☾ Moonie ☾

It was another morning at the BAU, and you were pouring yourself a larger coffee than usual when your coworker, Derek Morgan, came to your side. 

“Rough night there, princess,” he said jokingly. This made you roll your eyes and set the pot down. 

“Ha ha,” you said sarcastically, then started walking back to the desks.

“No, seriously, you alright? You seem a bit off?” He asked, following you, drawing the attention of your ever-observant coworkers. You set your coffee down and turn to look at Morgan and now Reid and Pretniss awaiting your answer. 

“I don’t know; this whole morning has just felt off, like I'm in an episode of The Twilight Zone or something?” 

“What, like you're still in a dream or something?” Prentiss asks.

“Who's dreaming?” Hotch's voice rings from the upper level.

You sighed. “Nobody.”

“Alright then, remember reports are due on my desk by the end of the day,” Hotch called down and headed back into his office.

Once you were in the clear, Morgan reiterated the previous question. 

“I don’t know; it just has a weird vibe,” you said.

“A vibe?” Morgan echoed, already fighting a grin. 

“Yes, a vibe.” You gestured vaguely around the room. “I just feel off like the hairs on my neck are stuck standing up. Keep catching myself looking over my shoulder”

Morgan raised an eyebrow. “Expecting somebody?”

Spencer finally looked up from the book he'd been pretending to read.

“Your brain is constantly processing information you're not consciously aware of,” he said. “Sometimes it notices subtle changes before you can identify what changed. That can create a persistent sense that something isn't quite right.” 

You looked at him while biting your cheek.

“While this feeling can be useful, it can also be influenced by stress or expectation. Considering our recent cases and the way you're biting your cheek, I assume stress.” 

You nodded absently, though you were finding it hard to focus when Spencer looked that good. You forced your gaze to look around and could've sworn you saw something near the conference room, but when you looked again, there was nothing. Maybe Reid was right; maybe it was stress. 

“Did you guys ever see that one episode of Twilight Zone-” Prettiss began helping shift the focus away from you. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The rest of the day went by relatively quickly, as you shifted through case files, picking ones for the team to review. At the end of the day, you turned in your files and waved goodbye to everyone. 

On the train ride home, you listened to music and read a magazine, but that weird feeling was still in the back of your mind. You looked up at the fellow passengers but didn't see anything unusual. You tried to shake it off and go back to reading. Spending the rest of the night trying to relax at home. 

The following morning, you followed your same routine and headed out for the day. You were trying to cross the street when a red car flew past, making you seethe. It wasn’t even 8 am and you had almost been taken out. You shook it off and headed to your favorite cafe. When you were finished there and heading out, a lady held the door open for you, bringing up your foul mood. The rest of the day was similar to the last except when you noticed a red car again on the way home. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

The next two weeks were cut and dry. With a case here and there and, of course, tons of paperwork and cases for you to screen. During your free time, you did your usual, from grocery shopping to runs in the park. Everything was normal and fine except for your mind constantly picking up on the sight of red cars and the random calls from unknown numbers. Your brain hadn’t fully processed what type of car almost hit you, but now it’s like you couldn’t miss any red ones. It was slowly weighing on you as you became hypervigilant, looking for one whenever you were out. Though of course it was a big city and red cars were everywhere, making your nerves futile. Reid gave you the statistic on it when you brought it up. But you still just had a weird feeling that you couldn’t shake. You tried to bring it up to the team, but they all agreed it was a response to almost being hit. So you poured yourself into your work and tried to ignore your unease. Because it had to be irrational, like everyone said. 

It wasn’t until you got back late from a case one night when you got spooked. You exited the company car and headed to your door when you heard heavy footsteps behind you. You whipped your head around to see someone running around the corner up ahead. Why anyone would be running at 3 am you didn’t know, but you just opened your door and eagerly escaped inside. When you entered your living room, you noticed that it smelt weird, almost like peppermint. You walked through the rest of the apartment and didn’t find anything else out of place. The trash in your bathroom had been knocked over, but you assumed it was your cat. The drawer in your bedroom was also ajar, but you probably left it like that as you rushed to pack your go bag. So you went to bed and entered a dreamless sleep. But later on in the night, you woke up to your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You slowly opened your eyes and expected to see Hotch's name, only to find it was an unknown caller again. You groaned and silenced it, going back to sleep. In the morning, you woke up and saw 5 other missed calls from strangers. Sending warning signs off in your mind. But you pushed it aside for now since you were late to work. During your spare time, you stopped by Penelope’s den. 

“Hey Pen think you could run a number for me?” 

“Of course!! Who do you need?”

You gave her your phone and let her do her magic, just for them to be traced back to nothing significant. 

“Looks like it was just spam, y/n; you probably got put on a call list or something.”

“Oh, ok thanks Pen,” you say. You were a little disappointed as you wanted an answer to your unease.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

It wasn’t until you grabbed coffee one morning that you became convinced. The guy behind the counter who always took your order began striking up a conversation. Now normally this wouldn’t be alarming until he brought up the yoga class you used to be in. You never shared this information, and this was textbook stalker behavior. You quickly left for work, ready to slam this guy with a hefty stalking charge as the case formed in your mind. 

You practically ran into the main room eager to tell everyone. To your luck, everyone was congregating around Reid’s desk, likely to watch a magic trick. 

“Guys, I figured it out!! What’s been bothering me, or better yet, who?” 

“Well, tell us,” Emily said excitedly.

“The guy at my coffee shop!!” You say, but they begin shooting unconvinced looks at each other. “Okay, walk with me here. Today he asked about my yoga class that, mind you, I haven’t gone to in 5 months. Or the fact that I see him occasionally walking down the street near the smoothie shop I like. And here’s the cherry on top of the cake. I saw him get into a red car recently!” 

Silence fell across the room as you searched everyone’s faces. They all looked awkward and like they were biting their tongues.

“Guys?” You ask with confidence wavering.

“Well, y/n, it’s a theory all right, but do you have any concrete evidence?” JJ asked dismissively.

Her response irritated you. You weren't dumb and knew she was right, but her complete rejection was what bothered you. You were close to JJ; she trained you in her image when you took over her spot as communications liaison. You didn't think her, of all people, would shut you down so fast.

“I guess not. But how do you explain the yoga thing?” You accuse. 

