Peace Like A River Part 8
A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story
Summary: Reader is a stand up comic with a pretty dark past. She has a three new lights in her life: her daughter, Violet; her anonymous correspondent, Dear Friend; and Gwilym Lee.
Word Count: 3.7K
Tag List: @psychosupernatural, @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv-7867, @unicorn-princess-1999, @delilahmay39, @chlobo6, @dragon-out-of-water, @radio-hoo-ha If you want to be added, let me know!
A/N: oof y’all this is a big one
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VII
Part 8 here we go!!!
“I want to meet my daughter.”
“No,” you said instinctively.
“Don’t be so quick to decide,” Henry said. “After all-”
“No,” you repeated, firmer this time.
He sighed, but you detected sarcasm behind it. “Alright then. Guess I’ll just have one with Stacy.”
“Stacy doesn’t want kids,” you said.
“Ha!” he shot back. “You said the same thing, I still put one in you.”
You bit your lip and squeezed Gwilym’s hand. He looked at the phone as if it were gum he’d scraped off his shoes.
“That’s not fair,” you said.
“The world ain’t fair, Y/N,” he said with so much condescension you thought your head might explode. “But the way I see it, you’ve got two choices: bring the girl to meet me and you can be right there with her or I stay with Stacy and you’ll just have to imagine - or perhaps remember - what will happen to her.”
A tear rolled down your cheek.
“You are such an asshole,” you said shakily. “Why do you even want to meet her? You signed away -”
“I didn’t do that by choice and you know it,” he cut across you. “It was part of our deal. Well, I’m striking a new deal.”
You clapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the sob threatening to escape. You looked at Gwilym and his heart nearly broke at your helplessness. He pressed his lips to the back of your hand.
“When would we even be able to do this?” you returned. “I’m on tour right now.”
Gwilym shot you a horrified look that you were actually considering this.
“I know your last show is back in New York,” he said. “That’s when I want to meet her.”
“I need to think about this,” you said.
“You’ve got twenty-four hours,” he said. “Or I’m asking Stacy to marry me.”
“Are fucking kidding me?!” you cried. “You’d stoop that low just to spite me?!”
“You’re damn right I would!” he yelled back. “You think you’re so high and mighty now that you’re famous, but don’t you ever forget who you really are - just another bitc-”
You hung up on him once again. You looked over at Gwilym as your mouth began to tremble with the emotions flooding to the surface.
“What am I going to do?” you whimpered.
“Say no,” he said. “You can’t let him use Stacy against you.”
“Don’t you see?” you said. “He’s made whatever happens to Stacy my fault. Because I could have done something. He’s put this on me!”
“What he does to Stacy is his fault - his choice,” he argued. “It’s nobody else’s.”
“I can’t let him do what he did to me to someone else,” you said. “I can’t.”
“You can’t protect everyone, Y/N,” he reminded you.
“You’re right,” you said quietly as more tears spilled out. “Turns out, I can’t even protect my own daughter.”
“Yes, you can,” he protested. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do,” you returned.
“Y/N…”
“I know,” you said. “But it’s just one time and then we never have to see him again.”
Gwilym scooted closer to you and took your face in his hands.
“Y/N, please,” he said. “Please don’t do this.”
“He’s given me no other choice,” you said, pulling away from him. “And I’ll be right there with her. I’ll meet him in public, so he can’t start anything, and -”
“Hold on, are you saying you’re going alone?” he wondered.
“Well, yeah,” you said, blinking at him.
“Oh, no you’re not,” he said. “When’s your last day of tour?”
You told him.
“I’ll be in New York with the boys then,” he said. “I’m going with you.”
“No!” you cried, eyes going wide and grabbing his hands again. “No, I don’t want him to hurt you!”
He smiled at you. “He won’t, love. And I’ll think he’ll be even less inclined to try something with you if you have a man with you.”
You considered this. You really hated to bring anyone around Henry, much less the two most precious people in your life. Fear clawed at your heart. Henry almost always carried his gun and a knife on him. If anything happened, you could lose everything.
“I’ll negotiate some terms for this meeting,” you said. “Are you sure about this?”
“I cannot let you go alone,” he assured you. “I will not.”
“Thank you,” you whispered.
You leaned towards him and rested your forehead against his. You held your face between his hands, wiping some fresh tears away with his thumb. You wondered how things had gotten so heavy. It was not quite so much of a burden with Gwilym to help.
A gasp left your mouth when you opened your eyes and saw the time on his watch.
“Gwilym, you’ve got to go,” you said. “Your interview.”
He glanced at the time and saw it too. “Damn. I’ll come straight back, after.”
“Don’t worry about that, I have a show tonight,” you said. “Spend some time with the guys. I can handle this.”
“Alright, love,” he agreed, kissing your forehead. “I’ll see you later.”
