prettiewittie's fic recs

***

“Man, what the heck?!” Javy protests, covering his head with a pillow as he tries to escape the sunlight streaming through the now-uncovered windows. He struggles to hold onto the pillow as his roommate drags it away. “Jake! Quit it!”

“Come on, Javy, we need to get moving.” Jake jerks the pillow away and Javy scowls at his best friend who’s standing over him.

“Why? The game isn’t until tonight, why the heck are you waking me up at,” Javy squints at the digital clock on the bedside table, “seven AM? Dude, what gives?!”

“Coach called, we have a last-minute morning practice.” Now that wakes Javy up.

“WHAT?!” He’s fully awake now, sitting up and he sees that Jake is dressed for practice, a grim smile on his face.

“The bathroom’s yours, I figured I’d give you as much extra time to sleep as possible, I know you went to bed late last night.”

“I have breakfast with my family at 9!” Jake winces and gives Javy an apologetic look.

“I had plans too, but Coach’s word goes. We need to be at the rink in thirty.” Dread fills Javy’s stomach as the reality of his situation becomes clear. He’s not going to be able to make brunch, which on the surface is nothing, but he was supposed to introduce you to his family this morning, and you were joining them for breakfast. As he thinks about you his stomach drops even lower. He needs to talk to you about what happened last night. He’d been planning to do it before breakfast. He had it all planned out. He was going to meet you beforehand, and then go down to breakfast together afterwards. Now he’s not only going to miss breakfast, but he’s not going to get a chance to talk to you either. And given that this practice wasn’t planned, he has no idea when he’ll be done and whether he’ll be able to make a later brunch or even see you before the game.

Javy loves Coach Dare. She’s hands-down the best coach he’s ever had. She’s meticulous and incredibly observant. Despite her seniority, she’s always making time to work with players one-on-one and giving them individual feedback. The only downside of being that good of a coach is that she’s extremely dedicated, so if she thinks that they need an extra practice this morning, she’s going to call one. Javy groans deeply before grabbing his phone, trying to figure out how he’s going to handle this. The idea of just canceling on you with a simple text feels inherently wrong and he types out a quick message in the family group chat before dragging himself to the bathroom. He doesn’t have long before he needs to leave, but if he can be quick getting ready, maybe he can stop by your room and talk to you before heading out.

Twenty minutes later, Javy’s standing outside your door, trying to muster up the courage to wake you up for a conversation that definitely shouldn’t be had half-asleep. He feels guilty for waking you up, but he knows he needs to talk to you sooner rather than later, Zam’s words echoing in his brain as he knocks. The action is met with silence before he tries again. Again, silence. He sighs, fidgeting with his phone as he considers calling you. He knocks one more time, and when you still don’t answer, he calls you. He’s sent straight to voicemail, you must have your phone on silent for the night. He gnaws on his lip as he tries to decide what to do. He needs to talk to you, but with every minute that ticks by, it becomes clear that that’s not happening. Resignedly, he shoots you a text, explaining that he’s not going to be able to make breakfast due to the impromptu practice and that he’s sorry for having to bail on you. As he hits send, his phone buzzes with a message from Jake telling him to hurry up and he heads for the elevator with a heavy heart.

***

The first message is from Nat, explaining in an annoyed tone that Coach Dare called an impromptu morning practice and she had to go and help. The second message is from Javy, explaining the same in a more apologetic way, also adding that he won’t be able to make breakfast. You’re supposed to be meeting Javy’s mom and sisters this morning at breakfast at the restaurant downstairs. Nerves kick up as you realize that you’re going to have to go alone. Javy doesn’t mention that breakfast is canceled or shifted back, simply that he can’t make it. You don’t have any of his family’s phone numbers to ask if breakfast is still on, so you’re going to have to assume that it is.

You’d hoped to have a chance to talk with Javy about what happened last night, but that also seems impossible now, just adding to your anxiety as you collect your things and head back to your own hotel room.

You go through the motions of getting ready, trying to ignore the dread in your stomach as you prepare for the elevated stakes of this breakfast. You look at your reflection in the mirror as you start second-guessing your choice of outfit. You’d chosen a yellow sundress that you were sure Javy would like, but now you’re wondering if it’s an odd choice for meeting his family. You would’ve been meeting them anyway, you tell yourself, even as your heart patters with fear at the idea of meeting them alone. In the end, you decide to keep the dress, trying to keep to your plans as much as possible, even if they’ve been turned on their head.

Thankfully you know what the Machado family looks like thanks to photos that Javy’s shown you so you find their table easily once you reach the restaurant. You put on what you hope to be an amiable smile that hides the pounding of your heart as you approach. Javy’s older sister, Isadora, catches sight of you and waves brightly and the other three women at the table turn to look at you. As you get closer, you can hear your blood in your ears. The table is set for six and you really wish Javy was here. When you reach the table, Cece, one of Javy’s other sisters gets up and comes over to greet you. You’re about to extend a hand when she wraps you in a hug, giving you a quick squeeze.

“Roadie, it's so nice to finally meet you! I love your dress!” She guides you to an empty seat next to Isa. “We weren’t sure if you were still coming after Javy had to cancel. He kind of failed to mention whether we were still doing breakfast, but we figured we’d show just in case, and in the worst-case scenario we still get to eat, but I’m so glad you could make it!” You try to relax but your spine is ramrod straight. “Sorry, where are my manners, I’m Cece, this is Phie,” she squeezes the shoulder of the younger woman next to her, “that’s Isa, she nods at the woman sitting next to you, and then that’s our mom, of course.”

“Laverne, it’s so nice to meet you, Roadie.” Javy’s mother extends a hand to you and you wipe the sweat off your palms hurriedly before taking it and shaking. “Thank you for meeting us this morning, even if Javier couldn’t make it.”

“Of course, I’ve been really looking forward to meeting all of you.” You pray that your voice doesn’t shake as you speak up.

“You’re telling me, we’ve been dying to meet you!” Phie pipes up. “It’s just like Javy to finally get a girlfriend and then have to miss us meeting you for the first time, I’m sure he’s sweating bullets right now at the idea of all of us meeting without him.” She grins conspiratorially and you see the similarity between her and Javy.

“And for extra practice too? How bad are they?” Cece rolls her eyes and you feel a twist in your gut.

“They’re actually having a pretty good season, I think? People seem to think so, at least.”

“Do you follow hockey?” Isa asks and you shake your head, embarrassed.

“Not really, I didn’t know anything about it when I went to my first game. I’m learning though, Nat’s been teaching me.”

“Nat! Oh, I love Nat! Isn’t she just the best?” Phie chirps and you smile and nod. “I can’t believe she’s working for the Dogfighters, that’s so cool. Back when they were in high school, I definitely thought she and Javy would get together.” This is a surprise to you, but Cece shuts it down with a snort before you can start worrying.

“There’s no way Nat would go for Javy, he’s not her type.” Given what you’ve seen of her and Charlie, you’re inclined to agree. “Plus, what do you know?”

“Didn’t they go to prom together?” Phie shoots back.

“So? Javy was Javy, remember? All the girls wanted to go with him, but he didn’t want to. So he took Nat as friends to stick it to them since she didn’t have a date either. I don’t think either of them wanted to go, really.”

“How can you not want to go? It’s your senior prom! Not to mention, Javy won prom king! Imagine if he didn’t go!”

“Girls,” Laverne makes an attempt to steer the conversation back on track.

Phie rounds on you, then. “Roadie, did you go to your prom?” You swallow hard before nodding as you struggle to find the words.

“I did,”

“And you took a date?” Phie pushes and you nod again.

“Yeah, but he wasn’t my boyfriend.” You try to ignore the memories of that night rising to the surface.

“Just a friend then?” Cece asks.

You give her a nervous smile, “Yeah, something like that.” You need to steer the conversation away from you so you pivot back to Javy. “So Javy and Nat went together? I know they’ve been friends since high school.” Phie nods.

“Less of friends, more of menaces-in-arms,” Cece says with a roll of her eyes.

“I’ll say,” Isa pipes up. “You’re lucky you only had one year of high school with them.”

“Speak for yourself, they got progressively worse and I had them as seniors.”

“Girls,” Laverne interjects again before turning to you, “Javier says that you’re a teacher, Roadie?”

You nod, “I teach kindergarten at a private elementary school in San Diego. I’ve been at Acacia Academy for a few years now.”

“How long have you known you wanted to be a teacher?” Isa asks and you brighten, happy to talk about your job.

“Growing up, I found myself observing my teachers a lot. I appreciated the patience they had to have to manage all of their students. Sure, they had to teach them in an educational capacity, but they were also some of the most influential adults in our lives. Especially in elementary school, teachers are a third parent in a lot of ways. By the time I was in high school, I knew I wanted to teach, but once I went through high school, I knew my area of focus needed to be younger. I can’t imagine teaching high schoolers, and even middle schoolers are a lot more rowdy than I’m comfortable with. I love kids, and there’s something so special about having the privilege of being one of their first teachers. As a kindergarten teacher, I’m their first impression of elementary school, so it’s important to set the tone that school is fun and learning doesn’t have to be this thing they dread. Admittedly that means the stakes are high, but I love being able to be the one to show them that.”

“What drew you to Acacia Academy?” Laverne asks and you try to ignore the bitterness that fills your stomach.

“Before teaching there, I tried public school but it wasn’t for me. I didn’t like how big the schools are, it makes learning more impersonal when you have so many students, and personally I’m more comfortable in smaller schools. That being said, there are definitely downsides to working at a private school, but the joy I get from teaching the kids outweighs that.”

“Okay, I have a question,” Phie speaks up and you turn to her. “I know it’s maybe getting ahead of things, but Javy said you guys were in a fake relationship before you started dating him. Why? He said he did it because Zam wanted to fix his public image, but why did you? What was the benefit of dating Javy?”

You try and hide your wince. “Well, one of the downsides of working at Acacia is that my boss, Principal Jackson can sometimes be capricious, and without a public school board to keep him from getting out of hand, he sometimes makes arbitrary decisions. The day I met Javy, we had a staff meeting at which he said that while it wasn’t a hard and fast rule, he’d be taking our relationship statuses into consideration when reviewing our contracts for next year.” Phie’s jaw drops and Cece and Isa look surprised as Laverne’s brows furrow.

“Some of the teachers are a little more cavalier in their personal lives, and sometimes that slips into their professional one, especially amongst some of the single teachers. So I think this was his way of trying to crack down on that without angering people with a full-on ban on inter-teacher dating. I didn’t have a boyfriend at the time and I was worried that it would have an adverse effect on me being able to keep my job. That being said, I wasn’t really interested in trying to find a boyfriend just to secure my teaching contract for next year. I didn’t really date before Javy. And then that night I met Javy at the hockey game.” You stop there, assuming that your story has caught up to the version they know but after examining their waiting faces you realize they may not know what comes next.

“Okay, but how did you meet him? And you said you don’t keep up with hockey, so why were you at the game?” Phie asks. Your stomach twists as you realize that Javy hasn’t bothered to discuss the minutiae of the beginning of your relationship with his family, and while you don’t blame him, you’re not exactly thrilled about having to be the one to break the news.

“So, one of my colleagues and friends is Josie Fitch who teaches fourth grade at Acacia. Her husband, Reuben, plays on the Dogfighters. Josie’s always invited me to come with her and her kids to the games, and I finally accepted that day. I’d never been to a hockey game and honestly, it was a lot. I got separated from Josie in the rush after the game and got lost in the arena. I guess I ended up somewhere that wasn’t public access and I ran into Javy.” You pause, trying your best not to visibly wince as you continue your story. “He mistook me for a fan, since I was wearing a sweatshirt Josie got me, and thought I came looking for him since I guess he usually hooked up with girls after games.” You swallow. “And then he kissed me.” Your cheeks are hot with embarrassment. You watch the shock register on the faces of everyone at the table. Even Laverne’s cool and collected expression is broken by the sharp rise of her eyebrows and purse of her lips. “Long story short, apparently someone got a photo of the kiss through a window nearby and I ended up in the tabloids. Zam called me in to try and get ahead of any lawsuit I might want to file based on sexual harassment, which I wasn’t planning to anyway, and Josie suggested a mutually beneficial agreement where Javy would have a girlfriend to convince the media that he had settled down and I would have a boyfriend so I’d have a better chance of keeping my job.”

Cece has her head in her hands. “That idiot,” she shakes her head. “I knew he was stupid, but that really takes the cake. What kind of person kisses some random girl he’s never met without even asking who you were?”

“Our brother, apparently,” Isa says grimly. “So you guys started fake dating?” You nod. “He said you were fake dating before you were regular dating, but he never really explained why it started in the first place.”

“He didn’t lie, necessarily,” Phie speaks up. “He said he met you through one of the guys’ wives, which I guess is true.”

“He probably didn’t want to embarrass you,” Isa says after a moment. “Or himself, but we already know he’s an idiot. When he finally told us about you, he was the most earnest I’ve ever seen him. He probably didn’t want to introduce anything that would make us make any assumptions about you before we actually met you.” You nod.

“I’m not mad at him for it, I just wish he’d told me you didn’t know. Though I’m sure he would have preferred to tell you himself, he just expected to be here today.” The two other girls nod somberly.

Javy’s mom has been quiet this whole time and you find yourself glancing at her nervously. She catches your gaze and straightens, a sigh on her lips. “You had every reason to bring a lawsuit against Javy, and yet you didn’t, why? I understand you managed to gain something out of your mutual agreement, but the money you would have received from the lawsuit would have been substantial.”

You sigh, trying to ignore the twinge of shame at the mild insinuation that you could have used Javy to make a quick buck. “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I’m a pretty private person, and I already had my face all over the tabloids. Sure, the press would move on, but people at my job saw the photo and that was already drawing unnecessary and unwanted attention to me. I just wanted to forget it happened and move on with my life. I didn’t even want to go and talk to Zam when she contacted me, I only went because Josie pressed me to. Even the fake-dating agreement wasn’t my idea, it was Josie’s. She saw that I was stressing out about potentially losing my job and offered me a way out.”

“Sure, it pushed me out of my comfort zone and straight into the spotlight but it wasn’t about me anymore. I love my job, and I love the kids that I work with. I did it for them. You’re right, I could work anywhere, but there’s something about the kids at Acacia. They’re usually the kids of wealthy or prominent parents. They don’t always get what you’d consider a normal childhood. Some of them are forced to grow up too fast. They deserve to be able to feel like normal kids as long as possible, and so I want to create an environment in the classroom where they can just be themselves and learn and grow together.”

“As I mentioned earlier, kindergarten is their first experience in elementary school. It sets the tone for the rest of their years at the school and maybe even how they approach education for the rest of their lives. I take my job very seriously and I love my students, so if I had to sacrifice my personal comfort to keep my job that was going to affect a lot more people than just me, it was worth it in my eyes.”

“I was never going to sue Javy. It’s never been about me, and even if I did want to, just because I teach at a private school doesn’t mean I make much more than the average teacher. I don’t have the money for a lawyer. Josie offered to pay for one if I wanted it, but I didn’t, that’s just not me.” You shrug.

“And I know what it looks like.” You twist your hands in your lap nervously. “I trapped Javy in a fake relationship, and seduced him, all in a ploy to get access to him and his money, but I’m telling you right now, that that’s not me. When I first started dating Javy, I was so uncomfortable, and I hated it. The only other time I dated someone was back in high school and it turned out that he only dated me as a dare.” Your gut twists. You never used to talk about Andrew and yet now the words flow so naturally, like you’ve abandoned the shame that held you captive for so long.

“I didn’t really have friends growing up, and I got used to being alone until I met Josie. When I started dating Javy I was so in over my head.” You let out a nervous laugh at the memory. “Even just hugging him or holding his hand made me so anxious that I wanted to throw up, nothing felt natural, and I guess it wasn’t. But he was so patient with me, he never pushed me to do anything I wasn’t comfortable with, and he always looked out for me even when he didn’t have to. I had a panic attack on our first date and he talked me off the ledge. When my car got wrecked, he lent me his car. He and Jake came to career day and taught my students about being a hockey player.” Your lips twitch in a fond smile. “Even when we decided to end the fake relationship, he just wanted to be my friend. He’s not perfect, but he’s always trying. Even when he messes up, he still tries. It’s what made me fall in love with him.” You squeeze your hands in your lap as the words come out yet again. Mentally you curse yourself for telling yet another person that isn’t Javy.

“You really love each other,” Isa speaks up, a fond smile on her lips. You nod, cheeks heating. Before, you might have brushed off the fact that a Javy loved you but his words from last night echo in your mind. You turn back to Laverne, waiting for her to say something, anything as your heart thunders in your chest.

Finally, she speaks up, “Javy’s never been easy. People rarely are, but some are harder than most. Very few people truly know him, especially with the persona that he chooses to show to the world. It’s always worried me. I know I raised a better man than the one that the world gets to see. I’m glad that you see him.” Her eyes are still unreadable but her soft smile fills you with relief.

“Just because someone’s not easy, doesn’t mean their not worth loving. We’ve taught each other that, I think. It’s something new to both of us but we’re figuring it out together.” Laverne nods at your words.

“You’re very wise, Roadie.” She remarks and your cheeks heat.

“I’m not sure about that, I think it’s just a byproduct of overthinking everything.” You admit with a nervous laugh.

“How you reach a result doesn’t change the result,” she says and you fall silent, unable to argue with that.

“So Roadie, Javy says you’re an artist?” Cece pipes up, changing the subject. You nod.

“I paint.”

“He sent me pictures of your gallery exhibit and you’re really good!” You feel your cheeks heat in embarrassment. “I mean it! I’m an art curator, I should know.” She says with a smirk and your eyes widen in surprise.

“You’re a curator?” She nods.

“I work for a museum right now, so not gallery work, but before this, I worked freelance for galleries around New Orleans as well as for a few private collectors. I’ve seen a lot of art, so let me say, you have a lot of promise if you want to take your work commercial. Freelance work gave me a great network, and I’d love to recommend you to some of the people I know. I know your work doesn’t give you a lot of flexibility to travel, so I can see if I’ve got any contacts who work in Southern California or if they know anyone. And then of course, if you wanted to come down to New Orleans this summer, I could absolutely get you into some exhibitions. If you send me your portfolio, I’ll spread it around.”

You’re dumbfounded. You’ve always loved painting and dreamed of a future where you’d be able to share it with the world and even sell it to supplement your income, but it had always been a pipe dream more than a goal. You’d gotten your first gallery show by chance, filling out some application that caught your eye the last time you visited the art museum. You hadn’t expected anything to come of it, but you’d tried not to let that stop you from trying. Now, here was Cecelia, offering you an actual chance to make your dream come true.

“Thank you,” you stammer, unable to hide your surprise at her kindness, “thank you so much, I’d love that!” She smiles warmly, clasping her hands in excitement.

“Perfect! I’ve been begging Javy to ask you, but he said it would be better coming from me, I’ve been obsessed ever since he showed me the painting he’s got in his living room. I’m jealous, honestly, it’s such a beautiful piece.” Your cheeks heat with pride at the praise. You hadn’t really considered who would see your painting when you agreed to sell it to Javy, you were just surprised that he wanted it and were way too focused on arguing with him about paying for it. He just shut down your protests, insisting that he wanted to be the privilege of being the first person to buy your art.

“You have to come visit this summer, Roadie, whether you decide to show off your art or not! You definitely should, it’s super good, but even if you decide not to, you have to come to New Orleans! It’s the perfect city for art lovers and I’m sure you’d love it!” Phie bubbles with excitement at the prospect.

Your heart warms at all the kindness and acceptance being shown to you. You’ve gotten used to having Javy around and the little bubble that’s your relationship and has grown into the Dogfighters family. And now you feel the Machados offering you entry into yet another family and you’re touched by how quickly and earnestly they’re welcoming you in. “What do you do, Sophie? I know Isadora runs a flower shop, Javy told me that.”

Phie waves you off, “It’s Phie, Isa, and Cece, no one calls us by our full names, I promise. Plus, you’re family now.” Your heart squeezes. “But as for me?” She lets out an exhausted groan and slumps over the table dramatically and you see a bit of Javy in the action, “I’m currently in the trenches getting my MBA. I want to get into sports management, so I’m trying to figure out if I need to go to law school to supplement that. Honestly, I’m sick of school, no offense, but if it's what I need to do, it’s what I need to do.”

You perk up at that. “You should talk to Bugs’s brother, Charlie, he’s in sports law. He’s here visiting a client so there’s a good chance he’ll be at the game tonight.”

Phie sits up, light in her eyes. “Really? That would be great!”

You nod, “I’ll introduce you.”

“Roadieeeee! You’re the best!” She bounds out of her seat and comes up behind you to give you a big hug and you’re touched. Once she makes her way back to her seat you turn to Isa.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you for the flowers. I know Javy bought them, but he said you helped him choose. I don’t know how you managed to guess it, but tiger lilies are my favorite.”

She gives you a knowing smile. “That’s my gift. It’s the reason that I love my job so much, there’s nothing more fulfilling than helping someone pick flowers for someone when they don’t know what to get.”

“That’s amazing, I’d never even considered that before. You’re an artist in a way, I mean that’s what art is.” She nods.

“Unfortunately I’m absolute rubbish at actual art, but it feels like painting or even writing in a way. That’s the reason people used to associate flowers with language. They say something as long as you’re listening.”

“Give her a call when you get married, she’ll give you a discount,” Phie says with a cheeky grin and a wink your way that makes your cheeks heat with embarrassment.

“Phie!” Cece exclaims, elbowing her sister with a bemused smile.

“What?! I want to know! Javy’s such a boy, he doesn’t tell us nearly enough details!” She turns from squabbling with her sister to look at you earnestly, “So do you think you want to marry Javy?”

Your heart thuds at the idea of a future with Javy. You have no intention of giving him up, but you’ve been so busy stressing over the immediate future that you haven’t considered the details of a long-term one. You think about Josie and Reuben and you allow yourself to imagine a life where you’re in a similar situation. You and Josie raising your kids together while your husbands, your heart flutters at the thought of the word, travel for a living. It won’t be easy. You know better than to romanticize the life you’ve been observing for months now. You’ll have to do a lot alone, and Javy won’t always be around to help. But even as you consider the downsides, you think about summers where both you and Javy will be free to enjoy every moment with your kids during vacation. The sweet summers will make up for the hard winters, and while it won’t be perfect, it’ll be yours. You realize that you want that, more than you expected. “Not right this second,” you admit. “I want to take things slow since this is my first real relationship, but one day,” you take a deep breath. “Yeah, I think I would.”

Phie screeches with excitement and Laverne gives her a stern look even as her own lips curve upwards. Isa and Cece can’t help their excitement even if they try to hide it. “We thought the day would never come!” Phie exclaims dramatically. “And here I was thinking he’d die alone in the basement of my mansion!”

Isa snorts at that. “What mansion? You live at home.”

Phie feigns affront. “For now, but once I’m a kickass sports manager, and I steal the Dogfighters from Beau Simpson, I’m going to have a California McMansion for me and my cats!” Cece rolls her eyes and you chuckle at their comfortable antics. It reminds you of the Dogfighters and the way Jake and Javy bicker.

You’re torn from your observation of the girls by Laverne’s hand on yours. You turn to her to see her smiling at you softly. “Thank you,” she says and you can’t help the way your heart flips at the sincerity of her words. “Javy’s important to all of us, and I can see he’s important to you too. So thank you, for being patient with him. As his mother, I’ve had decades of practice, yet sometimes even I don’t know what to do with him. I can see him changing, growing into the man I always knew he was capable of becoming. Thank you for helping him with that, and giving him a reason to do so.”

“He’s a good man,” you admit. “He’s just afraid of letting the rest of the world see that. I’m lucky to have him. Really,” you feel tears prick the back of your eyes as you consider what your life would look like if you’d never met Javy. You’d still be lonely, pushing away Josie’s attempts to get closer to you, living in fear of trying anything remotely new and out of your comfort zone. Now you have friends, a family, and a future that you’re nervously excited to experience.

You’ve always marveled at how Josie manages to look so put together while working full-time and also single-parenting for half the year, and now you know the truth. She’s just as human as you, just much better at controlling when she shows her vulnerabilities. Right now they're starting to show as you can tell the week has taken its toll on Reuben’s wife just as much as her kids. Exhaustion is evident in her eyes as Skylar clings to her leg, little eyes drooping with sleep as she’s up far past her bedtime. Jamie holds onto her hand half-heartedly as his steps become more like a shuffle and he yawns widely.

Your flight to Dallas had been delayed multiple times, one of which was on the runway, leading to the kids getting antsy, desperate to see their dad who was only a few hours flight away. Now you were finally emerging into DFW airport, dragging feet and suitcases, dreaming of your waiting beds almost as much as your waiting partners. You stoop down to try and gently coax Skylar off Josie’s leg and into your arms in an attempt to relieve Josie a bit. She relents and you shift her weight to your hip. Thankfully, you’ve had to pick up your students enough times that you’re used to the weight and it isn’t too much trouble to wrangle your suitcase behind you as the two of you make your way to baggage claim.

There’s a man waiting with a nondescript sign for the four of you who takes it upon himself to help you retrieve the rest of your luggage before leading you out to where a black SUV is idling outside, driven by a similarly dressed man. According to Zam, in an effort to protect everyone’s privacy and not cause a scene at the airport, it’s easier to have someone pick you up from the airport and drop you off at the hotel where the boys are staying. You appreciate the gesture even as you wish Javy was here as you helped Josie install the car seats for the kids. Thankfully Jamie is coherent enough to buckle himself into his booster seat as Josie takes care of Skylar. You and Josie ease into the third row of seats and slump against the cool leather as the car pulls away. According to Josie, it’s a bit of a drive from the airport to the hotel downtown and you feel your eyes grow heavy as the car pulls away from the bright lights of the airport and disappears into the darkness on the highway.

A gentle shake wakes you and you blink sleep out of your eyes, disoriented as the blinding light of the hotel driveway pierces your vision. You let out a whiney grumble, pawing at your eyes in an effort to mitigate the light, and a shadow shifts to block some of the light and your eyes manage to adjust just enough to recognize the figure leaning over you with a soft smile. “Javy,” your voice is rough with sleep and you groan as you struggle to sit up, wrapping heavy arms around Javy’s neck as he pulls you close, carefully helping you ease out of the seat. It’s an awkward crawl as you get out of the car but finally, you’re upright again and you lean your head on Javy’s chest as he smooths your hair gently.

“Hey you,” he whispers and you smile, humming softly into his shirt. “Tired?” You nod against the fabric on your cheek. “Come on, let’s get you upstairs.” You let out a whine of protest as he starts to pull away. “I can carry you if you want?” His voice is a half tease like he doesn’t expect you to say yes, but the combination of the stress of this week, your long day, and the temporary sleep you’d gotten on the drive here make you weak and you just nod. If you were less tired you’d feel guilty for the way you practically go boneless as Javy scoops you up like it’s nothing. Your head lolls on his shoulder, burying itself in his neck to hide from the light as he wraps your legs around his waist so you’re hugging his chest like a monkey.

***

Javy does his best to hide his disbelief as you let him scoop you up. It’s hardly the most romantic position to the outside viewer, he’s carrying you the way Reuben carries Skylar except she’s a kindergartener and you’re five times her age, but it warms his heart at the fact that you trust him enough to be this vulnerable around him. He knows he should feel embarrassed as he glances over at Jake where he’s helping with your bags, but he just feels overwhelming happiness. He returns his best friend’s boyish grin as he heads over.

“Thanks for the help,” he feels guilty about the noise but the steady rise and fall of your chest against his and the wheeze of your half-snore tells him you’ve already fallen back asleep. Jake shakes his head in a combination of dismissal of the thanks and disbelief.

“No problem, she looks exhausted.” Javy’s heart aches at the truth in Jake’s words. He knows how hard it’s been being away from you and truth be told he can see that toll reflected on your face even as your brow relaxes in sleep. He keeps replaying the sleepy relief on your face when he’d woken you, like you something had finally relaxed in your heart the way it had in his when he’d spotted your sleeping form on the back of the car. He’s been looking forward to this all week, and as excited as he was to see his family today, he can’t help but think about how excited he is to see you too, even if he just left you around a week ago.

Javy and Jake follow Reuben and Josie through the lobby to the elevator. There are enough bags that they send the Fitches up first, waiting for the next one. Dallas may be five hundred miles away from New Orleans, but it’s become a home away from home of sorts for him. During the season, it’s one of the only times he gets to see both his and Jake’s families. And now you get to be a part of it too. The only thing better would be the promise of his own bed and home. Jake and Javy ride the elevator in comfortable silence, but Javy knows Jake must be feeling similarly. When the door opens, Javy follows Jake down the hallway to your room. Javy shifts your weight slightly so he can fish out the keycard to your room, handing it to Jake, who unlocks the door and holds the door open for Javy. Javy doesn’t bother turning on the light, instead opting to lay you down in the bed after Jake pulls the covers back. You shift in discomfort at the change in position, blinking sleepily as he rubs your shoulder in comfort as Jake turns on a lamp across the room after dropping off your bags. He gives Javy a silent nod of dismissal before he leaves the two of you alone.

“Hey Meep,” Javy whispers lowly, “you gotta wake up, just for a bit. I’m sure you don’t want to sleep in your clothes.” He stifles a chuckle at the way your nose wrinkles in discomfort as you stretch, and Javy catches on your shoe-covered feet where they’re hanging off the bed, easing them off. You let out a long groan, burying your face in the pillow before dragging yourself into a sitting position and grumbling an unintelligible assent. “I’ll see you in the morning, text me when you wake up.” You nod your sleep-heavy head, not really looking at him. “Alright, I’ll let you get some sleep.” He leans over to kiss the top of your head and feels you lean into it. He gets off the bed, heading for the door but pausing before opening it. “Goodnight Meep, I love you.”

The door clicks shut behind Javy before the realization hits and Javy freezes in the hallway, jaw slack. He just said it. He hadn’t meant to, it had just felt so natural, it had come out unintentionally. He blinks, frozen in place, one hand still on the handle of the now-locked door. What was he supposed to do? Knock on the door and explain? You were half-asleep as it is. Maybe you hadn’t heard it? And if you had, maybe you would remember it in the morning. His heart is hammering against his chest as he stands in the hallway awkwardly. Every second that ticks past makes it more impossible for him to knock on your door. He tries not to think about the fact that you haven’t come out after him. Maybe you really hadn’t heard it. Javy opens and closes his hands in fists at his side as he struggles with what to do.

The acceptable window to knock on your door passes as he panics outside it and finally, Javy stomps down the hallway in an act of pure desperacy, banging a different door down the hall. It’s long past midnight at this point and definitely too late to be bothering the occupants but that’s the furthest thing from his mind. The door finally swings open and Bradley glares at Javy, sleep and irritation in his eyes. Javy pauses. He’d completely forgotten that Bradley would be here and the awkwardness grows between the two men as Javy searches for the right words through his panic. “Machado, this had better be good,” Bradley grumbles and Javy catches the sound of another voice from deeper in the dark room.

“Javy?” It’s all the confirmation he needs, and he pushes past Bradley stumbling into the dark hotel room.

“HEY!” The older man calls out behind him. “What the fuck, man?” A bedside lamp clicks on, illuminating Zam sitting up in bed. She’s wearing what Javy assumes is Bradley’s missing shirt and probably nothing else.

“Javy, what’s going on?” Zam yawns, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Javy stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed, his panic making his brain move like sludge.

“HEY!” Bradley’s hand clamps down on Javy’s shoulder, starting to drag him away from the bed. “What the heck, Machado? It’s the middle of the damn night, you can’t just be bursting in here. If you’re drunk, go bother someone else, I don’t have time for this shit right now.”

“I’m not drunk!” Javy jerks his shoulder away from Bradley indignantly. “I just, I just, I just…” he can’t get the words out, embarrassment sticking them in his throat.

“Easy, Javy, what’s going on?” Zam says, smoothing her bedhead out as she wakes up all the way. Javy squeezes his eyes shut, trying his best to pretend that his judging teammate isn’t standing next to him, arms crossed in nothing but his underwear.

“I accidentally told Roadie I love her! I didn’t mean to! It just came out! I was saying goodnight and I just tacked on the ‘I love you’ and I didn’t even realize until I left the room and at that point, the door was locked behind me, and I don’t even know if she heard me because she was half asleep when I left. So I didn’t know whether I should knock on the door and explain because I’m not even sure how to explain it without saying something wrong. And then too much time went by. It would have been weird if I knocked on the door at that point so I didn’t know what to do so I…”

“Came here,” Zam finishes like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“I fail to see why,” Bradley grumbles, wiping a hand over his face in exhaustion. Zam glares at him.

“Four months ago, I was losing my mind in his room because I was in love with you, that’s why.” She says pointedly and Bradley lets out a groan before flopping face-down onto his side of the bed. Zam pokes his shoulder. “Come on, Bear, help him out.”