“Didn’t you always stop there after class?” Emily asks, making you nod in response. “Then he probably noticed you stopped showing up in yoga clothes and with your mat.”

“Yeah, the kid probably made an observation, hardly a stalker sending you letters or anything,” Morgan said. 

You looked at all of them, defeated. Your eyes settled on Reid silently begging him to understand. 

“You can have Penelope run a background check,” Reid says quietly.

“This is why you’re my favorite genius,” you say, feeling relieved someone was taking you seriously.

But when the check came back clean, the team lost full faith in your theory, despite your protests. Hotch went so far as to pull you into his office and offer you time off. Saying this job has a way of messing with your head sometimes. You reassured him that you were fine, but he wasn’t convinced and sent you home early for the day. You were irritated at this point; you knew something had to be happening, but the people you trusted most didn’t believe you. Instead, they chalked it up to strange circumstances. Sure, maybe it wasn’t the coffee worker guy, but you just knew someone was following you. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You felt too restless to go home, so you headed to a place you didn’t frequent often, the movie theater. During the previews, the lady sitting next to you was chatty; you thought it was annoying at first, but her company was refreshing in light of feeling rejected by the team. She looked a bit familiar, but you couldn't place it, chalking it up to her just having one of those faces. But you exchanged Instagrams confirming you didn't know her, then turned your attention to the movie starting. During which she offered you a box of Junior Mints, which you took eagerly. Afterwards, you said goodbye and headed to dinner. Your phone buzzed with her liking the few posts you had up. You stared affectionately at Reid's post, and you decked out in Halloween costumes at the office. Laughing at the memory of being the only two to dress up as the rest poked fun. It made you sad knowing you had been away for only a few hours and were missing them already. The sight of the unknown text flashed across the screen and broke you out of your thoughts and made the hair stand up on the back of your neck. The text read, “Hello, beautiful.”  You had to get out of here. You took a different way home and quickly retreated inside. You paced around your apartment trying to figure out what to do when your phone rang again, but to your relief, it was Reid. 

“Hello Spencer,” you answered anxiously.

“Hi y/n, I wanted to check in on you.” 

At the sound of his voice, you crumpled onto your couch. 

“Thanks, Spence. I’m doing alright, I guess. I’m just anxious. I know what you guys think, but I’m telling you something is going on here.”

“Would you wanna come over and talk about it?” 

Relief washed over you. “God yes, I’ll be there in 15.”

“Ok, see you then,” he says softly and hangs up.

His words gave you a second wind, and you jumped up, gathering things to leave. But as you reached the front door, the sight of a piece of paper on the floor sent chills across your body. You slowly bent down to pick it up and investigate it. It was the magazine you’ve been reading on the train. You had misplaced your copy, but here it was lying on your floor. You drop it and run to your back door. You keep your gun close as you open the door and scan the perimeter. Once you check it’s clear, you run to your car and drive frantically to Spencer’s.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

Your heart was still racing as you got to his door and knocked. Spencer immediately opened the door and welcomed you into his cozy place. You eagerly stepped in, and relief washed over you. Spencer’s apartment was unique in the sense that it was purely his. Hundreds of books lined the wall, and the air smelled of coffee and tea, with fancy leather chairs and sofas. Case files and research notes were scattered around the various surfaces. You’d only been here in passing, dropping him off after a case or to borrow a book. But it felt more like a library than a living space.

“Make yourself at home,” he said while you took your shoes off. 

“Thanks, Spence,” you replied with a sigh.

You made your way into his living room and settled into the couch. You rubbed your face with your hands, trying to process what had transpired today alone. Without missing a beat, Spencer joined you on the couch, holding two steaming mugs of tea, offering you one. He truly knew you better than anyone. You let the comfortable silence of the moment fall over you as you drank. However, your mind was still racing, and you were bouncing your leg anxiously. This made Reid flash you a knowing look.

“Do you think I’m going crazy?” you ask quietly, biting your inner cheek.

“No, y/n, of course not.” He responded quickly and placed his hand on your knee. The contact sent butterflies to your stomach.

“I know something is happening here. But I also know that my evidence is circumstantial. I don’t know what to do,” you murmur. 

You watch as the gears turn in Reid's head and pray his genius worked in your favor. 

“Ok, we’ll treat it like any other case. Start at the beginning and work through it all, analyzing as we go. If there is something I promise we’ll find it y/n” 

“I’ve been trying to do that in my head, but I guess the expertise of a profiler would help,” you joke lightly. 

“Perfect, let's get to work,” he said as he stood up. You watched as he shuffled around his place, grabbing you pen and paper. Then he went to what you assumed was a closet and pulled out a huge whiteboard on wheels, rolling it over to the couch area. 

“Of course you would have one of these at home,” you snicker. 

“Hey, it comes in handy!” 

“Clearly,” you muse. 

“Okay, start from the top and leave nothing out,” he said while uncapping his markers. 

You spent the next few minutes recounting everything that had happened from the unknown calls to the creepy text and magazine appearing near your front door, watching as he scribbled them all down. Seeing them written out like this made you even more nervous. To you, they all seemed suspicious and interconnected, but what if they didn't look that way to Reid? 

“Did you inspect the magazine at all?”

“No, I was so freaked that after I realized what it was, I dropped it immediately.”

“Ok what magazine was it?” 

“The New Yorker,” you reply and watch as he writes it down. 

“Any other texts?” he continued. Making you shake your head no. He then just stares at the board, and you're sure he is in some Reid mind palace stringing things together. 

“Victimology is next,” He muttered and cast a look at you.

He began muttering more as he wrote down basic facts about you. Age, Location, Occupation, etc., but when the word “attractive " was written down, it made you blush. You knew he was doing this from a completely analytical sense, but you were still giddy that Spencer thought that about you. But this wasn't the time to gush over the insane crush you had on him. Even though his sweater clung tighter than normal to his body, highlighting his frame, or the way he pushed the sleeves up, revealing his arms, or how his hands looked while writing. Or how you desperately wished you were hanging out in Spencer's apartment when you weren't a potential victim. You began imagining what it would be like to spend time here together. Cooking dinner together or making out on the couch you were sitting on. 

“Y/n? Earth to y/n.” his voice pulled you out of your daydreams, making you blush violently.

“Yeah, sorry, lost in thought for a second there,” you say sheepishly. 

