#fluff request

Baran comes into work looking like shit. The tip of her nose is a little reddened from relentless rubbing with tissues… along with the general flush of her face. Her skin’s a little clammy, with less of that warm glow that she always emanates shining through. The first person to notice? Dana. Because Dana would notice if her girlfriend so much as sneezed in proximity to her. The alarm bells go off so fast.

Dana pauses the conversation she was having with Emma while she watches Baran walk past the nurse’s station a little too fast, eyes fixed very stubbornly on the floor. Dana’s eyes narrow, watching Baran like she’d just grown a second head. Baran never passes the nurse’s station without trying to catch Dana’s eyes—even just for a fleeting moment and a quick smile. She would never look away so blatantly unless something was up.

About an hour later, Dana spots Baran passing the station with that same fixed stare. Not this time. Dana quickly moves, making her way over to where Baran is passing with slightly furrowed brows and a concerned look. Her voice is low and muttered as Baran passes so that their coworkers don’t overhear.

“Al, baby, is everything—“

“I’m fine, love. Princess was looking for you, you should go find her.

Baran is gone as fast as she came. That makes Dana pause. Uh-uh. Not in her ED. Her girlfriend can’t come to work looking like the walking dead and get away with it that easily.

Baran buries herself in cases for as long as she can stand on her own two feet. Which isn’t very long. She ends up having to step out mid- procedure and let Javadi take over because she’s beginning to feel dizzy. The nausea mixed with the panic that this might be another seizure? Even Baran can’t hide this level of being out of it. She beelines for the staircase leading to the main hospital—a quiet refuge to hide while she catches her breath.

“Alright, enough.” Dana’s voice is the only noise in the staircase other than Baran’s heavy, panicked breathing. She turns quickly. Of course it’s Dana who found her here. No one knows her hiding spots like Dana does.

“I’m fine, Dana, please just—“ Baran is interrupted with a steady, firm tone from Dana.

“Don’t pull that bullshit with me. C’mon, you know I'm not falling for it.” Dana scoffs in slight frustration, slight concern, stepping closer to Baran. Her expression softens in a way it does for very, very few people. She reaches out, one hand gently holding Baran’s jaw, the other resting on her forehead, feeling her temperature. “Tell me what’s wrong, honey.” Dana mutters, even softer this time. More concerned than she has been in months. Baran’s forehead is, unsurprisingly, way too hot for her to be anywhere but in bed.

While Baran tries muttering some excuse about allergies, Dana drops her hand, giving her girlfriend a glare.

“Uh-uh. You’re going home.” Dana says without hesitation when Baran says she’s good to stay.

“What? I can’t leave work.” Baran argues back. Even she knows her voice sounds more scratchy, more weak than usual.

“Yes you can. C'mon, baby. We’re leaving. Get the keys.”

Dana escorts Baran out of the building like she’s sure the attending will slip away and get on some case when she looks away. Every time someone glances at them weird, Dana just gives them that signature look back, daring them to ask why her hand is resting on the small of Dr. Al-Hashimi’s back, guiding her to the door.

As soon as they’re out, Baran actually lets out a breath, looking at Dana with those big brown doe eyes.

“Thank you.” She says softly, finally not fighting against Dana pointing out the haltingly obvious fact that she’s not okay.

Dana rubs her back soothingly, leaning in to press a kiss on her forehead.

“Are you kidding? How could I let my girl stay at work with a fever hotter than a Pittsburgh summer?” Now, Dana’s tone is back to that almost uncharacteristically soft one. This loving, warmth that she exudes? She reserves it for only Baran, really. Especially when she knows that Baran is willing to run herself ragged if it means helping someone else. Not today. Not under Dana’s watch.

Dana drives them back, hand reaching over the console to hold Baran’s the entire time. Baran is… well, sort of barely staying awake. But still holding on tight like she just needs Dana close.

Once they arrive back at Baran’s place, everything is finally just quiet. As soon as the door clicks shut, Baran pulls Dana into a hug, face pressing into her blonde hair, breathing her in. A small, soft smile forms on Dana’s face as she pulls Baran in closer, one hand pressing between her shoulder blades, the other cradling the back of her head, fingers pressed into her dark curls. They just stand there for a long moment, in Baran’s entryway, holding each other tightly.

“Okay. Let’s get you showered and in bed.” Dana mutters as she finally manages to pull away. With a small smile, she leans in and kisses Baran quickly. Baran kisses back almost immediately, melting into her as she takes her hands.

“You shouldn’t do that. I’ll get you sick.” Baran argues when they break apart, although very weakly so.

Dana just scoffs, giving Baran the same look she gives patients who are so very obviously lying to her. Maybe just to spite Baran, she leans in and leaves a quick peck on her lips. “I’ll live.”

When they make it back to Baran’s bedroom, Dana’s already got her fingers under the hem of Baran’s top.

“Arms up, love.” She mutters, coaxing Baran’s arms into the air as she slowly guides her top off.

“I can take off my own clothes, Dana.” Baran mutters with a small, barely-there smile, her voice still scratchy and a little worn out. When her top drops onto the floor beside her, leaving her in just her bra and leggings, she doesn’t try to cover herself at all. She never feels like she has to with Dana.

“I know you can.” Dana says simply, already hooking her fingers into the waistband of the leggings. “But I'm here. And I want to do it for you.”

Dana slowly tugs her leggings down, pulling a soft laugh from Baran. She’s never been used to receiving affection like this. She’s always the one taking care, never the one taken care of. Dana helps her out of her leggings with a glance up at Baran as she presses a single kiss against her thigh. Baran really can’t help but smile, even if she feels like shit.

Dana taking off Baran’s bra and panties is, usually, the start of a night that will inevitably end in them both panting, falling asleep, tangled with each other. Now? It just feels so, so caring. Dana goes slow, mumbling instructions like she does with her patients as she guides the straps of Baran’s bra off, she’s flickering from her chest to her face. Her panties come next, in the same fashion—slow, intimate… but not sexual. Just comforting. Baran lets her do everything slowly, relaxing into the careful care of it all—for once accepting that she kind of needs this. Dana hums when Baran is bare in front of her, eyes fixed on Dana’s, sealing them in this quiet moment.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful.” Dana murmurs, hands gliding over Baran’s sides soothingly. “Even when you’re sick. And annoyingly stubborn.” Dana could never lose her sarcastic, dry edge. Not even when her voice is all low and soft while she stands here with her girlfriend in a perfect moment.

It takes a good while for them to pull away. Dana has to literally guide Baran to the bathroom, both of them laughing softly at Baran’s admitted clinginess while sick. Dana leaves one more kiss on her forehead as she brushes Baran’s curls, leaving her in the bathroom.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll make tea when you come out, kay?”

She says softly as Baran turns on the shower. She glances over her shoulder, smiling softly.

“Thank you, my love.”

Baran comes out of the shower with dripping wet hair, a towel held loosely around her chest, eyes feeling heavier with the relaxation of a warm shower. As she steps into her bedroom, she spots Dana, smoothing out Baran’s favorite silk pajamas, a warm cup of chamomile and honey set on the bedside dresser. Baran immediately lets out a soft breath, looking totally lovestruck. When Dana hears her, she turns around, ready to say something… before Baran hugs her again. Dana laughs softly as she looks down at the wet mess of curls pressed into her neck.

