my favourite part of ao3 not having an algorithm is that i can click on any random fic, out of whatever curiosity (morbid or otherwise) i may have on a whim, knowing I won't spend the next three months having ''similar'' content constantly shoved in my face in a desperate attempt to keep me engaged while i stab the not interested button over and over with a growing rage bubbling beneath my skin
I took Bobby's death very personally. Never have I felt so sad about a character's death before. It was like I was experiencing the loss in my own life. I still can't believe it. Wow!
Here is the link for the first chapter, it was originally a one shot but one lovely commenter inspired me to write a part 2 a few months back.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
So, without further ado, here’s a lil sneak peek
“Like I said, you roll better.” Harvey unabashedly watches her lips as he responds, smiling impishly as he meets her eyes.
“You just wanted to watch me lick something,” she speaks smoothly as she places the rolled joint on the rolling tray and slides it back to Harvey.
“I want to watch you lick a lot of things,” he retorts without missing a beat. He then picks up the joint without a word and lights it, puffing a little before he inhales.
“Everybody does,” she whispers before spooning more ice cream in her mouth, looking at him almost daringly as she does, and again his gaze falls to her lips. “You’re hopeless,” she lets out after a snort.
“And you’re a tease,” he says, blowing smoke in her direction purposely before passing the joint over.
I think that Sierra McClain's exit from Lone Star was not handled well. It probably would have been better if something bad had happened to Grace. There is not a universe in the world where Grace would leave Judd and Charlie in the lurch because "she was called by God." It also doesn't sit well with me that Tommy is going through all that, and Grace is not there to help her through it.
summary: you struggle with the trauma of a near-death experience and find comfort in your wife's arms.
w/c: 1.4k
⚠️ tw: mention of guns, shooting, and near-death experience
The night felt suffocating. The weight of everything that had happened settled heavily in your chest, leaving you breathless and anxious, still reliving the moment. The shooting had been sudden, violent, and close — too close. You could still hear the echo of gunfire, the sound of metal on metal, and the moment when you thought it would be your last breath. Since then, everything felt off, like your skin was too tight, like every corner you turned had some sort of hidden danger.
You sat on the couch in the dark, the flicker of the television dancing across your face. But it wasn't enough to chase away the shadows that had begun to creep into your mind. Athena had been at work when it happened but she wasn't at the scene. You hadn't told her what happened yet, how your knees had buckled and your lungs seized up with the fear of death. You hadn't told her about the nightmares that now plagued you whenever you tried to sleep or the anxious trembling that seemed to never leave your hands.
You felt broken and you didn't want to burden her with it.
But Athena always knew.
From the moment she stepped into the house that evening, her sharp eyes caught the way you hunched your shoulders a little tighter than usual, the way you barely looked up from the television, as though the sounds and colors would provide enough distraction to keep the anxiety at bay. But there wasn't really any hiding from her.
She didn't say anything at first. She walked over and settled herself next to you, close enough that her arm brushed yours. The familiar scent of her — clean, a little smoky, and unmistakably Athena — gave you the smallest sliver of comfort. But you didn't move. Your heart beat too fast and you felt the exhaustion creeping up on you, threatening to spill over in a way that terrified you.
Athena let the silence linger. She was good at that, knowing when to press and when to give you space. But tonight, she could sense you needed her more than you were willing to admit. After a long, silent moment, she shifted closer and wrapped her arm around your shoulder, pulling you gently against her side, her arm rubbing up and down your arm comfortingly.
"I know something's been going on with you," Athena's voice was low and soothing yet firm. The kind of tone she used when she needed to let you know she wasn't going to let this slide anymore. "You've been distant, and I can see that something is obviously bothering you. Talk to me, darling."
The knot in your throat tightened. You didn't want to break, not now, not in front of her. But it had been building for days, maybe even weeks and her words were too much. A tremor shook through you and before you could stop it, the tears welled up, no matter how hard you tried not to cry. You hated this. Hated feeling weak, hated feeling vulnerable, hated being afraid.
"I... I almost died," you finally whispered, the words spilling out between shallow breaths. Your voice was quiet, barely audible, but Athena heard every word. "There was a shooting, and I- I couldn't breathe, I couldn't move. I was so scared."
Her grip on you tightened instantly, her hand moving to rub soothing circles on your back. "Shit," she muttered under her breath, her jaw tight. "Why didn't you tell me?"
You sniffled, wiping at your eyes in frustration. "I didn't want to worry you. You already have so much on your plate with work, and I just… I didn't want to be a burden."
Athena's eyes softened and she turned your face toward hers, gently cupping your cheek. Her thumb brushed away a tear, and she shook her head. "You're never a burden to me. Never." Her voice made something in you crack. "I'm your wife. We're supposed to carry this stuff together, not alone. You don't have to go through this by yourself."
You leaned into her touch, the weight of her words settling deep inside you. But the fear, the anxiety, still lingered just beneath the surface. "I just… I keep hearing the gunshots, over and over, and I feel like I can't breathe sometimes. Like something bad is always about to happen."
Athena's brow furrowed in concern, but she stayed calm. She always did, even when everything else was falling apart. "You're safe now. I promise you that. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you feel that way."
Her words were like a balm, soothing some of the storm inside you. She shifted again, this time pulling you fully into her arms, cradling you against her chest. You melted into her, pressing your face into the crook of her neck as she held you tightly, protectively. It was as though she was shielding you from the world itself.
"You don't have to be strong all the time," she whispered into your hair. "You don't have to hold it all in. I'm here. I've got you."
Your fingers curled into her shirt as you let out a shaky breath, the first real breath you'd taken all night. The tension in your body slowly began to unwind as you listened to the steady beat of her heart beneath your ear. Athena's hand continued to rub your back, her touch grounding you in a way that no amount of distraction or avoidance could.
"You know what I love most about you?" she murmured, her voice soft but steady. "It's that you're brave. Even when you don't feel like it, even when you're scared out of your mind, you face it. You've always been brave, and that's not going to change."
You squeezed your eyes shut, the lump in your throat returning, but this time it wasn't from fear. It was from the overwhelming love you felt for your wife, for her support and her fierce protectiveness. You didn't have to be strong with her, not when she was willing to carry some of the weight for you.
"I don't feel brave," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
Athena leaned back slightly, just enough to tilt your chin up so you could meet her eyes. "That's because you're human," she said softly. "We all get scared. But what matters is you didn't let it break you. You're still here. And you've got me by your side."
You had been running — trying to outrun the fear and the trauma — but now, wrapped in Athena's arms, you realized you didn't have to run anymore.
"I'm scared," you whispered, feeling the vulnerability in those words, but also the relief in finally admitting it.
Athena pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, her lips lingering there for a moment. "I know, baby. But you're not alone. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together."
And you truly believed her.
The weight in your chest didn't disappear completely, but it lightened. The anxiety was still there in the back of your mind but it was quieter now, less overwhelming. You curled up closer to Athena and in this moment, in her arms, you felt safe, even when the outside world felt uncertain.
Athena held you for what felt like hours, neither of you speaking much, just being in each other's presence. Every now and then, she would whisper soft reassurances, promising to always protect you.
Eventually, the exhaustion caught up to you, your body and mind finally giving in to the safety of her embrace. You let yourself relax completely, your head resting against her chest as your breathing slowed. Athena's fingers gently combed through your hair, her touch lulling you into a peaceful state you hadn't felt in what seemed like forever.
"I love you," you murmured, your voice barely audible as sleep began to take over.
Athena smiled against your hair, her arms tightening around you. "I love you too. Always." And with those words, you drifted off, curled up in the safest place you'd ever known.
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