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Where the Heart Went Back Home 2

Pair: Becky Lynch X Finn Balor

Plot: Becky and Roux join Finn at Waffle House after a hard day, where Roux’s silly chocolate‑nose boops and Finn’s gentle teasing finally make Becky smile again. A small group of kids asks Becky for photos, and Finn quietly watches her be warm and patient with them.Seeing how tired she is, Finn invites Becky and Roux to stay at his house for the night. Roux is ecstatic during the house tour but gets sleepy, so Becky tucks her into the guest room. Later, Finn brings Becky Barry’s Tea and Tayto crisps — things she loved in Ireland — and she opens up about what happened with Seth. Finn comforts her, then plays old videos from their Ireland days, and Becky eventually leans into him for quiet, familiar comfort.

okay so um… this part was really soft to write?? like it’s just becky finally breathing again and finn being that quiet steady comfort she hasn’t had in forever. and i had “I Won’t Give Up” by Jason Mraz playing the whole time because the vibe fits perfectly — that gentle, loyal, nostalgic energy that matches their ireland memories and the way finn shows up for her without pushing.

this chapter is basically becky remembering who she used to be… and who she still is. and finn being the one person who never stopped seeing her.

hope y’all love it ♡ 🥺❤️

Becky’s voice was still hanging in the air, soft and shaky:

“Tonight just got a whole lot more interesting.”

Finn’s smile widened just a little — warm, familiar, the kind that made Becky’s chest tighten in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

“Alright then,” he said, tapping the table lightly, “Becks, Roux… sit. Eat with me.”

Roux didn’t need to be told twice. She slid right back into the booth beside Finn, practically bouncing. Becky sat across from them, still trying to steady her breathing after everything that had happened.

The waitress dropped off their plates — waffles, hash browns, bacon, chocolate milk for Roux, coffee for Becky.

Roux immediately dipped her finger in her chocolate milk… then reached up and booped Finn’s nose with it.

Finn froze.

Roux giggled. “You got chocolate on your face!”

Finn wiped his nose dramatically. “Oh no! Who did that?!”

Roux squealed as Finn reached over and tickled her sides, making her laugh so loud Becky had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing too.

Becky watched them — watched Roux’s joy, watched Finn’s gentleness, watched the way he made her daughter feel safe without even trying.

And for the first time in days… Becky smiled.

A real smile.

Finn noticed.

He didn’t say anything.

But he noticed.

A group of little kids — maybe six or seven years old — approached the booth, wide‑eyed and whispering.

One girl stepped forward. “Um… excuse me… are you Becky Lynch?”

Becky blinked, then softened immediately. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Can we have a picture?” another asked, clutching a tiny notebook.

Becky slid out of the booth, crouching down to their level. “Of course you can.”

She took pictures, signed napkins and notebooks, asked each kid their name, told one girl she loved her sparkly shoes, told another she had the coolest dinosaur backpack she’d ever seen.

The kids giggled and hugged her before running back to their parents.

Finn watched the whole thing — the way Becky made time for them, the way she smiled even though her heart was breaking, the way she knelt down so the kids wouldn’t feel small.

Roux tugged Finn’s sleeve. “Mommy’s really nice.”

Finn nodded, eyes still on Becky. “She always has been.”

Becky returned to the booth, cheeks pink from smiling. “Sorry. They were sweet.”

Finn shook his head. “Don’t apologize. That’s who you are.”

Becky looked down, flustered.

Roux whispered loudly, “Finn was staring at you.”

Becky’s eyes widened. “Roux—”

Finn laughed softly. “She’s observant.”

Finn leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice gentle.

“Becks… listen.”

Becky looked up.

“You don’t have to go back to that house tonight.”

Becky swallowed. “Finn—”

He shook his head, steady and warm. “You and Roux can stay with me. Just for tonight. Just until things settle.”

Roux gasped. “We’re going to Finn’s house?!”

Finn smiled. “If your mommy says yes.”

Becky looked at Roux — hopeful, exhausted, still a little puffy‑eyed — then at Finn, who looked at her like she wasn’t a burden, wasn’t a problem, wasn’t too much.