“Alright, alright, you’re gettin’ me all wet—just get in bed, baby”

Baran makes a small noise against Dana’s neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin there.

“I’m going.” She murmurs, reluctantly letting go to change into her pajamas and slide into bed. Dana watches with an expression of both slight concern and affection.

Once Baran is in bed, settled, she basically sinks into the sheets, curling up as her eyes close, hair sprawling over the pillow. Dana, for a moment, considers just staying where she stands so as to not get sick. But how foul she stay away from her girlfriend, looking so adorable, so rarely vulnerable in bed like that?

She climbs in silently a minute later, arms wrapping around Baran from behind. She presses her face against Baran’s shoulder, taking a deep breath against her.

“Love you, baby.” She murmurs, earning a soft, unintelligible mumble from Baran… who is already drifting to sleep. Dana scoffs affectionately and kisses Baran’s shoulder. It’s only a few minutes before they’re both asleep, curled up with each other.

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Wednesday, April 18, 8:32AM

The subway cart was packed full, Oliver’s lanky frame was being folded into each other as more and more businessmen boarded the sub. He hugged his bookbag tight against himself. Their large frames taking over Oliver’s personal space which was seemingly nonexistent. That was the one thing he missed about Westport: the space….and the quiet…and how people actually cared…lack of traffic…okay, maybe he misses Westport more than he likes to admit.

“59th Street, Columbus Circle,” the automated subway system rang out. Oliver started pushing his way to the exit, but his attempts were unsuccessful: no one was budging as there was nowhere to go. He just sighed and prayed to the New York City rats that enough people would move.

As the train slowed to a stop, everyone swayed forward and stumbled when it came to a stuttering stop. When he heard the door woosh open and the muttering of the crowd pick up, he tried to go forward but was pushed to the side and everyone rushed in and out. All he could do was watch with despair as the subway door closed and started moving forward: he was late to his internship…again.

Fuck.

The whole way to the next stop, Oliver cursed himself and his choices. As much as he loved the city, it was a survival game. Cooper and him both found schools they love in New York City: Oliver graduated a semester early last December and Cooper was working his way to the top of the culinary world. It was a huge change for both of them, but they faced it together. Cooper’s dad paid for their studio apartment tucked away so that helped relieve so much but as they both started making their own money, they started to pay for half the rent. As much as they loved having their apartment paid for, they wanted to be fully independent. Four years later, everything was still okay.

The subway train sputtered out the next stop and Oliver was ready. This time he pushed forcefully to the door ignoring the grunts and hateful comments. Once the door opened again, he jumped out and ran up the stairs. He took a deep breath once he reached the street and looked around, okay he was not that far from his job.

Oliver set a fast pace weaving in and out of the crowd. As he walked, he saw a bare alleyway that gave him a clear view of his workplace. There was a few dumpsters that littered the pathway but he decided to take his chances; he was ready to fight anyone after the day he has had already. He puffed out his chest and held his breath as he started his journey through.

His confident stride slowed at every little sound: a bird chirping, trash falling, wind blowing an empty beer can. Suddenly, a fallen trashcan rolled out on the street right up to Oliver. “What the…” Oliver said slowly walking to the opening, his heart beating out his chest, he was not as tough as he thought. He squinted his eyes into the trashcan and saw something furry?

“A dog?” Oliver questioned out loud making the animal snap their head up. Oliver started to see features: the dog was scruffy looking, mainly white with light brown (almost ginger) spots placed randomly. If he had to make an educated guess, he would say Jack Russell Oliver expected the dog to become territorial over their food but when the dog saw him, they started wagging their tail and smiling. This caused Oliver to immediately relax.

“Hey buddy, what are you doing out here?” Oliver chuckled when the dog stood up and placed its paws on Olivers leg. He squatted down slowly trying so hard not to scare the dog. “Oh my gosh, aren’t you the cutest?” Oliver exclaimed, cute aggression coming out but that was quickly replaced with sadness.

Oliver couldn’t help the negative thoughts plaguing his mind: was this little dog abandoned? Was it born into this? Was it hurt? Was it scared of thunderstorms? Tears pricked Oliver’s eyes and the dog tilted its head and started licking Oliver’s hand. His heart shattered: here is this dog with so much bad in their life yet they are comforting Oliver.

Cooper.

This dog reminded him of Cooper! Cooper was on his own trying to figure it out, Cooper kissed the back of Oliver’s hand, Cooper would always comfort Oliver even though he had a bad day. Oliver needed to bring this dog home and have Cooper fall in love with the dog. It was perfect! Oliver even though the dog kind of looked like Cooper, the spots were almost identical match to Cooper’s hair. The soft, optimistic eyes they both shared melted Oliver’s heart.

Lately, Cooper had been asking Oliver all these questions about getting a pet, so Oliver figured that Cooper wanted a pet. Despite Oliver telling Cooper that he prefers cats, this dog was perfect. More negative thoughts creeped in, what if this was someone’s dog who ran away or got lost. Oliver examined the dog for a collar or anything to hint towards an owner.

“Do you want to come home with me?” The dog wagged its tail as if it was responding. “Oh, you do?” Oliver chuckled and picked up the dog despite every alarm of cleanliness rang. His dress shirt and pants could be washed, He pulled out his phone with his other hand and called in to work today and looked for the nearest vet to check on the dog.

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Wednesday, April 18, 6:39AM

Today was the day Cooper was surprising Oliver with a cat. He had been asking Oliver questions for the past month, he tried to convince Oliver that they were just curiosity questions: do you want a cat? Which kind? How many? Okay, Cooper admits it is suspicious plus he found that he was not smooth at all with surprises. He was so bad; Oliver was starting to ask if Cooper wanted a pet. The idea of getting Oliver a cat arose when he noticed Oliver started sending him more and more cat videos and then ‘if I had a cat, I would do this! Oh, if I had a cat, I would treat her so right!”

Cooper quickly caught on that Oliver wanted a cat, Oliver tried to deny the allegations but would light up anytime they talked about owning a cat. Through conversations and questioning, Cooper knew that Oliver wanted a girl, black cat, not a kitten. How fitting, Cooper thought.

Cooper spent countless hours researching and calling and looking for the perfect cat. There was multiple nights he would pretend to fall asleep until Oliver did then stayed up researching. He not only was looking for a cat but also the best brands, toys, catnip, litter, anything about how to properly care for a cat.

Cooper had found Meatball on the local shelter page last week and immediately messaged them. He visited a few times and finally signed the papers after he was cleared. Meatball was a black cat with brown eyes, just like Oliver. When he visited Meatball for the first time, the cat was playing alone and seemed uninterested in Cooper. As Cooper talked to the owner, the cat snuck up to Cooper and was smelling him timidly.

Cooper acted like he didn’t notice as to not scare the cat which seemed to work as Meatball started tangling between Cooper’s legs. They played for over an hour though Cooper decided the second he saw the cat that he was getting her. He filled out the paperwork and waited for the okay. Oliver noticed Cooper’s excitement that day but didn’t question it too much.

