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callsign-bunnie · 1 year

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Some Gaz and Alex fluff. They meet as teenagers at a beach and Gaz watches Alex surfing/playing beach volleyball and they have a cute summer romance.

I'm not really good at writing teen romances. However, I thought this was a funnier idea.

Gaz was having a conundrum. Of course, between falling out of two helicopters, having just gotten rid of a corrupted American General, and then constantly having to deal with a cartel leader who couldn’t quite decide if she was the group Vodka Aunt or their worst nightmare…

When was Gaz not having a conundrum?

Whatever, Gaz was having a massive conundrum. The biggest conundrum. The worst conundrum. What was the origin of the word conundrum, anyway?

Focus, Gaz. The conundrum.

(The origin is unknown, but it was recorded as early as the 1600s so it’s an old word. It sounds like something that Shakespeare would make up.)

He and Alex had been dating for a while and the fact that he had only just put the pieces together, now, was honestly embarrassing. So embarrassing, in fact, that he just had to tell Price about it. Price was close enough to his dad and Laswell was currently with the aforementioned CIA agent on a mission for Farah. And, seeing as it was almost Christmas…

Well, it was November, but who fucking cares?

Anyway.

Gaz had waited until it was just him and Price at the ranch house before plopping down on the emerald green couch beside Price. He paused, touching over the material. He knew Rudy had picked all of the furniture and… damn. He had taste. It felt expensive. Fuck, it looked expensive.

Focus, Gaz! The conundrum!

“Sir, I need to talk to you about something.”

Price paused where he’d been reading a book, his reading glasses on, and he looked up at the wall. “Can it wait, Garrick?”

“No it cannot. It is fairly important. I am having a conundrum.” Gaz looked at Price, who didn’t move. He narrowed his eyes at the cover of the book. “The Twin Flames of Desire?” He raised an eyebrow, watching his Captain turn a deep dark shade of red. “Isn’t that- Isn’t that a firefighter erotica? That one that Soap was gushing over about the two firefighters who meet and charm that librarian? It turns out they’re both fucking and they want the librarian to join them as their third?” It was an MLM erotica. Gaz didn’t read many eroticas and, in fact, Soap had mentioned listening to the audiobook.

But, Soap had went over the plot in excruciating detail to Rudy and Gaz and Gaz remembered Price had been in the room, too. He hadn’t thought he was listening, though.

“Alright, alright!” Price dog-eared the page and put the book down. “You have my attention, Garrick.”

“Nah, nah, the conundrum can wait a minute.” Gaz shook his head. “I didn’t know you had such… proclivities, captain.” He chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I thought you and Nik were rather… uh…”

“Oh, can it!” Price huffed. “I’m a 37 year old man, of course I have.. proclivities. Don’t be juvenile, sergeant.”

“My apologies, Captain, I’m just taking the piss a little.” Gaz laughed, finding how flustered Price seemed to be getting to be a little amusing.

Price rolled his eyes. “Don’t get cheeky. Just tell me the damn conundrum.”

“Right,” Gaz nodded and straightened back up. “But first… I have to tell you a story.”

Price groaned. “Gaz, can you just tell me the problem? I don’t have time for a story.”

“My apologies, I’ll just leave you with… what was his name? Damian Flame?” Gaz joked, making a motion as if he was about to stand.

“God, fine, you can tell me whatever story as long as you promise to never bring this up again.” Price rolled his eyes. “I found it in Rodolfo’s library, can’t you go tease him about it?”

“No, because that tracks for Rodolfo.” Gaz shook his head. “I doubt he’d even be ashamed over it. You, on the other hand….”

“The story, Garrick.”

Gaz laughed. “Right.” He nodded and sighed, trying to figure out where to start. “So… when I was 14, my foster family and I went to the states on vacation.”

Kyle looked around as his foster family went down to the beach. There were a decent amount of them, but most of them were teenagers at that rate. Well… Kyle was the youngest, so all of them were teenagers. He was 15, in fact, though he was pretty tall for being 15.

“Kyle!” His foster mother called and Kyle quickly jogged over, frowning.

“Yes?” He asked when he got close, watching her spread out a blanket. Already, his mind was counting his foster siblings nearby, seeing who all had already ditched them for the water.

There were 10 of them, total, but he could only count four, not including himself. Then he could spot the others scattered around the beach, already taking part in activities. It made sense, most of his foster siblings were more social than he was. Kyle was… well, a bit of an introvert. He didn’t mind it, but he definitely wasn’t going to find himself participating in volleyball or anything like that.

Definitely going to swim, though.

He turned to his foster mother before helping her use the cooler to weigh down the blanket, accepting a popsicle when she offered it. “Did you need anything else?” He asked, assuming she’d just wanted help.

“Yes,” she nodded. “You know how your sister is, I need to talk to the lifeguards about her accommodations.”

Kyle resisted rolling his eyes. One, because he did not think she had to do that, and two because of course she was getting him to do it. She knew he didn’t really like talking to new people, which was probably why she was asking him. He knew it wasn’t out of malicious intent, she just felt it was her duty to prepare him for the real world.

The real world… the mysterious other world that everyone kept telling him to get ready for. As if he was being sent on a rocketship to a mysterious other planet.

Kyle still nodded and said he would do it, turning and looking around for the little building the lifeguard resided in. Well, he spotted the tower first, before seeing that the building was built into it, and then he spotted the lifeguard.

His mind stuttered as his eyes caught on him. He was tall, quite a bit taller than Kyle, but seeing as he was clearly an adult and Kyle was only 15, that made sense. Blonde and toned and… bloody gorgeous. Oh no. Oh no no no.

Kyle knew he was gay. That… was fairly obvious. His foster family knew, too, and they had stated many times that they didn’t care. He didn’t necessarily just randomly tell other people, but he had the feeling it was fairly obvious.

He took a deep breath. “Mum, are you sure you can’t get David to do it?”

“Kyle, I asked you to. Just go talk to them and tell them I need to talk to them.”

Kyle did stop to question why she wasn’t just going to the tower and talking to them, herself, but he shrugged that off and took a deep breath. “Alright… I will.” He more mumbled it, doubting she even heard, and he finally took the first step.

His heart quickened as he approached the lifeguard’s tower and he glanced in the building, praying there was another lifeguard who was closer to his age or… not completely gorgeous in the building but… it was empty.

It made sense. He glanced around, noticing that the beach didn’t appear super busy, and so it made sense that they’d only have one Lifeguard. It was also Wednesday… He finally allowed himself to look up, glad to see the Lifeguard was not looking at him.

Instead, he was looking out at the beach through sunglasses. Aviators, he was pretty sure they were called.

“Um…” Kyle winced at how weak his voice was. “E-Excuse me!” He finally managed, turning dark red at how almost squeaky his voice was. God, this was mortifying.

However, it had worked because then the lifeguard was looking down at him and he was half grinning, dropping down in front of Kyle. Kyle quickly stumbled back, putting some distance between them and trying so very hard not to let his eyes wonder. “You need something?” The lifeguard asked.

