Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Man, I already told you she can't be in here."

"C'mon, man. She's got a fake — it's a good one! We went to another bar down town and they let her in, it's-"

"How many times do I have to say no, Craig? She's a kid. She's gonna get me shut down."

Deran eyed his brother from behind the bar, cocking his head towards Nicky when Craig mentioned the ID, an incredulous look in his eye as if to say 'really? they really buy that shit over there?' The girl looked 16, no matter how close to 18 she actually was. And Deran just didn't care about her enough (or at all) to risk his freshly-opened bar just to allow Craig's underage girlfriend to get high in the bathroom.

The place was still empty, closed for stocking and replenishment purposes. Craig was here with Nicky for god knows what reason, but Deran wanted to save himself the trouble of throwing them out later during the day.

He still wasn't sure why Craig kept her around, why Smurf let her stay in the house and in on private information that would probably get them arrested if the wrong person got her alone.

"Dude, she's just-"

"No. That's final." he huffed. "Now get out of here. We open in an hour and I'm still waiting on my new bartender to head in."

That sparked Craig's attention, though Nicky had already muttered some complaints under her breath as she stomped towards the door, now standing by it as she waited for Craig to follow along — which he was likely to do, always at her beck and call even when she was half Craig's age.

"New bartender? You opened this place like last week. You're already hiring a new one? What happened to, uh, Leah? No, Carla, right?"

"Jenna quit cause the hours weren't working for her. I got a new one coming in today. It's a friend I met at another bar downtown. The one I told you about. You'll like her—" he halted, stopping Craig before he could interject. "— which is why I need you gone so you don't scare her off on her first day."

Craig complained, argued back, even got Nicky involved, but ultimately listened to his brother and walked away, following Nicky out the door and huffing to himself at how high-strung Deran had been since the bar's opening a month ago. He'd show up later today, probably. He usually did.

Deran kept cleaning up around the place, a little understaffed at the moment and taking on more responsibility than usual. He hoped that you'd be the saving grace that would take on some of the brunt of the job for him.

It'd been a while since he'd met you. Had found you at a bar across town about a year ago when the idea of buying a bar had first taken root in his brain. Before he could even consider the idea a possibility while he lived under Smurf's watchful eye. But now he was away, now the guys were all on his side — to some extent, at least. Now he wasn't the only outlier and could get shit done on his own. They were pulling their own jobs, taking on a church sometime next month.

Your meeting had been by chance. He wasn't really one to meet girls in bars (for more reasons than the obvious), but it wasn't really him that put himself in your orbit. It had been more of a chance encounter.

Some guy had been bugging at you, poking the bear repeatedly while everyone else at the bar's counter continued to mind their own business, well aware of the fact that you were being harassed by some asshole but not doing anything about it — not that Deran was all that interested in helping you out either.

You managed to flip the situation on him, though, snapped after ten consecutive minutes of some asshole bothering you. It'd been as unexpected to Deran as it'd been to Adrian, who'd been sitting next to him. Within seconds you had him with his arm twisted behind his back, yelping in pain and pinned against the counter while others watched the glasses shatter on the floor.

Without thinking much of it, Deran offered to pay for whatever damages you'd caused, him and Adrian talking down the bartender from kicking you out along with the idiot you'd humiliated in front of everyone. The three of you spent the rest of the night together getting drunk on some lone corner of the bar, with Deran carelessly letting you in for reasons he couldn't really explain. He liked you, and so did Adrian, so it was easy to let his guard down that day.

Having been with Adrian that day, it became obvious to you what was going on between them. That made you about the third person to know about Deran's best-kept secret, leading to a rare closeness between you and one of the younger Cody boys.

And he made sure to keep you away from Smurf's shit, much like he did with Adrian. Despite your general awareness of the family's shady workings, you remained just as clueless to the details as any other citizen of Oceanside, being kept as yet another one of Deran's secrets.

But that was until today, the first day of your new position as his nighttime bartender.

When he'd found himself in need of someone ASAP, you were the first person he thought of, and the only person he knew would have his back no matter how last minute his need came to be. And he was mostly okay with it, even if he'd now have to put up with Baz eyeing you while he pretended not to do so, with Craig checking you out shamelessly, with J looking to you with suspicion, and with Pope doing whatever the fuck Pope did when a pretty girl hung around Deran.

Just when he began to think about his brothers again, the bell hanging above the entrance jingled, causing him to look up and find you standing there.

"Shit, this place's sick." you walked slowly as you took in the place, letting your bag fall on one of the stools as you approached Deran. "How come you've never let me come?"

"I told you – my brothers. Which, by the way, just steer clear of Craig and you should be fine. Baz might look at you weird, maybe the kid too. Pope might seem a little scary, but he's a good boy unless provoked."

You nodded. "They gonna be here tonight?"

"They're here most nights. We got a job soon, so they'll be here pretty often for a while." he gestured at you to follow him behind the bar. "I'll introduce you this time. Might as well."

"They know who I am, though, right?"

Deran nodded yes. "Yeah. This is just for formalities. You should probably steer away still."

"Yeah, whatever. Not really seeing myself interested in any other Cody brothers. Now, onto business."

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Introductions had been fine.

Deran had been right about Craig, who practically propositioned himself to you within seconds of meeting you.

"Why is your brother looking at me like he wants to take me right against the bar?" you'd asked once you were at a distance.

"You're a hot bartender, everyone's gonna be looking at you like that as soon as they walk through the door. But, uh, yeah, you should probably keep away from him."

J had nodded in acknowledgement to your presence, and Baz had wondered why Deran hadn't introduced you earlier since you'd been close friends for so long. None of them had really cared much for your existence other than to show some apprehension at finally putting a face to the name they'd occasionally hear about for the past year.

Pope hadn't reacted much, only giving you that blank and brooding stare Deran had warned you about before. And as cliche at it sounded, it was that same unwavering stare that caught your attention. He was unlike the rest of the guys, not offering you any sort of judgment (even though his furrowed brows would've told anyone else otherwise). He looked pained more than anything, like the sole black sheep of the group, not really reacting much as his brothers spoke to one another, only ever delivering almost monosyllabic responses when spoken to, nursing a single drink the entirety of the night.

Even when you walked back to your stationary position at the bar, you still occasionally eyed him, finding him looking back at you every so often. You never smiled when he looked, never even nodded or acknowledged him, only ever looking back.

By the end of the night, they were all gone, all heading their own ways while you stayed behind to clean up (part of your job, but a bad one when it came to cleaning up a bar). Even Deran skipped out on you, giving you some half-assed excuse as he ran out with Adrian. It was the usual lie he gave the guys to run off with him, still scared of the rest of them knowing about his secret and opting to leave you to clean up the mess on your own.

But you weren't on your own. Or at least you realized that after a few minutes of cleaning up when you heard a silent grunt from the other side of the room.

Peering over, you found Pope cleaning up some tables, overly focused as he scraped at some deeply infused stains taking up space on the surface of the table.

You walked over without thinking too much of it, taking a clean wipe and a stain remover on each respective hand before placing them on the table in exchange for the dry napkin he'd been using — likely the only thing he found at hand.

"You don't have to do this, y'know? Deran, that asshole, he's the one who should be helping me. But he pays me, so it's fine. You can go back out there with your-"

"I'm good."

With no further words, he grabbed the supplies you'd set on the table, beginning to use them after throwing out his napkin.

He stayed silent for a while as he kept cleaning, his back mostly to you and his mind fully on the task. You decided to stay nearby, cleaning basically side by side as he continued to clean.

"This is- this is a good one. This is what I use back home." he broke the silence, unexpectedly enough.

You nodded to yourself. "Yeah. I got these for Deran last month. Idiot's a mess. Doesn't know how to clean."

Surprisingly, that earned you a chuckle (maybe a sarcastic scoff, you weren't sure). You knew him to not be very expressive, so even as your first time meeting, the slight curve of his lip shocked you. Still, your expression remained stagnant.

"Sounds like Deran."

Another few beats of silence, only interrupted by the brief and occasional clatter of cups as you removed them in order to wipe tables. The two of you remained in each other's orbits, close enough to speak lightly and deliver the sound to the other's ear without much effort.

"I'm surprised at least one of the Cody boys knows how to clean." you broke the silence again.

"Yeah? I'm the only one who does."

There was a lightness to his voice. Much unlike how Deran had described him since you'd known him — and he spoke about his brothers more than he'd be willing to admit.

"You clean up after all four? Jesus. Maybe you should be getting the bigger cut of those jobs you guys do."

You hadn't meant anything by it. Not really. The Cody's going on shady jobs was no secret to anyone. It was more of an unspoken thing. One of those things in which you couldn't be caught unless it was red handed, and the Cody's always made sure they came back with their hands clean.

Still, it made Pope halt. And you realized immediately that you'd probably spoken out of turn. Your cool remained, allowing you to not react, but you could still see a stilled Pope on your peripheral view.

"What's Deran told you?"

Slowly but surely, Pope continued his movements, likely wanting to assess how much you knew instead of jumping to conclusions. Still, you knew he'd probably kick his brother's ass about this later. Hell, you'd apologize to Deran if he survived it.

"Uh, he mentions stuff from time to time. I just moved in upstairs with him, so it's kinda hard to ignore all the phone calls and money coming around. He never goes into the specifics, though." you replied. "Sorry, I won't bring it up again. Not really interested in that stuff, anyway."

You looked at him as you said it, figuring that someone as big as him on eye contact would appreciate the ability to assess your honesty through your eyes — which were telling the truth about your complete lack of knowledge on Deran's secret side quests with his brothers.

With his lips in a pursed line, he nodded (mostly to himself than you), shrugging to himself before putting his attention back on the countertop he'd been cleaning.

He was an unnerving guy. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but you didn't really know him well enough to assess him properly just yet. You liked the intensity he carried with him, though. It reminded you of Deran, but Pope just happened to draw you in more easily. Any scary stories you'd heard about him sounded silly now that you shared this quiet space with him, now that you watched him willingly stay behind and help you clean out of his own volition.

(Which, unbeknownst to you at the moment, had been just an excuse to make sure Deran didn't leave his friend alone at night at a bar in what was arguably a sketchy side of town).

"It's Andrew, by the way."

"Hmm?"

"My- my name. It's Andrew." he stuttered a bit. "You can just call me Andrew."

"Pope reserved for friends only?" you joked.

"No. Andrew is."

And he left it at that, moving from his spot to some of the tables across the bar. Didn't explain what he meant or why he'd say it to you specifically, someone he'd just met. It felt strange, but gratifying all the same. Like a stray dog who entrusted in you, who chose you despite its lack of trust in anyone else.

The two of you continued to clean up the place side by side. The occasional comment was shared, but not much was revealed. He'd asked how you met Deran, which you told him. You'd asked who his favorite brother was, to which he responded that it varied and asked you the same thing, likely not expecting you to say that at that moment, it was him.

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Along with working at the bar, you had a day job as a nurse. It was more of a part-time gig.

You worked on rare occasions, only ever called in when someone was sick or took a leave of absence. It never got in the way of your work at the bar, as that was your priority. Nothing really held a candle to those Oceanside tips you got from smiling at the right person while they were on their way to blackout drunk.

Other than that, you'd sometimes volunteer at the local church.

It wasn't really your vibe, with religion not being something you were particularly into. It had been a coworker who had gotten you into the gig, insisting they needed extra hands and that you were a natural one with kids, frequently filling in as a pedes nurse at the local hospitals. And it was true, you really did find it easy to work with kids. The free food and letters of recommendation to attach to your resume were other contributing factors, but you liked to think you were doing it for more noble reasons.

Oddly enough, Deran took a particular interest when you'd brought up a shift watching over the kids' bible study at the local mega church. He was the last guy you'd ever thought would perk his ears up at the mention of Jesus, but you didn't really question it the first time he asked you about it.

The second and third time, you got more suspicious, but by the fourth time you realized it'd been a mistake to bring it up.

It had come up as a way to break the comfortable silence. You'd been stocking up bottles behind the counter, checking off boxes from the checklist and making sure everything was in place, that none of the other workers were skimping out on Deran (a task he entrusted you with). Until he broke that silence, clearing his throat as he took a seat on the other side of the counter.

"So, uh, you got church stuff this week?"

"Dude, what is it with the church? You planning on getting baptized?"

He chuckled incredulously, shaking his head. "Just curious, that's all."

But that awkward avoidance of eye contact told you all you needed to know, making you stop on your tracks and gape at him. You were about to break that silent vow of, well, silence.

"No way. Don't tell me you're planning on taking on the church." you lowered your voice despite being the only two people in there at that moment.

His eyes widened, looking to the sides as if he was checking to see if any of the zero people in the building could've heard you.

"You-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm not supposed to ask. But you keep asking me. What am I supposed to say? What do you even wanna know, anyway? I'm just a volunteer. I have no insider info as to how to rob a fucking church."

Deran nodded defeatedly. "Yeah, shit, I know. Okay, man? Just- We need someone on the inside. Pope's been working this girl, I think. But she's too green. Blue, even. Probably the type who'd go to the cops if she knew what we're up to."

Andrew? That caught your attention.

He'd been working a girl? You wanted to ask more, but you weren't sure how Deran would take it if you showed particular interest in any of his brothers. Much less the one he liked to deem as the crazy one.

You hadn't seen much of Andrew since last week. Since he'd silently stayed behind and helped clean up the place, telling you to let him know if Deran ever left you alone again. That he'd beat his ass. He'd said it in monotone, not giving you that white knight vibe. He'd said it as if it were the obvious thing to do, like he'd been programed to do so.

After that, you spotted him at the bar two separate times, always looking at him with interest you hoped he'd catch, but never receiving anything more than a blank stare — which, at least it wasn't the angry, suspicious one he offered most other people. No, he looked at you with curiosity more than anything; a curiosity you wanted to feed into.

Hearing that Andrew was working a girl (whatever that meant) gave space for that green monster to take root within you. You had no reason to feel that way, really. Specially not since working the girl sounded like part of a bigger plan, not genuine, and also, of course, because you were nothing to Andrew. Him telling you to call him by his name could've easily meant nothing. It could've easily been him making up for Deran's lack of manners in leaving you on your own on your first day.

"What do you need to know?" you decided to ignore what he'd said about Andrew. "I'm not green, you know that. You're not all that good at keeping me in the dark about your shady shit."

Shit, were you willingly getting involved? Just because the words Pope and girl were used in the same sentence?

Even Deran looked surprised as he looked at you.

"Uh, yeah, I know." he cleared his throat. "I trust you, though."

You nodded, urging him to continue. You stopped your task by then, giving him your full attention. This seemed like one of those things that required complete focus, with it being punishable by law (even by just being aware of it happening).

"Pope's already on the inside. Joined some church group with the girl, uhm, Amy, I think. Craig's out of this one, so we're down a man. An extra set of eyes would help, though. We already scouted the place, know where the safe is and all. Just need someone to keep the guards away when we break into the storage room."

"Shit, you're really robbing a church? You were already going to hell, but now you're going to super hell. Ever heard of karma, Deran?"

"Yeah, that's what Craig said."

"You've always wanted to keep me away from this shit. What's different now?"

He shrugged. "I've known you long enough to trust you. Wanna prove a point to Craig, too."

"Fighting?"

"The usual. Give it a few days."

"Your brothers fine with me involved?" you asked, knowing how tight knit their operation usually ran. Except Smurf wasn't involved now, so maybe things were different.

Again, he shrugged. "Baz might have some issue with it. J too, maybe. Pope seems chill about you. Hasn't said his usual schizo shit about you like he usually does with my friends. Should be fine this one time." he assured. "Question is: Are you good with this?"

"Yeah. We're best friends, aren't we? As long as I don't have to do actual illegal shit, I'm good."

He nodded, squeezing your hand on the counter as a silent form of thank-you.

It wasn't mentioned after that. Nothing was formalized, not even the details of their plan or what you'd be doing. As of now, it sounded like you were an insider, a Plan B in case shit hit the fan. You weren't one to be interested in the shady business they took part in, but you knew Deran wouldn't have brought it up unless it was an emergency. You knew that this was one of their first hits without Smurf, that they were on their own for the first time and needed to ensure things went smooth.

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You didn't feel particularly welcomed by either Andrew or Craig as you and Deran walked towards their spot at the beach, beers in hand.

He'd just gotten back from a job. Just a quickie, he'd called it. Something to hold them over until the church thing in a few weeks. Deran needed the money. Something about the bar, some accounting shit he hadn't taken care of, something he hadn't known of as a newbie property owner.

The two brothers eyed you down as they sipped their own beers, not really acknowledging you as you took a seat on a rock next to Deran. They were uncomfortably quiet, eyes shooting daggers at Deran for bringing an outsider along to a get-together after a successful job.

"Guys, it's fine. She knows about this shit."

"Should she know, Deran?"

"I'm sorry, don't you have a 12-year-old staying at your burnt down apartment? She sure knows a whole lot."

"Fine. Pope?" Craig turned towards Andrew, likely hoping he'd agree with his apprehension.

Andrew simply shrugged, letting his guard down after a minute of staring you down.

"If Deran's cool, then I'm cool."

"Why're you here?" Craig asked, swinging at his beer.

"I'm always here. I live with Deran, he just drags me along. Hard not to know shit when we live together."

"How much do you know?" this time it was Andrew, though he seemed less hostile than Craig, a rare sight.

"I told you. No specifics. I'm just here for Deran."

Before Craig could give a rebuttal, complain about how he was never allowed to bring people in, Deran interrupted.

"See, man? All good." he went to change the subject. "Anyways, I told you guys. This is the shit that we should be doing. Not Baz's bullshit. Admit it, you had fun."

Deran had told you the details about the job while he made a run for some beer back at the bar. You'd been there, restocking when he showed up, with him catching you up on the details while he grabbed a few beers for the guys. It was rare for him to be so open about it all, but you were fine with it as long as he was. Deran had gone this long without getting caught, letting you in on it likely wouldn't change things.

Andrew thought for a second before responding, ultimately deciding it was fine if he talked freely while you were there. Deran was one of the more responsible out of all his brothers. If he trusted you, so did he. His gut didn't feel fucked up while you were around, which was a rare feeling for him.

"It went okay today. It doesn't always go that way."

"We never had any trouble when we did simple shit." he looked to you for a second before continuing, not sure how his brothers would take him talking so freely. "You went to prison cause of Baz."

Andrew stiffened for a second, eyes finding yours before looking away. He looked to the side, uncomfortable at the mention of his time in prison, but Deran called his attention again, set on smearing Baz.

"No, you didn't wanna hit that branch. We all thought it was too hot."

"No, I went to prison because a guard wasn't where he was supposed to be. Shit happens."

It surprised you that Andrew would take the heat off Baz so easily. You'd met him only once or twice, but from what Deran had told you, he'd always taken lead, even when it wasn't for the best interest of the rest. Deran didn't doubt that he loved his brothers, but he was always sure to let you know of his disagreements with him, of how, even if not on purpose, he put his safety above everyone else's.

"How you gonna let him do that to you?" Deran continued.

"Jesus, man, let it go." Craig interrupted, rolling his eyes.

"No, it's true, it's true. Baz acts like we work for him. I mean, maybe us more than you, but... Come on, I know you see it." he gestured towards you. "She sees it too, and she barely even knows the guy."

"You've poisoned the well, that's all." Craig chuckled. "Of course your best friend's gonna agree with you."

You stayed quiet, only really interested in learning the lore around here. You wanted to know which brothers would throw which under the bus. It was useless information, but you were interested in anything you could find out about Andrew.

Andrew looked to you with a blank expression before looking back at Deran. "No. No, man. No. No, this is what she wants. This is what she does. She wants us fighting and turning on each other. I'm not, I'm not doing that."

"She know about Smurf? Or, like, how much does she know?" Craig asked, looking at Deran rather than at you.

"You can just ask me directly, you know."

He turned to you then, "Okay. How much has he told you?"

You shrugged. "I know enough to not be very fond of her."

"Cheers to that." grumbled Andrew.

Craig finished counting the money after that, handing the shares to each respective brother while you sat and watched, nursing your beer, disinterested in the money part of it all. You had free rent staying with Deran, money wasn't your top priority at the moment.

Andrew turned to Deran, extending his stack of money towards him.

"Take it." when Deran looked to Craig suspiciously, Andrew interrupted. "No, he didn't say shit. Just that you need money. Now you have it. I'll give you the rest. 16k, right?"

"No. No, man."

"Consider it a loan." Andrew insisted. "You can pay me back when we do the church, okay? Take it."

Craig followed suit, handing him the money, asking if he could crash with you guys as payment for his share.

The day ended there, with the three of you heading towards the bar while Andrew went back to Baz's to see Lena. You nodded a silent goodbye to him, one which he surprisingly responded to.

In the passing of days until the church job, you saw the brothers quite frequently, became familiar with them. They were at the bar quite often, though they always huddled together on some corner, not wanting anyone listening in. On those days, you'd take charge of business for Deran, bringing them drinks every so often and playing darts once they were done with their private conversations.

Deran hadn't brought up your involvement in the job to his brothers yet, but he'd pretty much confirmed to you he'd need you as some extra eyes, not sure when he'd be able to confirm your part in it all. You didn't care much, really. There was just this teenage girl part of your brain that hoped the job would go on forever if it meant Andrew kept stopping by, kept making short conversation with you as he dropped Lena off at the break room so he could go talk to his brothers.

"Thanks for watching her. She really likes you." he'd say when he'd go to pick her up.

"Well, I really like her too. She takes after you." you'd respond, knowing full and well that Andrew took the brunt of raising her while Baz played around with some girlfriend in Mexico.

Andrew would look down at his feet, fighting a smile, but finding one on your lips when he looked back up.

You'd touch hands sometimes while you handed him Lena's backpack, to which he'd flinch, muttering an apology when you'd chuckle at him, telling him you were looking forward to seeing him again.

You were friends. There was no doubt about that in your mind. Not much words needed to be exchanged. It was a silent agreement between you, a secret thing no one else needed to be let in on.

With the passing of days, you became certain about your infatuation with the eldest Cody boy. And you liked to think it was a mutual thing. He was pretty closed off, but less so with you than with others (or at least that's what Craig and Deran implied a few times while you lounged at your upstairs apartment with them). Your eyes would often find each others', always looking away before your gazes became too intense.

You were fucked, you knew that much. Getting involved with a Cody boy was dangerous, even if it was a one-time thing. But you were looking for something more permanent with Andrew, which would mean you'd now be involved with not one, not two, but three of the brothers.

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Next time you really spoke with Andrew was at the church.

It was your turn to watch the kids during bible study while the adults did bible study of their own. It seemed pointless to you, but as long as you didn't have to touch the religion yourself, you were fine. It was nice to take care of the kids, to braid their hair when it came loose and to take them to listen to the band rehearse after they finished with their studies.

Finishing early gave you a chance to walk around the place, the curiosity about the guys' job taking over you as you walked through the hallways, having the map Deran had shown you on your mind.

You heard talking from one of the back rooms, so you headed in there, finding the classic Socratic Circle bible study groups usually sat in to discuss passages of the bible. As you walked in, you immediately spotted Andrew, who was facing the door as he spoke, drawing the attention on himself. Next to him sat a blonde woman, looking attentively at him as he spoke.

"-be tried beyond what you are able to bear. But with the trial will also provide a way out, so that you may be able to endure. That's the part that matters. How we can bear anything if he have to."

"Right." a man agreed. "Because he loves you. So I guess we're both right-"

"It doesn't say that." Andrew interrupted. "It just says he'll get you through."

You couldn't help but snort to yourself as you watched. He seemed passionate about what he said, just a little intense about it. But you dug it, you were into the look in his eyes as he said it, as he seemingly discovered God and his mercy.

The woman finally spoke up, probably trying to avoid an argument due to Andrew's insistence. "The beauty of the gospel is the meaning can be clear to each of us in a very different way."

She looked to Andrew and bit her lip, all while he was unaware of her eyes on him. When he looked back at her, she was already looking, which earned her an awkward half-smile from him.

He somehow didn't spot you until a few moments later, when the session came to a close. You nodded at him as he stood up, now even more awkward at realizing you'd been listening.

It didn't seem to you like he was working the girl — who you assumed to be the Amy Deran had mentioned. It appeared more like a genuine interest in her, in the church. It made your stomach twist, the jealousy gearing up as you saw her walk over to him shyly and give him a side hug before walking over to someone else who was calling her attention. Andrew's eyes stayed on you the whole time, a sort of frustrated yet terrified look in them. You weren't sure.

He walked over to you then, nodding so you'd step to the side with him for some privacy from the center of the room.

"What are you doing here?"

"I volunteer with the kids' bible study. I thought Deran would've told you. I-"

"What do you mean Deran would've told me? What do you know about this? How'd you know I'd be in here?" his voice grew more exasperated by the second, but he kept it low.

It was like he didn't want you to see him with Amy, or maybe he didn't want Amy to see him with you. He'd never spoken to you with anything but a soft tone, one you didn't really hear directed at anyone other than Lena. The swift change made you shudder.

You didn't like this. You thought he had some sort of soft spot for you. He knew you already knew about the church thing, about a few other things too. Why was he mad at you being here? Yeah, he didn't know Deran was considering your help just yet, but was your involvement that bad? He was the one getting all cozy with Amy, involuntarily dragging her into this. And for what reason? Why, when you were right there, willing and ready?

"Deran said you guys might need my help that day." you chose to rip off the band-aid. He was already mad, there was no point in baby gloves. "I heard people talking and walked in here." You gestured over to Amy, who had by now eyed you a few times. "'s that Amy?"

Andrew grabbed your wrist suddenly, with much more force than you'd expect he'd touch you with, walking you over to the door and stopping there, your bodies now being covered by a wall beside it.

He practically fumed, making your heart drop. Not in fear, but in disappointment. "Don't ask questions. If Deran wants you in this, you don't ask questions, okay? Amy and I, we're not- Don't say her name to anyone else. It doesn't involve you."

He was defensive about it, practically about to blow up. It made that tiny little spark in you die completely.

Shit. He wasn't just working some girl. He was just genuinely into her.

Defeated, you nodded, looking down at your feet while he let go of your hand. He calmed down immediately, noticing your change in demeanor, your defeated confidence, which was usually blooming and present.

"I'm- I'm sorry, I just-"

"No, Andrew. Got you loud and clear. I'll see you later, okay? I think Amy's looking for you, you should go." you walked away before he could say anything else, steps quick so you could remove yourself from the room.

From behind you, you heard her voice calling his name, asking what was wrong, who were you. You were already gone by the time he responded, missing when he said 'nothing,' 'just my friend.' And specially missing Amy giving Andrew her number, inviting him and Lena out to the park, not knowing you'd probably be there volunteering too.

You saw Andrew again that weekend, at the softball game Amy had invited him to. It rubbed salt on the wound, seeing them there, seeing how close they were already. Amy had her arm perched on Andrew's as they watched Lena play. They looked like proud parents, already meeting each other's kids and having those outings reserved for nuclear families you'd see on TV. You had a bitter taste in your mouth, feeling like an idiot for even feeling this way.

Andrew saw you, just didn't really acknowledge you. He kept avoiding your eyes, unlike any other time you were in the same room together. He'd usually hold your gaze, give you one of those almost-smiles and sit by you at the bar's counter, not speaking but rather sharing your company.

Lena saw you, excitedly running over to you as you reached over for a hug. She was excited to show you she'd brought along a doll you gave her, happily engaging with you as you asked her questions about her day, about her new toys. You were the one who would watch her, keep her out of the main area of the bar and give her something to play with, bringing some old doll from your childhood or a coloring book for her. Andrew was always appreciative of it, but he'd been distant these past few days, telling Lena to go find you at the bar rather than walking her over to you as he usually did.

You'd mostly given up hope on getting with Andrew, seeing him with Amy for only the second time cemented that for you. So when Andrew tried calling you over once Amy excused herself to the bathroom, you simply walked Lena over to him, cutting him off with a goodbye before he could say anything.

The defeated look in his eyes made you feel bad, but you weren't willing to try and chase after a taken guy.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew had gone on his date, had kissed Amy, spent ample time with her while taking care of Lena.

It was the first time he'd ever dated anyone. The first time he didn't feel completely inadequate with someone, or as if there was some master plan or pity behind the other person's intentions. It'd all been built on a lie, on a plan to work the church, but Andrew still went along with it all, still found himself drawn to Amy and willing to take the risk.

But then he'd think about you.

He'd think about the way you'd look at him, the way that look faded when he snapped at you back at the church, how it was beyond repair when you saw him at that softball game with Amy and Lena.

He wasn't sure what to do. He'd never had two girls interested in him at once. Having one already felt like too much, but, shit, he couldn't help but think about you while he was with Amy.

And sure, he thought about her sometimes, while he was alone, while he was with his brothers. But you never left his mind. Every moment spent with Amy felt like he was cheating on you. He'd never felt this infatuated with anyone, not even Cath. But he'd also never had anyone be so forward about their interest in him. Amy was a brand new experience, and it made him feel good, no matter how shitty it felt to lie to her (and to you, and to himself).

The day of the job, it all went well. His brothers saw him with Amy, but they sort of already knew. They thought it was fake, that it had been all part of the plan, and he could roll with that. It bothered him, though, that the only person he wanted to keep this from already knew how real it all was.

He saw you as he stayed back with Amy and the rest of the group. Saw you texting, likely keeping Deran updated and checking in with J and Baz as they hacked into the safe while Andrew hung around with the church's staff. He was too distracted with Amy to keep track of the text thread. He was being careless, not only with you but also with the job.

And when it came time to do his part, to go and break the key on the lock that led back to the room in which the safe resided, he was too distracted by Amy's words earlier that day.

"You might have a special reward coming your way tonight."

Sex.

He had been caught off guard by that, not really knowing how to respond, opting to ask her about it later.

And when he did ask, she apologized claiming premarital sex was a sin, but immediately explained they could have fun in other ways. Andrew felt himself twitch at the thought, but then he remembered you, thought about how you'd offer yourself up to him if he just opened up to you, thought of how you felt about premarital sex. You didn't seem like a church person, not like Amy was. He wasn't much of a church person either, just liked what it represented, the promise of acceptance he'd never gotten anywhere else.

Before he could really explore any further thought about you, a guard came in, letting them know it was time to close up. Amy excitedly grabbed onto his hand after that, leading him outside. He panicked internally, knowing he had a mission to accomplish, but he'd waited too long. He didn't know how he'd explain to Amy that he needed a detour. But as soon as they stepped outside, he realized he wouldn't need to.

Because you were there. Already by the door that held the key, guard having already being warded off by you through some distraction Andrew had only caught the tail end of.

While you watched Amy pull Andrew away from his destination, the key to the door holding the safe, you looked back at him, finding his eyes already on you, pleading with you to do this for him, to cover for him as he got pulled away. He was supposed to be the inside-man, having one simple task, but he'd let himself get pushed away by his interest in a girl. He felt like an idiot as he looked back at you, finding your blank stare as you broke the key yourself, doing his job for him, not judging him the way his brothers would've.

The guys hadn't exactly agreed to your involvement in the plan, much less had Andrew. He'd been uncharacteristically adamant against you showing up, that you be told the details. But he'd been promptly told to shut the fuck up by Deran, who insisted, saying that Andrew wasn't enough of an inside man, that you'd be completely inconspicuous to any bystander as someone who already had a presence at the church. They'd agreed on having you as a plan B and nothing more, promising they'd give you 20k for your part, impressed when you turned down any money, saying Deran was family to you and that was enough payment.

So Andrew got pulled away, turning out completely useless to a job he'd originally come up with and heading out with a girl that had promised him sex in return for his help with the charity drive.

And even as he went back to Amy's place, kissed her, undressed himself to her command, touched himself as she watched, he felt inadequate. He enjoyed himself, finally having someone who liked his company, but he couldn't get you out of his head, couldn't stop thinking about what you might've been thinking at that moment. It'd been obvious that Amy had been gripping his hand and skipping away in a hurry to get him alone. You weren't stupid, Andrew knew that. He knew you knew what they'd be up to as soon as they left, with him being too weak and infatuated with Amy to interrupt his chance with her to complete his small part of the job.

His stomach churned at knowing you knew what was going on with Amy, at you knowing it was a real thing. He wasn't even sure if you liked him. Had no idea if it was all in his head (as most things were), but he still felt sick about it all. He knew what it was like to want someone who didn't want you back, someone who wanted someone else rather than you. Hell, it was the story of his life.

Except he did want you. He had from the moment Deran began bringing you up. He'd seen you hang with Deran around town sometimes, never being spotted by you as he watched. But, fuck, he'd been drawn from that first moment. Specially so once Deran actually introduced you over a month ago. He'd found understanding in your eyes, had found your eyes searching for his, not Deran's, not Craig's, not Baz's.

He hoped that the more he got to know you, he'd be able to create a space in your life for him. You were already so good with Lena, telling Deran to fuck off when he'd tell you to get back to work when Andrew showed up with Lena, saying you'd take care of her while they got their shit together. You'd slap Craig when he'd say dumb shit directed at his brothers, specially when it came to Andrew. And you'd stare — a lot, never once wavering away from the intense gaze he'd give back, the same one everyone seemed so terrified of.

But then came Amy and forgiveness.

Amy gave him a door towards forgiveness. For Julia, for Cath, for Lena. She was on the outside, not knowing anything that could get her to run away from his in feat that she'd be the next person he hurt.

And you? You knew too much. You were Deran's best friend, practically attached to his hip, kept at a distance from the family but not enough for you to not know every gory detail behind their inner workings.

But even knowing all that, you still offered Andrew an olive branch. You never said so explicitly, but he could see it in your eyes, could see you'd accept him.

The moment that spark in your eyes first left was when you saw him with Amy at the church, the second when you saw them together at the softball game, the third being when he walked away with her to sleep with her, something made abundantly clear to you by the pep in Amy's step as they walked away.

When he left Amy's place the following morning, he felt like utter shit. Even more than he did at lying to her about what'd happened at the church, at using her trust in him to get what he and his brothers wanted from the church.

And unbeknownst to him, he'd feel even worse a few hours later when he found out that you'd been helping patch up J with his brothers while he was too busy masturbating with Amy.

The job went fine, it went just as planned. But Andrew couldn't help but wish none of it had ever happened.

You didn't take part in any of the aftermath of it all. Your job started and ended at the key on that lock, with you never once bothering to rat out Andrew for how dumbly he had let his responsibility run away from him. When he saw you after that day, he couldn't even meet your eyes. He'd see Amy when he closed his eyes, but the thought would quickly be interrupted by you, by the way in which he'd completely broken something before it even started.

He'd be dealing with the consequences of Cath's death at that time too. Had been dealing with Jay and his guys raiding his home, with his guilt over both, beating himself up over what he'd done to Cath and how Baz would now have to deal with the consequences, how he'd lied to Amy and how you'd lied for him, letting him take credit for the inside job when he'd been completely useless.

You didn't know about Cath, about Jay, and he was glad Deran left it that way. But little by little, you were getting involved.

When Andrew stopped by the bar, he'd found Deran in the back alleyway showing you how to shoot a gun, telling you the basic details of what'd been going on, what risks you ran hanging with him. He heard you be nonchalant about it, once more letting Deran know you'd stick around no matter what, that he was family. Andrew wondered if you'd ever feel that way about him, hoped he hadn't fucked everything up already.

His web of lies continued as the days passed, framing one of Amy's friends for the church crime, breaking her heart about it in the process. And in the meantime, Deran got you involved in yet another job, taking the place of Nicky at the last minute in the yacht as you tricked the coast guard into helping you in order to get the plan in motion.

Andrew had to go in on Deran after the fact due to that, cornering him about your involvement, angry he'd put you in danger again.

You were all at the back of the bar when he arrived, all with beers in your hands, reminiscing about the way it all went, how Marcos had had to break a lady's finger in order to get the job done. But Andrew was pissed. He had already put Amy on the line for the church job, with you being dragged right along. And now Deran had you doing a second job within a week?

He marched towards the table, eyes landing on you and anger wavering at the concerned look in your eye. But he pushed it aside, grabbing Deran by the arm and pulling him away from the group, walking him towards the stocking closet so he could have his go at him.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What are you talking about? What's your problem? It all went well, we're just celebrating-"

"You got her involved in this shit? Again? Are you trying to get her arrested, or even better, killed?" he rasped out, smoke practically coming out of his nose.

Deran scoffed, "Dude, mind your own damn business. This was Craig's job, Nicky pulled out last minute, and she was game. What do you want me to say?"

"Yeah, so you get her involved in this shit again? Did you miss what happened to J the other day? What happened to Nicky? Want her to be next?"

Andrew stared up at him, eyebrows knit together and anger radiating off him. He couldn't even explain his anger, couldn't rationalize to Deran why he cared if you were involved, and didn't give a damn about Nicky's involvement.

Everything was dawning on him. Baz's suspicions about Cath's disappearance, Smurf's insistence he keep it a secret, Jay's guys, the raid on the house, lying to Amy, putting you in danger, having you become a frequent presence in his life. Andrew had nowhere to run, nowhere to exhaust his terror, his anger, so he chose to take it out on Deran, to make it all about you, about how frustrated and confused you made him feel.

"I'm going to say this one last time, Pope. Mind your own damn business. She's my friend, she's the only family I have that I can always fall back on. And if me and Craig want her around, she's staying around. Got it?"

He walked away with that, shoulder pushing Andrew's in the process as he headed back out and rejoined the rest of you.

Deran didn't understand Andrew's concern. Didn't catch onto the fear he felt at the mere thought of you in danger.

It was a rare occurrence for Deran to lose his cool like that, but Andrew could understand that you were on a different playing field for him. That you were untouchable, a person he'd let into the most personal parts of his life, but would never let anyone mess with. And even though Andrew understood that, at this very moment, it still made him fume.

He marched past your table on his way out, not joining the celebratory drinks and making his way back to his car. His anger subsided on the drive over to Amy's, but the flashbacks took over. He was numb as he sat parked in front of her house, thinking back to Cath, to what he'd done to her, reliving every painful detail.

But as he sat there, he thought; would Deran go to you with something like that? Would you offer solace to him if he'd come to you, tears in his eyes, pained and tormented by the way in which he'd hurt a woman he loved? Would you take him in? Hold him? Were you Deran's comfort?

Andrew knew you and Deran weren't involved in that way. He knew about Deran, knew what was going on with Adrian. He wasn't an idiot, so he never acknowledged it, never brought it up. It wasn't something he cared about, but he found himself thinking about it at this moment, hands gripping at his steering wheel so hard his knuckles turned white. Were you Deran's person? The one he'd go to begging for forgiveness if he ever committed acts as sinful as Pope had all his life?

He decided then, that he needed to find that. And if it wasn't you, if you were already taken up by being Deran's, then Amy would be his person.

She'd spoken of forgiveness, of unconditional love. She'd held him that night, had looked him in the eye as they both reached completion in their own terms, had laid with him afterwards and whispered soft words in his ear. Maybe she'd be the one. Maybe he had to let go of any possibility with you and stick with what he had.

When he went to knock on her door, she let him in immediately, making him sigh in relief.

They didn't speak much that night. They slept together, going against her beliefs, but Andrew was too caught up in his emotions to really care for that. He needed to feel something, the comfort he rarely ever found, given to him by Amy.

He learned a lot about her in the past month he'd known her. He knew of her son, of her DUI, how he'd been taken away, how he was staying with her brother. He saw the brokenness behind Amy's eyes, comforted her with his body as she did him with hers. They used each other that night, waking up enamored and with their spirits slightly lifted. They'd taken that heaviness off each other, now sharing the weight together.

It wasn't until a few days later that he went back to see her, that the guilt got too much, that Baz's inquiries about Cath got too heavy for him to handle that he found himself at her door again, wondering if Amy would offer some more of that comfort again. But once more, he thought of you before knocking on the door, wondering if you'd be a more permanent fix than Amy was. Wondering if you'd accept him after he confessed what he was bout to confess to Amy.

He knocked on her door, tears already in his eyes.

"Hey."

"Hey." she let him in, walking him further inside. "I thought you weren't coming til later."

He shook his head. "I need to talk to you."

"What's the matter? What's going on?" she asked, but he stayed silent. "Andrew."

"Do you think forgiveness is possible?" he looked to her with his wet eyes.

"I do. I think Jesus' love is absolute."

"Is it possible for him to... to love someone who's done something horrible? Is it possible?"

He thought of Cath, of Lena, of the lies he'd been feeding Amy since that first day. He thought of you, how he pushed you away before he could even feel the softness of your being engulf him.

"I hope so."

He gulped, "Could you?"

Could you? Would you hold him as he cried, as he lamented his past mistakes, the nightmares that haunted him day and night? Would Amy?

"Andrew, what's wrong? You can tell me anything."

"I hurt someone." he started. "A woman I loved. I loved her. But I did it anyway."

Cath. He saw her every time he looked at Lena, at Baz. Sometimes when he looked at you, wondering if you'd hate him for what he did.

Amy's grip on his hands loosened, taking a minuscule step back.

"Did what? What did you do?"

She sounded scared, but Andrew kept going. He needed to see this through.

"I thought she was going to hurt my family." he stopped, taking a deep, shaky breath. "I put a pillow on her face. And I held it there until she couldn't breathe anymore."

He hadn't realized it over his own whimpers, the tears fogging his eyesight, but Amy had backtrakced all the way to the wall, dropping to the floor as she cried a little louder at every word leaving his lips.

She looked at him in utter fear, telling him to stop, to get out, to leave and not come back.

"Stop. Stop. Don't- You need to leave. Andrew, you need to-"

And he tried to plead, to make his case and beg for forgiveness. He tried to find a home in Amy, to find that love and forgiveness she'd all but promised him, only to find that horrified look in her eyes he'd grown far too used to seeing whenever someone looked at him.

He left, sitting on the other side of her locked door as he cried to himself. And when he was able to get himself back up, he drove to the beach, taking his gun with him as he sat by the pier, contemplating what had led him there.

Andrew thought of Lena as he sat there with his loaded gun, thought of who would take care of her if he was out of the picture. Andrew remembered you then, knowing you'd step in, force your way into Baz's life if necessary and get him to take charge, would make Deran get involved so she would have a normal life now that her uncle was gone.

You wouldn't be sad about his departure, he decided. He'd been so convinced that Amy would lend him a shoulder to cry on, that her promises for unconditional forgiveness would prove true, that the weight on his shoulder's for Cath's murder would weigh just a little less with her support, but he'd only found the one constant in his life — fear.

If he had told you, if he had played his cards right and not driven you away, you would've grown just as terrified of him. You wouldn't've accepted him. No one would ever.

So, it was better like this. It was better if he put himself out of the picture, if he left you alone and stopped causing that sad look in your eyes every time he came around.

But still, he wished he could've told you how he felt. He wished he could've been careless and told you he loved you — because his feelings for you were so heavy they could be nothing else if not love. He would've scared you away then, which he knew. But the small chance of the feelings being reciprocated was enough for him to grab his phone one last time and pull up your number.

He sent one last message to you before he put his phone down for the last time.

I'm sorry.
Grabbing the gun, he looked at the moon reflecting on the ocean's waves as one last view before holding it up to his temple, the coldness of the material making him shudder. His hand was a little shaky, but he was sure of his decision.

Or so he thought until his phone vibrated on his lap, a dumb gleam of hope forcing him to put the gun down.

➽──────────────────❥

You were at some stupid party with the guys when you got that text.

It was your first time at Smurf's, having never met her before. Deran had always been adamant about keeping you away from her. She'd never heard your name, had never known of your existence. As far as she was aware, you were a passing acquaintance in Deran's life, and he was sure as hell to keep it that way.

But today she'd been gone. Baz had called the boys to confirm her absence, even inviting Lucy, who was the one person in his life he always tried to keep away from Smurf.

You stayed with the guys for a bit, hanging with Craig and Deran after they'd dragged you along to that job with Marcos. It had been too much too soon, leaving you disoriented at the whole ordeal — the kid Marcos had kidnapped and dropped in on Deran and Craig, the threats made against the poor kid, hearing him be beaten to a pulp inside Marcos' truck when he came to pick him up, Lucy showing up and commandeering the whole mission. It had even left the two brothers out of breath, now terrified of Lucy and wondering if they should warn Baz about her.

Andrew was what was on your mind. You moved past the Marcos thing when you arrived to the party, seeing Lena be dropped off by Alison and being reminded of Andrew.

You were worried about him. The last time you'd seen him was a few days ago, when he stormed off after a screaming match with Deran at his bar. You hadn't heard any of the exchange, but Deran made sure to bitch about it with you after the fact. Knowing that Andrew had shown such concern for you touched you, but you didn't let your hopes up too much. You knew he was with Amy, which was probably where he was at this moment.

You'd seen him walk away from the job to hook up with her, had seen how giddy she'd been to drag him away, how he looked to you and pleaded silently to let him have this. Or at least that was the impression he gave you. And it'd been enough to make your stomach churn for weeks afterwards, having to think about him with someone else.

It's not like Andrew was yours. He had never been yours. Not in the year you knew of him, not in the months you'd actually known him, much less in the weeks he'd been infatuated by Amy.

It was pathetic to think about, but you'd fallen for a guy you barely knew. His sad eyes implanted themselves in your heart, taking a home there and making it impossible for you to function without thinking about him. You still held some stupid hope that things with Amy wouldn't work out, that you'd have your chance. But you were just being an idiot.

Then you got that text.

You'd tried to go take care of Lena, but Lucy beat you to it, taking her to some room with a promise of some games on her iPad, leaving you to wander around the house as you watched people fool around. It was a terrible environment for her, but you couldn't go against her dad's wishes, so you silently hoped she'd be fine. Which was when the text interrupted your stream of consciousness.

I'm sorry
It was ominous, making your heart drop immediately.

Andrew rarely ever texted you. There'd been a 'Good morning' once, a few 'I'm dropping off Lena at the bar. Are you there?' but never anything other than that. It made you rush to find Deran, dialing Andrew's phone at the same time as you did, but receiving no form of response.

Was he with Amy? Maybe she'd know where he was. And where the hell was Baz? Did he go looking for him? What if this had anything to do with Smurf?

A million thoughts clouded your brain, eyes foggy due to the tears already building up. Andrew was a volatile person, careless about his own safety, no matter how much everything he did was driven by love for his family. He didn't share any of that love with himself, something no one really acknowledged much.