“What…what are you doing up?” Oliver questioned sleepily from the island counter as he rubbed his eyes. “Why are you making breakfast at…6:45am? Come back to bed.” Oliver whined, he was dressed only in Cooper’s loose boxers.

“Because mi amor, I love you and wanted to make you breakfast before you start the day.” Cooper told Oliver like it was obvious. “Now, go get ready!” Cooper shooed him out as he finished the food. He set the island up as a buffet and placed some decorations to make it seem more formal, he asked the Alexa to play 50’s romantic melodies. Such a sap.

Oliver finally came to the kitchen twenty minute later just as Cooper set the last plate down; chocolate chip pancakes. Oliver tried to keep up his tough boy persona, but a bashful blush spread across his face.

“You are such a sap,” Oliver muttered before walking up to Cooper. “Oh my gosh, you still have this!” Oliver laughed as he traced the apron that said ‘Kiss the chef’ Cooper was wearing. Katie had got Cooper the apron as a going away gift.

“Well, I think you should listen to the apron.”

Oliver smirked wrapping his arms around Cooper’s shoulders and pulled them tight for a kiss. The two sat down and ate together in comfortable silence, the music danced around them providing a comforting atmosphere.

“Okay, I have my internship until noon then I have meetings where I just sit there and look pretty then I have to fill the paperwork from the meeting then I will be home probably around 5,” Oliver ran over his plans again hurriedly, maybe he got distracted by his beautiful boyfriend and his beautiful lips. “I have to go, Coop! I am going to miss the train!”

Cooper watched as Oliver ran out the door. He cleaned up the kitchen and got ready to leave. ID? Check. Money for Meatball? Check. Little travel cage for Meatball? Check. Best boyfriend ever? Check! He ran out the door and to his car in the parking lot. He cringed as he saw how busy the streets were.

The car roared to life and Cooper started his drive to the shelter. He got there swiftly despite the New York City traffic. Luckily, Cooper was heading the opposite direction of most the traffic. The shelter staff happily greeted Cooper, he didn’t know who was more excited about the adoption: him or staff or Meatball. As soon as Meatball saw Cooper again, she meowed loudly.

Cooper thanked the staff and let them say their teary good-byes to Meatball. “Hi Meatball! I’m your new dad.” He smiled at Meatball who was visibly and understandably nervous. “Okay, we have to go pick up food for me and you. I am surprising my boyfriend with, well, you tonight.” Cooper explained though he knew Meatball wouldn’t understand. Though, Meatball actually seemed to calm a bit and started batting the little mouse toy.

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Wednesday, April 18, 9:42AM

“What?” Oliver bluntly asked.

“Look, I am sorry kid. Protocol, you can drop off the dog and come back at 3 when we are done.”

“But it is only 9am!” Oliver whined, the dog looked up at him and whined, sensing Oliver’s stress. “Okay, fine, put us down.”

“Okay, just go ahead and fill this out and we will call you when we are ready for you!” The receptionist smiled and handed Oliver a clip board. There was only one question that truly stumped him: name of pet. What does he put? Does the dog already have a name? Should Oliver name the dog or should Cooper? Is the dog a boy or girl?!

Oliver sighed and wrote down ‘Doggy’ in the name of pet section, that will work for now. He cringed at himself for writing Doggy instead of Dog but he can’t change it now. “Alright, Doggy, I promise I will be back.” He felt a pang of anxiety when the door shut behind him, will Doggy be okay? What if Doggy already had a home??? Oliver doesn’t think he could handle that, he had already decided that he was going to shop for Doggy while he waited. He decided that Doggy was coming home with him one way or another.

He walked downtown until he saw some pet boutique, perfect. He spent over two hours there talking to the owner who also has a Jack Russell. He told Oliver pretty much everything he needed to know; he even gave the kid a discount. Oliver was overwhelmed with joy; he didn’t realize how lost he was in owning a dog. Honestly, neither he or Cooper ever owned a pet: Bradford’s and Otto’s were not big on pets.

Oliver checked Cooper’s location and saw he was on some random road, maybe he was on his way to his culinary internship; senior year had been very busy for them. He decided he was going to pick up dog food (the store owner gave him a list to choose from, all varying in price) and hide everything in the apartment. He reasoned that if everything was already in the apartment, Cooper could not say no.

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Wednesday, April 18, 10:53PM

Cooper’s car powered down and he grabbed Meatball’s cage. There was no way that he have Meatball live like this right now. He looked around for a solution and found one of Oliver’s purses (satchel. Satchel Oliver reminds him every time), it could work. He took Meatball out while explaining the plan, Meatball sat happily in the bag.

Cooper browsed up and down the isles as Meatball sat patiently in the satchel. Luckily the carts had a place for children to sit which allowed Cooper to pet the cat as he shopped. He eventually found cat food that rated number one on at least 17 websites, he was hoping for 20 but 17 works. He also bought everything he might need: harness, leash, toys, catnip, food for months, treats, shampoo and conditioner, even little cat posters to maybe help her feel more welcome.

He noted the total; he had no idea owning a cat would be so much work and money, but it was all worth it. He couldn’t stop imagining Oliver’s face when he surprises Oliver. “Now Meatball,” Cooper started as he finished putting the rest of the bags in the car. “We are going to my favorite grocery store and we are going to get ingredients to make Oliver’s favorite dish…” A realization washed over him and he started laughing, Meatball just looked at him confused.

“Oh my gosh! His favorite meal is spaghetti and meatballs…and your name is Meatball! This is great!” Cooper couldn’t stop giggling to himself, how perfect is this working out! He finished his shopping list among a few other little things, and packed the car tight. He saw he had a message from Oliver saying his was going to be back around 4:30pm instead.

“Let’s go, Meatball.”

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Wednesday, April 18, 2:55PM

Oliver raced to the vet after he hid everything in the apartment, he prayed Cooper would not dig too much at the pile of dirty laundry in the closet. “And you are here for…Doggy?” the receptionist checked. “One moment please!” They shuffled to the back and returned with an eager Doggy. It seemed Doggy made a good impression as everyone gave a bittersweet good-bye.

“Okay, here is your special boy.” They handed Oliver the leash. “So, the vet found no signs of a chip and we checked all missing dog reports, not a single match. Looks like Doggy is yours!” Oliver didn’t even realize he was holding his breath, this was amazing!

“O-okay!” Oliver kneeled and ruffled Doggy’s fur, he was still in shock that Doggy was actually his.

“We did give him some of the basic vaccines and a much-needed bath, so he is all caught up and ready to love and play.” Oliver couldn’t help but smile even harder. “Oh! We did find that Doggy responds to Spaghetti.” Doggy even peaked up at the word expectedly.

“Spaghetti,” Oliver said with awe. He thanked everyone and even made a yearly check-up appointment. “Let’s go home, spaghetti.”

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Wednesday, April 18, 3:20PM

“Oop, looks liked your mommy is going to be home sooner than we thought!” Cooper exclaimed, they had got home 30 minutes ago, and Cooper had set up everything. He had ordered a cat tree a few days ago and it came today thankfully. He set the small cat jungle in their living room next to a window in case Meatball just wanted to look around.

