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claireelizabeth85 · 2 days

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Come Home To Me - Chapter 6

John Egan x OC Female!Reader

Summary: When the idea of a past life turns out it isn't just an idea or a dream.

Warning: angst

AN: This is a work of fiction and is based on the TV characters from the Apple TV series. No disrespect is intended towards the real men of the 100th BG.

All previous chapters can be found here

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Lizzy's hands shook slightly as she clutched her coffee cup, taking a slow drag from her cigarette. Sitting outside the pub in the early morning quiet, she felt every rustle of the wind and distant murmur stir up echoes of her past life. Around her, the village was waking up; shadows stretched across the cobblestones, morphing into haunting memories she couldn’t escape. Each sound, rather than soothing, seemed to whisper back stories she wished she could forget. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, she exhaled a cloud of smoke and tried to push away the ghosts that lingered a little too close. Stubbing out her smoke, she made her way indoors, taking a seat opposite Sarah as they settled down to eat.

“I want to go home, Sarah. I can't stand being haunted by these memories anymore,” Lizzy muttered, her voice a fragile thread amidst the clatter of morning utensils.

Sarah leaned in, her eyes burning with a mix of concern and determination. “What? Are you sure? We’re on the brink of understanding why these memories are resurfacing now.”

Lizzy’s weary eyes met Sarah's. “What does it matter? It’s all past, isn’t it?”

“It’s never just the past with us, Lizzy. Remember your flight to Berlin in February ’45?” Sarah’s voice steadied, heavy with implication. She leaned in closer, her tone conveying the weight of her findings. “I've been digging through the archives, and I found the weather reports prepared on the day of your mission. They noted an unusual cloud bank, described in terms stupidly similar to other incidents years later."

She paused, letting the information sink in before continuing. “But it’s not just the weather reports—there’s more. I've also gone through the after-action reports from the crews who made it back. They spoke of disorientations and malfunctions that seemed to centre around that same cloud bank. It's been mentioned repeatedly, across decades, in different contexts. This isn’t just regular weather; it’s something else, something anomalous.”

Sarah pulled out a folder, stuffed with copies of the documents, and spread them out on the table. “These aren’t coincidences, Lizzy. There’s a pattern here that we can’t ignore. This cloud didn’t just appear in 1945—it’s been a recurring anomaly, linked with multiple unexplained phenomena and disappearances. And I think it’s linked to your memories.”

Lizzy’s fork hovered in mid-air, her appetite lost. “You think a cloud formation is the reason I’m reliving this….nightmare?” Sarah sighed exasperated. “It’s a theory, yes.”

Reluctantly, Lizzy glanced at the documents strewn across the table. They seemed to pulse with a foreboding energy, each page a reminder of her last moments in the skies over Berlin. “And you believe diving back into that” she pointed at the weather report with her fork, “will change what’s already done?”

“Yes,” Sarah countered sharply, her voice slicing through the quiet. “Because I can’t stand to see my best friend dissolve into shadows and whiskey. Maybe, just maybe, confronting this can bring you peace. I don’t know, maybe it’ll take you back to John.”

Lizzy's emotions flickered across her face—hope warring with fear. Before she could formulate a response, Sarah’s focus shifted abruptly to the entrance of the bar where Abigail had just entered followed by a man that was not her husband.

Rising abruptly, Sarah’s chair scraped back loudly against the floor. She approached the couple with a determined stride, her tone polite yet firm. Abigail, who Sarah had seen the day before at the museum, was now accompanied by a different man. He was tall with dark hair, cut into a neat, short back and sides but with enough length on top to style it. Sarah could hear their conversation and given his tone, the man was unimpressed.

“You’ve dragged me halfway across the world, to the middle of nowhere, on the word of an old lady. And for what? A pub breakfast?” Abigail frowned, equally unimpressed by his complaining. “If Nana believed her, then we should too. She wouldn’t send us on a wild goose chase without a reason. There’s more at stake here than you realise.”

Sarah coughed lightly to gain their attention. “I’m sorry to interrupt,” she began, holding up the photograph that had unexpectedly altered the course of her investigation. “I know you mentioned yesterday that your identity wasn’t of concern, but I need to understand who you are and where you got this photograph from.”

The tall, dark-haired man took the photograph with a furrowed brow. His initial confusion soon gave way to irritation. “Abigail, what the hell are you playing at?” His voice was tinged with frustration. Beside him, Abigail remained calm, her expression serene yet confident. She glanced at Sarah, her smile faint but reassuring. “Like I said, I believed her. There are bigger things at stake, one of them is that photograph.”

Sarah’s own confusion mounted. “So, you recognise the picture? Can you tell me when it was taken?” The man who had not been introduced looked over it and then looked back at Sarah. He shot a look of surprise at his sister before exhaling sharply. “Holy shit,” he muttered, the realisation hitting him. “I hate to admit it, but you were right, Abby.”

As he spoke, Abigail’s gaze was drawn to the table where Lizzy’s distant figure sat hunched over her plate, the man following her gaze. “Is that?” Abigail held his arm “Don’t say anything. She can’t know we’re here. She mustn’t know about us.”

He sighed, the fight going out of him as he stood still, the photograph in his hand. He glanced at it once more, a mixture of awe and resignation washing over him. “Alright, Abby. Let’s see where this goes. But if you’re wrong, you owe me more than just breakfast.”

