I cannot live without my soul

Cas had always hated rain.

Before, when he was still a kid, it’d mean his father had withdrawn to the house, shooed inside by the weather. The drizzle clung to him, an extra layer of irritability slicked on top of an already volatile man. Like a mist of motor oil and gunpowder.

Later, it had meant nights with little sleep, hunched in doorways, or park benches, or, when he was lucky, the cramped space between the men’s shoe store and the thrift shop on 48th. It meant waking with wet shoes and fever sinking into his underfed bones.

Now? Gabriel and Luca warming his apartment with their light and laughter? The rain outside was almost comforting. Homely.

He’d never really thought of himself as being particularly attached to his apartment, but seeing it as it was now, plucked apart around him and gently dismantled by loving hands, Cas saw the echoes of himself spelled out over the years.

The broken, old skateboard he’d bought second-hand when he’d first started going to Crimson Beech High. He'd nearly run Margo over doing kick-flips in the parking lot. She’d shoved him off and snapped it clean in two without ever breaking eye contact, and right then, Cas had known they’d become great friends.

The box of illegal fireworks he’d bought with Rory that one 4th of July weekend. The prick had chased him with a Roman candle, shooting shell after crackling shell of brightly coloured explosion at his ass, cackling like a maniac all the while. Cas had ducked and weaved and laughed his ass off, the vampirism freshly-settled in his cells giving him speed enough to avoid each searing, galaxy burst. The lights had danced against the water over Montworth Bridge; Cas watched on through eyes of silver, knowing he had never seen fireworks even half as beautiful before.

There was a compact of metallic eyeshadow —the first he’d ever bought— far from striking range of his father’s fists and curious about his hitherto quiet and unexplored bisexuality. Nicole Morelli, of all fucking people, had lounged with him in one of the Nexus common rooms and taught him to do a flawless cut-crease.

Cas’s venture into living in an apartment of his own, a place he could fill with stuff of his own, it was an open floor to find out more about himself. Sure, he’d lived in the Nexus in the years immediately after his turning, and he’d gone to ground for a while to let his old self truly die, but he hadn’t ceased to be a Venandi in all the time he’d slept.

The Venandi weekly stipend kept on rolling in. Astoria might be a hard ass at times, but she took damn good care of her kids. Even though he was still leery of relying too heavily on it —old habits die hard and all that— Cas had woken from his years-long slumber to find himself in possession of a damn healthy savings account.

So, he’d done what any young man thrust into sudden means would do, and bought a truly shitty car and paid his first months’ rent for his very own apartment.

Hair band posters. Glam rock and punk on blast. Hot pink eyeliner and fresh piercings that healed as he watched and his first pair of Docs with chains that rattled around his ankles with every swaggering step. Buckles, straps, hardware on every last scrap of clothing he could thrift. Patches and badges and eclectic pieces of fashion like that denim jacket New Kid had creamed their pants over. There was a time before Cas settled on his current aesthetic where his outfits all but screamed his sexuality with a stolen megaphone.

Once, he’d wondered what his old man would say if he could have seen him. He’d promptly decided he didn’t give a shit.

It didn’t matter that his old man didn’t get it. He hated Cas enough already, what did it matter if his son wasn’t straight on top of everything else? Honestly, Cas thought his father would have had less disdain if he’d just come out as gay instead of bi. It seemed to have pissed him off more that his kid was “halfway normal”.

As if Cas had had a girlfriend when he was fourteen, but when they broke up, he just up and decided he liked guys as well.

“Just because”.

Like he’d had a chance to be a “real man”, but he’d up and ruined it by liking guys, too. Because he wanted to act out, be a freak, piss off his old man on purpose.

Cas threw a shirt into a duffel bag with a snarl. Honestly, if his sexuality had been a choice, Cas would have chosen to be bi anyway, for that exact reason. Fucking prick.

He’d gone to Pride for the first time with Val one year, their cheekbones smeared with bi flag glitter, the bomber jacket he wore splattered with vibrant pinks and purples and blues. In the negative space on the back, it bore a giant middle finger.

That was how Cas felt about his bisexuality, sometimes.

He wore it loud, he wore it unapologetic… he wore it shirtless beneath his jacket, save for a harness biting tight across his pecs, and damn but it looked good on him.

He’d hooked up with a guy for the first time, that night. A mutual friend of Val and Remus on coven exchange from Morocco, who he’d gotten to know over shots and several hours grinding at some oversaturated neon club he’d long since forgotten the name of.

Cas swore he was still getting glitter out of his pubes a full year later.

…Totally worth it, though.

Eventually he pulled back from the sheer amount of colour in his wardrobe — it was easier to thrift edgier, streetwear fits in monochrome palettes, and besides, dyeing his hair scratched that particular itch. Now, if he wanted to to wear his sexuality so loud the homophobes choked, he had two fucking flawless boyfriends he could make out with in the middle of the street downtown.

‘What’s got you smirking?’ Luca asked, aiming a kick at his shins as he wandered past to grab the packing tape.

‘Oh, you know.’ Cas shrugged, batting him back with a feral grin. Luca squared up, laughing, bouncing on the balls of his feet. ‘Just thinking about sticking my tongue down your throat.’

‘Do it, coward.’

Luca launched a jab at Cas’s stomach. Cas let it connect, mostly because the butterfly-soft punches Luca threw when they didn’t have vampire blood in their system made him laugh, they were so fucking light. Cas juked to the left, grabbing Luca by the shoulder to tug them into a grapple, the line of their spine warm and fluid against his chest.

‘Keep talking shit and I might!’ Leaning down, Cas grazed his teeth along Luca's neck, nipping sharply, before he pulled them into a kiss.

He loved feeling his boyfriends smile when he kissed them, Cas thought, a satisfied growl warming the back of his throat. It made him want to burn down the world, just to keep them warm.

Cas’s apartment had been a place for him to just be, to become. Choi Taeyong was shoved aside and buried, surfacing only when the nightmares clutched him by the throat and he woke in a cold sweat, thrashing and tangled in his sheets as phantom, uncaring hands wrote the echo of bruises into his skin.

It hadn’t necessarily been a place of healing, Cas supposed, hauling a stack of towels from the storage closet to pad around a framed wall print of a Harley Davidson Gabriel was taking down from the wall. But it had been a place of refuge for him to get to know himself as an adult, with all his scars. Every facet of his identity. A place to find a version of himself he liked.

Gabriel groaned as he eyed the next art piece on the wall. He tugged it down, turning it over in his hands so Cas could read the words on the front of the warped metal.

“Evidence Locker”.

‘Tell me you didn’t steal this from the Sheriff’s Office,’ Gabriel said.

Cas grinned. ‘Alright. “I didn’t steal that from the Sheriff’s Office”.’

‘You’re supposed to tell the truth, not just regurgitate what I say!’

Cas dodged the sign as Gabriel lobbed it at him in exasperation, reaching for him and pulling him into a hug, just because he could.

‘Don’t think you can charm your way out of this,’ Gabriel chided, winding his arms around his waist.

‘I always do,’ Cas said, and bent his head to kiss him. Laughter, sunny and gold, burst against his lips.

Gabriel hummed happily. ‘What was that for?’ he asked. His tone might have been accusing, but Gabriel couldn't keep the smile from his face.

‘Mmm, advance payment for vacuuming later,’ Cas teased, and meant “because I love you”.

‘Menace.’ Chuckling, Gabriel tossed the sign into the trash pile.