“He didn’t come here to see me,” Bradley says into the pillow and Zam rolls her eyes.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t help.” She says matter-of-factly and Bradley grunts noncommittally.

“Do you love her?” Bradley’s words are once again muffled by the pillow but Javy’s able to make them out all the same.

“Yes, but,”

“No buts. You love her. You told her. I fail to see the problem. Go to bed. Leave me alone.”

“One butt,” Zam smirks as she jabs at Bradley’s underwear-clad behind and he swats a hand half-heartedly at her, finally turning his head to look at Javy and Zam.

“You can tell her again in the morning. If she’s ready, she’ll say it back. If she’s not, you pull up your big-boy pants and wait for her. Now for the last time, get out of my room, we have a game tomorrow.”

“Bradley’s right, Javy. You’ve shown your hand, now you just have to wait for her to show hers. If she really was half-asleep, though? But make sure you tell her again tomorrow morning so she doesn’t drive herself crazy. If she did hear you and you don’t acknowledge it ever again, she’s going to think she did something wrong.” Sam’s words twist painfully in Javy’s gut. That’s the last thing he wants. You’ve been doing everything right, to the point that he’d blurted out that he loved you without a second thought. It had been as easy as breathing and now he can’t help but feel guilty that he didn’t immediately knock on your door and talk things through before he ran to someone else about it.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Bradley’s voice is heavy with sleep but firm nonetheless and Javy turns to look at him. “It doesn’t have to be perfect as long as it’s true. Think of it this way, at least you didn’t have to almost die to get the words out.” Zam smacks his shoulder, scowling at him before turning to Javy.

“Get some sleep, Javy, you can talk to her in the morning.” Javy nods slowly, turning their words in his head until a foot jabs into his thigh.

“Now get out, I’m going back to sleep,” Javy smirks to himself as he stands up and heads back to his room for the night, fighting the urge to stop at your door.

***

Well, now you’re definitely awake. You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there, frozen in place, eyes wide, heart in your throat, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t just hear what you thought you heard. “Goodnight Meep, I love you.” Your heart hammers in your ears as your whole body trembles with nervous excitement even as your stomach churns against the adrenaline coursing through your body. It’s painfully quiet in the room as you sit there in the dark. You’d intended to just kick off your clothes into a heap on the floor before you could wake up fully and descend back into a deep sleep in preparation for a long day tomorrow and now you’re wide awake, staring into the blackness around you, sleep the farthest thing from your mind.

Your phone buzzes on the table next to you and you grab it, blinking against the brightness of the screen as you make out a message from Nat asking if you made it to Dallas. Without a second thought, you call her. Nat picks up on the first ring.

“Hey Roadie, what’s up? I figured you’d be in bed already-“

“Javy just told me he loves me.” You blurt it out, cutting her off.

“What? Wait did you just… WHAT?!” Nat’s squawk on the other end brings a smile to your lips and the nerves in your stomach flutter with something more akin to butterflies.

“I mean I think, I was half asleep. I fell asleep in the car on the way here from the airport and he carried me upstairs. I can’t believe I let him, I was just so tired, and he offered, and it’s been such a long day. ANYWAY, he brought me up to my room, woke me up, and told me to get ready for bed and then as he was walking out he said good night and then I love you and now I’m wondering if I dreamed it, but I’m almost certain he said it.” You pause to catch your breath. “But then he just walked out like it was nothing so I’m not sure.” You wait for Nat’s response. There’s a long pause before Nat cackles in glee on the other end and you smile nervously.

“I KNEW it, I knew he would say it first! I called it!” You roll your eyes as Nat continues. “Oh Javy Machado, you secret hopeless romantic, you’ve made me a rich woman tonight! Wait Roadie, you’re awake right?” You nod before remembering she can’t see you and reply verbally. “Excellent, come to my room, we’re getting dessert to celebrate!”

You laugh at that, all your nerves dissipating in the face of Nat’s excitement and joy. “Nat it’s 3 am! You have to work tomorrow!”

“I’m working, not actually playing, and we need to celebrate Roadie! Come on! We’re having dessert and a sleepover! They booked me a double for some reason, we may as well make use of it! Pajamas are mandatory, I’m expecting you in fifteen minutes tops, no ands, ifs, or buts!” Nat hangs up before you can protest and you chuckle to yourself as you turn the bedside lamp on, stretching. You’re no longer sleepy, that’s for sure, and you’d much rather hang out with Nat than lie in bed trying to fall asleep, so you get changed into your pajamas, grabbing the hotel robe and slippers from the closet, before you head off towards her room.

Nat answers your knock almost immediately and tackles you in a hug that almost sends the two of you onto the hallway floor. “I’m so glad to see you, it’s been such a long week!” You squeeze her back, trying to hold back the tears that burn your throat at her enthusiastic greeting. You’re still getting used to having friends, and Nat’s bubbly excitement is different from Josie’s calmer, more motherly demeanor. “Come in, come in. I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I ordered one of everything on the dessert menu. Javy said you don’t drink, so no wine, but I figured you can’t say no to hot chocolate, so I got us some of those. Plus, I probably don’t need any more coffee.” You chuckle at that even as you clock the two empty mugs on the table next to the couch. “You know, I had my money on something happening on this trip, what with you meeting the family and all, but Javy managed to surprise even me. The first night? The man has more in common with Bradley Bradshaw than he likes to think.” She smirks as she flops onto the couch and you sit down beside her. “So he just blurted it out?”

“I mean not exactly, but he said it so simply, like it was just a part of him saying goodnight. Honestly, I’m not even sure he realized he said it. Because if he had, he wouldn’t have just walked out, right?”

“You’re right that Javy could only hope to be that casual… that’s way more of a Jake move if I’m being honest, but to not even realize he said it? That doesn’t seem right either, honestly. Maybe he thought you were asleep?”

You shake your head, “he made sure to wake me up before he left. He had to know I was awake.”

“And he didn’t come back into your room, which means he’s probably freaking out. And if he didn’t freak out to you, and he didn’t freak out to me, then he’s freaking out somewhere.”Your face twists in worry and you sit up straighter, making to stand up, but Nat stops you with a gentle hand on your wrist. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“If you’re right, then I can’t just let him freak out alone! I need to go find him!” Worry pulses through your veins at the idea of Javy getting trapped in a cycle of overthinking that you’re all too familiar with and you stand up.

“No, you don’t,” Nat says calmly, tugging your wrist gently to guide you back down onto the couch. You don’t budge. “Hey, Roadie, listen to me. I’ve known Javy for half my life at this point and you need to give him some space right now. If you’re right and he just blurted it out without thinking, yeah he’s probably freaking out. And I know you want to help, but he needs time to process it on his own. I don’t say this to hurt you, but if he wanted your help, he would’ve asked. This is something he needs to do by himself, and he’ll come to you when he’s ready. All you need to do is be there for him when he gets there. Well, that’s not all you need to do, actually. Do you love him?”

Your heart thunders in your ear, picking up speed as your cheeks heat in response to that word. Nat’s intense brown eyes don’t give you relief, patiently waiting for your response even as they bore into your very soul as if to extract them herself.

“I should hope so,” an unfamiliar voice interrupts, and your head whips to the side in surprise, and your eyes widen as you see none other than Charlie walking out of the bathroom. He’s wearing another suit or he probably was, he’s ditched the jacket somewhere and he has the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to the elbow. His hair sticks up like he’s been running his hand through it and he looks like he’s had a long day. He leans casually against the wall, just out of the doorway to the bathroom, regarding the two of you across the room on the couch. The second coffee cup on the table suddenly makes a lot more sense. You’re so surprised by his presence that you’re not quite sure what to say, but you definitely don’t expect what ends up coming out of your mouth.

“Do you own any clothes that aren’t suits?” Your internal monologue escapes your lips and you snap your mouth shut as soon as your brain catches up. You’re mortified but Charlie seems thoroughly entertained, throwing his head back with a rich laugh echoed by Nat next to you. He shoves a hand through his disheveled hair, further causing it to stick up.

“I knew I liked you, Roadie,” he says as he regains his composure. “And to answer your question, absolutely not, it would completely ruin the image I work so hard to cultivate.” Nat rolls her eyes. “I take it Natasha didn’t mention I was here?” He asks and you shake your head as Nat shrugs, trying her best to look nonchalant.

“I’m pretty sure it was you who said you weren’t,” Nat says pointedly and it’s Charlie’s turn to shrug.

“Why are you here?” You ask, frowning slightly.

“I happened to be in town for a client,” Charlie says with another shrug, “coincidence really.” He too seems to be playing nonchalant but you don’t miss the look that he and Nat exchange.

“This reminds me, actually,” Nat turns to give you a pointed look. “What’s going on with the two of you, anyway? Charlie says you gave him my number when you went by his office but what were you doing there in the first place?” You swallow hard. You’d planned to keep your work situation and subsequent visit to Charlie a secret until you had a concrete plan of how to deal with Principal Jackson’s threats. You squirm under her inquiring gaze, trying to figure out how best to navigate this conversation you hadn’t even planned on having. “And don’t you dare lie about it,” Nat says firmly. “If you need me to keep a secret, I’ll keep it, but don’t lie to me.” You swallow again, fidgeting with your hands before you take a deep breath.

“I went to see Charlie because I wanted a lawyer’s advice.” Nat’s brow furrows.

“Advice about what?” You feel your fingers start to tremble and you clutch your hands in a fist. You just need to get the words out. You’ve said them before, to Charlie. And yet, the idea of speaking them aloud right now feels like acknowledging that they’re real.

“Principal Jackson threatened to fire me if I don’t break up with Javy.” The words leave you as you clutch your hands even tighter, averting your gaze down to them as you wait for Nat’s response.

“WHAT?!” You flinch at the intensity in her voice. “Are you kidding me? He can’t do that!” You glance up to see Nat’s face flushed with anger and you have to remind yourself that it’s not directed at you but at your situation. She turns to Charlie next, “he can’t, can he?” Charlie’s mouth purses into a thin line.

“Not outright, but it’s not hard to restructure the situation to make it look like she’s being fired for other reasons, and that’s exactly what he’s planning to do.” Nat turns back to you.

“Okay, so what are we going to do about it?” Your heart squeezes at the use of ‘we’ and your anxiety slowly starts to deflate in relief of not having to carry so much of the weight of your secret anymore.

Anxiety rises in you again for a different reason because you don’t know what you’re going to do. “I don’t know,” the words sound weak and hopeless. “It’s funny,” you hate the defeated tone in your voice even as cynicism and exhaustion colors it, “the only reason I got into a relationship with Javy in the first place was so I could keep my job, and now it’s the very thing threatening it.” You slump back into the couch, tipping your head back and studying the ceiling like it’ll hold the solution to your fate. “Except now I love my students and I love Javy,” you don’t really think about the words as your brain is muddled with dread until Nat screeches at a volume that makes you concerned for whoever shares the wall behind you. She smacks your arm in excitement and you smile at her sheepishly.

“YOU SAID IT. Look at you! Okay, so you’re not breaking up with Javy, obviously. But you shouldn’t have to give up your job just because of that. Javy’s made bad choices, but you definitely shouldn’t have to pay for them.”

“And yet,”

“Don’t ’and yet’ me.” She turns back to Charlie. “What’s your professional opinion? Should we sue the school?” Your eyes widen in shock, and you sit up, shaking your head vehemently.

“Nat, we’re not suing anyone!” She turns back to you, brow furrowed.

“And why not?” You blink, surprised at the pushback.

“One, that’ll just make things worse, and I’ll probably still have to quit my job even if I win the lawsuit because it’ll ruin my relationship with the school. Two, I’m a kindergarten teacher, I can’t afford a lawsuit let alone a lawyer.”

“Well you have a lawyer,” Nat waves at Charlie and you wince.

“This isn’t even Charlie’s department, I went to him for advice, not to actually hire him.” You give him an apologetic look. “No offense,”

“None taken. I’d love to help, but I’m not sure how much I can do in a professional capacity. I wouldn’t be the best lawyer for your case, and I’m also employed by a firm, so who I represent affects not only me but them as well. You wouldn’t be a client, because we’re a sports law firm and you’re not a professional athlete, at least not to my knowledge.”

“Do you have friends?” You stifle a snort at the way Nat’s question comes out.

“Jeez Trace, invite a man for coffee and then insult his social circle.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” Nat rolls her eyes. “We both know you don’t have any friends.” Your snort escapes even as Charlie mimes injury.

“You wound me.”

“You’ll live,” she chirps, voice saccharine sweet. “But seriously, what are we going to do about Roadie’s situation?”

“I suggested we get Zam involved, try to take control of the narrative, paint Roadie as the sweet, girl-next-door, non-celebrity girlfriend that made Javy turn over a new leaf, but she said she wasn’t on board.”

Nat turns to you, frowning, “Why not? It’s a good idea. Make yourself irreplaceable in the public eye, and the school has to think twice about trying to break you two up.”

You shake your head. “Sure, but then they’ll just fire me. It doesn’t solve anything.”

“It does, though. It’s nothing but good press for the school. The school already benefits from being linked to the Fitch family, but add in your notoriety and affluent parents are going to be more likely to send their children there.”

She has a point, but it still doesn’t sit well with you. “My relationship with Javy isn’t a game. I know it started that way, but it wasn’t real back then, so it was different. Now it’s real, and the only people it belongs to are us. Javy doesn’t deserve to be used like that. I never want to feel like I’m loving him for any reason other than because of my feelings for him. That’s not a relationship. All everyone cares about is the fact that he’s this bigshot hockey player who makes tons of money, but I don’t care about any of that. I love him because he’s sweet, thoughtful, and considerate. And sure, the relationship feels real right now, but if we start playing pretend, even if it’s just for the cameras, it’ll seep into our lives and everything will become a game that I don’t want to play. I’m not gambling everything I’ve gained these past few months on a race that’s been rigged from the start.”

You shake your head as the reality of your situation becomes all too clear. “That’s not the kind of person I am, and I’m tired of changing who I am to try to keep this job. Someone once told me I never have to do anything that makes me feel uncomfortable. So I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing. I’m not giving up Javy, but I’m not giving my students up either. You told me to become irreplaceable? I can do that, but not to the world. I’m good at my job. I don’t like saying it, because pride isn’t what motivates me to do it. But I’m good at my job. I work hard for my students and I keep my head down while I do it. If they want to fire me, they can try, but I won’t make it an easy decision for them.” You take a deep breath. “So that’s what I’m going to do. I know it’s not big, or showy, and it seems like I’m giving up, but I’m not. I’m not big or showy either, but it’s what makes me me. I’m not changing myself up for anyone, whether that’s the press, Javy, or Principal Jackson.” You’re out of breath and emotional.

Your cheeks are hot and you can feel your throat closing as tears of frustration prick at your eyes. You’re caught off guard when Nat wraps her arms around you in a hug, squeezing you tight and you hug her back. “Just let us know what we can do to help. We’re here for you, no matter what, for both of you.” Maybe you’ve never been a fighter before, but you’ve also never had an army of people willing to stand beside you before either. And maybe, for once, you actually stand a chance.

The biggest downside to working at a private school like Acadia Academy is that most of your students’ parents are rich, sometimes outrageously so. With that money comes power and authority, and they feel no qualms about exerting in whatever way gets them their desired results. It also means that their usually too busy being rich to have an active role in their children's lives. The resulting conferences are usually akin to talking to a brick wall. The parents are usually concerned with little more than visible and sometimes exclusively numerical results when it comes to their children rather than taking constructive feedback on how they can get involved in their child’s education, or in some cases, raising. Worse, they're usually more than willing to achieve those results by material or financial means. You’d been shocked the first time you’d been presented with the barrage of gift baskets, cards, and bottles of wine during your first Christmas at Acadia Academy. They were either sent with your students who were none the wiser, or dropped off personally with saccharine smiles paired with a threatening gaze that communicated the true intentions of the lavish gifts.

You’d been gripped with a sense of guilt and shame as you tried to decide what to do with them when Simon had given you some good advice. “Do whatever you want, it’s your job at the end of the day. But don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They don’t bat an eye at the expense, so you shouldn’t either. I save a boatload on groceries in December just living off the free food and even more on gifts themselves. If you’re going to be a part of the system, you have to play the game too, but there’s nothing wrong with enjoying your winnings.” And so you did. You regifted the wine, and even some of the baskets, taking Simon’s advice and living off the rest of it. And he was right. While you’d had the odd complaint later down the line, you had yet to face any real retaliation from any of the parents when you didn’t automatically hand their children the grades they paid for.

You glance at the schedule on your desk, in an effort to mentally prepare yourself for whoever you’d have to face first. Your lips turn down as you read Allison’s name in the first slot.

Allison is the unofficial head of the parents, a perfect, polished, model PTA mother. She’s informed, always on top of the class and school’s goings on, and eager to help when volunteers are needed, always going above and beyond. Sometimes you wonder if she’s gunning for your job, but that’s highly unlikely. Allison is a private yoga instructor, allowing her the freedom to be involved with the school and her children’s lives whenever she wants. When she’s not bending over backward for a living, she’s busy running PTA meetings, escorting her children to their multiple extracurriculars, and being the doting wife to her husband, Ted, whom you’ve only met once. He works in some kind of local governmental office, one that he and Allison would have you believe is incredibly important and thus a very pressing commitment that unfortunately results in his constant absence from his children’s lives.

A sharp knock at your door snaps your attention back to the present and you sit up straight, clearing your desk of papers from your morning classes as you call out for Allison to come in. Your attention lingers on your desks for a moment longer than it should before you look up at Allsion’s approaching figure. Her high heels click against the linoleum and you’re struck by how much she reminds you of your first impression of Zam.

When you’d first met the PR manager of the Dogfighters, her sharp appearance and no-nonsense attitude had instantly made you think of Allison. As you’ve gotten to know her, however, you’ve learned that that persona is reserved for work and she’s much more relaxed and loose in her personal life. While Zam’s wardrobe is bright pastels, Allison opts for deep jewel tones that ooze luxury and wealth. Today she’s wearing a silk blouse in a vibrant royal blue that compliments her piercing blue eyes. Her blonde hair falls in glossy waves that bounce with every sharp step she takes. Allison deposits a purse that probably costs your month’s salary on your desk with a clunk before sitting across from you, back straight not touching the back of the chair, and ankles crossed daintily.

Before you can open your mouth to greet her, Allison speaks up “Ms. Roadie, this meeting couldn’t have come at a better time. I have something of critical importance that I need to discuss with you.” With Allison, something of critical importance ranges from another mother’s lack of attendance at this week’s PTA meeting to a child suffering a severe allergic response due to them innocently sharing another student’s lunch so you’re not quite sure where she’s going with this. You wrack your brain, trying to remember if you’d received any emails from her or another parent that could help you identify what she’s about to share. Nothing, however, could prepare you for when the words leave her mouth. “We need to speak candidly about your relationship with Javy Machado.” You wait for the punchline as your stomach roils in response to the one-two punch of hearing Javy’s name from Allison’s lips. Anxiety starts to bubble up as your great rate picks up and fear starts clawing up your throat. You clasp your hands in your lap in anticipation of their incoming trembling. The swallow you try to force down is physically painful as you fight to keep your face neutral.

“Oh? Why so?” As you panic internally, you do your best to think about what Josie would do. She’d probably point out that your personal life has nothing to do with your professional life. Allison’s ruby-red lips purse together and her perfectly manicured nails clack on your desk as she leans in, face somber despite the intensity in her eyes.

“Ms. Roadie, I’m sure you’re aware, but if you aren’t, your boyfriend has a bit of a,” she pauses as if considering her words but you’re sure she rehearsed this interaction on her drive here, “reputation.” She gives you a pointed look. “And a rather poor one at that.”

Anger flares in your chest, the lick of its flames further boiling the butterflies in your stomach. You don’t recognize your voice when you speak. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” Maybe it’s the fragility that comes with your anxiety but you’re furious. How dare Allison bring Javy into this? It was common knowledge among both the staff and the parents that Jeremy was more than a little cavalier in his personal life, and you’re sure he’d never had to deal with a meeting like this from the administration let alone a parent.

Allison looks surprised at your response, whether it’s faux or genuine you’re not sure. “But Ms. Roadie, of course, it is! Mr. Machado is a celebrity!” You grimace internally at the emphasis she puts on the word. “He’s a person of prominence, especially in the media! Imagine how that reflects on the school when one of its teachers is involved with him and so publically at that.” She speaks about it like you’ve been caught doing something illegal in public. The media has some photos of kisses at most as well as your attendance at some games, it’s hardly anything worthy of Allison’s reaction.

“Allison, I’m aware that my boyfriend is a public figure, but what I do in my personal life is none of your business, especially when it doesn’t involve or hinder my performance at my job.”

Allison raises an accusatory eyebrow. “Oh, but doesn’t it? Mr. Machado has visited this class at least twice that I’ve been here, maybe more.” Your stomach drops. She does have a point there.

You swallow painfully as you struggle to keep your ground. “Both instances involved days where parents and guardians were invited to attend and participate in class activities. For Octopus Soup Day, he participated as a volunteer the same as any other guest, and for Career Day I thought it would be a fun surprise for the students and a unique opportunity to learn about a career that otherwise wouldn’t have been represented at the event. He hasn’t visited any other classes. Neither of those are examples of unprofessional behavior.”

“Perhaps not in theory, but blatantly flirting with your partner in front of your students would be, would it not?” You feel your cheeks flame with heat as Allison’s accusations get more and more intrusive. Your stomach twists in guilt as you remember Javy feeding you octopus stew while your class was enjoying their food. Sure, you hadn’t been actively teaching at the time, but you’d still been working, so she wasn’t wrong. Your behavior had been unprofessional.

“I apologize for any behavior that seemed unprofessional, Allison.” The words are bitter on your tongue as you speak them. “I’ll take this into consideration and Mr. Machado will not be invited to future class events if you feel his presence is distracting to the students.” There, that should placate her enough so that you can change the subject back to the actual reason for this meeting. Allison clicks her tongue in what you hope is resignation. “Now, we’re going to shift this conversation to Penny since that’s the purpose of this meeting and I have a back-to-back schedule for the rest of the afternoon.”

***

Thankfully, Allison had allowed your change of topics to her daughter, and the rest of the meeting went off without a hitch. After she left you’d had to go straight into your next meeting, however, and by the time you’re finally done meeting with parents for the day, you’re exhausted mentally and emotionally. You hadn’t expected Allison to bring up Javy but if you’re honest, it had only been a matter of time until someone did. None of the other parents had brought up Javy at all for which you were thankful and hopefully, Allison would drop the topic now that you’d had a conversation about it.

You grab your stuff and prepare to leave for the day. The boys are in town for the next week until they leave on another road trip that will culminate in the game in Dallas. While part of you knows you should be speaking as much time with Javy as possible before he leaves, the conversation with Allison has you feeling odd. Unsubstantiated guilt gnaws at your stomach as you make your way to the parking lot. You’re so wrapped up in your thoughts that you’re taken completely by surprise when arms wrap around you, swinging you off the ground. “Hey Meep, how was your day?” You shriek in surprise, pushing against Javy so that he puts you down, laughing. “Sorry, sorry, I thought you saw me coming!” Your heart is racing and your eyes scan the parking lot around you, looking for parents that maybe haven’t left yet.

“Javy, what are you doing here?” You grimace internally at the accusation in your tone but your emotions are still on edge after your conversation with Allison. You see something in his eyes shift as he reaches a hand out to touch your arm.

“We got let out of practice early so I thought I’d surprise you. Roadie, you okay?” You swallow as your eyes make another scan of the parking lot and you fight the urge to shrug off his touch.

“Yeah, I’m just tired, sorry. I had a long day, and you scared me, but I’m okay.” His thumb swipes a soothing motion across your arm and you feel some of your nerves settling even as anxiety churns in your stomach.

“Josie said parent-teacher conferences are tough, so I figured you could use a pick me up. I was thinking maybe we could have a night in, maybe get some pizza and ice cream?” Your heart aches at Javy’s thoughtfulness.

“That sounds perfect.” He smiles and you feel some of your nerves ease as his expression relaxes.

“Come on, I’ll drive. And don’t worry about your car, I can drop you off tomorrow if you feel safe leaving your car here tonight.”

“Can you just drop me off on the way home tonight? I’ll drive it home from here.” Javy nods.

“That works, but I hope you don’t mind if I follow to make sure you get home safe.” You nod as Javy’s sweetness continues to untangle the jumble of nerves in your stomach.

You climb into the Landrover and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence as you crawl through San Diego traffic. The silence gives you a chance to relax and slowly you’re able to get yourself back to normal. Your brain moves on from Allison’s words to other things.

“Javy, can I ask you something?” Javy glances over to where you’ve leaned up against the window, letting the glass cool your skin.

“Sure thing, Meep, what’s up?”

“Why don’t you and Bradley get along?” You watch his eyebrows raise in surprise even as his lips purse slightly.

“It’s not that we don’t get along per se,” you give him a look that says you don’t believe a word of it. “What?”

“Javy, every time I go to a game I’m more worried that the two of you are going to get into a fight than I am that you’re going to fight someone on the other team.” Javy chuckles at that and you reach out to poke his arm and he turns to smirk at you.

“It’s that bad, huh? Don’t worry, Meep, I wouldn’t risk a penalty for that.” You poke him again, harder. “Ow! I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Look, do I get along with Bradley? Not really. I get that you’re supposed to be closer to your D partner but I’ve tried and he just won’t have it. Hell, even when he was sullen and hostile all the time, he was too busy being grumpy to consider that we could be self-destructive together.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?” You suggest and Javy barks a laugh.

“Talk to him? The guy’s a stone wall. You try talking to Bradley, you’ll see what I mean.”

“I have and he’s actually quite the talker once you get him to open up.” Javy looks at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“You've talked to him? When?”

You shrug. “On family day, he needed my help corralling Taz.”

“So that’s where you were,” he mutters and you see something unreadable cross Javy’s face as his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

“Javy… what is it?” You don’t particularly feel like having this conversation now, you’re exhausted, but you can’t stand the idea of something else wedging its way between you and Javy right now. “Nothing happened, we just talked.”

“I know. I wouldn’t accuse you of…,” Javy drags a hand down his face, “Shit. Roadie I just…” You reach over the console to place a reassuring hand on his knee.

“I’m here, take your time.” You whisper and he gives you a pained smile.

“It’s just…” he shakes his head. “Bradley’s a good guy, Roadie. He wasn’t always, but you didn’t know him then. He’s really cleaned up his act and now he’s like this perfect boyfriend. Zam’s always going on about how sweet and thoughtful he is, and I’m so happy for her, don’t get me wrong. She’s one of my best friends, she deserves the world and I’m glad Bradley gives it to her, but I just…” Javy pauses for a long moment like he has to force the words out. “I can’t be him. I try, but I just can’t. I’m always making mistakes, and I’m trying, I really am. I want to be better. I know what everyone thinks of me, and I try to make it look like I don’t care, but I do.”

“Jake’s my best friend, and he’s always been this perfect golden boy. He doesn’t seem capable of doing anything wrong. I’ve known him long enough to know that isn’t true, but overall, he’s a good person. I always felt like I couldn’t measure up. No matter how much I tried, I always came up short next to him. And it was tearing me up so much that I had to let it go, because I realized if I didn’t it was going to tear us apart and I couldn’t bear the idea of losing him. When he went to Dallas, as much as I resented him for leaving, I realized I could breathe again. I became more sure of myself and more confident in my abilities, but without him to challenge me, I got arrogant. I let my ego get in the way of my professional and personal life. You know, I used to be embarrassed about all my one-night stands? And then the more arrogant I got on the ice, the more I felt like I’d earned that privilege to be cavalier. I was good at my job so my actions outside of it didn’t have consequences.”

“When I came to San Diego, I was so excited to see Jake, to be playing on a team with him again. I wasn’t surprised when he made me an alternate captain because that’s how we’ve always been. We’re a great team, and we work well together. But while I’d grown past the part of myself that made me feel small when I played on the ice with him, I didn’t expect him to turn my moral compass on its head.” Javy lets out a dry laugh. “He was all grown up, ready to settle down. He bought a house, he had a dog, and then he got Bugs, and they became this perfect little family. Meanwhile, I was out every night with some girl whose name I didn’t even bother to know. And I didn’t let it bother me, because sure Jake was perfect but at least Bradley had baggage up to his eyeballs. I was playing with this guy who had anger issues that put the team in jeopardy every game but he had that same A on his chest as me. So surely, I wasn’t an imposter. And then Bradley had to go and get perfect too. He got with Zam and suddenly he was this great guy, thoughtful, sweet, and responsible, and everything changed. Suddenly both our captain and one of our alternate captains were these perfect guys, model players, and good role models to the other guys. And then there was me.”

“Honestly? Every day, I get closer to just telling Jake I can’t wear that A anymore. I didn’t earn it, and I haven’t worked to prove I deserve it either. And now we’re together, and I feel it even more. I don’t deserve you, and I wouldn’t blame you if you were more interested in a guy that has his shit together. It’s not that I don’t trust you, because I do. I just… sometimes I just wonder why you even bother to put up with me.” The last line rushes out before Javy takes a heavy breath like he’s waiting for you to climb out of the car in stand-still traffic and walk back to your apartment. Instead, you squeeze his knee where your hand still rests.

“Have you ever considered, Javy? That maybe I don’t want someone perfect?” He turns to look at you and the surprise in his eyes breaks your heart. “I’m anxious. I’m anxious all the time, and I’m also human. I make mistakes all the time.” Your stomach twists as you hear Allison’s accusatory tone in your mind again. “And the only thing more anxiety-inducing than my own mistakes would be being with someone perfect.” You shrug. “Is it easy? No, of course not. But I’m not easy either.” You chuckle. “I mean you literally had to talk me down from a panic attack on our first date.” You give him a pointed look as you squeeze his knee again. “You’re not perfect? So what, neither am I, but we’re both aware of it and trying to get better and that’s what counts. We’ll work together. You said it yourself, Bradley wasn’t always perfect. I’m sure Zam didn't just snap her fingers to make him change overnight, as amusing as that would be. So if Bradley can do it, who says you can’t?” Javy brings a hand down off the wheel to lace his fingers with yours.

“And another thing,” you squeeze his hand, gently. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’ve been pretty perfect to me,” he gives you a skeptical look, “well, mostly perfect. I mean, just look at today. You could have gone home and enjoyed the rest of your day, but you came to pick me up because you thought I’d be tired after parent-teacher conferences. Even if you did want to spend the evening with me, you could have just texted and asked me to come over, but you knew I’d appreciate not having to drive. So even if you don’t see it, I do, and I appreciate it. I appreciate you.” Javy looks away and you think you catch light reflecting off the wetness in his eyes.

“Thank you, Roadie.” His voice is rough. “I think I really needed to hear that.” You squeeze his hand in yours before leaning across the console to rest your head on his shoulder.

“I really needed this too,” you whisper and Javy turns to press a kiss to your head. While you couldn’t shake the nerves that still bubbled under the surface from your conversation with Allison, Javy had managed to soothe most of your anxiety from the day. You’d have to talk to him about what had happened today eventually, but for today, you were content to bask in this moment of peace with your boyfriend.

Javy leads you to the break room where you’d first been introduced to the team to find it already occupied by a few guys and their families. You see wives, a few babies, and even a few toddlers and small kids running around. Javy sets the trays on some tables set up at the front of the room. You wince slightly as you take in a meticulously crafted charcuterie board and various trays of fancy-looking hors d'oeuvres that look straight out of Pinterest. Suddenly your brownies seem silly, out of place at what’s definitely much more of an adult event than you’d anticipated. They would be a lot more at home at a school bake sale.

“Hey,” you tear your gaze from the table to see Javy giving you a concerned look. “They’re perfect,” he says firmly, like he can read your mind. He reaches over to lace his fingers with yours. “Don’t worry about them,” he reassures you. “You’re not the one that misread the invite.” You're about to tell him that you don’t believe him but don’t get the chance as an arm is thrown around your shoulder, jostling you as a blonde head cranes over your shoulder.

“Oooo, what’d you two bring?” Jake asks as he scans the table. “Oh, fuck yes, brownies!” He whoops, reaching past you to grab a square. “Finally, some real food,” he grumbles around the brownie that made a beeline to his mouth. “Roadie these are the best, I’m so glad you could come!” The arm around your shoulders squeezes you in an awkward hug.

“Jake!” The three of you look up towards the voice to see Bugs frowning at him. She places her own trays down on the table as she shakes her head. “You have no self-control you know,” she chides as the frown dissolves. Jake gives her a chocolatey grin in response and she rolls her eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I made sure they were healthy. I know you and Penny work really hard on their dietary plans, so I tried to keep them as nutritious as possible.” You pipe up in an attempt to further dissolve the situation.

