#pedro pascal characters

What Grows From Goodbye: Chapter One

12:42 PM.

That’s what time it is.

Joel was supposed to be here almost fifteen minutes ago. The here you’re talking about is a building labelled MASON & HART FAMILY LAW. The sign was mounted against a brick building that looked like it was renovated sometime in the eighties, but the interior is much more modern with narrow windows and a glass doorway that showed the parking lot back to you.

You’ve been staring at the doorway for the better part of fifteen minutes.

Not because you found anything interesting about it. There really wasn’t. But because you were waiting for Joel to show up. Inside, your gaze settles on a woman in a cream blouse sitting on one of the chairs beside a man dressed in a suit, the two of them barely talking, if at all. The tension between them was palpable and familiar. Because you experienced some form of it too. Soon, a lawyer walks over; she’s on the younger side but escorts them to her office.

People are getting divorced. And you hate that you’re one of them.

You always believed that when you married, it'd be for good.

Granted, you know that there'll be arguments, misunderstandings, and bargaining to settle things between you and your significant other.

With you and Joel, the beginning was easy.

You had just started working as a waitress in a local diner in the town. Willow's Café. You know the customers, their usuals, and get along with the staff.

That's how you met Joel.

He was a usual when you started working at the café, along with his brother Tommy and daughter Sarah. You knew their order before you properly knew their names. You let out a sigh before your eyes dropped to your watch again.

Fire in My Lungs -SMUT

“On the bed,” you said. “On your back.”

He obeyed. That little flicker again—the way his pupils dilated when you ordered him. He stretched out, one arm behind his head, watching you strip the rest of the way. When you crawled up between his legs he exhaled like he’d been holding his breath.

You kissed the inside of his thigh first. Then higher. Nuzzled the soft skin of his balls, breathing him in—salt and musk and pure Joel. Your tongue dragged up the length of his cock in one long, wet stripe. He cursed.

“Gonna put that pretty mouth on me?” His hand found your hair, not pushing yet, just resting. “Been waitin’ all day to feel that throat.”

You licked the head, tasting the bead of precum, then took him in. Slow at first—just the tip, lips stretching around the thickness. Then deeper. You worked him with tongue and suction, bobbing until saliva slicked the shaft and dripped down onto his balls. Joel’s thighs tensed. His breathing went ragged.

“That’s it… fuck, look at you. Suckin’ me like you were made for it.” His fingers tightened in your hair. “Take more. C’mon, baby. Open up for me.”

You did. Relaxed your throat and pushed down until your nose brushed the dark hair at the base. Joel groaned, low and wrecked. He held you there for a second—not forcing, just feeling the way your throat fluttered around him—then let you pull back for air. Strings of spit connected your lips to his cock.

“Again,” he said, voice rough. “Wanna feel you choke on it.”

You took him deeper this time. He helped—gentle pressure on the back of your head, guiding you down until your eyes watered and your throat worked around the thick intrusion. He didn’t slam; just held you there while you struggled to breathe through your nose, then eased up so you could gasp. The second you recovered, he pushed back in, a little firmer, fucking your mouth in shallow, controlled thrusts.

Ghosts of a Past: Chapter Two

The two of you walk down the front steps and down the road that leads to Valaries school. You’re quiet. Quieter than normal, and Joel was concerned about you. But after the other day, your father storming down the street, Val in hand, he didn’t have to think much of what was going on with you.

He bumps his shoulder with yours, drawing your attention to him, “Think you can hang out with Tommy ‘n I think weekend?”

“Can’t,” you sigh, adjusting the strap of your backpack that didn’t need to be fixed. “Someone’s gotta watch Val and I don’t want her home alone with him.”

“How bad is it Vic?”

“What?”

“Your old man,” he specifies, gently taking your wrists into his hands, stopping you both in your steps.

“You can’t do anything ‘bout it,” you say, shaking your head before looking at him. “An’ you have enough to deal with at home too.”

He falls quiet, slightly nodding once you point that out. He never told you outright that he has a complicated relationship with his own father. That’s how you ended up being close with him. You were surrounded by friends who didn’t really pay attention to what was going on with you. Not that you can blame them. Everyone’s going through their own pain that they tend to ignore the pain others go through.

But not with Joel. He let you talk about your pain, and you let him talk about his.

“I wish I could save you from it,” he finally says, his voice quiet.

“You are.”

Dancing the Pain Away

"You don't have to go, you know," you remind him. Which earns you a scoff, and you roll your eyes.

You know what he's thinking.

Being as well known as he is, his presence was basically a necessity. He'd hear the talk if he didn't attend, and he'd hear the talk if he went alone. Either way, he was bound to be the subject of conversation one way or the other.

"I'd rather deal with all that crap with you around," he finally says. With how long you've known Harry, he wasn't the type to lay out what he feels on a silver platter for all to see.

He found love and feeling difficult.

Which is why his relationship with Lucy surprised you. But, despite what you felt, you were happy for him. That is, until you heard about the engagement being broken off.

"Why do you only call me when there's no other option?" You asked, and right now, you're pretty thankful he didn't choose to do a video call. "There's plenty of other women who'd go with you the second you ask."

"Because I need you."

The line went quiet on both sides, the silence filling the space between you two where normally it would be filled with easy-going conversation. You take a minute longer, biting your lip before letting out a reluctant sigh.

"Fine," you concede, shaking your head the second the words leave your lips.

"Thanks," he says, the relief making his tone sound lighter than it did just a few minutes ago. "I'll pick you up at seven."