Healing would come, Cas knew. And with Gabriel and Luca in his life, especially? He didn’t stand a chance of keeping the fractures in his soul locked up in the dark. Those two motherfuckers poured goodness into everything they touched, made them shine with love.

He’d be no different.

It had been a beautiful, sunny day and the sun cast a warm glow over the kitchen as Gabriela and Cas spent the whole morning baking a cake for Ripley. The sweet smell of vanilla filled the room, bringing her back to the times she’d helped her grandmother bake when she was a little girl. She whisked the buttercream for the topping while Cas stood at the other side of the counter, rummaging through a cupboard, searching for the chocolate chips Gabriela had sworn were laying around somewhere.

“I can’t find shit in here,” he complained, “you guys should clean this thing up.”

Gabriela scoffed. “You’re one to talk! If you struggle now, I don’t know how you ever find anything back in your room.” She always got overwhelmed by the mess the second she stepped inside.

She still couldn’t believe he’d agreed to team up with her to give Ripley a Valentine’s gift together. She was really glad he wanted to help, mind you. She knew it’d mean a lot to Ripley that they’d voluntarily worked together for her, without her asking them to. So did he, she knew that. 

Ripley cared a lot about the both of them. Of course Gabriela would rather have her all to herself. But it never felt like Ripley favoured one over the other, something she found both frustrating and admirable. Ripley had a lot of love to give and at the same time that was one of the many things she liked about her. Even if the other object of her affection happened to be Cas Harlow, of all people…

She definitely didn’t mind getting to boss him around all afternoon, though.

“Can you hand me the pink—” Her hand shot up to catch the little bottle of food colouring he threw at her. Predictably, he still pushed her buttons whenever the opportunity rose. Thank God for vampire reflexes, she thought.

Annoyed, she frowned at him. “I said hand, not throw.” 

“I knew you’d catch it, no need to cry, Adalhard.” He shrugged and smirked at her.

She rolled her eyes and decided not to argue with him any further.. they were almost done anyway. 

As she whisked the pink dye through the cream, her phone alarm started buzzing. The cake had cooled down enough for them to be able to add the filling. A few minutes ago Cas already wanted to get on with it, but she was very particular about following the instructions as accurately as possible, she really didn’t want to mess this up. She’d asked him to fetch the chocolate chips from the cupboard he was currently searching through—with increasing exasperation—knowing full well they probably weren’t in there. She just needed to keep him busy while waiting.

Cas slammed the cupboard shut. “Okay, fuck this shit.” 

“Careful! You’ll break the freaking door!”

He gasped. “Ooh, I almost got you to say fuck!”

He grabbed a knife and sat down at the dinner table to get started. He’d been surprisingly cooperative. And honestly, he turned out to be a lot better at baking than Ripley was. Not that that was a great feat, though. Amused, she chewed her lip, remembering the fiasco from a few weeks ago. Ripley had insisted on helping her out with the cupcakes for Jade’s birthday and somehow managed to mix up the sugar and salt. They only found out when they taste-tested their cupcakes after they got out of the oven. Ripley had still eaten two of them, refusing to throw them out, before she’d intervened.

Cas on the contrary, was pretty good at following her instructions, something she hadn’t really expected from him. Or not anymore, at least.

She glanced over her shoulder as he carefully cut the cake into three neat layers, brows furrowed in concentration. He was so clearly doing his best, she thought it was kind of cute. He really liked Ripley.

While brainstorming about their gift, they’d quickly agreed that they absolutely had to cook or bake something for her. It wasn’t even a question, Ripley loved to eat and she loved when you spent time making something for her.

But Cas thought that two people couldn’t just give one shared present. That’d be lame. And besides, a cake would be gone after a day. They had to give her something she could keep too. 

Since Ripley kept stealing his leather jackets, he thought they should give her one of her own. Not that that would keep her from borrowing his jackets, Gabriela thought. But something told her Cas wouldn’t mind anyway. 

She’d bought her a nice leather jacket and even helped him a bit with customizing it. He’d joked that she had to do her part too. He’d shown her how to apply spikes and studs on the jacket, and though she’d been nervous about messing up, she was happy with the end result of her work. 

On the back Cas had painted a beautiful picture of a werewolf howling at the moon in front of a starry blue sky that turned deep purple towards the bottom. She was amazed at how he’d managed to make its fur look so soft and real and how nicely the colours of the sky blended into each other.

She’d gasped in delight when he first showed it to her, not hiding how much she loved it. There was no way Ripley wouldn’t absolutely love it, it was so perfectly her.

Back when they—well, you know—he already enjoyed making art and he was very good at it too. Of course over the past three decades he’d only gotten better. She couldn’t even draw a stick figure so it really was something else to her. He’d still gotten shy in response to her compliments, just like he used to.

After finishing the buttercream she fetched the chocolate chips from a different cupboard and melted them down. They’d planned to put the melted chocolate on top and let it drip from the sides. While she applied the pink buttercream coat onto the cake, Cas watched a tutorial on YouTube on how to do the drip pattern. She couldn’t help but smile a little at how seriously he took it, though of course she appreciated it.

“Why are you making that face?” Cas narrowed his eyes and kicked her leg under the table.

She kicked him back. “I’m not making a face.”

Cas frowned as he looked up for a moment before he started pouring the chocolate into a piping bag. “Yeah you are and it pisses me off.” 

“I just think…” She was unsure if she should be honest or not. “I think it’s sweet that you’re doing your best for her so much.”

“Gross.” He grimaced and stood up from his chair so he could get started. “Okay now shut up for a sec, I need to focus on this…”

The drip pattern turned out great, to Gabriela’s delight. Now the part she was most scared to mess up, was behind them.

Together they further decorated the cake with more buttercream and chocolate. Once they were finally done, Gabriela was very happy with the end result, which was considerably better than she had expected.

She fetched her phone so she could take a picture of it. “She’s going to lose her mind when she sees this!”

“She better… I did not just spend hours working on a cake with you, for her to be like ‘Oh that looks nice I guess’,” he grumbled.

“But she wouldn’t do that.”

“No, she wouldn’t.” He smiled. 

She chuckled and looked up at him. “Thanks for doing this with me, Cas. You’ve been very good today.”

He grimaced. “I’ve been good? How old am I?”

As she started stacking the dirty bowls, Gabriela mumbled, “Forty-nine in a few weeks, if I’m not mistaken.”

Cas frowned and went silent, probably doing the maths in his head.

She chuckled and shook her head before glancing at the clock. “We still have about an hour and a half left before she’s done with her shift and you’re going to help me clean up this mess.” She motioned around the kitchen, both the dinner table and the kitchen counters full of dirty bowls and kitchenware.

Cas already moved towards the door to the hallway. “No way, I’m done helping for today.”

She shrugged. “That’s fine actually, you’d only slow me down anyway.”

She smirked when he immediately turned around and started gathering dirty utensils from the countertop. 

It took them a bit over an hour to clean the kitchen. They’d lost time bickering over how to load the dishwasher and dropped a glass bowl in the process, which also had to be cleaned up. So in the end he did slow her down. But she still preferred that over him leaving her to clean up by herself.

She put her hands on her hips as she glanced at the clock. “I’ll get dressed real quick and then we can leave.”

Cas protested as he glanced at the time on his phone, “Can’t we just leave now? You already look good.” 

The regret radiated off his face as he said ‘good’ but Gabriela decided not to tease him about it. “I’ll be done in five minutes!”

Cas sighed. “You better have gotten faster than when we, uh—” He cleared his throat, not wanting to finish the sentence. “I don’t wanna miss Buffy, I swear I’ll just leave without you!”