Kyle clenched his hands into fists, forcing his eyes to look anywhere else, settling on an umbrella in the distance. “My um… My mum needs to talk to you. My sister, she has these accommodations-”

“Oh, cool.” The lifeguard nodded and then ducked into the building. Kyle leaned into the building, confused.

Kyle frowned and watched him as he sat down at the chair in there, noticing a computer. And that the building had a floor. Huh, he didn’t know they had like… things in them. He just thought they were little buildings for shade. He ducked back as the lifeguard looked at him, blushing dark.

“You can come in, kid.” The lifeguard laughed. “I don’t bite.”

Oh, that statement did embarrassing things to Kyle’s brain. His brother, David, would have likely responded with “not even if I ask nicely?” But Kyle absolutely was not saying that. This was embarrassing. He peeked back in before shaking his head, deciding to go with the safe option and just not.

The Lifeguard frowned before shrugging and then he was grabbing a clipboard, sticking a paper in it, and coming back out. “Can you take this to your mom and then tell her I’ll come talk to her in like thirty minutes when my shift ends? Braeden should be here to relieve me and I’ll go over details so I can tell everyone else. Cool?”

Kyle blinked, staring at the clipboard. “Yeah, I can.” He took the clipboard, trying not to blush again. God, get it together, Kyle. He hugged the clipboard and backed up, watching the lifeguard go back up the stairs to the top of the tower. “Oh, wait!” He called before he could stop himself. “My mum will want to know your name!”

“Alex!” The lifeguard called back down, leaning against the rail of the tower, again. “I’m the only one on staff with that name!”

“Awesome.” Kyle mumbled and finally ran off to go talk to his mom again. He held out the clipboard when he got close to her, relaxing when she took it. “He’s the only lifeguard, so he’ll come talk to you when his shift ends in thirty minutes.”

His mom looked down at the clipboard and then shrugged. “What’s his name?” She asked as she got out a pen, starting to fill out the paperwork.

Kyle blushed. “Alex.” He liked having the lifeguard’s name. He knew there was no chance in hell but… At least he had a name. Alex. It was simple, likely something he’d find in his sister’s romance books.

He glanced back over at the lifeguard, seeing he was now talking to another lifeguard who had likely just arrived. Huh, he hadn’t thought it’d been thirty minutes, yet. But, as he watched Alex move, hating that he was able to pick up how his swim shorts hung off his hips a little, revealing a v-line that Kyle had to fight his mind not to take interest in.

God, the fucking sunshine was reflecting off his fucking abs…

Yeah, Alex was definitely the guy on the cover, too. He hoped Alex wouldn’t have too many shifts or else this summer would be torturous… He quickly looked away, turning dark red as Alex glanced at him. Fuck. Don’t be fucking obvious, you idiot.

He looked at his mum, who was continuing to fill out paperwork. Then he was being shoved, lightly, almost losing his balance. He huffed and turned to look at David, who was laughing. “Kyle’s got a crush.”

“I do not!” Kyle immediately defended.

David just laughed harder. “Yes you do! It’s so obvious! Anyway, I was coming over to ask if you wanted to come with me and these girls I just met to the surf beach tomorrow.”

“You don’t surf.” Kyle made a face. Neither did he, for that matter. They were both on the swim team, but… Kyle was planning to quit and David sucked at it. He narrowed his eyes. “And I’m guessing these are pretty girls?”

“They’re total fucking babes.”

“You’re british!” Kyle exclaimed. “You don’t even use that lingo!” He crossed his arms and then groaned as David put his hands together and made a pleading face. “Prick. Fine. We can go to the surf beach. But I’m not saving your ass if you fall off your board. What did you tell them?”

David winced, looking sheepish. “I may have told them… that I was a surf champion in England…”

“You. Don’t. Surf.” Kyle slapped his forehead, groaning.

“Well, I don’t plan on getting on a surfboard.” David shrugged. “I’ll charm them with my wit, and then they’ll never even notice that I’m not on a board. Besides, I just want to get with the main one. Look at her.”

Kyle looked to where David gestured, seeing a girl around their age. Well, David’s age, since he was 16, and seeing a blonde girl. She had obviously permed hair and she was… wearing hoops at the beach. Clearly, she didn’t plan on swimming, regardless, and her swimsuit was rather showy… Of course David went for that one. “You think you have a chance with her?” Well, he looked at David.

David had been adopted from Korea. However, he was as tall as Kyle, and he had a considerable amount of charisma. And a stupid amount of confidence. A dangerous amount of confidence. Kyle had watched him manage to get with girls way out of his league…

David grinned and puffed out his chest. “No. But I’m gonna try, anyway.”

“Great.” Kyle rolled his eyes. He yelped as he was suddenly shoved over, watching David laugh and run off. “Prick!” He called and brushed sand off himself, groaning. Falling in sand fucking hurt.

“Hey, you okay?”

Oh no… Fucking David! Kyle winced and looked up at Alex, who was offering his hand to help Kyle up. Kyle blushed dark, knowing David had to have done this on purpose. He hesitantly accepted the hand, letting Alex help him up and then quickly letting go and pulling away.

Alex smiled at him. “You good?”

He had his sunglasses off, now, and they were folded on the lanyard which had his whistle on it. Kyle blushed darker and quickly pulled his eyes up before he started to look at the skin around it. Alex looked concerned. “Did you hit your head?”

Kyle quickly shook his head. “No. Just fell on my back. Yeah, I’m fine.” He was not fine, this was embarrassing and he was going to kill David.

“Hello, you must be Alex.” His mum finally came over, catching Alex’s attention. She offered a hand, which Alex shook, and Kyle glanced around for David, seeing he was over by the girls again.

David grinned when he saw him and waved him over, so Kyle rolled his eyes and went over. “I’m going to kill you.” He muttered when he got close.

David laughed. “The girls,” he gestured around the group of four girls, and Kyle just sort of nodded at them, “said that that lifeguard that’s talking to Mom is a surfer, too.”

Oh no.

“Oh?” Kyle pinned David with a glare, getting an idea where this was going. “And what about it?”

“They said he should be at the surf beach tomorrow.” David grinned. “Apparently lots of the girls fawn over him, but he’s… you know…” He gestured.

“He’s gay!” One of the girls spoke up. Kyle noticed she looked a lot like Tiffany. Like… uncannily like Tiffany, who was standing right next to her. But, her hair was straight. “It’s horrible.”

Kyle knew they likely weren’t being homophobic, probably just lamenting that this meant he wouldn’t be interested in them, but he still had to fight hard not to say something. He looked at the sky for a moment before taking a deep breath. “Interesting.” He mumbled. “David, can I talk to you?”

“Yeah, sure.” David answered, so Kyle grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the group. “Ouch.”

“I’m going to kill you.” Kyle glared at him. “I need you to know that. Watch your fucking back this entire vacation because when you least expect it, I will be there.”

“Christ, okay, Batman.” David pulled his arm away and rubbed it. “Bloody hell. I was doing you a favor. Clearly you like him.”

“He’s an adult.”

“Ah! He’s just turned 18. Like a week ago.” David defended. “You’re 15 and a half! That’s only like… a two and a half year age difference!”

