tyler and boone are very janie by ethel cain about each other. i know she’s your girl now, but she was my girl first! they are blood brothers in every way that matters
i could try to do an in-depth analysis as to why javi asks kate "do you ever wonder why it was us that made it out?" but honestly i just think it was an insane hail mary that sorta worked
Summary: What begins as a normal day in the field for Tyler and Kate soon becomes a desperate scramble for survival. And though they may have weathered the storm, its toll is immeasurable. Now left with a broken leg and a broken heart, Kate is forced to grapple with a secret that could change everything. Il Continuation piece to "I'm Something (To Believe)" Rated M. Kate x Tyler. Angst, Injury (non-graphic), Hurt/Comfort.
Chapter 13
The sun rose begrudgingly the following morning; slow to cast out the shallow pools and puddles of last night's rain. Once it finally conquered the low skirt of dawn clouds, it slung yellows and golds across the sky, humid and bright and everything that yesterday had not been. It made a sheen of sweat rise over Kate's skin as she slipped from the house and into the barn. Heat had still seeped inside from between the gaps in the wooden slats, but it was cooler—much cooler—than outside.
Truthfully, she wasn't even sure what had drawn her there to begin with. Sure, she needed to catch up on documents and reports, but she knew better than to think she could get herself to focus. She flicked through the documents idly, but her thoughts were swirling. Whatever she was thinking about wasn’t written on that paper.
When Javi entered the barn, he found Kate hunched over the worktable, file folder in one hand.
"Hey," he called to her back, "you’re here early."
She threw a look over her shoulder like a grenade before returning to her paperwork.
"It's nice seeing you in here, I know the directors are gonna love seeing it too."
The folders slapped against the table as she threw them down.
"Can you please cut the shit?" Kate bit, turning towards him. "Just tell me that I screwed up or that I shouldn't have done what I did, or whatever. But if there's something you want to say, just say it, okay?"
summary: after worrying that scott has hated you for the past year, an overheard conversation confirms your fears... or does it? based on this ask
warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, unspecified age gap (reader is mentioned to be younger than javi and referred to as 'kid'/'kiddo' by him, but in a familial way), power imbalance briefly mentioned, reader is insecure and can't communicate, scott is a dumbass and can't communicate, idiots in love?, almost exclusively dialogue oops (sorry if i missed any!)
word count: 6.9k
a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long!! turns out writing a sweetheart reader is much harder for me than i thought lmao but i had a lot of fun with this! she gets a little sassy, but she's just overwhelmed!!
divider credits to @saradika-graphics
You’re not one to dwell on the negatives of anything.
Normally, you can keep your head held high, focus on the positives, and get through life with a wide smile on your face.
But Scott Miller has been testing your patience for the past year.
You know why he doesn’t like you. You know he thinks your position on the team is simply a product of nepotism given you’re Javi’s cousin–and you’re the first to admit that he’s kind of right.
But you also know that, family or not, you wouldn’t be here if you weren’t good at what you do.
Which is why, usually, you can ignore his quips and the way he introduces you to every new person you meet as the ‘nepo baby’ of the team.
It doesn’t hurt that he’s ridiculously gorgeous, but that is not the point.
This morning, as usual, you’re first in the parking lot–radar and satellite images already pulled up on your tablet.
And, again, as usual, Scott is the second person out of his room.
“Morning!” You greet with a wide smile as he approaches, typical aviator sunglasses and baseball cap on.
He grunts in response, same as every morning.
And, like every day before today, you bite your tongue and wait for the others to join you.
…And maybe take the time to admire his jawline that you’re a little convinced he only chews gum so frequently to show off. So, really, it would be rude not to appreciate it.
At the sound of more motel doors closing, you snap your eyes back to your tablet, rocking back and forth on the heels of your shoes. As you drag around the radar imagery to appear busy and not like you were just practically drooling over your boss, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you into a side hug.
“Morning, kiddo,” Javi greets, patting your shoulder twice before releasing you as more of the team starts to gather around.
You hum, angling your tablet toward him. “There are some good cells out west, like we called. As long as we leave in the next 20 minutes, we should be right on time.”
“You heard her, folks!” Javi announces, clapping his hands together once.
“Uh, hold on,” Scott interjects, effectively halting everyone’s movements and sending your stomach straight to your ass. He pulls up the radar on his tablet, dragging his finger across the screen before turning it towards the group. “What about this cell to the south? It looks just as good–if not better–than the ones to the west. Since when do we go based on one person’s assessment and not a discussion?” He tilts his head, tone laced with a condescending edge.
You freeze, feeling heat spread through your body like wildfire.
No matter how many times Scott challenges your calls, it never gets any less mortifying.
You open and close your mouth a couple times before Javi spares you any further embarrassment by cutting in smoothly.