Gabriela was already running up the stairs when he was halfway through his sentence. 

She’d already laid out an outfit for today: white tights, a cutesy short pink dress with white lace accents and a cropped white knitted cardigan. She’d pair it with pink boots with small heels, making her a little bit taller. She braided two strands of hair and fastened them with a bow clip.

When she got down again, Cas was on the couch in the living room, absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. He sucked in a breath when he looked up at her, quiet enough that she wouldn’t have heard it, had she still been human. Quickly he turned his attention back to his phone and mumbled, “we’re just gonna hang out at her house right?”

She chuckled as she applied some clear raspberry flavoured lipgloss, looking at his reflection behind her in the mirror. “Feeling underdressed now?”

“No, it’s… It’s corny. You’re corny.”

She ignored his comment as she screwed the bottle shut and put it in her bag. 

Cas had gotten up to get the box with the cake from the kitchen and stacked it on top of the box with the jacket, ready to leave.

Ripley’s eyes lit up when they entered the coffee shop. Gabriela held the door open for Cas, who was carrying the boxes. Ripley just handed a customer his order, happily wishing him a nice day. They sat down at a table by the window while they waited for her.

Cas rested his cheek on his hand as he watched Ripley at the counter, so cheerful you wouldn’t guess she’d already been working for almost six hours. Something about the way he looked at Ripley nowadays made Gabriela feel warm inside. She liked what Ripley brought out in him, she didn’t nearly dislike him as much as she did just seven months ago. God, had it only been seven months? 

When he glanced in her direction she quickly looked past him, out of the window. She was glad when he didn’t call her out on staring.

Once Ripley could leave, she hurried up to their table. “Hey, guys!” She bent down in between them and gave them both a kiss on the cheek, after which she sat down across from them and sighed, slumping in her chair. “I had such a busy day, I’m exhausted!”

She eyed the boxes. “Are those for me?” She already moved to open the box with the cake, but Cas slapped her hand away. “Ow!” She giggled.

Gabriela elbowed him. “Yes, but you gotta be patient!”

Immediately Ripley got up. “Alright, let’s get outta here then. I got something for you guys at home too!”

Ripley was practically jumping from excitement by the time they entered her house. Bram matched her energy as he excitedly greeted them when they all walked into the kitchen. Cas put the boxes on the counter and bent down, stretching his arms out so the small dog could jump into them. Animals had always liked him, apparently that hadn’t changed after he became a vampire.

“Okay I’ll go get your gifts, we can all open them together!” Quickly Ripley left the room while Cas turned into Gabriela’s direction so she could pet Bram.

Gabriela could hear her stumble on the last few steps of the stairs and Cas sent her a knowing, amused look. Their Ripley… She thought it was so cute how excited she could get. Ripley was big on gift giving anyway and Gabriela was excited to see what she’d gotten for her and Cas.

A few minutes later Ripley barged into the room, balancing two big boxes in her arms, one wrapped in black wrapping paper with skulls and one in pink paper with hearts. She couldn’t make it more clear who each present belonged to. She was wiggling on her feet as she set them down on the dinner table. “Open them up! Open them up! Last week lasted like a million years, I’ve been so excited to finally give them to you guys!”

When Gabriela picked up the pink box she immediately noticed a spicy, savoury smell coming out of it. That could only mean one thing…

“Ripley…” She gently started. “I think… you mixed up our presents.”

“What? No way, I checked like thrice before wrapping—”

On her right side, Cas had already ripped the wrapping apart and burst out laughing as he pulled a fluffy pink bear out of the box. 

“Seriously?!” Ripley exclaimed, before both she and Gabriela joined him and started laughing.

When they all finally calmed down, she and Cas swapped their boxes. Gabriela started rummaging through the shredded paper Ripley had filled the box with. Alongside the bear—which she loved, by the way—she’d gotten her a pink little box with colourful jewelry inside of it, some bottles of nail polish, lots of chocolate and a bunch of self made coupons with little doodles of the two of them, which she could exchange for various date ideas. 

She marveled as she unpacked the box. This was so special to her, not just because Ripley obviously had done her best to think of nice gifts for her. But also because throughout the past few decades, she really hadn’t expected to ever fall in love again, let alone someone who’d treat her this way. Someone who’d be this excited to make her happy. 

She opened an arm so Ripley could hug her. “Thank you so much, Ripley. I love it so much!”

Cas had gotten a similar bear as her, but black and with a skull face, a jewelry box with skull ornaments on it, of course filled with jewelry that fit his tastes more, a make-up palette, a few packs of spicy ramen she hadn’t seen in any of the stores in Crimson Beech yet and the same kind of coupons she’d gotten, though with different date ideas. He hadn’t said anything yet, but she could tell he was in awe and didn’t really know how to react.

Ripley hugged him from behind and placed a kiss on the back of his head. “Do you like it?”

“I, um, I love it.” He quickly blinked a few times, cleared his throat and got up. He placed a quick kiss on Ripley’s cheek before walking back to the kitchen counter. “Now’s your turn, Buffy!”

Elated Ripley let out a giggle as she clapped her hands together once. “Which one’s from you?”

Gabriela had gotten up from her chair and joined them, placing a hand on the small of her back. “Actually, these are from both of us.”

“Whaaat? Like you guys worked together? Without killing each other?”

Gabriela smiled at her. “I— we know you care a lot about both of us and well..”

“And we fight a lot and it’s probably really fucking annoying for you...” Cas continued.

Gabriela picked the box with the cake up and set it down next to the other one. “So we felt like coming together and working together for you would make it even more meaningful.” 

“Also I’m broke.” Cas added bluntly, the girls both snorting in response. 

“Ah yeah, there’s the real reason.” Ripley playfully punched his arm before biting into his shoulder, giggling when he pushed her away. “In all seriousness, that does mean a lot to me. I—”

Cas groaned and guided her towards the counter. “Ohhh my god, just open the fucking presents already and keep the speech for after!”

She chuckled as she opened the box with the jacket first. She gasped as she held it up in front of her, not even having seen the back yet. “Holy shit, I love it!”

“You should look at the back, there’s more!” Gabriela instructed her. “You’re going to love this so much!”

Ripley let out a yelp when she saw the back. “Oh Cas, you painted this, right? Obviously you painted this. That’s insane...” She laid it on the dinner table to get a proper look as she marveled at all the details, feeling over the studs and spikes as she mouthed wow.

“Golden Girl here did all the studs after I showed her how.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, which made her heart do a little jump. It was almost like he genuinely seemed… proud of her?

Ripley still stared at the jacket with twinkling eyes. “I love it so much…” She took off the big sweater she was wearing, so she could put it on. Gabriela loved how it looked on her, it fit her perfectly. She already knew Ripley would be wearing it all the time.

Cas set the box with the cake down on the dinner table. “And the next one!”

Ripley pulled up the lid and gasped again. “You guys baked together?!”

Gabriela giggled. “And it went surprisingly well too!”

“He didn’t just sit around and make you do all the work?” 

“Nope! And he did most of the decorations!”

Ripley threw an arm around Cas’ waist and kissed his cheek. “That’s how I know you liiiike meeee…” She looked at the cake again. “Seriously though, it looks so pretty, I almost feel like I shouldn’t eat it…”

Gabriela handed her a knife before walking back to the kitchen to get some forks and plates. “I hope you’ll like it!”

