A/N: Something like this should have happened. This took me way too long to finish. Please enjoy.
He had to go in at some point. He had to.
FP knew fully well some form of walking would be required to go inside, but something kept him frozen to the spot outside of Fred's house. What was keeping him there? He'd been picturing this moment since Jughead had given him the call to let him know Fred had pulled through, and the overwhelming sense of fear that had threatened to drown him was finally brought to a halt.
He knew he was okay.
Details of his recovery had been filtered his way via Jughead and the occasional visit from Tall Boy, telling him that Fred had been allowed to go home and had been holed up there ever since. He was okay, he was recovering, he was alive. FP felt his throat close up at the thought, refusing to let his mind wander to the what if of it all. No. A life without Fred didn't compute, it was like an anomaly in those science tests in middle school he'd always hated. When he'd gone there during the long stretch of hours between hearing the news he'd been shot and learning that he'd be okay, all he'd been able to see was a world of grey. A misty fog covering where Fred should be, tinkering away at a car with Archie and smiling that damn smile of his.
He was okay. He knew that for an absolute fact. But he had to see him with his own eyes, walking around, breathing, living, for it to truly register. Because some dark thought in his brain had been there with him during that waiting period for news, whispering into his ear that he just didn't get that lucky. Not with his parents, not Jughead, Gladys or Jellybean or any of the other people who were gone or had faded away from his life.
Go inside then idiot. A matter of fact voice not unlike Alice's snapped at him. You won't stop feeling this way until you do.
FP took a step forward, his breathing surprisingly steady as he did so. And another. And another. And another. He shook his head, grounding to a halt as he suddenly found himself in front of the door before he knew it. It had been so long since he'd been to this house, memories of movie nights with Fred, Mary and Gladys tinged among the walls. They had been round almost every weekend too, with Jughead always clamouring for their next trip to the Andrews home to see the family. He didn't blame him one bit. Fred personified the phrase of making a house a home, somehow making you feel safe and secure away from the chaos and destruction outside his walls.
Riverdale was painful, messy, and full of bad memories for FP.
And yet it was home.
He knocked twice, his heart pounding all the while as he tapped his foot against the porch floor. He could still distinctly recall the day Fred and Mary had moved into this very house, he had been back and forth all day helping them move all of their belongings inside. (The rock memorabilia Fred had compiled over the years had taken the better half of two hours.) Gladys had giggled as he and Fred huffed and puffed, shuffling dressers and tables through the ever familiar doorway.
A minute passed.
Was he out? He couldn't remember hearing whether or not he'd gone back to work.
He should've called. Fuck! What if he was still bed bound?
FP's questions were soon brought to a halt as blurry figure drew closer to the door, before finally opening it to pop his head through the door. Freddie. FP's heart leapt as he finally caught sight of the man, the dark circles under his eyes springing to life as they caught sight of FP. He looked rough. Though Fred was dressed he was clearly tired and bedraggled, the clear loss of a nights sleep ringing out from the man like a speakerphone.
He'd seen that same look in his own eyes before.
Sleepless nights after his time in the army, the long stretch of time between Gladys, Jellybean, and Jason Blossom, all accumulating in his turn to the bottle. FP knew how easy it was to turn to a crutch in times like these, he hoped Fred wouldn't make the same mistake. "Hi." He managed, frozen solid to the spot as Fred eyed his shattered form in surprise.
That sounded wrong. Hell it felt wrong, when all he wanted to do was wrap his arms around him after so long. He still felt that way after all this time, that same butterfly-like tingle in his stomach whenever he looked at his oldest friend. The one that made FP want to shield Fred from all threats, physical and otherwise, even from himself. He'd considered it many times before, vocalising whatever it was that still flowed through his entire being when he was with Fred Andrews. It had always been there. The possibility of something with Fred had always been lingering between the two men, with kisses scattered between the start of high school and graduation. But then he would try to open his mouth, and the words would get stuck half way up his throat. So he'd change the subject, turn to someone else, or brush off the entire thing.
He was okay. Wasn't he?
"Hey." Fred managed a small smile back in response, almost sheepish to FP.
"It's uhhh… It's good to see you." FP breathed, his gaze unwavering. Whenever Fred popped into his mind, FP would think of how he glowed. A warm, enrapturing glow that seemed to emanate from inside of him so freely and openly. It was what drew people to him, back then and even now. This innate love that he offered, that he himself had fallen for at the drop of a hat.