Finding Hope in You: Chapter Seven

As your met with the sight of Tommy and Joel walking back to the rendevous, you didn’t see Emma with them and you shook your head, taking a step back, “You didn’t find her.”

“Not yet.”

When Joel saw the hope quickly draining from you, he steps closer to you, shaking his head, “We ain’t gonna stop searchin’ for her,” he promises, bringing a gloved hand against your cheek.

His voice is firm with promise that could’ve easied your worry if was for the fact your mind was running through different possiblities that could’ve happened to her. And desperately wishing that you don’t have to bury another member of your family.

You wouldn’t survive that.

You slowly nod your head, and he pulls you closer. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting out a shaky breath. “She ain’t a stupid kid,” he continues, breath warm against the side of your head, “You raised her well. She’s probably just hidin’ out and waitin’ for you.”

New Headers

You wished you could say things got better, or that even things stayed the same. 

But they didn’t. 

It just got worse. 

Tommy lasted a whole three months before he decided to leave again. You could tell that it hurt Joel, even as Tommy sat the both of you down to let you both know that he was leaving—that he had overstayed his welcome. 

You tried to tell him that he didn’t, that it was nice knowing where he was, that it almost felt like before, but it wasn’t enough. 

Because he wasn’t looking to you for approval, for reassurance. 

Tommy needed to hear it from Joel. He needed to hear his older brother tell him that he could stay as long as he wanted, that it was better with him here, but Joel never did. 

And instead of trying to tell him that it pained him to see Tommy leave, Joel just snarled and agreed that he stayed longer than he should have. 

You had seen the look on Tommy’s face, could see the disappointment all across his features, could see the hurt. 

But you also had seen it on Joel’s face too. 

The way his brows furrowed together and the way his eyes softened just a fraction. He didn’t want to let Tommy go, but he knew that he couldn’t make him stay either. 

And ever since Tommy left, your interactions with Joel became less frequent. 

He even stopped sleeping in the bed with you. You’d catch him on the couch, pills and a half empty bottle of liquor in the table. 

You didn’t know how much more you could handle. You were exhausted trying to live like this—you loved him, you really did, but you weren’t even coexisting with him. 

It didn’t even feel like you were both roommates. 

It was like he wasn’t even aware that you were there anymore. 

And yet, he still got up every morning to do a job or go on a run with Tess. 

“Are you really leaving?” You asked Tommy. He hadn’t been with the Fireflies since he left the apartment, but you knew that he was trying to decide what his next move was. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” 

“Do you think we’d have survived this long if we never came here?” It had been on your mind for a while now. Boston was supposed to be different—it was supposed to be a different life than the one you were leading out on the road. 

Tommy shrugged again. “Do you blame me? For bringing us here?” 

You sighed. “We all made a choice, Tommy. You didn’t force us here. Joel made a choice. I made a choice.” 

“But it was my suggestion.”

“I don’t blame you,” you answered. “But sometimes, I do wish we never came here.” 

“Is he—is he still going out on runs with Tess?” 

You nodded. You knew you had nothing to be jealous about—Tess would never do that to you, but it still hurt knowing that he’d rather be out there with her than be with you here within these gates. “Honestly, I think he spends more of his time with her than he does with me.” 

Tommy sighed. “You know you’re always gonna be the woman he chooses.”

“I don’t know about that anymore, Tommy. These days… we don’t even talk and we live with each other. He doesn’t touch me. He rarely looks at me, and—” You felt your breath catch in your throat as you looked away. “If you leave… if you decide to go, what would you say if I asked you to take me with you?” 

He looked at you with slightly wide eyes. “I can’t do that. Joel will… he’d kill me.” 

“If you don’t take me… I’ll find my own way,” you mumbled. 

“You wouldn’t think of leaving him… would you?” 

Tears pooled at your eyes. “I love him, Tommy. I always will, you know that, but staying… it’s hurting me more.” 

“Have you tried talking to him?” 

You blinked your tears away. “Yes,” you answered. “You think I’d want to leave him if I didn’t at least try?” 

Tommy sighed. “M’sorry. I didn’t mean—”

“I don’t blame you for coming here, for being here in this QZ,” you interrupted. “But I do blame myself for not saying anything sooner.”

“Okay,” he whispered. “You can come with me… but just know, you’re gonna be breakin’ his heart.” 

You nodded. “But what about me? What if he’s already broken mine?” 

Joel stumbled into the empty apartment with a groan. His back hurt and he tossed the small ziploc bag onto the table as he went to retrieve the bottle of alcohol. He looked around, biting his lower lip in hopes that you’d be there, but you weren’t. He knew you weren’t. 

Ever since Tommy left, Joel started working more. He was putting his body through hell—going on runs and doing jobs everyday. He barely slept, but he also couldn’t bring himself up to coming to you either. 

And he knew you waited for him. You’d keep the bedroom door open for him, but he never did step past that threshold. It had been months since he held you in his arms, since he felt your body against his own. 

But he knew that it was taking a toll on you. When you weren’t looking, he’d catch the way your eyes glossed over with tears or how the pain and disappointment etched on your features. He wasn’t sure what hurt more—the fact that he couldn’t physically bring himself to hold you or the fact that he’d gotten used to seeing the sadness on your face. 

Joel kicked off his boots and sat back against the sofa, hand coming up to his face to pinch the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted, and not just physically, but mentally too. Since his panic attack, he’d been trying to shift his focus on anything else. He’d also been relying on the pills he smuggled and the alcohol to cloud his thoughts and numb the pain he felt everyday. 

