#angustuckoneshot

[retvenkos]

best of us

Tuck Everlasting - A Miles and Angus Tuck Story

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 10

Summary: Silence lapsed between them again. Angus waited for Miles to say something more about the girl he had fallen for, but Miles was too embarrassed to speak. Angus caught a fish and reeled it in, his movements second nature and efficient. He cast out his line, again, and Miles spoke.

The lake around them was still, its blue waters the same color of the cloudless sky - bright and cheerful. Angus breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh, afternoon breeze with a smile. Miles stared at him from the opposite end of the boat, quiet but with an amused expression on his face. Angus could feel his son’s gaze and turn to him with a raised eyebrow. The two cast their lines for fishing, their movements methodical and in sync despite not sharing a word.

Both of the men watched the water ripple outward from where they had disturbed it, contemplating how the water changed as it went. The world around them was quiet, and the two of them relaxed in the stillness. No words were exchanged between them for a few minutes, and the only sound was the breeze threading through the trees and the birds singing in the summer heat.

“You always were better at fishing than Jesse.” Angus eventually spoke in a soft tone, his head inclined toward Miles. “He’s never been able to sit still for longer than five minutes. He’d rather go for a swim or climb in a tree.”

“And break his leg on the way down.”

Angus chuckled and the boat shook, the lake rippling from the movement.

“Yeah. That boy’s broke more bones than I can count and always manages to turn out alright in the end.”

“That’s the gift of youth, right?” Miles joked, but there was something nostalgic in his words. Angus noticed and looked at his son, his brow furrowing quizzically.

“Now, what has you thinking of life?”

Miles looked down, suddenly very interested with the water below. The tips of his ears turned red, and Angus could guess that the rest of his face looked the same way. The older man chuckled, seeing some of himself in his boy. 

Miles mumbled, “The future, I suppose.” Angus hummed and Miles relented, “Rose.”

“A girl,” Angus sighed, “That always gets a man thinking.”

Silence lapsed between them again. Angus waited for Miles to say something more about the girl he had fallen for, but Miles was too embarrassed to speak. Angus caught a fish and reeled it in, his movements second nature and efficient. He cast out his line, again, and Miles spoke.

“I love her.”

Angus whistled lowly. “You tell her that?” Miles huffed at his father’s words and Angus laughed again, clapping him on the shoulder. “You should, if you haven’t,” his words turned sincere and Miles looked up, “Loving someone is an action - not just a feeling.”

Miles nodded understandingly, thinking of the kind, bookish girl he had been courting the past year. He thought of her smile, how it would make his heart constrict and his stomach flip. His mind rested on the feeling of her hand in his - warm and small, holding onto him tight.

“I want to marry her.” Miles spoke, and a smile broke out on his face at the sheer possibility of the overwhelming happiness he would feel. ‘We could have a life together, close by.” Angus said nothing, just nodded. He knew what Miles was feeling, and the time to consider consequences would come after his world stopped spinning. “We wouldn’t have to be without each other. Nothing could come between us.”

Something pulled at Miles’ fishing pole, and he started to reel it in. Angus watched his son thoughtfully, trying to fathom who his boy would become.

“Rose is a nice girl,” Angus remarked, pride filling his voice, a smile softening his years. “She’d make a wonderful bride.”

Miles nodded, excitement filling him completely, the sun making his brown eyes sparkle.

“She’s the best of us.”

[retvenkos]

oblivion

Tuck Everlasting - Angus x Mae, angst

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 17

Summary: Angus’ breathing was going ragged, and he reached for something to latch onto - something that could ground him in this reality, this unforgiving and long life he was to live.

The rocking chair moved back and forth on it’s own, the gentle wind from the opened window pushing into action, holding and comforting someone who was not there. Angus Tuck, its owner, kneeled on the floor, his bent bent and head bowed. He did not seem to notice the chill, or hear the tinkling of the wind chimes that sat by the door. He looked down at the floor, closed off to the world around him, as he examined what lay in front of him.

Clothing made for a baby girl, no larger than the size of his forearm, lay scattered on the floor around him; little socks, minuscule mittens, dresses of soft cotton, and hats of itchy wool. The clothing sat in front of him, newly made and never worn, too small for anyone who remained.

