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uncpanda · 8 months

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Blood is Thicker than Water: Chapter 20

AN: Not going to lie. I STRUGGLE writing wedding scenes. However, I really love how this chapter turned out. Instead of dragging it out, we get snippets. I love that about this. Please leave feedback.

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Master List

Guest List:

“Four hundred and thirty-six people.”

Rafa stares at you. He’s been sipping from that cup of coffee for over two minutes now. You lean forward and say it again, “Four hundred and thirty-six people.”

He finally puts the cup down, “I really don’t see the problem.”

You scream in frustration and stomp right out of the apartment.

The moment the door closes Rafael looks at Benny and asks, “She realizes I have a big family right?”

Wedding Party:

“So that gives me Rita as my best woman, and Ed and Eddie as groomsmen.”

“And I have Liv as my maid of honor.”

Rafa stares at you, “That means the sides are uneven.”

“So?”

“They can’t be uneven.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Why not?”

“It won’t look right.”

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your fiance sighs, “What about your friends from college?”

“Most of them are already married and have kids. Plus they live in different states. That’s not fair to ask them.”

“Friends from childhood?”

“I hung out with Elliot’s kids. I haven’t talked to them in years, andI don’t really have a desire to do so now.”

“So this is just how it is.”

“Unless you want me to ask your mother?”

“Nope. We’re good.”

The Venue:

“What do you think?”

You look around at the garden. It is perfect for a springtime wedding. Even without the flowers in bloom, it’s gorgeous.

You look over at Rafa, his smile is stretched across his face. He’s done good. Amazing really. There’s just one problem.

“It’s not going to fit four hundred thirty-six people.”

Your fiance scowls, “We can figure it out. Some people can stand.”

You cross your arms, and lean forward, “That’s against the fire code counselor.” you point towards the plaque that reads a max of 300.

He throws his hands up in frustration, and finally says the words you’ve been waiting to hear, “Fine! I’ll make cuts.”

Ring Bearer:

“He needs a part in the wedding!”

“I’m not disagreeing with you.”

“You said no.”

“I said no, because I already told my sister Noah could do it, and he’s our nephew.”

“Well of course Noah is a ring bearer, I’m just saying Benny could be one too!”

“There’s also the fact that your grandmother might pass out if she sees a dog in the processional. We’re already not getting married in the neighborhood church. She nearly cried when we told her that.”

“She loves Benny!”

“I know, that’s why he can come to the reception and take pictures with us. I already talked to the venue and our dog walker.”

“Oh. Well, okay then.”

Shopping:

“So how did you manage to convince mama Barba and Abuelita and the rest of his relatives not to come today?”

You take a sip of the champagne in your hand, “I told them the truth. This is a you and me thing. No one else allowed.”

Liv smiles, “Well, it means a lot that it’s just us.”

“What do you think of these?”

You and Liv turn together and watch as Ed and Noah come out together. They’re dressed in matching tuxes. You and Liv melt. Noah is absolutely adorable, and Ed actually cleans up pretty good. While Rita is Rafa’s best woman, Ed and Eddie are his groomsmen, and Noah is the ring bearer.

After you’re all done cooing at Noah, Rafael finally steps out of the dressing room. He looks drop dead handsome in his tux. You feel your eyes go wide, and then he gets a little smirk on his face. You know you’re not living this moment down.

Music:

You stare at Rafa. He’s trying not to laugh. You can’t blame him. “She’s going to kill us.”

You smile, “This song comes from the first movie we ever watched together.”

“We’ve already found a way to work quotes into the wedding. If you walk down the aisle to this song, your sister might just kill us.”

You shake your head, a serious look coming over your face, “No she won’t. She knows why I love this movie, why I love the book.”

Rafa looks serious now too, “I think it’s perfect.”

Dress shopping:

“No,no, no, no, no! What did I tell you about off the rack? I said absolutely not! Where is your manager? I helped him evade a racketeering charge, he owes me!”