He pulled the note from his pocket—he had been carrying it around wherever he went: Whatever happens, we do it together. Like we always do. I love you, baby. 

Joel would read the last four words repeatedly. He read it over and over again until he felt his eyelids grow heavy. He moved to instead lie back on the couch, gripping the note close against his chest as sleep finally took over him. 

He just hoped that his dreams—or nightmares—wouldn’t wake him up for a while. 

“You don’t even want to go,” Sarah grumbled. “There will already be enough chaperones, dad.” 

Joel leaned against her doorway, watching his babygirl get ready for her first middle school dance. She would be going with friends—thank God—but Joel had been quick to volunteer to chaperone and luckily, you’d be right there with him to make sure nothing inappropriate would happen with Sarah. 

“Hey, I do want to go,” Joel said, arms crossed over his chest. “But I promise… I ain’t gonna bother you. It’ll be like I ain’t even there.” 

Sarah groaned. “You promise?” 

Joel smiled, watched her stand from her desk to grab her purple dress from the bed. “Yes, babygirl. I promise.” 

“But she’s coming too?” Sarah asked, voice a bit more hopeful now. 

“Oh, so it’s okay for her to go, but not me?” He teased, a smile curling his lips. 

“Well… she’s cool,” Sarah said, almost like he should have already known that. 

Joel narrowed his eyes. “You know, I raised you.”

Sarah giggled and turned to look over at him. “I know,” she said, dimples deep on her cheeks. “And I love you, but… you’re my dad.” 

“And that makes me uncool?” 

Her laughter grew louder. Joel loved the sound of it. His lips pulled into a bigger smile. 

“It makes you… not as cool as her.” 

Joel chuckled. “Okay, okay. I agree, she is pretty cool.” 

Sarah’s laughter died down, but she still had the large grin on her lips. “I gotta get ready. You do too.” 

“Ain’t gonna take me that long to put on a nice shirt and pants,” he shrugged. 

“Dad,” Sarah said, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. “You have to look presentable. So… take a shower. Trim your beard. Wear some cologne.” 

“Fine,” Joel said. “Was gonna do all those things anyway,” he muttered. 

“Uh huh,” Sarah smiled. “Sure.”

Joel watched her with loving eyes for a moment before she disappeared into the bathroom. He sighed contentedly to himself—his babygirl was growing up. 

You hadn’t gone home yet because despite your conversation with Tommy, the thought of leaving Joel made you sick to your stomach. You had been with him all these years and to think that one day he wouldn’t be here because you chose to put yourself first made you feel guilty. How could you live without him? 

You purposefully stayed away from the apartment. You didn’t want to be there if he wasn’t there… and part of you didn’t want to be there even if he was. So, you walked the streets of the QZ. It had gotten worse through the years—regular civilians starving and working themselves to death just to have something to eat while FEDRA ran rampant, using their power as a way to manipulate, control, and oppress. 

You saw a little girl with her parents—bouncy curls that reminded you of Sarah. It made your stomach twist in knots. This little girl would only ever know of this world and the little girl you lost would never be able to see what you or Joel had become. 

You never had the opportunity to grieve Sarah’s death, and neither did Joel, but it felt different. You woke up every morning expecting to hear her voice and see her face. Even after all these years, you could imagine her so vividly and you knew there would come a day where you wouldn’t anymore.

And that hurt just as much as the thought of losing her. 

You knew she wasn’t biologically yours and that you only spent a few years with her before the world ended, but she changed your life. You looked forward to every morning and every afternoon spent with her—how easy your conversations were, how she relied on you for advice. She was the sweetest girl and it wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair. 

So, as you stared at this small family, you couldn’t help but think back to before. 

“You know,” Sarah said, her head resting on your shoulder as you both sat on your couch. Joel was late again—he’d been coming home late because of work lately. “Sometimes, I wish my dad had a different job.” 

You looked down at her. Your relationship with Joel had gotten more serious ever since you both confessed that you loved each other, but you understood his need to work more. It was all for Sarah—he’d give her the world if he could. “Yeah? What kind of job would you give him?” 

“One where he stayed home,” she whispered with a sigh. “And don’t get me wrong… I love spending time with you.” 

You smiled and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. “I know, bug. It’s not the same, and I understand that.” 

“What about your parents?” 

You sighed. “They’ve been gone for a while now.” 

Her eyes widened. “Oh shoot, I’m so sorry. Here I am… complaining about my dad working late when your parents aren’t even here—”

Your eyes softened. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know, but I get it. They worked a lot when I was younger too.”

Sarah sighed. “Did it get any easier?” 

You shook your head. “It drove us apart, actually… but that’s where my parents are different than your dad.” 

“And how’s that?” 

You tapped her nose gently. “He doesn’t want to work late,” you answered. “His job isn’t his priority. It’s his responsibility, yes, but if he had it his way? He’d be right here with you instead.” 

Sarah bit her lower lip. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

“If he could take time off from work, you know he would.” 

She sighed quietly. “Can I spend the night?” 

You smiled softly. “I thought that was the plan, no?” 

You felt her relax in your arms and snuggle closer to you as you reached for the remote to play a movie. “When you and my dad get married… I think my life will be complete,” she yawned. 

You laughed quietly and ran your hand up and down her back, feeling the weight of her against you. “Yeah? That would be okay with you? If me and your dad get married?” 

Sarah grinned sleepily. “Of course it’d be okay with me. I can’t wait. You’re gonna be the most beautiful bride.” 

“You wanna be my maid of honor?” You whispered. 

Her eyes shot open. Brows lifted upward in surprise. Her grin grew and her dimples deepened. “R—Really?” 