This was not helping Kyle’s resolve to kill David. “It’s weird.”

“Nah…” David grinned. “I’m just trying to be your wingman. Come on, mate, live a little.” He punched Kyle’s shoulder and Kyle resisted punching him. In fact, he had a very vivid image of it flashing through his head.

Kyle looked away, seeing Alex was now joking with his mom. Well… maybe it’d be nice to watch him surf. If he was with that group of girls, he’d likely just be able to pass it off as watching because they were. “Fine, fine.” He muttered. “But, on one condition.”

“Oh no.” David winced. “What is it?”

“You have to try to surf in front of everyone.” Kyle grinned, crossing his arms. “Then, I’ll come.”

David groaned. “You’re fucking evil. Fine. Bloody hell… Pure evil, Kyle.”

Kyle stuck his tongue out before shaking his head. God, he was not looking forward to the next day…

Gaz jumped as the front door opened and he saw Rudy and Soap were coming back in. They’d been apparently hanging out. They’d invited Gaz along, but he hadn’t wanted to go.

“I’ll tell you the rest, later.” Gaz told Price, who had his head leaned back against the couch, his hat over his face.

“Sure, kid.” Price answered and Gaz got up to go ask Rudy and Soap what they’d done that day.

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#grape crush cod fic #Kyle Gaz Garrick #Gaz Cod #Alex Keller #Alex COD #Gaz x Alex #Alex x Gaz #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare II #gazalex #the gazalex agenda #John Price #queue for dinner again hunny?

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sanktnikolais · 3 years

Text

What Keeps You Up At Night

A/N: one last writing before I disappear for quite a long time. Or idk maybe i’ll be back again soon, but it’s burnt out season these days. No more will to write and live HAHAKLDHFS so have this mess of neighbors au, and i might still write more of this in this au, maybe not just too soon. ;-;

Happy Halloween, ig.

Word count: 2151

AO3

The first time Zoya had finally talked properly with her noisy, infuriating neighbor without them arguing was in the middle of the night.

The endless readings for her upcoming case had taken a toll on her for the past few days, and the sleep she got was not enough to make her last the next day without verbally murdering someone in the firm. Tonight was no different, but she decided to go to bed earlier, as the noises from next door were starting to get louder again, and she was tired of going over and trying to knock his door down. They had been arguing off every little mistake they could pinpoint and use it against each other.

When Zoya had moved in the apartment complex more two weeks ago, only the ones from across and by the end of the hall came to greet her, while the one next to hers was silent the whole time, and the rest of the day.

A firefighter, the other floor tenants had said, so he was gone most of the day.

She would've appreciated it at some point, if only if he didn't make so much noise at nights whenever he was back. It was during the third night that she finally had enough rage to stomp over the adjacent door and knock, only to end up with the firefighter arguing back that she, too, was too noisy every morning.

Those arguments only got frequent for the two weeks, until they got a notice from the landlord to settle things down otherwise they’d get evicted. They had both ‘compromised’ with each other’s time schedule, but it really just involved them glaring at each other and arguing very quietly. Though their interactions had gone much calmer in the past few days, there was still no denying about the bad blood between them.

Now Zoya was just about to retreat back to her bedroom when there was a loud scratching on her front door. It wasn't the type that one would suddenly hear but was gone after a moment. Instead it was continuous and hurried, as if someone or something was trying to get in.

She raised an eyebrow, eyeing the time on her phone. 1:03. What the hell could it be at this time of the night?

The scratching continued as Zoya slowly approached the front door, her heart starting to hammer in her chest. She wasn't the type to believe in the supernatural, but who's to say it was impossible?

She stopped in front of the door, and then the scratching stopped. Coldness seemed to wash over her, the suddenness of the feeling making her shiver. Whatever it was may have left already, most likely a stray rat or something. But the sound was too loud for something as small as a rat. What if it was—

Zoya stopped her thoughts with a dark chuckle, feeling silly for even thinking about the impossible, though there was still no denying the slight fear in her chest. With a shake of her head, she took a deep breath and peeked through the peephole on her door.

There wasn't anyone outside.

She scoffed. Maybe the lack of sleep for the past week had made her imagination and hearing tacky.

"Being scared of mere sounds now, huh, Nazyalensky?" she mumbled to herself, stepping away from the door.

Only to stop when another sound came from the other side. A soft cry.

By this time, her fear was replaced by annoyance, and Zoya just turned the lights on, grabbed at the knob, and opened the door.

As expected, there wasn't any soul outside. Even the hall was dim and quiet—except for the occasional ones coming from the infuriating firefighter's slightly open door—when she turned to look in both directions, the small light by the end made it possible to see. Otherwise, the floor was empty.

She eyed the next door with a frown, shaking her head. Was he so confident to leave it open during this time of the night?

Then a thought came to her head. If she ever caught Lantsov trying to play a prank on her in the middle of the night, she would definitely not hesitate to strangle him on the spot. She shook her head, feeling annoyed with both herself and whatever it was that made the scratching sound. It surely wasted her time to check when she was supposed to be dozing off already.

She stepped back, ready to close the door, when she felt something brush past her ankle.

It was enough for a yelp to erupt from her mouth and jump, almost crashing over to her door.

Zoya quickly recovered and whirled around, expecting to see something scary, probably a ghost that had finally decided to become visible to her or anything supernatural that she's read and watched far too many times.

What she didn't expect was an adorable fluff of golden fur poised down on the floor as if it were trying to get her to play.

She gaped at the dog, turning back to the hall and expecting its owner to come over to get him. But no one came.

A soft whine made her turn back to the dog. It was now sitting up, head inclined to the side with a curious look on its face. If this was some other time, Zoya knew she would've melted on the sight. But now there was only confusion and bewilderment in her mind.

The dog couldn't be any older than several months. It was still a bit small to be an adult Retriever, but definitely not a puppy anymore.

She crouched down in level with it, and the dog immediately got up to run towards her. It only took a blink before it was jumping to her with an excited bark, and Zoya caught the dog mid-air.

The Retriever started attacking her with kisses, and the annoyance she was feeling just now disappeared completely. She laughed lightly when the dog's tail started to wag too vigorously as she stood up.

"Where did you come from?" Zoya asked, giving its head a ruffle. There was small ringings coming from the bell on its collar, and she turned the tag over. Sturmhond. "Storm dog, huh?" She leaned back to look at the golden fluff. It reached over to lick at her nose, causing a chuckle from her. "Who in the world would name you like that?"

There was a squeak of a door being opened. "Sturmhond?" a deep voice echoed in the hallway, followed by rushed footsteps. "Sturm—"

Zoya turned around to Lantsov stop by her door, already in his black shirt that had a printed Ravka Fire Protection on the upper left.

The firefighter’s stare at her lingered for a second too long before he was blinking and averting his eyes from her and to the bundle of golden fur in her arms. "Sturmhond!" His hazel eyes that had a deep look of worry before suddenly lit up when they landed on the dog.

The dog—Sturmhond—immediately squirmed off her arms and leaped over to him.

