Work Text:
Another week passed as you hadn't seen Calvin, or Felix, or really anyone. You played the end of the month like you always would have, dumping every last penny you had into your bank account before sending out the rent check. Work engulfed most of your time, the apartment itself seeming so lonely, so desolate. Even so, it had been the way it started off, and you had to accept that it would always be this way.
You still couldn't get the sound of the gun shot out of your head. Though you had known Felix was a bit unstable, Calvin often covering for him in less than logical ways, you had not expected a gun to be pulled on you. You had not expected that you would get so close to falling for someone, either.
Ever since that day that the brothers walked out of your door, you kept the front door locked. Safety was something that you desired, and yet, you felt a hint of fear in every waking hour. The scent Calvin left behind still lingered if you were to focus enough as you lied in your bed, and yet, you felt so mixed up. Your sister had always been the one to fall helpless to the grips of adoration, and yet, you nearly had. Someone who thrived on logic nearly threw caution to the wind over a man over twice your age.
You wanted to cry to your sister, your younger sister, about your wounded heart. You wanted to tell her the whole story, desperately, but the embarrassment left you staring at your sister's caller ID. Realizing you had not had anything to say to her, you put on your music instead. With your phone set down beside you, you lied your head against your wooden table, a few stray tears slipping past your y/e/c eyes silently.
You tried your hardest in the coming weeks to swallow yourself in work. After all, you needed every penny that came in. Those three months off of your rent would have saved you, big time, but instead you had been scraping by. It wasn't a true poverty, the online business covering your expenses for the most part, but everything being handmade took up a great deal of your time. Those times that you had a stretch of free time, or any free time at all, had been the times that you would up with your music on, tears streaking down your face. Your kitchen table had become well acquainted with your tears, a weakness you could not figure out how to beat.
Tragedy befalls tragedy, a truth you had always grown up with. Maybe you had simply been a pessimist, but when fate lined up in such a way to prove it, it simply supported your pessimism. Your music paused, replaced with the general ringtone you had set on your phone.
You hadn’t thought you would fall so hard for the damned man, but you had, and now you were left all alone. It seemed like all that time was for not, though you could not help appreciating that he had at least been true to his word. He hadn’t said anything to you since he left, no question of rent. He hadn’t questioned, nor apologized about how things had left off.
For a moment, you thought to ignore the phone, stuck in your own mind. A few more tears slipped past your y/e/c eyes as you pushed your head off the table, reaching an unenthusiastic hand to grab your cell phone. Your brows knit as you did not recognize the caller ID.
Gently, you brushed the tears from your face, sucking in a deep breath. Assuming that it had been a spam call, you answered the call casually. "Hello?" You questioned, forcing your voice not to waiver.
"Is this Y/N?" The voice questioned, a male's voice who seemed oddly familiar. His voice was something you had heard maybe twice, a clear hesitation in his words. The slightest stutter of a worrisome man fell to silence as you debated what this could possibly be about.
Pursing your lips, you allowed a sigh to escape your nose. With a small pause, you answered it the same way you would with any spam call. "Who is this?" You questioned in return.
"It's uh, it's Mort," he replied, a clear hesitation in his tone as he seemed to be hiding something. "I got your number from Linda."
"I'm flattered, but…" you started, before you were quickly cut off.
"Oh, no, no," he quickly denied, likely waving a hand around on the other line as he spoke. "This is purely a professional call. I mean, I wouldn't be opposed, but…"
"Mort, you're a mortician," you replied, your heart starting to flutter with fear in your chest. "What could you possibly be calling me professionally about?"
"Could you come down to the morgue?" He asked hesitantly. "I think this would be a better conversation in person. I just didn't want you getting a weird impression if I showed up at your apartment, and…"
"I'll be down in five minutes," you cut him off.
Stone cold, you were sure you couldn't breathe. You hadn't gasped for air, or done anything as small as moved an inch since you stood atop your view. The slight purse of your lips and the glaze of your y/e/c eyes, you surely were hard to distinguish between the stiffened corpse.