Just Becky.

Just someone he cared about.

She exhaled slowly. “Yeah. Okay. We’ll stay.”

Roux squealed, bouncing in her seat.

Finn smiled — soft, relieved, warm.

“Alright then,” he said, standing and grabbing the check. “Let’s go home.”

And Becky felt it — that quiet, familiar pull in her chest.

The one she hadn’t let herself feel in years.

The one that felt like Ireland.

The one that felt like Finn.

Finn held the door open for Becky and Roux as they stepped out of Waffle House, the warm lights glowing behind them. Roux practically skipped across the parking lot, her little dinosaur backpack bouncing with every step.

Finn unlocked the car, and Roux gasped like she’d just discovered treasure.

“Mommy! Finn has a COOL car!”

Finn laughed. “It’s just a car, Little Champ.”

“No,” Roux insisted, climbing into the backseat, “it’s cool because you drive it.”

Becky shook her head, sliding into the passenger seat. “She’s obsessed with you.”

Finn glanced at her, eyes soft. “I don’t mind.”

He started the engine, and the soft hum filled the quiet night. Becky leaned her head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past, her chest still tight from everything that had happened.

Roux, meanwhile, was having the time of her life.

“Finn, do you have snacks at your house?”

Finn smiled through the rearview mirror. “Probably.”

“Do you have toys?”

“Not many.”

“Do you have a dog?”

“No dog.”

Roux gasped dramatically. “Finn, you need a dog.”

Becky snorted. “Don’t encourage her.”

Finn chuckled. “Maybe someday.”

Roux kicked her feet happily. “Can I see your room? And your couch? And your fridge? And your swords?”

Finn blinked. “My what?”

Becky sighed. “She thinks every wrestler has swords.”

Finn laughed. “Well… I do have one. But it’s decorative.”

Roux squealed. “YOU HAVE A SWORD?!”

Finn shook his head, amused. “You’re not touching it.”

Roux crossed her arms. “I’m gonna look at it.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

Finn grinned. “You’re just like your mom.”

Becky’s cheeks warmed. “Don’t start.”

As they turned onto Finn’s street, Roux finally settled, her voice softening.

“Finn?”

“Yeah, Little Champ?”

“Thank you for letting us stay.”

Finn’s hands tightened on the steering wheel — not in stress, but in something gentler.

“You’re always welcome with me,” he said quietly.

Becky’s breath caught.

Roux smiled, leaning back in her seat. “Mommy said tonight is interesting.”

Finn glanced at Becky again — that soft, warm look she remembered from Ireland.

“It is,” he murmured. “It really is.”

Becky didn’t look away this time.

Finn pulled into his driveway, the porch light glowing softly. Roux gasped again.

“Mommy! Finn’s house looks like a movie!”

Finn laughed. “It’s just a house.”

“No,” Roux insisted, “it’s cool because you live in it.”

Becky smiled — tired, but real.

Finn stepped out and opened the back door, lifting Roux out of her seat. She wrapped her arms around his neck automatically, her curls brushing his cheek.

Becky watched them — watched her daughter cling to Finn like he’d been part of her life forever, watched Finn hold her like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And something in Becky’s chest shifted.

Not painfully.

Just… honestly.

Finn set Roux down gently. “Come on. Let’s get inside.”

Roux grabbed his hand.

Becky followed behind them, heart pounding, unsure what tonight meant but knowing one thing for certain:

Her daughter felt safe with Finn.

And maybe… she did too.

Finn unlocked the front door and stepped inside first, flipping on the lights. His house was warm, cozy, lived‑in — exactly the kind of place Becky expected him to have. Roux gasped like she’d just walked into Disneyland.

“Mommy! Finn has candles! And plants! And a big couch! And—”

Finn laughed. “Come on, Little Champ. I’ll show you around.”

Roux grabbed his hand immediately, her tiny fingers wrapped around his. Becky followed behind them, watching the way Roux practically floated with excitement.

Finn pointed around the space. “This is the living room. Couch, TV, bookshelf… and no, you can’t touch the sword.”

