p

Smurf slaps him, "We're not killing a girl you had on your fuckin' payroll. The people at Lena's school know her because you can't raise your own fuckin' kid. So you're gonna listen to me about your daughter."

Baz snarls and walks to the other side of the kitchen.

"This is such bullshit. Just cos Pope is all heart eyes for her? Not like you, Smurf, to get sentimental," he says.

Smurf bares her teeth like a wild animal.

"We don't kill women because we lose our temper. Get the fuck out of my house," she hisses.

Smurf finds you later, after you've brought Lena for ice cream. She pouts at the cuts on your face.

"Lena, why don't you go to the pool?" Smurf suggests as the little one runs off.

"Now, sweetheart, I can't let you go back to Baz's house. Not after what he did to you. But Lena needs someone to take care of her. I was thinking you could move in here to help me with her," she said, fixing your hair.

You frown. You don't trust Smurf. You've known so many women like her. But you also know not to get on your bad side. Thankfully Pope comes to your rescue, stepping into the kitchen. He puts an arm around your waist.

"She's moving in with me, Smurf," he says in a tone that doesn't leave room for argument.

"And what about Lena?" Smurf asks. "Baz clearly can't take care of his own daughter."

You shake your head, "No. I'll still nanny for her. I just won't be a live in nanny. I...maybe I could take her instead of Baz's? If that's not overstepping. She just loves being with you Smurf. She is always talking about you and the pool!"

Smurf smiles at you, her eyes narrowing for a moment. She's not an idiot. But she'll allow it. You're making Andrew happy.

"Of course, sweetheart," she says softly. "You can sleep here with Lena when Baz isn't around. I think that's for the best."

You smile and nod your head, "Of course, I think that would be perfect. She needs a strong woman in her life now that her mother is...gone."

Later as you sit in Pope's truck, you look at him, "Are you sure you want me to move in with you?"

He sniffs, "Where else are you gonna go? Not back to Baz."

You roll your eyes, "Ain't you romantic?"

But you like living with Pope. He always makes you breakfast in the morning, telling you that you need to start your day with food rather than running on coffee for hours. He likes having you here as well. Pope can't sleep. But with the weight of you on his chest, he sleeps like a baby. Although on the nights he can't, he can wake you up with rough hands and soft kisses.

You adore that as well. Pope could spend hours eating you out, just drowning in your pussy. He makes you cum over and over and over. Until you have to pull him up and away from you. And he'll look at you with his eyes almost black. If he's not between your legs, he's at your tits, kissing and palming at them for hours on end. You don't even think it's sexual anymore, it's like a comfort for him. A soother... And if that's what Andrew needs you give it to him.

But you adore when he's inside you. Hard and deep, slamming his hips against yours. He manhandles you, having you in breeding press, kissing you desperately. Or he'll flip you onto your stomach, you love how he fucks you prone bone. Sometimes he'll hook his thick bicep around your neck, making your eyes roll back on your head. You love riding him on the couch after a long day.

When you stay at Smurf's you tell him sex is off the table. You know she's listening. But Pope can't keep his hands off of you. And Smurf isn't an idiot, she sees how Pope hangs on your every word. So after a few months of you living between her home and Pope's, she does some digging into your background.

You're folding laundry in the kitchen when Smurf approaches you.

"Hey baby," she coos, calling you the name she reserves for her sons and grandson. "Where did you say you grew up?"

You look up at her and smile.

"I didn't, Smurf. But I grew up the other side of San Diego. But I haven't been back since I was eighteen. I started applying for au pair jobs in my senior year of high school," you explain. "So I left a few days after graduation."

Smurf hums, "And no one cared about your time in juvenile detention?"

You freeze and look up at her.

"My records were sealed after I turned eighteen," you tell her. "So no one needs to know."

"I have my people...and my people found that you did 18 months for robbery and breaking and entering," she says with a hum. "Must have been tough for your foster family."

You twist your mouth in annoyance. You hate talking about your past.

"Yes, Smurf. I grew up in foster care. CPS took me away when I was eight. I was still cute then, got a nice foster family," you say with a shrug. "But then they got pregnant. Triplets! And I was thirteen and starting to act out. So I went back to foster care. Bounced around families for a while. You know how many foster dads are creeps?"

You scrub your hand over your face.

"So I learned how to pickpocket. I just wanted enough money so I could get an apartment. I made friends with a few of the rich kids in the area. And I'd case their places when they weren't around. One of their parents found me. I thought they were on a trip...Her dad was a lawyer so I was screwed."

You look at Smurf, "Is that a problem?"

Smurf smiles at you and pulls you in for a hug.

"Oh baby, you're perfect."

You're not stupid. You are very aware how to Cody family get their money. You're not there for the meetings or the jobs, of course. And you like to play dumb for Smurf, although you're sure she can see through you. But both of you play this game, pretending you don't know what the other one knows. And she likes you like this. Still pliant to her.

You know when the boys are doing a job because Smurf will give you the day off. She'll keep Lena in the house. And you will wait patiently for Pope to come home. It is always a variant on the same theme when he finally walks in the door of your now shared home. Sometimes he will take you desperately, needing to be buried inside you. He'll push you onto hands and knees or press you into the couch and just bury his weeping cock in you with rough, angry thrusts. Other times, you can see the tears threatening to fall from his eyes and he'll kiss you desperately. He'll slowly rock his hips against yours, hiding his face in your neck as you can feel soft sobs rack his body. Sometimes, rarely, he's happy. It's gone well, and sex is soft and smooth and gentle.

One day you're fixing Lena's hair and you overhear Baz talking to Smurf.

"People who have nannies have money," he tells her. "You said she used to do this shit. Why can't she scope out a few places for us? Even just fuckin' job interviews. I don't know. Babysitting gigs so it's not too permenant."

You can hear Smurf take a sharp intake of breath, "We only do jobs with people in the family."

You can practically hear Baz's eyeroll at that.

"She's not doing the job she's just-"

Pope cuts him off, "We're not involving her in this. She doesn't need to be a part of this shit."

"What Pope?" Baz suddenly snaps causing Lena to flinch next to you. "You think you can just run off with her into the sunset? You're sick in the head, man. And soon she'll fuckin' see that. She's gonna drain your wallet and then leave you."

On the drive home, you can tell that Pope is withdrawn. You can see the gears in his head working overtime. You hate that Baz can get to him like that. You reach out and run your fingers through his curls but he flinches away from you. You try not to let it affect you. You know it's Baz and his family who have worked their way under his skin. But still, Pope has never been upset with something you've done.

You make him dinner in silence. Pope likes the quiet but when he finally looks up at you, he sees the hurt etched across your face.

"I'm sorry," he gruffs out. "I just...Baz always says shit like that. Says how I'm weird and I'm not weird."

"No baby, you're not weird," you soothe, stroking his knuckle with your thumb.

"I just...You know...With my family, it's hard. I don't know Smurf was never a proper mother to us. First time I saw someone die I was six. She used have sex with these men in front of me and Julia. And we just thought all o' that was normal. And she likes...She likes when I'm angry. I know she wants to keep me angry. But I don't want to be angry. I want a normal life."

He take a deep breath, "But I don't know how to be normal. I wanna be normal for you. I really do. I don't wanna be Smurf's muscle or Baz's fuckin' punchline."

You look at him, watching the tears roll down his freckled cheeks. You brush each away with soft kisses to his flushed skin. You just want to take him away from this, from his family, from Oceanside.

"Baz thinks no one would wanna be with me. That you'll leave. He thinks no one will settle down and have a baby with me," he sobs.

This makes you pause.

"I wanna have a baby with you, Andrew," you tell him ever so gently.

His eyes flick up to yours as if assessing the situation. Were you being serious? A baby...with him?

"You wanna have a baby with me?" he echoes.

You nod your head, pulling him in for a desperate and messy kiss. You moan against his lips which is enough to have Andrew Cody gripping your hips and lifting you onto his lap. Your hips work on their own rolling against his thick thigh, your skirt bunching up around your waist as as your grind on him. Your clit bumps over the rough fabric of his jeans under the cotton of your panties. But Pope never breaks this kiss.

"Put a baby in me, Andrew, please," you beg desperately.

"You needa cum first," he responds.

It's like you can do it on command because after a handful more rocks of your hips you're soaking his thigh. He grunts out in appreciation and then grips the meat of your ass to lift you onto the table.

He falls to his knees, pulling your panties down your legs. His eyes zero in on your sopping wet cunt that is clenching around the air desperate for him. He doesn't give you a second before he starts eating you out. Pope loves giving you head, could (and has) spent hours between your legs. But today he is on a mission. He zeros in on your clit, sucking and slurping desperately. He knows exactly how to pull you apart and he does in record time. You come undone over his tongue to his satisification. He moans out into your cunt. He could cum from this as well, but he can't. Not when you've asked him so sweetly to put a baby in you.

Finally he stands, unbuckling his belt so he can push his jeans and boxers his thick cock finally free. It rests heavy against his black t-shirt that he still hasn't taken off. But he's desperate for you. And getting you pregnant is his number one priority. He presses inside you in one fluid motion. He doesn't let you adjust. He just splits you open. He's worked you over so well, he slips in without an issue. And then he's off to the races.

He hooks your knees over his forearms, spreading you wide and he slams into you. His heavy balls slam against your ass as he fucks you.

"Gonna put a baby in ya. Gonna see you so fuckin' full. And I ain't ever gonna let you leave," he grunts in your ear.

His words go straight to your cunt and you honestly don't know how many times you cum over his cock until he stutters to a stop. Thick walls of cum coat your walls. But he doesn't pull out. He just presses his weight on you for a few minutes. Your chests heaving in time with one another.

When he eventually moves, he presses two thick fingers inside you.

"Can't waste it. Not when I gotta get you pregnant."

And Pope takes his job very seriously. Every morning and every night he's inside you. If you're free in the afternoon, he pounces. If the two of you are alone he's fucking you. And you love it.

"Is Pope tryna eat you?" Deran asks as you sit by the pool in a bikini that showcases all the hickies Pope has left on your body. There are bruises in the shape of his fingers as well around your hips, ass and even the hint of them on your neck.

You roll your eyes at him.

"Don't be jealous cos you're hard up," you say before jumping in the pool and splashing him.

Out of all of Pope's family, you like Deran the best. If Pope's not around, you usually cling to him. He also has a short fuse for Baz's bullshit. Which is ongoing in the kitchen right now.

"Are we still paying her?" he snaps at Smurf who is counting out cash.

Smurf's eyes flick up, "You hired her because you couldn't take care of your daughter. So yes. We are."

"Well she's not doing a good job is she."

Pope grabs a beer from the fridge, "Lena's at school. You'd know if you spent any time with your kid."

He storms out to the backyard with Baz hot on his heels.

"You think you're a big man now cos you're getting your dick wet?" Baz snarls.

Pope doesn't respond as he watches you in the water.

"I mean, it looks like she'll spread her legs for any of us. Number three is right there," Baz says, nodding to where you and Deran are in the pool.

This catches Pope's attention. He turns and looks at Baz then.

"What's that supposed to mean?" his growls, his whole face darkening.

"You think she was living in my house, with me and not givin' it up? Come on. I'm a hot blooded man! You were always obsessed with my sloppy seconds. Ri-"

But Baz doesn't get to finish his sentence before Pope lunges. Pope is on top of him, landing punch after punch. But Baz is sly and digs him in the ribs. Smurf hears the commotion and comes to watch by the door. You're jumping out of the pool immediately.

Smurf sees you and sighs, "That's enough boys."

Usually her word is law but they're too caught up in the fight to hear anything.

"Andrew, that's enough," you bark.

Pope slams Baz onto the concrete once more before hauling himself off him. He reaches for your hand and drags you back to his car. You can get your stuff later, he grumbles. Smurf's eyes narrow as she watches you. It looks like you have your claws in her eldest boy deeper than she thought.

Of course, Smurf doesn't do anything right away. But she'll have to get Andrew away from you. She thought you simply calmed him down. But if he listens to you over her that's not good.

You can sense that something has shifted with Smurf. But you're not dumb enough to delve into that. No you play dumb. Act like nothing has happened.

"When's you're birthday, Smurf?" you ask her one evening as you help her with dinner. "I doubt your boys ever spoil you. And you do so much for them. They should bring you out for dinner."

Smurf smiles, "That's sweet but I like cooking for them."

You sigh as you watch J, Deran and Craig outside.

"I hope I'm half the mother you are. I mean, Pope talks about you all the time. How you worked so hard for him and Julia as a single mother. And in the seventies, that can't have been easy," you coo.

Smurf freezes for a millisecond, too quick to even notice. Unless you're watching...and you are.

"Does Pope talk about his sister?" she asks tightly.

You nod your head as you throw cherry tomatoes in the salad.

"Oh yes, all the time. Such a beautiful name. Maybe if I'm ever blessed with a girl I'll call her Julia. Maybe Julia Janine...JJ! So sweet," you say before carrying the salad out to the table.

Smurf stabs her knife into the cutting board. Oh she fucking hates you.

In the months that follow, you can feel the tension rising in the house. Not just between you and Smurf. But something has happened between her and Baz. You're not sure what and you're not stupid enough to ask.

One evening you're sitting by the pool on Pope's lap. You're nursing a Coke after dinner wondering when you can go home.

"Baby, do you want a real drink?" Smurf asks you as she sips on her vodka cranberry. It's rare she doesn't have one in her hand.

You flush at the question ducking your head before shaking it quickly. Pope is grinning ear from ear.

"Smurf, I can't," you say as Pope presses a thick hand over your stomach.

A few weeks ago, you had woken up feeling...well...like shit. You pulled up your calendar and realised that you were late. Your period was due almost a fortnight ago. But yours was nowhere to be seen. You immediately ran (literally) to the store. You shoulda bought pregnancy tests but you didn't wanna jinx it.

When Pope found you almost an hour later crying tears of joy as you looked at the two little lines on the stick, he couldn't stop himself from crying. You both had your own worries and didn't want to share until you were over the first trimester. But now, at almost fourteen weeks pregnant you decided to share with the rest of the Cody family.

You could see Smurf's face immediately brighten. Yea, she didn't like how you had gotten your claws into her baby boy. But a baby? Well, Smurf loved babies. So she rushed over to kiss both you and Pope.

"You should move back in here, baby," she cooed at Pope.

He shook his head, "Not with the parties, Smurf. A baby needs sleep and not to get into Craig's coke stash."

Craig frowned, but he couldn't argue.

The only person who wasn't happy was Baz. Which you expected. He was rarely at the house these days. And when he was it usually ended in a fight between him and Smurf. J had become a little lap dog for Baz. And you hated that. But it wasn't your place to get involved.

Since announcing your pregnancy, things between you and Smurf thawed. She brought you shopping for baby stuff. Even though you didn't want to be in her debt. But sometimes you liked to be mothered...it had been so long. So you let her brush your hair when you were too tired and make you herbal tea and even slept over when Pope was away on jobs.

You sit, cradling your now swollen stomach, as Smurf tells you about Julia. How she couldn't take care of her when she was pregnant with J. Everyone who talks about Julia tells you a different story. Pope talks about her like she hung the moon, J speaks about a sad, ghost of a woman outcast from her family and Smurf? Well, Smurf talks about a problem child. A bad apple intent on spoiling the bunch.

You're not sure if it's not just the tree that is poison.

But you let Smurf dote on you because you're not stupid. You want to keep her on side. Not like Baz...Baz has seemingly been outcast from the family. Lena is always with Smurf and her father is spending less and less time here.

Pope tells you one night in bed as he strokes your growing belly that he has a mistress in Mexico. That he plans on taking Lena and going to start a new life down there.

"With whose money?" you ask, your eyes flicking up to Pope.

Has Baz been stealing from Smurf? You don't doubt that he has enough money of his own. But you always know that Smurf has a majority of the funds.

They have enough to live very comfortably on. But nothing too crazy. But you don't argue about that.

One night, Pope is out with Craig and Deran. It's not like him, but you tell him to spend more time with his brothers. It's okay. You know he doesn't like parties or loud spaces. But sometimes they just drink in the back of Deran's bar. And you want him to have that connection again. Especially after losing Baz.

Even though you don't know good of a friend and brother Baz was to him. Pope tells you about Baz and Julia's relationship. How he could be J's father. How he fell for Cath when they were teenagers but Baz took her too. How he didn't want to lose anything else to Baz.

"You won't lose me or the baby to him. I promise," you whisper.

So when you hear the door to the house open you presume it's Pope. You hum, shifting in your bed to give him room to join you. But Pope's footsteps are almost silent and these? Well, these are not. You try not to move, hoping whoever it is will just steal some shit and go. They won't try the bedrooms.

But you recognise those footsteps as they come closer and closer. You know it's Baz. And he's not here for petty theft. You lean across the bed to Pope's side and pull open the drawer of his bedside locker. You're trying not to make noise as you fumble in the dark for what you're looking for.

But it doesn't matter because Barry Blackwell has been in Pope's shitty little beachfront condo before. He knows where the bedroom is and he knows where he'll find Pope's girl. He's known that Pope killed Cath. Even though he knows that Smurf put him up to it, it was Pope who did it. And now he can do the same to Pope.

An eye for an eye.

The baby is just the cherry on top of the cake. Baz should care that by killing you, he'll also be ending the life of his brother's unborn child. But he doesn't really care. He slams the door open making you jump.

"Pope isn't here," you tell him, feigning ignorance.

You blink, pretending that you've just woken up.

"That's okay. He doesn't need to be," Baz says as he stands in the door frame. "You know, Lena loves you. She loves when you take her to the beach and that you've taught her how to swim. Craig's got her her own surfboard now."

You smile and nod, sitting up in the bed. You stroke your baby bump, showing it off to Baz as if to remind him that you're just a woman. A pregnant woman. A soon-to-be mother.

"So it's really going to hurt her feelings when she finds out her uncle murdered you," he tuts.

You freeze at this. He's going to frame Pope?

Of course, he is. Pope already has a violent record. The police won't even question it when Baz calls it in. Because he will. He's an upstanding citizen. And when Lena's nanny who got involved with his mentally unwell brother doesn't show up for work, he'll get worried. He'll call the cops. He might even cry.

Smurf'll be pissed but hell, he might kill her too while he's at it. Pope went on a spree. How fun!

"Don't do this," you beg through tears.

Baz shrugs as he takes a step forward. You try to stay brave, strong. But fuck you're scared. But you look at the man who has only ever made your life worse since he came into it in the eyes as you pull Pope's gun from under the covers. You point it straight at his face.

He gives you that shit eating grin. That pretty boy bullshit smile. He thinks he can get away with this. But he can't. He won't.

And you pull the trigger.

You don't expect it to be so loud. Your neighbours definitely heard. You don't expect the blood spray either. It's messy. But you had no choice. You couldn't fight him hand to hand.

You get out of bed, wiping down the gun with your nightie and immediately getting in the shower. You wash off all evidence of Baz from you and change into Pope's t-shirt and a pair of shorts. You drive to the bar you know the Cody brothers are at. You smile at the patrons and pat your stomach.

But when Pope sees you, he knows something is wrong. He soothes you, tells you that you did everything right. Deran and Craig stand behind him as they look at their older brother's now dead body. You know they all loved him. But he was a monster.

"I took Lena's father away," you whisper. "But he was gonna kill me. He was gonna kill us."

Pope presses a hand to your stomach.

"Take her somewhere," he tells Deran. "We need to clean this up."

Deran brings you to his place, to his boyfriend (although you have to pretend he's just a friend), Adrian. He tells him that someone tried to break in and you're freaked out.

"Why not bring her to Smurf?" Adrian asks as you sit looking at the blank wall.

Deran just shakes his head before leaving.

You don't know when Pope comes to get you. But you go home with him. He gets you into the bath, soothing out your muscles.

"I've never done that before," you finally confess.

"And you won't have to do it again, baby," he promises as he massages your neck.

"We're gonna go. We're gonna leave Oceanside. Craig went to Baz's place and found where he's stashed Smurf's money. We're gonna take our share and go. With Lena," he promises.

"She won't let us," you respond.

Pope presses kisses into your hair.

"She doesn't have a choice," he responds gently.

Smurf believes Pope when he tells her that Baz has run off to Mexico.

"And left Lena?" she tuts and shakes her head. "Typical."

She knew it was his plan so why would she look into it any further? What she doesn't expect however, is less than a month later is to wake up and find Lena's bedroom empty.

She rushes to call you. But the phoneline is disconnected. Pope's is too. She calls Deran and Craig who shrug. They don't know where you've gone.

And while they know that you were leaving. Helped you get everything in order, you never told them where you were going.

"Where are we going, Uncle Pope?" Lena asks from the backseat of a car you jacked.

"Somewhere safe," is all he responds, as he rests his hand on your blossoming stomach.

a/n: thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback appreciated. requests open

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His dad, David Edwards, partner lawyer of a firm, was unremarkable as a parent. Too busy on the phone to care for the children and when he wasn't distracted he only focused on the older boys to please his wife. It was because of her that Mars would never had a strong relationship with his dad. Not that he wanted one anyways.

Tatiana Edwards, was the matriarch of the house. Whatever she said goes and everyone did as she told. Whenever David was alone with Mars she was quick to interrupt. She would make him go and play with the other children. Mars really hated being at his dad's house.

So the day you drop him off, he plans to run away. He sits in his barren room all day pretending to read or do work packets to be left alone. While at dinner, he picks at his plate. The family talk to each other about their plans for the week as if Mars wasn't there. He wishes you'd given him a phone. Not to call you for anything but to entertain himself during these dull moments.

"I can't make the baseball game, son, I have to go to Philly for a few days." David says not looking up from his phone. Sending lewd messages to whatever secretary will give a damn probably. Mars has seen his emails.

"There's another on Saturday." Tatiana shoots him a death glare. "Daddy will be there for you, sweetie."

"What are you looking at?" Corey spat towards Mars.

The boy doesn't respond, knowing it wouldn't matter what he said; Everyone would get upset. "I'm not feeling well, may I be excused?" Mars mutters.

Tatiana looks him up and down, "Sure."

After he leaves the dinner table, he puts his plan to escape into play. He gets ready for bed but puts on his days clothes before getting under the blankets. He waits for his dad to come "check on him," turn off the light, and close the door to say goodnight.

After the light is out and the door is closed, Mars jumps into action. He locks the door and grabs his backpack. He puts some stuffed animals under a blanket to pass off as himself. It was time to put his wits to the test now, as he blocks the door with a cinder block. A 'dare' Corey made him bring it into the house. They wouldn't be able to see his bed from the door with the cinder block skewing the view.

From his window, he climbs out onto the porch roof. Carefully, he walks across to the garden trellis attached to the porch. He climbs down and lands in the garden. He runs along the front lawn and heads to a place he knew he could get to.

-

"Hey, good morning, you're probably busy getting ready for the day right now but I just wanted to check on you. I miss you and Mars. I feel like my day doesn't really start until I hear from either of you. I hope everything is going okay. Call me when you can. Bye." Robby ends the voicemail before heading back inside the ED.

It's been a few months since you've officially started dating Robby. He didn't think that you going away for a week would affect him so deeply. He used to be grateful when you were out of town but now he didn't know what to do with himself.

He'd come over, you'd make dinner together, Mars would show him a science project he was working on. You'd talk late into the night in bed. He missed your voice, your smile, your skin, your touch, your eyes, your lips—

"Robby, MVA incoming. Where are you right now? La La Land?!" Dana shakes her head.

He was distracted all day, thinking about you. Waiting for you to call him back. A little bit of him hoped that Mars would come barrelling through the bay doors to tell him something.

After a few trauma and a dozen patients discharged, he sits at the nurse's station to chart before picking up some more patients. As he walks down the hall when he's done, he swears he sees a boy who looks like Mars walking around. It had only been a couple days since he's seen the boy, delirium seems a little excessive. He shrugs it off and enters a room to see a patient.

As he finishes, he sees the boy walk past the window. This time he was sure the boy was real. "That boy… I saw him in the lobby earlier rooting around in the vending machine for a snack," The patient says, "I gave him a dollar fifty for a bag of chips." Robby furrows his brows and excuses himself. He then goes into the hall looking for the boy.

"What's the matter?" Dana notices his concerned face.

"I could have sworn, I saw Mars down here." He looks around troubled, "But he should be with his dad right now."

"Maybe he stopped by for a visit?" Dana suggests.

Robby doesn't feel confident that it was Mars or not. And if it was, his father would go out of his way to visit your workplace for Mars. Another patient is wheeled through the ambulance bay door making him concentrate back on work.

They are put in trauma one and Garcia comes down for an assist. When she enters, she jokes, "When did the hospital start hiring toddlers for food service?"

Everyone looks between each other confused then back at her. They wait for her to elaborate on the punchline, "I just saw a kid with a bunch of snacks in his hands heading up the elevator."

Robby's brow furrow, "What did he look like?"

Garcia gives the description and he swears under his breath. The boy really was Mars. His mind goes a mile a minute as he thinks about where Mars could go in the hospital. After the patient is stabilized he asks Garcia, "Did you see what button he may have reached when you got off?"

"I think he asked for the sixth floor." She recalls

Sixth floor was the Pediatric floor. Robby enters the elevator with a worried sigh. He pulls out his phone and calls you. After a few rings, you answer, "Hey, I was going to call you back. I miss you too."

"Hey, I don't want to scare you—"

"Oh god."

"I think Mars is in the hospital right now."

"What?! As a patient?!"

"No, no, just here wandering around." He explains, "I thought he was with his dad."

"He is supposed to be. Are you sure it was him?" You worry, "I have to call David. I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm looking for him right now. I'll call you back when I find him." He assures, "Hold off on calling in case I'm just being a lonely sociopath."

He hangs up as he arrives to the Pediatric ward. He searches the hall and stops at the nurse's station, "Have you seen a little boy here? About yay high, wearing a shirt with an astronaut on it."

"Oh, there's a boy in the waiting room matching that description. He said he was waiting for his mom." A nurse says.

He nods and thanks them before heading to the waiting room. There by the fish tank, the boy sits staring at the fish swim around inside. Robby comes up beside him and confirms it was Mars. He sits down beside him. The boy looks tired as he watches the fish. He smelled a little dingy like he hadn't showered in a few days. "The Carrassius auratus commonly known as the goldfish. It's actually an invasive species in America due to their opportunistic feeding tendencies. When they are released from captivity they have the ability to destroy entire ecosystems." He says.

"Mars, what are you doing here? How did you get here?" Robby asks the boy softly.

"I ran away." He confesses, tears welling up in his eyes, "I hate my dad's house."

"When did you get here?"

"Late Monday night. Tuesday morning when it was still dark out."

It was Wednesday now. Robby tries to hide his disbelief. He's been missing a day and a half and his dad hasn't come looking for him. "Where have you been sleeping?"

"The abandoned wing of the hospital." He purses his lips.

Robby sighs, "C'mon let's get your stuff."

"No!" The boy flinches, "No! Don't take me back! You can't make me!"

"Mars, please. I won't make you go back. I just want to see where you're staying and call you mom to let her know you're safe." He pulls the boy into his lap and dials your number.

"Is it him?" You picked up quickly.

"Hi, Mommy." Mars murmurs

"Mars," You whisper in relief, "Why did you run away?"

"They don't care about me. I was going to wait in the hospital until you came back."

"What were you going to eat?! Or where you sleeping?! Oh my god…" You take a breath, "I am going to call your father and tell him what has happened before he calls the cops. When did you run away?"

"Monday night?"

"Monday?! You've been missing for almost 2 days?!" You shout, "You are in so much trouble. Your dad is in bigger trouble. I can't believe you, Mars."

"Please don't make me go back." He begs.

"Then who will watch you, Mars?! You can not keep making grown up decisions without a grown up!" You raise your voice then calm down again, "I am going to call your dad and we will discuss what to do."

"Wait, hang on, I know it's not my place but… if it's bad enough for him to want to run, maybe I could watch him until you get back." Robby proposed.

You pause for a moment, "Are you being serious?"

"Yes, he can stay with me. He can sleep in my bed. I can take the couch. All until you get back." He offers again.

"Yeah! I could stay with Robby! Please!" Mars smiles. The first time since being found.

"I don't know… I've got to call his dad." You sigh, "Can you keep him until I get back to you?"

"Of course. Call me back as soon as you can." He hangs up. He gets up while carrying Mars and goes to the abandoned wing for his stuff.

While in the room he sees all the food wrappers of what he had taken. There were some gowns on the bed for blankets. Mars grabs his backpack and starts to clean up. Robby helps him by collecting the gowns and arranging the room as if it was untouched.

When they arrive in the ED, Robby puts Mars in a bed for him to rest. "So it was Mars." Dana watches him as he does a check up on the boy.

"Yeah, he ran away from his dad's. He was living in the hospital the last few days." Robby sighs, "Go ahead and rest here Mars, I'll come back to check on you okay?" The boy nods before laying his head on his pillow.

They walk out the room. "I offered to let him stay with me for the week."

"Really?" Dana gapes.

"Why not? He looked miserable when I found him. He would rather be eating bags of chips and hospital scraps than be at his dad's. That says something, right?"

"I guess," She shakes her head, "What did the missus say about it?"

"She'll let me know." He checks his phone for any new massages, "I'm going to catch up on patients to keep my mind off things. Could you check on Mars? He's a little dehydrated."

"You want an IV?"

"Nah it's not severe, maybe a Gatorade? Or some milk?"

"You got it."

"Thanks"

-

It's late into his shift when you call. Robby was getting nervous. When he answers, he hears the quiver in your voice like you had been crying, "Hey."

"Hey, is everything okay?" He asks.

"Um, for now. The fucking prick went to Philly, neglecting to tell me he was leaving too." You sniffle, "His wife, that bitch, thought Mars was sick but didn't check on him for a day and a half. Like who does that?!" You sob, "They disgust me. You know, it's always been like this. Mars suffers because what they really want to do is take it out on me."

"It's okay. It's okay." He hushes you, "We can figure it out. Mars can stay at mine until you get back."

"Could you? I told David a friend could look after Mars. I do not want him alone with that woman and her hell spawn."

"Of course, I am almost off. It'll be fine." He smiles, "I'm in your corner, Honey. Take a breath for me."

Silence.

"I want to hear you," He says. On the other end you audibly inhale through your nose and out through your mouth. You do it a few times.

"I should just come home." You say defeated.

"Hey, the crisis is averted. Mars is in trusted hands again. You'll just be upset all over again," He says, "It's just a few more days, we'll be okay."

"Okay… okay. I trust you. I am trusting you." You say, "Thank you, Robby."

"You're very welcome. I'll see you soon." He hangs up.

He heads back inside to check on Mars. Dana sits by his bed as Mars lays asleep, "He went to sleep after I have him a cup of milk. He was mumbling about flight paths and orbit until he closed his eyes."

"He's going to come home with me." He says, "Spend the weekend together until his mom comes back."

"He'll be happy about that. How is she doing?"

"Upset. Rightfully so, I can't imagine neglecting a child the way that family has. Pretending he doesn't exist. It's horrible," He touches Mars' forehead, "To look at him and not see him as an innocent child, his son. Never in my wildest dreams could I do that."

Dana looks at Robby's face. He looks fondly at the sleeping child. A smile grows on her face, "You should take him home soon."

"As soon as Shen comes in." He rubs the boy's head and leaves the room to finish his shift.

When Shen arrives, Robby carries Mars as he hands over his patients. The boy lays on his shoulder, eyes closed and unbothered by the movement and chatter. "Cute kid," Shen points.

"Thanks. That is everything. We are out of here." Robby says, "You all have a good night."

Robby thanks his lucky stars he drove his car today. They arrive at his house. It was a small apartment; one bedroom, one and a half bath. Even with his salary, he felt no need to upgrade. He lays the boy on the couch and nudges him awake.

"Robby?" Mars rubs his eyes, "Where am I?"

"My house." He smiles, "You always seem to get your way buddy."

He hugs Robby, "Thank you."

"No, thank you! You got me out of work on time." Robby pats the boy on the back, "You must be hungry. What do you think we should have for dinner?"

"I don't know. What do you have?"

What did Robby have? He was good a cooking but he never had ingredients at home. Last time he made a meal it was at your place. The two of you went grocery shopping together. He looks through his cabinets with a sigh, "I don't know."

"Let me see." Mars gets off the couch and inspects the food in the pantry and the fridge, "Here, we could make spam fried rice. You have all the ingredients." Mars holds the can of spam.

"Do you know how to cook?" Robby raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not allowed to operate anything in the kitchen other than the microwave without adult supervision." He recites.

"You're in luck, I am an adult who supervises for a living." Robby brings over a dining chair for the boy to use as a stool.

Mars instructs him on what to do. The rice cooks and he dices the spam and puts it in the soy sauce marinade. When it's all ready he tosses it in a pan with some frozen veggie mix to fry. When it's all finished he serves the food at the table.

"So, why don't you like your dad's?" Robby asks.

"Because his family sucks," He says plainly, "His wife makes me call her Mrs. Edwards as some weird power trip. My dad doesn't know anything about me. I don't think he cares to. And their kids hate me."

Robby purses his lips disappointedly, "But your mom takes you there…"

"She has to. When I was little there was a huge custody battle. They spent a lot of money on lawyers to get their way," He explains, "I was going to have to live them full time but my dad changed his mind. Said a month in the summer would suffice. I think he still cares about her. Feels bad after his wife's cruelty."

"Still seems like kind of a dick." Robby mumbles.

"Mom says that too," Mars giggles.

They laugh together. "Surely, they know how smart you are."

"They know…ish."

"Ish?"

"I only read books in my grade level around them. And I don't talk much." He scoops his food, "If they found out, they'd probably try to ship me away to MIT or something. They would just try to turn a profit from me."

"But your mom still treats you like a kid." Robby nods.

"Exactly. Even if I'm some prodigy my mom treats me like a kid. We go to Kennywood in the summer, she takes me trick or treating and helps me make a costume, she builds snowmen with me in the snow. I like all that stuff. Just because I'm smart doesn't mean I'm not a kid." Mars smiles.

After dinner, Robby calls you to talk to Mars, "You'll be respectful in his house. Do as your told."

"Yes mom." Mars says.

"Good, I love you and I miss. Please don't give me a scare like that again." You blow kisses to the your phone. "Now put Robby on the phone." Mars hands the phone to Robby and goes to the living room to sit.

"Hi, you." Robby puts the phone to his ear.

"Hi. I can't thank you enough for doing this. I've been on and off the phone with David all day. I've got a bit of a headache and Gloria is trying to force me to attend a mixer tonight.

"Then don't go." He chuckles, "Say, Mars isn't feeling well."

"You're being a bad influence," You giggle, "I just want to stay on the phone with you instead."

You sigh dreamily and Robby's heart squeezes at the sound. He's never yearned for someone before. He smiles, "I miss you too."

"Oh, I know you do, from the endless voicemails you send throughout the day."

"Don't make me sound so desperate." He cringes.

"That's because you are." You laugh, "Should I take an earlier flight to make you feel better."

"Maybe?"

"I'll head straight to your house from the airport too."

"I'm sold," He smiles, "Go and have fun. Mars and I can manage without you for a few days. Actually Mars is…" He checks in the living room to see him reading one of his medical textbooks. He sits in Robby's cozy reading recliner with the book in his lap. He lays his head on the arm rest and fights his eyelids from closing too long, "He's doing fine."

"Alright, I'll talk to you later. I love you…" You trail off. A smile grows on his face as you start to sputter, " I didn't mean to— I mean I did but I didn't want to— It's just a little soon to—"

"I know what you meant. I feel the same." He assures, "See you when you get back."

He hangs up the phone and walks over to Mars. He takes the book from his lap and picks him up. He carries him to bed. He looks so small in Robby's big bed as he tucked him in.

Robby stands at the door as Mars gets more comfortable in the bed. He smiles to himself before closing the door. He lays on the couch as he replays your words in his mind. He would have said it too, but you were so flustered he didn't want to overwhelm you. He opens his phone and calls you back. It's goes to voicemail.

"Good evening, I know we just got off the phone. I put Mars to bed and I am laying here thinking about what you said. I just want to say, I love you too. I didn't want to freak you out any more but I didn't want you to think what you said was wrong and—"

"Say it again." You pick up the phone, "I want to hear you say it."

"I love you too." He bites back a smile.

"You're not just saying it because I said it first right?"

"No. It's something I felt for some time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"And you're not going to get sick of me?"

"Not for a while, no."

"Okay, define a while because in my mind a few months is a while."

"Oh longer than that," He chuckles.

"Then when? It's a very valid concern."

"With how this conversation is going it may be shorter."

"Robby!"

You continue talking on the phone through the night until you both asleep.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆

"Ooo, let me have some." He reaches over the wall.

"Hey! Get your own." You pull away. He whines as he zooms away. Vivian then stops in front of you with a big puppy dog pout on her face, "No, Viv."

Her face turns into a scowl and she scoots along. You shake your head, "One thing you can be grateful for is that they don't mooch off of you."

Robby shrugs, "I wouldn't mind. They're just kids after all."

"Big kids." You correct, "If they took a drink each, there would be nothing left." You lift the cup, "Come to think of it, you've taken a sip too."

"A tax." He chuckles, "I bought it."

"You pay the tax when you buy it!"

"Exactly." He grabs your waist, "Prices are outrageous nowadays. I think I deserve to be compensated." He leans down for a kiss.

"Robby?"

He stops short when he recognizes a voice coming from behind you. He pulls away and sees Jake standing a few feet in front of him. He hasn't seen him in quite some time. Not that he had been actively avoiding the boy. It was just that he has been a little preoccupied with your family to be around.

"Jake, hey, how's it going, man?" He walks over to the boy and gives him a hug.