He caught him with a laugh. "Saints, there you are," he said in obvious relief. He gave the dog a ruffle on the head as Sturmhond bombarded his cheek with kisses. After a moment, he turned to her with a small wince. "I'm sorry about that, I only got him several days ago from the alley at the back and he's still trying to adjust—" He seemed to realize his own blabbing and he shook himself. “Yeah, I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

Zoya raised an eyebrow. Did he just apologize to her? “I think this is the first time I heard you apologize, Lantsov," she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorway. “You ought to close your door if you don’t want him escaping your place.”

The firefighter frowned. “It was closed, alright?”

Zoya raised a brow at him. “Oh, really, now?” she said. “How come he got to my door?”

“I don’t know,” he said, a tad bit too sharply, and he seemed to realize his tone. “Maybe I did leave the door open. My shifts have been longer these days, I really would tend to forget a lot."

She fought a smile on her lips as she took in this whole new character of her neighbor. He was so far from the one that she had been arguing for the past two weeks. “Is this character development? You are awfully different today.”

Lantsov only rolled his eyes as he adjusted the dog in his arms. “Nice to finally meet you,” he said sarcastically. Then he shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Taking care of this one probably did the trick.”

Zoya made a surprised huff. It was the first time they had talked without wanting to verbally murder one another, and it was a new thing to see. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

“Anyway, my shift starts in about ten minutes and it won’t end until lunch I think,” he said with an amused smile, “at least I don’t have to endure your loudness at eight in the morning.”

She erased her previous thought. Still the infuriating and idiotic neighbor. “For once, I thought you actually had some character development, Lantsov.”

Nikolai laughed, and Zoya felt the strange ease in the air that was never there before. “Only for you, dear,” he said. “Well, then. I have to go—”

He was cut off when Sturmhond suddenly jumped off from his arms and padded his way inside Zoya’s apartment, hiding behind her legs. She furrowed her eyebrows and looked down at the dog behind her. It seemed to have shrunk smaller as Sturmhond continued to hide.

“Sturmhond. Come on, buddy, I have to go,” he said gently, bracing his hands on his knees to crouch lower. He tried to call the dog once more, but Sturmhond didn’t budge. He sighed and stood up, checking his watch. “He’s still having issues with leaving. He thinks he’s going to get abandoned again.” Then he winced, closing his eyes as if he were in pain. “Can I, uh, ask for a favor?”

She narrowed her eyes, a laugh bubbling out from her lips. The night was definitely going on a weird turn. “Nikolai Lantsov is asking a favor from me?”

His wince only worsened. “I know, but it’s all because I forgot to call my friend that’s supposed to take Sturmhond tonight,” he said, rubbing at his face. He looked up after a moment, a defeated look on his face. “Can you watch over him?”

Zoya raised an eyebrow, and before she could reply, he quickly added, “I will pay for the dog sitting, don’t worry.” He looked past her and down to the dog hiding behind her. He had a worried crease between his brows, and for once, his usual smug expression was gone and replaced by a genuine emotion she never saw him have before. “He really looks like he doesn’t want to leave tonight.”

Her frown got deeper as she contemplated the firefighter’s request. He hadn’t been the most likeable person on their floor, at least for her, and she had every right to say no. But what she couldn’t understand was her lack of resistance over the favor and the sudden urge to help him.

She sighed. “Fine, I can watch over him,” she said even before she could think of changing her mind. Then with much more surety, she added, “I’m on a day off tomorrow, anyway.”

His eyes lit up like a child being allowed to play outside. “Really?”

“He seems behaved enough. And I’m sure he’s much quieter than you.”

To her surprise, Nikolai laughed, and her stomach did a weird flip at that. “He definitely is quieter than me. And he sleeps a lot too, would pass out anywhere he lays down.”

“My rate is not cheap, though.”

“I don’t mind.” He chuckled, the expression in his eyes was soft when he said, “Thank you.”

Zoya blinked, the direction of the night catching her completely off guard. It was only then that he looked much better with a smile on his face rather than the frown he always had every time they argue, and his eyes were definitely much warmer up close.

Lantsov was indeed quite a looker.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, covering them up with a glare on the blond. “Don’t thank me yet, I am planning to use this favor against you.”

Nikolai chuckled. “Of course, anything for you, Nazyalensky.”

Oh, she still hated him for having a sudden effect on her.

She’ll charge him off big time for dog sitting.

---

But when he came to pick the dog up much later in the afternoon, Zoya hadn’t charged him off with anything.

#zoyalai #king of scars #nikolai lantsov #zoya nazyalensky #wow i am able to write again #idk man #firefighter nik with a dog #and lawyer zoya ig #it's really burnt out this time #hope i recover soon lmao #my writing #happy halloween #;-;

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 years

Note

Hello! I was wondering if I could request child reader whose the ultimate plushie maker (lets say that hopes peak has a junior program) and she is just a little sister to the sdra2 boys, if that makes sense. Sorry this is my first time requesting something. Thank you, stay safe.

Awwww this is an adorable request oml--

........

Nikei

“Please tell me more!”

“Well um..wh-what else would you like to know?”

“Maybe..what inspired you to start making plushies?” Nikei smiled brightly, clutching his notepad as he looked at the list of questions he wanted to ask you regarding your talent.

“Hm...it’s just something I wanted to do,” you simply shrugged. “Since I never really..had any plushies of my own, I decided to make some for myself. That’s all.”

“I see, I see.” He scribbled down your response. “And what do you hope to achieve when you’re older?”

“Maybe open up a shop to sell them.” A smile gradually formed on your face. You never really had the chance to speak up about your talent, though thanks to your “big brother” of a journalist, you’ve found the courage to.

“Yes! You should.” He agreed, his enthusiasm radiating. “You’ll do great in business! And I’ll be the first to write about your shop! I’ll even leave ya a five-star review, how’s that sound?”

“I-I’d like that. Thank you, Nik.”

........

Yuri

"Oh my, what a wonderful creation!" Yuri beamed as he held the plush UFO up in the air, the stars in his eyes growing bigger. "I feel very lucky to have been gifted this from such a talented young lady."

"Th-Thanks.." You smiled, shyly putting away your tools.

"No, no..thank you, [y/n]." He patted your head before tucking the plush away into his backpack. "You have quite the talent! It'll bring smiles to other children when you get older.”

Honestly you didn’t think he'd like it this much, though clearly he was overjoyed enough to pick you up and hug you. “I’m grateful to call you my little сестра! If any rude boys mock your talent, come to me straight away.”

As confused as you were about why he hated men, you just returned the hug, nodding a little. “O-Okay..”

Little did you realize..how much he was truly devoted to keeping that promise.

But you had more confidence in your talent since then, so you couldn’t complain.

.......

Teruya

"H-Hey...Ruya? I made something for you."

"Awwh, really?" The former merchant turned around, his heart already swelling with joy. "I never had anyone make me something before! So what is--?"

But his breath became caught in his throat upon seeing the plushie you presented to him: A half-blue, half-pink clown doll with a red nose.

