Andrew's heart halt. His breath followed along, seizing its flow of oxygen as he waited for the other shoe to drop, waited to kiss this moment goodbye and part ways with the never ending comfort you gave him.

"I forgive you, Andrew." you mumbled after a minute.

He stayed silent. Silent as he rolled to his side, rolling you along with him and allowed you to take his head and burrow it in your chest. Your breasts cushioned his face, your heartbeat right against him and your hair shielding you both. He breathed deeply against you, shaky air leaving him as he exhaled.

"If you can't forgive yourself, I'll forgive you." you continued.

He sobbed then, sobbed into your chest, only whimpering louder when you pressed him even closer to you, shushing him with reassurances, crying with him when he thanked you, when he continued to beg for forgiveness, only to receive it every single time he asked.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew promised you honesty that night. He'd woken up again in the midst of the night, with you still in his arms, asleep, trusting of the protection you'd receive as he held you, and he promised himself he would never let anything get in between you.

And so when you woke up a few hours later, still too early to get up, Andrew kissed you. He hovered over you as he sheathed himself inside you once more, groaning at how perfectly you wrapped around him and how your nails raked down his back.

You sighed, cried, whined his name, eventually being quietened by his lips on yours, by his tongue in your mouth.

In between thrusts, he whimpered into your mouth, promising to keep you safe, to never let anything get between you, to entrust you with everything, but to keep you safe all the while.

So when he made his plan with Lena the following morning, he decided to share it with you, to let you in on it, to entrust you with his life regardless of any consequences.

"You're what?"

"I need- I need to make sure Lena's set. With Smurf gone, with Cath gone, she has no one. Baz sure as hell isn't thinking about her."

You were still in his room. He'd already talked to Baz, telling him he'd take Lena out for breakfast, when what he really meant to do was go check on the trust fund he'd set up for Lena. He'd go hit a few banks after that, some quick jobs that'd get her numbers as high as he could.

Understandably, you showed concern, eyes widening and hands pressed to his chest, shaking your head in denial.

"Andrew, there's better ways. What about last time? What if they get you again?"

He appreciated your concern, hands trailing down your arms and grabbing onto your hands, pressing one up to his nose, inhaling its scent, kissing the back of it.

"This is the life." he explained. "This is what I've been doing since I was a kid. This is how I've lived, how I'll die. If it's too much, I understand."

But you shook your head.

"No. If I can take it from Deran, I can take it from you. Just ... stay safe, okay? Come back home."

Some tears welled in your eyes, but not enough to cry for the fourth time in the past day.

When he came back again later that day, you ran to him, welcoming him in the driveway, a hug and a kiss being delivered to him immediately upon his arrival. He held you, kissing your hair and walking inside with you, telling you about how it all went, almost smiling as you commended him for taking care of his niece, for being the only person watching out for her, for being the father she'd never had with Baz.

"I'm gonna go see Smurf." he told you after a while. "Taking Lena with me, so she can say goodbye."

"You don't think she's getting out?"

He shook his head. "I'll make sure she doesn't."

Nodding pensively, you squeezed his hand.

"Wanna go meet her?"

He was joking. It was rare for him to do so, but he chuckled anyways when you pushed at his shoulder teasingly, telling him to shut up.

"You good spending the day with Lena today? Baz's gone. Don't know where he went."

"Yeah. 'Course."

-

You spent most of the day with Andrew and Lena, having to clean up after the boys now that Smurf was gone.

It was domestic, cooking with Andrew, cleaning up the kitchen, dropping off Lena and then picking her back up. When Deran walked into the kitchen and found you laughing with Andrew, with him shyly looking down any time you giggled, he gave you a look, tilting his head in curiosity but not questioning it further.

It wasn't til later, when Andrew dropped you off at the bar for your shift that he actually cornered you, Craig trailing behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So, Pope?"

Scoffing, you walked past him, heading to the back to drop off your bag. Unsurprisingly, both guys followed you, cornering you again.

"What about him?"

"What, you two dating now?"

"Nah, man, that shit this morning looked too domestic. They've probably eloped by now." Craig interrupted, amused by it all.

Deran ignored him. "When'd this happen?"

"It's been happening since you introduced us. Just, uh, made it official yesterday."

"What about that Amy girl?"

You eyed Craig. "What about her?"

He lifted his hands in surrender, using one hand to do the zipping motion over his lips. "Never mind, then."

"You good with this?" you turned to Deran, walking past him and heading back inside after putting your stuff in your locker. Again, they followed you, too nosy not to.

