Starting this off… the names is funny courtland and ryland both have ‘land’ in it and court and colt are similar.., they’re brother your honor
court is the oldest (by 3-5 years), while colt and ryland are twins (whose older, up to you)
their father. Highest grade dick. One of the most bastardized bastards to ever fucking exist on the plain of earth
(According to the movie) court was 15 when he shot his father, and 8 years later (when he was 23) he got recruited into the sierra program
think it would be funny if court was slighter smaller than colt and ryland (bc in the book he is 5’11” while gosling is 6’)
(This is if the brothers ever united…) courtland has grown detached from his name that he can forget to respond to it when the twins use it, he’s not used to being addressed like that, its always been just a number
Court witnessed a lot of things (ryland graduating college, colts stunt works and even watching movies he stunted for, etc etc) from afar bc he was afraid of them being used as leverage
after Ryland got fired, Colt was right there to support him, lots of movie marathons and myb ice cream as well
Colt has prescriptions contacts instead of glasses, he says he doesnt wanna look nerdy
colt name is colton 🤷
Ryland found out abt Colt’s accident while he was teaching in class, Court found out while he was out of the country on a job
Colt also has chronic pain from the accident
Ryland annoyed (cared for) colt and checked in on him a lot, took at least 3 month off to help him and was couch surfing (which means he was doing sub plans for 3 weeks)
Colt, fucking hated that, he hated the vulnerability and he hated feeling like a burden and taking his brother away from his (shit) paying job
Ryland throws most of his money into his classroom, his students
If colt visits ryland, they always stop at the diner that ryland is a regular at
all of them, chronic coffee drinkers, Ryland is sweet asf, Colt does black (when its brewed, he drinks, heat be damned), Court just drinks whatever’s available, sweet, black, doesnt matter
Ryland at least knows Latin, Colt knows French and probably spanish… Court probably lost count of the languages he knows, picked up a lot working
they are all on the spectrum, one way or another (fucking courland ‘im talked out, lets go gentry’ gentry and those mf with their thumbs up)
colt would prob be bi or smth, aroace ryland (tried at least one relationship) and court forgot that those were a thing (as stated, he got incarcerated when he was 15)… so probably aroace as well
This is all i got for now… :)))))
lemme know if i should post doodles of these fuckos
(Courtland is the oldest, Ryland and Colt are twins) (I haven’t watched the gray man, so my courtland will be extremely off I apologise in advance)
Colt hated when people realised he was a twin when he was young. It never really bothered Ryland but Colt always got ticked off because he was his own person, dammnit, and he hated people thinking he was Ryland because they pitied him.
Court would mix them up on purpose after particularly rough nights with their dad to get Colt annoyed, which would in turn make Ryland laugh.
Ryland was always the middle ground between the two even though he was the youngest. He was the most sensible one, and on more than one occasion had to stop Colt & Court from settling the stupidest arguments with wrestling matches. (Colt was always overconfident, Court knew he’d get an easy win)
Colt finds that poem about the spider ('To be small' or something like that please tell me you know what I'm talking about) and sends it to Ryland, who proceeds to cry about it for days. He nearly throws up and has to step outside when his class dissects frogs for an assignment. (is that what happens in american schools i don't know I've seen it in movies)
Colt visits Court in jail a couple times, but Court refuses to see him every single time. Ryland is the one who manages to convince Colt to just give up. After Court ‘dies’ in jail, they have the nastiest argument about it, horrible to the point that neither of them speak to the other for months. Colt blames Ryland, Ryland blames himself. This is the only time they ever argue about it, and the last time they mention Court.
Court doesn't reach out until the Hail Mary launch. He only decides to do it because now that Ryland’s face was everywhere, what if someone put 2 and 2 together, and found Colt too? What if someone mistakened Colt for Sierra Six?
He blames himself for not being in touch because maybe if he’d known, he could’ve stopped it. It’s too late now of course, but in his head, he somehow gets to the conclusion to thank Ryland. Because if it wasn’t for him being sent off to die, he would’ve never spoken to Colt again.
He waits outside Colts apartment and doesn’t say a word. Colt doesn’t recognize him at first, and when he does, he’s punching him square across the jaw. How could he not have reached out? After Colt’s accident, after Ryland had publicly lost it and been kicked out of academia? Colt is blurting it out before he realises it, 'You were better off dead'. (‘23’ by Noah Kahan does anyone see the vision?)
Matter of fact, all 3 of them are soo ‘Willing and Able’ by Noah Kahan. Immediately after the aforementioned punch to the face, Colt starts crying. Courtland pulls him into an awkward hug. This is the first time Ryland isn't around to fix their problems.
Pairing(s): Courtland Gentry x Fem!Claire's Nurse!Reader
Summary: Falling in love with your uncle's criminal recruit wasn't something on your to-do list, but it seemed to happen anyway.