Ripley cut off a piece for everyone and when she finally tried a bite, her eyes rolled back and she started shimmying happily. That’s how Gabriela knew she loved it before she even said anything. “It’s delicious! You guys need to team up more often, I think I’ll need one of these at least once a month. Or maybe twice… a week!”

Even Cas enjoyed the cake, which made Ripley very happy too, she always complained when the two of them were eating and he didn’t join them.

Ripley cleared her throat as she cut off another piece for herself. “It really means so much to me that you guys would do this for me together. It makes me happy to see you guys getting along better lately. I'm glad I don’t have to like, celebrate Valentine's day with you guys separately today.” She shot them the brightest smile of the day yet. “I feel like the luckiest girl in the world right now!”

Gabriela placed her hand over hers, gently rubbing a knuckle with her thumb. “So do I.” 

Cas cleared his throat. “I definitely also feel like the luckiest girl in the world.” 

The girls laughed in response and Ripley raised her glass. “That makes three of us then. To um, a great first Valentine’s day together.” Her partners clinked their glasses to hers. “And to being the luckiest girls in the world!”

Glen and Bridget Zhou’s car pulls up just in front of Evie’s house. Evie and her husband-of-three-weeks Aiden step out of the car, and Evie grins as she sees her house again. 

“Home sweet home.” 

“You want us to help carry your luggage inside?” Glen asks.

“Yes please, thank you!” Evie replies. 

The four of them carry the luggage from Evie and Aiden’s honeymoon trip, into a space in the living room, then go back outside to send off Aiden’s parents.

“Thanks for driving us from the airport, Mom and Dad,” Aiden says. 

“Of course,” Bridget hugs them both and kisses her son on the cheek. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay for a bit?”

“You two are probably tired after that flight, so we’ll let you have some time to yourselves…” 

“That’s true.”

The two couples say their goodbyes, then Bridget heads back to the car with Glen and they drive off. Evie takes Aiden’s hand in hers.

“Let’s go in?”

“Yep!”

They walk up to the front porch of her house. Evie opens the door, but before Aiden has a chance to go inside, she bends down and puts an arm under his knees. 

“Evie, that’s for when we move into our own house…” Aiden says teasingly.

“Yeah, but we don’t exactly have our own house yet, so I might as well do it now.” 

“Classic Evie Ayana,” Aiden chuckles. “The Evie Ayana that I love~”

Placing her other arm under his upper back, she carefully yet swiftly swoops him into her arms, carrying him. Aiden places a hand on her shoulder so he can turn and kiss her firmly on the lips, before speaking in a soft yet husky tone. 

“I love when you do that~”

Evie returns the kiss with equal fervor. “And I love doing it~”

Evie carries Aiden through the doorway and into her house and sets him down on the couch, then goes briefly to close the door. 

“So, what should we do now?” Aiden asks. “Order some McDermont’s, watch a movie… and we seem to have the house to ourselves, so maybe we can do something… fun later?”

“All of that sounds great… but there’s something I need to show you first.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“It’s in my room… you want me to carry you there, or no?”

“I’ll walk this time. Lead the way…”

They go to Evie’s bedroom, and Evie gestures to the wall above her dresser. There, is a string of fairy lights going across the wall. Clipped to the string is a series of photos… photos of them. 

“Evie…”

He gazes across the string of photos, recognizing each event it came from. Their photo from Brian’s pool party on the first day of Berry, their photo from the homecoming parade, the photos from their first homecoming and prom together, the photos from each subsequent homecoming and prom, a photo they took on the Spotlite trip, a photo they took from each of their high school and university graduations, a photo from the day she proposed to him… each of them arranged in chronological order, noted at the bottom with the date they were taken. 

“Evie, this is beautiful,” he says, beaming at her. “When did you make this?”

“I’d been compiling these for a while now, but I officially set this up the night before our wedding…” 

“It’s… I love it.”

Aiden moves up closer to examine the photos at the start of the string– the pool party photo, the parade photo, the homecoming photo, and the prom photo. A gentle silence seems to take over the room as Aiden looks between these photos. 

“Aiden?”

“I… I just can’t believe we have photos together going back as far as our high school days…” he takes a deep breath in. “Not saying that’s a bad thing at all, I just mean…”

Another silence overtakes the room. Then Aiden turns to Evie, meeting her gaze.

“Did you ever think we’d make it this far, Evie?” he asks. “Because… high school relationships aren’t exactly known for being long-lasting. Yet here we are… newly married, with a photo together from the day we met, on your first day at Berry High…”

Evie ponders his question, almost becoming lost in thought. 

“In all honesty? I think I did. To some extent…” she moves closer to him. “I think by the time we confessed our love to each other, I sort of had a gut feeling that we’d last a pretty damn long time. But just like with our love confession… I didn’t want to push us into anything too quickly. I knew of the possibility that we might not last. But obviously what we had at the time was so great, and…”

She pauses, pondering again.

“I guess you could say, whatever our endgame was meant to be didn’t matter all that much to me at the time. I mean, I have always hoped for us to be married one day… but at the time, I was more focused on just keeping up what we had. Because we had a great thing going, and I wanted it to last as long as possible.” 

Aiden’s face turns bright red as he smiles. 

“What about you?”

“Same as you, in a way… it’s weird, cause when we first met, I was the kind of person who couldn’t be bothered to entertain the idea of romance. Eventually, I got over all that, but it was still kind of a mixed bag for me. On one hand, it was hard not to imagine what it’d be like if we ended up having a future together. But on the other hand, I was always afraid something might screw it up for us… like our argument over that basketball game, or when I was about to graduate and go to Terman U…”

He took her hand in his and squeezed it tenderly, his thumb running over her wedding ring.

“But like you, I supposed I was more focused on keeping it going. If it didn’t work, it didn’t work, but so far it was working. A couple of incorrect notes played shouldn’t be allowed to stop an otherwise fantastic recital performance, right?”

“Absolutely.”

He turns back to the photo string, taking one last look at the earlier photos before turning to one of their more recent photos– the photo from Evie’s proposal, three years prior to their wedding. In that photo, the two of them are side-by-side with arms wrapped around each other, Aiden holding out his hand to proudly show off the slender, silver, diamond-encrusted ring that Evie had given him. 

“It’s been nearly eight years since we met, and… here we are.”

“And there are still gonna be more photos for us to add,” Evie says. “Our wedding photos, once they arrive in the mail, of course, and our honeymoon photos… but also many more beyond that. When we first get our own place, if and when we have any kids… and who knows what else?”

“Well, whatever comes next for us… I want it to continue to be amazing.” 

Aiden wraps his arms around her waist and plants a kiss onto her lips. 

“Likewise,” Evie replies. 

Holding him close to her, her hands firmly on his back, she returns the kiss. He kisses her again, and again… and the two become quickly lost into each other for a short moment. 

“I love you, Aiden Zhou.”

“I love you too, Evie Ayana.” 

Evie gives him one last kiss before pulling away and taking his hand. “So… shall we have some McDermont’s, movies, and chill now?”

Aiden squeezes her hand and grins. 

The flash of the cameras danced around her, each lens begging for her attention. Camera shutters echoed in her ear. This was the moment she'd dreamed of—imagined a thousand and one times. She tilted her chin and turned her shoulder.

Everything was perfect.

It should have been enough.

It wasn't.

Her practiced smile didn't quite reach her eyes. For a moment, she almost turned, as if someone had called—though no one had. They'd never noticed. The studio had been sure she was media-ready for today. Nothing would challenge her their big moment.