Numbness spread over your body as your y/e/c eyes trailed from y/h/c locks lightly peppered, to a restful face, paled from time and fermentation. A sour taste settled in your mouth, your senses overwhelmed by the strong smell of formaldehyde. Your heart hadn't raced in your chest since you stepped into the chilled room, settling uncomfortably in your stomach.
"Y/N, I'm so sorry…" Mort started, moving a hand to your elbow as he attempted to console you.
You quickly shrugged his hand off, the first time he had seen you move since you stopped walking. "I need to call my sister," you spoke, your tone merely a monotone as you felt the chill of your own body spreading. "Cremation, after she gets the chance to say goodbye."
"Don't you want to discuss a funeral, or…" he started, only to swallow hard as your gaze shifted to the man.
"No service," you replied. "I'll bring the urn he would have wanted once I can get my sister out here."
"If you need anything…" he started as he watched you begin to walk away. His arm reached out to you, falling short as his lips held a grimace. As a mortician, he dealt with grieving families daily, but your reaction seemed cold in comparison to most of what he had seen.
You stopped in the doorway, not turning back towards the man as you spoke, your tone neither having a rise or fall to it. "I'll call you and schedule a private viewing," you spoke. The bell dinged upon his door, signaling the opening and closing of his door as you walked out of the establishment.
Ring, ring, ring.
You hated calling your sister with bad news. Part of you wished that she had been the one to call you with the news, so you could simply console her. Your heart settled numb in your stomach as you waited for her answer. The wind blew gently through your y/h/c locks though you were sure you could not feel anything at all. Everything was so out of body, as if you were the one lying on the metal slab.
"Y/N?" Your sister questioned as she picked up the phone. You never called her during the day without telling her ahead of time, and the hesitancy in her voice documented this. "Is everything okay?"
"No," you replied coolly. "Have Arthur watch little sunshine, and come back out. I'll wire you gas money if you need it, but Dad's…"
"Oh my god," she spoke through sobs. You had not needed to finish your sentence, your sister probably the only person in the world to know and recall your response to tragedy. Her sobs rung out as she held the phone too closely to her face. "I'll be out tonight."
"I'll schedule for the viewing tomorrow morning," you spoke, before adding in a slightly softer, "Drive safe."
As the phone disconnected, you pursed your lips. Poking your head back into the mortuary, you called out to Mort in a monotone. "Tomorrow morning, Mort," before heading back to your apartment.
You knew you would cry, that the numbness would fade with time. Maybe the smallest part of you wished you could have someone to cry to, someone who would wrap their arms around you and just allow you to cry all those tears, but you could not feel a single one coming. There would be more than enough on your shoulder tonight to make up for your lack.
Hours passed as you waited on your sister's visit, wishing that you could feel just about anything. You sat alone in your apartment, nothing on your screen but the Hamilton fan-made video your family made with your father in it. He had such a small part, Helpless playing as your sister sang as Eliza, her husband as Alexander, but you expected that just maybe it could hit you. The way you coped with death in the beginning was something that, deep down, scared you. Even so, you knew you were prepared to be the rock for your sister.
Knock, knock, knock.
As soon as the door opened, your arms were full. Your sister's hair had been the only blur your eyes caught as you wrapped your arms tightly around her. You could feel her shaking, your shoulder already dampening with the waterfall falling from her eyes. Sobs filled the small staircase, echoing through your apartment as neither of you exchanged pleasantries.
Gently, you stroked your sister's hair as you allowed her to take the both of you down, collapsing to your knees as you held her in your lap. You dared not tell her to hush or move, or even say that everything would be alright. This day had been a long time coming, of course, his health deteriorating over the years. Both of you knew it would happen, and yet, neither of you expected it. As the closer of the two of you, you childishly thought through the years that maybe your father was immortal.
You envied the way she could simply collapse into your arms, crying her heart out onto your sleeve. It was shameful, envying the way your sweet sister grieved, but you couldn't help it. She could feel something right away, collapse and heal. You...knew it would hit you in the future.