He made you more nervous as he joined you back on the couch. You watched as he sighed and lightly threw his head back to stare at the ceiling. This was not helping the thoughts you were already having about him. You just admired his features and the way he was so effortlessly perfect. But then he turned to look at you. 

“I hate to ask this, but do you know anyone who would do something like this? Any estranged family members? Bad ex? Statistically speaking, 77% of female victims know their stalkers. It's actually only a small percentage nationwide that have cases of being stalked by a stranger, and this is around 9%,” he rambled in classic Reid fashion. 

You took a second to rake your brain. “Um, I don’t think so. I'm close with my family, and they all live states away. Sure, I have the odd cousin or two, but none of them would do this.”

He asked you more about your childhood and how you grew up. The question a eager distraction from the heavy topic lurking on the whiteboard. Following it up with questions about your previous relationships. You explained your past ones and watched as his jaw tightened over the way one of them treated you. He was eager to place him as a suspect until you said he was married with kids, making him an unlikely candidate. You circled back around to the coffee shop guy but agreed you were quick to place blame out of desperation. Especially since Garcia looked into him. The clock ticked by as Reid continued to pick your brain. The comfort of his apartment and the blanket you had wrapped yourself in was making you sleepy.

“It's probably unlikely, but what if this person saw me on TV? I mean, I’m constantly on there reporting and talking to people for you guys. What if I talked to someone and they took it the wrong way?” you say with a yawn, making him yawn too.

“Have you noticed anyone who would fit that description. Like an old reporter talking to you or someone going completely out of the way to make conversation?” 

“No?” you said sleepily and snuggled deeper into his couch. 

You couldn't fight it anymore and sank, your head resting near Spencer's legs. You let yourself close your eyes and felt sleep creeping in, but you were a bit cramped, desiring more space. 

“Could I use you as a pillow?” you ask, not really thinking.

“Sure, y/n,” he says in his cute, awkward tone. 

You push yourself up a bit to settle your head in his lap, turning on your side to get extra comfortable. Spencer was a bit tense, but after a few moments you felt him relax. His hand found your hair and gently played with it as you fell asleep.

“Oh, I met someone at the movies earlier. But she was nice,” you murmur. 

“Y/n?” Reid asked softly, but you had already fallen asleep. 

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

You weren't sure what time it was when you woke. The room was still dark, but the warmth wrapped around your waist told you everything you needed to know. At some point, Spencer had stretched out beside you on the couch and fallen asleep with his arms around you. You'd never been so grateful to have accidentally drifted off on someone's couch. A smile tugged at your lips as you melted back against him, savoring the comfort of being held. Nestling closer into his embrace, you let yourself drift back to sleep.

Morning light flooded through the apartment, and the sound of a male voice pulled you awake. You blinked your eyes open and immediately noticed Spencer was gone. Glancing around, you found him in the kitchen, pacing back and forth with his phone pressed to his ear. You stayed quiet, hoping to catch what he was saying, but all you heard was a string of subdued “okays" before the call ended. As he lowered the phone, you pushed yourself up from the couch and walked over to him. He turned toward you, his face drained of color. The fear in his expression sent a chill through you before he even spoke.

“A body was found,” he said quietly.

You searched his face, your pulse quickening as he hesitated, as though the next words were almost too difficult to say.

Summer was in full swing, and the 4th of July was here. It was your first full summer in the Bay Area, and you were enjoying the holiday at a coworker's pool party. Ever since you joined the team at Grover Cleveland Middle, you had become close with everyone, but mainly the science teacher Ryland Grace. He had been the one to truly welcome you to the school and teach you the ropes. You had become fast friends, but you’d be lying if you said you didn't have a major crush on him. 

You were currently lounging on a pool floaty, enjoying the last rays of sunshine on your skin. The air was sweet with the smells of summer, from hot dogs to sunblock. Music and laughter floated in the air. It was the perfect summer evening and you were loving it. From the floaty, you admired your coworkers enjoying themselves as you people-watched. However, one face was missing from the crowd: Ryland. You craned your neck to try and find him, but with no luck. He must be in the bathroom or something. So you closed your eyes and tuned out the world out to relax. A few minutes went by when your peace was interrupted by being thrown overboard. You let out a shriek as you fell into the water. When you kicked and broke back to the surface, you saw Ryland's face grinning back at you.

“Oh, you asshole,” you said with a laugh as you splashed him.

He let out a hearty laugh and quickly splashed you back. You cocked your eyebrow at him, and he immediately splashed you again.

“Oh, it's on, Ry,” you shouted, and then pure chaos ensued.

You were frantically splashing each other and were no better than small children. He tried to swim away, but you quickly jumped on his back to weigh him down. He immediately shook you off, then threw you over his shoulder. 

“RYLAND PUT ME DOWN!” You squealed. You looked around to see your coworkers laughing and knew you must look ridiculous. 

“Okay, if you insist,” he shouted as he threw you into the air. Making you land with a big splash. 

You came up once again and threw your hair out of your face, then pointed your finger at Ryland.

“For that, you owe me mermaids!” you exclaim.

“Ugh, fine, but I get the cooler powers this time!” he whines.

“Yeah, no, I get the sparkly pink tail and I for sure am the fastest in the ocean,” you said, then stuck out your tongue. 

This was one of the many reasons why you were falling for Ryland. He made you feel so safe and able to be your goofiest self without fear of judgement. You never had to hide any part of yourself around him, and that feeling was electric.

After hanging out in the pool, you both got out to grab some food, poking fun at each other's choices. You then got whisked away into a conversation with the hostess, leaving Ryland to his own devices. But as you talked to other people, your eyes couldn't help but search for him. More than once, you found him staring back, making a smile tug at both of your lips. Soon the sun had set, and everyone had settled down, waiting for the fireworks to start. You walked around for a minute until you found Ryland sitting at the fire pit with your coworker Elizabeth. You joined them, sitting next to Ry, and the three of you had good conversations, sharing your excitement for the upcoming school year. You guys roasted marshmallows and made s'mores, laughing when Ryland burned his to a crisp. Elizabeth eventually left to get another drink, leaving the two of you alone.

“Are you having a good time?” He asked softly while looking over at you.  

“Yeah, this has been amazing! I never did the whole BBQ party thing on the 4th when I was younger, so this has been refreshing.”