Cooper set up the flowers he bought in a jar along with a card on the counter hidden from the entrance, he truly wanted to surprise Oliver. He started on the spaghetti and meatballs with some indie song playing in the background, the soft melodies filled the apartment. Meatball seemed to find herself at home quickly, she became obsessed with one of Oliver’s shirts and had pulled it in the cat house.

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Wednesday, April 18 4:19PM

“Okay, so make sure to give him your best puppy eyes,” Spaghetti looked up at Oliver from his spot on the floor. As soon as they left the vet, Oliver put Spaghetti’s new harness and clipped it on his new leash. Oliver immediately snapped a photo, Spaghetti looked so cute in his new gear. “Perfect! Here goes nothing.”

He shoved his key in the door and heard hurried shuffling inside, “Hey…Coop. So uhm,” The two made their way inside slowly, luckily their apartment was covered in rugs, so Spaghetti’s nails didn’t clack against the hardwood. Once he rounded the end of the hallway into the kitchen he froze, oh shit.

“Wha…Coop…you…a cat!” Oliver started to cry, he felt so overwhelmed in a good way. Cooper stood there with his mouth dropped to the ground, what?

“Ollie, who is that?” Cooper laughed as he pointed to the dog who was just panting with joy.

“Oh uhm,” Oliver sniffed and wiped his eyes roughly. “So, this is Spaghetti…” He told Cooper everything: how he found spaghetti, the vet, what is in the closet, how they are never getting rid of him.

“Wow, sounds like you had quiet the day,” Cooper spoke in a high pitched voice to the dog, cat still in hand. “Well, this is Meatball…” It was Cooper’s turn to tell Oliver how he had been planning this for months and everything him and Meatball did today. As Cooper talked, Meatball reached for Oliver. Oliver’s heart swelled with overwhelming love for this little cat he just met, he took Meatball into his arms. Meatball immediately relaxed and started playing with one of Oliver’s buttons.

Cooper turned and pulled Oliver to face him before kissing him deeply and softly. “Thank you, Coop. I love Meatball.” Oliver smiled at Cooper; he couldn’t believe how lucky he was. They introduced Spaghetti and Meatball to each other which went perfectly, they sniffed each other until Meatball kissed Spaghetti. Cooper and Oliver just watched them interact, even snapping a few photos.

Cooper pulled away to Oliver’s confusion and knelt down, “Oliver Otto, you are perfect in every way. You are so selfless, willing to help anyone or anything.” Cooper nodded to Spaghetti. “You are the most hardworking person I have ever met, once you have a goal, you are finishing that goal. I wake up every day so inspired by you just being you. You, Oliver Otto, have granted me the best gift of all: enjoying life.”

“Cooper,” Oliver was already crying.

“I not only want to enjoy the rest of my life with you but I want to experience life with you: the happy, the sad, the angry, the hurt, all of it. So will you, Oliver Otto, marry me?”

“Of course, Cooper!” Oliver exclaimed, pulling Cooper up to hug him. They held each other with so much joy vibrating between the two of them, they have never felt more connected. “This is the best day ever.”

“And to top off the night, I have made your favorite…” Cooper busted out laughing, the couldn’t believe it.

“What?”

“I made spaghetti and meatballs, and our animals’ names are Spaghetti and Meatball!” Cooper exclaimed from the floor where he had to kneel because he was laughing so hard. Oliver joined him once he realized all the joy they felt today coming out as laughter. They spent the rest of the night just talking about their day over and over again; they could not get over how wonderful their life was.

Cooper had prepared Oliver an over-the-top bath with bubbles, candles, wine, music, even chocolate cover strawberries from Oliver’s favorite café. They shared the bath together before finally going to bed. They curled up with each other and two new members joined them. They fit together like they were a puzzle: Oliver curled up on Cooper’s chest, Cooper’s one arm wrapped around Oliver and the other Spaghetti who was curled up, and Meatball on Cooper’s chest where Oliver caressed her until they both fell asleep.

Wednesday, April 18, a day to remember for the new Bradford-Otto family.

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I am on AO3 as the same username if you want to check out my other works. This is on there :P Also sorry the images are so big, I don't know how to fix that but they are so cute they have to stay. Anyways, thanks for reading lovelies!

XOXO Fairy

You met Daryl at the camp outside Atlanta, you were always attracted to him, you won't deny it, you never could. His scruffy appearance, his brusque character and his constant defiance against Shane managed to attract all your attention. It was a physical attraction, you were sure of it, the redneck was handsome, with those intense blue eyes, shapely arms from carrying that crossbow, his long days of hunting, you were convinced that sex with him must be really good. But you didn't do anything, at least not during the time you were in the camp, although you didn't care about privacy, the fear and the constant tension that some zombie would appear there, diminished your sexual appetite, but that didn't mean that you didn't follow his movements with your eyes full of desire. You were very clear about what Daryl was for you, a distraction, an adventure, a passing pleasure, if you managed to get hold of him, you would accept whatever the villager offered you. You weren't in love, your heart wouldn't break. You just needed to keep your mind distracted with something.

And that was Daryl Dixon.

From glances you moved to small smiles, always avoiding Merle being near, when he brought new game or helped with the laundry, you brushed his hands, connecting your looks, but Daryl always turned away and walked away, he seemed uncomfortable with the situation, so you didn't insist, but you didn't hold back when you wanted to touch him either.

Everything changed when Rick Grimes showed up, Merle got caught in that whip and death invaded the camp. Scared and with no way out you left the safety of the camp to take to the road seeking refuge at the CDC in the hope that you could find a safe place for a long time, or even a cure.

It was the first time Daryl touched you. It was the first time you shared the feel of each other's bodies.

It was sex without expecting anything else. A way to release all the tension you had built up, along with the desire you had been keeping quiet. You left your door open after showering and Daryl walked in without waiting for an invitation. The two of you let your desire take over. Daryl was intense, he roamed your body with his mouth and hands making you see stars. His cock made you moan as it had for a long time, but when the passion passed, Daryl seemed to be aware of what he had done and left your room slamming the door.

You didn't need to go after him, you didn't need to ask for explanations. You had gotten what you wanted, you had calmed your curiosity and desire for the hunter, if the next day he didn't remember what had happened or didn't want to hear from you in that sense, you were fine with that. However something did change, you didn't notice it at first, but you did notice that Daryl was more aware of you.

When Jenner confessed that the place was no longer safe, that it would self-destruct everyone panicked, Shane and Rick were trying to talk some sense into him while Daryl wanted to open the armored door with an axe.

"Come on, move!" he yelled at you as Jenner let you guys go grabbing your hand to get you out of there.

He even shielded you with his own body when the building exploded, so the shockwave wouldn't hit you. They were small gestures that were camouflaged under tense looks and annoyed grunts, but little by little you began to discover them and it made your heart melt more and more. At the Greene family farm things didn't change too much, even though he was focused on finding Sophia, every night when he came back from his patrols he always found a moment to look for you.

"What yer doin'?" he said to you the first day he found you alone outside the tent.