Abigail nodded, her smile returning as she looked back at Sarah. “We’re here to help, however we can. What do you need to know?”

Sarah turned back to face the woman, her voice a mix of frustration and curiosity. "Why can't Lizzy know about you? What are you to her, and why this secrecy?"

The man accompanying Abigail, now clearly annoyed by the complexity of the situation, threw up his hands. "You have the answers, you explain it. I'm off to get some breakfast." He walked away, leaving the women to their tense exchange.

Abigail motioned for Sarah to sit back down, her expression solemn but with a hint of an authoritative tone. "Ignore him; he’s my older brother and he's always reminding me when I’ve overstepped. But he’s right about one thing—I did start this.” She gestured between herself and Sarah, linking them in the unfolding mystery. “And you're right, you know. You're on the right track."

She paused, her gaze intense and searching. "The key to all of this is Lizzy. She needs to fly again. That's the only way we can begin to untangle this mess."

Sarah scoffed, her scepticism evident. "And how do you propose we manage that? It’s not exactly easy to just hop into a B-17 these days."

Without missing a beat, Abigail slid a flyer across the table from her bag. "I can’t divulge too much about who I am—only that I’m…family. Someone very wise instructed me to come here at this precise moment, hand you that photograph, and ensure that we don’t repeat the mistakes of the past."

As Sarah examined the flyer—a promotional piece for an upcoming air show featuring a fully operational B-17—her mind raced. The plan was audacious, bordering on the insane, yet the urgency in Abigail's voice made it impossible to dismiss outright.

Abigail tapped the photo gently, her voice lowering to a near whisper, compelling and earnest. "And it’s not just Lizzy who needs to fly; you need to be there with her. This is about closing a loop, about healing wounds you both don't fully understand yet."

The enormity of the task weighed heavily on Sarah as she picked up the flyer. Just then, the man returned from the bar, his meal in tow, breaking the intensity of their discussion. As he sat, Sarah stood, clutching the photo and the flyer.

"One last question— who took this photograph?" she asked, needing some tangible connection to anchor the surreal task ahead.

Abigail's face softened, her eyes shimmering with a blend of pride and deep personal connection. "My maternal grandfather. He was there, right in the midst of it all, just like you are now."

With that connection made, Sarah felt a shift in her perspective. This was no longer just about diving into history or helping her best friend—it was personal. It linked them to a family story that spanned generations, wrapping Lizzy and her into a narrative bigger than they had imagined. She looked over at Lizzy, determination setting in. They had a plane to catch, and some history of their own to make.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Sarah and Lizzy were in the museum office, enveloped by the soft murmur of activity as Fred sorted through what they dubbed "donations" from Abigail, organising them into meticulously arranged piles. Despite the normalcy of the scene, Sarah’s mind was elsewhere, wrestling with information she wasn’t yet ready to share. With a casual air that belied her internal tension, she glanced over at Geoff and Fred.

"You wouldn’t happen to know who owns the bomber featured at this weekend’s air show, would you? Any chance we could get Lizzy on board?" she asked, her voice casual but tinged with an undercurrent of urgency.

Geoff and Fred exchanged a look of uncertainty. "We might be able to pull some strings," Fred replied, scratching his head thoughtfully.

"Could those strings possibly extend to Liz flying it?" Sarah probed further, the urgency now barely masked by her nonchalant stance.

The room was suddenly filled with a cacophony of concerns. Lizzy, typically more outspoken, only managed a half-hearted jest, "I haven’t flown in years!" Geoff, more grounded, pointed out, "She's been nearly drunk nonstop for a week; she'd need to sober up first." Fred, ever the sceptic, added, "Plus, her pilot’s licence isn’t even current."

Sarah raised her hands, silencing the room with a firm gesture. "This is about more than just licences or sobriety. Lizzy and I need to be on that plane, and we need to fly it to Germany. It’s our only shot at making things right."

Lizzy laughed, more out of disbelief than amusement. "You want to steal a B-17?"

Sarah's composure momentarily faltered, and she let loose a passionate outburst. "I’ve been buried in archives for days, uncovering everything about this damn bomb group and the hell they went through—the very hell you lived through! I can’t—and won’t—stand by and watch you disintegrate under the weight of haunting memories and a lost love so profound I can literally see it breaking your heart." Her voice softened as her eyes locked with Lizzy’s. "Getting on that plane might be our only chance to end these nightmares."

Lizzy’s scepticism, however, remained steadfast. "And what happens when we hit that cloud bank over Berlin? We just dive right into the middle of a war and hope for the best? I tried that once, remember? Look where it got me."

Sarah’s eyes hardened with resolve, her tone steely. "No more self-pity, Lizzy. And no more whiskey. You're going to get sober whether you like it or not, and you're getting ready to fly. Lieutenant,” she used Lizzy’s rank to underscore her point, causing Lizzy to straighten her posture, “you need to clean yourself up. Check if your flying overalls still fit and remember how to do your hair up properly because you’re going to look the part, even if I have to dress you myself. Understood?"

Lizzy put her glass down, mumbling a resigned “Yes, ma’am,” acknowledging Sarah’s uncompromising stance.