“Same here; the Grace family just watched the fireworks and wore patriotic colors, and that was kinda it.”

“My family was similar but add in a few hot dogs. But honestly, I didn't mind it since the fireworks have always been my favorite part. I just think they’re so pretty,” you say with a grin.

“Well, you're in luck; they should be starting any minute now,” he replies, smiling back.

“Yippee!” 

Sure enough, as you were eating another s'more,  fireworks begin shooting through the sky. You had a great view from where you were sitting and admired how everyone was looking up and appreciating the same thing. The sky was beautiful as colorful streaks filled the air. 

“Oooo, those are my favorite,” you say, pointing to up.

“They are pretty,” he said as he looked at you. “Very pretty.”

You looked over to meet his eyes, and the affection on his face was enough to melt.

“I’m really glad I get to spend the 4th with you, Ry,” you say softly and reach to hold his hand.

“I am too, y/n,”  he replies and interlocks your fingers.

There were pros and cons to being the engineer of the Project Hail Mary. First off, you get to hopefully save Earth, yay! There is always a nice view out of the port windows. Sometimes it's fun to feel like you're in Star Trek racing across the galaxy. But the best part was your great crew member Grace. Not to mention the cute alien best friend you guys had picked up along the way! But then there’s the whole suicide mission, impending doom, no good food, etc etc. But nothing was worse than the memory loss. The memories bloomed and bubbled just below the surface. When they came to the forefront of your mind, they stopped you in your tracks, making you question everything. 

You kept remembering things about your crewmate Grace, ranging from the mundane to things that made you blush. It didn’t help that you were constantly around each other, and Grace was so easy to fall for, especially in his cute science pun shirts. You truly didn’t know what to make of it all, and you could tell Grace didn’t either. How do you navigate falling in love with your crewmate that you had repressed memories about? Especially when you hardly recognized the version of yourself in those memories. You found it had been more comfortable for both of you to pretend as if nothing had changed. Sure, you took stolen glances and cuddled far too often, but these things didn't need to be talked about. You were going to float in space for god knows how long, so the important conversations could wait till later. Yeah, sometimes this was awkward, like that time you woke up together so close you were practically kissing. And avoiding each other didn't work due to Rocky’s constant presence and questions. So it became a situation you never imagined for yourself and were still trying to figure out. 

But after a long day in the lab trying to come up with something useful for your ever-present mission, you all needed to get your mind off things. Grace decided a movie night in the VR room was the remedy- using the extra pillows and blankets to make a fort for you guys to lie in. 

Rocky’s inquisitive nature had inspired you to try to teach him as much as you could about human life through the things you remembered enjoying. You had recently remembered your love for The Breakfast Club, so that was the movie for the night. You spent the next hour or two watching and, of course, answering all of Rocky’s questions. 

“What is guy doing to girl under the table, question?” Rocky asked innocently. Making you burst out laughing and pushing the responsibility to Grace for that explanation. 

Watching as his face flushed when he explained: “Uh, remember how we talked about biology, Rock?” 

“Yes, statement” 

“Well, there you go, pal, now keep watching”. 

Once the movie was finished, you asked Rocky what he thought. 

“Liked but humans are confusing,” 

“Trust me, we know, bud,” you replied lightheartedly. 

“But l/n favorite movie. What other things did l/n like on earth, question?” 

The question took you a bit off guard. You took a moment to try to explore your jumbled brain for the answer. 

“Music. I liked music,” you said quietly, letting the realization wash over you. 

You glanced over at Grace, who sat beside you and gave you the soft look he often does. A sense of sadness washed over you as you couldn’t remember anything else. No songs or lyrics came to mind, and it all felt too heavy. 

“I would like to listen to music, statement,” Rocky exclaimed. 

“Sure, pal, go play something,” Grace replied while running his hand through his hair. 

Rocky rolled his xenonite ball over to the control pad and began hitting random buttons. Music then began to flow through the space, starting with an old classical piece you’re sure you’ve heard before. 

“Eh,” Rocky said, uninterested in the heavy piano symphony. He then began speed-clicking through the songs, leaving you with no time to recognize any. 

“Whoa, Rock, slow down! We can’t listen if you just speed through them,” you exclaimed.

“Oh, statement.” And then abruptly stopped clicking. 

You and Grace both chuckled at the aliens' antics. The song he settled on started with a simple guitar and then the lyrics flowed in. 

"My love must be a kind of blind love

I can't see anyone but you

(Sha bop sha bop)"

“What does sha bop mean, question?” 

“Shh for one sec, Rock, I wanna listen,” you said with a hint of annoyance. 

Something about the song seemed familiar too familiar- and you felt a memory fighting to come to the surface. You looked up at Grace to see a similar expression on his face and knew this had to mean something. You just kept looking into each other's eyes as the song carried on, when suddenly you remembered. 

⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ 

Together you swayed through the reception hall to your song. Your beautiful dress caught the light. You couldn’t help but grin ear to ear, knowing your heart was so full of love that it was overwhelming. You looked up into Ryland's eyes. 

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today, Mrs. Grace?” he murmured sweetly. 

“What can I say? I’m a blushing bride,” you said with a smile. 

He spun you around and brought you back to his chest. “I still can’t believe how lucky I am to be yours, my darling,” he whispered in your ear. 

“I love you so much, Ryland.”

“I love you too, y/n,” he said, then kissed you softly and sweetly. 

⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ 

Tears welled in your eyes as the memories from that special day echoed through your heart. The music. The way Ryland had held you close. The warmth of his hand resting against the small of your back as the two of you swayed beneath soft lights, laughing when you accidentally stepped on his foot. You remembered his smile, the way he'd looked at you as though you were the only person in the room. Your first dance. As the very same song drifted through the speakers overhead, everything clicked into place.

“Ryland," you breathed, barely above a whisper.

"Y/n," he whispered back.

“I remember..." he breathed. “Not everything. But I remember how it felt."

“So do I.”

A smile formed on your lips. Realizing they must have used your maiden name on the suit instead of the one you shared with Grace, your husband.

“Our first dance," you said as tears formed in your eyes.

A shaky laugh escaped both of you.

“Our first dance," he repeated, smiling through tears.