Roux’s eyes widened. “You DO have a sword!”

Finn sighed. “Decorative. Very decorative.”

Roux giggled and moved on, already distracted by the soft wool blanket draped over the couch.

Finn led them into the kitchen next. Roux gasped again.

“Mommy look! He has a fridge with water in the door!”

Finn smiled. “You want some?”

Roux nodded, so Finn filled a tiny cup and handed it to her. She took a sip, then immediately leaned forward and booped Finn’s nose with her wet finger.

“Cold water nose!”

Finn blinked, then tickled her sides. “Oh no! Who did that?!”

Roux squealed, laughing so hard she nearly dropped her cup.

Becky leaned against the counter, watching them — watching Finn crouch down to Roux’s level, watching her daughter glow with happiness, watching the gentleness she hadn’t seen in years.

And she smiled.

A real, soft smile.

Finn noticed.

Finn continued the tour, Roux skipping beside him, Becky trailing behind.

“This is the hallway,” Finn said. “Bathroom’s there. My room’s at the end.”

Roux peeked inside each doorway, her energy slowly fading. Her steps got smaller. Her eyes got heavier. Her little hand tightened around Becky’s fingers.

Finn glanced back. “She’s getting sleepy.”

Becky nodded. “It’s been a long day.”

Finn pushed open a door. “And this is the guest room. You two can stay here tonight.”

Roux wandered inside, rubbing her eyes. “It’s pretty…”

Becky stepped in behind her, brushing her daughter’s curls back. “Come here, baby.”

Roux didn’t argue. She lifted her arms, and Becky scooped her up, her little head dropping instantly onto Becky’s shoulder.

Finn watched quietly — not intruding, not offering to take her, just giving Becky space to be her daughter’s safe place.

Becky laid Roux gently on the bed, pulling the soft blanket over her. Roux curled up immediately, clutching her dinosaur plush.

Becky whispered, “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Finn stood in the doorway, voice low. “She’s out.”

Becky nodded, brushing Roux’s cheek one last time before stepping back.

Finn flicked off the lamp, leaving the room in a warm glow.

Becky stepped out, closing the door softly behind her. Finn was waiting, hands in his pockets, eyes gentle.

“She’s comfortable,” he said quietly.

Becky exhaled. “Yeah. She is.”

Finn nodded toward the living room. “Come sit for a minute. You look like you need to breathe.”

Becky didn’t argue.

She followed him down the hall, feeling something settle in her chest — something she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Home.

Finn led Becky into the living room, the soft lamp light warming the space. Becky sat on the couch, pulling her knees up, still processing everything that had happened in the last twenty‑four hours.

Finn disappeared into the kitchen for a moment.

Becky stared at the wall, breathing slowly, trying to keep herself from unraveling.

Then Finn returned.

He set a small plate and a mug on the coffee table in front of her.

Becky blinked. “Finn… what’s this?”

Finn sat beside her, not too close, not too far. “Something you used to love back home.”

Becky looked down.

A steaming mug of Barry’s Tea.

And a little bag of Tayto crisps — cheese and onion, the exact kind she used to rave about in Ireland.

Her breath caught.

“Finn… you kept these?”

Finn shrugged lightly. “I order them sometimes. Makes me feel like home’s not so far away.”

Becky swallowed hard, her eyes stinging. “I haven’t had Barry’s Tea in… God, years.”

Finn nudged the mug toward her. “Drink. It’ll help.”

She wrapped her hands around the cup, inhaling the familiar scent — warm, earthy, comforting. It hit her like a memory she didn’t know she still had.

She whispered, “Thank you.”

Finn nodded. “Always.”

They sat quietly for a moment, the soft hum of the house filling the silence.

Then Finn spoke, voice low and gentle.

“Becks… what happened with you and Seth?”

Becky stared at the tea, her fingers tightening around the mug.

“It wasn’t one thing,” she said softly. “It was… everything. Slow. Quiet. Constant.”

Finn didn’t interrupt.

Becky took a shaky breath. “We stopped talking. We stopped laughing. We stopped being us. And last night… when I texted you… Seth saw something he didn’t want to admit.”