It was ghost clothing, now, details of a person who never was.

Angus stared at it, tears welling in his eyes, trying to reconcile with the fact that these clothes, made for a child, would never be worn by who they were made for.

How many hours had Mae stayed up late, burning the candle long after the sun had gone down, sewing and knitting; fashioning an entire wardrobe for the baby that was in her daughter in-law’s stomach? How many times had she sat across from Angus, asking him what color would go best? How many days had she taken Rose’s hands in her own, smiled, and asked what she would name the baby (a girl, she was sure of it)?

Anna, had been her response.

Angus had always wanted a daughter. A granddaughter would have changed his world.

Angus’ breathing was going ragged, and he reached for something to latch onto - something that could ground him in this reality, this unforgiving and long life he was to live.

His rough hands brushed against a baby blanket, a small but sturdy piece of work that reminded him of all those years ago, when he had tucked his son’s into bed, ruffling their hair before the fell asleep. Angus picked it up carefully, and when the cloth unraveled to show a single name, embroidered across it, he clutched it to his chest, allowing himself to heave with emotion.

Anna.

She was going to be Miles’ little girl, before Rose had left, taking all their joys with her. He could already see her in his mind’s eye - light hair like her uncle, dark eyes like her father, a soft and kind smile like her mother. She was going to be the sky of a sunny day - clear, with a few fluffy clouds around her, cheerful and full of life.

He started to cry, and his tears fell on the blanket, wetting the fabric.

The blanket was a brilliant yellow - like the sun that used to shine above them, its rays filtering through the trees, dappling the ground and making the earth look like the coat of a fawn - beautiful, serene, and youthful. It was soft and warm, like a sweet embrace at the end of a long day, arms that wrap around you and embrace you for a long time, remind you it was going to be okay. It was made for her - the little girl that was going to bring so much into their everlasting lives.

It was. What was to become of it, now? Where would all of this clothing go? What would he do with these hopes, now shattered and broken?

Angus couldn’t answer. All he could do was hold the baby blanket and cry.

And what of Thomas, that little boy who had been the best of them all? He had his uncle’s taste for adventure, his father’s wonder of the world, and his mother’s belief in the goodness of others. Where was that goodness, now? Where was her belief in the family that had always loved her, always cradled her when came to them, in need of something she could not find elsewhere?

It was on the wind, now. 

Lost to oblivion.

Would any of them see that part their family again?

They wouldn’t feel whole again, if they didn’t.

They would be broken into pieces - scattered like the clothing around him.

Mae found him sobbing, his body shaking with the effort of grieving, and she kneeled down next to him. She said nothing to her husband, the sadness etched into her face more telling than any words she could string together, but held him.

The two cried together, their bodies molding against one another, their tears staining the others clothing, their grief mixing and compounding the moment, solidifying it in the sands of time, creating a point in time where they’re longing for what might have been was everlasting.

[retvenkos]

will be

Tuck Everlasting - Mae Tuck x Angus Tuck, fluff

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 13

Summary: Her husband hummed a familiar tune, and Mae allowed herself to enjoy the quiet moment between them, this simple pleasure that the two of them shared. The night was full, and the two of them lived.

Living was an action, not a state of being.

With every passing day, Mae Tuck understood that more and more. How many years had it been since they found they could not die? It was before Thomas... before Miles had gotten married... Before the whole town seemed to set sick and they were fine...

Maybe it was when Jesse had fallen off the roof that winter...

Perhaps they had known, quietly and without saying so, when Angus has that accident while riding a year after having moved to Treegap.

7 years. 

That seemed right.

A lot had happened, in those seven years. Happiness had come to them in spades, their lives made brighter by Treegap and that secret stream. It gave the family hope that perhaps their fate was not as bad as they feared. If the rest of forever was like these last 7 years, they could live with very few qualms.

But Mae could feel the winds of change in her bones.

Even though she could no longer feel the ache of what was to be a stormy day in the leg she had twisted when she was young, there were still some things she could feel on a deeper level - something she couldn’t explain. Mae had that feeling now; a storm was coming, just starting to brew on the horizon, and there was no telling when it would come.

But for now, she would hold onto these precious, happy days. The world always gave very few, and she would hold as many as she could in her arms and sewn into her skirts. She would be content now, and worry when the storm was overhead. It was preparation, enjoying these happy moments in her tiny cottage in the wood.