Not even him.

i. chance

Her heart fluttered as her fingers delicately traced the golden Art Deco door handle. She was finally here. Inhaling deeply, she lifted her head, straightening her shoulders, before opening the studio door.

The space was dark except for a few soft stage lights, the set not yet reset for the day. She lingered near the door, her gaze tracing over the space. If these walls could talk. She inched closer, a typewritten script held in her arms.

He walked swiftly across the stage. He paused only long enough to retrieve his blazer from the director's chair, then continued on.

The sound of footsteps pulled her attention. She caught only the silhouette of a man retreating. The echo of his step faded, leaving the space emptier than it had been before.

ii. thread

Muffled voices seeped through the wood-paneled walls as he navigated the narrow hallway. He passed Studio A on the way to the next. He’d always thought interviews were little more than promotion—advertisements for the latest picture, disguised as a conversation.

The on-air light was dim. He reached for the silver door handle. A soft laugh sounded from the other side, light and honest. He opened it slowly. A brunette woman met him. He stepped aside, holding it open for her.

"Thank you."

She stepped past him.

He let the door close behind her.

He almost looked back.

iii. glance

Her fingers curled around the white porcelain cup. The familiar notes of the freshly brewed coffee brought a smile to her lips. She listened to the quiet hum of the cafe. Her days had been filled with rehearsals and filming. Unscripted moments had become rare.

Her gaze lifted.

He sat at a table opposite hers. His pen scratched across the surface of the pages in front of him.

He looked up.

For a moment, their eyes met. She smiled over the rim of her cup, taking another sip before looking away. Her gaze turned out the window, watching those walking by. His reflection lingered faintly in the glass as he returned to his work.

iv. interruption

He moved with purpose through the lot. A call for quiet from a nearby set drew his attention. He turned toward the set. A familiar face caught his eye. She moved gracefully across the scene. Her voice was light, touched with optimism.

"Cut."

Her gaze met his as she turned away from the production.

Recognition flashed in her eyes. A slow smile spread on her lips.

He took a step forward.

"Alexandra."

A production assistant guided her back to her mark.

He lingered a moment longer before continuing on his way.

Alexandra.

v. choice

The scent of stale tobacco mixed with the sharp coffee aroma as she entered the cafe. She glanced around the space, making her way to an empty table. She took a seat and opened a small black appointment book, reading through the notes for the day.

She turned her attention out the window. A familiar reflection caught her eye, drawing her gaze to the table across from her.

He sat still, a book perched in his hands. His face gave little away, his expression unreadable.

She almost turned back to the busy street.

But she didn't.

Not today.

"Hello," she greeted.

His gaze lifted from the page, over the top of the book.

His eyes met hers.

vi. pull

"Alexandra, is it?" He closed the book and set it on the table.

"Should I be impressed Thomas Hunt knows my name?"

His eyes narrowed, the corner of his lip lifting slightly. "Many would be."

"You'll find I'm not," she challenged.

He studied her for a moment. She was more direct than he anticipated, her smile still unguarded. That was a rarity. "Indeed."

"My apologies if that disappoints."

The book remained closed beneath his hand. His attention no longer on it, his gaze fixed on her. "I'm not certain you could disappoint."

vii. bond

It had become effortless, spending time like this. The placid lake stretched out before them. Strands of golden sun kissed the water, scattering like diamonds across the surface.

Her fingers brushed over the soft fabric of the picnic blanket. The wind shifted, lifting a strand of her hair. He reached up, brushing it back.

"I like it here," she decided.

"It's quiet," he agreed.

"It's easier out here." Her gaze fell to the sandy shore.

His hand settled over hers.

"It's easier with you," she added.

"I've found the same."

“Careful, Thomas... You almost sound agreeable.”

The smile that tugged at his lips reached his eyes. His gaze drifted back over the lake.

viii. dream

The ballroom glowed beneath the ornate chandeliers. Voices around them blurred into the music.

She rested her head on his shoulder, his hand warm against her lower back. Her silk dress shifted with each gentle movement as they swayed slowly together. Nothing beyond them seemed to exist. When she lifted her head, her eyes met his. The smile that greeted her was unlike any the public ever saw. It was entirely hers.

"Alex." His voice was tender.

"I know."

As the song quieted, neither of them moved. He drew her closer, the distance between them fading. His lips found hers in a soft, almost fragile kiss.

The final notes faded into applause, but she didn't move.

Neither of them did.

ix. interference

"Miss Spencer." The steady voice stopped her before she could go further. "A word, if you please."

She drew in a deep breath, her body reluctant to follow. "Of course."

"Have a seat." The studio executive gestured toward an emerald green leather chair.

"You're still new to all of this, Miss Spencer, so I'll be quite clear. There are expectations that come with representing the studio. The image you present is not solely yours—it belongs to us. Personal associations are not without there consequences. If and when changes are required, they will be made in accordance with the studio's interests. I trust you understand."

"But—" Her mouth opened, though the expression that met her across the desk gave her pause. Her hands tightened. "I understand."

"I trust you'll attend the premiere of your upcoming picture in a manner consistent with these expectations."

She rose to her feet, smoothing the fabric of her dress before turning away.

x. destiny

Her smile never wavered. Each step down the red carpet had been choreographed for her. Who to talk with, who to pose for, when to hesitate, when to move on. It was another scene for her to play, far from the empowerment she thought it would bring. She was their Alexandra. She hadn't thought she'd miss being Alex.

With careful precision, she executed every look they wanted. The bright lights of the cameras started to dim as she neared the theater.

"Thank you!" She waved, posing once more for a final display.

The doors opened, welcoming her into the screening of her picture. She ascended the steps of the theater, slipping her gloves off. She'd been offered a private box. The first thing that had gone right. At least there, she would be free from the performance.

She paused outside of it. Her fingers caressed the green velvet curtains separating her space from the hall. Quietly, she slipped in, disappearing from the world outside.

She stilled, her eyes not trusting what they saw.

It was him.

Of course, it was him.

"How?"

"Does it matter?"

He stood to meet her, guiding her down into the seat beside him. He drew her in, and this time, he kissed her without hesitation. Nothing could pull them apart.

A/N: Initially I was going to do a kismet mini series on this but readership is so low in the fandom that I didn't think anyone would follow that long. So I compromised and tried to write 100 word drabbles for each "chapter" and make a mosiac one-shot instead.

If you read this, I hope you enjoyed it! It was a lot of fun to write. It's very different than my normal fluffy writing style. It's much more controlled and restrained. It was very hard especially when the finally got together not to revert back lol

Dealing with Demons

The group finally escape the chaotic clutches of La Huerta but it's not the happy ending they hoped for.

They're missing a person.

One who made the ultimate sacrifice so they could get away.

That girl was Jayden McKenzie, but this isn't her story. Not yet. This story starts with the guy she left behind.

He's not doing so good.

"Princess…" Jake choked. A solitary tear making its way down his cheek as he tightened his arms around himself, the stinging ends of his hair barely noticed where the wind whipped them against his face.

He ached to take her hand in his, to feel her give that little squeeze back as he threaded his fingers with hers. Instead he was staring over the back of the boat towards the last place he'd seen her, the volcanic island disappearing below the horizon. The island that had given him a glimpse of happiness only to ruthlessly tear her away.

He squeezed his eyes shut as sobs fought to break out. It was worse than losing Mike. Worse than having to go on the run. Worse because he finally found someone to live for. Someone who believed in him, who knew his past, saw him for the broken person he was and loved him anyway.

They should have been making this journey together but instead the rescuers didn't even know she was missing.