Finn’s jaw tightened, but he stayed still.

Becky’s voice cracked. “He saw that I cared. That I always cared. And he couldn’t handle it.”

Finn swallowed. “Becks…”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t cheating. I wasn’t doing anything wrong. But Seth saw the truth before I did.”

Finn’s eyes softened. “And what truth is that?”

Becky looked at him — really looked — her voice barely a whisper.

“That part of me never stopped loving Ireland. And part of me never stopped loving you.”

Finn’s breath caught, but he didn’t move. Didn’t push. Didn’t take advantage.

He just sat there, steady and warm.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that.”

Becky wiped her cheek. “I’m sorry too.”

Finn leaned back slightly, giving her space but not distance. “You didn’t deserve any of that pain.”

Becky looked down at the tea again, her voice soft. “I don’t know who I am right now.”

Finn nodded. “Then let me help you remember.”

Becky closed her eyes, letting the warmth of the tea and Finn’s presence settle into her chest like something she’d been missing for years.

The house was quiet now.

Roux was asleep in the guest room.

And Becky sat curled on Finn’s couch, holding the mug of Barry’s Tea he’d made her, letting the warmth settle into her chest.

Finn stood up suddenly.

“Wait here,” he said softly.

Becky blinked. “Finn—?”

But he was already walking down the hall.

She sat there, confused, sipping her tea, listening to the soft creak of a cabinet opening. A minute later, Finn returned with something tucked under his arm.

A small, old external hard drive.

Becky’s breath caught.

“Finn… is that—?”

He nodded, sitting beside her. “I kept everything.”

He plugged it into the TV, scrolled through folders labeled Bray Gym, Training 2011, Indie Shows, Ireland, and one simply labeled Becks.

Becky’s chest tightened.

Finn clicked a video.

It was grainy, shaky — clearly filmed on an old phone.

Becky, nineteen, hair wild, laughing as she tried to run the ropes.

Finn, younger too, holding the camera, teasing her.

“You’re leaning too far forward, Becks!”

“I’m TRYING!” she yelled, laughing.

She tripped.

Finn laughed so hard the camera shook.

Becky threw a glove at him.

On the couch, present-day Becky covered her face. “Oh my God, turn it off.”

Finn smiled. “Not a chance.”

Finn clicked another.

Becky and Finn sitting on the floor of the Bray gym, sweaty, exhausted, eating Tayto crisps straight from the bag.

Becky nudged him. “You’re not sharing.”

Finn nudged back. “You’re not asking.”

Becky laughed — that bright, unburdened laugh she hadn’t heard from herself in years.

Present-day Becky swallowed hard. “I forgot about that night.”

Finn’s voice softened. “I didn’t.”

Finn hesitated before clicking the next one.

Becky recognized it instantly.

The night after their first kiss at the train station.

Becky sitting on Finn’s couch in Bray, hoodie too big, cheeks pink, talking about her dreams — WWE, championships, wanting to make her family proud.

Finn filmed her quietly, smiling behind the camera.

“You’re gonna do all of that,” he said in the video.

Becky looked up shyly. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

On the couch now, Becky’s eyes filled. “Finn…”

Finn didn’t speak.

He didn’t push.

He didn’t move closer.

He just let her feel it.

Becky set her tea down, wiping her cheek. “I don’t even remember half of these.”

Finn’s voice was low. “I remember all of them.”

Becky exhaled shakily, leaning back against the couch. “I feel like I’ve been carrying so much for so long.”

Finn nodded. “Then put it down for a minute.”

She didn’t think.

She didn’t plan.

She didn’t question.

She just shifted closer — slow, gentle — until her shoulder brushed his arm.

Finn froze for half a second, then relaxed, letting her lean into him without making it weird, without making it romantic, without making it anything except what she needed.

Becky rested her head lightly against his shoulder.

Finn didn’t move.

He didn’t speak.

He just let her be there.

Let her breathe.

Let her remember who she used to be.

Let her feel safe.

To Be continued

TAGLIST

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#fic rec #finn balor #becky lynch

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