"The nightmares those men endured now plague me too," Sarah continued, her voice unwavering. "And I’ll be damned if we don’t at least try to see if flying through that cloud again can put an end to all this."

Turning back to Geoff and Fred with a determined yet composed look, Sarah requested, "Please, make the call. Let's see if we can list her as a pilot. I'm really counting on this to help her." She paused, her tone softening further, "And could we find a flying jacket that fits? you know how pilots are about the cold.”

Taglist:

@victoryrollsandredlips @bobparkhurst @prettyinlimegreenboots @ginabaker1666 @thedeviltohisangel

#John Egan x Lizzy Waterfield #Masters of the Air #Major John Egan #Lizzy Waterfield #Major Gale Cleven #Major Harry Crosby #Major Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal #Mota #mastersoftheair #mota fanfiction #sarah taylor (oc)#come home to me

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rmtndew · 1 year

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Come Home to Me

Summary: A weekend with Walter, Fiona and Faye as their little family grows closer.

Pairing: Marshall and OFC Fiona

Word count: 6,802

Rating: PG

Warnings: Mentions of a panic attack

I wasn’t sure what had happened. The day had started out fine. Walter and I had gotten to see each other for a little bit before we both left for work, which wasn’t always the case. We had coffee and breakfast together. I snuck extra snacks in his lunchbox while he was out warming up my car. It was a good morning. So where it went wrong, I couldn’t quite say. All I knew was that at some point in the afternoon, my anxiety started getting the best of me.

I ended up locking myself in the bathroom at work and having a panic attack, then feeling bad that I wasn’t actually working and the guilt just made the attack worse and last longer, which just continued to fuel the guilt. It was a cycle that kept feeding itself. I finally managed to get myself under control enough to go back to work but Darcy knew something was going on and she sent me home.

When I got in my car, I was feeling like garbage and needed to hear Walt’s voice, so I called him. I knew he might be busy and not be able to answer, but he did after just a couple of rings.

“Hey, love,” he said, his voice instantly making me feel better. “Is everything alright?”

I leaned my head back against the headrest of my seat. “I’m having a rough day.”

“What’s wrong?”

My teeth sunk into my lip as I chewed on it for a moment. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “A panic attack hit me out of nowhere. Darcy’s sending me home but I feel terrible that she has to do without me just because my stupid brain decided to have a random meltdown on Friday afternoon with literally no trigger.”

“Hey, do not talk about yourself like that, young lady. I won’t have it,” he said, his voice taking on a very fatherly tone that he’d never used with me before. “Your brain is not stupid. Do you hear me?”

I smiled. “Yes, bear, I hear you.”

“Good. Now I want you to come home.”

I raised my head up from the headrest. “Come home? Not go home?” I questioned. “As in, you’re already there?”

I could faintly hear him laugh. “I’m meant to be the detective in this family, Miss Sparks. Not you,” he teased. “But yes; I’m already here.”

“What are you doing home so early?”

“We were able to connect our murder to similar ones in different states so we had to hand it over to the FBI. We’ll work it alongside them but for today, there’s nothing else I can do. Not until they review it. So for now I’m at home. I was going to surprise you with dinner when you got off work but I’ll have to find something else to surprise you with, unless you want dinner at two in the afternoon?”

I laughed. “No. I just had lunch not long ago. I’m good. But you don’t have to surprise me with anything. Getting to spend the day with you is a good enough surprise.”

“Then come home to me, darling. Let me hold you.”

I felt myself grin. “I’m on my way now. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Fi. Be careful.”

When I got home, Walter greeted me outside on the doorstep. He was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants with socks. His perpetually tired look seemed packed away for the moment and strangely enough, he looked actually, well…rested. It wasn’t something I saw very often.

“Hiya, handsome,” I said, smiling at him as I walked up the steps.

He returned my smile. “Hey,” he said as I reached him. He pulled me in for a short kiss. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m alright.” He gave his little grunting-humming sound as if he didn’t believe me and I laughed. “I am alright,” I said. “I’m tired from my panic attack but just because it feels like I’m dying at the time, it doesn’t mean they can actually hurt me. So I’m okay.”

“Would a cuddle make you feel better?” he asked, the corner of his mouth ticking up in a slight smile.

My own smile couldn’t be bothered to play it cool. It spread across my whole mouth as I nodded. “Yeah, a cuddle would definitely make me feel better.”

“Good.”

He kissed my forehead, then took my hand and led me into the house. Inside, I stopped short in the entrance as I was greeted with the sight of the biggest blanket fort I’d ever seen. It was in the living room and made from the couch and kitchen chairs. Sheets were held to one another with heavy duty plastic clamps and draped across the whole thing, and inside I could see that it was stuffed with blankets and pillows.

“What’s this all about?” I asked.

He shrugged a shoulder as he looked a bit bashful. “I couldn’t surprise you with dinner but I thought this might turn your rough day around,” he said. “If it’s too childish -”

“Shh,” I said, cutting him off. “Sometimes childish is good. I could definitely use a break from being a grown up for a little bit.” I kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

As much as I wanted to crawl right into the fort, I wanted to get comfortable first. I changed into a pair of leggings and one of Walter’s shirts, happy to do away with my bra. Then I pulled on some thick, cozy socks and padded back out to the living room. Walter was already inside. I could see his feet sticking out and noticed that there was a hole in the bottom of his sock. I made a mental note to toss it and buy him a new pair. He must have heard me because he started moving around, then pulled back one of the sheets that was draped down over the front.