He reached out with a gentle hand, cupping your cheek and brushing away your tears with his thumb. You let out a watery laugh, hardly believing it had taken this long to realize what had been in front of you all along.

He leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to your lips.

“I missed you, darling," he murmured, tears spilling down his own cheeks.

He pulled back just enough to reach beneath his shirt, with trembling fingers unclasping the necklace he had worn every day since waking up. He gently opened your palm and let the chain settle there. Your breath caught.

“I kept these close," he said softly. “I didn't know why."

Two wedding rings rested against your palm. Your vision blurred with fresh tears.

“We woke up wearing them,” he continued. “I took them off because...I didn't know what they meant and didn't want to overwhelm you. I was hoping that maybe one day we'd understand." Looking down at the rings before meeting your eyes again.

“I think this is that day,” he said softly.

With trembling fingers, you slid the bands from the chain. Without a word, you held yours out to him. Ryland looked down at it, then back at you. His lip quivered as understanding settled over him. Everything faded away as you looked longingly at each other.

“I think..." he said with a shaky laugh. “I think we forgot our wedding."

You smiled through your tears.

“Then let's have it again."

His eyes widened, filled with emotion. Right there on the floor, surrounded by fragments of a life that you were only beginning to remember, you held out your left hand.

“I choose you,” you whispered. “Even without the memories. I still choose you. I will always choose you, Ryland.” 

“And I choose you,” he replied. “Not because I remember every moment we shared before all this…but because my heart remembered and has always known it was you. In every universe it's always you.”

“I might not remember our vows,” you admitted. 

With a small shake of his head. “I don't either.”

“Or who cried first.” 

“Oh definitely me,” Ryland mused, making a smile tug at your lips.

“But I remember dancing with you, Ry.”

“And I remember how it felt to hold you in my arms,” he whispered. “Knowing that I’d spend the rest of my life loving you. ” 

His fingers trembled as he slipped your wedding ring back where it belonged. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you reached for his left hand.

“I don't need every memory, only this promise. I promise to spend the rest of my life falling in love with you. Even if I were to forget you again tomorrow, I would fall in love with you again. No matter what might happen to us, my heart is forever yours,” you say while gently slipping his ring on. 

“I love you, Ryland Grace.”

“I love you, y/n l/n” 

He looked down at your joined hands, your wedding rings catching the light. 

“We may never remember everything, but this love is all I need,” you said, pressing your lips to his. 

Without another word, he stood and offered you his hand. You took it, rising to meet him. Rocky, miraculously getting the hint, replayed your song. He wrapped his arms around you and gently guided you across the VR room floor, dancing once more. For the first time since waking up, neither of you worried about the memories still missing. Your love had remembered, and that was more than enough. Knowing you’d chosen each other all over again.

Today was like any Monday, waking up to Ryland's heartbeat after spending the night in his arms. The comfort was intoxicating, and it felt nearly impossible to pull yourself out of his arms to get ready for work early. But you were eager to start the day knowing what awaited you tonight, wasting no time in getting ready, you threw on your history-pun T-shirt. Then kissed a sleeping Ryland goodbye. You left the apartment silently and left quickly for school. You were both teachers at Grover Cleveland Middle School, often driving together, but today you wanted to get in early to catch up on grading, opting to carpooling so Ryland wouldn't have to bike in the dreary weather.

Maybe it was your excitement, but the school day seemed to carry on forever. The grading period was closing soon, so things always seemed to pile up, from emails from parents to students trying to turn in missing work from the first week; it was enough to make you stressed and anxious. Coupled with the fact that you were unable to spend lunch with Ryland and instead pored over grading tests. Despite being both being teachers it felt like your schedules were constantly clashing.

Eventually, you heard the final bell and sighed in relief, knowing you met your goal of completing enough grading for the day. After tidying up your classroom and gathering your belongings, you headed over to his room. Students were still flowing through the halls, with a few running to catch the bus. You entered Ryland's room to see him engaged with some students. They all turned to you with a smile and said hello. While you and Ryland did your best to hide your relationship in school, the students weren't dumb and knew better, even making a slideshow of “evidence” of your “situationship”. Ryland nudged the straggler students out and turned his attention to you.

“I'm heading out for the day. Are you ready, Ry?” You asked while playing with the sack of lava situated on his desk, one of the many trinkets you've gifted him over the years.

“I'm sorry, my love. I gotta stay back and grade for just a little bit longer,” he responded with a sigh, then head planted into his desk to be extra dramatic.

You just chuckled, knowing his usual antics, and walked around the desk to rub your hand on his back. “Ok, love, have fun grading. I’d like to leave by 8 tonight, so try to get home soon, okay?

“Aye aye, captain! I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said while bringing his head up to look at you.

You still can't get over that this gorgeous man was all yours. You looked around and, after assessing that nobody was there, placed a quick kiss on Ryland's lips, then said your goodbyes. Leaving off with a pinky promise that he'll be home soon.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When you got home, you decided to take a nap, wanting to be energized for tonight. A few months ago, you had bought tickets to a planetarium show as a once-in-a-while splurge for you and Ryland. He has been talking about it nonstop since you purchased them, making you eager to have a good time tonight. It was nearly 7 when you woke up; you called out for Ryland, only to be met with silence. It was odd he wasn't home by now, so you shot him a quick text and then reheated some leftovers, not thinking too much about Ry's lateness as he was often this way. You then got ready, doing your hair and makeup nicely and putting on a fancy dress you’ve been saving for this exact occasion. But as the clock dwindled closer and closer to 8, your stomach filled with nerves. Ryland wasn't answering any of his texts or calls, and you weren't sure what to do. Your mind tried to come up with solutions to why he was late: maybe he was getting flowers, or the car broke down, or maybe a cat got stuck in a tree. The absurdity of these scenarios only got worse as time went on. You kept trying his cell, only to be met with voicemail, making you feel utterly hopeless, with no way to contact him or get to him since he had the car. Forcing you to sit and wait as you felt sicker and sicker.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

It was almost 9 when Ryland stumbled through the door, looking worse for wear. You immediately bolted off the couch, rushing over to make sure he was alright. You did a once-over, not seeing any damage, and the concern was quickly replaced by a bubbling madness.

“Where the hell were you?” You demanded with a jab of your finger into his chest.