"Good I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Good… Good. Uh this is (Y/N)." He puts his hand on the small of your back to bring you forward. "This is Jake uh friend of mine. I used to date his mom."

"Oh, hi, nice to meet you." You take his hand and give it a shake.

"Nice to meet you too." He looks between the two of you knowingly. "I'm just here with some friends. What are you guys—"

"Mom! Mom! Mom!" Vivian walks over with her cup of hot chocolate. "Eli actually did something nice for once and got me hot chocolate."

"I'm nice! I'm nice all the time." Eli takes offense. He's holding his own cup of hot chocolate. Their smiles fade when they see Jake. There is an awkward air between you all. Jake looks at Eli then at Robby. His face falls into a subtle frown.

"These are my kids, Elijah and Vivian." You cut in, "We were just enjoying the rink before they close. Kids, let's go find a seat to drink. You two can catch up."

They nod and follow you somewhere. You look back Robby and he gives you an assuring nod. He turns his attention back to Jake, "How have you been?"

"How have I been?! You, like, fell off the face of the Earth, Robby." Jake's demeanor changes, "We don't hang out anymore. I thought you were avoiding me."

"I've just been…" Robby looks past him to you and your family chatting and drinking, "Busy. I'm sorry I haven't reached out but it's not like you were being forthcoming either. I gave you space because I thought that's what you wanted."

"I needed time, but you've stopped trying. Is it because of them? A new family? That kid, Elijah? Is he supposed to be my replacement?"

"Whoa, Jake, you are not replaceable," Robby looks at him taken aback, "And Elijah is not a substitute. You seem upset right now. Why don't we plan a day to talk? Enjoy your time with your friends, okay?"

Robby walks past him and heads to your table. He sits down beside you with a sigh. "Everything okay?" You ask.

"Uh yeah, we were just doing a little catching up." Robby looks over his shoulder to see Jake has vanished into the crowd.

"Was he looking at me weird?" Eli asks, "I feel like he was looking at me weird."

"Yeah because of your enormous head." Viv laughs, "No seriously, it's hard not to stare at."

"Shuddup." He palms her face with his hand.

"Mom!" Viv whines.

"Enough, you two please." You snap. You look over at Robby to see his gaze is distant. You touch his shoulder and rub it gently. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm good." He kisses your cheek.

-

Later, at home, you lay in bed with Robby, "So you are friends with a teenager…"

"Don't make it sound so gross." Robby cringes, " I dated his mom for a couple years and I became close with him. It would have been weird had I just pretended he never existed. He's a good kid."

"Okay, so, if we break up you'll still come around for Elijah and Viv?" You smirk, "It'll be hard to resist if that happened."

"Well, I hope you're not thinking about us breaking up." He kisses you intensely, "But just so you'd know, I'd keep coming around but not just for the kids."

"You are so— mmph!" He kisses you again. You moan into his mouth as he moves on top of you.

The next morning as Robby gets ready for work, Eli is in the kitchen cooking breakfast. When he comes downstairs, he greets the boy, "Good morning."

"Good morning," He says, "So that kid, Jake, how do you know him?"

"I, um, I dated his mom for a bit and we've just stayed close. It was amicable." Robby explains, "We haven't spoken directly in quite some time. He was busy with school and stuff…" Then in the summer I met your mother. He rubs his lips together, "He's getting older, preparing for college. He reminds me a bit of you."

"How so?"

"You are wealthy with friends. There isn't anyone you couldn't make a friend out of. But you've both got this hardness. The idea you must be tough and can't let your emotions get away from you." He smiles, "You know what, the two of you should properly meet. Maybe over a game of pick-up."

"Sure," Eli shrugs, "I've got some free time."

"Great. I'll set it up." He slings his backpack over his shoulder, "I'll see you tonight for your game."

"See you." He waves.

At work, Robby looks between the status board and his phone as he tries to construct a text message to Jake. Dana notices the frustration written on his face and stands beside him, "Trouble in paradise?"

"Uh, no. I saw Jake yesterday and he wanted to hang out." He explains, "I was hoping to schedule a game of pick-up basketball with him and Eli."

"That might be a good idea." Dana raises an eyebrow, "Would they like that?"

"Eli said it was fine."

"And Jake?"

"I am trying to find out right now." He purses his lips into a smile.

"Maybe you should just meet Jake alone first. I know you both have been having a hard time getting together since Pittfest."

"I'll figure something out." He shakes his head and sighs. He decides to just send a simple text to Jake about meeting up sometime soon.

Later in the day he gets a reply: "Sure, how about tonight? We could go get burgers at our favorite spot."

Robby sighs and responds, "I can't make it tonight."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

Robby remembers Vivian has her short program that day, "I can do tomorrow night."

"I can't. Dinner with my mom."

Robby rubs his forehead. It wasn't like he had forgotten about Jake but being pushed to the wayside has made him move on. Now that he was so involved with your kids and their activities, he didn't know how to fit Jake back in.

"How about next week? I am free for some pick-up basketball."

"Sure, Saturday okay?"

"Perfect."

After Eli's game, you cook dinner for the family. Robby helps you in the kitchen. "Eli told me about you setting up a play date for him and Jake."

"Is that his words or yours?" He chuckles.

"Mine. I just wanted to say, I think it's a good idea. You should invite him over for lunch or dinner or whatever." You wave your hands around indifferent to your own suggestion.

"You'd be okay with that?"

"Why not? He's a part of your life, no? I want your bits as much as you take mine."

"My bits?" He tilts his head.

"Sure, my life, my kids, my work are my bits. your life, your… kid, and your work are your bits. Our burdens, our grief, our joy. We share them all." You explain, "You can share with me as much as I share with you."

He walks over and kisses your cheek from behind. "I'll invite him after basketball. See what he says."

"Okay." You turn and kiss his lips, "Can you tell the kids, dinner is almost ready, please?"

"Yes ma'am." He goes to the stairs to call for them.

-

The day for basketball comes, and Jake is ecstatic. He heads into the 'Y' gym where he sees Robby. He throws his hand up to wave but his smile fades when he sees Eli on the bleachers lacing up his shoes. Robby walks over and smiles, "Hey, good to see you."

"Yeah, you too." He says flatly, "I thought it was just going to be you and me?"

"Sorry, I forgot to text you about it but, I think it's a good idea for you two to get to know each other." Robby says, "Is that okay?"

"I guess…" Jake mutters.

Robby has played one v. one against both boys and knows they are both really good at basketball. There are some other players entering the court and they split off into teams. Eli was picked by the others and Robby was with Jake on the other team.

As they play, Eli's team is dominating the court. Eli had an incredible jump shot. Especially from the three-point line. Robby's team tries to put up a good defense and receive possession of the ball as offense tries to pass to Eli.

Jake gets the ball and runs down the court and Eli is close behind him. He hunches over dribbling and tries to pass the ball. Eli is behind him blocking his view. It was clear he was getting frustrated with Eli not letting up. He pivots and tries to cross the other way. Eli reaches for the ball and Jake throws back his elbow. He feels it make contact with his nose.

Eli falls to the floor and everyone winces and cringes. The game comes to a halt as they crowd around the boy on the floor. "Make some room guys, back up." Robby kneels down as Eli sits up holding his nose, "Let me see."

It was clear, blood was spilling from his nose. It was leaking between the cracks of his fingers. Eli pulls his hand away and from his nose to his chin there was blood. Robby presses up to the bridge of his nose but Eli only winces at the top. "We should go. It might be a minor fracture."

"It's fine, Robby. It's not broken, I know." Eli waves him away, "I've had worse. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom, and get an ice pack. You guys keep playing."

He stands up and grabs his towel to hold to his nose as he walks out of the gym. Robby looks to Jake, who looks like a dog with his tail between his legs. "I didn't know he was right there."

"It's fine. You didn't mean to." He pulls Jake into a side hug to comfort him.

When Eli returns, his towel is covered in blood. He hangs his head and pinches his nostrils with the cloth. While he sits, Robby can't help but look over to check on the kid. Eli removes the towel and his nose is no longer bleeding. He places the ice pack gently on his nose and winces, much to Robby's displeasure.

He steps out of the game and sits next to him. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"I'm fine Robby. Just go play." Eli tries to push him back on to the court.

"Your mom would kill me if she knew I just kept playing while you were hurt." Robby grabs the ice pack from him, "It's starting to swell a bit. And I'm seeing some bruising start to form."

"Damn, I was hoping to look my best for the scouts next week." Eli says sarcastically.

"Hey, that's right! Are you excited?" Robby shoulder nudges him.

"A little… but I don't know if I want to go to Michigan."

"Oh? Why not? Don't say it's because of your dad." Robby rolls his eyes, "Look, wherever you go, it doesn't matter. It is only the launchpad to your career. It's as long you have a long career here with the Penguins."

They laugh together. Jake watches from the court with a frown cemented on his face. This was supposed to be his time with Robby. Now this random kid comes along and they are laughing together. He lost his girlfriend. Couldn't Robby empathize with that and be understanding? Why did he have to abandon him? The game ends and Jake grabs his things, "Hey I gotta go. Thanks for playing."

"Hang on, Jake." Robby stands up, "We were going to continue shooting hoops back at the house. Why don't you come over for supper?"

"Are you being serious right now?! I didn't want him to be here and now you're inviting me to his house?" He stomps off. Robby and Eli follow him through the gym and out into the parking lot.

"Hey, man, what's your issue with me?" Eli catches up with him, "I haven't done anything to you and you've been looking at me sideways since we met."

"Shut up and leave me alone, man." Jake mutters.

"Look, dude, I've got no problem with you." Eli grabs his shoulder to make him stop, "You're upset about something so just air it out."

"My problem isn't with you, dude." Jake slaps his hand off his shoulder.

"Okay then why don't you just talk to Robby. He's clearly willing to listen."

"Yeah I bet he is. I bet he listens to all your problems and gives you all the fatherly advise you need. How long did he wait huh? A week, a month? Before he started infiltrating your life? Getting close with your mom?"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Eli looks taken aback, "Look man, I don't know what your problem is but it's clear that daddy didn't stick around long enough to help you figure it out."

That sets Jake off. He grabs Eli by the shirt and shoves him to the ground. Eli lands on his rear and gets back up tackling Jake to the floor. The boys grapple each other exchanging blows. Robby finally reaches them and pulls them apart. Eli spits blood on the ground as he stands up. "Eli, go wait by the car."

"He's the one who—"

"Wait by the car, please!" Robby speaks sternly. The boy glares at Jake before trudging off to the car to wait.

"What the hell, Jake? Why can't you just talk to me? Attacking him, seriously?" Robby shakes his head.

"I- I'm sorry. I just saw you with him and it made me mad." Jake's lip quivers.

"You withdrew from me! I was not going to force you to talk to me. You needed time and space." Robby sighs, "And to ask those questions about me to him. What was that for? Yes the timing was… wrong but to make it seem like I do it often is just cruel. He lost his father just under a year ago. It's still fresh in his mind. I'm sorry I invited him to basketball. I thought the two of you could be friends. I didn't think you'd attack him!"

"I'm sorry," Jake mumbles.

"It's not me who you should be apologizing to. Look, Jake, I had to come to terms with this when I was a student doctor. The world is gonna keep spinning. It sucks but it will just keep going. So you either change with it or get stuck in your ways." Robby grabs his shoulder, "I love you, kid. That's not gonna change. But now I have room in my heart for that kid over there. And his sister and his mother."

Jake sniffles and nods, "I'm sorry."

"Go and apologize to Eli. I think we should all go our separate ways after this." He leads him over to Eli.

Eli's nose is bleeding again and the older bruise has now connected to his outer eye. He doesn't look happy to see Jake approaching him again.

"Eli, Jake has something to say to you." Robby puts him in front of Eli.

"I'm sorry for attacking you. I was upset. I shouldn't have done that." Jake says.

"It's no big deal." Eli bites his tongue from saying anything else.

"I'm sorry too. I should have planned this better." Robby speaks, "Maybe next time we can be a little more cordial with each other." He stares at Jake. Neither boy says a word though. Robby takes it as a moment of understanding.

They go their separate ways and head to their respective homes. Eli stares ahead before speaking, "What did he mean?"

"About what?" Robby asks.

"You 'infiltrating' my family." Eli looks at him.

"Well, Jake's dad passed away before his mom and I got together. And it was rather soon after." Robby waves his hand, "But we were long time friends before that. I was like a rebound for her."

"But you dated for years…"

"Yeah, one thing led to another and we were just always close." Robby explains. Eli looks at him suspiciously before turning to his window and watching the trees go by. They arrive home just as you start cooking.

"Hey, is Jake coming— What the hell happened?!" You rush over to inspect Eli's face.

"They fought with each other." Robby sighs, "I thought they could be friends but Jake was feeling—"

"Like a bitch." Eli interjects

"Bitter about not hanging out with me by himself. First they were roughhousing during the game then in the parking lot things just spiraled." He inspects the boy's face, "It's all surface level, nothing is broken. He just needs some ice."

"Eli you know better."

"He hit me first. In hockey—"

"It wasn't hockey! You should have just let it go." You glare, "I know you, and you probably aggravated him." You dig in your freezer and pull out a bag of peas, "Let's go clean you up."

He takes it and runs upstairs, "This is bullshit."

"I'll be right back," You follow him upstairs to the bathroom. You pull out your first aid supplies and start to clean the blood off his face. "What really happened?"

"We were playing basketball and first Jake elbowed me in the face. He started to get jealous when Robby was checking on me and left right away. I tried to smooth things over y'know let him know there was no beef. But then he started to angrier? I don't know— ow!— he was like 'how long did he wait… infiltrating my life.' It sounded like he was more mad at Robby than me." He winces as he explains. "Do you ever think it's weird how soon you moved on from dad?"

You pause for a moment and set down the cotton ball, "Honey, I was your dad's wife for nearly 20 years. He put me on a shelf and would dust me off when he'd notice me looking a little neglected. A piece of jewelry here, a trip in the summer there, a designer bag when he thought about it… which was—"

"Never." Eli looks at the tile floor sadly.

"I feel I should be grateful for him. He got us this house, gave me two beautiful children, but to him I was a nice warm body to sleep next to at night." You pick up the cotton ball and finish cleaning Eli's face, "You didn't break your hand to see Robby again 2 weeks after your father's passing, right?"

"Right."

"Viv didn't leave her backpack on purpose, did she?"

"No…"

"Right, I chose to go and get it. I chose to call him and text him. I invited him to your games and Viv's events. I let him stay over. I could have stopped, but why would I? He gave me the attention that I have wanted for decades. He listens to me, he laughs with me, he cooks with me. Can you remember a time your dad set foot in a kitchen with me?"

"Thanksgiving when he ate half the stuffing."

"Exactly." You smiles, "Robby could get tired of me tomorrow and I wouldn't care. I'd be heartbroken sure, but I have you and Vivian and I can get whoever I want."

"Gross, Mom." Eli laughs.

"You don't have to worry about me, Kid. Your mom is a fighter." You kiss his forehead, "Sit and rest. Ice your face and don't lay down."

"Okay, I love you."

"I love you too." You pack up the kit and head back to the kitchen. You think about what Eli had said as you come down the stairs. Robby gets up from your couch as you come into the room.

"How is he?" He asks.

"He was upset. I don't think he was expecting to be assaulted while playing basketball today." You say.

Robby hangs his head, "I wasn't either. I'm sorry for putting him in that position."

"Mhm." You start to chop up vegetables.

He comes around the counter seeing you are still upset. "Is there something else on your mind?"

"Did you pick me because you thought I was weak and vulnerable or was it because of my money?"

"What? Excuse me?" He gapes in shock. "What would make you think that?"

"Eli told me what Jake said. So, I just want to know. Don't worry I can take it."

"It wasn't either of those things…" He folds his arms, "You're gonna think I'm some sicko."

"Tell me. Did you see me as a fragile woman in need of a man?"

"No!"

"Then what was it? What was it about me?"

"I thought you were pretty when you cried." He admits. The room falls silent as you two stare at each other. He averts his eyes and clears his throat, "You were beautiful and I didn't want to see you cry again. I thought I would never see you again but then your children came in later that month and… I felt like it was fate."

For a moment you don't say a word. Robby feels like he's overstayed his welcome. He bows his head and walks around the counter. "My husband hated when I cried." You speak causing him to freeze. He turns to face you. You walk closer as you say, "He'd huff and roll his eyes. Even scowled at me once. I've never been told I looked pretty when I cried."

"You're beautiful." You stop in front of him. He holds your face in his hands, "What I did was wrong. A doctor should never be involved the way I was. I knew that when I did it. But I couldn't get you out of my mind. I wanted to be in your life. I want you in my life."

A smile grows on your face. You had just made peace with being disposable and now he was saying otherwise. You touch his cheek, "I love you."

"I love you too." He leans down and captures your lips in a kiss. He'll do anything to keep you. Your husband squandered you. Robby will pick up the pieces. You were to be cherished. Your family needed to be cared for. And with Eli going away for college, you would need Robby more than ever. He was going stay. He needed to stay. Nobody was going to change that.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆

It wasn’t even always to drink, not really. There was a whole nonalcoholic seltzer selection that Dana encouraged (threatened) them to start selling after Frank got back from rehab. For the first few years of your residency sometimes the thought of a crisp Shirley Temple was the only thing getting you through the night. It had become a rite of passage at this point, the first night you dragged Samira she stuck her nose up the whole time. Now, you guys had fries and Shirley temples on the hard nights. Whiskey on the harder ones. 

Tonight’s reason for celebration? Michael Robinavitch’s birthday, age undisclosed no matter how many times you all tried to bribe Dana for it. It was one of those rare occasions where a mixture of day shift and night shift could find a few hours to celebrate together, and Princess was determined for it to be a good one. The bar had been unofficially ‘bought out’ for three hours, a few balloons and a banner sat heavy above the dim yellow lights. 

Somehow, through your years in the Pitt, you have never once been to the bar at the same time as Jack Abbot, your night shift attending. You knew his appearances were scarce there, rarely feeling up to listening to old 90s country and hearing the squeal of residents he already spent too much time with. 

Ellis however, swore she had it on good authority he’d be there. There was no way he’d miss his best friend's birthday celebration. Which may or may not have been the reason you slipped on a little black dress that showed a little too much skin and paired it with a pair of tights and heels. A little darker eyeshadow than normal with your hair falling down your shoulders, but you would’ve dressed like that anyway. Right? That’s what you told yourself anyways.

Besides you had the night off, why not dress up? It had nothing to do with the way Ellis had to physically close your jaw some nights to stop you from drooling over your charts as you stared across the hub at the soldier. Or the way Santos and Whitaker had to deal with your tipsy ramblings about the silver-haired fox. So you had a little crush on your much older boss. It was fine, it was manageable. 

You exchanged words over patients, bantered like old friends, and flirted miserably with each other. It all started innocently enough, you were one of the newer residents with a sharp tongue. Rivaling the one the quick-witted attending had. The two of you meshed together well, matching each other's pace perfectly. It was a match made in heaven, or hell depending on what your coworkers had to deal with that night. 

With this in mind, it was no surprise that you’d been unnecessarily giddy as you slinked inside the dimly lit bar. Heels clicking against the sticky floor as you waved to your coworkers. 

“Welcome to the party.” Ellis snickered, grabbing your hand and spinning you around playfully, “You’re gonna give that old man a heart attack, you know that right?” 

You pushed her shoulder playfully, ignoring Mateo’s whistles and Princess’s cackling. “What old man? I have no idea what you’re talking about..” You drag on, giving side hugs to everyone. 

“Yeah, right.” Samira rolled her eyes, pulling you down into the seat next to her. 

“Where is everyone?” You asked, watching a few others trickle in slowly. Whittaker and Javardi came in, but Santos was absent. When you asked he just shrugged, saying she had an errand to run. 

Drinks were ordered, and the music was blaring out of the scratchy speakers of the jukebox. The tables and bar filled out gradually, laughter overlapping as more familiar faces slipped in, Robby finally making his way through the crowd to an eruption of cheers. Mateo grabbed him first, hauling him into a rough hug while shouting over the music, and you followed close behind.

”Happy birthday old man,” You giggled, as he pulled you into his side roughly. 

“Oh, kid,” He sighed, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “You’re getting there. Don’t you worry.” 

“Yeah, right.” Samira piped in, raising her glass to him as he passed. 

“He’s jealous of our eternal youth.” You pouted, sliding back into the barstool you claimed next to her and Ellis. 

You all watched as Robby made his rounds, plopping down in one of the stools next to Whittaker, who was still nervously awaiting his roommate's arrival. 

A drink was slid in front of you with a wink from the bartender, making Samira roll her eyes. “This poor college kid has been flirting with her every time we’ve come here for the past year and she refuses to put him out of his misery.” 

All you can do is shrug, “God forbid a girl likes free drinks.” 

“She’s saving her flirting for a certain old man.” Ellis cackled, making you slap her shoulder playfully. 

Before you could even get out groans of protest Princess was behind you, “She’s even got new underwear on today, I can tell.”

Laughs echo around you, making you roll your eyes. “Okay, okay. Laugh it up.” 

“What are we laughing about?” Robby asked, a beer bottle sat firmly in his hand now. 

“About how hard Y/l/n and Abbot are gonna flirt tonight,” Princess answered. 

“Oooo,” Robby whistled, “Is tonight the night? Everyone put their bets in.” 

Your brows furrowed, “Bet? What bet?” 

Suddenly there’s silence, Princess smiling before she pretended Mateo and Jesse were calling her back to their table. 

“You guys are ridiculous." You huffed, watching Ellis pull her found out typing frantically. “Parker why are you texting Shen-“ 

“Mind your business-“ 

“I hate you all.” 

You barely had a second to brace yourself before Jack slipped in behind you, close enough that you could feel the heat of him through the thin fabric of your top. His presence was overwhelming, yet you knew it was him by his sandalwood cologne and aftershave. You blamed his time in the military for his silence, or maybe it was the drink you’ve already downed to blame for your obliviousness. 

His hand brushed the bar just beside yours, caging you in without touching you, his head dipping slightly so his mouth was just by your ear.

“Even me, sweetheart?” 

Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass as you huffed out a quiet breath, tilting your head just enough to glance back at him, desperately trying to ignore how close his face was to yours, fighting the pull of a smile as you shot back, “You’re at the top of the list tonight, actually.” 

His deep laugh made chills appear on your bare skin, missing his warmth as he backed away. 

You barely had a second to recover before he shifted away from you just enough to step around, his presence brushing past as he moved toward Robby, clapping a hand against his shoulder in an easy, familiar greeting.

“Happy birthday brother,” he said, voice low but warm, and Robby grinned, lifting his beer. “Look who decided to show,” he shot back, pulling him into a quick half-hug. 

Ellis leaned down to your ear, a devilish smirk playing on her lips as she murmured, “Let the games begin. I have money down on you going home together, Shen has money on you two slipping into the bathroom at some point,” and you nearly choked, turning your head to stare at her in disbelief as she pressed a playful kiss to your cheek like.

“That’s such an invasion of privacy-“

“Earn your favorite coworkers some money tonight,” she added sweetly, already pulling away before you could form a proper protest, leaving the barstool beside you conveniently empty.

She was leaving you to the wolves, no doubt texting Shen endless updates for their own twisted amusement. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to steady yourself, but it didn’t do much when you glanced back toward Jack and found his eyes already on you.

He hadn’t missed a thing.

Even as Robby was mid-sentence beside him, even as the conversation continued like normal, his attention flickered back to you. His dark eyes roam shamelessly over your exposed legs, and the way your dress dipped low in the front and even lower in the back. 

This was new territory, there was no safety net of your work-issued scrubs or job hierarchies in place here. Come to think of it, you weren’t even sure if you’d ever seen Jack not in scrubs. His signature, tight black t-shirt sat deliciously on his muscles, with his well-worn blue jeans resting on his hips. 

You didn’t even realize you were staring just as bad as he was until he excused himself from Robby, sauntering over in his usual heavy gait. 

“Miss me?” he murmured, voice low, meant only for you.

You glanced at him, lips curving slightly despite yourself as you took a slow sip of your drink. “You were gone for like half a minute.”

“Felt longer,” he replied, eyes already on you, already taking you in in that way that made heat creep up your neck again, his thumb shifting lazily against the back of your chair like he had all the time in the world.

”This seat taken?” 

You shook your head, watching him slip into it easily.

You turned just enough to face him, your knee pressing firmly into his, your voice lighter than the way your pulse was starting to pick up. “You’re dramatic.”

”You’ve been working with me for how long now?” He smirked, “Though you knew that by now.” 

Both of you are pulled from your flirting by the front door of the bar flinging open. 

“I’m late, but I came bearing gifts.” Santos whistled, walking in with a paper bag held high above her head. 

There are a few cheers, she's doing a small spin on her heels before stopping at the bar. Robby gave her a short hug, shaking his head, “You didn’t have to get me anything.” 

“Don’t worry, I didn’t just get you something. So don’t feel special.” She teased, opening the bag to pull out two black cowboy hats. Cheap imitation leather things, probably bought at some party store. The reaction was immediate, loud cheers and clapping from the group. 

“Absolutely not.” Robby shook his head, a blush going to his cheeks. 

“Come on,” She whined, “For you ER cowboys.” She said, grabbing the second one and waving it towards Jack. He rolled his eyes, ready to protest in the same fashion before you spoke for him. 

“Abbot will wear his? Won’t you big boy?” You smirked, the straw from your drink still hanging from the corner of your mouth. Maybe it was the liquid courage, or just how fucking badly you wanted to see him in that hat. 

His mouth parted for a moment, before he looked down at you. His gaze was intense, and amusing. The whistles are drowned out, too busy eyeing you up and down. 

“Yeah,” He hummed, still not taking his eyes off of you. “I sure will, honey.” 

You could have melted into a puddle, right then and there. 

His thick fingers wrapped around your arm as he passed you, the contact unnecessary but welcome. He grabbed the cheap hat, placing it on his head with a shit-eating grin. It was all you wanted and more. He looked down at you with hungry eyes, his fingers tilting the edge of the hat down at you.

“Come on, Robby. Don’t leave me hanging.” He drawled, watching his ER cowboy counterpart do the same, more reluctantly. 

“Let’s fucking go,” Santos cheered, slipping through the crowd with your hand in hers. 

The music swelled around you, bass thrumming through the floor, and the group fell into it easily, the kind of uncoordinated, half-serious dancing that came from exhaustion and adrenaline finally burning off. Santos spun you once just for the hell of it, laughing when you stumbled slightly before catching your balance, and you leaned into it. Robby eventually gave in too, his earlier reluctance fading as he moved with the rest of you, one hand still occasionally adjusting the hat like he had not fully accepted his fate.

You watched him and Whittaker fall into an awkward dance, making you and Santos fall into a fit of giggles. Samira was behind you, with Santos in front as you all lazily draped over each other. Swaying to the beat of the music that Princess did an excellent job at picking out. 

Jack kept himself perched at the bar, sipping on a Diet Coke lazily talking to Ellis. You knew this, because every few seconds you’d feel his gaze heavy on your neck. 

“Okay,” Santos said suddenly, sliding in closer behind you, her hands settling on your hips as she leaned in. “Hold still.”

“What are you-“, you started, laughing as she pulled you into her arms, pulling your hips flush to hers. 

She dipped her head toward your ear, her voice dropping just enough to cut through the noise. “You know someone hasn’t been able to take their eyes off you, right?”

Your breath caught for half a second, your gaze instinctively flicking toward Jack, and sure enough, he was already watching you, his expression shifting slightly when he realized just how close you and Santos were. You could hear Samira’s laughter from behind you.

Santos' hand went up, waving softly at Jack. He waved back, a small grin appearing. 

“Santos,” you muttered, trying to brush it off, though the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“I’m just saying,” she replied, pulling back with a grin. “It’s getting painful to watch.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could not quite suppress the smile that followed, and when you looked back, his eyes were still on yours. 

Eventually, the music shifted, the energy dipping just enough that someone suggested drinks again, and the group moved as one back toward the bar, laughter spilling over itself as you claimed space along the counter. You all had missed Dana, who stopped by, dropping off a small cake, slightly lopsided and already missing a clean edge where someone had clearly tested it early, and it was set down in front of Robby with dramatic flair. 

“I feel ridiculous, like I’m wearing a costume.” Robby groaned, shifting the hat on his head every few minutes, as the small cake was cut into pieces and put on tiny plates to be passed around. 

“You gotta relax into it, brother.” Jack teased. “This is where I thrive.” 

Santos barks out a laugh, “Yeah? When are we gonna see you in that flight attendant outfit?” 

You nearly spit out your drink in a fit of laughter, alongside everyone else. 

“Okay, I feel like we’re missing something.” Mateo cried, ready to get more information on his attending. 

“When he came in on day shift with his SWAT uniform on,” Robby clarified, “Said we should all see him as a flight attendant." 

“When did that happen?” You asked, mouth feeling dry. 

“Uh,” Robby hummed, “About a week ago? Got shot at while performing a crike in the field.” 

The crowd laughs, a short, “He got shot?” From Javadi, her eyes wide. 

You tune all of that out, too lost in the thought of Jack Abbot sidling through the halls clad in his SWAT uniform, sweaty and covered in blood. 

“You okay, Y/n?” Samira asked, waving her hands in front of your face. 

“No,” You whine, almost like a petulant child. “I fucking missed it?” 

“Told you!” Santos giggled, “Especially when he took off the vest and was in that slutty little t-shirt. All I could think about was how pissed you’d be knowing you called out.” 

“I’m gonna be sick,” You sighed, “This is the worst day of my life. Did no one take pictures?” 

Joy rocked forward a little, flipping through her camera roll aggressively. “Let me look.” 

“Even the interns saw this and I didn’t?” You grumbled, setting your now-empty drink on the bar aggressively. 

“I took a picture.” Jack’s voice spoke softly into your ear, making you flinch for the second time this night.

“Jesus Christ," You breathed out, your hand on your chest. “Have you been here the whole time?” 

He just hummed, “I can show you my uniform if you wanna see it that bad, darling.” 

“You offering to put it on for me, cowboy?” You bite back, gaining your confidence back easily from the startle. 

You’ve flirted a lot with him over the years, and you’ve thought you’ve seen all the flustered looks Jack Abbot could muster. But this one? This was new. The moment the word cowboy slipped from your lips, his eyes got dark. You pocketed that piece of information and leaned back in the chair. 

“What if I am?” He hummed, blocking out the whistles of your friends all around you. 

“S‘long as you promise to have nothing underneath it.” 

A wolf whistle pulls you out of your bubble, Robby groaning playfully. “Keep it in your pants, God, you guys are worse here than at work.” 

“But Robby,” You pouted, “I’m very clearly trying to get something out of his pants.” 

A loud, “Someone call HR.” pulled the crowd into tipsy laughter again, making you nearly fall out. 

Jack’s shoulders brushed against yours again, as he pushed a small plate of cake towards you. “Eat, I know you’re drinking on an empty stomach.” 

You jutted your bottom lip out, “No, I’m not.” You lied, watching as he grabbed a plastic fork anyway. 

“Do I have to feed it to you?” 

He didn’t miss the sparkle in your eye at that, “If you’re offering.” 

There’s no hesitation as he scoops up some of the sugary concoction, holding the fork up. “Open up.” 

You widen your jaw, letting him slide the fork into your mouth as you bite down. Letting your lips stay wrapped around the utensil for longer than necessary, your eyes never once leaving his when you pulled off of it. 

“Mmmm.” You moaned almost obnoxiously, wiping some of the frosting off your lip. “Good cake.” 

“Yeah?” He managed the grunt out, before he placed the fork down on the plate.

If he had to watch that again, he’d have to explain to everyone why he had to throw his jacket over his lap.

You entertained him by finishing off a few more bites, before various hands were dragging you back out onto the floor. Like a magnet, you still found yourself waltzing back to the bar after your heels began to ache.

He was ordering yet another soda, when you slipped beside him.

“You not drinking?” You asked, your mouth feeling like it was full of cotton as you used the bar to keep yourself upright. 

The attending shook his head, “I’m on call in case Shen needs me.” 

You pouted at him, “No fun.” 

“Oh,” He shifted on his leg again, “Don’t worry about me. I’m having the time of my life watching you out there.” 

Your skin buzzes again. Your teeth bite down on your bottom lip before you speak up. “Do you wanna join me?” 

His warm eyes looked down at you in amusement, “You want me, to dance with you?” 

Your teeth pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, nodding up at him. “Come on, just one song?” 

He held your gaze for a second longer than necessary, like he was weighing something out, something heavier than the question you had just asked, and then he exhaled softly through his nose, a small smile pulling at his mouth as he shook his head at himself.

“One song,” he agreed.

You barely gave him time to reconsider before your fingers curled around his hand, tugging him away from the bar and back into the crowd, laughter spilling out of you as he followed. The music had shifted into something slower, heavier, the bass rolling through your chest as you turned to face him, your hands instinctively finding their place on his shoulders.

“This your big plan?” he asked, one brow lifting slightly. “What are we slow dancing at the bar?” 

“Don’t act like you’re not impressed,” you shot back, swaying closer. “Would you rather I grind all over you?” 

His hands hesitated for half a second before settling on your hips, firm and warm, as he had finally allowed himself the contact after months of carefully avoiding it. 

“You’re trouble tonight,” he murmured, his voice low enough that it barely carried over the music.

“Just tonight?” you teased, tilting your head. 

He huffed out a quiet laugh, his fingers flexing slightly against your hips, and you felt it, the shift in him, the control he usually held so tightly starting to slip at the edges. You leaned in closer, letting your body move with the rhythm, slow and deliberate, your hands sliding from his shoulders to the back of his neck. 

“Careful,” he warned softly, though there was no real bite to it.

“Or what,” you asked, your voice just as quiet. It didn’t help that the drinks made your lips loose, or that he looked so dangerously good in that fucking hat it made you want to jump his bones.

The question hung there between you, charged and unanswered, and instead of stepping back, you moved closer, letting your body brush against his, your legs slipping in between his. His grip tightened immediately, a sharp inhale slipping past his lips as you shifted against him again, slower this time, more intentional.

“That’s not fair,” he muttered, his head dipping slightly, his forehead almost brushing yours.

“You could stop me,” you replied, your breath catching just slightly.

Instead, his hands slid just a fraction higher along your hips, steadying you as you moved against him, the fabric of your dress riding higher with each slow shift, your pulse thundering loud enough you were sure he could feel it. 

The space between you disappeared entirely, when he spun you around. It took a second for you to catch your balance, before you pressed your ass into his hips automatically.

 “Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, one hand dragging slightly as he adjusted the hem of your dress where it had ridden too high, the motion lingering just a second longer than necessary.

You tilted your head back, just enough to take a look at him. “You alright?” 

“You’re so fucking-“ He cut himself off, as another sway of your hips grinding against his made his knees lock up. You could feel the bulge forming in his pants, it was undeniable.

You weren’t sure what it was, if it was the buzz running through your veins or both of you finally succumbing to this cat and mouse game you’ve been playing, but you couldn’t care less that you were practically dry humping in a room full of coworkers. All you cared about was how warm and heavy he was against you, the scent of his cologne that made your chest twist. 

“I’m what?” You asked, voice breathy as you threw an arm up around his neck, giving him a front row view to look down your already low-cut dress. 

This seemed to be his last straw, losing what little control he had left, as he pulled his hands away from your skin as if they were burning

Before you can process what’s happening, his hand is gripping your wrist, tugging you harshly towards the bathrooms. You’re following happily, a bounce in your step as he pushes you into the single bathroom. Locking the door aggressively behind him. 

You don’t even get a shaky laugh out, before his hands are gripping your face, pulling his lips onto yours. His lips are warm on yours, the subtle stubble of his cheeks scratching against your face. His hand on your neck, your hands pulling him by his shirt. 

The stupid cowboy hat gets thrown onto the bathroom counter, as your hands reach up to get a handful of his salt and pepper curls that you’ve been dying to get your hands on. 

“Do you have,” He pants into your open mouth, his tongue still swiping against yours with each breath, “Any fucking idea, how long I’ve wanted this?” 

He gives you no time to answer, his tongue assaulting yours. All you can get out is jumbled moans, as your back hits the bathroom door with a soft thud. He slots his leg between yours, one of his hands reaching down to squeeze at the thick flesh on the outside of your thigh, gripping your tights in between his fingers. 

Your dress is practically pushed up against your hips already, his lips leave yours for a moment, leaving a trail of spit behind. 

“These fucking legs,” He groans, his eyes darkening. “Not a single man out there deserves to see these.”

”Wore this for you,” You manage to croak out, pretending like his thick thigh wasn’t pressing against your throbbing cunt. 

“Did you, sweetheart?” 

You nod frantically, your fingers still tangled in his hair, while your other hand grips his shoulder like a lifeline. 

He leaned his head down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss on your neck. “Do you have sentimental value in these tights?” 

“N-no.” 

A loud rip echoes in the bathroom, as he rips the flimsy tights with his bare hands. He shreds the fabric on your upper thighs, pushing them down with such franticness that your head is spinning. 

His callused hands brush against your bare thighs now, pushing his thigh deeper into your spread legs. You moan at the contact, head lolling back on the wooden door. 

“Look at you, grinding out there on me like a bitch in heat.” He spat, “Now you’re begging to get off on my thigh, aren’t you?” 

“Fuck, p-please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for, arousal sat heavy in your gut. Every nerve in your body was on fire, aching to be quelled. 

“What do you want, hmm?” He asked, still slowly dragging your underwear-clad cunt against the rough fabric of his jeans. The friction was delicious, and feral. 

“Touch me,” You gasped, feeling him pull down the thin strap of your dress to mouth at your exposed tits. 

“I am touching you.” He hummed, taking your hardened bud into his mouth with a lewd pop. His tongue flicks against it sloppily. 