You were frantic as you ran to Deran, pulling him away from some stupid drinking game he'd been playing with Craig.

With concern, he pulled you aside, sobering up at just seeing your current state.

"Hey, hey. What happened?"

"An-Andrew. He texted me. I need to find him. Where is he? Is he with Baz? Deran, I need to find him. He won't pick up. He won't-"

You babbled, making no sense to Deran, but you kept going on and on, hyperventilating as your shaky hands kept pressing Andrew's contact, texting misspelled pleas to him in a frantic attempt to reach him.

Before Deran could try and make sense of your babbles, a commotion called all your attentions. Someone screamed "Lena, wait!" and it had you running to the driveway.

There, you found Lena, tripped over and a man picking her up from where she'd fallen from her toy ATV. Apparently, Lucy had neglected her, leaving her behind and causing her to go wandering around the house in search of a familiar face. When she didn't, she went to play on her bike, not noticing a car backing up and being pushed out of the way by some partygoer. Thankfully, J and Nicky had been nearby, taking care of her and calling Andrew in the process.

You calmed yourself down and sat with her, sighing in relief at hearing Andrew on the other side of the line as he spoke to Lena. You let J and Nicky get back to partying, staying with Lena on the driveway as you waited for Andrew to arrive. Some tears still dampened your cheeks, but you comforted Lena instead of yourself, making sure her scrapes were taken care of properly.

By the time Andrew arrived, he found you there with Lena, cuddled up against the garage door at the entrance of the driveway. He marched towards you, fuming at the party he found at his house. His eyes softened when he reached you, finally meeting your eyes and frowning at Lena asleep on your lap.

"Andrew-" you sighed.

"I'll be- I'll be right back, okay?"

You nodded, eyes still watery as you looked up at him.

It was a silent agreement that you needed to talk.

You grabbed Lena as Andrew stormed into the house, perching her on your arm and taking her passed-out form over to Smurf's room so she could sleep in there. You had to kick out two drunk girls making out, but you were mad enough at that moment they didn't question the angry look on your face.

Outside you could hear Andrew's scream as he kicked everyone out, closing the door behind you as you stepped outside and found him standing there with his shotgun while people ran off.

Baz arrived and a short argument ensued. You stood on the sidelines, eyeing Baz with disdain at the way in which he'd left Lena alone in such a dangerous environment, equally as mad at his brothers for not stepping in and taking her away from Lucy.

The big reveal that Smurf was in jail went over your head. You didn't care about Smurf. Not now, not ever. You cared about Deran, about Andrew, maybe now about Craig to a fair extent. Everyone else was on your shitlist for the time being.

Everyone dispersed after that, all while you stood there, at the door as you waited for everyone to leave. Deran kissed your cheek as he walked over to some empty room, with his own now being J's. Andrew remained there, pensive and looking down at the pool, his back facing you.

Taking a few steps forward, you stood behind him, a good foot distance between you. You cleared your throat, making his face turn towards you, his body following suit as he now stood face to face in front of you.

You were angry, livid, even. Your demeanor may not have shown it, but you had never been angrier in your life.

There had been a good fifteen minutes in there in which you thought Andrew hadn't made it. That his thoughts had taken over and that he'd let all the shit in his life win and take him away from you before you could even get him.

"I'm sorry."

The same words he'd texted you. The ones that you understood upon first sight, and the ones that were meant to be his final.

"How could you- how could you fucking do that to me?"

He said your name, defeated, but you interrupted, taking a few steps forward.

"What, you shut me out for weeks, run off with your- your girlfriend, and then you disappear on me? You try to fucking- to ... you'd really do that to me?" you cried, not willing yourself to say the words. "What did I ever do to you?"

That's when the dam broke, when your hands went up to your eyes, covering them as you hunched over and cried into them. But it didn't last long. Not when a sturdy body came to hold you against his chest, strong arms wrapped around you and head of curls burying itself in the crook of your neck as he let out some quiet sobs of his own.

You weren't sure how long you embraced each other by the pool, but by the time Andrew led you back into his room, you were spent, cheeks damp with dry tears and throat sore. He led you by your hand, grasping it for the first time ever and sitting you on his bed while he silently went over to his closet and grabbed some spare clothes, checking to see if the connective bathroom was empty before leading you in there and closing the door behind you.

Numb, you changed your clothes, accepting his silent plea for silence for the time being.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew stood there, dumbfounded. He was breathless, hand dragging down his face to try and clear his thoughts from tonight.

It was all clouding his head. The whole thing with Amy was the last thing on his mind. He was thinking about Lena, Baz, Smurf, you. You were ringing in his head, you in his bathroom, changing into his clothes, crying for his safety, furious at the risk he'd put himself in, at the final goodbye he'd given you.

When you walked out, his shirt swallowed you, his boxers hugged your legs, barely visible under the length of the shirt. Your makeup was runny, leaving small tracks due to the tears that had streamed down your face.

There was a blank look on your face as he stood there, directly in front of you.

Slowly, you closed the bathroom door from behind you, taking a few steps forward and meeting him there.

He opened his mouth, about to speak, but you interrupted him, hands engulfing his jaw and pulling him into you, mouth open as it received his.

Groaning into your lips, he pulled you closer, opening his mouth to let your tongue in and chasing it with his own. His hands traveled down to your waist, hugging you to him as you moaned into his lips.

Everything was fuzzy now, all thoughts gone and your warmth being the only thing on his mind. Your bodies molding together was enough to have him gasping into your mouth. You felt perfect against him, the perfect fit as you pushed your hips into his own, walking him back into his bed and settling on his lap.

There, you pressed up against him, hands on his shoulders as your hips rolled on his. He hissed, gripping your thighs and attempting to match your movements, helping your rhythm against him.

He licked into your mouth, sighing when he'd catch your tongue and you'd wrap it around his, sucking at it, making his eyes roll back. Your moans were swallowed by him, with his whimpers swallowed by you in return. A string of saliva formed any time your lips would separate to start a brand new kiss, but Andrew couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted your every fluid to be his, wanted to meld into you.

Antsy hands pulled at his clothes, silently begging for their removal, whining when he helped you take them off, feeling the warm skin underneath.

"Andrew ..." you looked at him, eyes hooded, biting your lip with a look in your eyes Andrew had never seen before.

"Yeah?" he whispered, lips hovering over yours.

Your hands dragged softly up and down his bare chest, scratching at his pecs lightly before pushing him down to lay flat on the bed.

"Look at you ... Fuck, Andrew ..."

You didn't explain yourself further, kissing him with need again and taking his breath away once more.

His own hands itched to get your clothes off, sneaking under the shirt he'd given you and feeling the bare skin there. You were the softest thing he'd ever felt, and as his hands silently begged to reach higher, to round your torso and find the mounds of your breasts, you ripped away to pull your shirt off, grabbing his hands and placing them there yourself.

"Touch me." you breathed, licking his lips. "I want your hands on me, Andrew."

Andrew undressed you, ripping off his own boxers off of you before he fully undressed himself. It was awkward, as he refused to create any space between you as he did so, but in the end he had you straddling him, wet and leaking all over his lap all while you whined his name into his lips.

His eyes trailed down, huffing a heavy breath at the sight of you nude on his lap, skin ready for the taking. He kissed his way down, low enough to reach your breasts, nudge them with his nose, trap your nipples in his lips and pull at them with his teeth.

The noises you made had him lightheaded, made him unsure if he could keep going without fully losing his mind.

Hesitant, his hands trailed down your back, gripping your ass and bringing you closer. You rolled your hips into his, sucking his tongue when his mouth opened with a sigh of your name.

When he tried to reach between you, get his fingers soaked in between your legs, you stopped him, grunting into his mouth and pushing him down the bed once more. Instead, your hand snuck in the space between you, taking hold of his hardness and swallowing every cry that left his lips.

"Please." he whimpered.

You worked him in your hand, jerking him while your lips trailed down his chest, sucking marks there without a care. He shook under you, shuddering at every bite, every suck, every soothing lick.

This was new to him. He'd had sex before, many times. Sometimes he'd open the door to some hooker sent by Smurf, taking out his frustrations on the unsuspecting woman. Other times it'd be Baz fronting the payment for a stripper doing extra services at the strip club downtown. And on very rare occasions, it'd be someone he actually liked, only to realize afterwards that it hadn't been what he'd made it out to be in his head.

You, though ... You were the first time he'd ever had a taste of solace. You were the first time Andrew had a girl he was crazy about, one that enjoyed the crazy, shuddered over it when he'd pinch at your nipple, when his teeth graced at the lobe of your ear, when he'd groan your name at your touch.

And when you lifted yourself up, his dick still in your hand, soaked with precum, you cried his name, shameless in it as you sunk down on him, arching your back, chest pressed onto his and mouth agape in sheer pleasure.

Not once had he ever felt like this. Pleasure had always been transactional, a quick fix for the mental turmoil always invading him. But with you, with your body ground against his, shuddering at every bounce of your hips, sighing out his name like it was the only word you knew, with you he felt like there was no consequence to the pleasure. It was free, all for him to take, for him to be selfish for once and keep all for himself.

"Andrew, oh, fuck, An-Andrew." your head dropped back, and Andrew watched you, groaning your name in return and refusing to close his eyes, damned if he was going to miss a single second of your pleasure.

You were tight around him, squeezing him whenever he'd make a sound, rewarding him for his pleasure. You wanted him loud, wanted him making noise for you, letting you know how much of him you owned at that moment (and always, he'd decided).

And he wanted to give it to you, to give back from everything you'd given him thus far.

With his hands gripping the backs of your thighs, he rolled you over, hovering over you and caging you with his body. The squeal you let out would've usually worried him, with the rest of the family being around and all, but then you gripped at the muscle of his back, insisting on getting him closer. Because skin to skin just didn't seem like enough for you. No, you wanted him deep within you, a concept Andrew could not understand, but quickly grew addicted to.

Sooner than he'd hoped, he felt himself about to bust, frustrated at how good you felt, how perfectly you gripped him and cried his name as if he was the only thing you'd ever wanted.

Again, he reached between you, fingers crawling their way between your legs, at that hidden spot that had your legs tightening around his waist, your gasps more breathless and your nails leaving red lines down his back. Thumbing at your clit, he got your there, got you whining his name, a warning of your impending orgasm, the one that had him biting your shoulder in pure bliss.

"Come, fuck. Andrew, please." you cried. "Inside, want- want it inside."

He made a mess between you, grunting at every thrust as he filled you up, forcing every drop deep within you, wanting himself buried as deep as humanly possible. He wanted to morph into you, wanted to keep himself in you, safe and away from anyone else he could ever hurt.

Because with you, inside your warmth, he could never hurt anyone. All he could do was make you feel good, make you cry his name in a way no one ever had before.

When he pulled away, you sighed his name one last time, kissing at him, refusing to let him pull away too far. You kept him as close as possible, shrugging him off when he offered to clean you up, to clean the bed from the mess you'd created togethet.

You told him, later. Right now you still wanted him, still wanted him in your arms and to feel his warm skin against your own. To kiss him and hold him and remind him how much you cared about him, in a way you'd never cared about anyone before.

And Andrew didn't know what to do with that, what to say or how to feel. He didn't understand how this could be real, wanted to keep his guard up just in case the rug was about to be pulled from under him.

But for now he held you back, returning your kisses, kneading your skin extra soft any time you'd tell him something that had his heart pumping too fast for comfort.

-

You laid in silence for a while, hands refusing to leave the other's body. No word of everything that'd happened was brought up, not until you broke that comfortable silence.

"Andrew ... What about Amy?"

He sighed. "There's no more Amy. There ... there never should've been."

You made a questioning noise, urging him to explain, but keeping your head on his chest, hands still running up and down its expanse with a softness he'd never grown familiar with.

"I was always thinking about you. I couldn't- couldn't get you out of my head."

"Me neither." you mumbled with a kiss to his pec.

A beat of silence.

"I'm sorry about the lock. It was my job, I should've-"

"It's okay, Andrew. I understand."

His hand on your hip trailed lower, pulling your leg further up his waist and pulling you even closer to him.

"And ... I'm sorry about that message."

You blinked a few wet tears before responding, sniffling and causing him to intake a breath. He didn't really wanna talk about it, but he'd fucked up so many things already by not talking to you. He had to rip off every band-aid right now, no matter how you'd look at him after the fact. He wasn't willing to keep anything from you anymore, having already made the two of you miserable with his constant stream of silence towards you.

Even if you looked at him the same way Amy had, he wouldn't hurt you anymore. He'd seek your understanding, but would accept if you feared him in the same way most others had.

"I was worried about you." you responded, quiet, meek. "I don't know what I'd do if you left."

You brought him down to your eye level, hand running through his curls and lips pecking his nose, then his chin, sad eyes staring into his matching ones.

"I love you, Andrew. I need you around for a long time."

His breath caught in his throat, eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. Fingers tightened around your skin, holding you against him, pulling you into him as much as he could, itching to get you under his skin, to attach you to him and never let anything come between you ever again.

Burying his head in your neck, he kissed you there, shameless in breathing in your scent and nuzzling his nose into the skin there, sighing when you pulled him closer by the back of his neck, mumbling a few other 'i love you's while he was still processing the first one.

"I love you too." he finally mumbled, repeating it a couple more times, wrapping himself around you, shuffling as he tried and failed to enter your skin, needing to fit in there, keep himself warm and safe within you.

The two of you stayed awake for hours, held each other with the tenderest of holds. It was unlike anything Andrew had ever felt before. Every touch of yours he received was full of silent affection. Each touch carried a thousand words that reaffirmed your feelings for him, and he felt secure in every single one. There was no doubt in his mind at that moment that you loved him, that you might've been the first one to actually do so.

He cried in your arms at some point, drawing tears from your eyes too when you caught wind of his whimpers. But you held him through it all, not pushing him to talk, instead uttering words of comfort, many of which he'd heard from Smurf in the past. Before you, he might've felt himself desensitized to such words, but he found comfort in anything you did.

But then he remembered what had happened with Amy, what thoughts had been plaguing his mind before he braved his way to her doorstep, opening himself up more than he ever had before and finding himself kicked out, feeling like a heinous beast as he sat there and cried to himself. Memories of you flooded his head, the way in which he wondered if you'd accept him, if he should've been at your doorstep instead, if you loved Deran in the way he envied to be loved by you.

As afraid as he was of your rejection, knowing it'd drive him right back to that pier, gun to his head out of his own volition, he needed to know. Would you love him despite being the monster everyone believed him to be? Even his brothers were afraid of him, using him as a threat to anyone who dared cross them.

You were the only person who only ever looked at him with love (and sometimes with hurt, caused by his cowardice). Julia had been the only other person with genuine concern in her eyes any time his lips curled downward, never assuming the worst in him like his other siblings did.

"I need to tell you something." he whispered into the night.

You were still awake, fingers still tracing one or other part of his body, seemingly unable to get their fill of his skin beneath them.

"Yeah?" it was almost whispered.

"Do you- do you believe in forgiveness?"

You nodded against him.

"Even if you can't take back what you did?"

You nodded again, mumbling 'yes' as you pecked his skin, light as a feather.

"I ... I hurt someone I loved once." he began. His fingers ran down your back, already in love with its curve, recalling how it felt to reach the end of that curve and pull your middle against his own.

"Yeah?"

He nodded.

"She was my first love. She- she was Lena's mom."

He knew this detail only made it all the worse, it only made him the man who took away Lena's mother, took her space in Lena's life and took on the responsibility to repent over it for the rest of their lives.

"Cath?" you asked, still hushed.

"Yeah. I ... I hurt her. Smurf told me to, so I did."

His voice broke towards the end, but he didn't let himself cry just yet. Your hands were still playing with his skin. Your body hadn't stiffened, your occasional pecks on his chest hadn't seized.

"Do you regret it?" you asked, pulling him closer, something incomprehensible to Andrew.

"Every day."

You were silent for a moment, silent and pensive, making Andrew's heart halt. His breath followed along, seizing its flow of oxygen as he waited for the other shoe to drop, waited to kiss this moment goodbye and part ways with the never ending comfort you gave him.

"I forgive you, Andrew." you mumbled after a minute.

He stayed silent. Silent as he rolled to his side, rolling you along with him and allowed you to take his head and burrow it in your chest. Your breasts cushioned his face, your heartbeat right against him and your hair shielding you both. He breathed deeply against you, shaky air leaving him as he exhaled.

"If you can't forgive yourself, I'll forgive you." you continued.

He sobbed then, sobbed into your chest, only whimpering louder when you pressed him even closer to you, shushing him with reassurances, crying with him when he thanked you, when he continued to beg for forgiveness, only to receive it every single time he asked.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew promised you honesty that night. He'd woken up again in the midst of the night, with you still in his arms, asleep, trusting of the protection you'd receive as he held you, and he promised himself he would never let anything get in between you.

And so when you woke up a few hours later, still too early to get up, Andrew kissed you. He hovered over you as he sheathed himself inside you once more, groaning at how perfectly you wrapped around him and how your nails raked down his back.

You sighed, cried, whined his name, eventually being quietened by his lips on yours, by his tongue in your mouth.

In between thrusts, he whimpered into your mouth, promising to keep you safe, to never let anything get between you, to entrust you with everything, but to keep you safe all the while.

So when he made his plan with Lena the following morning, he decided to share it with you, to let you in on it, to entrust you with his life regardless of any consequences.

"You're what?"

"I need- I need to make sure Lena's set. With Smurf gone, with Cath gone, she has no one. Baz sure as hell isn't thinking about her."

You were still in his room. He'd already talked to Baz, telling him he'd take Lena out for breakfast, when what he really meant to do was go check on the trust fund he'd set up for Lena. He'd go hit a few banks after that, some quick jobs that'd get her numbers as high as he could.

Understandably, you showed concern, eyes widening and hands pressed to his chest, shaking your head in denial.

"Andrew, there's better ways. What about last time? What if they get you again?"

He appreciated your concern, hands trailing down your arms and grabbing onto your hands, pressing one up to his nose, inhaling its scent, kissing the back of it.

"This is the life." he explained. "This is what I've been doing since I was a kid. This is how I've lived, how I'll die. If it's too much, I understand."

But you shook your head.

"No. If I can take it from Deran, I can take it from you. Just ... stay safe, okay? Come back home."

Some tears welled in your eyes, but not enough to cry for the fourth time in the past day.

When he came back again later that day, you ran to him, welcoming him in the driveway, a hug and a kiss being delivered to him immediately upon his arrival. He held you, kissing your hair and walking inside with you, telling you about how it all went, almost smiling as you commended him for taking care of his niece, for being the only person watching out for her, for being the father she'd never had with Baz.

"I'm gonna go see Smurf." he told you after a while. "Taking Lena with me, so she can say goodbye."

"You don't think she's getting out?"

He shook his head. "I'll make sure she doesn't."

Nodding pensively, you squeezed his hand.

"Wanna go meet her?"

He was joking. It was rare for him to do so, but he chuckled anyways when you pushed at his shoulder teasingly, telling him to shut up.

"You good spending the day with Lena today? Baz's gone. Don't know where he went."

"Yeah. 'Course."

-

You spent most of the day with Andrew and Lena, having to clean up after the boys now that Smurf was gone.

It was domestic, cooking with Andrew, cleaning up the kitchen, dropping off Lena and then picking her back up. When Deran walked into the kitchen and found you laughing with Andrew, with him shyly looking down any time you giggled, he gave you a look, tilting his head in curiosity but not questioning it further.

It wasn't til later, when Andrew dropped you off at the bar for your shift that he actually cornered you, Craig trailing behind him with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"So, Pope?"

Scoffing, you walked past him, heading to the back to drop off your bag. Unsurprisingly, both guys followed you, cornering you again.

"What about him?"

"What, you two dating now?"

"Nah, man, that shit this morning looked too domestic. They've probably eloped by now." Craig interrupted, amused by it all.

Deran ignored him. "When'd this happen?"

"It's been happening since you introduced us. Just, uh, made it official yesterday."

"What about that Amy girl?"

You eyed Craig. "What about her?"

He lifted his hands in surrender, using one hand to do the zipping motion over his lips. "Never mind, then."

"You good with this?" you turned to Deran, walking past him and heading back inside after putting your stuff in your locker. Again, they followed you, too nosy not to.

He leaned against the outside of the bar when you made your way to your usual station, furrowing his brows at you.

"He treating you good?"

"What, never seen Andrew with a girlfriend before?"

"Andrew~" Craig mocked, chuckling when you gave him the finger.

"No. Actually, no. You're the first. After Amy, of course."

You looked at him, annoyed.

"Sore subject?"

"Are you gonna be against this, Deran? We've practically exchanged vows. It's a set thing."

He frowned in contemplation, smiling after, knowing his smile would always bring one in you and then giving you one of those 'I told you so' looks. He knew you weren't mad at his prodding. It was that brotherly overprotection he'd had over you since he met you.

"I'm happy for you. If anyone'll treat you good out of all my brothers, it's Pope."

"I'm right here." Craig scoffed lightly, but you and Deran told him to shut up in unison.

-

Halfway through your workday, Andrew showed up, finding the three of you moving stuff to the back, with some temp bartender temporarily manning the fort. Craig lifted the heavy shit while you and Deran made order of it, stacking barrels of beer out of reach of the customers.

When you spotted Andrew, you skipped to him, childish in doing so, but in that honeymoon phase that made it so you couldn't hold back on the whimsy.

He pecked your lips, but he was distracted, looking at his brothers behind you after muttering a quiet 'sorry' to you.

"Have you heard from Baz?" he asked his brothers.

"What? Why?"

"Shit might be going down."

"What shit?" you asked, concerned, arms wrapped around his one arm and looking at him.

The brothers put aside the stuff they were doing, Craig sitting on one of the larger barrels and giving Pope his undivided attention and Deran looking to you with concern.

Andrew hesitated before speaking, looking to you before looking back to Deran.

"If something happens to me, will you look after Lena?"

Deran stood there, anxious look in his eyes. His eyes found yours, matching your concern, not answering Andrew's question just yet.

"Hey." he called his attention again. "I need an answer. If something happens to me, will you look after Lena? Yes or no?"

He took a step towards Deran, intense. You stood to his peripherical now, slightly behind him.

"Yeah, of course."

Craig remained quiet, halting his moves as he went to light a cigarette.

Andrew's head nodded towards you, eyes still on Deran. "What about her?" he said, referring to you.

"I'll always take care of her. You know that." Deran answered.

Andrew stepped forward again, hand patting Deran's shoulder in a silent thank you before walking his way back to where he entered from.

Without saying another word, you followed behind him, looking at the boys with worry and nodding back at Deran when he silently asked you to go check on his brother.

Rushing behind him, you caught Andrew before he could enter his truck, grabbing onto his arm and calling out his name.

"Andrew, what the hell is going on? Is this about the banks?"

He shook his head, intense eyes looking anywhere but at you. It looked like he wasn't fully there, like whatever was going on occupying his mind way too much for him to really acknowledge you.

"It's nothing, just- just gotta go talk to Baz."

That almost made you jump, remembering last night, when Andrew whispered his confession to you, crying in your arms when you'd accepted it, when you'd forgiven him for something you really had no business forgiving.

"Is it about-"

"Yeah." he interrupted, finally looking into your eyes.

It was about Cath.

Baz knew. You were certain of it. And you knew it was probably Smurf's doing.

Tensions were high, specially after that family meeting. You hadn't been in it, not deemed close enough to listen in on it, being made to wait outside with Nicky and Lucy as they talked about whatever was going on with Smurf, how she'd gotten arrested, why, and what they'd do now that she was gone.

You'd been happy about her absence, aware of the way she'd treated Deran growing up, what she'd done to all her sons, to Julia. Her treatment of Andrew was what made you the most furious, and you hadn't even heard the brunt of it all.

Andrew filled you in on it all afterwards, just before he drove you and Lena to breakfast and took off for his serial bank heists. He had told you about Baz's shady behavior, about the set up of Javi's death that had gotten Smurf framed for

He stepped towards you, pulling you in to kiss your hair, eyes deep and zeroing in on yours.

"If anything happens, I need you to take care of Lena, okay? With Deran."

Your eyes clouded with tears again, already forming and obstructing your vision of the man who appeared to be their cause time and time again. Shaking your head petulantly, you gripped at his hands, muttering 'no no no' over and over again, unwilling to accept this.

His shoulders slouched, bringing you closer to him. Nuzzling his way into the crook of your neck, he breathed you in, a habit you were getting used to.

"I'm sorry. I love you." he said into your skin, wincing against you when all those words caused were a choked sob.

"Can I come with you?" you whispered uselessly. You knew the answer.

He didn't reply, instead holding you in silence for a long while, taking up the space on the sidewalk but not caring to move when people walked by. Patting on your back, he consoled you (and himself), but you couldn't stop crying anyway.

"Come back to me, okay?" you asked when you pulled away.

All he could do was nod sadly, giving you one last kiss before getting into his car.

➽──────────────────❥

You hadn't been there for whatever it was that went down between Baz and Andrew. All you knew was that you went back into the bar, sobbing, a complete mess that both Deran and Craig had to take care of.

In the entire time Deran had known you, you'd never once cried in front of him. He always saw you as a hard egg to crack, sometimes reminding him of his brother in the way in which you could intimidate people with just one off-putting look. You reserved your emotions for friends, smiling, laughing, only when around those you loved. But crying? That had been new to Deran up until the point you met Pope.

But he understood. He was the same way about Adrian, so he didn't judge you when you walked back in, crying and refusing to tell him what was going on, instead pleading with him that you'd take care of Lena together if anything happened.

You calmed down after a while, going back to the Cody house after a very short shift (cut early since Deran was worried about you).

You waited in Andrew's room, not checking your phone, knowing he wouldn't call, that he was more the type to show up, to appear when you least expected it.

And again, you cried when he showed up again, tears welling his own eyes and chest heaving as he sobbed his way into his bedroom, finding you sitting on his bed waiting for him.

In between sobs, he explained the situation to you, mumbling something about his promise to stay honest to you, crying that he'd talked to Baz, had begged him to kill him, to take him out of his misery. He apologized to you when that caused you to cry his name. He continued, telling you about how Baz held him close, promised he'd always protect him, that he'd always forgive him because he knew none of this was his fault. That he knew he loved Cath, that he knew how much he loved him and Lena and how he'd take care of everything for him. He told him that he was his brother and that he'd protect him even after what he did, that he knew he now had you to take care of, that he wasn't going to let Smurf poison the waters between them.

When he calmed down, you continued to hold him, thanking Baz in your head, making a mental note to do so in person next time you saw him.

Maybe you'd read him wrong. Maybe he was the brother who cared most about your Andrew.

"You never do that to me again, do you understand?" you scolded Andrew after a while, hushed, not meant to put him down, but to express the fury that came hand in hand for the fear for his safety.

He sat up from his spot on your lap, grabbing your wrist and bringing you closer.

"I won't." he promised, but you both knew it was a lie.

"Thank you. For taking care of me." he said after some silence, foreheads pressed against each other, breaths shared.

"I always will. I love you."

He didn't respond verbally, but by kissing you again, by sighing into your mouth when you responded with no hesitation.

The two of you became enraptured in each other again, locking lips and letting your hands wander. Tears were still drying on your cheeks, but still, you pulled him closer, moaning when his hands trailed to the back of your thighs, effortlessly lifting you and wrapping you around his waist before he laid you back down on the bed.

Undressing each other came naturally by now, not requiring much practice. And every freed inch of skin meant yet another inch for Andrew to explore, fingers scratching at the soft skin, digging his fingers in, lips itching to kiss that same skin, but being too overtaken by your mouth.

He fucked you then. It started soft, full of worry, more passionate than he'd ever felt before. But his need for you took over after the third sigh of his name against his ear. He hovered over you, grabbing your legs and holding them up, open for him as he knelt on the bed and fucked into you.

Again and again, he told you he loved you in between grunts. It was unusual for him to be this expressive, to speak this much, but having you there for him, waiting, worrying for him and letting him do as he wished with you as soon as his eyes laid on you, it made him malfunction, made him let go in a way he'd never been allowed to before.

"Thank you for coming home." you sighed as you came, dragging him straight down with you.

"I always will." he repeated your earlier words, arm extended out so you could cuddle yourself under it.

Andrew felt at ease while he laid there with you.

Smurf was in jail, the Cath thing was out of the bag, he still wasn't sure if he could trust J, wasn't sure what would happen with Lena now that Baz was supposed to leave town. But at that moment, he laid with you there, sure of one thing — you were his to keep.

The following day he'd find out about what happened to Baz, a brand new can of worms breaking into the very short moment of peace he had while he had you in his arms. The next day, he'd have to go back to dealing with Smurf, to figure out how to take care of Lena, but at least now he had someone to carry some of the brunt with him.

Chapter Text

"You want a sandwich or something? I can make you breakfast."

You didn't dignify that with a response, instead humming as you rolled on your side, snuggling into Andrew's bare chest and kissing the skin mindlessly. A strong arm remained wrapped around you as he laid face up, fingers tracing down your back.

"Still tired?"

"You kept me up all night." you teased. "Not complaining, but I need at least another hour."

Andrew leaned to the side of the bed, checking the clock on the bedside table to confirm the time. "It's 6. We got til 7 til we gotta get up and get Lena to school. I think Baz and Lucy just left her here last night."

"Assholes." you said, referring to Baz and his girlfriend. "But he gets a pass for getting my Andrew back home to me."

He twitched at that. Your Andrew. Those weren't words he'd ever heard paired together. He couldn't bring himself to acknowledge them either, knowing he'd probably say something stupid or mess up and make it so you never said them again. And he wanted you to say it again, wanted it to be a fact of life. Because he was your Andrew. The events of the past few days only confirmed it.

"I'll get up." you groaned, earning a matching groan from him when you left his arms, beginning the trek to get up.

When you stood up from the bed, stretching, making noises that confused Andrew's body, he looked to you, taking in the sight of your nude body as you got up to pick up his clothes that he'd given you off the bedroom floor. Meanwhile, he admired you, shifting on his side to get a better view of you, feeling a little perverted, but encouraged to keep staring when you smiled teasingly at him, making a show of walking around to purposely rile him up.

"Gonna shower before we go drop Lena off at school. I'll take some clothes from your closet til I can go back to Deran's to change."

He sat up, hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and nodding.

"Yeah, okay. I'll, uh, I'll go make us some breakfast."

But you walked back to him, rerouting from your path to the restroom and pulling at his arm as he sat against the bedframe.

"Or," you dragged the consonant. "you could take a shower with me. Saves water and all."

You took a few steps back, his hand still on yours, lightly pulling him closer to getting up.

"That's ... that could be dangerous."

"I live life on the edge." you joked, forcing a small chuckle out of him, you giggling along.

In the end, he could never say no to you. Specially not as he saw you standing there, naked, looking to him with a teasing glint in your eyes, lower lip trapped by your frontal teeth. And so he stood up, sheets falling off his body and leaving him just as nude as you.

As he warmed up the water for you, you brushed your teeth, shameless as you eyed his backside through the mirror and winking at him when he caught your eyes on him. He looked down, blinking hard a few times before joining you in brushing your teeth.

Finished, you made your way to the shower, opening and closing the clear glass door as you allowed the steamy water to dampen your skin, arching your back as it rained down all over you and giving Andrew what felt like a life-ruining view from the mirror.

He spit out his toothpaste, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and marching to the shower, harshly opening the door and slamming it shut before cornering you against the shower wall, welcomed immediately by your arms and by your tongue, which wrapped around his within half a second of his mouth being on yours.

Greedy hands rubbed at your skin, antsy and frustrated first thing in the morning. One hand wrapped around your thigh, wrapping it around his waist while the other held onto your hip, making sure you had a good foundation and wouldn't slip on the wet floor.

This was the fourth time within the past 48 hours in which Andrew had had you naked and at his mercy, hard dick weeping at a chance to find a home inside you. But he'd quickly learned that he just couldn't help himself around you. Just one look from you, one tilt of your head or one bite of your lip and his fingers burned to be on you, to mead the skin of your hips, grip your thighs and fold you in whichever way necessary to make space for himself inside you.

He continued kissing you, hips rolling against your own, killing his own sanity as he ground into you, hardness pressing onto your weeping cunt, creating a friction that had you gasping his name into his lips. The stream of water made it so he could enjoy your sounds without worrying that J and Nicky would hear you from the other room attached to the bathroom.

"Please, Andrew." you licked his lips, nibbling at the bottom one, dragging a grunt out of him. "Want you to fuck me. Please?"

"I will." he promised, tongue trailing down your jaw, moving onto the water droplets on your neck. "Just give me a second."

You let him have his fun, let him suck hickeys all over your chest, bite you to the point he almost drew blood. You let him scratch at your skin, leaving red marks on your legs and hips as his hips began losing control during the torturous grind he'd set. You let him have anything he wanted, rewarding him with sighs of his name, with hands playing with his hair, with your hips matching his rhythm.

"Turn around." he said after he'd had his fill, strong hands already working you to face away from him before you could do it yourself. "I want you like this."

A whine left you, as if him wanting you was something you just couldn't handle. He still couldn't understand that reaction, couldn't understand why you wanted him as much as he did you (and he still wasn't convinced that was really possible). But he pushed those thoughts aside, grabbing onto his dick and pressing into your opening, sighing your name when you arched your back, pushing your hips back, showing him how much you wanted him.

"Oh, god, Andrew ..." you cried, and Andrew wished he could see the look on your face now, could see your eyes rolling back in the way he'd gotten to witness a few times already just mere hours ago.

"I know." he grunted, forehead digging through your hair and landing on your shoulder, heavy breath landing against your skin.

He began hammering into you then, groaning as you'd push back against him.

Without meaning to, he lost himself in it, pushing you harder against the glass, making your hands fall off the glass and lay to your sides, your breasts now pressed up against it and his thrusts making it vibrate with the intensity in which he fucked into you. His grunts and your whines filled up the room, overpowering the stream of the shower hitting the floor.

Cries of his name left your lips, growing louder by the second. His eyes rolled back at the sound, at the feel of you squeezing around him, begging he keep going, begging he fill you up and mark you as his again and again.

"Is it good? Huh? Tell me." he huffed out.

"S-so good, Andrew." you moaned. "Don't stop. Fuck, don't stop. I need- need you to- Oh, oh fuck, Andrew."

He groaned one last time, letting go, releasing in you for the nth time since you'd first let him get his hands on you. A broken cry left him, head burying in your shoulder and biting there again.

Desperately, his hand rounded your body, index and middle fingers reaching between your legs and finding your clit, circling it harshly in eight's so he could get you there with him.

And when you came, you cried his name again, fogging the glass in front of you, smearing it with drool and purring when he gasped at the way in which you squeezed him as you came.

It took a few moments for the two of you to catch your breaths, but Andrew immediately turned you back around, chest still contracting and relaxing deeply as he leaned into you and kissed your forehead, mumbling soft words to you.

"Wasted a lot of water there, huh?"

"Yeah." he chuckled. "Bad for the environment."

"But good for me." you rebutted, reaching behind him to grab his shampoo. "Can I use this? Wanna smell like you."

You said it so casually, making him swallow before he nodded. He stepped aside, giving you some space to rummage through his things in the shower, which you did freely. Grabbing the things you were going to use, you turned back to him with a grin.

"C'mon, turn around. I'm gonna wash your hair first."

"You don't have to do that-"

You shook your head, petulant. "I've been itching to get my hands on those curls. Please?" you dragged the 'e', batting your lashes at him and giggling when he nodded reluctantly.

The two of you spent about half an hour in there, washing each other's hair, gathering suds of soap on each others bodies and sharing a few kisses in between.

Your fingers on his hair had him in heaven. The occasional kiss landed on his back, on his shoulders, making his eyes flutter shut due to the softness behind your every touch. He almost felt himself falling asleep as he stood there, taking your every affectionate caress and purring when you started humming some tune, filling up the otherwise silent bathroom.

By 7:08, the two of you were ready to start the day, with you heading over to wake Lena while Andrew made a quick breakfast for the two of you, being talked into making some extra for his brother when you walked in and kissed his cheek, taking pity on a hungover Deran lounging nearby.

➽──────────────────❥

As it usually went in Andrew's life, things couldn't stay as serene as they'd been that morning for long.

He had a true first taste of what a domestic life would feel like. He'd woken up with the love of his life in his arms, being kissed and touched as you practically begged him to fuck you. He'd made breakfast for his family, having you jokingly feed him a pastry and kissing the smeared jelly off his lip. He'd driven Lena to school, with you on the passenger seat while he listened to the two of you talk, giggling with each other.

And then he'd arrived home, opening your door and leading you off the car reluctantly as he spotted the police officers waiting for the two of you there.

At first he'd believed it was some benign issue. Maybe last night's party had gotten too loud. Maybe a neighbor had complained.

But it wasn't that.

Baz was dead.

His voice shook as he asked for confirmation, his body trembling and only finding fortitude when your hand reached out to him, holding onto his arm as the officers spoke to you, offering some silent support as you also took in the news.

Andrew wanted to break down, wanted to scream, break something, take his anger out on the messengers, to make matters even worse by losing his mind. But you provided an anchor for him, worried eyes and frowny lips showing him your concern, but not voicing it, giving him space to feel everything he needed to feel without attempting to deter his emotions.

With you, he rushed to wake Nicky up, being perhaps meaner than he needed to be as he dragged her along with the two of you into his truck and went to look for J, asking you to call Deran and Craig as he drove J back to the house for a family meeting.

"How?" Deran asked, distraught.

You all gathered together in the living room, with the exception of Craig, who had run off to Mexico with Renn sometime the previous night.

"Cops only said he'd been ... he'd been shot."

"By who?"

"They didn't say."

"You didn't ask?" Deran raised his voice, though you knew it was out of sadness rather than frustration.

"Of course I asked!" Andrew yelled.

"Baz is dead?" Nicky whispered, shocked, sad.

"Where's Craig?" Andrew had been kept out of the loop.

"He took off last night with some money and the Scout."

"You try calling him?" Andrew paced around the room, not knowing where to look, where to stop.

"Yeah. He's on his way to Mexico. Probably doesn't have any service."

J interrupted. "Did he leave around the same time Baz got shot?"

This caused both Andrew and Deran to halt, avert their eyes and look to J with disdain in them.

"What's that supposed to mean, J?" you could hear the grit in Deran's voice.

"He didn't mean it like that." you finally interjected, getting up from the couch and stepping towards Andrew, holding his hand wordlessly.

"Yeah, well."

"You need to find Craig. They could be looking for him too." Andrew warned, hand squeezing yours.

"Who's coming for Craig?" Nicky's tone was worried, exasperated.

"Smurf is in jail for killing Javi, sweetie. You don't think his crew's gonna have something to say about that?"

The room fell silent at Andrew's cold intonation, everyone growing more worried by the second. The silence was sharp, bitter, making your heart race and the feeling of dread gnaw at you.

"What about Lucy?" Deran wondered out loud.

Andrew ignored him, looking down on him from his spot sitting on the couch. "Find Craig now."

Later in the day, all the brothers were called down to the police's station, the requirement of individual interviews coming up due to the nature of Baz's death. You remained quiet through it all, not knowing how to comfort Andrew, feeling inadequate at Deran's icy glare.

It was a strange feeling, feeling so out of place as the two men mourned their brother, as J shared your inadequacy, never having been too close to Baz. They discussed theories of Baz's death in front of you, clashing with each other about what to do with Smurf, how to get revenge from whoever killed Baz, who'd take care of Lena.

But looking at Andrew, you knew that in the end all these burdens would likely fall on him. You knew that no matter how much you cared for your friend Deran, how much you'd grown to respect J, that Andrew carried a big weight as the eldest brother. In your eyes you could see his worries, sharing his dread for what was to come next in Lena's life.

You gave him space, not wanting to be too much for him at that moment. While Andrew planned his next move, you went to Deran, hugging him, kissing his cheek, caressing his hair and silently crying at your friend's sadness. He'd told you to do the same for Pope. That he'd need it once he fully processed what happened.

When Andrew asked you to stay home with Nicky while he and his brothers went to give their statements, as he went to tail J as he visited Smurf, you agreed, not many words exchanged between you.

He was acting cold, detached. It made you feel out of place, gave you whiplash from how affectionate he'd been just a few hours prior. But you understood. You held your ground, kissing his cheek, hugging him and telling him you were sorry for his loss, that you were there for whatever he needed.

And when it came to be the afternoon and Andrew came home from picking up Lena, you found yourself agreeing at his request that you move in with him to Baz's apartment. Something about Lena wanting to stay there, liking her home and him wanting to give her that stability now that both her parents were gone.

He'd been shy about it, easy to read in how he was beating himself up about it, likely thinking himself an inconvenience.

"I ... I know it's soon." he started. "I know we've only been together for- not for long." but then he corrected himself. "I don't even know if we're together-"

You interrupted, grabbing his hand. "Hey." he looked to you then. "We're together. And I'll go. I'll tell Deran I'm moving out and I'll go stay with you and Lena."

Andrew swallowed, looking down.

"Are you sure? If it's too much, I understand."

Shaking your head, you smiled at him again, light, small. "It's not too much. We'll do this together, okay?"

He kissed you then, for the first time since you'd left the bathroom together that morning. He sighed against your lips, letting himself get a little more carried away than he'd hoped before forcing himself to pull away.

"I love you." was the last thing he said before grabbing your hand and leading you to his car.

➽──────────────────❥

Six months passed since Baz's death.

Six months since you and Andrew took up the responsibility of raising Lena yourselves.

Six months since you'd been holed up in Baz's old apartment, playing the domestic game of a family together as you tried to keep Lena afloat.

Six months since Andrew had been dealing with his grief, trying and failing to find out who'd killed his brother.

The two of you struggled to keep Lena from wallowing in her grief, something she was still too young to really understand. Getting bullied at school over her family's reputation, she stayed up all night, didn't eat, refused to go to school. And you took on the responsibility of being there for her, becoming the closest thing to a maternal figure and as much of a friend to her as you could be.

After getting her into a private school, Andrew would begin disappearing during the days, spending a few hours parked outside as he waited for her day to finish, the rest being used up in investigating Baz's murder.

The domestic bliss was dystopian at times, not what you'd pictured, and Andrew could tell. Yet he couldn't help himself in becoming obsessive with every issue that began to arise. Smurf still didn't know about you, which was the only silver lining in his life.

Things began to look up after Lena settled into her private school, somewhere around the same time Craig came back from Mexico and J started lining up new jobs for them. Things were still muddled, with too many issues left to fix for Andrew to count, but as he came back home with well-earned money in his pocket, finding you with his shirt on and cooking dinner for him, he couldn't help but see the good in life.

In the past six months of living together, Andrew became a little better at physical affection. He was still a little awkward, not knowing when it was acceptable for him to touch you (always) or how it was acceptable to touch you (in any way), but you'd always smile at him, eyes wrinkling in amusement at how he'd fumble even after all this time.

He approached you from behind, mumbling a low 'hey' as he pondered whether or not to do that things couples did where the guy would come up behind the girl as she cooked, wrap his arms around her and press up against her. It seemed domestic, like the type of thing he'd be expected to do (and the type of thing he craved to do), but he faltered halfway, instead reclining against the counter.

But you weren't like him.

Instead of taking a simple 'hey' and welcoming him home with one in return, you turned down the heat of the burners, turning around and meeting him where he stood, placing your arms on his shoulders before sneaking them back to the back of his head, finding the curls there and tugging at them softly. You leaned up for a kiss, humming when he tried to pull away and licking his lip for an entrance.

"Missed you today." you mumbled between kisses, sighing when he finally let his guard down and laid his hands on your waist, light hold as if he was already pushing it.

Your hands moved his own down to your ass, chuckling when he grunted at it, mumbling that he'd missed you too, but barely able to get the words out between kisses.

"Job go well?"

He nodded. "Yeah. J came up with a good one today."

"That's good. You look like you're in a good mood."

"I wasn't, actually. The guys are still fighting. But I feel better now."

You smiled, biting your lip. "What, cause you came home to me?"

"Yeah."

You kissed him again, a little harder now, purposely moaning into his mouth just to get a reaction out of him and succeeding when his fingers flexed, squeezing at the meat of your ass. Pulling him closer, you arched into him, licking his mouth and murmuring his name when his tongue sucked on yours, creating a squelching sound that had your legs pressing together.

"Let me ... let me take you to our room." he interrupted, mumbling a couple of words in between kisses, unable to fully separate from you.

"What if I want it here?"

You were teasing. You knew of Andrew's aversion to disorder, well aware that fucking in the kitchen was something he just could not bring himself to do. It was something that'd be deeply uncomfortable for him, but he knew you were teasing, knew you liked to rile him up a little, to get things going by making him fight with himself before he could truly have you.

"It's dirty. Sex shouldn't be had in the kitchen."

One last kiss was delivered to his lips, with one following in tandem on his nose, and one on his chin.

"Then take me to bed, handsome."

With minimal effort, he lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he took a few steps towards the stove and turned off the burner before dragging you along to your shared bedroom. There, he laid you down at the edge of the bed, not hovering over you as per usual, but instead kneeling on the floor, looking up at you with hooded eyes, with his chest heaving as he struggled to control himself.

It never took long for you to break him down into this state, into a mindless mess that sought out your body like a lifeline. One look, one touch, was all he needed to lose himself and seek pleasure from your body like his life depended on it. And everything about you gave him pleasure. He could bury himself between your legs for hours, meet his completion inside his boxers as he rocked his hips into the mattress while you cried his name. He could hammer into you with endless need, reach his end as you dragged your nails down his back. Or sometimes he could lay back, falling victim to your seduction, to the breathy whispers against his ear begging that he let you take him in your mouth, arguing against all his refusals (refusals born out of low self esteem, out of feeling like he didn't deserve that sort of self-serving pleasure) and whimper your name as you toyed at him for hours on end, only letting him cum after tears dampened his cheeks.

Even as he'd grown used to the carnal bliss you gave him time and time again, Andrew could never handle how you made him feel. Even now as he knelt before you, hard and bursting through his pants while he stared up at your bare thighs, — your shirt having already been thrown off as he reminisced of every time you'd filled these walls with cries of each other's names — he groaned as he lowered his lips down to your foot, one hand holding onto your foot and holding your ankle up to his mouth.

You were sitting up, looking down at him with a lustful heaviness in your eyes. You inhaled deeply when he began kissing up the length of your legs, sucking hickeys all throughout it, not caring about the atypical spots in which he was leaving marks (next to your ankle, your calves, your thighs). He got off in knowing he could have you losing your breath with kisses in non-erogenous zones, losing his own at every sigh that left your lips, silently begging for more.