“I looked at the south cell right before coming out.” He shrugs casually, not at all fazed by Scott’s confidence or patronizing tone. “It does seem strong, but it doesn’t look better to me. I was gonna suggest going west either way.” He steps closer to Scott, peering down at the tablet still in the taller man’s hands. “If you think it does, though, we can talk about it! We have time.”
You watch as Scott’s jaw works, like he’s making his response more palatable. He stares at the screen for another long moment. “No.” He clears his throat. “West is fine.”
“Sick,” Javi says with a grin, clapping him on the shoulder before shooing everyone. “I wanna be on the road in 15, so get to it!”
You turn on your heel immediately, making your way to Wizard to help make sure all of the equipment is functioning properly.
“That seemed more tense than usual,” Kate murmurs as she helps you get to work turning on the large monitors in the back of the van.
“Yup,” you say as evenly as possible, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe he’s just stressed. We have had a few failed chases recently.”
Peter snorts quietly from where he’s booting up the rest of the equipment next to you before quickly clearing his throat, pretending not to be listening to your conversation.
“You always try to find an excuse when he’s being an ass,” Kate sighs.
“He has his reasons.”
“Does he?” She asks, popping a hip and resting a hand on it, looking at you.
“Most people aren’t assholes for no reason.”
“Key word, most.”
“It’s fine, Kate, really,” you say, turning to face her after turning on the last screen. “I know he doesn’t like me, and I’m sure that, to him, his reasons are completely justified. I can’t make him like me.”
Kate frowns.
“That’s incredibly mature of you.”
You shrug, shooting her a toothy grin. “Thank you. Do you need help getting Lion ready?”
She shakes her head with a soft smile, but there’s a knowing look in her eyes. “You are too nice for your own good, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.”
- - - -
“Are you getting anything?” Javi asks as you follow the rest of the team into the packed bar, celebrating a very successful chase. “I’ll just order for both of us, you can go grab a table.”
“Oh– thanks! Um…” You glance around to search for an open table, eyes locking onto one before leaning closer to Javi so he can hear you over the thumping music. “A vodka cran, please!”
He gives you a thumbs up and starts to weave through the crowd towards the bar behind the rest of your teammates while you split off to make a beeline for the free table, managing to snag it just before another group appears.
“Oh!” You wince before shooting them an apologetic smile. “Sorry–”
The guy closest to you just scoffs and rolls his eyes before stalking off with his friends trailing behind him. Your smile falters as they walk away, eyebrows drawing close together.
Was that rude of you?
You’re not the only group searching for a table, obviously. And it’s not like you were specifically trying to take it from them…
No, you remind yourself. They were probably just annoyed that they didn’t get here first. It wasn’t personal.
You slide into a tall chair at the end of the table, fingers tapping restlessly against the sticky wood while you wait for the others to come back once they have their drinks. The few minutes it takes feel like forever, and you let out a relieved breath you didn’t know you were holding when Javi sits down next to you with a loud sigh.
He slides you your drink, and you lean forward to take a long sip, avoiding his narrowed eyes that are raking over your face.
“What happened?”
“Hm?” You sit up straighter, meeting his gaze. “Nothing.”
“You look upset.”
You wave him off. “No, some guy was just upset that I got to the table first. It was nothing.”
Javi hums, clearly unconvinced. “Did he say something?”
You shake your head quickly. “No, he just walked away. Really, it was nothing, I just wasn’t sure if I was rude or something.”
His brows furrow. “You don’t have a rude bone in your body.”
Scott plops down in the seat across from you then, quickly followed by the others claiming their own seats and finding spots to stand at the table.
“It’s almost annoying,” Scott comments dryly, taking a swig of his beer.
You frown, which Javi catches immediately. “He’s kidding,” he says, shooting Scott a look.
Scott just shrugs one shoulder before angling himself to speak to Andy, who’s standing behind him.
It takes a few more sips of your drink for the tension in your shoulders to start to drain, but soon enough you’re back to your usual smiley self, listening intently to the conversations around you.
When Javi gets up to use the bathroom, Kate swoops in almost immediately to take his spot. You get engrossed in talking with her, barely noticing when Javi comes back and simply stands behind the chair she stole to continue his conversation with Peter.
During a lapse in the conversation, you let your eyes roam over the other patrons–only allowing your gaze to linger on Scott’s side profile for a couple seconds before continuing your sweep.
When you spot the Wranglers at a table across the bar, you elbow Kate’s side gently. “Tyler’s here.”
She snaps her head to follow your gaze, the movement making you turn toward her with your eyebrows raised. Her cheeks are flushed now, and you grin.
“I knew it!” You whisper.
She smacks your arm. “Shut up!”
“You are so painfully obvious,” you chuckle, earning yourself another smack, which just makes you laugh harder. “Wanna go say hi?”
She hesitates for a second before schooling her expression and rolling her shoulders back. “Sure,” she says casually with a shrug.
You roll your eyes playfully as you both stand, quickly finishing the last couple sips of your drink.