“Oh!” Bugs looks surprised and you wonder if you’ve made yet another blunder until the expression melts into a huge grin. “I was upset that he ran straight in here without me when I asked him to wait.” She gives Jake a pointed look and he has the good sense to look chagrined. “It wasn’t because of the brownies, I promise! He’s fine to eat brownies, they all are, but I really appreciate your attention to that concern. Anything helps, and I really appreciate it.”

“I’m sorry, Bunny, but I was just so excited to see my best friend,” Jake pouts at Bugs before giving you another squeeze.

“I thought I was your best friend,” Javy says with a playful scowl.

“Nah, you can’t cook for shit, I’m trading you in for Roadie.” He ruffles your hair gently as your cheeks heat in response.

“Javy helped make the brownies, actually. He did a whole tray himself.” You pipe up in support of your boyfriend and Javy sticks his tongue out at Jake.

“And they didn’t burn? Damn, Roadie, you really are a miracle worker.” He finally releases you from the hug, turning back to his girlfriend.

“Where are the dogs?” He asks and she puts her hands on her hips.

“Where do you think, mister? You ran straight in here without helping, they’re still in the truck. Hopefully, they’re destroying your seats as retribution.”

Jake disappears out the door with a muttered “fuck” under his breath and you swear you can see a tiny cartoon whoosh of smoke in his wake.

“Who’s the Roadrunner, now?” Bugs jokes and Javy chuckles as he heads out the door after his best friend. Roxie squirms in your arms and you set her down as Bugs uncovers a tray of what looks like bacon-wrapped shrimp. She follows your gaze and laughs nervously, “I know I’m supposed to be a better influence, but Jake insisted on them.” You wave her concern off.

“They look great,” you reassure her, glancing around for plates and napkins. “Do we have…” Bugs heaves a sigh, shaking her head as she scans the room.

“Bob and Dragon were supposed to bring that stuff, I expected them to be here by now.”

“I can run to the store,” you offer.

“No need,” a voice interrupts and the two of you turn to where Bradley enters the break room. Zam’s behind him, armed with grocery bags full of serving supplies.

“Rule number one, Bugs? If you want something done on time? Do it yourself. And never, NEVER, put the boys in charge of utensils.” Zam says as she sets the bags on the ground and starts unpacking them at one end of the table.

“Noted.” Bugs nods with a chuckle and barks echo down the hallway, signaling Jake’s return. Roxie perks up and heads out the door. You’re torn over chasing after her, but Javy should be with Jake.

Bradley’s looking towards the door with an uncomfortable expression on his face. “The dogs come to family day?” He mutters under his breath and Zam rolls her eyes, clapping him on the arm.

“What’s wrong, Bear? You afraid of a few dogs?” You can see the humor glinting in her eyes at Bradley’s discomfort.

“No,” he grumbles as the doorway explodes in a mass of fur. You don’t realize you’ve been hit until you’re staring at the ceiling, your face is being covered with slobber, a heavy weight settled on your chest. You let out a soundless gasp of surprise as your lungs heave at the squish on them. You hear some yelling before the weight alleviates and you’re catching your breath, still staring at the ceiling until a familiar wet nose nudges at your cheek, concerned.

“I’m okay, Roxie, it’s okay.” You assure the dachshund as you sit up, your head spinning slightly as you readjust.

“Meep, are you okay?” Javy sounds genuinely worried as he drops down next to you, a hand at your back supporting you. Jake looks guilty as he maintains a hold on the collar of a frankly enormous dog. She’s a gigantic mass of copper fur and her eyes are dancing between the excitement that bowled you over and confusion at being held back.

“She didn’t mean to hurt you, she just gets excited,” Jake apologizes and you wave him off.

“It’s okay, I’m fine. Just a little surprised is all.” You assure him as Javy runs a tentative finger over the back of your head, checking for a bump where you hit it on the ground. You wince as he presses on a particularly sensitive area and he waves Bugs over. She squats down on your other side. Taking over the prodding from Javy. “I’m fine, really. It’s just a little spot, I’m fine I swear.” You feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment from all the attention being brought to you.

“Why don’t you move this to your office, Bugs?” Bradley suggests, brown eyes meeting yours with a look of understanding. He comes over and offers you a hand up, carefully easing you to your feet. You squeeze his hand in thanks as Javy and Bugs lead you out of the room.

“Do you want me to carry you, Meep?” You wave him off.

“I’m fine, really.”

“Bugs you have to check her for a concussion.” Javy insists and Bugs nods, leading you to an examination room.

“I’ll take it from here, Javy, you head back.” He hesitates but Bugs isn’t going to budge so he eventually relents. When you enter the room, you feel a little silly taking a seat on the examination table.

“I don’t have a concussion,” you say as soon as Bugs closes the door. She turns to you with a smirk.

“Oh, I know. Those boys are just a bunch of big babies, so it’s best to indulge them.” She sits down on the stool across the room. “Well just hang out here for a bit and then go back.” She opens a drawer and pulls out a ziplock bag. “You want a gummy bear?” You take one and the two of you sit in silence for a moment. “Do you want some ice for your head? I know it’s nothing, but it could help with potential swelling.”

You shake your head. “It already feels fine. I was more surprised than hurt, honestly.”

Bugs heaves a sigh. “I’m always telling Jake he needs to keep Pudding on a leash, especially when he brings her here. She just gets so excited when she’s around people, especially new ones.” You nod in understanding.

“Thanks again for making the brownies, I really appreciate you putting in the thought to make them more healthy, and for actually making something fun. So many of the other WAGs just make cocktail food and forget that these guys play a game for a living. They have the collective maturity of a five-year-old.” The two of you giggle at that. “Honestly, that’s probably why you’re so good with Javy.” She points out. “You do this for a living.”

“I’d say he’s more like a puppy than anything else.” You admit. “He’s got good intentions, he’s just bad at showing it.”

“Thanks for being patient with him. I know it’s not easy, but you’re right, he’s a good guy at his core, you just have to be willing to spend the time to see it.” You smile at Bug’s words.

“I’m not exactly a cakewalk either,” you admit, thinking about how much of your antics Javy has had to put up with over the past few weeks.

Bugs shrugs and you see a faraway look in her eye. “None of us are, it’s what makes us people. All we have to do is find the right kind of people who're willing to handle all our bumps and bruises.” She’s right, you realize. You’d been so nervous to be yourself around Javy at first, trying your best to hide your fears and anxieties. And while they didn’t make you the easiest person to deal with, Javy had been nothing but patient with you. He literally rode through a panic attack with you on your first date. And by some miracle, he still wanted to be with you. There were plenty of people that would be easier for him to be with, and yet he’d chosen you. “Just because it’s difficult, it doesn't mean you’re not worth loving,” Bugs says, eyes soft. “Jake taught me that. And I’d bet that Zam taught Bradley that too. And if Javy’s not trying to show you that in his own roundabout way, then maybe he’s gone headfirst into the boards one too many times. I, for one, love having you as a part of our little family.” You feel your cheeks heat over Bugs’s sweet and heartfelt words.

“I’ve never really had a group of friends before,” it comes out less of a blurt and more of a quiet admission. “So it’s overwhelming, having so many people express interest in me all of a sudden. But just because I’m having trouble processing it, doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it. You’ve all been so nice and welcoming and I really am thankful for you all.”

“This world is a lot for anyone,” Bugs says with a tired smile, “it’s hard enough without having to navigate it alone. That’s what draws everyone together, I think. The world of professional athletes can be so far removed, and the minute you get involved with one, whether that’s as a family member, a friend, or a partner, you’re dragged right along into that world whether you like it or not. Zam and I already work in this, but at least we had a choice when we decided to fully step into the spotlight. You didn’t get that choice. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.”

You remember the horror in your stomach when you found out about the photos of you and Javy first went viral. You’d been sorely tempted to just call in sick for the rest of the day and lock yourself in your apartment for the rest of your days. Even after you’d started dating Javy, you’d found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder expecting photographers to have found you, desperate to pry open your personal life and expose it for the world to see. You were hyper-aware of the way people looked at you, from strangers at the grocery store to your coworkers to your students’ parents. You already went through your daily life fearing the attention and eyes of others, but your overnight exposure to the world had just amplified that. “It was, but all of you made it worth it,” you admit. “It felt like my world was ending for a second there, but having a support system really helped me get back on my feet. And sure, it’s not an ideal situation, but I’m never going to fault Javy for that. He’s doing what he loves and I know how that feels. There’s no better feeling. And this is just a small price to pay to have him, and all of you.”

Bugs’s smile is tender, “you really like him don’t you?”

You feel your cheeks heat in response as well as over the obvious word substitution that does little to diminish its weight in your mind, before nodding shyly. “Believe me, I’m just as surprised as anyone, but yeah, yeah I do.”

Before you Bugs can respond, a knock comes at the door to the office and Nat sticks her head into the room. “Sorry to break up the party, ladies. How’s your ‘concussion’ doing Roadie?” She rolls her eyes as she says this and you giggle waving off her concern.

“Nothing the curative properties of gummy bears and some girl talk can’t cure,” Bugs says as Nat lets herself in. She perches on Bugs’s desk, taking a gummy bear from the bag that Bugs holds out. “What’s up?”

Nat waggles her eyebrows suggestively, “There’s a dark and mysterious man asking for you in the break room.” Bugs’s eyes light up.

“Charlie! He actually came!” Nat’s eyes bug out of her head as she almost drops the gummy bear she has between her teeth.

“That broody hunk is your brother?” She asks, shocked. Bugs rolls her eyes.

“Keep that up, and I’ll tell him you said that,” she says pointedly and Nat’s cheeks pinken slightly, “I better go find him before Jake says something stupid to him,” she hurries back out into the hallway.

“So, Bugs’s brother?” You arch a curious eyebrow at Nat who rolls her eyes and chews her gummy bear loudly. When you don’t give up the look, she shrugs dramatically,

“In my defense, the family resemblance is not there. At least Bugs and Tucker look related!”

“And you think he’s cute?” You push and she barks out a laugh, shaking her head at you.

“Look at you, Little Miss Nosey, where’d she come from?” You shrug, a smile creeping up the corner of your mouth.

“I guess I just hang out with you too much,” you muse and she lets out a faux gasp.

“Roadie, how dare you!” The two of you explode into a fit of giggles.

“Okay, I’m fine, so let’s get back out there, I need to see your broody hunk,” you hold out your hand to Nat who lets out a groan.

“I hate you.”

“No, you don’t. Not really.”

“Here I was thinking you’d be able to fix Javy, and he just turned you into him.” She bemoans as you drag her towards the door to the office, rolling your eyes.

***

Nat manages to escape your hold and disappears into the labyrinth that’s the hallways of the arena so you find yourself walking around, enjoying the silence, and trying to familiarize yourself with the layout. Most people are floating between the break room where the food is set up and the rink itself as the first few people have started skating. You know you’ll have to head that way eventually, so you’re about to make your way in that direction when you remember that you wanted to try one of Javy’s brownies before they’re all gone. As you approach the room, you’re surprised to find it’s quiet. You must have lost track of time. You duck in, making a beeline to the snack table, planning to just duck in and grab the brownie before hurrying over to the rink to catch up with the others so you don’t see the figure in the corner until his voice catches you off guard.

“Roadie, thank goodness, help me, please.” You whip around, eyes wide in surprise, and you blink slowly as you take in Bradley’s desperate features where he’s seated in a corner by himself. You arch an eyebrow in question before his frantic eyes glance downward, guiding your gaze to where Jake and Bugs’s pitbull puppy, Taz, is draped over his shoe, looking up at him with blue eyes full of anticipation.

“Bradley you scared me, I didn’t think there was anyone still in here,” you make your way over to where he’s sitting, your brownie forgotten for the moment. “What’s wrong?” His face is pinched in distress but you can’t see what could be causing him discomfort. “Is it a muscle cramp or something? Should I get Bugs?” Your brows furrow in concern as Bradley’s eyes widen in horror at the suggestion.

“No, no you don’t need to get Bugs, I just…” his voice trails off and his gaze shifts again to the puppy lounging on his shoe. The tips of Bradley’s ears and the tops of his cheeks are starting to pinken. “Can you just,” he clears his throat as the pink starts to blossom into an embarrassed red. “Can you get it to move?”

“It?” You frown in confusion before you realize what he’s talking about. “Wait, Taz?” Bradley nods furiously even as his blush deepens. “What’s wrong, are you allergic or something?” You examine the red splotches on Bradley’s as he shakes his head.

“I just, I don’t… It won’t stop following me.” You have to hold in the surprised laugh that bubbles up in your throat. “Ever since it got here, it’s been following me. And then I sat down and now I can’t get up.” You purse your lips together to hide the smile threatening to split across your face. Bradley’s a big guy, one of, if not the biggest guy on the team. You’ve watched him shove other men his size around like they’re nothing, and here he is, glued to his seat by a puppy not much bigger than his hand that’s lying on his foot.

“So you just want me to get him to move?” You ask and Braldey nods furiously. You squat down then, reaching out to scratch the tiny puppy’s head. He rolls over onto his back, still draped over Bradley’s shoe and you scoop him up into your arms effortlessly. As dogs go, the Seresin dogs are some of the sweetest that you’ve met. They wouldn’t hurt a fly. “There you go, big guy,” you coo at Taz. “You want to hang out with me for a little bit? I think Bradley needs a break.” The puppy squirms in your arms, tail wagging as he licks at your cheeks enthusiastically. You turn back to Bradley as Taz gets comfortable, “consider yourself a free man,” you say and he gives you a thankful look. “So you’re not a dog person, huh?”

You think you see him try to suppress a shudder. “Not really, no. I was raised by a single mom so between her job and having to race me around to hockey stuff, we didn’t really have time for pets.”

You nod. “My parents didn’t like pets, either. I had fish a few times growing up, but nothing bigger than that. Puppies are just big softies, though. They just want love,” you pause to kiss Taz on his tiny forehead. “So no dogs, how about other animals?”

Bradley shrugs, “I don’t mind cats. My godmother has one, but I think he’s still warming up to me. He doesn’t really like anyone except her. Bob has a cat too, but she’s terrifying. She’s one of those breeds that’s huge, so she doesn’t really feel like a cat. So, I don’t mind cats, but I’m not sure they like me.”

“Have you tried not frowning at them?” He gives you a look of surprise like hadn’t expected you to crack a joke but you just shrug and give him a small smile.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Animals are extremely aware of our emotions, so if you frown at them, they probably don’t think of you as a friend.” Bradley considers your words for a moment before nodding curtly.

“I’ll try it.” Your smile widens softly.

“Can I ask you another question?” You ask carefully. You haven’t had a whole lot of chances to get to know Javy’s defense partner and something’s been bothering you for a while now. Bradley gives you a wary nod.

“Why don’t you and Javy get along?” Bradley lets out a heavy sigh and you feel nerves twist in your stomach. Maybe you should have just asked Javy, but you wanted to get both sides of the story. “Sorry if I’m putting my nose where it doesn’t belong, but you’re partners, right? I’d think that would be easier if you were friends.” It sounds so childish when you say it out loud but you spend every day helping kids with conflict resolution, so you can’t help but want to help Javy and Bradley with this. You know Javy’s a good guy and you get the feeling that his brooding partner isn’t much different.

“No, you’re right.” Bradley sighs deeply. “We should be closer. I try not to let it affect the way I play, but I don’t think I’m as good at it as I think I am.” You nod, silently encouraging him to continue. “I’ve been in this league a long time, twelve years. And even before that, I’ve been playing hockey as long as I can remember, and I’ve seen a hundred guys like Javy. They let the power the world gives them get to their head. They live life like they’re untouchable like there won’t ever be consequences to their actions, even when they play a game where there always is.” He has a good point. When you’d first been introduced to them, you’d been perplexed by the concept of penalties, power-plays, and penalty kills, but as rough-and-tumble as hockey is, there are consequences to a player’s actions that directly affect the outcome of the game. “And while I’ve seen some guys get off scot-free, I’ve also seen guys who get burned and burned bad. They ruin their lives or worse, ruin someone else’s and walk away unscathed.”

“When I was playing in Philadelphia, we had this rookie join the team. And these rookies, they’re these 18-year-old, fresh-faced kids who get handed a salary that’s more money than they know what to do with and get thrust into a world where they’re essentially celebrities. They have money, they have power, and they run around like a kid in a candy store, testing the limits of those things. Anyway, this kid, he’d been a hotshot in college and it wasn’t a matter of whether he got drafted to the NHL, just a matter of what team. He had an ego the size of a truck and didn’t have a lick of sense in his head.” Bradley chuckles, his voice sounding almost fond.

“My coach knew that, however, and he had this kid move in with me. And I hated him. He was so young and fresh and I didn’t want to have to come home after a long day and play parent. And yet, I did. It wasn’t easy, but I managed to wrangle him and get some sense in his head. It wasn’t easy by any means. There were even nights that I locked him out of the house for staying out too late, and it started affecting the locker room. And of course, he tried tattling to the coaches. I thought it was over for me, honestly. Coach called me into his office one day and I thought I was getting traded or something, but instead, he thanked me. He said ‘he doesn’t appreciate it now, but he has no idea how good he has it.’ He was right of course. We worked things out, eventually.” Bradley pauses, a soft smile on his lips. “And now he’s one of my best friends.” You smile too and you can see the fondness in Bradley’s eyes. “You know, just the other day he called me and he said he asked our coach if he could take in one of the rookies next year.”

“So that’s why you’re tough on Javy?” You ask, softly. He nods, turning to look at you.

“I know he’s a good guy, even if I don’t show it. And he’s a good player, better than me, but he’s not going to change if I tell him that.” You nod in understanding. “Well, that, and he won’t stop flirting with my girlfriend.” Bradley scowls and you laugh at that. “I know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but it still pisses me off.”

“That’s fair. The player you were talking about, what’s his name?”

“Wyatt Eaton, he still plays for Philadelphia. You’ll probably get a chance to meet him the next time the Flyers come to town.”

“I’d love that,” you say and Bradley returns your smile.

“You've been good for him,” Bradley says and you feel your cheeks heat at the compliment. “I still stand by the fact that you deserve someone better than him, but as long as you’re happy, I’m rooting for the two of you.” You smile shyly, bumping your shoulder against his.

“I am. Thanks, Bradley. And thanks for taking care of Javy, I really appreciate it.” He just nods in response. “We should probably get to the rink. Can you grab me a brownie? I want to make sure I get one of Javy’s before they’re gone, and my hands are kind of full.” Bradley goes over to the snack table and you follow still carrying Taz.

“So Javy actually made these?” He sounds suspicious.

“Under my supervision, don’t worry, but yeah he did.” You can’t help the pride in your voice as Bradley cuts off two pieces, wrapping one in a napkin before biting into the other. Your stomach drops as you wait for his reaction. He hums thoughtfully, nodding quietly.

“Not bad, Machado, not bad.” He says and you grin. “Alright, let’s go.”

***

When the two of you make it to the rink, you see that most people are already skating. You see the guys cheering as Zam skates gracefully across the ice, jumping and spinning with the practiced perfection of a figure skater. Bradley’s eyes are on her the moment you enter the rink, a smile on his lips whether he realizes it or not. You deposit Taz where Pudding and Roxie are lying together in the visitors’ bench area before coming back to where Bradley’s pulling on his skates with a practiced ease you’re slightly jealous of. You sit down on the bench next to him, reaching for your skates that Javy already brought over. They still feel clunky as you awkwardly shove your feet into them. You’re sure they’ll be better once you break them in.

Bradley’s voice startles you, “Machado, stop gawking and come help your girl.” Your cheeks heat as Javy’s head whips around and then he’s whizzing towards the bench.

“Meep! You made it!” You’re still shocked by how easily he swings himself over the boards instead of using the tiny door at one end. “Here, let me help!” He drops to his knees in front of you and your cheeks heat in embarrassment.

“I can do it, Javy,” you try to protest but he just gives you a sweet grin.

“I know, but I want to.” Well, who are you to stop him, then? You awkwardly wait as he guides your feet into the skates and laces them up like he did last time. “Alright, Meep,” he claps a hand on your ankle, “you ready for this?” His tone is jovial but his eyes are cautious, searching yours for doubts. You swallow hard, trying to banish the butterflies from your stomach.

“You won’t let me fall, right?” You whisper and Javy’s smile softens.

“Never,” you nod, then, holding out your hands to him.

“Okay, I’m ready.” He stands, then, carefully helping you to your feet before guiding you to hold onto the boards while he swings over and then he holds your hands as you clomp over to the tiny door and nudge it open with your hip. Your legs wobble as you step onto the ice. Whoops and cheers explode from the other side of the rink and you look up to see your friends watching you. Nat skates over, face beaming.

“Roadie, you made it! Look at you!” Her excitement is infectious and you find yourself smiling. She holds out her hand you give her one of yours so now you’re anchored between her and Javy. They lead you as you skate over to the others.

“Looking good, Roadie!” Jake calls out as you reach the group where they're waiting for you.

“You’re looking much better than I was the first time I tried,” Josie points out, pride shining in her eyes. “I fell on my face in front of all of Reuben’s friends because I got cocky.” She winces at the memory.

“Yeah, Roadie, you’re a natural!” Zam pipes up. “You’re sure you haven’t skated before?” You shake your head.

“Not before last time, no.”

As you chat with the others and catch up as you skate along with them, holding Javy’s hand in yours, you feel your self-consciousness slowly start to melt away with all the kind words and camaraderie. Bugs was right, this community is important. You were right too, as hard as the past month has been for you, it was worth it to have a group of friends like this. They were more than just friends, this felt like a family and you were glad to have it.

“Cut the shit, Tom,” snapped Bradley. You turned to look at him, reeling back from the fury in your older brother’s eyes. His jaw clenched tight as his nostrils flared, hands curled into fists as his face flushed with anger.

“Bradley,” Tom sighed, inhaling more of the tobacco.

“I don’t get it.”

You turned to look at Jake, the blond man standing there with his brow knit and eyes darting around looking for answers.

“The old man from the tavern?” He asked, looking at you for confirmation, green eyes lost as he tried to process what was happening. “I don’t understand. Where’s Davy?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Growled Bradley, sneering at the older man. “Tom is Davy. He’s been Davy Jones this entire time, and he’s never said a damn thing.”

“Would you have believed me if I had?” Tom challenged, no real heat to his tone as he stared down the younger man.

“I might have,” Bradley shot back, venom dripping from his tone. “If you had tried to warn me from signing up for this crew, I might have listened.”

“You’re a bad liar, Bradley,” Tom snorted. “Always have been. You’d have called me an old fool had I told you who I really was without proof.”

“Then why didn’t you prove it? Why did you just let me sign up? None of this had to happen!” Screamed Bradley, voice echoing off the rocky walls of the cliffs, making you flinch.

“I couldn’t very well reveal myself in front of a room full of people, boy,” Tom glared, jaw ticking as he fought to keep his temper at bay. “Not when it wouldn’t have made a difference. You had already made your decision.”

Bradley didn’t say anything, lips pressed tightly together as he continued to glare at the older man.

“Am I wrong?” Tom prodded, staring the other down. A moment of silence passed between them before Bradley hung his head.

“No,” he murmured, squeezing his eyes and fists closed. “You’re not.”

Another beat of silence passed. The waves crashed against the shoreline as gulls cried out overhead.

“You’re too much like Pete in that sense, I s’pose,” Tom grumbled with a shake of his head. Your heart clenched at the sound of your father’s name. It was true, Bradley was much like your father. So much so that sometimes you forgot the two of you weren’t related by blood.

“That stubbornness is what got him killed in the end,” he continued, turning towards the waves with a grimace.

“You don’t look like the Davy Jones I know,” Jake challenged, a hardness to his stare that equaled the disdain found in Tom’s.

“Not often someone sees what I really look like these days,” Tom sniffed, spitting out onto the sand. “Takes practiced magic to keep up appearances, and I can’t exactly go around scarin’ folks left and right when I’m on land.”

“Magic? What do you know about that?” You asked, taking a step forward. You needed to know why the magic you had encountered on your travels affected you differently from the others.

Tom turned back to look at you. “I know more than you think.”

“My whole life,” you started, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, “I’ve known that I was different. I knew things that others shouldn’t. I knew when Papa-”

You stopped, exhaling shakily as you remembered the day you clung to your father, begging him to stay on shore. You remembered the day his heart stopped beating.

“When we encountered Thetis,” you continued after a moment, and Tom stiffened at the name. “I knew something was wrong about that isle before anything had ever happened. She sensed something different about me too. The sea serpent stopped its attack when it saw me. Like it knew that we were one in the same.”

You took another step forward, eyes pleading with the man before you.

“So help me to understand, Tom,” you begged. “What am I?”

Silence stretched out along the beach as Tom studied you.

“You’re a promise,” he answered with a heavy sigh. “Long ago, when your mother and father were young and fool’s in love, they wanted a baby. But, your mother struggled to conceive. Your father called out to me to make a deal. We had been friends for a while by that point, so he knew the price he was paying. He asked for a child for his wife and a son for himself. In exchange, he offered up himself. A soul for a soul. I managed to warp the magic so that they got you, Guppy. A daughter instead of a son. That way he could live out his days with the family he wanted, and no price would need to be payed because the deal hadn’t been fulfilled.”

He closed his eyes with a shake of his head.

“Magic is a tricky thing, though,” he continued, eyes flickering towards where Bradley stood. “It will always find a way to get what its owed.”

“What does that mean?” You prodded.

Tom sucked on his teeth, measuring his words. “Means that Pete was given the son he was promised, and the magic was free to take the soul it was promised.”

You turned back to look at Bradley, sucking in a sharp breath at the look on your brother’s face. Brown eyes stared at the old man, tears streaming down his face as his jaw went slack in disbelief.

“It’s my fault?” He asked, voice so soft you almost didn’t hear him above the waves. Tom shook his head vehemently.

“No,” he growled, a hard look in his eyes. “It’s not. Pete took you in of his own free will. Declared you his son knowing damn well what that meant for him.”

Bradley pressed his lips firmly together, eyes darting towards the ground as he hung his head. Your heart broke at the sight. Your father loved Bradley, you knew that, and you knew that somewhere inside, Bradley knew that too. You took a step back towards him, hand extended to reach for him, but something inside you told you to stop. Your hand fell back to your side, uncertainty coursing through your veins as you tried to figure out what to do. What could you do?

“Are we going to stand around here all day,” groused Tom, eyes flickering between your trio, “or do you have my payment?”

You shot a glare at Tom as Jake sucked in a breath, body growing rigid before his hands reached into his coat, digging around for the necklace. The sight of it still took your breath away, the clear crystal that seemed to shine with its own light on the darkening shore. You were so mesmerized that you almost didn’t catch Jake’s eyes flicker to you, a press of his lips as he seemed to consider something.

Your own brow furrowed. What was he waiting for? Your eyes glanced towards where the sun was rapidly descending below the horizon, and you looked back at him.

“Jake?” You whispered, snapping him from his daze. He shook his head before crossing the divide towards Tom. He stared the older man down, shoulders squared as silent communication passed between the two. You shifted on your feet uneasily, eyes flickering towards Bradley. His face was unreadable as he watched the other two men, seemingly resigned to whatever was about to happen.

Jake’s shoulders rose and fell as he let out one last breath, holding his hand out towards Tom. The chain swayed in the evening breeze, the gem shining brighter than ever now that it was so close to its original master. Tom arched a brow as he studied it, his hand slowly rising to take it from Jake. Jake let his arm fall back to his side, taking a half a step back.

“There it is,” he nodded, gesturing towards the gem that now sat in the palm of Tom’s hand. “The greatest treasure in the world.”

Tom’s eyes flickered up to consider the man before him, lips pressed firmly together as he seemed to chew over his thoughts. He raised the gem up to eye level, head tilted slightly as his gaze shifted back out towards the sea. He grunted, tossing the gem up before catching it in his hand.

“Thanks,” he sniffed, raising the gem towards Jake before pocketing it in his coat. “Been looking for this beauty for a while. Thought Thetis had gotten her mitts on it, and I can’t have that. Need it for something before I even entertain the idea of giving it back.”

“Is it over?” Jake asked, eyes shining with hope. “Is the curse broken?”

Tom’s attention turned once more to the horizon, and you followed his gaze to watch the last bit of the sun disappear below the horizon.

“No.”

Your heart stopped. You whirled around to face Tom, eyes round with horror as the older man met Jake’s eyes. Jake looked about as shocked as you felt, and you watched as he opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, searching for the words that wouldn’t come to him.

“No?” He finally managed, his voice sounding so foreign and far away. He blinked at the old captain before rage twisted his features into something almost animalistic.

“What do you mean ‘no’?” He shouted, a vein in his neck bulging as he clenched his fists. “I brought you the greatest treasure! Handed it over to you without so much as a fight! Break the damn curse, old man!”

Tom stared at him, unmoved by his outburst. He shook his head.

“After all this time, you still haven’t figured it out,” he muttered. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

Jake lurched back as if he had been physically struck, eyes wide before anger seeped back in and he let out a scream that chilled you to the bone. You had never heard someone sound so broken before. His hands clutched at his hair as he hunched over, breaths coming out in shallow gasps as his eyes searched frantically for answers. His head shot up, hands shooting out to grip at Tom’s coat, shaking him.

“Undo it, you bastard,” he growled, spittle flying from his mouth as he stared menacingly into the eyes of Davy Jones himself. “Undo it!”

“Jake,” you called out, and his head whipped around to face you. For a moment, you were almost frightened of him, but then you saw the face of the young boy who seven years prior had been punished for something that wasn’t even his fault. Tears streaming down his face, his anger crumpled around him, his hands releasing Tom as a sob ripped through him. He stumbled towards you, tripping over himself to land in the sand. You moved forward at the same time, meeting him halfway to catch him and lower him gently. Your arms wrapped around him tightly, cradling him as he clung to you. The tips of your fingers ran through his hair as you tried to soothe him, your own tears an afterthought.

“I’m sorry,” he hiccuped, pressing himself closer to you. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you told him, shaking your head. “You did everything you could, Jake, and I love you for it.”

He looked up at you, green eyes shining as you brushed the hair out of his face.

“You love me?” He asked. You realized then what you had said, and you smiled.

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I do. With all my heart.”

A ghost of a smile curled on his lips as he leaned his forehead against yours. It didn’t last long before his face crumpled once more.

“I’m such an idiot,” he growled, shaking his head. “Never told the girl that I loved her, and she beat me to it. Now…”

He trailed off, but the words were plain as day. Now the two of you would be separated, torn apart and unable to find happiness with each other.

“Well, I’ll be damned.”

The two of you looked up to see Tom still watching, a grimace sat firmly on his face.

“Looks like you did find the greatest treasure after all,” he grumbled. Your eyes met Jake’s, and the two of you scrambled to your feet as Jake’s face glimmered with hope.

“I found it?” He asked, another smile curling at his lips. “Does this mean the curse is lifted?”

Tom shook his head. “No.”

You looked up at him, catching the brief flicker of regret in his eyes before they hardened once more.

“What do you mean?” Jake demanded, keeping a hand on you as he stepped forward. “You just said I found it!”

“You didn’t present it to me before the deadline,” Tom shot back, gesturing towards where the sun had disappeared only minutes before. “You were too late.”

“Why are you doing this?” You asked, voice barely above a whisper. Something shone in his eyes, but it was snuffed out just as quickly as it had appeared.

“You weren’t supposed to get wrapped up in all this,” Tom told you. Rage raced through your veins as you bared your teeth at him.

“But I did!” You shouted at him. “And now I’m losing everything because you won’t change the magic!”

“I can’t,” he snapped back.

You scoffed. “Bullshit! You’ve done it once before!”

“And look at what’s happened because of it!” He spat. “The magic didn’t just take your father, Guppy! It gave two souls, and two souls it collected in return.”

You balked. He couldn’t mean…?

“Your mother,” he nodded. “Your mother’s life was forfeit to the magic all because I thought I could bend it to my will. It’s my fault they’re both gone.”

You swallowed, processing his words. The magic took what it was owed.

“What’s the magic owed this time?” You asked, eye gazing up at the old captain. “Another soul?”

Tom paused, narrowing his eyes down at you. “It’ll take magic to nullify the curse. Magic negates magic.”

“Then take me,” you told him. All eyes snapped to where you stood.

“What?” Tom grunted.

“Take me,” you repeated. “I’m a product of the magic, right? If you take me, will the curse be lifted?”

“Guppy, no,” Jake started, but you shook your head.

“If it means that you and the others will get to live a life free from suffering,” you began, sighing as you let the decision settle in your mind, “then it’s a price I will happily pay.”

“But I won’t,” he argued, grasping your arms in his hands. “I won’t let you do this.”

“It’s not a decision you get to make this time,” you told him, eyes pleading with him.

“You don’t get to make it either.”

You both turned to look at Bradley, a determined look on his face as he crossed the distance to stand in front of Tom.

“I’m a product of the magic too, right?” He asked. “Maverick only found me because he was owed a son.”