Warnings: Medical stuff, canonical violence, blood, fighting,
Word Count: 7,460
Extra Notes: I came back for a minute to post this but I'm still on a hiatus with all of my writing! Also, Reader is a freaky genius girl just like Gabriella from High School Musical, and basically is the youngest person to ever graduate with a medical degree and start practicing medicine with a full license. I looked it up, and Court is supposed to be about 35 for the majority of the movie, so I am making the reader around that same age. I was also not able to find a conclusive answer to how Claire’s parents died, so I kinda just made it up. Happy reading!
pt 2
Claire Fitzroy was a one-of-a-kind kid whom you’d babysat since you were 17 years old. You’d known her parents and uncle for even longer, your mother being good friends with hers and even the maid of honor at her mother’s wedding. You were there as a guest for the special day, despite not being able to remember much of it. The only thing you remembered about it was being the designated flower girl for the day. When you look at photos of the day, you see yourself in a red and purple flowered dress, though you distinctly remember it being green and blue ombre. That might have been the tablecloths, though.
It was when you were 17 years old and Claire was first born with her heart condition that you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Sitting in that hospital hallway with your head in your hands as you waited for the news of Claire, who wasn’t breathing when she came out of your aunt’s womb, you felt so helpless and fearful. You never wanted to feel that way again, especially not in regards to the baby girl you held in your arms only a few hours later. It was love at first sight, and you knew you would do anything for this girl until your days came to an end.
So, with all of that in mind, as you graduated high school and started college, you started your path in medical care, specializing in pediatrics so you would be able to help them with taking care of the young girl alongside her full-time nurse on standby.
Within only six years, you became the youngest person to ever graduate with a medical license. It wasn’t something all that special to you, considering it was all for one person. All for her, the girl you viewed as your little sister and the person who meant the most to you in this world. As soon as you graduated from med school, you became Claire’s full-time caretaker, a fact that her and your parents were more than thrilled about. It helped that Claire absolutely adored you even as an infant. She would always act up unless you were in the room or holding her, and it warmed your heart each and every time. Being able to be around her now every minute of the day was something that made you more than happy, especially since even though you’d heard stories of her being a bit of a hellion for her parents, she was nothing but an angel when around you.
Overall, at only the age of 25, you were the happiest you could ever be with your life as fulfilling as it could be, and your heart full all the time.
That all changed, though, when the Fire Nation attacked when you turned 28, and both she and your parents died on their way back from the store buying your birthday present. It was a truck pile-up that killed them, though the circumstances always seemed especially strange for reasons you couldn’t quite place your finger on.
You held a sobbing Claire in the hospital hallway that night, suppressing your own tears as she exhausted herself and eventually fell asleep in your arms. Later on, Claire’s uncle, Donald, came walking out of their hospital room with a sullen and pale look on his face. It was only at the subtle shake of his head that you let the first tear drop fall.
It had been three years since that day, and you hadn’t been able to celebrate your birthday that same way since. It became a cursed day that brought a heavy rain cloud over your head whenever it approached. Claire had been able to grow from it, and it luckily didn’t impact her personality too much, at least not in a concerning way. She seemed more mellow and sad at times, especially when the anniversary of their death came up, but she was still the same amazing girl you would always love and cherish.
It was an awkward time of year, your birthday. Especially for Claire. You could tell it was strange for the day of her parents' death, along with yours, and your birthday, a day of celebration, to be on the same day because she was never quite sure about what to do.
Was she supposed to celebrate?
Would you get sad if she threw you a little surprise birthday party?
She really had no idea how you felt about the day, when each time it rolled up, you were always taking care of her and making sure she was feeling alright on the day of your family members’ deaths. You never mentioned your birthday, but you always made sure hers was the best day you could ask for.
Although it’s 100% not how you would have wanted the rest of your life to be spent - living in sadness on the one day of your life your parents always tried to make the happiest of the year - you couldn’t do anything to change it and decided to at least make it so that Claire wouldn’t have to struggle that same sadness of a day that is supposed to bring her joy.
When Donald told you about the release of information about the house in Hong Kong that the three of you lived in, you were rightfully anxious. You had known about your uncle’s job since you were a child, and it never bothered you, but this was one of the few times you wished he had a normal, boring job like the rest of the world.
Not that you didn’t already wish that for him, but now especially that it was putting more people you care about in danger.
You were glad he was already way ahead of you about the safety of not only Claire, but also of you. Donald had not only taken over as the acting guardian of Claire, but he also had become a sort of father figure for you to rely on in times of need. With you being the motherly figure of Claire at such a young age, it became hard for you at times to keep up the happy sisterly nurse for her, always strong and never allowing yourself to crumble in front of her, because the gods knew she needed someone like that. With Donald around, you allowed yourself to fall apart bit by bit in his presence because you knew he would always be around to catch you. With him being away on work for most of the time, you were the main caretaker and family member of Claire, and he repaid that not only with money - because yes, he did pay you very handsomely - but also with a shoulder for you to cry on.
