Work Text
“Abby…” He breathed, but it came out like a moan. She’d always loved hearing her name tumble from his lips like that, but this time, the reasoning was all wrong. He wasn’t comforting her, wasn’t making her dizzy with bliss. No, this was strangled. This was pain, this was him trying to tell her it’s okay. He wasn’t. “Abby... “ How she wished this was a different situation, pleaded, begged even. “D-don’t t-tell …. y-you can’t.” A fit of coughing stole the words from him, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t l-let her f-find out.
Please.”
He started shaking, body failing, his breathing getting shallower and shallower. She couldn’t form words, the father of her child, the only man she’d ever loved, was dying
in her arms.
She kissed him hard, ignoring the coppery taste of blood. Focusing on his taste, he tasted like hope and love and everything she ever wanted. But he also tasted like death, pain, and loss. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, falling onto his chest. Not caring about his blood soaking into her skin, or her tears mixing in with it. “Stay?” She said it like she wasn’t desperately pressing the gaping hole in his stomach, trying to staunch the crimson leaving his body. “Always.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
[7 Years ago.]
He was going to be called away tomorrow, to fight valiantly for his country. Which was in all honesty, sexy as hell. However, this wasn’t goodbye sex, this was a promise. But when she woke up one morning after his departure, feeling incredibly nauseous and throwing up. She might have had a few slight regrets. She was pregnant, and he was halfway across the country probably getting shot at. He was going to be a father and he had no idea. The fact his mother called days later to tell her that he was most likely dead. That there was a bomb planted not even twenty feet from his sleeping quarters and that half his unit was K.I.A made her nauseous for a different reason.
She knew that even a small grenade at twenty feet was fatal. It was simple he was dead. She was pregnant with his child, but he was dead. So after ending the first call, Abby did what any normal person would’ve done in a situation like this. She called one of her college flings and made a
convincing
argument. As well as a stable life for her and her child. Did she eventually have trouble keeping up with the lie,
yes.
The kid looked nothing like the new guy. Dark and unruly hair,
his hair.
The same hair she’d tangled her hands in the first time he kissed her, the same hair she’d insisted on cutting to
her standards
a week before he left.
Which just so happened to be the
exact
opposite of what
his
replacement looked like.
God how she missed him.
He should be here,
but he’s not
, she chastised herself. Dropping out of the past, back into the present. “She looks like my grandmother,” is the lie she fed him.
It worked, for seven years it worked. Then everything crumbled. just like it did Every. Single. Fucking.Time. She couldn't even go a little bit without something happening. After the whole ordeal, some may have told her that “All good things come to those who wait.” She would’ve promptly slapped them, retorting with an “All good things must come to an end.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
A text, one very strange text message from an unknown number. Just two little words. Honestly, it shouldn’t have been a big deal, but it was always a big deal with him.
I’m alive.
When the love of your life, the man you thought had been brutally murdered by radicals texts you casually saying that he’s indeed
not dead.
Two things can happen. You can A, drag him upstairs by his tie and show him just how much you missed him. By ripping his infuriatingly handsome suit from his body, the way you used to. Or B, remember that his child is currently in your house, playing games with the man she thinks is her father. The man you married, but do not love. The same man you’ve lead on for 7 years now.
No, this was a type B situation. Marcus and Jake could never meet,
ever.
Not for her sake, not for Jake’s, for Aria’s. She’d done all this for her, but he could at least
know,
right?
She told him everything. He was silent the entire time, until she starts apologizing, quite profusely. “Abby, stop. I know….. Vera… she told me everything.” His eyes flickered to the door of her house, the door his daughter lay behind. “Would you like to meet her?” He looked hopeful, but he backed away a few steps. “I-I… I only came to tell you I’m not dead…. If I go in there, I’ll never be able to leave her. I can’t disrupt your life anymore.” She grabbed his arm before he could walk away, forcing him to look at her. “She’s always wanted a super fun uncle to spend lazy weekends with. Go to movies, you know Uncle/Niece stuff.”
“Abby I can’t-”
“Marcus, I thought you were dead. For seven fucking years, I thought you were dead. You’re not going anywhere.” And he didn’t. For the next six years, he played the uncle role perfectly. He spent every moment he could with Aria,
his beautiful Aria.
And if sometime in those six blissful years Jake noticed how oddly
identical
Aria was to her
uncle.
He never
said
anything.