"You've been so patient with me." he whispered between kisses to your thighs. "You've put up with too much." every few words were punctured with a kiss, a suck, a lick.

His hands gripped your legs, sitting up on his knees and lips reaching your panties while your eyes fluttered.

"You're everything to me." he kissed your cunt then, tongue sneaking out and licking at your clit through the lace of your panties.

"You're everything." you whined, brain already empty as you corrected him.

Andrew groaned, burying his head in your cunt, licking harshly at you despite the fabric and rubbing his nose against your clit. It took him a while to grow desperate enough to lick you raw, ripping off your underwear carelessly, breathing you in deeply when he finally had your cunt right in front of him.

His hands reached up, grabbing your hips and scooting you over closer, looking up at you as he licked, eyes begging silently, hoping you understood what he wanted.

And you did. You needed no words to understand Andrew, just as you always had.

Your grip on his hair tightened as your hips gyrated against his face, practically riding his tongue. This provided Andrew with the prettiest view, with your mouth agape and your eyes rolled back, a hand on his hair and the other rubbing at your nipple. Andrew whimpered against you, cried your name despite knowing it'd get muffled by your cunt.

"Oh, f-fuck, Andrew ... That's it, that's so- Oh ..."

Cries of his name filled up the room, and then he lost his mind. He gripped at your hips again, sitting up straighter and pushing you to lie back on the bed, head now hovering over your cunt as he tongued at it with a complete lack of finesse. He shook his head back and forth, licked in patterns, out of patterns, rubbed your clit, lined your entrance, he did everything that his lust-filled heart wished to at that moment, stealing an orgasm from you without bothering to stop.

"Andrew, baby, that's- that's enough. I can't-"

"Please." he mumbled, almost inaudible.

And he was taking advantage, really.

He knew by now that you had a hard time saying no to him. It was rare for him to use this privilege, to even ask for something from you, but he couldn't help himself in this moment.

You'd been the first light in his life ever since Julia had been taken away from him, ever since Cath's rejection really dawned on him and he'd been made to get rid of her. You were the only person he'd ever loved like this, the only thing he needed to exist. He'd grown to a point where he knew that he could take anything coming his way as long as he had you, the one and only person who looked forward to seeing him, who kissed him goodnight and couldn't fall asleep unless he laid beside you.

At some point during his internal monologue, he'd began humping the bed, aggressively pressing his hardness against it as his hands gripped you with a bruising capacity. He was groaning into your cunt, creating a mess of your juices and his saliva while you screamed his name above him.

You couldn't speak anymore. No words left you, making Andrew lightheaded at realizing that his name was the one and only thing you remembered while in complete delirium.

When you came a second time, he followed right behind you, almost biting at you at the sudden burst of pleasure, the liquid squirting inside his pants and making him grunt at the feeling. But it was really the last thing on his mind. It wasn't something he could concern himself with at the moment because, see, Andrew could be pretty one-track minded sometimes, and right now you were the only thing on his mind.

He crawled up to you, well aware by now of how touchy you'd get after orgasming, finding you already stretching your arms towards him and making grabby hands while you attempted to catch your breath.

"C'mere, Andrew. Wanna taste."

He landed on you, mouth first and tongue ready to be received by yours. Even with his aversion to germs, he couldn't find it in himself to mind the mixture of fluids being exchanged by you at that moment. Instead of feeling antsy, his eyes rolled back as you suckled shamelessly at his tongue, moan vibrating against him when you caught a taste of yourself.

"Go change your pants, handsome. I know you're probably itching at the feeling."

"Sorry." he gave you a light smile. "I wanted to do it with you, just-"

"Don't apologize. It was hot." you bit his lip one last time before getting up with him, guiding him to the bathroom with a silent promise to help him wash up.

➽──────────────────❥

The following day hadn't gone as well for Andrew.

He'd had his usual routine, one that you'd grown used to sharing with him, tending to it every morning with little variation in between.

Andrew knew he had some issues, that he was unlike others when it came to order. He knew he could be hard to deal with, just a little too intense when it came to the simpler things.

But you'd never once expressed any dislike towards any of his habits. You'd never questioned him for anything other than clarification, wondering why he liked his sandwiches made a specific way and copying his method next time around, joining him when he folded his clothes and asking him to teach you his method, allowing him to make the bed every morning to his liking, giving him a kiss on the cheek accompanied by a 'thank you' for taking on the task every time.

And today, he'd done the same thing, receiving his kiss and heading out with you and Lena, dropping her off at school before leaving you at Deran's bar and heading his own way for some other job orchestrated by J.

The job went as well as most others, with very minimal issues and a large sum of money acquired by the end. And as per usual, they'd all decided to head back to the house for a celebratory meal, one which you'd offered to cook since Smurf was now gone from the house.

But before Andrew could walk inside, bask in the fact that he had a girl that was crazy about him waiting for him and his brothers with food on the table, he was met with an unknown car parked in the driveway.

The person that stepped out of it was Billy.

Billy, as in Deran's deadbeat dad.

Immediately, Andrew grew angry, yelling at him to get the hell out of his property, practically threatening his life in the process.

None of his brothers had any idea who he was, having been too young to recognize his face from the incredibly short amount of time he'd been around. This meant that Andrew was the only person present who was aware of Billy's heinous behavior while he was just a kid. He was the only one who knew of the endless times in which Smurf had to kick him out, of the shady men he brought around that caused trouble for Julia, of the time in which he'd locked him in a closet for three days.

But even with his anger and insistence he be kicked to the curve, his brothers were reluctant, Deran too curious about his dad and Craig just bored and nosy. J was indifferent, and you were angry along with Andrew as soon as you'd caught wind of the way he'd treated your boyfriend when he was a kid.

Sadly, it was three votes against two, meaning Billy did stick around for longer than Andrew would've liked. Him, and his companion Frankie, who Craig had gained interest on upon laying eyes on her.

Things only got worse for Andrew as DCFS started to snoop around Lena's life, questioning her, raiding your shared home, making thinly-veiled threats of taking her away. All while Deran made plans for a job with Billy, a job that required an extra man, meaning that Deran was eyeing you for the task, creating even more tension in Andrew's life.

That's how you found yourself driving a truck of cargo for them a few days later, agreeing to participate as long as you didn't have to do anything overtly illegal. Andrew was still bothered by it all, but your presence helped him despite the general worry of things going wrong and implicating you with their crimes.

You were driving contraband — as in hollow basinets in which Deran and J would hide, waiting for you to deliver them onto a cargo plane that would then take them to their final destination. After you finished your part, Andrew picked you up on his truck, driving Billy and Craig along as you all headed towards the final meeting point in the middle of the desert.

You sat in the back, diagonal to Andrew as he drove, next to Billy and behind Craig.

"You do any funny shit and I'll kill you." Andrew had warned Billy as soon as he saw him eyeing you, bothered you'd be sitting in the back with him, but knowing Craig was more needed at the front, more experienced.

"Damn, Pope. This your girl? Didn't think you had it in you."

All you could do was ignore him, look out the window and try not to laugh when Billy had reached to the front to turn on some music, only to have his hand slapped away by Andrew, being threatened with getting thrown off the car if he tried again.

At some point you parked, getting out of the car with Andrew as you waited, attempting to calm him as he argued with Billy about benign things, some of which grew more serious as they both irritated one another further.

"Remember the time you lit a fire in the RV?" Billy chuckled, wiping his sunglasses as he paced around in boredom.

"Oh, I remember a lot of things, man. A lot of things."

Billy groaned, as if already fed up of Andrew. "Jesus Christ, like what?"

"Like the time you locked me in a closet and you went to score and you forgot about me for three days?"

You interrupted, scoffing at Billy. "What the fuck? Why would you do that to a kid?"

Andrew shook his head in disbelief, annoyed to relive it.

"Okay, first of all, that never happened." Billy started. "It was a day and a half. But I was a kid, what'd you want me to do?" he continued to pace around while you and Andrew leaned back against the car, Craig napping inside it.

"I was the kid. You were ... You were an adult. You were ... You were 25." Andrew grew exasperated, likely the outcome Billy wanted.

"Yeah, well, technically, the male brain doesn't mature until age 26, okay? So we were both kids."

"I guess you haven't gotten there yet, have you Billy?" you interjected, rolling your eyes at him.

Before he could respond, you grabbed Andrew's hand, taking him away from what was clearly an stressor for him and guiding him to the car with you. Billy continued complaining outside, only getting back into the car to ask Craig if he had some oxy or some blow to kill the time.

Your wait lasted longer than expected, with J calling you guys up and telling you their side of the plan had a detour, that they'd landed at the wrong spot and needed you guys to drive all the way over there, round the mountain past over 60 miles and pick them up from there.

Annoyed at having to share the car with Billy for longer than expected, you bit your tongue, hoping Billy would do the same and leave Andrew alone.

But his silence lasted mere seconds, with him insisting he needed a stop, that he needed to score, or maybe make a pit stop so he could have a few minutes with a hooker to take the edge off. Through the whole ordeal, he and Andrew argued, with Craig annoyingly taking Billy's side in wanting to stop for a piss, or to join Billy in scoring some drugs.

"Yeah, right, he doesn't mind if you piss your pants." Billy started once again when Andrew refused to pull over. "Cause he was in diapers till he was 6." he cackled, enjoying the humiliation he was dawning on Andrew. "God, I remember that like it was yesterday. The doctor said he was regressing."

You could see Andrew's form still from the rearview mirror, posture erect and eyes looking down, likely avoiding meeting anyone's through the reflection. And then Billy continued.

"Personally ... I think it was cause he liked the feeling of Smurf's hands between his legs."

That's when you tensed. You side-eyed Billy, not daring look to him directly, but still eyeing him with anger from your peripheral vision. You felt bile forming in your liver traveling all the way your esophagus and burning at you to burst, felt yourself start to fume at Billy's insistence in humiliating Andrew. Beneath you, your fingers graced at the knife Deran had given you before you'd departed from home, telling you he didn't want you carrying a firearm just yet, but insistent you keep at least one concealed weapon just in case.

You didn't feel anything as you considered your options, anger taking over while you looked to Andrew, taking note of the tight grip he had on the steering wheel. Craig laughing along didn't help matters.

It was when Andrew's embarrassed eyes found yours in the rearview mirror that you really felt like you were about to blow up. He looked away immediately, the car's path wavering slightly, a clear indication that what Billy was saying was getting to his head.

Billy nudged your shoulder with his, urging you to join in on the laughter. "I'm serious. I can't tell you how many times I was banging their mom and we'd feel like somebody was watching us. We'd look up and there'd be Pope. Little Pope just staring at us without even blink- Argh, fuck!"

You couldn't really explain what came over you as you did it, but before you could even consider it, you'd already pulled out the knife from it's hidden spot under the leg of your jeans, bringing it up swiftly and cutting a straight, vertical line down Billy's thigh, deep enough to cut his pants and draw blood out of it — Hell, deep enough it was likely to require stitches.

At that same moment, Andrew swerved the car, coming to an abrupt halt as you all held onto yourselves to not slam your heads against the car seats due to the rapid and sudden movement.

"What the fuck was that, you crazy bitch?" Billy hissed, hands coming to his thigh and pressing on the blood there.

You didn't respond, ripping off your seatbelt and stepping out of the car, your door slamming in the process. Andrew did the same, though instead of rounding the car as you had, he went straight to Billy's seat, pulling the door open and fisting at his shirt, dragging him out before slamming him against the side of the truck. You were standing beside him within seconds, knife still in hand.

"Woah woah, everybody calm down!" Craig said from his seat, peeking back to look at the commotion but not getting off the car.

"Talk to her like that again. I dare you." Andrew huffed, almost nose to nose with Billy.

"You control your bitch. Do you see what she did to me? What, am I not supposed to defend myself when your psycho bitch goes after me like- God, Fuck!"

A punch landed straight to Billy's abdomen, interrupting the spit-filled sermon he'd been delivering. He keeled over, but was immediately slammed back against the car by Andrew.

"Do it. Beat my ass, Billy." you dared him. "Deran will kill you. He'd run you over like roadkill before he let you touch a hair on my head." you looked to him with disdain. "That's if Andrew doesn't do it first."

"You cunt-"

"Yeah, I wouldn't say that if I were you." could be heard from Craig from his spot inside the car.

No more words were exchanged as Andrew's fingers tightened back up around the bunched fabric of Billy's collar, dragging him and pushing him with enough strength he tripped and fell on the sandy field of the desert. Quickly, he led you back to your seat, pushing Billy down once more when he tried to get up and proceeding to get back to the driver's seat, driving away as he ignored the expletives yelled out by Billy as he created distance between you.

When you arrived to the meeting spot, you found J and Deran being dropped off by some unknown woman, questioning her presence until being told to shut up by the latter and letting the two boys into the car.

"Where's Billy?" Deran asked as soon as he settled in beside you, with J to the other side of you.

"He was being an asshole so Pope threw him out." Craig explained.

"Are you kidding me?" Deran looked to you. "We can't do that, man."

You shrugged. "He called me a cunt. I'd say he got off easy."

"Wait, what?"

"Yeah, after you stabbed him." Craig chuckled.

Deran's eyebrows furrowed, "You what?"

"I didn't stab him, I cut him-"

"We have to go!"

"This is bullshit, we gotta go back for him. This is his job!"

You all spoke over each other, with Andrew interrupting in a low tone, "I told you the cops were onto us. Are you out of your mind?"

"Alright." J gave the final word. "It's fine, let's just go."

Deran sat back, clearly angry at the situation, eyes throwing daggers at the back of Andrew's head until you punched his leg, huffing at him.

It was uncharacteristic of you to act the way you had, and you knew that. But Billy was bad news. Not only was he bad news to Andrew, bringing back painful memories and unnecessarily going out of his way to put him down, but you also knew that on the long run, he'd be bad news to Deran too. He was just too blind to see that, with his mother now in jail and an unspoken want to get to know his father.

Getting back home, you made a stop at a storage unit, unbagging all the cargo from today, the near $1 million dollars the guys had scored on the job. The mood quickly lifted as the guys unloaded stack upon stack of cash from the bags.

"That's a good haul." Andrew praised, receiving a squeeze of his arm from you in silent congratulations.

"Hell yeah, that's a good haul."

"It's almost a million dollars!"

"It's almost 158 grand each." J calculated.

"No, it's 130 each. We're six, remember?" Andrew corrected, gesturing over to you.

You could see both J and Craig faltered at that, looking to each other with a hesitant look.

"Uhm, nah, it's 158 each. I'm not taking anything." you corrected, drawing all four pairs of eyes on you.

"What are you talking about? You helped, you deserve your share." Deran interjected.

You shook your head, eyeing the large stack of money, but not caring much for it otherwise.

"I only did this for Andrew. And, well, for you. I don't want any money."

They stayed silent for a second, looking to each other silently before J nodded, prompting the same response from Craig and Deran. Andrew remained pensive, a sort of frustrated look on his face.

"Listen, this will take a while to clean, so, how about we start with 9 grand cash each?" J suggested. "Here, at least take the 9 grand." he handed everyone a small stack, including you.

Taking it, you weighed it on your hand. It looked very small, comprised of 100 dollar bills, appearing to be less than what you'd expect that amount of cash to be.

You shook your head again, throwing it back onto the larger stack in the middle. "Give my 9k to Lena. I'm sure you guys must have some trust fund for her or something." you knew Andrew did, but you didn't want to be obvious in case the guys weren't aware. "Her parents are gone, you should put this aside for her."

Andrew cleared his throat, taking a quiet step closer to your side, hand silent as it reached yours, thumb running over the back of your palm. It was subtle, unnoticed by the guys as they each put away their money.

"She's right. She's family." Andrew reminded them.

They all looked uncomfortable by the implication, knowing this would create a pattern of cutting an extra share for Lena, but none of them said anything. You made a mental note to talk to Deran about it later.

-

After dropping you and Deran off at the bar, Andrew kissed you goodbye, heading back to the Cody house with the other boys. You didn't really like staying there, considering it enemy territory, still unwilling to be associated with Smurf in any way even during her absence. Andrew understood.

You hung around the bar for a while, until you spotted Deran walking to the back with Billy, who had somehow made it back to civilization after you'd left him stranded back at the desert.

As you walked into the kitchen of the bar, you heard their conversation, not caring to eavesdrop and instead just walking in.

"—a little piece of, you know, fatherly advice. You guys shouldn't do any more stuff with Pope, dude. He's- he's crazier than he's ever been, dude. He's gonna get you guys killed."

You rolled your eyes, making your steps louder so he'd hear you coming.

"How's the leg, Billy?"

He groaned to Deran when he saw you walk in.

"Or this psycho. Did she tell you what she did to me? This crazy bitch and her boyfriend?"

Deran sighed, frustrated, not really caring about the gash on Billy's thigh he'd spotted when he walked into the bar. There was some dry blood on it, but Deran could tell it was a superficial cut, nothing serious.

"Don't talk about her like that, man. From what I'm hearing you deserved it." it was his subtle way of defending you against his dad. He didn't like to take sides, on anything really, but he made sure you knew he wasn't against what you'd done.

"Also." he turned to you. "Smurf's back from jail. I'd steer clear of the house for a while. She'll lose her shit when she finds out Pope's dating someone."

Your eyes widened. The name alone making you groan internally, already looking into the future and all the dumb shit that was about to unfold due to her return. You'd never met her, and you'd never wanted to. Being friends with Deran didn't give you any reason to get to know her, seeing as they all had friends they kept out of her reach. Even being close to him hadn't made your paths cross.

But you were now best friends with her youngest while dating her eldest. There was now a ticking time bomb until you were forced to be in her vicinity.

Things only got worse for Andrew upon Smurf's return. He pulled away from you once the DSFC dropped in on you a day after your return from the job, deciding it was in Lena's best interest if she were placed with a foster family. This on its own destroyed a fundamental part of what your lives had been for the past six months. It made Andrew spiral, with him out of the house at most times, arriving home after you were in bed and only mumbling something about how he'd been looking for Lena all day when he'd return.

You gave it a week before giving up on giving him space. You were worried about him, about Lena. And you really seemed like the only person who shared these concerns. From your understanding, not even Smurf was up to date (nor interested) with what was happening to Andrew.

And so you went to look for him at Smurf's.

Deran had begged you not to, saying that as soon as you met Smurf, your relationship with Andrew would never know peace again. He'd made sure Smurf never knew of Adrian, never allowed her close enough to poison the relationship.

When you got there, having the door opened to you by Frankie, you walked into the pool area. There was some commotion.

There was Andrew right on top of Billy, beating him to a pulp. You saw Andrew shove Billy's head into the pool water, saw Billy pull out a blade and saw Andrew smack it right out of his hand. Everyone gathered to watch, silent and in shock.

J spotted you, and so did Frankie and Craig, but you could only pay attention to Smurf, who had a smile on her lips as she watched her son beat her ex boyfriend to near death.

And just when Andrew was about to land a punch straight at Billy's nose, you spoke up, uttering his name and immediately halting his actions.

"Andrew."

Everyone looked to you then, even Smurf, whose smile dropped and eyes narrowed in your direction.

Andrew got up, landing one last kick at Billy before walking your way only to be received by your open arms.

"Go on boys. Get the groceries from the car." Smurf broke the silence, eyes still on you as you joined the guys in unloading the trunk.

➽──────────────────❥

Smurf hadn't quite acknowledged you just yet, but things were slowly falling right back into place for her.

She'd taken Andrew for a drive, making a few calls and finding out where Lena's foster home was, getting Andrew right back under her thumb with just that bit of information. The same had happened with Deran, whose father had robbed him of his safe at the bar, causing a distressed Deran to come back home for the time being.

You joined Deran and Andrew, staying at their house, steering clear of Smurf under their request, but still having to deal with the looks of annoyance she'd throw your way. She didn't bother much with the facade of niceties she usually pulled, having figured you out as Andrew's girlfriend from the moment your call of his name had been enough to get him to calm down — a skill only ever before being possessed by Julia and Smurf.

"How long you staying here for, sweetie?" she'd asked one day, flipping a pancake.

"For as long as Andrew's here, if that's okay with you." you decided to be civil despite how much you already hated her from mere word of mouth.

"Any of Andrew's friends are our friends." she'd said with a saccharine tone that made you sick.

The reality was that she had bigger fish to fry at that moment. You were a temporary problem she'd be dealing with after she dealt with Lucy and her crew.

She'd been pushing at her sons and grandson to work on Lucy and her guys, trying to convince them that they'd killed Baz and that they'd stolen the money Baz had stolen from her. Somehow she'd been able to make them believe that she'd kept that money as insurance for them, and that Baz had stolen it and hidden it with plans to run away with Lucy to Mexico. You knew it was a partial truth, but were still grateful the guys were at least apprehensive of her words, that they wouldn't fall blind victims to her lies.

But even then, Smurf was able to get them involved in her schemes without much effort.

She'd hired Pete's guys to track down Lucy's brother, Marcos, kidnapping him and using him as leverage to get her to give back the 1.4 million dollars she'd stolen in exchange for his safety.

And just like that, they'd agreed on a time and place to meet. The guys were reluctant, equipping themselves with bulletproof vests and hidden weapons just in case. The job was a simple yet deadly one, which led to your insistence in going.

"The hell you are." Andrew scoffed when you'd suggested it.

"Andrew, I'm not waiting at home to get a call that my boyfriend got killed in a shoot out. I'm going."

You were in the living room of the house while all the guys packed up the truck with weapons. You'd pulled Andrew aside, telling him of your demands.

"Are you crazy? I don't even wanna go. I'm not putting you in harm's way. These guys are dangerous." he huffed, angry at the mere suggestion.

"I'll wait in the car, outside, a block away, I don't care. I'm going. I already spoke about it with Deran."

That was coincidentally when the rest of his family made it back into the living room, eyeing you curiously at your defiant stance. Smurf had an amused look in her eyes.

"What's up?" asked Deran, patting your shoulder absentmindedly as he passed by you on his way to the coffee table.

"The hell do you think you're doing telling her she can come?" Andrew growled at Deran.

Deran shrugged. "She can just wait in the car. We need someone manning the truck in case we need to run fast anyway."

"He's right, baby. Let her come. She wants to help, isn't that right?" Smurf interrupted, making Andrew narrow his eyes at her.

"Mind your own business, Smurf."

"Guys, this is just wasting time. Let's just go. She'll drive the getaway car if things get to that, okay? She did fine with the truck for Billy's job, it's fine." J surprisingly interjected.

You said nothing more, at least glad you could be there for Andrew, already making a promise with yourself that you'd be more present in his life, no matter how dangerous the things he got up to were.

Andrew continued to sulk, complaining and angry everyone would go against him like this, but in the end he had to force a nod, agree and move on.

-

Once there, Craig parked the truck inside the warehouse in which you'd all agreed to meet. You moved onto the driver's seat when they all got off, getting one last kiss from Andrew as he walked away from the car.

"If shit goes south, you just drive, okay? Leave me behind if you have to."

You shook your head. "Anything that happens to you happens to me."

He sighed, but understood you wouldn't change your mind and kissed your lips, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment before joining his family as they waited for Lucy's men to arrive.

From your spot in the car, you couldn't really see much. They were all behind you, standing at a few feet away from Lucy and her men. You could, however, make out some of the words they exchanged. Your hands remained on the wheel, ready to go as soon as they got back into the car. It was unlikely you'd have to actually drive them away, as they were supposed to be able to collect their money and load it in the trunk calmly, but Deran and Craig had insisted you be prepared just in case.

They exchanged Marcos for the suitcases full of expensive jewelry, seemingly not having the entirety of the money owed to Smurf. You could see Andrew and Craig load them up into the trunk of the car as you waited for them to be done, but then there was a voice that suddenly broke out.

"You think this shit is over?" Marcos growled when one of their men took off his mouth gag. "I'm gonna blast all you punk asses tomorrow, watch!"

"Shut up, Marco!" Lucy yelled.

"You sicko bitch. You're done. All of you!"

Andrew was on his way to deliver the last bag into the trunk when Marco suddenly yelled again, pulling a gun out of the man's belt and shooting in Andrew's direction, causing him to fall.

You had no time to react before everyone started shooting, ducking while in the car as they began shooting at it, shooting at Smurf and J who'd jumped behind it to hide.

Craig and Deran pulled out guns, hiding behind anything they could find and shooting in Marcos' and Lucy's directions. Glass shattered from their bullets hitting the car, making you lay sideways across the front seats of the car to avoid getting hit.

Before anyone could process anything, Lucy's guys had already dragged Marcos, who'd been shot on the stomach by Craig after he'd shot Andrew, into their car. They drove away as Deran and Craig continued to shoot after them, and only when the guns seized were you able to get out of the driver's seat, rushing as you'd believed to have seen Andrew become collateral damage.

They all went to check in on each other, asking if everyone was okay, if anyone'd gotten hurt. Meanwhile, you looked around frantically, not even taking note of the various shards of glass that had cut your arms, some even your face. Your chest heaved as you began to hyperventilate, unable to spot Andrew anywhere.

"Where's Andrew?" you cried out, calling everyone's attention.

Deran knelt down, defeated while everyone else's eyes widened, gazes scouting the area but not spotting him anywhere.

"Where- where is he?" you asked again, hand clutching at your chest.

Deran went to you, holding onto you when he realized how heavily you were breathing, trying but failing at soothing you.

➽──────────────────❥

You all made it back home soon after that.

The driving had been left to Craig, as you were in no position to do so at the moment. Deran's passenger seat had been given to Smurf as he sat in the back with you, holding you while you muffled your cries for Andrew.

It had been hard for Deran to convince you to go back home. You'd been adamant, nearly hysterical in you screams to go get him back, to at least try and tail the car that had taken him. But they all saw reason better than you did at that moment. They'd done this before, knew that it was not only impossible to follow them, but also a waste of time. They knew that now you'd just have to wait.

You made it back to the Cody house, everyone quiet with remorse at what had happened. Some surely believing about the chance that Andrew might've been dead by now, having been shot and not treated, or perhaps that he'd been taken and tortured as revenge for Marcos.

They all argued with each other as soon as they sat in the living room. Craig immediately lost his cool, screaming about how they needed to go after him, that they needed to head to Mexico, to act now and get him back before they could begin hacking away at his limbs. Deran seemed more defeated, sitting you next to him as you practically dissociated, head lowered and tears still rolling down your cheeks. You said nothing while they yelled at each other, sat there completely defeated as anger brewed inside you when Craig brought up the reason they were in that situation in the first place.

Smurf.

"Stop. We're gonna get him back, but we need to keep our heads and think it through." she said to Craig.

You scoffed.

"Oh, think it through? Is that what you did when you went behind our backs and took Marco in the first place?" Craig argued back.

"I did that for the family and you know it."

"Oh, yeah, I bet you did." Craig was fuming, something you completely understood.

"Bullshit. This was about you." you interjected, looking to her with the most hatred your eyes could muster. She looked back in a similar fashion.

"You did this shit for you." Deran added, huffing.

"If we had let Lucy steal from us, we would be finished!"

"Finished?" you sneered back. "None of them wanted to do this in the first place! Not Craig, not Deran, not Andrew!"

"You watch your mouth." she warned.

"No, she's right, Smurf." Deran growled, getting up and walking towards her seat. "If Pope is dead. this is on you. This is on you!"

They continued yelling at each other, with Craig accusing J of knowing Lucy's guys while Smurf screamed at them to calm down. Deran kept quiet, but you could still see the anger in him. Eventually you all dispersed around the house, attempting to catch your cools in order to formulate a plan to get Andrew back.

It took hours until Smurf walked into the living room, finding you all sitting around, still fucked up by all that'd happened within the last few hours.

"I'm going to meet Lucy now. Alone." she spoke up. She looked completely destroyed, a look you were sure was brand new for her sons to see.

"Is Pope alive?" Deran asked.

"I don't know."

"I'm coming with you." Craig interjected, only to get shut down by Smurf.

"That's bullshit-"

"You can't go alone, Smurf. It's too dangerous." J reasoned.

But it all ended the same. No rebuttals from any of you could change her mind about going alone. And she was right to do so. There was no way Lucy or her men would ever let a third party interfere, so you all reluctantly agreed. Despite your heart beating right out of your chest, you stayed down, quietly sitting next to Deran as you watched Smurf leave.

It took hours for them to get back. You sat there for hours, rejecting every offer for a drink to ease your nerves coming from Craig and matching every pensive look J had adorning his face. The hours passed as you sat there, immovable, slowly trying to make peace with the fact that maybe Andrew would never come back, that the last words you'd spoken had been a lie.

'Anything that happens to you happens to me.'

Yet you'd remained inside the car, hidden, not even seeing when or where he'd gotten shot, having no idea he'd been taken until after the fact. You hated yourself for it. It was unrealistic to think you could've made any difference, but knowing that Andrew had been taken without a single person putting up a fight to prevent it made you sick to your stomach.

You ran to the bathroom to throw up, with Deran running after you and patting your back to offer you some comfort at what he knew was the worst moment of your life.

Once the sun had set, you finally heard a car pull up in the driveway. You'd stayed stationary in the living room all day, waiting and refusing to go to sleep when the guys had insisted, telling you they'd go get you when they came back. If you missed the moment he came back, you'd only beat yourself up about it even more than you'd already been doing. You couldn't even muster it within yourself to consider the possibility of Smurf returning alone.

The three of you stood by the entrance as the car parked, unable to make out if there was someone on the passenger's seat due to the headlights blaring in front of you.

But then the passenger door opened, and out came your Andrew.

His two brothers stood there as they watched him walk over, but you couldn't hold yourself back from running to him, arms wrapping around the back of his neck and bringing his head down to your shoulder, that space in the crook of your neck he always loved to nuzzle when you held him. His arms wrapped around you within seconds, engulfing you in his large frame while he breathed you in deeply.

"Andrew ..." you cried.

"It's okay. I'm okay, I'm sorry."

You shook your head, fingers running through his hair to soothe him.

"Don't apologize. None of this is your fault, Andrew. Just ... Fuck, just stay like this for a minute."

The guys let you have your moment, with Smurf walking past the two of you hugging and stepping into the house without a word. If she looked angry, you couldn't tell, because your mind was entirely occupied by Andrew as you held him.

When you finally let go, the guys had their turns giving him a hug, eyes teary as they expressed their gratitude for his return, their sorrows for letting him get taken.

"Come on, help me pack some stuff. We're not staying here tonight." Andrew said after you'd made it to his room.

"No? Where are we-"

"Deran's. I already told him. I don't want you staying here with Smurf, it's not safe anymore."

You didn't question him. He was already decided, not even giving himself a minute of rest before he shoved a few things in a duffel bag and grabbed your hand, letting you kiss Deran goodbye and hug Craig and J before leaving. The brothers found your affection strange, but returned it nonetheless.

The drive was a short one, making it to Deran's bar and upstairs to the small apartment within less than fifteen minutes. It was silent, but not tense. Andrew held onto your hand the entire drive, bringing it up for kiss its back at a stop sign when he noticed some tears still in your eyes.

By the time you arrived, you were both exhausted, letting the day get the best of you and practically dragging your feet upstairs. The silence did not help matters, making him feel unnerved about everything when you'd entered the apartment and simply stood in the middle of it while looking down at your hands.

"Andrew ..." you called his attention, sniffling.

He took a few steps towards you, letting the duffel bag fall off his shoulder in the process. He spoke first.

"If this ... If this is too much for you, I understand." he began, exhaling, "You shouldn't have to put up with this- this bullshit. You shouldn't be putting yourself in dangerous situations, waiting for me to get back, or, fuck, joining us when shit goes south."

You shook your head as he spoke, not even entertaining the motion of what he was implying.

"Stop- stop saying that. I don't care, Andrew. No matter what happens, I don't care. I'm staying."

He sighed, looking down and finding your hand reaching for his. He couldn't deny you, not even as he tried to convince you to break up with him, to run and not look back.

"You can't say that. You cant ... You can't keep doing this to yourself. It's not worth it. I can't let you do it."

"Hey." your hands lifted, dropping his and cupping his cheeks instead. "I love you. Anything I have to do to be with you is worth it. Do you understand?"

Your voice was stern, a tone Andrew had never heard from you. In other circumstances he'd feel scolded, duck his tail between his legs and avoid your eyes. But despite your tone, despite how serious and furious you sounded, your eyes were still full of compassion for him.

Without a response, he nodded, letting you pull him down for a kiss and wrapping his limp arms around your waist, holding you to him as he'd done when he first arrived back at the house. The kiss ended after a bit, but your embrace continued for a while longer. Andrew felt you shudder in his arms, frowning at the realization that he'd made you cry again.

Andrew led you to the shower, undressing you and himself, holding you under the water for a few minutes before even bothering to move to get yourselves clean. But your nails dug into the skin of his forearms, and he just couldn't bring himself to pull away. He laid kisses on the wet top of your head, chin eventually finding its home on your shoulder and lips turning every so often to kiss your skin.

When he went to grab some shampoo, your hand reached out to his wrist, stopping him before he could continue, and looking into his eyes with a look that made his heart break. It was the most vulnerable he'd ever seen you, a girl he'd always known for her outspoken confidence, her lack of trouble when holding his gaze in a way not many others were able to.

"Please ..." you pleaded. "I want- I want to feel you. Please, Andrew? I need to ... I need to know you're here."

Your voice destroyed him inside out. It was so meek and broken, lacking any confidence — as if you were scared he wasn't real, that he'd get taken away again if you made your needs known. It was either that or a belief that he'd ever reject you, that he'd ever be offered a way in which to take care of you and decline it.

"Okay." he nodded, leaning down and kissing your lips again.

You cried against his lips, needy hands reaching to his hair and pulling him closer. His own lips opened, seeking you out, taking control and letting himself have you.

It was easy to let go while he had you in his arms. The short time he'd been away, you'd been the only thing on his mind, the one regret he had leaving behind. And he kissed you like so, like he couldn't breathe without you, like he needed to prove just how much he regretted ever being taken away from you. Because this was the only place in which he belonged. He'd come to learn that that feeling was mutual, and he couldn't handle the thought of taking this away from you, of having it be taken away from him.

One of his hands slid down your body, already familiar with the song and dance to get you into position, get your leg lifted, wrapped around his waist so he could slide inside you, neither of you caring that it was too soon or that you needed more prep.

Your shared groans of relief landed in each other's lips, your noises of pleasure making it almost impossible to kiss, but still fighting the battle to try.

Andrew almost lost his balance at the pleasure of being sheathed inside you, one palm slamming against the glass door behind you to recover his balance. He pounded into you, not aggressively, but with every pent up feeling inside him. He let himself loose, liberally groaning and whining your name in between expletives, declaring himself to you.

"Please. Please don't leave." he cried. "I need you here."

It only made you cry louder, nodding your head aggressively and attempting a few syllables in between moans but failing. All you could do in between the crying and the noises of bliss were blabbers.

"Can't fucking do this shit without you. D- don't make me stop."

Your ankle dug harder into his back, pushing him even deeper inside you in a silent plea for him to never stop.

"Don't, oh fuck, please don't stop." you sighed out, head falling back.

Licking at the exposed skin there, he grunted into your neck, sucking on an old hickey he'd left there earlier in the week. He couldn't let it fade. Needed it to be there as a reminder for the two of you.

A chorus of his name hit his ear when you came, pulling him into heaven right with you. But even as you finished, now filled with his essence, he stayed inside you for a while. He kissed and loved on you, something you usually did to him instead. He wasn't sure what'd changed when he'd been abducted, but he just couldn't help himself. It grounded him.

The shower was slow, the warm water somehow lasting all throughout the near two hours you were in there taking care of each other.

He washed you while you washed him, hands soft and slow in their movements. Not many words were exchanged, but those that snuck in between the silence were vows of affection that couldn't help but leave your lips.

When the two of you finally made it to bed, Andrew laid back, positioning himself the same way he always did to engulf you in his arms. But you stopped him, finger gesturing at him to turn around.

"I wanna hold you tonight. I need to make sure you're still here."

And he couldn't disobey that request.

It felt better than he'd ever imagined.

He'd never been held like this by anyone who wasn't Smurf or Julia.

His back was too wide for you to lay down while nuzzling into the crook of his neck like he did to you, so you opted to kiss at his back, mumbling something about wanting to give him a kiss for every freckle adorning it.

"It was her." Andrew whispered after a while of being doted on by you.

"Who?"

"Smurf." he clarified. "The person who killed Baz."

"Did Lucy tell you that?"

You believed him. You just wanted to give him space to keep talking, get it all out of his chest.

"Yeah. A few weeks ago, when she called me down to Mexico. Said Smurf hired some girl to kill him."

"I'm sorry, Andrew."

He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. But you could tell it was. You could tell that if you prodded too much, he'd break.

"I think I need to take care of her." he said after some silence.

"What do you mean?"

He gave you a pensive hum before responding. "I can't tell you. I don't wanna implicate you."

You nodded to yourself, kissing his back one last time in affirmation.

"Okay."

The two of you fell asleep quickly after that. And when you woke up, you chose to spend the next few days holed up in Deran's apartment. It was a way for Andrew to heal from everything he'd been through the past few days, The only worry on his mind was Lena, but you assured him that she was probably fine with her foster family, that you'd help him with whatever he needed after he took rest for a couple of days.

➽──────────────────❥

Things continued to spiral.

Andrew was happy with his alone time with you, away from Smurf and all her pretenses for care for her family.

But when he went back home to discuss Lena with her, he'd found some unprecedented news.

Lena was coming home, but she was coming home to Smurf, with her becoming her primary guardian due to Andrew's record.

She'd used this to rope Andrew into moving back home with her, which he reluctantly accepted after your reassurance that you'd join him if he asked you to — which, despite his shame, he did.

Immediately upon Lena's arrival back home, it was obvious to you and Andrew she did not want to be there. She'd had a taste of a good foster family, one with a daughter her age, looking to adopt a girl just like Lena, and she'd finally found some of the stability that'd been robbed from her when her mother died.

It took everything in Andrew to make this decision, but he ultimately gave in, deciding he'd do everything he could to get Lena back into her foster house, even if it meant dealing with Smurf.

You accompanied him to the foster house, sat back while he talked to Lena as they sat on the swings, apologetic as he shared his struggles when he was her age. He told her about how he was always angry, how kids would push him around, that he'd defend himself and the teachers would get mad, never once punishing the other kids like they did him. He told her about how they all thought he was terrible, even Smurf. He admitted to how awful he thought himself to be, but at least he had someone who was nice to him — his sister, with Baz being the second, and Cath the third. He told her how he promised them he'd take care of her. He cried, knowing this was the final goodbye and shared one last hug with her before getting up and walking back to you.

Your heart broke when you heard him share the intimate details of his childhood with Lena. It made bile fill your stomach, made you shut your eyes close to prevent the tears from trailing down. And when the two of you walked out of the house, you held him, letting him cry in your arms at the sacrifice he'd made.

Back home, Andrew made a deal with Smurf.

He'd give Lena away to her foster parents and keep Smurf's secret about what she'd done to Baz. She argued back, claiming he was in his head, that everyone was worried about his behavior and that she needed him to stay home with him where she could take care of him.

With hesitance, he agreed, knowing that if he didn't, Smurf would go after Lena and the cycle would repeat. He couldn't let that happen to Lena.

"What about Lena?" he'd asked.

"I'll forget she ever existed."

"And ... and what about her?" he asked, referring to you.

Smurf smiled at him. "She's not staying anywhere near my house." she got up, patting his arm lovingly. "Now, you pull yourself together and come join the party."

-

Andrew spent the next three weeks in almost complete isolation in Smurf's home.

It was never explicitly stated, but it was heavily implied that Andrew was not to leave the house, that he was not to step out of line, or else Lena would pay the consequences.

Andrew hadn't seen you in those three weeks. He'd heard from you through Deran, living in turmoil at the thought of being away from you for so long. He hoped you understood, tried to believe you when you said you did, but he was still terrified that you'd one day have enough and run off.

Within those three weeks, Andrew had once opened the door to some woman, a hooker Smurf had sent for him. She'd told him he seemed stressed lately, that he needed something to take the edge off. This only angered him further, making him panic at the thought of this getting back to you.

After sending the woman away, Andrew couldn't help himself, getting in his car and rushing to Deran's bar, no shirt or shoes on due to his rush.

When he finally arrived there, he knocked on your door, tears welling in his eyes and lips quivering. You opened the door within a few seconds, taking him in and immediately rushing to him and cradling him in your arms. The two of you crumbled to the floor as he cried. His hands gripped you harshly, terrified of letting you go and having you disappear forever.

"I'm here, Andrew. I'm here." you comforted him.

"I'm- I'm sorry. I miss you so much. I miss Lena. I miss- I can't do this."

And you cried with him, telling him you missed him too, that you'd be waiting for him until things with Smurf calmed down and enough time passed to make it harder for her to take Lena away from her foster parents. You told him that as soon as she was officially adopted, you'd drag him out of that house yourself, keep him all to yourself and never let him go.

Chapter Text

Andrew had been doing street boxing for the past few months now.

According to Deran, it was something he did back in high school, also during his twenties when Smurf suggested it (with ulterior motives in mind, knowing it kept him injured and in place while also bringing money to her pocket).

The guys were worried about him, seeing the way in which he was overexerting himself, making his own life a constant cycle of boxing and staying up most of the night as he sat up on Lena's old bed.

And you? You hadn't been able to see Andrew as much as you'd wished. He'd kept his distance from you, not wanting to put you on Smurf's shit list merely for being associated with him in any way.

It had broken your heart when he'd arrived at your months ago and cried into your arms, but it had broken you even more when he came back a few days later and told you it would probably be good if you two didn't see each other for the next few months. Deran had to deal with your heartbreak, a little annoyed but still sympathetic as he saw you spiral into depression at the absence of Andrew in your life, at the constant worry for his safety.

Still, you kept up with him through his brothers. You had Deran tell you how he was doing at least a few times a week, ignoring his looks of pity at the way in which you still cared so strongly for who was technically now your ex boyfriend.

But you didn't consider him as such. Andrew had never broken up with you, specially not by his own volition. You knew that as soon as Lena's adoption went through (which apparently was a long and arduous process), you could run back into his arms.

It wasn't until an incident at a job came up that you decided to physically go over to Smurf's to check on Andrew. Not until Craig and Deran came up to you while you were manning the bar and told you about how worried they were about him. They looked to you, hesitant, as they told you about his attempt at suicide by cop, running his bike straight at the police who'd been chasing him, only to be stopped by Craig and dragged away.

The news destroyed you. You hadn't been seeing Deran as much as before now that he'd practically moved in with Adrian, who had just come back from surfing overseas. You were alone, in the process of moving out of the small room above Deran's bar and maybe finding a new job. Everything was crumbling down in your life, making you begin to lose any confidence that anyone could possibly keep Andrew afloat now that Smurf had full control of him.

He wanted to die, preferred to be gunned down by cops than to continue suffering as a prisoner in Smurf's home.

And then came Angela.

Angela, an old friend from high school, one of the many girls Julia brought around who hung out with Andrew out of obligation to his sister.

Deran gave you the 411 about her. He told you about how Andrew used to have a crush on her, how she enabled Julia's drug abuse, how she'd just been released from prison and how he didn't trust her, sure she was probably fishing for money. He also told you about how she was now staying at Smurf's.

That made you reel.

Before you knew it, you were already at Smurf's, having asked Deran to let you know if he found out about a time in which she'd be gone.

But what you found was Andrew on his driveway, fists beating against a boxing bag as a girl stood near him, a satisfied smile on her face as she spoke to him. Andrew didn't appear particularly engaged in the conversation, but he was still giving her more attention than he'd given you in the past two months.

You'd overheard J tell his brothers about Angela's arrival a few days back, hearing how Smurf didn't want her there, but that Andrew had insisted. That she was in a tight spot and needed a place to stay and that he'd gone against Smurf's wishes to let her stay.

He could defy her for someone else, just not you.

➽──────────────────❥

Deran hadn't been back in the house in a while. They'd have family dinner once a week, but other than that, he'd stay away as much as possible.

But during these family dinners he could see how broken Pope was growing to become. He'd catch him dissociating, losing track of time and of himself.

So when Craig suggested Deran find some work for Pope at his bar, something to take his mind off how much he missed you, how miserable he was away from you and locked up at Smurf's, he reluctantly agreed. He was aware of how much the two of you were hurting, so maybe this push would help reconciliate things, even if Smurf kept getting in the way.

When he walked in, he'd found Pope shirtless, sitting in front of the TV as he watched its blank screen. It made him scoff, though it also made him a little sad to see his brother so out of it. He also thought of you, of how shitty you'd feel at knowing how helpless the situation was for Pope.

He leaned over the counter, looking down at Pope before calling his attention.

"Hey, I need some help, man."

"What?" there was inflection in Pope's voice.

"At the bar. You interested in a job?"

"A job?" Pope peeked behind him, eyeing Deran at his proposition. "You mean, like, as a bartender?"

"No, I'm set with bartenders."

"Like, bouncer?"

"Uh, no. Like, general maintenance. Cleaning, for starters. Cause, uh, health department kind of gave me a 'B.'"

Pope fully glared at Deran now. "Janitor?"

"No, man." Deran shook his head. "You would be in charge of shit, man. Like, you would be telling the janitor what to do, you know?"

"Is this like a charity thing?"

"No. It's just, like, you're sitting down here watching a TV that's not turned on." Deran walked over to Pope, hands on his hips as he gestured at the blank screen. "I just think you should get out of the house, you know?"

"Did- did she ask you to do this?" Pope asked, referring to you.

"No, man. I'm just worried about you." he explained. "She'll be there, though, so you guys can see each other away from Smurf. Smurf doesn't know she works there."

Pope nodded to himself, hands settling on his thighs as he thought it over.

Deran really should've led with that. You were probably the main reason Pope hadn't gone insane yet.

"I'll do it. I want to see her."

"So, you guys getting back together? Congrats, man. Cause you really will never do better than her." Deran chuckled.

"We aren't ... not together. It's just- Smurf doesn't like her. Kept making these ... threats." Andrew grumbled, not liking the implication that you were ever not in a relationship, feeling a pang of some frustrating feeling within him that he didn't fully understand. "She's gone a lot lately. I think it's safe to start bringing her around again."