“Yeah, bug.” 

“Yes! Yes!” She smiled, wrapping her arms even tighter around you. “I love you, you know that? I know you make my dad happy, but I hope you know that you make me happy too.” 

“I love you too, Sarah,” you answered with a small smile. “Now get some sleep. I’ll let your dad know that you’ll be here tonight.” 

You heard a loud pop pop pop, pulling you from your thoughts. Your eyes were wide as you looked to the sound of the gunshots, watching FEDRA gun down who looked to be someone the Fireflies painting one of the walls. 

When you’re lost the darkness, look for the light. 

Your jaw clenched. You couldn’t join Tommy. The Fireflies wasn’t a group you wanted to be part of because when you turned back to the small family, you watched the little girl bury her face into her father’s shoulder for comfort. In her eyes, you were sure she believed there were no good or bad guys. 

So, you decided that you were going to leave on your own. You didn’t know where you were going to go, but you knew you couldn’t stay here anymore. 

It was late by the time you stepped foot in the apartment. Joel was already on the couch, arm draped over his eyes. You looked at the table and let out a sigh—pills and liquor, a sight you had gotten used to seeing. 

You didn’t want to wake him, so you walked quietly down the hallway and into the bedroom. You grabbed your backpack and began filling it with necessary items that would help you once you were outside the gates. You hadn’t realized that you were making so much noise until you heard the sound of his boots against the hardwood floor. 

You didn’t stop. You kept packing your bag until you heard his voice. 

Deep, gruff, and so familiar. 

“What are you doin’?” 

You didn’t answer him. 

“Hey,” he called out, stepping further into the room. This had to have been the longest conversation you had with him in a very long time. “S’late. Are you preparin’ for a run with Tess?” 

You kept packing. 

Joel took another step towards you until his large hand touched your arm. 

That simple touch made you stop. 

Slowly, you turned to look up at him. Tears were brimming your eyes. 

“I’m tired, Joel,” you whispered. “I—I’m tired.” 

“Then, go to sleep,” he mumbled. “You can do all this tomorrow.” His hand dropped. Joel moved back like he remembered maybe he shouldn’t have touched you. 

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.” 

He cleared his throat. “I don’t know what you want me to say.” 

“I want you to tell me that me being here is enough, that you still love me, that you’re hurting just as I am… I want you to just talk to me,” you pleaded. It was your last ditch effort to give him another chance—another chance to be open with you. 

“M’fine,” he muttered. 

Your heart stuttered. Your stomach dropped. 

“You’re not fine,” you said quietly. “You know you’re not fine so—so stop lying to me and stop lying to yourself.” 

Joel sighed, jaw clenched as he stared at you. “The world is fucked and I’m doin’ my best.” 

“You’re slowly killing yourself!” You blurted out, tears now streaking down your cheeks. “I am watching you numb your feelings every night and it hurts. I am hurting.” 

He looked away from you. “M’sorry—”

“I was there that night too,” you interrupted. “I—I saw what happened. I was there.” 

“Don’t,” Joel snarled, turning his gaze back at you. You hadn’t ever seen that look on his face before—at least not directed at you. “Don’t you fuckin’ say her name.”

“I miss her too,” you sighed. “You think I just forgot? That I just stopped thinking about her? You weren’t the only one who lost her, Joel.” 

“She was my daughter!” He yelled. “Mine, not yours.” 

You felt your breath catch in your throat. You took a step back from him as you gripped your bag tightly. “I know,” you whispered. “But I loved her like she was mine,” you added. “You knew that. You knew she knew that.” 

“You ain’t her mama,” Joel spat. 

“I was the closest one she had,” you argued. “And when you were out late, working, who looked after her? Who did she come to when she got her period for the first time? She wasn’t just yours, Joel… she was ours,” you continued. “She was mine just as much as she was yours, so don’t you dare take that away from me!” 

“Were you there when she cried every night and the only thing that helped was rockin’ her in my arms? Were you there when she took her first steps, said her first word, cried on her first day of kindergarten?” Joel’s eyes filled with tears. You knew that was the first time he had talked Sarah since losing her.

“That’s not fair,” you mumbled. “I—I only moved in when she was already—”

“You may have been there for the last four years of her life, but you weren’t there for the rest of it,” he said, anger clear in his eyes now. “You don’t know what it’s like—having your babygirl die in your arms the way she did,” Joel whispered, voice trembling. “So, if you want to go, if you want to leave, then go. I ain’t stoppin’ you.” 

“Joel… why can’t you just tell me you love me anymore? Why can’t you see that I’m trying so hard to fix this, to fix us?” 

“It can’t be fixed!” He shouted, shaking his head as he moved his hands to his hips. “It’s not enough, baby,” Joel felt something catch in his throat because he knew what this meant. He knew there was no coming back from this. “Our love—it ain’t enough to fix this. I cannot be fixed—I can’t be healed from this. I lost Sarah and everything else with it.” 

You looked at him, chin trembling as you started crying. Tears continuously trickled down your cheeks. This felt like a final goodbye—a broken heart that was never going to be healed. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t even blame him for what he was feeling. 

You just wished you were strong enough to stick around. 

“I love you too much,” you whispered, staring at him intently and taking note of every inch of his face because you were sure this was going to be the last time you would see him. Behind his facade was a man who was once happy, filled with so much love, and the man you were looking at now… was void of it all. “But I can’t stay here, knowing that one day you might not come home.” 