“There’s not quite so much room as I thought there’d be so it will be a bit of a squash and a squeeze in here,” he warned.

I smiled. “I was planning on squashing and squeezing you anyway, so that’s fine.”

I bent to my knees at the ‘doorway’ and kissed him. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me back as he laid down. The sheet dropped, covering the entrance to the fort and dimming the light inside. I gave Walt a final kiss, then lay my head down on his chest and wrapped my arm around his thick waist. He rubbed my back and ran his fingers through my hair, playing with strands of it.

“This is exactly what I needed and I didn’t even know it,” I said, rubbing my cheek against the soft fabric of his shirt. I could feel the texture of his chest hair beneath it. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, my love,” he said, then kissed my forehead.

My hand strayed from his waist, making its way under the hem of his shirt. “Can I touch you?”

He hummed. “Of course. But if it goes past that, we’ll have to take it out of the tent.”

“Afraid you’ll pull a muscle in here without more leg room?” I joked.

He laughed. “No. I ran out of blankets to put down under us so I borrowed Faye’s. I can’t do that to her stuff,” he said. “But also…pulling a muscle is a possibility.”

“I’ll behave myself then. On both accounts.” I slid my hand under his shirt and ran it across his stomach. He hissed and sucked in for a moment. I looked up at his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright. It just always surprises me how cold you are.”

I smiled. “That’s because you’re always so warm. Everything and everyone feels like an ice block in comparison.”

He laughed, his fingers dancing up my spine. “That’s true.”

I buried my fingers in the patch of hair on his stomach and let my hand warm up before moving it up to his chest. There was something so comforting about touching Walter. About feeling his skin against mine. He was warm and his hair was soft and I felt safe with my hand laying against his heart, feeling it beat underneath my palm. I kissed his chest through his shirt. “Thank you for loving me, bear.”

“Hey,” he said softly and I looked up at his face. “You never have to thank me for that. I’m honored that I get to love you.” His hand stilled at the back of my head, cradling it. “I never thought I’d be in love again. I thought I screwed it up with my marriage and that was it. But you gave me a second chance. And I know that I’m by no means perfect, and I know that I’ll manage to screw things up down the line somewhere, but now I know how important it is to try everything I can to make it work.” He brought his hand around to my cheek and stroked it with his thumb. “I’m not an easy person to love. I know that. But you never let me see how difficult it is, Fi. You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

I smiled. “I find you exceptionally easy to love, Walt. I’ve been in relationships before and I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you,” I said. “It breaks my heart to know that you have felt this way and you had to watch it fall apart even while you were trying to fix it. It hurts me to know you thought you’d never feel this way again.” I lightly scratched his skin through his chest hair. “But I am so happy that I get to be your second chance.”

That weekend was Walt’s weekend to have Faye. Typically he’d pick her up in the afternoon and bring her home. But on Saturday, I picked her up instead. My cousin Mel had invited the two of us to go to the mall with her and her daughter Juniper. One of Faye and Juniper’s friends was moving soon and she wanted to buy her a going away present and asked Faye to help. I was tagging along just to spend time with them. And to also get a cookie from the cookie shop.

“Didn’t this place used to be like, a big deal when you were our age?” Juniper asked Mel and me as we walked through the very empty shopping center.

“Oh, it was hopping back then. Saturdays were crazy and it would have already been packed by now,” Mel said. “But Fridays?” She looked at me. “Fiona and I were mall rats on Friday nights.”

“Ew. What’s a mall rat?” Juniper asked.

Mel and I both laughed. “It was someone who spent a lot of time at the mall,” Mel answered.

“What did you do here?” Faye asked, looking around at the closed stores.

“We’d just hang out,” I said. “We’d eat at the food court and walk around. Back then, there was a store in every part of the building and sometimes there were booths and kiosks set up in the center or walkways, too. It’s hard to picture but there was a lot more to look at than there is now.”

Mel nodded. “Which was good because Fiona and I had very different tastes at the time so there were stores for both of us.”

“Different how?” Juniper asked.

“Well, I was more concerned with buying push up bras from Victoria’s Secret and tube tops from Wet Seal, and she was wanting to buy American Eagle jeans and tank tops from Aeropostale,” Mel said. “We always agreed on the music store, though. We’d hit up F.Y.E. and look at CDs for hours.”

“What kind of music did you listen to?” Faye asked.

“At your age? Boy bands,” I said. “There were a lot of arguments over who was better: Backstreet Boys or NSYNC.”

“You listened to boy bands?” Juniper laughed.

“Yes, squirt. We listened to boy bands on our Walkmans while skating around the neighborhood together. And it was the best,” I said.

“It really was,” Mel agreed. “If we’d only known then.”

We walked through the mall, letting the girls take their time as they tried to decide what to buy their friend who was moving away. Nothing seemed to spark their interest until we came to the Build-A-Bear store. There was a cute stuffed penguin in the window that they seemed to spot at the same time. I guess their friend Lexi was a fan of penguins and collected them and making one for her seemed like the perfect gift to them. I thought it was sweet. And it reminded me that they were still young. Still innocent enough to want stuffed animals and to want to give them to each other. That time didn’t last long. With high school, boys, stress, anxiety, and everything that came with growing up, it would eventually wear that thread down and separate them from the things people deemed childish. But right then? Right then a stuffed penguin was the most genuine thing they could buy their friend to remember them by.