“You’re such a t-tease,” You tugged at his hair softly, “I want you to make me cum, please. Fuck me, something.” 

“Good girl,” He cooed, and the words made your legs tremble as his hand slipped between your thighs. The pads of his thick fingers pressed against the wet patch on your underwear, making a dirty smirk grace his lips. “You gonna be good for me?” 

“I’ll be your good girl.” The words were leaving your lips before you realized, knowing you’d do almost anything he’d say if it meant he kept his hands on you. 

Your underwear was roughly pulled to the side, his fingers coming into contact with your bare cunt. You nearly cried tears of relief when he began to circle your throbbing clit. 

“That’s all you needed, huh?” 

“Yes, m’your good girl.” You whined, feeling him spread your folds open, prodding your entrance. He slipped two fingers inside in one fell swoop, his thick fingers stretching you so wide you had to press your nails into his skin to quell the delicious ache. 

His fingers were perfect, thick and long and they knew exactly how fast to go. With his thumb brushing against your clit with each thrust. 

“Did you ever fuck yourself on your fingers thinking about me?” 

His fucking mouth was going to be the death of you. 

You forced the words out of our mouths, unwilling to give him a reason to stop. “Y-yes. All the time.” 

“Dirty girl.” He curled them even deeper inside of you. ”Do they feel as good as you thought?” 

A shrill laugh escapes before you can stop it, “F-fuck, they feel so much better.”

”You’re never gonna be able to fuck yourself again, I’m gonna ruin you huh?” He kept fucking going, “Your poor little fingers can’t reach this spot can they? No?”

Suddenly he was pressing against a spot that you’ve never felt before, white-hot pleasure licking down your spine. You were practically gushing around him, the wet sounds of him crooking his fingers against that perfect spot. 

“Breathe,” He cooed, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure. He held you up, feeling your legs trembling around him. “Just breathe. I’m gonna make you cum, gonna make you feel s’fucking good.” 

He was slurring over his praises, with each moan that gasped from your lips. There was no warning when you came, just your eyes rolling into the back of your head and the lewd sounds of your cunt squirting your release around his thick fingers.  

“-fuck my pretty girl.” He was still whispering, when you came to. Your forehead pressed against his shoulder, bite marks evident on his bicep from where you bit down while coming around him. 

Your mouth was dry, body lax against his as he slowly pulled his fingers out from you. There was a wince at the loss of contact, but he kept his thumb on your clit. Leaving featherlike circles on the sensitive bud as you came down. 

“You okay?” He asked, his voice louder, a little steadier now. As if he almost didn’t cum untouched in his pants at the sight of you coming undone on his fingers. 

“You’re insane,” The words blubbered out, a dopey smile on your face. “Absolutely fucking insane.” 

That got you a grin from him, “I thought you knew that?” 

He saw you gain your footing, running your hand down to his belt before he stopped you. You were just about to drop to your knees, mouth watering at the prospect of returning the favor with his cock in your mouth. 

“..wait-“

”What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” He assured you, pushing your now soiled underwear back in place. “I just wanna take you out of this filthy bar.” 

“You gonna take me home, Dr. Abbot?” you asked, your voice still a little breathless, a little unsteady as you leaned back against the sink.

“That sure is the goal, Dr. Y/l/n,” he replied, the corner of his mouth lifting as he reached for you, tugging your dress back down into place with careful hands that lingered just a second longer than necessary.

It was only then that you both paused, your attention dropping to your legs at the same time, and the reality of what had just happened settled in with quiet amusement. Your tights were completely ruined, torn beyond saving, thin fabric hanging in uneven strips where he had lost patience.

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Yeah,” he said under his breath, like he wasn’t even going to pretend to argue it, his gaze flicking over the damage before he crouched down in front of you. “Hold still.”

You started to reach down, but he stopped you with a light touch to your wrist, already working the remaining fabric down your legs, his movements slower now, more deliberate.

When he finished, you took the ruined tights from him, turning toward the trash without much thought, but he caught your hand before you could toss them.

“Hey,” he said, pulling them from your grip and shoving them into his back pocket with a casual shrug that didn’t quite match the look in his eyes. “A reminder.”

You huffed out a quiet laugh, heat rising to your cheeks again as you turned back to the mirror, doing what you could to fix your hair, smooth your dress, make yourself look even slightly presentable. It was a losing battle, but you tried anyway, fingers working quickly as you caught your reflection, flushed and a little wild-eyed.

Your gaze landed on the ridiculous cowboy hat sitting on the sink, and without thinking too much about it, you picked it up and placed it back on your head, adjusting it with a small, satisfied tilt.

“There,” you muttered. “Much better.”

Behind you, Jack let out a quiet breath that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, his hands settling briefly at your waist as he leaned in just enough for his voice to brush your ear.

“Come on, cowgirl,” he murmured, his fingers pinching lightly at your ass as you moved past him.

You squealed under your breath, shooting him a look over your shoulder, but the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away as you reached for the door and stepped back out into the bar.

All things considered, you should have realized everyone would have noticed your disappearing act. Especially when Ellis spotted you two walking back in with your hands intertwined. 

“Oh, Mama is taking the money home.” She yelled, causing a few people’s necks to turn. 

A chorus of reactions followed, laughter, whistles, someone shouting something you chose not to fully process, and you felt your face heat as you ducked your head slightly, squeezing Jack’s hand.

“Don’t,” you muttered under your breath, half laughing. “Don’t entertain them.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, completely unfazed, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles.

Santos leaned against the table, arms crossed, a smug grin plastered across her face. “About damn time,” she called out.

“Shut up,” you shot back, though there was no real bite to it.

“Be safe,” Robby added, shaking his head but smiling anyway. “And for the record, I want details later.”

“You’re not getting anything,” Jack cut in smoothly, already guiding you past them.

“Liar,” someone called after you, and it sent another round of laughter through the group.

”I’ll get the details.” Samira called out, very sure of herself. 

You offered quick goodbyes, half distracted, your attention already shifting elsewhere, and Jack didn’t slow, his hand steady in yours as he led you through the crowd and toward the exit despite their protests to stay longer. 

“Let her get laid!” You heard Santos yelling, before you were hit with the chill night air. 

“Still with me?” Jack asked, glancing down at you as he guided you toward the parking lot.

“Yeah,” you said softly, looking up at him. “I’m with you.”

His truck came into view a few rows down, and that familiar ache began burning up your spine once again. 

“Good,” he said, quieter now, his gaze holding yours for a moment longer before he reached for the passenger door. 

Now, Jack Abbot was a responsible man, everyone knew this. Despite his affinity for dangerous and adrenaline-seeking hobbies, he was very safe and responsible with everyone but himself. So when his knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel, while your hands were slipping into his pants, making it impossible for him to focus on the road, he had no choice but to pull the car into the PMTC back parking lot. 

He worked there for long enough to know that the cameras stopped working back here a decade ago, and no one even bothered with the desolate corner. 

As soon as the car was pulled into park, seatbelts were off and he was pulling you onto his lap. 

“Greedy little girl, just couldn’t fucking wait.” He groaned playfully, pushing up the fabric of your dress up your stomach. 

“Please,” You huffed, shimmying out of your underwear above him. “You’re the one who couldn’t wait. I barely got my hands on you and you almost pulled over right then and there.” 

“Can you blame me?” His mouth watered as your tits spilled out, your glistening cunt hovering above his lap. 

“Get these, off.” You whined, your hands tugging at his jeans. 

He felt like a horny teenager, his old bones aching as he tried to maneuver around in the front seat of his truck. It took a few unsexy moves and leaning the seat back for his boxers to get pushed down his legs successfully. 

“S’fucking big.” Your eyes were wide, watching his heavy cock fall against his stomach. Barely unable to hold itself up from the sheer weight. The thick vein that ran up the side of it pulsed under your gaze. 

“Yeah?” He smirked.

”That’s gonna break me in half,” You laugh nervously, despite your cunt merely dripping at the idea of taking him 

“You can take it,” Abbot says, so sure of you that it makes your heart skip a beat. “Ride me, cowgirl.”

A series of cockdrunk giggles leaves your lips when his hand comes down to slap your ass, as you straddle his hips. You’re thankful for his filthy mouth making you wet enough that when his thick tip catches on your entrance it slips in with no hesitation. The burn on the way down makes it grit your jaw, tears prickling in the corner of your eyes. 

“There you go,” He whispers, lips leaving kisses on your shoulder. “S’fucking tight, just gotta let me stretch this pussy of yours, m’kay?” 

“F-fuck,” You’re shaking by the time your hips meet his, you’ve never been this full in your life. He’s taking up space in your chest as you try to catch your breath, with each coo of praise he’s whispering into your ear. 

“You okay?” He asked, concern filling his eyes as he pressed small kisses to your lips. 

“Yes,” You whined, kissing him back harshly, “You’re just fucking huge.” 

“Does it feel good?” 

“Yes.” Tears were nearly streaming down your cheeks from how good, how overwhelming it was. 

“Shhhh, I got you, sweetheart.” He promised, and you believed him as he alternated between kissing and sucking wherever his lips could reach while your body adjusted to the stretch of him. 

The first rise and drop of your hips nearly had you passing out, 

“Oh m’god,” you mumbled, both hands gripping his shoulders. “Oh, so good, so fuckin’ good.”

“S’tight.” He said through clenched teeth, watching as you slowly worked up the rhythm. He watched his cock, covered in your slick slide slowly in and out of your cunt. The sight alone had his balls tightening. 

It didn’t take much longer for the pain to turn to pleasure, and for you to find yourself riding him so hard it was taking both of your breaths away. It was the combination of the months of sexual tension exploding into this one moment. 

Wet, lewd sounds of skin slapping against skin echo through the truck, the windows fogging up almost immediately. 

His hand is on your jaw, as he forces his thumb between your lips. You took it greedily, sucking his thumb in your mouth as you continued grinding against him. Each heavy drag of your clit against the gray patch of hair on his pelvic bone brought you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You’re so beautiful." His eyes meet yours, unable to pull away. He takes each expression to memory, the desperate moans leaving your mouth, the curve of your tits as they bounced, the furrow of your brows each time he hit just the right spot. 

Jack’s hips buck up suddenly, meeting you halfway when you take a particularly long time grinding down on him. You gasp, tightening your hand on him, your nails digging harshly into his chest.

“Just like that, oh fuck. y'r gonna make me cum, shit," You manage to cry out, as he fucks up into you with all the strength that he can muster. He knows he’ll be sore tomorrow, but none of that matters with how good you feel wrapped around him.

“F-fuck me too, baby you gotta cum first.” He stutters out, slightly panicked by how fast his orgasm has crept up on him. 

“I’m so close.” You nearly sobbed, your mouth wide drooling into his shirt as his cock hit the same spot from earlier that had you making a mess on his hands. 

“I’m- fuck-" his mouth opens on a guttural groan as he pulses hot inside of you, holding you down on his cock so hard that you have to lean forward and bite into his shoulder to process it. 

This is all it takes for you to cum with him, your second orgasm hits you like a fucking train. More satisfying than the first as you squeeze around him, your cunt suckling in every drop of his release. 

You’re too sore to move once his hips still, both of you clinging to each other like a lifeline. The air is thick with sweat and sex, and you can only imagine how his truck looked from the outside. 

He’s drawing soft circles on your back with his fingers, as you catch your breath. 

“I can’t believe we waited so long to do that.” You broke the silence, causing a chuckle to escape his chest. 

“S’your fault.” 

You faux gasp, “Is not!”

”Is so.” He teases, with no real heat in his tone.

”You should have bent me over the gurney and fucked me that one day I did a pigtail cathedor without you and you came back with stars in your eyes.” You admitted, feeling his softening cock twitch inside of you despite itself.

He pinched your hip playfully, “You’re lucky I’m not 20 years younger, or I’d flip you into the backseat and fuck that mouth of yours.” 

“Nah,” You lift off of him with a wince, immediately mourning the loss of him. “I like you just how you are, old man.” 

“Old man.” He grumbled, helping you back into the passenger seat. Thankful he’s overprepared, he cleans you up with a clean towel as both of you redress. 

The truck rocked just enough to make you both pause for half a second before dissolving into quiet laughter, the kind that came from adrenaline finally settling and the sheer ridiculousness of it all catching up at once. Your head tipped back against the seat, breath uneven, the cowboy hat taunting you both as it sat on the dashboard. 

You nudged his arm lightly, still smiling. “So-“

He turned toward you then, one arm resting along the back of the seat, his gaze steady but warm in a way that made your chest tighten just a little.

“So,” He mimics you, “This is the part where I realize I should’ve taken you out on a proper date first.”

You raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “Should’ve?”

He leaned in just slightly, close enough that you could feel the warmth of him again, but this time slower, easier.

“Will,” he corrected. “Definitely will.”

You smiled at that, softer now, reaching down blindly until your fingers found the cowboy hat and placed it back on his head with a crooked tilt.

”You think you can handle me, cowboy?” 

— —

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"This is a live-in position?" you clarify as you sit at the breakfast bar in his home.

He nods his head, "Yea, um, with my job I have to be away from home a lot. I don't like leaving Lena alone."

You blink, "Well yes, she's six. I wouldn't leave her alone either. That's fine. I'll just take Saturday afternoons until Monday mornings off."

The man before you frowns, "What if I need you to work weekends?"

"We can discuss overtime, Mr Blackwell. But I will be taking weekends. I'm being generous with Saturday mornings," you say with a frown.

His frown deepens but he nods.

"Lena's mother would do a grocery run-"

"Mr Blackwell, I'm not a maid. Of course, I'll cook for Lena. But I don't clean, I don't cook, I don't grocery shop."

"If I paid more?" he asks then.

You cock your head to the side, "If you paid more, then we can discuss that, of course."

So that's how you end up working for Barry Blackwell.

You don't mind living in the house by the beach. You get Lena up every morning, you make breakfast, bring her to school. You go clean the house when she's away, even do the damn grocery shopping with the wad of money he leaves on top of the microwave each week. When you pick Lena up from school, you always bring her to the beach.

"Daddy never takes me to the beach," she tells you one day as you eat ice cream.

Yea, you gather. You really don't like her dad. But he's rarely at home like he said.

"Uncle Pope brings me," she says. "We go to the swings."

You stroke her curls and smile, "Your uncle? Does he live around here?"

Lena shrugs, "I think so. Sometimes he's at Grandma Smurf's. But he was away for a really long time. I don't know where. But he's nice."

One morning after you drop Lena to school, you walk into the house to find a blonde woman sitting in the kitchen. You jump when you see her. Nobody has been in the house bar you and Lena since Baz left at the start of the week.

She sizes you up and down, "Where's my son?"

"Mr Blackwell?" you ask.

You've never seen this woman before. Baz told you not to let anyone into the house when he was away. Fuck. The older woman softens at your tone.

"Who are you exactly?" she asks, pursing her lips as she eyes you up.

"I'm Lena's nanny," you explain. "Mr Blackwell hired me a few weeks ago. He needed the help after his wife left. I just dropped her at school. Sorry, he never mentioned any family."

She frowns at your words, "Well that would be why I haven't seen my grandbaby in so long. I didn't know what Baz was doing with her. But he's got a pretty girl like you taking care of her.

"You can call me Smurf. Everyone else does. How about you bring Lena over to my house after school?"

"Oh, sure. I, well, don't know where you live," you confess.

Smurf smiles, "Well why don't you come over now. And we can go get Lena together. We have a pool," she tells you.

You brighten up immediately, "Oh! I was trying to teach Lena to swim. She loves to go to the beach but she can't swim. You think I could teach her in your pool?"

Smurf is delighted by the idea. Let's you gather your and Lena's things before driving you over to the Cody house. You've never been to this area of Oceanside. You don't expect the huge house. And you don't expect to meet Smurf's other sons.

Craig and Deran are making noise by the pool when you walk in. Smurf just ushers you into the kitchen.

"Have you had breakfast?" she asks you.

"Um, no I usually eat after I come back from dropping off Lena," you respond.

Smurf immediately starts cooking for you. You hate being doted on like that. You haven't been in so long. So you try to help but Smurf tells you to sit.

"Can I make you coffee at least?" you finally ask.

Smurf allows this, and you get to work with making fresh coffee for them. You look up when you hear heavy footsteps approaching. Your heart skips a beat when you look up to see a man storming into the kitchen handsome, auburn hair, hazel eyes and sun-kissed skin.

"Who's that?" he asks Smurf, ignoring you.

"Baz hired a nanny for Lena," his mother responds, introducing you.

He frowns as he sizes you up, "What did he do that for? We can take care of her."

Smurf scowls at him, at the suggestion. She doesn't want him to say something stupid in front of this stranger. She puts her arm around you, squeezing you gently.

"This is my eldest boy, Andrew," she tells you. "He's a bit rough around the edges but I promise, he's a sweetheart underneath it all. Now you go eat your breakfast while I speak to him."

You do as you're told. A part of you knows better than to go against what this woman says. It's a gut feeling. And you don't go against gut feelings.

When Smurf leaves you and Lena back to Baz's, Smurf grips your wrist, stopping you from getting out of her car.

"Let's not tell Baz about this visit. I think it's best if we just keep it between us," she says.

You nod your head. You're not stupid enough to disagree with her. And anyway, it's just swimming lessons.

Since Pope learned about you, he knew he needed to keep an eye on you. He spent a week following you. Watching as you brought Lena to school. Where you do your grocery shopping. He watches you when you go to the beach before you have to collect Lena. He likes watching how your body moves in the water when you go for a swim. He tries to ignore how his body reacts to you when you walk out of the sea, water sliding down your body.

You have no idea about Pope Cody. One morning, when you go to wake Lena up to get her ready for the day, you go into her room, and she's not there. Your heart drops. She's not watching TV. She's not in the bathroom. You search every inch of the house.

You're about to call Baz when the door opens and Lena walks in. You rush over to her, falling to your knees and cupping her little face in your hands.

"Where were you?" you ask. "You know you can't just wander outside on your own."

"I wasn't alone," she says as the door opens wider.

You look up from where you're kneeling on the ground to see a man come in. Andrew. The man who you met briefly at Smurf's house.

"Uncle Pope brought me to swings."

You lean back on your kneels with a frown as you look at him. He stares you down and you can't help the way your heart races. You blame it on the stress of Lena going missing.

"You shoulda woke me up," you say to her, stroking her cheeks again before standing up.

Andrew, Pope, looks at you. Cocking his head to the side.

"Where's Baz?" he asks, his voice rough.

Lena answers, "He's away..."

"And is he away a lot?" Pope asks, his eyes flicking to you.

"Lena, can you get ready for school, sweetie. I'll make you breakfast in a second," you say.

As soon as Lena rushes off you turn your attention to Pope.

"You can't just break in here and take off with her," you tell him. "I thought she was kidnapped. Mr Blackwell woulda killed me!"

Pope sizes you up, "She's my niece. I can see her whenever I want."

You look at him like he's crazy. He has to be crazy. It's barely 6am and he thought he'd pay a visit?!

"I knew Baz wasn't around. I was worried about Lena. I thought she was here alone."

"And you didn't call your brother?" you ask, folding your arms in annoyance.

"He didn't answer. Where is he?" he retorts.

You shrug as you turn to the kitchen, Pope's eyes fall to the swell of your ass under your sleep shorts.

"He told me he travels for work. Is that not true?" you ask as you pull out bacon from the fridge.

Pope just sniffs in return. He knows his brother is probably with Lucy in Mexico. Leaving his daughter with a stranger.

"You're a nanny?" he asks then.

"Yea, I worked in Europe as an au pair. I've done all my courses. Everything is above board, if that's what you're tryin' to get at," you say as you start making breakfast.

"And you live here? With Baz?"

You shake your head quickly.

"I'm a live-in nanny. But I don't live with Baz," you say, maybe a bit harsher than usual. "You want coffee?"

Pope's lips twitch, as close to a smile as you'll get. He likes you.

You don't expect Pope to still be there after you get home from dropping Lena to school. But he's there, cleaning the kitchen.

"Lena really likes you," you say. "When she goes to her grandmother's she's always asking if you'll be there. I'm teaching her how to swim. I can't believe she's a Cali girl and she can't swim!"

Pope just shrugs. He's not much of a talker.

"Look, I have no problem with you seeing her but I'd appreciate if you told me first."

He takes another minute before looking at you.

"So I need your number," you say offering him your phone.

That's how you end up texting Pope Cody.

Pope Cody: Hello. I can pick Lena up from school today. I'm in the area.

Pope Cody: Good Morning. I can take Lena for breakfast, she likes a pancake place on the way to school.

Pope Cody: Hello. I made too much spaghetti, I can bring some over for Lena and you if you'd like.

You smile whenever your phone vibrates. You like talking to Pope. Even if it is just about Lena.

Whenever Baz is there, the texts don't come in. Sometimes Pope will come over to hang out with Baz. But you never get to say too much to him as Baz suggests you take Lena somewhere else.

Although one day you walk in as Baz snarls in Pope's face, "No one is ever gonna have a kid with you."

Pope can't meet your eyes as he walks past you to leave.

You spend your Saturday afternoons and Sundays out of Oceanside. Unless Baz has requested that you stay. He pays you in cash beforehand, and you just spend the weekend with Lena. Sometimes at Smurf's. Sometimes with Pope.

You're on the beach one Saturday with Lena, Pope is pushing her on the swings and you are watching on. A woman comes up to you and smiles.

"Your little girl is so cute and your husband is so good with her," she says. "I have to drag my husband out with them."

You should correct her, but you don't. You want people to think that you're a family. It would be nice...

Soon you find yourself texting Pope, not just about Lena.

You: I watched a documentary about wolves I think you'd like

You: I was going to go to the beach tomorrow did you wanna come? Deran said you used to like surfing!

Baz comes in all flustered one afternoon. He hasn't been home in almost a month. It's the longest that he's been away. He rushes over to Lena and she's so happy to see her Daddy. You go back to cleaning as she babbles about everything that has happened since he's been away. You smile.

She's a great kid. One of the best you've taken care of.

You hear Baz ask her to repeat herself and your head shoots up.

"She's teaching me how to swim in Grandma Smurf's pool," you hear her say.

It's not her fault. She's just a kid. And even though you had told her not to say anything about Pope or Smurf, you can't blame her for spilling details. But the colour drains out of your face nevertheless. Especially when you hear Baz telling her to go to her room. She does as she's told.

You continue cleaning as you hear Baz's footsteps storm into the kitchen. He grabs your hair and pulls you backwards. He's pressed against your back and you're looking up at him, fear coursing through your body.

"I thought I told you not to let anyone in the house. And now I hear Smurf has been sniffing around. And you're bringing my kid around to her house," he hisses at you.

You whimper as his grip on your hair tightens.

"She's her grandmother. I didn't think-" you being before Baz slams your head against a cupboard.

"Yea, you didn't fuckin' think. When I tell you something, you fuckin' listen. You stupid bitch," he snarls, hitting your head against the cupboard again.

You're bracing yourself for another slam, but you're suddenly falling to the ground. Baz has been hauled off you. You collapse. You turn to see Pope dragging him off you. He punches him once before pushing him to the other side of the room.

You whimper when you hear footsteps coming towards you but it's not Baz. Pope scoops you up into his arms and carries you out of the house.

"Lena," you breathe shakily.

You don't wanna leave her alone in that house.

"She'll be okay. Baz isn't gonna hurt her," Pope promises as he brings you to his car.

He puts you into the passenger side and drives you to his home. You've never been to Pope's house before, even though you spend most days with him now. You start to get out of the car, but Pope once again gathers you in his arms, bringing you into the house.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, his face a mask of anger.

He places you down on the couch. He strokes the cuts on your face, he can already see where the bruises will come up. Baz at least hadn't broken your nose.

"Let me clean you up," he breathes after you nod that you're okay.

You're shaken but it wasn't the first time that you've gotten hit. It's just been a while. Fuck, you thought you were over that stage of your life. Shouldn't have gone to fuckin' Oceanside to mind some kid.

"You promise Lena'll be okay?" you ask him when he finally returns with water and cotton pads.

Pope grunts as he cleans you up, "I wouldn't have left her there if I thought Baz would hurt her...I'll get her in the morning and bring her here. Is that okay?"

"Thank you, Andrew," you say softly. "You didn't have to do any of this. And thanks for being there."

You don't query how he knew you needed his help. You're just glad he was there. His large hands are still holding your face and his rough thumb slides over your lower lip. He is well aware that he shouldn't do this. But he can't help himself. You gently kiss the pad of his thumb, your eyes never leaving his.

He brushes his thumb slowly over your cheekbone. His eyes never leave yours. Pope has never been good with eye contact but he holds yours for what seems like hours. He doesn't want to push you. Not after what Baz did to you. But you're the one who finally breaks and presses your lips against his. Pope tentatively kisses you back but when he hears your little whimper, he's a goner. His hands drop from your face to your waist, pulling you onto his lap.

You've been waiting for months to run your fingers through his auburn curls. You tug at his curls as you deepen the kiss. You're suddenly dry-humping with Pope Cody on his couch like two teenagers. And you couldn't stop if you tried.

That is until his hands slide up your shirt and grasp your tits. You moan into his mouth as his rough palms press against the swell of your breasts, squeezing and releasing. He pulls your shirt over your head, breaking the kiss for just a second to do so. He doesn't even undo your bra, just pulls the cups down so your breasts fall free. He flips you onto your back. He kisses down your neck and then to your tits. He spends what feels like hours laving at your nipples. Whichever tit isn't in his mouth is being played with by his rough hands. Your arousal is all but rolling down your thighs when he finally pulls away from your tits.

His eyes are so blown out they're almost black. He pulls your jean shorts and panties down in one move. He groans at the sight of you.

"Lemme see that pretty pussy, baby," he tells you as he spreads your legs. You've never been this turned on in your life.

"Andrew Cody, if you don't fuck me right now," you whine out.

Your whines only result on him smacking you hard on your weeping cunt. Your back arches off the couch. Fuck you need him.

"Now lemme see that pussy."

Pope crawls between your legs, getting eye level down with your pussy.

"So pretty," he praises as he spreads you open, his eyes scanning you. He blows on you, causing you to shudder. His thumb teases your clit watching how you clench around nothing.

"So, so pretty," he praises.

Finally he presses kisses up your thighs and eventually presses his tongue inside you.

"Fuck, yes, right there," you whine out in pure need, grinding against his face.

Pope decides he needs to have you ride his face next. But not yet. He wants to play some more. He focuses his attention on your clit, hooking your legs over his wide shoulders. And within just a handful of ministrations, you're coming undone over his tongue. Your orgasm hits like a freight train. You're painfully turned on. You've been wound up for so long. And Pope Cody is just so happy to help you let loose.

Once you come down from your high, you pounce on him, pulling his clothes off. Desperate to see him. He chuckles softly as he helps you take his clothes off.

You follow his lead, kissing over the freckles on his neck, down his chest and stomach. He tenses under your movements and you smirk, nipping over his abs. His cock is leaking, standing to attention. And he's fucking huge. You should have expected that.

"Wanna fuck my face, daddy?" you coo up at him.

That name sends Pope wild, he grabs your hair and guides you down onto him. Once you've gotten used to him, he starts rocking his hips up. He holds onto you as he starts fucking into your mouth just like you asked.

"Fuck, sweetheart. Shit," he grunts after just a handful of thrusts. "I can't take this anymore. I need to be inside you. I need to fuck that pretty pussy of yours."

Pope grips you, flipping you back onto your back so he's on top of you again. He teases your clit with the head of his cock, smirking as you start to squirm.

"You want daddy's cock, huh? You gonna be a good girl and take my cock?" he growls in your ear.

You nod desperately, dumbly. Finally he's pressing inside you, inch by inch. You lock your legs around his hips as he finally bottoms out.

"Just like heaven, baby girl," he breathes in your ear.

He should be gentle, sweet, slow, after what Baz did to you. But he's desperate. So he starts jerking his hips in and out of you. The snap of skin on skin fills the room. Your pussy is so wet you can hear it just as well. You're so desperate for him.

"You gonna cum on daddy's cock?" he breathes as he fucks you. His hands palm at your tits with each thrust.

And as if on command, you cum again. You soak him and Pope looks victorious. But he's not finished with you yet. He pulls out to flip you onto your stomach and press inside you again.

"Fuck, so big, daddy," you whine for him as he pounds into you.

Pope kisses over your neck and down your spine, as best as he can from this angle. He buries his face into your neck as he hits that sweet spot inside you over and over again. Your eyes roll back in your head as your third orgasm hits you.

This time you clench so tightly over his cock, Pope can't move. Your cunt literally milks his cock, forcing his orgasm out of him. He hasn't cum in so long that his release his hot and thick. It starts sliding out of you as your abused pussy can't take it all.

And Pope, you hates mess, marvels at the sight. After you've both come down from your highs, he gathers you in his arms.

"Sorry...was that too much?" he breathes.

You shake your head, "No. It was perfect. Needed it. Needed you."

"I can sleep out here," he says suddenly.

You look at him in shock, "Oh no baby. I wanna sleep right next to you. What if I need daddy's cock in the middle of the night?"

Pope gives you a wolfish grin as he kisses you again.

Baz thinks everything is alright when he wakes up the next morning and sees that Lena is already gone to school. But then he realises that all your shit is gone. And he sees red.

He drives straight to Smurf. Planning on spreading some bullshit about the nanny. Some sly bitch you tried to swindle him. He walks into the house, crocodile tears at the ready so mommy can fix his mess.

He frowns when he sees Pope sitting on the couch looking like a fucking king and you curled into his side. He's running his hand up and down your arm as the cuts and bruises Baz left on your face are on display.

"Baz," Smurf tuts when she sees him. "We need to work on your temper."

a/n: thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! any and all feedback appreciated. requests open

taglist: @sweetashhh @orangecheescakeleftover @elenamoncadaibarra @joelmillrenthusiast @abbotaes

He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw ached, fighting with every ounce of his strength to keep his face from crumpling. Seeing you stand there, so small, so frightened, and so utterly devastated by his sudden cruelty, was tearing his soul apart. I love you. I love you so much, his mind screamed. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms and tell you he was just joking, that he was not really mad, but he had to do this, for you. So he could live with himself knowing that what could happen to him in the war will not hurt you as much as it would if he allowed you to hope.

He needed you to hate him. He needed you to move on and let go of him. He did not want you to wait for nothing if he ended up dead in the war, because the thought of you wasting your youth mourning a ghost was a fate worse than Eywa's judgment.

So, he delivered the final blow, letting the venom drip from his tongue.

“And who's to say I won't meet a Metkayina woman I would want to actually mate and settle down with?” He said, watching you rear your head back as if you had been slapped. “We’re not... that serious, Y/N. Surely you know that? You're not really thinking that I would like to keep you knowing that there is more to life than here, do you?”

Your breath hitched, staggering a step backward, the words striking you like a physical blow to the gut. Hot tears pooled in your eyes, blurring the silhouette of the man you had given your heart to.

“Why are you being so mean?” You let out a breathless, desperate laugh, trying to play it off as a misunderstanding, but the illusion shattered as the first tear spilled over your cheek.

Neteyam didn't respond. He balled his hands into tight fists, his claws digging painfully into his palms to stop himself from reaching for you. I love you so much, baby. I love you so much.

“Do you mean that?” you asked in a small, fragile voice when he didn’t respond. Your lower lip quivered, and the sight nearly brought him to his knees.

He swallowed the lump of what seemed like obsidian blade in his throat, forcing his voice an octave deeper to mask the tremble threating to expose him. “Yeah. It’s common sense.“

You nodded slowly, the harsh truth settling deep into your bones. Reaching deep down for whatever pride you had left, you managed to form a smile onto your face.

“Then... have a good life... and I wish you well,” you said, your voice breaking entirely on the final words. “I love you... so much. Even if yours was not real, mine is, Neteyam.”

Before he could break, you turned on your heel and walked away. He watched your shoulders slumped, shaking with violent, silent sobs. The moment you rounded the thick roots of Hometree, out of his sight, you broke into a desperate run, fleeing into the dark alcoves of Hometree with no idea where you were going.

                                                         ₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

The rhythmic sound of your pestle grinding against the mortar filled the healing pavilion. The air was thick with the sharp, clean scent of crushed roots and soothing eucalyptus leaves.

But the quiet was soon disrupted by the sound of urgent footsteps, too light to belong to an adult, and you knew what was to come.

“Ma? Ma!“

A tiny, high-pitched voice echoed outside, making your lips twist in a smile. You stopped your grinding and lifted your head up to give your son your whole attention, immediately seeing his small and chubby form bound into the pavillion. He was clutching his Toruk plaything.

You raised a brow at him as you watched him heave, knowing he ran his way up here from only Eywa knows where. “Where were you, Ervo?”

“Mama, Toruk Makto is back! My friends... My friends... I saw him!” he jumped on the soles of his feet, showing the Toruk toy right up to your face. “Toruk is this big!” the boy chirped, his round, golden eyes wide with pure, innocent excitement.

You smiled, lifting a hand to cup his small face. “Were you so excited?” you asked. “Did you see Toruk Makto, too?”

Your son nodded enthusiastically, making his little toy dive-bomb into a pile of uncounted herbs. To him, Jake Sully was a legendary figure from the stories told around the communal fires, a hero who came from the stars. He was excited about the idea that his favorite hero once lived in this Hometree, so now you could barely comprehend his joy about Toruk Makto finally being home, sleeping under the very same canopy as him.

He plopped down to sit in front of you. “With his family!” he said. “He.. He has a big son.”

Your fingers froze just as you were reaching for the covered bowl of his fruit snacks. Your head tilted, hardening your resolve and grabbing the bowl for your son. “Now, you need to eat fruits. Toruk Makto doesn’t like kids who don’t eat healthy food.”

The boy eagerly grabbed the bowl and started munching on the cut up fruits. You grabbed a soft woven cloth to wipe his sweat off with it. At twenty-two, you were now far from the girl left weeping in the roots of the forest. You had survived the worst from the clan, the whispered gossips, and the subtle shunning due to your unique situation.

Of course, there are single mothers in the clan, too, but all of them were simply widowed by war. None of them were an unmated, nineteen-year-old girl whose child was fathered by an unnamed man. But your people were nothing but progressive, and so you were not really openly disrespected, but you knew that Mo’at’s choice to make you her tsakarem was met by a strong opposition by the council.

You watched your son eat, hoping against hope that the son he was talking about was Lo’ak. The Great War had ended weeks ago and peace was supposedly returning to Eywa’eveng, but until this exact moment, the reality of what that meant hadn't truly pierced the quiet bubble you had built for yourself and your son.

You didn't know if he was among them. For all you knew, he had stayed true to his word. Perhaps he had long since met a Metkayina woman he would actually take as a mate and not simply... play with. Perhaps she was someone proud, strong, and perfectly suited for the firstborn son of Toruk Makto, completely different from the girl he discarded three years ago.

A sudden, sharp rush of resentment and old bitterness flared up in your chest, hot and wicked. You shouldn't care. You had braved everything alone and raised a beautiful, thriving boy without a single piece of help from the man who broke you. You had sworn you would never feel a damn thing for him again.

But as you turned your head to look back at your son, who was currently making small noises as he made his Toruk toy fly, your heart clenched. The boy was growing more and more into the exact likeness of his father every single day. From the curve of his brow and nose down to the way he smiled.

It was probably a fate worst than being shunned by Eywa. Forgetting and moving forward are not for you, not when you carried and are raising a child you share with who you are supposed to forget. And the fact that those things must be so easy for him, knowing that he had discarded everything that could possibly hold him back, pisses you off at least once a day.

You convinced yourself he was not among his family who came back, or that if he did come back, it was only to show his Metkayina mate to the people. And then he will go back to where he belongs, and your son would remain yours and yours alone.

The truth did not come from the announcements for the returning warriors, it came from the idle, buzzing gossip of the clan as you made your way up the winding pathways toward your kelku later that evening. Two weavers were sitting near the common walkways, their hands busy with fiber, their voices carrying easily through the humid air.

“...and Neteyam, oh, I remember when he left. Every girl I know was upset,” one groaned, leaning in. “He’s a great warrior, they say he fought fiercely at the vanguard. I’m so glad he’s back now... and unmated still!”

“Truly? No Metkayina woman caught his eye?” the other replied, sounding surprised. “I saw him, he is so handsome... and even much bigger than he was when he left. Many must have tried.”

You forced your feet to keep moving, your grip tightening around your sleeping son that the boy let out a confused whimper. You rubbed his back, “I’m sorry, my love,” you cradled his head and he purred.

The gossip words swirled in your mind still, unleashing a chaotic storm of conflicting emotions.

A bitter, venomous part of you felt a sickening sense of vindication to know that he is unmated. Good, you thought sharply. It serves him right. He had shattered you on the pretext of finding someone better, only to return with nothing but himself. But beneath that spite lay a far heavier dread. If he was unmated, he had no anchor elsewhere. He was going to stay.

You put your son down on his cot, caressing his small head. You laid his Toruk toy beside him, smiling when you remembered his earlier excitement. You would withdraw for this night completely, choosing not to join the communal dinner and eating a quiet meal of cold roasted roots and fish, but you knew this won’t be sustainable in the long run if you would keep skipping the communal meals.

Hometree was massive, you could very much use it as a shield to not cross paths with Neteyam as much as possible. You didn't need to sit at the tables or mingle in the open clearings; you could just slip down to the communal kitchens, gather your meals, and retreat back to the safety of the healing pavilion.

​And that was exactly what you did the next day.

You arrived at the kitchens at its busiest. Huge clay pots simmered over open flames, filling the air with the rich, savory scent of roasted meats and sweet, starchy roots.

“Busy day?” you asked Marla, watching all the cooks around her moving like they do during feasts.