“Y/n, I'm so sorry I got carried away grading! Isabelle wrote this 12-pager about Jupiter, and I accidentally reverted to grad school Ry and was analyzing it for far too long. When I realized it was late, I wanted to call, but my phone died, and I left my charger here,” he explained while setting his stuff down and moving into the apartment.

“Okay, I can understand that for any other night but tonight, when we’ve had set plans for months!” You exclaimed with anger slowly rising in your voice.

With that, it was like Ryland finally looked at you and took it all in, from the dress to the heels; the dawn of realization that he fucked up washed over him. For being a genius of sorts, it sure can take him a while to remember details outside of the science sphere.

“Oh, y/n, I don't even know how to begin saying sorry. But here I'll change real quick, and if we speed to get there, we should have plenty of time, right?” he said, rubbing his face.

“No, Ryland, we don't have plenty of time; you ruined that by being an hour late! It takes 45 minutes to get there, and by the time we do, the doors will be closed.”

“I'm sorry-”

“I really don't want to fucking hear it. You know how much this night meant to me. Hell, what about what it meant to you? I spent months pinching pennies and putting paychecks toward these tickets. I even got you those stupid vip ones that cost a fortune.”

“Well, you didn't have to do that! We didn't need vip and if you would've told me how expensive they were, I could've pitched in!”

“That's not the point here, Ryland!” not bothering to hide your anger anymore.

“Then make it,” he said with a heavy sigh.

“I don't care about the money; I care that we had plans made, and all you had to do was be ready at a certain time, and you couldn't even do that. I just wanted to spend time with you, Ryland, time with the man I love. The man who's spent more time with his gradebook than with his girlfriend!”

“Y/n, that's not fair. You know it's the busy season for grading, and I need to get my work done. I can't disappoint my students.”

“What about disappointing me? Does that matter to you?”

“How can you say that? Of course you know that I never want to disappoint you.”

“Well, guess what, Ryland? I'm both incredibly hurt and disappointed. I can't seem to figure out why I'm not a priority. What have I done wrong to not be one?" you said, shouting at this point.

“Nothing! You've done nothing wrong!” he yelled back in desperation.

“Then why the hell does this keep happening, huh? You've already flaked on two dates this month alone from grading. Or when I go to sleep at night, you're still at the kitchen table obsessing over your work. I feel like I hardly have time with you anymore, and it's killing me. That's why I wanted tonight. Just one night where we push everything aside and just focus on us. You looked me in the eye and promised me, and now you can't even do that. How am I supposed to believe anything you say when you can't even keep the one thing you promised? It's like your promises don't mean anything anymore, and that hurts, Ryland; it really fucking hurts.” you yell while tears stream down your face.

“I don't know what you want me to say. You know I'm dedicated to my students and their quality of education. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you or us! I didn't mean to break my promise; I just got carried away.”

“Ok, but when does dedication turn to obsession? All you do is work; you can't detach from it. Even on weekends, your head is in the clouds, and I'm so tired of trying to pull you back down.” you exclaimed while throwing your hands in the air.

"Well, what do you want me to do, y/n? I can't just stop teaching the way I do or being dedicated, so please stop acting like it's that simple. And before you tell me to teach or grade like you do, you already know I can't. That kind of structure doesn't work for me, and you know that. So what is it you want from me? Do you want me to change who I am? To force myself to care less? To stop being so involved? To stop being the teacher my students need, just because it's easier for date night? Because that's what it feels like you're asking me to do," he spat.

"I'm not saying that, Ryland, and you know it. I'm not asking you to change who you are or stop caring about your students. I love that about you. But I'm begging you to find a balance here. I want to be dating Ryland, not Dr. Grace, all the time. I need moments where work stays at work, and you focus on us. Not the version of you that's always answering emails, thinking about lesson plans, or worrying about your students. I'm not asking you to care less. I'm asking you to make room for us, too."

Ryland lets out a frustrated laugh, dragging a hand over his face before looking at you, with tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

"That's the thing, you're talking about me like I'm two different people. But Ryland and Dr. Grace are the same person. I don't clock out and suddenly become someone else. Teaching isn't a switch I can flip off when I walk through the front door. It's part of who I am. You say you want me to find a balance between the two, but I don't know what that looks like. There isn't a line separating them. The way I care, the way I show up for people, the way I throw myself into something that's me. That's who I've always been. So when you ask me to be “just Ryland”, it feels like you're asking me to leave a part of myself behind. And I don't know how to do that without feeling like I'm failing someone, my students… or you," his voice becoming shaky from crying.

The words hung in the air, and all you could do was stare at him. Then slowly shake your head.

“No, you're really not hearing me, Ryland,” you replied with tears streaming down your face.

"I'm not asking you to stop being a teacher or to give up parts of yourself. I know teaching is part of who you are; that's one of the reasons I fell in love with you."

Letting out a shaky breath, you tried to keep your voice steady.

"But this job can't be all of who you are."

He opened his mouth to speak, but you shook your head.

"Please...just let me finish."

You were struggling to get the words out through your tears.

"You keep hearing me say that I want you to stop caring, but that's not it. I'm saying I need to know that there's room for me, too. I need to know that this job and relationship can coexist,"

A humorless laugh escaped you.

"I spent months convincing myself that asking for your full attention was selfish because your students needed you more. Telling myself that when you pushed me aside, it was okay because you were doing something important."

Your voice cracked.

"But somewhere along the way, I stopped feeling important or a priority and started feeling like I was waiting for moments when your students didn't need you that day.

The confession lingered between you.

"I didn't know it felt like that for you," he said quietly, his voice strained. "I swear, I didn't.”

He ran a hand through his hair, struggling to find the right words.

"But I don't know how to explain this in a way that makes it sound different from what I already said,” he admitted. "Because to me, there isn't a clear separation. I don't see how I'm two different people. I just see... me. I haven’t been trying to pick them over you. I’ve just been trying to keep up with everything I care about."

His jaw tightened slightly, conflicted.

“But you truly don’t see a difference from the dedication you have to work compared to us?” You managed to choke out.

“I guess, I don’t know y/n,” he said with a sob.

You shook your head, tears falling faster.

"Do you have any idea how that feels to hear?"

Silence.

The weight of everything finally became too much.

You turned away, bracing both hands against the cool kitchen counter as you fought to steady your breathing. The room was painfully quiet except for your uneven sniffles and Ryland's panicked breaths behind you.