"Good. I hope you guys can work it out."

"Has there ..." Andrew started, not finishing his thought.

"Has there what?"

"Has she been with anyone else these past few months? Craig wouldn't tell me when I asked."

It was jealousy.

That was the feeling that had been creeping up in his stomach.

And it wasn't the first time.

He'd thought about the possibility of you moving on when he had first made himself a slave to Smurf a few months ago. He'd told you you should stay apart, probably making you think he wanted to break up. And you had all the right to look for someone else, but the thought had been haunting him from the moment it first arose in him after watching you walk away with tears in your eyes that night two months ago.

He needed to know. He wanted to convince himself he wouldn't harm whoever had gotten their hands on you, but the reality was that he was more than prepared to end a life if anyone had so much as looked at you in that way.

He didn't even know where you lived anymore. He knew you'd been in the process of moving, no longer staying at Deran's apartment, but he had no idea of your current whereabouts. It drove him crazy, all by his own doing.

It wouldn't have surprised him if you'd had men lining up for you. He still didn't know what to do with himself any time he looked at you, would bunch his fists so hard the knuckles would go white when you kissed him, when you walked around your old shared room fully nude and teasingly crawled to him across the bed while he tried to avert his eyes.

"Are you kidding? She's been crying for two months straight." Deran snorted. "She gets me to scare off any guys that come near her cause she's been fuckin' waiting for you, man."

Andrew's stomach grumbled, a pit forming at the reminder that he'd been hurting you all this time. You hadn't told him to what extent you'd been hurting the few times he'd managed to call you, but hearing it from Deran, he knew it was way worse than he'd imagined.

"Okay." was all he could really respond.

Deran nodded, "Well, so, about that job. You taking it, or what?"

"She still works full time at the bar, right?"

Deran scratched the back of his neck, leaning on his forearms as he stared down at Andrew on his seat. "Uh, not really. Less hours lately. She's thinking about getting back to nursing."

"Right. I'll work her same hours." he stood up, walking over to Deran and patting his shoulder amicably as he passed him.

"Okaaaay, sure. Just come in later today, I guess."

"She gonna be there?"

"Yeah, man, don't worry about it."

-

Andrew arrived at the bar, deflating when Deran told him you wouldn't be there til an hour later.

So he got to work. He went straight to the kitchen, occupying himself as he waited for you to arrive. He really wanted to see you, hadn't heard from you in weeks. He was worried about where he stood in your life.

He and Deran got into it a little bit, arguing about how filthy Deran's bar was, about how maintaining a low health score for street cred was incredibly stupid and how much Andrew hated that concept. It made him itch how filthy everything was, with a rat trapped in the stove, with random shit dirtying up the walls.

Andrew kept rumbling at Deran up until you walked in, interrupting their conversation with a chuckle at Andrew's scolding.

"There's a lot more shit to clean. A lot more shit." Andrew said as Deran rolled his eyes, already regretting his decision to get him working at his place.

Then a voice interrupted.

"You should've seen this place when he first got it. I had to clean it all up for him." you suddenly spoke, drawing the boys' attention to your spot at the door. "I relieved Luis. I'm starting my shift in ten minutes." you nodded at Deran.

Andrew halted, staring at you with anticipation. He wanted to talk to you. He hadn't seen you in far too long, losing his mind over the distance he'd created between you, the distance Smurf had forced him to create.

Deran nodded, "Great. Hey, show him around. Tell him where all the cleaning shit is. I got a shit ton of admin stuff to do." Deran said dismissively as he stepped out, patting your shoulder on his way and leaving the two of you alone.

Your arms wrapped around yourself, hugging yourself in a comforting manner as you avoided Andrew's eyes. He looked directly to you, skin rising in goosebumps at how uncomfortable you seemed.

"I, uh, you know where everything is, right? I should get to work." you mumbled, eyes looking everywhere but at him. You took a few steps towards the door then, clearly wanting to be anywhere but near him.

"Hey- hey." Andrew tried to be calm and normal as he stopped you from following Deran out of the room.

"Yeah?" you turned to him.

Andrew fumbled awkwardly with his hands, removing his handyman gloves and looking away from your eyes momentarily.

"What's- what's wrong? Are you mad at me? I just ... I wanted to see you. Deran got me a job here and I thought- maybe we could start seeing each other again."

He felt pathetic as each word left his lips. He'd put himself in this situation, making you wait for him, making you cry as you hoped he'd finally reach out, only for him to be too lost in his own misery to even try. Unbeknownst to him, you'd gone to his house looking for him, only to realize he had another girl in the house. He was terrified of how bad things were from your point of view, out of his mind with fear you'd just up and leave, with ample justification for doing so.

"Oh." you mumbled, not meeting his eyes. "I wasn't sure if you wanted to see me again."

"I always want to see you."

You scoffed, making Andrew flinch slightly.

"You haven't wanted to see me in months. You won't even call me anymore" there was no real inflection in your voice, but Andrew's heart still felt a pang.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." he started. "I've been doing this to keep you safe."

You sighed, looking down to your feet. You looked sad, a look of yours Andrew was unfortunately growing used to seeing.

"I just don't know where we stand, Andrew."

Andrew took a step closer, proceeding with caution when his hand lifted to wipe at a tear about to drop down your cheek. Intaking a breath, he tried to find the words to say.

"I love you."

That got you to look up at him. He leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut as he felt the warmth of your proximity.

"You know I love you too." you responded.

You looked back up at him, finding his hazel, wet eyes looking to you with the same concern he always had when you were first getting to know each other. It was that same look he always gave you any time he'd try and give you an out of the relationship, completely heartbroken at the possibility of you leaving him, but caring too much to keep you caged to the misery that always followed him.

He stayed quiet as he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, face digging its way into the crook of your neck and nesting itself there. Your hands aided him, pressing into his hair and pulling him close. This was a familiar stance for the two of you, the only thing that always gave him unconditional comfort.

"I missed you." you cried, and he just held you closer.

"I'm sorry." Andrew whimpered. "I want you around- I miss you."

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, not talking anything over just yet, but feeding that starving need to feel each other. It'd been too long for either of you without each other's touch, it'd gotten past a manageable state.

When you pulled away, you nodded to him, sniffling.

"Come upstairs with me. You can help me pack my last few things for my new place, then we can talk."

He sighed in relief. It was good you told him about your apartment. It meant you hadn't wanted to completely pull away.

-

"Here. I just have to pack the rest of my clothes. I already moved my furniture and everything else."

"Why are you moving?" he asked as he helped fold clothes, taking a box from you and setting it up so he could pack stuff in there.

You shrugged. "Deran's mostly staying somewhere else lately. Craig's moved out and now I'm just alone up there. I guess I needed a change."

He hummed in understanding.

"Have you ever thought of us living together?" you asked as you organized the clothes in your box.

"Yeah. I think about it all the time."

"Yeah? Know where?"

"Doesn't' matter." he muttered. "Just wanna share a bed with you."

You took a breath, waiting a few beats before speaking again. "Is Angela gonna be staying with you for long?"

Fuck.

Andrew had no idea how you knew about Angela, nor how long you'd known. He had wanted to be the one to tell you, understanding how bad it looked at face value, for him to be housing a friend from high school, one that his family believed he'd had a crush on back in the day.

And he understood your apprehension. If you were staying with some man, Andrew wouldn't know what to do with himself. He didn't want to share you, ever. He'd been lucky that your best friend was his little brother, because if it were anyone else, he was certain the envy would eat him inside out.

"She- she was looking for Julia. Didn't know she was- she was dead." he explained. "It's just until she gets back up on her feet. She just got out of prison, she's trying to stay sober, I just-"

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"There's nothing going on." he pleaded with you. "I wanted to wait until Smurf backed off. It took longer than I thought, but- she's been gone a lot lately."

"So it's just been you and Angela at home?" you weren't even looking at him anymore, hands no longer working on folding your clothes and instead facing down, posture stiff and demeanor broken.

Andrew huffed to himself, incredibly angry at how stupid he'd been acting. He didn't regret letting Angela in, knowing she'd end up just like Julia if he didn't offer his help, but he wanted nothing more than to go back and manage things differently. To make you think there was another woman in his life killed him.

He walked over to you with hesitance, one hand reaching for yours and lifting it up to his face, nose pressing against it and taking in the scent of your skin. You continued looking down, though, a lump forming on your throat.

"Look at me."

And you did, showing Andrew your wet, reddened eyes. Your lower lip protruded in a pout, the tip of your nose raw.

"There's nothing going on. I swear." he rasped. "I love you."

And you believed him, nodding as he leaned down, connecting your lips for the first time in months. You sighed against him, hands greedy as they reached up to him and dug into his curls, pulling him as close as you possibly could, breathing him in, making up for all the time you'd been kept away from him.

The two of your stayed upstairs together for a while, texting Deran that you needed a bit before clocking in. You and Andrew needed this time alone, this reconciliation.

Andrew hated how defeated you seemed when he first arrived, but he was set on fixing this. Smurf was too occupied elsewhere lately to even attend his boxing matches anymore. She was slipping, losing hold of J as he had a new girlfriend, of Deran as he practically moved in with Adrian. He just needed to wait a little more, maybe tail Smurf so he could make sure he could finally start staying over at your place, make space for you in his life as you deserved.

You gave him an olive branch even when he didn't deserve one, telling him to come over to your new place that weekend, that you wanted to spend the night with him, that you needed him close and to keep him all to yourself for at least a night.

He thanked Deran before he went home that night.

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Lines were blurring with Angela.

He'd gone home that same night, waiting impatiently for the weekend when he'd finally get to see you again (even if he'd be seeing you at work, the bar could sometimes get busy, meaning he wouldn't really have you to himself while there). It was the first time he'd been in a good mood in a while. Smurf was finally backing off, appearing out of the ordinary, secluded, but Andrew couldn't care less. Not after everything.

But when he'd gotten home, gotten himself to sleep in what used to be Lena's room, he'd been awoken by a pair of arms wrapping around him, a warm body pressed against his back.

It was Angela.

He'd been so tired, so completely out of it, that he didn't realize what was happening until he'd woken up the next morning. When he felt someone grumble behind him, he jumped out of the bed, creating space between them, eyes intense as he looked away from her.

"Why did you- I have a girlfriend."

Angela appeared genuinely shocked by the fact, offended even.

Her head tilted to the side in a questioning manner. "You don't have to lie to me. It's okay if you don't want me here-"

"No. You can stay. I just- I have a girlfriend. We can't do this."

Angela scoffed to herself, nodding, not very convincingly. "Okay, Pope."

It stayed at that for the time being, but Angela continued to push as he waited for the weekend to come, Angela kept crossing boundaries. She'd stand just a little too close, bring up a crush she used to have on him (one Andrew didn't remember ever happening), would look down from his eyes and onto his lips, would bring up old stories from their old days with Julia. She'd even go as far as trying to make amends between him and Smurf, trying to put herself in places she didn't really belong.

And Andrew didn't do much to stop it. She was a volatile person, barely now finding herself, calming down after years of the lifestyle that had killed his sister. He didn't want to be the cause for her running off, finding herself in the wrong place and ending up like Julia.

He averted his eyes, took a step back, did everything as subtly as possible to steer her away, but Smurf's condition only made them grow closer.

On the day Smurf passed out, she'd helped him get her to the car, kissing his cheek as he left before he could even realize what happened. Everything in his brain began to scramble, not knowing how to deal with Smurf and wanting nothing more than your company to help him through this. But then Smurf set her foot down, forbidding him from telling anyone else that she had cancer.

Andrew kept to himself, coming home and blurting it out to Angela without even realizing it. He'd been vulnerable, everything happening too fast in his life. It'd only been two days since he'd had that talk with you at Deran's and he felt insane as time just kept you apart.

Angela snuck into his room that night, closing the door behind her, taking advantage of the dark of the night and stealing a kiss from him.

Andrew, even starved for touch, thinking of you every passing second, pushed her away, practically growling at her to get off. She could stay, he'd never kick her out the way Smurf had Julia, but she needed to keep her distance.

"How can you choose someone else?" Angela was angry, hushing her angry words. "I was there for Julia. I was the only person who was ever there after what Smurf did."

He felt like shit. He knew that what she was saying was true, but he couldn't find it in himself to see her that way, not when he had you, the only person who'd looked at him with kindness. He remembered Angela, how she hung around his house, whispering to Julia, eyeing him sideways and only ever acknowledging him when Julia was around. He forgave her for looking at him like he was a freak back then, all he wanted was for her to stay healthy, to not end up in the way Julia had. But he couldn't have her taking away the only source of light in his life.

You didn't deserve any of this.

"I- I'm sorry." he grunted. "You can stay. But this can't happen." was the last thing he said before storming out.

It was late. Smurf was asleep. Her illness made her too exhausted to even notice his absence, so he took advantage, grabbing his jacket and storming off into the night. He called Deran, demanding he share your new address with him, calling it an emergency.

And before he knew it, he was there, knocking on your door at 2 AM.

-

"Andrew? What's wrong? I thought we weren't seeing each other until tomorrow?"

You led him inside as you spoke, not questioning him as to how he knew your address. It wasn't a secret. You'd secretly hoped he'd show up like this for the past two months.

"Just needed to see you."

"At 2 in the morning?"

"Is that okay?"

You kissed his cheek, closing the door and leading him further inside. "It's always okay."

"Did I wake you?"

You shook your head. "No. I was re-hashing some of my old nursing stuff. I'm gonna start taking more shifts at the hospital."

"How come?"

Shrugging, you led him to the couch, sitting him down and walking towards the connected kitchen. You grabbed a couple of beers and brought out a day-old muffin from your pantry to split with him.

"Just wanted something different. Then I can help you whenever you're all banged up." Your finger went to trace at his bruised eye (courtesy of all the street boxing), drifting onto his nose and pouting when he flinched a bit at your touch.

"You'll be great at it."

"Thank you." you smiled lightly. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

He didn't.

He didn't want to tell you about the kiss. It'd been forced on him. He didn't want it. He wanted nothing to do with anyone who wasn't you. But having participated (willingly or not) made him angry. Not necessarily at Angela — he didn't feel he could blame her, aware of how skewed your view of life could be right after being released from prison — but angry that he'd taken part in something that could potentially hurt you.

So he came to you.

He'd been missing you, probably would've combusted with need to see you by now if Deran hadn't orchestrated a meeting between you.

He'd been too weak, letting Smurf's ruse get to him, break him down enough he gave up on even trying to escape, seeking out a more permanent release and putting his life on the line if it meant he could escape her. Except he'd been selfish at it. While he may have sacrificed himself for Lena's well-being, he hadn't considered how badly his absence would affect you. It was something he was still grappling with.

Seeing you a few days ago helped ground him. It reminded him of the way you'd been there for him all those months ago, waiting for him as he was with Amy, accepting him when he'd opened up to you, defending him against Billy, breaking down when he'd been taken away, and even now, patiently waiting for him as things settled with Smurf.

But he'd had enough now. He was ready to come back to you.

"I just missed you." was his response, ragged, raw.

"I missed you too." you scoot closer to him on the couch.

He noticed your pajamas then.

You usually wore a shirt of his, maybe some of his boxers or just a pair of panties when it was hot outside. But now you were wearing some tiny shorts, ridden all the way up as you sat, and a cropped tank top. You didn't have any of his clothes to borrow here, he realized.

"You sleeping over?"

"Can I?"

"Be careful. I might just keep you forever." you joked, but he wanted it to be true.

"Where's your room?"

"Come with me." you gestured, getting up and offering him your hand to guide him to one of the two other doors inside the small apartment.

Once there, you guided him to your bed, sitting him down as you went to close your curtains — he remembered this habit of yours, getting too caught up in something and forgetting to close your blinds before sunset.

You returned to him quickly, a comfortable pace in your step as you rearranged your blankets, threw some throw pillows on the floor. You were used to having him around in closed spaces. The two of you had shared a room at Baz's old place for long. There was a familiarity in it that Andrew never thought he'd grow used to. It'd been taken away from him for a while, but it only took a few minutes alone with you for it to start growing back.

"Can I take this off?" you reached his shoulders, fingers pulling at the fabric of his shirt. "I don't have any of your clothes here."

He nodded. His hands remained to his sides, hands balled in stilled fists.

He still wasn't fully sure where this was going. You were undressing him, but that could've meant a lot of things. Right now he was itching for something he wasn't sure how to ask for. He'd never been good at asking for it, and now that it'd been so long since the last time, he was at an even greater loss.

But then he remembered how well you knew him. You knew him better than anyone. You'd see the clench of his jaw, the air coming out of his nostrils, how stiff he was. You'd know he needed to relax, and you knew how hard it was for him to find an outlet for it.

Once you'd helped undress him, piece by piece of clothing leaving his body, landing him in his bare boxers, you took a seat on him, straddling his legs with pure innocence.

Your hands settled on his shoulders for a moment until one of your hands trailed to his chin, turning his head to look at you.

"I've really missed you." you'd said it many times already, but Andrew didn't grow tired of hearing it.

The next 'I missed you' was delivered after a kiss to his jaw, followed by subsequent ones that trailed to his ear, finding its shell and breathing against it. He shuddered, hands gripping your hips now.

When your hands wandered, he let it happen, sighing into the empty air of the room and letting his eyes flutter shut. He was still pent up, stiff and unknowing of how to fully let go. But little by little, you were breaking him down. He hadn't come here for this, but just within a moment of being near you, he knew that he needed it. He'd missed you, but he hadn't considered how much he'd missed your body until he had it on top of his own.

You always knew how to take care of him. You'd never had any trouble getting him to open up in this way, always offering him a smile, silently letting him know that it was fine to want this, eventually opening him up enough that he'd find himself starting things without shame.

But Andrew needed you to take the reins today, and was grateful you hadn't made him ask for it.

Your hand found his middle, softly palming at his crotch when he sighed your name, so low it was almost muted.

"This okay?" you'd whispered against his ear, a wet kiss landing on it.

He nodded, huffing.

He felt the need to be quiet. He felt shame at coming to you like this, at leaving you on your own for so long only to come crawling back to you in the middle of the night in need of solace, landing himself under your touch due to his lack of control against you.

You didn't care. You never had. You'd give him anything he wanted, unquestionably. He had a hard time understanding this even after knowing you for so long now. You were still a brand new experience to him. Someone who touched him out of her own desire, out of a want to be there for him in every form, carnally.

Your hand made its way under his boxers, gripping him before pulling him out and smearing his pre cum down his length. He gasped, face burying in your neck, teeth baring but not biting you like he once would've. He felt he needed to earn it.

Your other hand dug into his curls, pulling him closer to your neck, silent in encouragement he do whatever he wanted with the skin found there. Only then did he kiss at it, bite, suck, sighing internally in relief at getting to mark you again, ensuring you were still his.

After some moments of this, your fingers dug into his hair, pulling him away from your neck and earning a hiss from him. He got pulled right into your lips, engaging in a wet kiss while you continued to jerk him off. He couldn't help the occasional whine leaving his lips. It made him heat up, but you enjoyed it — you always enjoyed his sounds, always made some of your own when he'd moan.

Kissing down his jaw, you reached his neck, leaning back so you could kiss at his chest, flicking your tongue at his nipple before making your way down his torso. This forced you to get off his lap, kneeling on the floor before him and looking up at him when your lips reached his happy trail.

Again, his hands clenched in tight fists. He was so wound up, so needy, yet he couldn't bring himself to ask for more. He didn't deserve you on your knees. He never had, but much less now.

"You don't have to." was all he could say. He was too weak to say no, — not that he'd ever want to say no to you, to this — but he couldn't bring himself to ask for it either.

"Please." you whispered.

You didn't need any more words before pulling down his boxers completely, bringing his hardened cock close to your lips. Your tongue hit his tip first, swiping across it and collecting any pre cum still gathering there. He held back a groan, hands fisting the sheets beneath him.

Your mouth opened to take him in, suckling at him slowly before taking in more. Both your hands held onto his length, working him as you sheathed it deeper into your mouth, head bobbing faster by the second.

The squelching sound alone made Andrew's brain melt, but the feeling of the warm tightness of your mouth made a deep grumble escape from his chest. He heaved, attempting to not make any loud noises, but failing as soon as he opened his eyes and found your face.

Your eyes were rolled back, spit dribbling down your chin and your mouth in an 'o' shape as you sucked him off. The vibrations from your moans made him lose his breath, had his knuckles turning white as he almost ripped through your sheets.

Andrew gasped, letting out tiny whimpers that just couldn't help but escape him. His skin was clammy, hot to the touch and his hair stuck to his forehead. His hands itched to go to the back of your head, to pull you against him as he drove his hips into your mouth, but he held back. He let you take control, sighing when he took notice of the slight movement of your hips. You were grinding against nothing, receiving no pleasure from this but still unable to help yourself, and it drove him mad.

"Oh." he choked out when you took him to the hilt, when your hands reached south and found his balls, working them with your spit-stained hands.

Andrew couldn't handle you. He'd never been able to understand the pleasure you gave him, but tonight it was tenfold. He'd been needing this from the moment he'd been forced away from you.

Memories of previous times flooded his mind.

You'd beg him to touch you on an almost daily basis, having no trouble in seducing him into a shower together or into waking up a little earlier so you could have your way with him. You'd get on your knees on particularly difficult days, would get on all fours for him when you wanted him to exhaust his frustrations, would lay on your back, legs open any time you were craving him, cry his name when he'd crawl between your legs, nosing his way to your clit.

He was well acquainted with your body, and you were an expert with his.

He came in your mouth with a pained groan, heaving at the release he'd been unknowingly chasing for months.

Letting himself fall back on the bed, he startled a bit when you crawled on him, not even needing to ask before your mouth chased his, licking his taste right into his mouth.

"Taste so good, baby. Missed you so much." again, you mumbled it against his lips. He moaned in agreement.

"I missed you too."

-

He fell asleep in your arms after that. You held him, then he held you, then it became a confusing mess of limbs on your bed.

You didn't have a bed frame, nor a stand. You laid on a simple mattress that almost touched the floor, but Andrew was already set on remedying that as soon as you got the rest he'd robbed you of. He'd build all the furniture he'd seen boxed in your living room, buy you anything else you were missing. If this was where you wanted to live, then he'd make a home of it for you, hoping that maybe you'd let him join you.

He'd woken up in the middle of the night with you cuddled up against him, hands greedy for once as they pulled you even closer, as his hips rolled into yours and arose you from sleep so he could find a home inside you once more.

You moaned, your back against him, sighing out his name, making him dizzy as you always did. You'd cried at some point, from pleasure, from having him back and inside you, as close as humanly possible.

He'd wanted to cry too, but he kissed your skin instead, remaining a solid foundation for you to exhaust your pent up emotions, the sadness he knew you'd felt at thinking he'd just given up on you, forgotten you.

"I don't want you to leave." you lamented the next morning.

He shook his head. "I'll stay as long as you want me."

He felt you smile against him, hands constantly caressing his skin, playing with his hair.

He told you about Smurf then. Told you it was a secret, that Deran couldn't know just yet.

He was conflicted about it, so you held him. It was uncertain what would happen, but you told him you'd be there regardless. That if he wanted to stay back home, you understood. That you trusted him, even if Angela was still in the house.

But he shook his head again, asking if you'd stay with him when he went back.

And even though Andrew knew your answer would be yes, he still felt overwhelmed with gratitude when you assured him once again.

➽──────────────────❥

"Can I go see your match?"

You were unloading your overnight bag. You'd packed a few changes of clothes, a few essentials you'd just leave at the Cody house, realizing you'd probably stay here quite often anyways.

Andrew had driven you guys back to Smurf's, glaring at her when she'd scoffed at your sudden appearance behind him when he went back to the house the next morning.

"She stays or I leave." he'd threatened, and that had been that.

When you asked to see his match, his demeanor immediately closed off. He became avoidant, looking down instead of at your eyes like he always insisted on doing. His intense gaze felt short, his body tense and uncomfortable.

"I don't really want you to see me like that. It's- it's gonna be bad."

You frowned. Even if you understood, you still wanted to go see him. This was something he was forced into, something he had only picked back up as a destructive coping mechanism, and you wanted to at least be there to show support as he did it. Maybe try to phase him out of it over time.

"I can handle a little blood." you reassured, taking his hand. "You don't scare me, Andrew. You never have."

His lip curled up a little, hand squeezing yours in return.

He drove you to the cage fight, still tense as he drove, but calming down whenever your hand would reach out and lay on his thigh, soothing him with your touch. Silent support was all you could offer him, but you knew it helped nonetheless.

When you arrived, you kissed him good luck, patting his shoulder in a supportive manner as you went to your seat, front row in front of the make-shift cage standing in the middle. It was some grimy parking lot, empty in the daylight and hidden away enough that there was no risk of cops busting up the place. A small crowd of men gathered there, exchanging words of contempt as they risked high amounts of money on their bets.

Andrew was a popular fighter to bet on — for obvious reasons.

As you sat there, prepared to watch him fight, posture tense and worried, you spotted someone right across the other side of the cage.

It was a familiar face. One you hadn't met face-to-face thus far, but one you'd heard of, seen in passing.

It was Angela.

She'd been gone when you arrived at the Cody house this morning. You'd been glad, already holding a dislike for her. It wasn't a necessarily fair dislike, but you couldn't help feeling territorial over Andrew, very protective of his emotional safety — perhaps jealous too.

The match was quite short, most of which you watched with a worried look in your eyes, not enjoying any moment in which Andrew didn't have the upper hand. Meanwhile, you could see Angela from the opposite side, smiling with a satisfied glint in her eye at all the violence. Her piercing blue eyes observed every move, her lip curving up at every bloody exchange. You already wanted her gone.

Andrew limped towards you by the end, received by a hug from you despite his insistence that he was too bloody for you to put your hands on him. You didn't care, hands finding his torso anyway and caressing his cheekbone after feeding him some cold water.

During that entire exchange, you could see Angela watching you from a distance, an inquisitive look in her eyes before she made her way towards you.

"Hey, Pope."

"Angela. I didn't know you'd be here." he muttered. He looked uncomfortable, looking back and forth between the two of you with furrowed brows.

"Heard about it from someone. Thought I'd check it out." she smiled, confident. "Who's this?" she asked, nodding towards you, though her eyes remained on Andrew.

You gave her your name. "I'm Andrew's girlfriend."

"This is my girlfriend I told you about." he added, still stiff and out of place. His breath was still a little stilled from the physical exertion.

"Oooh, 'Andrew'? He doesn't like it when people like him that. That's reserved for Smurf."

You shrugged, antipathic. "I'm sure you'd know."

Both your tones were sarcastic and biting. You shared saccharine smiles, too sweet to be genuine. She looked to Pope with a smug look in her eye before looking back to you.

"I'll see you at home, Pope. It was nice meeting you." she nodded to you, hands in the pockets of her large jacket before beginning to turn away.

When she left, you remained quiet, annoyed but feeling completely inadequate at your frustration. Andrew had done nothing wrong, and really, Angela hadn't either. But meeting her really didn't help. She didn't inspire any sort of positive feelings in you. You didn't trust her.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't know she'd be here." he apologized after some silence.

"Don't apologize. It's fine, Andrew. Let's just get you home so I can clean you up."

➽──────────────────❥

The rest of your week had become more eventful than you'd hoped.

Andrew received a call from Deran in the middle of the night. Some emergency that needed Andrew's attention, ASAP. Despite your insistence to accompany him, he declined, kissing your forehead as he headed out.

It worried you, whatever Derran was going through with Adrian. But he wanted to deal with it alone, and your focus was too occupied by Andrew as of late.

When he came back late into the night, he'd been a little altered. It must've been a genuine emergency, one not even your best friend entrusted you with. And knowing how insistent Andrew was in not keeping you implicated of their more extreme rendezvous, you chose not to question him.

A few days later, Andrew was gone again. He'd seemingly given up cage boxing for now, going back to orchestrated jobs with his brothers and planning one at some music festival this same week.

You continued to dislike the danger Deran, Andrew and their family kept putting themselves through, but you remained supportive nonetheless. You'd offer your assistance if necessary, but they preferred to keep you out of it whenever possible.

It was better if you stayed home if things went awry. Just in case.

And things just so happened to go awry this time around.

He'd made no noise arriving home. The only reason you really spotted him had been because you headed into the restroom before heading to bed, hoping to stay up for Andrew as you waited there.

You'd found him in the hallway, one arm leaning against the wall while the other gripped onto his abdomen in pain. His breath was heavy, trying not to make too much noise, likely not wanting to wake you.

"Andrew? Holy shit. What happened?" you rushed to him, hands going to his arms and helping guide him so he could sit on the side of the tub.

You closed the bathroom door behind you, aware Angela was likely somewhere in the house and not wanting her to barge in on you.

Andrew didn't speak, still dry heaving and in shock. His arm wouldn't unwrap from his torso, holding onto what was likely a deeper injury than those gashes covering his arm.

There was blood all over him, deep lacerations all across the length of his arms and blood seeping through the black fabric of his shirt. His hair was also dampened, slightly bloody, but with only a few superficial cuts on his skull.

"Wait right here." you said as you rushed to the cupboard for some first aid supplies, rushing back to him right after. "Let me lift this- Fuck, Andrew ..."

Under his shirt you found deep lacerations, glass piercing the hardened skin of his abdomen. There were about eight or ten of those, bloody and still exposed.

With some tweezers, you closed in on him, ready to remove them as painlessly as possible.

"This is gonna hurt a little, okay?"

He called your name, speaking for the first time since he'd arrived, calling your attention as you dampened some pads with hydrogen peroxide in order to clean the blood away. You needed the wounds clean before you could even attempt to suture them.

"The job went bad."

You focused gaze went from his injuries and to his eyes, finding a worried look on his face.

"It's okay, baby. It's okay."

-

The guys gathered at home after that, all angry at J due to some mishap, his plan going wrong because some old enemies of his had dropped in, attacked them, stolen their score. Tensions were high, and they only continued to arise the following day when Smurf returned, with all the boys now aware of her condition after Andrew had let it slip the previous night.

A new job was coming, one in which Smurf insisted on attending. A party would be thrown as a preemptive celebration of what was to come. It would all be happening within the next few days.

Everyone was dealing with their own shit.

Deran had issues with Adrian, something about smuggling drugs during his surfing tour, needing a quick escape that Deran felt an obligation to sponsor. He'd confided this with you when he stopped by the house after the failed job, but you couldn't help but be worried that his family would get implicated somehow.

Meanwhile, Craig's ex, Renn, had just given birth to his son, who he didn't know was his until the last minute. Andrew was still dealing with Angela and her fight for sobriety, sure that she'd been lying to him about her whereabouts during the past few days, now having flashbacks of memories with Julia.

The day of the party, you watched as Andrew chased Angela around as she arrived high out of her mind. He dragged her, dropping her in the bathroom and locking her in. The look on his eyes had been one of fury when he turned around and went back to you, but you offered no judgment. You knew he'd found himself forced to do this to Julia multiple times while they were teens. If anything, you felt for him.

The next day, Andrew asked for your help as he freed Angela, deciding he'd be dropping her off at a meeting and wanting your support as he did so. You were mostly a silent participant, taking note of the looks of disdain Angela would throw you as you stood back and let Andrew take charge.

Arriving at the backroom of some empty school Andrew led Angela inside, with you trailing behind a few steps, arms on your elbows as you took in your surroundings.

She attempted to run away from Andrew, but she'd only been forced back in, pushed and dragged by Andrew until she marched petulantly to the socratic circle in the middle, taking a seat within it while you and Andrew sat all the way back, sitting by the door and ensuring she wouldn't try and leave.

"Thanks for coming with me." Andrew mumbled to you when Angela had taken her seat.

"'Course." you smiled lightly at him.

The conversation began, with a middle-aged woman standing in the middle of the circle, leading the discussion.

Suddenly, Angela interrupted, raising her hand and standing up.

"Cool if I talk first?" there was a crazy look in her eye. It'd been there since last night when she'd arrived at the party high, had stayed there when Andrew had forced her into the car and into the AA meeting.

"Uh, of course." responded the woman.

"So, we all say secrets keep you sick." Angela began. "That's why we're here, right? To be honest so we can get better? That's what you want, right?" she looked directly at Andrew when she spoke, eyes completely sunken and devoid of emotion.

"Honesty?" she continued.

Andrew shuffled uncomfortably in his chair, but kept his stoic eyes on Angela. You did too.

"Okay." she sighed. "Showed up at an old friend's house. Her name was Julia. But I wasn't really looking for her. I already knew she was dead. I found out when I was in prison." her every word had bite to it, bitter to the core as she eyed Andrew with disdain.

You weren't sure how to react. You could see Andrew from your peripheral, sitting next to you and completely stiff.

"I was really looking for her mother and her money. Julia's mother used to give her stacks of cash to stay away. I was hoping she'd do the same for me."

For the first time, Andrew's eyes dropped. He didn't know about this. Didn't know Smurf kept Julia away by bribing her. Much less did he know Angela had been lying this whole time. His body language told you so.

"Julia's brother was there too. He's 40, and he still lives at home with his mom." she snickered, hands on her hips in defiance. "How weird is that, right?"

You were fuming by now. Andrew had been fuming since the beginning, but your anger was unmatched. You wanted to get up and get him out of here, go home, throw all of Angela's shit out and drag her out of the door if she dared come back. But Andrew remained still, stagnant as he continued listening.

"He liked me." she continued. "So, I kissed him. 'Cause I figured he'd let me stay." she looked at you during that bit, smirking when your mouth opened slightly. "Said he had a girlfriend, but I didn't care. It was all a con. And he fell for it."

"Thanks for letting me share." she sat back down after that, arms crossing while all other attendees sat uncomfortably.

You hadn't noticed, but Andrew was looking at you now. Your eyes had gravitated to the hardwood floor under you, your hands gripping the edge of the chair. Andrew's eyes had completely left Angela, focusing on you instead.

Had you looked at him, you would've noticed the panicked look in his eyes. You would've noticed the way his diaphragm expanded and contracted his chest deeply, rapidly as he looked to you with intense worry.

But you didn't see any of that, nor did you allow yourself a chance to when you got up abruptly, marching out of there without looking back.

If Andrew ran after you, you weren't paying attention. If he yelled your name, your ears were ringing too loud for you to register the sound. And if he begged for you to stay, to let him explain himself, well, you simply didn't care.

➽──────────────────❥

You arrived at your apartment after about an hour.

Andrew had driven you to his house before driving the three of you to the school for the meeting, so you had to resort to taking the bus back home.

The route took longer than expected, which made you groan internally. All it meant was that you'd probably find Andrew waiting for you at your front door before you could even arrive there yourself.

And as expected, he was there as you arrived, sticking out like a sore thumb in the small hallway as he sat, back perched against your front door and knees raised slightly. He was bouncing his leg, his fingers were rubbing at each other, all clear indicators of the anxiety he must've felt as he sat there and waited for you.

He looked like a kicked puppy. Made you worry as you heard him mumbling, head down as if he was scolding himself, punishing himself in advance for the punishment he must've thought was to come from you.

It was hard not to feel for him as you watched him sitting there, knowing he must've ran after you, out of his mind with fear when you'd stormed out and ignored his every call of your name. Every call to your phone was equally ignored on your way home.

You sighed, keys already in hand as you walked to the door. When he felt your presence, he immediately stood up, eyes filled with worry, but you still wouldn't meet them head-on. You knew that as soon as you looked at him, he'd try to explain, that you'd give in and not even allow yourself to the anger you very much felt like you deserved.

It had been just a kiss. But it'd been a kiss he hadn't told you about, with a girl he'd told you not to worry about. You'd been lied to, kept in the dark, all while you stayed and waited and cried over him, impatient for the day in which his unfavorable circumstances would allow for the two of you to be together again.

But how could you even compete? How, when this girl was an extension to Julia?

You knew how much Andrew loved Julia. You'd heard about it from Deran, Craig, but mostly from Andrew himself. The bits and pieces of his youth he'd given you always broke you, always made you cry in his arms at how badly you wished you could prevent him from every heartbreak he'd lived through at the hands of his mom, at the hands of the mental health issues that went untreated and exploited from the moment he'd been born.

But to compete with a girl who reminded him of his first greatest love, Julia Cody, was just impossible. It'd been why you'd been worried in the first place, green with envy but not admitting it even to yourself.

He said a faltered 'hey' as you approached your door, earning no response.

You walked into your apartment without acknowledging him, leaving the door open and turning back to nod at him when you realized he wouldn't come in unless you explicitly asked him to.

Even then, he stood awkwardly in your living room, like a dog with its tail between its legs. The small space felt even smaller with the tension. The tension was created by you, by your blatant bad mood at that moment, but you couldn't help yourself.

Andrew had never once inspired any anger in you. He'd always been a person who offered you comfort without meaning to, someone you ached to provide with nothing but your utmost affection. It was conflicting, really, being angry but feeling guilty by your own anger.

"I'm sorry." he broke the silence.

You sighed, sitting heavily on your small couch. He continued to stand there, his demeanor closed off but silently pleading.

"Please say something."

"I don't know what to say."

And you didn't.

Andrew wasn't the cheating type. He'd never look at another girl even if she threw herself at him, naked and wanting. But your main issue had been who the girl was. Who the girl that he'd let get close to him was.

Andrew took some brave steps towards you, finding himself at the foot of the couch before kneeling in front of you. His hands were hesitant as they held onto your legs for comfort, face pressing against your knees and breathing in deeply.

"Please."

You couldn't see his eyes anymore. His forehead laid against the hardness of your knees, his hands wrapped lightly around each respective calf of yours. He was shaking slightly, body moving with each shaky breath he took.

"Please, I cant-" he whimpered after some silence. "I'm sorry. You're the only- you're the only person who loves me." he breathed out. "I'm sorry. Please."

Tears welled in your eyes. Your hand reached out to his hair, petting it, soothingly running through his damp curls. He must've ran here.

Your heart broke for him.

"I didn't kiss her." he spoke again. "I pushed her away. Please believe me."

"Sit up, Andrew." you said, eyes avoidant of the boy knelt in front of you.

He only shook his head, still buried on your knees, face completely out of your view.

You insisted again, hands attempting to pull at his shoulders to no avail.

"Andrew, please come sit with me."

He did as you asked then, taking a seat next to you on your small couch. His bloodshot eyes looked to you, but his usually erect posture was crooked, his hands nervously playing with each other until your hands wrapped around his in an attempt to calm him down.

Such heavy emotions all at once were never good for him. Medicated or not, Andrew needed more mental stability. You didn't want to cause him any turmoil.

You realized that you shouldn't have ran off. Andrew had never once given you any reason not to trust him, and so you should've at least given him a chance. Even if you were hurt.

"Did it mean anything to you?"

"No." he shook his head.

"Do you- do you like her?"

"No." this time it was said with more conviction. "I only like you."

This made your lip curl up slightly, hand squeezing his.

"I'm sorry for running off like that."

"I- I understand." he mumbled. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Why didn't you?" you felt dumb in asking, but you still did.

"I didn't want to hurt you. I didn't want it to happen."

You understood. Sort of.

If you were ever in a similar situation, you knew it'd destroy Andrew. When his heart was in something, it was completely in it, and you knew that even an accidental kiss would be enough to break him apart.

"Is Angela still staying at your house?"

You knew the answer. But you still wanted to hear it from him.

"She's gone. She said Smurf offered 10 grand for her to go away when she first got there. I gave them to her and she left."

That surprised you.

You hadn't planned on asking him to kick her out. This was important to him, creating a blatant parallel to Julia's situation for him. But you still found yourself feeling relief at her newfound absence.

"You didn't have to do that."

"Yes I did." he was serious as he said it. "I should've done it earlier. I'm sorry."

You nodded, smiling at him softly, eyes puffing.

"Will you stay the night?"

"Can I?"

You nodded, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Yeah. I really want you to."

-

"Are you guys leaving with Smurf tomorrow?" you asked him once settled in your room.

"Yeah."

He was currently standing over your vanity, screwing in some drawers that'd been lying on the floor the last time he was here. You hadn't finished setting up the place, something you knew probably made him antsy, so you didn't mind that he went straight to work when you led him to your room. It soothed him, and settled in bed, you watched him.

"Do you know where you're going yet?"

"She won't tell us." he shrugged. "I'm kinda worried about her."

"There's nothing you can do. You know how she is."

He agreed silently, fumbling with the very limited amount of tools you had laying around the floor.

"Wanna get in bed with me now?"

He looked to you for a moment, looking to the screwdriver on his hand and the remaining drawer still on the floor. It usually bothered him when things were left incomplete, but you also knew he must've been exhausted after today. And maybe you wanted to selfishly get him in bed with you.

"Okay."

Scooting over slightly, you made space for him, laying on your side and holding up the blanket for him to get under. He laid opposite to you, on his side and facing you. You curled into each other, but not entirely. There was still some space between you, but as your arms laid in front of you, they touched.

"Get closer." you mumbled.

And he did, legs tangling with yours under the thin blanket.

"Are you angry with me?" his face was blank, but you knew him enough to see some remnants of worry there.

"I'm not. I think I might've overreacted. I didn't realize I was this jealous until now." you chuckled quietly to yourself.

"You're not jealous." he rebutted. "You had some ... very valid concerns."

You chuckled again, hand reaching his cheek as you simultaneously scoot even closer, eradicating any remaining distance between you.

"I am jealous. I'm glad Angela's gone. I'm not sure what I would've done next time I saw her."

"Really? Like, you would have fought her?"

You nodded. "She's been to prison. She probably would've beat my ass. But it would've been out of principle."

His lip curled up a little. "I wouldn't have let her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

By then the distance between you was completely gone. His hands had landed on your hips at some point, your leg perched over his waist and your lips within mere centimeters of each other.

You kissed him first, hands pulling him to you by his hair. He was grateful for it.

Molding your body to his, your chest pressed against him, the fabric of your shorts easily riding up and your tank top practically useless in covering you up. Andrew's hands laid mostly static, but wherever he touched, he found bare skin. He wore his boxers and no shirt, not having any overnight clothes at your new place just yet, but really doing you a favor is his borderline nudity.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked when you pulled away to catch your breath.

"Yeah. Get closer." and you kissed him again, rolling over so you'd be on top of him, straddling him as your body folded over his upper half.

He sighed deeply, hands reaching the ends of your hair and tracing them softly.

He was overcome by you, by the way in which you took over every single one of his senses. Your thighs trapped him, pressed against his torso while you held yourself over him, making him half-wish that you'd just let your entire body weight fall on him. He needed to exist within you.

His lips were quite well acquainted with yours by now, knowing the dance shared between them. You never failed to kiss him in a way that made his breath falter, but that was specially the case tonight. Your hips scoot down a little, now directly above his crotch and grinding in the same slow and sensual rhythm as your kiss.

A sigh was released against him when his hips followed yours, hands pressing against your lower back to aid you in your movements. With legs planted on the mattress beneath him, Andrew used it as leverage to fuck into you, dick still trapped in his pants but itching for the friction.

When you pulled away, he held onto your hair, pushing it out of your face so he could see you. You looked down at him, eyes lazy and hooded, filled with lust he still couldn't bring himself to understand. No matter how many times you looked at him in such a way, his brain was still unable to wrap itself around it, his body unknowing of how to handle it.

Your lips traced his own, opening and closing against his but never completing the kiss. He'd try and follow you, only to have you pull away just enough for your lips to trace his, but never touch.

"Tell me you're mine." you whispered, finally giving him a singular open-mouthed kiss.

He didn't need to say it for it to be real. It was real in everything he did, but having you hover above him, demanding confirmation made him shiver, it made his hands grip your hips even harder, his breath stutter and his lips twitch as they ached for yours on his.

"I'm yours."

You kissed him again, this time as an attack, this time deep and wet, robbing him of all his oxygen.

"Again." you mumbled between kisses. "Tell me again."

His arms wrapped around your back, hips humping into yours desperately now. "I'm yours."

You moaned brokenly at that, gyrating against him with abandon.

"Yeah? You're mine?" you whined, mouth open, trying to kiss him but only able to get a few licks against his tongue by then.

He nodded frantically. He could feel the end come, could feel how pent up he'd been these past few days and how easily you were able to rid him of it all.

"That's good." you were breathless. "Cause- cause I'm yours, Andrew. Always."

The words were barely comprehensible, with breathless whines filling up the room. Both yours and his own.

But still, those words were enough for his eyes to roll back, for his back to arch as he finished in his boxers, hips frantic as they attacked yours, pistoning upwards as you continued grinding gratuitously into him. When your orgasm followed his, he kept up his grinding, too overcome with the sounds you made at the stimulation to care about how sensitive he felt by then.

You practically deflated against him after that, landing straight against his chest and finally supporting your entire body weight on him. It felt comforting to him, his arms wrapping around you and bringing you even closer, not caring at that moment for the fluids swimming between your clothes.

He rolled you onto your side after a while, making his way to your restroom to hunt for some damp rags to clean you with, even carrying you to and from the toilet so you could pee, huffing when you giggled sleepily and insisted you could make the trek on your own.

When you laid again on your too-small bed together, Andrew laid his head on your chest, humming at the way in which your fingers immediately found themselves tangled in his hair. This was your most common habit around him. You couldn't help yourself in it, and Andrew couldn't really exist without that comforting touch anymore.

"I'm thinking of getting a cat." you spoke into the comfortable silence.

"Yeah?"

You hummed. "What do you think?"

"I had a cat once."

"Really? Saw you as more of a dog guy."

He turned to press his nose into your skin, breathing deep. "His name was Tank. Something happened to him. Julia got mad at me over it. Thought I did it."

A noise left your mouth, one of annoyance, maybe indignance.

"You'd never hurt an animal." you said as fact. "Do you think this place's big enough for the two of us and a cat?"

He froze for a second, hands standing still on your back, stopping the soothing back and forth they'd been doing down the length of your back.

You wanted him to move in. You'd said it, once again, as fact.

"You want me to move in?" he almost whispered.

"Of course I do." you scooted down, burying your face in his curls, kissing them, breathing them in. "There's a skate park nearby, which I thought you'd like. We can go and you can teach me to skate sometime."

He didn't say anything for a while, a little overwhelmed, opting to kiss your sternum instead.

"You really wanna get a cat?" he asked after some silence.

"Yeah. It can be like our first kid together."

He could hear the smile in your voice. And he couldn't help himself in smiling against you too.

"I used to have one a few years back. My ex stole it."

He pursed his lips when you said that, fingers flexing.