You sip on champagne and look at your sister. She has that look on her face, “At least it wasn’t a murder or rape charge.”

She nods in agreement before asking, “How did Rita end up on this chopping trip again?”

“This is apparently the best wedding dress shop around. She knows the owner . . . apparently rather well. She’s trying to help.”

A second later a terrified manager and a ranting Rita pass you by.

You both watch them go. You’re happy to say you don’t find your dress in that store.

Dress Shopping Part 2:

The day you find your wedding dress, you’re not expecting it. You’re less than five months away from the wedding, and you’re panicking a little bit. You KNOW it takes time to order a dress. Rita’s told you about it five million times.

You’re walking Benny when you see it. A small bridal shop, with a pretty dress in the window. You stare at it for several seconds before you call your sister. She answers on the first ring, “This better be an emergency. I’m in the middle of a case.”

“I think I might have found my wedding dress.”

There’s a moment of silence, “What’s the address, I’ll be there ASAP.”

You rattle it out just as an employee sticks her head out, “Hi there. Would you like to come in?”

You look down at Benny and she smiles, “He’s welcome to come in too. I love dogs!” You go in.

By the time Liv arrives, Benny is on his back getting belly scratches from the staff while you’re in the dressing room being fitted into your dream dress.

Liv stares at your goofy, three legged dog for a second before she calls out your name. You step out a second later.

You watch her eyes go wide, as she studies you for a second, “That’s it.”

You nod, “Yeah.” There are no tears. It’s just a comfortable feeling. This is your wedding dress.

The Night Before:

The night before your wedding is spent at Liv’s apartment. Ed and Noah head over to your place to spend time with Rafa and Eddie. It’s just the two of you. You put on face masks, paint your nails, and watch Disney movies. It reminds you of one of the best parts of your childhood.

It’s as you’re sitting on the couch that Liv says, “I’m so happy for you. You know that right?”

You smile, “I know.”

“He’s a good man.”

“The best in my opinion, though Ed gives him a run for his money.”

She smiles at that, “I truly think, you’re going to be really happy together.”

“I know so.”

With that, she pulls you in for a hug.

Right Before the Wedding:

You don’t actually feel nervous until about half an hour before the wedding. Your makeup and hair is done. You probably should have been in your dress by now, but you’re still in your getting ready outfit. Things are a bit behind schedule. Noah had a melt down, your sister has cried no less than three times, and Abuelita and Lucia have been bickering with each other. You haven’t seen Rafa. You’re not sure why you’re sticking to this stupid tradition, but you are.

You’re watching the chaos with an observant eye when someone taps you on the shoulder. You spin around to see your sister standing there. She tosses her head to the side and you follow her outside. The sun is shining and the March air is only a little chilly. You close your eyes and allow yourself a minute. When you open your eyes, you see Liv smiling at you.

“What?”

“It’s just crazy. How Lewis,”

“May he rot in hell,”

“Lead to all of this. You moving back and meeting Rafael. Me and Ed connecting, getting married, and having Noah. We’re getting those happy endings we dreamed of as kids.”

You hug yourself and look at the ground for a little bit before you look up, “Did I ever say thank you?”

“For what?”

“For raising me and loving me when you didn’t have to?”

Your sister hugs you, “You never have to thank me for that. You are one of the best joys of my life.” You smile at that.

Walking Down the Aisle:

You’re nervous, but you’re allowed to be. You’re in your dress, your veil is attached, and everyone has walked down the aisle except you and Liv. You look at your sister. She’s dressed in a black dress. She has once again avoided color.

She holds out her arm to you, and you take it. You close your eyes, and you count to three. The music starts: the instrumental Dawn from Pride and Prejudice; the first movie you and Rafa watched together. The movie you two still watch together.

You start to walk. It’s slow, and thanks to the three hundred and twenty three people (Rafa was able to cut it down) you can’t see Rafael yet. You do, however, see Uncle Don, and Finn, and Munch. You smile at them.