Marla turned to you, her kind, crinkling eyes smiling immediately at the sight of you. “A welcoming feast for the Sullys,” she told you, her smile huge and meaningful.

Years ago, before the world broke apart for you, Neteyam used to practically live in this corner of Hometree, constantly bothering and begging Marla to bake your favorite wild-berry pie when he was still courting you. You and Neteyam had been a constant fixture in her kitchen, teasing her and stealing scraps until she chased you out with a wooden ladle.

Because of that closeness, Marla was likely the only soul in the entire village who truly knew the timeline, the only one who suspected that Neteyam was the father of your boy.

​But she had never whispered a single word to anyone. She had kept your secret fiercely, protecting you from the brunt of the clan's judgment when you were only nineteen and terrified.

​As the other cooks distracted themselves with the massive platters of meat, Marla stepped up to you. “Are you alright?” she reached out, her calloused hands that had spent a lifetime feeding the Omatikaya gently squeezing yours.

You smiled, playfully scowling at her. “Of course, Marla,” you said.

She sighed. “He is back. I saw him,” she said in a small voice.

You shook your head. “It means nothing to me anymore, Marla,” you assured her, chuckling. “I am a mother now and my son is the only thing I care about. Which is the reason I’m here... I’m getting his breakfast. And mine...” you bit your lip.

The older woman’s eyes narrowed. “Not joining the communal meals like last night?”

You pushed your lips forward. “I’m busy... at the pavillion,” you said.

“Hm,” she mused, pulling away to get a heavy wooden tray, arranging a generous portion of food and right in the center, putting two large, perfectly baked slices of the very same berry pie, your son Ervo’s absolute favorite. “There is a feast tonight, but I’ll have your food delivered for lunch and dinner, too. Keep that boy of yours fed.” she murmured softly, giving you a knowing, gentle nod.

You smiled and nodded, swallowing a lump on your throat. “Thank you, Marla... For always helping me.”

She huffed a snort through her nose. “I watched you grow up, watched you brave what none could have survived. It is the least I can do.”

With the heavy wooden tray carefully balanced in your arms, you made your way back through the quieter upper branches of Hometree. When you stepped back into the cool shade of the healing pavilion, the tension in your shoulders finally began to bleed away.

Ervo was exactly where you left him, sitting cross-legged on a large woven mat. He was completely absorbed in his own world, flying his little reed Toruk toy over a pile of smooth river stones he had arranged to look like mountains.

Ervo’s ears perked up instantly as soon as you laid the tray down, his eyes widening as he spotted the two large, vibrant slices of wild-berry pie on the dish. He gasped, dropping his toy immediately, his tail giving a happy, rhythmic thwap against the woven floor. “Pie!”

“Pie after your meat and roots,” you corrected gently, tapping the tip of his nose with a smile.

You sat down cross-legged in front of him, carefully cutting up the roasted meat into small, manageable pieces. He ate eagerly, his small hands grasping the wooden bowl, his cheeks puffing out as he munched. But midway through the meal, a chorus of small voices echoed from the pavilion's entrance.

Three young children peeked inside, laughing and holding small woven balls. “Ervo? Come play! We are finding the big beetles today!”

Ervo practically vibrated in excitement. He nearly choked on his fruit, his little tail tapping the floor in a frantic, desperate rhythm. He began to scramble to his feet, ready to bolt toward his friends.

“Son, you can’t play after you’ve just eaten,” you said, your voice firm but gentle as you caught him by his waist. “You need to let your food settle in your belly.” You playfully tapped his round, full belly, and he let out a bright, tickled chuckle.

He slumped back down onto your lap, pouting slightly as his friends waved and promised to wait for him near the lower roots. He held his small waterskin with both of his little hands, taking a big gulp. “I need to stay?” he asked, blinking up at you with wide, pleading golden eyes.

You nodded, taking the spoon to feed him a bite of the sweet berry pie. “Yes. You must stay until Mama says it is time.”

“Okay...” he mumbled, pointing at the pie. “Pie?“

You chuckled and hugged him, kissing his cheek. “And because you are a sweet and remarkably obedient boy, here you are...” you took the plate and fed him.

He sat patiently, swinging his legs and chattering to you about the giant beetles his friends had promised to find. When enough time had finally passed, you wiped his sticky face with a damp cloth, kissed his forehead, and sent him off. He spent almost the entire day running wild under the massive canopy, his distant, joyful laughter occasionally drifting up to the pavilion.

By midday, the heat of the forest had settled into a heavy, hummed stillness. You were deep in your work, sorting dried herbs and organizing small clay vials of medicine, when the heavy beaded curtain at the entrance rustled.

You looked up, your posture instantly straightening as Mo’at stepped into the pavilion.

The Tsahik moved with a timeless, regal grace, her sharp eyes sweeping over the quiet room before finally landing on you. Mo’at was one of the few people who had fiercely shielded you from the clan’s harsh judgments three years ago. When the council of elders had deemed your situation immoral. Mo’at had silenced them all. She had ignored their protests, stubborn and unyielding, and had chosen you to be her tsakarem.

For some reason, she had always acted as though your situation was entirely normal. She had never once asked you who the father was, nor had she ever looked at you with anything less than absolute pride.

“You are working hard,” Mo’at spoke, walking over to your table, her long fingers brushing over the herbs you had just sorted.

“There is much to prepare for the returning warriors, Tsahik,” you replied, dipping your head. “Many have old wounds from the sea that need checking.”

Mo’at hummed. “The forest is changing,” she said. “The wind brings back what was once thought lost to the tide. Some trees bend in the storm, and some roots hold fast, hidden deep beneath the ground where no one can see them.”

You looked up at her, a sudden apprehension in your eyes. Your hands slowed over the mortar. “The clan is rejoicing their return. It is a good change.”

Her eyes, clouded with age, locked onto yours. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched her lips, “The Great Mother does not weave a thread without purpose, child,” Mo'at murmured. “A seed planted in secrecy still bears the unmistakable fruit of the tree it came from. The eyes of the clan may be blind to the truth, but blood always recognizes the stride of her own blood.”

Your breath hitched toward completely, your heart hammering violently against your ribs, a cold sweat breaking out across your palms.

“The boy is strong,” Mo'at continued softly, her hand reaching for yours to squeeze it with an immense, grounding warmth before she began to turn away. “He has your fierce spirit, but do not hide in the shadows forever, Tsakarem.”

You were profoundly grateful that Ervo had spent the entire afternoon running wild with the other children that by the time the distant sounds of the feast began to echo through the branches, he bounded into the healing pavilion, his little eyelids already heavy, entirely spent from the day's excitement.

“Ma…” he mumbled, dragging his feet as he leaned his small, warm body heavily against a soft woven pillow on the floor. “The big feast has started.”

You smiled, caressing his small head and his eyes fluttered shut.

“The big feast… Toruk Makto…”

He didn't even finish his sentence before his breathing deepened into a profound, undisturbed sleep. You quietly let out a breath, fixing everything to finally wrap the day up. Gently, you scooped his small, solid form into your arms, cradling his head against your shoulder as you carried him up to your kelku. You silently thanked Eywa that his exhaustion spared you from making up elaborate excuses for why you can’t attend the feast and you also wouldn't have to explain to a heartbroken two-year-old why he couldn't go see his legendary hero tonight.

Meanwhile, at the high dais, Neteyam sat rigidly to the right of his father. His family was seated with Tarsem who is at the center of the table, wearing the heavy, ornate mantle of the Olo'eyktan. Jake and Tarsem were deep in low, serious conversation about the integration of the returning warriors, but Neteyam’s attention was entirely fractured. His golden eyes restlessly combed through the crowded rows of tables, scanning every face, every laughing group, every shadow cast by the great fire.

He saw childhood friends, old sparring partners, and familiar faces of the Omatikaya. But none of them held the features that had been branded onto the back of his eyelids for three agonizing years. Every time he had closed his eyes, he sees you. When everybody thought he was going to die, it was your memory that got him crawling back to life. It was your face that kept his heart beating.

He had spent the entire day fighting the desperate urge to walk straight into the healing pavillion, refusing to ambush you considering how he left things between you two. He was hoping against hope. He had hurt you, and he wouldn’t be surprised if you would welcome him with anger or indifference, but he can work against that.

He would beg and work for your forgiveness.

Now, as the feast drew to a close without a single glimpse of you, a hollow disappointment settled deep in his chest. He thought about finally going to the healing pavilion tomorrow. To talk to you and tell you that he survived the last three years on your memories. That he lived because he wanted to get back to you.

The following morning, however, the clan's future demanded attention. The council convened in the high longhouse, the atmosphere dense and formal.

Tarsem stood before the elders, his posture proud but his shoulders carrying a visible, heavy weariness. He unclasped the ceremonial ornaments from his chest, placing them on the woven mat before Jake and Mo'at.

“The war has kept me from my family for far too long,” Tarsem announced, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. “My mate and my child have sacrificed enough. With Toruk Makto returning, I wish to step down from the leadership to focus entirely on my family. I am formally asking Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk’itan to succeed me as Olo'eyktan.”

Neteyam stared at the older warrior, the air in his lungs has long turned to ice. He had no idea Tarsem was even mated. He looked at the weary, determined lines on the leader's face, and then the realization hit him like a physical blow. You were the official tsakarem of the clan. The future Tsahik. Traditionally, the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahik walked hand-in-hand, their paths intertwined to lead the people.

But the Olo’eyktan could also mate the tsakarem who has not yet succeeded the Tsahik.

If Tarsem was stepping down to be with his family... A sickening, hollow sensation opened up in Neteyam's stomach. It felt as though a direhorse had kicked him squarely in the sternum. He could barely register the rest of the council's murmurs.

The thought of you mated to another man, the thought of you bearing Tarsem's child, giving someone else the love he had so brutally discarded, made him feel utterly empty. He managed to offer a strained, tight nod to the council, muttering that he would take time to consider the immense responsibility, before abruptly excusing himself.

His feet moved without his permission, operating on pure, desperate instinct until he found himself near the clearing just outside the healing pavilion.

And there you were.

You were only a few paces away, navigating the path with a hurried grace, balancing a small wooden drying rack stacked with freshly gathered herbs against your hip. Neteyam stopped dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. You had grown even more beautiful, your expression guarded and fiercely mature. Yet, you were entirely unchanged.

His heart kicked against his chest, his whole body charging with a sudden, violent spark of electricity, as though for the first time in years, his heart remembered how to work. A recognition that his soul belonged exactly where you stood.

Then, his gaze flicked down. A small boy was tailing closely behind you, his little feet skipping to keep up with your brisk pace.

Neteyam’s heart plummeted into a dark, bottomless abyss.

“Mama, look!” the boy chirped. The high-pitched, innocent voice sent an unexplainable, agonizing warmth straight through Neteyam’s chest.

Mama.

The reality solidified, crushing him. You were a mother. You belonged to Tarsem. Neteyam watched from the shadows as you stopped your hurried pace, bending down to see whatever the little boy was pointing at on the forest floor.

“Glowing bug!” the boy shouted, his entire little body vibrating with pure, unadulterated excitement.

A soft, melodic chuckle escaped your lips. To Neteyam, it sounded like the distant, beautiful chiming of bells, a sound he had been starving to hear. His chest ached as you reached out, gently ruffling the boy’s dark hair.

“Yes, my love,” you told the child, your voice softening into a gentle warmth you still possessed. “Do not touch it. It is irritable during daylight.”

The boy tilted his head, his wide golden eyes blinking up at you. “Because it can't glow?”

A genuine laugh broke from your chest this time, bright and clear.

Hidden behind the foliage, Neteyam found a faint, involuntary chuckle slipping past his own lips. The question was so innocent, so entirely pure. The boy shared your exact expressions, the same inquisitive tilt of the head. He was beautiful. He was everything Neteyam had ever dreamed of having with you during those quiet nights before the war took everything away.

He watched you hold the boy’s hand, your fingers laced securely with his small ones as you guided him into the healing pavillion. The beaded curtain fell shut behind you, cutting off his view, but the image remained scorched into his mind.

It was confirmed. You were mated to Tarsem, and you two have a child together.

Grief and jealousy seized Neteyam’s heart, squeezing it until he could barely breathe. Tarsem had everything he had ever wanted, everything he had dreamed of during those freezing nights by the ocean. Everything he had bled and fought for over the last three years was now in the hands of another man. Neteyam had never moved on from you, but he understood that you did. After all, he had hurt you. He had sliced your heart open right before he left, and he couldn't blame you if you did what he had wanted you to do and did everything in your power to erase him from your mind.

For weeks, you thought you had managed to completely avoid him, using the labyrinth of Hometree in your favor to avoid crossing paths with him. What you didn’t know, though, was that Neteyam spends at least an hour a day watching your son play with his little friends whenever he’s at the training grounds.

And come nights, he would stand where he stood on the day he saw you for the first time in years. He felt absolutely immoral for coveting a brother’s wife, but he would stand here to willingly welcome the Great Mother’s wrath should she find it righteous to strike him down, but he couldn’t keep himself away from you. And your child, for that matter.

He had successfully assimilated back into the warrior ranks, his name wildly popular among the younger hunters and the children, even to your little boy, who often overheard the older kids whispering about the mighty son of Toruk Makto.

One afternoon, Neteyam was standing near the edge of the clearing by the warrior paths, leaning lightly against a massive root as he watched your son and his friends loudly play a game a few yards away. Suddenly, a stray kick sent their small, tightly woven ball flying wildly off course. It tumbled across some ground roots, rolling over the moss before finally bumping directly against Neteyam’s foot.

He blinked, looking down before he bent to scoop up the lightweight toy.

A moment later, the sound of tiny, rapid footsteps approached. Ervo came bounding over to retrieve it, but he skidded to a sharp halt when he looked up and realized exactly who was holding his toy.

The little boy froze, his round, deeply familiar eyes wide. Slowly, Ervo brought his small hand up to his mouth, nervously nibbling on his thumb as he peered up at the towering warrior. A wave of natural apprehension and deep shyness washed over his little face, his ears twitching back slightly as he evaluated the large, chiseled stranger.

Neteyam looked down at the boy, feeling his chest suddenly expand with an unexplainable, fierce warmth the moment their eyes met. Up close, the resemblance was almost dizzying, but somehow, the boy looked strangely familiar but not you familiar... But Tuk familiar.

He softened his posture completely, making himself look as unthreatening as possible. Feeling the gentle shift in the his energy, Ervo smiled just a little bit, still nibbling on his thumb.

The tiny grin was Neteyam's undoing, he suddenly felt too weak. The boy was too cute. His own lips, usually set in a serious line these days, threatened to break into a massive smile for the boy.

“This yours?” Neteyam asked, his deep voice dropping to a soft, rumbling purr as he showed the ball in his open palm.

The boy nodded quickly, his courage returning. “My ball...”

Neteyam lowered himself onto his hunches, his long legs folding smoothly so he could level his eyes with the boy. He didn't want to tower over him like a scary monster.

“What’s your name?” Neteyam asked gently.

“Ervo,” the boy said in a small but clear voice. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking into Neteyam’s eyes. Then, with a sudden flash of bravery, he tilted his head. “You?” he asked courageously, treating Neteyam less like a formidable warrior and more like an age peer he simply wanted to be friends with.

Neteyam’s golden eyes lit up instantly. A genuine, breathy laugh escaped him, and a huge smile cut through his lips, transforming his hardened features. It made the boy smile, feeling a little more comfortable.

“Neteyam,” he said.

“‘Teyam...” Ervo echoed, trying out the syllables, his voice small and endearing. He pointed a small finger at the toy. “My ball?”

“Here,” Neteyam murmured, carefully placing the woven sphere back into Ervo's tiny, waiting hands.

“Thank you...” Ervo said politely. He turned on his heel to head back to the game, but after a few paces, he stopped. He looked back at Neteyam one last time, offering a bright, lingering smile before running off to rejoin his friends.

Neteyam remained on his haunches for a long time, watching the boy's retreating form, his hand still feeling the faint, lingering warmth of where the boy's fingers had brushed his own.

You have no idea about all of these. Apparently, more interesting things happen to your son daily that literally coming face-to-face with Neteyam is just one of the ordinary moments. He told you more about the beetles he observed with his friends more than the prior fact. So, you remained blissfully unaware, thinking that you were successfully living a life where your path has never cross with Neteyam.

You had spent three years scrubbing his face from your memories, teaching your heart to go numb at the mere thought of him. You convinced yourself that if you ever came face-to-face with him, you wouldn't feel a damn thing.

Then, one afternoon, the universe finally caught up to you

You left the pavillion to get Ervo for lunch, catching him sitting in a patch of dappled sunlight in their playground, completely absorbed in watching a line of colorful bugs march across a fallen log. His back was turned to the pathway. You smiled as you rounded a corner, but then your breath trapped itself in your throat.

You saw Neteyam approaching.

He was walking toward your son, his head tilted to the side with a small smile plastered on his face. He looked intensely curious about what Ervo was doing, drawn to the boy by some invisible force.

Panic, sharp and blinding, pierced your chest.

“Ervo,” you called out to your son, causing the boy to lift his head up.

Neteyam stopped dead in his tracks, his own head snapping up at the same time your son did that it looked almost comical. His golden eyes locked onto yours for the first time in three years. And you, who did the stupid thing of forgetting, was not prepared for all the changes at all that your heart jumped to your throat.

He had grown impossibly taller, his frame wider and heavily muscled from years of brutal warfare. His jawline was more chiseled, his handsome face bearing the subtle, hardened maturity of a man who had long outgrown the twenty-one-year-old who had left you behind.

“Mama?”

Your eyes immediately darted back to your son, fortunately taking your focus away from Neteyam. Ervo scrambled to his feet, leaving his bugs behind. “It’s time for lunch and you didn’t come back to the pavilion,” you said in a very motherly voice that reminded Neteyam of how Neytiri sometimes uses her Mom voice.

Ervo laughed and ran toward you, his little body crashing against your thigh. “I saw bugs!”

You bent, lifting him into your embrace and rubbing his back. You held him like a shield, your posture rigid and defensive as you lifted your sharp, icy glare on the man before you.

Neteyam was standing frozen, watching you hold the child, and the fierce, battle-hardened warrior seemed to dissolve. Every hard edge of his chiseled face turned incredibly soft and gentle. His ears drooped slightly, and his eyes swam with something profound and unspeakable. The coldness with which he treated and looked at you three years was gone, replace with the desperation of a man who was drowning.

“Y/N—” he breathed, his voice low and carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid apologies.

You didn't let him start anything, though. Clutching Ervo tighter against your chest, you turned your back on him, refusing to let him speak another syllable. You walked briskly back into the safety of the healing pavilion, your heart racing violently against your ribs.

That night, the cold wind offered no relief from the heat building inside Neteyam's mind. Deep in sleep, he got dragged backward by a subconscious that refused to let him forget the taste of you. In his dream, he was back in the hidden cave deep in the woods.

The air was thick with the scent of moss, rain, and the intoxicating, sweet musk of your skin. He was buried inside you, his knees spreading your thighs wide as he pounded into you relentlessly. It was a searing, glorious ache. His large hands came up to frame your jaw, fingers digging into your braids to anchor you as he leaned down, kissing you hard, bruisingly deep, drinking in your frantic gasps.

The cave was alive with the raw, animalistic sound of your bodies. The wet, sliding heat, your breathless cries, and his own low groans vibrating against your chest.

You threw your head back, the muscles of your throat straining as you clutched at his broad back, your fingernails digging tracks into his skin. Your moans were hoarse now, stripped raw after the breathless screams he had driven out of you.

“Neteyam...” you cried out, your hips arching up to meet his punishing, deep thrusts, begging for the release that was coiling tight between you.

He leaned down, catching your slick, parted mouth in another heavy kiss, breathing your name back into your lungs. “Oh, baby...” he choked, his chest heaving as he reached up to tenderly stroke the sheen of sweat off your forehead, his thumb tracing your cheek even as his lower body maintained its relentless, demanding pace.

You cried out again, a desperate sound of pure pleasure, pulling him down by his neck with a fierce strength that demanded all of him... And then Neteyam jolted awake with a violent gasp, nearly losing his balance and falling off his hammock.

He sat up abruptly, chasing his breath as if he had just run a marathon, his skin slick with sweat. He squeezed his eyes shut, bringing his hand up to roughly massage the bridge of his nose. He fought the overwhelming, agonizing urge to let out a loud, frustrated groan, catching himself just in time to ensure he wouldn't wake his family.

Breathing heavily through his nose, his hand slid down his torso, grabbing his crotch. His cock was punishingly hard, straining painfully against his loincloth, throbbing with the memory of you. He squeezed himself tightly through the fabric, trying to ease the agonizing ache, but the phantom sensation of your tight, wet heat wrapping around him was too vivid, too real. Like the many other dreams in the sea.

He knew it was wrong. He was literally committing a sin, lusting over a woman mated to another man. For Eywa's sake, he was a warrior, a future leader, and he was losing his mind over you, like he had when he was a boy. Yes, memories of you had been the only thing that got him through the lonely, brutal years of the war, keeping his relationship with his own hand extremely intimate during long nights on the battlefield, but it is wrong now.

Yet, as he sat there in the dark, his pulse hammering in his ears, it didn't truly feel like a mistake.

It was just that... you were so much more beautiful up close than any fleeting glimpse he had caught of you over the past weeks. He had looked into your eyes, smelled your scent, seen the fierce, maternal beauty radiating from you, and now his body was paying the price for that proximity.

Unable to bear the suffocating confinement of the hammock any longer, Neteyam quietly swung his long legs over the edge. He stood up noiselessly, his tail twitching with restless tension as he slipped out into the cool night air, knowing he would have to find a secluded spot in the forest to take care of his hard-on before the madness consumed him entirely.

Days after that, while you were at the pavilion and your son was having his afternoon nap in his cot beside you, the heavy beaded curtain at the entrance rustled, making you look up nonchalantly, expecting an apprentice or a hunter.

But your face instantly hardened when you saw Neteyam standing in the entryway. You stopped mid-motion, your hand freezing over the mortar where you were grinding a fresh poultice.

“I got... cut,“ he mumbled, his voice low and tentative.

You raised a brow, your jaw clenching as you looked him up and down. You didn't want him here, but as the tsakarem, you couldn't turn away someone seeking care. “Let me see,” you said coldly, jerking your head toward the seat in front of you.

He walked over and sat down, but as he did, you saw his golden eyes immediately glance toward the side, curiously tracking the small, sleeping form of your son in the cot. Your chest tightened. You purposefully extended your hand, reaching for a tall stack of drying leaves and shifting a woven basket to deliberately block his view of the boy.

When he finally held out his hand, you inspected the injury. The cut wasn’t deep enough to need stitches, but it definitely required a proper disinfectant, the kind of minor scratch he could have easily treated on his own with some river water and basic sap. Both of you knew he had come here just to see you.

In fact, Neteyam prepared for days just to be able to do this.

You took his hand impersonally, your grip firm and strictly professional. Despite your coldness, Neteyam bit his lower lip, completely distracted by the sudden, overwhelming sensation of your soft hands touching his skin for the first time in three long years. A jolt of pure electricity ran up his arm, but he stayed still as you worked on the wound in absolute silence.

The quiet in the pavilion grew heavy, suffocating him. He couldn't take it anymore.

“You’ve... made a good life for yourself,” he began softly, his eyes fixed on your lowered face as you carefully applied a cool, crushed herb paste to the cut.

You completely ignored him, your expression blank as you reached for a clean strip of woven cloth.

“You have a beautiful boy...” he added after the silence stretched, his voice thick with a strange emotion.

You stopped. Your hands went completely still on his wrist, and you slowly lifted your head to look up at him, your sharp eyes piercing straight through his chest.

“Can we keep the silence?” you asked, your voice a flat, dangerous whisper. “My son’s a light sleeper.”

Neteyam blinked, the rejection hitting him like a physical blow. He immediately nodded, his ears drooping slightly as he looked back down at your hands wrapping the cloth around his palm. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

His chest tightened until it felt like a vice was crushing his lungs. Sitting this close to you, he wanted to say so much more. He wanted to scream the truth. He wanted to throw himself at your feet, to kneel on the floor and apologize until his voice gave out for the horrible lies he had told you before he left. He wanted nothing more than to pull you into his arms, to press his face into your neck and tell you how much he loves you. That he had never stopped loving you for a single second. His heart, his body, and his soul had never known another woman, and they never would.

Even now that you are mated.

But as he watched you expertly tie off the bandage with detached efficiency, reality crashed over him.

He knew it would be wrong to even try to be friends with you now. You were a mated woman. You were a mother. He had absolutely no place in your life anymore, and he had no right to disturb the peace you had built. Every time he remembered that fact, it felt like his insides were being violently wrung out. It was a constant, living nightmare, made worse by the fact that seeing Tarsem around the village brought the agonizing jealousy back to the surface every single day.

He was so deeply envious of Tarsem. It should have been him. He was supposed to be your mate. He was supposed to be the father of your beautiful child, coming home to you after a long hunt. But he had sacrificed all of it for a war he wasn't even sure he'd survive.

I hope it's fucking worth it, he thought bitterly to himself later that night.

He lay completely awake in his hammock, staring up at the dark canopy of Hometree, unable to sleep as the image of your little boy filled his mind. The child was so small, so incredibly fragile, but Neteyam knew without a doubt that the little boy held your entire heart. A soft, involuntary warmth bloomed in his chest at the thought of him. Ervo.  Remembering how peaceful the boy looked while having his nap, a faint smile touched Neteyam's lips in the dark.

You could have been mine, he thought with a heavy, suffocating grief settling over him like a boulder as he closed his eyes.

As he drifted to sleep, the weight of his emotions faded into a blinding, golden warmth.

In the dream, the sky above was a brilliant, cloudless blue, and the heat of the sun baked into his skin. He wasn't a warrior burdened by the future of a clan; he was just a boy, resting his head comfortably in your lap as the water lapped gently against the riverbank.

This was the sanctuary his mind always built for him.

It was the exact same dream that had saved his life on the blood-soaked sea. When the bullet had torn through his chest, when his breathing had rattled and his pulse had slowed to a terrifying flutter, his family had been screaming. The healers had been desperately pressing against his wound, fighting the tide of his fading life. But in his mind, he had felt no fear.

In his mind, he had only felt you.

You leaned down over him, your dark hair catching the light of the sun, casting a soft shadow over his face. Your expression wasn't cold or defensive like it was these days, it was full of that fierce, consuming love that used to belong entirely to him. Gently, you cupped his face with both of your hands, your thumbs tracing the sharp line of his jaw before you leaned down to kiss his lips softly.

Even in the depths of his sleep, the phantom sweetness of your touch made his lips curve into a faint, relaxed smile.

You pulled back just an inch, a soft, melodic chuckle vibrating in your chest at the sight of his grin. You ran a hand through his braids, your voice a gentle purr that seemed to echo from the very heart of the forest.

“‘Teyam... wake up,” you whispered, your fingers brushing against his temple. “Wake up.”

Neteyam’s eyes snapped open.

The golden river and the warmth of the sun vanished instantly, shattered by the dark, cool reality of the woven ceiling above his hammock. He sat up abruptly, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. His hand flew instinctively to his chest, his large fingers pressing hard against the thick, raised scar tissue right over his chest that he could conveniently cover with his chest knife sheath.

Your kelku were branches away, and you were wrapped in the arms of another man, but his lips still tingled with the memory of the dream.

He slid his hands over his face, letting out a long, ragged breath into the empty darkness of his quarters. Dreams of you always visited him whenever he slept with a heavy heart. It was a cruel mercy, a replaying loop of a life he had thrown away. Yet, as he stared out into the quiet shadows of Hometree, he knew those dreams were the only reason he was still breathing.

It was his mind’s instinctive way of giving him a reason to hold on, a desperate, stubborn tether keeping his soul anchored to the earth, simply because he couldn't bear to leave a world where you still existed. He prepared for the morning patrol, going about it as enthusiastically as he could, and when he got back, he was told that the high council wpuld convene once more in the longhouse.

The elders sat in a wide semicircle, their faces solemn, while Tarsem stood at the center. Neteyam took his place near his father, his eyes fixed firmly on the table, refusing to look at Tarsem so he wouldn’t and couldn’t picture out what-could-have-beens.

Tarsem cleared his throat, his deep voice commanding the room's attention. “Elders, Toruk Makto, Tsahik,” he began, bowing his head respectfully to each. “We have spent over a moon organizing the integration of our returning warriors, ensuring our borders are secure. The Omatikaya are strong. But as I stated before, the war has kept me from my duties at home for far too long. I must officially request to step down from my duties as Olo’eyktan so that I may leave and focus entirely on making up for lost time with my mate and child.”

Neteyam’s jaw clenched so hard he thought he’d break his teeth. Hearing it out loud again felt like a fresh blade twisting in his ribs. His mate. His child. He closed his eyes, forcing down the violent surge of envy that threatened to choke him.

One of the elders, an old weaver named Okan, nodded slowly, his fingers tracing the edge of his staff. “The council understands, Tarsem. A leader’s heart must be whole to lead, and yours has been divided by the sea for many moons. You have done well by our people. I wholeheartedly support your decision, and should the council follow suit, you could fly to your family as soon as we grant your request.”

Neteyam’s ears twitched, snapping backward. Fly?

He blinked, his mind faltering as the word echoed in the quiet longhouse. He raised his head, staring at Tarsem in utter confusion. “Fly?” Neteyam interrupted, his voice cracking slightly before he hardened it. “Olo'eyktan... your mate and child are here. In Hometree.”

The entire council went completely still.

The elders blinked at him. Jake shifted in his seat, a furrow forming between his brows. Even Mo’at slowly lifted her sharp, clouded gaze, her expression unreadable as she stared at her grandson.

Tarsem turned around slowly, looking at Neteyam as if the young warrior had been struck by a stray arrow to the head. “What are you talking about, Neteyam?” Tarsem asked, a small, baffled frown crossing his features. “My mate and daughter are with her clan, the Tayrangi. They have been waiting for my return by the Eastern cliffs since the sky people's vanguard fell.”

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face. The air in his lungs turned to pure frost. He sat frozen, his fingers digging into his knees.

“Who...?” Neteyam choked out, his throat working desperately to find words. “Then... Y/N? You are not... mated to Y/N?”

Tarsem let out a sudden, startled chuckle, shaking his head. “No. Y/N is not my mate. Why would you think that?”

Neteyam’s heart leaped violently into his throat, hitting his ribs with a force that made his breath hitch. A weakened, shuddering gasp escaped his lips. He felt so suddenly lightheaded he would have fallen right onto his face if he weren't already sitting. She isn't his. She isn't mated to anyone. “But... she is the Tsakarem,” he stammered, his mind racing, trying to piece together the shattered remnants of his assumptions.

“And she will make a fine Tsahik one day,” Tarsem countered gently, his eyes softening with amusement. “But that won’t be enough reason to make Y/N mate with anyone. She is a strong woman, Neteyam. She answers to no man's timeline.”

“She... she is unmated?” Neteyam asked again, his voice dropping to a desperate, trembling whisper, completely exposed before the entire council. He didn't care. He needed to hear it. He needed the world to stop spinning.

Elder Okan sighed, his voice carrying the familiar, slightly judgmental tone of the older generation. “She did get pregnant sometime three years ago, yes. But she refused to name the father. No one in the village knows.”

“Because it is unimportant,” Mo’at’s sharp, commanding voice cut through the longhouse like a whip, silencing the elder immediately. She leaned forward, her knowing, amber eyes locking directly onto Neteyam’s pale, trembling form. Her gaze was heavy, loaded with the exact same truth she had leveled at you the day before. “Y/N can raise Ervo all on her own. She is a strong woman, as Tarsem said. She needs no unnamed ghost to claim what is hers.”

“Indeed, Tsahik,” Tarsem agreed, bowing his head.

Got pregnant sometime three years ago...

The words rang in Neteyam’s ears, expanding into a deafening sound that drowned out the rest of the council meeting. Three years ago.

Ervo.

The boy’s small, chubby face flashed in his mind. The round, golden eyes. The shy, familiar little smile that reminded him of Tuk. The way his ears twitched. The strange, unexplainable warmth that had flooded Neteyam's entire chest when their eyes met and when he saw the little boy’s smile. He had thought of his strange resemblance to Tuk, but truly, it had been a resemblance to him.

The boy was his.

Tarsem’s voice brought him back. “Neteyam, as I was saying—”

“What is needed?“ he cut him off.

Tarsem’s lips parted, his eyes volleying in confusion. “That you consider accepting my request to—”

“I accept anything,” he said in a firm voice. Heck, after today, he could build a freaking Hometree using sand.

“Are you sure?” Jake asked, turning to him with furrowed brows.

Neytiri also looked at him with concern. “Son, this is a matter of great consequence. You need to plenty of time to think.”

“Plenty of time is not something we have the luxury of right now. Tarsem needs to be with his family,” he said. And I need to be with my own, he thought.

His parents nodded. As soon as the council wrapped the meeting up, he practically threw himself out of the council longhouse, his long legs eating up the woven pathways as he sprinted toward the upper branches.

He burst into the healing pavilion, his chest heaving, his heart hammering against his ribs. But the pavilion was empty. The small cot where Ervo usually napped was neatly folded, and the mortar and pestle sat clean on the wooden table. A young healer’s apprentice, a girl of fourteen, jumped in startle at his sudden, towering entrance.

“Where is she?” Neteyam demanded, his voice rough and laced with an urgency that terrified the girl. “Where is the Tsakarem?”

“S-she went out,” the girl stammered, pointing a trembling finger toward the lower pathways. “To gather herbs—”

Neteyam didn't let her finish, he turned on his heel and descended the winding ramps frantically. When he finally reached the ground and ran to the dense brush, he immediately saw you.

The afternoon sun was filtering through the canopy, casting long, golden beams of light on you as you walked slowly, your hands reaching down to pluck a root or a leaf.

And right behind you, tailing you with his little feet skipping over the moss, was Ervo. The boy’s cheeks were completely full, puffing out comically as he happily munched on a handful of sweet berries from a leaf, clipped in his small arm is a small Toruk toy.

His boy.

The realization hit Neteyam in the gut with a force strong enough to almost make him fold, breaking the dam he had been building around his heart since he came back, to protect you from his own selfishness. The grief and the jealousy, it all melted away, replaced by a fierce, protective instinct so primal it made him tremble.

The snap of a twig under his large foot broke the silence of the clearing.

You stopped dead in your tracks, your shoulders immediately going rigid, your hand instantly moved to hover protectively over Ervo’s shoulder before you slowly turned around. The moment your eyes landed on Neteyam, your expression hardened into a deep, defensive scowl.

But Neteyam didn't look like the broken, submissive man who had mounded his head in apology in the pavillion days ago. He stood tall, his shoulders squared, his chiseled face bearing a look of absolute confidence. There was still the desperate, drowning look in his golden eyes, but there was also a burning, unyielding clarity.

“‘Teyam?” A small high-pitched voice called.

His gaze slid downward, tracking behind your hip where Ervo was now looking at him.

Your head snapped to your son, wondering at the familiarity in his voice. The little boy remained looking at Neteyam, his round eyes widened because he recognizes the tall stranger from the training grounds. He stopped chewing his berries, his tail giving a hesitant little flick.

“Hi,” Neteyam said, “Ervo.” His voice was incredibly small, a soft, rumbling purr that trembled on the edges as he tried with everything in him not to let it crack. He looked at his son’s small face, tracing the curve of his nose, the almost identical placement of his stripes.

He had been so stupid to believe otherwise. With the clarity he now possessed, he could clearly see that this boy looked more like him and nothing like Tarsem. He didn’t know how he could be so blind.

He blinked when you stepped forward, cutting off his view of the boy. You stood right in front of Neteyam, your head tilted up fiercely. Even though he towered over you, his massive frame casting a long shadow over your smaller one, you didn't show any worry. You looked at him like a mother palulukan defending her cub.

“We need to talk,” Neteyam said, his voice steady but thick with emotion.

You clenched your jaw, your fingers wrapping tightly around the handle of your basket. “I have nothing to say to you,” you told him, your voice cold and impersonal. “I am busy. Move out of my way.”

Neteyam didn't move an inch. He leaned down slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, his golden eyes burning with a truth that could no longer be hidden.

“He’s mine. Isn’t he?”

The question carried no doubt, no hesitation. He knew it in his heart. He knew it in the way his own soul had recognized the boy from the very first moment.

Your face crumpled, a sharp mix of pained exhaustion and deep-seated bitterness tightening your features. You let out a breath that was half-laugh, half-scoff, the shield you had built over the last three years cracking a little under the sheer absurdity of his sudden realization.

“Took you long enough,” you said, your voice dripping with sharp sarcasm. You tilted your head up, daring him to look you in the eyes. “Thought maybe he was fathered by any of the men I laid with after you left?”

His reaction was instantaneous, and you relished it. Neteyam’s jaw locked, his golden eyes narrowing into the sharp, dangerous slits of a furious predator. His ears pinned flat against his head, his chest rising and falling heavily. He looked terrifyingly possessive, a look that used to make your stomach flip, but now it only served as a cold reminder that he was no longer in possession of you. Or your son. In fact, he had absolutely nothing to do with either of you.

“No, I never did,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intense rumble, emphasizing every single syllable as he fought to keep his temper under wraps. “I thought you were mated to Tarsem. I just learned now that you were not, and the moment I learned, I knew right away that your boy is mine.”

“Tarsem?” you blurted out, a genuine, bewildered chuckle slipping past your lips. It was completely ridiculous. “Tarsem is practically an older brother to me.”