After a long moment, you turned back around. He looked broken. His glasses had been knocked off sometime during the argument, his hair was a mess from repeatedly dragging his hands through it, and the color had drained from his face. He looked just as exhausted as you felt.

“I can't keep doing this, Ryland,” you said quietly.

“I can't keep having this same fight. I can't keep feeling like the second best to a fucking job. I just can't anymore.”

A tear rolled down your cheek.

"I love you so much. God, I love you," you sobbed.

Your voice broke completely.

"But I don’t want our love to keep feeling like me begging you to make room for me."

He took a step towards you.

“What are you saying?” he asks, his own voice breaking.

Your body shakes as you fight out the next words.

"I think..." You swallowed hard. "I think we need some space."

His face fell.

"I think we need to take a break."

The silence that followed was deafening. Part of you instantly regretted it, but you had no other solution. After months of feeling like this you had finally reached the breaking point.

“No, no, no. We're not doing this, y/n. I refuse to. I can't lose you, please, no,” he sobbed while crumpling to the floor, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“I'm sorry, but I can't keep getting hurt and feeling like second best,” you replied, your voice breaking.

“Please, y/n, I'll do anything, just stay with me,” he said, looking up at you.

“Ryland, we just need time. Time to figure out whether this relationship can survive the career demands you set for yourself. Time to understand what we want our future to look like...and what we'll both have to do to get there. Okay?” with each word coming out shakier than the last.

You crumpled to the floor with him and held each other while you cried. You lost track of how long you spent in that fragile moment. But you eventually pulled away to hold his tear-stained face in your hands.

“I’m gonna go stay with a friend tonight, okay. I just need a few days, then we can revisit this.”

“You promise?” he said with a sob.

“I promise, Ry,” you said and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · The next few days had been complete and utter hell. Your friend had been gracious enough to let you sleep on her couch, but it proved to be extremely uncomfortable, not to mention that you couldn't sleep well without Ryland anymore. You felt like you had been moving like a ghost through the halls of school this week. You had never been this unhappy in your position and felt lost without Ryland's presence. You thought the distance was what you needed, but it's proving to be nothing but suffocating.

It was finally the end of the day on Friday. You sat at your desk, trying to update a lesson plan, but your eyes kept drifting to the window. Then they landed on Ryland's bike, resting in the bike rack outside, and that was all the encouragement you needed. In that moment, you realized you didn't give a damn how difficult this relationship could be at times. The love you shared made every challenge worth it. You knew deep down that Ryland would do anything for you, knew that he makes you feel loved and seen like no other. That this was just a bump in the relationship, one you could get through together. Making a promise to yourself to do whatever it takes.

You shot up from your desk, determined to find Ryland and kiss him until he carried you home. Without a second thought, you raced toward his classroom, unwilling to waste another moment before making things right.

When you arrived, his room was empty. You cursed yourself for not looking out the window sooner. Refusing to give up, you changed course and sprinted toward the parking lot, determined to catch him before he left.

As you approach the bike rack, you see him in his yellow rain jacket, but a certain sight stops you in your tracks. He was engaged in conversation with a red-headed lady in a coat, accompanied by a bodyguard-looking gentleman. You watched helplessly as he got into their car and drove away, taking away your chance. Leaving you heartbroken and wondering whether promises could ever truly be kept.

The New York summer heat made the bar extra sticky, and sweat seemed to cling to your skin. You moved to the city to fulfill the goal of spending your twenties in the city life. But so far, you've found it a lot less glamorous than your favorite shows made it seem. It wasn't even your second week when you stumbled into Josie's Bar seeking comfort behind a drink, complaining to the women behind the bar about your lack of employment. The lady took pity on you, and now you've been working as a bartender for the last month. 

As you've become settled into the bar life, you started remembering regulars and drink orders, from the couple who always sang nauseating love songs for karaoke to the burly guy who loved his cosmopolitans. But no regular quite caught your eye as the blind gentleman and his two friends did. From Josie and your love for eavesdropping, you knew he was Mr. Matt Murdock, attorney at law for Hell's Kitchen. Maybe it was the suit or the way he carried himself, but the second he walked through the door, your eyes were transfixed on him all night. However, your relationship was made up of simple exchanges: an order placed, lots of small talk, but any chance you got would often be interrupted by his lively friends whisking him away. 

It was no different tonight; the trio had ordered their usual rounds and had settled into a game of pool. You watched with envy as the blonde taught Matt how to play, scoffing to yourself cause you knew, after countless observations, that he was the best player in here. Thank god his other friend came over to ruin the moment, or you might have melted into the floor right then and there. You didn't want to dislike the pretty blonde; she was sweet and tipped well. She just happened to be too close to the man you had a hopeless crush on, pathetic, you know. 

The night carried on, and your attention was carried away from the pool table as you made drinks and conversed with others. The bar seemed to only get hotter as more people shuffled in and drinks flowed. You entered into your work trance only to be broken towards the end of the night when Josie appeared from the back to check up on you. You talked with her for a while, but as she spoke, your eyes kept drifting back to Matt, who was now stationed at a table, laughing with his friends. 

“For God's sake, you're no better than a cartoon character: your eyes should be popping out of your head and tongue rolling out if you keep looking at him like that, sugar!” Josie exclaimed and pointed her head in that direction. 

Embarrassment rose to your cheeks, and you prayed the heat would offer a decent excuse. “Yeah, okay, nice joke! Not sure where you're getting that from, but I'm looking at him like I would any other customer,” you replied, lying through your teeth.

Josie snorted, “Oh please, you're like a lovesick puppy!” making you roll your eyes in response. “So you mean to tell me if he came over right now and asked you out that you wouldn't be over the moon and say yes?”

“No?” But the hesitancy in your voice was all she needed to confirm what she already knew. 

“Sure, sugar, whatever you say. Well, I’m leaving. Do a simple close; it's too goddamn hot to do it all right now, and for heaven's sake, don't burn down my bar.” You gave her a simple response and sent her on her way. 

The closing hour crowd dwindled, and the bar became quiet with only a few patrons remaining. You cut everyone off earlier than usual, rushing through clean up in hopes of getting back to the AC in your apartment. Matt and his friends were the last ones in there, and the blonde dude came up to close out. You noticed Matt wasn't with him and saw him heading to the bathroom. Making you sigh, since you wouldn't get one last chance to ogle him for the night. 