He briefed you on Six and what exactly he would be doing in Donald’s place while he was away. Although you weren’t the most comfortable with a stranger in the house at all times, you trusted your uncle with your life. If he trusted this man, then that would be the person in charge of your and Claire’s safety for the time being.
A knock on the door brought you back to the present, where you had been helping Claire look through her records. It was a sort of tradition of yours to pretend to be interested in the other songs when, in reality, you both knew you would choose Silver Bird by Mark Lindsay. After all, it was both of your favorite songs because it was the birthday present your parents had gone to get for you before their crash. Unfortunately, the one they bought was destroyed beyond repair, but you bought a different one and pretended in your mind it was the same one they bought for you.
You got up from where you were kneeling on her bed beside her and ruffled her hair a bit before walking to the front door. You had no doubt the person at the door was this mysterious Six, but you were still slightly cautious and worried about the chance that it wasn’t him.
Looking through the peephole, you saw a man in a dark purple button-up with a gray blazer and matching slacks. Opening up the small mail slot on the door, you spoke. “Identity Challenge: Virgo.”
He responded within a heartbeat. “Response: Jupiter.”
You let out a sigh of relief and relaxed your shoulders that you hadn’t even realized were tensed up. Unlocking the door and opening it up, you got a good look at the man you would be spending the next few months with.
You remember being shocked and scared when you heard how long your uncle was going to be gone for, but there was nothing you could do. His job was demanding, and you could only hope he remained safe throughout it all. He was much more handsome than he was through the distortion of the peephole. You stuck a hand out for him. “Welcome to the Fitzroy house, Mr. Six,” you started, giving him your name right afterwards. “I’m Claire’s primary and full-time nurse and also Donald’s other niece, though not by blood. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know,” you told him with a kind smile. He nodded and stepped through the door, closing it behind him, as you turned to start leading him into the house and to Claire’s room.
“Claire Bear,” you said as you entered the room, noticing she had stopped looking through the records, having chosen Silver Bird as expected and started playing it on the record player, and was now messing around with the Polaroid camera you got for her on her last birthday. “This is… Six. He’ll be staying and looking after us and the house while Uncle D is away.”
Six looked around the room, scanning everything like a true security guard before walking over to the side of the room Claire was at. “Just the two exits?”
“Yeah, that’s right,” you confirmed.
After a moment of silence, Claire spoke up. “Six is an odd name.”
“Claire!” You scolded gently. She sent you a semi-apologetic glance before the man spoke up.
“Yeah, just, uh, 007 was taken, so…” He shrugged, and you let a small sigh of relief, glad he didn’t take any personal offense to the comment. You knew very little about the man from what your uncle told you, so knowing whether Six was his real name or an alias was something that wasn’t mentioned, and you weren’t too keen on asking about it. At least not yet.
“Are you chewing gum?” Claire asked. While they talked, you started collecting the records off the bed to put them back on the shelf under the record player where they belong.
“Yep.”
“We don’t chew gum in this house.”
He sent a glance over at you as he spoke, and you smiled a small, slightly amused smile.
“I wasn’t… briefed,” just in that moment, Claire took a photo of the man with her Polaroid. “Won’t happen… again. Well, I’ll try and stay out of your way, for both of you. Do you mind?” He asked before leaning down and picking up the picture she had just taken of him. After inspecting it for a moment, he asked, “May I?” Indicating he would like to take the photo.
Claire shrugged and replied, “Sure.”
“Thanks,” he expressed as he placed the photo in the inner breast pocket of his blazer. “Nice to meet you,” he said, glancing between you and Claire.
“Likewise, let me know if you need anything,” you told him for the second time. He nodded and walked back out the door of Claire’s room, presumably scanning the rest of the house and doing his job.
“Let me know if you need anything,” Claire mocked after making sure Six had gotten far enough away that he wouldn’t hear. “Can you be any more obvious?”
Your jaw dropped, and you lightly slapped her arm. “Claire! There was nothing to be obvious about,” you deflected, and she raised her eyebrows at you.
“Uh-huh. Sure. I might be 13, but I’m not stupid. You’ve got the hots for that guy,” she said while lightly nudging her elbow into your ribs.
Your jaw dropped even further. “Where did you even learn that term? That’s insane, and you’re insane. Shut up,” you rambled, flustered, and turning your head away from her as she laughed.
You did not have the hots for this new attractive bodyguard your uncle assigned to the two of you. You didn’t.
Okay, so you might have the hots for the new attractive bodyguard your uncle assigned to the two of you. Maybe. But it was only because you spent so little time with people outside of taking care of Claire that it was just nice seeing another face around. You got lonely sometimes in the sense of not having many friends, and the friends you did have, you never really hung out with.