They wanted to do it on their own so Mel and I bought coffees and sat at a table just outside the shop where we could see them inside but they had the freedom to do it on their own like they wanted. As they moved to a different part of the store, Faye saw me and waved. I smiled and waved back, then she and Juniper disappeared behind the big machine with all of the stuffing inside it.

“She’s a good kid,” Mel said. “And you both seem to get along really well.”

“We do. I never thought this is where I’d end up. You know that. When did I ever picture myself with a guy who had a kid? Especially a teenager?”

She shook her head. “Never. And honestly, it was a surprise when I found out you were dating him.”

“It could have gone so bad. She could have hated me. I mean, I remember being fourteen. I remember how angry I was at that age. And I had basically a perfect life. If Mom and Dad had gotten divorced and I had to watch some odd, gangly lady hit on Dad? I would have hated her.”

Mel laughed. “You’re not an odd gangly lady,” she said. “And I know for a fact you weren’t ‘hitting on’ her dad in front of her. You don’t even know how to flirt so you definitely weren’t forcing that with his daughter around.”

“You know what I’m saying, though. She really could have hated me and no one would have blamed her for it.”

“I’m sure she was worried you might hate her, too. Juniper has friends who’s step-moms want nothing to do with them. Faye probably knows the exact same girls.”

“That’s something I never understood and I understand it even less now that I’m with Walt,” I said. “Why would you ever get into a relationship with a guy who has kids if you don’t want anything to do with them? And why would you want to be with someone who could abandon their own kid that easily? I just…” I shook my head. “I don’t get it. Honestly, I don’t.”

“I don’t get it, either, Fi. Some people are just selfish, I guess.”

It took the girls close to an hour to do their thing. Mel and I talked and people watched while they did, occasionally catching glimpses of them in the store. Finally we could see them get in line to pay. Once I saw they were nearly done, I drank the rest of my coffee and took my and Mel’s cups to the trash. I was walking back to the table when Walt called.

“Um…listen,” he said with a sigh after we’d greeted each other. “I know we both loathe socializing but…my cousin called. He lives out of state and we rarely get to see one another, but he’s been away for holiday and he’s having a layover here and wants to visit. I told him he could.”

“A cousin? I finally get to meet another branch of the Marshall tree? I’m very intrigued.”

He did his grunting-humming thing. “Before you get your hopes up, he’s not like me. He…talks. A lot.”

I laughed as I joined Mel back at our table. “Are you saying your brooding nature may not be genetic?”

He chuckled. “No. That’s the English coming out in me. But you’ll see soon enough. I’m heading to the airport to go get him now,” he said. “I thought instead of cooking tonight we could go out for dinner. Do you and Faye want to meet us when you’re done?”

“Yeah, that sounds good. Just let me know where you’re going after you pick him up and we’ll meet you.”

“Thank you, love. See you soon.”

I hung up as Faye and Juniper were coming out of the store. Juniper was holding the traditional Build-A-Bear gift box that looked like a house and Faye was holding a plastic gift bag. They came and sat at the table with us and Juniper showed us the stuffed penguin they made. It was pale blue and wearing a scarf and ice skates. It was adorable. I didn’t know their friend Lexi but I couldn’t see how she wouldn’t love it. When she was done, Faye showed us what was in her bag. I had assumed it was something that would go with the penguin, but I was wrong. She pulled out a teddy bear with dark brown fur that was dressed in jeans and a blue sweater.

“Aw, how cute!” I said. “Did you make it for yourself?”

“Actually I…made it for you,” she said, her mouth twisting off to the side in a worried look that reminded me so much of Walter. She held the bear out towards me.

“For me?” I asked, taking it from her. She nodded. “Faye, that was so sweet! Thank you!” I didn’t know why she’d made it for me but I couldn’t stop smiling as I looked him over. After a moment, I saw that there was a police badge clipped to the side of his pants and suddenly it all clicked for me. “Wait…” I looked back to her, grinning. “Is this your dad?”

She nodded again but smiled properly that time. “The sweater looked like one of his and when I saw the police badge I thought it would be fun to make him for you. You know, since you call him ‘bear’.”

“It’s perfect. I love it! My own little Walter Bear for when he’s not home.”

“I thought maybe he can be friends with the monkey and hedgehog that Dad won you at Naples.”

My face hurt from smiling so wide. “Yes! He’ll make an excellent friend for them. Thank you.”

She leaned over and hugged me and I hugged her back tight. I couldn’t imagine trying to push Faye out of the picture. She was an extension of Walter and if I loved him, then I had to love her. She wasn’t a burden in our relationship; she was a bonus.

Once they had their penguin, the girls were done with the mall. Faye and I said bye to Mel and Juniper and then we went to my car. Walter texted as I was getting it warmed up and said that he and his cousin were going to a diner that was about midway between the airport and the mall and sent me the address. When we got there, I saw Walter’s truck. He and his cousin were standing at the tailgate, waiting for us. There wasn’t a parking spot beside it but there was one directly across from it. As I parked, Faye turned her head to look at Walter.