"I was talking to the girls, we wanted to thank the family for their hospitality." You told him and Daryl hummed nodding. "How did it go today?"

"As usual." He shrugged and held your wrist. "Come."

It wasn't a romantic invitation, there were no words of love or whispers of promises, it was just desire and need. Tucked into Daryl's tent the archer released his frustration and you allowed him to use your body as he needed at that moment, hushing your moans as your partners' tents were nearby. It wasn't the only night, but every morning you woke up alone, with a plate of food on the side, but alone. You still didn't care, Daryl managed to distract your mind from the shitty world you were in, you weren't going to impose rules you didn't need. He was looking for you and you were accepting what he was offering.

When Andrea shot him by mistake anger consumed you. She had been warned not to shoot, but she ignored everything, you were sure that day you could have killed her with your bare hands for daring to hurt Daryl, but you only broke her nose and maybe pulled out a lock of her hair. Between you and Carol you took care of Daryl, you never felt the woman as a threat, you were aware of the friendship that was forming between them, Carol had lost her family in a matter of days and Daryl seemed like the only one who really wanted Sophia back.

"Where are ya goin'?" he said to you that night as Carol took the tray of food away and you were about to leave as well.

"You need to rest."

"Stay, the bed is big enough for both of us." He said or rather whispered, as if he was embarrassed to ask you, but he didn't need to repeat it either.

Of course the mood and his attention to you changed dramatically when you found Sophia in that barn. His confidence crumbled, he verbally attacked Carol, tried to push you all away, but you knew he was just hurt, his effort had been for nothing. That night after he kicked Carol out of his camp, you went over to talk to him.

"What?" he barked at you as soon as he detected your presence, you shook your head and sat down by the fire. "I ain't wanna ya 're, get out." He said to you, but you didn't move. "Yer deaf? Do ya believe that...!"

"I don't think anything, I'm just here enjoying the fire."

"Ya can do that with the others."

"I know, but I don't want to."

"Why, who told ya I need ya here?"

"No one, and I don't think you need me here either, but I'd rather be, I just need to warm my hands and I'll go." You said and gave him a sidelong glance. Daryl chewed his lower lip nervously, he looked annoyed, but sighed sitting down too, giving up.

You remained silent for several minutes, you weren't sure how long, you watched the fire and felt the archer's gaze on you, examining you. Finally he seemed to give in.

"It wasn't my responsibility... sophia wasn't my daughter..." He says, anger oozing from his words. "It wasn't my obligation to find her, I didn't..." He falls silent with a frustrated sigh. "I failed... I promised Carol I would bring her back and I failed..."

"It's not your fault, Daryl, you shouldn't torture yourself. You did everything you could to bring Sophia back to her mother. You fought for them, you did more in a few days than Ed possibly did in his entire life." You comfort him and Daryl grimaces with his mouth. It's not enough but you know your words ease his tortured mind a little.

"She was just a kid..." He whispers and you reach over stroking his back.

"I know..."

Daryl came back for you when the farm was engulfed in flames. He came back for you on his motorcycle, at first you watched him ride away with Carol and you ran for your life, for a second you came to think you wouldn't make it out of there, but you heard the engine in the distance and your legs ran faster towards the road. When you were in a safe place, Daryl got off the bike, examining your body.

"Bites? Scratches?"

"No, no, I'm fine."

"Don't ever leave my side again." It almost sounded more like a plea than a command.

You two never put a name to what began to emerge between you, your feelings were changing too, you fell in love with him, with the way he cared for you, protected you without saying it, looked out for everyone, became the guardian of the group when Rick was not fit. You created a home in the prison, a place where you felt safe after a long time, with enough supplies and space for all of you to be comfortable. At first Daryl slept in the corridor of the cells, he refused to lock himself in a cage, as the days went by it was more and more difficult to take him out of your cell, out of your bed. Silently, unnoticed, you forged a bond, a strong relationship, where you both opened up to each other telling each other things from before the fall of the world, Daryl told you about his shitty childhood, his parents, how he had to survive many things alone, you told him about your own traumas and mistakes made, feeling better after being able to say it out loud, freeing yourselves from burdens of the past.

You never said 'I love you' but you would wake up hugging his chest, or with his arm around your waist, his fingers caressing your belly absentmindedly despite being asleep. Your gazes would connect and you would give each other discreet smiles charged with intense meaning.

Until the Governor arrived, and everything turned to chaos and destruction. The prison fell, you were forced to separate, each of you ran to one side to save your lives. You ran into the forest, dodging the Governor's men.

You were alone.

You tried to go back, you tried to look for your group, you called Daryl until you lost your voice, but nothing helped, it even felt like you were going in circles. You started wandering through the forest looking for help, for your companions, you didn't know how long you had been wandering alone, but you became aware of something that scared you more, if it was possible.

You were pregnant.

Panic set in, you were alone, with hardly any food or water, a baby was growing inside you, you didn't know where you were, you didn't know how to find your friends, Daryl. Every time you thought of the hunter the anguish grew greater. Had he noticed your condition? Maybe that's why he touched and caressed your belly so often, maybe that's why he kissed your belly after sex, but no, it couldn't be. Daryl wasn't one of those people who made the decision for both of us. Especially not something like this.

You doubted very much that Daryl wanted children. Not in the apocalypse, not ever.

Aaron found you when you were four months along. Even today you're not sure how you could wander so long alone, not meeting anyone you knew, but Georgia is huge and walking sometimes even goes in circles. The man was going with his partner, Eric, they came from a well organized community, with walls, with life, you couldn't believe it, even when you got there your eyes were amazed at what they were seeing. It really was a huge community, everyone had their lives, their assigned tasks, everyone was useful and everyone lived in peace. You ate well, you slept, a doctor examined you just to relieve your anguish, your baby was fine, despite your poor nutritional capacity, the fetus did not present any problems. You asked for Rick, for Daryl, for the group in general, but no one had seen them.

Despite living surrounded by the best comforts you could wish for in a long time, you were not happy, you were missing your companions, the father of your baby. You missed Daryl, you couldn't imagine how much. He had become such a part of you that it hurt just to think of what could have happened to them.

"I'll find them." Aaron promised you one day. "My duty is to find good people for our community and your group is extraordinary." He smiled and stroked your baby's tiny little hand. "I will bring Daryl back to you."

His promises gave you hope, though you never reproached him for failing at every attempt. It wasn't his obligation, it was possible they were far away from there, it was possible they had died trying to escape the Governor. There were many scenarios in your mind and the vast majority were not encouraging. It wasn't Aaron's fault and you knew it.

You wake up early that morning to the babbling of your child. You smile and walk over to his crib checking to make sure he is okay, he smiles animatedly waving his little arms in the air wanting to play. His intense blue eyes squeeze your heart. He is the spitting image of his father. Carefully you pick him up and sit on the edge of the bed to feed him, rocking him with infinite affection as you hum a soft song, you've never been good at it, but to your surprise it always soothed him.

"Aaron and Eric are back!" You hear in the street suddenly. "They're coming with more people!"

You tense momentarily and your little one protests in your arms. They've found more survivors, it's wonderful news, more people safe within those walls. Your heart flutters in your chest with happiness and with hope. Carefully you pick up the baby and put him back in the crib.