So yeah, maybe you did have the hots for this new guy, but could you blame yourself?
The second time you interacted with Six was later that day in the kitchen as you were preparing a grilled cheese sandwich and broccoli cheese soup (because she doesn’t like tomato soup) for Claire. He walked in with an empty water bottle in his hand. When he saw you, he practically turned the other way and started walking again. “Sorry, I’ll leave you be.”
Without turning around, you spoke up. “Six, you don’t have to completely avoid us. You’re here to protect us, but this is going to be your home as well for the next couple of months. I hope we don’t make you feel uncomfortable because that’s the exact opposite of what I want to do.”
When you turned back around to look at him, he was practically frozen in place. It took a moment of the two of you holding eye contact for him to respond. “Thank you. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
He was a man of few words, that was for sure, but it wasn’t really something you minded. As long as he understood what you were saying, then that was all you needed.
The third time you interacted with Six was around 5 o’clock that day, outside beside the pool, as you and Claire sat on a hanging chair. You were reading a book, and Claire was on her phone playing her favorite game. He walked up the steps beside the house, eating a sandwich, before doing the same thing he did earlier that afternoon and turned around to walk back in the direction he came from. “Excuse me.”
“Looking for your jacket?” Claire asked. He turned around, walking back in your direction before she continued in a mischievous tone. “Looks like I sat on it!”
You scoffed out a laugh, glancing up at Six before going back to your book.
“Is that a secure phone?” He asked. He was only a few feet away from you now, your knee nearly grazing against his thigh.
“All of our phones are secure, don’t worry, Donald had that ensured,” you told him softly, still looking at your book.
“Just got the high score,” Claire said while showing him the phone screen. That made you snap your head to her, looking at her phone to make sure she was telling the truth.
She was.
You clicked your tongue, annoyed. That was your high score that she beat. Now you just had to beat it again.
Claire stuck her tongue out at you childishly, and you scrunched your nose at her playfully. She looked back at Six to continue the conversation. “I had a lot of time to practice after the operation. They made me stay in bed.” She waited a moment, and when she realized Six wasn’t going to respond, she continued with a more mocking tone in her voice. “‘How long they make you stay in bed for?’ Quite a long time. Several weeks, actually. ‘Oh, hope you’re okay.’ Better now, Six. Thanks for asking! How’s your time been here? Enjoying the grounds? ‘Oh, they’re lovely. I like to walk in circles and stare at my shoes.’” You nudged her in the side scoldingly.
“Can I get that jacket?” He asked instead of responding to anything she said. Claire pressed her lips together before pulling the jacket out from under her and handing it to the man.
“I like your tattoo,” she tried another conversation, hoping he would open up and talk to her. “Where’d you get it, prison?”
You pressed a hand to your forehead and let out a sound that was a mix between a scoff and a laugh. “Claire, you can’t just say things like that, dude.”
Six sent you a look that you couldn’t quite decipher before responding to Claire. “Yeah, actually.”
“I’m shocked,” the girl responded sarcastically.
He nodded his head to the side in acknowledgment before turning around and walking until he stopped at the 13-year-old’s next words.
“What’s it mean? The writing?”
“Oh, it’s, you know… Just a guy’s name in Greek.”
That caught your attention, and you placed your bookmark in your book to mark your spot before setting it down in your lap and listening to the conversation. Six glanced over at you, noticing this, and you smiled.
“What guy?” Claire asked persistently.
“Just a guy. You know, trying to get a rock up a hill.”
“Why?”
“They made him.”
“Who made him?”
“The gods.”
“Did they need a rock?” She asked, and you let out a small laugh.
“They were just trying to punish him, I think.”
“Did he deserve it?” She asked him, continuing the conversation even though you could kind of tell Six was getting anxious to leave it.
“Probably.”
“Did he like it?”
“Probably not.”
“So why’d he do it?”
Six nodded thoughtfully before saying, “You ask a lot of questions.”
“And you’re quite the conversationalist,” she retorted. You sent the man an apologetic look before he nodded in both of your directions and replied.
“I’m going to get back to work.”
When he was about halfway across the patio, Claire spoke up again. “Hey! Does he ever get to the top of the hill?”
Six let out a short laugh. “I’ll let you know.”
As he walked off, Claire let out a sigh. “He’s boring to talk to.”
“Well, he wasn’t sent here to talk to us, so I think he’s doing pretty well considering everything,” you told her while poking her cheek annoyingly.
She slapped your hand away with a laugh and went back to playing the game on her phone.
You narrowed your eyes and snatched the phone out of her hand. “Gimme that. You can’t just beat my high score and get away with it!” You told her playfully while starting up a new game. That started a mini war between the two of you, where she would try to do whatever she could to distract you from the game while you tried to beat her new high score.
In the end, you weren’t able to beat it (and you definitely weren’t purposely doing worse to allow her the win).