"Do you want it back?"

"What, you'd get her back for me?" you giggled.

"I'd do anything you asked."

He'd circle back to this eventually. For now, he listened to you giggle, tease and call him your white knight as you played with his hair and kissed his forehead.

➽──────────────────❥

Things moved very fast after that.

The Cody's came back from their job.

Without Smurf.

Andrew told you ever detail between badly held-back tears. Told you about how they went to his uncle's ranch, a doomsday freak he'd never even met before. Told you about his father's burial site, the pictures of Colin Cody he'd never seen before, about the way in which Smurf took on a suicide mission, hoping to die on the job and losing her mind when Andrew rescued her.

He told you about the way in which she held a gun to him, threatening to kill him if he didn't finish the job — if he didn't kill her. She claimed she was already dead, that she refused to turn senile and die of cancer.

But Andrew was ready to die by her hand rather than kill her. The only way in which he'd been able to survive was due to J, who was willing (and perhaps happy) to shoot Smurf down before she could take out Andrew.

Conflicted, he tried to navigate her death. And you were equally as conflicted, feeling guilty at the relief you felt at her absence, hating her due to the damage she'd done to her sons, most of all to Andrew and J's mom. The guys seemed to feel a similar type of conflict in their mourning, all looking at J with disdain due to his actions, yet also seemingly grateful for it.

Within a few days, the world of connections Smurf had formed throughout her life began falling down. It left the guys having to fend for themselves, being set up for failure by Smurf (something done by design). And so you found yourself at yet another party in the Cody house, one meant as a goodbye to Smurf and as a way for the guys to show everyone else who was in charge now — a democracy formed by all four of them.

At this party, you and Andrew found out about Deran's departure. Billy had let it slip as he berated you and Andrew, telling you that last he'd seen Deran, he'd been packing. This sent you and Andrew running to Deran's new apartment, worried he'd leave unannounced and you'd miss out on a goodbye.

The two of you showed up, catching a conflicted Deran getting out of his car.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Andrew took lead. "You knew Adrian was talking to the cops, didn't you?"

You didn't know about this. This was probably why Andrew had received an emergency call by Deran a few days ago, why Deran had been so off lately.

"You've been protecting him. I know it."

Deran looked defensive. "Well, that's not true."

"Well, I didn't think so. Then Billy shows up. He says you're leaving town. So it starts making sense."

Deran looked to you then, guilty as he averted his eyes.

"They got him on a drug charge, okay? They threatened him with 20 years. And they offered him immunity, but he didn't take it, okay?"

Andrew looked down pensively.

"So you're skipping town with him?" you asked.

"What do you guys want me to do? He can't go to- he can't go to prison, man."

"No, he can't." Andrew shook his head.

He'd blab in prison. He'd be forced to. And then the Cody empire would end, leading to a series of arrests of every remaining Cody man.

"I'm getting him out of town tonight." Deran sighed. "I'm gonna get him set up down there, and ... I'll be back in a couple of weeks, all right?"

"No, you won't." Andrew shook his head. "You've been trying to get away from us since you were a kid."

"I get it." Andrew exhaled, looking to you for a brief moment before looking back to Deran. You could see the sadness in his eyes, the thought of his brother finally going away piling on top of the loss of his mom. "If I could start over again, a chance to be normal, I'd do it too."

"But I am who I am." Andrew's voice broke, hand coming up to pat at Deran's shoulder affectionally, harder than he meant to, but letting the emotions take over. "But you ..." He hugged him then, petting his hair, sniffling as Deran sighed sadly. "I'll miss you."

You took your turn after he let go, hugging Deran, holding him for a few beats longer than necessary. "Good luck, Deran. We'll be here waiting if you ever come back." you smiled at him sadly.

"You could join us one day." his eyes were swelling with tears by then, but he wouldn't cry. "Y'know, get him out of here someday, meet me and Adrian." he smiled sadly as you nodded.

"Maybe some day."

➽──────────────────❥

In the end, Deran didn't leave.

The next day, you found him at the Cody house when you woke up. He'd been heartbroken over his breakup with Adrian, not being able to bring himself to leave his family behind and earning himself an ultimatum from Adrian.

Meanwhile, you stayed home with Andrew, mostly lounging in bed as he still processed Smurf's death.

And while he dealt with her passing, he found himself doubting his trust in J more and more by the passing day. He'd even kicked him out before they'd ventured off on Smurf's secret job, but he'd had to push that aside when they came back, with J being the only family member aware of how to deal with Smurf's finances, with the illegal money laundering they all depended on.

But he still felt broken. Holding onto the box possessing all of Smurf's ashes, he gripped it as he sat at the edge of his bed, you sitting next to him, head on his shoulder, arms hooked to his own.

He felt like he couldn't trust anyone, like there was nothing he could truly hold on to. Like everything would end up abandoning him, lying to him and leaving him behind in the process.

And you knew this.

From Smurf's constant lies throughout his life, to J's deception about his connection to Angela's relapse, and Deran's lies about Adrian's relationship with the police, you knew that Andrew was not in a good place. His trust had been broken again and again, facing deception back to back and with the constant risk of his loved ones leaving him behind.

"I'll never leave you, Andrew." you voiced into the quiet of the room, kissing his shoulder. "Wherever you go, I go."

His head turned to the side, kissing your hair silently.

Chapter Text

The shit the guys had stolen from Andrew's uncles' ranch was beginning to cause problems.

Not only had Smurf's job been a lie to orchestrate her own death, but it had also been some sort of revenge plan against Andrew's uncle for some old feud they'd shared back before Andrew and Julia had first been born.

The only issue was that Andrew's extended family appeared to be just as insane as the Cody's themselves.

After Smurf had died, they'd made it their life's mission to get back the almost-million dollars worth of shit the Cody's had taken from them. They'd call their cells constantly, somehow finding out their numbers and that of their burners. And with time, they'd even gone as far as heading to Oceanside and raiding some of Smurf's secret properties, some of which even the guys were unaware of.

When things got too heavy, Andrew decided to take charge and orchestrate a meeting, corral them and offer them their shit back as long as they left Oceanside and never came back.

But in the end, even this deal went awry, with Andrew's cousins playing up the deal during the daylight, receiving their shit back from the Cody's before raiding their house that same night, catching them off guard. Deran had ended up getting his shoulder shot, having to deal with the police showing up at the house while the rest of you ran off with the bodies of those of Andrew's cousins the guys had managed to fight off, leaving a sole survivor — one that by Andrew's own admission, he'd let go out of mercy.

And while the guys dealt with Smurf's will, with the newfound knowledge that she'd left them out, had given all her assets to some woman named Pamela Johnson that they'd never met, you stayed behind with Andrew.

He'd enter a manic state at nights, one that you'd unknowingly sleep through most days. Although not by choice, you'd been unaware of the first few times in which Andrew dissociated, acting as an unknown presence within himself that even he'd been unaware of.

It all began escalating once you'd gone to Smurf's burial plot with Andrew — the plot she'd bought for the entire family and the place in which Julia and Baz currently resided. He'd broken down in front of the plot manager, insisting she needed to be buried there despite her having been cremated, later sneaking in with you that night so he could do it himself. He'd cried then, cried as you held him, as he held the box containing her ashes and eventually going home, giving up on his plan.

When you awoke the next morning, he'd been gone, with you finding him passed out by the pool covered in Smurf's ashes, the rest found scattered in the water. You gasped at his state, unaware of what'd happened and waking him up in the process.

"I- I don't know how this happened." he'd mumbled in a dizzy state.

"It's okay, we can try and gather as much of the ashes as we can find after we clean you up." you offered as a solution. Not a great one, but you didn't want him to feel guilty for something that'd happened that he had no control over.

You helped him wash off the ashes in the shower, offering silent support and allowing him to avert his eyes.

He was mortified, couldn't look at you straight on and feeling insane at the way in which he'd behaved. He'd always had a fear of showing that side of himself to you, paranoid that you'd see the real him and run straight for the hills. You were a big reason as to why he allowed Smurf to drug him with the antipsychotics he'd always hated taking. And now he couldn't remember the last time he'd had some.

Meanwhile, Deran dealt with the depression that accompanied his breakup with Adrian. You tried to be there for him, but being a Cody man, it was nearly impossible for him to let you in when he was so vulnerable. Trying to aid in the wounded feelings of two Cody men proved to be practically impossible, but still, you persevered, making yourself as available as possible to them both.

At some point in your relationship with Andrew, he began to quietly take care of your rent. Part-timing your stay at your new apartment and Smurf's place, Andrew had begun to pay for both halves of your now shared apartment, huffing in denial when you offered paying at least some percentage. Andrew also made it a habit of depositing copious amounts of cash into your bank account, never acknowledging your refutes with anything more than a grunt. It was safe to say that you weren't in need of cash, so your plans to go back to full-time nursing were sent to the backburner in favor of being more present in both Andrew and Deran's lives.

But even with your presence, Andrew continued to spiral.

He disappeared on you for the first time last night, leading you to waking up to an empty bed, rushing all around Smurf's in search for him. Calling his brothers and nephew proved futile, as they lost track of him far more frequently than you found acceptable.

It wasn't until a few hours later in which you were called over to the hospital, being told that Andrew had been found wandering around, knocking on doors desperately as he spoke to himself.

When you arrived, you found him sitting on a hospital bed, staring blankly at a wall. Sitting there, you watched him for a moment before taking the few steps left to make your presence known. You didn't want to spook him, still unsure of what'd happened to him.

"Hey." you called his attention.

He turned around, eyes slightly widened, eyebrows lifted.

"Oh. Hey." he mumbled. "What are you ... what are you doing here?"

His voice sounded distant.

"They called me. Heard you could use a ride." you offered.

Andrew nodded as he looked down, lips pursed.

You made the rest of the way over to his bed, sitting beside him. Your hand subtly reached over to his, hoping he'd be willing to accept some physical touch.

Although he appeared a little mortified by your presence, maybe even embarrassed that you'd shown up, found him in this state. There had been previous discussions between you, hushed late at night after you'd shared intimacy you'd only ever really known with each other, vulnerable moments in which he'd tell you about his insecurities. He'd tell you about his childhood, how easy it was for his fuse to blow, for him to lose all control and scare people away. He'd whisper these words, look away from you and tell you how scared he was you'd someday see him lose his inhibitions, see a side of him he was ashamed of.

But still, he let you hold his hand, not tightening his hold on yours but running his thumb on your skin.

"Are you hurt?"

He shook his head. "Just a scrape." he mumbled when you gestured to the small gash on his forehead.

"You worried me there, Andrew."

"I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize." you squeezed his hand. "Just want you to know there's someone who worries when you're gone."

He didn't respond, instead blinking hard a couple of times before looking to you again.

"They, uh, they want me to stay."

"Yeah? You wanna stay?"

He shook his head, getting up and leading you up along with him.

His mood was off. It reminded you of that time in which you'd bumped into him and Amy at the church. Frustration radiated off him, as if he didn't want you to see him like this, angry at himself for putting you in this situation.

You didn't mind it. You never had. And you wished that he'd be secure in that fact. But you'd still tag along even if he closed himself up, even if his grieving process was irregular and volatile. The alternative — sitting back, leaving him behind — made you sick, had you losing appetite at the thought of him fighting all this alone.

And so you drove him back to his truck, back to the neighborhood in which he'd left it.

When you tried to probe a little, ask questions, voice your worries, he wasn't too perceptive, shutting down any possible help instead.

"They go to school for all that shit, I guess." he huffed as you looked for the neighborhood he'd been picked up at. "That's how they get in your head, you know? Press on things."

"You mean the psychologist?"

One had spoken to him at the hospital. He'd told you as much when you first got in the car.

"Yeah, they can really get you."

It's not like you'd expected Andrew to be open about such a subject. From what you'd guessed, Smurf probably fed him with lies about therapy, making him feel inadequate when he felt his brain not work the same as other kids, when he couldn't process his emotions in the same way as everyone else. He'd grown like this, completely detached from his own emotions and being raised into what Smurf hoped to be a hollow machine that responded only to her. She'd ruined his love map, and gladly so.

Still, you tried to steer him in the right direction.

"That's not always the case." you started softly. "Sometimes talking to someone can help."

"I talk to you."

You smiled sadly. "Yeah, and I'm happy that you do. But sometimes you need to-"

"Stop the car. It's here." he interrupted, louder than the hushed voice he'd been speaking in all day.

"Andrew? Your car isn't here-"

But he'd already gotten out of the car, turning back to you before you could get off. He was usually insistent on opening your door, helping you off, but today he'd done something different.

"Stay in the car. Go. I'll find a way home."

He appeared distraught, a little distracted as he looked around the place, trying to place its familiarity.

"Andrew, wait-"

You were interrupted again, this time by a louder, more frustrated voice. He was angry.

"Go. I'll see you at home."

That shut you up, making you nod sadly at him before mumbling a quiet 'okay' to him. The 'take care' and 'please come home' stayed stuck in your mouth, unsure if he'd get angrier if you voiced them.

Sad, you drove off, far too worried to be leaving him behind, but not wanting to cause him enough stress to lose sense of time and place again. His life had been stressful enough as of late.

This was the first time Andrew had even risen his voice at you, the first time he'd ever looked to you with eyes that made you want to take a step back. Andrew had never once provoked anything other than comfort in you (worry at times, but from a place of love). This was foreign behavior from him, but you couldn't help but be more worried than hurt by it.

You went home, a little sad still, but understanding that Andrew's grief was just causing some misplaced frustration.

From the day you'd met Deran, you'd known Andrew to be more volatile than most, had been told by his younger brother about his moods and the unchecked mental health issues he clearly dealt with. You'd never minded any of these things, always willing to adjust and provide him with the acceptance he'd never received from anyone else.

It'd been long ago that Andrew told you about the pills Smurf would sneak into his food, embarrassed as he told you that he needed them, that his mood swings would become extreme and that he'd hear voices in his head when he didn't have them. Smurf had always had full control over them, and Andrew had never wanted anything to do with any of it all, feeling like he was a monster being tamed whenever he took them. But it'd been that same day that he admitted to taking them because of you, because he wanted to be fully present for you.

You wondered to yourself if he'd continued taking them after she'd died.

When you arrived home, you sighed at the party full of college freshmen going on in the backyard, walking over to Deran to complain about it.

"Yeah, I know, dude, you don't have to say anything." he waved you off before you could speak. "That kid's acting weird lately. Don't trust him." he said, referring to J.

"He's 19. Weird age to be. Specially with the lifestyle you guys have."

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Just pissed I gotta deal with all his shit." he grumbled, looking to the backyard with annoyance. "Just keep an eye out for him, okay?"

Those were his last words before he marched outside to talk to the kid himself. And though tensions were growing between Deran and J, you couldn't really bring yourself to care. They all had periods of time in which they hated one another. The tides would change eventually.

Not really wanting to hole yourself up in Andrew's room and unwilling to go outside and hang out with kids almost a decade younger than you, you sat on the steps leading to the sunken living room, elbows on your knees and palms scrunching your cheeks as you pressed your face on them.

You only sat there for a few minutes before you felt a presence beside you. You heard footsteps, taking note of that familiar gait you'd grown so used to, but keeping your eyes zeroed in on the floor in front of you.

The presence sat itself down beside you, groaning lightly at the feel of the hardwood material of the steps.

"Hey."

"You're back." you mumbled.

"Yeah."

Andrew stayed quiet for a minute, and so did you. Didn't really have much to say at that moment.

"I'm sorry about earlier."

He was looking at you as you continued to look forward. Even without looking at him, you could tell the difference in his demeanor. This time it was open, facing you and silently begging for you to do the same.

"It's okay."

You weren't really convinced as you said it.

"No, it's not." he sighed. "I keep ... I keep treating you like shit. You don't deserve that."

"I understand." And you really did. You were hurt, but that was only momentary.

"Can you look at me?"

You swallowed before turning your body to his, saddened by how tired he looked. He was probably not sleeping, having lost a few hours of consciousness every day this past week. The poor guy was likely staying up every night of the week, walking around and doing things without even realizing it.

"I'm sorry. I won't shut you out again."

You smiled lightly ay him, taking his hand, frowning when he flinched.

"I'm not angry, Andrew, okay? I promise."

"But you're sad, right? I made you sad."

"Just because I worry about you." you assured, squeezing his hand.

Then you felt the hospital wristband still on his wrist.

"Still got this on?"

He shrugged. "Didn't wanna rip it."

"Here, let me."

He offered you his wrist, something you knew he'd be too closed off to do so willingly with anyone else. Hell, maybe even with you earlier in the day.

"You just pull the tab." you said as you did so. "There's a bit of a trick to these things."

Once it was loosened, you gave it back to him, receiving a tiny curl of his upper lip in return. It was a start.

"You picking up more shifts at the hospital lately?"

Shaking your head, you stood up, with him following along.

"Not really. I'd rather be here with you more often, if that's okay with you."

"Of course it's okay."

His hand nudged yours then, taking hold of it and squeezing it once it was in his grasp. You walked towards the patio together, neutral and even leaning towards positive by then. But then Andrew spotted J on the other side of the glass, letting go of your hand as he marched towards him, steam practically coming out of his nose. Deran sat on the sidelines as you also stood there and watched.

"We should collect up her stuff, start scouting new jobs." J started before Andrew interrupted him, angry.

"You shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have shot her." he heaved. "You shot her right in front of us."

J didn't say anything as he walked away, giving up on a conversation with either of his uncles. Deran simply nodded at you, gesturing so you'd go get Andrew and maybe check on him. It was something you'd had done either way, but you appreciated that he at least cared enough to suggest it.

➽──────────────────❥

Over the next few days, Andrew continued to disappear every so often. He'd warn you about it beforehand, telling you that he needed to clear his head, stay out of the house after having been locked in for so long due to Smurf. You remained worried, but you accepted it, knowing that staying around and dealing with Smurf's will and state would only add on to his stressors, making it more likely for him to dissociate.

He'd come back every night, kiss your bare shoulder as he snuck into bed with you and tell you he loved you.

But you didn't mind his absence too much. If it was what he felt he needed to do as he navigated his mourning process, you understood.

Deran agreed when you brought up your grievances to him, telling you that Andrew had always had the habit of wandering off when things became too much. That it wasn't personal and that he'd never seen him eager to return back home as he always did with you.

In the meantime, J and Deran fought each other over leadership around the house, and since you lived there too, you found yourself having to back up your friend quite often. This didn't help you much in establishing a relationship with J, but you'd grown to realize he didn't seem to like anyone around the house very much. You joined Deran and Andrew in their suspicions of him.

Deran had gone off to meet Pamela a few days back, resulting in a call from her that same morning requesting a meeting with the family. Practically being a member at that point (living there with Andrew and having been around for over two years), Deran insisted you stay for lunch, claiming that maybe having a girl in the house would ease up whatever Pamela had planned. The fear of being kicked out and losing everything Smurf had accumulated over the years was ever so present.

When Andrew came back that day, Pamela revealed herself to have known Andrew as a kid, having taken care of him and Julia as children. The whole thing made Andrew uncomfortable, that much was clear to you. He ended up running off soon after, marching away and yelling out that he had something to do when J tried to stop him.

The guys had some job with Pamela to do. She'd forced her hand, claiming that if they helped her, she'd pass the state over to them.

But you didn't care.

Deran understood when you walked away that day, heading off to work so you could take your mind off things while Andrew ran off once again. He told you he'd call you when he came back, that he'd check on him if anything came up.

And when you got a call from Deran later that day, telling you about how Andrew snuck back into the house, rummaging through his room with clear indication he'd be leaving again soon, you clocked out as soon as you could and ran back to the Cody house.

"You're leaving?" you asked as you walked into what was now yours and Andrew's shared bedroom.

He was surprised as he looked up, moves faltering while he packed his duffel bag.

"I ... yeah. I- I thought you were at work."

"So, what, you were just going to leave without saying anything?"

"You don't understand. I need to leave." he reasoned, already becoming exasperated.

"Where do you plan to go?" you walked towards him, hands taking hold of his limp ones as they rested above a pile of clothes on his bed.

He let you hold onto him, but his body language remained closed-off. You were one of the only people who he opened himself up to, not only emotionally, but physically. You'd learned how to approach him in moments like this, with your touch usually aiding in allaying his nerves, but he'd been immune as of late.

"I don't know." he started, sniffling. "I'm confused. When I went to get my truck back, they said I'd been wandering around, knocking on doors ... looking for Julia." he looked to you then, bloodshot eyes and voice shot.

You inhaled, biting your lip to stop yourself from making any sound. Even if you were worried beyond belief, you didn't want to deter him from speaking. Your worries could take a backseat for the time being.

"I'm blacking out! I'm looking for ghosts!" he began losing control, voice raised. "I'm hearing voices! I'm hearing Smurf's voice in my head! Everywhere I look, I see her everywhere!"

His breath was heavy, chest caving as he tried to catch his breath. Now a few steps away from you, having begun to pace around the room as he avoided your eyes, losing control of himself the more than he spoke, he heaved.

The room felt heavy. As if a pin could drop and destroy everything. But you knew Andrew. You'd never seen him in such a state, but you knew him, had been there for him through many horrible experiences already and were determined to be there for this one too.

You took a few steps towards him as he cried, hands clenched in fists and eyes zeroed in on the floor. He sobbed, unable to hold himself back anymore.

"I can't stay." he cried as you stood in front of him.

"Hey." you cupped his face, making him look at you. "Listen to me. If you want to go, you can go." you swallowed. "The guys will understand, okay? You've taken care of them for so long, now they'll take care of things, okay? You go and do whatever it is you gotta do and then you come back to them."

He looked to you with sadness in him, lips pouty and eyes worried. His breath was still heavy, but he was a bit more calm now.

"But I'm coming with you."

He snapped out of his daze then, cheeks wet and your hands still cupping them. He pulled you off him, hands circling your wrists and softly pulling them away as he shook his head.

"N-no, I- I need to do this alone. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want-"

"Andrew. I'm not asking." your voice was stern. "You want to go? You want to get away from here? I'm coming along. I will not wait here to get a call that something happened to you, okay? I told you before — wherever you go, I go."

You saw the realization hit his face. His eyes closed and he shook his head to himself, like he was recalibrating. He remembered your words, thinking back to when Smurf first died, to the time in which you'd first spoken those words to him.

"Okay." he nodded softly.

You wrapped your arms around him, one hand going to his hair and pulling his head to rest on your shoulder — something you always knew brought him comfort.

"Please don't try to run off behind my back next time." you were sad as you said it, voice meek and weak. "I don't know what I'd do if you disappeared on me, Andrew."

➽──────────────────❥

After packing a small duffel bag, the two of you headed out. There was a slightly tearful goodbye shared by Deran and Adrian, with Craig completely out of the loop as he continued to hang around Frankie. You gave your farewell to Deran as Andrew loaded up his truck, unknowing of when you'd come back but promising to make sure you did so eventually.

It felt like hours that you were in that car, sat on the passenger's seat as Andrew drove aimlessly. The desert felt endless, the heat in the car killing you despite the air conditioner blaring.

Slightly clammy and exhausted form the upwards of six hours of driving you'd been doing, you couldn't help but fall asleep as the sound of the car moving lulled you into slumber.

You couldn't help yourself. Before coming home to Andrew as he packed his bags, you had just worked a five hour shift at the hospital, cutting it short to head back home when Deran called you. Though it didn't sound like much, coupling it with the sudden trip, you couldn't keep your eyes open anymore.

So far, the ride had been pretty calm. Though Andrew still looked a little antsy, the two of you had had a pleasant time so far. He'd stopped at some point to buy you food, insisting despite you wanting him to drive for as many hours straight as he wished. You'd opted out of turning on the radio, instead telling him about work, happy he'd ask questions with that childlike wonder he usually had when something piqued his curiosity.

But your mistake had been falling asleep as he continued to drive. You were only half lucid by the time you'd awoken enough to hear some of his rambles.

He was speaking to himself, mumbling nonsense into the quiet air of the car.

"This is what you want? This is what you wanted? This is what you wanted? Huh?"

When you began opening your eyes, you could see Andrew as you hugged your knees on your seat, facing his direction and gasping yourself awake when you made out what he was doing.

One of his hands was off the wheel, holding onto his gun as he pressed it against his chin. But before you could say anything, before he could notice you'd been awake, the car swerved harshly, his distracted self being unable to pay attention to the road as he threatened himself.

Luckily, he'd been able to catch onto the wheel before crashing into the car driving on the lane Andrew had accidentally wandered off to, swerving the car in a full 180 before halting off to the side of the road, the wheels now stopped and on the sand rather than on the pavement of the road.

"Jesus Christ." you groaned when the inertia caused the side of your head hit the back of your seat.

Andrew looked to you, eyes frantic.

"Are you okay?" it was as if the gun had been completely forgotten, the threats he'd been barking at himself out of mind.

You rubbed at the side of your head, sitting up and taking off your seatbelt as you nodded to him. You wouldn't bring up the gun just yet. He hadn't seen you see him. To ask him about it directly would just make him close up. You'd done this dance before.

"Maybe we should get out of the car for a bit." you suggested.

He nodded, taking off his own seatbelt and getting out of the car. You went to do the same, but he was faster, having already rounded the car, hand on the external handle of your door, opening it and holding his hand out to you.

You'd forgotten how unknowingly romantic Andrew could be due to the events of these past few weeks. It made you sad, thinking about how many things must be wrecking him from the inside for him to hold up a gun to himself even as you slept beside him. You'd do anything in your power to help him realign with himself, follow his every whim if it meant he'd be nicer to himself.

You pouted to yourself, taking his hand and thanking him with a kiss to his cheek as you jumped off your seat.

The two of you walked side by side towards the makeshift road you'd accidentally swerved into. A sign was propped there, one which drew Andrew in, with you walking just a few steps behind him as he neared it.

'WHO ARE YOU? FIND THE TRUTH' it read.

He looked to you quietly, eyes wandering to the path it signaled towards as he pursed his lips.

"Wanna go check it out?" you asked.

"Yeah."

And with that, he led you back to the car, hand holding yours all the way to the door and opening it for you in the same way he'd let you out. Before closing the door back up, he leaned in, thumb caressing your cheek hesitantly before your own hand went up to his, pressing it firmer against you and turning your head momentarily so you could kiss the front of his palm.

"I love you, you know?" you said, hoping not to give yourself away, but needing to at least voice it.

"I know. Thank you for coming with me."

He got into the car after that, driving into the path that led further into the desert.

As you sat there in silence, you thanked yourself too, glad you'd come, glad to have put a dent in his plan to self destruct all on his own.

-

Driving up the hill slowly, you found yourselves at what seemed to be some sort of makeshift community.

The people were scarce, but the flora and fauna was vast, with gates caging goats, cows, small structures where fruits and vegetables were likely to be growing. A few other painted signs decorated the place, all portraying some sort of spirituality.

Andrew was usually drawn to spirituality.

He'd told you in hushed whispers shared in bed of the origin of his nickname; Pope. Embarrassed, he'd looked away from you, afraid you'd mock him in the same way Baz and Smurf had, how even Julia had, laugh at how he'd so stupidly believed in the church as a teen, how desperate he'd been for acceptance he'd ended up with a name that followed him for the rest of his life.

But you didn't. You held his hand, telling him you respected his beliefs despite not wholeheartedly sharing them. You told him you'd go back to church with him any day he so wished, but you weren't surprised when he declined. He'd been too traumatized by the whole Andrew 'Pope' Cody ordeal from his teens.

When he'd been drawn to Amy and the church a few years ago, you had assumed he'd just gotten caught up in it. But it didn't take you long to realize that he was just confused about his beliefs, that the general idea of unconditional love and forgiveness drew him in more than anything. Maybe that'd been why he'd never fought against the name Pope.

Once parked, you headed towards a greenhouse, finding a man gardening right by it. You exchanged a look with Andrew before silently agreeing to go to him and inquire about the place.

The man appeared nice. He was your average Joe, friendly as he smiled at you and Andrew. He'd been pushing at a small wheelbarrow as the two of you approached, halting his movements to give you his full attention.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Those your signs out on the road?" Andrew asked.

"They are." he let go of the wheelbarrow altogether, setting it in place and walking closer to you.

"What is this place?"

"It's the Kinship of Light and Truth." he explained. "I'm Mickey, ordained minister, state of California."

"This is a church?" you asked as your eyes wandered.

There were more people around, working on the place. It was all very makeshift, but clearly established enough to hold multiple members.

The man pursed his lips. "We don't label it."

"All these people, they live out here?"

"Mm. Some of them, yeah. You guys got names?"

You guys gave your names, with you extending your hand out while Andrew remained stagnant.

"It's a pleasure. You guys look like you've been on the road a while."

Andrew nodded, eyes squinted due to the heavy sun. "Yeah. We drove south and then east. Went back north, and now we're here."

"Why are you here?" the man asked.

"I don't know." Andrew answered before you could.

That made the man smile, patting Andrew's shoulder. "That's good. That's the first step."

The two of you wandered around the place for a bit after that, never straying too far away from each other. Andrew continued mumbling to himself occasionally as you took in the place, finding various colorful paintings and handmade crafts decorating the place.

At some point a bell rang, and people began walking towards what seemed to be a dining area. There was a bar, though the man from earlier sat on the outside of it rather than the inside as he handed people drinks. They lined up for them, receiving them one by one before taking a seat in one of the many chairs nearby.

You and Andrew walked towards him, reluctantly joining the line.

Andrew lined before you, frowning when the man held up a small cup to him.

"Nah, drugs don't work on me."

The man handed it to you instead, already working on serving another one for Andrew.

"It's not a drug. It's a tool. First step to finding the truth."

"What truth?" Andrew asked.

"That's what you're looking to find out." the man chuckled.

Meanwhile, you continued to stand there, eyeing the cup you'd been handed.

It was a drug. Ayahuasca, to be more specific.

Although not particularly dangerous, — specially not in the form of a singular shot — you were iffy about Andrew consuming it in his current state. But more than anything, you were unsure about you consuming it. It'd make your inhibitions skewed for the few hours in which it's effect lasted, meaning you wouldn't be able to ensure Andrew didn't go off the rails.

But at the same time, maybe a psychedelic would help Andrew right now. Now that he was off his meds, unaware of how or when to get back on them (and so far unwilling to accept any help to figure it out), maybe this would be a good step towards actually getting him medicated.

"Come on." the man insisted, nudging the drink towards Andrew.

"No."

The man got up, more insistent now. "This is our sacrament. You want to stay, you- you drink. If you don't wanna drink, you just- keep on driving."

Andrew looked to you, unsure of what to do.

You shrugged. "What have you got to lose?"

The two of you walked towards a seat nearby, sitting side by side as you held your drinks up.

"Are you sure about this?" he whispered to you.

"It's up to you, Andrew. We can take care of each other in case anything happens." you assured, clicking your glass with his as you nodded at the drink.

You acted fast as he tipped his back, eyes closed, only taking a tiny sip as you tilted yours towards your mouth. You let it drop beneath you into the dirt under your feet, quickly using your shoes to rub at the dirt it'd dampened, making sure any mark of it disappeared. It all happened during the few seconds in which Andrew chugged his back, wincing and shutting his eyes at the strange taste. You had sat far enough from the rest of the group to think twice about anyone else seeing you dump the drink. And if Andrew noticed, he didn't say anything.

His lips curled a little when you clinked your empty glasses again, smiling at him and wiping at his lower lip with your thumb, sucking on the tiny drop of ayahuasca that had escaped his mouth when he chugged it.

You felt bad lying to him, but there was a chance the psychedelic wouldn't even work on him, and you didn't want to risk being the only one high and out of commission when you were supposed to be making sure Andrew remained out of more trouble than you could handle. Worse came to worst, you could probably handle a high Andrew for the six or seven hours in which the drug remained in his system.

Within half an hour, you could see the drug taking its effect in the people at the camp, but you remained mostly focused on Andrew. It took him longer, but it eventually came to him. His eyes were glazed and his demeanor slightly dizzy.

"I'll- I'll be right back." he mumbled as he got up from his seat, swaying a bit as he walked towards the area of the camp where the paintings had been set up.

You nodded, but still followed behind as he left the populated area of the camp.

Your silence only lasted a few moments before his demeanor started to worry you. He was confused, inspecting his own hands and with his movements lagged.

"Hey." you called his attention. "You okay?"

Even as he turned to you, his movements were slow and straggled. He'd never been high before, probably completely unaware of how to act. He always described his mind as fuzzy, but this type of fuzzy was likely brand new to him.

"Hey." he stumbled as he turned to you, but your hands caught him before he could, landing on his chest and inching towards his cheeks.

"Can you feel it?"

"Oh, oh, oh." he gasped.

"Look at me."

You pulled him close, noses almost touching. "You're okay. Tell me what you see when you look at me."

"I- I see somebody I used to know." he whimpered. "I'm sorry ... She made me do it."

Fuck.

That wasn't the effect you'd expected. You could still hear the other attendees laughing with one another from your secluded spot. You hoped that would've been him too.

You didn't want this to pain him too. His reality was already too painful. You didn't want to send him to another that would also hurt him.

Your hands circled his head, running softly through his hair as you pulled him into your shoulder. You felt him cry and whimper there, strong arms rounding your frame and holding you close. His strength almost brought you down as he tried to ground himself, but you remained standing with him, holding onto him until he calmed down.

Eventually, you pulled away again, hands cradling his cheeks once more as you stared at him. He looked vulnerable, tired. Like all his defenses were down and he was left there at your mercy.

He looked beautiful as he stared at you with a lost look in his eyes.

And you told him as so.

"You're gorgeous, Andrew."

He blinked hard a few times, mouth opening and closing as if he was struggling to let out words.

"You- you're-"

He couldn't really form a coherent sentence in his current state. He was still getting used to the feeling, still finding his footing. But still, you could see his lip curl slightly, while his eyebrows furrowed.

"I need you to stay with me, okay? Here and always."

He nodded a little childishly. "You'll stay too?"

And you nodded back, pulling him close again.

-

You eventually went back to the group, lounging around with them once Andrew's mood shifted to a less emotional one.

He took his time showing you every scar he could find on his arms (and there were sadly too many to count). Not lucid enough to remember the nights in which he'd shown and explained each one to you. You decided to ask him questions, engaging in conversation as he explained the story behind each one, though this time with excitement as his eyes lit up every time you asked him to explain yet another one.

"What's this one from?" you pointed to one on his forearm.

You knew what it was. It had been Baz. Some dumb fight that Baz had started, but had ended up blaming Andrew for. He'd told you about it two weeks into dating, and you'd cursed at Baz under your breath, earning yourself one of the first belly-laughs you'd ever received from Andrew.

Still, you let him explain it to you again.

"My brother."

"Your brothers get rough a lot, huh?" you chuckled. It was like talking to a kid.

"No, it wasn't his fault." he furrowed his eyebrows, as if convincing himself rather than you. "It was my fault. And nothing was his fault. It was all my fault."

"No, it's not, Andrew." you frowned, hand reaching the scar on his forearm and running your thumb over it. "None of it was your fault-"

But before you could talk Andrew down, a third voice interrupted. It came from behind you, but Andrew zeroed in on it immediately.

"You." the voice called.

You turned around from your seat on the floor, facing the guy in question. He had a look of disdain in his eyes. Appeared young, but his anger was heavy as he pointed at Andrew and spat out his words.

"Get him out of here."

Mickey, the man from earlier, — lucid, as you could tell — interrupted, stepping in between Andrew and the other guy.

"Brian, easy man-"

"Why is he looking at me like that?" Andrew asked.

"Hey, easy, easy. Everybody's welcome here. Sit, sit. Come on. Breathe, Here." he tried to calm Brian down, but his eyes were glued to Andrew, posture frigid as he frowned at him.

You stood, creating an extra barrier between the man and Andrew.

"There's something wrong with him." he continued.

"Hey. Leave him alone." you interjected.

"I don't like this." another voice interrupted.

"He's nothing but darkness." Brian spoke again, still being held back by Mickey.

"Stop talking to him like that." you practically barked at him.

Andrew remained sat and quiet, but when you looked back you found a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.

"Don't listen to him." you told him.

"He said I'm darkness."

"I see you. You don't fool me." Brian smiled maniacally, making you scowl at him. "Your darkness. It's inside you. I can see her."

"Make him shut up." you almost growled at Mickey.

More of the camp members began to speak up, stating they agreed with Brian, that they could see the darkness in Andrew, that he was starting to scare them.

Andrew stood up then, a scared look in his eyes as everyone turned to him and spoke over one another, calling him a devil, any thought process behind their words completely gone due to their high. But they spoke with such certainty that their words reached Andrew, who was also high and whose defenses were low.

His posture diminished as he hid his face in his hands, breathing heavy and unknowing of how to react.

"Andrew, give me your keys. Let's go." you crowded him, hands grabbing his arms and leading him away.

It took some effort, but he listened to you in the end, walking away with you as he looked back every so often, flinching any time another accusation of being evil or the devil was thrown at him.

You knew he wouldn't remember this in a few hours, but you couldn't help but feel like shit at that moment. He appeared hurt, eyes downcast as you walked him over to the passenger seat, taking your turn to drive.

-

You drove around long enough for most of the effects to wear down. He was mostly sleepy by the time the sun set, and so you parked the car down the side of an empty road in the middle of the desert, leading him out of the car with you.

You walked around as you watched the stars. Andrew wandered around and you walked a few steps behind him, eyeing up to look at the dark sky every so often.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Not really sure. But I can't keep driving."

"We shouldn't stay here."

He said it in an alarming yet petulant tone. His steps also mimicked those of a toddler, heavy and slow as he eyed the road, pointing at the white lines drawn on it.

You couldn't help yourself in giggling at him. Specially as he blinked his eyes wide, mouth opening and closing to try and process his surroundings, to check his senses.

"What are you laughing at?"

"The way you're looking at the road."

"It's moving." he pointed. "Look."

"Okay, let's lay down for a while, yeah?" you went to him, still giggling a little but now guiding him to the ground.

You had to use all your strength to get him to bend his knees and lower himself to the floor, but you were able to sit him down, pushing his chest so he'd lay down completely.

You laid side by side under the darkness for a while. There was a comfortable silence between you as you rode Andrew's high. You weren't sure if it had helped him relax at all, but it wasn't likely to last through the night, so it made no difference now.

"You shouldn't listen to what that kid Brian said." you spoke up.

"He was scared of me. A lot of people are."

You frowned. "I'm not."

"Good." he faced you.

You rolled over so you could face him too.

"Feeling good?" you asked.

"Yeah. I ... I feel great." he smiled with his teeth.

Fuck.

He was gorgeous when he smiled. You found yourself wishing he'd do it more often.

You giggled, hoping to entice him into joining you. And you were happy to see that he followed along, laughing when you got back up on your feet and pulled at his hands to help him sit up again.

It was a mostly unfamiliar laugh to you, but you took it all the same.

You felt a drunk, liberal feeling take over you as you took in his laughter. It was contagious. The sound made you wanna do anything possible to bring it about over and over again.

So you took his hand and dragged him with you, running in circles under the starry night sky in the middle of the desert. It was childish, immature, but you were sure Andrew hadn't had a chance to be either of those things throughout his life. Maybe it wouldn't last long, but you wanted to take in his carefree mood for as long as you could.

➽──────────────────❥

You spent a few more days driving around.

It had now been about a week of sleeping in the car and living off gas station food. You slept in the tiny space of the backseat, cuddled up against each other as Andrew woke up every so often, walking a few laps around the car in the middle of the night and kissing your forehead back to sleep when you'd wake up with him. It wasn't your preferred form of pastime, but you could feel Andrew relax as the days went by.

But with his highs would come his lows.

He'd been pretty calm after your rendezvous with the spirituality group. Getting high had proved to be beneficial, at least temporarily. It had let him vent, cry, laugh, let out any pent up emotion he felt like he needed to keep locked away and all to himself.

It'd been more highs than lows so far. And even after the high wore off, Andrew continued to let himself more loose than usual.

Today, he'd driven you to an abandoned car off to the side of the road. You were miles away from the road itself, surrounded by miles and miles of nothing. Wanted to teach you how to shoot, he'd said. Something about Deran not being as good a shot as he was, and that he'd probably have to re-teach you everything Deran had shown you.

You were anxious around guns still. Even while living surrounded by a group of men who had all either killed before or been an inch away from doing so, you remained weary around their weapons. Knowing how to shoot a gun was one thing, but being experienced at it was something you were not hoping to achieve.

"You need to relax." he explained. "I mean, when you're shooting."

He was right. You didn't enjoy shooting it. Not outside of a shooting range, out in the middle of nowhere. Even if no people were around. But you understood why Andrew had insisted. It was important to him that you knew how to defend yourself.

"Relax. Okay." you nodded to yourself.

Andrew knelt beside you, looking up at you as you shot at the banged up car a few meters away from you.

You shot again, this time more decisively, not shaking this time around.

"It feels kind of weird. Does it feel weird to you?"

"It feels different every time."

"More?" you asked and he nodded, taking the gun as you handed it to him and reloading it. He'd taught you that too, but opted to do it for you instead.

He walked away as you inspected the gun, stepping closer to the car you'd been shooting at. His silence was heavy and sudden. The view only provided you his back, but you could still see the pensive look in his eyes. It was one you'd grown more familiar with these past few weeks.

He turned around and looked to you, eyes intense and fists balled at his sides. His frame blocked your view of the car, putting himself between your gun and the car. When you furrowed your eyebrows at him, he simply nodded.

"Do it."

You shook your head.

"You want me to shoot you?" there was no emotion in your voice, unable to take him seriously. He didn't actually want this. You wouldn't do it, not even come close to considering it, but you still found yourself asking.

"It's okay."

"No."

"I deserve it."

You scoffed, shaking your head. But even if you wanted to remain headstrong, pick an argument rather than cry at his self-destructive tendencies, your eyes still burned as tears formed in them. Your head hurt from the tension building in your jaw.

"Andrew, no, you don't."

"I deserve it." he repeated, this time more decided.

Taking some steps towards you, he bared his teeth. There was anger in him. But it wasn't directed towards you. The closer he got, the more distanced you could see his gaze became. His words weren't aimed at you. His mind was fuzzy, with Andrew not being fully there anymore.

His gaze lowered, voice hushing. "She wanted me dead."

"She doesn't matter." you argued back.

The parallel must've been clear to him.

The gun, him, Smurf — you.

His mind was playing tricks on him, likely flashing back to the moment in which Smurf pointed her gun at him, voice altered in a similar fashion to yours as she begged him to kill her, threatening to end his life if he didn't.

He felt he deserved this, had been told he did countless times throughout his life.

Hands suddenly gripped yours, forcing you to press the gun to his chest against your will. The strength of his grip was too strong for you to let go, and you were too scared to make any sudden movements, knowing the gun was loaded and its safety remained off.

"She wanted to kill me."

"She was wrong." you spit out.

You felt a mixture of anger, fear, sadness. The drugs had worn off into the night, but he was still volatile. You didn't know how to handle this.

"She knew what I was." his voice broke, eyes looking to yours before leaving your gaze in shame. "She knows what I am."

"Do it." he insisted again.

"Smurf didn't know shit." you shook your head. "I'm not gonna do that."

His grip loosened at your words, and you took the opportunity to lower the gun, throwing it to the side and wrapping your arms around him in a haste.

To your surprise, he broke down after that. His arms wrapped around you in that all too familiar manner, engulfing you in his frame as his face dug into the crook of your neck. He cried then, apologizing into your neck over and over again. The words became babbles eventually, his head shaking along with them. But you understood.

"Don't do that again." you pleaded once he'd quietened down.

He apologized again, eyes downcast and a little overcome by his emotions still.

-

"What do you think about staying somewhere tonight?"

"Yeah? Tired of the backseat?"

He shrugged as he drove. "Just know of a place nearby."

It was a tempting offer. One you took, a little cramped already after spending over a week straight sleeping in the tiny space provided by the backseat. You'd offered an attempt at laying some blankets on the back of the trunk, but Andrew had outright rejected it, too paranoid about sleeping out in the open, specially not wanting to risk anything happening to you.

When you agreed, Andrew took a detour from your current destination (if you even had one to begin with). You arrived at the outskirts of some town, heading towards some houses scattered here and there as the city began to show in the distance.

It took you a while to realize that your surroundings were beginning to look familiar. You were laid back on your seat, mostly looking at Andrew as he drove, not really caring where it was that you ended up.

You sat up as soon as you took notice of the house Andrew was currently parking at.

"Andrew ... What are you ...? How do you even know this place?"

The large house looked back to you, everything looking pretty much the same as it had a few years back. The walls kept their seashell color, the plants even remaining almost unscathed after the passing of the years. The door you walked through countless times kept its grey marble color.

It was your ex's house.

You'd mentioned him to Andrew in passing. Your only other serious relationship before moving away to Oceanside and entering Deran's life.

The relationship hadn't necessarily ended in an amicable way. The guy had kept what was supposed to be your shared kitten, only out of spite. You'd shared this information with Andrew a few weeks back, which was why you guessed he'd driven you here.

Andrew was a vengeful guy, more so when it came to those that came after his loved ones — even if it had happened far before the two of you even met.

He shrugged, putting the car on park and undoing his seatbelt as he turned to look at you. "Called in a favor with J. He got me the address."

"What are we doing here?" you continued not to move, seatbelt still on.

"It's empty. We're staying here for the night."

You scoffed, amused. "You're crazy."

Surprisingly, he chuckled. "Maybe."

Against your better judgment, you followed after him as he got out of the car, pulling a shiv out of his pocket and lockpicking the main entrance.

"He got any cameras around here?"

You shrugged. "He didn't back then. But it was really long ago."

"Why'd you break up, again?" he asked, though he already knew. Something told you that even if you hadn't told him, he would've found out on his own.

"Asshole cheated on me. Threw all my shit out and changed the locks when I found out."

Andrew scoffed to himself, pulling a little harder than he needed as he picked the lock and breaking the mechanism of the door altogether. Probably wouldn't be able to properly close anymore. Hell.

"He's lucky he's not here." he mumbled under his breath, walking you in as if he owned the place — which, all things considered, he could've if he so wanted.

"C'mon. Let's swim." you grabbed his hand, guiding him to the patio you'd once lounged around on a regular basis.

It was weird coming back, but it didn't really inspire any nostalgia in you. You'd uprooted your life and moved to Oceanside once things were done with your ex, only really leaving behind your cat.