"I know you miss Satsuki, so...maybe this way she can always be with you." You mumbled, nervous as Teruya kept staring at your creation, his expression unreadable. "..big brother..?"

Then you saw him lower his head, the hat hiding his eyes as he wordlessly took the plushie. You were worried he hated it, but then...he hugged it to his chest, a small whimper escaping his lips before you realized...

He was crying.

“Th-Thank you so much..” Looking up, you could see the tears rolling down his face, as well as his smile. He didn’t mean to break down like this in front of you, though you hugged him before he could apologize.

Teruya knelt down so he could embrace you more comfortably, softly sobbing as he thanked you over and over. You just smiled, happy that he appreciated the gift.

...........

Mikado

Lately, you’ve noticed Mikado sulking around the house, and you soon learned why when he was “mourning” the loss of his favorite rubber duck. He accidentally burned it while practicing his usual tricks.

You weren’t sure why he was so depressed over it, but you didn’t want to see him sad. So you got to work recreating that duck--in plushie form, of course--and hoped to surprise him with it.

You were nervous about missing any important details, though the delight that showed on his mask after he opened your gift made all those worries go away.

“Oh this is wonderful, [y/n]! My beloved rubber duck lives on!” He hugged it to his chest, mask grinning like a child on Christmas Day. Then he sniffled softly as he gazed at it. “Th-This is..the sweetest thing...I-I’ve never received any gifts before..”

“You’re welcome, Mik....w-wait are you crying?”

“.........”

“Do you need a hug..?”

“.....y-yes.”

........

Yuki

“It’s getting late, [y/n]-”

“A-Ah!” You were startled when Yuki suddenly walked into your workshop, and you shielded your current project with your body, huffing at him. “P-Please knock first.”

He yelped, too, in equal surprise. “O-Oh right..I’m sorry for intruding..” Embarrassed, he rubbed the back of his neck. “But you should get some rest. You can finish it tomorrow.”

For a moment you considered telling him you’ll be working for another half hour, but of course you had to yawn right there and then.

“See? I promise nobody will mess with it. C’mon..for your big bro?" The lucky student gave you puppy-dog eyes, which made you pout as you remembered how often you used that tactic on him.

“Okaaay. You win this time, big brother.”

........

Hajime

“Woah! This is pretty impressive, kid.” Hajime chuckled as he held the medium-sized plushie of himself in his hands. “Looks exactly like me....only handsomer.” He mumbled that last part to himself.

“I-It’s just a small thank-you gift.”

“Huh? Thank you for what?” He blinked, looking down at you.

“For being my strong big brother and..m-making sure I stay healthy.” You smiled, embarrassed as you turned your attention back to your tools, hastily putting them away.

The boxer smiled sweetly, touched by your response. “Now you weren’t up all night making this, were you?”

“Nope..I promise I stuck to my sleep schedule.”

“Good.” He ruffed your hair, before looking back at the plushie and holding it up higher. “I’ll have to put this next to my trophies.”

......

Shinji

“Wh-What? You’re..giving this to me?” The firefighter was stunned when you presented a plushie of a firetruck to him.

But his toothy grin was bright as he took it from you and examined it, awestruck by the details in the wheels and windows.

“Mhmm, h-hope you like it, big bro..” Your face heated up as you saw his reaction. “I usually don’t make vehicles but..I-I wanted to make something special for you.”

“Awh, jeez..this is truly amazing, [y/n]!” Shinji ruffled your hair, picking you up. You smiled and clung to his bicep. “So this was the secret project you were hiding from me? You’ve put so much passion into it!”

“Yeah i-it’s nothing too special--”

“Hey now! Don’t doubt your skills for a MINUTE!”

You squeaked in surprise, startled by his loud voice next to your ear. He realized this, too, and blushed a deep red, setting you back down. “S-Sorry..I didn’t m-mean to scare ya..”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it--"

“N-No really..I..I-I-I should’ve known better than to raise my voice...”

Huh..how funny. Now the roles were reversed.

...........

Shobai

“Heh, wow..you seriously got this idea from me?” Shobai raised an eyebrow at the small cigarette-shaped plushie you made for him. He didn’t know whether to be impressed, concerned, or confused.

“W-Well...if..you don’t like it I can just--”

“Sheesh, who said I didn’t like this, kid?” Huffing, he tucked it into his back pocket, though you looked at him with a tiny smile.

“I hope it’s good-enough repayment...”

“..huh?”

“I just..feel like I owe you for taking me in and..b-being the big brother I never had. And I’m not earing any money yet, so..” You shrugged.

For a moment or two, he was quiet. He only remembered joking about you being in his debt--he didn’t think he came off as that serious.

But he just chuckled and patted your head. “Yeah, that’s fair-enough payment in stuffed toys. But only from you.”

222 notes · View notes

chickensarentcheap · 4 years

Text

Sanctuary -Chapter 51

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @thunderintheshadows, @valkyrie-of-the-light

“I do not need a goddamn wheelchair.” Esme grumbles, five hours later, as Kyle pushes her out of the front entrance of their local hospital. “I can walk on my own.”

“Well considering you fainted once at mom's, and twice while you were here, I think it's safe to say you shouldn't be walking anywhere on your own right now.”

“People faint,” she shrugs.

“Pregnant women shouldn't faint. And they especially shouldn't faint three times. You heard what the doctor said. You're severely dehydrated, your blood pressure is sky high, and when you fainted, you managed to hit your head, give yourself a concussion, and receive seven stitches for your trouble.”

She frowns at the last part; gingerly touching the bandage that covers the injury in question that runs down some of her forehead and into her right eyebrow.

“So now you have a prescription he wants you to get, and you've got this handy dandy portable IV...” he nods down at the small back like device resting in her lap, the needle of the IV having been inserted into the top of her left hand and secured with clear tape. “A nurse will come every day to check on it. To change the bag and see if the line is still good. Just be thankful that you get to go home. If I had my way, I would have had you admitted for a couple of days at least.”

“Well good thing firefighters have no pull when it comes to those things. Because I do not need to be in the hospital. All I need, is to be as far away from mom as possible. Can you believe the things she said? Who says shit like that? Who wishes death on their own son in law? Or basically suggests her married daughter gets an abortion because mommy dearest doesn't like said son in law?”

“Look, what mom said was completely out of line and I think she's a huge bitch for saying any of it. But stop thinking about it. Because what she said and how you reacted is how you ended up here in the first place. So let's not talk about mom at all, okay? I'll take you home and keep an eye on you. You'll be more comfortable there than at my place. In your own bed, surrounded by all your stuff.”

Nik had assured them that it would be perfectly safe to return to the house; she and the security team would be there around the clock, and they were more than capable of both spotting and diffusing threats.

“Not everything,” she sighs. “My kids aren't there. My husband isn't there.”

“Well, he will be, Because he's on his way back.”

“Wait...wait...” she clamps her hands down on the wheels of the chair, preventing them from turning. “...what do you mean he's on his way back? You called him? You actually called him? Why the hell would you do that?”

“I didn't call him. Nik did.”

“Why? She didn't need to do that. Why the hell...?”