“Wait, who’s that with Dad?” she asked and I realized that I’d forgotten to tell her about her cousin. She unbuckled so she could peer through the back window better. Then she gasped. “Is that…? It is!” She flung open her door and started clambering to get out.

“Watch for cars!” I told her.

I watched her go across the short distance to Walter and once she was safely there, I turned off the car and grabbed my purse, then joined them. Faye was being swallowed up in a hug by their cousin who I was surprised to see was bigger than Walt. They seemed to match each other height wise but he was broader. After he released Faye, he looked at me and I could see the family resemblance. If I hadn’t known better, I would have thought they were brothers. Walter’s cousin had shorter hair than him but they shared the same brown curls, they sported the same thick beard, and their eyes were practically identical. And when he smiled at me, he even had the same lines that crinkled around them just like Walter’s.

“You must be Fiona,” he said, his voice surprising me with the thick southern accent.

“I am.” I held out my hand and he shook it. “You must be one of the Texas cousins, right?”

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. I’m Sy. It’s nice to finally meet you,” he said. “Walter ain’t much of a talker but I knew you had to be something special because he won’t shut up about you anytime we do talk.”

I smiled. “I hope he doesn’t bore you too much.”

He shook his head as he let go of my hand. “Not at all. I’m happy for him,” he said. “And I appreciate y’all letting me visit. I know it was last minute but I hadn’t been planning on coming this way until my flights got mixed up heading back from vacation and I ended up here. Then my layover got extended until later tonight and I figured if I didn’t come by now, it’d be a while before I got the chance to again.”

“Of course. I’m excited to meet you. Walt has already met a lot of my family but Faye is the only one from his that I’ve gotten to meet in person so far. I’ve spoken to his parents and Charlie on the phone a few times but that’s it. So it’s nice to put a face to a name now.”

“Same,” he said. “Although, for me it’s putting your voice to your face because Walt sent me your picture not long after y’all started dating. Told me he was going to marry you.”

“Stop,” Walter ordered as I laughed.

“What? You don’t want her to know how love sick you are?” Sy teased. Walter gave him a stern look but Sy just grinned at him before clapping his hand on his shoulder. “I bet you wished you’d ignored my call earlier, huh?”

“I can still send you back to the airport,” Walter said.

Sy laughed. “Yeah but you won’t.”

“You have far too much faith in that.”

“If you do, I’ll call your momma and tell her what you did.”

Walter crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ll call Mum and tattle on me?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. “Like we’re twelve again?”

Sy gave another laugh and nodded. “Yep. Just like that. I ain’t got no shame about it.”

“You don’t have shame about anything.”

I saw Sy’s face do the same frowning-smile that I’d seen Walter do before. “You’re not wrong.”

“I rarely am,” Walt said

“Can we go inside? I’m freezing and I want a milkshake,” Faye said.

Sy laughed. “That makes sense. You’re cold, so let’s drink something frozen.”

“It makes as much sense as drinking coffee when it’s hot outside. It’s like a hundred degrees in Iraq in the summertime and you were there for ten years, did you not drink coffee at all in the summer?”

“Coffee is what keeps people alive. It’s different.”

“And milkshakes are what makes being alive worth it.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I can’t really disagree with you on that one, kiddo,” he said. “So let’s go get us a milkshake.”

“Banana and peanut butter?” she asked, looking up at him.

“You and your daddy can keep that one for yourselves. I’ll take chocolate.”

Walter grabbed my hand and gave it a light squeeze before he began walking towards the diner, leading me with him. I turned and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder and before I could move my head, he kissed the top of it.

Once we were inside, we didn’t have to wait long for a table. Walter and I sat together and Sy sat next to Faye. She borrowed a pen from me and flipped her paper placemat over and started doodling on it. “You said you were coming back from vacation,” she said to Sy. “Where did you go?”

“I went to Florida with some of my old army buddies.”

“Was it fun?”

“It was alright. They seemed to enjoy it,” he said. “Me personally? I’ve seen enough sand in my lifetime, I don’t have any desire to ever set foot on it again.”

“Are you still in the army?” I asked.

He shook his head. “No, ma’am. I retired a few years ago. I felt like I needed to be closer to home,” he said. “I’m a firefighter now.”

I smiled. “Did you and Walter ever consider jobs that weren’t superheroes?”

He laughed. “There was a minute where I thought I might want to be a chef, but that was it. I was stuck on being in the army since I was a little kid. As a matter of a fact, when Walt and his family would come visit us, me and him would usually be out in the woods playing army men or SWAT team. It didn’t surprise anyone when we both ended up going that way with our careers.”

“Walt went on his first SWAT raid since we’d been together last week and I was a nervous wreck until he called me and told me he was safe after it was over. I don’t know how your families handled you both being in dangerous fields like that.”

“We put them through a lot, that’s for sure,” Sy said.

“You longer than me,” Walter pointed out. “I’ve stayed relatively safe in homicide. You jumped out of the frying pan into the fire with your job change. Quite literally.”

“I did but you know I couldn’t have done anything else. I mean, can you imagine me in a suit every day going into an office and selling…insurance or something?” Sy shook his head. “There’s not a lot of civilian jobs that would’ve worked for me,” he said. “Same for you. If you left homicide right now, tell me that you could take a job where you didn’t have a gun on you twenty-four-seven.”