“Hey, sorry for having to put up with us for so long tonight! We had a huge win in court today and just had to celebrate.” He said while handing you some money for the tab.

You gave him a smile in return. “No worries, that's what we're here for. Congratulations on the win!”

“Thanks! Have a good night!” he replied, getting ready to leave the bar.

“You too; get home safe! Oh wait!”

“Yeah-” 

“Could you do me a favor and get your friend out of the bathroom and any other stragglers?” you asked since you really didn't want to potentially kick your crush out mid-stream. 

“Yup, I got you!” and he went on his way. 

You knew you could trust them, so you headed to the back to clean some of the last dishes. You heard someone call out, “Night,” not even a minute later, accompanied by the sound of the door closing, so you assumed everyone was out and hurried to the front to lock up. You hit the lights to just the ambient buzz of the ancient fixtures nestled above the bar and pool table, and returned to the purgatory that was back of house. You got the trash together and headed to the cans out back. When you came back in, you went through the main back entrance so you could lock that door as well. But when you turned around, you saw a man standing in the middle of the bar, eliciting a scream from your lungs. 

“Hey, it’s okay; it's just me, Matt!” He exclaimed. Your eyes adjusted, and you did, in fact, see Mr. Matt Murdock standing like a lost dog, looking equally as bewildered as you. Embarrassment rose through your face once more, and you cringed at the squeal he just heard.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry! What are you still doing here? I told your friend Fog something…to retrieve you before I locked up,” you said, panicked as your heart rate barely began to calm down. You decided to walk closer to him, feeling stupid for practically shouting to talk to him.

“Ah, Foggy. Yeah, he can be quite unreliable at passing along a message,” he replied with something in his voice you couldn't quite place. You just stared at him for a moment, not knowing exactly what to say or do. Then your eyes flickered to the door, and you realized you needed to let him out before he thought you were some sort of weirdo.

“Um, well, let me get the door for you. Probably don't want to be trapped in an empty bar any longer, right?” you quipped as you began walking to the door with the sound of his cane following you. “That would be nice. Thank you,” he said.  Your mind seemed to be doing somersaults after this less-than-ideal situation, but one thought stopped you altogether. When will you ever get the chance to talk or spend time one-on-one with him again, sure you had already felt like you made a fool of yourself, but it's not like it could get much worse than practically trapping this man in. When you reached the door, you turned to face him and desperately searched the room for some opportunity. Your eyes settled on the pool table when the scene of him and the blonde played in your head, and then an opportunity. It might be crazy, but hey, you had nothing to lose.

“Hey, I know this is a big ask, and if you don't want to, I fully understand. Could you help me set up the pool tables? I always do it wrong, and I can't deal with Josie yelling at me again!” You say, hopefully, with enough begging in your voice to get across without seeming desperate. Your heart was in your ass as you saw your words register.

“Sure, lead the way!” he said with a smile that practically made you melt. So you excitedly led him back over to the table. 

Not knowing quite what to say, you moved silently to grab some of the pool cues and placed them on the rack while begging your mind to come up with some sort of conversation.

“So not a pool girl, huh?” he asked, his words catching you off guard as you watched him place some balls in the triangle. Your eyes flickered to watch his hands, and heat prickled your cheeks.

“No, last time I played I hit the ball off the table; still not sure how that one happened,” you mused, earning a laugh in response. 

“Oh man, I can't wait to tell Foggy I found someone worse at pool than him!” 

“Eh, well, I’ve seen how he plays, so our skill level can't be too far apart,” you joked back. 

“Youre not wrong there, y/n!” 

“Besides, if I had a good teacher, I’m sure I would be better than Foggy in no time!” you respond with a hint of suggestiveness in your voice.  At this point, why not try to flirt with him? He flashes you that gorgeous grin back, and you pray this goes well.

“Well then, it’s settled: I’m going to have to teach you right now! I've got no time to waste on something this important. Grab some cues,” this response making you smile ear to ear. 

The lesson began with him teaching you how to set up while you tried to memorize it. He rattled off different rules and procedures. When you guys started playing, your skills earned some chuckles from Matt as you kept getting his balls in or missing entirely. With the help of some beers and Matt's coaching, you began feeling more comfortable. But after a particularly horrible shot, he came up behind you to guide your arms and position your body, sending butterflies straight to your stomach. It was no use; your face was on fire, but at least he didn't know that. You assumed that he would move, but Matt stayed locked behind you, and you shamelessly took advantage of that by sinking further into his touch. His dress shirt felt soft and welcoming against your bare arms, making you realize you felt rather naked in your tank top and skirt compared to the man in the suit behind you, but none of that truly mattered in this moment. As you kept playing with him intertwined behind you, he’d murmur a praise or two close to your ear when the shots lined up, making the butterflies in your stomach ravenous. 

You hadn't realized how much closer you'd gotten as time went on, with your back pressed into his chest. As you finished up, you set your cue down and turned around to face him, his hands quickly returning to your arms as you examined the gorgeous man in front of you. Fixating on his lips and just how badly you wanted to kiss him, you weren't sure if it was the liquid courage or what, but every part of your being said go for it. Leaning in, you thought, if this goes wrong, you could say you were brainwashed by an alien or something; it's happened before in New York! So you know what fuck it, and you crashed your lips into his.

He was stunned for a second, but then immediately kissed you back, starting soft, but as your hands found his chest, he deepened it. You threw all caution to the wind as you wrapped your arms around him and met your tongue with his. His hands left your arms and explored your sides as he pushed your thighs against the table, pushing you to sit on the ledge while he explored your kiss. You let your hands explore his body, grabbing his tie to deepen the kiss. It was hot and felt right, and nothing else seemed to matter. You allowed yourself to wrap your legs around him and sink onto the table. He followed you down and began pulling the sides of your tank top up. 

Suddenly, all the lights shut off, making you both break away in annoyance when you remembered Josie's autosystem that shuts everything off after a certain hour. The abrupt interruption made you realize the rather obscene situation you found yourself in, making you push onto your elbows with a small laugh that earned another charming smile from Matt. 

“So tomorrow night, me you dinner?”

“It's a date!” you said, then pulled him in for another kiss.