"Mommy now come back, be good." You ask, he stammers and waves his hands, but stays calm. You smile kissing his blond hair and hurry out of the house.

At a brisk pace you head towards the front door, you hear a lot of whispering. Apparently it's a large group, with women and some children, Eric is hurt, whatever happened, Aaron's husband has been hurt badly, although it doesn't seem serious. Before you reach the front door Aaron appears in your field of vision. For a second you panic as you weren't expecting it, but he has a huge smile plastered on his face, his eyes shine brightly and he hugs you so tightly that for a second you think you're going to suffocate to death.

"Aaron..."

"I found him." He says matter-of-factly and your heart stops.

When Aaron releases you your eyes fall on the group being discreetly surrounded by the people of Alexandria, giving them their space, but alert in case something unpleasant should happen. The first one you recognize is Rick, as always leading the group, his sheriff's clothes getting more battered every day but still having that respectful effect on the people, next to him is michonne who refuses to let go of his sword, Glenn and Maggie follow, Carl and Judith with the others. God, they've grown so much since you last saw them. But then you see him.

Daryl.

Closing the group, his crossbow in his hands, watching everything, making sure how many people are there, studying all the weak spots in the place, memorizing the possible ways out. His hair is much longer since the last time you saw each other in the prison, with his inseparable vest, his gesture is broken into a grimace of seriousness and sadness, you're not sure what he's been through, but it's clear he's still getting over it. Everyone has seen you, but no one moves, despite the desire you have to hug each other, they know they are not a priority. You advance a few steps and Daryl finally detects your presence.

It is a strange situation, you both feel as if everything around you suddenly stops. Your gazes meet and Daryl stops. He opens his eyes wide and you see him call out your name although no sound reaches your ears. It's as if he sees a ghost. You take another step forward, but you stop, fear gripping you. What if he's not happy to see you? What if he didn't mind losing you? What happens now? Your baby, how are you going to tell him that? What if he doesn't want to know? Now that you've found him, you don't want to lose him, but suddenly you feel so scared that you don't realize that Daryl has dropped his gun and is running straight for you. His body crashes into yours like a train, his strong arms wrap around your body and squeeze you against him, he lifts you off the ground a few inches to pull you back down, you feel him hug you so tightly that he's choking you too, but you don't care. You're on cloud nine. His smell, his warmth, his touch send you to another state, that mixture of forest, cigarettes and his own body odor makes you shiver and then you are aware of how much you wanted to see him.

And you cry.

You hug him as tightly as your trembling arms will allow, emotion and nervousness leaving you limp as your tears spill over your eyes uncontrollably. You feel him rocking you as he repeats your name over and over, as if he wants to make sure you are alive, that you are not an illusion. He breaks away from you to look at you and you discover that he too is letting silent tears flow. He rests his forehead against yours and closes his eyes for a second. He himself is struggling with his own anxiety, his own despair, you caress his cheeks and kiss his lips. Daryl kisses you with the same intensity, holding you by the nape of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. There is need and fear in every kiss you give each other, joy and hope, the nervousness that invades you both mixes with every caress you offer each other, you are both trembling, worried that when you open your eyes, it will all disappear. When you finally separate for air, your gazes mingle again, you smile and try to calm all the emotions that keep invading you, Daryl lowers his head for a second and you feel his hands ball into fists.

"I'm sorry... I couldn't find ya..." He whispers. "I thought I'd lost ya..."

"I'm here, Daryl, you didn't lose me...I'm here." You assure him by kissing and hugging him again.

The whole group joins your embrace now, after giving you time to meet again, they also want to be part of it, to know what happened to you. There is not much time to tell anything, Deanna immediately intervenes. There is a protocol in the community, everyone must go through a small interview where the woman will decide what to do with them and what position each of them will be able to occupy.

"Go with them." You tell Daryl who refuses to let go of you. "They are good people, trust me." You ask him and smile. "I have to go get..." You keep quiet because you don't know if it's the best time to tell him, but Daryl nods his head.

"Okay, I trust ya." He looks at you intensely and you kiss one more time before walking with the rest of the group to the main house.

You don't know what to do, you watch your little one rest in the crib, oblivious to all the doubts that come over you. Maybe it's too hasty, maybe it's not the best moment, you've just met again, but you can't hide it forever, Daryl has the right to know. You sigh and take the little one in your arms leaving your house to go and look for Daryl. Surely the group is still going on with Deanna's interviews, so you have time to think about what to say.

When you get there everyone is surprised to see you show up with a baby in your arms, but again they are not the ones to say anything, you look for Daryl and see him in Deanna's office, he is with the interview, but he clearly wants to get out of there as soon as possible. You smile and walk into the room. Daryl looks at you again and surprise comes over him. Ignoring the woman and the camera he approaches you again. He frowns slightly, the baby looks up at you with its huge eyes and seems nervous. You scan his face with your gaze, his blond hair, his blue eyes, he even has a small mole on his lip. He gets goose bumps and his heart races. He looks at you biting his lip, raises his hands nervously, but stops.

"His name is Bowie..." You say blushing. "I remembered your knife and thought... I don't know..." You shrug feeling stupid. "Y-you want to take him?"

"I-I'm dirty, I ain't wanna..." He tries to excuse himself, but when he moves his hands close to the baby, he raises his hand grabbing one of his fingers.

Silence falls over you, it's almost as if you find it hard to breathe. Bowie babbles and squeals in amusement trying to squeeze his father's finger in his little hand. Daryl's heart melts by the minute and finally he dares to take him in his arms, rocking him gently, tilting his head and kissing the soft tangle of hair on his head. A feeling of joy very similar to when he first held Judith floods him, but this time more intense, for this baby is his. It is his child.

"Ya went through all this by yerself...I'm sorry." He apologizes again as he becomes aware, you shake your head and try to control the tears again, but seeing Daryl with the baby in his arms, Bowie has recognized his father by instinct. It's getting to be too much for you.

"It wasn't your fault, Daryl and I wasn't alone...Aaron came out to get you every day..." You tell him and wipe away your tears. "I knew we'd eventually find each other again."

Daryl holds the baby with one hand against his chest, with the other he wraps his hand around your body and hugs you, the three of you stay melted like that for a while, just enjoying each other's presence.

Even though there are things that still need to be clarified, that night you enjoy a welcome dinner, the whole group and the people of Alexandria, there is enough food and drink for everyone, there is joy, laughter, chilling anecdotes and at the same time relief to know that everything has gone well. It's a crowded party and you feel a bit overwhelmed, but you are grateful that they make the effort to stay and meet the people who have given you a home. They tell you what it was like to escape from prison, the loss of Tyreese, of Beth, how they found Father Gabriel, you hug and comfort Maggie as remembering her sister still hurts, you shed some tears too, for Beth was an innocent soul who didn't deserve to die so soon. They tell you how they found Abraham and his group and you thank them for helping them escape, even if it was based on Eugene's lies.

The party drags on, but you have to feed Bowie and put him to bed, it's too late for him. You look at Daryl and stroke his arm to get his attention.

"I'm going to take Bowie home, if you want later you can come over..."

