Stifling a yawn as he scrubbed a worn palm across his mouth, Cole nodded, choosing to ignore Riley’s comment about him looking like shit and answering his question instead, “Yeah,” he murmured, gently blowing over the surface of his coffee in hopes of cooling it, “T was on nights, figured I’d just crash here.” He would’ve just tossed and turned all night had he stayed home– at least here, he could fill those sleepless hours with something useful and get work done. Cutting a look over at Riley, he shook his head once, “I’m fine,” Cole supplied quickly, sipping at his coffee. Was he fine? Perhaps not, but the point was that he would be because he knew he had no other choice. It was just bridging that gap between where he was and where he wanted to be that was proving goddamn difficult. Hearing that Riley didn’t blame him for what happened on the day of the bike festival, Cole nodded softly, a smile he didn’t wholly feel curving at the corner of his mouth. It faded just as quickly as it appeared though, knowing Riley likely wasn’t finished. Accustomed to silence, he didn’t say anything, just shifted uncomfortably in his seat and did what he did best:
Cole swallowed hard, wincing slightly because he’d never quite figured out how to take hearing that he was supposedly a good man. He didn’t feel like one and never had. Even though he inwardly agreed with Riley that he would have stopped what happened or traded places with the men who’d been killed if he could have, Cole wasn’t sure that made him good– it just meant he understood how that day should have played out, and he’d do anything to right those wrongs. He didn’t outwardly protest though, he figured the sudden pinch in his features already said enough. It was hard hearing how much Dean and Serkan loved him and it showed in the warm sheen that collected at the corners of his eyes, but didn’t quite spill over. His emotions were ramping up though, threatening to overwhelm him the longer Riley spoke. Glimpsing his hand when he raised it, Cole couldn’t mask the frown that sank between his brows but he leaned forward anyway, clasping Riley’s hand. His mind bent back towards that night and he breathed out a shuddered breath, the memories not quite as blurred as he wished they were. There was a vividness to them that felt like punishment. “Not my finest moment,” he interjected with a humorless smile, finally breaking his silence. This conversation was like many they’d had in their youth– he was quiet, and Riley never pushed him to speak but listened whenever he was ready to. He wasn’t sure what he’d done to deserve that, even now, or the love and acceptance Riley was showing him. “Yeah, I hear ya,” he murmured, glancing over at Riley, offering up a small smile that actually managed to reach his eyes for a fleeting moment, “Love ya too, man.”
Snorting a soft laugh, he shook his head, “Goddamn Irish– usin’ sixteen words when four would do,” he teased, clearly hinting at how long winded Riley had just been, but that didn’t mean Cole wasn’t appreciative of what Riley was saying. It meant a lot coming from him, especially considering that if anyone had rhyme or reason to hate him at the end of the day, it was the Irishman. But he didn’t. It was everything he’d needed to hear to help him begin to cast away some of the demons that lived in his head. “Just never saw that comin’,” he continued, sobering then, “Think I’d wrapped my head ‘round just ‘bout every possible scenario except that one. Havin’ a hard time gettin’ right with all of it.” It’d been hard not to feel responsible, particularly when he’d been the target. But there was nothing he could do to change it now, and perhaps the best thing he could do to honor the men who’d lost their lives in his place would be to find a way to move forward. “I’m workin’ on it, a’right?” Cole supplied, nodding a bit more firmly than he had in the beginning, “Don’t think they’d want any of us sittin’ around and sulkin’ for too long.” Pushing the focus off himself, already uncomfortable with how long it’d been there, Cole sipped at his coffee and cleared his throat, “How ‘bout you? Ya doin’ a’right?”