The next couple of weeks went by without a hitch. Six was still somewhat distant and relatively emotionally absent in both your and Claire’s presence, not to mention the lack of conversation skills he had, but he seemed to be getting more comfortable and less awkward around you two. He would make more jokes, that dry, almost dad humor of his more than enough to make you crack a smile or laugh aloud, and he was also getting less and less shy with touching you, though shy wasn’t exactly the right word for how he had been before, more distant. While his touch never lasted more than a few seconds, he didn’t hold back on placing a hand on the small of your back when he gently manhandled you away from a cabinet he was trying to get into, or when he walked behind you and lightly brushed his hand against your back so that you knew he was there.
Or even when you fell asleep at the table during your nightly tradition of staying there with him, and he picked you up to bring you to your room.
Your relationship with him had become something new. Less than friends, but more than strangers. It was nameless, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.
Now, when there was silence, you didn’t feel like you had to immediately fill it. It was comfortable. He was comfortable. You even started a little ritual where you would sit at the table with him after you put Claire to bed. He would watch the cameras, and you would either read, work on the puzzle that was on the table and had been for weeks, or talk with him.
The talking was usually one-sided, however, and you rarely got more than a one-word response or a grunt. That didn’t stop you from rambling about anything and everything under the stars. He might not be the best conversationalist but he was a damn good listener.
Tonight was like any other night. You’d put Claire to bed about an hour earlier and had been sitting at the table like you’d done for the past week or so. Tonight, you were reading on your Kindle. It was a romance story about a princess and her appointed knight. The princess and the knight were in love, big shocker, but it was forbidden for them to be together.
Lowering the Kindle to your lap, your thoughts drifted off. You couldn’t help but relate yourself and your situation to the book. Although you were no princess, you somehow felt like the princess in the book, slowly falling for her knight in shining armour. The only difference was that it seemed to be a bit more one-sided in your story. It had only been a couple of weeks since he’d arrived but with every interaction, every soft chuckle you got out of him when you said something silly, every small smile he shot Claire’s way when she was being her normal, amazing self made you feel things you’d never felt before for anyone.
You knew about his line of work, though, and specifically about who he was. He was a ghost. He didn’t exist to the world, therefore, he shouldn’t even exist to you. You knew he would never feel the same way, and even if he did, he would never be allowed to act upon it.
But he did exist to you, and that was what made it so hard to get over your growing feelings for him.
With your thoughts distracted and your teeth unconsciously biting at your lower lip, you hadn’t noticed the way Six kept glancing over at you every couple of seconds. It was only when he spoke that you got shaken from the thoughts in your mind and looked over at him. “Claire doesn’t like it when you do that.”
“When I do what?” You asked, confused.
“Chew on your lip,” he said simply.
He was right. Each time Claire caught you chewing your lip, she always smacked you on the arm and scolded you the same way you always scolded her for picking at her cuticles. It made you laugh that he noticed that, and you forced yourself to release your lip from its tooth jail and sigh. “Most of the time, I do it subconsciously. I’ve been trying to get myself to quit it for years, but I’ve never been able to,” you confessed, leaning back in your chair after completely giving up on reading and turning the Kindle off.
He hummed in response, and you let out a soft little laugh sound that he quirked a smile at.
Just as you were about to open your mouth and continue the conversation, you saw him sneakily opening up a packet of gum, sending you a look before he asked, “Well, are you going to tell on me for chewing gum in the house?”
You stared at him incredulously as he stuffed the gum into his mouth and started chewing. You scoffed out a laugh and shook your head. “Your secret’s safe with me, Mr. Number Man,” you teased.
Just as he was about to say something in response, the two of you heard a familiar, feminine voice call out for you and then for the man next to you. “Mr. Six…” She started, her voice sounding strained and laborious. “Something’s wrong,” she gasped out before falling to the floor in a heap.
“Claire!” You yelled out, standing up as soon as she started falling. Six was two steps ahead of you, already running over to her and picking her up. You didn’t even need his instructions when you grabbed the car keys and your phone before heading to the door and opening it for him. It took you less than a minute for you to unlock the car, get in the backseat where Six quickly but gently placed Claire onto your lap, and for him to get into the front and start driving. The entire way, you kept a finger over Claire’s pulse to keep count of her heart rate, all while giving Six directions to Mount St. Mary’s.
When you got there, the car had barely come to a stop before Six had put it into park and opened the door. You followed closely behind him as he carried her into the hospital and placed her onto a wheeled bed as doctors crowded around her and wheeled her away. You followed them as far as you could until they told you to go sit in the hallway until further notice. You sat with your head in your hands while Six stood beside you, offering support with his presence, even if he didn’t hug you or hold your hand.
Later on, after the doctors had transferred her over to a regular hospital room, you were able to go in and see her. The entire time the doctor was speaking, you were holding Claire’s hand with the gentlest grip despite how you wanted to squeeze it for dear life at the fear she just instilled in you.