"I'm sorry, Y/N," she sobbed into your shoulder, shaking. "I'm so sorry." Her sobs shook your entire body, your door still wide open as the two of you sat on the ground together. "I love you so much."
"Take all the time you need," you replied to her softly, trying to hold some sort of emotion in your words as you stroked her hair softly in comfort. "I love you, too." You held her tighter to you, allowing her to let everything out. There was no way by the end of the night her tears would be dry, but you knew you'd be there through it all.
"So, tomorrow we can see him?" She asked after over an hour, through sobs.
You held her close, allowing a sigh to escape your lips. "Tomorrow morning," you reassured her softly. "And then cremation, just like he wanted."
This caused her to break down more, holding you close as she let her grief out upon you. Your face hadn't changed the entire time you held her, though you wished you could give her something. Instead, you just held her as long as she needed that night.
Looking in the mirror, you reach your hands down to smooth out your curve hugging black dress, your y/h/c locks done up in curls to contrast. A touch of makeup flushed your cheeks, though nothing would make up for your numb y/e/c eyes. The collar of your dress covered an inch of your neck, sleeves covering your arms, while the dress dipped down, a little above your knees.
"Ready?" You questioned softly as your numb, dry eyes shifted over to your sniffling sister.
Your sister's black dress had a slight flow, a high collar, and no sleeves. Her hair laid upon her shoulders, framing her naturally flushed cheeks. Upon her face, she wore no makeup, surely something that would have smeared within moments. She hadn't answered audibly, sniffling as she nodded.
You reached a hand out for her free hand, lacing your fingers with her own as the two of you walked down the stairs from your apartment. Heart settled in your stomach, you still felt the steady numbness throughout your entire body, breaths shallow with each step. The walk to the mortuary itself, though close, had seemed like hours. Once your heels hit the sidewalk, you were sure all eyes on the block stared. When your sister used the hand that held her tissue to clench the same arm that held your hand, sobbing onto your shoulder, you had not cared who stared.
The service itself was short, your sister doing most of the talking. Sharing stories together, you wished you could allow tears to stain your cheeks. You wished that you could break down the same way, but held her all the same. The two of you said your goodbyes, your y/e/c eyes lingering upon him for an extra moment before departing. As the two of you were departing, men in suits stopped the two of you.
"Y/N and Rebecca L/N?" They questioned, professionalism dripping from the man's words.
"Yes," you spoke in a monotone, your y/e/c eyes shifting between the two before it had clicked. Pursing your lips, your y/e/c eyes shifted to your sister, giving her a reassuring squeeze. "Rebecca, you can go back to my apartment. I'll deal with this."
"Are you sure?" She questioned between sobs.
You rubbed circles into her back, nodding. "Yeah, it will be quick," you replied softly. "Lock the door. I have a key."
She nodded and retreated off to your apartment, while you were left alone with the two men. "We're sorry to bother you, Miss, but Jacob L/N had a will," the other man spoke, looking down at a clipboard of paperwork before glancing back at you. "Is there somewhere you would like to discuss…"
"Bob's Burgers," you replied, motioning to the wall that it would be on the other side of. "It's normally pretty quiet."
"Y/N!" You could hear Linda's voice gasp as she watched you walk into Bob's Burgers, the bell upon their shop dining as you walked in. Behind you, the two lawyers walked. "I heard, and I'm so sorry…"
"Thanks, Linda," you replied solemnly. "My sister's in my apartment, so I'm taking care of the paperwork with these gentlemen here. I'll spend $40 for your troubles."
"Sweetie, take all the time you need," she reassured you kindly. "You look really pretty."
"It's not like we're busy anyways," Bob chimed in with a hint of anguish in his tone.
"Thanks," you replied. You sat across from the two lawyers in the far booth, getting right to the will. With the two lawyers, you had been brief, signing off on your sister's behalf for her share under the grieving circumstances. Every answer you gave them had been brief, though you could feel a dull ache as the first, smallest part of the weight of it all was setting.