Official sounding voices grew louder behind him and he tensed. Forcing fists to lower to his sides he tried to focus on the sensation of nails gouging into his palms, to feel anything other than the gaping emptiness that threatened to overwhelm him. The last thing he needed to do right now was draw attention to himself or he'd be spending the next chunk of his life behind bars.

She wanted him to live for her, wanted him to fight to clear his name, but all he knew how to do was run.

"I could've done it with you, but I can't do it for you." He whispered, his words torn back towards the island where he'd left the shattered remains of his heart, "I'm just not that person without you."

Swallowing against the lump that made it's home in his throat he made his way back towards where 'The Hartfeld Kids' huddled together in silence. Hopefully being grouped with them would keep his identity off the radar a little longer, though that wouldn't last once they docked and the questions started.

He managed to keep a low profile while the boat nosed its way into port, blending with the group as they disembarked. Watching, waiting, ready to seize the moment he was sure would arise. A moment the media seemed happy to provide as reporters surged past the barriers towards them, cameras flashing over a cacophony of shouted questions. Word was out that the missing college kids had been found, and everyone wanted to break the story. He made the most of the opportunity, slipping unnoticed into the crowd. It was something he was good at by now, maybe the only thing he was still good at.

Only one person saw him go. Estela's dark eyes solemn yet unusually bright as she inclined her head before turning her back and asking a question, trying to distract the officials a little longer. It must have worked because despite feeling a target itching between his shoulder blades, no one stopped him as he made his way through back streets and bartered a ride. It wasn't much more than a glorified fishing boat but Jake wasn't in a position to be picky, he needed to get away fast and this was going in the right direction. He forced himself to focus on moving forwards, on reaching Costa Rica where the officials wouldn't care enough to give chase.

It was only after he arrived back at the cabin he'd lived in before, that he allowed himself to think about what he was running from instead of to. Dropping his bag at his feet, he sank onto the edge of the bed, head in his hands as he pictured the island as he'd last seen it; growing smaller in the distance.

This time two days ago they'd thought Rourke was the worst thing they had to deal with. The day before had been the happiest of his life. He'd gotten married.. Him married. What a crazy thought..

Bundling his jacket as a pillow he laid back on the bed, waiting for the pain to rush back and tear at him again. He'd expected to break, but instead he was numb; as though a wall lingered between him and his emotions.

"Maybe I can do this after all" he thought absently as he drifted into sleep.

*

He woke the next morning, instinctively reaching for her at his side only to find the space empty. Opening his eyes, he expected to see her nearby, getting coffee or breakfast or something. When he found the room empty he blinked at its familiarity. Then he remembered. Remembered that she was gone. Remembered the last time he held her on that rooftop, trying to support her as she saved them all. Remembered the moment there was nothing to hold anymore as she turned to stardust in his arms. Remembered that she'd never fall asleep curled up next to him again. That he'd never be able to hold her close and run his fingers through her hair. Never hear her laughter or feel the touch of her lips. Never have her curse at him again or mock him or call him Top Gun in that silky voice of hers.

The soft numbness from the night before vanished and he let out a cry of anguish, tears pouring out of him; incoherent sounds forcing their way out of his throat until it physically hurt.

He couldn't imagine having to go on living without her. He needed her. To see her. To feel her warmth. Her touch. Anything, just to have her near. To hold her one more time. To hear her voice in something other than that damn voicemail.

He reached for the half drunk bottle of whiskey tucked under the edge of the bed... Maybe if he drank enough he could convince himself it wasn't real. He pressed play again and again and again, until he had the whole thing memorised; and then he pressed it another time, just needing to hear her. He listened and drank over and over, until the words blurred and so did the walls, and still he choked out heartbroken gut wrenching sobs with his phone clutched in one hand, their handfasting ribbon in his other.

*

Estela arrived just under a week later, the soonest she could get a plane out without arousing suspicion. It didn't take much asking around to find out where he was staying.

"You've let yourself get clumsy Cabron." she muttered softly as she made her way to his cabin.

She knocked but no one answered. Walking round the cabin she peered in a low grubby window, the curtains parted just enough for her to make out a body on the floor. Was she too late? Had someone from Arachnid found him? Had he done something stupid? Biting back panic, she went to the only door, directing a solid, single kick just to the side of the lock.

"Wha..?" the mound on the floor grumbled as the door flew open and she sucked in a breath of relief, wrinkling her nose and wishing she hadn't as a plethora of unpleasant smells hit the back of her throat.

With a purposeful step to one side, she ran her eyes critically over him. It was definitely Jake, though he hardly looked like the pilot she'd come to respect on La Huerta; and he stank worse than people she'd fought weeks in jungles with, looked like he hadn't shaved since he left the island too. She raised her eyes to the ceiling trying to decide the best approach to take before nudging his hip with the toe of her boot.

Screwing up his face Jake opened one eye, peering bleary-eyed at the figure standing over him. Any irrational hope it might have been Jayden disappeared as he forced his eyes to focus enough to see dark hair. He closed them again, knowing he should be bothered someone found him but unable to summon the energy. "Go 'way" he grunted.

That booted toe nudged into his hip again, gentler than it could have been. Probably not here for the bounty then. He frowned, forcing an eye back open as the woman crouched before him and he realised he recognised her.

"Oh. Katniss? What d'ya want?" He considered closing his eyes again but remembered the stubborn streak she rarely bothered to hide. Reluctantly he dragged himself into a sitting position offering up an almost empty whisky bottle instead. "Want a drink?"

She plucked the bottle from his fingers. "Sure, but not while you smell like that. Get a shower, get changed, and then maybe we'll have a drink?"

She moved her arm out of the way as he reached for the bottle back. "I said after you don't smell like a homeless drunk anymore." She climbed back to her feet with a grace that always surprised him, taking his remaining whiskey with her as she stepped out of the door. "I'll be just out here. Don't push me. I will come back in and wash you if you don't do it yourself. It won't be pleasant."

As the room settled into companionable darkness again Jake frowned at the door, blinking through a drunken haze as he made a half-hearted attempt at waking up properly. Did I imagine that? He grimaced and shook his head, immediately wishing he hadn't as the room span and refused to settle, his almost constant headache pounding behind his eyes. Katniss wasn't here. She was gone. They were all gone. Gone like Jay was gone, leaving him alone once more. He slumped defeated to the floor, hardly noticing when his head connected with the wooden surface.

A familiar voice called ominously back through the door causing him to flinch. "I don't hear movement..."

Okay. Maybe Estela was here. That or his drunken mind had gotten better at imagining people, and if that were the case Katniss certainly wouldn't be his first choice of hallucination. "...movin' already," he grumbled. Forcing himself unsteadily to his feet he grabbed at the drawers as the floor swayed beneath him and his stomach threatened to rebel; reminding him he hadn't eaten anything in days.

He managed to make his way to the sink, placing both palms on the edge with a shudder as he met the bloodshot hollow eyes of the broken man looking back at him. Saw his reflections lip curl up in an attempt at a snarl... "Can't she just leave me to... To what? Drink myself to death? Nothin' means anythin' anymore."

He wondered if he could get away with just splashing water on his face, but no - Estela wasn't to be pushed. She'd make good on her threat to wash him. Stepping out of his clothes and under the shower he reluctantly admitted he felt a little better. The tiles were cool against his palms as he leaned his weight onto them, water pounding on the top of his head and running down his face. Water that mixed with tears as his thoughts inevitably turned back to Jay. His Princess. A nickname that started as something to irritate her with, but ended up being so much more personal.