“She’s stabilized,” the doctor told you, pointing at her now regulated heart rate. “Tell Donald there was a programming glitch. We were able to repair it, non-invasive.”
You nodded before asking. “Is there any possibility this could happen again? Should I- should we be worried?” You corrected yourself. There were the occasional times when you would forget Claire wasn’t your real sister or daughter.
“The probability of this happening again is very slim, but we would like to keep her here for a couple of days to make sure everything stays as it should. We managed to fix it and place some backup protocols into the program as well. The remote system flagged it ten minutes before you pulled up. We can keep track of her pacemaker from just about anywhere.”
“Thank you, really. I’ll let her uncle know right away.”
The doctor nodded at you before you turned to face the small girl. Despite being in such a fragile condition, she was still the strongest girl you’d ever met. You leaned over her to kiss her forehead. With a playful smirk, you told her, “Try not to get into any more trouble in the few minutes I’m away.”
She clicked her tongue, her voice sounding muffled under the mask. “No promises.”
You winked and gently placed her hand down before walking away and passing Six with an acknowledging nod of your head on your way out of the room. Grabbing your phone out of your back pocket, you dialed up your uncle's number and waited for him to answer. Once he spoke into the phone, you let out a small sigh of relief.
“Hey, Uncle D., Claire had an accident. Her pacemaker had a malfunction, so we brought her to the hospital.”
“Is she doing better?” He asked, and you could hear the worried tremor in his voice.
“Yeah.. yeah, she’s doing okay now. They fixed the glitch and everything, but I just wanted to let you know. It was a non-invasive procedure, and they had tracked the glitch ten minutes before we even arrived at the hospital,” you told him.
“Okay. That’s good to hear.”
“They want her to stay here for another day or two just to keep an eye on her. Six and I are going to stay with her the entire time, so we will be okay.”
“Alright, sweetie. Let me know if anything changes, alright?”
“Yeah, will do. Do you want to speak to Claire? I’m sure she’d love to hear from you. I don’t think she’s asleep yet,” you suggested.
“No, let the poor girl get some rest. I’ll call her tomorrow if I can. I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Okay, bye, uncle, we love you.”
With that, you hung up and walked back over to the door of Claire’s room, where you leaned against the opposite wall from Six. Glancing over at Claire, you saw her fast asleep, and you smiled.
“You doing alright?” Six asked. When you turned back to look at him, you saw him already looking at you, which caused your breath to hitch in your throat.
You nodded while staring into his clear blue eyes. “Yeah, I’m doing fine. A little worried about Claire, sure, but I know she’ll be okay. She’s a whole lot tougher than me and maybe even tougher than you,” you joked.
He smiled back at you, and you mentally pat yourself on your back. “Oh, definitely. I’m a giant wuss compared to her.”
You giggled softly before letting out a yawn. “You need me to stay up with you, or are you good to keep watch by yourself?” You asked playfully, knowing he doesn’t need any help for the job he does every night.
He confirmed that thought when he shook his head. “I’ll be alright. Get some sleep.”
You nodded. “Goodnight, Six.”
“Goodnight,” he replied just as softly.
You walked into the room to take a seat on the cushioned chair in the corner of the room, and it was only seconds after your head rested against the side that you conked out for the night.
The next day and a half were relatively boring. You sat on Claire’s bed with her, chatting away and watching her get a new high score after you downloaded her favorite app for her on your phone since you had left hers at home before you left. Six watched over the two of you the entire time, making sure only confirmed doctors and nurses came into the room with the three of you. It was only later, the next day, after all three of you were tired of living within the same four walls and ready to go home, that Claire was finally cleared to leave. The three of you practically sprinted to the car and started your journey back to the place you called home.
When you finally parked in the house’s driveway, you helped Claire get out of the car and sat her down at the kitchen table as soon as you entered it. With a mischievous gleam in your eyes, you snuck over to the freezer and pulled out the tub of chocolate ice cream you knew was her favorite. Her eyes lit up once she saw it, and you laughed, getting a bowl and serving two scoops of ice cream into it. Placing it down in front of her, you messed with her hair before kissing the crown of her head. You gestured with your hand to Six, asking if he wanted any ice cream, to which he shook his head at. You nodded, flashing him a smile and walking over to wash the ice cream scooper.
“You feeling better?” Six asked the young girl as she scooped the ice cream into her mouth. You listened to the conversation over the sound of the rushing water from the sink.
She shrugged. “Just another Thursday.” Six nodded before Claire continued with a happier sigh, leaving her chest. “Donald says this is the best medicine. Ice cream? I tend to agree.”
“He’s a very smart man,” Six agreed with a quirk of his lips. You smiled at the interaction.
“Only family I got,” Claire told him, her smile falling from her lips and being replaced by a slightly more somber look.