“Bradley, no,” you started, but he held a hand up to stop you.

“He took me in and cared for me like his own flesh and blood child when he didn’t have to,” he continued, offering you a gentle smile. “This is the best way I can think of to repay him.”

“Bradley,” you pleaded, “don’t do this.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment the two of you were standing in the village again, your tiny fists balled up as you glared at the other children from the village. A group of teenage boys snickered at Bradley, taunting him with jeers and quips about his background.

“Nobody wants you, you know,” one of them sneered, a cruel smile on his lips. “You’re only around for the free labor.”

Bradley didn’t say a word, continuing to load the cart with the supplies the two of you had just purchased. You waited for him to say something, anything. He’s so quick to jab back when it’s the two of you at home, after all.

“Come on, orphan boy,” the same boy taunts, kicking at one of the small, wooden crates by Bradley’s feet, causing it to tip over. “You and I both know you’re not worth the food they waste on you.”

You saw Bradley’s jaw tick, but he continues with his task, not even looking in their direction. The boy growled in frustration, marching forward to grab Bradley by his collar, forcing him up and back against the wall. Bradley let out a grunt as his back met the wall staring the other boy down, daring him with eyes alone to make a move.

“I’m talking to you, rat,” the boy spat, eyes blazing. “Or maybe you’re too stupid to realize that. Is that it? Poor, orphan boy. You’ve not got a family to cling to, no one to protect you. You’re all alone in this world, and you always will be.”

“Stop it!” You cried, shoving at the boy, startling him enough for him to let Bradley go.

“Why should I?” He sneered down at you. “We all know it’s true.”

“It’s not true!” You hollered. “He’s got a family. He’s got me, and my mama, and my papa. He’s my brother, and we’re family!”

The boy stared down at you as you met his gaze with your fiery own. He snorted, turning to walk back towards his friends.

“Whatever,” he muttered. “Once an orphan, always an orphan.”

You glared after them, waiting until they were a ways down the street before turning your attention back to Bradley. You looked him over, checking for any bumps or scrapes, only stopping when Bradley waved you off.

“Enough,” he snapped. “Quit it.”

“Let me do this for you, Bradley,” you murmured, tears stinging your eyes as you looked at him. “Let me be your sister.”

He stared at you for a moment, the hardness in his gaze melting away as he sighed.

“Come on, Guppy,” he hummed, eyes earnest as they met yours. “Let’s get home.”

You stared at him now, the same earnest look in his eyes as he offered to take your place.

“Let me do this for you, Guppy,” he murmured, echoing your words from so long ago. “Let me be your brother one last time.”

You lurched forward, throwing yourself into his arms as you hugged him tight.

“You idiot,” you whispered, eyes squeezed tight. “You’ll always be my brother.”

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around you tightly, as if he were afraid to let go. After a moment, Tom stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on Bradley’s shoulder and clearing his throat.

“It’s time,” he said. Bradley released you reluctantly, taking a step back as he looked at Tom. A moment of silent communication passed between the two of them before Bradley nodded. The two men moved to walk away, but you grabbed Tom’s hand, stopping them once more.

“Will I see him again?” You asked, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “Or is this it?”

Tom studied you for a moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You felt Jake come up behind you, sliding his hand into yours with a gentle squeeze, but your eyes remained fixed on Tom’s.

“Maybe one day,” the old man nodded, sniffing. “You’ll see him again.”

A zip ran up your spine, and your eyes widened as something softened in Tom’s. A hint of a smile curved on your lips as you nodded, letting him go. Tom turned back to Bradley, slapping his hand on his shoulder as he guided him down the beach.

You watched in silence until the two men disappeared into the night, and even then you waited a moment longer. You didn’t know what lay ahead of you, but you knew you wouldn’t be alone. You had a family still waiting for you back aboard the ship, and they would be anxious to hear the good and sad news.

“Guppy?” Jake prodded, uncertainty in his tone as his arm came around to hold you close. You let out a sigh, closing your eyes for a brief moment before turning to look at him, the smile carving its way back onto your face.

“Come on,” you said, tugging his hand forward. “Let’s go home.”

The waves lapped against the hull of the Hangman, the sky above shining with the light from the stars that hung above. For the first time in almost a year, the air around you was still, no sense of doom looming over your head. You inhaled deeply, letting the salty, sea air fill your lungs as you closed your eyes and basked in what had transpired in the weeks since the confrontation with Tom on the beach.

You and Jake had arrived back aboard the Hangman, cheers and revelry already sounding as the crew slowly realized that their curse had been lifted. Bob had helped you aboard, Jake’s hands on your waist to steady you as you crossed over from the lifeboat.

“What happened?” The bespectacled man asked, a smile on his face as he greeted you. “You were gone for so long!”

You did your best to match his smile, but even you knew it looked more like a grimace. Bob’s face fell as he watched Jake cross over to the deck, eyes searching for the third member of your party.

“Where’s Bradley?”

Your heart clenched at the sound of his name, and you hung your head. Tears stung the back of your eyes, and you shook your head.

“I think it’s best we head inside,” Nat murmured, resting a hand on your shoulder as she guided you back towards the cabins, the others close behind. Both Jake and you did your best to recount what had happened on the beach, and a drink was poured for Bradley and his sacrifice.

Most of the crew left the employment of the Hangman soon after, and the ship operated with a skeleton crew until new crew members were found. Javy and Nat chose to stay behind in Port Royal, Javy eager to set up a trading company of his own, and Nat eager to stay with him. You bid your friends farewell, promising to visit often before the rest of your crew departed.

“Can’t sleep?”

You jumped, turning to see Jake making his way towards where you sat at the bow of the ship. You scowled at him, earning a chuckle. You watched as he climbed up, sitting down next to you with a grunt.

“I suppose I couldn’t,” you replied to him finally, looking back up at the stars.

“You’ve been through a lot,” he conceded, “I’d be surprised if you could sleep after everything.”

“I’m not scared or anything,” you told him. “No nightmares. I’m just…wondering what comes next.”

“Another adventure already?” He teased. “I figured you’d have had your fill by now.”

You hummed, but didn’t reply. Instead, you shifted closer, pressing your thigh against his while resting your head on his shoulder. Jake let out a contented hum of his own as he wrapped his arm around you.

You had had your peek at the mysteries and pasts that lay beneath the surface of the ocean below, and they had terrified you. You had weathered every storm your travels had put in your way, and you had come out the better for it.

You’d be a fool to think otherwise.

A/N: And that's it. That's the end. Wow, what a ride, huh? An end of an era. I'm certainly not emotional about this at all. Nope.

Let me know if you guys want to do something to celebrate!

Jake had been in a foul mood since the encounter, the looming deadline heavy on his mind, and on more than one occasion you had woken up to the sound of his distressed murmurs as he slept beside you. He had flat out refused to leave your side for longer than a few minutes since the attack, anxiety and distress coloring his features every time you looked at him. You knew he feared losing you, you could feel it in the way he held you these days, the end drawing nearer with each passing of the sun across the horizon. But wasn’t it you who should be afraid of losing him? You weren’t the one in danger of falling victim to a curse.

A bothersome fly pulled you from your thoughts, the whining of its movement sparking irritation in your chest. It was too damn hot for the pesky thing to be bothering you. You pulled your hand out from under your chin, swatting at the insect as it flew just out of your reach. It zoomed back towards you, wings fluttering in your face as if to taunt you. An exasperated exhale escaped your lips as you glared daggers at the offending beast.

“You look miserable.”

You turned to see Nat approaching you slowly, a wry smile on her lips as you gave her a tight-lipped smile—an attempt you were sure came out as more of a grimace than an actual smile. You wiped the sweat drenched strand of hair out of your face, offering her a shrug as you turned your attention back to the street outside. She sighed, coming up to sit at the sill beside you. The two of you sat in silence for a few minutes, watching the different groups of people as they flitted about the street. The silence grew more tense as the time dragged on, and you could tell that Natasha wanted to say something to you. Glancing at her from the corner of your eye, you saw her chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.

“How’s Mickey today?” You asked her. His screams of agony were still fresh in your mind, the scarlet on his clothes vivid in your mind as he writhed on the decks of the ship. Javy had been the one to stop the blood flow, securing the bandage around Mickey’s thigh tight enough to put a temporary fix to the problem without causing more damage. You watched as Javy and Reuben picked Mickey up on either end, carrying him towards the cabins. Mickey had already passed out, a layer of sweat coating his pallid skin. Nausea roiled in your stomach, your breathing coming out in quick spurts.

You jumped as Jake came up behind you, brushing your hand with his fingertips. Your eyes darted towards him, unease settled deep in your bones.

“Is he going to be okay?” You whispered, looking at the captain for any kind of answer. Jake sucked in a breath, and it occurred to you that you had never seen him look so at a loss.

“I don’t know,” he answered, hanging his head. His hands flexed at his side before balling them into tight fists. You looked from him back towards the sea. The serpent and the British ship were already out of sight as the Hangman limped towards shore. You were sure the men on the other ship were all dead, the serpent’s hunger sated until the next unsuspecting ship made its way into the waters.

“Those men,” you continued, brow furrowing in thought. “The one’s the serpent-”

You stopped yourself from finishing the sentence, pressing your lips into a thin line as Jake glanced at you, waiting.

“Are they dead?” You asked, looking back at him. You didn’t know how the curse worked in cases like this. Yes, they could be hurt. You knew that much. But would something like what had just occurred be enough to kill them?

Jake sucked in a sharp breath, eyes widening as he dared to look back towards the water.

“I hope so.”

You had reached the port of St. Augustine early the next morning, the cold light of dawn at your backs as each crew member heaved a weary sigh. Reuben had departed the ship as soon as the gangway was in place, running to find a doctor to see after Mickey. The rest of the crew waited around anxiously, some busying themselves with tasks around the ship as everyone waited for news on Mickey’s condition.

“He’s doing a lot better today,” Nat told you, a tired grunt leaving her lips as she settled further back against the wall. You nodded, closing your eyes in a bid to ignore the heat that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Doesn’t change the fact that you still look miserable,” she prodded, earning a less than enthused grunt from you. You sighed, leaning up and stretching out your shoulders.

“I suppose I could be doing better,” you admitted, finally turning your full attention to her. She pressed her lips together, humming in agreement.

“The deadline is only a few days away,” she said, and your heart jumped at the reminder before curling in on itself. Her words were the exact reason you had been keeping to yourself the past week, dread filling you down to your very soul as the days loomed and the dreaded deadline approached faster and faster. The anxiety kept you awake well into the night, clawing at your mind until it was all you could think about. You hadn’t known sleep in days.

“Jake’s been awfully tense,” she pressed. “Rightfully so, I guess. Javy won’t show it, but I know he’s worried too. I can see it in the way he holds his shoulders. He fidgets more than usual too when he’s nervous. I do my best to soothe his worries, and I think he forgets for a little while, but…”

Her voice drifts off to silence, an air of uncertainty surrounding her. You understood what she was feeling. The moments of sleep Jake could get were spent in fitful movements as even his unconscious mind was unable to find peace amongst the chaos. You would curl up closer to him in those moments, resting your head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat. Fingers would glide up and down his arm, and your presence seemed to calm him enough that he would still, if only for a little while. You asked him early on what he dreamed of in those moments, but his eyes would glaze over as his lips pressed firm, a faraway look in his eyes before he would shake his head and walk away, shoulders hunched as if in defeat.

Bradley didn’t fare much better when you tried talking to him. The usually playful, happy-go-lucky man you knew and loved had all but disappeared. All that was left was a shell of a man who looked and sounded like your brother, but seemed to be a complete stranger to you now in these past days. You had tried talking to him, to get a sense of where his head was at, but much like your captain, no words would leave his lips. He would only stare at you, almost looking through you before turning and walking away.

You felt like you would lose your mind, like the concern and anxiety was building up so completely within you. It reminded you of how your mother once was when your father would leave for his voyages.

She’d pace around the house, busying herself with as many tasks as she could—sometimes repeating them two or three times in a bid to keep her hands busy and mind from drifting towards thoughts of the unimaginable. On more than one occasion, you’d come home to find her staring out towards the water, a faraway look in her eye. You always wondered what she was thinking about in those moments, but now you were sure you knew.

“I don’t think it’s possible to forget the ocean’s secrets,” you replied, focusing once more on the busy street outside. “The ocean will always remind you why it’s not to be crossed.”

Natasha didn’t respond, only looked at you. You didn’t acknowledge her, letting your mind wander to thoughts of what would happen if you all were to fail. Would the curse turn them into mindless monsters? Would the change be immediate? Or would you lose those you hold most dear slowly as their unslaked desire coursed through their veins for eternity?

Your friend heaved a heavy sigh before standing. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but must have thought better of it before turning on her heels and walking away. You wished you could provide her with some kind of comfort, some certainty that things would be okay. But, you could hardly convince yourself of it, let alone another.

The afternoon passed slowly, your vigil by the window continuing on even as the pub filled with sailors and your own crew. Mickey had managed to heal enough to walk, though his usually golden skin still seemed somewhat dull after his experience. The crew drank as if there were no tomorrow, and you supposed there might not be. Locals took up space by the piano, different jigs and tunes ringing out amongst the crowd as several people joined in with lyrics. You wished you could join in the merriment, bring yourself to forget for just one moment that a mere guess wouldn’t decide your fate.

Jake, Bradley, and the rest of your friends sat hunched around one of the tables across from where you sat, none of them able to meet your gaze, and a mixture of anger and loneliness filled you. Is this what your days would look like? Would they go off and leave you behind to face a life of solitude? Would they expect you to forget them?

For another moment, you were reminded once again of your mother, only this time you remembered her as she waited for that last voyage. You could tell that something was different that time, the air more tense as she paced around your home. The song she would hum under her breath the only sound she would make for days. You thought of that song, how lonely and full of despair the words sounded. You thought of how sad your mother always sounded every time she would sing it, and before you even realized, the words were leaving your lips quietly, slowly building to be heard above the hum of conversation filling the room.

“I thought I heard the Old Man say: ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her.’ Tomorrow you will get your pay, and it's time for us to leave her.”

Several heads turned towards you as you sang, your voice clear as you felt the emotion you had worked so hard to keep tamped down swirl within you.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation died down now, and you supposed you would feel self conscious under normal circumstances, but something within you longed to break free and be heard. You had long stayed quiet in fear of upsetting those around you with your own feelings. Of course, you had had your few moments where you couldn’t keep the worries and feelings within you, your fears bursting forth and out of you over the past few months on sea.

“Oh, the wind was foul and the sea ran high. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ She shipped it green and none went by. And it's time for us to leave her.”

The conversation had stopped completely at this point, but you were only vaguely aware of your audience. The words themselves haunted you, and you knew how your mother had felt all those years ago. You wondered if she felt the exact moment she had lost your father to the sea.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

Had your father been scared in his final moments? Did the waves tower over him life in the song you now sang? Had he faced the towering waves head on in the way he faced everything in life? Or had looking death in the face been too much for him? Did he think of you? Your mother? Bradley? Or did he lament the things he hadn’t done, the things he had failed to do?

“I hate to sail on this rotten tub. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ No grog allowed and rotten grub. And it's time for us to leave her.”

Several people within the pub now joined in your singing, voices ringing out in unison. For the first time since you started, you dared a look over at the table where the others sat. Remorse colored both Jake and Bradley’s faces, the whisper of tears in their eyes as they watched you. Your heart squeezed so tight, you wondered for a moment if it would burst. You hadn’t meant for the tears to flow, and you were shocked when a cool, night breeze blew in from outside, cooling the trickle that streamed down your cheeks.

“Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You choked on the words, unable to continue as those around you continued on. Your world would change in a few days, and there was nothing you could do about it. For the first time, hope seemed too far out of reach, slipping through your grasp as the realization that you would truly be alone for the first time gripped you tightly, refusing to let go.

“We swear by rote for want of more. ‘Leave her, Johnny, leave her!’ But now we're through so we'll go on shore. And it's time for us to leave her.

Leave her, Johnny, leave her! Oh, leave her, Johnny, leave her! For the voyage is long and the winds don't blow And it's time for us to leave her.”

You let out a quiet sob as you pushed off from your seat, practically running out of the pub. The door banged against the wall with a loud crack, the echo of laughter and conversation chasing after you into the dark street. Another tune started up, a jollier shanty than the one you had led everyone in, but the joy and merriment found in the pub did not reach you in that moment, despair digging its claws into you as you stalked down the street with no mind to where you were heading.

The world swam around you, blurred by your tears. Your chest and head hurt from how hard you sobbed, your arms wrapped around your middle in an attempt keep yourself together, to keep yourself whole.

You staggered, coming to a stop next to building, leaning your weight against the sturdy structure as you fought to gain back your composure. A hand landed on your shoulder, ripping you out of your breakdown. You looked up with wet, wide eyes to meet a sea of concerned green.

Jake didn’t hesitate to try and pull you close, moving to wrap his arms around you in a soothing gesture, but you shook your head, pressing a hand to his chest to keep him away. His brow furrowed in confusion, thumb reaching up absentmindedly to wipe away your tears. You jerked away from him, shaking your head more vigorously.

“No,” you croaked, another sob wracking through you.

“Guppy,” he started, taking a step closer to you, but you shoved at him this time.

“No,” you stated more firmly, shooting him an angry, wild look that had him balking. “I don’t want your pity, or your comfort, or anything else you’re trying to bestow upon me. Not when it’ll all be for nothing.”

“What are you talking about?” He sighed out, an edge to his tone. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand as you attempted to stand tall.

“I can’t keep relying on you,” you uttered. “Not when this time in only four days, I won’t have you anymore. I’ll be alone. I’ll have no one except maybe Nat, but even that’s not a guarantee. In a few days' time, you’ll face Davy Jones, and not knowing how that will end, terrifies me.”

Jake didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there and watched you with an indiscernible expression. Finally, he set his jaw and stepped close, pulling you into his arms. A large hand cradled your face, pulling your face up towards his.

“I’m not leaving you, sweet girl,” he said, thumb stroking across your cheek. You squeezed your eyes shut as a new wave of tears threatened to spill over.

“You don’t know that,” you whispered in return.

“I do though,” he retorted. “I know everything will work out the way it’s supposed to. Even if I’m doomed to live a cursed life, a life where I will never know peace or satisfaction again, it would be a far worse fate to not have you by my side.”

You couldn’t stop the sob that shook you, choosing instead to hide your face against his chest. Jake let out a low hum, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he rocked you gently until the sobs died down once more.

“Trust me, Guppy,” he murmured, moving his hand to dig something out of his coat. “This will buy us our freedom.”

You turned your head to see him holding up the Soul of Polaris, the gem seeming to glow in the moonlight. You swallowed thickly, watching as it rotated slowly in his hold.

“What does it show you?” You asked quietly, gripping his shirt a little harder in your hands.

“What?” Jake asked, sounding perplexed.

“When I first saw it,” you explained, “the man who had it said that it guided a person to what it was they needed most.”

You turned your head to gaze up at him. “So, what is it that it shows you?”

Jake looked at you for a moment, eyes wide in surprise before he shifted his focus towards the gem. His brow furrowed once more as he pressed his lips together, pondering what he should say.

“We should head back,” he said finally, pocketing the gem once more as he guided you back down the street.

Four days later, the newly repaired Hangman rocked in the ocean waves as it headed up the coast towards North Carolina. The air aboard the ship had grown thick with mounting tension and anxiety, the air so thick you swore you could cut it with one of Bob’s kitchen knives.

The fog that surrounded the waters didn’t help matters, setting a decidedly somber mood as the crew waited for their fates to be decided. Sunset was approaching, something you could tell despite the blanket of fog that hid the sun from view. Jake hadn’t stopped pacing the length of the deck for two hours, and just watching him had you on edge. He had already snapped at three crew members for, admittedly, small infractions, and you were starting to wonder if he’d keep his sanity long enough to see Davy Jones at this point.

“Captain,” Javy called from the helm, face tight with his own anxiety, though his tells were less obvious compared to everyone else’s. Jake’s head snapped up to look at him, back rigid as he paused mid-step.

“We’re here,” Javy announced, dipping his head at his best friend. Jake sucked in a breath, teeth gnawing at the inside of his cheek. After a moment, he blew out, nodding his head as he swallowed thickly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, nodding more determinedly. “Yeah, alright. Bradshaw, Guppy. You’re with me. Everyone else, stay put until I get back.”

You were shocked that he picked you and Bradley, certain he would have chosen Javy or Natasha. You didn’t say anything as you followed him and Bradley towards one of the lifeboats. Natasha already stood by the railing, waiting for the captain to approach.

“You’re leaving me behind?” She challenged as you all approached, Javy descending the stairs at the same time. Jake raised his chin at her, a grimace pulling on his lips.

“I trust you and Javy to look after the ship while I’m away,” he explained. “But, I still need people I can trust with me—people I can depend on if this goes south. Bradshaw will act as my muscle, and we’ve seen how things react around Guppy.”

Natasha mulled over his words for a moment before nodding in agreement.

“Be careful out there,” she implored. “We’ve already had one crew member mangled by something magical.”

Jake shot her a grateful look before turning his attention to Javy who had saddled up behind her. The two shared a silent exchange before clasping their forearms and pulling each other in for a one-armed hug. The two pulled away at the same time, and Javy offered the captain a nod.

“Good luck,” he said. Jake nodded back at him before turning back towards the lifeboat. He let out a long, weary sigh before stepping forward with you and Bradley not far behind.

The fog clung to your skin, giving you the feeling of walking through water as the sand shifted beneath your feet. Jake and Bradley had hauled the boat up out of the water and further onto the beach before the three of you set out to find the spot where Davy Jones would be waiting.

The wind whipped around you, ruffling your clothes and sending a chill down your spine. You ignored it, knowing what lay ahead of you already had a frigid feeling coursing through your veins as the sky began to grow darker. Jake’s pace began to increase as the clock counted down, his hands clenching and unclenching as the three of you continued on.

“Do you know where we’re going?” Bradley asked, peering at the captain from the corner of his eye. Jake’s frown deepened as he shot the brunette a sharp look.

“Yes,” he snapped, stopping suddenly. “This is the place.”

You looked around, noting the cliffs that hung just above your head, the grass swaying in the wind as the waves crashed against the rocky shore. Bradley looked around as Jake stared down at his feet. You perched atop one of the rocks, bringing your knees up to your chin as your attention flickered between the two men.

“Did we miss him?” Bradley prodded, hands in his pockets as he walked around in a circle. “Shouldn’t he be here already?”

“I don’t know Bradshaw,” Jake snapped once more, an irritated glint in his eye. “We didn’t exactly exchange letters on what time to meet.”

A familiar hum prickled at the back of your neck, your back straightening as a knowing feeling overcame you. You twisted your neck to the right, looking down the beach towards the opposite way you came. In the growing shadows and through the fog, a tall figure began to emerge, their coat billowing behind them.

“Look!” You exclaimed, scrambling to your feet as you pointed a finger at the figure. Jake and Bradley turned to where you gestured, postures alert and on guard as they spotted the figure too. The humming grew in intensity as the figure drew closer, but there was no sense of danger that accompanied it like there had been with Thetis, the sirens, and the serpent. No, in place of danger, there was only the sense of familiarity, and confusion tickled at the back of your mind.

The fog and shadows obscured the figure as it stopped by some rocks a few yards away. You squinted, trying to make out any discernable features, but you couldn’t help but feel you knew the person who stood in front of you. A soft scratch sounded as the figure struck a match, the small flame illuminating his face as he lit the pipe that hung at his lips. Shock coursed through you as you recognized the blue eyes and weathered face that stared back at your group, the embers of tobacco letting out a puff of smoke as he exhaled.

You blinked, not quite believing what you were seeing, and you knew Bradley’s expression must have mirrored your own in that moment.

“Tom?”

A/N: Wooooooooow! I can't believe it's finally here, y'all! What do we think? How are we feeling? What on earth is going to happen next???

It feels so good to finally get this one off my chest, I've been sitting on it for sooooooo long! Like...the amount of times I almost slipped up and told y'all everything is embarrassing, quite frankly.

While you’re extremely thankful to Josie for the Valentine’s Day surprise, it’s made the rest of your week unbearable, and you could barely do anything but watch the clock, waiting for Friday. Things have gotten even harder now that you know that Javy’s back in town. He’s just on the other side of town and you can barely hold yourself back. You still have a day of work and Javy’s probably exhausted from the road trip. You tell yourself that he’s at home, asleep, and you shouldn’t bother him, that you shouldn’t be so desperate, and yet you’re aching to text him and ask if he wants to grab dinner because you’re not sure you can wait until your plans tomorrow to see him.

You’ve resorted to turning your phone off and banishing it to the bottom of your deepest desk drawer and throwing yourself into your teaching to try and keep your mind off him. It was working, for the most part at least, but now that your students have been dropped off in the cafeteria for lunch and you’re faced with your empty classroom, your thoughts run wild in the space. Josie’s not even here to keep you company. She took the kids off-campus for lunch to meet up with Reuben. You have no idea how Josie’s done this for ten years, and you’re even more impressed with how adaptable the Fitch kids are. You’ve always known it must be hard, not having their dad around so much, but now that you’re right there alongside them in the trenches, you feel their pain acutely.

You drum your fingers on your desk as you debate releasing your phone from its prison if only just to distract yourself from the silence in the room contrasting with the loudness of your mind. Your fingers itch for the distraction, and you’re so in your own head that you almost miss the knock on your door. Head whipping up from where you were scrutinizing the wood grain of your desk, your heart leaps into your throat as you meet the pair of dark brown eyes peering through the window into your classroom. Your body moves before your brain, tripping over your own feet and your chair as you scramble towards the door as it swings open. Your legs give up their struggle with the chair and you go tumbling into Javy’s arms as he runs over to catch you and you let out a screech of surprise.

“Hi,” you breathe out on an exhale as you stare up at him where you’re crumpled awkwardly as he holds you up.

“Hi,” he says fondly as he smiles down at you and you bask in the warmth of his expression as he helps you find your footing.

“What are you doing here?” You can’t keep the wonder out of your voice as you’re tempted to reach out and touch his face to make sure he’s really here. He chuckles as he leans down and bumps your foreheads together.

“I missed you,” he says like it’s nothing but it sends your heart racing and you swear he can feel it pounding through your skin.

“I missed you too,” you feel your cheeks heat at the admission, at speaking the words that have been echoing in your head all week and you’re heart stops as his face brightens into a boyish smile at your words. You can’t stop yourself from kissing the smile off his face and he leans into your touch, reciprocating in kind. Kissing Javy feels like making up for lost time, it fills you up in a way that feels like bottling up sunshine, reenergizing you like you run on the solar energy that comes from simply being in his presence.

When you break apart, you can’t tear yourself far, hovering close to him and he seems to feel the same way until he pauses like something’s just occurred to him and he turns behind him and you follow him with your eyes as he scoops up a brown paper bag that’s fallen onto the floor and comes back over to you. “I brought lunch,” he explains and you’re glowing all over again as he leads you over to your desk and hands you the sandwiches he got from a place near his apartment. The food tastes spectacular but you’re pretty sure that has more to do with the company than the food itself.

Javy asks about your week and you ask him about his. You’ve had at least some idea of what he's been up to since you spent Thursday evening at the Fitch’s to watch the Colorado game together. He leans into you conspiratorially when you ask how Denver was and you try to ignore the way the proximity makes your heart skip. “I think Bradley almost proposed,” he whispers and your eyes widen in surprise. You don’t know Bradley as well as you know Zam, now that you’ve been welcomed into a group chat with the other girls since your art show, but you know from Zam that she and Bradley are particularly close.

“Didn’t they just get together a few months ago?!” You squawk indignantly and Javy laughs as he nods.

“They even broke up for a bit in December, but that’s Bradley.” Javy shrugs.

“Wait how do you know? Did he tell you?” You ask and Javy barks out a laugh.

“Bradley’s a locked vault, Meep, and only Zam has that key. But according to her, next time they go out for pizza in Denver, the team has to come because a certain someone has no self-control.” He shrugs nonchalantly but you can see conspiratorial mirth dancing in his eyes and you can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of you. The two of you sink into a comfortable silence as you eat, content just to be in each other’s presence after the time apart before Javy breaks it.

“By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask,” you arch an eyebrow silently as you chew, “do you think you’d be able to come to our away game in Dallas next month? It’s on a Saturday so you’d be back in time for school on Monday, and I’d take care of the tickets, but it could be fun.”

“I’d have to look at the exact date, but I should be free, yeah.” You say, smiling shyly at the fact that he’s inviting you to an away game. Somehow it feels different than going to a home game. “Of course, I’d love to come,” your heart thuds at the ease that those four letters fall off your tongue. The relief on his face is apparent and you’re confused by how it contrasts the excitement dancing in his eyes. Your head cocks in suspicion but where you’d normally bury the feeling and wallow as your anxiety sows the seeds of distrust, you feel the urge to confront Javy. Maybe it’s because he’s always been painfully honest with you. No matter how well he seems to think he is at hiding his secrets and emotions, he wears his heart on his sleeve. Maybe you can learn to do the same. “There’s more, what aren’t you telling me?” His eyes widen in surprise and you feel your heart thunder in your ears at his confirmation that he’s hiding something. It makes your stomach turn sour even as your brain screams for you to hear him out before you pull away, retreating into the hermit-crab shell in your mind.

“I…” he scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not that I’m hiding it, I just…” he shakes his head. “I didn’t want to overwhelm you, especially when you’re still at work, and I didn’t want you thinking that I was making assumptions or moving things too fast.” He’s still walking around the truth, treading carefully as he tries to slow you down and grab your metaphorical hand before you can run for the hills.

“And?” You hate how small your voice sounds. You’re supposed to be getting better. Javy’s brought you out of your shelf over the past month along with all your new friends, but it seems old habits die hard. You see something you can’t read pass through his eyes at the tone of your voice.

“My mom wants to meet you,” he says with a resigned sigh, and your brow furrows in confusion. You’d expected a lot of things, but not this. “Well my sisters too, but my mom specifically. I told her about you, about us,” you watch his hand twitch like he’s holding back from reaching for yours. “And she said she wants to meet you. The whole family usually comes up to Dallas for our away games there and she asked me to bring you.” He pauses before adding, “If you want to obviously, she didn’t ask me to kidnap you or anything.” The last addition makes a small laugh bubble up in your throat and you let it slip out to watch Javy’s shoulders relax at the sound.

You nod after a pause. “Sure, Javy, I’d love to meet your family,” your heart squeezes gently as you watch the nerves holding Javy stiff release him from their grip and you wonder if that’s what you always look like to him. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmur, a mirror of what you tell your students when you successfully get them to open up. He nods, but you can tell something’s still bothering him so you reach over and take his hand in yours, rubbing reassuring circles on the back of his hand.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you, I mean it.” You give him a gentle smile but he’s not looking at you, instead, his eyes are focused on your joined hands. You reach your other hand to guide his chin up to look at you, trying not to get distracted by the feel of his smooth, warm skin under your fingertips.

“It’s okay, Javy. I mean it. I didn’t like you trying to keep it from me, but I understand why you did, and you apologized and I accept that apology. You’re okay. We’re okay.” You reassure him and you watch his deep brown eyes search yours before the uneasiness slowly creeps out of them. His fingers close around yours in his lap and he turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers still on his chin.

“Thank you,” His voice is soft like he’s still a little unsure, but then he shakes his head like he’s fighting to keep words inside his mouth. “Are we still on for tomorrow, Meep?” You can’t stop the way your face blossoms into a smile at the mention of tomorrow and you nod enthusiastically.

“Are you going to tell me what you have planned?” You ask, trying to hide how desperate you’re becoming. Javy’s promised that he has top-secret plans for your belated Valentine’s Day plans but he’s been annoyingly vague about them since he asked you to save the day for him.

“And ruin the surprise?” He raises a cocky eyebrow that makes you scowl. He brushes another kiss to your fingers. “Not a chance.” You pout at him and he looks like he’s fighting a grin. “So impatient,” he mocks and you roll your eyes, removing your hand from his chin with a scoff that lacks any real strength. Your attention is caught by the beginnings of movement outside the classroom and your heart aches subtly at the realization that he’ll have to leave in a moment and you’ll have to return to your work like he didn’t just blow through the door and lift your mood exponentially. Once again you feel the urge to ask him if he has dinner plans but your anxiety holds you back from possibly overstepping. He’s already taken time out of his precious day off to come and bring you lunch, you don’t want it to feel like you’re smothering him. Javy’s eyes dart to the window in your door, clocking the motion outside as well and you’re convinced that you see his shoulders slump slightly, but it’s likely your own delusion. “Guess I should get out of your hair,” he says, before coming back to look at you. Normally, you’d feel uncomfortable, being the subject of a person’s undivided attention but you don’t with Javy. His eyes rove over you like he’s recommitting your features to memory and you feel your cheeks heat as you take advantage of his distractedness to do the same. You can see the exhaustion from the past week lingering under his eyes and your heart aches slightly at the idea of how exhausted he must be as guilt twists your stomach. He should be home, asleep, or at the very least getting some rest.