He grabbed for the bottle of shower gel and made a half-hearted attempt to wash, not bothering to shave or brush his hair. Staring at his reflection once more he thought it should meet Katniss's demands.

Making his way over to the door once he was dressed again, he stumbled round numerous discarded bottles he didn't remember drinking. He almost tripped over Estela on the step as he opened the door and blinked against the unfamiliar daylight. Lowering himself to sit beside her, he raised a single eyebrow when she took a swig from a full bottle of whiskey before offering it to him. "I know I'm drunk Katniss, but even I know that bottle was near as empty."

She gave a half smile and reached her free arm down to lift the almost empty one from at the other side of the step. "You didn't actually think I was going to drink out of that did you?"

Feeling something unknot inside him he gave her the closest thing to a smile he'd managed since his world came crashing down a week ago. "You're alright Katniss. You know that?"

"You're not so bad yourself. Let's see if we can keep you that way."

*

She stuck around long enough to force him into living, cooked for him and nagged him to eat; forcing him to acknowledge another person in his miserable heartbroken existence. Saw when he started sliding into despair again and stopped him before it became too desperate, especially on days he spent too long staring out at the sea.

Sometimes she'd join him on the beach, a quiet support at his side as he railed against the universe, against Vannu. Sometimes she'd lean against the cabin wall watching from a distance, but he always knew she was there.

On good days he appreciated her company, knowing she had family and a life she wanted to get back to; but for some reason she stayed for him. Other days he included her in the list of things he hated and took out his frustrations on her. Those were the days she waited patiently for him to run out of energy and collapse to the floor before helping him to bed, holding him while he broke and cried for his lost wife.

*

He didn't know who decided they were going to meet back up for the anniversary of her death. It was a stupid idea. He wanted to stay in his cabin, evade Estela and drink himself into oblivion. He didn't want to spend time with them. With people who would try to get him to talk about things he didn't want to think about much less discuss.

Once again it didn't matter what he wanted and he found himself bundled onto a plane when the others arrived, with Mike piloting them to La Huerta. Even the sight of his back from the dead best friend couldn't pull him from his depression… If anything it made him feel worse, the words he'd spoken to Jay on that night coming back to torment him.

"If that's true… it would mean everything to me."

Stupid, hateful words that he'd do anything to take back, words he was afraid had influenced her decision to sacrifice herself. It meant a lot to have Mike back, but not enough for that. Nothing could ever be enough for that.

They made a bonfire on the beach like they'd done that first night and took turns speaking words that were supposed to be comforting, but Jake didn't hear any of it. He ignored them all as they tried to include him, refused to speak to them, to do anything that might drag him away from the drunken cocoon he'd done his best to wrap himself in.

He knew he was being unreasonable but couldn't seem to care, part of him hating them for getting their chances at a happily ever after when his had been shattered.

He stayed up long after everyone went to bed, ignoring the concerned glances the others threw his way as they left; not seeing when Estela bade them goodnight and crept back into the treeline to keep watch over him. His eyes locked unfocused on the ocean, his thoughts filled with bitterness and self loathing.

He fought against sleep, trying to believe that if he stayed up long enough she'd come back. That maybe if he hoped hard enough, whatever magic mumbo jumbo Vannu had pulled would release her back to him and he could hold her in his arms once more.

He didn't know he was going to speak until the hoarse words ripped from his chest. "I was broken before I met you. I knew that, but I didn't know how badly. You made me whole again. But I couldn't save you… Come back to me Princess, just please… Come back."

When the sun's rays crested the horizon he launched the remains of his whiskey bottle into the ocean and screamed until his throat hurt.

"What happened to a year and a day? You should be here with me." And then he cried until he fell asleep on the sand.

The other catalysts found him there a couple of hours later and agreed to cut their planned visit short.

*

He went back to Costa Rica and so did his shadow Estela. She started suggesting he cut back on the amount he drank, but always stopped short of actually trying to force him.

They settled into a now familiar routine but the bad days were beginning to outnumber the good and he found himself wondering - not for the first time - why she stayed, and what he'd do when she finally tired of dealing with his shit and left. That heralded another cycle of despair and self loathing, when had he become this pathetic mess…. Oh right. That was when...

He was still mainly drunk a couple of months later when news came through that everything was finalised for his court date. He stared at Estela in shock when she told him. "You what Katniss?"

"You heard. It's time to start trying to sort your life out."

His mouth fell open and he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "They did what? Even after I ignored them at the anniversary?"

"Oh, They've been working on it long before that." She gave a sad half-smile. "Just because you shut yourself off doesn't mean everyone else stopped caring. They are your friends, you know. We care."

He hung his head in shame. He hadn't even considered they might look into things for him, especially not that they'd get this far while managing to keep him out of prison. He couldn't begin to imagine how much time and effort they'd put into that on his behalf.

It seemed the remaining Catalysts and Mike had done the background work and all he had to do was testify… sober… The thought terrified him, though he wasn't sure which part he was most afraid of.

Estela kicked him off the island for his hearing. Literally dumped him on a plane after arranging for the others to meet him at the other end. She'd hidden his alcohol the last couple of days and threatened his pilot with such ferocity not to allow him near any on the plane, so Jake was reluctantly sobering up when he landed. He was in serious withdrawal though, and wasn't dealing well with thoughts that the alcohol had kept him cushioned from.

The twelve of them rented a house and stayed throughout his case, taking it in turns to keep him company and keep an eye on him. Mike stood in for Estela who'd finally been able to go home. With hindsight it was a good thing they did. If he'd been left alone the first thing he would have done was grab a bottle again, and showing up drunk and incoherent to his hearing would have ruined all the work his friends put in.

They threw a party the day the court case finished and him and Mike were officially declared free men again; dishonourable discharges overwritten with outstanding service medals, and enough compensation that neither of them would have to work for a good long while.

The others meant well, but they were too happy, too enthusiastic, too bouncy and the victory felt hollow. "I saw this with you, but you were supposed to be here to share it with me." He whispered, stepping outside for some fresh air and raising his face to the stars. "It's nothin' without you here."

*

He spent time with Rebecca and his mum after the case was over. It was nice to see them, for them to know he was alive and innocent, but again his words from that night on La Huerta haunted him.

"I'd really like to see my family again… and Mike."

As with Mike, they couldn't replace the girl who'd given her life so he could have them back. Even knowing it was unreasonable, he found he couldn't forgive them for the exchange.

They left after a week with offers for him to come and stay, but they knew he wouldn't take them up on it. He never did go back to his grandparents either. He'd wanted to share it with Jay, to show her parts of his life from before. Without her it just felt like another part that was pointless now.

Everyone drifted off back to their lives after his family left, until there was only him and Mike. They stuck together for a while, renting a place in the city. It was good catching up at first but they found it hard to settle back into the easy camaraderie they'd once shared, both dealing with their own issues. Mike was less willing to put up with his crap than Estela had been and it got so they argued frequently. He wanted Jake to move on, which he couldn't do. More than that - and what irritated Mike the most - was that he refused to even try.

After one of their increasingly frequent arguments Jake sat on the windowsill in his room, staring out over the river, whiskey bottle in hand. "How can they expect me to forget ya Princess? I wasn't goin' to let anyone in ever again, but you managed, you found your way into my heart. I knew it would break me if I lost you, but I couldn't help fallin' in love anyway. You were my whole life and now they want me to sweep up the pieces and move on? Even If I could, I don't know if I'd want to. I let you down. I couldn't save you. Maybe I deserve this."