“Where are you guys going?” Javi asks.
“The Wranglers are here.” You point them out. “Just gonna go say hi.”
“Oh, good,” Scott mutters sarcastically. “Can’t do anything without them showing up.”
You frown again. “You didn’t even know they were here. They’re not bothering you.”
“They’re everywhere. Whatever, go say hi to your boyfriends,” he says, waving you off.
You just stare at him for a moment, but decide pretty quickly that you have nothing nice to say to that. Thankfully, Kate’s grabbing your hand and gently pulling you behind her toward the Wranglers’ table before you have to figure out how to walk away without making it more awkward.
You’re both greeted warmly by Tyler and his team, and you feel more at ease almost instantly. Despite having limited interactions with them, they’ve always been nice.
It’s a nice change of pace.
The conversation flows easily, and you’re genuinely surprised–but not at all upset–when Dani and Lily are creating a group chat with you and Kate.
This job can be more lonely than people think, and while you’re eternally grateful to have Kate, it’s always nice to have more friends.
When you both return to your team, you’re feeling significantly better–accepting Scott’s comments as his usual irritation with Tyler and his crew versus irritation with you or Kate.
But the wide smile on your face falters ever so slightly and you stop hearing what Kate’s saying when you notice a girl leaning in too closely to Scott, giggling excessively–
No. That’s mean. She’s pretty, and he’s clearly interested as well, and that’s okay.
You turn back to Kate, blinking once. “Sorry, what?”
She studies you for a beat, eyes flicking briefly to Scott before repeating herself.
You spend the next 20 minutes forcing yourself to engage in the rapidly changing topics of conversation with some of your teammates, but your focus gets pulled entirely when Scott’s chair scrapes as he stands. You watch as he walks toward the door, the girl pressed against his side, and feel your stomach drop when they leave together.
This is fine.
You’re fine.
It’s not like you’re in love with him or anything–you just find him attractive and it’s natural to be a little disappointed when someone you find attractive shows interest in someone else.
That’s all this is.
That’s what you tell yourself while you lie in bed later that night, repeating it until sleep finally pulls you under.
- - - -
When you exit your room in the morning, your steps falter for a second when you spot Javi and Scott already in the parking lot, backs turned to you as they lean against Lion’s bed.
Weird.
You keep your steps quiet as you head over to get Wizard ready–not wanting to disturb their conversation.
But you regret that almost immediately when you catch snippets of Scott’s ranting.
“...annoying. It’s like she’s trying to win me over–change my mind, or something.”
You freeze halfway to the van, your stomach twisting in knots.
He called your kindness annoying just last night.
…Is he talking about you?
Is that what he thinks you’ve been doing? Trying to win him over?
Is that what you’ve been doing?
“...tell her that.”
Javi’s voice is so casual that you feel a small sense of betrayal.
Surely he doesn’t think that’s what you’ve been doing too, right?
No.
No, you can’t keep listening. It’s rude.
So you slide open the side door to the van with a bit more force than necessary, making sure it’s loud enough for them to hear.
At the whoosh, both of their heads snap toward you.
Javi immediately pushes off the truck and approaches you with a smile. “Hey, kid! Didn’t hear you come out.”
You shoot him a tight smile before turning back to the monitors. Your fingers fumble with the button on the first one, and you have to try again to successfully turn it on.
He watches you move through the cargo space with a frown on his face.
“You okay?”
“Yes.” You close your eyes briefly. “Yup,” you correct more cheerfully, though it sounds flat even to you.
“...You sure?”
“I just didn’t sleep well.” You shrug, moving stiffly to the next screen.
It’s not technically a lie.
“I’ve literally known you your entire life–you can’t lie to me.”
“Javi.” Your voice comes out smaller than you mean it to when you still, squeezing your eyes shut again, staying turned away from him. “Please.”
The silence after stretches. Long enough that you almost force yourself to look at him–make sure he’s still there.
“Okay,” he nearly whispers. “Sorry.”
You keep your eyes shut tightly, swallowing hard.
“Thank you.”
He leaves after that, and you finally feel like you can breathe.
- - - -
Three days.
That’s how long you manage to fool everyone–even Kate and Javi–before you’re cornered.
It happens after a chase.
One where nobody could get their positioning right because the tornado kept shifting, leading to an entire day wasted.
So it’s safe to say you’re all a little on edge.
You don’t go up to your room right away–feeling too restless. So you decide to sit at the small table set up in the back of the van to work on the report that the rest of the team has decided to put off until tomorrow.
“Your measurements are off,” a familiar gruff voice says lowly, startling you.
“Jesus christ,” you whip around with a hand on your chest to see Scott leaning against the door you’d left open for airflow. “You scared me.”
He just stares at you. Waiting.
You blink.
“Your measurements are off,” he repeats, climbing in beside you.
You scoot over awkwardly, trying to make space for the giant of a man.