“Closest thing to family I got too.”
The 11-year-old rested her head on her hand as she looked over at Six with a thoughtful expression. “Maybe that kind of makes us family.”
You finished up your dishes and watched as Six looked over at her with a soft look on his face before shooting her a small, quick smile.
Claire yawned, and within a heartbeat, Six said, “You should go to bed.”
You dried your hands as he did, walking over to place your hands on the girl’s shoulders and guide her out of the chair. “Alright, Claire Bear. You heard the mathematician. Off to bed you go.”
“Night, Robot,” Claire told Six as the two of you walked away.
“Good night, Claire,” he said to her in response.
You winked at him. “Goodnight, Mr. Mathematician.”
He nodded your way with a somewhat forced smile as you walked away. You noticed the furrowedness of his eyebrows, though you ignored the way it made you nervous.
“You want to take a bath before you go to sleep? Rinse off the hospital smell?” You asked Claire while walking to her bedroom.
She scoffed. “Is this your way of telling me I stink?”
“What? No! That would be crazy,” you told her as you plugged your nose playfully and fanned your hand in front of your face.
She laughed just as you got to the bedroom door and entered it. “Can I play a record?
“Okay, fine. You can only play them until your bath is done, though, okay? You’ve had a long past few days, and I don’t want you to stay up for any longer than you need to. I’ll go start the bath while you start that up.”
A few minutes later, she was sitting in the tub, scrubbing herself clean while you tidied things up around her room, listening to ‘Silver Bird’ reverberate throughout the room. When she called out for you, you walked over to the door, still allowing her to have her privacy as you asked what was wrong.
“I just ran out of conditioner. Could you get some from under the sink in Donald’s room?” She pleaded. You stuck your thumb up from around the corned, smiling when she giggled.
“You got it, Claire Bear.”
“I think I’m getting too old for that nickname, you know?”
“You’ll never outgrow being my Claire Bear,” you refuted, sticking your thumb down around the corner and hearing her laugh again.
“Okay, whatever. Go get me that conditioner, peasant.”
You scoffed playfully at her demanding (yet also playful) tone before walking out of her bedroom and heading in the direction of Donald’s room. Just as you were about to pass by the kitchen, you noticed Six wasn’t in his normal spot. You were a bit confused, so you called out his name, only to have a gloved hand place a knife up against your throat and another stick a gun out in front of you to whoever may be in the house (AKA Six).
“Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to be quiet, and you’re going to lead me to where the girl is, and maybe I won’t kill you.”
You grit your teeth, finding courage to speak up despite the fear coursing through your bones. “Here’s what’s actually going to happen. You’re going to go to hell and I’m going to stomp on your grave, you piece of shit.”
You heard him angrily curse you out and you prepared yourself for the worst as you felt the knife dig into your skin more, cutting it just enough for a drop of blood to start trailing down your neck, when he was suddenly yanked away from you, dropping the knife to the floor with a clatter and incidentally shoving your forward where you tumbled into the tall, brick pillars in the house. Your forehead scraped against it as you tried to cushion your fall with your hands, only to be a bit too late. You quickly spun yourself around, getting vertigo in the process, and looked only to avert your gaze from the violent scene in front of you. Your eyes were clenched tightly, and you only noticed the fight was over when a careful, gentle hand placed itself upon your cheek. Instinctively, you swung your hand out to hit him square in the face. Thankfully, for his safety and your sanity, he caught your fist mid-air and placed it on his chest over his heart. He stood with you for a few minutes, letting you follow his breathing as you attempted to regulate your anxious breaths and get your heart rate back to normal.
When you finally calmed down enough to take a deep breath without it stuttering in your lungs, you leaned your head against his chest and wrapped your arms around his waist without thinking. After a moment or two of his body remaining still and not returning your affection, you quickly backed away and apologized. “Shit. I’m sorry I shouldn’t have done tha-”
You were cut off when he grabbed onto your arms and pulled you back into his chest, leaving no room between the two of you. He leaned his cheek against the crown of your head as he held you tightly. “Don’t apologize, you’ve done nothing wrong.” After a moment, he gently separated you from him and took a look at you, finally fully assessing the damage over your forehead and neck. “We should get this cleaned up. Is your head hurting at all?”
“Well, my forehead kind of stings, but I don’t have a headache or anything like that, so most likely no concussion.”
He nodded. “Good. Go sit at the table, I’ll bring over the first aid kit.”
Before you could even protest or ask if he even knew where the kit was, he was already walking away. You sighed and sat down at the table as you were told to do. Seconds later, he returned with a washcloth and the first aid kit in hand. You watched him move in silence as he prepared to clean you up. When he brought the washcloth doused in rubbing alcohol up to your head, you barely even felt the sting as his eyes captured yours. Even in the dim lighting of the kitchen, they were still the brightest and most mesmerizing things you’d ever seen.