Which appeared to be nowhere to be found.

"Did the asshole get rid of your cat?" Andrew wondered out loud as he took the place in.

"Probably gave it to his sister." you shrugged as you threw off your shirt, looking back at Andrew as you walked past him and towards the pool. "C'mon, shirt off."

"Didn't you want your cat back?" he took a few steps closer, but he was still distractedly looking around, surveying the area as if he'd be able to spot your cat somewhere.

"I miss her. But he was an asshole. I never really expected to get her back."

By then you were in your panties, shirtless due to the absence of a bra under your shirt. Andrew finally looked in your direction then, eyes widening slightly at your nudity before beginning to chuck off his shoes.

"You sure he's got no cameras? Big place."

"Doesn't matter. Clothes off, Andrew." you were already in the pool, swimming your way to the edge at which he was standing. You smiled up at him, already relaxed by the chill the water provided.

Despite his hesitation, he threw off his clothes, leaving the boxers on as he lowered himself into the pool. His body language was closed off again, but you continued smiling up at him, biting your lip at the exposed skin.

Once he was finally engulfed by the pool, you crowded him, arms leaning on the granite pool wall behind him, legs floating in the water and face leaning into his own. You offered him a teasing smile, nose running against his own and leaning back teasingly when he tried to lean in and kiss you.

"Wanna kiss me?"

His arms reached your legs under the water and wrapped them around his waist. He flipped your positions, with your back now pressed up against the wall as he cornered you. The water reached your shoulders, occasionally reaching chin-level, but you couldn't seem to mind it when he nodded, eyes lowered to your lips.

"Yes."

He kissed you then, sighing into your mouth and moaning when your hands went from his shoulders to his hair, fingers curling into the strands and sneaking your tongue into his mouth.

Wet skin pressed together, you rubbed your chest against his hardened pecs, sighing his name at the way his muscles felt against your nipples. Your legs wrapped tighter around him, pelvis pushing and pulling into his own, shameless in the sounds you released into his lips.

It'd been so long since you'd had him. So long since he'd looked at you like he did now, unable to pull away long enough before he felt the itch to kiss you again and again. Things had been too convoluted, too fucked for you to even think about him like this. The spark remained there, but your need for him took a backseat for the past month or so.

And now you were here, in your ex's house that you'd broken into as your body begged for Andrew to touch you more, to go further than this, to go as far as his body would take him.

"Fuck." you cried into his lips once he began rocking back against you, using the wall to hold up most of your weight as his hardness fucked into your panties.

His movements were controlled. The huffs of pleasure leaving his mouth told you that he was holding back, that fucking you through his wet boxers was some sort of punishment, but you didn't care about such trivial things right now. Your cunt was aching, closing in on nothing and pleading at you to get something it could wrap itself around.

Whimpers left your lips, all landing against his skin as you bit and suckled at his neck, having dropped out of the kiss when you lost your breath.

"Andrew, please."

He knew what you wanted. He always did. If he hadn't given it to you yet, it was for a reason.

"No." he huffed.

Suddenly you found yourself standing at your full height, flipped over so your chest would press against the wall of the pool, arms sandwiched between you and the wall while Andrew pressed himself up against your back. One of his hands gripped your hip while the other rounded your body, finding your lower stomach and tracing the skin there.

"This okay?" he whispered into your ear, nose inhaling the dampened scent of your hair, sighing afterwards.

"Yes. Please."

Your eyes rolled back when his hand snuck its way under your wet panties. They stuck to your skin, completely soaked due to the pool water, but it didn't take his fingers long to reach your own wetness. You heard him suck in a breath then, hips pushing up against your ass a few times before he regained control of himself.

"P-please, Andrew ... I need it. I've been waiting so long." you panted.

You hadn't meant to say that, but it was true. You'd been aching for him, for his closeness. He'd had you worried since Smurf's death, had you in constant fear something would happen to him, that he'd go off the rails and you'd lose him if you weren't careful.

But it all now manifested in this moment and its closeness. Feeling his touch on you had you desperate, unashamed of begging him, uncaring of what type of touch he gave you as long as he had his hands on you.

"I know."

His middle and index fingers dipped in deeper, finding your clit and rubbing at it softly in an almost absent touch. Your whines did not deter him from teasing you, but you were sure that if you were to ask, he'd tell you he was simply building you up.

When you moaned and sighed his name, he pressed up even closer against you, groaning at how you'd grind your ass against him, back arching and your hand taking one of his to play with your tit. You were a depraved mess, mouth agape as you cried his name.

"Don't- don't stop." you cried. Your hand gripped his wrist, scared he'd pull away and keeping him there. He could've easily removed it, but he let you keep it there.

"Like that?" he mumbled once his fingers plunged in you, curling a little harder each time you cried a babbled version of his name.

You nodded desperately, arching further into him, head dropping back and leaning on his shoulder. Your head turned, nose nudging his jaw as your eyes looked for his lips. But his eyes were already on yours, head already tilting towards your own and lips seeking yours.

Your mouth was open when it received his, sounds endlessly escaping you as you tried to lick into his mouth.

"Fuck me." you moaned into his lips. "Please ... Andrew, please."

He groaned then, finally making some noise for you. His hips stuttered, pressing into yours and making him release yet another groan as you sucked on his tongue.

"Can't." he breathed out. "Don't deserve it."

Again, you cried, hand leaving his wrist to find the back of his head behind you, keeping him pressed to you, lips barely disconnected, breaths interlocked. You shook your head, kissing him chastely a few times before speaking.

"That's not true." you huffed.

This made his hips thud against yours again, but it just wasn't enough for you. You wanted him buried deep, wanted him to use your body for his own pleasure, to stop prioritizing yours and neglecting his as some sort of self-punishment. You couldn't understand how he was still unaware that his pleasure was your own, that rewarding himself with your body was the one and only thing that ever made you feel good since the moment you first laid eyes on him.

Pulling him away from you, you turned around, still caged by his arms, but now facing him. Your hands found their familiar place cupping his cheeks, pulling him down for another kiss before your hands wandered south, digging under his boxers and pulling him out.

"I- I don't. You don't have to."

"I need you." you begged, careless.

By the time you lined him up, your head was already thrown back on the surface of the pool, mouth open and a cry of his name escaping it.

"Nnhgn ... Fuck, Andrew. You feel so .... God, fuck."

You didn't know what to do with yourself. He'd barely sheathed himself in and you were already writhing against him, already leaving red lines across his skin, already sighing and gasping and making a mess of yourself. He remained stagnant for a few moments, but you were too blissed out to notice the pained look of pleasure on his face, cunt too busy squeezing around him to see that he was also losing his mind.

"I missed you." he grunted, hips beginning to move.

His eyes were shut, his mouth open with huffs of air leaving it with every thrust. Your hips matched his movements, humping against him as if you were in heat, roughly hammering your skin with his own. The water hit the surface of the pool every so often due to the commotion, but the state of your ex's patio was the least of your worries.

"I missed you so much, Andrew."

"I'm sorry." he panted, head buried in your neck, lips kissing their way to your wet chest, licking the drops of water that led him to your breasts and finding a home for his tongue there.

Panting in unison, you dug your nails into his shoulder. "Just stay with me."

The reason for the apology stayed unspoken. There was no need to talk about it when you both understood.

You didn't care how many times you found yourself on the receiving end of an apology as long as it meant you had your Andrew. That he was safe and alive and that you could feel his skin under your touch.

"I'll stay for as long as you want me." he panted.

You sighed, "Forev- fuck, forever. Please."

Andrew released all his pent up emotions as he fucked you, his voice growing louder by the second, being rewarded by the intermittent squeezing of your cunt.

Water splashed all over, coating the external surface of the pool as his thrusts grew more desperate.

Your every cry made him go harder, deeper, made the lust take over as he fucked into you with no mercy. He told you he missed you through every touch, silently begging to be buried in you until someone had to pull him away.

"I'm- I'm almost- fuck, I'm-"

"I know." he grunted. "Let me fill you up. Okay?"

His words were growled, an even lower register than his usual, the deep throaty feel of it going straight to your cunt.

Knowing how much he lost himself in you made you lightheaded. You'd almost forgotten how good it felt to be wanted by him, to squeeze around him and earn a heavy breath of your name in return, a bite to your shoulder.

And he bit your shoulder again as he filled you up, hums of pleasure muffled by your skin as his release stained your insides.

By the time you orgasmed, his lips trailed back to yours, sucking, kissing, biting at them and swallowing every single whiny moan of his name. Your voice was hoarse by the time he was done with you.

Your shared heavy breaths filled the silence afterwards, but they didn't last long, with a wet exchange of kisses being had by your lips as soon as you'd regained enough oxygen in your lungs.

"I'm sorry." he whispered again. "Please ... I love you."

I'm sorry. Please don't leave me. I love you.

It made no sense to you.

To ever think about leaving him. To exist in a reality in which Andrew wasn't yours. You couldn't fathom it.

You kissed him once, deep, heavy, transmitting every emotion in your body.

"I love you. More than anything."

It'd been said so breathlessly, so trapped between kisses that it could've easily been missed.

But you knew he heard it. Knew it off the groan he released against your lips, the way his hands gripped at your body, almost as if molding into it.

He carried you out of the pool then, taking your muffled directions towards the master bedroom and making love to you on the bed, taking his time and licking at every inch of your body that'd been aching to be touched by him.

And later that night, fucked you one last time on what used to be yours and your ex's shared bed.

Had it been any other guy, the act would've been petty. But Andrew was clean to a fault. By the time you'd gotten dressed, the bed was as pristine as you'd found it. A coin could've easily bounced off it.

Still, it was nice to wipe those old memories with this new one.

"I'm sorry your cat wasn't here." he mumbled as he led you out, hand on the low of your back as he walked you to the car.

"I appreciate you trying." you smiled at him. "She's probably with his sister in San Marco. She always liked her more than he did."

You didn't know that what you'd said offhandedly had ingrained in his brain. Again, you hadn't known then that Andrew would go out of his way for you, not needing a single word from you.

"What was her name?"

"Miffy. She was white, fluffy; a ragdoll."

He hummed, but didn't say anything else.

"We can get one of our own someday." you suggested. "Start our own little family."

He squeezed your hand, pressing a kiss to your hair, opening the car door for you.

"Anything you want."

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew wasn't sure how you'd react to this.

You hadn't questioned him when he suggested staying at some motel you'd passed by on your way back to Oceanside. You'd reacted much the same way you always did when he suggested something — supportive, hand squeezing his own and lips finding his cheek.

It pained him how much you accommodated to him, happy at any situation if it meant just being together.

Cats weren't exactly his favorite. They were barely domesticated, just a generation away from being feral. But all things considered, so was he. And you liked him. You really liked him.

Getting your cat back was the least he could do. Even if it started with a lie (or an omission of truth), — leaving you asleep in that motel room bed while he snuck out in the middle of the night — Andrew felt justified.

After all, it was just a quick round trip. He'd just make a stop back at your ex's, maybe cause a few bruises if necessary, and then retrieve your cat from — where did you say his sister lived, San Marco?

And getting your ex to talk really required no much effort. Within a few seconds of Andrew dragging him off the bed he'd fucked you to sleep in a few days ago, the idiot was already begging Andrew not to hurt him, telling him to take whatever he wanted but to just leave him unscathed. Wasn't very sure how to react when he'd demanded the location of your old cat, blabbering like an idiot at his questions.

"Miffy. Fluffy, white, ragdoll — where is she?" he huffed, fists gripping at his shirt as he pushed him up against a wall.

That led him to some house in the outskirts of San Marco. It was only a little under an hour away from your motel.

Three am — he'd get back to you at around six. Apt time for him to get back to you before you woke up.

He'd promised to take the cat, leave his sister and her family alone, not even wake them up as he took her away. But only as long as he didn't blab, didn't go to the police over this — which, of course, Andrew couldn't actually guarantee, but he'd gone in far blinder on worse situations. This wasn't as much of a risk.

In the end it'd been an easy task. Easier than many undeserving jobs he'd done with his brothers for much less reward.

And the reward was grand this time around, at least as far as it concerned him.

He'd managed to break into the house with practiced stealth, eyes locating the cat as she laid in a small bed in the downstairs living room.

As in most household arrangements, everyone else was upstairs and fast asleep. It was a quick in-and-out operation that left no one harmed (other than your ex, who he couldn't help but land a few punches at).

The cat, likely a good four or five years old based on the timeline you'd given him, was surprisingly calm as Andrew drove her back to the motel. Small, white, fluffy; ragdoll — just as you'd described.

By the time he made it back to the motel, it was barely 5:37 in the morning, and you were still fast asleep, blankets thrown off due to the heat and your body clad in only your panties and one of his shirts. You laid face down, body curled slightly towards his side of the bed.

He loved the sight and he hated having to wake you, but also knew that the cat's meowing would've done the job on its own sooner or later.

But still, he allowed himself to watch you sleep for a short while, lulling the cat into yet another nap as he held it in his arms.

It was the most calm he'd felt in a while, watching you sleep. You were completely knocked out, tired from all the constant running around you'd been doing with Andrew. It made him hate himself, knowing how much he'd put you through in the short two years you'd known him.

No matter how many times you tried to beat the idea into his head, he couldn't reason why you still stuck around. At times he hoped that his erratic behavior would drive you away, but he knew deep within himself that despite his constant need to self-sabotage, he'd probably find himself with a gun to his head if you ever were taken away from his life.

There was no life without you anymore. Andrew would constantly fight with himself about this, knowing how selfish he was in stealing you away from what could otherwise be a promising life, but every time he asked you to leave, every time he gave you an out, there was a big part inside him that pleaded you wouldn't accept his offer, that you'd continue to stay.

And you always did. Never with a single complaint, not once blaming him for his struggles, for how much he had to fight himself and others in the miserable hellscape that his life could be.

But even then, you'd grown accustomed to it all.

You'd been accepting of the family business, had taken a motherly role in Lena's life while she was around, loved him despite the distance Smurf created between you, forgiven him after everything that happened with Angela. And even to this day, you'd tagged along as he ran off like a coward, forcing yourself upon him knowing that this trip would've ended by his own hand if he'd been out on his own.

He thought of it all as he watched you sleep, not realizing when he'd gotten up and laid the cat at the foot of the bed, making his way into the bed and taking you in his arms. It didn't take long for your breathing to synchronize, for his heart to beat against your back and for you to nuzzle against him in your sleep.

This was the one place where he didn't have to worry about anything else.

The state, Smurf's death, his meds, they were all pushed aside as he closed his eyes and joined you in your slumber.

-

"Jesus Christ, what the- Andrew?"

Your words weren't loud, but they'd still managed to wake him up.

"What's wrong?"

"Is this- Andrew, did you- is this my cat?"

Andrew sat up, realizing that you were no longer laid down in his arms but rather sitting up, leaning down to the side of the bed as you lifted up the small creature into your arms.

Despite your words, you did not appear angry, just genuinely shocked at the sudden reappearance of an old pet you were probably never expecting to see again.

"Yeah." he mumbled. "Went back last night while you were asleep. Sorry."

By then you were cradling your pet like a baby, toying with it with your finger as it attempted to catch it. It was a pretty docile cat. Much unlike Tank, who didn't take much of a liking to anyone.

"You went back? Shit, did you talk to him?"

"Don't worry, he doesn't know who I am. Probably figured out by now I'm connected to you somehow, but you shouldn't worry about it."

"Wow, that's-" you paused, looking for the words. "This is probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." you laughed in disbelief.

Andrew huddled closer to you, body hovering over your side as you continued cooing at your cat. Not necessarily a pet kind of guy, he still smiled at the sight, happy he was able to get you happy. It was always his goal, he'd just been pretty bad at it lately.

He could hear your voice inside his head responding to that, telling him you'd never blame him for his behavior while he grieved, while he navigated life after Smurf. But the reality was that he still blamed himself. It was just a silver lining for him that you didn't share that sentiment.

"I'd do anything for you."

A pair of lips pecked his before he realized, a muted giggle vibrating against him.

"You ready to head back home?"

"Whenever you are."

"We're only two hours South of Oceanside. I can drive the rest of the way if you want." you offered. "You probably didn't get enough sleep getting this little thing back for me."

He shook his head. "Sleep. I've been keeping you tired."

You didn't argue against it, kissing him again before getting up.

The two of you only made a couple of stops before heading towards Oceanside, one to eat and one to pick up some stuff for your cat on the way back home.

By the end of it all, Andrew felt a little less disoriented.

Returning home with you helped him reroute himself. You could start brand new now, forming a small family, re-doing a lot of the shit that Smurf had destroyed throughout the length of his life.

Everything felt clearer as he drove you back home, hand on your lap as you talked to him about work, as you made plans with him, as you giggled at what you called your 'new baby together.'

He didn't really find it in himself to care much about what was going on at home for the time being. Things would always remain shit when it came to the Cody's. It was his lifelong duty to put up with it, to aid and protect to the best of his ability. But he was okay with it if it meant you were one of the many things he'd have to protect.

For once, Andrew felt a glimmer of hope in his future.

➽──────────────────❥

Not much happened in your absence.

Deran's bar now had new competition, Craig continued to explore parenthood, and J had found a new way to launder everyone's money.

It seemed Andrew arrived at the perfect time. Things were hitting a crescendo among the rest of the Cody men, with J on the verge of leaving when you'd arrived, having to be talked down by Andrew. A fight had ensued between the three men, one which you and Andrew caught the aftermath of. Bruised faces and dislocated bones were had by all Cody men. Andrew had been the only one to miss out on it.

Andrew's mood changed drastically after going away with you, which the guys noticed upon your arrival.

He was touchier, less off-putting, and had quickly become a pillar in the sea of uncertainty the family was currently going through. Craig and Deran gave you the credit for it, while J remained a little suspicious of it all, but you pointed to Andrew, knowing his new outlook on life had been his doing alone.

Not many questions were had about your new pet, just a warning from Craig to not let it get into the pool.

The biggest change upon your return was Andrew's acceptance for help. He still was weary about shrinks, but had agreed to go back to the hospital, to speak to the doctor who had tended to him when he'd been wandering around and to accept medication that would keep him in check. This alone made a difference in him.

The two of you continued to mostly stay at the Cody residence. It kept Andrew grounded. Having the familiar surroundings was helpful to him, at least for the time being. He'd been adamant in re-doing your shared room, in ridding the place of Smurf's shit, which you not only supported but cheered on.

A few days later you'd found out that the guys had been in contact with some crooked police officer, officer Chadwick. It gave you a bad feeling, Andrew too. But you didn't have enough leverage in the family for your opinion to matter that much, so you kept to yourself.

Andrew shared your worries, but still agreed to look over any information the guy could get them that the Oceanside police department currently had on the Cody's. It was best to be prepared, specially with Smurf's protection gone. And so the guy entered the Cody's monthly payroll.

Things were a little out of control, but that was just a commonality in the life of anyone involved with the Cody's.

Deran was going through some shit too.

He'd been getting tailed by Agent Livengood, the same man who'd been trailing Adrian, and ultimately one of the biggest reasons for Adrian's sudden escape to Thailand a few months back.

Keeping Adrian out of jail while keeping him safe from Smurf had proved to be an impossible mission. And while Deran's plan had originally been to go away with him, he'd dropped out last minute, too guilty to leave his family behind.

After all, he'd lied to his family, had told them Adrian wasn't talking to the cops, that his only charges had been on the smuggling of drugs. Which had been true at first, but then Livengood had gotten involved, pushing Adrian for information on the Cody's, leading to his escape and to his subsequent breakup with Deran.

This had gotten the Cody's names circled in red on Livengood's agenda. It'd made Livengood begin trailing them, working overtime to catch them at fault and get any necessary info on them to take them down.

Deran carried this guilt with him, apologetic to his brothers, even to you.

"I'm sorry you guys had to come back to all this shit." he'd come up to you a few nights later.

Andrew had been re-doing the connected restroom at that moment, angrily hacking at anything Smurf had put in there and trying to make the place more of your own. The bedroom was already completely re-done, which was where you currently resided, sitting up on the bed with your cat on your lap as Deran stood by the door, awkwardly apologizing for something you weren't angry at (and neither was Andrew).

"What do you mean?"

"The DEA. Livengood. It's my fault."

You shook your head. "What?"

"I should have done what needed to be done with Adrian." he looked down, sighed. "I know that."

He meant killing him. Should've done it the Smurf way.

The same way in which she'd gotten rid of Cath, for the same reason. The job that she'd forced on Andrew, disoriented, out of his meds and recently released from a prison sentence he didn't deserve any more than Baz did. It had been the same reason as to why Andrew was so haunted by his past, why he couldn't lay in bed alone at night and close his eyes without being tormented by what'd he'd done. His biggest regret.

You could never wish the same on Deran, and you knew Andrew felt the same.

"That's bullshit." you scoffed. "Come on. That's not you. That's Smurf talking, Deran, you know that."

You stood up, took the few steps necessary to reach him by the door. The closed-off demeanor your friend displayed made you frown, but you understood. You understood the guilt, however unreasonable it was.

"Hey." you called his attention when he tried looking away. "None of this is your fault, and no one blames you for it, okay?"

Unable to alleviate himself from all guilt, he simply nodded, lips in a tight line and eyes still not fully on yours.

"I, uh, gotta go to the bar, but, you know, if you want to come by later for a drink or something ..."

"I'll stay in and help Andrew clean up the stuff in the bathroom. Tomorrow?"

He nodded again, leaning down a bit to give you a side-hug, probably the most affection he was willing to take at that moment.

When you waved him goodbye, you closed the door to your bedroom, walking back to your cat on the bed.

"You're really good with him, you know?"

Andrew was standing by the door that connected to the restroom when you looked back, a somber yet pleased look in his eye. He was in the process of removing his construction gloves, ready to clean up before he got into bed with you.

"You think so?"

He nodded. "He's really closed off, you know? Doesn't share much with us. Always trying to run away from us. But you keep him grounded." he continued. "You're good for him. You're a good friend."

With a smile, you walked to him, throwing his gloves aside and grabbing his hands so they'd wrap around your waist.

"You're sweet." you smiled. "I owe him a lot, y'know? He did introduce me to my boyfriend and all."

You kissed his jaw then. Just a singular kiss. Slow, long.

"Yeah. Not as much as I owe him."

Later that night, Andrew woke you up, weirdly light in his mood. The brooding heaviness he tended to carry was completely gone, and instead you found what you were happy to deem a boyish smile.

"C'mon, I wanna take you somewhere."

And then you found yourself at a skate park nearby, completely empty at 3 in the morning, the ramp wide and big for Andrew to skate until he grew tired of it.

He offered to show you how to skate, but you loved watching him carefree, smiling and proud of how good he was at it, chuckling when you'd cheer for him, equally as carefree.

You repeated this a few more times that week, not caring if it chopped your sleeping hours down in half, or if you needed three cups of coffee in order to stay up at work the next day. This was your version of domestic.

➽──────────────────❥

That drink with Deran never came.

A few days later, his bar was raided, his inventory confiscated by the board. And while he thought it must've been some shit with that new bar across the street, Sun of a Beach, it was actually much simpler than that. Livengood had crawled his way into yet another area of the Cody's lives.

While you tried to calm down an altered Deran, Andrew dealt with his own issues.

He'd gone to Pete's gang in hopes of selling his truck, but the Trujillo crew had decided they'd no longer be dealing with the Cody's.

It had happened as a result of their last job together, when the Cody's had raided an abandoned helicopter full of coke, stocking it with the Trujillos while they found a buyer. Unfortunately, they'd taken too long to find a buyer, which led to the Trujillo business being assailed by the county, ridding them of not only the tons of powder but getting themselves in the local police's radar.

Pete's gang was one of the most powerful around, dating back to the days in which Smurf had barely been getting her name out on the streets of Oceanside. The Cody's had grown up dealing with them, working alongside each other, exchanging favors. The death of such a partnership left them at a loss.

Craig was nowhere to be found at the next family meeting, searching all over Oceanside for Renn, who had run off with their son. Andrew was pretty sure Craig must've done something to cause this, while Deran appeared offended by the insinuation. J didn't care, and you were indifferent as long as the baby was fine.

The next time you were all together, it was at Deran's bar, having agreed upon a meeting with Chadwick. Something about information he had that could help the Cody's.

It'd been a trick.

He'd walked in with Livenwood trailing behind him, a smirk on his face at finding all the Cody's gathered in one place, trapped and forced to deal with the consequences of Livenwood's years-long investigation. He threatened the Cody's, saying he had a list of evidence that went for miles against them, but that he'd let it all go if they ratted out Adrian.

You knew Deran would never let that happen, willing to lay down his life instead in the same way you would've for him or for Andrew.

But it turned out you didn't have to worry about that for long.

It'd all been a trick.

But not on you.

On Livenwood.

Chadwick shot him dead. Standing there in Deran's bar.

You didn't participate in any of the aftermath. Andrew removed you from the situation immediately, taking in the shocked look on your face and regretting having brought you along to Deran's bar in the first place.

Sure, you were in this, you were part of the family, a crucial piece to the lives of two of the Cody men, but you were also a regular girl. You hadn't grown in the way Andrew had, no one else really had. He couldn't put these images in your head, traumatize you the way he'd been as a child.

When you told him you were okay, that you could deal with it all, he shook his head, dropping you off at home and tucking you in bed before he went back to the guys in order to get rid of the body.

He'd keep you safe from all this shit as much as he could, wouldn't put you at risk ever again. Would never place you in a room where a man he didn't trust could pull out a gun no matter what.

-

Andrew continued to keep you uninvolved as much as he could.

While he usually would've preferred your participation rather than Frankie's, he knew this job was too dangerous, too much of a risk for him to take when it came to you. Still willing to share with you any details you needed to know for peace of mind, he kept his reservations, never telling you anything that could implicate you should things go awry and you ended up with the police at your door as they looked for Andrew and his brothers.

There were just risks he wasn't willing to take anymore. Not with you.

Things continued to be great between you, but he still felt guilt any time he left the house and you'd hug him a little too hard, kiss him a little too long, all in fear that he'd come back hurt, or just not come back at all.

When he'd gone with J to bury Livengood's body, he didn't tell you anything you didn't need to know. It wasn't until the discovery of his body made the news that you really found out what'd happened.

When he'd gone back to Pete's threatening one of his guys so he'd give him his car, take his old truck out of his hands, he didn't tell you about the coke he'd found in the trunk — the same coke that they'd given Pete. The same coke Pete said had been raided from his car shop.

Andrew shared this information with his brothers, planning some sort of revenge, but kept you out of the loop. He didn't want you knowing things that could put you in danger.

And when he'd gone back to Pete's a few days later with J, he didn't tell you about how he cornered Pete, about how he'd screamed in his face, called him a liar, how he held him down and pulled his eye out of its socket with a pair of pliers while J watched, demanding the money he'd stolen from the coke back or he'd come back and do it again.

He came back home with J a few hours later, situation resolved and feeling his tensions lowered, but his arms were still dripping with Pete's blood.

And though he hoped to keep it from you altogether, he couldn't deny you when you ran to him worried, inspecting his hands as you dragged him over to the sink to clean them up.

The rest of the guys were there, passing out takeout for dinner, stopping on their tracks when they took note of the blood dripping down his arms.

"Where you guys been?"

They ignored the elephant in the room. This was more common to them than it was for you, even after years of your proximity to Andrew.

"I talked to Pete."

"I thought we were all gonna do that."

"He took Pete's eye out." J interrupted, eyes downcast, completely drained by what he'd just witnessed.

Andrew cursed under his breath at J, shooting him a look when he heard you gasp.

"Andrew, you what?" but you kept rinsing his arms, not flinching, not creating distance between you even as you heard of what he did.

"Jesus." Craig rasped.

Andrew looked away from you, ashamed as his eyes looked away from you. "I just reminded Pete not to break the rules."

"Some of the blood splattered to your hair, Andrew, fuck. Come on, let's go wash it off. You guys have dinner without us." you pulled him away as you spoke, not needing to look back, as you knew he'd be following behind.

Moments later, you were situated in the bathroom that connected to the master bedroom. What used to be Smurf's but now was shared between you and Andrew. You sat on the marble finish Andrew had installed on the counter over the past week while he stood between your legs at the perfect height for you to clean at those few splashes of blood that had landed on his hair.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked, looking down.

Your hand came up to his chin, making him look up. "I'm not."

Using the small detachable faucet, you sprayed just a bit on his hair. Enough so that the blood would mostly wear off. He understood why you didn't want him bloody. And it was too late into the night for a shower.

"You know you don't have to hide anything from me, right?" you asked as you put down the detachable faucet head, grabbing a small towel and handing it to him so he could dap at the remnants of water at the curls on his head.

You hopped off the counter then, leaning your hip against it as you watched him dap at his hair.

"I'm not- I'm not trying to hide anything. I just ... I want to keep you safe."

"But you always do. I'm always safe when you're around."

His heart cracked at that. Not in a bad way, but rather in a way that worried him.

You were looking at him with these eyes ... Eyes filled with love and worry and gratefulness that Andrew just couldn't wrap his head around. You looked to him with affection at every step he took, never once retracting it if he ever toed past certain line.

Because you loved him, and you worried about him, and you were grateful he was part of your life. He'd cut off every limb for even an inch of affection from you, and you gave it to him willingly, thankful he'd give his in return as if he wouldn't die before his heart was taken away from its secure hold in your hands.

Andrew was seldom overwhelmed with any positive emotion, but as he stood there, he couldn't help but want to burst at the seams.

"I'll do anything to keep you safe."

"I know." you smiled up at him, eyes lazy, morphing into that look he wasn't sure when he'd grown so familiar with.

You grabbed the towel from his hands, placing it on the counter next to you, attention solely on him.

"Because you love me."

"More than anything." he whispered, eyes trailing to your lips.

"And you'd do anything to protect me." you continued. "Like today. You did that for me. For your family."

"You're my family." he rasped.

"Yeah? Any question you wanna ask me, Andrew?" you teased, voice low, hands draping over his chest.

His body was practically curling into yours by now, distance nonexistent as your every word drew him closer.

He let out a breath at your words. His hands balled into fists, one resting on the counter and one itching towards your hip. Unsure of how to respond, he opened and closed his mouth a few times, frowning. Knowing exactly what you meant, he thought back to every moment in which he'd thought about that question. He always beat himself up over it, knowing it was too soon, that it was too dangerous a question, that if he pushed too hard, you might just run off.

"Is that- is that what you want?"

You nodded. Light, comfortable. As if it was the easiest, most obvious answer.

"You want to ..."

"You don't have to ask me today." you assured, leaning up for a peck. "But I'll be waiting. You know my answer."

Andrew released a breath in disbelief, chest expanding as his breath got heavier. His body couldn't help itself in being drawn to you then, closing any remaining distance and kissing you, raw, hard, needy. Something shifted, making him act on his greed for you.

No more words needed to be exchanged. Andrew let himself go, body responding to yours and begging to be claimed by you, begging to claim you in return.

With minimal effort, Andrew picked you up, carrying you over to the bed and setting you down softly as he crawled on top. Clothes were removed in a haste, fumbly and all over the place due to your insistence to keep your lips attached.

Andrew's breath still stuttered every time you bared yourself before him. Already familiar with every inch, having left his mark in every spot that made you cry that special sound that had him grinding into the mattress, he still stopping for a moment to let his eyes get their fill.

You did the same, tracing every scar, knowing the story behind them, having kissed at every one.

When he finally entered you, he groaned into your mouth, lips agape as your body instinctively tried to escape the pleasure. The pressure of his hips inside you had your nails dragging down his back, providing him with scars he was proud to bear.

Andrew kissed you as if it was the last time, sighing into every kiss and dragging his hips against yours as if it burned if he allowed himself a single moment away from you. He was thirsty, hungry, starving for you. But he was also terrified.

He wasn't sure where this sudden fear came from. Perhaps how good things had gotten between you. How long you'd lasted by his side, accepting his one and every form, making him better by just being in love with him in return.

But a deep part of him was always afraid. Terrified that the next time he put you in danger would be the last, that one more mishap with his meds and he'd wake up to an empty bed.

His body itched with the need to beg and cry and sob that you stay by his side, that you love him the way he loved you.

It was all heightened by the feeling of your body under his, so open and ready to take him. So willing for him, begging for his touch as if he wouldn't fight any and every obstacle to get to you. Every cry of his name made him lose himself a little more, had him praying to a god he had lost contact with a long time ago to please let him keep you forever.

"I lo-love you." he panted, voice broken. "I can't live without you, please .... please don't make me."

You cried his name, laid under him and received every thrust from his hips. Something in him broke, but you took it all head on, legs open and wrapped around him, letting him into the intimacy of your body as he cried his most vulnerable fear into the quiet of the room.

Reassurances were whispered into his ear, love-filled caresses at various points of his body. And Andrew took each and every one. Greedy for the first time in his life, only ever practicing this greed when it came to you.

"I'm here, Andrew. I'm always here." your voice was barely there, syllables interrupted by moans or gasps of air.

Your purrs against his ear made him dizzy, made his brain grow fuzzy and his body lose control. Every movement was led by instinct. His body cried for yours, and yours took his every plea head-on, welcoming his every thrust, his every scratch and his every bite as he let himself go in you.

Andrew had long grown overwhelmed with his feelings for you.

It'd been a rapid thing, the way in which he'd fallen for you. His obsession grew quickly, but he soon learned that it wasn't a mere obsession. Not like what he had with Cath. That was a mere infatuation, a need to chase after the only person who was ever nice to him. With you it was more. Not only carnally, but ingrained deep within.

It'd gone past a point of want. No, he needed you to survive now. He'd grown greedy, too used to that look in your eyes that he needed to do everything to preserve.

He was loud this time around, his every cry and whimper landing straight in your ear, only occasionally trapped by your mouth when you'd drag him onto yours, tonguing at him with need that made his hips stutter.

"Tell me." he cried. "Tell me you- you love me."

And you cried it out for him, pulling him close and kissing him soft. You brought him as close as you possibly could, hip bones slamming against each other, legs squeezing at his waist, holding him hostage. A trap he was starved to fall into.

"F-fuck, Andrew ... Don't- don't stop. You feel so good, oh fuck. I love you! I lo- love you, fuck."

His brain was filled with static, teeth bared and body flexed with the pent up high he'd been chasing from the moment he kissed you.

When you came, he truly lost his mind.

He'd had you many times, too many for him to count. His body was well-acquainted with yours, in ways he still couldn't understand. Yet as you squeezed around him, milking him of every drop as he spilled into you, he couldn't help but cry out those two words. The same words that had tortured him with the risk of coming out and ruining everything.

Mid orgasm, they came out, strangled, raspy, voice worn out due to every single groan of your name.

"Marry me."

It wasn't a question. He couldn't risk phrasing it as a question. He needed it to be a reality, to have it engraved and true and never questioned.

You squeezed him tighter, sighing his name and pulling him in for yet another kiss.

"Please." you sighed. "Yes, I'll- Yes, Andrew."

He fucked you past midnight that night. Had you in every way imaginable, disregarding his brothers loitering around the house as he twisted you in every position his body desired. You begged him to, told him to be greedy, to take that was his. As if you didn't know how long he'd prayed for his, for someone to take him in, accept him, love him with no consequence.

For the first time in his life, Andrew grew satiated. He filled his every need with you, shedding tears, filling you up time and time again while you never grew tired, always begging for more.

When you fell asleep in his arms late into the night, he held you, watched you sleep. He matched his breathing to yours, comforted by your skin on his.

Slumber found him a while later. Calm, deep slumber, one he'd realized he never had until you came into his life.

He kissed your skin one last time, already planning every single promise he'd fulfill tomorrow in return for what you'd given him tonight.

Chapter Text

It had been J's idea.

Every Cody boy would get one of the new plots of land he'd bought with the leftover money from selling Smurf's properties.

It'd been agreed upon a little after you and Andrew came back from the desert. Something about a new start, a new way to run things now that Smurf was no longer in the picture. An easier, less suspicious way to launder their money.

Andrew was unsure of what to do with his plot of land. J had his bowling alley, Deran already had his bar, and Craig had decided on the obvious choice of making his into a gym. Andrew was the one remaining member of the family who was unsure of which direction to go in. J kept pushing at him, wanting to move on with things, to continue building their name now that Smurf was gone, but pressure never worked too well with Andrew.

Andrew always needed a little extra time to think things through. It was how his brain had always functioned.

Since your return from the desert a few months ago, Andrew had grown calmer, and the guys responded to that. Things were less chaotic between them, with not many fights taking place as they all supported each other's endeavors, working together in the occasional job in the meantime.

Andrew started smoking weed as of late, which seemed to calm him down. This aided in his relationship with his brothers, with J. And you enjoyed the calm, relieved the family meetings didn't follow their previous pattern of ending with an argument.

It didn't take too long for Andrew to decide he'd forego a business, ignoring any of J's suggestions when it came to ideas for what lucrative plan he could come up for his lot. Instead, he decided to build a skatepark. No lucrative means attached to it. He'd let strays in, build the place the old-fashioned way and keep it open for local skaters to use free of charge.

You'd go hang there after work. You'd watch Andrew as he built it with some other guy he'd hired, offer him some cold water, wipe his sweat, make him squirm when you'd catcall him and when his new friend Auge would make fun of him for it.

Andrew had insisted on getting you a car of your own, pushing for weeks until one day you suddenly walked out of work, expecting to take the bus but suddenly finding him standing there with a brand new car, keys at hand before they were handed off to you. This meant you could freely go see him at the skate park whenever you wished to, which was where he spent most of his time while you were at work.

Ever since Andrew had thrown that question at you, the one he'd rasped out as he hovered over you in bed, he'd become more attached to you, more protective than he'd ever been (which was saying a lot). Things didn't change much further than that, except you guys were now mostly residing in your shared apartment rather than in the Cody house. Really, as of late, it was mostly just J who stayed there.

It was only two weeks that you lasted without an actual ring on your finger, eventually receiving one during one of the many dates Andrew had insisted on taking you after he'd first popped the question. He'd never taken you on one before, he'd realized, but he became quite insistent in doing so after taking your relationship to this next level. They'd been a bit awkward at first, despite the years in which you'd been together. Andrew was new at this, which couldn't not endear you as he fumbled his way through whatever his version of dating was (which you enjoyed all the same).

The ring hadn't been stolen, but purchased at an actual jewelry store. Andrew had been quite adamant in you knowing that when he gave it to you, eyes downcast and an insecure demeanor accompanied by the exchange. But that suddenly turned around when your ecstatic reaction forced a surprised ghost of a smile on his face.

Things were going well for Andrew. For the first time, it seemed as if life was turning around, morphing into something he'd never even given himself the space to fantasize about.

Being engaged was something he never once imagined. He'd told you as much only a few days after his impromptu proposal. Marriage was much less something he ever expected. He hadn't known how badly he'd wanted it until the option was presented to him — until you showed up as a consistent presence in his life.

It made you sad to hear this, but a sense of relief also washed over you at knowing you made as much a difference in his life as he did in yours.

Days were spent in a routinary fashion as of late, almost earning Andrew a sense of normalcy you knew he'd never had the privilege of experiencing. He'd always lived in fear. Maybe not of someone, but of the turmoil that'd continue to follow him day after day.

But lately that turmoil hadn't been present in his life. He'd tell you as much every night he tucked you into bed, sliding next to you and holding you against him as a lifeline. You'd wake up in the same position most days, with the movement of Andrew's chest felt at your back and with his face buried in the crook of your neck, deep puffs of air landing against your skin as he allowed himself a healthy amount of sleep for the first time in his life.

You'd been the common denominator to it all, he'd always tell you. At first he was shy about it, but then he became insistent at it, needing you to know about the effect you had in his life.

And though it was strange to be thanked for your presence in his life, for caring for him (something so effortless and out of your control), you still took it all in, returning the sentiment, enjoying the way in which he'd look away, unsure to take credit, but forced to as you insisted, kissed your way into making him submit to your affections.

It was unusual of him to start anything between you in bed, but after the desert, he'd become more forward, affectionate and touchy in ways he'd never been before. You never complained, happy he felt at ease to do with you as he pleased.

"It's late. You wanna?" you murmured when kisses started trailing down your neck, reaching a stop at your collarbone.

Laid in bed, you curled against him. Naturally, without meaning to, you always would. He did the same, shaping himself perfectly so you'd fit snuggly in his arms, lips digging until they found the skin of your neck, stubble scratchy and delicious against your skin.

"Is it okay?" he asked, halting, but not disconnecting from you.

"It's always okay." and with that, you turned to him, engaging his lips with your own.

Every night he'd make his way into bed with you, would put his hands on you, liberal in the way he touched you. It was new, this lack of hesitancy, but you easily grew used to it. It wasn't as if he didn't seek you out before, but he'd been less doubtful about it as of late.

And when he came home too late to find you awake, he'd just lay next to you. You always encouraged him the following morning, told him he could do whatever he wanted even if you weren't fully there by the time he found himself in your shared bed. He'd stammer, look away, but you could always see something in his eye that told you he wanted it too.

But for now, you'd wait. You'd let him have you while awake, waiting for the day in which you enticed him enough to do with you as he pleased while you were deep in slumber, have you wake up to his hands on you, him inside you.

He continued kissing you, bringing you close, molding his body into yours as if he just couldn't get you close enough. Needy, he sighed your name against your lips, gripped the meat of your thighs, groaned every time you'd pull at his hair and bite his lip.

Rolling you to your back, he placed himself halfway atop you, none of his weight on you. Hovering over you, he licked into your mouth, needy, greedy. And you gave yourself to him, naturally following his every move, your body and his in a synchronized dance you'd grown fond of.

You were always the needier one out of the two of you, always pulling him just a little bit closer, begging against his lips and making him choke in an intake of breath. But today he responded to your neediness, almost as if competing against you. He'd been like this as of late, unashamed in needing you and making sure you knew about it.

"Wanna fuck me?" you mumbled against his lips.

He nodded, lips refusing to part from yours, hands attempting to mold against every inch of skin they came into contact with.

"Can I?" and he always asked. Unnecessary, but it always made you swoon.

"Please."

When he was about to roll fully on top of you, your hands pressed on his shoulders, softly pushing him back and making him halt his movements.

"Can I be on top?" it was whispered, as words always were in your shared bed. It was mumbled between lips, a lick accompanying every few words.

"Yeah ... Shit, yeah."

Now with your thighs straddling his, you leaned down, kissing at his chest, nibbling here and there, licking up his pec and circling his nipple. There, you took turns while your nails softly scratched down his abdomen. It was a sensitive area for him, you knew. Always loved the soft red lines that'd leave their mark there for the following days.

Between you, your hand fished for his hardness, slow in wrapping around his base and slowly beginning to jerk him off. Every sigh of pleasure from his lips was swallowed by yours. And every quiet encouragement for more was licked into your lips.

"That feel good?" you whispered against him, lips trailing down to his ear, licking its shell, earning a shiver from him.

"Yes." he sighed. "Don't stop."

"Want more?"

He nodded, head digging into the mattress beneath him, hands gripping at the sheets, moving from your hips when the pleasure began building up, unwilling to bruise you with his strength.

"Yeah? Want me to ride you, baby?"

Every word was whispered, each one with a slight tilt of patronization that both frustrated him and made that pit in his stomach burn with desire. His hips matched the rhythm of your hand, desperate for more, begging for something tighter, warmer, wetter to wrap around him.

But he didn't have to beg for long. All it took was a few more whimpers, for his desperate eyes to look into yours and for his lips to seek your own for you to finally take pity on him and press your naked cunt against his dick. Once there, you tortured him some more, running his tip up and down your wetness, circling it around your clit and causing the two of your to cry in tandem.

When you lowered yourself onto him, you couldn't help the whimper escaping your lips. Your body shuddered, back bowing on top of him and fingers digging into his toned chest. His hands finally found your hips, gripping the fat there and holding you down against him, rendering you unable to move.

Trying to grind, bounce, do anything was completely futile. Andrew's brusque strength was too much for you to do anything other than take his size, his girth, and torture yourself as you laid still on top of him.

"Andrew ... I wanna- Please-"

"Just- Give me a second." he gritted, teeth bared. His eyebrows lifted, face taking on a look of shock, barely able to take in the tightness you surrounded him with. "Wanna last for you."

That only made you tighten. You weren't sure why. Having him so perfect under you, so affected when you were just existing around him, it broke your brain. He had the same effect on you, he just had a harder time realizing it.

Still, you shook your head petulantly. You didn't care if he came. Didn't give a shit if he filled you up after just one bounce. You'd use him past his limits. You had done so before, and you'd do it again. He'd let you. He'd whimper and writhe under you, but he'd moan and cry your name all the same.

But there was no need for that this time around. Instead, he took pity on you. Using his brute strength, he began moving you on top of him. It was so easy for him, requiring minimal effort as he matched your movements to the thrusting of his hips. He pistoned at you from below, making your boobs bounce with every move.

It was too much. You weren't fully there. You usually weren't when he'd use you like this. It mostly became a mess of slapping skin and gasps of each other's name with the occasional expletive thrown in there.

"That good?" he grunted. "You feel so- You're perfect." the words barely made it all the way out of his lips. But it was fine. You leaned down to kiss them away.

Tongues swirled together, unable to engage in a kiss anything but deprived as you bounced on him. He guided the grinding of your hips and sucked at your tongue.

Dizzy, completely out of it, you cried his name, a silent warning for your impending high.

He always managed this. He'd flip things over on you. No matter how needy and wanting of you he was, he always managed to have you be the panting mess by the end of it all. Your needs were prioritized, your orgasm always first.

Once you deflated atop him, he kept fucking up into you, groaning into your ear when his orgasm finally took him under. His body tensed under yours as he filled you up, hands kneading at your ass after the fact, unable to pull you away from him, silently wanting to keep you full for as long as he could.

"I think you fucked me sleepy." you mumbled, cheek pressed to his chest. His arms were wrapped around you, pulling your entire chest on him. It comforted him, he'd say.

"Want me to clean you up?"

"In a minute. Too comfy. You're too comfy, I hate you." you gave him lip, but still kissed his cheek, mumbling soft words up until you became too sleepy to continue.

He gave you a few minutes before he dragged your tired form to the connected restroom, helping you to the toilet so you'd pee, putting a fresh pair of panties on you, tucking you in beside him before turning off the lights and tugging you back into his hold.

➽──────────────────❥

But things couldn't ever remain good for too long.