He shut himself away, hardly leaving his room unless it was to get more alcohol. Eventually Mike couldn't deal with him anymore and kicked him out.

With nowhere else to go Jake checked himself into the first motel he saw. It was strange being able to walk up to the desk openly and use his ID to get a room, but the novelty wore off when the door closed and he was alone. Truly alone for the first time since Estela arrived on the island. Unable to stand the silence he wandered off to find a bar.

He wasn't consciously looking for trouble, but found himself in one of the rougher bars in the area. When a muscled skinhead guy with tattoos down both arms barged into him, and glared at him to get out of the way Jake sneered instead of backing down. He didn't throw the first punch, but he made sure the ones he did throw counted. They were both bleeding by the time Tattoos friends separated them and he got thrown out. He tried a couple more bars but the doorstaff took one look at his blooded face and torn clothing and refused to allow him in. Instead, he bought a couple of bottles on his way back to the hotel. Closing the door behind him once more he touched a hand gingerly to his jaw, glad to feel something physical; to feel anything other than self pity or emotional pain.

*

The second anniversary was worse in some respects. Jake wasn't sober for it, but he was closer than he'd been at the first one. He still didn't remember much, spending most of it sitting by the fire winding their handfasting ribbon round and round in his fingers. Again he stayed awake all night staring out at the endless ocean, silently begging her to return; and again he was still alone when the sun came up.

He hardly spoke with Mike that year, It was too soon after the hurtful things they'd hurled at each other. Diego found out Mike had thrown him out and offered him a place to stay.

Living with Varyyn and Diego - seeing them happy with the life he'd wanted, the life he'd had taken from him - it hurt and he tried to cope by distracting himself with a string of one night stands. People whose names and faces meant nothing and he struggled to remember anything about them afterwards. He knew Diego and Varyyn disapproved but neither called him out on it. Out of everyone Diego was the person closest to understanding what he was going through.

When he started to see her eyes staring reproachfully from the nameless faces he stopped, finally realising it was hurting more than it helped.

*

By the third anniversary he was still staying with Diego and Varyyn, though he managed to patch things up with Mike that visit.

As they sat chatting around the bonfire he took another drink and looked round the group, realising they were the only people in the world apart from his mum and sister who cared. The only ones who would even notice if anything happened to him. They were also all he had left of Jay, the only people who'd been through that unbelievable trip with him, who shared some of his memories; and he'd been treating them like crap. It was a wonder they still spoke to him, that they wanted anything to do with him..

He vowed to make it up to them, or at least be better around them.

He spent the night at the beachfront deep in thought, trying to find a way to remember Jay without the raw hurt. He didn't manage, but he felt a little more at peace that night, almost as though she watched the sun rise with him. "Miss you Princess," he whispered as he fell asleep on the sands.

*

Diego helped him move to his own apartment shortly after that visit. He spent those first couple of months on his own staring at the bottom of a whiskey bottle again, until one day he woke up and really looked round the apartment. He winced at his reflection in the mirror when he went to the bathroom.

"You'd kick my ass if you saw me like this wouldn't you Princess?"

That day he delayed listening to her message until the worst of his hangover had passed, and purposefully moved the alcohol out of his reach before he pressed play. He went to sleep sober for the first time in months, clutching his phone to his chest.

The next day and the next he spent the entire day thinking of her, tears streaming down his cheeks as he avoided the whiskey bottle lurking in the cupboard by the sink.

He'd been sober pretty much constantly since then, even if some days it seemed like he'd switched an alcohol addiction for a caffeine one. He still listened to her message daily, but it was once a day now, and sometimes he could even smile at the sound of her voice instead of breaking down.

He started running again, and then going back to the gym. It was hard realising how far out of shape he'd fallen, but it gave him a focus and took his mind off Jay when his thoughts inevitably turned dark again.

He'd even taken a pilots refresher course and been cleared to fly. It made a nice change to be able to pilot them all to the fourth reunion instead of Mike having to cover for him. Mike still joined them of course, somewhere over the past few years he'd found himself included as one of the group.

Again Jake stayed up long after the others retired to bed. This time he laid staring up at the stars, wondering which direction was hers. He closed his eyes as the sun came up, willing himself to feel her beside him.

"Miss you too, Top Gun" he almost thought he heard her say as the waves crashed along the beach.

*

That had been almost a year ago now. Life was… well…it was continuing. He'd taken the odd piloting job and had even managed a relationship of sorts for a couple of months. A girl from the gym. Aveline. They'd been running buddies for a while and they'd fallen into spending more time together. Kissing and making love was merely 'nice' rather than the fireworks he'd once shared with Jay, but he didn't begrudge Aveline that. He was beginning to think it was a once in a lifetime thing the two of them had shared on the island.

He was content enough, but when Aveline started dropping hints about their future Jake had to admit that was a step he wasn't willing to take. He may have promised Jay a year and a day, but in his heart it had been forever. He couldn't marry anyone else.

Aveline didn't respond well when he told her he had no intention of getting married. They had a massive screaming row about it, though thankfully he had enough self preservation not to mention he still considered himself married to Jay.

She didn't call or come round during the following week. He had a feeling he was supposed to be realising what he was missing in her absence but instead he found he didn't miss her at all. The day she did try calling he switched the phone to silent and hunted out pictures of Jay.

He sat cross legged in the middle of his bed, pictures spread over the quilt. Most were from the island, but Diego had given him some of her before the trip too. A couple were of the two of them in the pool and he wasn't sure who'd taken those. Another was their handfasting. Some he'd taken with his phone early on when she wasn't looking. When she was still just a barely legal college girl he was trying to deny having a crush on.

Aveline had basically told him to 'get over himself' the last time they spoke. He traced a finger gently over Jay's face in a close up he thought Quinn might have taken. "It's you I can't get over Princess. I've tried. I've even managed to get myself sorted back out. But it's still your face I see every night when I go to sleep. Your voice that I hear as I start to go about my day. I'm trying to live for you, but no one can ever replace you."

He smiled a sad smile as he boxed everything back up and returned it to its place on the shelf.

"Time to head out Princess." He whispered to the room as he locked up and left the house. "Catch you later okay."

Autumn was wall on its way out. It would soon be time for those weirdos who called themselves his friends to start nagging him about their annual trip to La Huerta.

What was it he'd called them once? Her band of rugrats? Group of reprobates? rascals? something like that. Strange to think how they'd managed to stay friends without her. Maybe she was still the glue that bound everyone together.

He curled his fingers round the worn ribbon in his jacket pocket, looking up at thick heavy grey clouds that were threatening snow.

"You'd hate this Princess. You never did like the cold weather."

He paused as he crossed the street, the strangest feeling of deja vu crawling down his spine. It made him itch, and his instincts went on high alert looking for the danger.

… No danger.

He took a couple more steps before feeling a pull in the opposite direction. Puzzled, but never one to ignore a gut feeling, he allowed himself to be led a little further back down the street and round a corner.

… No danger, but whatever the pull had been it had stopped. He was about to walk on when he thought he heard a voice he'd never expected to hear again.

"Can you spare any change?"

A tiny voice, barely an audible whisper in the busy streets.

"Anyone, can you spare any change?"

His eyes dropped to a figure with huddled knees. A thin summer jacket and dirty blond hair sticking out from beneath a plain baseball cap. Arms wrapped tightly around herself to try fend off the cold.

He felt his heart stop… Surely there was no possible way

"...Jay?"