"I'm coming with ya." He cuts you off and shakes his head. "C-can I take him back?" He asks you and you laugh low.

"Of course."

You walk in silence towards your house, Daryl carries the boy who is already uncomfortable, he's awake since very early and starts to get hungry, which makes him protest and cry in his father's arms, but Daryl doesn't panic, he rocks him and whispers softly against his ear wanting to calm him down.

"That's it, champ, we're home, now mommy will feed ya." He promises him in soft words and you smile tenderly.

You open the door to your house indicating to Daryl where the living room is, you both walk in and sit down on the couch, Daryl hands Bowie back to you and you unbutton your shirt so the baby can teat. Daryl is sitting next to you and his gaze is intense on you.

"I'd almost say I'm jealous..." He mumbles and a giggle escapes you.

"Daryl's a baby..."

"I know..." He whispers looking away to look at you and kiss you.

Daryl became a very physical person with you, from the first day he tasted your skin at the CDC he was drawn to your touch and taste, he wished he could touch you and have you whenever he could. Now, after all, he still feels the same, but it's not just a physical need, he has the urge not to let go of you, he's afraid to do so and that you might disappear again. He examines every move you make, your mute invitation to accompany him into the room when Bowie falls limp in his arms, he follows you silently and you both wish the baby who is already far away a good night.

Daryl looks at you and a new nervousness comes over you. You have changed. Your body has changed. Your dimensions and your skin are not the same after giving birth. You are afraid that Daryl will see you naked and not find you attractive. You try to pretend you are fine, but at the same time you put distance between you. You grab some clothes ready to change somewhere else.

"I'm going to get you some clothes to sleep in..." You try to excuse yourself, but as you pass by his side, Daryl grabs you and hugs you. His chest pressed against your back.

"Y'think I dunno what's goin' on? Y'think I haven't figured out what yer hiding from me?" he whispers soothingly in your ear and you shiver. You feel his hands caress your hips, move up to your belly, his fingers unbutton your shirt, one of his hands slips between your legs and squeezes your core. You gasp and close your eyes. "I showed ya my scars, I told ya my stories and ya never judged me..." He whispers in your ear. "Why are ya ashamed of yer body when it gave us something as perfect as Bowie?"

"Daryl..." You feel your eyes fill with tears again.

"I've missed ya..." He whispers again and you feel him kiss your neck.

It's not the words that make you give in, it's how he says them, there's a tinge of need, relief and hope in them that melts you and you let Daryl undress you, caress every corner of your skin, he runs his fingertips over all the stretch marks that have marked your body, your belly and wrinkled navel that makes you shudder wanting to stop him, but he breaks free following his path down your body to your chest, you hiss and he stops.

"Do they hurt?" he asks you brushing against the areolas of your nipples.

"Your son isn't very careful when he eats..." You joke and hear him laugh behind you.

"Like his father, then." You want to respond but his words are laden with such intense promise that it nips your words in the bud.

You can't say for sure what makes that moment special and different. Maybe it's the time you've been apart, maybe it's all the emotions you were holding back that are now finally coming to light, maybe it's your own need to have him with you, but everything becomes slower, more intense. Daryl's weight on you, the burning touch of his hands, the wetness of his mouth running over your skin, even when he loses himself between your legs and his tongue slips inside you feel like you're about to explode. You do your best to stifle your moans so as not to wake your son, but Daryl is also doing his best to make you lose your mind. Your bodies melt together, your insides welcome Daryl as if he had never left, you both move at the same time, your moans echo in the room along with your sighs of pleasure, your sweat mingles and your names escape each other's mouths as the climax hits you violently leaving you exhausted.

Still feeling the frantic beat of your heart you embrace Daryl's body who traps you in his arms and kisses the top of your head.

"I love you..." You confess for the first time since you started to have feelings for him.

"I love you too..." He replies and that surprises you.

Nevertheless you smile and kiss him before hugging him again. For the first time, maybe since before the world fell, you feel complete.

The End...

I hope you enjoyed it!!

“What are you playing at!” he yelled, grabbing the sides of your face in his palms. His face glistened with sweat, and his hair was disheveled from battle. Across the breastplate of his armor, you saw several swipes of blood, and you noticed he was limping ever so slightly. He surveyed you from head to toe, taking in the sight of you in your unvarnished silver armor.

“Out of my way, Commander,” you snarled, making to move towards the open door. There were distant sounds of combat in the castle.

“You’re not going anywhere, y/n” Cahir snarled. His voice was quieter now, softer somehow, but still shaking with barely controlled emotion. It enraged you. You shot him a murderous look, your grip tightening like a vice on the hilt of your sword.

“I should ask you what you’re playing at, Cahir,” you spat back. You could feel the bitterness you’d swallowed down for the last year and a half until you’d almost choked on it bubbling up like boiling acid on your tongue. “You are neither my commander, nor my lover. I see no reason at all for you to concern yourself with my well-being.”

Your words landed heavily, and despite the intensifying din of battle in the halls outside your chambers, the silence between you was thick enough to suffocate in. Cahir took in a few heaving breaths as he returned your fiery gaze. The anger that had burned in his chocolate eyes when he’d first burst into the room was now replaced by something deeper. You had the unsettling sensation that you were looking into a bottomless chasm in his gaze, and you found you had to avert your eyes. Tears of anger clawed at your throat, and you clenched your jaw against them. You refused to cry - again - in front of this man.

The silence stretched longer between you. For an instant, you’d hoped he would say something. You would have settled for anything: him scolding you, him admitting you were right, an apology, a muttered plea for you not to fight, a command for you to leave with the rest of the ladies of the court through the secret tunnels. But it was becoming increasingly apparent that he was going to let you suffocate in his indifferent silence.

Disgusted with yourself for harboring a vain hope that maybe, just maybe, you’d see a flicker of the love he’d once held for you in this final goodbye, you shook your head and stepped again towards the door. Battle would do you a bit of good; death would save you the embarrassment of having to see him again, you thought darkly.

Before you’d taken a step, though, you felt his fingers come to rest feather-lightly on your wrist. His eyes bored into the floor, but his breathing was still ragged. You stopped, stunned.

“I still care for you,” he mumbled, so quietly you thought you’d misheard him. You took a stuttering step backwards. His fingers gripped your wrist more tightly, and he forced his eyes up to meet yours. You were dumbfounded to see tears pooling at his lash line, the mask of rage he’d worn a moment before now completely dissolved. All you saw now was desperation. You knew it well; you’d felt it ever since he’d cast you off for his mysterious lover in Aretuza. Your mouth fell open in a small ‘o’ as your heart threatened to break free of your ribs.

Almost as quickly as the moment had come, it was lost as the chaos of combat burst into your chamber. Three of Cahir’s men were pressed hotly by four of the invaders. One of Cahir’s men was bleeding freely from a spear in his thigh, and his face was a sickly shade of yellowish white as he struggled to stay upright. His comrades had the sluggish, delayed movements of soldiers long exhausted and at the edge of collapse as they parried against the vicious sword strokes of their opponents.