It'd been a good few months of domestic bliss between you and Andrew. A life in which you worked around each other, comfortable and content.

The length of the engagement was never discussed, but Andrew didn't mind it. You were already married as far as he was concerned. You were his, and he was yours, and he didn't need care much for a legal document stating so. But part of him also wanted to experience that part of life with you. Wanted to see you in that white dress, to have Deran walk you down the aisle just before you kissed him in front of all your loved ones, loud in declaring the way you were now tied to each other. He wanted you to have his kids, to upgrade from your lone cat to an actual child, two, three. One with your eyes and your smile and nothing of his (but he knew you'd get angry if he said that).

He found himself thinking about it more and more often lately. It brought some shame in him. Why, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was that he was keeping you away from what he believed could be a way better life. Or maybe all the shit he'd put you through. He'd stolen your youth after all, had taken a chunk of your twenties and had inadvertently broken your heart multiple times.

Yet you were still here, still happy just to be by his side (no matter how little sense that made to him), still making what used to be his miserable life into something not only bearable, but something he looked forward to every day.

And then he bumped into Amy.

It'd been a long time since he'd thought about her. Hadn't crossed his mind since that night he went back to Smurf's and found you there, crying because he'd scared you, had made you think he'd left without saying goodbye. But she wasn't a bad memory anymore. You'd helped with that, whether you'd meant to or not.

There were no feelings for her left in him. Still, he felt awkward at seeing her again after the way things had ended.

Last time he'd seen her, she'd been yelling at him to get out, terrified after he'd made the mistake of opening up to her, almost muttering a confession to Cath's murder. Or maybe he'd finished his sentence, he couldn't recall. It was all fuzzy, buried deep down in the embarrassment he felt at the way she'd cried, terrified of him, begging him to get out.

He snapped out of it when she called his name.

He'd taken one of his frequent skaters to the ER after a nasty fall. Some kid who'd been squatting at the lot. Shitty mom, shitty life, things he could relate to. He'd spotted Amy sitting in one of the many chairs, had tried to leave before she saw him, but he'd been too slow.

Before he knew it, she was already standing right in front of him, having spotted him from across the room.

"Hi, Amy." he grimaced, awkward.

"Who's that?" she gestured to the kid, the reason Andrew was here in the first place.

"He's just a kid from my skate park." he shrugged. He was playing it cool, unsure why.

"Your skate park?"

"Yeah, I felt like building something, s-so I did, and then these kids just all started all showing up." he mumbled. "It's just a few ramps. I mean, it's ... it's not a big deal."

"That's great." she smiled.

"Are you sick?" he asked, wondering why she was there.

She didn't look sick. Looked great, pretty much the same as before. Maybe a little less sad than she did back when they first met. He wondered if she'd gotten her kid back, if she'd gotten a new job. She probably did, judging by the blue waitress outfit she had on.

"Oh. Uh, no. Another waitress I worked with sliced her hand, and I was the only one who had a car, so..."

She was just as awkward as he was. He wasn't sure why she'd even come up to him.

The nurse interrupted then, calling for the kid, Taylor, to come back so they could take a look at him. When asked about payment, he looked to Andrew, interrupting the conversation, unsure of what to say.

"C-cash." Andrew stuttered.

"Hey." Amy called his attention again, smiling softly. "That's a good thing you're doing, with that kid."

Andrew scoffed, not in a mean way, but in a 'not really' type of way. "I don't know about that."

"It was good to see you, Andrew." she smiled at him once more when her friend came out through the same door Taylor had entered just now, telling her she was ready to go.

"Yeah, you too."

Andrew thought about her the rest of the day. He felt guilty about it, too. There was no reason for her to be in his mind, yet she was. He'd had a connection with her, one that took him back to when he was a teen, when he'd craved the acceptance the church offered him.

But he didn't want anything with her. Not like that. Not now that he had you, now that you were so ingrained in his life, so vital for his existence that he didn't know what to do with himself anymore.

Later on, she'd called him, shy, awkward, something that would've had him running laps if you weren't in the picture.

But you were. And he was willing to run laps around you every minute of the day if it meant you'd even look at him. But you looked at him regardless. Always with infatuation in your eyes, infatuation he didn't know how he came to deserve, but that he took in all the same.

It felt like cheating, taking the call. Having even bumped into her made him feel like shit, specially when he came home and didn't tell you about it as soon as he arrived that day.

When Amy suggested meeting up to rehash old things, to get some closure, he still found himself saying yes. He wasn't sure why, or what purpose it'd really serve, but he still did it.

This time he decided to tell you about it. He couldn't keep anything from you. Couldn't live with himself if you ever felt inadequate with anything he did. He was yours, which meant he'd make you privy to every detail of his life, whether you asked him to or not.

"Oh." was your initial response.

"Yeah, I, uh, she called me. Asked if we could have dinner. Wants some closure or something." he avoided your eyes, unsure of how you'd feel about it all.

"I never knew how things ended between you." you started, hands fidgeting a bit. "Was there ever any ... overlap?"

Andrew shook his head, adamant. "No. Of course not."

There'd been overlap in his feelings, which he'd told you about a small while after first getting together with you. He'd revealed it guiltily, angry with himself, feeling as if he'd somehow cheated on you as he admitted it. He'd liked you first, simply too much of an idiot to do anything about if, finding Amy before he could build up the courage to try anything with you. But as usual, you reassured him, told him you understood, that he didn't owe anything to you from before you got together.

You nodded. Your demeanor was off. A little awkward, maybe even uncomfortable.

"You can go see her, if you want. It's really up to you."

"Are you angry?" he had to ask. It was a habit. One he knew he didn't need to propagate with you, but also one that'd been beaten into him so deeply by Smurf, he could no longer get rid of it.

Your features softened, the blank look on your face leaving and morphing into one of understanding.

"Hey." you took his hand. "If you feel like you need some final goodbye or something, I understand." you reassured him. "Just ... does she think it's a date? I mean, did she ask you to dinner as a date?"

Andrew shook his head again, taking a step closer to you, hand leaving yours so he could hold your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone. "No. I'll tell her all about you. Just wanna get some closure. She knows it's not a date."

And against his better judgment, he went on with his plan. You were okay with it, a little unsure, maybe, but he felt relieved at your understanding. Part of him still sought forgiveness from Amy, for what he'd done to the church, for what he'd almost done to her, for the fear he'd caused. He needed to let go of that one last part of his past.

➽──────────────────❥

Later that night, he went back to the skate park. He wanted to clear his mind a bit. You were out anyways. Some night shift at the hospital. He hated those, they scared him on your behalf. Didn't like it when you were out alone late at night.

He'd found that kid Taylor there, hiding in the small opening found at the bottom of the ramp he'd built with Auge.

It only took a few minutes of back and forth before Andrew decided to take him in, let him stay at his house. But not your apartment, no, he meant the Cody residence. He didn't want to make this your problem. He already felt shit enough because of the Amy thing, even if you'd said it didn't bother you.

Meanwhile, things continued to fall out of order with the guys.

Andrew wasn't sure what was going on with Craig. Only knew that his relationship with sobriety had been going hot and cold lately. He wanted his son back, but couldn't really let go of his old lifestyle (one that he'd lived with since diapers, basically). After Renn ran off with their kid for a second time, he finally gave sobriety a real go, but he'd been overly temperamental as of late, the withdrawals breaking his resolve time and time again. This also caused his usually tight-knit relationship with Deran to suffer, and it was glaring to everyone around them.

J had been trying to make their work more legit. He'd been doing all types of shit behind the scenes as he tried to keep the Cody family afloat. Andrew had grown more trusting of him, but he still had to keep an eye peeled. He'd been getting with some hot-shot lawyer at the new firm they'd been dealing with. A married woman, one which Andrew advised him against, but again, he had no real control over the kid.

Deran was all the same. He had his bar, had his boy troubles, unable to settle with anyone unless it was Adrian, who he continued to mourn the loss of. You remained close, hanging at the bar with Deran whenever you weren't with Andrew at the park or working at the hospital.

Tensions were growing with the guys, which kept Andrew's focus away from shit that was actually important.

That was how he missed the first few signs that things were about to go downhill, more steep than they'd ever been.

-

The day of his dinner with Amy, he found himself more nervous than he thought he would be.

It was stupid. All he wanted was to apologize, to see if he hadn't fucked things up in her life the way he'd been feeling guilty about.

But it all gave him flashbacks to that first date. To the time in which he'd gone out, bought a new lavender shirt to wear, feeling guilty as he conversed with Amy, kissed her, all while you were in the back of his head. This felt similar in nature, except he now had you waiting at home for him, ring in hand and warming up his bed.

Amy picked the place, and he stopped by early to make sure they had a good table for them. One that was secluded and quiet so they could talk. It had been Auge's suggestion. But then again, Auge had confused the whole thing with a date, to which Andrew responded angrily, taking issue with the suggestion that he'd cheat on you, aware Auge knew of you, had met you multiple times.

His dinner with Amy was originally side-tracked by a woman searching for Taylor, that kid he'd decided to take in.

It frustrated Andrew, never having been one to deal with sudden obstacles very well. He liked order, and when things sent him out of place, he never really knew how to react. But still, the woman claimed to be his mom, seemed worried about him, and so he helped.

Which turned fruitless. In the end he left, already inching into tardiness for his dinner, and already feeling a weird surge of nerves within him that was not helped by the interruption. He felt bad leaving the woman like that, but he didn't know where to find Taylor and didn't want to spend the afternoon chasing ghosts. He'd last seen him at the Cody house, but he was gone now. Not much he could've really done about it.

There was an awkward half-hug involved in their greeting. Andrew had never been good at social stuff, so this wasn't out of the ordinary. Amy wasn't too socially-savvy either, as far as Andrew remembered.

"I was afraid you weren't gonna show up to this. I was pretty nervous." were his first words as he sat down across from her.

"Yeah. Um, I mean, I thought about not coming." she responded, avoiding eye contact a bit. "But I wanted to see you again. And, um ... I owe you an apology."

Andrew took in a breath, not expecting this.

He meant to come here to deliver an apology, not receive one.

"I mean, I expect God to forgive me the way He promised, but I know that He asks that I do the same." she gave him an apologetic smile, reaching across the table for his hand. "And I judged you. When what I should have done was forgiven you. It's God's place to judge you, not mine, not anyone's." she looked remorseful, eyes downcast and eyebrows lowered. "Forgive me. Please forgive me."

Andrew sat in silence for a while, stunned.

It was hard for him to see things the same way. Despite how hurt he'd felt after Amy's rejection, he ultimately understood. He had blamed himself, knowing it was an unforgivable thing, what he'd confessed to her. He had never expected anyone to forgive him, not God, not her, not even you. But when you'd forgiven him, when you'd told him that if he wasn't willing to give himself some forgiveness, that you'd do it in his name, he realized that that was all he needed.

And though he occasionally thought back to Amy, back to how terrified she'd been of him when he'd shared his turmoil about what he'd done to Cath, he felt at fault. He didn't feel deserving of this apology. Specially when he'd found his forgiveness elsewhere. Forgiveness he worked every day to earn, forgiveness he still didn't feel he deserved.

"Oh, you didn't do anything wrong."

She shook her head. "I did."

Amy continued to apologize, sitting in that small cornered table. The ambience was quiet, allowing for Andrew to take in every word, as misdirected as they all felt.

He apologized back, unsure and closed off, but he needed to get the words out of his chest.

The dinner went by fast, and by the end of it, Amy insisted on pushing forward her card, shaking her head when Andrew insisted on paying.

"You can pay next time, promise." she smiled at him as they walked out.

His steps stuttered, and so did he. "As- as friends, right?"

Amy faltered too, then. Her head tilted questioningly, "Friends?"

"Uh, yeah. I actually ... I got engaged a few months ago."

It hadn't come up during dinner. He didn't know how to bring it up without sounding like an asshole. He also wasn't very sure what Amy meant when she'd asked him to meet up, and he didn't want to assume. It didn't make sense to him for this to be a date considering the way in which she'd kicked him out last time she saw him. But based on the way she was looking at him right now, it seemed he had read things wrong.

"Oh." she smiled, furrowing her eyebrows. "I- I had no idea, Andrew. Congratulations." her hand came to his shoulder amicably, letting go within a few seconds.

They continued walking side by side into the night, with Andrew walking Amy towards her car, fists clenching and unclenching.

"We can still meet up again. Someday. Maybe I could bring her."

Lame and awkward proposal, but it was there. He wasn't sure how to be polite about this, or how to let someone down, really. No one had ever liked him, so there had never been someone to let down.

Before she could respond, they were intercepted by a woman — that same woman from earlier, Taylor's mom.

"I'm sorry. I-I waited as long as I could." she turned to Amy. "Um, I'm ... I'm Louise. Pope was helping me look for my son earlier today."

Amy was startled, but nodded. "Oh, yeah. He told me about that. I'm Amy. Did you find him?"

Louise turned to Andrew, finding his icy glare. "I'm sorry. No. I- I left my phone in your car, and I thought I lost it, but then I, um ... what was it? I figured out a way to locate it, and it's in your car." she rambled on, nervous, "You're on a date. I'm so sorry."

"No, no, no, no. It's fine. I should go anyway." Amy laughed awkwardly, looking between Andrew and Louise. "Um, go help her."

"Are you sure?" asked Andrew.

"Yeah."

Andrew nodded, not really trusting this Louise character, and not really wanting to have to deal with her, but agreed anyway. "Alright. Thank you for dinner. Drive safe."

Once left alone, the woman seemed a little less awkward, a little more forward. The lack of an audience probably helped to whatever it was that she wanted from Andrew. But Andrew didn't trust the way her eyes followed Amy as she walked to her car, nor did he trust her excessive stammering as she asked him if she could go check his car, look for her phone there.

When she finally found it, he was cutting, unwilling to engage more than necessary. Her phone was in her hands now, and now she needed to be gone. Not that he was mad at his time with Amy being cut short, but he just didn't trust her presence, suddenly appearing right after he'd allowed Taylor into his house, right after his subsequent disappearance from there.

It didn't take long for Andrew to make it back home, but he'd decided to head to the Cody house before actually going to your shared apartment. He had some things to look over. The woman's sudden appearance, her following him, it had spiked a distrust in him. Alarms were going off in his head.

Perhaps he was too obsessive, too much of a perfectionist in things that didn't really matter. But in moments like these, he was the one who noticed the small changes.

He'd told Taylor to stay in the garage, to not go into the house, and to leave during the day, to only sleep there for as long as he'd be squatting at the Cody's. Yet, when he came inside, he found shit rearranged. Cereal boxes were flipped, specs of dust suddenly gone. But more than anything, there were gaps in the surveillance cameras.

Someone had fucked with his house. Which meant they'd fucked with him.

Andrew's first suspects in mind were Taylor and Louise, his supposed mother.

He'd look this over, work it through on his own before taking it to his brothers. Before taking it to you.

➽──────────────────❥

Waking up in your shared bed the next morning, he heard you come in through the front door.

You were making as little noise as possible, he could always tell. It was an unnecessary habit of yours, and he'd told you as such every time you returned home from a night shift. Having always been a light sleeper, he'd always wake up with the lightest of noise. Specially so if he'd been expecting you the previous night.

Your night shifts were coming to an end, something he was glad about. He worried, despite his best efforts, any time you were gone and he wasn't around. Sometimes he'd go as far as to stay up through the night in case you called him.

"Andrew? Shit, did I wake you again?" you asked as you walked into your shared room, finding him sitting up on the bed.

Still undressed, he half-laid there, shirtless, sheets covering his lower half and small cat fast asleep on your pillow. Andrew minded it on your behalf, but you didn't.

"You didn't. I was waiting up for you."

You smiled at him as you put your stuff away, taking off any remnants of the day as you undressed. It was domestic, reaching a level of comfortability Andrew never imagined he'd grow so accustomed to.

As per usual, he watched you quietly as you undressed and got yourself ready for bed. He'd lay with you for a while, sleep by your side for a few extra hours before he actually started his day. It was another downside to your night shifts; the inability to sleep beside you.

"I hate night shifts." you groaned lightly. "Miss sleeping with you." you'd made it into the covers by then, kissing your cat's fur before turning to Andrew and huddling against him.

"It's almost over."

"Yeah." you sighed. "Fucking finally. How was your day? Your dinner go well?"

The space between you was practically nonexistent now. You were in his arms, bare skin of your chest pressed against his own. Sandwiched between you were your own arms, tracing shapes on his chest and pressing the occasional kiss there. He breathed in your hair, and you let him, smiling against his skin at his every touch.

"Yeah. She, uh, wanted to apologize for what happened last time." he said, not wanting to get into details. You knew what he was talking about. It'd been talked about at some point, with wavering eyes and a broken-down tone of voice. "Told her I was engaged. She was happy for me."

"Yeah? I'm glad it went well, baby."

And you meant it. There was no hidden agenda, no buried negative feelings to be found between your words. It was so unfamiliar to him, but you'd helped him realize that there were no tricks behind your feelings. You were always open with him, letting him let his guard down.

"Don't think I'll see her again, though. I'd rather take you to dinner." he mumbled against you.

You giggled. This was his form of flirting. Not very direct, kind of lame. But it always got a giggle out of you, sometimes a kiss as a reward. He'd been getting bolder with it, but not really.

"Yeah? Where you taking me?" you played along, leg lifting, perching over his waist and cuddling just a little closer.

"Everywhere."

"Hmm. Sounds fun." you yawned. The day was getting to you. A damn twelve hour shift. It made him scoff internally. "Tell me more."

So he did. He kept talking, all said in a hushed tone, almost directly into your ear. His voice lulled you to sleep. You'd told him as much before. He couldn't understand it, but if it meant you'd fall asleep in his arms, find refuge in him after a tiring day, then he'd keep doing it.

-

A few hours later, Andrew stopped by the skate park. He was looking for Taylor, had a few questions for the kid.

Predictably enough, he wasn't able to get is answers through simple words, which forced him to resort to violent means.

A few punches were enough to scare the kid into blabbing. About how this Louise character wasn't really his mom, how she was a cop, a dirty one who didn't do shit the straight way. He told Andrew about how she'd been tailing Andrew, using him so he could get info on Andrew, used him as a way to get into his house without anyone else knowing.

More than anger him, this terrified Andrew.

A cop had been to his house, had been following him around. She knew about Amy, probably knew about you too. She'd seen God knows what inside the Cody residence, had had access to their security tapes, had been using this kid to get intel on Andrew and his brothers.

And now Andrew had to handle this shit somehow. He had to prioritize his family, work around the system to find a way to keep them all safe, specially you.

He couldn't go the usual way about this all. He was dealing with someone dirty, someone he couldn't get rid of in the same way he had gotten rid of other obstacles before.

Figuring out a way to get the dirty cop alone wasn't too difficult all things considered. It was simple math.

She wasn't from the district, that much was obvious to Andrew. Must've been a transplant from a different county. That was how she was getting away with going incognito on him, with trailing him without anyone being aware of her going around the lawful way of doing things — not that Andrew rolled that way, but he'd at least grown used to crooked cops being upfront about it.

Using the kid, he was able to get her car to break down, blackmailing a Trujillo into towing her car back to wherever it was that she was staying. That's how he found himself inside her motel room, waiting for her to get out of the bathroom, her gun already in hand after having ransacked the place in her absence.

They did a little back and forth for a while. Useless bureaucracy that was seemingly present in every corner of life, even as he sat in a crooked cop's motel room he'd basically broken into.

He didn't know what she wanted, who she was exactly, but he was confident he could break her. He'd done it countless times, this would not be any different.

And he'd been sure, up until the point where she said her name.

"Who killed Catherine Belen?"

She wasn't scared of him. Didn't blink when he offered a payoff, didn't even flinch when he told her he didn't do payoffs, that he'd rather rid the world of her instead. And she was completely confident as she asked him the question, already knowing the answer.

"You?" she continued. "Baz? Your mother?"

She was toying with him. She enjoyed the power she held at that moment. Andrew might've been the one with the weapon, the one towering over her, but she held all the cards.

"You want to kill me? I've already uploaded my notes. They'll come right after you."

Andrew stood there, frozen, eyes angry and intense, unknowing of what to say. He just took it, the same way he took every venomous word Smurf threw his way.

She stood up, meeting his eyeline, eyes full of poison. "You want to kill me, Andrew? Go ahead." she taunted. "Go kill another woman. Why not? They can only fry you once."

No more words left his lips after that. He listened, let her burn him with her eyes, her words, not retaliating.

Because he couldn't. She'd gotten him where it hurt the most. She knew of his worst crime, the one he regretted the most, the one that had scarred him the deepest. He'd hurt who he'd thought to be the love of his life at the time. And although he now realized he'd been wrong, it still burned him inside.

He went back to the Cody house. It was your last day on night shift anyway. He wouldn't find you at home, so he opted to go to the guys instead. It'd all been a stupid fuck-up. He'd been in over his head, unaware that every action had led to this moment, that his downfall had been in the making since he'd been let out of prison four years ago.

Deran and J were having a drink by the pool by the time he arrived. They were laughing, even trying to get him in on the joke as he approached them, solemn. But he had to destroy the fun. He always did.

"A cop has been tailing me." he said as he took a seat.

That stopped both men on their tracks.

"Since when?" asked Deran.

"I don't know."

"And?" J urged, swinging his beer, tense.

"She knows."

"She knows what?" Deran pushed.

Andrew took a deep breath, unwilling to say the words he'd been keeping inside for years, but knowing that it was time. He couldn't run from it anymore.

"I killed Cath." he breathed out. "I did it for Smurf."

-

Andrew didn't know how to go home to you after that.

He hung around the house for a few hours, letting the night end and the day begin. Things were quiet between him and the guys, with no one knowing what to say. Craig was still AWOL, spending time with Renn basically full time now that Renn let him back into hers and Nick's lives.

Everything felt bleak. Like it was all finally coming to an end. Running from the law for the entirety of his life had proved fruitless in the end. It all came to a close like this, with Andrew cowering in the home he'd grown up in, unable to go face the love of his life, tell her it was all over, that any whispered plan between the sheets was now impossible, that he'd ruined everything.

He left somewhere during the night, deciding to torture himself some more and go visit the place where it'd all happened — Baz's old apartment. The same room in which he'd killed Cath. And the same room where he first shared a home with you.

Andrew stayed in bed all day. Your calls went unanswered, left to die as his phone vibrated on his bedside table as he laid on his side and let his wallowing consume him. He was a victim of his own doing.

Deran eventually found him, dragged him back to the house, made him food, tried to get him to talk, but it was all fruitless. Only some of his questions about the investigation were answered, but Andrew remained mostly closed off. He couldn't help himself, not when all the walls were closing in on him.

It took you a few hours to make it there. After Andrew's continued silence, you began calling Deran, who must've told you where he was. Andrew heard it all from his room, hearing murmurs of conversation between Deran and the rest. And eventually your worried voice through the speaker joined in.

By the time you'd made it to the Cody house, Andrew had already been forced out of his shell. Craig had arrived a little while before you, marching to Andrew's room, dragging him off his ass and shoving him in the shower, fully clothed. It'd all been aggressive, but Andrew didn't have it in him to fight back anymore. He wanted it all to end, couldn't get himself to fight against any of it. Much less could he face you.

When you went to find Andrew, he was in a fetal position in the shower, face hidden between his hands and knees, sobbing quietly. He remained fully clothed, drenched by then, not even hearing you come in.

"Andrew?" you asked, steps hesitant as you approached him.

He looked up, finding your worried figure. You were still in your scrubs, probably having ran here straight from work.

Andrew knew of your calls. Eight total, all within the past three hours. He knew you got off early in the morning, having worked your very last night shift last night. You must've worried when he didn't show up at your apartment, when he didn't pick up your usual call when you got off work, one he always insisted on due to his worries about you being out and about so late at night.

And now you were here, watching him have a breakdown and trying not to succumb to one of your own.

He wasn't sure if Deran had told you about anything that'd happened in the past 14 hours, but part of him hoped he had. That way he wouldn't have to look at the heartbroken look on your face when he broke the news to you.

"Baby, what happened?"

But life could never be that gracious with Andrew.

You entered the shower, turning off the faucet and sitting on the wet tiles with him, uncaring of soaking your clothes. Your hands went to him, pulling him close, breathing with him, trying to get him to calm down.

You did so for about ten minutes, until you managed to get him to breathe. Because you always did. You were the one source of calm in his life, one he'd get ripped away from far too soon.

"Deran told me something happened. Said it was bad."

He took in a breath, but it was shaky, pathetic.

"They ... they know." he started, blinking hard. His eyes found the necklace dangling from your neck, eyeing the ring you wore around your neck whenever you worked. It made a sob leave his body, made him break again. "The cops. They know I killed Cath."

This was the first time he'd ever said those words to you. You knew, and he knew you knew. He had said anything but those exact words, revealed it to you the night you first got together, but you'd accepted him, loved him regardless, so it never truly came up again. Except now it was back to haunt him, and worst of all, to haunt you too.

You stayed silent for a few seconds. But you held him closer, tightened your grip on him, sobbing out a sudden cry.

"Andrew, n-no ..."

He cried then too, hand gripping yours, thumbing the finger that held the ghost of your ring. "I'm- I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

The two of you sobbed, cried, with your cries eventually becoming muted, losing your breaths as you held each other, clothes soaked and spirits quickly broken. There was a heaviness he'd never felt before. A weight he knew could not be lifted.

"What's going to happen now?" you asked after a few moments of silence, hands still on Andrew in some way.

He shrugged, coughed, cleared his throat. "I have to turn myself in."

When you shook your head, he brought his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbing at the tears dampening your cheeks.

"It'll be okay." he reassured, not believing it himself. But your sad eyes made him break inside out. He hated himself for doing this to you. Even a temporary fix was better than this. "I'll make sure everything's okay, yeah?"

"But ... nothing's okay. Not if they take you away from me." you wallowed.

"I'll come back to you. I don't care how, but I will."

He made you this promise, unsure if he'd be able to fulfill it. But there was nothing else he could offer you at that moment.

His future with you was uncertain now.

-

You sat back as the guys discussed what happened.

The guys had eventually rushed you out of the bathroom, with Craig yelling at you to get out, to come face this shit with them. It made you angry, feeling far too much for Andrew right now to even process what had happened. The instinct to hold him and keep him all to yourself gnawed at you, but you knew that squatting in the shower and wallowing over it wouldn't help. So the two of you dried off, got dressed, and unwillingly made it to the living room for an impromptu family meeting.

You zoned out as they spoke of the details, running through them in order to see if there was any way out of this.

You didn't want to hear any of it. It made you sick, no matter how badly you loved Andrew.

He looked ashamed as he explained it, flinched when Craig would ask for more details, itching for a loophole in it all that would get them out of this situation. You held his hand all the while, but your eyes never met each other's. The pair of you were dead-eyed, burning holes into the carpet in front of you and completely given up.

There was no logical way out of this. You knew as much. It made you want to cry as you eyed the ring on your finger, the one you wore around your neck while working, never wanting to be away from it.

You'd never met Cath, but you knew she was a good woman, that she was Andrew's first love and that she'd chosen Baz over him hundreds of times. Imagining what his heartbreak must've been like always made you sick, but you never commented on it when he'd occasionally bring it up. You'd hold him, kiss his chest, tell him you loved him, that he was a clear choice to you. But discussions of Cath never went further than that.

There'd been times in which you got pieces of the puzzle. A look or a stray sentence that'd give you more details about how Cath's death came to be, but you dug them deep into your consciousness. You loved Andrew. Enough to overlook the horrible acts his mother made him take part in. You empathized with his childhood, aware that he was a victim of his environment, a casualty brought up by his upbringing.

Eventually they called up a lawyer, but things continued to look bleak.

The cop was crooked, that much was known by her bureau. But that wasn't enough to get the case thrown. The fact that she'd followed Andrew, had used a decoy under false pretenses, that she was working a case out of her jurisdiction. None of it mattered. It just took a few hours for it to dawn on you all.

It was agreed that Andrew would turn himself in.

He had a separate charge, one for assault. Detective Louise Thompson had made it up as bait to get him in, question him. But turning himself in and paying the bail was the best move.

The guys all agreed to pay as much as necessary. Half a million, a million, whatever it took.

From the corner of your eye, you saw J tense up at this, and it only made that feeling in your chest heavier.

In the end it was agreed upon. You and Deran would go drop him off at the station, would watch him get taken away and locked up.

Before you left, you got Andrew alone. The guys had dispersed, all solemn in their demeanor as it dawned on them that their eldest would be taken away, locked up — even if it was meant to be for a short while.

As he stood in front of the pool, you walked to his side, grabbing his hand bringing it up to your lips, kissing it, crying into it.

"You did this for them. You know that, right? To protect them. Like you always have."

He nodded, sad, eyes still lost in the clear water of the pool. It had some algae in it, and you knew Andrew's eyes were probably focused on it. Even at the worst of moments, he was who he was.

"Still, I did it." his voice broke. "And now ... Now I'm leaving you here. Alone." he shook his head in disbelief, tears already welling.

You tried to snap him out of it, forcing yourself in front of him and grabbing onto his cheeks. You brought him to your eyesight, forcing the eye contact as you spoke.

"You're coming back to me. Do you understand? This isn't it." you heaved. "You still need to marry me, remember? I'll just have to wait for you a little longer."

Stiff and defeated, he still nodded, a sad but slight curl of his lip showing up before you pecked his lips. The kiss tasted like tears, salty and tangy, but you still deepened it, miserable inside but putting it aside to give yourself this last kiss before things started crumbling down.

➽──────────────────❥

Objectively, Andrew had been through worse things than being booked. Hell, he'd been booked before. Proceeded by an actual incarceration.

But it all felt favorable over the moment in which be had to say goodbye to you. The moment they snapped the cuffs shut and he could hear you crying behind him, likely using Deran as a pillar to hold yourself up as your tears got the best of you.

He'd never heard you cry like that before. It was tormenting. The shrieks made his eyes close shut, bile rise up his throat only to be harshly swallowed down as he tried to keep himself together.

Deran shushed you, but Andrew kept looking forward. Because if he looked back, found your bloodshot eyes and the shine of that ring on your finger, he knew he'd fight tooth and nail to at least get to wipe a few of those tears.

He got taken into custody very quickly. Got checked, dragged into an interrogation room and found himself sitting in front of Louise Thompson all within the hour.

What was originally supposed to be a quick in-and-out situation turned bleaker than expected sooner than he thought.

At first it was a mention of Lena's name. Louise had questioned her, had found out that Lena remembered Andrew driving her and her mom into the desert in the middle of the night.

Andrew had always known that'd been a risk, but he knew that wasn't enough to stand on.

Then Louise brought up Amy.

She'd tailed her after the dinner, cornered her, gotten her to slip up and mention Andrew's confession to her.

And when things couldn't get worse, your name left her lips.

"Getting this out of your ex wasn't too hard. I just wanted to warn her about you, but she slipped. You gave her all the details, huh, Andrew? And then ... Then I thought, if your ex knew about Cath, your fiancé probably knows too. Am I right?" she smirked, head tilting triumphantly.

Andrew stopped breathing then. The moment your name was uttered, the moment his fiancé was mentioned, everything was over.

"You don't want me to have to verify this, do you?" she asked, a mocking tilt to her voice. "This could implicate her. She'd serve time. Both of them would."

Even picturing it felt like punishment. His time in prison had changed him, had been worse torture than an entire life tied to Smurf. He couldn't put you through it, couldn't drag you lower than he already had.

You'd hate him if he ever left you, if he turned himself in and never held you again. But he'd hate himself even more if he allowed you to face any danger because of his mistakes.

There was only one thing he could do.

"You know the path to redemption. There's only one way."

He'd confess to Cath's murder.

By the next morning, he was sure you already knew about his decision. You'd probably been waiting outside with Deran, waiting to pay the bail and take him home. But as the hours passed and he sat in that cell, he could practically tell at what exact time the news must've been broken to you, at what time Deran found himself forced to drag you back home, away from him.

That was the worst part of it all.

Not being locked up for life, not being caught killing his brother's wife, but being taken away from you. On top of the pain he felt at knowing he'd never get to hold you again, he felt destroyed at knowing how much it'd hurt you too.

He thought of that ring on your finger. The thought alone made him sick. He hoped you'd move on. That you wouldn't accept his decision, let yourself be rightfully angry and walk away.

You could have a happy life without him. He'd always been sure of it. This was for your best interest. Lena's, Amy's, yours.

-

"Andrew has a documented history of being disconnected from reality."

"So?" Deran asked.

"So it's enough to raise suspicion about his ability to understand what the detectives were asking him or what he was signing." the lawyer continued.

You were all gathered at the Cody house. All sans Andrew, who remained in prison.

It'd been a few weeks now. You hadn't gotten to see him yet. Everyone agreed against it, even Andrew, or so you'd heard from Deran. It was for the best, they'd all agreed. At least until they figured out a plan.

It broke you, knowing he was in there alone, knowing all the shit he'd been through last time he'd gotten locked up. He had shared every miserable detail with you, and it never failed to make you break, specially now.

This time around, the guys decided to pay for internal protection. All the money was circling around Andrew's imprisonment. His lawyers, his protection, his commissary, everything.

You could see how it bothered J. And it only made you even more furious. Andrew had done this to protect his family, and the newest member felt the right to try and stand against his protection.

You'd never met Julia, but you'd heard of the love shared between her and Andrew. You couldn't imagine her being okay with J's disdain towards her twin brother.

"It sounds like, uh, a lot to prove." argued J, ever the contrarian.

"No, we don't need to prove anything. We just need to raise the question why none of this was presented to the judge ahead of Andrew making a plea."

It sounded promising, but you'd learned not to get your hopes up. You hadn't bothered to speak much about the whole thing. Mostly, you'd shut down, quitting your job, isolating yourself with Deran as you mourned the loss of Andrew, however temporary everyone insisted it'd be.

Three weeks later, it didn't feel that temporary.

You still remembered the moment in which detective Louise Thompson walked up to you and Deran after they'd booked Andrew. The smug look on her face as she told you Andrew would be staying the night, her next words.

"You still have time to get away from him, honey. You don't know the type of man you're dealing with."

They'd been spoken with anything but sympathy. She wasn't looking out for you. She just had a score to settle — with herself. She needed to prove that she was better than her superiors thought, more than the demotion she'd been given after getting one of her CI's killed just outside of Oceanside. Deran had told you all about it in anger as the two of you drove back home.

You'd checked out of the conversation between the guys and the lawyers as you thought about everything that led you up to this moment. Until you heard someone say a familiar name.

"-the most damaging thing they have is Amy Wheeler's statement that Andrew described the crime to her."

You did a double take, gasping quietly and calling Deran and Craig's attention to yourself.

"She gave a statement?" you asked the lawyer.

He nodded. "It's the most damning thing they have. After Andrew told her, he implicated her. He implicated anyone he may have told about it."

Fuck.

That was it.

That was why Andrew had given up on the original plan, why he'd pled guilty and let himself be taken in. He wanted to protect Amy, make sure she didn't have to fall victim to a crime she had no part in.

And you.

You were the only other person he'd ever told. The only person who was aware of every detail, of where it'd taken place, the how's, the why's. He was trying to protect you before they could get to you in the same way they'd gotten to Amy.

Still, you couldn't help but feel angry at Amy for falling for it. Maybe it was leftover jealousy that he'd at some point chosen her over you, or maybe it was the dawning feeling that had he not gone to that dinner, this wouldn't have happened.

Nothing came from the rest of the meeting. Numbers were discussed, J continued to be a contrarian. It was a continuous battle between J and the three of you in regards of how to handle this. He kept insisting Andrew would eventually be so drugged up he'd snitch, while you practically growled at him and told him to get fucked as Deran tried to keep peace.

"We gotta do what we gotta do to get him out, but this shit takes time, okay?" Deran had a short fuse when it came to this situation. "We got to think this shit through."

"Then we break him out." Craig suggested.

Despite yourself, your ears perked up at that.

"What?" asked J, incredulous.

"We can't just leave him inside, man."

"What about this Amy? She's the real problem, right?" J continued. "And Lena."

"No one's touching Lena." you interjected. "I'd say do whatever you want about Amy, but Andrew won't let anything happen to her either."

"And that's just okay with you?" J scoffed.

"Mind your own relationship, Josh."

He scowled at you, shoulders tensing. Sore subject.

Deran walked between the two of you, blocking your view of each other. "I'll talk to Pope about Amy. But no kids."

-

Deran went to see Andrew later that day. And things weren't good.

Immediately, Andrew was adamant on not going to trial, on even considering getting his confession thrown out by the judge. He didn't care about any loopholes or ways around it. He was stubborn, angry about the suggestion.

Deran couldn't understand why. Specially when he had you outside those walls, waiting for him to come back.

It was just him and Andrew right now. Them, some guards nearby, a few other inmates and a clear wall separating them as they continued to disagree with each other. The sight was somewhat familiar to Deran, having visited his older brother in prison many years ago, but it still wasn't one he could be okay with getting used to.

"The lawyers said that they can get your confession thrown out." he insisted. "Okay? Thrown out. The only thing standing in the way is that they said testimony from some woman named... named Amy."

He remembered Amy. Not truly, not in any way that mattered. He just knew of her, knew she'd been a temporary thing before you came into Andrew's life. Against his better judgement, he felt disdain for the woman. She was inadvertently keeping his brother locked up, keeping his best friend's fiancé away from her.

"I don't want her to have to testify. Or Lena, okay?" Andrew huffed, a touch terrified, but mostly angry. "I don't want Lena to have to hear about it. Or see it."

Deran was about to continue to argue, not caring about what happened to either of them, but then Andrew continued.

"It's not just Amy." he swallowed. "They threatened Y/N. They said she was an accessory. That if I didn't confess, they'd find a way to make the argument that as my girlfriend, she knew."

His hold on the phone faltered as he stared into his brother's eyes. He was sure the worry in his eyes was reflecting on his own. The mention of your name instantly changed everything for Deran. Any confusion he had about Andrew's sudden change of mind, his willingness to never get to be with you again, it all made sense.

"Pope, they ... they can't do that. What if she doesn't have to testify? What if-"

"No. A lawyer can't promise that."

"Just thing about it."

"Nothing happens to her." Andrew barked. "Or Amy, or Lena. Do I make myself clear?" he hung the phone up in a harsh slam, getting up. "Guard!" he turned to Deran one last time. "Don't tell her about this. And don't come back."

-

"Pope got stabbed today."

You weren't sure how much more you could take.

He still refused to see you, Deran confirmed as much when he came back home from visiting Andrew, failing at getting him to accept going to trial.

Helplessness was all you'd been feeling from the moment you walked into that bathroom a few weeks ago and found Andrew soaked, crying, defeated as he told you what had happened. And at that moment you'd hoped he'd at least let you be with him throughout it all, but the last time you'd even gotten to see him had been when he first got booked.

Not knowing that'd be your final goodbye, there wasn't one.

You couldn't even muster a reaction to Deran's news about Andrew's stabbing. You just sat there, sighed and did your best to not cry again. You'd been crying too much lately.

"How bad? Is he okay?" Craig asked.

The three of you were gathered at the patio of the Cody house. Most time was spent there as of late.

"Yeah. He'll be fine. They didn't get him too bad. Some North Side San Diego gang shit. They're affiliated with the Trujillos. I guess they're still pissed about what went down with Pete."

Yet another thing Andrew had done for his family. Reckless, admittedly, but it hadn't been done on a whim. What happened with Pete was yet another instance in which Andrew had been left to do the dirty work, and now he was paying for it again.

"Whatever happened to the protection?" you asked. "What are you guys paying them for?"

"I don't know." sighed Deran. "They said they were gonna handle it."

"Well, man, we got to do something." Craig added. He'd been around a bit more ever since Andrew got arrested. Had surprised you how adamant he'd been about doing everything possible to get him out.

"I tried to smooth things over with the Trujillos."

"Yeah? How'd that go?"

Deran looked to you wearily before responding to Craig, sighing defeatedly. "She says they're gonna try to k*ll Pope. That we're weak ... with Smurf dead, Pope inside. People think we're vulnerable right now."

Craig handed you a beer, looked to you with some sort of remorse in his eyes. Both brothers walked on eggshells around you as of late. They'd stepped up, kept up with you, made sure you were as okay as you could be. Andrew would've been relieved by it. But thinking of Andrew made you too sad to indulge in.

Deran, got up from his seat, huddled next to you and wrapped his arm around you without a word.

"Hey." Craig called to you. "We're getting him out, okay? Just ... Don't think about it too much."

You nodded, eyes still downcast, a small yet sad smile gracing your lips.

J came in then, in a hurry, likely back from seeing his secret girlfriend. The one Andrew had told you about, one he didn't really trust. Or maybe it was J he didn't trust.

"Still have a couple of weeks to convince Pope before sentencing." J started.

"It's not gonna change his mind."

He continued anyway. "I have an address for that Amy. She's up in Orange County. DA have her in a hotel in Santa Ana. No police protection or anything."

"No-"

"Just go in there. I can take a gun ..."

"Then you're gonna have to kill me too." you took a swing of your beer, posture slouched, careless.

"Stop talking." Deran warned.

"He's not only protecting Amy." you kept going, there was nothing left to lose anymore. "It's me too. Thompson knows that I know about Cath. If Andrew lets this go to trial, of course his fiancé will have to testify. Then I'm up for obstruction and as an accessory."

Craig halted his movements mid sip of his beer, setting the bottle down as he looked to you in mild shock. J, in contrast, scowled at you again without saying anything. You were even more of an obstacle to him now, you knew as much.

Shaking his head, J moved on, disregarding both you and his previous plan. "We gotta do something."

"We need to break him the hell out of there is what we need to do."

You agreed. It made no logical sense. It was a fantasy, not feasible, but you still found yourself nodding, found your inner monologue thanking Craig for being the only one willing to go above and beyond for Andrew. He'd do it for them. Would do it for each and every single member of this family.

"How are we gonna do that?"

"I don't know. But we'll figure it out. We always do."

"Using what? A tank? Steal a helicopter?" J asked, not buying into it just yet.

"It's not impossible. It's like every other job you guys have done. We just have to find a weakness, and plan it out." you insisted.

"What, you participating? It's a little more complicated than that." J argued back.

"Means that we're done with Oceanside. Be on the run forever."

"What about everything you've built?" J asked. "Everything Smurf built? We can still do what we do, just without Pope. Find a new guy. Train him up."

"How can you say that?" you huffed.

"It's a family business, J. That's where the trust comes from — family. And there's no family without Pope."

There was a beat of silence. Clear hesitation from J. But none from Craig, none from Deran. And none ever imaginable for you.

"He'd do it for us. You know he would." Craig continued, looking to you and Deran for some verbal support.

"Let's do it."

"Okay." J nodded.

He was unconvinced, you could tell as much. But as long as it meant Andrew would be safe, you didn't care whether J felt forced into the job or not. His comfort was the least of your worries.

Leaving Oceanside hadn't come to mind to you. Not since you met Andrew. It was supposed to be more permanent, a new start ever since you'd gotten kicked out of your ex's place.

But Oceanside wasn't home anymore. Home was Andrew. It was Deran, it was Craig. Maybe sometimes J, but that much was incredibly fickle at the moment. If you got to pick up your cat, some of your shit, take Andrew and his brothers along, you didn't care if you ended up holed up in some house down in Puerto Rico. You'd do it. You just needed Andrew back.

➽──────────────────❥

Craig got you all passports. Real ones, fakes, everything necessary.

Renn and baby Nick had already left, had taken a flight to San Antonio that'd connect them over to Singapore. Craig had been sending them some cash every day under a fake name, making sure they'd at least have some savings when they arrived. Deran would join them. He hadn't said so, but knowing that Adrian was there, that one of his brothers and his new nephew would be there, it wasn't difficult to do the math.

You'd follow Deran and Craig. Andrew would need as much support as possible after all this. You'd stay with them, figuring it'd be for the best if you all stuck together now that you'd be leaving the country, all starting brand new elsewhere.

In the meantime, Deran got back into contact with his dad, found himself a contact in the prison that'd get them intel so they could get Andrew transferred elsewhere. It was during this transfer that the plan would take place, the interception of the transport vehicle and the subsequent abduction of Andrew so they could get him free.

It was a suicide mission, but you'd all shaken on it, agreed that Andrew was worth the risk.

Deran sold his bar, J sold everything else. The money hadn't come through yet, but it would before things set into motion. Somewhere around 5.4 million, which would get split between all four Cody's. You and Deran packed some bags, left them at some motel you'd decided to rent leading up to your departure. You took your cat there, one duffel bag for you and Andrew. It was all you needed. You could get everything else down in Thailand.

The guys were all solemn about it all. Disappointed they'd have to leave the only place they'd ever known. But you knew it was for the best. Leaving their life of crime, of constant danger of getting caught. This would let them start brand new; would let you start brand new with Andrew.

J set up the whole thing. He'd receive the money to his bank account in a week or so, just a few days before the day in which the guys would go and break Andrew out. He'd have to wait until the day Andrew was finally out to transfer everyone their share or else the sudden movement would cause suspicion, would ruin the plan and get you all locked up.

Which was why J would stay behind, closing any remaining corners and in contact with Deran and Craig as they intersected Andrew's transport and got him freed. You'd wait at the motel, ready with all yours, Deran's and Andrew's stuff. J had plans to go away with his girlfriend, as far as you were aware, so you'd be heading in different directions.

As much as it pained you to admit it, specially after the countless disagreements you'd had with J, you were grateful for everything he'd done up to this point. He'd mobilized, getting everything in order, selling all property necessary, willing to drop everything and go. It'd surprised you, having always been unsure of the Cody's real feelings towards Andrew.

You'd been a silent participant, feeling useless in it all as you watched from the sidelines. You knew there was nothing you could do, but you still beat yourself up over it. It was all your fault that Andrew had let himself be arrested. Deran denied it, so did Craig, as they both insisted you leave in advance, join Renn and stay safe for Andrew. You considered it, knowing that's what Andrew would want, but you couldn't leave preemptively.

You needed to be certain that Andrew was free and safe and by your side.

This was it for you. In a few days you'd be in that motel room waiting for a call from Deran, ready to run away, willing to break away from everything you'd known, doing so without any doubts.

➽──────────────────❥

Andrew had gotten himself sent into isolation a few weeks back.

Ten days or so, maybe more. It was hard to keep track. The antipsychotics they'd forced on him didn't help matters. Neither did the hallucinations.