He leaned against the outside of the bar when you made your way to your usual station, furrowing his brows at you.

"He treating you good?"

"What, never seen Andrew with a girlfriend before?"

"Andrew~" Craig mocked, chuckling when you gave him the finger.

"No. Actually, no. You're the first. After Amy, of course."

You looked at him, annoyed.

"Sore subject?"

"Are you gonna be against this, Deran? We've practically exchanged vows. It's a set thing."

He frowned in contemplation, smiling after, knowing his smile would always bring one in you and then giving you one of those 'I told you so' looks. He knew you weren't mad at his prodding. It was that brotherly overprotection he'd had over you since he met you.

"I'm happy for you. If anyone'll treat you good out of all my brothers, it's Pope."

"I'm right here." Craig scoffed lightly, but you and Deran told him to shut up in unison.

-

Halfway through your workday, Andrew showed up, finding the three of you moving stuff to the back, with some temp bartender temporarily manning the fort. Craig lifted the heavy shit while you and Deran made order of it, stacking barrels of beer out of reach of the customers.

When you spotted Andrew, you skipped to him, childish in doing so, but in that honeymoon phase that made it so you couldn't hold back on the whimsy.

He pecked your lips, but he was distracted, looking at his brothers behind you after muttering a quiet 'sorry' to you.

"Have you heard from Baz?" he asked his brothers.

"What? Why?"

"Shit might be going down."

"What shit?" you asked, concerned, arms wrapped around his one arm and looking at him.

The brothers put aside the stuff they were doing, Craig sitting on one of the larger barrels and giving Pope his undivided attention and Deran looking to you with concern.

Andrew hesitated before speaking, looking to you before looking back to Deran.

"If something happens to me, will you look after Lena?"

Deran stood there, anxious look in his eyes. His eyes found yours, matching your concern, not answering Andrew's question just yet.

"Hey." he called his attention again. "I need an answer. If something happens to me, will you look after Lena? Yes or no?"

He took a step towards Deran, intense. You stood to his peripherical now, slightly behind him.

"Yeah, of course."

Craig remained quiet, halting his moves as he went to light a cigarette.

Andrew's head nodded towards you, eyes still on Deran. "What about her?" he said, referring to you.

"I'll always take care of her. You know that." Deran answered.

Andrew stepped forward again, hand patting Deran's shoulder in a silent thank you before walking his way back to where he entered from.

Without saying another word, you followed behind him, looking at the boys with worry and nodding back at Deran when he silently asked you to go check on his brother.

Rushing behind him, you caught Andrew before he could enter his truck, grabbing onto his arm and calling out his name.

"Andrew, what the hell is going on? Is this about the banks?"

He shook his head, intense eyes looking anywhere but at you. It looked like he wasn't fully there, like whatever was going on occupying his mind way too much for him to really acknowledge you.

"It's nothing, just- just gotta go talk to Baz."

That almost made you jump, remembering last night, when Andrew whispered his confession to you, crying in your arms when you'd accepted it, when you'd forgiven him for something you really had no business forgiving.

"Is it about-"

"Yeah." he interrupted, finally looking into your eyes.

It was about Cath.

Baz knew. You were certain of it. And you knew it was probably Smurf's doing.

Tensions were high, specially after that family meeting. You hadn't been in it, not deemed close enough to listen in on it, being made to wait outside with Nicky and Lucy as they talked about whatever was going on with Smurf, how she'd gotten arrested, why, and what they'd do now that she was gone.

You'd been happy about her absence, aware of the way she'd treated Deran growing up, what she'd done to all her sons, to Julia. Her treatment of Andrew was what made you the most furious, and you hadn't even heard the brunt of it all.

Andrew filled you in on it all afterwards, just before he drove you and Lena to breakfast and took off for his serial bank heists. He had told you about Baz's shady behavior, about the set up of Javi's death that had gotten Smurf framed for

He stepped towards you, pulling you in to kiss your hair, eyes deep and zeroing in on yours.

"If anything happens, I need you to take care of Lena, okay? With Deran."

Your eyes clouded with tears again, already forming and obstructing your vision of the man who appeared to be their cause time and time again. Shaking your head petulantly, you gripped at his hands, muttering 'no no no' over and over again, unwilling to accept this.

His shoulders slouched, bringing you closer to him. Nuzzling his way into the crook of your neck, he breathed you in, a habit you were getting used to.