“Get some rest, Javy,” you implore softly and he smiles gently in response.

“Don’t you worry about me, Meep, you just have a good day.” Your brows pinch together indignantly.

“I mean it, Javy.” Your voice is sharper, your teacher voice slipping through.

Javy chuckles. “Yes, Ms. Roadie,” he sing-songs, imitating your students and you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” Your brow relaxes and you nod.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him before adding, “That is as long as you tell me where we’re going.” You give him a pointed look.

He gives you a mysterious smile, “All good things to those who wait, Meep.” You’re about to protest again but the sounds outside your classroom rise in volume and you know your time together is almost up. Anxiety at the idea of Javy leaving knaws at your stomach and before you can stop yourself, you’ve reached out, arms wrapping around Javy in a tight hug. His body starts with surprise under you but he reciprocates before you can draw away and second-guess your decision. “I’m tired of waiting,” you know you sound petulant as you grumble the words into his chest, but his chuckle in your ear reassures you that he knows your words go deeper than your plans tomorrow and he feels the same.

“I’m tired of waiting, too, Meep.” He reassures you and you heave out a sigh, relishing the feeling of being in his arms for a moment longer.

***

Your knee bounces particularly hard and slams into the steering wheel as you drum your fingers on it, waiting for the light to turn green. You’ve spent the last week brainstorming ideas of what Javy’s grand plans for today would entail but instead, he surprised you by texting you last night to meet him at the arena, which seems odd since he has the day off, but you didn’t question it, knowing he probably has something in mind. He told you to dress warm but the anxiety gnawing at your gut has your brain convinced that the sleeves of your sweater are itchy. You scratch your arm for what seems like the hundredth time as you gaze at Hard Deck Arena looming ahead of you as the light finally turns green.

As expected, the private parking garage is almost empty but you spot Javy’s Land Rover and you park next to it. A quick peer inside the neighboring car confirms that Javy’s not there. You’ve been to the arena a few times now but you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re intruding as you step out of the car, wiping your sweaty palms off on your jeans before you make your way to the door and swiping the guest pass Zam hooked you up with a few weeks back.

The hallways are eerily quiet with the day off and the normally raucous atmosphere of the players and staff being absent. You pause, halfway down a dimly lit hallway, fishing your phone out of your pocket before you call Javy. You don’t hear a phone ring in your vicinity and you can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding. Did he stand you up? Even worse, are the lights about to come on and reveal a hidden camera? Is this all a prank? A familiar sense of unease twists your stomach and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears that you miss the click of the line picking up.

“Meep, are you here?” Javy’s voice in your ear makes you jump and you spin around like you’re expecting him to appear behind you.

“Javy?” You question the shadows around you. He chuckles in your ear.

“Hold on, Meep, I’m coming to get you. Hang tight.” His voice stops but the line doesn’t cut, a quiet reminder that you’re not alone except for the sounds of his muffled footsteps on the other side of the line as you do your best to ignore the dimly lit hallway around you as you await his arrival.

Contrary to his explicit instructions to you, Javy’s wearing a fitted t-shirt, arms bare and glowing under the dim LEDs as he jogs down the hallway towards you, grinning boyishly. He takes you by surprise when he doesn’t stop, barreling into you and sweeping you into his arms as you let out a squeal of surprise, arms instinctively reaching for his neck to hold on tight as your feet leave the ground. “Hi,” his voice is breathless with giddiness as he greets you, dark eyes boring into your own, mouth spread in a wide grin as he holds your body against his, the heat radiating off him a comfortable aura that you’re shamelessly drawn to.

“Hi,” you breathe back as the air comes back into your lungs and you gaze at him, lips slightly parted in surprise. Your mind goes back to yesterday and you nervously let the words on your tongue escape, heart fluttering at the vulnerable honestly. “I missed you.” His face is like the sun as he beams at you, surely a mirror of yours yesterday when he let the same admission slip. He rubs his nose against yours affectionately, the warmth rolling off his skin in waves meeting the shy heat of yours.

“I missed you too, Meep.” Your body relaxes instantly, reassured the moment he reciprocates. He puts you down then, but even once your feet are safe on the ground again, he keeps you caged in his arms, pressed tightly against him. He doesn’t seem keen on inviting space between your bodies and you’re hard-pressed to argue.

“So,” your curiosity bubbles to the surface from where it’s been percolating all week. “What are we doing here?” You ask, and you watch boyish mirth dance in Javy’s eyes as his lips quirk into a ghost of a smirk.

“So impatient,” he teases, leaning down to peck your cheek as your skin tightens beneath his lips as you scowl at him, no anger behind the twist of your lips. He chuckles as he pecks your pouted lips, effectively sending your brain into a tizzy. It’s still getting used to all this casual attention after years spent lacking it. “Alright then, my little roadrunner, let’s go,” your body instantly bemoans the loss of contact he pulls away but he makes up for it, sliding his hand unto yours and lacing your fingers together like he too can’t bear to not be touching.

He leads you down the dimly lit hallway with a familiarity you envy. Your feet almost stumble as you reach a slight incline and then you catch sight of light at the top. When you emerge into the arena, the contrast of the blindingly bright LEDs compared to the dimness your eyes have adjusted to makes you blink rapidly, struggling to adjust quickly to get your bearings. The cooler air confirms your suspicion until your eyes adjust to the blinding sight of the lights bouncing off the white of the ice rink. Javy waits patiently next to you as your eyes adjust and your frown of discomfort shifts into one of confusion. He clocks the difference and leads you through a clear door into the bench area. You’ve seen it through the glass before but you’ve never been in here. It seems laughably small considering that it’s meant to house several dozen men in bulky gear. You make your way to the boards that you’ve watched the boys swing over effortlessly, eyes widening as you see where it falls in comparison to your body, realizing exactly how much upper body strength it must take. You’re not sure you could do it, let alone piled under the extra pounds of hockey gear. You shake your head in disbelief before turning to where Javy’s watching you, seated on the bench.

“This is amazing,” he grins at your words.

“Just wait until we get out there, Meep.” He says, grin widening as your stomach drops and the puzzle pieces start falling into place.

“Out. There?” You squeak even as your brain has already descended into chaos as you glance from Javy’s smiling face to the white ice stretching out ahead of you. Anxiety rises up and claws up your throat as you realize exactly what Javy has planned. “Oh,” the word is a soft exhale and it must betray your fear because Javy reaches for your hands, pulling you closer and turning you to face him. “I can’t skate.” The words flood past your lips, splattering into the floor between you, laced with nerves and fear and you watch Javy’s eyes soften. He rubs circles into the flesh of your hands where they’ve started to tremble in his hold.

“I know, Meep,” he says and it doesn’t reassure you. “Nat told me, so I figured maybe I could teach you.” Your eyes widen in surprise as you slowly put things together. You look away from his gentle gaze back to the rink, the bright expanse daunting as it glows back at you. You swallow, fear sticking in your throat. Javy lets go of one of your hands, reaching to turn your chin back towards him, cupping your cheek, and sweeping his thumb across your trembling skin. “It’s okay,” he soothes gently. “I won’t let you fall.” The words are like hot water, thawing the ice of the nerves encasing your heart. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You believe him.

His smile turns rueful as he squeezes the hand still holding yours. “It’s okay if you don’t want to, though.” Your heart squeezes painfully. “We can get out of here, forget it ever happened. We’ll go get some dinner and then we can eat at my place.” He keeps up the gentle strokes of fingers against your skin. Your nerves are still present, deep in your stomach, licking painfully at your gut but your heart glows at Javy’s words. “Don't worry about it, either. This day is for you. If you’re not comfortable, it’s not worth it.” The aching of your heart is overwhelming, drowning out the twisting of your stomach and you shake your head.

“No, I want to.” Your voice doesn’t sound convincing so you clear your throat, squeezing his hand in yours. “I’ll be okay. I want to try at least.” He smiles, soft, as he scans your face, looking for any signs that your words aren’t genuine. When he’s convinced you aren’t doing this for him, he tugs your hand, gently, standing and switching places, carefully guiding you to sit on the bench as he stands in front of you.

“Sit tight,” he says and you nod as he steps over the bench to fuss with something behind you. While you wait, you nervously bring your gaze back to the ice rink. It looks cold and unforgiving. A thought pops into your mind as you wait for Javy.

“Javy, I don’t have skates,” the words die on your lips as he steps back in front of you, and your eyes fall on the box he’s holding in his hands. It’s clumsily wrapped in pink patterned paper with a bow awkwardly perched on top and he hands you it, an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Sorry, it’s not the neatest job. I probably should have just gone with a bag, but I’d already committed to the paper, and I figured since it was just a box it couldn’t be that hard.” Your eyes soften as he blubbers in front of you and you take his hand in yours, squeezing gently.

“I love it.” You reassure him and you watch the nerves seep out of his body, shoulders slumping in relief. You let go of his hand so you can unwrap the box on your lap, being careful not to tear the paper too much. You know you’re going to want to keep it. Maybe you’ll try your hand at a mixed-media piece and you can find a way to incorporate it. Adding some of his work into yours. The box inside is nondescript and you open it, breath catching in surprise as you unfold the tissue paper inside to reveal its contents.

The blades of the skates sparkle under the bright lights and you reach a curious finger out to run along the surface. The skates are simple but beautiful. As you reach to pull one out to examine it better, the paper falls away and your heart clenches as a simple detail catches your eye. Along the ankle portion of the skate is a custom patch depicting the Looney Tunes Roadrunner. A surprised laugh bubbles up your throat as you run a revenant finger along the patch. When you lift the skate, you see a matching patch of Wile E. Coyote on the other skate. Your lips quirk into a smile as you look up at Javy where he’s watching you.

“They’re perfect,” you assure him and his smile widens. “I love them, thank you Javy,” you reach for him awkwardly, trying not to drop the box on your lap and he closes the gap so you can give him a hug. When he pulls away, he drops to one knee in front of you, easing the skate box off your lap and placing it on the floor by your feet he holds out a hand, and you flush as you offer him your leg, feeling silly as you watch him carefully remove your shoe and guides the skate onto your socked foot, lacing up the skate, glancing up to make sure he hasn’t pulled it too tight.

When he finishes, he takes a seat next to you, lacing his skates up with a practiced speed. Then he stands, and you gawk, looking down to see how he’s standing balanced on the blades, your nerves quickly resurfacing at the idea of having to do the same. He clocks your expression and gives you a gentle smile as he steps over to you, holding out his hands. “I told you, Meep. I won’t let you fall.” You swallow, hard, before placing your trembling fingers in his. Javy’s brow furrows and he bends down, rummaging through the box at your feet, before he produces a pair of gloves and guides them into your shaking hands. Then he laces your fingers together again. “Ready?” You nod and he squeezes your linked hands and pulls, gently helping you ease off the bench. You’re surprised when balancing isn’t as hard as you expected.

Javy carefully leads you across the rubber flooring to the small door in the boards, slipping through and holding it open with his hip and you stare at the ice. “Whenever you’re ready, take your time,” Javy says comfortingly, waiting patiently for you. You swallow before raising a trembling leg and placing your skate on the ice. You feel the blade slide through the ice and gasp. Javy’s hand tightens on yours and you look up from the ice to meet his eyes. “I’ve got you,” he reassures you and you squeeze his other hand and carefully step your other foot onto the ice. Your footing is much less sure now, and your legs tremble like a baby deer as your wide eyes go from the ice to Javy’s. “There you go, look at you, Meep. You’re doing it.” His pride is a little premature, you know that, but your chest still swells under his praise. “You ready to move?” You swallow, throat feeling dry, but you manage to nod anyway. He carefully pushes off, still holding tightly to your hand and he skates backward, effortlessly, slowly pulling you after him.

“Javy!” The surprise of how easily he moves and the strange feeling of gliding behind him forces the cry out of your mouth. Your weight feels unbalanced and your feet not having a proper grip on the ground is disorienting.

Javy slows to a stop, pulling you in so you’re close to him. Your hands grip his forearms tightly. “Easy, Meep, I’ve got you. Okay so to balance you’re going to want to bring your center of gravity lower, kind of reach for your knees. I’m going to let you go and-”

“NO!” You shout, fear gripping your heart at the idea of having to let go of Javy.

“Hey, hey,” Javy placates gently as your wild eyes find his. He’s calm and you force yourself to focus on him, to even your breathing. “Even if I let go, I’m right here, okay? I won’t let you fall. The moment you need me, I’ll be right here.” You swallow, hard. You’re scared which you know is ridiculous. The worst thing that can happen to you is that you fall and Javy’s reassured you that he’ll catch you if you do. You need to trust him. You do trust him. Despite the racing of your heart, you nod weakly.

“Okay,” you hate how small your voice sounds. “Okay, I can try.” Javy beams down at you.

“That’s my girl,” he praises and you feel your entire body go hot. His words echo in your ears with your heartbeat and you feel stronger. “Okay, I’m going to let go, okay? Just reach for your knees, you won’t fall.” Your heart thunders as Javy’s fingers slip from yours and you feel yourself start to wobble. “Reach for your knees,” Javy’s voice breaks through your panic and you feel your center of gravity shift as you alter your stance, the wobbling evening out. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“I did it!” You cry, grinning giddily up at Javy and he grins back.

“You did it!” He reassures you and then skates back a few feet, holding his hand out. “Now try to move. See if you can come over to me. Just remember, it’s not like walking. Think about how you used to skid around in your socks as a kid.” You decide against pointing out that you still do that now. “You’re going to move with your knees and push.” He skates over to you slowly and your brows furrow in concentration as you watch his motions, committing them to memory so you can try and replicate them. “Here,” he skates over to stand beside you, “just copy me, and if you start to slip, I’ll grab you.” You watch his leg and follow with your own. Your attention is glued to his legs and replicating his movements. “There you go, you’re doing it!” Javy’s cheers snap your attention from his legs and you realize how far across the rink you’ve moved. Your eyes widen and you forget to move your feet. Unfortunately, unlike on the floor, when you stop moving your feet, you don’t stop moving and you continue to glide forward. You squawk in surprise as you realize you have no idea how to stop.

“Javy! Javy, I don’t know how to stop!” You shout and Javy’s quick to skate in front of you.

“Okay, easy now,” Javy says as your panic rises. “You’re going to bring the tips of your skates in, like the point of an arrow, and keep your weight in the center.” You fight the doubts warring in your mind and try to trust Javy’s instructions, moving your feet slowly, and to your surprise, you slow to a stop right in front of Javy. You gape at your skates attached to feet that don’t feel like yours before looking at Javy who’s wearing a proud grin. “Attagirl! You did it!” He cheers, wrapping you in his arms and you sink into his before realizing that’s probably a bad idea as your combined weights are unbalanced. Javy shifts his weight almost instinctively, keeping the two of you from bowling over. “What did I say, I won’t let you fall, pretty girl.” You feel your cheeks heat as you relish being in his arms. “You did so well, Meep, I’m proud of you.” His pride warms you from head to toe and makes you feel confident. “You all skated out, or do you want to try some more?” He’s giving you an out and your new-found confidence has you shaking your head.

“I think I want to try some more,” you see pride and joy sparkle in his eyes and he helps you rearrange your weight so you can stand on your own again.

“Well then, let’s see what you’ve got, Roadrunner,” he grins at you. “You think this Coyote can catch you?” You know he could without breaking a sweat but you play along.

“We’ll just have to see,” you tease as you carefully start moving across the ice again and Javy follows right behind, sticking close.

***

An hour later, you’re exhausted and your legs are trembling from that rather than nerves as you and Javy sit side by side on the bench, unlacing your skates and trading them for your shoes. Strands of your hair stick to your forehead that’s somehow managed to get a little sweaty despite the chilly air.

“So, did you have fun?” Javy asks as he scoops up his skates, offering you his free hand to help you back to your feet. You nod, a giddy grin still on your face. You weren’t anywhere close to his level of skill but by the end, you were a lot more confident moving across the ice. And Javy had kept his promise, you hadn’t fallen once.

“Thanks for this, Javy, really. I loved it.” He pulls you into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“It was perfect,” he agrees before he pulls away so he can see your face as he asks, “What do you say to doing this again next weekend, maybe with some more company?” You cock your head, confused before he explains. “Next weekend is Family Day, where all the guys bring their girls and their families to the rink. We all just hang out and skate. There’s a potluck after and it’s just a team bonding event. I’ve been meaning to ask you to come but I knew you didn’t know how to skate and I didn’t want you to have to feel pressured to learn in front of a bunch of strangers. So I planned this, and I’d say you’re more than good enough to come if that’s something you want to do.”

Your heart pounds even as it aches at Javy’s concern for your comfort. You nod without a second thought. “I’d love to come, Javy.” You squeeze his hand in yours. “And thanks for looking out for me, I really appreciate it.” He smiles, the relief on his face is like watching the sun come out from behind the clouds and you smile back. “I can’t wait.” You assure him, snuggling against his side and he wraps you in his arms.

“Me neither,” he says and you can’t help but feel that despite the nerves and jitters, today has been perfect. You’re glad you didn’t let your nerves and anxiety ruin this perfect day, and you’re even more thankful to Javy for making you feel safe enough to have this much fun. You wouldn’t have been able to do it without him.

You find your eyes searching for the calendar on the classroom wall and a frown creeps up onto your lips. The Dogfighters are on a road trip right now and you’ve found yourself irritated at the way it feels like life has seemingly returned to the way it was before you met your new friends. You’ve spent the last week going home straight after work, occasionally to the Fitch house where you help Josie with the kids while she attempts to get some work done. She’s stretched thinner than usual with Reuben out of town and you can’t help the way you wonder to yourself if this is your future. And while it makes you nervous, there’s a part of your stomach that flutters giddily.

You and Javy have been official for a little over a week, but the road trip has taken up most of that time. You’re anxious to see Javy again, and you’re seriously starting to doubt the old proverb that promises that absence makes the heart grow fonder. You’ve finally allowed yourself to be upfront about your feelings for him, given that he’s actually your real boyfriend now. He’s your real boyfriend now. You can’t help the way you bounce on the balls of your feet in excitement as a fresh wave of giddy butterflies flutters through your stomach. Another glance at the calendar reminds you that despite this being your first Valentine’s Day with Javy, he’s going to have to meet it, playing a game in Seattle tomorrow night. The two of you have plans for the weekend, however, a belated celebration once he’s back and rested. After the game in Seattle, they have one more game in Denver on Thursday before they get back to San Diego on Friday.

“You’re in a good mood this morning.” A voice from behind you teases and you pause your drawing on the board to look over your shoulder to where Josie’s leaning against the doorframe.

“Josie! Good morning!” You greet her as you cap the marker and wipe your hands off on your overalls as you go over to give her a hug that she returns before handing you a to-go cup that smells delicious.

“We stopped for a little treat this morning since the kids are missing Daddy extra.” She gives you a tired but rueful smile. You know if you miss Javy after barely dating him for a week, Josie must be missing Reuben something fierce after being married for a decade.

“They’ll be home on Friday,” you remind her, trying to sound cheerful but your melancholy must show through your facade because Josie gives you a gentle smile.

“Hey, what are you doing tomorrow night?” She asks, and you see a scheming twinkle in her eyes.

“Tomorrow? Nothing really, I was going to watch the match while I grade papers, and then Javy said he’d call afterward and we could get takeout for Valentine’s Dinner.” You ignore the way your stomach flips at the words Valentine’s Dinner. “Why? Did you need help with the kids tomorrow night?”

“Yeah actually,” Josie says casually, sliding a hand into her pocket. “I thought maybe we could watch the game together?”

“Of course! That would be so much fun, what time should I come over?” You’re secretly excited not to have to spend the night alone with your TV and your thoughts when you’re sure the jitters will be too distracting to get any work done anyway.

“Well we’re going to have to leave right after school if we’re going to make the flight,” Josie says and you blink, confused until you look down and see the tickets that Josie’s holding out to you.

“W-what?” You stammer as your brain struggles to catch up with your eyes.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Roadie,” she says and you look from the tickets back up her and then back down to the tickets before you almost spill the coffee in your hand as you throw your arms around Josie. Josie laughs, fishing the coffee from your hand and depositing it safely on a nearby bookshelf.

“Josie, I can’t, it’s too much,” you blubber uselessly as you sob into her shoulder, all composure lost at your best friend’s kindness.

She just shakes her head as she pats your back comfortingly. “The kids miss their dad, I miss my husband, and you can’t miss your first Valentine’s Day with Javy. He’s still not my favorite person in the world but he makes you happy so I can’t hate him.” You choke out a chuckle at Josie’s words.

“Thank you, Josie.” You whisper and she just shakes her head again.

“Don’t thank me, just enjoy the day.” She pauses before she adds. “I’d originally wanted to surprise you with it tomorrow but I figured I should give you a chance to pack.” She laughs and you join in.

“I think my brain might have exploded,” you point out and she laughs harder.

“I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, so we have just one car and we can go straight from work to the airport.” You nod, still breathless over the fact that you’ll get to see Javy tomorrow.

“Wait, do the boys know?” You ask, your brain firing at a mile-a-minute.

Josie shakes her head, a conspiratory grin spreading across her face. “I thought we could surprise them. Zam knows she’s the one that arranged the game tickets.”

“We’re going to the game?!” You grasp the papers Josie’s still holding and you shuffle through them to see the game tickets under the plane tickets. “Josie!” You shriek and she laughs, head tipping back.

“Don’t yell at me, those are complimentary! WAG privileges,” she reminds you and you shake your head in disbelief. Not only do you get to see Javy tomorrow, but you get to go to the game and surprise him. “Alright, I need to get going before my kids start showing up but I’ll see you at lunch,” you wave to Josie before returning to your prep for the day.

Suddenly you feel ridiculous for all the stressing you’ve done over the past week, trying to decide what to get your boyfriend for Valentine’s Day. You know Javy has no qualms about spending ridiculous sums of money on you, but you’re not exactly in a position to do the same. All the same, you’re feeling pretty proud of your Valentine’s Day gift for Javy. You’re also extremely happy that you finished in time for Valentine’s Day despite thinking you wouldn’t be able to give it to him until Saturday. You’re nervous but excited to see his reaction to it. You’re even more excited to see his reaction to your and Josie’s surprise.

***

You’re secretly glad that all you have planned for today is a Valentine’s Day party. You’re not sure you have the focus required to teach your students today since you’ve been bouncing off the walls with nervous excitement since you got out of bed this morning, not that you’d slept much at all. You’re secretly thankful for the parents who volunteered to help with the party because your mind is on this evening, your eyes flitting to the clock constantly, counting down the seconds until you’re done with work.

You know you should calm down and conserve your energy. The next twenty-four hours are going to be a whirlwind. After school ends, you have to rush to the airport to make your direct flight to Seattle, and from there you need to rush to the arena to make it in time for the game. After that, you’ll spend the night in Seattle before catching a red-eye from Seattle back to San Diego with barely enough time to make it back in time to teach Wednesday morning. Josie’s planning to drop off the kids with Penny for the day, since they’ll likely be too exhausted to handle a full day of school after all that travel. You secretly wish you could afford to take tomorrow off, but with so little notice, you know better than to try.

Your eyes move from the clock to the comically large vase currently taking up most of your desk. The flowers had been delivered during first period and you can’t help the giddy smile that stretches your face as you look at the bright orange blossoms. Your students had descended into giggles when you told them it was from Javy and you couldn't help but join in.

***

Your students finally make their way to lunch and you slump across your desk, letting the scent of the tiger lilies above you permeate your nose, and as sweet as they smell, you find yourself missing a different scent, a smokier, spicier one. You let out an exhausted groan as Josie lets herself in, coming to sit across from you.

“He sent you flowers,” she remarks, and you think she sounds a little impressed. You turn your head to squish your cheek against the cool wooden surface as you look at her and nod.

“Aren’t they perfect?” You say, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you follow her gaze to the orange blossoms.

“Tiger lilies? Not roses?” She asks, reaching a hand out to finger the blossoms, curiously.

“They’re my favorite.” You explain. “I don’t know how he knew,” you muse as a thought occurs to you. “Did you tell him?” Josie holds up her hands in surrender.

“It wasn’t me. I didn’t even know you liked tiger lilies.” Your brow furrows in thought.

“Well, technically, I love all lilies,”

“But those are your favorites now since they’re the ones he bought you,” Josie interrupts your thought and you look at her, surprised as you nod, cheeks heating.

“I used to like mums, back in college, they were my favorite and I was super vocal about it. Then I met Reuben and on our first date he bought me dahlias because he’d bought them thinking they were just big mums, and in that moment I realized I never wanted anything but dahlias. They reminded me of him, and how eager he was to make me happy, and now they’re my favorites.” The two of you sit in content silence for a long moment before she speaks up again. “Are you excited for tonight?” Your face brightens instantly and you nod enthusiastically.

“I still can’t believe it’s real, thank you so much again, Josie.” She shakes her head.

“Thank you for coming with me,” she chuckles, “but after you experience flying with two kids, I don’t think you’ll take me up on the offer again.” She teases and you roll your eyes.

“I love your kids,” you remind her and she chuckles.

“You do now, just wait.”

***

You can’t help the nerves that are pacing in your stomach as you worry the edge of the jersey you’re wearing. You try to channel the restless energy into helping Josie wrangle the kids. They are restless too, excited to see their dad, and cranky from their naps on the plane. You can’t find it in you to be irritated with them when you see your own raw emotions on display in them. You glance over your shoulder, anxious for warmups to begin so you can see Javy and the tension in your heart can finally snap.

Skylar bumps into you on accident as she tries to wrangle one of the homemade signs that are jammed into the bag on the floor. They’re incredibly cheesy, but Josie had insisted that they’re a necessary part of the surprise. You help her unfold them and hand her and Jamie the one they’ll hold together. It’s a simple mess of glitter and paint that reads, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Daddy!” Josie gives it a long look like she’s considering hoisting it herself and you roll your eyes as you slide out the sign that Josie made for the two of you. You haven’t seen it yet and you’re a little nervous. Josie is a lot braver than you are and she’s been married for a decade while you’re in your first real relationship that’s barely a week old. You carefully unroll the sign and feel your cheeks heat as you read the words on it. “It’s not just puppy love, Happy Valentine’s Day, Dogfighters!” It’s sweet and playful but your eyes are caught on one particular four-letter word.

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears so loud that you almost miss the rise of cheers that rise through the arena. You look up as Josie grabs your arm in one hand and her side of the sign in the other. You’re yanked back to the present as a familiar blur of green whips down the ice towards you. The team heads down to their end of the ice to start warming up and you remember to lift your edge of the sign as your eyes dart furiously from one player to the next, searching for number 68 and any sign of Javy. You hear the kids screaming for their dad in the corner of your consciousness, followed by the pound of their little hands against the glass as Reuben skates up.

Your eyes turn more frantic even though you know he’s here somewhere, he has to be. Your heart thunders in your chest as the unreasonable doubts start crawling in and making a home in your aching chest. You miss the moment a figure on the ice stops until a full body slams into the glass in front of you making the whole wall shake and then you’re looking at Javy’s full grin and wide eyes and he looks like an excited puppy as he gapes at you. You can’t help the excited grin that bubbles to the surface and matches his. You wave slightly as you place your hands on the glass over his on the other side.

“Hi,” you whisper even though you know he won’t be able to hear you.

“Hi,” he breathes back. His breath clouds the glass and your stomach flips when he draws a lopsided heart and writes “hi” inside it. You giggle as grins at you. Your moment is broken as Jake skates by and grabs Javy by the back of his jersey playfully. He blows you a kiss as he drags Javy back towards warmups. You try not to think too hard about the fact that Javy’s eyes stay on you the entire time before they disappear back down the tunnel.

***

You know you should be focussing on the score. It’s currently tied at 1-1 but instead, you’re still dizzy over the adrenaline of the day and the way Javy’s playing at the top of his game today. He’d assisted Jake’s goal in the second period, and you spent the whole break watching the replays online since it was on the other side of the rink. The score remains tied and the clock is running on the third period. Your lips are gnawed to hell as you watch the clock drop lower and lower. This period the Dogfighters are shooting on your side of the rink and you’ve been glued to the glass since it started. You wince as one of Seattle’s defensemen scuffles with Javy by the boards feet away from you, digging at the puck as it slides between their sticks and skates. Your brow furrows as a stray elbow catches Javy’s shoulder and you shout out in protest, as your hands find the glass where you bang alongside the Seattle fans. When you hear them cheering for the other player, you hear your voice rise, cheering for Javy amidst the louder screams. You’re caught up in the fever, the adrenaline of the game, the excitement of the day, and seeing your boyfriend. You catch his eye briefly as his eyes dart up unconsciously and you swear he winks at you, sending heat up your cheeks and knocking the breath from your lungs. Javy manages to dig the puck out of the corner and you watch as he knocks it backward to where Jake’s waiting to whisk it off towards the goal. Your heart is in your throat as you watch Jake’s approach, the opposing defense coming up to try and block his path to the goal. His linemates are trying to open themselves up for a pass but there are no open paths on the ice.

You watch his stick swing anyway, but you don’t see the puck fly into the fray. Your brow furrows in confusion until you watch Javy shoot out from behind him, the puck dancing along the edge of his stick, completely unmarked. Your stomach flips as you see the look on his face. For a moment it feels like you’re watching the sun come out from behind the clouds as you take in the boyish grin stretched across Javy’s face. His eyes are glinting with mischief you’ve seen plenty of times on your students’ tiny faces, and he’s glowing with confidence as he whips down the ice. Your heart is in your throat as you watch the other players slowly realize where the puck has gone and then you watch the black disk fly off the end of Javy’s stick. The goalie starts to move in his direction, but it’s clear he hasn’t realized Javy’s shot until it’s too late and his glove is still inches away as the puck sails over his shoulder.

You’re sure you’re screaming and then Josie’s screaming and she’s grabbing you and you’re grabbing her, and you can’t take your eyes off him as he roars in triumph and then he’s pointing with both hands and you’re trying to understand what at, it doesn’t make any sense and then he’s laughing and you read his lips as he tries to contain himself. “You.” Your brows furrow and you look down at yourself in confusion before turning around to look behind you as Josie laughs beside you as the other boys start crowding Javy.

Josie grasps your shoulders as your confusion grows. “It’s you, Roadie.”

“W-what’s me?” You ask, glancing back towards the ice where Javy’s getting set up for the next face-off.

You look back in time to see Josie shake her head, a fond look in her eyes. “Everything,” she says before giving you a tight hug and you feel your stomach twist as you watch the jumbotrons replay the goal and you watch Javy point at the stands all over again. Oh. You. You’ve spent your whole adult life expecting not to be chosen, never expecting to be anything but the butt of a joke, that you weren’t worthy of being chosen. People look through you, people look past you, people don’t look at you, people don’t see you. And yet in the last month, you’ve felt more seen than you have in the last thirty years of your life. They look at you, they see you. He sees you.

You don’t hear the whistle, you don’t hear the last of the game, you don’t hear the horn as the clock runs out. You’re overwhelmed, and you’ve been overwhelmed before, but it’s different this time. The usual fear, the pain, the panic, none of that is what you feel now. “Roadie?” You blink and realize belatedly that you’re crying and you turn to her and throw your arms around her neck.

“Thank you, just thank you.” You don’t recognize the sound of your voice as you shake your head and just hold your best friend. She doesn’t question it and holds you back like she already knows, and maybe she does.

***

You place a hand over your knee to try and stop the way it’s restlessly bouncing as you sit on the bench in some hallway, waiting for Javy. You’re not a spouse, so you weren’t allowed into the locker room area with Josie and the kids. A member of the Kraken’s staff had led the four of you to the private section of the stadium and you’ve been waiting for at least an hour. You turn your phone on, glancing at the clock and debating texting Javy but you know he’s probably just finishing up his post-game responsibilities. He knows you’re here. He’ll find you. You stifle a yawn as you stare at the screen, your stomach dropping as you realize how few hours you have until you’ll have to head back to the airport and back to your life.

You close your eyes, trying to ignore the math that your brain insists on doing because it’s not enough and you’re not ready to be back home, exhausted and alone, thrust back into your routine for another three days until Javy gets home. You barely suppress a groan as you lean your head against the wall behind you, trying to reconcile the consequences of your actions as the lull in the business of the day gives you a break from the adrenaline that’s been coursing through you all day. You’re slowly descending into a spiral of your own thoughts when you hear the squeak of hinges in your periphery and you turn your head, your body sitting up, the giddy excitement of seeing Javy beating out the exhaustion settling into your bones as you watch the corner, begging Javy to come around it.