“Where are they off?”
He rolls his eyes.
As if your lack of argument is annoying to him.
A small, slightly evil part of you thinks good.
He points a finger at the value you’d typed out for the distance between Scarecrow and the tornado. “That’s not how far I was.”
You huff a little, deleting the number. “That was a typo,” you mutter, correcting it.
“Sure it was.”
“Anything else I can help you with?” You ask, spinning to face him. Your hands are clasped tightly in your lap as you stare at him expectantly.
His eyes narrow briefly before his lips slowly curl into a small smirk.
“Someone’s grumpy.”
“I’m not grumpy.”
“You’re absolutely grumpy.”
“Maybe I’m just done trying to win you over.” The words slip out before you can stop them. Your eyes widen, and you slap a hand over your mouth.
His smirk fades, replaced by genuine confusion.
“I’m sorry,” you rush out. “I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop, I just heard you and Javi–”
“Wait–you heard me and Javi?”
You nod. “Out by the truck. After the bar. I didn’t– that’s not what I’ve been trying–”
His eyebrows press even closer together. “Hold on,” he interrupts. He stares at you for a moment, like he’s replaying the past three days in his head. Understanding washes over his face. “That wasn’t about you.”
All you can do is blink at him.
“That… what?”
Now you’re confused.
“I was talking about Amy.”
“Who the fuck is Amy?”
Scott snorts–thoroughly amused by the swear you let slip.
“The girl from the bar,” he explains with a small chuckle.
“What could you have possibly been talking about?”
He sighs. “I told her I didn’t want anything serious, she agreed, then suddenly she was trying to, like, ask me on a date.”
Ouch. Ignoring that punch to the gut for a bit.
“Wait.” He sits up straighter. “What did you think I meant?”
“I thought you were talking about me!” You exclaim, gesturing with your hands.
“Why would I be talking about you?”
“I don’t know!” You put your head in your hands, closing your eyes. “I thought you were annoyed because you thought I was just being nice to try to win you over, or something.”
“I mean, I think you’re annoying, but not because you’re trying to win me over,” he says dryly.
You whip your head up, eyes wide. “Scott!”
He laughs–a real laugh. “I’m kidding.” He takes a second to let his laughter die down, then shifts uncomfortably. “...Why did it bother you so much?”
And there’s the question you were hoping to avoid.
You look down at your hands in your lap, feeling your cheeks warm.
Because you can’t come up with an answer that doesn’t sound like a poorly hidden version of ‘I’ve had a crush on you since the day I met you, and your validation means more than I let myself admit.’
He watches you carefully, the teasing gone from his face. “Would it really have upset you that much if I were talking about you?”
“Well–” you cut yourself off, debating for a second just how honest to be. “I mean… yeah, a little.”
“Why?”
You’re taken aback by the genuine bafflement in his expression.
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why do you care so much what I think?”
You look at him like he’s grown a second head. “Because it sucks thinking that someone you’ve worked with for a year doesn’t like you.”
“But I never said I didn’t like you–well, her, in this case.”
“No, you just said that my entire personality is annoying.”
“I didn’t say that, though.”
“But I thought you did.”
“Right…” He nods once, lips rolled in. “Well… for what it’s worth, I don’t not like you.”
“But you don’t like me,” you supply.
“I didn’t say that, either.”
That makes you pause.
“...You’ve been pretty obvious with how you act,” you say quietly, stomach twisting as you finally say what’s been secretly, sneakily eating you alive for the past year.
“What do you mean, how I act?” There’s a hint of defensiveness creeping into his tone that makes you bristle.
“I just mean the constant correcting in front of the entire team, introducing me as the ‘nepo baby,’ ignoring my greetings.”
“I do that with everybody,” he tacks your name onto the end, and you almost choke.
He almost never uses your name, and certainly not in the tone he just did.
Because this wasn’t angry.
It wasn’t commanding.
It was almost… soft?
“You don’t call everybody the ‘nepo baby,’” you deadpan once your lungs figure out how to work again.
“Well, that’s because you’re the only nepotism hire.”
“Scott,” you sigh, exasperated.
“You are!”
“Okay.” You stand, brushing off imaginary dirt from your jeans. “I’m glad we cleared that up, but I don’t think this is going anywhere anymore.”
He stands quickly, almost slamming his head into the roof of the van, ducking at the last second. “Wait– what?”
“Jesus,” you breathe out, taking a step back from his slightly hunched form. “I’m trying to tell you why I was upset, and you’re arguing semantics.”
He huffs. “I’m not arguing semantics–”
“That is, quite literally, exactly what you’re doing. Like, right now.”
“I–” He cuts himself off, brows furrowed as he mentally replays the conversation. “Okay… yeah, maybe a little.”
“Thank you,” you sigh. “Look, if you do think my kindness is annoying, or whatever, that’s fine. But I would prefer knowing that right now instead of walking away from this conversation thinking we’re like… fine with each other.”