“See you later,” you returned.
He finally parted from you, leaving your skin itching for his return. He said a quick goodbye to Violet as well and then was gone. When the door closed behind him, you reached into the desk drawer to read his latest letter.
It was much the same as the others. A brief update on his emotional well-being, something about another book he’d read. He also mentioned you and something you’d said that stuck with him. He told Dear Friend how much she would like you. You chuckled to yourself. When you reached the end of the letter, it hit you. This was the first one since the first admission of love that he had not written “I love you.” Your brow furrowed. Had his feelings actually changed?
You began to write a response, but you were having a difficult time. So much was on your mind now. Henry, Stacy, Gwilym, Violet. The huge web all of you were caught up in. For the first time, you didn’t feel like writing. With a sigh, you abandoned the letter for now and checked your emails. Your manager told you that he’d paid Stacy her final paycheck and they were looking for a new assistant, but since you only had two weeks left of tour, they would probably start when you returned to LA. It was a bit of a nuisance to be on your own, but you could manage.
That night, you let everything go as you got on the stage. It was a welcome relief to disappear behind your jokes once more and engage with a crowd for a while. You didn’t have to think much about Henry or Gwilym or anyone. It was just you and your audience. You could just have fun and laugh. It was nice.
After the show, you called Henry back. You were nervous but he picked up quickly and you told him you would meet him when you were back in New York.
“Some ground rules,” you said.
“I’m listening,” he replied.
“No weapons,” you told him. “Not your gun, not your knife, nothing that could hurt me or Violet.”
“So her name is Violet?” he asked.
“You didn’t know?”
“You never told me a goddamn thing about her, how was I supposed to know?”
“Whatever, do I have your word that you won’t bring any of your usual shit?” you pressed.
“Fine,” he agreed. “Anything else?”
“This is a one time meeting,” you said firmly. “I am under no obligation to foster a relationship between you and her. If she wants to meet you again she may do so when she is eighteen.”
He sighed. “I’m her father.”
“Speaking of which, you aren’t allowed to tell her who you are,” you snapped. “She doesn’t have a father.”
“Are you serious?!”
“As a heart attack,” you said. “These are my terms.”
“Okay,” he said, but he sounded hesitant. “I won’t tell her.”
“And you will not trick me into this again,” you said. “Your next attempt to contact me will be ignored. My management team will know your name and will screen anything from you or anyone associated with you, including the whole fucking NYPD. Do you understand?”
“You’re getting ridiculous,” he said.
“Do you understand?”
“I understand,” he said irritably. “Fine.”
“Good,” you said. “I’ll text you when and where we can meet close to the date.”
“Whatever,” he said, and hung up.
You heaved a sigh. “This is gonna be a long two weeks.”
You could not have been more wrong. The next two weeks flew by. Normally, you were pretty pumped about the end of a tour, but you were dreading this one. The meeting with Henry loomed ahead like a cave with a wide mouth, but complete darkness inside.
What made it worse was that you wouldn’t see Gwilym until New York either. You did eventually write back to his letter, but it felt shallow and empty. Completely devoid of any real meaning. But you wanted to send it as quickly as possible. Perhaps the reason he’d stopped saying “I love you” was because he felt the distance, even in the letters. Or perhaps he’d put the distance there himself as he got closer to you outside of them.
It was just after Thanksgiving and you were back in New York. The air was chilly with the threat of winter, but everything looked warm and festive. It was a relief that this would be over soon and you could move on with your holidays, just you and Violet. The draw back was that Gwilym was going back home, and you’d be further from him than you had been since before you reconnected. It broke your heart to think of it.
Gwilym arrived to pick you and Violet up from your room. You were staying in the same hotel this time, but you could hardly be excited about it. Your stomach twisted up in knots as the hour grew closer to confronting your ex-husband. You subconsciously grabbed the scar on your side from your last encounter with him. It felt like that wound was opening again.
“You alright?” Gwilym asked.
“No, honestly,” you replied. “I hate this.”
“I know, love,” he said, pressing a kiss you the top of your head. “It won’t be long. You can do it.”
“Don’t let go of me,” you said, like a little girl asking her dad not to let go of her bike when she’s learning to ride. Only, a lot worse than scrapes and bruises were at risk.
“Mommy, why are we meeting this man?” Violet asked.
“I used to know him,” you explained. “And it’s important that I talk to him.”
“But you don’t like him?” she wondered.
You shook your head. “No, I don’t.”
“I don’t wanna go,” she whined. “I don’t wanna!”
You wished it was that simple. That you could stamp your foot and say no and get your way. But you couldn’t. Not with his threat against someone you knew. You regretted not talking to Stacy more, but you weren’t sure you could have convinced her to leave him. But if you only opened up to people, then they would know. Guilt washed over you. Had you doomed her by keeping your guard up? You couldn’t think about that now.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you said to her. “But we only have to go once.”