You’ve barely caught enough of his silhouette to confirm it’s him before you’re bouncing off the bench and running for him. Running to him is a blur, but then you’re in his arms, and the scent of sweat mixed with his cologne engulfs your nose and you feel the tension melt out of your body as you settle against him. The two of you stay silent for a long beat, your bodies refamiliarizing themselves with the feeling of holding the other, committing it to memory, to carry the two of you through the rest of the week. When the two of you finally choose to speak, it happens at the same time.

“Thank you,” Javy whispers into your hair.

“Thank you,” You croak, your voice breaking over the words all over again. The silence that falls between you is comfortable and you can tell he’s waiting for you to go first so you tell him the words that have been on your lips for the last hour. “Thank you for seeing me.” Your chest heaves shakily as you fight the words out, but his arms just tighten around you as he holds you, like he’d physically hold you together if you shattered to pieces.

He pulls back and removes his hands from your waist to cup your cheeks as his dark eyes look into yours and straight through to your soul. “You’re impossible to miss.” He says as he strokes his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks, and when he says it, you find that it’s not so hard to believe it. “Thank you for coming,” he whispers before running his nose against yours, your lips just shy of ghosting over each other.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be,” you whisper back, and when he kisses you it feels like you’ve let out a breath you’ve been holding for the last week.

“Alright, Meep,” Javy says when he finally pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours, arms returning to your waist to keep you close, “you gonna tell me what you’re doing here, beautiful?” You feel your cheeks heat even though you’re already in his arms, and he’s already kissed you.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Javy.” It sounds so silly as you say the words, but you wonder if that’s because it’s the first time you’ve said them romantically.

He chuckles softly before pressing a simple kiss to your lips “Happy Valentine’s Day, Meep, but I mean what’re you doing in Seattle on a school night.” You shrug slightly because you don’t really have an answer.

“Josie’s the right brand of crazy and she has the budget to back it up?” You both laugh at that.

“I hate to ruin the mood,” Javy says before closing his eyes for a moment, “but when do you leave?” Your stomach drops again. In the joy of being reunited with Javy, you’d forgotten that you’ll have to leave him again in just a few short hours.

“We have a red-eye back to San Diego so we can make it back to work tomorrow,” you explain and you know Javy’s doing his best not to mirror the disappointment you’re feeling. “But you’ll be back in San Diego on Friday, right? That’s not so bad.” One glance at him says that he believes your words about as much as you do. “But at least we have tonight,” you relent.

“At least we have tonight,” he agrees. “Well then, let’s not waste a second.” He leads you out of the stadium. Most fans have since dispersed, returning home since it’s a Tuesday. The area around the stadium is lit with lights as and there are a fair amount of people milling around. Javy takes your hand and leads you through the park surrounding the stadium as you crane your neck back to get a good look at the Space Needle as it closer and closer.

There are a few people milling around and entering the Space Needle as you and Javy approach the ticket desk. The lady at the desk’s eyes widen in recognition as Javy purchases tickets for the two of you. When you enter, you stay close to Javy, feeling nerves bubble like butterflies as the photographer takes your picture and you watch Javy give him him email address for the photos. “My privacy is already nonexistent, there’s no need to compromise yours,” he explains when you offer to give yours instead. You walk up the spiral walkway to the elevator with Javy’s hand in yours. The ride to the top is silent and you’re sure you notice the elevator attendance staring at the two of you. The fact that you’re wearing Javy’s last name on your back doesn’t really help with the subtlety.

When the elevator doors open your breath catches in your throat. There are glass walls separating you from the balcony that wraps around the room the elevator opens onto, but you can already see the lights of Seattle twinkling from here. You find yourself dragging Javy to the balcony. The city of Seattle is alight all around you. From here you can see Climate Pledge Area, the rest of the park, and various museums in the area around you. You can also see the darkness of Elliot Bay. As you make your way around the balcony, you come face to face with the dazzling skyscrapers of downtown as the city itself sprawls out into the distance. It’s gorgeous and your fingers itch to paint the stunning view. You pull out your phone, snapping some inspiration photos. You’re already planning how you’re going to approach the painting when Javy slides his arms around your waist from behind, leaning his chin on your shoulder.

“What’s going on in your pretty little head, Meep?” He asks and you feel embarrassment creep over you for just abandoning him when he brought you up here and came all the way here to see him.

“Sorry, I was just thinking about how much I want to paint this view,” You explain as you gaze out at the city below you.

“Well, I can’t wait to see it,” Javy whispers. “And I hope I have first dibs when it goes on sale,” he murmurs, nuzzling your cheek gently.

“Javy, I’m not making you pay for my art!” You exclaim indignantly, leaning into him as the wind off the bay whips around the two of you. Javy wraps his arms around you from behind, pulling you close.

“Pretty girl, where is your coat?” He asks as he snuggles you.

“We live in San Diego, I don’t have one!” You grumble indignantly. “It doesn’t get this cold there,” he nods against your shoulder.

“Okay, that is true, I’ll give you that.” He rubs your arms. “At least you’re wearing long sleeves,” he points out.

“Do you like it?” You’d been too shy to ask last time. Well, that and last time you hadn’t been wearing his name as his real girlfriend.

“I love it,” he says with a forcefulness that makes your heart flutter.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” You wiggle out of his grip to get the box out of your purse. “I know we’re going to celebrate on Saturday, but I figured since I was going to be here, I could give you your gift today!”

“Meep,” Javy groans. “You came all this way, you didn’t have to get me anything, plus I don’t have your gift here,” he bemoans and you wave him off.

“You didn’t know I was coming, and neither did I until yesterday, so I had already gotten you a gift. Plus, you bought the tickets to come up here,” you remind him. You hand him the narrow box and he arches a curious eyebrow as you draw the sleeves of your jersey over your hands and hug your arms around yourself. Javy notices and gently guides you so that your back is to the building behind you and he’s blocking the wind with his body before he opens the box. You hold your breath anxiously as he unwraps the paper inside before his breath catches.

“Roadie…” he murmurs and you swallow hard, trying to decipher if you’ve hit the nail on the head or missed it entirely. Javy lifts the tie out of the box, examining it in the light that’s filtering out from inside. You’ve covered the originally-white fabric with fabric paint, doing your best to recreate a slice of the cliff painting he bought at your show. And there at the very bottom are the embracing figures that represent him and you. “Roadie, this is beautiful. Did you paint this?” His voice is full of awe as he looks at you and you nod.

“I know it’s not the most faithful recreation but fabric paint is pretty fickle. I thought maybe you could wear it with one of your game day suits.” You admit. While exploring the team’s Instagram account you found the highlight of game day suit posts, and that had inspired you to make the tie.

“I’m getting rid of every other tie I own when I get home,” Javy declares and your eyes widen in horror.

“But this is blue, and it won’t match every suit!” You protest and he chuckles.

“Well then I’ll just get rid of all the blue ones, and every year I can get rid of a different color.” You see the nerves dancing in his eyes at the boldness of his statement, at the assumption that there will be more years. That you’ll be together long enough for a dozen Valentine’s Days and a dozen ties.

“Well I do take requests,” you say and you watch the anxiety leave his shoulders and you kiss your boyfriend at the top of the Space Needle on the night of your very first Valentine’s Day, and everything is perfect.

You had chased after him, begging him to stay, to delay his departure. Your hands had gripped the fabric of his trousers as you sank to your knees before him, tears streaking down your face as you babbled and sobbed for him to not leave your side. Your father had crouched down next to you, a gentle hand on your head as you sniffled pathetically.

“What’s the matter,” he asked gently, thumb stroking away the drops of tears that fell from your eyes.

“Something,” you hiccuped, your bottom lip trembling, “something bad is going to happen. I can feel it. Please don’t go, Papa.”

“What could possibly go wrong?” He asked, but something in his voice sounded off. At the time, you hadn’t paid it much mind. You were in hysterics, after all, and that in and of itself was so unlike you. That inner sense of knowing had always kept you cool and collected, warning you away from danger or towards something joyful. Never had you felt that deep sense of foreboding, though. Like your whole world was about to be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice.

“Everything will be alright, little minnow,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling in the early morning light. “There’s a sort of magic that courses through your blood, always has been. Even if something happens to me, you’ll be just fine. I promise.”

It had taken Bradley pulling you away for your father to leave, and you watched from the docks as the silhouette of his ship disappeared past the horizon, a sense of foreboding clutching at your heart.

And it had been right, of course.

You had tried to hold on to his words, praying that he was right. Hoping beyond all hope that he would come home.

But he hadn’t.

You remembered how the ocean spray dotted your cheeks, much like how it did now. The Hangman dipped with the waves as you stared out over the rails. You weren’t sure why that memory was on your mind now, the ache still as strong within your chest as it was the day it found a home there, but perhaps it was due to the sense of foreboding that now pulled at the back of your neck, warning of something yet to come.

“We’re nearing the triangle, lads,” a crewman murmured, grizzled face glancing around almost conspiratorially. You paused on your way to the galley, ears perking at his words.

“Aye, and what about it?” Snapped his companion, a surly looking fellow with a dark beard.

“Don’t tell me you’ve not heard o’ the tales of the triangle,” the first man scoffed, giving the bearded fellow a rather unimpressed look. A moment passed as the two stared at one another.

“I thought e’ry good sailor knew about the legends of the sea,” he continued with a shake of his head. He clapped his companion on the shoulder, leaning in as if to tell him a secret. Several other crew members stopped what they were doing to listen in as well.

“The Bermuda Triangle,” the man started, his tone taking on a warning tone, “is home to all sorts o’ monsters and fiend. They say God himself cursed this bit o’ sea, sending all sorts o’ devilish creatures to live here where they mightn’t cause any trouble for the res’.”

“You’re full of shite,” guffawed one man, leaning back so far on his perch, he nearly fell to the deck below. The storyteller scowled at him as several others shook their heads almost knowingly.

“You’re laughin’ now,” the storyteller growled, shaking his finger at the man, “but mark my words, lad: several of ye will be doomed to live out this cursed existence at the bottom of the sea before we see land again.”

Several more men let out a loud chorus of laughter as the crowd began to disperse. The sense of foreboding sat heavy as you turned back towards the underbelly of the ship.

In the galley, Bob was already hard at work making that night’s supper. You slid in easily beside him, chopping away at some carrots as he messed with one of the pots.

“Alright, out with it,” he said after a few minutes. You paused, looking at him in confusion as he fixed you with a rather unamused look.

“What?” You asked, sliding the carrots off to the side as you grabbed for some potatoes. He rolled his eyes at you.

“Don’t ‘what’ me,” he scowled, waving the wooden spoon at you. “You came down here with this look on your face and haven’t said a word to me since. Now what’s got you in such a mood, hm?”

You chewed on your bottom lip, avoiding his keen eyes as you contemplated on how to answer. There truly was no reason for you to be feeling this way. Or at least, nothing new that should. Of course, the rapidly approaching deadline had been near the forefront of your mind for a while, but this was different. This sense of impending doom was more urgent, more…immediate.

You couldn’t tell him that, you just couldn’t. You already felt crazy, you didn’t need word to spread of your premonitions. Really, after everything that had already happened, you didn’t need accusations of witchcraft being thrown at you—not when you were so close to the end.

“The men were just talking about sea monsters, is all,” you lied. Bob scoffed, turning back to stir whatever he had bubbling away in the pot.

“Sea monsters,” he muttered with a shake of his head. “The things they come up with.”

“You don’t think they’re telling the truth?” You pressed, an arch to your brow as you slowly went back to cutting up the potatoes.

“I’d believe it more if they actually told the truth once in a while,” he snorted back at you.

“You’re the cook on a cursed ship where all but two of the crew members don’t even need to eat,” you hummed, “and you’re questioning the existence of sea monsters?”

There was a brief pause as Bob mulled over your words.

“Hurry up with the potatoes,” he grumbled, and you did your best to hide your smirk.

The evening passed much like any other, but still a feeling kept nagging at you, and the more time went on, the stronger it became. You laid in your bed that night, the rest of the crew having retreated for some shut eye as well. Only the watchman and the helmsman stayed awake, and though you tried, not even the slow, rhythmic rocking of the Hangman could lure you to sleep. Natasha snored quietly on the other side of the room, and you envied her in that moment. You tossed and turned helplessly as you willed yourself to get at least a few hours of sleep.

You finally gave up as the telltale signs of dawn crept through the window of your cabin, casting a faint, blue glow across the wood. You let out a heavy, tired sigh as you slowly sat up. The air was cool around you, and you couldn’t help the shiver that ran up your back. Natasha shifted on her bed, rolling over as you paused and waited for her to settle once more. After a moment’s hesitation, you slowly slipped out of bed and padded towards your chest, lifting the lid to reveal your meager belongings. You changed quickly, shooting glances at Natasha’s sleeping figure every so often to make sure you hadn’t woken her up. Your boots tapped against the floor as you padded towards the door, careful to keep the old wood from creaking as you slipped out.

Clouds covered the sky, a mist clinging to the air around you as you sucked in a lungful of briny, sea air. You peered behind you, smiling softly at the helmsman, Daniel, as he nodded your way.

Waves crashed against the hull, a familiar sound that brought you some sense of relief, no matter how small it may be. You walked towards the edge of the ship, grabbing on to one of the ropes as you leaned over the railing. The water below churned into white sea foam, the spray flying up to meet your cheek. The murky depths gave no hint as to what may lurk beneath, but the feeling within you pulsed ominously.

“Must be somewhere off the coast of Florida by now.”

You startled, head twisting to take in the sight of Jake just a few feet behind you. The wind whipped around you, twisting through your hair and obscuring your vision for a brief moment before you pushed it back.

“Are we?” you asked, turning back with a squint towards the water, as if it would help confirm what he told you. The wood echoed beneath his boots as he walked towards you, pausing just behind as the waves crashed against the hull.

“I’d expect so,” he replied, squinting his eyes at the horizon, as if the answer lay somewhere just out of sight. “If we aren’t, then we should be soon.”

You hummed, the silence between you stretching from moments to seconds to minutes. Jake cleared his throat, shifting closer to you. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his gaze trained on you, and a slight shiver ran up your spine.

“What’s wrong?”

You glanced at him, a frown pulling on your lips at his question. His face was serious, lips pressed tightly together, a crease of worry on his brow as he studied you. You shook your head, turning away from him. How could you explain this feeling within you? How could you explain to him this sense of dread and foreboding that curdled in your stomach, urging you to run, to get away. Your lips parted like you wanted to answer, but no sound came out. Instead, you let out a frustrated sigh, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you contemplated how to explain.

“I don’t know,” you settled on finally, eyes shifting from the rolling waves to the hard wood underneath your feet. The air around you felt charged, like it did during a thunderstorm. The waves seemed to grow quiet as a heavy feeling dripped through your ribs to clutch at your heart.

Another pulse ripped through you, your breath catching in your throat. Several of the crew members were making their way up to the deck now, laughing and shouting orders at one another. You looked around wildly, your heart hammering in your chest much like it had on the siren’s isle.

“Something’s not right.” Your voice sounded small even to you. Jake watched with worry at his brow as you pushed off of the railing, pushing past a pair of crew members as you searched wildly for what, you weren’t sure. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to run, to hide, to do something.

“Sail ho!”

You looked skyward as the lookout above signaled towards the horizon. Jake cursed under his breath, already taking off in search of Javy. You peered towards the sea. Sure enough, you could just make out the distinct sight of white sails billowing in your direction. You searched for Jake, spying him on the top deck next to Javy, a telescope to his eye as he peered at the sails.

“It’s a hulk,” he spat, lowering the scope and shoving it back towards Javy. “Flying the Union Jack. Ready the sails and make haste! We’re going to outrun those redcoats.”

The crew began running around the ship, readying the sails and tying knots as they went. You moved to help them, stopping short as another pulse shot through you, stilling you instantly.

“Guppy!”

Bradley grabbed you by the arm, shaking you momentarily from your stupor.

“Bradley?” You questioned, unsure of yourself in that moment. He pursed his lips as he gave you a once over, pulling on your arm and leading you across the deck.

“Come on,” he ground out, letting go of your arm momentarily to tie a rope off on the mast. “Don’t just stand around, help!”

You blinked at him, the familiar sense of panic crawling its way under your skin and towards your chest.

“Bradley, I-”

“What are you waiting for?” He asked, a frown on his face as he turned to look at you. Confusion and irritation marred his face, and you swallowed thickly.

Before you could answer, a gust of wind burst across the deck, nearly knocking you over. Bradley grabbed onto you, steadying you on your feet as the ship rocked dangerously in the sudden onslaught of waves.

“What in the hell,” Bradley cursed, watching as various other crew members also stumbled and struggled to stay upright. Droplets started to rain down, soon becoming a downpour as thunder roared above you.

“Where did this storm come from?” He shouted.

“Guppy!”

You turned to see Jake scrambling towards you, shoving a couple of his men to the side in order to get to you quicker. His green eyes flashed with near panic as he slid to a stop in front of you.

“You need to get inside!” He shouted, voice barely audible over the roar of the waves and shouts of the other men. His hand landed on your bicep, turning to tug you towards the cabins. Before he could even take a step, a shadow fell over you, and you turned just in time to see a monstrous wave towering over the masts of the Hangman. Your eyes rounded in horror as shrieks of panic permeated the air.

“Watch out!” A man cried just as the wave began its decent. You sucked in a sharp breath as the water crashed down onto the decks with a deafening roar. You had no time to grab onto anything as the water slammed into you, knocking Jake’s hand loose as you were sent careening back. Your back hit the wall of the railing, knocking the air from your lungs only for it to be replaced with a mouthful of seawater.

The water quickly rescinded, leaving you choking and gasping for air. Your throat burned from the saltwater, your eyes stinging as you fought to focus your eyesight. Your head swam with fogginess caused by the force of the wave and your head bouncing off the wood. Your hand came up to cradle your forehead, willing the pulsing to stop so you could get your bearings. You were vaguely aware fo the chaos that surrounded you, the pulses of pain giving way to something more sinister. All at once the world became to intense—the waves too loud, the flashes of lightning too bright. The sensations began to grow stronger, your breaths coming out in pants as your heart began to hammer away in your chest.

Something was wrong…but what?

Hands grabbed you, hauling you up and to the side just as another wave crashed into the ship from behind you. You landed on the deck with a grunt, the blow of your landing only softened by the person underneath you. You tore your eyes open, looking up to see Jake already watching you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, voice a deep timbre as he helped you up to a sitting position.

“I-” Before you could answer, a shrill roar like the sound of breaking class pierced the air, chilling your blood in your veins and causing your heart to stop. You scrambled to your feet, Jake not far behind you as your attention turned towards the dark waters surrounding you. That heavy feeling of dread filled you once more as movement rippled beneath the surface. The air was unsettlingly silent, pulling at your throat and squeezing it tight. The storm had calmed some, but rain still fell down onto the deck, drenching you down to the bone.

More movement caught your eye, something circling the boat, and you watched as slowly, the waves parted. Scales flickered in the light peeking through the grey clouds, causing a rippling effect along the greenish blue scales of the serpent. It was easily bigger than the whole ship, towering above the masts as it stared down with hungry, vicious eyes. Its jaw opened to reveal two rows of razor-sharp teeth, a horrible hissing noise leaving its maw as its body moved from side to side with the waves.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, terror striking through you at the sight. Several men shouted warnings just before the serpent came crashing down towards the deck. A splintering crack resounded in the air, drawing your attention to one of the masts, broken and hurtling towards the deck from the serpent’s strike. You had little time to react, only managing to dodge out of the way as the wood hit the deck, the vibrations of the impact rattling your teeth. A whizzing sound caught your attention, and you looked down just as the rope pulled tight around your ankle, dragging you back towards the railing.

You scrambled for the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh, unsheathing it and working furiously to sever the rope before it pulled you overboard. The threads released you with a snap, and you watched as the rope slithered over the railing and down into the depths below.

The serpent gave another mighty roar before once again diving towards the deck, the screams of men cutting short as the monster sank its fangs into flesh, dragging their wriggling bodies into its gullet. The sound of a familiar cry rang out in your ears, and you turned to see Mickey laying on his back, hands grasping desperately at his right leg. His teeth clenched tightly as blood poured from the wound, and a chill ran through you.

“Mickey!” You cried out, scrambling to your feet. Your boots thudded against the wood beneath you, but you only got a couple of feet before another ominous pulse shot through you, stopping you in your tracks.

The world seemed to grow still once more as the noise around you gave way to a high-pitched ringing in your ears, your breath coming out in slow, labored breaths as the feeling inside of you compelled you to turn. Slowly, you turned on the balls of your feet, facing the railing where your eyes met golden, snake-like irises. Blood dripped from the jaws of the serpent as a low, hissing noise escaped from its throat, the smell of death hot on its breath. You were vaguely aware of your name being shouted from behind you, too focused on the beast that stared you down. It made no move to strike at you, it simply continued to stare as if observing you. An energy hummed between the two of you, a feeling you could almost describe as familiarity passing between the two of you. It leaned forward slightly, nostrils flaring as it gave you a curious sniff, its exhale blowing over you as it let out a low growl. It blinked at you slowly before retreating with a hiss.

The sounds of shouting off in the distance drew your attention away from the monster and towards the water beyond where the British ship was drawing closer. The serpent’s head snapped back to look at the new ship, a low growl rumbling in its throat as it sank into the dark waters surrounding it. You let out a shaky exhale just as a hand gripped your shoulder, pulling you into a wall of solid muscle. A second body joined in, wrapping arms around you from behind.

“Jesus Christ,” Bradley breathed from behind. “You scared me half to death.”

You didn’t say anything in response, too shaken up by your experience. Why had the serpent stopped? What had passed between the two of you? You were only pulled away from your thoughts by the shaking of the chest you were pressed into.

You pulled away slightly, just enough to look up into Jake’s face. You were met with a look of terror mixed with relief as he held you. He opened his mouth as if to say something, stopping only as the terrified screams of the British crew echoed through the air. You turned in Jake and Bradley’s arms to see the serpent beginning a new hunt, its meal easy pickings as it managed to tip the British naval ship on its side. Your hands tightened in Jake’s shirt as the sea beast let out a triumphant roar, lightning cracking overhead as rain began to pour down.

“Come on,” Jake murmured, releasing you slowly and turning to what remained of the crew. “We need to get to land.”

A/N: And thus marks the end of my hiatus! I'm still working on some other updates, but hopefully I'll be a little more motivated to write now that I'll be on the road a fair bit again. Thank you so much for all your patience. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get more updates out to you guys soon, but please bear with me!

“I know!” The woman looks up from where she’s sprawled over the counter, wiping tears from her eyes as she shakes her head at him. “That’s the best part!” Javy flips his oldest sister off as he puts his hands on his hips.

“Come on, Isa, help me out here!” He considers hanging up on her, but he really needs her help. She turns her head to make eye contact with the camera, still sprawled across the counter. The look in her eyes is a combination of mirth with a sharp glint of something dangerous and Javy swallows nervously because she looks so damn much like their mother right now.

“Tell me what’s really going on, Javier, and then maybe I’ll help.” Her voice is dripping with danger that urges him not to push her but dammit he doesn’t have time for this. He’s supposed to pick you up in an hour and he doesn’t want to be late. His mother raised him better than that.

“I have a date. I feel like I should get her flowers.” He blatantly ignores the way his heart starts pounding as the four-letter word passes his lips and focuses on the cool glare his sister is angling at him as she sits back up.

“With the girl you’re dating?” Javy’s brow furrows in confusion before it hits him. Fuck.

“Isa… Isa I can explain,” he stammers but the look he gets from her has him snapping his mouth shut so fast that he swears his teeth rattle.

“Javier Antonio Machado… you were raised by not one but FOUR women and we have to find out you have a GIRLFRIEND from the MEDIA?!” Javy flinches. A heavy silence falls between them before Javy dares open his mouth.

“It’s not that simple Isa, it’s complicated. She’s not technically my girlfriend, well she is, but that’s only on paper, she just…” He hesitates and watches his sister’s suspicious eyes narrow so he plows on. “We’refakedating.” The words rush out before he can avoid them and he watches Isa’s eyes widen and he keeps going before she can stop him. “We’re fake dating but turns out she’s actually really nice, and I think I like her, but I’m not sure because I’ve never liked anyone like this before. I don’t want her to get hurt, least of all by me, but it’s probably inevitable, and I’m really trying not to think about that right now so I’m taking her out on a date because I think she’ll like it and I want her to like it so I was thinking I should buy her flowers but I’ve never bought flowers before, I mean I have once but those were just from the grocery store and I didn’t really think about it, and this time I am thinking about it and that’s why I’m asking WHAT KIND OF FLOWERS DO GIRLS LIKE!” His chest is heaving by the time he finishes and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. For once his sister doesn’t say anything and he feels ridiculous, standing there like he’s just run a marathon staring at her staring at him.

“Do you know her favorite color?” Isa says finally and Javy blinks a few times before he realizes she’s asked him a question. He shakes his head even as guilt bites at his stomach for never asking. She purses her lips in thought as she looks around her at the rows of pots and various greenery. “Well then, let’s get to work, shall we?” Javy lets his shoulders slump in relief as he nods nervously at his sister as she picks up the phone and starts walking around the store.

***

“Roadie these are really good!” You look away from the bathroom mirror where you’re putting the finishing touches on your hair. Unlike last time, you’ve gone as simple as possible. The green dress is elegant and you’ve elected for your usual light makeup, except for the slight dusting of gold Nat tastefully brushed on your eyelids. As you shyly regard your reflection you can’t help but feel beautiful.

You follow the sound of Nat’s voice to your living room where she’s examining the various canvases leaning against the walls. The space isn’t traditional in any sense, lacking any entertaining furniture such as sofas and chairs. Instead, you’ve repurposed the space into a makeshift studio, the space taken up with easels and tables, canvases leaning against anything and everything in various states of completion. It’s a little chaotic but it works for you. Truth be told, you’ve had more people visit in the last month than in the last three years.

Earlier, you’d stared at your phone while sitting on your bed, brow furrowing as you hesitated over who to call. Normally, Josie would be the obvious choice, but normally she’d be the only choice since you didn’t have any other friends. Tonight, however, you were faced with the possibility of options, your phone feeling heavy with the weight of all the new numbers you’ve been collecting. You could still taste the bitterness in the back of your throat after Josie had dressed you for your last date with Javy and how you’d had to explain to her afterward why her thousand-dollar heels were somewhere at the bottom of the bay. Before you could overthink your decision, you’d called Nat, inviting her over to help you get ready for your date.

To your surprise, you’ve become comfortable around her. She knows Javy, and slowly but surely she’s getting to know you, and as much as you love Josie, you can tell how much animosity she harbors for Javy. With every day that passes, you’re realizing that somehow you’ve started falling for Javy and while you’re terrified of the realization, you’re even more terrified of how Josie will react to it. Nat, however, you don’t mind. She’s only ever known you as Javy’s fake girlfriend, so if she’s going to judge you over any of your choices, it’s that, and she’s already made it clear that she doesn’t.

You make your way over to see which canvas Nat is looking at and your cheeks heat as it comes into view. The canvas is covered in swathes of dark shades of blue, silhouetting the shapes of the edge of the cliff and the roiling water at the bottom. The background is so fierce and dark that it draws attention from the tiny figures in the corner at the edge, curled around each other. You don’t normally find yourself painting scenes from your life, but something about the salt in your lungs, and the way the wind whipped around you as you became aware of your body like a live wire, has been stuck in your throat every since so you’d let the feeling pour out of you onto the canvas. You had meant for it to be a landscape, but the figures in the corner, light bluish-gray forms with no defining features, had seemingly painted themselves, flowing out of your brush before you could stop them.

“Thanks,” you murmur and Nat turns from the canvas to you, smiling.

“I mean it, Roadie. The world deserves to see them.” You squirm with embarrassment under the compliment but manage to find your words.

“I actually, I have my first gallery show next week,” you splutter. You haven’t told anyone, despite jumping and dancing around your living room when you received the news. You’ve dreamed of having your art shown at a gallery for years, a dream you’d thought was out of reach for the time being until you’d gotten the call earlier this week. “It’s not much, just a pop-up event for one night, but it’s something.” It’s everything. Nat blinks at you for a long second before she screams and jumps up, almost knocking over the easel in her excitement and she wraps you tightly in a hug, jumping up and down and you can’t help but join in.

“Oh, Roadie! That’s amazing, congratulations!” She squeezes you tightly and you try to force down the tears welling up in your eyes at Nat’s enthusiasm, trying not to ruin the makeup you’ve just finished. “You have to give me the info so I can swing by!” You freeze, surprised at the offer. You hadn’t even considered that anyone would actually want to come.

“But, but you’ve seen everything already,” you wave a hand at the room around you. She looks at you like you’re crazy.

“I mean yeah, but I haven’t seen them all hung up! Plus, I want to come see YOU, silly! This is huge, we have to celebrate!” You swallow hard as your lip begins to wobble and Nat’s eyes soften as she pulls you back into a hug. “Hey, it’s okay, that’s what friends do, okay? We support each other, we cry together during the losses, and we celebrate the wins no matter how big or small. I’m so proud of you, Roadie and I hope you can be proud of you too.” You nod into Nat’s shoulder, sniffling as you try to hold back overwhelmed tears. When she pulls away, she motions for you to stay still while she disappears into your bedroom, coming back with a tissue that she carefully uses to dab at your wet eyes, making sure not to smudge your makeup. “One more thing,” she digs into her pocket before she shows you a clear tube and when you frown at it in confusion she unwraps the packaging before carefully applying the clear gloss to your lips. “There we go, subtle but has the perfect amount of zing.” She holds up her phone camera for you to examine the way your lips shine with the clear gloss. She’s right, it’s subtle, not tinted, but it makes your lips look for lack of a better word, juicy. It feels sexy while being simple and it[‘s your turn to hug Nat.

“It’s perfect, thank you, Nat.” She squeezes you back before letting you go and pressing the small tube into your hands.

“Just so you know?” She says with a fond smile. “I’m rooting for the two of you.” You feel your cheeks heat at her words and you surprise yourself when your next words come out.

“Yeah, me too.” Before she can reply your doorbell buzzes and your head jerks towards the door as your eyes widen. Javy’s here.

“Go get him, tiger,” Nat says as she pushes you towards the door, gently and you shuffle over, stopping to bend over and step into your shoes for the evening. Another product of your and Nat’s shopping spree, they’re simple wedges that provide good support and are much shorter than the shoes Josie lent you.

You unlock the door with shaking hands and the sight on the other side steals your breath. You’ve seen Javy in a suit multiple times before, from the day you met, to your first date, and then yesterday at the game, but the sight of him in a full tuxedo has your heart skipping a few beats. The tuxedo is a simple black but the sight of his crisp dress shirt buttoned to his throat, complete with a black bow tie has him looking more handsome than the sexy that his usual style tends to lean towards. You’re so busy ogling him that you don’t see the flowers at first but your breath catches as your eyes find the brilliant orange flowers. You reach out a shocked hand to trace the curves of the tiger lily blossoms as you try to ignore the voice in your head screaming that you have their pink cousins currently wilting on your kitchen table after you’d excitedly purchased them for yourself last week.

“Hi,” Javy says and his voice is so soft you almost convince yourself that he’s as out of breath as you are.

“Hi,” your voice is breathy as you finally tear your eyes away from the flowers back to his face. “Tiger lilies,” you whisper like it’s a question and he looks down at the flowers like he’s just remembering he’s holding them.

“They reminded me of you,” he says to the flowers before he looks back to you, and your brow furrows in confusion. The blooms are bright and bold, shaped like trumpets that announce their presence, nothing like you. “They’re delicate and shy,” he runs a finger along a bloom that’s slumped over slightly, “but they’re also bright and full of life.” He gives you a gentle lopsided smile that almost knocks you over. Even so simple and small, it feels like you’ve been hit by a sunbeam and you can’t help the way you smile back.

“Thank you, Javy, they’re beautiful, I love them.” You reach for them and as he hands them to you, you realize they’re in a vase already.

“My sister, she runs a flower shop, and she said if you should get a proper bouquet made so whoever you’re buying the flowers for gets a gift instead of a chore, or something like that.” He scratches the back of his neck with his now-empty hand.

Before you can answer, the door opens wider and Nat appears. “Well look at you, who knew you clean up so nice? I’m gonna head out so you guys can be on your way, but I’ll take those first.” She takes the vase from you and heads back inside as Javy gapes after her.

“Sorry, I invited her over to help me get ready-” Javy turns back to you, shaking his head.

“No, no, that’s fine, great even.” He pauses before thoughtfully adding, “She needs more friends.”

“JAVY MACHADO I HEARD THAT!” Nat yells from inside the house before she emerges, glaring at him. “Fuck you, too.” She says flashing the finger at him before stomping past the two of you and heading for the parking lot. Javy sticks his tongue out after her. “Have fun, you two, and Javy if you do anything stupid, I’m calling your mom!” She calls and you watch Javy blanche slightly at her words before he turns back to you. You watch the worry slide from his face as he looks at you.