"That should be about it," the one lawyer spoke as he handed you the copy of the paperwork. "Thank you, Miss L/N. Our condolences to both you and your sister."
"We weren't told that we were going to be sent out so soon, so we extend our apologies for that," the other added in. "We will head out now."
You shook both of their hands before watching them walk out of the restaurant. Though your lips held a constant frown, the numbness about your body had still overpowered the dull ache in your heart. Allowing a sigh to escape your lips, you gathered up the paperwork, before walking over to Bob, who had now been at the front counter.
Digging into your wallet, you pulled out two twenties, handing them to Bob as you attempted to force your lips upwards into a poor half smile. "In different circumstances, I would have actually ordered something," you assured him as you handed him the forty dollars. "You guys are great, and thank you for putting up with that."
"You don't need to give us this much," he replied, before quickly switching to, "Uh, thank you. And I'm sorry for your loss."
Pursing your lips, you realized you had not addressed the other amends you wished to make. Before you turned to leave, you continued with, "I also wanted to apologize. For obvious reasons, I couldn't tell anyone that Calvin was with me for those three weeks."
"What were you getting out of that anyways?" He questioned curiously.
"Three months of free rent," you replied, before shifting your eyes away. "And Linda was right. I would have probably done it regardless because of that little crush."
"I knew it!" Linda chimed in happily, before her tone immediately changed. "If you need anything, sweetie…"
"Nothing's hit me yet," you replied shamefully. "It will, but...I just need to go be there for Rebecca."
"Did you and Mr. Fisch at least…" she questioned, ever so curiously.
You quickly shook your head, allowing a sigh to escape your mouth. "Felix found him after three weeks," you replied, "and, uh, he was gone. Anyways, I really have to go."
You took the paperwork back to your apartment, unlocking the door and joining your sister on the couch. After shoving the paper away, the two of you went through pictures and that video, over and over. Throughout that time, your sister had been more vocal through her sobs, holding onto you as she cried. For the next week, you would spend most of your time in the apartment with your sister, helping her get back on her feet, and reminiscing. Though you had your share of reminiscent thoughts, you had not broken down the same way she had.
After your sister finally went back home, you had thoughts that maybe it would not even hit you. Everything felt so numb, you hadn’t even thought of Calvin breaking your heart as much, let alone the lingering thoughts of your father being gone. Each day revolved around your sister and her grief, consoling her until she had been well enough to head back home to her family. Once the apartment had been empty again, your sister back home for over a day, you could feel your numbness fading from you. That subconscious need to be strong faded before your very eyes as you slumped on your bed.
Your music played softly, to a song you had forgotten to remove from your playlist. When the tears began to flow, you did not initially feel them. As your body began to shake, your breathing was shallow, your sobs slowly more audible. Silently, you reached your hand to your face, feeling the moisture of hot tears.
When you noticed them, though, they fell harder. You pulled your knees up to your chest as you lied on your side, sobbing rather loudly as your eyes shut tightly. Your whole body continued to shake as you sobbed, finally reminiscing over those same thoughts in your mind. Regrets flashed through you, not visiting him more, little trivial things you had done as a kid. The two of you had always been close, and yet, you could still find what if's. You could still find regrets that shook you to your core, gripping yourself tightly.
For a moment, you wished your sister stayed. You wished that you had someone you could call on, someone who would allow you to cry into their arms. The apartment had simply been white noise as your sobs echoed the bedroom. Hours passed as you cried in your bed, puffy y/e/c eyes shut so tightly that they ached. Fingertips dug into your shins as you held yourself so closely, surely leaving a bruise for the next day.
You were a mess, and you were a mess alone. Salted tears stained your bedsheets as you thought of all the good times, all those times you missed. He may have not always been fun, not always the best friend, but he had been real. As the first daughter, not everything had been perfect, but you respected him all the more for it.