He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, thinking intently before finally speaking. “I don’t think your kindness is annoying. I did–when you first started. Mostly because, yeah, I didn’t think you’d actually bring anything to the team.” At your frown, he rolls his eyes. “Javi brought in his younger cousin without an interview. What did you expect me to think?”
“...Fair enough.” You gesture for him to continue.
“But, unfortunately, you’ve proven that you know what you’re doing.”
“Unfortunately?” You repeat incredulously.
“I’m kidding. Jesus, lighten up.”
You narrow your eyes at him. “That doesn’t explain why you’ve continued to treat me like that. I thought you hated me.”
He shrugs. “I wasn’t intentionally being an ass.”
You look at him, unimpressed.
“That’s just how I am!” He throws his arms up in exasperation.
You point at him. “Except that’s not true. Because you treat Kate just fine now, and I heard you started out with pretty much the same assumptions about her.”
“Can we do this outside?” He brings a hand up to the back of his neck, wincing. “This stupid ass van is too short.”
“Oh– yes, yeah.” You scramble out of the van, waiting for him to follow.
“I still challenge her decisions if I disagree with them,” he argues as he stretches his back outside.
“But you challenge her in a way that feels professional. You challenge me in a way that feels personal. That’s the difference.”
“I think you’re the only person that thinks that.”
You cross your arms over your chest. “Kate herself agrees with me.”
He pauses, frowning. “...She said that?”
You nod. “More than once, actually.”
“Oh…” He exhales. “What did she say?”
You shrug, looking down at your feet as you scuff the toe of your boot against the pavement. “That your problem with me feels deeper than it ever did with her.”
He hums.
And for what feels like an hour, you both stand in silence, save for the sound of the crickets and birds as the sun gets lower.
“Well… I didn’t mean to make you think I hated you.”
You sigh, looking up at the sky.
“But that doesn’t change the fact that I’ve felt out of place the entire time I’ve been here.”
You’re not even trying to argue.
You’re just tired.
When you look back at him, his face is doing something complicated.
He looks a little guilty, a lot confused.
“Well, I’m… sorry… that I did that.”
He winces as he fumbles his way through the apology, and it’s, unfortunately, a little endearing.
Because now you know he didn’t have any malicious intent–not that you thought he wanted to hurt your feelings this whole time.
But it certainly makes you feel better knowing that most of this has been a miscommunication.
“Thank you.” You give him a small smile. “I appreciate that.”
He looks shocked that you accepted his, honestly, pretty bad apology. But he gives what appears to be his best attempt at a genuine smile of his own.
“So are we, like… good now?”
You roll your eyes, but there’s no real irritation behind it. “I’ve tried to be good for the past year.”
He grimaces. “My bad.”
You nod once, sharply. “Yes. Your bad.”
The corner of his mouth quirks up, and he raises his eyebrows. “Oh, you think you’re funny.”
“Oh, I know I’m funny. You’d have known that earlier, if you were–”
He sighs loudly, interrupting you. “Weren’t a dick, yeah, I got it,” he finishes with a chuckle.
You stand in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a moment before you realize you should probably get ready for bed.
“Goodnight, Scott,” you say lightly with a nod, turning around, trying to bite back your smile.
“‘Night,” he calls after you, shaking his head with his own suppressed grin.
- - - -
You wake up feeling lighter than you have in days.
Which is immediately noticed by Javi and Kate.
“You look happy,” Kate comments, and she and Javi sit in the seats across from you at the diner where you’re waiting for everyone else.
You nod, sipping your coffee. “Talked through things with Scott.”
She tilts her head. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, there was just a misunderstanding,” you explain as you set down your cup, glancing down at the menu. “But we cleared it up!”
“What kind of misunderstanding?” Javi asks.
You explain what happened–overhearing their conversation about Amy, assuming it was about you, trying not to let it bother you–while still scanning through the menu.
When neither of them say anything for a long moment after you’re done, you look up.
Kate looks confused.
Javi looks almost devastated.
“You thought I’d let Scott bitch about you to me? And respond like that?”
Your eyes widen, and you drop the menu, shaking your head.
“No! No– that’s why I was so upset! Because I knew you wouldn’t do that.”
“You didn’t think to ask?”
You frown. “...No.”
“So you just suffered?” Kate asks, an incredulous edge to her tone.
“I didn’t suffer.”
“You walked around like a kicked puppy for three days,” she points out, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
“...Okay, maybe I suffered a little. But I didn’t want to make it worse!”
Javi sighs deeply. “You’re the dumbest smart person I’ve ever met.”
“Hey!”
Kate points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t ‘hey’ him, he’s right.”
You pout.
“What’s Javi right about?” Scott asks, sliding into the seat next to you as Peter takes the seat next to Kate.
Your heart rate picks up, which you pointedly ignore.