“Y-You are the tsakarem,” he stammered slightly, his fierce demeanor slipping into desperate defense. “In the council meeting, I learned he was mated, and that he had a child. Because he was the Olo’eyktan, surely he would be mated to the future Tsahik... and then I saw you... and Ervo.”

You huffed, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “And you didn't even think to ask Tarsem?”

“Ask him? I couldn't even look at him without feeling the urge to strangle him,” he admitted bluntly.

The two of you stood there like madmen, standing in a secluded patch of the forest, whispering heatedly to each other just to avoid alarming the little boy whose ears were currently perked up, trying to catch the heavy conversation.

“I suppose I should be thankful to Tarsem then,” you said, a mocking smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

Neteyam let out a breathy huff, but honestly, nothing could ruin his mood for the rest of his entire life. The crushing weight that had suffocated him for weeks had now vanished and it felt as if he were handed a brand new life. “And I suppose I deserved every bit of that suffering... I thought I had completely lost you—”

“You did,” you cut him off cleanly, your voice turning flat. “Ervo being yours means absolutely nothing for the both of us. If you want to be in his life, you can be. I won't keep him from you.”

Neteyam stared at you, watching your face lock into a firm, business-like expression. It was true that a part of him had foolishly hoped to win back both his son and the love of his life in one breath, but he could work with what you were offering.

For the time being.

After surviving the living hell of thinking you belonged to another man, absolutely nothing could stop him now. Before today, he had accepted that the brutal way he ended things between you had forced you to hate him, to bury his memory under a layer of cold indifference. But while you looked completely detached right now, Neteyam knew his own heart. He was going to come for you so strong, so steadily, that you wouldn't even realize he was doing it until he was fully woven back into your life like he had never left. He was going to pick up exactly where he left off. He was going to get you back.

Breaking the tense silence between you two, you took a deep breath and dropped down onto your haunches, leveling yourself with your son. “Ervo, you’ve met Neteyam before?”

Ervo nodded quickly, pointing a berry-stained finger. “He.. he gave my ball back.”

Neteyam smoothly lowered himself onto his haunches too, bringing his massive frame down to the dirt. Ervo looked at him with a classic mix of childhood shyness and courage. Then, the little boy turned his head to look at you.

“Toruk Makto’s son, Mama?” Ervo asked in a stage whisper, acting as if Neteyam wasn't even sitting right there, discussing him like a fascinating object.

“Yes, my love,” you said gently, tapping his small nose before glancing up at Neteyam. “He’s a big fan.”

A beautiful, breathless chuckle escaped Neteyam, his eyes twinkling with a sheen of tears. “Is that right?” he asked Ervo, carefully placing a large, trembling hand on the boy's small shoulder.

“Yes! I love Toruk!” Ervo beamed, proudly holding up his wooden Toruk toy for Neteyam to see.

“What do you say about coming to meet him later today?” Neteyam asked softly.

The boy's jaw dropped. “Toruk Makto?” he asked in pure wonder.

“Neteyam...” you warned, your eyes widening as you gave your gaze back to him.

Neteyam turned to you, his eyes swimming with unshed tears, but his expression was entirely sincere. “It’s my son’s simple joy, Y/N. I can make it happen for him...” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion.

“But... you’ll have to...” You trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward Hometree.

“Tell them?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“I want to tell them, Y/N. I want to tell the entire village, in fact,” he said, his gaze dropping back to the boy before looking at you. “But only if you’ll allow me.”

You bit your lower lip, looking at the raw vulnerability in his face. “Your family... is fine. The entire village... I think it will need time.”

Neteyam nodded firmly, accepting your terms instantly. He turned back to his son with a bright smile. “Yes, my boy. Toruk Makto. Do you want to go meet him?”

“Yes!” Ervo squealed with zero hesitation. Without warning, the little boy threw his entire body forward, launching himself against Neteyam’s broad chest and wrapping his chubby little arms tightly around the warrior’s neck.

The impact seemed to weaken Neteyam significantly. The sheer force of his son’s affection caused him to stagger back slightly, a soft gasp leaving his lips. Neteyam wrapped his long, muscular arms securely around the boy’s tiny frame, burying his face in Ervo’s hair as his tears finally spilled over, rolling down his chiseled cheeks.

Your own face crumpled in sharp pain at the sight. You quickly looked away, blinking back your own tears at how overwhelmingly emotional the moment was. For Neteyam, at least. Because right now, to your innocent son, Neteyam wasn't a long-lost father or a ghost from the past. He was simply a very kind, very cool guy who was going to bring him face-to-face with Toruk Makto.

You all walked back to Hometree together, the foliage parting easily as Neteyam carried Ervo all the way. The boy’s small, heavy weight rested securely against Neteyam’s chest, one of Ervo's sticky, berry-stained hands loosely gripping some of his braids. You walked half a pace behind them, keeping your eyes on the path but acutely aware of how naturally Neteyam’s large arm cradled your son’s frame.

You couldn’t help but notice how Neteyam could barely take his eyes away from the boy. Only looking at the path from time to time to make sure he’s still going the right path, but Ervo has his full attention. When you reached the lower levels of Hometree, you stopped him near a thick root. Several clan members were lingering nearby, not even trying to hide their intense curiosity, eyes darting from Neteyam to the child, and then to you.

“I will prepare him,” you told Neteyam, your voice clipped and entirely business-like as you reached out to take Ervo. “You could just meet us near your family's hut when it's time.”

Neteyam didn't hand the boy over immediately. Instead, he stepped way too close, his towering frame casting a shadow over you. He lowered Ervo gently to his feet, but kept a hand on the boy's shoulder, leaning down slightly so his face was level with yours. “I can help you prepare him,” he offered softly.

Too conscious of the clan’s eyes on you, you shook your head. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Sure? he murmured, his voice a smooth, infuriating purr.

“Yes,” you hissed, grabbing Ervo’s hand. You turned on your heel and marched away, thoroughly thrown off your game by his sudden, relentless proximity.

Neteyam stood alone on the root, but as he watched your retreating form, a soft smile spread across his lips. His heart soared even higher when Ervo suddenly looked back over your hip, flashing a bright grin and waving his small hand. Neteyam waved back, his chest bursting with a brand-new sense of purpose.

Later that evening, you and Ervo walked up the winding ramp toward the large Sully kelku. Neteyam was already on the outside platform, pacing restlessly on the wide branch leading to the entrance. When he saw you, his face lit up, and he quickly guided you both inside.

The rest of the Sully family was entirely clueless. They knew only that Neteyam had insisted on a private family dinner to introduce someone.

The moment you stepped inside after Neteyam, Kiri’s eyes went wide. “Y/N!” she greeted happily, rushing forward to throw her arms around you in a tight hug.

Little Tuk, who was now ten years old and growing fast, stepped closer, her curious gaze dropping instantly to the toddler holding your hand. Ervo, meanwhile, was completely unfazed by the girls. His wide golden eyes were locked onto Jake Sully, looking up at the legendary Toruk Makto with absolute, unadulterated wonder.

Meanwhile, Neytiri took one look at Ervo, at the inquisitive tilt of his head, the unmistakable slope of his nose, and her breath caught. She didn't need to piece anything together. Beside her, Jake was already grinning, recalling Neteyam’s uncharacteristic, panicked outburst at the council meeting about Tarsem and the tsakarem. The pieces fit together perfectly.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri called out, her voice trembling slightly with an emotional weight.

Neteyam took a deep breath, standing taller before he took Ervo cleanly into his arms, lifting the boy up so his family could see him properly. “Dad, Mother... This is Ervo. My son. Born to the woman I love.”

You turned Neteyam with wide eyes but his tearful eyes were entirely on Ervo. The kelku erupted with gasps. Your son, of course, was entirely clueless about the gravity of the moment, only thrilled that the legendary Jake Sully was looking at him like he was some kind of grand prize. Neytiri’s eyes filled with tears as she rushed forward, her hands hovering over Ervo’s face, murmuring about how much he looked like Neteyam as a toddler.

Then, she turned to you. Without a word, she took your hand, pulling you into a fierce, deeply emotional embrace. “Oh, Y/N,” she breathed. “You were all alone...“

Ervo, ever attentive and fiercely protective of you, instantly tracked the movement. Seeing his mother surrounded, his high-pitched voice cut through the loud chatter. “Mama?”

“I’m here, my love,” you smiled, gently pulling away from Neytiri so he could see you.

Reassured, Ervo smiled brightly. He turned back to Jake, excitedly thrusting his Toruk toy forward. His small tail curled tightly around Neteyam’s forearm in a subconscious gesture of comfort, making Neteyam let out a breathless chuckle as his tears rolled down his nose. Neteyam’s eyes found yours across the room. You gave him a very small, hesitant smile before turning back to talk with Neytiri.

The dinner itself was smooth and warm. At first, Ervo was a bit shy, the large family becoming slightly overwhelming for him. Once, he even wriggled in Neteyam's lap, his small hand reaching out toward you. “Mama...” he whined softly.

You leaned over, offering a reassuring smile as you caressed his rounded cheek. “Papa will feed you, baby...” you told him gently.

You looked at his tiny face properly. He was so small. For all the years of his existence, he had never had a father, and he had never asked about one, either. You were only fortunate that he was still too young to be truly curious about the missing piece of his life.

“Papa...” Ervo echoed, testing the word on his tongue.

You nodded, reaching out to gently tap Neteyam’s chest to emphasize the word. “Papa.”

But as your fingers brushed against his chest, your tap inadvertently shifted his leather knife sheath. The strap slid aside, and your eyes caught a glimpse of the faint, thick, raised scar tissue hidden underneath. Right over his heart.

Your eyes snapped up, locking onto Neteyam’s face. He was staring back at you, his eyes completely misty, entirely focused on the profound fact that you had just introduced him to his son as Papa. He hadn't even noticed that his sheath had moved, or that you had seen the mark of the bullet that had nearly taken his life. Your forehead creased in a brief, sudden moment of worry and realization, but before you could dwell on it, Ervo snagged your attention.

The boy jumped in Neteyam’s hold, a demanding grin breaking across his face as he looked up at his father. “Feed me!” he ordered cutely, wrapping one chubby arm securely around Neteyam’s neck.

A massive smile broke across Neteyam’s lips, but a soft, choked sob escaped him at the same time. He bowed his head, a single tear rolling down his pointed nose. Your face crumpled in a sharp pain at the sight. Your hand instinctively balled into a tight fist at your side, forcing yourself to restrain the sudden, overwhelming urge to reach out and comfort him.

Neteyam quickly wiped his face, recovering his composure to feed Ervo, who began eating happily while the rest of the family absolutely doted on him.

“It’s like seeing Neteyam as a toddler all over again,” Jake noted, his own food completely forgotten as he watched Ervo chew his food rapidly, his cheeks puffing out. In fact, everyone at the table was too busy watching the boy to eat. “The kid eats like a syaksyuk.”

Neytiri smiled warmly at you. “Y/N, your blood did not fight back at all,” she joked and you chuckled. She looked as though she wanted to ask a thousand questions about the last three years, but she wisely chose not to meddle between you and Neteyam.

“How old is he?” Tuk asked you shyly, leaning over the table to peek at Ervo.

You smiled at the girl before turning to your son. “Ervo, how old are you?”

Your son proudly held up two fingers. “This many,” he said grandly.

Neteyam chuckled, and the entire table burst into a loud laughter. Ervo smiled proudly, soaking up the attention.

“Oh, you are still a baby,” Tuk teased gently.

Ervo’s ears immediately pinned back as he scowled, shaking his head. “Not a baby!”

You pursed your lips, trying not to laugh as the family shared another collective chuckle over his little outburst. You reached over, pressing  a palm against Ervo’s chest to calm him while Neteyam instinctively began rubbing the boy's back in perfect synchronization. “Sorry, he’s in that stage...” you murmured.

Ervo quickly forgot his anger anyway, his eyes locking onto the sweetroot pie. He pointed a finger at Neteyam, asking his father for a piece. Neteyam chuckled and glanced at you for permission.

You nodded slightly. “Just a little. Too much sweets keep him up all night,” you whispered softly.

You immediately clamped your mouth shut when Ervo’s head swiveled toward you, his ears perking up at the word 'sweets'. Neteyam let out a quiet laugh, quickly distracting the boy by showing him the pie.

After dinner, the family moved outside to catch the cool evening air, stepping onto the wide woven platform that wrapped around the exterior of the kelku. Jake and Neytiri had asked to spend time with Ervo, and Jake was currently enticing the boy with wild, grand stories about Toruk. Ervo was completely captivated, though his golden eyes still occasionally flicked back to the edge of the platform to make sure you were still there.

“He is so protective of you,” Neteyam noted softly, stepping up to stand beside you.

You kept your gaze fixed on Ervo, who was currently talking to Jake like he was a grown warrior, wildly gesturing with his hands and adding his own imaginary details to Jake's Toruk stories. A soft, genuine smile touched your lips, and you rubbed your arms with your palms against the evening breeze.

“He is...” you replied quietly. “But it’s also because we are always together. For a little boy like he is, I am the whole world. Now... that world will be expanding for him.”

Neteyam looked down at you, his expression intensely wistful, the bioluminescent dots on his face glowing brighter, telling you of the intensity of his feelings. “I’m sorry about everything being so rushed... will it be a shock for him?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

“I don’t think so... he’s still very young, and I don’t think he truly understands the concept of what a father is yet,” you admitted, biting your lower lip. “I no longer have parents where he can see a normal family dynamic, and he hasn’t gotten to the age where he asks about his friends’ fathers. To him, you are just a new, wonderful person in his life.”

You heard him let out a heavy, shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Y/N...” he whispered, his voice cracking, dropping to a small, broken tone. “I am so fucking sorry I was not here with you. That I didn’t know when I should have known—”

“Because you were fighting a war to make sure he would have a safe world to live in, Neteyam,” you cut him off cleanly, turning your head to look at him. “And you couldn’t have known because I chose not to tell you. You have done nothing wrong to our boy, but you do have a lot to make up for.”

Tears pooled heavily in his golden eyes, reflecting the soft blue light of the forest. “But I have done you wrong. I hurt you, Y/N... I didn’t have to leave the way I did. I was so cruel—”

You shook your head slowly, letting out a soft sigh as you looked back out at your son’s laughing form. “Let’s leave the past behind us, Neteyam,” you cut him off again, your voice unyielding. “I am a mother now. The one thing it did to me is make me realize that all of my woes and heartaches before I became one don’t matter nearly as much as my son’s well-being.”

Neteyam stared at you, watching the solemn, fierce, and beautiful maturity of your face. He found his chest aching, completely melting for this version of you, too. The incredible, unbreakable woman that his son had made of you. You were stronger than any warrior he had ever fought alongside, stronger even than himself.

He loved you so deeply it terrified him. And as he watched you watch his son, Neteyam swore a silent vow to Eywa that he would stop at nothing to make you feel, believe, and trust in that love again.

The next day, you woke up with the familiar weight of your son’s small body missing from your side, not an unusual occurrence, as Ervo was a notoriously early riser, usually content to play quietly with his wooden toys near the entrance of the kelku.

But your attention was quickly snagged by the sound of the woven flap being opened wildly. Ervo came rushing back inside, his little feet pattering frantically over the mats. You sat up, seeing his face was flushed with pure, unadulterated excitement, his golden eyes wide as plate saucers.

“Mama! Mama, look!” he chirped, dragging you up. “Papa is sleeping outside!”

Your breath hitched. Papa. The word still felt entirely foreign. You pushed yourself up, your forehead creasing with confusion. Stepping out onto your kelku’s small, private platform, your jaw nearly went slack as you looked up.

There, suspended between two thick branches just a few steps away from outside your entrance, was a sturdy hammock. Hanging carelessly from a nearby knot in the wood were Neteyam’s massive longbow and a leather quiver full of arrows, swaying gently in the morning breeze. Neteyam himself was just waking up, his long, muscular frame shifting as he stretched, his tail lazily dropping over the edge of the woven fabric.

He looked down, his golden eyes instantly locking onto yours. The moment he saw your stern expression, he smoothly swung his legs out, dropping down onto the main branch. He looked a bit rumpled from sleep, but his posture was instantly alert, a soft, eager smile instantly forming on his lips when Ervo peeked out from behind your thigh.

“Neteyam, why are you sleeping out here?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

“I just thought it would be convenient,” he said, his deep voice carrying a gravelly, morning rasp. He rubbed the back of his neck. “If you need anything, I’m right here. If there is danger, I’ll be here to protect you both.”

Your lips parted, a frustrated, disbelieving breath escaping you. “There’s... there’s absolutely no need for this, Neteyam. Truly. We have lived here for years, and none of that danger has happened. And if we ever need—”

“Please,” he cut you off gently, stepping forward. The towering, confident warrior from the previous evening seemed to completely vanish, replaced by a man looking down at you with a gaze so heavy with repentance it made your chest ache. “I want to help you in any way I can. I want to be of use to you. Tell me anything you need done, and I will get it done. Anything you want, I will find it. I came back too late, Y/N. We should have been a team raising Ervo from the moment he was formed... but you were all alone in it.”

You could see the raw, agonizing struggle on his face. You know Neteyam. He was never one to just do things to force his way into your bed. And right now, he was literally begging for the dirty work. He was begging for the labor and the heavy lifting.

You remembered the promise you had made him the day before: you wouldn't keep Ervo from him. You looked down at your son, who was already staring up at Neteyam like he was an invincible giant, and you let out a long, defeated sigh.

“Fine,” you said, your voice entirely flat, masking the way your heart gave a traitorous thump against your ribs. “Ervo needs to wash, and he hasn't had breakfast yet. I need fresh fire-roots from the lower gatherers, and the water basin is completely empty.”

Neteyam’s eyes lit up instantly, a profound, breathless look of gratitude washing over his features as if you had just handed him a decree rather than a list of mundane chores. “I'm on it,” he said quickly, nodding with an intense, ironclad seriousness. “I’ll get the water first.”

Neteyam moved so fast you’d think he had a visible countdown ticking away right on his face. He practically flew down the branches of Hometree, returning in record time with heavy, sloshing containers of clean water to completely top off your large storage basins. Not stopping there, he immediately grabbed every single empty waterskin from its woven basket, jogging down to the river to fill them with cold water. He lined them up perfectly, wiped clean, as if he were preparing a high-ranking commander’s tent for inspection.

With the water sorted, he disappeared again, darting toward the communal kitchens to fetch breakfast.

Down at the bustling cooking fires, he came face-to-face with Marla for the first time in years. The older woman paused, a warm, knowing smile spreading across her wrinkled face as she looked at the young warrior. “What do you need, boy?” she asked, as if he never left and this was just a normal day where he comes to you food.

“A tray of food for Y/N and our boy,” Neteyam said, a small, nearly imperceptible smile tugging at his lips at the words our boy.

It felt like a normal day three years back, but this time, he was getting food for you and the child you two made.

Marla’s eyebrows raised in surprise, just a fraction, before she hummed softly. “And none for you?” she asked, her hands already deftly assembling a generous tray of fresh fruit, roasted fish, and steamed roots.

Neteyam shook his head quickly. He didn't think you’d particularly enjoy having his him hovering around the mat for breakfast just yet. He didn't want to push his luck.

As she wrapped the food in clean leaves, Marla looked at him gently. “How was the eastern sea like, boy?”

“Beautiful...” Neteyam murmured, his voice dipping into a wistful, quiet tone. “But I wasn’t really there for its beauty.”

The truth was, not only was the war cold and brutal, it had been a psychological prison for him. Every Na’vi was taught from birth to put their full trust in Eywa, to meet death without fear because all energy is borrowed... and one day, you’ll have to give it back. But Neteyam? Neteyam had feared death every single day. He had been terrified of dying, not out of cowardice, but because of the sheer agony of what he had left behind.

He had wanted to go home to you so badly. Sure, he had cut things off and hurt you deeply before leaving, foolishly convincing himself that making you hate him would be better than leaving you to mourn a dead mate if he never returned. But the moment the sky people's bullets started flying, all he wanted was to live. To survive, go home, and hold you in his arms again.

“I didn’t know how much I missed...” he voiced out softly.

Marla sighed, her expression softening with deep maternal sympathy. She reached out, patting his hand with a heavy, grounding comfort. “You were fighting a war, boy. To keep the sky people from ruining this world,” she reminded him gently. “If you must know... she is very strong. Very strong. And your boy is, too.”

Neteyam’s eyes snapped up to her, pooling with fresh tears. The words were meant to comfort him, but they only fed the monster of regret clawing at his chest. He had missed so much. No matter how many times you or Marla told him that it was a time of war and he couldn't have known, he still felt the agonizing weight of his absence. He should have been there to hold your hand while you were heavy with Ervo, he should have been there to witness every single one of his son's first milestones.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he thanked Marla, took the heavy tray, and walked back up to your kelku.

By the time he stepped back inside, Ervo was already cleanly bathed and changed into a fresh, tiny loincloth. The boy was energized as ever, and the moment Neteyam set the tray down and lifted him up, Ervo smelled so naturally of a baby and sweet sap that Neteyam couldn't help but bury his face in the boy's hair, snuggling into him with a soft sigh.

Ervo giggled loudly, his little hand immediately reaching up to grab at Neteyam’s braids. He looked over at you as you knelt by the tray, arranging the food. “Papa will feed me?” Ervo asked, his high-pitched voice filled with easy trust.

You paused, looking up from the food to glance at Neteyam. Neteyam froze, his eyes wide and pleading, nodding down at you rapidly as he immediately lowered his massive frame onto the woven floor, setting Ervo securely on his lap.

“What about your morning patrol?” you mumbled quietly, keeping your voice low so only he could hear.

You watched as Ervo settled against Neteyam’s chest like it was the absolute best seat in the entire world, vastly bigger, sturdier, and much more comfortable than any mat.

“It won't be for another hour,” Neteyam replied softly, his attention snagged by your son, who was aggressively pointing a sticky finger at the specific fruit he wanted to eat. Neteyam immediately jumped into action, carefully peeling it and breaking it into perfect, toddler-sized bites.

Your lips pushed forward slightly, a tiny, involuntary twitch of amusement hitting you as you watched a legendary, hardened warrior completely smitten, utterly held captive by the small hands of your little boy.

Without a word, you pushed your own leaf of food toward Neteyam. You couldn't finish everything anyway, and he clearly hadn't brought anything for himself. You immediately looked away, deliberately avoiding his reaction, completely missing the way his golden eyes literally lit up with a breathless joy just because you shared your food with him.

Once breakfast was done, Neteyam practically refused to let you touch a single dish. He cleaned up everything in a flash while you gathered your stuff and prepared for your day at the healing pavilion.

As you moved around the kelku, Neteyam bit his lower lip, his eyes quietly tracking your every movement. A heavy, aching tightness gripped his chest. It felt so beautifully, agonizingly domestic. This was the life that should have been his if he had just played his cards right. If he had only known there was still so much left to live and play for.

When it was time to leave, he insisted on walking you to the pavilion, with Ervo still riding happily in his arms.

As you stepped inside the shade of the healing pavilion, you glanced back at the pair. “That boy will forget how to walk if you keep carrying him everywhere,” you noted, your tone carrying a humored edge.

Neteyam smiled warmly, stepping into the pavilion after you. “Just let me,” he murmured softly, gently cradling the back of his son’s head in the crook of his neck. “He fits so perfectly in my arms.”

He carefully set Ervo down on a soft mat, ruffling the boy’s fluffy hair.

“Papa will come back right after my patrol, okay? We’ll go play. What do you think about that?”

Ervo nodded rapidly, already thoroughly distracted by some scattered wooden toys he had left there the day before. “Okay. I wait,” Ervo chirped.

Neteyam smiled breathlessly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to the top of his son's head. As he straightened up, his golden eyes flicked up to meet yours, holding your gaze for a long, quiet beat.

You found, with a sudden leap in your chest, that you still knew him entirely too well. You didn't even need words to understand the silent message written all over his face: Please let me keep coming back.

For the next weeks, it’s all he ever did.

He sleeps in a hammock outside your kelku, wakes up to fetch you and Ervo breakfast, and goes to his morning patrol only to come back to spend time with Ervo. He climbed the treacherous upper water-vines three times a week, bringing back the sweetest, clearest mountain run-off before you even had the chance to check the waterskins for refill.

Most days, you won’t even need to ask the gatherers the specific, rare herbs that needed replenishing, you’d find them already restocked, knowing that Neteyam had to have gone to the slippery, moss-covered undersides of the floating mountains to get them, and still be back before dinner.

One hot afternoon, you walked down to the lower training clearing to find him completely surrounded by the village children. Ervo was sitting securely on top of Neteyam's broad shoulders, holding onto his ears like reins, his little tail swishing with absolute pride.

Neteyam was kneeling on one knee in the dirt, completely unbothered by the weight of your son. In his hands, he held a small, practice bow, the kind given to young children just beginning their training, and a single blunt arrow.

The village kids were huddled around him in a tight, breathless semicircle, their wide golden eyes glued to his every movement. None of them questioned why a decorated warrior of the Great War was spending his precious afternoon off hanging out with a bunch of kids. To them, he was simply the coolest person alive.

“You must not just look with your eyes,” Neteyam explained, his deep voice dropping into a quiet, captivating whisper that had every single child leaning in closer. He adjusted his grip on the tiny bow, his massive hands looking almost comical against the small wood. “You must feel the wind on your skin. Listen to your surroundings and keep sharp, Eywa will tell you exactly where to go.”

With an effortless, fluid grace, Neteyam drew the string back. High above them, a single, broad green leaf loosed itself from a branch, lazily fluttering down. The blunt arrow struck the falling leaf and with a dull pop, the arrow and leaf landed on the bush.

The clearing absolutely erupted. The children gasped, clapping their hands and jumping up and down in pure amazement. Ervo, right on top of his father's shoulders, let out a high-pitched, victorious shriek, bouncing so hard that Neteyam had to quickly reach up with one large hand to steady the boy, a soft, booming chuckle escaping his chest.

“Me next! Papa, let me try!” Ervo said excitedly.

Neteyam’s ears twitched forward, a breathless smile breaking across his face at the title. He carefully hoisted Ervo down from his shoulders, cradling him against his chest as he looked up and finally spotted you standing at the edge of the clearing.

The moment his eyes met yours, the confidence vanished just a little. His posture softened completely, his golden eyes searching your face with that familiar, quiet hope. He turned to the kids and told them something you couldn’t quite hear before he headed over to you, wiping sweat from his forehead, his breathing slightly heavy.

“Is it time for his nap?” Neteyam asked eagerly, his ears perked up, entirely ready to carry the boy back up the massive tree.

“No,” you replied softly, holding Ervo’s hand and kissing the palm of it, causing him to giggle. “But it is almost his nap time.”

Neteyam adjusted his grip on Ervo, his fingers splaying protectively over the boy’s small lower back. “Going somewhere?” he asked, looking down at you.

You hesitated, your eyes briefly scanning the woods beyond the clearing. You bit your lower lip, a sudden wave of distraction clouding your features. “I’m just getting something.”

“If you need anything, I’ll get it for you,” he said instantly, his tone leaving absolutely no room for argument. He stepped closer, his shadow falling over you like a shield. “That way you can put Ervo down for his nap and you don’t need to go out there.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, weighing your options. The mid-day heat was picking up, and Ervo’s eyelids were already drooping against Neteyam’s chest. “I just need some moon lily and tealo leaves,” you admitted, your focus drifting.

You were entirely too preoccupied to notice the way Neteyam’s head reared back slightly, a heavy shadow of fear and surprise violently washing over his chiseled features. He knew exactly what those two herbs combined to create. You used to drink that exact eclipse tea years ago, back when the two of you were stealing moments in the dark, desperate to prevent a pregnancy before you two were properly mated. He used to be the one to get them for you.

“I’ll get it for you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave, thick and strained as he forced a weak, hollow smirk onto his face. “I know exactly where to find them, remember? Been here, done that.”

He was trying to play it cool, to inject some humor into the air, but inside, his chest was collapsing. Yes, you weren't mated. But that didn't mean you didn't have a lover. Even when the two of you had been secretly together, half the young men in the clan had tried their luck with you. He didn't doubt for a single second that they were still trying, and the thought that one of them might have finally won, that you needed this tea... made him want to curl up and scream into the dirt.

“Are you sure?” you asked, completely missing his inner turmoil.

“Yes,” he nodded tightly, carefully transferring a sleepy Ervo into your arms.

“Thank you, Neteyam,” you murmured, adjusting your hold on your son and turning to head up toward the pavilion.

An hour later, the bead curtains of the pavilion rustled, and Neteyam stepped inside. Ervo was already fast asleep on a small cot in the corner, and you were at your workspace, meticulously washing the fresh moon lily and tealo leaves Neteyam had brought back.

Neteyam’s golden eyes instantly tracked a young woman sitting quietly in the corner of the room, her tail twitching nervously.

“I am so sorry for the hassle, tsakarem...” the girl, Peyra, whispered for the nth time. She watched you grind the herbs into a paste, completely uncaring that Neteyam was standing just paces away.

You let out a heavy sigh, pouring hot water over the mixture. “This is not a hassle, Peyra. It is only that I wish you would be more responsible with your intake if you are going to be having regular sex.”

And oh, the irony of your own words was not lost on you. The literal, living proof of your own past irresponsibility was snoring softly just a few feet away. Peyra nodded sheepishly, gratefully accepting the wooden bowl of steaming tea you handed her, drinking it down quickly before offering a polite nod and slipping out of the pavilion.

Once the curtain settled, you glanced up. Neteyam was still standing exactly where he had been minutes ago, rooted to the floor like a massive, awkward tree.

“What?” you asked, wiping your hands on a clean cloth.

He shrugged his broad shoulders, shifting his weight. “I thought...”

Your eyes narrowed at his sketchy behavior. “You thought what?” When he didn't answer, the pieces suddenly clicked in your mind. A look of sheer disbelief crossed your face. “You thought that was for me?”

Neteyam licked his dry lips, his ears pinning back in pure embarrassment as he looked away. “Not... not in a bad way,” he muttered, his voice quiet. “I just thought... well, the men of this clan would have to be incredibly stupid not to shoot their shot while I was gone.”

You raised a single eyebrow, entirely unamused but secretly startled by the possessive edge in his tone. “I have a toddler and a healing pavilion to run, Neteyam. I have absolutely no time for that.”

“Of course,” he responded instantly. The sheer, overwhelming wave of relief that washed over him practically took all his words away. His shoulders dropped, the suffocating tension leaving his frame.

Trying to break the sudden silence, you went back to organizing your tools, casually asking, “Do the reef people have their own contraceptives? Perhaps made of seaweeds?”

Neteyam blinked, thoroughly caught off guard. His brow furrowed in genuine confusion as he actually had to think about it. “Not that I know of. I never laid with anyone back there.”

Your fingers froze over your grinding stone. Your forehead relaxed for a brief, traitorous second, a strange lightness hitting your chest before you quickly forced your features back into a harsh, defensive scowl. “I didn’t ask you that.”

“Right. Of course,” he said, a tiny, breathless smile tugging at his lips at the sight of your incredibly cute, stubborn scowl. He knew he was pushing his luck, so he quickly cleared his throat, stepping back toward the exit to return to his normal programming. “I’ll get going. I have a meeting with the council.”

You watched him walk out, the beads clattering behind him. The moment he was gone, you bit your lip, lowering your head to lean your forrhead against the table as you tried to calm the frantic beating of your heart. You had tried so hard over the last three years to bury your curiosity, to force yourself to believe he had found a woman in Awa’atlu just so the pain of him leaving would finally numb out.

But hearing him say, so casually and honestly, that he had never been wth anyone else... it unleashed a warmth you weren't prepared to handle. You were still so deeply affected by him, and you hated how easily he could still disrupt your peace.

Meanwhile, inside the council longhouse, the atmosphere was heavy. The village elders were gathered in a circle, mapping out the upcoming leadership transition between Tarsem and Neteyam. Tarsem was set to return from the Tayrangi clan on the day of the mantle passing, but before that could happen, the elders were strictly focusing on political technicalities.

When Neteyam arrived and sat beside his parents, Neytiri leaned over, quietly explaining the current topic of discussion. Neteyam’s brow furrowed in deep confusion.

He looked across the fire at one of the senior elders leading the discussion. “Forgive me, but why are we discussing a list of prospective betrothals for me? Doesn’t the clan already have a tsakarem?”

The elders shifted uncomfortably, exchanging uneasy, pointed glances. Finally, Elder Okan cleared his throat, leaning forward. “Well... we do, Neteyam. But... Y/N is... for lack of a better word, disgraced. She had a child outside the sacred bond. She is a—”

“Elder Okan,” Neteyam interrupted cleanly, instantly silencing the entire longhouse.

Neteyam stood up, his massive frame towering over the council fire. He looked the elders, the warriors, and every single member of the council dead in the eye, his gaze burning with a fierce, protective fury.

“If she is a disgrace to this clan, that is only because I disgraced her,” he stated, his voice echoing off the woven walls with absolute authority.

The room remained silent, listening to him.

“I am the father of her child,” Neteyam said. “I got her with child, and then I left her here, completely alone, to bear the weight of my absence and raise our son. I broke her heart and left her in the dark to go fight the war for our people. And through all of it, she did not break. She rebuilt herself again and again, she raised a beautiful boy, and she proved her worth and her devotion to the healing of our people every single day.”

He watched realization and shame dawn in their faces. If it weren’t for Mo’at years ago, these people wouldn’t even have considered you as the tsakarem. They overlook what you do for the people and it didn’t mean anything to Neteyam anymore now that they seemed to have feel a deep respect for you only after he spoke on your behalf and destroyed his own perfect son, perfect soldier reputation.

He is far from perfect. Not when he left you alone to be ravaged by these people.

“She is the only woman I will ever mate with. And if this clan wants me as their Olo’eyktan, they will accept her as their Tsahik.”

Neytiri patted his hand on the table. “Has she agreed to be your mate, Neteyam?”

Neteyam swallowed, glancing down at his mother. He shook his head, “No,” he said. “But I'm going to court her...”

Jake scoffed, stifling a smile. “Better get to it, son,“ he said as he cleared his throat.

One morning, Neteyam walked you two to the pavilion as per usual, but you noticed some elders watching from a far. It had felt like you were in a circus in the past moons, with the clan members watching your every move like they were trying to unleash a secret.

When you were younger, you were more eager to please, more  eager to belong because you grew up an orphan. But being a mother had changed all that, you care for no one’s opinion now, and you genuinely feel like you owe none of them an explanation about Ervo, and who his father was, even though it has gotten rather obvious who exactly it was.

“I'll come back later, baby,“ Neteyam told Ervo, kissing his temple but when you glanced at him, his eyes were on you as though he was talking to you.

You looked away when you felt your heart jostle inside your chest. Sometimes, when he talks to Ervo... It feels like he was talking to you. He put Ervo down and your son waved up at him quietly as he began to walk. You dropped down on one knee, wrapping an arm around your son. He always seems so sad when Neteyam has to leave.

“Bye, Papa!” you said in a small voice, urging him to mimic you.

Neteyam looked down at you both, waving at Ervo, his eyes soft on you.

“Take care, Papa,” you urged Ervo to say.

“Take care, Papa!” your son parroted in a high-pitched voice and you kissed his round cheek.

Neteyam laughed and waved at him again. When you entered the pavilion, you remembered your stone mortar that Neteyam had painstakingly sourced and gifted you years and years ago when you became one of the apprentice healers. It had cracked right down the middle the previous afternoon and you couldn’t help but sigh in a moment of grief as you thought of trudging down to the claymakers on the lower levels to seek a replacement.

You did a double look on your workable, though, when you caught sight of a brand-new mortar and pestle.

You made your way to it, your heart soaring excitedly. You ran your fingers over the smooth, flawless grain of the dark river stone. It was perfectly weighted, the edges meticulously shaved down and grooved to explicitly fit the unique contour of your palm. It was a signature style you recognized instantly, only Neteyam worked stone with that specific patience, and only he knew the shape of your palm.

You looked beyond the curtains, on the pathway where Neteyam had disappeared for morning patrol.

Over the next weeks, a quiet wave of things you were still just about to need and want was already manifesting before you, though Neteyam had never given you a reason to question this. It was as though he was anticipating your every need before you could even vocalize them, entirely devoted to your convenience.

One night, a chaotic hunting accident had kept you at the healing pavilion until long past eclipse, stitching deep lacerations and mixing poultices. Marla had already kindly sent up a tray of dinner hours ago, and you had eaten in quiet intervals between patients.

By the time the pavilion cleared out, you were exhausted, sitting on the woven mat to sort the remaining herbs. Ervo was leaning his small, heavy body completely against your side. His eyelids were heavy, blinking slowly against the soft glow of the hanging firepots, but his stubborn little fingers were tightly hooked into your beaded top, desperately holding out.

The soft clatter of the curtains made both of you look up, seeing Neteyam step inside, fresh from what must have been a grueling, late-night council meeting.

The moment your eyes landed on him, an involuntary warmth flooded your chest, and your face lit up before you could even think to mask it.

“Papa!“ Ervo voiced the exact excitement you were obviously feeling.

“Hello, my boy,” Neteyam smiled, the exhaustion instantly draining from his face. He dropped to one knee as Ervo scrambled up and ran toward him, his small body crashing directly into his father. Neteyam’s golden eyes flicked up to meet yours, and you didn't even try to remove the soft smile lingering on your lips.

“The little man won't sleep without you,” you said, shaking your head with a gentle huff before looking back down at the roots on the table.

Neteyam chuckled, looking down at his son, whose eyes were suddenly twinkling with newfound energy. “Is that so?” he grinned, immediately digging his large fingers into the boy's sides to tickle him, earning a loud, breathless fit of giggles that made you look up again, completely charmed. “Is that why you were practically leaning against Mama already, but still you won’t sleep, hm, little warrior?”