And then you turn the corner of people, and you see him. Rafael is standing there. He’s dressed in his tux. His hair is perfectly styled. His eyes are focused solely on you as though you’re the only thing he sees. You feel yourself start to speed up, but your sister grounds you like she always does.

When you finally reach him, you feel your breath leave your chest. And as you take his hand, everything else fades away. It’s just you and him. Just like it’s supposed to be.

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bullet-prooflove · 10 months

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The North Star - Part Eighteen: Lucky - Terry Bruno x Reader (feat: Ed Tucker)

Tagging: @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean @xoxabs88xox @crazy4chickennuggets @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart @genius2050 @spaghettificationandpretzels @mysoulisasunflower @chavez-ashley @kiwiithecrazybird @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989

Part One: Moments (NSFW)

Part Two: Case of the Ex

Part Three: Her Worse Half

Part Four: Always

Part Five: Ask Me Again (NSFW)

Part Six: Degas

Part Seven: The Heist

Part Eight: A Part to Play

Part Nine: Home

Part Ten: Safe Space

Part Eleven: Weak

Part Twelve: Got Your Back

Part Thirteen: Familia

Part Fourteen: Gunplay

Part Fifteen: Friendly Fire

Part Sixteen: Alive (NSFW)

Part Seventeen: Karma

You stand in front of the mirror in your underwear, your gaze on the compass that adorns your throat. It sits perched above the curve of your breasts, shining brightly in the bedroom light. Your North Star, exactly where it was supposed to be. It hangs amidst the bruises that blossomed across your skin. One staining the space above your left breast and the other just underneath, that had been the one that collapsed your lung, the one that almost killed you. If Sinclair hadn’t been thinking on his feet, if the ambulance hadn’t arrived sooner…

But it had and comparatively your treatment plan was sedate compared to some of the other poor bastards who suffered similar injuries. You didn’t have to walk around with a chest tube sticking out of you, you hadn’t had to have surgery, you weren’t still laid up in the hospital. You were lucky. At least that’s what the doctors told you.

Lucky would have been not getting shot at all.

Lucky would have been never laying eyes on Paul first place.

Lucky, lucky, lucky…

The word revolved around your brain until your eyes began to blur and your chest heaves. You feel Terry’s palms coming to rest on your shoulders, thumbs tracing over the scars that decorate your skin. His chest presses against you, his lips brushing over the back of your head.

“You’re ok.” He murmurs, his palms slipping down to your hips before he wraps his arms around you and draws you into the comforting shelter of your body. “I got you pretty girl.”

Your breath catches in your throat. It felt like it had yesterday, when that second bullet hit, when the air erupted out of your lungs and the oxygen refused to filter back in. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t fucking breathe. Terry clasps you close, whispering into your hair, you couldn’t hear his words over the rush of blood in your ears but you can feel the sentiment. You inhale the essence of him, lavender and sandalwood. It floods over you, soothing over your frayed nerves as he holds you. There was a safety in him, there always had been. He was a man who would never hurt you, who would always love you.

“Baby, just breathe, ok?” he whispers into your ear. “In for four, hold for four, out for six remember? Do it with me.”

It's hard but you manage it. The slow intake of breath, the oxygen filling up your lungs before you exhale. Your head starts to clear; you can think again. Your fingertips wrap around the compass that Meredith had brought by earlier this morning. You’d still been dressed in one of Terry’s t-shirts and a pair of his boxers when her and Mike had shown up, with the necklace and a file filled with your greatest hits. Photographs from that night, witness statements and a whole lot more you didn’t want to read because you remember everything in technicolour.

“For IAB.” Mike had told you. “It’ll help your case.”

“Thank you.” You had whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You tell Terry, leaning back against him. “It was those pictures, seeing them again.”

“If this is too much…” he begins.

“No.” You say forcefully, turning around to face him.

Your forehead comes to rest against his, his hands cupping your face lovingly.