“I know I’ve already seen you in the dress, but you look beautiful, Meep.” Your cheeks heat at his compliment. He offers you his hand and you take it without a second thought, letting him lead you down to the parking lot. When you reach his car you frown in confusion as he opens the passenger door of the Land Rover.

“Where’s your car?” You ask as he helps you into the passenger seat. Javy looks like a deer caught in the headlights as he answers.

“I, uh, thought we could just go out tonight. Just us, no press or anything.” You feel your cheeks heat to match the way his have to be.

“Oh,” you whisper.

“If that’s okay with you, I mean,” he stammers awkwardly. You consider his words. He’s giving you an out if you want it. This isn’t a part of the contract, and you both know that. And yet you don’t want to get out of the car.

“Yeah, that’s okay with me, Javy.” You try not to focus on the way relief transforms his face as he grins at you before closing the door and jogging around to the driver’s side.

***

Your eyes are wide as Javy hands his keys to the valet in front of a gallery that you recognize the name of. You’ve never visited but the artist’s name emblazoned on the banners outside makes you slightly dizzy. Javy offers you his arm and you take it before turning to question him. “Javy, what are we doing here?” You whisper urgently as he leads you inside and towards a table where a woman with a clipboard is seated. He ignores your question to address the woman.

“Machado, party of two.” He says, flashing a polite smile at the woman and she blinks at him in surprise before she checks the list on her clipboard and gives him a saccharine smile as she hands him a pair of paddles that catch your attention as Javy pulls you closer and you look up at him, surprised before you catch the predatory gleam in the woman’s eyes and the way Javy’s gone rigid against you. You curl against him, silently reassuring him with a squeeze of his arm. You feel him relax at your touch and then he turns away from her.

You reach for his hand, fingers brushing as you take the paddles from his hand, examining the numbers on them as Javy silently leads you to a pair of double doors and into a big room. There are tables around the room and a stage at the front with a podium. He leads you to a table that’s currently empty as people are still arriving. When you sit he finally turns to you, and you see exhausted frustration in his eyes and you reach out, placing a green-painted fingertip against his lips. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” you whisper and his shoulders relax. You watch his lips pucker slightly in what could be construed as a kiss to your finger. You withdraw it and reach for his hand, squeezing it in yours. “Don’t let her ruin our night,” you remind him and he nods. In an attempt to take his mind off it, you gesture to the room. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here?” You ask.

He surprises you by leaning his forehead against the side of your head as you glance around the room. “Come on smart girl, you tell me,” he says and you hope he can’t hear the way your heartbeat is in your ears. You reach for the paddles he’s set on the table, turning one in your hand thoughtfully.

“An auction?” You ask, cursing the way your voice shakes in nervous excitement. He nods against your head before he straightens.

“Attagirl, I thought it might be something you’d be interested in,” he explains and your heart flutters in response. “Have you ever been to an art auction, before?” He asks and you shake your head.

“I can barely afford to make my own art let alone buy anyone else’s,” you admit before you can stop yourself and you cringe in embarrassment.

“Well that’s what I’m here for,” he watches your eyes widen in surprise and your mouth open to argue but he shakes his head. “My treat, if you see something you love, let me know. Plus, I need some pieces for my apartment, and I want to get something for my mom. I don’t really have a great eye for this kind of thing, so I figured I’d ask a professional,” he tips his head in your direction and you feel your cheeks warm. “You’ve seen my place, let me know if you see something that’ll look good there.” You nod, dizzy at the prospect of Javy valuing your opinion enough to want it.

“Okay,” you relent and the grin Javy turns on you may be worth more than all the art that’s going to be sold tonight.

***

“Javy,” you hiss as he raises his paddle, brow furrowed as he glares at a little old lady whose paddle is also up. The painting currently up for auction is a gorgeous modern impressionistic take on a rainy night in the French Quarter and the moment Javy had set his eyes on it, you’d seen the adoration and nostalgia in his eyes. It’s gorgeous and you think it’ll make the perfect centerpiece for his living room and you told him as much, but things have quickly spiraled out of hand.

“$30,000” the old lady exclaims indignantly and you feel sick to your stomach.

“$35,000” Javy retorts, and your eyes threaten to bug out of your face.

“$38,000” the old lady aims a sharp glare back at you and Javy.

“$50,000” Javy’s voice is almost lazy and you gape at him as he shrugs and smirks at the old lady who’s gone white as a sheet.

“$50,000 from the young man in the back. $50,000, going once,” The auctioneer calls, looking impressed. Javy arches a challenging eyebrow at the old lady who’s gaping at him. “$50,000, going twice,” Javy gives the old lady a nonchalant shrug. “Sold to the young man in the back for $50,000.” He finally turns to you and you’re still gaping at him.

“$50,000?!” You squeak at him and he shrugs.

“You said, and I quote, ‘It’s beautiful, and it would be like having a piece of home in your apartment and it would make the perfect centerpiece for the living room,’ and I remember telling you I trust your judgment.” You shake your head at him in disbelief.

“Not for $50,000!” You hiss and he rolls his eyes.

“I thought you believed in supporting artists,” he says, arching an eyebrow at you and you throw up your hands in exasperation. He leans in then, whispering so only you can hear. “You know if you let me see yours, I’d bet it’s worth a lot more than $50,000,” you roll your eyes even as heat creeps up your cheeks. Your art isn’t worth that much. You’re not so self-deprecating that you don’t think your art is good. It is, but it’s definitely not worth anything financially, especially since that’s not why you make it in the first place. Your art is a creative outlet, a way for you to process emotions that are too big for yourself, the words you can't bring yourself to say, a way for you to scream without saying a word.

You’re saved from retorting by the reveal of the next painting and your breath catches as the assistant steps away from the painting he’s just placed on the display easel. It’s a simple landscape at first glance, but the colors are what take your breath away. It’s a sunset over the bay, the cliffs beautifully silhouetted in shadows and you’re reminded of the view from Javy’s car on the way here tonight as the sun progressively sunk to the horizon. The flurry of oranges, purples, pinks, and blues, feels so perfect that you almost wish you’d painted it yourself. You almost don’t hear the auctioneer as he confirms the first bid until your ears catch the end of it. “...from the young man in the back,” you turn to Javy, lips parting in surprise as you catch him looking at you a fond smile on his face that he quickly schools.

“Javy,” your voice is a whisper but he just shakes his head gently as he turns back to the auction and counteroffers as bids come in from across the room. You have to excuse yourself, looking for the bathroom as the tears rise unbidden to your eyes. You dab carefully at your eyes as you stand in front of the mirror and try not to think about how Javy is currently spending thousands of dollars on you. You start with surprise as the door opens behind you and the little old lady from earlier walks in. You brace yourself for her anger but instead, she chuckles when she spots you before giving you a fond smile.

“Young love,” she remarks to no one in particular before she addresses you. “You’re a lucky lady, you know that? He reminds me of my Nathan,” she says with a bittersweet smile that you return as you nod. “Have a good evening,” she says simply before walking past you to a stall. You resist the urge to splash some water on your burning cheeks, leaving the bathroom before she finishes, hurrying to get back to Javy. As you approach the table, you spot a woman standing next to Javy whom you quickly recognize as the lady from earlier in the night. You frown as you approach and then you catch Javy’s voice. “I told you already, I have a girlfriend, so I’d appreciate it if you left us alone.” You can hear that he’s gritting the words out through his teeth and you feel anger wash through you. The lady doesn’t seem deterred by his words and you approach, hands shaking equally from nerves and rage. You watch as she places a possessive hand on Javy’s arm.

“I believe he asked you to leave him alone.” The harshness in your voice surprises you and you watch Javy and the lady turn towards the sound of your voice as you approach. “No means no.” You say firmly as you reach out and forcibly remove her hand from Javy’s arm. “Now please leave before I have someone come make you.” You don’t believe your own threat but she seems to as he eyes widen and then she turns and heads back the way she came as you glare after her. Once you watch her exit the room, you turn back to Javy, brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?”

***

Javy stares up at you like you’re an avenging angel, your gentle fingers replacing that woman’s claws on his arm. He shifts so the tablecloth hopefully hides the beginning of what he’s sure is going to be a very painful case of blue balls. He realizes you’re still looking down at him, worry swirling in your eyes and he almost pulls you into his arms then and there. His fingers itch to bury themselves in your hair and he wants to climb inside your skeleton to get as close to you as physically possible. Instead, he simply breathes the words rattling around inside his skull, “Thank you.” Your eyes soften and he can’t stop the way his eyes flit down to your perfect plump lips.

“That’s what friends do, right?” You say with a soft smile and your words are a proverbial bucket of ice water that’s been dumped over his head. Friends, right, friends. Javy doesn’t know much but he knows he’s never wanted to tear the dress off of one of his friends. He also knows he wouldn’t have just spent ten grand on a painting for a friend, but he also knows he needs to let you set the pace here. It’s the best advice he’s ever been given as much as he hates that it came from Bradley Bradshaw. As you sit back down next to him and turn your attention back to the auction he thinks back to a week ago.

***

“I just don’t want to fuck this up,” he admits, squirming in the chair he’s currently sitting in. Around him, curled up on the couch and sprawled on the floor are Bugs, Zam, Dragon, Nat, and Josie. Josie’s been glaring daggers at him since she arrived and honestly, he’s surprised that she showed up, but he has a feeling it has more to do with girl code than any particular desire to help him.

Zam regards him thoughtfully from where she’s seated on the couch, hugging a fluffy pillow that looks like a new addition. “Well that’s the first step, I think. You know what you want, and you know you don’t want to hurt her anymore,”

“Though why you hurt her in the first place is still a mystery,” Josie remarks from her spot next to Zam.

“That’s not why we’re here,” Bugs reminds her while giving Javy a soft look that tells him he needs to have a chat with his best friend about secretkeeping. “We’re trying to find a way to move forward, not back. Zam’s right, acknowledging the problem is the first step in making any progress toward a solution.

“What the fuck?” Javy’s stomach drops as everyone’s eyes follow his to where Bradley Bradshaw is standing at the entrance to the living room.

“Bear! You’re home!” Zam chirps happily, ignoring the irritation blossoming on her boyfriend’s face. It softens slightly at her greeting as he answers,

“Hey Honey,” before he turns back to the the scene taking place in the living room, roving over the girls’ faces before coming to a stop on Javy. “What the fuck is he doing here?” His frown deepens.

“Javy’s acknowledged that he’s in deep shit, and has called upon the sage knowledge of the Dogfighters’ Council of Ladies.” Bradley’s brow doesn’t budge.

“That still doesn’t explain why he’s HERE.” He points out and Zam rolls her eyes.

“Well we wanted to meet somewhere where all the ladies are,” she points out, waving a hand towards a small table next to where Bradley’s standing. Javy had cloaked it when he first arrived. On it are two picture frames, one of a couple that must be Bradley’s parents and the other of a woman who looks like an older version of Zam. There are also two vases, filled with daisies and irises respectively. The fight surprisingly goes out of Bradley as he follows Zam’s hand.

“Fine, am I ordering pizza?” He asks, heading for the kitchen, and Zam brightens.

“Yes, please!” He shakes his head but Javy can tell it's an endeared exasperation. “Okay now, back to business, ladies, what do we think Javy should do?”

“Leave her the fuck alone, that’s what,” Bradley calls from the kitchen where he’s tapping away at his phone.

“And why is that?” Zam turns to face him, glaring at him over the back of the couch.

“Are you kidding? She’s too good for him. She deserves better.” Bradley says without looking up and Javy hates the way his stomach tightens because he knows Bradley’s right.

“That’s rich coming from you, Bradshaw,” Dragon remarks and Bradley looks up, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Mr. Grumpy, ‘I emote with my fists,’ Mr. ‘I punched my girlfriend before the first date’ who’s dating someone that’s absolutely out of his league wants to talk about ‘too good’ and ‘deserves better?’” She arches an accusatory eyebrow right back at Bradley and in that moment Javy’s reminded of who her dad is. Splotches of heat climb up Bradley’s neck and he looks chagrinned. “You want to participate, maybe you should be the one giving Javy some advice.” Bradley puts down his phone and leans against the kitchen counter, looking at Dragon for a long moment before turning to Zam and Javy watches him watch her, fondness mixed with anxiety in his eyes.

Finally, he turns to Javy, almost against his will. “Fine, you want to get her back? First, apologize, and really mean it. If you don’t, don’t even bother. And if she accepts your apology? Take things at her pace, and give her control. She’s a nervous little thing, so let her take the lead. Only go as far as she lets you. Relationships are built on trust and right now you’re fresh out. You won’t get anywhere without it so you have to build it. Show her she can trust you. That’s it. The rest will take care of itself.” He shrugs before he picks his phone up again and continues ordering the pizza.

“Damn,” Josie speaks up. “I hate that he’s right.” She turns to Javy. “But I’ve been married to a hockey player for ten years and honestly that’s it. It all comes down to trust and respect. If you can earn that, you have a chance.” She thinks for a long moment, “Well that and she has to be attracted to you.”

“Is she?” Javy asks before he can stop himself. Josie snorts in response and it’s Nat that speaks up.

“Yup, definitely.” She pops the p and Javy’s head jerks to look at his friend. “That’s all I’m giving you, Javy, so don’t you dare come sniffing around for more. We hung out when she came to watch practice and she definitely likes you,” Javy tries to ignore the way his stomach flip-flops at the reveal of this new information.

“That poor girl,” Bradley mutters from the kitchen. “Alright, Machado, you got your advice, now get out of my apartment.” He jerks a thumb towards the hallway.

“But Bradley, what about the pizza?” Zam pouts at him.

“It’s ordered, but it’s Council-only, he’s not staying,” Bradley says, crossing his arms across his chest, leaving little room for argument. Dragon does anyway.

“You’re not on the Council,” she points out from where she’s sprawled out on the floor.

“I live here and I paid.” Bradley shoots back.

“I’ll pay half,” Javy offers and Bradley’s eyes narrow as they come back to him. “Or I could pay it all,” he amends and Bradley considers the offer.

“Fine, but the moment the food’s done, you get out.” He states firmly and Zam cheers as Javy nods and pulls out his wallet.

***

Javy smiles to himself at the memory and the fact that Bradley had given him the money back on his way out with strict instructions to buy you some flowers with it. He’s doing his best, even if it’s not great. You seemed to like the flowers at least. But as he looks down to where you’re holding his hand, he wonders if maybe he’s not doing so bad after all.

There’s no rush to open your eyes. The ache and throb, and painful dryness of your lips brings you no respite from the way things had been before you had fallen asleep. Blacked out. Whatever you want to call it— it hadn’t helped. 

Your nose wrinkles at something offensive. Sterile and sharp smelling. Wrinkling it comes with a crunch, and sharp pain. There’s a dry feeling in your nostrils where old blood still sits. 

The smell is chemical, antiseptic. It’s so strong smelling through all of that blood and pain that it forces your eyes open. That’s worse. That hurts more. Fluorescents above you. You’re left with no choice but to squeeze them shut again— and the sudden realization that you’re not where you were before, at all.

There’s no hard, painful metal chair holding your weight. The burden of being held now falls to something much softer, so soft that it feels like you’re sinking into it like sand. It doesn’t hurt much less. 

Your legs hurt, a prickling static feeling. Your ass hurts from however long you were sitting there like that. Your back hurts, a numb and stiff feeling. You attempt to turn your head and your neck reminds you suddenly not to overlook it— a gasp tears from your mouth and makes your lungs burn almost as much as your bruised throat.

Two voices say your name at once. A chair scrapes across the ground, two sets of shoes hit the floor. People are coming. The gasp, despite your burning throat’s protests, becomes a choked whimper. 

“Don’t— Don’t touch her,” Allen. You’re dreaming again, just like you had been when you heard Jake’s voice. “Maybe we should get the doctor.” 

You try once again. The bright, blinding white stuns your sore, unadjusted eyes. You squint through it, determined as ever. Allen’s weathered face steadies and becomes more clear. His mouth hangs open, watching your bruised face start to move with recognition.

“Stay still, sweetheart, don’t move.” He’s speaking to you. He lifts his hand and reaches. His fingers extend towards you and your skin comes alive, buzzing with electricity like you’re being shocked as you tear back from his extended palm.

He winces as you cough out a choked cry, doubling over in pain from the sudden movement. 

“Doctor Owens?— Doctor Owens!” Your mother. Her voice is further away, growing in urgency. She’s barely recovered herself. She shouldn’t have come.

The monitor beside your bed beeps wildly as your heart rate kicks into another spike, and footfall echoes in the hall as people rush for your room. So many shoes hitting the ground at once that you can’t place how many of them there could possibly be.

“Don’t.” It comes out choked and horse, but loud. “Don’t touch me. Allen. Don’t— I don’t want—“

“Calm down, it’s alright,” He tries, he really tries. The footfall grows closer and you thrash as Allen’s fingers graze the curve of your shoulder. You’re just hurting yourself more. “Stop. Try to stay still, alright? — You’re — Stop. Stop!”

There’s nothing peaceful about the way you’re sent back to sleep, thrashing and crying and screaming as your IV is adjusted and filled. With everything that you’ve been through, they had warned your loved ones that recovery was going to be far from linear.

Over the course of the next two days, you wake three more times and are put back to sleep in a similar fashion. With your stitches and recovering internal injuries, they need you to be still. For now, every time you have opened your eyes has been another fight that your body just isn’t ready to take.

The fourth time comes easier than the rest. Your broken nose has started to heal by now. Under the hospital gown, your ribs are black and blue. Your lungs have stopped making that rattling sound when you inhale deeply now. Still, everything hurts.

The fluorescent lights are off. The curtains are open, the television is on. You blink heavily, your chest aches as you breathe in. 

Allen looks up at the soft rattle of your first breath in. His brows furrowed slightly, green eyes widening as he watches your eyelids blink heavily. 

“Hey…” He whispers cautiously, like he’s afraid to spook you. Your gaze settles on him, the fuzziness of the picture dissipating with each heavy blink. His face is sullen, tired. “Hey, sweetheart. It’s just me. It’s just us, you’re okay.”

Just us. The idea is more comforting than anything you’ve heard in a long time. It’s not really just the two of you, but Allen keeps that to himself. You don’t need to know the amount of security posted around this building.

You want to answer him, but your throat is dry and hoarse when you try to speak. Allen sits forwards, grabbing the underside of the chair with his good hand and pulling it closer.

“It’s alright.” His voice voice croaks. It’s not alright, but you will be. He hopes you’ll understand, when it’s time for you to learn how it all went down. 

Stubble coats his jaw and his hair is longer than he usually ever lets it grow, salt and pepper all the way through. Your fingers twitch and your arm aches as you force it slowly upward, reaching for him. Allen grazes the tips of his fingers over yours. He slides his hand slowly into your palm, and watches your eyes fill with sudden tears.

“What… happened?” You whimper.

“I’ll tell you everything once you’re feeling a little better,” He whispers, thinking back to the strict orders from your mother not to upset you. He lowers his mouth just slightly and presses his lips to your knuckles, squeezing your hand tight. “You scared the shit out of me for a second, there.”

A burning sensation behind your eyes makes you wrinkle your nose, your bottom lip trembling as your chest flares with heat. There’s real fear in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be here, he’s supposed to be retired — there’s no money in this for him.

And yet, he’s the only person at your bedside.

He’s holding your hand, and holding your gaze firmly. Letting you think it’s all okay. Your throat hurts as you swallow softly. 

There’s a news broadcast on the television to Allen’s right. The skyline buzzes, alight behind him. It plays on as he opens his mouth to speak again, he seems to have forgotten that it’s playing.

“Following the events of Thursday evening, we have received word that due to complications, a second surgery would be necessary — which is underway as we speak,” The reporter explains solemnly. She and her co-anchor are both wearing black. “The nation’s thoughts are with you, Mr. President.”

You blink at the fuzzy television screen. The picture they used of your father is from your kindergarten graduation. He’s younger there, his hair dark rather than they grey it has been growing into more recently — he’s got an arm around you, and he’s grinning proudly.

“Shit.” Allen breathes out, sitting up suddenly straight.

 The news broadcast is gone with an abrupt beat. Allen drops the remote down onto the side and scrubs a hand along his salt-and-pepper stubbled jaw, studying the ground.

Your lips flatten into a firm line, your muscles screaming as you lift your head from the pillow. 

Your gaze hardens. “Is he alive?”

Allen swallows. He gives you a small, serious nod. “Yeah. He’s upstairs, in surgery.”

The tone of his voice makes your chest ache. Serious in a way Allen rarely is.

Creeping into his office in your pyjamas. Scolding him for all the times he missed you teddy-bear tea parties. Sitting with him on the swing set in the backyard of the first house you remember. All the times you had told him you hated him as a teenager. How strongly you had meant it the last time.

Your gaze flickers back to the blank television screen, losing yourself in its sudden darkness. 

“How?” You croak out.

Allen hesitates. He presses his lips together and shakes his head softly. “I’ll explain everything when you’re feeling better.”

You turn your head, blinking heavily as you look around the sprawling hospital room. Your parents really spared no expense. Well, your mom— you guess. 

“Jake?” You ask.

“He’s here,” Allen nods solemnly. “He’s sleeping.”

And you can’t see him. It wouldn’t be good for you to see him, not until you’re feeling better.

“Is he—?”

“He’s going to be fine,” Allen sounds sure, and not in a sugar-coated way. He sounds more positive than he had about your father. “You should rest. He comes to see you in the mornings.”

Being on a ward himself, Jake’s been getting on the nurses’ nerves around here, trying to break the rules so he can wander out and see you for as long as possible. His shoulder is just about fine now, he can almost roll it back the way he used to. The doctor says an injury like his doesn’t heal that fast, but Jake has always been ahead of the curve.

He has spread his time between your room on the fourteenth floor, and where the President has been falling in and out of being classed as critical on the fifteenth with little regard for the fact he’s recovering from a surgery on his shoulder himself. With you breathing, he couldn’t care less about being hit himself.

If the bullet hadn’t caught his shoulder, it would have torn through your father’s lungs and killed him right then and there.

You shoot a quick glance toward the darkened hallway. Allen sighs.

“No.”

“I want to know what happened.” You don’t. Not really. You want to pull these foreign covers up over your head and hide and cry your eyes out, scream this whole place down. There’s no easy way to say it, and really, no one knows how you’ll handle it.

You close your eyes for a moment and wait. 

Somehow, you’re safe — you’ll be okay. Jake’s okay. Your father won’t make it through the week. You don’t remember a thing. None of it makes sense.

Jake remembers every detail. He sits awake too, not in his own room but in the hallway of the twelfth floor — as close as he can get to the operating room without being put on his ass by a serviceman. 

In the mornings that he’s able to visit you, Jake likes to talk to you. You’ve been out of the woods for a while now, everyone knows that it’s just a waiting game until you’re stable enough to be awake. Really awake. On the Monday just passed, you had opened your eyes for a few seconds and just blinked at him.

Brows drawn together all stern, your lips pursed, your eyelashes fluttering. He never thought he would be so grateful to see you frowning at him.

He has heard about the past few days. The panic and stress. He has made a strong case for himself to be allowed to be there, but the people who make the calls won’t budge. It’s just not the right time. 

That’s not true. It’s his punishment. 

It’s his punishment, for not being the one in that operating room with his chest cracked open and twelve surgeons fighting to keep his heart beating.

Having spent most of his adult life working in environments where he was the expendable one, Jake had heard a lot of stories. He had heard, most frequently, that time always slows down in the moments that matter.

Not that day. It had been a blur. He had walked into that exchange with certainty; you would be leaving there with him. 

To an extent, he had been expecting Elias to be bluffing. No man on the planet couldn’t be bought — Jake had been expecting a bidding war, and he knew your father had the right amount of money to make this go away.

It hadn’t been that at all.

His stomach twists when he thinks about how they had paraded you before them. The look on Matthew’s face as he studied the dried blood in your hair, and the fresh blood trickling from your temple.

They had hurt you to prove a point. Almost killed you, to send a message. It was too far gone to be about the money.

Jake knows that he isn’t responsible for this, he isn’t the one that put your father in this situation. He’s the only reason that those surgeons are even trying right now — if he hadn’t been there, you’d both be dead. 

He’ll never not be there again.

Jake sits there through the surgery. On the floor with his elbows on his knees, his head rested back against the wall, he sits there for six hours. It should have taken six hours.

At a little after seven, Jake is startled awake by an orderly rushing past him with a rattling metal cart. He checks his watch, which is now settled on the wrong wrist due to his sling, and clumsily pushes himself up from the ground.

“Hey, buddy,” Jake strains, sighing at the ache through his side and clearing his throat as he finds his footing. “How’s he looking?”

The twenty-something year old in scrubs whips around to look at Jake, his eyes wide with heavy blue marks under them. He looks like he’s been up even longer than Jake has.

“You’re the bodyguard.” The kid seems to realize, blinking as his rattling cart comes to a stop. He glances back in the direction of the theater, then at Jake. “Uh… I don’t know. It’s going to be a while before they can say, I guess.”

A muscle in Jake’s jaw ticks. At seven, Jake walks to your hospital room and usually starts to bug whoever is in charge of watching you until they let him visit early.

He glances towards the operating room, and then back at the orderly. This could take hours, something urgent could happen in the next few minutes. He hesitates.

Then, his phone buzzes in the pocket of his sweats. Jake takes it from his pocket and glances quickly down at the screen, with every intention of answering the kid in front of him.

She’s awake. Asking for you too. 

And Jake’s mind is made up. He can’t wait a second longer. His heart feels like it’s in his mouth by the time he’s pushing open the door to your hospital room.

He has seen the bruises fade from blue to yellow, and the IV lines and monitors all around you every day for almost a week. It does nothing to prepare him for the sight of all of those things once you’re awake and staring at him.

“Honey…” His breath catches in his throat, his brows drawing together.

The comprehensive list of your injuries is still typed up at the foot of the bed. Jake could list them off by heart, by now. Fractured eye-socket. Broken ring and middle finger on your right hand. Soft tissue damage to your left foot. Extreme bruising to the abdomen. The fracture in your rib. Every single one of those god-damned bruises.

Your right eye had been swollen shut that first day. Now, it’s wide open. The bruise is yellowed and sore looking, your eyes filled with fear. 

“Jake.” Your voice cracks and your breathing hitches.

It doesn’t matter that Allen is standing right there, sitting back against the window ledge with his arms folded over his chest. Jake couldn’t care less that your mother is watching him like a hawk. 

She has been every single time he has visited.

The security guard steps out of the way as Jake charges forwards. He takes slow, long strides. He’s trying so hard to remember what you’ve been through, and remind himself to be slow with you, but every fibre of his being wants to pull you close and never let you go again.

He stops at the side of your bed and hesitates, just for a split-second. His eyes scan across your face, searching for doubt or fear. As he makes his decision, you make yours too.

 He leans forwards swiftly as you ball your not-injured hand into his shirt, his fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck and pulling you against him.

The room falls silent. Your nose fills with his smell, your cheek presses firmly into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. His thumb strokes at your skin.

For all you care, the other people in the room could have disappeared from the second that Jake touched you. He holds you close, silently. He doesn’t know how much you know yet, whether it’s all or nothing, and he doesn’t care. For now, you’re okay, and you’re with him.

It takes a moment before you notice that he’s only got one arm around you.

Jake watches as you pull back, searching for answers and landing on the blue sling resting around his shoulder, covering his right arm.

“I’m fine,” He assures you instantly, already shaking his head as his palm moves to cup your jaw. He holds your gaze, certain. “I’m fine. It’s superficial. We’re okay.”

Superficial. Allen bites his tongue, but can’t help but disagree. That bullet tore through ligament and bone, and Jake is lucky to be recovering so well. It was far from superficial— the surgery had taken all night. 

“I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks, weak sounding and trembling. You drop your head forwards to rest against his unbandaged shoulder. “This is all my fault. This is all my fault, you shouldn’t ever have even met—“

“Stop.” Jake whispers, turning his face towards yours and trying to coax you back to look at him. He closes his eyes, pressing his mouth to your temple. “It’s over now. I’m never going to let anything happen to you again. It’s over.” 

Your mother watches. There’s a cautious, nagging feeling that tugs at her that she really doesn’t know you at all. There isn’t much that feels familiar about watching you with him — she wouldn’t have a clue how to calm you the way that he does.

“I want to go home.” You whisper, balling your hands tighter into his t-shirt. If he didn’t know any better, he’d guess that you’re trying to pull him right into your hospital bed with you.

“Yeah, a couple more days, honey,” Jake nods his head. He’s been speaking with your doctor. Once they’re certain that you’re stable enough, you’re free to go. “We’ll get you back to the house.”

“No.” You rush out, so fast that it almost makes you hiccup. It’s then that your head turns, your eyes wide and searching as you look around the room. Just as quickly, before you’ve even met the gaze of Allen or your mother, you bury your face into the crook of his neck and squeeze your eyes shut. Just quiet enough for Jake to hear, you whimper softly. “I don’t want to go back there. I want to go with you.”

Jake feels your mother’s gaze burning into his back, and knows what she must be thinking. She’s about to lose her husband and she thinks that Jake’s going to take you too.

“With me?” He murmurs, stroking a hand over your hair. Your mother has been taking pride in maintaining it — she has cared for you in so many quiet ways recently. Jake will tell you all about it, another time.

“Could — maybe we could see your mom again?” It feels ridiculous to ask, and from the second that the words leave your mouth, you’re already worrying about the kind of danger you could be putting them in.

But for Jake, it makes his heart catch with sudden relief.

“Yeah,” He hums. “Yeah, we can do that.”

He perches on the edge of your bed, draping his good arm around your shoulders. Your mother watches as you curl against him, closing your eyes and finally unballing your fists.

The room falls quiet, and stays that way. 

Allen lets the two of you have the peace and quiet. Your mother, simply, has little to say. 

An hour later, a little after eight, there’s a commotion in the hallway. Jake watches the bustle between the security guards silently, a heavy feeling settling in his gut as he braces for what is coming. 

He feels you perk up at his side as their voices grow more hushed, trying to peek over him.

He turns his face towards your hair and kisses the top of your head softly, wrapping his arm tighter around you. “It’s alright.”

He pities the poor guy who opens the door to the room, forced to meet your mother’s gaze with a sullen expression. He clears his throat weakly, hands tucked behind his back. “Ma’am.”

Your mother isn’t a dumb woman. She doesn’t need it explained to her. The doctors had explained the risks, and explained that he might not make it. Her husband is dead.

This narrator is excited to see what matches are made this year.

But before the first ball of the season, I hope you all place your bets as to which ladies will find success and which will be left broken hearted.

All eyes this year, seem to be on the house of Lord and Lady Beaumont. At the ripe age of six-and-twenty, their daughter, Miss Y/N Beaumont, enters her fourth social season without a husband. With het older sister being the Dutchess of Miramar, and her older brother set to inherent the family title, one can only wonder why Miss Beaumont has yet to secure a match, and what her family plans to do if she fails again this season.

However, it seems there will be some excitement that many young ladies, and their mamas can look foward too.

After an extended period away in the Americas, this narrator is thrilled to report that the Viscount Bradley Bradshaw has returned to London in hopes to take a wife this season. The only question is, who will be the lucky lady that will catch his eye?

...........................................

"Isn't it wonderful to be back in London?" Your mother chirped from the carriage. "Yes, quite wonderful." You responded, not taking your eyes away from the passing landscape. You sighed.

You dreaded being back in London. You already knew that people would be whispering about you in hushed corners. Girls would giggle and cover their smirks as you walked by, a buzz about that fact that you were old, and still unwed.

It's not that you didn't want to marry. You just didn't want to make the wrong choice. You wanted someone who was kind and valued you as more than a body to carry a child. You wanted someone who liked your wit and charm and appreciated the many talents you had.

"Darling." Your mother called, snapping you out of your trance.

"Hmm?" You hummed back as you turned to face her and your father.

"I asked if you enjoyed your time in Miramar with your sister and the Duke?" Your mother repeated. "Yes, Mama, it was absolutely splendid. William, Micheal, and Violet have grown so much since you've seen them last." You beamed as you talked about your niece and nephews.

You had spent several months helping your sister tend to them while she looked for a governess. It had truly been a splendid time, and you wished you had been able to say forever. But, your parents insisted you come home.

"Wonderful." Your mother smiled before her expression turned more serious. "Y/N, there is something your father and I must discuss with you."

"What?" You asked her. "We know that you have had some difficulties securing a match. It is very noble for you to hold out for love, but sometimes, one must forego love and find a sensible match." Your mother began.

"What do you mean?" You say. "What I mean is—" she sighs. "Your sister is a Dutchess. Your brother will inherit the estate, and you— you will have nothing. And I know Eddie would never let you go without, but darling, your father and I want to know you will be taken care of once we are gone." She tells you.