You hadn't heard the footsteps in your apartment, stopped at the doorway to your bed. Your sobs had taken over any sort of security you had for your own apartment. The figure standing in your doorway watched for more than a few minutes, a frown stretched across his face as he debated leaving. Something about this scene, about you, stopped the figure from leaving.
The figure was not naive to why you were broken in your bed, clutching your knees so tightly to your chest. Maybe he hadn't expected you to be broken as he walked into your apartment, but he still had made a stop before heading to your apartment. He inquired, and he had the choice to walk away. He had the choice to wait even longer, give you the time to break and grieve.
"We paid our rent this month," Bob said uncomfortably as he watched him walk into the restaurant. "And, I mean, we're already closing up. Did you need something? I guess I could turn the grill back on."
"No, no," he replied, quickly shaking his head. "I don't want your food, Bob. I wanted to know if you or your burger wife had seen Y/N lately."
"Oh, that poor girl," Linda chimed in from the kitchen, moving out to the front counter. "Her sister stopped by before she left yesterday. Said her father's death hadn't hit her yet, but she's been all alone in that apartment."
"Didn't you say you were going to check on her?" Bob questioned his wife, glancing over to her as he spoke.
"There's no need," he quickly hushed the two, a frown still apparent against his lips as he spoke. "I will stop over there."
"Is that really such a great idea?" Linda chimed in, trying to butt in a bit. "I mean, she didn't say much about anything, but it sounds like you just left her hanging."
"Ah, yes," he replied uncomfortably. "I've been meaning to take care of that, but I've been rather busy."
"Don't you go in there and break the poor girl's heart more," Linda replied, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Lin, whatever happens between the two of them is none of our business," Bob quickly countered.
"Well, I care about her," Linda dismissed, waving a hand to solidify her point. "She's a sweetheart and actually knows how to watch the kids, without having them walking all over her."
Quiet steps simply faded into white noise under the music that played. Your sobs trounced right over the music, and just about anything could have happened. You would have never noticed.
As you were pulled into warm arms, you did not even fight it. Desperately wanting some sort of comfort, you did not even ask who held you so closely. In a small way, you took comfort in the arms that surrounded you without question. Even as he rubbed soft circles on your back, silent as he allowed you to just cry until you tired yourself, you hadn’t asked. Part of you wondered if arms even truly held you, but everything fell over you like a waterfall, matching the tears that stained your y/e/c eyes. You cried your eyes puffy, your throat raw from your sobs as you drifted off to sleep. The figure that held you so closely had pulled up the covers over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss to your head before allowing himself to drift off to slumber.
Waking from your slumber had been nearly as bad as waking from the hangover, your whole body aching. Groggily, you nearly fluttered your pained eyes open, before letting them shut again. You relished in the warmth that surrounded your body, your aching body initially finding no reason to question who shared your bed. The sweet embrace had been intoxicating, your body with the slightest of warmth in your chest.
Though you could still feel it, the emptiness inside of losing him, the way you cried yourself to the point of aching had taken most of the coming tears away. Part of you wished to just lie in intoxicating arms for the rest of the day, relish in the little something that you did have of comfort, and face the world another day. Even so, as you felt those arms begin to move, you forced yourself to do the same.
In a sense, when your y/e/c gaze landed upon Calvin, yourself a puffy-eyed mess, you knew you felt a little embarrassment engulfing your mind. Groggily blinking, you thought initially to hide your face with a pillow, a blanket, anything that would let you properly hide. Even so, you felt your heart swell with something you hadn't expected. You knew your fondness before Calvin left, and yet, you had not realized that fondness would simply grow with him away.
"Thank you," you murmured, semi-uncomfortably as you struggled to stand off the bed. "You didn't have to…"
"Shh, shh, shh," he spoke as he moved to press a gentle kiss against your forehead. "I had the opportunity to walk away, and yet here I am, in your shabby apartment."
You could not manage a smile at him, though you wished you would be able to. "Let me shower, and if you want, I'll make you breakfast," you offered sheepishly, your y/e/c eyes shifting away in embarrassment. "It's the least I can do for you having to see that."