“I have to do this.” You say quietly. “If I don’t, it’ll weigh on me. I’ll never be free.”

“I know, pretty girl, I know.”

********************************************************************

You had never attended IAB headquarters before. The offices were cleaner, more modern than the precincts you had worked in. You thought you could see where some of the budget went. It was a small department but well maintained. Everyone knew their purpose, they went about their business as if you weren’t even there when you followed Tucker straight through the banks of desks and into his office.

The fact you were being led here was a surprise. Most of the IAB horror stories you heard took place in interrogation rooms with two officers and a camera to record the interview. He gestures for you to take the visitor’s chair across from his desk. You comply; your palms pressed between your knees as he takes his own seat.

You can’t read Tucker’s expression. His eyes are on you, studying your face as his fingertip taps at his temple.

“Russo’s dead.” He says abruptly.

You stare at him, unable to comprehend the words that were coming out of his mouth.

“He’s dead?” You repeat.

It doesn't seem real. You had spent so much time agonising over this decision, weighing the costs to you, to the people around you and now it had been taken out of your hands at the final hurdle.

“You’re telling me you didn’t know?” Tucker asks you pointedly.

You shake your head, unable to speak. A thousand possibilities ran through your head. An accident? Paul wasn’t the type to consider suicide…

“Cocaine overdose triggered a heart attack. The M.E said it was quick.” Tucker answers for you, before leaning forward and placing his elbows upon his desk. “I know it wasn’t you, and I know it wasn’t Bruno. I’ve checked out your foster sister and Duarte. They were tucked up in bed. And your team, wasn’t them either so what I think we’re looking at is his dealer. I think he knew that Russo was going down and thought he’d talk…”

“Why are you telling me this?” You ask him, pinching the bridge of your nose in an attempt to alleviate the tension that was building up behind your eyes. This feeling that had been sitting deep down inside of you, that fear, that anxiety, it should have dissipated but it didn’t. It sat in the pit of your stomach, clawing at your insides.

Tucker picks up his pen, using his thumb to click it intermittently.

“I got an email from Duarte this morning.” He tells you, his voice devoid of emotion. “I think you know what was in it.”

You thought of the file in your bag, the one that Mike had handed you this morning. He did what he did best, build a case. You knew why he had sent it to Tucker, he’d pulled the trigger just in case you couldn’t. You said nothing in response to his words because what was the fucking point?

“What Bruno said…” He begins, setting his pen down carefully on the desk. “When he had Russo up against the wall in the hospital. Was that true?”

You pull the sleeves of your blazer up to your elbows and thrust your wrists out in front of you so that he can see the purple finger marks gracing your flesh.

“There’s more if you need to see it.” You tell him.

He shakes his head in response to your words as you tug your sleeves back down over your wrists to cover the bruising.

“I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.” You say sagging back into the chair. “The investigation dies with him, right?”

“Yea.” Tucker says, rapping his fingertips on the manilla file situated in front of him. “We’ve had an open investigation on him for a couple of years. We suspected he’d been feeding intel to his dealer, running licence plates, tipping him off to raids, burning our C.Is. He was smart. We couldn’t prove anything, but we knew.”

“It started after me.” You murmur, your fingertips tracing over the scars embedded in the back of your neck. “That’s the reason this whole thing began, there was a drug debt… I guess they had him work it off.”

“We would have buried him with this.” Tucker tells you, picking up the folder before tossing it back on the desk.

You see it for what it was, an opportunity wasted. They’d had plans for Paul even before you’d come back on the scene. All of this, your suffering, your anguish, your pain it would have just been a vehicle for IAB to use to their advantage.

“You would have flipped him.” You find yourself saying. “Forced him to turn on his dealer, report to you about the other cops he had on his payroll.”

“That’s what my boss would have wanted.” Tucker tells you frankly. “Maybe this was a better ending.”

For who? You wonder because either way Paul’s crimes go unanswered for. It was as if none of it had ever happened.

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