“Oh I don't know why she would do that, Esme. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you're his wife and you're pregnant with his baby and you nearly just got admitted to the damn hospital!”

“I just fainted. When did it become such a serious issue for someone to faint? It's not life or death.”

“Okay, first of all, it's never normal for someone to just faint unless there's an underlying issue. Second, you're having a baby. So there isn't just a concern with your health, but with the baby's health too. You're not the type that gets sick easily and you don't normally have health problems. But, you have to admit, with the twins and Declan, there were problems. A lot of problems. Especially with the twins. So don't you think it's better to get you looked at and see if there's something else going on? With either of you?”

“It's just stress. The doctor asked if I've been under a lot of stress and I have. Huge stress. And then mom started with her shit and...”

“Listen, it's just better if things are taken seriously. They did some tests and some blood work and if anything is wrong, they'll let you know. Better to be safe than sorry, right?”

She nods.

“If nothing is wrong, then great. If something is wrong, then at least they found it and at least they can do something about it. Why do you have to be like this? So damn stubborn? Of all the things you had to inherit from dad, it had to be one of the worst possible things.”

“Well you inherited his looks so the joke's on you,” she teases.

“Are you trying to say I'm ugly?” he grins.

“I'm trying to say when you were born, mom said 'what a treasure' and dad said 'yeah, let's bury it'.”

Kyle chuckles. “I should dump you out of this wheelchair for saying that.”

“You'd never. You love me too much. Since we were kids and you used to beat up the bullies that used to teased me because I liked to climb trees and play with Transformers and GI Joe's instead of dolls.”

“I tell you, you could throw a left hook better than any of the guys I knew. They were just jealous. Because you were cooler than they were and I liked to hang out with you more than them. I'll stay with you okay? Keep an eye on you. Make sure you're eating and drinking and taking it easy. I already called my boss and he said to take a couple days and call him if I need more time. I'll hang around until Tyler gets here.”

“I still can't believe Nik called him,” Esme huffs. “This is the last thing he needs on his plate. He's already got enough stress with having to go New Zealand and find those kids. He doesn't need to be worrying about me too. You should have just left it alone and not told him.”

“Kid, he's your husband. There was never an option of not telling him. I think he cares more about you and this baby than he does about some fucking job. I get its kids that are involved. I get how bad that sucks and how horrible it is. I really do. But someone else can finish the job. He's not the only mercenary out there.”

“He feels he needs to finish it. That he started it and it's up to him to get them.”

“Well he's obviously changed his mind because he's on his way home.”

“For good?”

“I don't know. I didn't talk to him. Like I said, Nik called him. And apparently he flipped his shit and told her to get him on the first flight home and that's what she did. So despite what mom thinks about him, he obviously cares more about you and the baby than he does about the job. If he didn't, he wouldn't have insisted that he was coming home even after Nik assured him that things weren't that serious.”

“And you call me stubborn? Tyler is way worse than I am.”

“He's not stubborn. He loves you. There's never been a doubt of that, that's for sure. I mean, if he can put up with your shit for this long, he must love you.”

“Or he's just a glutton for punishment.”

“Hey, you said it, not me,” he pushes the wheelchair as close as he can to the front passenger side door of his truck, and then sits the brakes and squeezes between his vehicle and the one parked beside to open the door. “Hey!” he scolds, when she attempts to stand. “I don't think so, kid. Sit your ass down. You don't do anything unless I tell you to, understand?”

“As much as I'm sure Nik will find your assertiveness insanely hot, you're my brother and you don't get to boss me around.”

“The hell I don't. Sit.”

“Fine,” she huffs, and plops back down. “You know, you are more like dad than I realized. He was bossy too,”

“Are you like this at home?” Kyle inquires, as he pops open the door and then helps her out of the chair, hands under her arms for support. “Do you get like this when Tyler tries to help? You get all obstinate and bitchy with him too?”

“Yep. And then he gets mad and we fight and then we have angry sex and things go back to normal.”

“You know what, some things I do not need to know. And that's one of them. Can you get up in there or do you need me to put you over my shoulder and drop you in to your seat?”

“I'm not an invalid, thank you very much. I only fainted.”

“Three times. And stop lying to yourself that there's just that wrong, okay? There's something going on with either you or the baby and it needs to get sorted out. Just let people take care of you, okay? You've spent five and half years either taking care of Tyler or taking care of kids. It's your turn now.”

“Oh just what I want. Sitting on my ass while someone caters to every whim and need...wait a second...” she frowns and cocks her head to the side. “...that actually sounds kind of nice.”

“You deserve someone to wait on you hand and foot, kid. Like the princess you are.”

“Princess? I'm the motherfucking queen, K.”

He just shakes his head and shuts her door.

****

While it's good to be home, it feels strange at the same time. It's empty. Lonely. Way too quiet. Nothing more than furniture and other belongings in empty rooms. No kids running around; no shrieking, no squealing, no giggling, no near constant demands for snacks and juice. No dog barking or following her from room to room, desperate for the attention he isn't receiving (yet definitely is) from the others. No husband out working in the back yard or the garage. While all of their things are there...in the exact places they'd been left...the house and its surroundings seem foreign. As if it belongs to someone else.

“Nik said the guys checked the place,” Kyle says, as he steps out onto the back deck, carrying a bottle of beer for himself, a steaming mug of tea -decaf, as the ER doctor had suggested-, where she sits in one of the oversized Adriondack chairs, a flannel blanket pulled up to her chin, legs stretched out and feet on the wooden railing in front of her. “No sign of any trouble. Maybe those Irish guys already came to town and scared the bad guys away.”

“Or at least chased them somewhere else,” she says, and gives her brother an appreciative smile as he places her drink in the chair's cup holder.

“It's getting pretty late. You should be getting some rest.”

“It's nine thirty.”

“At night.”

“It's nine thirty,” she stresses. “I haven't gone to bed this early since before I had Millie. Before I got too huge and too uncomfortable and I couldn't sleep properly anyway. You're getting a little too naggy.”

“I'm not naggy,” he argues, as he takes a seat in the chair beside her. “I'm worried about my kid sister. And my niece or nephew. Maybe both. Maybe there's two in there again.”

“Oh God, bite your tongue. Do not wish that on me for a second time. I love my boys to the end of the earth and beyond, that was the most brutal seven and a half months of my entire life. I do not want to go through that again. I'd rather have another nine plus pounder than two at the same time. Besides...” she reaches under her blanket and pulls out the ultrasound photo she's been keeping safe in her possession. “...looks like there's one baby Rake.”

Kyle takes the picture from her, squinting his eyes in an attempt to make out any distinguishing features. “What the hell am I looking at?”

She leans sideways in her seat and begins pointing out various things that the tech had circled. Heart, spine, kidneys, both eyes, nose, and mouth. The radiologist on call had said that everything looked 'perfectly fine' and 'extremely healthy'. All parts existent and working properly, from what he could tell. “I'm a lot further than I thought,” she says to her brother. “I thought maybe two months. Three at the most.”

“And?” he asks.

“Three months, three weeks and two days.”

“Do you know the exact hours and minutes too?”