“You know I couldn’t.”

“Exactly,” he said. “Coming home didn’t have nothing to do with being safer or not putting my life on the line for other people. It just meant doing it closer to my family. I get to see them more. I don’t miss out on stuff like I used to. And if I die doing this, they don’t have to wait for a casket to be sent home so they can bury me.”

“That’s depressing,” Faye said, looking at him.

“But it’s the truth.” He put his hand on her head and ruffled her hair. “We won’t talk about it anymore, though,” he said. “Tell me what’s been going on with you? How’s school?”

“It’s…meh.”

“I heard it was a little more than ‘meh’. I heard you broke a boy’s finger a few weeks ago.”

Faye looked at Walter. “Dad, you told him?”

“Did I tell him that my daughter stood up for herself when a boy put his hands on her? Yes.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because he was proud,” Sy answered for him. “In our day, girls were taught that if boys were mean to her it meant he liked her. The moment your daddy found out you were going to be a girl, he was determined to make sure you knew that wasn’t true and you knew how to take up for yourself. Not just as a kid but when you get older, too.”

“Especially when you get older. It doesn’t get better, it’s just different,” Walter said. “Because no matter the age, men are -”

“Pigs, yes,” Faye said, shaking her head. “I know.”

“He’s right. And he should know all about it,” Sy said to her. “Because cops are pigs, too.”

I didn’t mean to laugh but I couldn’t help the snort that came out. Walter looked at me. “Really?” he asked, with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized.

“If they call cops pigs, what do they call firefighters?” Faye asked Sy.

“Heroes.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing that time. Walter watched my face and shook his head at me before looking back to Sy. “You’re paying for this meal,” he said. “And I’m getting pie afterwards.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

I liked having dinner with Sy. He and Walter playfully bickered throughout the whole meal and it was nice to see Walt joking around with someone. And Sy wasn’t intimidated. Even when I thought Walter may have said something that crossed the line, Sy would just laugh and dish it right back. They clearly loved each other, even though it didn’t necessarily always sound like it.

After we ate, Walter and Faye went to the front of the diner to look at the dessert case and I stayed with Sy. “You’re good for him,” he said. “I haven’t seen him this happy since…well, I don’t know when. But it’s been a long time, that’s for sure.”

I smiled. “He makes me happy, too.”

“I wouldn’t say this in front of Faye but Walt never had with Angie what y’all seem to have,” he said. “I know he loved her at the time but that’s not always enough.”

“Despite what the Beatles say?” I joked.

He laughed. “Yes, ma’am. You need love but love isn’t all you need,” he said. He was quiet for a moment but I could see it was because he was thinking so I waited. “He told me how you said you were proud of him. Proud of what he does, who he is.”

I felt a little taken aback that he would mention that but I nodded. “I am. I’m incredibly proud of him.”

“See…you’ve got to understand that Walt doesn’t hear that much. He never has. His father is the typical Englishman and keeps all his emotions buttoned up. He didn’t brag on him or Charlie ever. Not out of meanness but just ‘cause that’s how he was raised. And his mother, my aunt, she’s sweet and she made sure Walt and Charlie knew she loved them but it was still done with her husband’s English mentality of only a few words,” he said.

“Then when he met Angie, she never liked him being a part of SWAT. She wanted him to change to something less dangerous. He held his ground until she had Faye and then he changed over to being a detective, but it still wasn’t what she wanted.” He let out a breath. “The point is…he’s always tried hard and it’s never really been acknowledged. At this point, he does it because that’s just who he is. He runs himself into the ground to do his job. And you are the first person who’s just flat out told him you’re proud of him like that.”

I remembered the night I’d told Walter how proud I was of him and he’d cried. I’d just thought he was exhausted but hearing Sy talk about it brought a new light to it. Especially knowing it had meant enough for him to tell Sy about it. “I’ll make it a point to tell him more often then.”

“Whether you know it or not, that man takes everything you say to heart. The amount of times we talk and he says, ‘Fiona said this’, ‘Fi said that’, is more than I can count, honestly. And I don’t have a problem with it. Because everything he tells me is something good. I just…I know he’s not great at opening up so I know he probably hasn’t told you what it meant to him but…it meant a lot.”

“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “I’m glad he has you to talk to.”

“I’m glad I’ve got him, too,” he said as Walt and Faye began walking back towards us. Sy shook his head at me. “Just don’t tell him I told you that. Far as he knows, I only like to call and agitate him.”

I smiled then mimed zipping my lips. “I won’t say a word about it.”

We stayed at the diner probably longer than the staff would normally be happy about but despite Walter’s quiet, introverted nature, Sy was loud and outgoing and made friends with our waitress fast. He explained the situation about catching up with family while killing time - two birds with one stone, he said - and the woman, who looked old enough to be his grandmother, told him to take all the time he needed. For every ‘sweetheart’ and ‘honey’ she called him, he flashed her a grin and made sure to use all of his manners. I could hear Walter quietly groaning at his antics, but I found it fascinating. They looked so much alike and were clearly close but they were so different from one another.

When we finally left the diner, it was dark out. The already cold air had grown almost frigid and even with my coat on, I was shivering. So we didn’t linger with goodbyes. Faye gave Sy a hug, then huddled next to Walter for warmth. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to his side. Sy turned to me then.