Something in Joel cracked. Out of instinct, he took a step forward but stopped himself from moving any further. He felt his heart breaking, felt his stomach turn uneasily at the sight of your tears, at what this conversation meant. He wished he could just tell you to stay, that he could try and become the same man you had fallen in love with, but he couldn’t. 

He lost a part of himself when Sarah died and he was certain that there was nothing that could bring that back. Not even you. 

And Joel didn’t want you to leave, but he knew you deserved better.

Better than him. 

“Then go,” he whispered. 

“God, your parents are so in love… it’s kinda gross,” Sarah’s friend said, staring at you and Joel who were on the dance floor and swaying to the music. 

Sarah watched the both of you with loving eyes. She wanted to agree with her friend, wished she could feel embarrassed by it, but instead, she felt pride. 

Her parents. 

You and her dad. 

Publicly dancing with each other at a middle school dance like no one else mattered. 

This was what Sarah had seen in so many movies and now, she had the opportunity to experience it herself. 

Because you were her mom more than anything. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Sarah finally said, looking at her friend with a smile before she began walking towards both you and Joel. 

“You’re gonna embarrass your daughter,” you teased, looking up at Joel who kept his eyes on you. 

He shrugged and kept you close to him. “I’m just dancin’ with my girl.” 

“At a middle school dance,” you added. 

“Ain’t no one else dancin’.” 

You laughed quietly. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” 

Joel smiled. “I’m crazy about you, baby… and if that makes me ridiculous, then so be it.” 

You leaned into him. Your eyes flickered to his lips before you looked back up into his eyes. “I’d kiss you right now if we weren’t in front of so many middle schoolers, including Sarah.”

He rolled his eyes. “I think she wouldn’t mind.” 

“No?” 

“In fact, she thinks you’re cooler than me, so I’m sure whatever you wanna do, she’d be okay with.” 

“You just want a kiss, don’t you?” 

Joel smirked. “What? Me?” 

You laughed quietly and leaned up to lightly peck his lips. “Gotta keep it PG… don’t want to be setting an example of what these kids can do.” 

“Oh, of course, smart,” Joel smiled, pecking your lips repeatedly before he pulled back. “I love you, darlin’. Thanks for comin’ with me.” 

“Well, I came for Sarah… you’re just a perk,” you teased. “But I love you too, baby. Always will.” 

Sarah came into view, causing both you and Joel to look down at her as you both stopped swaying. 

“Sorry, babygirl—”

She shook her head and wrapped both of her arms around the two of you. Joel glanced at you with a furrowed brow before a smile curled your lips and you moved one arm to wrap around Sarah. Joel did the same, now the three of you holding onto each other as the swaying continued. 

“This is the best day,” she whispered. “My friend called you my parents… and I didn’t correct her,” Sarah said softly, looking up at you and Joel with hopeful eyes. “Is that okay?” 

Joel cleared his throat and looked at you. He didn’t want to scare you away, so he wanted to let you answer first. 

He felt himself relax when he saw you smile. 

“Bug, as long as I’m the cool parent, I’m more than okay with it,” you said softly. 

Sarah giggled. “Of course you are!” 

“Hey,” Joel mumbled. “M’right here.” 

You and Sarah laughed quietly before you both stared over at Joel. “Is that okay with you, dad? That—that they think she’s my mom?” 

Joel nodded without hesitation. “If that’s okay with you, babygirl, then it’s more than okay with me.” 

You felt your stomach flutter with butterflies as you leaned in to kiss Sarah’s temple. “Love you, bug.” 

Sarah pulled back to look up at you. “Love you too.” 

Joel smiled to himself. He never wanted this moment to end—he was sure that he’d never be as happy and as content as he was than in this moment with you and with Sarah. 

Joel heard the front door shut. 

It wasn’t until it was finally quiet in the apartment that he finally allowed himself to break down. 

He failed Sarah. 

And he failed you. 

He was better off alone. 

What Joel didn’t know was that you leaving didn’t mean that you were going to stay in a different apartment in the QZ. 

Instead, you leaving meant leaving Boston entirely. 

Test after test. All negative. You didn’t know what was wrong, didn’t know how to come out of the bathroom every time to tell Harry the bad news. 

Waiting for three to five minutes for the results always put you on edge. You’d feel anxiety simmer in the pit of your stomach every time—it made you feel sick, waiting for the test to say it was negative yet again. Even with more time spent with Harry away from the kids (your parents and his enjoyed the amount of time they got to spend with them), you still weren’t pregnant. 

And the sex was amazing—it always was, but it felt so misleading afterwards because after every session, both you and Harry were sure that that was it. That you’d finally be pregnant, you’d finally share the good news with the kids that they were going to have another sibling. 

But after every test, your hope for another child diminished slowly. 

And you could tell that it was affecting Harry too. 

Harry was exhausted. It wasn’t that sex stopped being enjoyable, but it started feeling more like a chore for the both of you. You were trying to figure things out on your own—afraid to go to the doctors in case something more serious was going on. 

And he didn’t push you. It was your body and Harry knew better than to say otherwise, but scheduling sex was starting to take a toll on him. 

Because it stopped being about a moment to share between the both of you and started to feel like something you both had to do because you were ovulating. 

So, he started working more again. Came up with excuses that he had meetings that made him stay later at work or had him come earlier than everyone else. 

But he hated it too because it meant spending more time away from you and the kids. 

When the recent pregnant test came up negative again, Harry did something that he was sure you’d be angry with him for. 

He set up a doctors appointment for himself and for you. 

“Baby,” Harry sighed, sitting at the edge of the bed still dressed in his suit from work. “I’m sorry, but we both know that you weren’t going to schedule it yourself.” 