“Does that hurt?” He asked, his voice soft and careful as his eyes flickered between the cut above your brow and your eyes.
You lightly shook your head. “No.”
He cracked a smile as he quipped. “Joining the tough gang, huh? Welcome to the club.”
You exhaled through your nose in amusement just as your eyes started to feel heavy. The adrenaline from the night had started to wear off, and you could feel the ache in your bones weigh down on you. “I guess I have,” you spoke through a yawn. He snorted but said nothing else as he finished with the cut on your brow and moved on to the cut on your throat. You knew you were probably in shock, but you expected to be a little more scared and shaken up after having nearly been killed. All you really felt was tired.
Just as he finished putting the bandages over your cuts, Claire walked out of her room with her pajamas on and her hair still wet. “Did you forget you were supposed to bring me some conditioner? What took you so lon-”
Her words got cut off by her own finding as she saw the two shoes belonging to a stranger peeking out from around a corner. When she looked over at you and Six sitting at the table, you both stood up immediately.
“Is everything okay?” She asked hesitantly, looking specifically at you since you seemed the most beat up out of the two of you.
“Yeah,” Six answered in your stead. “Broke a bowl.”
“Yeah, and I just accidentally cut myself while… shaving…?”
Claire, obviously, did not look convinced. “You sure you’re alright?” Her eyes flashed back and forth between you, Six, and the body lying on the floor.
“Yeah. Just another Thursday,” Six threw her words from earlier back at her, and she hesitantly nodded. “You should go to bed. Goodnight.” She lingered hesitantly, and it was only when you passed by Six, placing a grateful hand on his shoulder in a silent way of saying thanks, and walked over to her to lead her back to her room, that she let it go and went back to bed.
Things changed for you and Six after that night. Before, even if he was slowly becoming more comfortable with occasionally touching you, he tried not to do it that much. It was only now that he seemed to find excuses to touch you.
Having trouble getting a glass off the tall shelf (that you were secretly pretty sure he moved so he could do this exact thing)? He was already standing behind you with one hand on your waist and the other reaching above you to grab the glass for you.
Handing him a coffee in the morning so he would have an easier time staying awake after staying up all night watching the cameras? His fingers were slowly brushing against yours as he grabbed it from you.
Have an eyelash on your cheek? Six was already closing in on you and taking it off, holding it out for you on his thumb while he waited for you to make a wish.
Things were beginning to get so good, and your feelings were growing more and more each day until you felt like you would burst at the seams with affection for this man who stole your heart in less than two months.
And you decided too late to tell him.
2 days after you finally admitted to yourself you were in love with him and planned on confessing, your uncle came back home. You were ecstatic to see him, of course, but seeing him also meant that Six would be leaving, and that was something that broke your heart.
When your uncle walked through the door with little bits and bobbles from his trip that he decided to bring back home with him, you didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry. Not even when Six went up to him and shook his hand, patting him on the shoulder and using government terminology you definitely hadn’t heard before, even in your time spent around your uncle and his subordinates.
When Six grabbed the camping bag he’d brought with him for the trip that was already packed (he never unpacked it in the first place), you knew it would be a goodbye you would hear from him next.
He stopped in front of Claire first, kneeling down in front of her and holding his hand out for her to clap before they both snapped, their own mini handshake. “See you around, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid, I’m currently taller than you,” she joked with a bittersweet lilt in her voice.
Six gave his signature amused quirk of the lips before standing back up to his full height and walking over to you. “Hey,” he said softly.
“Hi,” you said with the same tone.
“I don’t know if I’ll see you again, so take care of yourself, will you? Claire can’t have her favorite nurse getting sick, now, can she?”
You let out a sad laugh. “Yeah, guess not. You try and do the same, won’t you? I can’t have my favorite mathematician dying, now, can I?” You joked in the same way, though yours was much more real and much more serious than his.
He just nodded, not saying anything, so he wasn’t making any promises he might not be able to keep. With a hand giving your arm a long, gentle squeeze that conveyed more than just a goodbye, he turned around and disappeared into the black SUV, out of the driveway, and out of your life forever.
Court is the immovable object, Colt the unstoppable force, and Ryland bottles them up and lets them clash.
Engineer, Pilot and Scientist.
(Did you see Court fashioning that bomb out of shoelaces and gum in that well? Did you see Colt fly those cars? Did you see Ryland poking that first-ever-human-extraterrestrial-contact astrophage to death with a stick?)
I'm going home and rewatching The Fall Guy. I have the perfect idea for a fic I just need to write it, and I'll write it in my notes if I must. I also need to watch Grey Man though for the fic to work... but-
Anyone want some Feral Ryland?
It may become a series tbh, just of five Feral Ryland Moments + The one time he couldn't be Feral.
Pls suggest some ships for the shenanigans as I want to make people kiss