You walked to the park where you were meeting Henry. The beauty of the city in this season was lost on you as your nerves made every shaky step harder and harder to take. If Gwilym and Violet were not holding your hands you were sure you would have collapsed already.
You came around the corner to the park and you spotted him. He was not very tall, but he was bulky. He’d gained some weight since you last saw him, but you were sure he had not lost any of his old strength. He stood up from the bench he was on when he saw you coming. Every cell on your body was screaming at you to run. To get as far away from him as possible. You stopped walking to take a breath.
“Nearly there, Y/N,” Gwilym said gently.
You nodded, inhaling deeply again and started forward. Henry was only feet away from you now. The places on your body where he’d done the most damage were lighting up with the memory of his strikes. Your left eye throbbed. The burn on your collarbone grew hot. The cut on your side stung.
“Y/N,” Henry said.
“Henry,” you returned with a stiff nod.
Violet stood in front of you, but she backed up into your legs, looking warily up at Henry. He looked at Gwilym.
“Who’s this?” he wondered.
“Gwilym Lee,” Gwilym answered.
“What are you, her boyfriend?” Henry asked.
“That’s not your business,” you interjected. “You’re here to talk to Violet.”
“Right,” he said, clearing his throat. He went to kneel down to greet her but you stopped him.
“Hold it,” you said. “Show me your waistband.”
“Come on, I left my gun in the car,” he told you. “My knife too.”
“I’ll believe that when I see it,” you said. “Show me.”
He groaned, rolled his eyes, and then lifted his sweater and undershirt. You found no holster or knife clip.
“Go ahead,” you said.
He knelt in front of her. “Hi, Violet. My name’s Henry.” He held his hand out to her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and then looked up at you. “The bad man?”
Before you could answer, Henry sprang to his full height. You flinched.
“The bad man?” he repeated, practically spitting at you.
Gwilym wrapped his arm protectively around your shoulders, but you didn’t relax. Violet whimpered beside you and wrapped her arms around your leg.
“That slipped out,” you said. The familiar need to protect Henry’s feelings and appease him arose in you. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, you oughta be,” he said. “You’re already setting her up not to like me.”
“Why should she?” you blurted out.
“Hey, watch it with the fuckin’ attitude,” he warned, stepping toward you.
“Is that a threat?” Gwilym challenged, moving to stand between you and Henry.
“Mommy,” Violet said, tugging on your jacket and cutting the quickly growing tension. “I gotta go potty.”
“Okay, sweetie,” you said, taking her hand. “Let’s go find the restroom.”
“There’s a building just down the path,” Henry said, his shoulders relaxing.
“Okay,” you returned. “We’ll be right back.”
Gwilym watched you disappear with Violet into the building Henry referred to. He felt tense now standing beside your ex-husband, who had caused you so much pain. He didn’t even know half of it, he was sure. Anger was boiling up inside of him, but he wanted to keep a cool head for your sake. You were anxious enough already.
“So, how do you know Y/N?” Henry asked.
Gwilym blinked at him.
“We used to work together,” he answered shortly.
“So you’re just friends?”
“Sure.”
“And Violet, she likes you?”
“I would think so considering how often she hugs me.”
Henry sighed and toed the ground with his boot, stirring up some dust. “Ah, fuck.”
“What?” wondered Gwilym.
“It’s just shitty how it all worked out,” he said. “I hate this.”
Gwilym was shocked. Had Henry changed?
“If she hadn’t left, we could have been happy,” Henry said.
Gwilym couldn’t hold back any more. “Are you joking? If you hadn’t treated her like a punching bag, maybe she wouldn’t have left!”
“Hey, what the hell do you know?” Henry shot back.
“Did it make you feel better?” Gwilym cried. “Burning her, slapping her around? Did it make you feel like a man? To force yourself on someone smaller than you and helpless?”
“She earned everything she got!” Henry shouted. “A good woman doesn’t talk shit to her husband!”
“Tell me, what exactly were you doing to be a husband worthy of her respect?”
Henry flared up and glowered at Gwilym. His hands balled into fists, which did not go unnoticed by the latter.
“Going to hit me?” Gwilym challenged. “Or do you exclusively beat on people who can’t fight back?”
“Hey, FUCK YOU!” Henry bellowed.
Gwilym laughed in his face. “Raise your voice all you want, Henry. You’re a tiny, pathetic little man, and you don’t scare me.”
Henry swung at Gwilym who only leaned back to avoid the impact. But the former had put all his weight behind the punch, so missing threw him off balance, and he stumbled. Gwilym took this opportunity to shove Henry several feet back. He caught himself and re-centered, preparing to lunge at Gwilym again.