You looked down at him and shook your head. “You should’ve at least talked to me about it first.” 

“I tried!” Harry said, voice raising just a bit before he realized that the kids were already fast asleep. He sighed and reached up to loosen the tie around his neck. “I tried, baby. You wanted to keep trying, wanted to try out the things you saw online and it hasn’t worked.” 

“We weren’t trying that long—” 

“You’re lying to yourself if you think that we haven’t been trying long enough.” 

You sighed. “Harry—”

“Aren’t you tired, baby? Because I—I’m fucking exhausted,” he confessed.

“What?” 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that,” he sighed, looking up at you with his deep brown eyes that glazed over with unshed tears. “I’m tired of being disappointed and not knowing what’s wrong. We’ve been doing everything right and we’re still not pregnant. Don’t you want to check what’s going on?”

“Of course I’m tired,” you said quietly. “Of course I’m fucking exhausted whenever I have to take that pregnancy test only to be disappointed when it shows up negative,” you continued, arms crossed over your chest as tears trickled down your cheeks. “But I’m scared—fucking terrified, Harry, because what if this is bigger than just my inability to get pregnant? What if it’s something more serious?”

“Then wouldn’t you want to know?” Harry asked, standing up from the edge of the bed abruptly to walk over to you. “I would want to know if something’s wrong,” he said quietly, hands resting on your hips lightly. “Because then we’ll have a plan of action to tackle it together.” 

You looked up at him and shook your head, keeping your arms crossed over your chest despite his hands on your body. “I don’t—I don’t want to know.”

He shook his head. “It’s not up for debate. This isn’t something we’re negotiating on, baby. We are getting this checked. You and me,” Harry said. “You don’t think I’m scared? You don’t think I’m worried that maybe it’s me that’s the problem?”

“Harry—”

“No,” he interrupted quietly. “I need to know what’s going on and I can’t keep up with this schedule that you have… I don’t want sex to be some kind of chore that we need to do.”

You furrowed a brow and pulled away from him, lower lip quivering just slightly. “Are you not enjoying it? Is sex not something you want—”

“What?” Harry sighed and tried to reach for you again, but you just stepped back. “That’s not what I meant, baby.”

“Then what did you mean, Harry? Because to me, it sounds like you’re tired of having sex because we’re doing it so much.” 

“We’re not doing it because we want to do it,” Harry muttered. “We’re doing it because we have to.” 

“We both want another child,” you said. “That’s what we both talked about.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But something is wrong,” Harry confessed. “I know it. You know it. We can’t—we can’t keep ignoring it.” 

“And what happens if I’m the problem, Harry? Will you look at me differently? Will you no longer want me because I can’t get pregnant?”

“What?” Harry shook his head, disbelief written across his features. “Are you serious? Do you really think that low of me?”

“I don’t know!” 

“You don’t—” he scoffed, not bothering to finish that sentence as he turned to grab his blazer from the bed. “I set up the doctors appointment for the both of us… because I thought that we could do it together—that whatever life threw our way, we’d be right by each other’s sides.”

“Harry—” You bit your lower lip and sighed, feeling the weight in your chest when you realized how you might have sounded to him. 

“I think we both just need to cool off,” he interrupted, slipping his shoes back on and pulling his blazer over his shoulders. 

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” Harry answered, not sparing you another glance as he walked past you and out the bedroom and down the hallway. 

You couldn’t sleep. Not when Harry wasn’t home yet. So, you sat on the deck in the backyard, waiting for him to come home. It wasn’t until it was close to midnight by the time you heard the sliding door open. You didn’t need to turn in the direction of the sound to know it was him. 

He sat next to you and before you could say anything else, you felt his arms wrap around you to pull you close to his side. You let out a shaky breath and leaned into him, eyes falling shut as tears trickled down your cheeks. You knew that you hurt him—your fear of knowing what could be wrong had hurt him. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shh,” he whispered, shaking his head as his arms just tightened around you further. “I know, baby.”

“You were just doing something that you thought was right and I—I’m just scared,” you said quietly. “I don’t want there to be anything wrong, but I just feel—I feel like there is and I don’t know if I’m ready to hear it.”

Harry looked down at you and sighed. He knew he shouldn’t have left, but he just needed some time to think, needed the space to do it. He reached up and cupped your cheek, thumb brushing across a tear that trickled down your cheek. “You won’t be alone,” he said softly. “I’ll be right here, baby… and I’m sorry too. I should’ve—I should’ve talked to you about it first and I shouldn’t have left either.”

“Is this—is this worth it?” You asked quietly. “Is trying for another baby worth it?” 

He clenched his jaw. It was a thought that had crossed his mind many times in the last few months, but when he remembered how you were with Frankie and then Sammy, it made him feel guilty that he even questioned it. “I think it’s worth it if you think it is,” he answered honestly.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But every time I think about not wanting to do this anymore, I think back to Stevie, to Frankie… to Sammy.” 

He nodded, slowly bringing you to sit on his lap as he felt your arm wrap around him. Harry sighed and rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes falling shut as he felt you lean further into him. “Then whatever the doctors say… we handle it together.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “And—and sex?”

He cleared his throat. “I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier,” Harry answered with a sigh. “It’s not exhausting. It’s not—”

“It’s okay,” you interjected. “And it is exhausting. That’s not who we are. Scheduling sex—it’s not something that we do.”

Harry sighed. “I know,” he said. “But we had to try everything.”

You nodded, resting your cheek against the crown of his head as you felt his arms tighten around your hips. “I hate fighting with you,” you replied. “I can’t even sleep if you’re not next to me.” 