You watched as Neteyam smoothly scooped the boy up, cradling him in his massive arms like an infant. Ervo threw his head back, laughing endlessly as Neteyam leaned down to blow air against his exposed neck, tickling him until the toddler was completely out of breath.

“Neteyam...” you called out, your voice a soft, warning murmur to break up the rowdiness. “He needs to sleep.”

He grinned, settling the boy deeper into the crook of his arm as he sat down properly on the mat across from you. “You sleep now, little man. Close your eyes.”

“But tomorrow... tomorrow...” Ervo mumbled, his small hands weakly waving in the air, trying to animate a bow and arrow. Neteyam had been taking him out for archery practice with a blunt arrow, and the boy had been entirely crazy about it.

“Yes, yes, tomorrow, Papa will teach you again,” Neteyam promised softly, leaning down to press a tender kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Ervo, don’t you miss your bugs?” you interjected from your spot, crushing a handful of dried leaves.

“I miss... I watched bugs today, Mama... many bugs... many colors...” Ervo trailed off, his voice dropping into a sleepy slur. His heavy eyelids finally fluttered shut, his little head snuggling deep into the warm expanse of Neteyam’s chest.

Neteyam let out a quiet, breathless sigh, his eyes snapping to yours as a soft, private smile pulled at his lips. You smiled back, the quiet domesticity of the room wrapping around the three of you like a blanket.

“You're here late today,” he noted quietly, his gaze dropping to the sheer volume of plants around you.

You sighed, rolling your shoulders out. “Most of the herbs needed restocking after tonight, and I just felt the sudden urge to clean everything up... for my own convenience tomorrow.”

“Ever the perfectionist,” he murmured, his lips twisting into a fond, nostalgic smirk.

As he shifted to get more comfortable, Ervo’s heavy head moved against his shoulder, once again pushing his chest knife sheath completely out of place. Your eyes lowered instinctively, and under the steady light of the fire, you saw the scar clearly. It was a vicious, jagged scar of raised, pale flesh.

Your brow furrowed, a sudden chill running through your veins. “What happened?”

The easy, playful aura around Neteyam evaporated instantly, turning deeply serious. “The war,” he answered bluntly.

You huffed, frustrated by his brevity. “I know it's from the war, Neteyam. I am a tsakarem. I am asking what happened.”

He looked at you for a long beat, adjusting his sleeping son securely against his torso. “I got shot,” he said in a tone that undermines what happened. “The metal went deep. Almost died.”

You took in a sharp, ragged breath as a terrifying tremble shook through your core, but you quickly steeled your expression, trying desperately to hide how profoundly the thought of his near death shook you to the bone. You bit your lower lip hard enough to draw color. “I'm glad you lived...” you mumbled, your eyes glued to the floor.

He let out a wistful, quiet scoff, a tiny smirk forming on his face. “You pulled me back,” he murmured softly. “Otherwise, that version of Neteyam never would have known about your struggles, or the fact that you brought Ervo into this world. I never would have known my son.”

Your forehead creased deeply, a sudden sting behind your eyes as tears began to pool. “Pulled you... back?”

“I succumbed to darkness then... But I dreamed of you,” he confessed, his gaze dropping to Ervo as if the absolute intensity of your stare was too much for him to bear. “We were at the river... You kissed me and told me to wake up. So I did.” He swallowed hard, finally forcing his golden eyes back up to lock onto yours. “Y/N, I know I said stupid, unforgivable things to you before I left three years ago. I hurt you, and I—”

“And you shouldn't have?” you cut him off, your voice cracking as the buried agony flared to life in your chest. “I think I already know what you're going to say, Neteyam, and I tried to understand—”

“No, you don't understand,” he pressed, taking a step forward on his knees, his face entirely open and desperate. “I said what I said, but that didn't mean I meant a single word of it. I love you, Y/N. I loved you so much then, and I love you so much still. Even much more now.”

“You told me it was not serious,” you said, the words slipping out in a small, broken voice that felt like an open wound. “You told me to my face that it was a passing thing, that you would find someone better in the reefs and you’d settle down there. You were so cruel to me... and I must admit, I rejoiced when you came back entirely alone.”

You knew you had told him then that the past didn't matter anymore since you became a mother, but sitting here in the dark, looking at his scar, you realized you were still entirely haunted by that.

A small, incredibly tender smile formed on his lips at your confession. “I bet you did,” he murmured softly. “But I lied about all of it. How could I find someone better when I had already had the best thing in this world? And I was never going to settle down with anyone that wasn't you. It sounds stupid, but I was so terrified I would die out there, Y/N. I thought it would be easier for you to mourn a man you hated, rather than a man you were waiting for. I didn't want you to be hurt when I couldn’t be here.”

“I got hurt anyway,” you whispered, your lips pulling down as the first heavy tear spilled down your cheek.

Seeing your tears, Neteyam didn't hesitate. Moving with extreme care so as not to disturb the sleeping toddler wrapped in his left arm, he slid across the mat until he was kneeling directly beside you. He reached out a trembling hand, his fingers stopping just inches from your knee, desperate to touch but terrified of crossing the line.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice thick and fractured. “I thought I was protecting you but all I did was poison what we had and the time we had left then. All I did was leave you with that pain while you carry my child. The desire alone to bring back time and change everything is already the heaviest burden I will carry.”

You turned to him and the sight of your tears knocked the air out of him like he had been struck in the gut. His arm reached up to wrap around you and pull you to him and you allowed him to hug you. The moment his scent hit you, everything in you collapsed. You buried your face against the crook of his neck, resting your forehead heavily against his sturdy shoulder as a quiet sob escaped you. Neteyam held you tight, his large hand pressing firmly into your back, burying his face in your hair as his own silent tears flowed.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered over and over into your hair, his voice trembling. “I am here and I will never leave your side again. I love you so much...”

A sudden, rhythmic rustle of the bead curtains echoed through the pavilion.

You both stiffened slightly, pulling back just enough to look toward the entrance. Your breath hitched. Standing in the doorway, illuminated by the moonlight, was the Tsahik herself. Mo'at stood, her sharp, knowing eyes sweeping over both of you. You with your tear-stained face, Neteyam with his arm wrapped fiercely around you, and little Ervo snoring peacefully between you.

You pulled away and wiped your tears off, while Neteyam looked everywhere but his grandmother. Mo’at shook her head, completely ignoring the emotional wreckage but she couldn’t let the shyness slip.

“Are you really acting like two teenagers caught hugging? Please. Not while your little boy was between you two,“ she said with an experience that remained entirely unbothered. “The moon lily roots need to be steeped, tsakarem—”

“Yes, Tsahik. I... know what to do,” you said in a soft voice.

“Hm,” she responded before slipping back through the curtain, leaving the three of you in the quiet darkness.

You finished up your work at the pavilion in the quiet hour following Mo’at departure. Neteyam walked you up to your kelku, the cool night air wrapping around you both while he carried a deeply sleeping Ervo in his arms.

When you stepped inside the familiar dome of your home, you struck a flint to light the hanging firepot, casting a low, golden glow across the woven walls. Neteyam moved silently, laying the sleeping mats out properly so he could ease Ervo down. But the moment the boy’s back touched the mat, he stirred and let out a soft, tiny whimper. His small, chubby arms reached up blindly, wrapping tightly around Neteyam’s neck.

“Papa...” his small voice croaked in his sleep.

Neteyam let out a profoundly endearing sound, his chest hitching as he immediately wrapped his broad arm around Ervo to anchor him. “I’m here, boy,” he mumbled, leaning down to press a tender kiss to Ervo’s small head.

He looked up at you from his position on the floor, a quiet, slightly hesitant smile playing on his lips. Your lips twisted into a soft expression. “You can stay,” you said quietly, stepping onto the mat. “If you want.”

“I want,” he answered right away, without a second of hesitation. His large hand splayed over his son’s chest, the gentle weight calming the toddler completely. Ervo settled back down, his grip loosening slightly, though his arms remained loosely draped around Neteyam's neck.

You sat on the edge of the mat, leaning over to carefully pry Ervo’s arms away so Neteyam could sit up, but your son only tightened his hold, nuzzling his little face directly against his father’s cheek as a cute, stubborn sound escaped his mouth.

You let out a soft chuckle and shook your head, giving up. “Well, I guess you’ll just have to wake up with a stiff neck tomorrow,” you whispered.

Lowering yourself onto your side on the mat, you tucked your hand under your head to use it as a pillow. Your soft eyes looked at your son, watching his peaceful, even breaths. As you stared, your gaze naturally traveled past the boy's face and met Neteyam’s eyes.

The two of you were entirely silent for a long moment, just staring into each other’s eyes across the space of your sleeping child. It didn't feel awkward, and the tension had translated into something incredibly warm, grounded, and so deeply familiar that your eyes pricked with unshed tears for a fleeting second.

“How was it like?” he mumbled, his voice a low rumble.

“Hm?” You shifted your hand, gently caressing Ervo’s soft head.

“When you were alone here... everything,” he murmured, his ears dipping slightly in a display of profound vulnerability. “I want to know... if I can.”

Your lips twisted into a faint smile. “I didn't move here until after I gave birth. I was still living at the communal shelter before that... so I was basically the prime example of what not to be,” you noted, trying to chuckle the memory off with a soft smirk.

Neteyam’s brows furrowed deeply, his chest tightening. “Were you shunned?”

“Not really... Mo’at made me her tsakarem,” you said softly. “And then, when I finally gave birth, we moved into this kelku... and we made it our home.”

Neteyam smiled weakly, his eyes scanning the cozy hut. It was filled with woven baskets, drying herbs, and small wooden toys, everything that meant so much to you and your son. “How was it like? When he was a baby?”

“He was hungry all the time, but he didn't cry much. He was the goodest boy,” you mumbled, leaning down to press a soft kiss against your son’s round cheek. “I’ve heard most of the other mothers speak of being awoken in the dead of night by their screaming babies, but Ervo just didn't cry at all. When he woke up in the morning, he was always so entertained by the sun’s rays seeping through the woven walls. He would just lay there, watching the light and waiting for me to wake up, even though he was clearly hungry.”

Neteyam sniffled. You pulled your eyes away from your son to look at him, and your heart twinged when you saw a heavy tear roll off the tip of his nose, catching the firelight.

“I should have been here...” he choked out, his jaw clenching.

“You were fighting a war, Neteyam...” you mumbled softly.

“Still... I am entirely too acquainted with regret,” he whispered, his golden eyes raw with grief. “With you, and with our son... there is so much I missed. So much I wish I could take back.”

You reached across Ervo’s small frame, gently placing your hand over Neteyam’s large hand where it rested on the boy’s chest. “But it just wasn’t the case, Neteyam...” you whispered, pushing yourself up onto your elbow. “Everything that happened is the will of Eywa. I didn’t have it easy, but you didn’t have it easy either. You almost died out there, I almost lost you completely. The war hurt every single one of us.”

He looked up at you, his eyes swimming with tears. “It was I who hurt you...”

“And I am letting it go. I am forgiving you,” you murmured.

Leaning across the small space, you lowered your head and pressed a soft kiss against his lips. You felt his breathing hitch instantly under the gentle touch. When you pulled away, a soft, breathless smile formed on your face, while his wide, golden eyes remained glued to you in absolute reverence.

“I love you so much, Y/N...” he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion.

“I’ll bring you to some of my memories with Ervo tomorrow,” you whispered, settling back onto the mat.

“I would like that very much,” he smiled, his hand turning over to interlock his fingers with yours.

The next morning, you woke up to the sound of Ervo’s energetic chirping. The boy was moving like a happy little worm right between you and Neteyam, his tiny feet kicking at the blankets.

Throughout the night, Neteyam had shifted, wrapping his long, heavy arm securely around your waist, his head cradled directly against yours. He stirred the moment you shifted, his large hand playfully catching Ervo’s tiny hand as the boy reached up toward a bright ray of morning light cutting through the ceiling.

“Papa!” Ervo shrieked with absolute delight, laughing loudly as he rolled over on the mat to face the two of you.

Neteyam instantly scooped him into his arms, hugging his small body tightly against his chest. You pushed yourself up on one arm, leaning over to kiss Ervo’s cheek. “Are you hungry, little man?”

“Yes!” he chirped, aggressively struggling to free himself from Neteyam, who had immediately begun to tickle his ribs. “No!! Help me, Mama!” he shrieked, giggling uncontrollably.

You laughed, sitting up to fix your messy braids as you watched them play. Ervo’s bright giggles completely filled the kelku, and when he finally managed to wiggle free from his father’s grip, he scrambled across the mat and ran straight into your lap, still laughing. You hugged him close, and his small body melted into you.

Your eyes found Neteyam, who was sitting up, a soft, incredibly contented smile gracing his chiseled face as he watched you both.

“I should go get your breakfast from the kitchens,” he said, preparing to stand.

“Or we could just join breakfast downstairs,” you offered casually, adjusting Ervo’s small loincloth.

You didn't catch the exact moment Neteyam’s face literally lit up, but by the time you were all walking down the winding ramp, it was entirely obvious that both he and Ervo were far too excited. Ervo had never asked why you rarely ate at the communal meals anymore; to him, the only important thing had been eating. But now that you were actually walking toward the communal ground, he was far too energized to be trusted on foot.

Neteyam happily scooped him up. When you finally stepped into the bustling communal clearing, the sheer volume of eyes turning toward the three of you was completely overwhelming. It wasn't as if the clan hadn't seen Neteyam practicality living outside your kelku and serving your every need for the past moons, but seeing the three of you walking into the morning light together was an undeniable confirmation. The whispers faded into respectful, wide-eyed silence.

You sat down and ate together as a little family, Ervo comfortably splitting his time between sitting in Neteyam’s lap and snuggling into his side.

Once breakfast was over, Neteyam walked you both back up to the healing pavilion before his morning patrol. Ervo immediately ran inside the bead curtains after loudly telling Neteyam to take care. You turned to follow your son, but before you could take a step, Neteyam caught you gently by the elbow and pulled you back to him.

Before you could even speak, his lips came down to crush against yours.

It was entirely unlike the soft, gentle kiss you had given him the night before. This was hard, deep, and all-consuming. A possessive, breathless demand that told you exactly how much he had starved for you over the last three years. By the time he finally let you go, your breath was completely trapped in your throat.

You licked your wet lips, blinking up at his towering frame. “Take care...” you mumbled, entirely at a loss for words.

His smile was lopsided and entirely boyish before he turned on his heel and trotted down the path for patrol. You stood there, your face burning incredibly hot. He was still exactly the same, disciplined and perfectly behaved on the outside, but the moment he was provoked, it was like letting a wild animal out of its cage.

You worked diligently until midday, and the moment Neteyam’s rotation ended, he arrived at the pavilion so the two of you could take Ervo out. You had originally planned to leave the boy with Kiri while you two visited the Tree of Souls, but you miraculously ran into Neytiri and Jake near the lower levels, both of whom were practically eager to babysit.

Apparently, Neytiri had been secretly spoiling your son with sweet fruits and rare treats for weeks now, to the point where Ervo recognized his grandmother as the ultimate source of good food. Jake, on the other hand, had a much grander bribe.

“I promise him a ride on Toruk,” Jake said with a laugh, winking at the boy.

“Looks like he’s going to have the absolute time of his life today,” you said as you and Neteyam walked away, laughing together.

“The luckiest boy alive, if you ask me,” Neteyam smirked, stepping over a thick root. “Lo’ak, Kiri, and I never even had a chance to ride on Toruk when we were kids, you know?”

You pushed your lips forward thoughtfully. “I also don’t recall having Toruk around much growing up. Did your father claim him back during the war?”

Neteyam nodded, reaching out to pluck a small, vibrant purple flower from a low-hanging vine. “He did, right after the first major battle we had against the sky people.” He stepped closer, gently handing the flower to you. “I guess Dad’s releasing Toruk back to the wild soon. But not before giving our boy a ride.”

You smiled softly, tucking the stem of the flower securely into your dark braid.

When you finally reached the sacred sanctuary of the Tree of Souls, the air grew thick with a profound, spiritual quiet. Without a word, you reached out and grabbed Neteyam’s large hand. He squeezed your fingers tightly, and together, you stepped under the massive, glowing canopy, the silver, crystal-like tendrils brushing against your skin.

You reached behind you to pull your kuru forward, looking at him with a soft smile. He did the same, his golden eyes watching you with so much raw devotion it almost made you want to look away.

“I want... to be at his birth,” Neteyam said suddenly, his voice thick. “I want to be there for it.”

You bit your lip, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Alright... but warning, I look like an absolute mess in this memory.”

He let out a quiet groan, stepping into your space to press a deep, tender kiss against the side of your head. “You can never look like a mess to me, my love.”

You smiled, raising your braid to connect with the glowing tendril. Neteyam followed suit, and as your neural paths linked to the sacred tree, the world dissolved. Suddenly, you were both drifting into a memory that was permanently tattooed onto your brain.

Neteyam found himself standing in the corner of the healing pavilion, the vision so sharp and vivid he felt as though he could physically reach out and touch the woven walls. You were lying on a pile of soft mats, a mountain of pillows supporting your back as you struggled to breathe, your skin glistening with sweat. You looked so young, so exhausted, and so deeply pained.

Neteyam stood there, watching you writhe, feeling his heart being brutally torn in two every single time a sharp cry of agony escaped your lips. Mo’at was hovering over you, doing her absolute best, encouraging your breathing and guiding you through the final, grueling moments until a sharp, loud cry echoed through the space.

Neteyam craned his neck, a massive, breathless smile breaking across his face as he watched Mo’at lift a large, healthy baby boy.

“A boy, Y/N,” Mo’at’s echoed voice filled the memory.

He watched you weep with pure exhaustion and relief as you reached out your trembling arms, taking the boy against your bare chest. Mo’at gently helped you latch the hungry baby, and Neteyam watched the scene in absolute wonder, his large hands balling into fists as his chest tightened with an overwhelming wave of emotion.

Sensing the sheer, heavy weight of Neteyam’s energy through the bond, you slowly disconnected from the tree. The vision slowly faded, and when you opened your eyes, you looked over to find him crying silently, heavy tears streaming down his face.

Your breath hitched, and you immediately moved into his space, cupping his wet cheeks with your hands to wipe the moisture away.

“I’m so sorry... I’m so sorry I wasn't there,” he kept repeating, his voice breaking.

You shook your head firmly. “No. Quit apologizing, alright? You’ve been crying entirely too much lately,” you teased softly, peering up into his eyes. “Come, I promised to show you the funny memories I have with him.”

He let out a breathless smile, his large hands wrapping gently around your wrists to keep your touch against his skin.

You reconnected, and as promised, you pulled him into the lighter moments of your son's life. You showed him the exact moment Ervo let out his very first, bubbling laugh; the clumsy afternoon he took his first, unbalanced steps across the hut; the quiet, breathless second he first babbled the word Mama. You showed him the quiet, lazy afternoons spent in the pavilion, and one particularly hilarious afternoon where Ervo had been utterly terrified of a bug attack, only to clumsily brave his fear and swat it away when he noticed that you had pretended to be scared, too.

By the end of the memories, Neteyam was completely nonverbal. He was crying even during the moments you considered funny, his heart overflowing with the years he had missed.

You pulled away from the tree, looking at him with pursed lips and incredibly soft eyes, reaching up once more to brush the tears from his sharp cheekbones. By now, the eclipse had fully brought darkness over the land, causing the long, sweeping tendrils of the Tree of Souls to pulse with a vibrant, deep purple bioluminescence.

“Thank you for allowing me to be a part of all of it...” he mumbled, his large hands gently cradling your hand, lifting it up to his face so he could press a fervent kiss directly into your palm. “You make me so incredibly happy, Y/N. I never thought I would have the chance to hold you again... and now, you have given me Ervo, you allow me back into your life... it all just feels like a beautiful dream.”

You smiled, squeezing his hand tightly. “You deserve to be a part of all of it, Neteyam... and to be a part of our lives, too.”

He smiled, a sudden, familiar mischievous light sparking in his golden eyes as he stepped closer, closing the remaining distance between your bodies. “And what if I stay for life?”

You shrugged playfully, pressing your palm flat against the center of his warm chest. “I wouldn’t mind...”

Neteyam looked up, admiring the breathtaking beauty of the glowing canopy above before lowering his gaze back down to you. The playful light vanished, replaced by an expression of pure, unyielding confidence.

“I want to court you properly, Y/N,” he stated firmly. “Until you choose me as your mate.”

Your brows furrowed, a highly amused smile pulling at your lips. “Aren’t you doing that already?” you asked, a soft blush hitting your cheeks. “I thought you were already courting me... I kissed you last night, and you kissed me today.” You bit your lower lip. “And we have Ervo...”

Neteyam’s eyes narrowed playfully, though you could tell he was practically elated, his ears twitching rapidly just like your son’s did whenever he was too happy. They truly were identical.

He caught both of your hands, enveloping them in his massive grip. “I love Ervo very much... but he and his future siblings are entirely separate from us in these matters. This is about us. You and me.”

Your brow twitched, your eyes widening slightly. “Future siblings?”

He bit his lip, a boyish smirk creeping onto his face. “If you want...” he mumbled, leaning down slightly. “Don’t you think Ervo wants playmates?”

“I think he wants us home right now so he can tell us his grand stories about Toruk,” you countered, turning to drag him by the hand out from under the tendrils.

Neteyam didn't let you step away. With a sudden, firm tug, he pulled you right back to stand flush against his front. You looked up, your breath hitching at the dark, blazing heat suddenly swirling in his golden eyes. You put a hand up to press against his chest to steady yourself, but he smoothly caught your wrist, pulling your hand up and draping it over the back of his neck before lowering his head to claim your mouth.

His large hands found your waist, gripping you tightly to pull your body flat against his hard, heavily muscled frame. He deepened the kiss instantly, his tongue sliding past your lips, and you lifted your other hand to hook tightly around his neck, pulling him down further. His hands began to frantically feel up your sides, a low, needy moan escaping his throat when his hand slid upward to firmly squeeze the soft weight of your breast. You pulled him down by his braids, practically eating him up as the years of starvation melted away.

“I missed you... so much,” you moaned against his lips, your hips tilting instinctively into his.

His hand rubbed down your back, pulling away just a fraction of an inch, his breathing ragged. He cupped the back of your neck with his large palm. “I missed you more, my love. You have no idea how many times I dreamed of this,” he growled softly, before burying his face back into your neck, kissing you hard.

You smiled against his skin, breaking away only to kiss your way down the sharp line of his jaw and the column of his throat. You trailed your lips down over his collarbone, tracing the taut, heavy muscles of his chest and abdomen. Neteyam’s breathing hitched violently, his abdominal muscles contracting sharply by the time you sank down onto your knees in front of him on the soft grass.

You looked up at him, deliberately licking your lips wet, your fingers immediately working the ties of his loincloth. He helped you with a trembling urgency, and the moment the fabric fell away, you came face-to-face with his thick, fully aroused length.

You bit your lip, angling your head as you darted your tongue out to lightly lick the bead of precum glistening on the wide head.

Neteyam let out a harsh, guttural groan the moment the wet warmth of your mouth enveloped the entire head, his hips twitching forward as you began to suck softly. Your hand wrapped securely around the base of his length, pumping him with a slow rhythm while you licked and sucked. You flicked your eyes upward, catching him watching you with a fierce, ravenous intensity, his gaze completely dark. You smiled around his girth, swallowing more of his length, your hand caressing the remaining skin.

You licked the entire length of him, from the head down to the base, kissing and tasting him before sliding him back into your mouth, sucking hard while your hand pumped his shaft.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” Neteyam was whimpering and groaning into the quiet night, his thighs quivering violently as his fingers tangled tightly into a handful of your braids to anchor himself.

When he finally braced his legs and came, you firmly refused to let go, ignoring his weak attempt to gently peel your head back. You swallowed his hot come, your tail swishing frantically behind you in the grass.

The moment you cleaned him off, Neteyam’s hand gripped your jaw as he lowered himself onto the grass, his lips coming crashing down on yours in a bruising kiss. His hands were frantic against your skin, quickly untying the loincloth around your tail, kissing you deeply the entire time and tasting himself on your tongue.

The moment your fabric was cleared away, he gently guided you down onto the soft grass beneath the purple glow of the tree. His mouth slid down to suckle fiercely on your breasts, his tongue swirling aggressively over your pebbled tips. He was moving like a man who didn't know what part of you to kiss or touch first, the sheer desperation consuming him.

After suckling your breasts, his large hand pried your legs apart. He knelt heavily between your thighs, lowering his head down to press his mouth directly against your wet, aching core. You let out a loud gasp as his lips and tongue found your sensitive nub, sending violent vibrations of pure pleasure straight up your spine.

“Ah... shit, Neteyam,” your head fell back into the grass, your fingers gripping the earth as his mouth went to work on your pussy. He grabbed the back of your thighs, lifting and pushing it against your body, his tongue licking your wet slit with a deep hum. He was holding your thighs with such a tight, bruising grip that when your body began to quiver and your hips buckled, you couldn't move away from the intense stimulation.

By the time he finally pulled away, you were as weak as a sun lily in the dark, your breath coming in ragged gasps. He hovered over you, his lips glistening wet with your essence, before he simply licked his lips clean. You pulled his neck down for a kiss, which he gladly gave you, before he pushed himself up on his hands, his fingers gripping his hard girth and lining the heavy head up with your pulsing entrance.

You spread your legs wider for him, your hand wrapping tightly around his thick bicep. He lowered his head to catch your lips in a deep kiss just as he sank his cock completely into your tight heat.

You let out a sharp whimper at the sudden fullness, and he instantly deepened and hardened the kiss, driving himself all the way in until his hips slammed against yours. The sheer girth you hadn't experienced in three long years gave you a moment of sharp discomfort, but your body quickly adjusted, your walls squeezing tightly around him, making him let out a breathless, deep chuckle against your mouth.

You chuckled weakly back, reaching up to cutely pinch the tip of his pointed ear.

“Nothing says home better than that,” he mumbled, peppering kisses along your jaw.

You intentionally squeezed your muscles around him again, tilting your chin up. “That?” you bit your lip.

He groaned loudly, his hand sliding down to grab the back of one of your thighs, pulling it high up over his hip as he drew his pelvis back. You let out a loud moan when he pushed all the way back in. When you looked up at him through the dark, the gold in his eyes were entirely gone, completely consumed by the black. You knew you were about to get it.

And you did. Neteyam began to thrust, pounding into you with a heavy, relentless pace that always had you screaming his name. His broad arm wrapped securely around your shoulders, while his other hand caged the side of your face, his forehead resting firmly against yours as he fucked you hard into the dirt. The friction and depth brought you straight to the edge, your grip on his shoulders tightening until your nails dug into his skin, your entire body quivering under his weight.

He continued to pound relentlessly into you even as you crashed over your high, shivering violently as he finally stiffened, coming deep inside you in hot, pulsing spurts. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his chest heaving as you hugged him tight, both of your breaths echoing loudly under the canopy.

You chuckled softly after a long moment, caressing the smooth skin of his back. “You’re heaving too much, baby. What? Has the mighty warrior lost his extraordinary stamina?” you teased lightheartedly. “Used to be... you’d be attacking me for the next round right about now—”

You shrieked with a laugh when you felt his teeth sharply nip the sensitive skin of your neck.

He pushed himself up onto his elbows, his hand sliding down to possessively caress your waist before traveling back up to your breast. “Well, I am attacking you now...” he mumbled, his golden eyes flashing as he spread your thighs apart once more, his heavy length sliding right back into your slick heat.

You chuckled, pulling him down by his neck to lose yourself in another kiss. The succeeding rounds were slower, much more thorough, as though his body perfectly remembered exactly what to do with every single inch of yours.

Though you desperately wanted to stay wrapped in his arms and spend the entire night under the glowing tree, you couldn't forget your son.

“He’s probably looking for us by now,” you said, a trace of motherly worry bleeding into your voice as you sat up and began fixing your beaded top. “He hasn’t been away from me for this long.” Your heart gripped slightly at the thought of him crying because you had been gone too long.

You and Neteyam quickly dressed and walked back to Hometree, arriving just in time for the evening meal. You were openly holding hands, your fingers tightly interlocked as you stepped into the light of the communal clearing.

You were fully expecting to see a crying, frantic Ervo being consoled, but as you scanned the area, your jaw nearly dropped. He was not crying at all. In fact, he was up on the dais, sitting comfortably on Jake’s lap while Jake, Neytiri, and Tuk completely fussed over him. There wasn't a single trace of sadness on his face. He was eating happily, his high-pitched, energetic voice reaching you from across the clearing as he rambled animatedly to Neytiri. The surrounding clan members watched you and Neteyam enter, their eyes tracking your joined hands with knowing smiles.

“He’s definitely not looking for us,” Neteyam noted with a deep chuckle.

“This little traitor...” you jokingly whispered, laughing as you shook your head.

Your son finally spotted you from across the room, and his bright smile vanished instantly, his lower lip pulling down into a pout the second he realized his parents were back.

You walked up toward the dais, and Neytiri looked up, smiling warmly at you. “Oh, he’s going to cry...” she mouthed in playful horror. “He’ll be out like a light in minutes, Y/N. He’s had a very long day.”

You chuckled, reaching out your arms to take your son from Jake. “Mama!” Ervo said, his voice instantly turning shaky as large, dramatic tears pooled in his eyes.

“No, no, no, my love...” you murmured softly, cradling his head against your shoulder and gently rubbing his back.

“You are gone long?” his small voice asked, the slight accusation breaking your heart. Neteyam’s breath hitched beside you, his large hand immediately splaying over Ervo’s small back to soothe him.

“Yes... did you miss me and Papa?” you asked gently, kissing his temple.

The boy sniffled, his large golden eyes looking up at you with an expression that looked exactly like you had just caught him stealing sweet berries before breakfast. “No... I was with Toruk,” he stated bluntly.

Jake’s booming laughter echoed off the wooden pillars, and Neytiri laughed out loud as well. Your jaw went completely slack, your wide, laughing eyes glancing over at Neteyam. This boy!

“We fly, Mama! With Grandpa and... and... Grandma!” he chirped, his hands waving in the air. He looked over at Neteyam with absolute pride. “Toruk is bigger than Hometree, Papa!”

You passed Ervo over to Neteyam when the boy reached out for him, immediately chattering a mile a minute about his grand flying experience. You all sat down together on the dais, listening to Ervo ramble about the wind and the sky. He was truly the center of the family's joy, and as you and Neteyam sat back against the cushions, you caught Neteyam’s eyes pooling with fresh tears.

He glanced over at you, and you breathlessly chuckled when a heavy drop of tear rolled down his nose. He angled his head closer to yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I love him so much, baby...” he whispered, his voice trembling with an overwhelming gratitude. “I love you so much.” He leaned in, affectionately nuzzling his face against yours.

You held the side of his face in your hand, your thumb wiping the tear away. “I love you, Neteyam...” you whispered, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his cheek.

When Ervo saw you kiss him, the toddler quickly scrambled forward in Neteyam's lap, leaning his small body up to aggressively kiss Neteyam’s other cheek, his tiny hands cupping his father’s jawline. You grinned brightly at Neteyam as he blinked at his son in pure, breathless adoration.

Tears stream down your face as you listen to him. You swallow any big emotions you had as you follow along. "He… he was hurting the last couple of days. He made it seem like it wasn't a big deal." You avoid the doctor's gaze, "I can't believe this. He's just gone."

"Do you have anyone you can call to support you right now?"

"No… I uh, I have no one," You sniffle, "Not right now anyway. I need to tell my kids."

"Of course, in this room," He touches the knob of the viewing room, "we have cleaned his body for your viewing. Take as much time as you need then let me know when you're ready." He takes a step back towards the doorway of the stairwell when he sees the kids on the stairs.

A young boy and a smaller girl. Both in their teens, he can guess. The boy was older, there were no tears in his eyes but he had a stiff jaw as he tried to repress his emotions. He reminded Robby of Jake a bit. The little girl leans into her brothers hold as her lip quivers. Tears flowing from her eyes like her mother. They looked like carbon copies.

Robby stays by the entryway as you lead the kids by the door of the viewing room. Your voice is still low as you repeat a bit of what Robby had just explained. The little girl begins to openly sob as the boy's jaw shifts. His eyes are watering now. Robby can tell as the sunlight catches the glisten in the boy's eyes.

You look to Robby and nod. He comes up to the viewing room door and opens it for your family. Your heart instantly falls into your stomach as you look at the relaxed expression on your husband's face. He looked so at peace like he was just resting. Your lips twist as you look over his features. It was like all the color drained from his face. You had to remember to breath as you hoped that he would too.

Your daughter, Vivian, holds his hand squeezing it as she cried. Your son, Elijah can't bear to look anymore shouldering past Robby back out into the hall. You sniffle as you look worriedly. Robby gives you a smile of understanding, "If you'd like, I can go speak with your son."

"Could you?" You smile, "They were inseparable. I can't imagine how he's feeling right now. His name is Elijah."

Robby nods and steps out in the hall to find Elijah against the wall by the door with his knees in his chest and his head resting on his kneecaps. Robby sinks down beside him. He hears the boy sniffle and inch away from him. "It's okay to feel the way you're feeling." He speaks gently, "There's nothing wrong with grieving."

Elijah lifts his head, "He texted me 2 hours ago… I didn't even look at it." He lets out a sob, "And now he's just gone. I… I didn't get to make him proud like he wanted me to."

"I'm sure you did." Robby says, "You shouldn't beat yourself up for missing a text message. Sometimes things happen out of our control. You are human and you texting him or not would not have changed the outcome here."

Elijah pulls out his phone and opens the message. His frown deepens then he closes his phone, "I should go check on my mom." He stands up. He holds out his hand for Robby.

Robby grabs his forearm and effortlessly the young man pulls him up. Without a second glance, Elijah enters the viewing room again. Robby enters back into the ED and stands in front of the nurse's station to look at the status board.

"How is the family?" Dana asks.

"Oh you know, just lost their patriarch and struggling with the loss. The boy acts stoic already trying to step into a new role of 'man of the house.'" He sighs as he looks back in the direction of the stairwell, "I suppose they'll be there for a bit."

Robby would never tell a soul this. Not even Abbot. He thought you were beautiful as you cried. How effortless tears slid down your face with a crease in your eyes. Was it weird to imagine you looking at him the same way you looked at your dead husband in the viewing room. There was a part of him that wished he could have been beside you. To be the shoulder for you to cry on. He shakes those thoughts out of his head and goes to find the med-students to discuss the case.

After a half hour, you and your family leave the viewing room. While Robby is busy, you speak to Dana. A funeral home will be coming back to pick up your husband's body. You ask for her to pass along a thank you to Robby before leaving the ED.

Of course, Robby was already eavesdropping so he heard everything. His heartbreaks as he watches you leave. Elijah still looked upset. He wonders what the text message was about that made him clamp up again. He sighs as he disposes those feelings he had and comes to terms that he will probably never see you again.

When he justified his feelings, he should have probably included not seeing your children too.

It was two weeks after your husband passed away in the ED. Elijah and his sister are sitting in North 1 waiting to be seen. Robby recognizes the boys name and takes the case from his resident.

He knocks on the wall and slides open the curtain. There on a stool is the girl, looking just as sad as she did two weeks ago. Her eyes were puffy and tears had dried on her cheeks. Robby gives her a reassuring smile, "Hey Elijah remember me?"

"Sure, the doctor from when dad died here." He mumbles.

"I didn't catch your name sweetheart," Robby looks to the girl. "I'm Dr. Robby."

"Her name is Vivian." Elijah speaks for the girl, "Can we just move this along?"

"Okay," Robby looks at his tablet for his chart, "Alright, based on your x-ray, you definitely broke your knuckle."

"Oh my god, Eli…" Vivian winces, "Mom is gonna be so mad."

"Mom has worse things to worry about." Elijah snaps at the girl then turns to Robby, "So can you fix it?"

"Sure. You'll just need to be in a splint for several weeks. Refrain from using your hand, flexing the knuckle and such. We can clean that up for you and get you some pain meds now."

"Great." Eli says flatly.

"Hey Vivian, the two of you have been waiting here awhile. Why don't you take this," He hands her a five dollar bill, "And get you and Eli a snack. There is a vending machine in the room right next door."

Vivian hesitates for a moment then hops off the stool. She sets her large backpack down and goes to the break room to get the snacks.

Once she's gone, Robby checks over Eli's hand. "Should I see the other guy?" He puts on his gloves and opens the cart for antiseptic and triple antibiotic ointment.

"There was no other guy." Eli winces as he feels Robby put the antiseptic on his cuts.

"Oh I know. Usually a broken knuckle comes from hitting something harder than a head or any other body part. Like a wall, or concrete…"

"It was a concrete wall…" Eli winces again, "Viv and I were at the skate rink."

"No wonder your sister's bag is so bulky. So, what happened? A toddler tripped you during free skate?"

"It's my bag. She's just carrying it for me. It has some of my gear in there." He corrects, "We were practicing. Mornings is figure skating. Afternoon is hockey. I started to get frustrated and I don't know… I just lost it."

"It can be frustrating getting back to the way of life after death," Robby mutters, "But wow, practice in the summer, you two are very devoted."

"Dad drilled it into us." He sighs, "We've been on the ice since we learned how to walk. Now it feels pointless."

"Pointless? You're life is just starting and it already feels pointless?!" Robby chuckles, "It can't be all that bad. This injury isn't a career ender." He sheds off his gloves, "Look, you're not going to feel better overnight, Eli. Take a deep breath and slow down. Or else you'll start to scare people."

Vivian returns with a small bag of chips and two cans of pop. She hands one to Eli and offers the other to Robby. He shakes his head, "You have it, sweetie." He stands up, "Let me get your splint really quick."