You and Cahir sprang into action quickly. Cahir, still keeping his grip on your wrist, pulled you behind him as he spun around, all signs of his limp gone. He raised his sword to connect with an opponent’s, the jarring metal-on-metal twang setting your teeth on edge. His men fell in line with him, emboldened by the sight of their commander, and pressed back on the enemies with renewed vigor.

The soldier with the spear protruding from his thigh, however, was too grievously injured to be of any use to the battle. You set to purpose as you saw the man sink to his knees. Looping your hands under his armpits, you dragged him backwards from the heavy fighting until he could lean against the back wall of your chamber. He was paler now, and you knew he was moments from bleeding out. You knelt beside him, looking into his eyes. He was young - no more than seventeen, you realized with a pang of grief - and he looked frightened. His eyes searched yours frantically as he struggled to remain conscious.

Gently, you laid one of your hands along his cheek, smiling sweetly at him in what you hoped was a calm and reassuring way.

“Sssh now,” you murmured gently. “Rest here awhile.” The boy’s eyes glazed over, but you saw the fear evaporate in them as he let out one final sighed breath before falling still. Allowing yourself one brief moment of repose, you closed his eyelids and sent a prayer to the Gods for his soul.

You could spare no more than that, however, before you felt the press of combat behind your back. Rising to your feet and turning to face your assailants, you saw Cahir step between you and one of the enemy about to strike you, his eyes blazing with ferocity as he drove his sword hilt-deep into the man’s gut. The man let out a gurgled cry of pain as blood pooled in his mouth, spilling down his chin as his eyes fogged over and death took him.

From the doorway at the opposite end of the room, you saw with a sinking sensation in your chest that three more men ran in to join the melee, and the crest emblazoned on their chests was not that of your country. Down now to you, Cahir, and the other two soldiers – weakened and exhausted – you felt a grim sense of determination seep into your muscles. There was now no hope of beating the enemy; your only chance was to hold them off and wait for reinforcements, although you weren’t certain any would come.

You stepped forward, now shoulder to shoulder with Cahir, your sword drawn as you proceeded to engage one of the newly entered enemies. He was, thankfully, a slender man and the sword arm of his light blue tunic was soaked with blood from a gash in his shoulder.

Sensing an opportunity, you struck out with your sword, making contact with his shoulder close to his existing wound. He recoiled in pain, his arm falling limply, his sword along with it. He reflexively dropped the shield in his other hand to grasp at his wounded shoulder. In an instant, you saw your chance, and he saw his mistake. He tried to summon what little strength he had left in his sword arm to block the thrust of your blade, but he was not quick enough. You sliced the killing edge of your weapon decisively against his throat, and you did not need to watch the life extinguish in his eyes to know that it was a mortal blow.

“Y/N! No!”

In the same moment you heard Cahir’s shriek of fear, you saw the blur out of the corner of your eye. Raising your sword high over your head, you pivoted to face the oncoming assailant, but this time it was you who was too slow. You felt your enemy’s blade sink into your side, grating against your ribs with a sickening crunch. Your entire body erupted into blistering, white hot pain. Disoriented, you sank to your knees as your opponent withdrew his blade. Through the haze of pain and your blurred eyes, you felt Cahir straddle over you as you crumpled to the ground and lock sword with the man who’d stuck you with staggering ferocity.

You fought to keep from sliding into darkness as you pawed aimlessly at the wound on your side. You’d been a medic in the army of Nilfgaard long before you’d learned how to fight, and you’d seen enough wounds to know this would kill you. Gingerly, you looked down at your hands. The blood staining your palms and armor was so dark it was almost black; another sign of your pending death. As if from far away, your mind considered the scene with a scientific dispassion.

The sounds of battle above you mingled with the sounds of Cahir’s guttural screaming as he plowed onward into the fray, hacking and slashing with animalistic brutality. The soldier who’d dealt your destiny fell in a dull thud, bleeding out from a rib-to-sternum gash Cahir had dealt him.

The ceiling of your chamber rippled as parts of your mind sank under the surface of unconsciousness. The pain was strangely gone now, and your whole body felt cold. You focused only on your breathing - ragged and irregular. That distant, observing piece of your mind begged you to hold on. For what exactly, you weren’t sure…

Moments slid by. Time felt warped. You weren’t sure how long you forced labored breaths in and out of your body, and you couldn’t tell anymore if the sounds of combat were indeed less now or if you were simply losing grasp of your senses. Your sight seemed to fade in and out, like a fire whipped almost to the point of being extinguished by a cold wind.

Suddenly, you registered something. A change in your body’s position. You blinked sluggishly, trying to force your mind to read the scene in front of your eyes. A face, brown eyes. They were looking into yours, tears spilling from them down strongly cut cheekbones. A handsome mouth twisted into a cry of pain.

Cahir, the distant part of your mind called to you. The name echoed in your head.

“Cahir,” you managed to choke out hoarsely. He sobbed in a mixture of relief and grief to see you still clinging feebly to life.

“My love, don’t go. Please, no. Y/n, no.” His words were a senseless string of babbling pleading as he tenderly removed your helmet, brushing your mussed hair from the sides of your face. His touch had a strange quality to it: it felt as if his two hands were in fact a million, caressing over every square inch of your form instead of just your hairline and temples - the result of your quickly fading faculties, no doubt.

“We didn’t have enough time,” he wept, his voice fracturing and his eyes burning with tears as he gently cradled your head in his lap. He could see the bright hues of your irises dulling to the distinctive dark gray shade indicative of death. He had only moments now. You smiled weakly up at him, your eyes adrift as your gaze faded in and out of focus. “I can’t live without you. I love you,” he whimpered, his head bowing against your chest.

Your last remaining flicker of comprehension processed his words. Marshaling what little strength you had left, you forced words out of your throat. You hoped they were intelligible - your tongue felt swollen and thick and it wouldn’t cooperate with your lips.

“With my death today, you’ll start a new life tomorrow.” It was a line from an ancient Redanian prayer your mother used to recite with you each night when you were younger. It wasn’t something you thought of often, but it surfaced from the sinking recesses of your memory now, at the doorstep of death.

Cahir lifted his head from your chest, struggling to put space between his sobs as he looked into your fading eyes.

“Even if I had a thousand lifetimes to live, the one I lived with you would be my best,” he whispered fervently. It was the traditional Redanian response to the prayer for the dying, which Cahir hadn’t realized you’d known. He realized now that he would never know the full extent of what you’d heard, seen, felt, or loved in your life. There was no way to ask you, no way to tell you of his feelings, no way to share a sunrise or a meal or a winter’s storm together. There would be nothing new for the two of you; you’d live now only in Cahir’s memories.

Cahir leaned down to kiss your lips one last time while they were still warm with life. He felt something deep inside him splinter as he did so. His hands shook and he felt as if he were collapsing in a hole that had opened in the center of his chest.

When he looked back up to your eyes, he saw you were gone. He wished for a great many things, and the weight of those wishes crumbled into that single moment took his breath away. He wished he’d never left you, he wished he’d never lied to you about giving his heart away, he wished he hadn’t taught you to fight, he wished for another day, another moment with you, one more chance to hear your voice, to see the sunlight in your hair, to feel your body under his.