Harry looked up at you and leaned up to lightly peck your lips. “Me too, baby… and I hate seeing you so upset and me being the reason for it.”

“You weren’t the reason why I was upset.”

“I was.”

“You weren’t.”

Harry sighed, staring up at you. “I was.”

“I know it came from a place of love,” you responded. “And I just—I didn’t see that initially. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Harry replied, slowly standing from the deck and pulling you up with him. “I love you,” he said softly, hand coming up to your cheek. “I’ll always love you, baby, okay? You changed my life. You gave me everything I ever dreamt of. I’m never leaving you, you got it?” 

You nodded, hands moving to rest on his chest as you looked up at him. “I love you too,” you answered. “Now, can we go to sleep?”

He chuckled and took your hand, leading you inside quietly to make sure that neither of you woke up any of the kids. “Let’s go to sleep,” he whispered, turning your hand to gently kiss the back of it. 

Harry was sitting on the other side of the table with you sitting right next to him as the doctor’s voice trailed off. He was staring at the name plate on the desk and your hand over his. He felt you squeeze it reassuringly, but Harry couldn’t focus. 

It was him.

He was the problem.

He was the reason why you couldn’t get pregnant.

I’m sorry it’s not the news either of you want to hear.

Low sperm count 

Secondary male infertility 

Harry pulled his hand away from yours abruptly. He felt his chest tightening and his stomach dropping, so he stood from the chair and left the room without a word to you or the doctor. 

He heard you call out for him, but he just left the room and down the hallway to the bathroom. Shutting it behind him, Harry locked the door and stared at himself through the mirror. He was the problem—something always had to be wrong with him. 

His hands curled into fists as he looked at himself in the mirror. The doctor mentioned something about stress and lack of sleep possibly being one of the causes and it only frustrated him even more. 

If he hadn’t overworked himself when his parents retired, would you have been pregnant by now? Would there be something wrong with him? 

“Fuck,” he mumbled. “Fuck!” 

Then, he heard a couple of soft knocks on the door followed by the sound of your voice. It made him break, tears finally spilled over. 

“Harry, baby, it’s me…” 

Harry didn’t move. He just listened to your voice. He couldn’t face you. Not yet. Not now.

“Harry,” you repeated. “Baby, open the door, let me in.”

He shook his head. 

Heard the doorknob rattling.

“Baby, we—we can figure this out together,” you said softly. He could hear it in your voice that you were trying to keep it together, trying to be strong for the both of you. “Please, Harry… open the door.”

Then, he said, “Go home.” It came out quietly, strained, so he took a deep breath and repeated, “Just go home.”

The doorknob rattled again. 

“Stop,” you whispered. “I’m not—I’m not leaving without you. I’ll stand on this side of the door for as long as it takes.”

“Baby, please,” Harry whispered, voice trembling. “I can’t—I can’t face you right now,” he said from his side of the door. 

“No.” You said once more. “I’m not going anywhere without you.” 

He bit his lower lip and then unlocked the door. He stepped back and watched you open the door slowly, stepping through it and shutting it behind you. Before you could say anything else, you walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. 

Harry buried his face against the side of your neck, hot tears strolling down his cheeks and onto your skin. He was breaking down in your arms and you just held onto him tighter. He had always been the anchor for you—now it was your turn to be that for him. 

“We’ll figure this out together,” you said, one hand rubbing his back and the other brushing your thumb across the back of his head. “Just—just don’t shut me out.”

“It’s me…I’m the reason why you can’t get pregnant,” he muttered against you. “I’m the fucking reason.” 

You pulled back and cupped his cheeks. You weren’t used to seeing him like this. “Stop… stop talking like that.”

“But it’s true,” he whispered. “Is it not?”

“Harry—”

“I’m fucking sorry,” Harry interrupted. “I know you wanted another child and I’m sorry I can’t—”

“It’s not your fault and it’s not something you need to apologize for either,” you interjected. “How about we go home, hm? Maybe get away from the doctors office and just—go home.”

Harry nodded. “The kids?”

“I’ll let your parents know they’ll stay the weekend, is that okay?” 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea.” He wouldn’t meet your eyes, so he pulled back and stood upright, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand. “You hungry, baby? Want something to eat?”

You furrowed a brow. You could tell he was trying to move past this already. “Harry—”

“I think you’re hungry. Let’s get you some food,” he interrupted, pulling the door open and ushering you out of the bathroom with a hand on your lower back. Harry didn’t look around, just kept walking down the corridor and towards the elevators. Even the hand on your back trembled, but as you looked over at him, he just kept his eyes forward. 

He was trying to bury this, trying to push it aside and focus on taking care of you because Harry knew that if he gave it any more thought, he’d break down again. 

And he couldn’t do that. 

You needed him.

The kids needed him.

The company needed him. 

It felt like he was on autopilot because the next thing he knew, he was sitting in the driver’s seat of his parked car with your hand resting over his forearm. His hands tightened around the steering wheel and it wasn’t until he heard your voice that finally pulled him from his thoughts.

“We—we need to talk about this,” you whispered. “I don’t want to push this away like it didn’t happen.”

“Well, I do,” Harry spat. He still didn’t look at you. “I want to forget that this ever happened.”

“We can’t,” you said softly. “Harry, we—”

“We can,” he interrupted. “We can’t get pregnant, so that’s it. That’s done with. We stop trying.”

“Harry—”

“And if that’s not what you want, then… then I guess you’ll have to find some other way to get pregnant.” 

You tightened your jaw and shook your head. “Stop!” 