You were drying Violet’s hands when you heard Henry curse loudly, and assumed it was directed at Gwilym. A nervous twinge went through you and you gulped. You wondered what had been said and if it was still escalating.
“Come on, sweetie,” you said, taking Violet’s hand. “Hurry.”
You walked quickly outside, and you saw Henry throw a punch but miss. Then you saw him prepare to strike a second time. You took off running, hurtling toward Gwilym. Violet gave a surprised cry and followed close behind, sprinting beside you at a rate that was impressive, though you couldn’t even process it. You had missile lock on Gwilym as Henry raised his hand.
“Don’t you TOUCH HIM!” you screamed, casting yourself between the men.
You faced Henry, arms spread in front of Gwilym. You glared fiercely at your ex-husband, surprised at his newfound hesitation. Violet caught up and hid herself behind Gwilym. Your chest heaved as you caught your breath.
Gwilym blinked, shocked at your sudden appearance and your ferocious defense of him. Your need to protect others from Henry’s cruelty became even clearer to him now. Even though you were smaller, weaker, and more afraid, you stood there in front of him, shielding him and your daughter. His admiration for you grew about tenfold. As did his love.
You waited for Henry to strike. You could not allow him to get to Gwilym and Violet. Your whole heart stood behind you, and you would shield it with your life if you had to. Henry stepped closer, and you brought your hands forward and rammed both fists into his chest. He was so thrown off by it, he fell onto his back.
“This was a mistake,” you said to Gwilym, but without facing him. You knew better than to turn your back on Henry. “Let’s go.”
Henry rolled onto his side and then scrambled to his feet.
“Hold on, I’m not finished,” he said.
“I am,” you retorted. “Deal’s off. Fuck you.”
He opened his mouth to reply, but Violet again interrupted.
“Daddy, hold me!” she whined.
You and Henry both whipped around - you terrified, and he hopeful. But then you saw it. She was reaching up for Gwilym, ignoring Henry entirely. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and she was shaking. Your heart ached for her. You knew she must so scared and confused. Gwilym stooped down and lifted her into his arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and let out a sob.
“It’s alright, love,” he said, rubbing her back. “I’ve got you.”
You turned to Henry. “We’re leaving. Contact me again, and I’ll file harassment charges.”
“This is bullshit,” he said.
“Get bent,” you returned.
Gwilym approached. He had Violet on his hip, so he wrapped his free arm around your waist. You turned, feeling more secure now, and the three of you walked way.
“Y/N!” Henry called.
You ignored him.
“Y/N!”
You flipped him off as you walked.
As you headed back to the hotel, Violet relaxed. She was not asking questions, just holding Gwilym around his neck and relying on him for comfort. You took her hand.
“I love you,” you told her. “I’ll never put you through that again. I’m sorry, Violet.”
“I love you too, Mommy,” she returned. “I’m okay. You’re okay. That’s what matters.”
You smiled at her. Then she closed her eyes and rested on Gwilym. He looked over at you and smirked.
“You were really amazing back there,” he told you. “I’m so, so proud of you.”
Your heart swelled at his praise. “Thanks!”
When you got back to the hotel, Joe, Ben, and Rami were all there in the lobby, clearly fretting over Gwilym’s return. When they saw him in one piece, they all sighed with relief.
“How’d it go?” Joe wondered.
“Fine,” Gwilym assured him. “Y/N set him straight.”
“Good for you,” Rami said, clapping you on the shoulder as you grinned.
“Hey, would you guys mind taking Violet for a little while?” Gwilym asked.
You shot him a quizzical look.
“I just want to talk to you,” he said. “Privately. Is that alright?”
“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “Do you guys mind?”
“Not at all,” Ben answered.
“What d’you say, Vi?” Gwilym asked her. “Wanna spend some time with your uncles?”
She looked at the three of them, a slow smile spreading across her lips. Joe made a goofy face and did a raspberry at her and she giggled.
“Yeah!” she agreed.
“Good girl!” Gwilym said, handing her off to Joe.
You waved to her as Gwilym led you to the elevator.
“Wait, are we going to your room?” you wondered.
He nodded. “Yeah. It’s important.”
Confusion and a jolt of worry went through you. You feared - irrationally - that he was going to tell you this was all too much for him and end your friendship. It had to be about what happened with Henry. Was he going to scold you for trying to protect him? You really had no idea what else it could be.
When you made it to his room, utterly lost at the purpose of all this, he quickly opened the door and almost pushed you inside. Where had this sudden intensity come from?
The door clicked shut and you looked at him, distressed.
“Gwil, what’s going -”
He cut you off with a kiss. His lips were hot, needy, and desperate against yours. His mouth swallowed your yelp of surprise. You could fight it no longer. You closed your eyes and kissed him back, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melted into him.
