#ken roy

Kendall gives no indication that he heard you; no vague grunt or shift in movement. He just lays there--the blanket covering everything below his nose as his eyes stay closed. He isn't sleeping, you've been married to him long enough that his shuddering breaths and still as stone rigid posture was a poor attempt to convince you otherwise.

It’s like he thinks the blanket is the only thing holding him together. Like if he leaves that spot he’ll crumble to pieces right in front of you.

Your heart drops just looking at him. Being away from the city had obviously done some good, along with his month long visit to rehab, but Ken was still…healing.

You kiss his forehead before leaving, telling your disappointed daughter that daddy wouldn't be joining you today.

"It's one of daddy's bad days?" She asks once you feet hit the sand. Her childish voice laced with her innocence almost makes you tear up.

"It is, sweetie..." You nod, before quickly distracting her with placing your towels down and bringing out water bottles from her little pink lunchbox.

The ocean is what occupies her little body for the first hour or so. She jumps over the little waves and collects sea shells. Like what any parent would do, you snap photos of her with the biggest grin on her face.

Eventually, though, the two of you end up in the sand, using her plastic bucket and shovel to build a castle fit for a queen. She's actually not half bad, you notice, as the usual clumsy movements of a toddler are no longer present when she details her sandcastle.

“How’re my girls?”

You look up from the sand beneath your fingers to see your husband, clad in shorts and t-shirt.

“Daddy!” Your daughter shrieks, practically stomping all over the sandcastle the two of you were working on to get to Kendall.

She hugs his knees, squeezing them between her little arms, and he crouches down to hug her back.

Your husband smiles and it’s enough to convince your daughter—but not you.

He's tired, you notice; though it wouldn't take a rocket scientist to figure that one out. At just a glance it looks as if your husband has aged 50 years in six months. His eyes are sunken, not mention the dullness of his usually bright brown eyes. Kendall's normally sun-kissed skin now a deathly grey, which makes sense, he has barely left your bedroom much less the house. It’s almost as if someone had taken a spoon and hollowed out everything that made him human. Frown lines are etched into his face, your heart almost shatters at the overpowering aura of sadness and despair surrounding him.

Six months isn't enough time to wash away the years at Waystar.

You smile at him as your daughter takes his hand and drags him to the crumbling sandcastle.

Once he sits down he kisses you, placing a large hand on the side on your face. You taste the mint of the mouthwash he must've just used before his trek down here. Kissing Kendall was addicting, it always was, but with your daughter's groan of disgust you slowly pull away from him.

"Oh don't be like that kiddo, that's just what mommies and daddies do when they're in love." Kendall teases, ruffling her hair in the process.

She sticks her tongue out before turning her attention back on the ruins of the castle in front of her. Instead of crying about the state of it, she happily starts rebuilding with the help of you and Ken.

One eye never leaves his figure.

This sort of mood swing isn’t uncommon, for years you’ve experienced Kendall’s drastic moods, but this certainly wasn’t one of his highs.

The sandcastle slowly morphs into a sandkingdom; once she starts she never wants to stop. That is, until your daughter finally gets tired after the sun sets and she curls into Kendall’s lap.

You know you should get back to the house, it’s late, but it’s just too peaceful out here, alone on the beach.

Careful not to stir the little girl in his lap, Kendell leans his head on your shoulder, shifting closer to your warm figure. The stars flicker above you--a sight you almost never saw in the city. You take a deep breath before kissing your husband's recently buzzed head. Kendall hums, nuzzling even closer into you, like he was trying to burrow underneath your skin so you never had to leave him.

"I love you, Kendall. And we're ok." You whisper, the words getting eaten by the crashing waves just feet away from the two of you. Still, he hears you, you can tell by the sniffle against your shirt. Your daughter groans in her sleep, shifting.

He swallows roughly at your words.

“I’m so sorry, (Y/n)…I fucked it.” Ken chokes out quietly, trying not to disturb the child. “I fucked it and I’m broken.”

His tears seep into your shirt. You angle your head down, your nose brushing against the top of his head.

"Oh Ken honey..." Your own lip wobbles at your husband's vulnerability. "You're not broken...you were never broken..."

"Then I'm--I'm fucking cracked, (Y/n)! I'm just not whole anymore! I don’t know if I ever was!"

Thoughts race through your head. Kendall had been doing better. He was consistent with taking his meds and he went to therapy every week. What if he tried to--? You clutch him closer to you, trying not to make yourself spiral when Kendall needed you.

His body shakes with silent sobs, your daughter still peacefully sleeping, unaware of the world around her.

The cool ocean breeze dances across your skin. You take a deep breath.

"Have you ever heard of kintsugi, Ken?"

"What? I'm having a complete breakdown and you're asking me about whatever the fuck that is?" He huffs, annoyed.

"Just listen to me Ken, it'll go somewhere." You kiss the top of his head to comfort his suddenly tense figure beside you. He eases at the contact. "I read in some stupid magazine that it's a Japanese technique where they repaired broken pots and stuff with gold." Kendall lifts his head to look at you. His eyes are red with unshed tears and his eyebrows are furrowed, listening to you. "They were made whole again; made more beautiful and were stronger than before."

Kendall purses his lips as you bring a hand up to stroke his tear stained cheek. Your other hand lightly strokes through your daughter's hair, careful not to rouse her.

"We'll be your gold, Kendall."

All at once the tension leaves his body, tears cascading down his face. His once dimly lit eyes brighten to reflect the stars above.

"Right," He nods, almost like he doesn't know how to respond to what you just said. "My gold..." His eyes flick between you and your daughter before his head settles back onto your shoulder, almost as if he couldn't take anymore emotions for the day.

You sigh, leaning your own head against his. Closing your eyes, you let the sound of the waves wash over the otherwise silent night.

The stars still shine above you and the saltiness of the ocean tinges the air.

You were all going to be alright.