He was breathing heavily now. Harry finally turned to look at you and noticed the look on your face. He was afraid that he’d be met with disappointment, but instead, the look caught him by surprise. Tears filled your eyes and concerned etched on your features. 

“Stop,” you whispered. “Getting pregnant again… it’s not worth it if I lose you.”

1. “We're both different people now, aren't we?”

2. “What are you doing?”

“Striking a sexy pose.”

“Well, sit down before you pull something.”

3. “Hey, look at me. I’m yours and no one can change that.”

4. “Feel this? It’s just for you.”

6. “You’re unbelievably cute when you’re tired.”

5. “Thank you for choosing me.”

7. “Oh god, how can you manage to switch from cute to sexy in under a second?”

8. “I desperately want to take you out for dinner and slow dance with you until the sun comes up, but I also want to grip your hair as I watch you writhing underneath me.”

9. “I’m not materialistic. I like being happy and having lots of sex.”

10. “I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”

11. “Those jeans are really working on you.”

12. “It's not an addiction. It's a coping mechanism.”

13. “I am fully convinced that you never graduated from kindergarten.”

14. “If we were alone right now, what would you do to me?”

15. “You’re so cute.”

“What did you just say?”

“I said you look like a boot.”

16. “I could just pull your bikini bottom to the side, no one will notice.”

17. “Holy shit, is that a piercing down there?”

18. “I thought you hated horror movies.”

“I do, but I like any excuse to bury my face into your chest.”

19. “How long has it been since someone hugged you?”

20. “As much as I love the position we're in right now, I'm afraid we'll have to move because my leg has gone completely numb.”

If you would like me to write any of these, send me an ask to let me know. But don't forget to mention the character too!

He had known fear before.

He had tasted it in the metallic air before dawn, with a rifle pressed against his shoulder and his heartbeat loud enough to drown out reason. He had carried it through deserts that smelled of smoke and blood, tucked neatly between his ribs where no one could see it. Fear had always meant survival. It had sharp edges. It barked orders. It told him to keep moving.

But this fear arrived in the quiet.

In a bathroom with two pink lines. In trembling hands holding a pregnancy test. In the way she looked at him, eyes already shimmering with tears before she whispered, "Frankie..."

He forgot how to breathe.

A baby.

His baby.

For one impossible, breathtaking moment the whole world stopped spinning. He laughed first, then cried. Then laughed again because he couldn't believe both were happening at once.

He wrapped his arms around her so tightly he worried he might break her, burying his face against her shoulder while something ancient and gentle cracked open inside his chest.

"We're having a baby, mi amor."

The words never sounded real, no matter how many times he repeated them after.

And then came the real fear. 

Not the kind that came with helicopters or gunfire.

This one was crueler. Because bullets were honest. They came at you head-on. You could duck, fight back, pray your luck held out.

This? This asked him to trust the universe with two people he loved more than his own heartbeat.

He had never known love could make a man this terrified. From that day on, she hardly touched the ground. He carried the groceries before she even reached for them. Knelt to tie her shoes when her belly made it impossible. Rubbed aching feet that swore they were "fine." Learned how she liked her tea, how many pillows made her back hurt less, which side of the bed she slept best on now.

He kissed the stretch marks before they had even fully been visible. Cradled her bump every night and spoke to their unborn child, as if they already understood him.

Somewhere between assembling cribs and painting nursery walls and arguing over names they both secretly already loved Frankie stopped looking over his shoulder.

Stopped waiting for the next disaster. Stopped believing happiness was only ever borrowed. Because suddenly the future wasn't something to fear anymore.

It had a heartbeat.

And somehow, without taking a single breath, that tiny human had already rerouted the entire course of his life.

Then came the day. The longest day he'd ever lived.

Her hand nearly crushed every bone in his, he didn't care.

She cried. He cried. She screamed with all her might. He whispered every prayer he'd forgotten he knew. Bargaining with a God he didn’t even fully believe in.

"Please let her be okay."

Hours blurred into one endless torment.

Until a sharp and small cry filled the air. The kind of sound that split the universe clean in two. And then a nurse placed the tiniest person Frankie Morales had ever seen into his arms.

His entire world. Six pounds of miracle. Loved from the moment they hadn’t been more than two pink lines and a flicker on a screen.

He stared down at the tiny bundle in his arms, afraid to blink. 

And just like that the soldier was gone. 

Not erased. Just gently set down beside the man he'd become in one single breath. 

His knees nearly gave out, he laughed through tears that refused to stop falling. Not quiet ones he'd learned to hide. These came from somewhere so impossibly deep they felt older than language itself.

Relief, wonder and a gratitude so enormous he had no place inside himself to put it so it burst out of him and spilled over. 

He pressed the gentlest kisses against the baby's impossibly soft head of unruly curls, just like his own.

Then he looked at his girl. Exhausted, hair damp with sweat. Eyes heavy and still by far the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

More beautiful now, because she had done the impossible. She had carried their flesh made love beneath her heart and somehow brought it safely into his arms.

Finally he leaned down to her, kissing her hair again and again. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice breaking beneath the weight of everything he couldn't possibly fit into two words.

She smiled that tired, crooked smile he'd fallen in love with years ago.

He thought he'd loved her then. But watching her become a mother rewrote every definition he'd ever had for love.

She hadn't just given him a child, she had given him tomorrow. 

And for the first time in a lifetime spent surviving Frankie wasn't fighting for another sunrise. He was living for every single one that came after.

thanks for reading 💌

moodboard done by my better half @rhapsodyofdarkness <3

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