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Remember how we said all good things must come to an end, well, it’s true.”You know it’s kinda weird to celebrate the anniversary of your own death?” She sat on the back deck, her head on his shoulder. Both nursing beers. “Yeah, I guess so.” A door slammed, a light went on, but they didn’t hear the gun click. It was much too soft for their alcohol hazed ears. Jake walked out, sitting comfortably on the third chair in front of them, what was usually Marcus’ spot. “Whatcha doing?” If it weren’t for his intoxication, Marcus would’ve picked up on the danger in his voice. “Celebrating my brother’s death.”“Fake death!” Marcus joked. Jake laughed, slightly maniacal. “You don’t have a brother… and I don’t have a kid.” Jake sounded like a madman, so much so it would’ve shaken the best soldier to his core. “Jake…”“No! Can it Abby the men are talking.” Marcus’ blood boils, he should be able to melt Jake with his eyes right? “I should’ve figured this shit out sooner. Aria’s your kid, but you went off to fake your death. Leaving Abby all alone, despite the fact you knocked her up.” His drink can crumbled under the pressure of his hand. “You two have a history, but we have a life. Abby is mine, I don’t care if the kids not mine… I see the way you look at her… you're not going to have the chance to take her from me.” The gun, it was out, off, and away in a flash. Marcus falls to the floor, clutching his gushing abdomen. Abby screams. “Don’t worry baby, it’s okay. You thought he was dead once, everything will be so much better now that he really is. There’s nothing in the way of our love.” Abigail had never punched anything in her life, but if Marcus wasn’t currently bleeding out, he would’ve said the way she punched Jake right in the nose was the hottest thing he’d ever seen. He went out cold. “Abby…” He breathed, but it came out like a moan. She’d always loved hearing her name tumble from his lips like that, but this time, the reasoning was all wrong. He wasn’t comforting her, wasn’t making her dizzy with bliss. No, this was strangled. This was pain, this was him trying to tell her it’s okay. He wasn’t. “Abby... “ How she wished this was a different situation, pleaded, begged even. “D-don’t t-tell …. y-you can’t.” A fit of coughing stole the words from him, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t l-let her f-find out. Please.” He started shaking, body failing, his breathing getting shallower and shallower. She couldn’t form words, the father of her child, the only man she’d ever loved, was dying in her arms. She kissed him hard, ignoring the coppery taste of blood. Focusing on his taste, he tasted like hope and love and everything she ever wanted. But he also tasted like death, pain, and loss. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, falling onto his chest. Not caring about his blood soaking into her skin, or her tears mixing in with it. “Stay?” She said it like she wasn’t desperately pressing the gaping hole in his stomach, trying to staunch the crimson leaving his body. “Always.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Her memory is jumbled, her panic stricken mind slow and transparent. She’s lifted away from him, moved back into her chair. Marcus cries out in pain again, she matches with one of her own. Even if she could open her eyes, they’d be too blurry to discern what’s happening. There’s yelling, and sirens, so many cacophonous sounds, Abby doesn’t hear any of them. What she does hear, is her baby girl. Screaming and crying as a stranger attempts to shield her from the gore. Her mind picks up, instincts taking over. Abby tries to comfort the girl, but her blood soaked hands and clothes turn Aria into a sobbing mess. “Mommy, what’s going on?” In that moment, a million different answers burst into her head
at the exact same time
. She knew what she wanted to tell her, just to free her own conscience. She knew Marcus had asked her not to say it, but she never agreed to it. Never vowed it. There was nothing holding the words back except what would happen when they came out. But the most crushing realization was that Aria was going to lose her father either way. “Baby, there’s something you need to know. It’s okay if you don’t understand it yet, or if it makes you scared, but Uncle Marcus isn’t really your uncle. And Jake isn’t really your father.” She wipes her nose with her sleeve, looking up at her mother as if she asked her a math question. Aria struggled with math. She burst into tears again, Abby cried with her. Her moment of lightness gone. And then, from her spot on the stairs, she saw four men and a stretcher rush through the house. In that moment, she made a choice. She was either going to sit with Marcus as he took his last breath, or spend the rest of her life with him. Either way, she was going to
be
there.
It was the most painful hours of her life, more painful than the 6 hours she was in labor with Aria. The waiting, it’s always the worst part. Abby was an active person, she didn’t wait for results. If she wanted something she did it herself. Was she short on patience, no. Did she still hate waiting, yes? Right now, she was just praying for an answer, news, any information.When the surgeon walked out, shoulders slack and eyes to the floor, she wished she would’ve prayed for something else. Words like internal bleeding, and organ failure, weighed down on her like a ton of bricks. Aria saw her mother's tears, so she started sobbing with her. In time with each other's tremors. “Mommy?” Aria croaked between sniffles. “Daddy’s not coming back, is he?” Maybe it was the pain, the panicked haze, or her just giving up. Whatever it may be, the words still slipped. “No honey, Marcus isn’t coming back.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
Abby woke up screaming, empty bed and crying baby. The clock on her nightstand read 2:49 AM. The opposite side of the bed was cold, ruffled but cold. Unable to shake the fear in her bones she started sobbing. Adding new tears to the dried ones all over her cheeks. The baby cried louder, surely her neighbors could hear both of them. Light flooded the room, the bathroom door had swung open. Someone gathering her in their arms.
No,
not someone.
Him.
“
Marcus
?” He cradled her to his body, he was warm, albeit quite wet, but warm. Aria let out another whimper, tired of being ignored. He picked her up too. “I’m here, it’s okay, you’re okay, we’re all okay.” She dropped her head to his chest, shedding a few more tears. “I-I thought you w-were dead. Y-your blood it was….” She moved her gaze to her clothes, her pristine white clothes. Not even a hint of red. “I’m alive.” He smiles, that lopsided smirk that always brightened the world. He sat up, attempting to return Aria to her bed, now soundly asleep. She stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Stay?” Marcus settled back down, both of his girls falling asleep on his chest. “Always.”