“What are you thinking about?” Angus walked over to his wife, looking at her wistful expression as she stared into the fire, hair falling into her face.

“Our lives.” Mae’s eyes cleared as she looked at him, and Angus pushed a lock of hair out her her face. His hand lingered there, right outside the apple of her cheeks, and the two smiled at each other. “They’ve been beautiful.”

“And they will be.” Angus said, earnestly. He offered her his hand, “Let me show you.”

Mae shook her head at her husband’s antics (just like he was the day they met), huffing a breath but standing, anyway, placing her hand in his.

Angus smiled, a youthful twinkle in his eyes, and brought her close, leading her is a slow, comforting dance. Mae rested her head against her husbands chest. His heart beat was strong and steady, right there alongside her. She smiled, and some of her years melted away.

Her husband hummed a familiar tune, and Mae allowed herself to enjoy the quiet moment between them, this simple pleasure that the two of them shared. The night was full, and the two of them lived.

“If the rest of forever was this way, I’d live a wonderful life.”

“Darling Mae, we’ll make it that way.”

[retvenkos]

three

Tuck Everlasting - A Mae x Angus and Baby!Miles Story.

tuck everlasting month 2020, day 9

Summary: “Shhh... Miles.” Mae came to stand over her life’s work, still in its fledgling state, with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s time for bed now, my love.”

At three years old, Miles Tuck was his parents’ whole world.

Miles had been sickly baby; pale and skinny from the moment he was born. The midwife had told a tired Mae that she didn’t believe he would live long, with how early he had come. He had been birthed two months too soon, and she would have to keep him as close to her as she could, if she wished for him to grow at all.

They had prayed, that night, their voices hushed as their candles burned low into the next day.

The candle still burned low and late into the evening, but their small home was now filled with laughter and joy. At three years old, Miles Tuck was a happy child, his face no longer wan and blurry eyed, but flush with blood and bright with wonder.

That night, after the sun had gone down, Miles had begged his mother and father to take him outside. There they stargazed and caught fireflies, their smiles reflecting the light of the moon - gentle and full. After a few hours, Mae held her little boy (still small, but growing stronger) in her arms and told him it was time for bed. Miles protested, but a yawn escaped him, and he giggled embarrassedly before agreeing and walking inside.

The family walked inside and Miles, his dark locks mussed, dragged his baby blanket across the floor, his steps at three years old still a little uncertain. Angus walked closely behind him, ready to catch him if he stumbled, and Mae followed, a content smile on her face.

“Up!” Angus lifted his baby boy gently and set him down on his bed, cradling Miles in his strong arms as though he could break. Helping him into his night wear, Angus listened as Miles babbled on about how the fireflies were stars once, but they loved the trees so much they left the sky to come closer to the ground. Angus nodded at all the right moments, in awe of the simplistic, yet beautiful way in which his son saw the world.

All these thoughts, at such a young age? Angus looked at his small, vulnerable progeny and knew that he would change the world.

“Shhh... Miles.” Mae came to stand over her life’s work, still in its fledgling state, with a twinkle in her eye. “It’s time for bed now, my love.”

Miles looked at his parents with all the wonder of the world in his large, brown eyes. He nodded, then, falling silent with a reverence that made his parents’ hearts twist with love.

Angus gave his son a hug, marveling at how tiny Miles was in his arms. He stood and moved to the end of the bed, watching fondly as Mae tucked her baby in, kissing the top of his head and smoothing his hair. She joined him, and the two watched as sleep quickly overtook their child.

He was so small; hands curled over the edge of a quilt, toes curling in on themselves. He was so small, and yet he was everything to Mae and Angus.

How long had Mae cried, after the midwife had taken her leave and she as left with a child, doomed to leave her? How many times had Angus looked at his boy and thought that it could be the last?

They had him, now, and they would be happy to live with him this way forever.

“Nothing could ever pull me away from our boy.” Angus grabbed his wife’s hand, his eyes never leaving his son. Mae smiled and leaned against him, a warmth spreading through her that could only be described as love. “He’s ours, darling Mae.”

He kissed his wife and she held him close. “He’s home. Nothing can change that.”

Nothing.