Now? He looked drained. Like a battery about to run out of power, it was clear to FP that the other man was holding on for dear life. (If Tom ever managed to find the shooter, he was going to rip his head off.) He'd never seen him this bad. Not after his falling out with Hiram, or Hermione's repeated rejections, not the collapse of his marriage, nor their own troubled history.
"Archie, he uh, he mentioned you were getting out." Fred nodded in acknowledgment, the elephant in the room still sitting firmly between them. FP wished for him to yell at him, or reprimand him, do anything that required some form of passion.
"Apparently I wasn't the only one. You seen him?"
Fred's face answered for him, as he appeared to grow more weary at the thought of Hiram. "Not a grey hair in sight." He managed to joke, shaking his head to himself in disappointment.
"Lucky bastard." FP smiled, his heart pumping more wildly as the corners of Fred's mouth lifted momentarily. The two of them stared at each other for a minute, as though they both needed the time to decide where to go from there. Should he mention it? What happened? Or was Fred trying to keep his mind off it, and what if an unwelcome reminder of all the bad things that had been happening in this town sent him toppling?
He couldn't be responsible for that.
He looked like the human equivalent of one of his grandmother's teacups he'd broken one year as a kid, all sunshine yellow and warm colours, but with the cracks barely hiding underneath. He'd kept that set hadn't he? He'd tucked it away somewhere safe after she'd died, and gifted them to Jellybean when she was old enough.
God he wished he could hug him right now.
He wanted to make all of Fred's pain and worry evaporate on the spot, the way he'd managed to do all those times throughout the years. Whisper promises of protection, as he hugged the tension out of his body. But they were walking on eggshells right now, he reminded himself firmly, batting down the urge to do so. He had just got out of prison, and the two of them... well they hadn't ended on a high note had they?
"FP?"
His heart continued to pound in his chest, growing louder by the second. "Yeah?"
"Why are you here?"
FP offered him a simple shrug, as he tucked his shaking hand into his jacket pocket. "I needed to see if you were okay. I- I know I fucked up, I know that. But I kept thinking about how you could die, and the way we left things-" FP cut himself off in an attempt to steel himself, before he said anything more. Fred tilted his head, staring at him in that familiar thoughtful way that seemed to stare right into his soul.
Fred shook himself out of it a moment later, offering FP a placative smile, that looked more tired than assuring. "I'm fine. Doctor says I'll make a full recovery soon enough, so long as I don't overextend myself."
"I didn't mean physically Freddie."
Fred balked at his words, visible shock making it's way on to his features before he composed himself once more. "I'm fine FP. Really."
"You trying to convince yourself that, or me? Look take it from a guy who's been there... Talk to someone. Don't bottle it up or it'll all come spilling out at once before you know it. Have you seen a shrink? You know since it happened?" FP pressed. He knew he shouldn't push so hard, but at that moment Fred looked as though a strong gust of wind could knock him over.
"With my medical bills?" Fred shook his head, letting out a sad laugh. "It's just not feasible. At least not right now."
Then let me help. He wished to say. Let me do something for you, after everything.
Fred had given him the world. All he wanted to do was make him smile again.
Taking a chance FP took a step forward, bringing them almost within close contact. To his surprise Fred didn't step back, merely biting down on his lip as the two men processed being so close to each other once again. FP felt the same familiar charge of electricity race through his veins, as his heart pounded like a jackhammer against his chest. God, he felt a teenager again. How did Fred still have the same innate ability to reduce him to a nervous puddle?
"I'm sorry." He breathed.
"Me too."
Fred made another attempt to wave away FP's anxiety, offering him another small, sad smile. But his eyes told another story as they slowly but surely began to bloom with a fresh bout of tears, something FP could guess instinctively that he had been doing a lot of lately. "Oh God." Fred cursed to himself, bringing his hand to his eyes to wipe away the tears as they poured forth.
That did it. Before his brain could catch up to the rest of his body, FP found himself bounding forward towards Fred and closing the small distance between them. Wary of his injury, gently pulled him into the biggest hug he could manage. Not a moment later he felt Fred's head come to rest on his shoulder, his body wrecked with silent sobs. "Oh God FP-" He cried. "I thought-"
"You're okay." FP mumbled into Fred's shoulder, unsure of who it was exactly that he was trying to convince. "You're gonna be okay."
But despite everything, FP felt himself grow more grounded to the world around him in Fred's presence. He was okay. He was safe, he was on the mend, and most importantly of all, he was alive. And for now that was enough.