Robby goes to the nurse's station and finds a splint for Eli. He returns to find Vivian sitting beside her brother on the bed. Eli has his unharmed hand on her arm to comfort her. Most likely reassuring her. He places the hand splint on, keeping his middle and ring finger straight and covered by the splint. "Alright, good news Viv, your brother gets to live another day."

She smiles, "Thank you Dr. Robby."

"Of course. Now you have to make sure that he follows the home care instructions so he can heal right and get back on the ice."

She nods determined.

"Alright, Eli, you'll have to wear the brace for about four to six weeks. Make sure you aren't moving it around and hitting anymore walls. You can take some ibuprofen for the pain."

"Thanks" Eli gives a small smile. Robby returns the smile and leads them to triage after Eli signs his discharge papers.

"You can come back in a month so we can check on the progress of the healing." Robby pats the boy on the back. The boy nods then follows his sister out of the ED. Robby returns back to the nurse's station. After a few minutes, Vivian returns looking around confused until she spots Robby. "Dr. Robby, I forgot. Here's your change." She hands him back one dollar and fifty cents. "Thank you for the snacks." Her smile warms his heart. It was chump change to him but the thought that she was worried enough to return it made him smile too. He takes it from her.

"Thank you, sweetie. Take care of your brother for me?"

"Yes, sir." She nods assuredly before running back towards triage where her brother was waiting.

"Sweet kids." Dana says, "They're the kids of that MI two weeks ago, aren't they?"

"Elijah and Vivian. They are… strong together. You can tell they rely on each other." He says as he types on the computer, "Continuing on after their dad died."

"Does anybody know who's bag this is?" Perlah sets down a blue backpack on the nurse's station with 'Ice Princess' embroidered on the front, "It was on the couch in the break room."

Robby sighs, "My patient's sister. I didn't even notice her wearing a bag because she had a bigger bag with her brother's stuff. She must of taken it off when I had her go in there for a snack."

"You gonna call them back?" Dana looks over her glasses at him.

"Yeah, hopefully they haven't gone too far." He looks up Elijah's information then pauses. He could call the kids back but he could call you too. If Elijah is not doing so well mentally, who knows how well you're doing. He goes to Elijah's emergency contact information and pulls up your phone number.

He dials the number on his personal phone and goes outside to call. After the second ring, he hears your voice on the other end of the line, "Hello?"

"Hi, this is Dr. Robby at the Pittsburgh Trauma Medical Center. Everything is okay. Your kids were here earlier and your daughter left her backpack here."

"Oh thank goodness. I recognized your voice and thought the worst." You let out a sigh of relief. You recognized his voice. He must have left quite the impression.

"No worries. I can't discuss the purpose of the visit due to HIPAA but the bag will be here if you want to pick it up."

"Yes, Vivian already told me. Elijah… did something to his hand," You let out another sigh, "I can stop by after work to get her bag. I don't want her getting too anxious about it. Thank you for letting me know."

"Alright see you soon." His heart leaps when he hangs up the phone. He tries not to smile as he returns to work. He slides the backpack under the nurse's station counter. "Their mom will be coming by to pick it up."

Dana gives him a suspicious glance, "Please don't tell me you're crushin' on a fresh widow."

"I am not. I know better than that." He bites his lip.

Just because he knew better didn't mean he wouldn't indulge himself. He felt this magnetic pull to you and your kids. He felt genuine worry when Elijah's name appeared on the status board. He sees distraught every day but the look on Viv's face was permanently etched in his mind. He never wanted to see her like that again

Then there was you. He wanted to know more about you. Be around you. Know what your husband fell in love with. Sleep next to you and wake up the next morning—

"Dr. Robby? May we present a case to you?" A voice snaps him out of his train of thought.

"Go ahead." He diverts his attention back to work.

It isn't until 6pm that you arrive. Robby sent you a text message about coming in through the ambulance bay instead of the front door. You were dressed in slacks and a nice blouse. You must work in an office downtown. Robby smiles when he sees you and pulls out the backpack. "Here you are."

"Oh perfect!" You sigh, "I'm so grateful these were in good hands. Skates are so expensive these days."

"I can imagine. Did you skate?"

"No, my husband was big into hockey. He played in college. Elijah plays hockey and Viv does figure skating." You sling the bag over your shoulder and Robby walks with you outside. You laugh a bit, "It's funny, he was kinda disappointed that he didn't get two boys to play and he thought he could try to teach Viv but she hated the gear too much."

"At least they still like the ice. Elijah told me, they've been on skates since they were little."

"Yeah, we live in Fox Chapel and there is a pond that freezes in the winter nearby. As soon as Eli could walk, my husband got him toddler skates to run around the ice on. And then they were passed down to Viv." You suck your teeth, "It's in their blood."

"Now, Fox Chapel, that's a pretty nice neighborhood."

"Uh, yeah, I work at an architect firm downtown and my husband was a software engineer for one of the big tech companies there too… I feel like I am just talking your ear off. You were just returning my daughter's backpack."

"It's not a problem. I am happy to listen." He purses his lip, "Do you have anybody to talk to about what happened? A therapist or counselor of some kind?"

"I do! And the kids do too. Outside of that, the world seems to just keep spinning. The funeral has already come and past. The facebook messages have slowed to a trickle. Family members asking for certain stuff of his…" Your eyes look off into the distance.

"Well, if you'd like, you do have my personal number, you can call or text me about anything." Robby's ears turn pink as he waits for your response with bated breath.

"Really? That would be okay?" You look at him with a smile, "I appreciate it. You've impressed Elijah today, you know."

"Have I?"

"He's been having a hard time getting back into hockey. Today was his first day back on the ice. His dad had him going to practice over summer and he didn't know if he wanted to keep doing it. He told me he wasn't going to get better overnight so he was going to try the later camp in August… Those were your words, right?"

"They were, I mean, his coach could have said them too but I knew that he was sulking." He shrugs, "I told him something I heard when I was a kid."

"Thank you for talking to him. I know he misses his dad's pep talks and was happy to hear that." You stop next to your car on the corner, "This is me. I'll uh, shoot you a text later."

"Sure, anytime." Robby clenches his fist refraining from touching you, "You have a good night. Get home safe."

You enter the car and wave at him before pulling off. He watches your car turn down the street and disappear into traffic. He lets out a deep breath before walking back to the hospital. He imagines what your house looks like. Fox Chapel was very nice with million dollar homes. He bets your yard was huge, and secluded, surrounded by trees. Private driveway away from the street. A big house that had to have at least 3 bedrooms… He could look it up but then that would ruin the surprise when you subsequently invite him over later on. He can't be impatient.

Months go by and your relationship with Robby grows. You text him every so often through out the day. You told him about the meaningless things. A meeting running too long, boring you out of your mind. Or a picture of lunch from the bistro next to your firm. Then you started sending him videos of your kids during their training camp. Vivian landing a triple axel or Elijah finally getting comfortable back on the ice.

You came with Elijah to his follow up appointment in the ED. His knuckle was feeling better so he took off the splint. That week he was back on the ice and you sent Robby a video of it. The first of many. Robby does the check up and you feel yourself getting nervous watching him.

You hadn't felt this way in decades. There was the butterflies in your stomach with the squeezing guilt in your heart. Like what you were doing was wrong. It was only a month ago that your husband passed away.

But you didn't stop and things started to get even more personal. You were calling him at night after your kids had gone to sleep. You'd be sitting on your couch with a glass of wine and talking for a few hours before bed. He had you smiling at your phone. Wishing you good night and sending you good morning the next day. Was that so bad?

On his off days, he would come with you to the ice rink where they practiced. You would all go out to dinner afterward. He would buy you all ice cream on a hot day. He was filling a deep whole in your heart with such finesse. You could almost forget the ache in your heart your husband left behind.

One night, you were left by yourself; your kids both had plans with their friends and chose to spend the night away from home. Your house was too big to be there alone. You text Robby to ask if he has any dinner plans and if he'd like to join you out for the night. You emphasize that it would be casual and that you just didn't want to be alone at home. Not that anything was wrong at home it was just lonely. Not that anything was wrong with being lonely you just hated being alone. He responds before you ramble on a paragraph more. "Yes, I would love to. I get off work at 7" He simply writes.

Fireworks shoot off above your head at the acceptance. You smile at the message and respond, "I'll meet you in the park across from the hospital. I know a place we can go." He sends a thumbs up and you take a deep breath trying to calm your nerves.

At 7, you sit on a bench and wait for Robby to get off work. You see him approach the bench and you can't help but smile. You can only see his silhouette under the park lights until he gets closer but there he was "Good evening, Doctor."

"Good evening." He smiles, "I hope I haven't kept you waiting."

"Not at all. I hope you're hungry." You bounce up from the bench.

"Famished." He pats his stomach. "Lead the way."

The two of you walk side by side. You talk sheepishly about your day. Usually you were in bed, talking on and on over the phone. You assumed he was probably preparing for bed himself, not really paying attention. But as you talk you feel his eyes on you. They rarely leave you to look ahead.

You arrive at a small hole-in-the-wall dive bar just a few blocks from the hospital. "I know it doesn't look like much but this place has the best cheese bread I've ever head. With a pint of beer it's basically heaven."

"I'll take your word for it." He opens the door for you.

It was small with an antique looking bar with old brass stools attached. A few booths line the far end and high tables surround the televisions as they play a baseball game. You lead Robby to one of the booths and order the bread immediately.

"Did you come here often with your husband?" He asks.

"Uh no actually." You hold back a laugh, "I had an internship on this side of the river when I was young. I'd be so high strung, I'd wander into whatever place would take me. I stumbled upon this place and fell in love. It was my little secret. He, uh, he never knew about it."

Robby refrains from smiling. You invited him in on your private place. A place your husband didn't even know about. What did that make Robby?

"I'm happy that you let me in on your secret."

"It's not that big of a deal," You wave it off, "It's near the hospital. I didn't even think about it until… uh— it doesn't matter. What are you drinking?"

"Whatever is on tap is fine" He purses his lips.

You stand up quickly and go to the bar to order. You rest your hand on your cheek as you feel your face burning up. An innocent invitation became more complicated. Well, it wasn't that innocent. You were thinking about Robby. You wanted him to keep you company because you have no one. You wanted Robby.

You are brought back to reality when a home run is hit and the bar patrons shout in excitement. The bartender sets down the two pints and you take them back to your table.

When you return, the cheese bread had arrived and the two of you dig in. Robby moans in satisfaction, "You're right it is delicious."

"I am glad you like it!" You say as you chew.

As you eat, you start to feel the buzz of your beer. "So, Dr. Robby, you would consider us friends, right?"

"Yes." Even though he felt it starting to become something more.

"Okay, tell me your juicy deets. I feel like I'm the one always talking."

"Well, I like listening to you."

It almost doesn't register to you. A passive flirtatious comment. You bite back a smile, "You won't get away that easy. So, tell me what was your last long term relationship?"

"Does the kale in the back of my fridge count?"

"Absolutely not." You giggle.

He leans back and sighs, "They, uh, don't usually last that long. I've kinda been on my own recently. I like it though. Being alone… with my thoughts."

"Convincing."

He shrugs as his defense, "I have friends to keep me company."

You give him a knowing smile, "Right, friends that bother you for dinner after a 12 hour shift. Who wouldn't want friends like that?"

"I would. It gets me out of my comfort zone."

"Oh yeah? A dive bar on a Friday night is out of your comfort zone?" You gulp down more of your beer.

"Being social is out of my comfort zone." He leans forward, "Listening, instead of talking. I find excitement in what you consider mundane."

Your heart feels like thunder in your chest. Your face and neck burned hot. You tap your nails against your glass and you take a breath, "I think you're trying to say that I'm not boring, but I'm not too sure."

"I am! I am, I promise." He nods, "I wouldn't hurt your feelings on purpose. Not after you showed me your holy grail."

"Greasy cheese bread is not my holy grail." You laugh.

"Well, now it's mine. I am telling everyone about this place."

"No! My secret spot. You can't." You pretend to pout, "I don't want this place over run with twenty-somethings."

"Weren't you a twenty-something when you found this place?" He chuckles.

"Stop ruining this for me!" You rest your head on the table.

The two of you continue to laugh and drink the rest of the night. You drink a way more than Robby does and feel your tipsy turn to drunk after your 3rd pint. As soon as you step out into the humid air of the August heat, you realize how fucked you were.

"Shit." You mumble, "I really don't want to leave my car here." You open your phone to order an Uber.

"I can take you home." Robby sees you stumble and holds your waist to keep you upright, "Give me your keys."

"Are you sure? I'd hate to trap you at my house." He wouldn't mind, "You can stay the night. I can take you home in the morning to make it up to you."

"It's fine." He takes your keys from your hand, "Let's just get you home in one piece."

You guide Robby to your car and he helps you into the car. You can smell his cologne on his skin. It has faded from the day but you could still get a whiff. It was less pungent than your husband's. A woody musk like rain in the forest. Where as your husband smelled like squeaky clean soap. It would give you a headache with its potency.

Your address is put in the GPS and you watch Robby drive you home. He was similar to your husband. Smart, responsible, and kind hearted but there were things that set the two of them apart. The way he listened so intently to you. He looked at you with soft eyes compared to sharp ones you were used to. You imagine what it would be like to see those eyes looking down at you in bed…

You quickly turn your head to face the window and roll down the window to get some air. You take a few big gulps as you try to swallow your arousal. You should not be thinking those thoughts just a month after your husband died.

You arrive at you home and direct Robby to just leave the car in the drive way instead in one of the two garages attached to the house. Robby was right, your house was just as big as he imagined, possibly bigger.

He helps you out of the car and he unlocks the door for you. He takes it all in looking at all the decorations. In the foyer are several family photos. School pictures, vacations, sports, graduations. "You've got a master's?"

"Uh huh, MBA, I went back to school when Viv was in kindergarten. We were going to school together." You smile. Robby follows you to your vast open concept kitchen, "Now this is my holy grail." You pour a cup of water and chug it, "It took a year of convincing my husband and another year to complete it."

Robby looks around the room at how nice it was, "I can definitely see why it is." A place he could get used to.

You pour him a cup of water as well, "Here, let me show you where you will sleep." You beckon him back to the foyer. A door sits at the bottom of the stairs. You open the door, "This is the guest bedroom. It has a bathroom attached so you don't have to worry about getting lost in the middle of the night."

"Thank you." He looks into the room then up the stairs. "Can you get up the stairs by yourself?"

You purse your lips and squint, "Good question. Let's not risk it." You slide your hand around Robby's back and his hand holds your shoulder. The two of you take to the stairs slowly. You nearly fall towards the top.

"Down this way is my room." You point Robby in the direction. He opens the door to find that your room is about twice the size of the guest bedroom. Your bed was massive.

"Wow…" He mumbles.

"I know, it's a king size. My husband insisted on it. I practically drown in it all by myself." You giggle. Robby sets you down on the bed and helps you out of your shoes, "God, you are so kind. How am I gonna repay you?"

He can think of a few ways but he doesn't say anything. He sets your shoes to the side and looks up at you. You rest your hand on his cheek and rubs your thumb over his scruff. Robby licks his lips. He doesn't want to interrupt your train of thought right now.

You lean down and press a kiss onto his lips. He hesitates before hold your wrist keeping you close. You deepen the kiss before pulling away, "We can't…" But you don't move away. You move in again, you pull him up to sit beside you as you two continue to kiss.

"It's okay, you're drunk. Emotions are running high." A kiss. "We can just hold each other." You're not stopping him; another kiss. "Pretend this never happened." He helps you swing your legs onto the bed and crawls between them as you move to the center of your bed.

You moan into his mouth as you continue. It's been so long since you've been touched. His fingers ignites fire on your skin. He moves down and kisses your neck. Your hands move to chest then over his back and through his hair.

"Michael~" You moan.

Robby moans in response. The first time you call him that is when he is on top of you, in your bedroom. You will be the death of him.

He starts to undo your blouse and underneath is a black lace bralette underneath. His kisses down your chest and sucks on the fat of your breast peeking under the lace. You sit up and rip it off. You then pull off Robby's shirt and kiss his neck to his chest. He grabs your shoulders and lays you back down, "Tonight is all about you." He kisses down your stomach and takes off your pants and underwear.

You black out the rest of the night. You wake up the next morning to Robby laying beside you. The both of you naked. What have you done? It hasn't even been 6 months since your husband died and you already have a man shacked up in your house. You feel the guilt in your chest but you can't bring yourself to cry. You stare at Robby's back and smile as you think back to the night before. You stay there for a few minutes more before getting dressed in fresh clothes and leaving the room.

Later in the morning, when Robby wakes up, he has a sick smile on his face. The feeling of your lips were still on his. He replays the night before over and over in his mind. He gets dressed again and comes down the stairs and finds you are silently cooking in the kitchen.

Robby sits at the kitchen island, "Good morning." He speaks up.

"Good morning, avocado toast or lox on a bagel?" You hold out two plates

"Lox please." He takes the plate from you to see along with the bagel is some scrambled eggs and bacon. "Thank you."

Neither of you speak as you eat together. You have no idea what to say. You wonder what was he thinking about? You can explain it to him that you have been lonely and that was reason you were so forward. You didn't want to ruin this relationship. You liked Robby.

But you had no idea that Robby liked you too. More than that. He wanted to do more things with you— to you. In the corner of his eye, he watches you fidget as you panic internally. He decides to speak, "Look about last night, you were drunk. You didn't have control of your impulses and that's okay. We can forget it even happened." He was never going to forget.

You swallow your bite of food, "I am really sorry about that. I don't usually get drunk like that. It's just been a while since… you know."

He smiles, "It's okay. It's all a part of a process."

You smile in return, "You are so kind, Robby. It's ridiculous."

"I am here for you. Also, you still kinda need to take me home so I don't want to burn the bridge too soon," He jokes. You laugh and pat his shoulder.

"Finish your breakfast and I will take you home." You finish your own food and place it in the sink.

Your relationship stabilizes after that but Robby doesn't want to take any chances. He gives you your space and only answers when you call. It wasn't often, you seemed to scare yourself with your behavior. But your kids were none the wiser which meant they had no ill-will with Robby.

In the middle of November, Eli sends a message to Robby. He got the man's phone number off of his mom's phone. He invites Robby to one of his hockey games during the month. Robby agrees to come.

At the rink, he looks around and doesn't see you around the stands. He comes over to the home box and finds Eli. "Robby! You made it!" Eli beams reminiscent to your own smile.

"Where's you mom?" Robby asks.

"Oh, Viv got sick so she's at home."

"Oh no, does she need anything?" He asks.

"It's a fever but mom says she's doing okay now." Eli says. "The game is about to start. I'll see you after." He puts on his helmet and the teams both get on the ice.

For a high school game, it was still an impressive game. Eli's team won 2-1. Due to Eli's size and speed, he played center. Robby remembered the boy mentioning that he was put in the new position for the season. And as you had mentioned a few of the mom's were not too happy about it since he had missed the camp with the rest of the team earlier in the summer.

Outside of the rink, Eli comes out and daps Robby pulling him in for a hug. "Thanks for coming, Robby. What did you think?"

"You are incredible, kid. I've never seen action like that. You have killer control." He pats his back.

"Thanks, coach is going to call some scouts from Toronto and Michigan. He thinks I have some potential."

"You definitely due. Your dad would be proud."

Eli doesn't respond to the statement and just smiles. It quickly fades when he sees a vehicle drive up. "Eli, sweetie, I am so sorry. My car is all filled up. Will you be okay getting home?"

"Uh—"

"He'll be fine. You have a good one." Robby squeezes his shoulder and waves the woman off. "Don't worry, kid, I'll take you home."

"That happens more often than you think." He mutters.

"Don't let it get to you. When you get to college, you'll be with teammates that will support you without the drama. Let's get some soup for your sister before we go home."

"Thanks Robby." Eli smiles.

In the car on the way to your house Robby speaks, "How is your mom doing?"

"She's doing okay. She's been looking kinda nervous recently though. She stares at her phone alot."

"I hope everything is okay."

"I'm sure it's fine. She likes to overreact about things. She never lets herself have fun."

"How come?"

"My dad…" Eli stares ahead into the darkness, "He had an image he wanted us to uphold and my mom was like a caged bird. The only time she ever looked happy was when he was away. At the rink or at home if he wasn't there she could be herself." He looks down at his own phone, "Even as he was hurting, he texted me to make sure my mom dropped us off on time to camp. She was worried about him and he could care less."

Robby just sits and listens.

"I can't remember the last time he said 'I love you' to her." Eli shakes his head, "I don't want to end up like him."

"You know not to." Robby speaks, "You see it now and know that isn't the way a woman you love should be treated."

"Yeah, it should be how you treat her."

Robby blinks a few times.

"I see the way you look at my mom, I'm not stupid. You listen to her talk and you laugh at her cheesy jokes. She's able to be herself around you. I think she feels like she's betraying my dad but I don't really care. I think she should."

Robby bites back a smile then chuckles, "Is this you giving me approval?"

"I guess so. You already had Viv's approval when you started coming to her practices. Dad wouldn't even do that."

Soon they arrive to your house. Eli takes his gear out of Robby's car and opens the garage door. "Thank you for the ride, Robby."

"Anytime kid." He smiles as they enter the garage and find you and Viv on the couch in the living room.

"Robby! Hi, what happened?"

"Rochelle, fucked me over, again." Eli sighs.

"Language, Eli." You hiss. "I'm sorry to that happened. Robby brought you home?"

"Yeah, he came to my game. It was nice that someone was there since you weren't able to come. We brought soup home for Viv."

"Oh how sweet. Thank you, Robby."

"Thanks Robby!" Viv gets up and takes the soup from Robby.

"No worries, you look better already, sweetie."

"Is it bad that I was hoping to get worse so I could go to the ER?" She asks.

"Yes. Very bad." He chuckles.

His eyes then land on you. You are already looking at him. Neither of you say a word. Your eyes tell him everything. You want him to stay. He wants to stay.

"I'm going to shower." Eli rushes up the stairs.

"Wash your hair!" You shout after him.

Viv walks out of the kitchen with a big mug, "I'm going to eat this upstairs and take my medicine. Goodnight Robby! Goodnight Momma!"

"Goodnight…" You both say.

You stand up, "Would you like to sit in the sunroom with me for a bit before you go?"

"Sure." He follows after you through the breakfast nook and into your indoor patio space. Although it was cold outside, it was insulated and warm inside. You sit on the couch and pat the cushion next to you.

"Thanks again for bringing Eli home. He feels guilty when he has to Uber home." You pick at your nails.

"Of course, he doesn't deserve that kind of treatment." He looks out in your yard at the fresh snowfall.

"Yeah, those women think they're building the next Penguins team."

"Training team." He mutters.

"I say that too," You laugh for a moment then turn to him, "Robby, I… I wanted to talk about the other night."

"Oh. Look, it's okay to have extreme feelings during grief especially when you're drunk—"

"I don't want you to explain it away. I don't want to run away from what I was feeling." You shift your body so you're facing him, "I like you, Robby. I enjoy your company, the way you are with my kids, and I am attracted to you. It felt like a betrayal because you aren't like my husband but I think that's why it doesn't affect me in a visceral way either; You make me feel like myself in a way I haven't been in a long time. My kids see it too. They think I'm fun." You laugh at yourself, "They never thought that before."

He laughs with you, "I am happy I can do that for you." He places his hand on the side of your face. "Because I can't stop thinking about that night. I could never forget it."

You lean in and capture his lips in a kiss, "Me neither. It was driving me crazy." You go back in for a hungrier kiss. You draw closer to him as you two continue, "I don't think I can live without you, Michael."

He smiles as he feels a chill down his spine. "I don't think I can either."

Some time in January, at work Robby takes a half day, Abbot comes in to cover him, "What is the occasion?" He asks.

"I am going out to Fox Chapel to play some pond hockey for a bit." He packs up his things, "I'm going to go change."

Abbot furrows his brows, "Fox Chapel? Who do you know out there?"

"His new girlfriend." Dana whispers.

Why has his friend never mentioned this new girlfriend? Abbot leans into Dana, "Who is she?"

"A patient's widow from over the summer. He won't talk about it but I've seen her coming and going more and more often." She whispers, "He said every thing was fine but turned around and is involved with her family."

"Family?"

"Two kids. High school hockey star and a figure skater." She says.

Abbot feels his stomach sink. He's heard this story before. A family, a big house, two kids. Robby was living a life that didn't belong to him.

Robby comes out of the bathroom changed and heads out through the ambulance bay, "Have a good night guys." Abbot follows after him.

Before he can speak, he sees a car pull up to the door. You roll down the window and smile, "Hello Handsome." Robby leans in and kisses you.

"You guys ready?"

The back window rolls down and a teenage boy sticks his head out, "Ready to dust your ass old man."

"Uh oh. Better put your money where your mouth is kid." He points the walks to the other side of the car.

You notice Abbot and smile, "We'll bring him back in one piece, promise."

"Speak for yourself." Eli retorts.

"Thanks Abbot!" Robby shouts from the passenger seat and you drive away.

Abbot watches on in displace. The stars had aligned and put Robby in the perfect position to take that family. Abbot didn't know if it was admiration, jealousy, or disgust that he was feeling at the sheer audacity Robby had.

It was his family now.

˖⋆࿐໋₊ ☆

thank you for reading! likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Growing older really takes away some sparks.

While Americans are out there in their backyards, having a barbecue or a nice little pool party in this July heat, you're in here, clocking in for a shift in hell, aka the ED of PTMC.

And just a few years ago, you would've been home, helping your mom decorate the backyard. Or helping your dad move all the beer into the fridge in the garage. But the Fourth of July doesn't mean the same to you anymore. Not after you moved away.

At the ripe age of 21 you packed your bags after finishing med school and drove until you settled here in Pittsburgh, started at the Pitt as an intern all the way to now a third year resident. And fuck, these halls have seen you in many stages of life. But you're proud to say it never got to see you in one particular phase.

The 'I met a man and he's the one and I'm so dependent on him' phase.

God forbid you even thought that way. You might've left home but the words your mother taught you always remained in the back of your skull. To never depend on anyone. Especially on men. And well, the first step of independence started for you at 21 years old.

The day you stopped being daddy's little girl, put your big girl pants on and moved out with a barely functioning car, a dream and a prayer marked the beginning of a new era.

And now, independent, out of that small town you find yourself having a successful life. But a successful life doesn't always mean a contented life.

"Man...it has been a while and I'm solo this weekend...I need to get laid." Mckay sighs, standing next to you at the nurse's desk. Mohand glares at her after just having complained about how her mother followed lust rather than love.

Cassie presses her lips into a straight line and looks back down at the computer in front of her.

You however laugh. "Yeah, like sex will fix everything."

"Well, it does relieve the stress."

"Oh, I'm sure of that," you start and type the last few words into your tablet. "But, there is much more stress following. So, let's say you find the right one, then what? He invites you to dinner on the next day but you've been ignoring how much you actually hate him for the last few hours just because you wanted to get some." You say, turning to her as your side leans against the desk.

It's McKay's turn to glare.

"Didn't know you were this heated about this." She quirks her brow.

"Well, Cassie, life isn't always about getting through the night. You keep living for the night and you're gonna wake up next to a six foot problem that won't leave your side because he thinks he has claimed you for life just cause you gave him a blow job."

Samira's jaw aches a bit from how her mouth remains slightly open. Cassie just chuckles, it's not usual for you to talk like this. So vulgar, so pent up. But it's true. You're frustrated, desperate. You haven't had sex in ages. Let alone good sex.

"That's why you tell him that it's casual from the first second," McKay adds.

"I tried." You shrug. "Oh, please, let me come over baby. I will fuck you so good you will think twice about casual by the time I'm done with you." You dramatically clasp your hands together and plead. That earns even a chuckle from Samira.

"The whole thing is that men just assume they can stick around just cause they were able to make you come, which you didn't. You faked it because after two minutes of rude rubbing and grunting all you wanted to do was to just go home and block his contact everywhere."

"Okay, you totally ruined my mood now." Mckay nods, fumbles with the necklace around her neck. You smile smugly, look at her and she mirrors you. You both laugh a little and look over to Samira.

"A little too much before 8AM, huh?" Cassie scrunches her face.

"Yeah, definitely too much talking when you have patients waiting." A sharp combination of hands clapping against each other and Robby's voice sends shivers down your spine.

"Dr. Robby." You turn around and look up at him.

"This emergency department cares about patient satisfaction scores, not about your sexual satisfaction. So, please..keep that to yourself. Now," he clasps his hands together. "Will you be able to treat your patients or do some rude rubbing and grunting for 2 minutes until your patient fakes their satisfaction just to get out of here and find a better hospital?"

You look around to McKay and Mohan, to see if what you're hearing is real. It is.

"N-no, no..I'll be good." You nod.

"Good. Now go." His mocking smile is wide and makes your cheeks heat up as you walk off with your tablet tucked under your arm.

Mckay clears her throat and quickly logs off the computer, walks away from the awkward situation. Now, only Mohan and Robby remain at their spots. "Whatever." She mumbles and Robby walks off too.

After that, things go unusually slow. Robby glares at you more than usual. Of course he does. You just ranted about how unsatisfied and sexually frustrated you were and your boss out of all people heard all about it.

Every time you slipped up, made a small mistake he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. And each time a layer of blush crept into your skin. Was this some sick joke? Blaming every minor mistake on your failing sexual life? Making you sweat each time upon hearing that click of his tongue like Pavlov's dog.

Like a slow drag the 7th hour of your shift moved in and so did a gurney, Attending Physician Jack Abbot, who was supposed to be off today right beside but not dressed in usual scrubs but rather in tactical gear. Sadly, you had other patients and even if you didn't, you wouldn't go running to assist as you saw Robby stand there in trauma one. He'd only find the right opening to humiliate you even further.

You know Jack. Everyone knows him. Veteran, Night shifts attending. He keeps on doing overtime, staying behind even after handoff sometimes. So, if you only work days, you'd still know him. You've worked nights before, but switched back to days shortly after your first rotation.

Something about the night just changes patients, makes you want to put in your two weeks' notice and quit.

During the few shifts together Jack Abbot was a good attending. Hovering during traumas, making someone know that he is there if you need him but not exactly stepping in at the slightest shake of your hands. Just a simple "you got it" from this man was enough to steady shaky hands.

And of course, he was good looking. This made you think twice about quitting and rather pouncing on him at 7AM handoffs.

Whatever. It was never something that serious. Just a little crush. Guess that's automatic for you. You see an old man with some salt and pepper who just naturally slips into the role of a mentor. It's just something about the way you can tell how much older they are than you when you're talking. Does the job.

And that gear he has on? That definitely does the job. Makes you wonder how long it would take to take it off. You're pulled out of your thoughts when the test results you came to the nurses' desk for blink in the inbox of the computer in front of you.

Later, you're rubbing disinfectant between your palms as you pass an examination room, the door wide open. You stop dead in your tracks. Was that Jack? Pulling the curtain closed behind him?

Without much thought you walk into the room, open the curtain enough to walk in.

Jack Abbot, like some Greek god, pulls his shirt over his head, back muscles flexing. He turns his head at the sound of your steps.

"Oh- shit, sorry." You mumble and turn to leave but notice the wound on his shoulder.

"Are you alright?"

Jack clears his throat. "Yeah. A bullet grazed my shoulder." He says, as if it's a casual thing to say.

"God, and you didn't think about telling anyone?" You cross your arms over your chest, circling him where he sits on the bed, inspecting the wound more closely. Jack reaches back with a cotton swab but huffs as he isn't able to really reach the wound.

"It's nothing bad. Just need to cover it. Didn't open up a chart. I want this to stay off the record. Want to go home with no paperwork for once." He grunts as he tries to reach back once more.

"Wait, I'll help." You put on gloves and take the swab from him.

"So, did you sew back any fingers together yet?" He asks, crossing his arms over his naked chest, freckled skin over his bicep stretching along with the muscle itself.

"Plenty." You mumble, focusing on the wound as you take care of it.

"Im glad im off. Would've been a mess tonight."

"Think Shen will handle it?"

"Dr. Shen will have to handle it." His lips curl up to a smile.

"You celebrating tonight?" You ask.

"Yeah, something like that." His voice is raspy.

"Like what? Loud music, beer and barbecue in the backyard and a few fireworks to end the night?" You smirk. He would take barbecue duty seriously too. Beer in one hand, wearing a cap to hide away from too much sun, tongs in the other hand, flipping sausages on the grill.

"Not really going for that." Jack snorts. "What? You're not that level of patriotic then?" "I am, to a reasonable level. What about you? How patriotic do you get?" He turns his head a bit to look back at you.

"My dad used to invite over lots of people, many of whom I didn't know who they were. His work friends would slip me a beer when he wasn't looking because I was still underage. But I don't celebrate anymore. Not since moving out. My mom still invites me. But, well, it's complicated. My Dad still holds this grudge against me for moving out."

Jack chuckles. "So what? You were daddy's little girl or something like that?"

"Yeah, something like that. Had to grow up one day." You laugh. "Right. Had to put on your big girl pants and leave, did you?"

Was he speaking after glancing into your mind or how did he know what exactly to say?

"Yeah, that's how it went." You smirk.

He laughs. It's making it hard for you to take care of the wound carefully. You accidentally jab him. He grunts.

"That's what you get." You shake your head. "Now stay still."

"Thought you were born independent, actually."

You press your lips into a thin line and finish up by covering the wound. Jack stands up and tosses away the things splayed over the sheet he had laid out earlier. You take off your gloves and toss them into the bin.

"So, you're alone tonight?" He asks, turning to look at you, still very shirtless. You lean back against the wall and nod. Hair a bit of a mess from moving around all day.

"I'm cooking tonight. If you want, you can come over. We could catch up a bit. I could convince you to switch to nights again. You worked well with the nightcrawlers." He quirks his head to the side.

"That food has to be really good to do some convincing." You smile smugly.

It's not everyday where you get invited to dinner, and also you don't really want to be alone all the damn time. It's a good opportunity to have some good food and a nice chat with someone who was good to talk to. You'd also curse yourself if you missed out on a night at Jack Abbot's house.

"Yeah, sure. I'll come over."

"Good. Oh, and Robby will be there too." He says.

Your eyes twitch just slightly. He's not facing you anymore to see it, gladly. He grabs his T-shirt and pulls it over his head. Just as you're about to talk, make up an excuse saying that you actually had some plans you forgot about a voice cuts you off.

"Mr. Diaz!" Samira's voice is loud and she yanks the curtains wide open. And instead of her patient, there you are, leaning against the wall, hair a mess. And then of course Jack Abbot, pulling on his shirt. In the hall, Robby passes by, brows furrowed at the sight. You scratch the back of your neck.

"I should.." you point to the door and creep away.

By the end of the shift, you've taken your hair out of the restricting hair tie, massaging your scalp as your forehead presses against the cool desk. You're so sick of sunburnt and dehydrated people today and you're already doing 3 hours of overtime due to the power outage.

You rub at your face, scalp, anything to relieve the pain but your aches don't go away. It's because you know what awaits you. You're feeling down because of Robby, and now your ass has gotten you into a situation where you will have to stay with him after hours. What a fucking day.

You gather your hair together into a ponytail and write your last chart for the day. Finally. Having done it a thousand times already you chart quickly, typing with efficiency. And soon, you're finally done. Now you just need to get to the bus and drive home.

You stretch, say your goodbyes. The others decide to go to the rooftop together to watch the fireworks but you don't know if you'll be able to keep yourself from going insane if you stay more than absolutely necessary in this hell hole. You go to the lockers, grab your bag and walk through the exit of the ED. Finally.

"Ah-ah." A click of the tongue makes you stop.

"You're going over to Jack's place too, right?"

You turn around. "Yeah. Why?"

"Come with me. You take the bus. Let me give you a ride."

"No, I gotta go home first-"

"No, come on. He's been waiting. His patience wears off."

"But you drive that motorcycle. I'm not getting on that."

Robby sighs. "That's why you're so frustrated. Have some fun for once. Come on. I'll drive slowly." He says as he walks over to said bike, tapping the seat, motioning for you to get over.

You mumble a bit, but then walk over. Swing one leg over the motorcycle and look at Robby. Robby smiles widely and chuckles. He puts the helmet in his hand on your head, secures it and taps his knuckle on the hard shell once. Then, he gets on too. Your front presses fully against his back. He reaches back, grabs your arms and wraps them around his waist.

Your fingers grab onto the material of his jacket, feeling the softness of his tummy under it.

"Hold on tight." He warns.

And by the time you arrive, standing at Jack's front door your legs are still wobbly. Bastard. I'll drive slowly, my ass. Your hair is even messier now. You run your fingers through it. The neighbourhood is loud. American flags hang outside, swaying in the wind.

There is loud music playing a few yards over. The smell of barbecue is familiar in your nose too.

The Door opens. "Finally." Jack grunts, steps aside and lets the both of you in.

And it goes by smoother than you think. You eat dinner, steak. It's delicious too. What else is Jack Abbot so damn good at? Does he have to be perfect in everything he does?

By the time you're done eating, no one moves to clean up, stand up and go home. You're talking comfortably. But then, what you've been dreading the whole day happens.

"Did you really mean that? That thing you were talking about with McKay and Mohan." Robby looks at you, a smile from previous laughs shared lingering on his face.

Your smile however drops in embarrassment. Of course, he had to bring it up.

"Can we not?"

"What? What did I miss?"

"A lot.", "Nothing." You both say at the same time.

"Did you know-" Robby turns over to Jack. "No, Robby. I got it. Gonna keep it away from work next time, alright?" You interrupt.

Jack snorts. "I really gotta know now."

"Turns out she's been out there acting all tough because she couldn't find the one to make her come in bed."