“Nothing.”
“She’s terrible with her emotions,” Javi supplies.
“I am not!”
“Oh, no, you are,” Scott agrees with a nod.
“And you’re any better?” You shoot back with a playful tilt of your head.
“Ooh, she’s feisty this morning,” Scott teases.
You cross your arms over your chest with a frown. “I’m not feisty.”
He pinches his thumb and pointer finger together, keeping them just a small distance apart, holding his hand up. “Little bit,” he muses in a slightly higher-pitched voice than usual.
You huff and glare at him, but it’s weak. He just responds with a wide, smug grin before addressing everyone now that the rest of the team’s arrived–immediately launching into logistics for today’s chase.
And, for once, you just take it in.
Because this is finally starting to feel right.
- - - -
The shift in your relationship with Scott doesn’t register right away.
Mostly because it doesn’t happen right away.
It starts with the teasing.
Then, over the next couple of weeks, it turns into him asking for your opinion on chase routes and data interpretation.
A week later, he’s offering to let you ride in Scarecrow with him and Andy for a chase.
Then he’s sending Andy to take your place in Wizard for the day and offering you the passenger seat with just him.
It’s not hard to read into it a little bit. You’re not completely devoid of emotions–of course your very attractive boss who’s finally trusting your professional judgement and talking to you normally is going to make you giggle and kick your feet a bit.
But you’re also not insane enough to think he might feel anything for you past professional appreciation.
…Kate apparently is, though.
“You know he likes you, right?” She asks as you both settle into your beds the night after the chase where it was just you and Scott in Scarecrow.
You shrug, turning off the lamp next to your bed, plunging the room into darkness.
“I mean, I know he trusts me now, yeah.”
“Not what I’m saying.”
You roll onto your side, facing her. “Then what are you saying?”
Even in the low streetlamp lighting streaming through the curtains, you can make out her unimpressed expression.
“You know what I’m saying.”
You blink.
Then snort.
“Yeah, okay.”
She sits up in one sharp movement. “I’m serious! And I know you like him!”
“I do not like him.”
“You absolutely like him.”
“I mean, I think he’s attractive–”
“Bitch.”
“Woah!”
“He kicked Andy out of Scarecrow.”
“He– he did not kick him out. He just gave me a chance to get closer to the action. I’m sure he’s offered the same to Peter.”
Kate shakes her head.
“How would you know?” You ask, propping yourself up on an elbow.
“Because I was just talking about it with Javi.”
“Talking about what?”
“Scott! And how he’s…” She trails off, gesturing at you as a whole.
“I don’t like the implication of that.” You narrow your eyes at her.
“Well, I don’t like how oblivious you’re being,” she shoots back.
“I am not being oblivious, I’m being realistic. He tolerates me, he’s not in love with me.”
But even as you say it, you can feel the way your heart rate picks up.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
You roll onto your other side, tucking the blanket tightly under your chin. “Goodnight, Kate.”
“I’m just saying!”
“Goodnight, Kate.”
- - - -
Unfortunately, Kate’s words have gotten in your head.
Even more unfortunately, Scott keeps doing things that make it very hard to keep denying that she may be right.
Including offering to let you ride in Scarecrow for the rest of the week–glaring at Andy when he opened his mouth to question being in Wizard for even longer.
You wince guiltily at that.
But it’s admittedly very nice having four days in a row of one-on-one conversation with Scott that doesn’t end with you making excuses for his behavior.
On day five, though, something feels different.
Not necessarily wrong.
But different.
He’s quieter.
Not in the way you’d grown used to at the start–the one that feels full of awkward tension where you’re just waiting for him to tell you what you’ve done wrong.
This feels like he’s holding something back in a way that makes you nervous for entirely different reasons.
So you wait until you’re on your way to the new motel after the chase–both soaked to the bone from the rain and your hair a tangled mess, but your limbs vibrating with adrenaline.
“Are you okay?”
He freezes, eyebrows drawing close together as he continues staring out at the road. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
You shrug, studying the side of his face. “You’re quiet today.”
He hums, the muscles in his jaw flexing a few times. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
“Amy.”
Oh.
You swallow down the sick feeling climbing up your throat, tilting your head curiously.
“What about her?”
He shrugs one shoulder lazily. “Why I didn’t want anything serious with her.”
You stay silent, waiting for him to elaborate. Because you’re honestly not sure how to respond to that.
“I should’ve,” he continues, almost like he’s talking to himself. “She was my type, we had a good time. I want a relationship–I think. She was the logical choice.”
The more he talks, the more your stomach turns. But you push anyway.
“...Then why didn’t you?”
“Because she wasn’t you.”
He says it so casually you’re certain you misheard him.
“I– sorry, what?”
“Because. She wasn’t you,” he repeats more firmly, finally glancing at you for a second before returning his gaze to the road.
And all you can do is laugh.
That gets you a longer, more incredulous look.