"I'm sorry. I love you." he said into your skin, wincing against you when all those words caused were a choked sob.

"Can I come with you?" you whispered uselessly. You knew the answer.

He didn't reply, instead holding you in silence for a long while, taking up the space on the sidewalk but not caring to move when people walked by. Patting on your back, he consoled you (and himself), but you couldn't stop crying anyway.

"Come back to me, okay?" you asked when you pulled away.

All he could do was nod sadly, giving you one last kiss before getting into his car.

➽──────────────────❥

You hadn't been there for whatever it was that went down between Baz and Andrew. All you knew was that you went back into the bar, sobbing, a complete mess that both Deran and Craig had to take care of.

In the entire time Deran had known you, you'd never once cried in front of him. He always saw you as a hard egg to crack, sometimes reminding him of his brother in the way in which you could intimidate people with just one off-putting look. You reserved your emotions for friends, smiling, laughing, only when around those you loved. But crying? That had been new to Deran up until the point you met Pope.

But he understood. He was the same way about Adrian, so he didn't judge you when you walked back in, crying and refusing to tell him what was going on, instead pleading with him that you'd take care of Lena together if anything happened.

You calmed down after a while, going back to the Cody house after a very short shift (cut early since Deran was worried about you).

You waited in Andrew's room, not checking your phone, knowing he wouldn't call, that he was more the type to show up, to appear when you least expected it.

And again, you cried when he showed up again, tears welling his own eyes and chest heaving as he sobbed his way into his bedroom, finding you sitting on his bed waiting for him.

In between sobs, he explained the situation to you, mumbling something about his promise to stay honest to you, crying that he'd talked to Baz, had begged him to kill him, to take him out of his misery. He apologized to you when that caused you to cry his name. He continued, telling you about how Baz held him close, promised he'd always protect him, that he'd always forgive him because he knew none of this was his fault. That he knew he loved Cath, that he knew how much he loved him and Lena and how he'd take care of everything for him. He told him that he was his brother and that he'd protect him even after what he did, that he knew he now had you to take care of, that he wasn't going to let Smurf poison the waters between them.

When he calmed down, you continued to hold him, thanking Baz in your head, making a mental note to do so in person next time you saw him.

Maybe you'd read him wrong. Maybe he was the brother who cared most about your Andrew.

"You never do that to me again, do you understand?" you scolded Andrew after a while, hushed, not meant to put him down, but to express the fury that came hand in hand for the fear for his safety.

He sat up from his spot on your lap, grabbing your wrist and bringing you closer.

"I won't." he promised, but you both knew it was a lie.

"Thank you. For taking care of me." he said after some silence, foreheads pressed against each other, breaths shared.

"I always will. I love you."

He didn't respond verbally, but by kissing you again, by sighing into your mouth when you responded with no hesitation.

The two of you became enraptured in each other again, locking lips and letting your hands wander. Tears were still drying on your cheeks, but still, you pulled him closer, moaning when his hands trailed to the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you and wrapping you around his waist before he laid you back down on the bed.

Undressing each other came naturally by now, not requiring much practice. And every freed inch of skin meant yet another inch for Andrew to explore, fingers scratching at the soft skin, digging his fingers in, lips itching to kiss that same skin, but being too overtaken by your mouth.

He fucked you then. It started soft, full of worry, more passionate than he'd ever felt before. But his need for you took over after the third sigh of his name against his ear. He hovered over you, grabbing your legs and holding them up, open for him as he knelt on the bed and fucked into you.

Again and again, he told you he loved you in between grunts. It was unusual for him to be this expressive, to speak this much, but having you there for him, waiting, worrying for him and letting him do as he wished with you as soon as his eyes laid on you, it made him malfunction, made him let go in a way he'd never been allowed to before.

"Thank you for coming home." you sighed as you came, dragging him straight down with you.

"I always will." he repeated your earlier words, arm extended out so you could cuddle yourself under it.

Andrew felt at ease while he laid there with you.

Smurf was in jail, the Cath thing was out of the bag, he still wasn't sure if he could trust J, wasn't sure what would happen with Lena now that Baz was supposed to leave town. But at that moment, he laid with you there, sure of one thing — you were his to keep.

The following day he'd find out about what happened to Baz, a brand new can of worms breaking into the very short moment of peace he had while he had you in his arms. The next day, he'd have to go back to dealing with Smurf, to figure out how to take care of Lena, but at least now he had someone to carry some of the brunt with him.

➽──────────────────❥

next

series masterlist