“You alright with a hug or is it too soon?” he asked.

I smiled. “No, I’m alright with it. I feel like I’ve known you longer than four hours.”

“It feels like six at least, right?” he joked.

I laughed and nodded. “At least, yeah.” He opened his arms and pulled me into a big bear hug and I noticed that he ran warm just like Walter. I hadn’t realized that ‘human space heater’ was an inheritable trait until then. “It was really nice meeting you, Sy. If you were going to get stuck somewhere with a delayed flight, I’m glad you got stuck with us.”

“It was good meeting you, too,” he said. He released me from our hug and took a step back. “And I definitely could’ve gotten stuck somewhere worse. Like the airport Quiznos.”

“That would have been much worse,” I agreed with a laugh. “Next time you’ll have to come back on purpose and we can cook for you at the house instead of you paying for us to eat out.”

“That sounds like a deal.” He looked at Walter then tilted his head towards the truck. “We better mosey on down to the airport.”

Walter gave Faye a hug, then gave me a kiss goodbye, then he watched the two of us get into the car and leave the parking lot. Once we got home, Faye and I both changed into pajamas then made hot chocolate to drink while we watched a show about baking fails in the living room while we waited for Walter to come home. But she fell asleep about half an hour into it. I did my best to make her comfortable there, carefully placing a pillow under her head and covering her up with a blanket and tucking her in. Then I made sure the doors were locked and sent Walter a text telling him that I was getting ready for bed and to try to be quiet as he came in because Faye was asleep on the couch.

After washing my face and brushing my teeth, I went to our bedroom. I saw Walter Bear in his bag and I took him out, spraying him with some of the real Walter’s cologne, then put him on his side of the bed before turning out the lights and laying down. I had a hard time sleeping on my own anymore so I was awake when Walt came home. He was trying to be quiet but he was so heavy that his boots made a clomping sound as he came down the hall towards our room. He carefully pushed the cracked door open, allowing himself inside before closing it completely.

“Hey,” I whispered to him.

He froze by the bed. “Hey,” he whispered back. “Did I wake you?”

“No. I was too lazy to get my weighted blanket and without it or you, I can’t sleep,” I said. “Did Sy get on his flight okay?”

“Yeah. Thank you for letting him join us, by the way. I know it wasn’t what we had planned for this evening.”

“We were planning on having dinner with Faye to celebrate your weekend off, that’s what we did. We just had an extra guest,” I said. “One, who, is quite entertaining, by the way.”

My eyes had adjusted to the dark and I watched him shake his head as he walked to his dresser. “Don’t ever tell him that. He will take it and run.”

I smiled. “I like him. He’s nice. And really funny. I loved the stories he told about you two as teenagers.”

He groaned as he began emptying his pockets. “He embellishes things, by the way. Not all of those were true,” he said. “But he liked you, too. Though you are far more likable, so that makes sense.”

“So I have his seal of approval?”

He turned towards me as he pulled his sweater over his head, followed by his t-shirt, then tossed them in the clothes hamper. “You do.”

“Did you really tell him that you were going to marry me after we met?”

He let out a sigh as he kicked off his boots. Then he unbuckled his jeans and tugged them off. “Not that soon but…yes, I told him that I wanted to marry you fairly early on,” he said. “Does that bother you?”

“Bother me? No. I think it’s sweet.”

He came to the bed and pulled the covers back but stopped short of climbing in beside me. I didn’t know why until he held up my teddy bear. “And who is this?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

I smiled as I took it from him. “This is Walter Bear,” I said. “Faye made him for me today.”

He looked confused as he finally lay down beside me. “She made you a stuffed animal version of me?”

“Yeah, because I call you ‘bear’,” I said. “It was really sweet of her. They’re not cheap. So I’m tasking you with somehow funneling money from me back to her without her knowing that I’m paying for it.”

He laughed and shook his head. “No you’re not.”

“She paid for it with her own money.”

“And I will give her an extra allowance or something but you’re not paying for a gift that she gave you.”

“I can bring her extra cookies home.”

He did his frowny thought face as he squinted. “You could bring me extra cookies home and I’ll funnel the money.”

I laughed. “You’re easily bought, mister.”

“Only by you, Miss Sparks.”

I reached out and put my hand on his cheek. “When we get married, are you still going to call me Miss Sparks or will you call me Mrs. Marshall?”

“You still want to marry me?” he asked, his voice quiet.

I smiled and nodded. “You’re the only man I’ve ever wanted to marry.” I brushed my thumb against his skin softly. “Most girls dream about their weddings - my cousin Mel even had this big binder full of things that she ripped out of magazines that she wanted for hers - but I never did that. I never pictured myself in that position,” I said. “Even now, I don’t think in terms of a big wedding. I don’t see colors or a cake or a reception. I see you and me. Exchanging rings, or having a first dance, but that’s it. Everything else is hazy and in the background. The only thing I see clearly is…you.”

He was quiet for a moment then softly nodded his head against his pillow. “I see you clearly, too, Fi.”

#Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill fan fiction #Walter Marshall #Walter Marshall fan fiction #Night Hunter #Night Hunter fan fiction #Nomis #Nomis fan fiction #Detective Walter Marshall #Detective Walter Marshall fan fiction #Come Home to Me

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