Summary: based off the song My Dear by Kina Grannis, this one-shot shows snippets of Farkle and Riley's life.
I cannot live without you, I told you this is true.
Riley's hand searched for Farkle's in the moonlight. There was so much uncertainty, so much she didn't know, so much to be nervous about up ahead, she just needed him.
The four of them were sleeping over at Riley's house. It was almost a week until their freshman year of high school and while everyone else was calm, Riley was a nervous wreck. She needed some comfort, so without thinking, her hand started looking for his.
Farkle's hand, cold and clammy, instinctively curled around hers, and she let out a breath she didn't realize she was holding.
Riley lay there for a second just drinking the moment in. Her hand in his, looking out the window while the three of them slept, she just hoped the everything would stay like this.
Her voice uncharacteristically sad, Riley looked at the sleeping Farkle, "I can't live without you," she whispered.
He shifted but stayed asleep, his hand clamped a little firmer around hers now.
I'll take pieces of you with me, I'll take parts you never knew.
She had slowly adopted Farkle's small snort laugh over time.
They had started to spend more time together once high school had started. While she did have a couple classes with Maya or Lucas, Farkle had all the same classes as she did, so it only made sense that Riley would study with him and walk with him to classes.
Without either of them noticing, they found that the most constant person in their life was the other. But they didn't mind. Farkle had known Riley since the first grade, and Riley had always depended on Farkle, she just didn't realize how much he depended on her as well.
It was when her dad had told a joke to Farkle and her during dinner that she noticed that her laugh matched his now. No one else had put any thought into it, but Riley's big boisterous laugh turned into a small snort and a smirk-like smile that clearly resembled Farkle's.
She didn't mind.
And one day you will wake up, without warning or a clue, and start to notice little things that are missing parts of you.
It was a monday when Farkle noticed that his nervous tick of ringing his hands were gone.
Ever since he was a kid, whenever Farkle got even the slightest bit nervous, he would wring his hands harshly. But now, as he got up the courage to audition for the newest play, he's surprised to find that he isn't wringing his hands at all. He's not even pacing back and forth wondering and rehearsing his lines. He's just lost in his thoughts.
When he gets on stage for his audition, he starts wringing his hands again. Old habits, die hard, he thinks to himself. But then out of the corner of his eye he sees Riley leaning against the auditorium door. It's a closed audition so he wonders how she got in, but then he realizes he's stopped torturing his hands.
Maybe she's why I stopped, he thinks again.
He takes a deep breath and looks at Riley, she smiles and gives him a thumbs up.
In the end, he gets the part.
Oh, I need you here. Oh, you always be my dear.
Truth be told, Farkle isn't the best at comforting people. He's awkward, and that's being generous. He's all about, pats on the back and smiles, but that doesn't normally work on someone who's crying their eyes out. So he makes exceptional effort to avoid people who need comfort.
The exception to this, is Riley Matthews. Always has been. He's never good at comforting unless it's Riley, because he knows that when she falls down, she needs the most help to get back up. She's the happiest so she falls the hardest. It's always been something that Farkle's been aware of. So while others get a pat on the back, Riley gets pep talks and hugs and platonic forehead kisses (or at least, semi-platonic forehead kisses).
This is why when Riley has been bullied again, Farkle's the first to find her. He's the one to pick her up and he's the one to get her ice cream and make jokes until she cracks a smile.
But when Riley doesn't come out of her room for a couple days, Farkle is a little lost. He knows where she is, but maybe she doesn't want help, she just wants to wallow. However, Topanga and Cory show up at his apartment and take him by the hands and practically pushes him into her room, making him cheer her up.
He doesn't know what to do.
He sees Riley, hair tousled, bed a mess, and eyes red, and he hears her voice, "Farkle?"
So he nods and he can hear a sigh of relief.
"I kind of need you right now," she pleads.
He reaches her bed and grabs her hand and suddenly, he knows what to do. He just needs to be here. Maybe no pep talks but she just needs to know that he's physically with her, so he stays.
The freckle on your shoulder and the creases on your cheeks.
When things change between them, it feels so natural. One moment they're Riley and Farkle, best friends, and the next they're Riley and Farkle, power couple. But it doesn't feel like anything has changed, because maybe it's been there all along, just hibernating.
She points out the freckle when he's wearing a tank top. At first he thinks it's just because she wants to ask him something, because she pokes it. But after he asks her a number of times what she wants she keeps poking it. He's about to get annoyed when she stops and he thanks the heavens that she has. But then he feels one more thing, her lips kissing the freckle.
She relishes in the fact that he breaks out into a goofy grin once she kisses his freckle. Riley Matthews is an observer, and while she loves the freckle, she loves the creases that appear when he smiles as well.
He smiles with his whole face, she thinks, smiling up at him.