She rolls her eyes. “I don't know that's the exact time. That's what the tech said based on all the measurements and everything. That's almost four months, K. I don't understand how it can be that far ahead. Nearly four months and I never showed any signs whatsoever? I mean, I missed a period and a half of one but that's nothing. Things have always been screwed up in that respect. That's never been normal.”

“Okay, you're my sister and I do not need to know certain things. Your...cycle...or whatever...is not something I need to know. So it's a bad thing you're this far ahead, or...?”

“It's not that it's bad. It's just weird. Look, when you get married and your wife starts having babies, she will know everything that goes on in her body. And I mean everything. I thought I did know everything that my body is telling me. I mean, I've only been through this three other times, right? Oh no. This time is totally different. I thought I was just run down and stressed and worried and all that crap that comes with Tyler doing what he does. And you know what? He was the one the one who thought I was pregnant. Way before I did. You know what that means?”

Kyle frowns. “What?”

“It means he was right. And when I tell him just how far along I am and that he was right, he will hold that over my head for years. Decades. Because that's what Tyler does. Because Tyler isn't used to being right and when I have to admit he is, he makes my life hell. Well maybe not hell. But he makes it very annoying. And I am not in the mood for that kind of shit. I'm cranky and I'm hormonal and it pains me inside to know I have to admit he was right.”

Her brother laughs. “You two are perfect for each other, I swear. He practically says the same stuff about you.”

“Excuse me? He does what? Have you been talking about me?” she gives an excited gasp and sits up, then asks “ Do you have a bromance going on?”

“We talk,” Kyle admits.

“When?”

“When you don't realize it's happening. What? You need to know everything?”

“I think it's a big deal when my husband...the black sheep of this family, through no doing of his own...is having a bromance with my favourite brother. It makes my heart happy. What's wrong with that? And what do you guys talk about?”

He shrugs. “Guy stuff.”

She stares at him pointedly.

“What? Guy stuff. You know, going to the gym, cars, trucks, work shit, girl shit.”

“Girl shit? He's talking about girls with my brother?”

“He doesn't talk about girls. I talk about girls. He talks about you.”

“Oh really...” her eyes narrow. “...and what does he say? Don't hold back. You can tell me. Don't protect him.”

“Nothing bad, I swear. He has never once said anything bad about you. The total opposite, actually. Trust me when I say that after five and a half years, that guy is still wildly and crazily in love with you.”

She smiles and sips her tea. “He's lucky.”

“It's just random guy shit we talk about. I mean, every so often we'll talk about how big of a bitch mom is and how ridiculous the shit she says is. Sometimes we talk about sports. He really hates hockey by the way but I won't hold that against him. And every so often he'll talk about shit that's bothering him.”

“Really?” she's genuinely surprised. “He talks to you about that stuff?”

Kyle nods and sips his beer.

“What has he told you?”

“Esme, it's kind of personal, don't you think? If he's telling me and not you...”

“I'm not asking to be nosy and I don't expect you to betray his confidence. I'm asking because I'm worried about him. He's been having some really hard times, K. Mentally. And not just the depression and the anxiety. But with the PTSD and the brain fog and the memory issues. Have you noticed any of those things?”

“I've noticed a couple things, I guess. Nothing major. I just figured that whatever he'd been through had done a real number on him, you know? I mean, now that I know exactly what he went through, it's no wonder the guy has issues. That would fuck anyone up.”

“Has he told you about any issues? Anything specific?”

“Esme....”

“He's my husband. Kyle. And I'm worried about him. I don't know what to do for him. I don't know if he needs more therapy or if he needs different medication or if he needs both. I just want to help him.”

“I know. But right now, you're the one that needs help. I know you're used to being the mother hen and the one that babies everyone, but you've got your own shit going on, kid. You do not need to be stressing out over this. If you want me to, I can talk to him. See if he'll tell me anything else other than what he already has. But you can't be worried about this. Especially now. Not with your own stuff going on.”

“I fainted, K. That's it. I fainted.”

“There's way more than that going on and you know it. You need to take it easy and let people take care of you for a change. Stop trying to solve everyone's problems and just worry about yourself. That's why you're having issues in the first place. Because you stress yourself trying to fix everybody. Just...stop...” he reaches out and gently squeezes the back of her neck. “...stop trying to save everyone.”

“That is not what I'm trying to do. I'm worried about him, Kyle. Legitimately worried. He isn't himself and he...”

“You just said he was stressed and had a lot on his plate.”

“It goes way beyond that.”

“Is he drinking again? Back on the Oxy?”

“He was drinking but he says he's sober and staying sober. And no. He's not on Oxy again. He doesn't even like taking Tylenol. Which is a problem all in itself because he's in all this pain and he doesn't want to take anything for it.”

“And I said I would talk to him and see if he'll tell me anything else. Look, he's not coming home so you can take care of him. He's coming home to take care of you. Would you let him do that? You always have this need to take care of him, maybe he feels like he needs to do the same thing for you. So give him that, okay?”

“You promise you'll talk to him?”

“If you're that worried about him...”

“I am. And this isn't my usual worrying about stupid shit. This is serious. There is something going on up in his brain and I don't know how to help him. And I know he hates telling me things because he hates me worrying. So maybe he'll tell you instead.”

“I will talk to him,” Kyle promises her. “You've had a long day. Lots of time on a plane, the excitement at mom's, all the poking and prodding at the hospital. You need sleep. That baby's counting on you, kid. You're the only one that can keep him or her safe and sound in there. So go. Go inside and lie down and sleep. I'll be on the couch if you need me.” okay?”

“Where's Nik going to be?” she teases, as she pushes the blanket off of her and stands up, immediately feeling light headed and having to place a hand on her brother's shoulder to steady herself.

“I knew you should have been admitted,” he huffs.

“I'm fine. I just got up too quickly. Relax, dad. Jesus.”

“Don't get lippy with me. Because I will fireman carry you upstairs.”

“Is that how you're going to get Nik into bed? Seduce her with your fireman abilities?” she tousles his hair, presses a kiss to his cheek.

“How do you know she's not going to seduce me?” he counters.

“If you're going to have sex, I just ask that it's not in any of my children's beds. And stay out of Ovi's apartment. Go and do it somewhere else if you have to. I don't want to be hearing the two of you bumping uglies, okay?”

“It's only fair. I've had to hear you and Tyler before.”

“That's because Tyler was trying to teach you how to do things properly,” she teases.

“You're a smart ass, you know that.”

“I do,” she says, and then disappears into the house.

***

The traffic is terrible; hampered by a steady rain and strong winds. And he sits in the passenger seat as Yaz drives, elbow on the door, hand rubbing his chin and mouth repeatedly, both legs shaking nervously. The call from home has him on edge; brain running through all worst possible case scenarios, nerves completely shot, desperately yearning for something to take the edge of. To at least calm him enough to stop fearing the worst. The assurances from Nik that there wasn't something seriously wrong hadn't worked; she'd insisted that he didn't need to return home and that things were 'under control' and he needed to just stay where he was and concentrate on the job at hand. He'd snapped on her. Telling her to shove the job up her ass and get him a way home. Sooner. Not later. That she'd set this bullshit in motion the moment she decided that ratting him out was a good idea. Had she not done that, Esme would still be in Ireland. Not half way around the goddamn world, dealing with issues with the baby all by herself.