But even then, he knew what he had to do.

He'd been made aware of the plan a few days into isolation. Had been given his one daily 10 minute call and had understood the cryptic message conveyed to him by Deran. He just needed to work some shit out on his side of the line.

He'd considered telling him to fuck off again, to insist once again that they let him die in here. But then Deran mentioned your name, how heartbroken you were he'd been shutting you out. He told Andrew about your anger, your random spurts of sobs in the middle of the night as Deran shared a bed with you, afraid to leave you alone.

This was the only reason why Andrew was willing to participate, to give freedom one last chance. As long as you weren't an active participant in it all, he'd be willing to try this last time.

He decided to make a deal with the DA. Feed them real information; damning information. All in exchange for a transfer to another facility. This was the one and only window for the plan to work. It wouldn't matter after it was all said and done. They'd all be gone by the time any action could be taken against the other Cody's.

But even then, Andrew confessed alone. Did not implicate any of his brothers. He took blame for the body Deran had him bury about a year back. Everything was fair game. He'd get killed in here, was in constant danger due to the Trujillo's guys going after him after what he'd done to Pete. It was run away or be killed now.

The DA didn't believe him as he confessed, but Andrew was far ahead of him. He remembered every detail of every crime, down to the clothes his victims had been wearing. Even if it was temporary, he'd take the fall.

When he got brought out to the desert to identify the body of what was actually Deran's victim, he gave confirmation of the exact place they'd find him, what clothes he'd be wearing. It was easy. It was his life, had always been. He was just able to be upfront about it now.

When J came to visit, it had already been settled. This was just the final step before things stepped into motion.

Andrew sat in that room full of inmates, back erect and posture stiff. Even after years spent in here, he couldn't help but always keep his guard up. His faith in his upcoming freedom was also not to be trusted. He held his reservations, but risking it all was all the same by that point. It was either life in prison, death by shiv, or a failed escape and reinforcement to his pre-existing sentence.

"Hey." J approached Andrew's table, sitting opposite of him. "I brought some photos for you."

A guard stopped him. "Hold it right there."

"The, uh, guard at the gate said they were okay." J handed him the pictures, showing there was nothing hidden in between, no harm in them.

"Okay."

"Thanks."

He sat then, expression mostly calm as he faced Andrew for the first time in weeks. The only person who'd been in to visit him had been Deran. That's how he'd wished for it to be. He couldn't handle any other family members, much less you.

"How you doing, man?"

"I'm okay. DA agreed to a deal."

J took a deep breath. "Okay. So, you're being transferred?"

"Yeah."

"Good."

"When?"

"Soon." Andrew confirmed. "How's the rest of the family?"

"Hanging in there. Craig and Deran found a new spot. It's nice. It's gonna have everything they need."

"Right." he nodded. "How's ... how's she?"

He wasn't sure J was the best person to ask about your current state, but he couldn't really help himself in doing so. He hadn't seen Deran since he got put in solitary, hadn't heard any updates about you. He wanted to at least know you were fine, that he'd leave this place and your arms would still be open and waiting to receive him.

J shrugged. "She's fine. Anxious, I guess. I heard she's leaving and meeting up with Renn. Gonna wait for Deran there or something."

Andrew wasn't sure what your plans were. Deran hadn't made it clear over the phone. Those calls were monitored, they both knew as much. Getting out of here meant walking in blind to unknown circumstances.

Andrew simply nodded pensively, aware J would be the last person to know what your plans were. Instead, he began to fumble with the pictures J had set on the table, finding a few of his brothers, a couple of him and Julia back when they were kids.

"I've never seen these before."

"There's a good one in there of you and my mom." J gestured towards a polaroid from back in high school. "That's the one. Look in the back."

Flipping it over, Andrew found a tiny chip plunged in there, as small as a SIM card, basically impossible to perceive.

J's eyes looked around subtly as Andrew looked at the chip, inserting it into a small fold in his shirt, hiding it from external view once again.

"It's all you now." J muttered. "You're gonna keep us posted, okay?"

"Yeah."

"Stay safe, man." J turned to a guard, flagging him. "We're done here."

He took the pictures with him as he began to walk away, only to get interrupted by Andrew as he looked both to him and the guard who was about to escort him back inside.

"Can I keep one of those pictures?" he gestured to the one of him and Julia.

The guard looked it over before J handed it to Andrew, but ultimately approved of it, allowing Andrew to keep it before walking away.

-

A few hours later, Andrew was alone in his cell. The guy the Cody's had paid to watch over him was elsewhere at that moment, but Andrew knew he didn't have long.

He needed a way to hide the chip, make sure it wasn't perceived by the guards who'd be strip-searching him in the next few hours. And there was only one way that came to mind.

The scar from the stabbing.

It'd been closed up by some doctor, barely stitched up. That was the only up side to the shitty healthcare inmates were subjected to. It'd been patched up mediocrely, which meant that opening it back up wouldn't be that difficult.

Using a makeshift shiv, he opened it back up — the easy part. Inserting it inside that small, bloody gap had been the painful bit, but what topped it all off was closing it back up. He had to improvise, not like he could use any stitches, not like he had any actual supplies.

Breaking the fire alarm found in the room, he fumbled with the cables inside it. Fucked around, but not really. He knew what he was doing, knew he just needed some heat in order to fuse the wound shut. It was a tiny incision, it was just painful beyond belief to shock himself, burn his skin in order to close it back up. This was only a temporary fix. He'd need a hospital as soon as you drove across the border.

When he got into the transport bus the following morning, he knew those were the last steps before everything became a chase.

There was only one thing on his mind, and it was crossing the finish line with you.

➽──────────────────❥

While Andrew dealt with this from the inside, the other guys settled every remaining loose end. J's girlfriend came to visit a few days later. Sat all of you down, told you the logistics behind the deposits of the money made from all the property sales.

The money would all be put into J's account, to be sent out to the rest of you right after Andrew got picked up by his brothers. It'd then be transferred to each one of you, with you as a placeholder for Andrew up until he was released from jail. It was all legally binding, notarized by J's girlfriend and agreed upon by all of you.

Having it all go through someone intimately attached to J gave you distrust, but you pushed it aside. This was all happening thanks to him. You knew you needed to move past any previous disagreements and go along with anything presented in front of you. If it meant freeing Andrew, then it was worth it. The guys fell under the same sentiment.

Deran's dad got confirmation about his contact. He'd tell them the exact location of the bus transporting Andrew, would tell them the time, where he'd end up if the trip ended up coming to a close — but it wouldn't. Craig and Deran would get in the way, get rid of anyone necessary to get their brother back.

The guys zeroed in on the place where they'd pick up Andrew. The middle of the desert, the point where there'd be the least contact, the least possibility of any other car passing by, even by accident. The police would likely be called immediately for backup, but they had that covered. Some dirt bikes and dune buggies would be enough for them to take Andrew and haul ass.

A GSM chip, a micro tracker, had been slipped in to Andrew through some pictures J dropped off while visiting Andrew one last time. This would allow Craig and Deran to track him should the information Deran's dad's contact be off. This way they'd also keep track of each other if things went south. You'd be back home, tracking Deran through his phone, but that was just agreed upon as a very last ditch effort in case everything went to shit and you had to drive in with one of the decoy cars Craig had gotten to cross the border. Your participation was kept between you and Deran. He knew the guys would never agree, but he knew no risks could be taken. Any extra efforts were necessary if it meant getting off unscathed.

The guys left early that morning, already geo-tracking the exact spot where they'd do Andrew's pickup. J was in his car nearby, acting as the escape vehicle and ready to take them when they headed his way with Andrew in tow. Meanwhile, you waited at the motel with a packed car. It was big enough to carry all of you, should J choose to join you and the guys in crossing the border and fleeing to Thailand a few days later, but no formal discussion about it had been had.

You didn't know the step-by-step of the guys' plan, but you were still counting down the minutes to the approximate time in which Deran would call you. You'd been tracking him, aware of the spot where they'd be grabbing Andrew, watching the screen obsessively as you sat in the motel room, ready to pick them up as soon as J dropped them off at the Cody house.

J didn't know you were still in town. The talks of you leaving ahead of time and staying with Renn had been so dense, so fixed-on, that when you decided to stay, there wasn't enough time to really update everyone on your decision. Deran knew, and you were sure he probably told Craig on the drive there, but you'd been such a last minute thing that the guys probably weren't aware yet.

You were ready for whenever you got that call. It wasn't a sure thing. They were likely to show up with one of the other used cars they'd hauled, but you were still waiting for a call, anything.

And then time kept passing. It kept going and going, and an hour went by. Far too long for them to not move. The dot on your phone remained stagnant, past the point of encounter Deran had drawn out for you. Maybe it was a glitch, but you couldn't leave shit to chance at that point.

You sat there waiting, pacing around the room, hoping to distract yourself as you waited for a call. The silent noise filling the hotel room was making you lose your mind minute by minute. Your cat was antsy on the bed, feeding off your energy.

That's when you got an amber alert.

On lookout for three men; one of them a fugitive. Descriptions were caucasian, two brunettes, one blonde. Had been called in by an anonymous tip, confirmed by a reporting officer who'd lost contact with a transport bus going north of Oceanside. The middle of the desert, having killed five cops and two inmates being transported.

It was them.

And they'd been called in anonymously.

It was J.

That was why the dot remained stagnant, why the meeting point was still far off. He'd left them there, turned back, sabotaged the whole plan by turning them in, by snitching.

You had no time to fume at the betrayal. Not when your fiancé and your best friends were on the run, stranded in the middle of the desert and about to meet their maker. Or worse, about to get locked in for life at Folsom.

Checking your phone, your suspicions were correct. All the money was gone from the main account. The one only J had access to.

He'd taken everything. Had betrayed you, sent your loved ones to die, and taken everything away.

You paced around the small motel room desperately, pulling at your hair, picking at your skin. No matter how much you racked your brain, there was no fix for this. There was no Andrew anymore, a fact that would never dawn on you, but didn't take long to drive you into madness.

It didn't take long for you to let yourself go, to drop to your knees and cry, sob, scream. Nothing could be done anymore. The chances of Andrew making it out, surrounded by cops, was less than minimal. And now his brothers had been dragged along, to be locked up along with him.

They'd killed five cops to get him out, had taken out some of the other inmates in the process. They'd all get life. You'd never see them again.

When a hammering at the door of your room interrupted your desperate sobs, you were barely lucid enough to register them. But still, you got up, numb and completely gone, and opened the door.

A frantic Deran and a furious Craig were on the other side of the door. Both had bloodshot eyes and reddened noses.

There was a frantic look in both their eyes. A drunk, crazy look that told you they were just as lost as you were.

And Andrew was nowhere to be seen.

You hugged them, gripping them tightly with relief, but there was that burning feeling inside you still, that endless worry that had crawled itself in there from the moment Andrew had been taken away from you.

When you let go, you asked, meek and quiet, already knowing the answer.

"Where's Andrew?"

"We left him ... We left him back there." Deran breathed out, eyes burning red.

You shook your head in disbelief, quick to begin hyperventilating at his response. Words tried to leave your lips, but they wouldn't. All you saw was red through the tears flooding your eyes.

"He made us. He- There was only one KTM. We had no choice." he rasped. Craig paced back and forth behind him, pulling at his hair in desperation.

"You just- you left him there? Surrounded?! Deran, I- What the fuck is wrong with you? We have to go back! We have to go get him! How could you- how could you just leave him back there!?"

Your words became babbles towards the end, convoluted, whined, screamed, a mixture of panic and fury. Your hands wrapped around yourself, nails digging into the skin of your arms, dragging irritated lines down their length. The pain felt like nothing. Nothing compared to everything else.

Craig shook his head, decisive. "No. He wasn't surrounded. They were closing in, but- he could've escaped. What if he made it out? He had three guns, ample space to run- What if- what if he made it?"

"He started fire on them, man! He made an opening for us, how the fuck do you think he could've made it out!?" Deran yelled back, channeling his panic at his brother.

"It's Pope! He's always found a way. We could- we could find out somehow. He said he'd come meet us, maybe he-"

Deran's head snapped up. "The phone! I left my phone with him." he turned to you. "Track him!"

He rushed to grab at you, palming you to find your phone in your pocket, finding it on your back left pocket and typing in your password. There, he opened up the Find My app, rushing, hands shaking, still a little dirty and bloody.

He let out a breath. "He's moving."

Rushing to his side, you looked over his shoulder, desperate eyes looking for the arrow that would lead to Andrew on the small map displayed on the screen. It was true. It was moving.

"Well, where is he? Is he alive?!" Craig yelled across from you, finally halting his pacing.

For a moment, Deran stopped breathing, swallowing, eyes widening as he lowered the phone.

"He's in Oceanside. He's heading to the house."

Craig gaped at him. "That's- that's a suicide mission. J's probably got all the cops in town there. They must've shown up to interrogate him. They know it was us. Or worse, what if J tries to finish the job when he shows up? What if-"

"Get in the car. Both of you." you interjected. "Suicide mission or not, we're all going down with him."

"What's the point? We have no money, nowhere to go." Craig blabbered on, losing his mind.

"I'll kill him. I'll kill that kid, I'll-"

"Pope's probably on his way to do that right now. Burn the place down or some shit-"

"Shut up! Both of you!" you yelled, grabbing onto Deran's arm and pulling. "We're going. Get out of this fucking room and into the car. Now!"

Deran snapped out of it, while Craig continued to panic in his anger. But still, he followed behind, mumbling something about running a job, that Andrew was still a little ways off the house and that they could rob some store for some extra cash before dropping in there. He wanted to save his brother, but the sudden disappearance of all their cash clouded his mind. There was nowhere to go if they had no money. They'd die in Thailand if broke, unable to find any sustenance in a foreign country.

Fortunately for him, you weren't as easily swayed.

Once in the car, you went straight in the direction of the Cody house, a route too familiar by now. Deran sat next to you while Craig continued to mumble threats to J under his breath, your cat laid on his lap.

"We have money." you spoke up as you drove, eyes focused on the road. "Lena's trust fund. Andrew set it up years ago — It's null now, can't give it to Lena anymore since her foster parents filed a restraining order when they found out about Cath. It's ours." you explained.

"Wait- what? You've- you've had this this whole time and never said anything? How much is in there?"

"South of a million. Nine-hundred grand last I checked. Enough for a big house in Thailand. You'll never have to work again." you barked. "Now shut up. This doesn't matter right now."

"Shit." Deran spoke up from beside you. "Pope's home." he gripped the phone tightly, looking to you with panic in his eyes.

"He's with J."

➽──────────────────❥

He was hurt. Limping his way back home, leaving a trail of blood behind.

Two shots landed on the bulletproof vest he'd put on. One near his sternum, the other graced his rib. Not lethal, but needed some pressure or else they'd bleed out, drain the life out of him.

Still, he made his way back home. He didn't know where you were, didn't want to call you as he breathed his last breath.

He opted to go back home and set things straight.

When he'd found out J disappeared on them, he knew it was no accident. The guys held up hope at first, thinking some miscommunication must've gone down, that maybe J got caught, but Andrew knew better. He'd never truly trusted the kid, but this confirmed it.

He'd left them to die.

Convincing his younger brothers to leave without him had been an uphill battle, but he would've died for them if it meant they got to escape. He could only hope that by the time he made it to the Cody house, avenged them, that they'd already be wherever you were, met up with you and given you the news of his passing.

He couldn't let himself think about you for too long. It'd kill him before he was already dead. He had a mission, and he needed to finish it. Not for himself, but for his brothers. For you.

Shattering of glass could be heard as he climbed the fence, making his way to the patio and limping towards the kitchen. The noises came from the bedroom, where he found an altered J beating at the mirror with a bat.

From behind, Andrew caught him, taking the bat from him and taking him in a chokehold. Even injured, he had a few tons of muscle on J. Bringing him down wasn't hard, specially not when he was pumping with adrenaline. Any punches returned to him felt like air when he was already struggling through the gunshot wounds.

They battled with each other all through the house until landing back in the patio. There, it was easy to get him fully under his control, to concuss him, to tie him to a chair as he figured out his next move.

His girlfriend, the lawyer whose name Andrew never learned, was there. Passed out on a beach chair, dead. He'd drugged her. Didn't stop his manipulation at stealing everything from under his uncles, at sending them on a death mission, but he had to bring a life down along with it all. Andrew shook his head, frustrated, unable to understand how he didn't see any of this coming, grappling with the fact that he'd been to stupid, that he'd trusted J and put his whole family in danger.

J woke up a mere ten minutes later, confused, groaning when he realized the situation he was in.

"Yeah." Andrew nodded. "That's good, You're awake."

"Pope ..."

"No. I can't listen to any more lies, J."

"No, no, no." J fought against the ropes keeping him tied up.

"We trusted you!" Andrew screamed. "We made you part of the family. We brought you in and we trusted you! And you set us up to die! My brothers! My girlfriend! To die!" he began to lose control, every word screamed with extra venom. "You think you're so smart. Why did you come back here, J? To set your alibi when the cops show up?"

J shook his head, desperate, trying to appeal to Andrew, but he saw right through it.

"No, no, Pope, I had heat. I had heat. I was calling to tell you."

Andrew nodded towards the limp girl on the chair. "You kill this girl?"

"I had to, man. She ... she was gonna call the cops." he heaved. "And I was gonna come and find you ..."

"No more lies!" Andrew fumed.

He made his way towards the chair, looking down at J.

"It didn't have to be this way. But you are who you are." Andrew shook his head. "And you did what you did! So you know what happens next."

Grabbing onto the arms of the chair, Andrew began to tilt it, lowering J onto the water.

But he looked head on at him, chin lifted defiantly as he spoke his next words.

"You deserved it." J barked. "All of you. For what you did to my mom. You deserved it. You deserved it!"

Andrew heaved, teeth grinding, knuckles going white due to his tight grip on the chair. And then he let go, letting J land in the water, tied up, unable to swim back to the surface.

He watched him struggle in there for a while. He thought of Julia, of the last time he'd seen her, of the time she came back, pregnant, begging him to go away with her. He thought of his weakness, of the way in which he remained in the car, listened to Smurf, didn't even look back.

The pain all came back. It made him sick, even as he watched J waddle in the water, fighting against the restraints but failing.

Jumping into the pool, Andrew helped him back to the surface, untying him, letting him swim back up and catch his breath. There, he coughed, gasped, soaked and with his chest heaving.

"She wanted me to be stronger than I was." Andrew lamented to himself, maybe to J too. "She wanted me to pretend I was normal, and I wasn't normal. Your mother was the strong one. I was the weak one!" he cried to himself.

"She loved you." J barked, breath still recovering. "She always loved you. She never stopped! She loved all of you. And you didn't do shit for her. Nothing!" he coughed.

Andrew sat there, taking it all, deserving every word.

"It's all my fault."

He thought of you, of his brothers, of Julia. He'd failed you all. Sooner or later, he'd disappoint you, lead you all to ruin.

"You could've helped her. You could've helped me, but you didn't." J continued with venom in his voice. "None of this would've happened. Not your mother, not Cath, not Baz, none of it."

Andrew's voice broke, eyes completely drowned in tears. "I should've been there for ... for your mother." he sobbed.

Andrew looked down at his hands as he sat on the ground, completely defeated.

"Just go. Just ... go." he looked to the side, giving up.

J coughed and groaned, but made his way up, running out without another word. He left Andrew there as he wallowed on his own, sobbing, crying, thinking of every person he'd hurt. He thought of you, the last one on that list, the one he'd ultimately destroy after he was done here.

But even then, he got up. His wounds were still salvageable, but he wouldn't give himself the chance. He was going to end the suffering once and for all.

➽──────────────────❥

"Oh- oh my god."

You could see the smoke as you approached the house. It almost made you stop the car on its tracks, but you drove the small rest of the way.

You saw Craig look at Deran with alarm through the rearview mirror, a look which you matched.

"Is that coming from the house?"

There was no time to answer as you sped up, finding the driveway and confirming your suspicions.

It was on fire, slowly spreading, beginning to cover the entrance.

"Andrew's in there." you choked out.

But those were your last words before you snapped off your seatbelt, beginning to get out of the car before a strong arm held your body back.

"What the hell are you doing?" Deran hissed.

"I'm going to look for him! What the fuck do you think I'm doing?"

"You're- you're crazy. It's burning! We need to go!" Craig interrupted.

"Either one of you goes in, or I will." you threatened.

Deran looked to you with panicked eyes, but he must've seen the seriousness in yours, the frantic desperation, because moments after, his seatbelt was coming off.

"I'll go." he turned to Craig. "You're coming with me. If he's in there, we'll need to carry him."

"Are you insane? We won't even be able to make it! It's-"

"Get your ass out of the car!" Deran screamed back at him. "And you — you keep this shit running. We're going straight to the border. He'll need medical attention. He was already hurt when we left him back there."

You tried to nod, tried to verbalize a thank you, but all that came out was a cry. Your head was pounding, your eyes burning and your throat shot. But he got the message, leaning in for a quick kiss to your cheek and a quiet 'wish us luck' before he got out of the car.

Reaching back, you grabbed your cat, setting her on your lap, hands itchy as they played anxiously with her fur. You watched the two boys disappear into the smoke, praying to every god you didn't believe in that they'd make it back. That they'd bring your guy out with them.

Three minutes passed. They felt like a torturous eternity, dragging every second as your eyes remained fixed on the door.

But then some shadows moved, the smoke practically stepping aside to make way for a body, and then another, and then a third one, limping in between the two larger ones it was currently supporting itself on.

It was Andrew, coughing, hacking as he limped in between his brothers who were also coughing the smoke out of their lungs.

They speed-walked, struggling with Andrew's dead weight. Craig ended up carrying him the rest of the way while Deran opened the back door for him, setting him down on the backseat.

You were speechless as you watched their every move, crying out a sob when your eyes found Andrew's. He was completely out of it, almost passed out. But you couldn't take your eyes away, practically already sobbing at his return. It'd been months.

Your ears were ringing, loud enough that you missed Deran's words, causing him to bark them out at you as he repeated himself.

"Are you listening to me? Get your ass in the back seat. I'm driving." he looked to you with ice in his glare — not angry at you, but at the situation. You didn't take it personally.

"Here." Craig had been rummaging through the trunk of the truck, grabbing the small first-aid kit you'd packed with the rest of your guys' stuff. "This won't do, but you need to patch up some of his injuries while we drive south."

They were far calmer than you, a long way from their panicked demeanors just an hour earlier. But this was good. You were out of your mind, but they'd keep you grounded.

You nodded numbly, rushing to the backseat as the guys sat up front, Craig now taking your cat while Deran backed out of the driveway. Craig threw a license plate out of the window as you drove off, likely having changed it as you froze in your reencounter with Andrew.

"Baby ..." you cried softly, hand reaching Andrew's cheek.

He was somehow still conscious. Barely, but still responded lightly to your touch.

"You're here?" he grunted, voice almost too low to hear.

"Always." you nodded. "Now let me take care of you, okay?"

You lifted up his shirt, wincing when you found endless bruises, gunshots that didn't penetrate due to the bulletproof vests Deran had insisted on taking along. Still, he had an open wound to his lower abdomen, two huge gnashes that were bleeding. Nothing had fully penetrated, but he still had a chance of bleeding out if you didn't at least deter the process.

You did your best to not cry. The tears would get in the way. And they'd make a beaten down Andrew feel even worse. Even if he was barely awake, you wanted to make things as easy for him as possible.

You'd talk later. You'd catch up, make up for the fast month of heartbreak you willingly let yourself get caught on.

Doing the most you could while inside a small, moving car, you treated him, shushing him lightly when he'd groan too loud at the pain. You cleaned him up, even managed to close off the large cut on his lower abdomen when you got stuck during traffic near the border.

No one spoke. Everyone remained silently panicked, and Andrew passed out due to the pain a good while into your treatment of him.

Things were slightly better for now, but you still had a long way to go.

➽──────────────────❥

Days could've passed. Could've been minutes. Could've all been in his imagination. Andrew had no way of knowing.

The last thing he remembered was tying up J, yelling out his frustrations, getting every one of his sins thrown back at him by the kid and breaking down in front of him as he admitted fault to each and every single one.

After that, he lost his mind a little, or, well, completely. He decided to give up. There was nowhere else to run. He'd succumb to his wounds sooner or later, finally get taken out of his misery. The last thing he could do was end it where it all began and take this miserable house down with him.

You were the last thing he thought of as he spilled oil all over the house. Every step he took, every room that he soaked, every room he lit on fire, he thought of you. Knowing he'd be leaving you behind, breaking you beyond repair, it killed him. But he'd die anyways. There was no point in running away from it anymore.

Maybe something else came after that. He wasn't sure. Couldn't really remember.

Everything was groggy as he came back into consciousness. His body felt light, no longer a heavy weight dragging him down.

His surroundings were unfamiliar. It took a while to take them in, for the bright light that was blinding him to fade away and for him to realize where he was.

It was a familiar place. It took some time for him to notice as much.

Turquoise walls, cramped space. The smell was recognizable too, anesthetic, something like that. He'd been in this room countless times. Sometimes lucid, sometimes not. It was where he always ended up when things went in an unplanned direction, far too gone to fix back at home.

It was that familiar room. The one he'd dropped Deran and Craig at any time that crimson color would ooze out of the varying wounds they'd earn through failed jobs. The same place Baz would always run off from in search of Lucy.

He was at the border. Alone, laid on an old mattress, in a badly lit room as the humidity slowly but surely soaked his skin with beads of sweat.

It pained him to sit up, with his right hand immediately reaching the aching point found on the right side of his abdomen. The scar he'd been given in jail, the same one he'd re-opened to hide the tracker J had given him in order to break him out of prison.

J.

He thought of J then. The screaming match had been fuzzy. It was all he remembered, not thinking back to its cause until he'd fully sat up and took in his surroundings now with wide eyes. His other wounds had been a direct cause of his betrayal. Two large gashes, only salvaged by the bulletproof vest Deran had thrown his way when they'd first crashed into the transport bus. A few inches off and either of those shots could've been fatal, could've penetrated and ended everything quicker than they'd planned.

But he wanted everything to be over. He'd had a chance to live, had given it away for revenge, revenge he'd subsequently thrown away. The memory of his sister had stopped him, seeing her eyes in J's, the pain of knowing Andrew, his brothers, that none of them ever bothered to help Julia.

The raging fury inside him halted at the memory. Thinking back to the day in which Smurf drove them down to the slums, throwing away a pregnant and intoxicated Julia as she begged Andrew to go with her. He'd been a coward then, and had followed in that pattern up to this day. Never did he escape Smurf, try and find his sister, her son. And when time came to avenge his brothers who he'd sent away so he could drive off the cops, he'd given up then too.

The emotions were too many. The pain was too much. Andrew sat in that shitty room as he mulled over it all, still too fuzzy to properly register his current situation.

He hadn't stopped to think of how he'd gotten there, what he was even doing back here in the first place.

You hadn't reached his mind. Not until he saw your form enter the room, stopping on your tracks when you saw him conscious.

No words left you for a moment. Your eyes were bloodshot, just as the last time he'd seen you over a month ago. On that day where he'd been taken away from you. You looked tired too, skin shiny from the sweat, clothes wrinkled and damp, as if you'd been wearing them for a few days.

"Oh my god." you sighed with relief, hand reaching your chest, clutching at the fabric there. "You're awake."

Steps speeding up, you reached his side, eyes still worried but a weight seemingly off your shoulders. The combination of worry and relief found in your eyes was familiar to him. It was what he'd see any time he returned from a job, that same look you'd give him when you were trying to mask that panic he had a tendency to cause in you.

"Hey-"

He found it hard to speak, throat dry and sore. Without having to ask, you handed him a water bottle from nearby. He chugged it messily, mumbling a muted thank you afterward. Then your hand came up to wipe the few droplets that'd dripped from his lips, hand reaching to cup his cheek afterward.

"You worried me there." you chuckled humorlessly, voice low, almost muted.

"What happened?"

"Isn't that the question of the year." you smiled despite tears forming.

Overwhelmed, happy, sad, he wasn't sure how to interpret your emotions at that moment.

After that, you took a seat next to him as he adjusted himself on the cheap bed, sitting at its edge and touching the ground due to its lack of a base. You sat next to him, thighs touching, hand reaching his own as it laid limp on his lap.

"I'm really glad you're okay." you started. smiling lightly, squeezing his hand. "What's the last thing you remember?"

Andrew thought for a minute, filling the room with quiet. That was a difficult question. After those hallucinations in prison, his forced medication, he wasn't entirely sure what was real and what wasn't. Wasn't even sure if you were really here. Were you really holding his hand? Or were you a product of his mind just like Baz back in his cell?

Then you squeezed it again, as if to say 'I'm here, don't worry.' Not many words were always needed between you. You understood, and he was still wrapping his head around it.

"J." he breathed out. "He took our money ... ratted us out." then he stopped for a moment, realization hitting him. "The guys ... are they-"

"They're fine." you reassured. "We found you at the house. It was ..." you hesitated. "Everything was on fire. You were passed out by the pool." your eyes were worried, downcast and hesitant.

With your lowered brows, you looked to him, asking a silent question.

'Why did you do it? Why did you give up?'

You couldn't voice those questions. You didn't want to place any of the blame on him, didn't want to acknowledge the facts — that he wanted to die, that he was willing to go without a goodbye.

"I wanted to put an end to it." his life, the house, the lies, he wasn't sure which one. "He lied ... he almost killed all of us. But- but he was right. We forgot about Julia, about him. I did this. I could've helped her. It was all my fault. It was-"

Gradually, his voice broke more and more, becoming desperate and harried. It was hard to breathe, physical pain taking a backseat as the turmoil J had planted in him reached the surface again.

But you interrupted him before it could escalate the way it had back at the house.

"Hey." your voice was stern. "He was wrong. Okay? Julia, she- she loved you. She wouldn't have wanted any of this." you argued, angry. "You ... you did everything for your family. Everything. You saved their lives countless times — J's too. This was not your fault. Do you understand that?"

Rather than console him, take his face in your palms, nurture him in the way you always had, you let yourself be angry. Your tone of voice was one he'd never heard, one desperate and furious. But he took it all the same, letting you grip his hand harder than you probably intended and nodding solemnly as you let out your frustrations.

"I need you to tell me you understand. I can't- I can't do this again, Andrew. I can't have you almost die on me again." you shook your head at yourself, eyes squeezing shut as tears forced themselves out. "You left, and- and I know it was to protect me, but ... Fuck, Andrew, you got fucking stabbed in prison! You had the Trujillo's threatening to kill you. You refused to let me go see you and, and, and then you go on a suicide escape mission and-"

By then, you were panting, words jumbled and tears likely blinding your vision. Andrew took your every word, took your every tear as a well-deserved punishment. It killed him what he'd put you through, made the pain inflicted by his failed escape feel like mere scrapes in comparison to the pain in your voice.

"I'm sorry." he interrupted. His eyes were downcast, unable to turn to meet yours. It'd kill him to even try. "I wasn't trying to hurt you. All I wanted- I just wanted to keep you safe. All of you."

His voice was empty. You sounded done. Beyond so. It made his skin crawl, his breath catch. He should've stayed in prison. Should've put up with the protection the guys had been paying for. Everything if it meant he could see you. Even if it was during a monitored 15-minute visit as he sat in that uncomfortable chair, looking at your sad smile through the scratched glass separating you.

He'd do anything if it meant your voice wouldn't be as broken, if it meant he'd look down and find your ring still on your finger rather than the empty space currently looking back at him.

He'd spotted it as soon as you came in. Ignored it, hoping it was all a figment of his imagination. But then you began speaking. You sat with him, held his hand, but instead of offering him that usual shoulder to lean on, you cried, hoping to be the receiver of comfort this time around.

"Please ..." he finally turned to you, swallowing the bile making its way up his esophagus. "Please ... You're- I'd do anything for you. You're the only person who loves me- the only person I've ever really loved." he sobbed, hand gripping yours, thumb running over the empty space of your ring finger. "I didn't- I'll do anything."

You cried with him, grabbing his hand and bringing it up to your face, making him cradle your cheek, kissing it as you turned your face towards it. The two of you locked eyes then; a pair of sad eyes, swollen and drowned in dry tears.

Looking at one another, you both halted. Your eyes communicated quietly, exchanging your heartbreak with one another without exchanging a single word. You grabbed his hand and kissed his ring finger, quietly reassuring him.

"We're safe now." you mumbled after some silence. "You can- your wounds can heal. Craig's waiting for us in Thailand. We can go there and we can ... we can get married there." you smiled sadly. "Deran's got my ring. It got dirty when I tried to patch you up on the way here, didn't want it getting damaged, so I gave it to him for safekeeping." you answered the silent question, the one that'd been slowly ripping out every stitch you'd managed to fix on his heart.

He let out a heavy breath then, sighing and grabbing your hand in return, pulling it towards his face, kissing it, breathing it in, sobbing mutely against it.

"You don't have to do anything." you responded to his earlier plea. "Just stay with me, okay?"

That's when you finally brought him closer, when you finally cupped his cheeks and found his lips.

The kiss wasn't otherworldly or life-changing, but it lifted an enormous weight off Andrew's shoulders. It let him breathe again, let him take in your oxygen and the life you brought in him.

Over the next hour, you pressed him back into the bed, getting into the tiny space next to him and allowing him to hold you in his arms. When he winced at the pressure against his wounds, he shook his head, assuring you it'd be more painful if he couldn't hold you.

You explained everything to him. Explained how the guys showed up at your motel room, how you immediately ran to go look for him. The way in which you'd tried to run into the burning house, only to be stopped by Deran and Craig who found him wounded, carrying him back to the car. You cried for him, patching him up until the point in which he passed out due to exhaustion. You explained your rushed arrival to Mexico, his medical treatment, the 38 hours through which he'd slept while you laid on the floor beside his small bed, afraid you'd hurt him if you shared the bed.

You told him about the way you'd taken the money from Lena's old trust fund, unnecessarily apologetic as he waved away any of your worries it'd have disappointed him. It was smart. You were smart, had thought of everything, had saved him and his brothers.

No one had ever cared for him like this. No one had ever put their life on the line, left everything behind, accepted him regardless of all and every sin he'd committed leading to this moment. And as he sat there, in love with you, he lulled you to sleep, relieved at the opportunity to try and make up for every wound he'd inflicted in you. He'd grovel and plead and beg for your forgiveness. Forgiveness you'd already kissed into his lips, but forgiveness he'd still do everything to earn.

Two days later, Deran's contact from Mexico gave Andrew the greenlight to travel. His wounds were healed enough to sustain a flight. Craig had already handled the money back in Thailand, having left in advance in order to finally catch up with Renn and his son. J had been left behind, now somewhere none of you knew.

While Deran was furious at Andrew letting J go unscathed, you remained indifferent. As per usual, you only looked to Andrew, happy he was safe regardless of any other outcome. And he promised himself he'd ensure the same for you — your safety.

He'd take things from here.

You'd never have to worry about anything else again. He'd finally keep his promise. That he'd always come back to you, that he'd stay alive for you, that he'd marry you.

You'd saved his life. Not just by pulling him out of that burning house, but by looking back at him that first night at Deran's bar.

➽──────────────────❥

It was difficult to get used to. It shouldn't have been, but it was.

Even a year after brushing against death and making it out the other side, Andrew couldn't fully grasp what his current reality was. His whole life had been a series of looking over his shoulder, of ducking his head, of keeping his body rigid in preparation for the worst.

Now, anytime he looked over his shoulder, all he found was you, smiling, in complete bliss of being by his side. When he'd duck his head, your fingers would find his chin, lifting his head so his eyes would meet your warm ones. The rigidness of his body would relax itself when you'd put your hands on him, a touch to his shoulder, or arms wrapped around him.

In the year you'd been in Thailand, life had settled itself.

Craig had found you all a house by the beach pretty quickly, settling down with Renn, marrying her soon after and providing their son Nick with a united family.

Deran had reconciled with Adrian. It had taken a while for him to work up the courage, to let go of that undeserving self-hatred and listen to your insistence that he go back to his one real love. But in the end he'd thanked you.

You and Andrew had tied the knot soon after your arrival. It was small, quaint. Deran had given you away, Craig had been the first man and Renn the maid of honor. You didn't need a wedding, you'd told Andrew, but he insisted. He'd give you everything, would spend the rest of his life paying back the existence you had given him.

The four of you bought a large house near the beach. Lena's million and the leftover savings Craig and Renn had accumulated when she first left to Thailand had given you ample room for a lofty life. There'd be no more uncertain jobs, no more need to risk their lives just to make a living.

When Craig first suggested a single roof over all your heads, you hadn't argued. Instead, you smiled at Andrew, nodding, asking for nothing more than a room where you could end the day with him every night.

"You sure you wanna live together again?" Deran had asked his brothers, nudging Craig's shoulder.

"'ve done it all my life. Could do it for the rest of it." had been Andrew's response, light, truthful.

Days were mostly spent by the beach, often times doing housework or watching Nick for Craig and Renn while they went out surfing. You'd occasionally 'threaten' Andrew with wanting him to give you one of your own someday, but he'd just avert his eyes, stutter in his movements and file that thought away for later. He'd give it to you. The moment you asked, he'd build a family with you, fulfill that promise you'd made one another back when you told him about your cat.

Andrew grew antsy of not working quickly into that first year in Thailand. So did the guys, so did you. Unsurprisingly to Andrew, you took up moonlighting as a nurse again, while Craig and Deran fixed boards with Adrian. Andrew wished to remain close to you, so he occasionally fixed cars at a place nearby. Between your savings and your compiled work, you had a more than comfortable income to fall back on.

Everything had reached a state of normalcy, one completely foreign to the Cody's.

It'd taken a lot of unlearning, specially for Andrew, to discover how to exist without constantly looking over his shoulder, without that constant fear of the other shoe dropping. But you'd been there every step of the way, teaching him that recovering from his former lifestyle wasn't a linear process, that normalcy wasn't a strict set of rules to follow, but rather something he decided for himself.

The fear of retaliation from J remained among the three brothers for a while. Andrew would have nightmares where he'd find himself back in front of that pool, laying down and bleeding out as the house continued to burn down around him. He'd disappear at night sometimes, needing to clear his head, but always looking back fondly as you laid in bed, cat in your arms and ready to let him back in whenever he was ready for the comfort you offered.

Today had been the first time he'd had a nightmare in a good while.

He was back in jail, trapped between four walls as they closed in on him. It'd been years. He'd been long forgotten by the guys, who'd grown fed up of paying for protection, of driving out to see him. And you? You'd moved on, he'd heard as such from Deran the last time he came to see him. His letters went unanswered, his ring likely pawned or rotting in the corner of some drawer. There was no reason left to live, but nothing to do to remedy so.

He was in hell. Trapped, stuck in an endless loop of misery.

But then he woke up, cold sweats invading his skin, breath ragged and a mixture of relief and panic overtaking him in the confusion of what was reality and what wasn't.

"Baby?" he heard your mumble from beside him as he sat up, palms settled on the mattress to bring himself up.

"Go back to sleep, baby." he murmured, hand coming up to his face to smooth the furrow of his brows.

This was the usual routine. He'd have a nightmare, would wake up in a rush, proceed to go walk around the beach while you remained asleep in bed. It wasn't often when you'd get woken up in the process. He'd mastered his stealth through the years, coming and going out of the Cody house with Smurf always being none the wiser. But maybe he'd be getting his guard down a bit lately, because you'd wake up sometimes. And when you'd wake up due to him, he'd opt to just stay in bed, laying there in restless sleep but at least in your company.

Today you sat up along with him, huddling closer and bringing your knees up to your chest, pressing up against his side as your body leaned in his direction. Your cat had awoken by then, opting to jump off the bed and find elsewhere to rest, but your attention remained on Andrew.

"What's wrong?"

Your voice was worried. This tone found your voice less often these days. It made him glad, knowing that you were more at ease now. But the guilt still invaded him anytime he'd hear it. He was always its cause.

"Don't worry about it. You should get back to sleep." his palm found your knee, rubbing it softly.

"Nightmare again?"

He hesitated, but nodded.

"Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head, turning to look at you, eyes blank, tears still drying.

In return, you offered him a sad smile, scooting closer, head leaning on his shoulder. "You're not there anymore. You're okay."

He'd told you about his nightmares before. Sometimes he'd be back at the Cody house, sometimes he'd be in jail, sometimes he'd find himself in the room where he'd killed Cath. You'd heard about each and every one of them, more than once.

"Hey." you called his attention. "Come on. Lay down with me."

Readjusting yourself, you pulled him closer, helping position him so you could lay against him. You faced each other, legs tangled and sheets thrown off. He was still sweaty, but your hands still ran gently up and down his chest, soothing him with minimal effort.

"Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm scared." he frowned. "That this is all temporary. It's been taken away from me before. It could happen again."

But you shook your head, letting your hand find its familiar place cupping his cheek, pulling his face closer.

"It won't. We're safe." you reassured. "And we're all together. Everything goes to shit, we can rely on each other, hmm? Always have."

Andrew nodded, breathing deep. You were right. And whenever you had your own doubts, whenever your fears came to the surface, he'd tell you the same thing. He'd hold you just as you were him now, he'd reassure you, do anything in his power to cease your tears.

"I'm here with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Want me to show you?"

Gradually, you'd gotten closer to each other, coming to a point where you were breathing in one another's oxygen.

He nodded, knowing where this was going. Needing it to reach its crescendo.

The two of you had a large room upstairs. The lower story was mostly reserved for Craig, Renn and Nick, while Deran had another room upstairs, but mostly stayed over at Adrian's. With all the privacy in the world, the two of you would seclude in your room more often than not.

Andrew finally had the ability to have you without a single reservation, to feel you in every way imaginable.

He'd find comfort in your body, in wrapping himself around you and vice versa. It had taken a while, but he'd grown used to it, somehow had grown accustomed to rolling over and finding your welcoming form in his bed, always willing and open for him.

You kissed him then, trapping his lips in yours, leg perching over his waist and hands cupping his face, bringing him as close as you could. In turn, Andrew's hand trailed up your thigh, pushing it higher up his waist and reaching the curve of your ass, digging his fingers there, molding them into your skin.

He felt unseemly, always finding himself more and more, insatiable any time you'd give yourself to him. Licking into your mouth, he kept kissing you, kept swallowing every moan you'd release against him, returning some of his own.

Your form was almost fully nude, only donning a tank top and some panties, which allowed him free reign in feeling every available inch of skin.

"The cat's still in the room." you mumbled when he began rolling you over, knee settling between your legs.

"Don't care."

You giggled, but he muted the sound with his lips. The muscle of his leg dug against your cunt, dragging up and down and giving you the perfect pressure to have you pulling at his hair, unable to continue the kiss due to the sounds endlessly leaving your mouth. Legs shaky, you couldn't lay still as his hands gripped your hips, moving you in sync with his leg, dragging you against it so he'd press against that perfect spot that made you throw your head back, your eyes roll to the back of your skull.

Finding the skin of your neck, he licked a strip up your jaw, nibbling at that spot at its corner that had seen many marks left by him through the passing of the years. Again, he sucked a mark there, grunting when you arched into him, silent in your pleads for more.

"Andrew, I need-"

"Want you to come like this first." he mumbled against your ear. He could wait. He wanted to take care of you first. He always did. "Can you do that?"

You nodded, desperate, eyes closed and mouth opening any time he'd press a little harder, letting out a babble of his name, a noise of pleasure only he'd get to hear.

So he continued. With a harsh grip (one he'd feel apologetic for later), he continued to move you to his liking, using his knee to creating that perfect stimulation. You begged for more. Sometimes with your voice, sometimes through your touch, sometimes just by looking at him and tilting your chin towards him, begging for a kiss.

And he'd press his lips closer, almost meeting yours, but opting to let his eyes watch every twitch of your lips as the sounds endlessly left you. He did this until you came, muttering silent words of encouragement, calling you his good girl, telling you how good you felt against him, how perfect you were for him, now and always.

The heat between your legs left its mark on his thigh, a wet, warm spot on his nude skin that made him groan by the end of it. It made him seek out your lips, mouth open and needy to connect with yours as he hurriedly repositioned you, settling you perfectly under him so he could grind against you, far too gone to go without the feel of you any longer.

Needy hands reached for him, pulling him into another kiss as he removed any barriers between you, settling nude atop you and with your panties pushed to the side. Like this, he finally gripped himself, sighing when he felt the wetness found between your legs; that same wetness he'd provoked.

"Please." you whimpered into his lips, gripping his hair a little too tight, but making him groan in pleasure all the same.

"Yeah? You want it?" he murmured, to which you purred in return, licking his tongue and wrapping your legs tighter around him, pulling him closer.

He was on his knees above you, your legs securely wrapped around him as he settled in his rightful place inside you. Matching groans were shared. Your nails raked down his back, his own forming crescent moons on the meat of your thighs.

The fit was perfect. It always was. The slapping of skin was familiar, rapid and desperate. There was always some sense of desperation when Andrew fucked you, always a silent plea to let him have you like this, to never keep this away from his reach.

"That's it?" he hummed when you tightened around him, doing so again every time he hit that specific spot.

He was close, too sensitive from all the emotions of the early hours of the AM, feeling too much towards you, more than he knew what to do with.

"Feel so good, Andrew, fuck ..." you sighed. "Want m-more. Almost there, shit."

That was all he needed. That was the greenlight to fully lose himself in you. He hammered into you, rhythm almost fully gone, now just a mixture of grinding and hammering, all delivered with multiple groans of your name.

He filled you up again, glad to take you down with him. That twisted thought invaded his head again as he did so. The memory of you holding his new nephew, the looks you'd give him late after a long day of babysitting, the thought of you swollen and waiting for him at home day after day. It became sustenance for him. He needed it to happen.

It was only a matter of time until he finally fulfilled his wish. You'd gone off birth control after leaving the states, letting him know about it with a cheeky grin, kissing his confused face and leading him into the bedroom. And soon enough it'd come to fruition. He knew it.

For now, though, he laid beside you after cleaning you up. His arms naturally found their way around you, uncaring of any sweat or leftover bodily fluids from what you'd just shared together.

You turned to him, pressing your chest to his, kissing it.

"Feeling better?"

He nodded. "Always, with you."

You smiled then, nuzzling further into him, lulling him to sleep without even trying.

You were right. He was safe now. And so were you. He didn't have to worry about any of the past anymore.