“Why are you laughing?”
“Because I thought you just said you rejected Amy because she wasn’t me.” You laugh even harder at that, nearly to the point of tears.
“That is what I said.” His voice rises slightly in pitch, the incredulous expression morphing into something like concern.
Your laughter dies down slowly as the words sink in.
Because she wasn’t you.
The combination of the revelation, adrenaline, and exhaustion makes you react… poorly.
“You what?” You almost snap.
His eyes widen.
“Or not?” He tries sheepishly.
“No! I– what? For how long?”
“I don’t know!” He rushes out, a twinge of panic in his tone.
“Please elaborate on that!” You practically beg.
“I–” He cuts himself off to take a deep breath, taking one hand off the wheel to set his hat in his lap and run a hand through his hair. “I thought you were attractive day one. But I think I started to actually have, like, feelings right before the Amy thing?”
You throw your arms out. “Scott!” The panic has taken over both of your tones now.
“I know!”
You groan loudly, dropping your head back against the seat.
“I’m getting the feeling that this was not the right thing to say,” he says. “It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way–I wouldn’t blame you. But can you just, like… say that? Instead of yelling at me?”
“I do feel the same way!” You blurt, looking at him like it should be obvious.
“Then what the hell is the problem?”
The glare you shoot him is deadly, by your standards.
“The problem is that I spent the first year thinking you hated my guts, then had to adjust after learning you didn’t anymore, and now I’m finding out you have feelings for me–feelings so big, apparently, that you rejected a woman who you should’ve liked instead! That’s a lot to take in, Scott!”
The silence returns after that–broken only by your ragged breathing after practically exploding.
He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head.
Then, slowly, his eyebrows draw closer together, and the corners of his lips turn down slightly.
“You actually thought I hated you?”
The softness in his voice makes you pause–only for a second.
“Yes! I told you that!”
“I thought you were being dramatic!”
You groan, scrubbing your face with both hands.
“Why would I exaggerate that?”
“I don’t know!” The panicked edge is back.
“Okay.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “Okay. We need to talk about this.”
“I’m trying–”
“Ah–” you cut him off, pointer finger in the air. “No. No more defensiveness. From either of us. We both need to shut up and listen.”
“I–”
“No!”
His frown deepens, but more playfully this time. “You’re bossy.”
“Scott,” you sigh, exasperated.
He fails to hide the growing smirk on his face as he smoothly changes lanes to the right, keeping his blinker on for the upcoming exit.
“We’re still, like, 20 minutes from the motel,” you point out, the end of the sentence pitching up slightly in confusion.
“This is not a conversation I want to have without being able to look at your face.” He takes the exit for a small town you’ve never driven through before. “And I don’t feel like waiting 20 minutes to do that.”
Your cheeks burn at his words. You open and close your mouth a couple times, but can’t formulate a response that doesn’t sound lackluster compared to the significance of what he said, so you stay silent.
It doesn’t take long for him to pull into the empty parking lot of a small park he rerouted the GPS to, and, unfortunately for you, your brain still hasn’t quite caught up to what’s happening.
Because when he unbuckles, turns to you, and very plainly says, “You are the person I want to try a relationship with,” you start laughing again.
“Oh, come on,” he sighs, but there’s amusement in his eyes. “Stop doing that.”
“I can’t help it!”
You keep giggling–all attempts to stop failing–until suddenly both of his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks.
Your mouth snaps shut, and it feels like every system in your body has stopped working.
“This was all I had to do to shut you up?” He teases quietly.
“I barely talked to you for months,” you mumble, the words slurred a little by the pressure on your cheeks.
“I’m aware,” he murmurs, thumbs absentmindedly stroking the apples of your cheeks as he holds eye contact.
“If you want to have a conversation, I need you to stop holding my face.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t think.”
He looks far too pleased with himself–stopping the motion with his thumbs, but not loosening his grip.
“I make you speechless?”
“You also make me nauseous,” you shoot back weakly.
His mouth twists as he finally releases your face. “Ouch.”
“Well, it’s true.” You take a deep breath, regaining your composure, sitting up straighter. “All right, you start.”
“Why do I start?”
“Because you’re the one who made my brain short-circuit when you said you rejected practically the perfect woman for you because she wasn’t me.”
“Calling her the perfect woman for me is a stretch–”
“Scott. Semantics.”
“Right.” He at least has the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry.”
“I just… why me?”
It’s not hesitant or shy like it has been in your head since his revelation.
Because, while you can make an entire list of reasons you’re insecure, right now you just need to know the logic behind his choice.
He, apparently, hears the insecurity anyway and frowns.
“Why not you?”
He says it so…
Simply.
Like he hasn’t questioned it once since realizing.
You blink.
“I… you make it sound so simple,” you breathe out with an attempt at a chuckle.
“It is simple.” It sounds a lot like duh.
“Okay, well, not for me.”