“You need to calm down,” Yaz says.

“You need to fuck off,” Tyler retorts.

Yaz sighs. “You won't miss the flight. The guy's waiting for you. So...”

“I fucking hate traffic.”

“Okay, I get that. But like I said, they're waiting for you...”

“I don't give a shit. I need to get home. But instead I'm stuck in this fucking bullshit,” he angrily gestures out the windshield.

“”You heard what Nik said. Everything is fine. They didn't even admit her. If there was something wrong, she would have been admitted. “

Tyler sighs, and closes his eyes; trying his best to block out his friend's voice. The last thing he fucking needs is someone trying to tell him just where his concerns should lie and where his priorities should be. There'd been no hesitation when Nik had called; he'd already been throwing clothes and other personal belongings into one of the suitcases before she even got to the part where things 'weren't that bad'. It didn't matter how goddamn bad things were; he was going home and no one was going to stop him.

“It isn't that bad,” Yaz says. “Can you stop shaking like that? It's annoying me.”

“Just fucking drive,” he responds, and shakes his legs even harder, just to be spiteful.

“Would you just calm down? What are you so freaked out about?”

“If you tell me to calm down one more time...”

“Being this worked up isn't solving anything. I'm getting you to the airport, they're not going to take off without you, Nik said that things are that bad and....”

“I don't give a fuck what Nik said. I need to get home. To my wife. I don't care if things are 'that bad' or not. She shouldn't be going through this alone.”

“Isn't her brother with her?”

“What the hell does that matter? I should be with her. And I would be if I never took this goddamn job. If that fucking asshole never showed up in Colorado.”

“Well technically, he's been after you since Guatemala, so...”

“Yaz, we don't need to get fucking technical. If we really want to get into it, none of this would be happening if your sister didnt' fuck up and hire Jason Andrews' brother. Which is who hired McMann to take me out. And if I really want to be a petty asshole, I'd say we also wouldn't be in this situation if your sister hadn't have ratted me out to my wife in the first place.”

“I get you're pissed about that, but...”

“I am more than pissed. I am so far past pissed. She should have just kept her fucking mouth shut. There was no reason she had to go to Esme. What good did it do?”

“Other than get you to knock your shit off and start getting your head on straight? She did the right thing, and if you'd calm down long enough, you'd realize that.”

“Stop fucking telling me to calm down!” he snaps. “I will knock you the fuck out, Yaz, I don't care if you're driving. I am on my last shred of sanity and my last nerve is hanging on by a thread. This all could have been avoided if your sister kept her mouth shut. If she'd minded her own business, Esme would still be here. With me. And that way if things went wrong with the baby, I'd be with her. Not thousands of miles away.”

“If you hadn't have decided to take matters into your own hands and drug and kidnap someone, it wouldn't be happening either.”

“Do I need to fucking remind you that you were on my side? That you agreed McMann deserved to suffer? That you agreed to help me? And then as soon as your sister showed up, you fucking bailed on me and threw me under the bus. That was a bitch move, Yaz. You fucking coward.”

“It was getting out of control. You were getting out of control. We've been friends a long time, Tyler. Even longer than you and Nik. I'm the one that got you into the job in the first place. And believe me, every day I want to kick myself in the ass for that. Because if I'd never done that, this wouldn't all be happening. And Dhaka never would have happened.”

“A lot of good things came out of Dhaka,” Tyler says, and can't even believe the words came out of his own mouth.

For years he's been dwelling on all of the bad things that happened in Bangladesh; Mahajan Senior screwing them over, G being killed, Gaspar betraying him, everything that took place on the Sultana Kamal Bridge, the fact that Esme had to see and hear the things she did. Even those long months in the hospital and the lingering, life altering after effects. Maybe it's the meds in his system; allowing him to think clearly and rationally instead of turning him into a zombie.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“My wife, for one. My kids. My chance at a normal life. Which I keep fucking up in the most epic ways possible.”

“It's hard. You've been doing the job for a long time. It's hard to just let it go,” Yaz reasons. “Even though you've got half a dozen reasons to walk away, you just can't. Somewhere along the long, the job stopped being something you do and you became the job.”

Tyler snorts. “Ain't that some shit.”

“You never meant for it to happen. It's not like you intentionally became that way. And it's not like you wanted to put it before your wife and your kids. You didn't even realize it was happening. It just did. No one is going to fault you for that, Tyler.”

“They don't need to. I already hate myself enough for it.”

“Esme doesn't. She's still around.”

“Until she's not one day. And I don't want that happening. I can't let that happen. You ask why I'm going home when things aren't that bad? Because that's where I fucking belong. It's where I've always belonged and I never let it happen. Home was never enough until I realized how close I was to losing it. So maybe you're not a coward, Yaz. But I am. I was a coward when I left when Austin was dying and I've been a coward for the last five and a half years.”

His head hurts. Even worse than his knee and his shoulder, for once. And he reaches into one of the pockets of his flack jacket and pulls out a bottle of prescription meds; twisting off the cap and dumping three small pills into his palm.

“Thought you took your meds today,” Yaz comments.

“You keeping tabs on me now?”

“Thought you were only supposed to take one Valium a day? What the fuck...?”

“It's ativan, dumb ass. For anxiety. I'm a little fucking anxious right now.”

“A little?”

“Don't make me hurt you, Yaz.”

He places the pills under his tongue, waiting for them to fully dissolve before reaching for a bottle of water sitting in one of the cup holders.

“Are you coming back?” Yaz asks.

“I don't know.”

“When will you know?”

“When I get home and see how bad things are. Can I get home first? Can I get to see my wife and talk to her before you start asking me these things? Fuck the job. She has to come first.”

“I get that. I do. But we're supposed to leave for New Zealand in two days.”

“So leave for New Zealand in two days. Mark and his boys will be with you. What? You need me there to hold your hand? You need me to spoon feed you and wipe your ass after you take a shit?”

Yaz smirks. “You can be a real dick.”

“If...and that's a big if right now...I come back, I'll meet up with you guys there. You don't need me there to gather up intel and find where the kids are. You just need me to get them out.”

“Exactly. We need you. You. Not some random fucking Marine that's never done shit like this before. And definitely not Mark. If anyone would fuck things right up, it's that guy. You're the one with the experience. We need you.”

“Nik can find someone else.”

“There is no one else. And you've been on this since day one. You know the history. I don't want some newbie just walking in and screwing things up. You're the only one that can do this. Properly. Don't fucking bail on me, Tyler.”

“It's what I do, Yaz. I bail on people. You don't realize that by now?”

“You didn't bail on Ovi,” he points out. “Even when you were told to.”

Tyler sighs.

“So? Are you?” Yaz presses. “Coming back?”

“I don't know,” he admits. “I honestly don't know.”

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fic #tyler rake fan fiction #extraction #sanctuary #chris hemsworth character

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