the fragility of life & the fierceness of love

He’d known, if he lived long enough, that there would be fallout. He did – a few years ago, yes, and with very good reasons behind it, and motivation absolutely does not change what happened – steal and damage millions of dollars worth of government property. The suits do not care about the weird shit; the suits have spreadsheets and the suits barely understand how anything relevant got funded, and there are more than enough red flags in the current active timeline and-

What. Happened.

What happened, he suspects, was not the same experience the rest of the team had. He has no reason to believe that any of them pissed off any FBI agents, let alone the rest of the alphabet or an agency even he hadn’t heard of before the interrogation line dance he’s spent the past month experiencing and he was supposed to know all of this stuff before, in another life he would've been on the other side of those tables but he’s in this one and it hasn’t been kind to him in a few places and-

“Probably the same things that happened to you," he says instead of any of that, because he’s given his partner enough weight to carry without what he really hopes will be the last chapter.

She gets her hands around his neck and there are times he can almost forget how comparatively small she is. Times like these, when he can feel the fire radiating off her, when he can forget that it’s been a month since he’s gotten to hold her and he’s surprised it was only a month and-

"You're leaving something out," she breathes. “I don’t… I’m not afraid of the truth.”

“I’m here now. Is that not enough?”

He knows it isn’t. He knows her better than that. He also knows that this is no place for frustration, this conference room in some federal building he suspects is bugged to the gills. He wants to think she knows that too, but he can never be sure with her, and-

“That’s still not an answer.”

“I can’t yet.”

“That bad?”

“That bad.”

They’d given him offers. Ways to start a new life without losing everything. For all his… creative decisions, he’s decided is a tactful way to put it, he did end up being right, and that’s the kind of judgement that buys a little leverage even when he otherwise shouldn't have any. That suicidal conviction mixed with the combination of languages he speaks makes for an obvious enough intelligence asset, and yet-

He’d turned the all down, as politely as possible. Yes, he is aware that it won't be easier for him in the civilian world, and he is aware that this decision limits what supports are available to him, and he is aware of every possible relevant statistic, and-

The reason for his current judgment is currently staring up at him, waiting for answers he won't give for years yet, and that’s the deepest part of all. She’s worth the potential difficulties. She will land on her feet, he’s sure of it, and he will follow, and that’s the scary part, what he may or may not want does not matter as long as he stays with her and-

“What now?”

“Whatever you want.”

“Are you sure?”

Her partner has different baselines. Her partner, just a few years ago, would've had an entirely different reaction to a guest list that includes three werewolves, a potential druid, and… honestly, Scott isn’t sure what his lab partner’s girlfriend is and that’s why that kid is along for the ride here, in the hope that being around a few people with more experience will sort out the symptoms she’s having and-

“Which part?”

“Going back to… I know it’s not how it was, at least not yet it isn’t, but-”

“We’re different people now. Maybe the rest of the world catches up.”

Not that it’s been quiet. They’re both human, yes, but word travels fast with supernatural creatures, and the existence of a human medic who knows about and respects the wild world may have become the area’s biggest selling point, and-

“Mystery kid definitely has something to do with water, right?”

“I’m thinking we set up the kiddie pool in the living room and see what happens.”

“Bathtub would work. Easier.”

“We don't know what she'll turn into. How much space she’ll need.”

Chris gives her a feather of a kiss on the forehead. "You think about different things.”

“Different biases. I’ve always wanted to be helpful.”

It could hit wrong, but it doesn't. Neither of them is particularly broody right now. It’s Melissa's last day off before it’s not just them in the house for a month, and they’re trying to enjoy that, and-

“We have a kiddie pool?”

“Yeah, in the garage. One of those thick plastic ones. It’s done nothing but collect cobwebs for ten years, but-”

“So I’ll need to spray that down.”

“I can use a hose.”

They both know he'll end up doing that. They both know he’ll figure out the logistics of indoor activities that most people would never consider as indoor activities, and she’ll stay out of the way until something gets wrong because this isn’t her world in the same way it’s his or the same way it’s anyone else she loves’, and somehow it will all turn out okay because it always does, and-

“That the only mystery houseguest?"

“This time, yes.”

“Nothing else…"

“Not that I'm aware of.”

The kids’ last day of fall semester is tomorrow. They’ll take a few days to gather their stuff, and then they'll descend. The known body count is just the ones Melissa knows will be under her roof; there may be others, Lydia has some curiosities about a sorority sister so that may be a thing in some form, and-