He nods slowly, then scrunches his eyebrows together like he’s trying to figure out the best way to explain it for you.
“I mean, it was kind of weird, at first. Because once you proved that you deserved your spot on the team, I felt very… neutral towards you, I guess.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Crazy, considering I thought you hated me.”
“Yeah, I’m realizing there was a very big difference in how we interpreted that,” he chuckles.
You nod, like no kidding, then motion for him to continue.
“But then I started noticing you more. Not just, like, how you looked, or whatever–though that, too. But the little things. Like how you crack your knuckles one-by-one to give your hands something to do when you’re standing in place for too long. Or how you clear your throat when talking in front of the entire team to give yourself an extra second to calm down first.
“Or–the biggest one–how your kindness is so fucking genuine it’s almost sickening. Because I saw how you’d make excuses for any and everyone–including me–even when you absolutely should’ve gotten mad.”
The more he speaks, the tighter your throat feels.
You feel raw–more exposed than you ever have–and it’s terrifying.
But something about it is so beautiful.
“You noticed all of that?” You manage to choke out.
He shrugs once. “You’re very easy to read.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” He nods once, sharply. “You’re very… expressive.” When you frown, he rushes to elaborate. “Not in a bad way!”
“Sometimes I think I’m too expressive.”
“Not possible,” he reassures, hands slowly coming back up to your face–slow enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.
You don’t.
“You should be more expressive,” you tell him, leaning into his touch almost involuntarily. “Would’ve saved me a lot of confusion.”
“Why do you think I’m spilling my fucking guts right now? ‘M trying to take after you.”
You swallow thickly, letting yourself finally admire his face after only allowing yourself brief glances for the past year.
The freckles that dust the bridge of his nose.
The curls plastered to his forehead from the rain.
The sharpness of his blue eyes that you don’t get to see nearly enough thanks to his insistence on wearing sunglasses.
“Javi might lose his mind,” you whisper finally.
He snorts–because of course your focus is on Javi’s reaction right now.
“I think Javi will be okay,” he says, matching your volume as he leans closer over the center console.
Your breath hitches, and your eyes flick to his lips before quickly returning to meet his.
“Hopefully,” you squeak out.
He huffs out a laugh, grip tightening on your face just enough to ground you.
“...Can I kiss you?” He asks after a moment, not at all shy about his own focus on your lips.
You don’t trust yourself to attempt any words, so all you can do is nod dumbly, forcing yourself to take a shaky breath as he draws closer.
Your eyes flutter shut just before his lips meet yours.
He’s firm, but not rough–sitting still while your brain struggles to catch up.
But when your mouth moves tentatively against his, he returns the movement immediately.
It only lasts a few seconds, but when you pull apart, you’re both breathless.
Not from lack of air.
From overwhelming emotion and pure relief.
His forehead rests against yours as you work to steady yourselves–eyes closed, just feeling for once.
“So…” he starts, not moving. “Do you wanna try a relationship with me, too?”
You can’t help the small chuckle that escapes at his nervous tone.
“Was me kissing you back not enough of an answer?”
“Just wanna make sure,” he mutters, tilting his head so his lips brush against yours as he speaks.
Instead of speaking, you close the distance again.
Summary: What begins as a normal day in the field for Tyler and Kate soon becomes a desperate scramble for survival. And though they may have weathered the storm, its toll is immeasurable. Now left with a broken leg and a broken heart, Kate is forced to grapple with a secret that could change everything. Il Continuation piece to "I'm Something (To Believe)" Rated M. Kate x Tyler. Angst, Injury (non-graphic), Hurt/Comfort.
Chapter 12
"When were you going to tell me about the baby?"
"I wasn't," Kate said simply. The words rang out between them like a gunshot, leaving them both to bleed out in the silence that followed.
Tyler was the first to brave the vast quiet, managing to ask through gritted teeth, "So you were just never going to tell me?"
"I just wanted things to go back to normal."
"Since when is lying and sneaking around normal?"
"We were going to lose the grant!"
Tyler shook his head with a scoff, expression taut. "Do you think the goddamn grant matters to me Kate? Do you really think that matters more than this?"
The thunder in the distance had grown closer, needy and growling from behind the clouds. It made the air around them heavy. It made her chest clench tight. How could she ever get him to understand the war her body had waged against her? That the scars it left behind were deeper than the shimmering pink ribbons on her skin?
When she spoke, her voice had been crushed and compressed into a strained whisper.
"What was I supposed to say, Tyler?"
"Don't put this on me," he bit. Sidestepping the pity she was asking for, his sharp, narrowed eyes fixed on her. A vein at his temple pulsed. "You coulda told me at any time and you didn't. Not a goddamn word. You kept it to yourself for four months. Did you ever think that maybe I would've wanted to help you? To mourn with you?"
"God, Tyler, there was nothing to mourn! I didn't even know until it happened!"