"Eddie and Clarissa would make sure I'm taken care of. So would Marianne and George." You say.

"We know they would." Your father speaks up finally. "But it is not their job. That is the job of a husband. Which is why your mother and I have decided that if you do not secure a match by the end of the season, we will find one for you." He states.

"What?" You shriek. "An arranged marriage? I will not agree to it." You huff. "You don't have a choice. We love you, but we will not let you tarnish the family name by becoming a spinster!" Your father declares.

You open your mouth to respond, but he shoots you a look that lets you know his mind is made up and that this conversation is over. You sulk into your carriage seat and refuse to look at either of your parents for the remainder of the ride.

............

Your first few days back in London are a flurry of trips to the market, the jeweler, and the modiste. Your mother insists that a new wardrobe will help in your quest to sequester a husband. You're fitted with beautiful drapes of satin and silk and lace for what seems like hours until your mother deems you finished. She does allow you to pick the colors of your garments at least, and so, for the first ball of the season, you choose a deep shade of burgundy. You've always been fond of the color. Even though some would say it's melancholy, you think it's just right. The thought of a dress in that color gives you the tinest bit of hope as you prepare for the season.

..........

Viscount Bradley Bradshaw was not thrilled to be back in London. He would much rather be in the countryside, but he had ignored his estate for too long, and it was now to the point that he could no longer manage on his own. He needed a wife. Someone else to share the burden with.

He didn't need, nor really want, a love match. But he did want someone smart, sensible, kind, and willing to bear his heirs. He wanted someone he could have a conversation with, and that could, at the very least, be his friend.

He'd heard much about the ladies that were available this season, and there seemed to be several promising options. He just hoped he could find someone quickly, have a short courtship, an even shorter engagement, and be married before the meddling mamas sicked their daughters on him.

He ran his hands over his face in the back of his carriage. There were so many things he needed go do this week before the first ball of the season.

He needed to collect a few payments, pay the staffs wages, and head to the tailor. Many of his suits were now too tight in the shoulders. The months he'd spent traveling and made him broader and more muscular than he once was. He couldn't risk being on the dance floor with a potential wife and have his seams bust.

He glanced outside his carriage and saw the parade of ladies and their mothers walking around and gossiping.

"One season, Bradley, you can do this for one season." He whispered to himself before grabbing his journal and writing.

...............

The first ball at the home of Lord and Lady Whittmore came faster than you imagined. It seemed you'd just unpacked your trunk when your ladies' maids came in to help you dress and prepare for the evening.

They tied your corsets and stays, fastened each tiny button, styled your hair into an elegant half up, half down hairstyle, and helped you adorn yourself with a few simple jewels that your mother insisted on.

Standing back from your mirror, you looked every bit the part of an eligible bachelorette. Your deep red dress accentuated your features. The sparkling stones sewn onto it caught the light beautifully.

Your silk gloves elongated your arms, and the garnet necklace and earrings you wore matched your dress perfectly.

Your father smiled warmly, and your mother gasped when you descended the stairs to the foyer where they were waiting for you along with your brother and his wife.

"Y/N! You look most marvelous. Surely you will be the crown jewel of the ball!" Your sister-in-law, Clarissa, gushed as she hugged you.

"Thank you, Clarissa." You smiled at her warmly before your mother ushered everyone out to the carriages. You rode with Eddie and Clarissa to the Whittmore estate, thankful to have a reprieve from your parents talking your ear off about how important it was for you to find a match, and this ball would be your best chance.

The Whittmore estate was lovely when you arrived. Candles lit up the great rooms, lively string music played. There was delicious food and drinks at every corner. Lady Whittmore handed you your dance card, which you quickly secured around your wrist.

Your brother insisted on taking you on a turn about the room, which meant you stopped to talk to several noblemen and had several ask to place their name on your card.

You can't remember half of those you danced with. Just that they would step on your feet or only talk about themselves. Anytime they asked you a question, it was about how many children you wanted and if you knew how to run a house. They didn't care that you were well read, knew three languages, or that you could play the harp. Heirs, and lots of them. That's all they cared about.

After a quatrain with some Lord old enough to be your father, you stepped away from the dance floor in hopes of taking a break and catching your breath. You grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to find a quiet place to sit and have a moment to yourself. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. A large body collided with yours, causing you to trip and spill your drink, and there's all over yourself.

"Oh my goodness! This dress is new!" You shrieked as you frantically tried to dry it with your hankerchief.

"My apologies, Miss. I wasn't watching where I was going." The person who crashed into you said.

"Of course you weren't. You Lords waltz around here with your noses so high in the air that you forget to look down and pay attention." You shot back at them.

There was a moment of silence where you realized that you probably shouldn't have said that. Especially if you wanted to find a husband.

"I'm sor—" you began as you looked up. But once you saw who it was, your words died in your throat.

"Bradley Bradshaw?" You breathed not, not quite believing it was him standing before you. "Ducky? Ducky Beaumont? Is that you?" He asked with a smile.

"No one calls me Ducky anymore, not even Edmond." You say. "Well then, what do they call you?" Bradley asked you.

"Mine name, or Miss Beaumont." You reply. "Miss Beaumont?" Bradley asks you.

"Yes. I am still Miss Beaumont, even though this is my fourth season." You sigh. "Well— I have a had time believing that you of all people struggle with finding a match, Ducky." Bradley smiles at you.

You're just about to correct him again when he suddenly grabs your hand and sweeps you out onto the floor for a waltz. "What was that all about, Lord Bradshaw?" You ask him using his formal title.

"Well, Ducky. There is a young lady who has been pestering me all evening, and I needed to get away from her." Bradley said as he directed your attention to a girl who looked rather annoyed with you.

"Ah, I see." You chuckle. "So, Ducky, tell me, how have you gone four seasons without a husband?" Bradley asks you as the two of you dance.

"It is Miss Beaumont, Lord Bradshaw. We are no longer children, and I am no longer chasing you and my brother around the countryside while our mothers play cards." You say to him. "But, I have simply not been able to find someone who appreciates me and is kind. Everyone only cares about how many children I want and what my dowery is. Not once today have I been asked if I read or if I know another language or if I can play an instrument!" You huff. Bradley chuckles.

"Well, do you read?" He asks you before giving you a spin. "Yes, I read all kinds of books." You reply. "Do you know any other languages?" He asks with a chuckle. "I know three! I speak Spanish, French, and Italian!" You exclaim. "And what about musical instruments? Can you play any?" He smiles at you. "I am most accomplished with the harp." You smile back at him.

"Well, you are very well rounded, Miss Beaumont, certainly interesting." Bradley tells you.

"And you are the only person in this room who knows that. Which is probably why I am on my way to be an old maid at the age of six-and-twenty." You sigh.

"That is not old. I am not much older than that myself. I went to school with your brother, and we are both barely two-and-thirty." Bradley says as the song ends.

"Well, I appreciate the thought. Thank you for the dance, Lord Bradshaw." You say as you curtsey to him.

"No, thank you, Ducky." He smiles and winks at you before bowing and walking away.

You had butterflies in your belly for the rest of the evening. If you were being truthful with yourself, you'd always had feelings for Bradley. Ever since you were a girl, you were captivated by your brother's best friend, always chasing the two of them around your estate, which earned you the nickname he so foundly called you.

You can remember the exact moment you realized your feelings for Bradley weren't platonic. It was when you were fourteen, and he and your brother had come home from their second year at university. The tall, lanky boy you'd spent summers with had filled out into a broad, brawny man.

And even though he was older, Bradley was always kind to you. Which is why it crushed you that he went away the same year you made your debut. You'd always hoped that maybe—just maybe—he would court you.

Maybe that's why you'd never tried too hard to find a suitor because deep down, you were holding out for Bradley. And now, that he's back, you hope that this might be the year that you find a husband.

..............

The next day, you were giddy as calling hours approached. You prayed that if anyone came, it would be Bradley.

When a valet came and said there was a caller for you, you practically leaped from your seat on the sofa, only to be met with disappointment that it was Lord Artenson. He was followed by Lord Phillips, Lord Martin, and Lord Herrington, who was determined to have you as his third wife.

You sighed and resigned yourself to reading a book once Lord Herrington finally left. Calling hours were almost over, and you were silently disappointed that Bradley had not come. But really, it was foolish of you to think that he would. You were his best friend's little sister, practically his own little sister. You were his Ducky, and he would never think of you as anything more.

You were just about to head upstairs to your room and your parents to their own when a valet came in the drawing room.

"Excuse me Lord and Lady Beaumont, it seems there is another visitor here for Miss Beaumont." He spoke.

"Really?" Your father asked. "Who is it?"

"The Viscount Bradshaw."

You didn’t believe in monsters. You hadn’t since you were little, but now you wondered if monsters weren’t the creatures that roamed the nights, preying on children and unsuspecting folks as they traversed the shadows. Perhaps they were the unsuspecting victims of circumstance, the victims of choices made and consequences dealt with no care for the intentions behind them.

Did any one person ever intend to become a monster? To become the thing that parents warned their children about? Were they born or were they made? Was a monster capable of being a good person? Or did the title bar one from redemption? Were they even capable of love?

Captain Jake Seresin was a good man, of this you were sure and certain. You saw the way he treated the men of his crew with respect and fairness no matter how far down the totem pole they were. You saw how he smiled at the children in the different port town, green eyes twinkling as he waved at the babies and ruffled the hair of the small children that greeted him. You saw the way he closed his eyes in the setting sun, the sea breeze ruffling his golden locks, the smile that lay in a shadow on his lips as he savored the moment.

You watched him in those moments, wondering how anyone could think him a monster. You were no stranger to his harder moments or his rougher actions, but you supposed you had your fair share of the same. Despite seeing the uglier side of him, if you could even call it that, you still found yourself drawn to the rugged captain all the same. Your eyes would wander toward him before you even had the chance to realize what you were doing, green eyes meeting yours and snapping you out of your reverie as heat would rise to your cheeks. It was a wonder the roof of your cabin had no holes in it from the way you lay awake at night, staring daggers into the worn wood as your mind raced with thoughts of the captain, of what would happen should you either fail or succeed in having the curse lifted.

It had been two weeks since the events on the isle, and the captain had yet to lay a finger on you, as promised. On more than one occasion you had waited with bated breath as he would reach for you, only to huff quietly in disappointment as he would stop and let his fingers drop back to his sides. You found you missed his touch, the constant reassurance it brought to you that you were safe under the watchful eyes of your captain.

Truly, you found that you missed having him around you so constantly. You missed the late night filled with quiet laughter and the shared tales of growing up in your different parts of the world. The way his fingers would play with the ends of your hair or smooth over your cheeks as he studied you while you told your stories. Or the way his emerald eyes would light up with joy as he recounted a story of he and Javy back in the days before he took command of the Hangman. You missed him.

Of course, the captain was sure to keep up with your sword lessons, and you were proud to say that his hits were growing fewer and farther in between. You had yet to best him, but you caught the flashes of pride that danced in his eyes every time you came close.

You once again found yourself perched in a chair inside a busy tavern, the other ladies bustling around the room with drinks and ample cleavage on display for wandering eyes of men. You saw several members of your own crew casting longing glances at the ladies, and you suspected several of the newer members would try their hands at sating the undeterrable desire that coursed their veins.

You let out a long, labored sigh as you rested your chin on your fist, eyes scanning the room with disinterest as the men spoke around you. Natasha sat across the room, a gaggle of men surrounding her as she regaled them with titillating tales of her adventures and coy flirtations disguised as teasing japes. You wondered if you could ever find yourself feeling so carefree, envying her ability to forget the current circumstances as the deadline to end the curse drew nearer with each passing day.

The tension from your group of friends was palpable as they watched the blond captain oversee the signing of the poor, new souls sign away their lives to one of servitude. Javy stood at his side, arms crossed with a stoic expression on his face, but the way he would glance over towards Natasha just a few tables over was not lost to your watchful eye.

A pretty red head sauntered over towards where your captain sat, a lascivious smile curled on her painted lips as her eyes wandered over Jake’s form draped across the wooden chair. A manicured hand came up to rest on his shoulder, dipping down towards the open V of his cotton shirt as she leaned down to whisper something in his ear. His hand reached up to hers, taking it, and you felt the ugly twist of heat curl in your chest as your cheeks warmed. You stood abruptly, chair scraping against the stone floor as the others cast wary glances your way.

“I need some air,” you muttered, already moving towards the exit, shoving past the several large bodies, drunkenly swaying as they blocked your escape route. If the others called after you, you didn’t hear them over the noise of the tavern and the blood rushing in your ears. He would touch her, but not you? His touch you had to beg for, seeking it out yourself because he refused to touch you for some stupid sense of honor and valiance, and yet he gave it freely to the first woman who came in his sights.

The night air was cool on your skin as you finally managed to break through the crowd. You paused only for a brief moment before you pushed forward, determined to put some distance between yourself and the stifling air of merriment.

You had made it only a few yards before you heard your name ring out in the quiet streets, the familiar timbre causing your heart to clench in mixture of anguish and anger as your thoughts swirled inside your head. He had deprived you of his comfort for weeks, had kept you at bay and away from him for so long, and now he suddenly wanted you?

You ignored him as you sped up your pace, hearing the sound of his footsteps pick up as well. You rounded a corner, pushing yourself back against the entryway of one of the buildings and out of the dim light cast by the streetlamps. You waited with bated breath as the footsteps rounded the corner, a flash of blond jogging past your hiding place before coming to a slow stop once he realized you were nowhere in sight.

“Guppy?” He called, uncertainty laced in his voice. You stayed silent, still, as he glanced around the buildings lining the street. You shifted in the shadows, pressing yourself as far back as you could as you watched him. He let out a deep sigh, hunching over as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Guppy, please,” he said again, twisting as he inspected the shadows. “Can we talk?”

You didn’t want to talk, not with him. At least, not in that moment. No, you wanted him to feel as helpless as you had for two weeks, reaching out only to be ignored. You wouldn’t forgive him so easily.

You needed a moment to breathe, to think. You had been afforded so little time to yourself, constantly bombarded with tasks on the ship in between your sword lessons and chatter with your friends. You hadn’t allowed yourself a moment to process the events of the isle and the information you gathered after, and you found your frustrations and feelings from the past two weeks boiling to the surface.

Jake let out a curse under his breath as he paused in his turning. You watched as his teeth worried on his bottom lip, indecision clear on his face before stalking off in the opposite direction. You waited a few moments, making sure he was gone before slipping out from the shadows, scanning the street for signs of anyone. Seeing signs of no one, you looked back one last time in the direction the captain had disappeared in before turning towards the harbor.

You managed to make it back to the ship before the tears started leaking past your carefully constructed wall of feigned indifference. It was quiet, the entire crew having decided to try and find some sense of normalcy at the tavern, and you were thankful for that serendipitous turn of events as you padded across the deck towards the stairs to the galley.

The ship swayed in the tide, causing you to be somewhat unsteady on your feet as you stumbled towards the kitchen. The ale felt sour in your belly, and you were sure some food would help settle it before you retired for the evening to wallow in your feelings.

A part of you knew you were being unreasonable in how you were handling the situation, and as you scrounged up some bread, you huffed at your own unwillingness to address the issue.

You would never move past this rough spot unless you sat down to have a conversation with the captain. Two weeks had allowed the wounds to fester, and avoiding the situation would only make it worse.

You had just found the last of the cheese, making a mental note to pick some up at the market tomorrow before departure when the creak of one of the floorboards caused you to pause. Letting out a sigh, you turned around towards the entrance to the kitchen. It was the captain you had expected to see, so it surprised you to see one of the crew members bracing himself against the frame of the doorway, dark eyes fixed on where you stood. If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought him drunk or ill with the way his skin shone with sweat, the paleness of him showing in stark contrast to the shadows of the room. The bags under his eyes caused him to have a skeletal appearance, and the hair on the back of your neck stood at attention as the two of you stared at one another.

“Evening,” you offered, wincing at how small your voice sounded. “Can I help you?”

The man said nothing, thin lips turning downwards as he cocked his head to the side. He took a slow, heavy step forward, and your eyes immediately darted towards the knife that lay on the edge of the counter. It wouldn’t kill him or cause much harm by any means, but it might slow him down enough for you to escape should you need to.

“Are you hungry?” You asked him, inching slowly towards the knife so as not to cause suspicion. “I can make you something if you like.”

“You know we’re always hungry,” he sneered, looking at you with disdain. “Haven’t had a sated belly in months. Haven’t had a drink that’s not left me more parched than before either. And women…”

He paused, eyes raking over your still form, and your heart pounded in your chest. The night was still fairly early, and you would be surprised if anyone made their way back to the ship anytime soon.

“We all know that you’re the only source of relief on this ship,” he continued, eyes growing impossibly darker as he took another step towards you. “You’re always surrounded by that lot, though. None of us can get close to you. Tha’s why when I saw you leave, I knew I had to take my chance.”

You felt your fingers twitch as you glanced back over at the knife, taking a small step sideways as he took another haggard step forward.

“Chance at what?” You asked him, voice barely above a whisper, and you cursed yourself for how shaky it sounded. The man stopped, standing slightly straighter as his cold, black eyes fixated on you.

“Relief,” he uttered, the word barely passing his lips before he lunged for you. You were faster, barely, as you scrambled for the knife. You gripped the handle in your hand, whirling around just as the man’s body crashed into yours. You let out a grunt as you stumbled, nearly falling to the ground, but managing to catch yourself on the counter. Fury coursed through your veins as the man’s hot breath washed over your face, his eyes blazing but almost unseeing as he reached for you. You brought your hand up, slashing at his face with the knife.

He let out a howl of pain as he clutched his now bleeding eye, falling to his knees as the thick, red liquid oozed out between his fingers, and you took the moment to scramble away from him, hissing as your hip collided with the edge of the counter. Your eyes fixed on the dinner bell hanging just by the stairs of the galley. You glanced back for half a second to see the man staggering to his feet, hand still gripping his skull as he fixed a murderous glare on you. You sucked in a breath as you bolted from the kitchen, the bell growing closer and closer as you willed your feet to move faster.

Your fingers wrapped around the rope attached to the bell and you pulled frantically, the loud clanging of the metal echoing through the room and up the stairs onto the deck. You hoped that it was loud enough for someone to hear and investigate.

Your thoughts were cut short as a hand yanked you backwards by your hair, a hiss of pain leaving your lips as your hands clawed at the ones just out of reach behind you.

“You miserable, little cunt,” the man growled, slamming you into the wood of the entrance, “I coulda been nice to ya, but now? Now I’m going to make sure it hurts.”

Your cheek ached from the force of the impact, the rough wood scratching your skin and adding to the sensation as you struggled to break free of his hold.

“Stop your squirmin’,” he muttered, hand wrapped around both of your wrists as he gripped your shoulder with the other to pull you back away from the wall. You took that moment to bring your foot back as hard as possible, heel meeting something solid in the process. The man let out a grunt of pain before his hand moved from your shoulder to grip your chin, pulling it back at an awkward angle to look at you.

“Now listen here-”

You didn’t let him finish, instead opening your mouth and biting down as hard as you could onto his fingers. He let out a pained yell as your mouth flooded with the taste of iron. He snatched his hand back, his other letting go of your wrists. You took the opportunity to flee, feet thudding up the steps to the deck. You turned your head to glance back over your shoulder, but before you could get a gauge on how far away the man was, you ran into a solid wall of muscle.

You let out a grunt as you stumbled back, nearly falling down the stairs before an hand reached out to grab your hip and steady you. You reeled back, eyes locking onto brilliant green, and your body sagged in relief.

“Guppy?” Jake frowned, eyes scanning you head to toe. You were sure you looked a sight in that moment. The throbbing in your cheek was pounding, the skin there sticky with what you were sure was blood. Your wrists and shoulders ached from where the man had twisted them back.

At that moment, thundering footsteps sounded behind you, and your heart jumped in panic as you twisted around in Jake’s hold. The man’s murderous gaze landed on you, his lips curled in a sneer before dropping at the sight of the captain behind you. His skin paled as Jake’s hold on you tightened, and you felt the familiar sting of tears behind your eyes.

“What happened?” Jake barked, and the man in front of you flinched at the tone. Neither of you said a word as you stared at one another, daring the other to speak first.

Footsteps sounded on the gangway, and you turned to see a small group making their way onto the deck, headed by Javy. The quarter master stopped short as he saw the scene in front of him, his usual stoicism slipping into a look of shock before they schooled once more. He pushed his shoulders back and made quick strides to stand next to the two of you.

“Captain,” he said, arching a brow at the man behind you. “What seems to be the problem here?”

“I was wondering that myself,” Jake growled, the tension rolling off of him in waves. A beat of silence passed before Javy let out a drawn-out sigh.

“Thomas,” he snapped, drawing the man’s attention. “Get your ass down in the galley. I’ll be dealing with you in a moment.”

The quarter master’s tone left no room for argument and the man, Thomas, cast one last glance in your direction before retreating back down the steps.

“Reuben. Mickey,” Javy barked out. Both men hurried to follow Thomas down the steps without another word, giving you curious looks as they walked by. The quarter master turned to look at the captain, lips pressed tightly together as he glanced down at you.

“You might want to get her cleaned up,” he said quietly. Jake said nothing. He guided you towards the cabin, his touch surprisingly gentle as your feet stumbled beneath you. You felt the first wave of exhaustion hit you then, sagging further into Jake’s side as he led you past the door and down the hall to his cabin.

The room was just as you remembered, not having seen it in the weeks since the captain started pushing you away. The man in question led you further into the room before guiding you to sit on the edge of the bed. Your mind was foggy, but you were vaguely aware of Jake moving. The sound of water being poured from a pitcher and into a bowl filled the room, and the blond kneeled before you with a cloth in hand. He took one of your hands in his, stroking the back of it with his thumb gently.

“Guppy?” He murmured, eyes searching your face. “You still with me?”

“Yeah,” you croaked quietly. Jake gave you a comforting smile that seemed strained more than anything else. He looked away to mess with the bowl to his side, wringing the cloth of the water it had soaked up before turning back to you.

“You had me worried there for a second,” he said finally, dabbing at the scratches on your cheek. “I couldn’t find you after you left the tavern, and then I heard the bell on the ship, which I thought was odd for this time of night. I go to investigate and you run right into me with one of my crew hot on your tail.”

You said nothing, eyelids drooping as you fought the urge to sleep that was quickly taking over. Jake worked methodically, dabbing gently at your cheek and wiping away the blood that stained your skin.

“You should get some rest,” he told you, dropping the cloth back into the bowl and moving to stand. You watched him, taking note of the way his brow furrowed and his lips pulled down into a frown. He set the bowl on one of the tables littering the wall before turning back to you.

“You must be exhausted after today,” he continued, making his way back over to you. He brushed the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear before cupping your cheek gently. He bent down to press a kiss to your forehead, pulling away slightly, but still lingering.

“I mean it,” he chided, hands pushing you and guiding you to lay back, “you need to get some rest. We’ll talk later, alright?”

You nodded, eyes already falling closed as he retreated.

You awoke with a start, sweat clinging to your forehead as you bolted upright. The lingering feeling of being chased hung in the air as your chest rose and fell with every pant of air. You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the sun looked to be well in the sky from where you sat on the bed. It was at that moment that the door to the cabin swung open.

Jake stood in the doorway, a look of concern on his flushed face, as if he had been running.

“What is it?” He asked, breathless. “What’s wrong?”

You stared at him dumbly. “What?”

“I heard screaming,” he replied, brow furrowing as he inched into the room, the door closing behind him. “I thought something was wrong.”

You continued to stare at him as he padded closer, studying you.

“How’re you doing?” He asked finally, softly. The events of the night before rushed back to you. The feeling of helplessness, the pain, the fear. You thought about what Thomas had said to you, about wanting to feel relief, and a wave of anger crashed into you so suddenly that you were on your feet before you knew it. You stomped over to Jake, shoving at his chest. The captain was taken aback, stumbling backwards in his surprise.

“Hey!” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up to defend against the blows of your fists against his chest. You ignored his outcry, swinging your hands blindly in front of you.

“Guppy, stop,” Jake said, scrambling to grab your wrists and stop you. You bared your teeth, rage pulsing through you much like it had last night.

“Dammit, stop!” He snapped, finally getting ahold of your wrists, stopping your tirade. The two of you stared at each other, panting from the exertion. Jakes eyes bored into yours, searching for what, you didn’t know. You yanked your hands free of his, pursing your lips in a tight frown as you studied him back. A warmth blossomed in your lower stomach, and your breaths grew labored for a different reason. Jake’s expression morphed into one of confusion, which didn’t last long as you leaned up to kiss him.

He let out a noise of quiet surprise before returning the kiss with enthusiasm. One hand moved to grip your waist, pulling you closer as the other snaked up to cup the back of your neck. Your arms wrapped around his neck, caution thrown to the wind as you moved your lips against his. Jake licked into your mouth, drawing out an embarrassingly loud noise from you. You felt the smirk against your lips, and a twinge of annoyance fluttered through the surface.

You pulled back, breathing heavy before pushing against Jake’s chest to dislodge yourself from his embrace. He gave you a puzzled look as you spun him around, pushing him down onto the edge of the bed. You hoisted your skirts up around you before settling down on his lap, once again attaching your lips to his. He let out a grunt that quickly dissolved into a moan as you began to rock against him, the hardness of him pressing into you through his trousers.

His hands settled on your hips, guiding you over him as his mouth devoured yours in a kiss that was more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hands roamed his figure, up the span of his torso, over his shoulders, and into his hair. Your fingers entwined with his golden locks, scratching at his scalp and eliciting a drawn out grown from the man beneath you.

You clutched at his hair, yanking his head back harshly. Jake let out a hiss as his eyes focused on you. Green was swallowed up by the blacks of his pupils, and a look of pure lust adorned his face as you held him still.

“It’s your fault,” you spat, hovering your lips just over his. His brow furrowed once more.

“What?”

“He wouldn’t have gone after me if you hadn’t been avoiding me for weeks,” you continued, grinding down on the bulge in Jake’s pants. He gave a wanton moan as his eyes fluttered closed.

“Nothing to say?” You breathed, a moan escaping your lips as pleasure coursed through you.

“It wouldn’t have-fuck!” He groaned, “it wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t run from me.”

You let out a growl before yanking his head to the side, running your nose along his neck. You sank your teeth into the meat of his shoulder, drawing out a pathetic whimper as his grip on you tightened, the muscles in his neck straining as he fought for control.

You let out a startled yelp as you were flipped onto your back, Jake’s hands scrambling to untie the strings of your shirt, baring your chest to him. The cool air caused your nipples to start pebbling, your chest heaving as you gazed up at him.

Jake lowered his mouth down to capture one nipple between his lips, laving it with attention as a hand reached up to grope the other. Your back arched as you threw your head back in bliss, hands curling in the soft locks of your lover once more. Jake nipped and sucked at the skin of your breast before shifting his attention to the other, and you glanced down to find him already looking at you. A smirk ghosted on his lips as he trailed a hand down under your skirts.

His fingers brushed your lower lips, sending a shiver up your spine that left you wanting more.

“Look at you,” he cooed, running his hand up and down your slit, your wetness coating him as you moaned. “Already so wet for me. You get off acting like such a wild thing all the time?”

His thumb circled your clit, and you let out a high-pitched whine as you arched into his touch. The smirk was full-blown now as you clung to him.

“Don’t you worry, pretty girl,” he murmured, cradling the back of your neck to bring your forehead to rest against his. His nose nuzzled yours as your breaths came out in quick pants. “I’ll take good care of you.”

Slowly, he pressed a finger into your entrance, your walls gripping the digit tightly, and he let out a breath.

“Fuck, so tight,” he muttered more to himself than to you. You clung to him, fingertips digging into his shoulders as he slowly pumped in and out of you, adding a second finger before long.

“Such pretty noises you make for me,” he cooed once more, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before drawing back. You tried to chase after him, but he moved just out of reach with a chuckle. “You’re squeezin’ me so hard, darlin’. You gonna let go for me?”

You let out another whimper, the coil in your belly curling tight as you scrunched your eyes closed, and you fought to hold it off just a little longer. Jake tutted, moving the hand on your neck to grip your chin firmly. Your eyes fluttered open to meet his disapproving gaze.

“Don’t you go holding back on me,” he growled, speeding up the motion of his fingers, paying special attention to your clit. “Your pleasure is mine. Now give. It. To. Me.”

With a final thrust, the coil sprang, pleasure coursing through your veins as you let out a keening moan. Jake leaned forward, swallowing your pleasure with a debauched kiss that left your head reeling for air. He pulled away, and you gasped for air, sucking in lungfuls as you came down from your high.

Jake littered soft kisses along your neck leading down to your shoulders, and a new wave of need filled you. You ran a hand through his hair, the other reaching between the two of you to pull at the laces of his britches.

“Jake,” you breathed, looking at him through your lashes. “Need you.”

Jake pulled back with a huff of a laugh as he looked down at you, hands moving to help release him from his pants.

“Not even going to wait for us to undress?” He teased, sucking in a breath as your hand wrapped around his length.

“Need you now,” you insisted, stroking him. He let out a groan, shifting back on his haunches as you released him, spreading your legs with a whine. Jake hesitated, and you pouted up at him.

“What is it?” You asked, leaning up slightly to get a better look at him.

“It’s just,” he paused, pressing his lips together and turning his gaze away from you. “I need to know if this is real. If this is more than just anger, and adrenaline, and any feelings you’re having about the deadline coming up.”

You stared at him for a moment, processing his words. You sat up, taking his hand in yours and squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to worry about any of that,” you whispered. Jake looked back at you, eyes searching once more, and you gave him a soft smile that you hoped eased his worries.

“Kiss me,” you said. Jake returned your smile, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your lips. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him with you as you laid back. The kiss morphed into one that was more debauched, quiet moans falling past your lips as Jake trailed his own down your neck.

You reached down to grip him once more, spreading your legs and aligning him with your entrance. Jake wasted no time, leaning back to watch you as he pushed inside of you slowly. You let out a gasp, hands clutching at his arms as he filled you, the slight burn pushing the air from your lungs.

“Taking me so well, sugar,” he crooned, running his knuckles along your cheek. “So warm and wet for me, fuck. Could stay inside of you forever.”

His words had you clenching around him, and he let out a strangled moan.

“You keep doin’ that, and I’m not gonna last long, darlin’,” he chuckled.

“Need you to move,” you whimpered. “Need you to fuck me.”

Jake didn’t respond, instead leaning down to capture your lips in another kiss as he pulled his hips back, only to push them forward once more. He soon found a rhythm, and the sound of skin slapping and the cacophony of noises from the two of you soon filled the room.

“Feel so good,” he muttered in between kisses along your skin. Your nails dug into his shoulders now, legs wrapped around his waist, urging him on. “Never felt something this good, shit. Never wanna leave. Never want anyone else, just you. Squeezin’ me so hard, yeah. Just like that. I’m not gonna last much longer, darlin’, you just feel too good.”

“Need it,” you choked out, the coil inside of you on the brink of bursting once more. “Need to feel you.”

“Fuck, sugar,” he groaned, hips moving faster and losing their rhythm. “Want me to fill you up? Is that what you want?”

You nodded, moans escaping your lips left and right as you teetered on the edge.

“Dirty girl,” he huffed with a laugh. “Feel you clenchin’ around me. Don’t you worry, I’ll give it to you. Keep you nice and full, and then you’ll swell with me. You like the sound of that? Like the idea of me marking you from the inside out?”

Your hips bucked up to meet his, desperately chasing your release, and Jake obliged by slipping a hand between the two of you to toy with your clit.

“Need to feel you come around me, pretty girl. Then I’ll give you what you want,” he cooed. “Come for me.”

His words were all it took to send you over the precipice. Your moan caught in your throat, and your back arched as you came hard around him. Jake’s pace picked up before his hips stuttered, a moan leaving his lips as warmth flooded inside of you. He gave a few more shallow thrusts before stilling. His breath fanned across your neck, your fingers running through his hair.

Jake shifted off of you, pulling out of you with a quiet hiss as he shuffled to lay next to you. His hand gripped your waist, pulling you close with a sigh. You nuzzled into him, resting your head against the pillows as you held the captain in your arms, his head resting on your chest. Neither of you said anything for a long moment, just basking in the afterglow of your coupling.

“I love you.”

It was so quiet, you weren’t even sure you had heard it at first. Your fingers paused in his hair for a moment before continuing their path. Something swelled inside your chest, and you willed the tears to stay locked inside. What you were feeling would only serve to cause you more harm if everything went poorly, and still…

“I love you too.”

A/N: You all have the fact that I started watching Black Sails this weekend to thank for this. But seriously, I know I took an unexpected hiatus after everything that went on last month, and for a while there, I wasn't even sure about the future of this blog. Thank you all for sticking by me as I navigated what I was doing, and I hope to have more for you guys here soon!