Your face scrunches together.

"What? That's so not what I said-"

"S'that true?" Jack raises his brows.

"No...kinda. It's really more than that. He's just trying to embarrass me the whole day."

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about in here, alright? Whats wrong. You can tell me." He glares at Robby. "Us."

"It's just..ever since I moved out, I have this feeling that I have to prove to everyone that I can keep to myself. But really, that's just making me end up alone and miserable."

"She's been getting disappointed during hook-ups. Faking orgasms." Robby oversimplifies your answer.

"You.." you scoff, burying your hand in your face.

"Faking orgasms? Why? That's not good, you know that right?"

"I know. They were just not able to get it done."

"She said she gets sick of them after two minutes," Robby adds.

"Sounds to me like you're impatient."

"Im not impatient. I know what I want." You nod.

This conversation was getting too much by the second. A total HR violation.

"You do?" Robby quirks his brows.

"What do you want?" Jack asks.

Sitting across from you they glare at you. And you're aware enough to tell that the energy has shifted long ago.

God bless America! Your lungs almost scream out as they scramble for air. How the hell did this happen? You sit on Jack's bed, both of the attendings on each of your sides, taking turns claiming your lips. Robby's beard scratches your neck as he assaults the skin roughly. Not in an obnoxious angry way. Rather the good kind. Jack's lips are hungry against yours, fighting back the dominance you've built up for years.

They both part from you, breathing heavily.

"What do you want?" Robby asks, and Jack's hand squeezes your thigh.

"I want you." You huff.

"We know that already," Jack says and Robby snorts.

Jack glances at Robby for a split second and moves his hand from your thigh over to the hem of your shirt. "Up." He says and on command, your arms move up and he pulls the fabric up and tosses it away. His hands move to the clasp of your bra. He fumbles with it and it finally opens. He strips the straps off your shoulders and the fabric joins your shirt on the floor.

"Lie back," Robby says. And you do it. You lie down, arms at your sides. You shift your head and look at them. They scan how soft your breasts look. But they don't touch. Not yet.

Robby's hands go to the waistband of your pants and he pulls them down, along with your panties, and tosses them away.

Both of their breaths hitch.

"So pretty." Jack's voice rumbles in his throat.

"Should've told us earlier. That's why you're so tense at work?" Robby's gaze is so intense you roll your head away from their gaze.

It's lewd, how you lie naked in front of both of your attendings like this. Who would've thought?

"Come on, spread your legs. Been waiting for too long." Jack says, tapping your knee.

"Look, told you he gets impatient. You don't want him to get mean. Show us."

You swallow down a lump in your throat and do as they say. You spread your thighs apart, let them get a full look at how wet you are.

Robby looks over to Jack and their lips tug up into smirks.

"Now touch yourself. Show us how you make yourself come." Robby locks his eyes on yours, staring so intensely with those brown eyes. Jack however can't tear his eyes away from the spot between your thighs. And god, you see him leaning in slightly but stopping himself.

This is supposed to be about you. Taking care of you. He fights himself from burying his face right between your thighs and making you come on his tongue until it makes up for the years of dissatisfaction. He wants to spoil you so bad. Maybe once again you'd take the role of daddy's little girl for him. And Robby, of course.

Your lips tremble in embarrassment. "I can't." You whine, pressing your thighs together. Your body shudders as you take a deep breath.

"Come on, baby. You gotta show us what you want first. You said that men don't get the job done for you, did you not? Come on. You gotta help us out here." Jack scoots closer on the bed, gripping your knee with his warm and rough hand.

"You're a big girl, you can do it." Robby touches your other knee, leans in and presses a kiss onto the skin of your leg. Slowly, they both pry open your thighs softly, not like you're putting up a fight. No, you let them. Maybe that's all you need. To know that they're there. Always by your side. Ready to catch you if you fall. Ready to touch you when you need to feel them.

You take a deep breath and move your hand between your thighs. The skin catches on your tummy on the way down, the silent sound of skin sliding across skin loud in the intense room. Then, your fingers move in slow circles.

Your face scrunches up, lips still trembling from utter shame. It really has been a while. And this? This is completely new territory for you. Being so intimate with two men. Your superiors. Maybe even more than 20 years older than you. It's intense. Makes the hairs on your body stand up, and goosebumps form on your skin whether you like it or not.

The men sitting there on the bed in front of you, between your spread thighs, look at your fingers working on your clit in small circles. Their hands on your knees tighten as if they're saying 'don't you dare stop now' or 'you got it'. You don't know. But it's encouraging you to get bolder. Your fingers pick up on speed.

"Yeah. Keep going." Robby's voice cracks as he coos.

At that, you whine, your breath hitches, your stomach tightens. Your whole body has a damn reaction just to his encouragement. Your head rolls back on the pillow. Lewd, wet sounds fill the room and you get more and more vocal by the second. Your thighs tremble, the stimulation of the bundle of nerves bringing you to your climax too fast.

"Slow down. Don't rush it." Jack remarks.

Your fingers slow down as you look at Jack with big eyes.

"Didn't tell you to stop, baby. Go on. Keep touching yourself." He nods and you pick up on speed again, but this time a little slower. "Yeah. Just like that." His voice spurs you on, and you lay your head back against the pillow, spreading your legs a little further.

Your hips roll off the mattress, chasing the pleasure. You're so close. Your fingers rub smaller, tighter circles. Your breath catches in your throat.

"Fuck." You mumble, feeling your limbs turning heavier by each passing second.

"You gonna come?" Robby's hand goes from your knee, up and down the length of your thigh. You nod quickly.

"Yeah..so close." You whine, chest heaving.

Jack swallows hard, blinks a few times.

"Okay, stop."

"What?.. I was so close..please.." Your fingers slow down.

"It's okay." He coos, leans down, kisses your inner thigh. The high dies down in your core as you remove your fingers, resting your hand on your stomach as you catch your breath.

You take a deep breath, focus on the kisses from Jack spread along the length of your thigh.

But the pressure in your core builds up quickly when a round hand presses down on your stomach, the other trailing down to rub at your clit, gathering your juices spilling from your entrance to rub faster, meaner.

You moan loudly this time. Robby smiles.

"Let us hear you. Don't hold back."

But what makes you raise your head off the pillow is Jack's kisses getting closer and closer to your core. It's too much. All those kisses getting closer and closer, the hand pressing down on your stomach, the skilled and much larger fingers rubbing at your sensitive pussy. You could come any second now.

"S'too much." You whine.

Robby laughs, mockingly. The kind you've gotten used to in the ER.

"We're just getting you ready. You sure you've been unsatisfied with past partners? Or were you just greedy, looking for attention? Hoping someone would hear you talking like that to McKay and Mohan?" His voice leaves that usual taunting edge in your mind, making it foggy.

"N-no. Not greedy." You mumble. The mumbling gets replaced by a loud moan and two of Robby's large fingers enter you, Jack's lips replacing his fingers and sucking on your clit.

"You sure about that?" Robby rubs the pads of his fingers against your spongey walls, clicks his tongue at the roof of his mouth at the way you're basically sucking him in.

Jack hums against your clit, brows furrowing at your taste. He sucks the nub into his mouth, draws tight circles with his tongue. Just like how you showed them.

And with all the pressure it doesn't take long at all until you come undone with a cry. Jack grips your thigh, holding you in place, tongue torturously licking at your clit.

Robby's fingers inside you, utterly soaked, guide you through the intensity of your orgasm.

You don't remember coming that hard in a long time.

Your thighs are a shaking mess and out of mercy, they finally let go of you. Let you breathe out properly for once. Jack lick lis lips, Robby pops his fingers into his mouth and licks them clean.

You press your trembling thighs together, letting your arm rest over your eyes, shutting out the light, slowly coming to your senses.

"That was.." you start.

Jack interrupts.

"Only the beginning."

"And good for you, I know exactly what you need. Greedy girl. You trust us right?" Robby stands up from the bed, and so does Jack.

You lift your arm from your face and blink a few times.

"Yeah, I do."

"Come here." Robby motions for you to come sit on the edge of the bed, over to the side where he stands. You scoot over, legs already weak. Your naked feet touch the floor and you look up at Robby.

"You're such a pretty girl, you know that? So beautiful when you come." He cups your face with one hand, the other gripping the back of your neck. He leaned down, capturing your lips in his.

The kiss is messy. All tongue and teeth. His hand grips your neck tightly, makes you feel all fuzzy in the stomach all over again. Maybe you are just a greedy little girl.

Behind you, on the other side of the bed, Jack takes off his clothes one by one. Once completely undressed he rolls his shoulders once. The bullet graze wound burns a bit. But he shoves away the feeling. Nothing he hadn't dealt with before.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, fingers working on taking off his prosthetic skillfully. He grunts as he puts it away to the side and rubs his sore muscle. The sloppy sounds of your kisses completely make him forget the pain.

He scoots over to sit in the middle of the bed. Robby pulls away from the kiss and bites into your neck once, taking in the way you smell. Your eyes flutter shut at how his beard scratches your skin, teeth dig in and make it sting. He gives one last kiss on your jaw and pulls away, turns away to finally take off his clothes too. When you turn your head you see Jack sitting there against the headboard, naked.

And fuck, he's so sexy. So huge. Muscles and the obvious other thing between his legs, of course.

Without words needing to be said you crawl over, settle on his lap, each knee digging into the mattress next to his thighs. His hands immediately settle on your hips.

"Good girl." He looks you in the eyes and tucks loose strands of hair behind your ear. He leans in, leaves kisses along the curve of your neck, all over your shoulders. He sucks at the skin, leaving behind marks only to be seen by him and Robby. You're fully theirs for tonight.

You had complained all about men and their self proclaimed right to declare a woman as theirs after thinking they rocked their world by the ability of making them come.

You're against it, all the way. But tonight? The real thing didn't even begin and you're here, already thinking about calling them up, both at the same time, if you're needy the next time. You know, with them you won't have to make up half assed excuses. You'd totally let them claim you.

Jack's hands smooth over your skin, settle at your ass, grip the flesh tightly. He grabs you, pulls you closer until your tummy touches his. And you absolutely feel his cock twitch against your thigh now. You breathe out, tilt your head back, give him more space to bruise your skin with his mouth. When he bites exactly over the spot where Robby's teeth had left a red imprint you actually moan. That, well that makes Jack grind his hips up, his tip smearing his pre all over your thigh.

When Robby returns to the bed, naked too, he gets on the bed behind you. His hands wrap around your body, snake up to the front, cup your breasts. His hands are so large they almost swallow your tits up whole. His thumbs brush over your nips and you huff as they stiffen at the attention.

Robby gathers your hair and tosses the strands over your shoulder. He leaves kisses all over the back of your neck and works together with Jack like they've been doing this for decades.

And maybe they did. They have known each other for a long time. Befriended each other early for a reason. They each had this energy about themselves but emitted a whole different energy when working together. And that obviously transferred into the bed too, obviously.

Under you, Jack shifts. He lies down flat on his back, hissing as his wound gets accustomed to the new weight.

One of Robby's hands goes down your body, to your pussy. You whine immediately as his fingers catch onto your sensitive clit. He gathers some of your slickness and removes his fingers from you, a shameless rope of the thick juice still connecting his fingers and your pussy.

He reaches forward and grabs Jack's cock. Your breath hitches. They've definitely done this before. You bite your lips, watch as he strokes Jack's cock with his hand that's covered with your lust. Jack's cock stands straight, proud, pink tip leaking pre cum, mixing with your juices.

Jack breathes out, hips grinding up into Robby's palm. Robby's other hand which was still around your body, squeezing your breast pulls you back, closer to him. Is this normal? To be so damn large? His own cock presses against your ass and it's bigger than Jack's, as far as you can tell. But you had already figured that. He is a really large man. Only normal for all his assets to match it.

Robby guides Jack's cock over to your pussy, rubs it along your slit, catching onto your clit. Your breath catches in your throat, you almost tip forward but his arm around you keeps you steady. Jack's hands come up to rest on your hips again. And when Robby guides Jack's tip along your slit and it catches onto your entrance jack pulls you down by your hips.

"Oh..oh, fuck.." you whine, back arching. Your insides pulse, stretch wide as they're forced to take all of Jack all of a sudden.

Jack groans underneath you and grips your flesh tightly. "Yeah, fuck. Take me. Just like that." He breathed out.

Robby places soothing kisses on your cheek, his hand on your chest going to your stomach and smoothing over the skin. He takes his other hand that was just on Jack's cock and wraps it around his own, breathing heavily against your cheek.

"Come on, sweetheart. Ride me. You gotta help me out here." Jack grunts, lifting his hips off the mattress to grind up into you.

And you do put in the work. You raise your hips and slam back down rhythmically. You moan as his cock slips out of you, only to fill you back to the brim. Under you, Jack is a groaning mess, mumbling combinations of 'so warm' and 'so tight' over and over again.

Suddenly, your back is pushed down from the back. You brace your hands on each side of Jack's head on the pillow. Robby's large hand is on your shoulder, roughly holding you down. He grips your hip with his other hand, fingers gripping into your skin.

Robby's hand reaches down to where your body interlocks with Jack's. It feels weird. You shudder, insides pulsing once, testing whether to like or hate the touch. Robby swipes his fingers at your slickness and collects it on his fingers as he did earlier. Then, strokes his cock with the same hand.

For a second, you think he's getting all lubed up to enter your ass. You wouldn't mind. On any other day, yeah. But fuck, you need him so bad. But clearly, he has other plans.

"What- no, no..Robby, it's not going to fit. Ive never-" you stutter as you feel his tip press against your already stuffed pussy.

"Shh, it's okay. I know it's going to fit. Thought you trusted us."

"Hey." You feel Jack's hand wrap around your neck, pulling your gaze back to him.

"You're good. It's only gonna hurt a bit. Focus on me, okay?" He says, pulling your mind off of the fact that Robby is seconds away from bullying his cock in your already overfilled cunt.

His hand moves from your neck to cup your cheek, thumb swiping at your lower lip.

"Relax for me." Robby rubs your hips and back soothingly.

And you do. At least you try. You relax your muscles, take a deep breath and before you let the breath out you feel the overwhelming stretch of his tip entering, dragging along Abbot's shaft. You bite your teeth together, rest your forehead on the pillow, right at the crook of Jack's neck. Tears well in your eyes, soak the pillow.

It hurts like hell. So much that no sound escapes your mouth. And you're not the only one who's affected by the intrusion. Jack moans as Robby bottoms out, taking up space right against him. Robby pants at how tight it is.

"Hah- yeah, shit.. you're taking me so well." His voice cracks.

Finally, when he's sheathed fully inside you let out a sound. A cry, a moan, whatever it is it just leaves your throat.

"No..too full. Can't- can't take it. Too much." You shake your head.

Jack turns his head, places a kiss uponThat's your head.

"You got it. You're taking it. So good for us."

"Just need to get used to it, that's all." Robby's hand moves forward again, down to your clit. He circles it tight and fast. Just the way you like it. "Come on, come for me. It'll make you feel better."

You moan loudly, your back arching. The arch makes their cocks hit deeper and your hips shudder.

You feel so full, so weird and unusual in your tummy.

"Hold on.. I.." you mumble.

"What's wrong?"

"I.. I feel like I'm..gonna pee." You whine, gripping the pillow tightly. Robby laughs.

"Holy shit. Are you gonna squirt? Come on, gotta see that." He says, wraps his other arm around your stomach and pulls you up, so that your back is leaning against his chest like before. You whine, the position only making it all feel tighter in your gut.

"I've never-" Jack smiles. "You've never squirted, baby? This your first time?" He coos mockingly.

You nod, your head falling back to rest on Robby's shoulder. His fingers quicken, your hips chase his fingers greedily.

Your core tightens even more and you feel yourself on edge. Your hand stops up, gripping the fat muscle of Robby's bicep. Then, to add to it, Jack's hands hold your hips steady and he slowly fuck up into you. That's all it takes. Drool, tears and whatever subconcsiously escape as you squirt all over jacks tummy, some tickling down the bases of both your attendings cocks, wetting the sheets.

Jack and Robby are quiet, watching in awe.

"Fuck, I told you to take her home months ago, Robinavitch. All the time we missed out on. Look at her. So perfect."

After that its all blurry. It certainly doesn't hurt anymore. You can tell, Robby can tell, Jack can tell. His neighbours probably can tell from how vocal you've gotten, fucking yourself back against the two cocks inside you. Jack raises his hips, fucking up in tandem with Robby. Robby thrusts into you roughly, grunting whenever you meet his thrusts with your own.

Everything is wet and sticky. Sweaty. You don't care. All you want is for them to just fill you up with their cum already.

"Please.." you cry out.

"Yeah, fuck..want us to pump you full of cum, huh? Little slut. Probably wanted this from the moment you started working under us as an intern. You did, didn't you? Wanted us to fill the hole after you left home." Robby grunts into your ear.

"Saw the way you looked at both of us the moment you entered the ED. You thought you were sly, did you?" Jack works his fingers on your overstimulated clit.

You nod frantically.

"Yes, fuck..yes.." you moan, voice raw from all the loud noises leaving your throat.

It's dark outside now. The only light coming from the lamp on the bedside table and the moon.

"So close." Robby moans, fucking into you faster, whining now.

"Me too. You gonna take it all, yeah? You're gonna be good and keep it all inside?" Jack grabs your neck, pulls you down and kisses you roughly as you nod.

Robby presses on your back, making you arch painfully. You grunt, break the kiss and rest your forehead against Jack's. Robby leans forward, now grinding his cock into you, dragging against Jack's cock and your walls. You all moan in unison as you come loudly, skin snapping against skin sharply.

And yeah, God bless America. The sky lights up in all sorts of colours. At first, you think it's just because you've never come so hard, but then you flutter your eyes open and look out the window. Fireworks. Actual, literal fireworks. Robby's thrusts still, jack holds your hips down as they shoot up their last ropes up cum deep inside you.

You're really lucky you're on the pill because with all due respect, you're not ready to give up that much independence.

samira’s pov:

your pov:

jack’s pov:

your pov:

— —

tag list:

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@wylewhims @rufles2 @cosmicneptune @draculovey @mayax2o07 @sharkers00 @shak1ra124 @itzpixiebabe @xh444 @barcelonaaababe @soapyspurnell @roryheartz

but then, there was a shooting at the hospital. derek almost died, everyone got handed a dose of ptsd, and you decided that the best you could do was take a six month sabbatical right after cristina and owen’s quick wedding, drinking mai-tais and aperols on the side of the beach to try to clear your mind. by the time you got back, you and mark decided to work it out and get back together

the news of callie’s pregnancy hit you like a truck and even though you both tried to stay away from each other, you managed to work it out and stayed together, got married, and were expecting a baby of your own, making your weird but big family even bigger than it previously was

you thought you’d finally get to have that happy ending

until that damn plane crash happened and your husband died a month before your daughter came into this world

the image of mark sloan closing his eyes for the last time had been seared into your memory and the situation had almost been enough of a catalyst to send you into early labour. you were grateful to have your friends around you, or at least as much of them they could give you while they were dealing with their own version of the aftermath

twenty-eight days after he was taken off life support, elizabeth sloan came into the world to take off a small amount of the hurt her father’s passing had left in your heart. the first three months with ellie had kicked you in the ass and you took advantage of alex putting off hopkins for a while so he could help you out whenever you needed it. jackson had also been a big help. one night he got drunk after making some dinner for the both of you and he confessed that mark had been the first person he had told about your pregnancy and that he had promised he’d ask you to put jackson down on the godfather race–you ended up bawling your eyes out while he drunkenly rubbed your back and held you until you fell asleep

the funny thing was, you both weren’t even that close. mark and him had been, but the two of you hadn’t. you were good friends, great even, you just always gravitated more towards the others because you thought he disliked you

turns out he respected and was scared of you. you had laughed at him when he finally told you that after a some drinks at joe’s a couple weeks before callie and arizona’s wedding which marked the beginning of one of the greatest friendships you’d ever had

mark was the love of your life but jackson was the closest thing you had to a soulmate. and that was something you didn’t take lightly, he had been there for you through it all, your wedding, your pregnancy, mark’s death, and your daughter’s birth. he cried when you asked for him to be there with you and after, when you asked him to be ellie’s godfather. so, yeah, as far as soulmates go, jackson was yours and, even if he didn’t say it often, you knew you were his

so, when the option of being part owner of a hospital had come as a last resort for saving what had been an important part of your life, you didn’t hesitate to bring up the possibility to him. it was a long shot, one you didn’t achieve on your own, but then, webber had done his thing and suddenly, your last name, your husband’s last name, was on the building

almost a year had passed after what you called the worst months of your life. learning how to live in a world where you were without your husband was strange and learning how to do it with a newborn baby made it even worse. but you did it, or you were doing it—it was a work in progress

your day started as it usually did. waking up, quickly getting ready while your baby slept, drinking your mandatory cup of coffee, waking up your baby to have breakfast before going to the hospital. rinse and repeat. the only difference was the look on hunt’s face the moment you walked out of the elevator after dropping off ellie at daycare

“no” you said before hunt could speak, “whatever you’re going to ask me, my answer is no”

“come on, sloan” he sighed, “medical conference week in san francisco, all expenses paid”

“my answer’s still no, hunt” you kept walking to the nicu for a follow up consult, which took almost half of your morning run

the next hours built up to what you could confidently call one of the worst shifts of your life. your head was pounding since you had woken up, everyone seemed to have it out for you, you had to cancel a couple of surgeries for the sake of board meetings, your phone decided to die halfway a trauma rush and you were left stranded in an elevator half-way up to check on some x-rays because it suddenly got stuck and you couldn’t call anyone

so to say you were pissed off was an understatement

“sloan” you shut your eyes close and took a deep breath when you saw owen waiting for you outside the bathroom

“you’ve got to be kidding me” you groaned, “this has reached unprecedented levels of stalking”

“come on, sloan”

“hunt, you’re asking me for a week without my baby” you groaned again, “and a week without saving other people’s babies”

he huffed, “think of all the babies you could save if you go and see all the presentations,” the both of you stopped at the desk so you could pick up one of the tablets, “you’re the only one i can send”

you let out a breath and rubbed your eyes, “fine.” you agreed, “but,” you paused and looked straight at him, “i want the next three days off.”

“deal.” he said almost immediately which took you back a bit

“didn’t think you’d agree so fast.” you shrugged, “when do i have to leave?”

“saturday night.” you nodded, “meredith will take over your emergency general surgeries and i’ll talk to herman”

“okay.” you gave him a small smile and walked over to your patient’s room

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you weren’t supposed to work friday night. herman had dismissed you before the four am rounds and you were supposed to be drinking some wine and eating the greasiest pizza you could find in all of seattle while you watched some trashy romance movie

sadly, life doesn’t always go as planned. so, when webber called you around ten to practically beg you to come in and help her with a case you had no choice but go in and take over his already-scheduled surgeries

you happily walked into the scrub room but the smile turned into a taken aback expression when you saw jackson and april quietly fighting, “i just don’t know why you’d say that, jackson. it feels like–like you don’t even care about m–”

you cleared your throat, making them pull back and look at you in surprise. “i’m sorry.” you twisted your lips to the side, “i’d say i’ll be right back but i have–i, uhm,” you pointed at the other side of the room, “i have a whipple”

april ran a hand down her face and let out a huff before leaving the scrub room

“sorry.” you called out, turning sideways towards the door, “what was that all about?”

“mind your own damn bussiness” jackson bit at you

“woah,” you turned back towards him, “hold your horses. where the fuck do you get off talking to me that way?”

he sighed, “sorry, bug” you shook your head, “it’s been weird between us ever since the boards and the hospital buyout” he pressed down on his eyes with the palm of his hands, “you’re right, sorry”

“yeah, whatever” you rolled your eyes at him, “move over, i have to scrub” you hit his butt when you walked past him to grab a scrub sponge

“hey!” he jumped from the hit’s impact, “not cool,” you laughed at his tone, “you have a really heavy hand.”

“you’re so damn weak” you shook your head, opening the water so you could start scrubbing, “you two confuse the fuck out of me”

“what does that even mean?” he chuckled, pinching your side

“you two have sex during boards, then kinda pretend it didn’t happen” you started, “the plane crash happened, and when you two finally were going to talk about it, mark died and she got fired” you looked at his face, “then, by some kind of miracle–or really some realization from hunt–she came back and instead of talking like two grown adults you just–fell back into it” you finished talking as you finished scrubbing, seeing the train of thoughts inside his head. “look, i have a couple more surgeries tonight, but el’s in daycare if you wanna play with her for a bit” you shrugged, stopping at the automatic door before you walked into the or, “don’t forget you’re supposed to drive me and take ellie to yours tomorrow night.” you smiled at him, “see you later, alligator”

the rest of the night went by on a blur, alongside the rest of the day. you finished doing the dishes when the doorbell rang, “coming!” you dried your hands with the kitchen towel and walked to the door, “hey, you! you came!”

jackson rolled his eyes and messed up your hair, walking inside. “of course, dumbass. i told you i would” he groaned when you smacked him in the head, “hey!”

“show me some respect, little man” you bit back the smile on your lips

“i’m literally taller than you” you smacked him again

“don’t try to be funny” you shook your head, “el’s in my room” you pointed towards it with your head, “go ahead, i’ll finish the never ending drying process.” you sighed and he chuckled, starting his walk towards your room

ten minutes after, you were walking in and out of your closet, finishing up packing for the week you were supposed to be in san francisco for a medical conference

“i just don’t understand why it’s me who’s supposed to go to san francisco” you sighed as you folded a pair of pants, “why couldn’t hunt send, i don’t know, bailey?”

“mer and you are the general fellows,” jackson said, softly bouncing ellie on his arms, “it’s obvious he’d send one of you. and considering she’s like a hundred months pregnant,” ellie cooed at his words, “he’s sending you”

you groaned, finally closing your bag. “i don’t want to leave ellie”

“i know. but little sloan will be fine” he brushed the small amount of hair out of ellie’s forehead before pressing a little kiss on it, “i have three days off and if i have to go to the hospital i’ll leave her in daycare with sofia and zola. i’m sure they’ll love to play with her”

you pursed your lips, “fine” you took your daughter out of jackson’s arms and held her close to your chest, “i love you, my little bug” you pressed your lips to her cheek and she cooed, “i know. uncle jackson is going to take such good care of you. i’ll miss you so much”

“let’s go, you’re gonna be late” you sighed at his words and walked towards the door

it was going to be a long week

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san francisco was a delight. the weather was better than seattle’s usual one, and even though you missed your daughter, you were having a good week

it felt good to just be doctor you again for a little while and you were thrilled to see some of your friends from med school thriving in their specialties

you were walking into the next room without paying attention when you ran into someone, “i’m so sorry” you apologized to the man in front of you

“don’t worry, dr—“

“sloan. grey sloan memorial” you held your hand out, “nice to meet you, dr—“

“robinavitch, but everybody calls me robby” he shook your hand, “pittsburgh trauma medical center”

you nodded, “great program. almost applied for my fellowship there”

“why didn’t you? if you don’t mind me asking” he asked as you both walked into a big room where everyone was talking and exchanging ideas

“seattle grace—i mean grey sloan is an exceptional program and i, uh, met my husband” the last part came out softer and robby could ser a different glint in your eyes

“is he also a doctor?” he asked and you immediately stiffened

“he was.” you cleared your throat, “dr mark sloan” you saw something shift in his face as soon as the name left your lips

“oh, i’m sorry. i didn’t know” he shook his head, hand coming up immediately to softly scratch the back of his neck. it wasn’t entirely a lie, he knew what had happened to the doctors from what was previously named seattle grace-mercy west that were supposed to go to boise but he didn’t know you were married to one of them. although he could’ve assumed the moment he heard your last name

you shook your head, “it’s okay, no big deal” you sighed, “so, what is a pittsburgh physician doing in san francisco?”

“i am presenting. immediate trauma response and its benefits in emergency medicine”

“oh, that’s amazing” you smiled at him, “when is it?”

he checked his watch, “in two hours”

you nodded, “i’ll see you there, then. it was a pleasure meeting you, dr robby” you said goodbye before walking away to the bathroom. it was the first time you had mentioned mark to someone other than the people of the hospital, your people, and it made you feel weird

it was going to be a long week

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friday came faster than you expected and you were grateful for that. it meant you were closer to finally being able to go home and spend your three days off at home eating crappy food and playing with your daughter

but, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel grateful for the week you’d had. it was the first time in over a year you weren’t a mother and a widow, you were just you, a gorgeous woman and an amazing physician with a double certification most people would only dream about

you went to all and every presentation you could go to. you asked questions, you took notes, you met amazing doctors, ate delicious food, and stayed in an amazing hotel room. you spent time on the indoor pool, signed in on a thousand different hotel experiences

you had a break

a break from part-running a hospital, from being exhausted for working all day and then spending sleepless nights with your daughter, and even though you were exhausted, you were grateful. grateful because you had that last piece of the love mark and you had had for each other to remember him by

you woke up that morning with your head pounding and your heart beating so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. sitting up on the bed, you rubbed your forehead trying to will away the burning image of mark your dream had left

the clock on the nightstand read 7:05 am, so you laid back down on the bed, letting out a huff before getting up from the bed to start your day

your morning run had been almost good enough to erase the dream from your memory, but every time you closed your eyes you could see it over and over again; mark holding you and ellie close to him, the three of you back in seattle with all your family. you sighed, walking into the elevator so you could take a shower and have a proper breakfast

“hold it, please.” you pressed the elevator button when you heard a man’s voice. you gave robby a small smile when you saw him get in with you, “oh, hey. thanks”

“no problem” you hummed as the elevator started going up, “how’s your week going?”

he looked at you, “it’s been great. how about yours?”

“it’s been great, too.” you nodded, “really long, tho”

he sighed, “yeah. way too long”

the elevator doors opened on your floor. you turned to him, “it was great seeing you again” he nodded as you said softly before walking out

you turned around when heard him call you, seeing him holding the elevator open, “would you want to join me and some other doctors tonight for dinner?”

you tilted your head before saying. “sure. i’ll meet you downstairs” you smiled at him before fully turning around to finally walk into your room

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it was almost 9pm and you were sitting down on the hotel lobby waiting for robby to meet you before dinner. you checked your phone to see if jackson had texted you anything after the hour long call you’d had with him less than twenty minutes ago. seeing no texts from him, you blocked it and walked to the restaurant bar so you could order something to drink

twenty minutes, and some drinks, later, you felt a man’s hand on your shoulder. when you turned around, you saw robby standing there, “hey, you”

“you’re here” you said from behind your glass, “you have to try this, it’s really good”

“are you drunk?” he asked mockingly

“no” you shook your head, “i’m just tired,” you hummed, “and hungry”

he pulled out the chair next to you. “what’s on your mind?”

you huffed, “i think i need a change of pace.” you smiled at him, “grey sloan is—great, don’t get me wrong, but it’s full of painful memories”

“isn’t every place built of some painful memories?”

“touché” you tipped your glass towards him, “still, it’s way too hard to be there all the time. on the other hand, it’s not like i’m gonna find a new job before my fellowship is at least halfway through”

he sighed, “come on. i’ll introduce you to some other doctors” you took his stretched-out hand, “you look nice”

you looked down to your clothes, and huffed playfully, “in these?” you chuckled, sending a wink at him, “thank you. you clean up nice, too”

he chuckled, “thank you.” the two of you walked up to a table with three other doctors

“glad you could join us, robinavitch” an older man teased him, “i see you brought company. dr adamson” he offered his hand

“dr sloan.” you shook it, “really nice to meet you”

a spark of recognition flashed on his face. “likewise.” you gave you a short nod, “please, sit down.” robby pulled out the chair for you before sitting down next to you, “so, what brings you here all the way from seattle?”

“i was the lucky fellow chosen this time” you said with a small smile, making the other doctors let out a soft chuckle

“so,” dr scott started, sitting to your left, “how’s leading grey sloan like?”

“it’s an incredibly difficult task” you took a sip of water, “but it’s also a fulfilling one.”

“a hospital run by its doctors” she added and you nodded, “sounds good”

“sounds great,” adamson added, “also sounds like a great responsibility"

you sighed, “you wouldn’t even know the beginning of it”

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getting back to work ten hours after your flight landed wasn’t in your plans. actually, it fully ruined everything you had planned for your very deserved time off after sitting down an entire week listening to dozens of different doctors talking about different specialties. however, seattle’s weather had ruined it

and meredith falling down the stairs didn’t help either

“you need to rest, mer” you rolled your eyes at her huff, cleaning the gel from her belly. “i’m being serious, meredith. i know you wanna help, but you cannot put yourself and the baby in danger” you took off the gloves from your hands, “connie is on call if you need anything,”

derek turned to look at you, “what about you?”

“i’m on call for general surgery tonight since this one is out on maternity leave starting now” you reminded them, brushing the hair out of your face

“what?” mer exclaimed, “no-no, i can–”

“you should rest, mer. i’m serious” you saw her purse her lips, “i’ll be down in the pitt. go home, mer”

you barely heard derek say something about picking up zola from daycare as you walked out of the exam room. you made your way down to the er just as the rain started pouring down harder than before

“have you seen alex?” you asked callie

“nope” she said without looking up from her tablet, “have you seen arizona?”

“nope” you said back at her, chuckling at her expression

“has everyone suddenly gone missing or what?” she groaned at the sound of her pager going off, “oh fuck”

“everything okay?” you asked

“yeah, just. expected post-op complication” she shrugged, “page me if you see arizona”

“‘kay” you said as she walked away to see her patient

you let out a deep breath, already tired, and groaned when you checked your watch and realized it had only been three hours since you had gotten into the hospital

to make matters worse the lights went off, and it seemed like that was the first step for everything to go to hell

reader’s pov:

robby’s pov:

your pov + written portion below:

PTMC is overwhelming as soon as you step inside- the bright lights, loud coughs, and general chatter grating on your already frayed nerves. Though you try to hide it, the pulsing wound spread across your palm in a clean cut has rattled you more than you’d like to admit. There was just so much blood so quickly, and the bright red spilling over your skin momentarily paralyzed you. When you finally came to your senses you were able to grab a towel and apply pressure directly to the cut, as Samira has told you many times before. Still, the blood seeping through the cloth alarmed you.

With one hand occupied, you quickly scooped up your phone and purse, frantically making your way down to the bus stop while trying to text your roommate. You really hoped she’d see the texts and be ready to meet you at the entrance of the Pitt, but you had no luck. Based on the crowd in the waiting room, you knew she was busy.

After speaking to the nice lady at the front desk, who you’re pretty sure is named Lupe, you take a seat in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, grimacing as another wave of pain throbs beneath your skin. You tap your foot anxiously against the linoleum floors, eyes darting around the chaos of the hospital waiting room. The hospital is surely no one’s favorite place, but you especially hate it, the sickness and misery in the room setting you on edge.

As time ticks by, you rest your head in your free hand and close your eyes, attempting to take deep breaths through your nose to stay calm. It’s only as your eyes begin to grow heavy that you feel a tap on your shoulder. You jolt up, expecting to see Samira or maybe Trinity in front of you- a beacon of light in this dismal place. Instead, you see the one person that could possibly make this whole trip worse- Michael Robinavitch.

Fucking Dr. Robby.

His brown eyes dart over you assessingly, as clinical and professional as a doctor’s gaze should be, but it still makes your skin crawl.

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, concern lacing his gravelly tone.

You want to roll your eyes. Instead you hold up your hand wrapped in the towel, “cut myself at work.”

The brunette grimaces apologetically, “come on, I’ll take you back and give it a look.”

You stand up and follow behind him begrudgingly, “can I see Samira-“

Robby looks over his shoulder at you, “she’s busy in a trauma right now. Anyways, it’s ill-advised for doctors to practice on family and friends. I’ll take care of you.”

You’d rather literally anyone else, even the janitor, be your doctor, but you know you can’t wait around forever on your hand. You let the man lead you to a bed in the back, a little more quiet, and close the curtain with a whoosh.

You get settled on the bed eyeing Robby suspiciously as he sits on the stool and scoots up to the beside.

“Let’s have a look.”

You lift the towel from your hand and a faint line of blood bubbles up, but it doesn’t continue to spill out like it did before.

“Geez, that’s a pretty big cut. What happened here?” he asks, tracing his gloved thumb over the wound, examining it.

“I was making apple pie for Jac- I mean Dr. Abbot. He said it was his favorite and I wanted to think him for the cupcake order.”

You think Robby will look more annoyed since it was, technically, his idea to get the cupcakes and yet he wasn’t getting a special treat. Instead, an annoying little smirk graces his face as he looks up at you.

“What?”

“Apple pie isn’t Jack’s favorite, it’s mine.”

You curse under your breath. The last thing you wanted to do is do something nice for Robby. The brunette pushes a little harder on your cut and you yelp, yanking your hand back.

“Well, you’re going to have to wait a little longer for your pie, because the current one is a little bloodier than I usually make them.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he murmurs teasingly as he turns towards the drawers to pull out a suture kit.

“Don’t call-“

Dr. Robinavitch turns back towards you with a big grin, “you really don’t like me, do you?”

You simply scoff, averting your gaze as Robby prepares to inject the syringe with lidocaine at the wound site. He, at least, doesn’t say anything more, instead sewing your stitches methodically in silence. If he weren’t holding a needle going in and out of your hand, you’d be tempted to spit something snarky out.

You fixate on the pattern of the room’s curtain until Robby gives an “all done,” standing up and discarding his gloves. He squirts a generous glob of hand sanitizer onto his hands as he looks over you once more.

“I’ll have a nurse come in to issue your discharge papers. Come back in a few days to get your stitches removed….and, I believe, to give me an apple pie.”

He smirks at your bitter expression as he disappears behind the curtain.

“Prick.”

- -

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