She could get used to that view.
The scar upon your forehead and your whisper when you speak.
When they leave New York City for college and they rent the same apartment, one of her favorite things is that she can just be in the same bed with him. Not anything dirty just sleeping in the same bed with him, knowing that he's right next to her and he's not going anywhere, it's her favorite thing.
She's wide awake again. Just like on the night that before high school, and he's fast asleep. Hesitantly, she lifts her hand a bit towards his face, her fingers grazing the scar on his forehead. The one he got in central park when they were chasing each other and he tripped. She almost bursts out laughing. He's such an idiot, she thinks happily. She kisses the scar.
His eyes flutter awake and when she runs a hand through his hair, he hums in happiness and kisses her forehead. "Hey, sunshine," he whispers. His voice is ragged and rough, but she doesn't care one bit.
"Hey to you too," she mumbles, right before snuggling up to him.
His arms that wrap around her, they feel just like home.
I took them cause I need you. I took them to be mine. I took them so you'd miss them so you'd want them back in time.
When he comes home from work, he's pretty sure that Riley's asleep. One of his coworkers paid him some extra money to take over his shift so it's pretty late when he gets home. He just thanks his lucky stars that he didn't have classes the next day.
However, he's surprised to see that Riley's up, reading through a textbook on their couch, occasionally sipping from a mug of chamomile tea.
"You shouldn't be up," he tells her, rubbing his eyes as he does so.
She gets up from the couch and walks to him, his hands finding her waist. "Then neither should you," she retorts back. She watches as he shakes his head and rolls his eyes.
After a second, he looks at her outfit. "Is that my t-shirt?" he asks.
"Mhmm…" she smiles. "What about it?"
"Well, why are you wearing it?"
"Because you haven't been home all day and I missed you," she pauses, "Is that stupid?"
He shakes his head, "Far from it."
She smirks up at him, "You want it back?" she asks slightly suggestively. He nods and she laughs, "Too bad," she chuckles and kisses his nose before saying she's going to sleep.
This girl, she was going to be the death of him. Whether he knew it or not.
If I hold on to you, don't let me go.
"Farkle, please don't leave."
He kept packing. Randomly taking clothes from what used to be their dresser and shoving it into his suitcase.
"I love you, please, just let us talk this out," Riley pleaded again.
He just shook his head, seemingly unaware of what she was even saying. She wrapped a hand around his arm, he froze.
"Please," she sobbed, her voice breaking and her tears streaming down her face.
Farkle looked at her, his beloved Riley, and he kissed her on her forehead. He heard the sharp intake of breath and he could tell that it had sparked hope, he had just made it worse for both of them.
"Stay," she whimpered. Her hand squeezing a bit tighter.
But he couldn't. They were broken. Maybe they could be fixed but Farkle just couldn't see how right now. So he shook off her hand, zipped his suitcase and slammed the door.
As he reached the streets he could feel his heart breaking. He could feel the pain in his chest from leaving as the cold air filled his lungs. Why was he doing this to himself? He looked both ways. Right or left?
He went left.
Oh, I need you here.
There was a flatline. There was silence. And then there was a funeral. That was how Riley had remembered it. Three months after Farkle had left, her father had called saying that something was wrong with Grandpa Allen and that she needed to fly to Philly that night. Her Grandma had passed away a year or two before but her Grandpa had been okay, or that's what it seemed.
In the hospital room, he smiled at Riley and told her to keep breathing with a wink. Then he stared at the ceiling and said "I'm coming, Amy." And the flatline came.
The funeral happened the next week in Philadelphia. Riley had been in her grandparents backyard in the old treehouse when she heard footsteps.
"Dad, I just need a minute," she yelled out the window. "Or a year," she mumbled to herself.
Instead of her dad's voice calling back, she heard silence. And then she saw Farkle.
"You're not my dad," she whispered.
"You're not my mom," he awkwardly replied.
He came inside and lay down next to her. "You okay?"
She scoffed, shaking her head, "Peachy," she said, bitterly.
"What are you really feeling?"
"Like absolute crap," she laughed mirthlessly. He wrapped an arm hesitantly around her, and was happily relieved to feel her sink into his body. "Where have you been, Farkle?" she asked him, her voice exasperated.
"I'm not too sure to be honest," he joked. She didn't laugh. "Not where I needed to be," he sighed.
She shook her head, "What were we even fighting about?"
Farkle tried to think back to that night. He found it hard considering he had seriously pushed it out of his head until now, "I honestly don't know."
"You're not going to run out on me again, right?" she snapped, but there was a touch of vulnerability, a hope that he would stay.
"Not a chance," he assured her, squeezing her a little tighter.
And oh, you will always be my dear.
It took some time. There were awful arguments daily for a while. Him leaving being brought out many times by Riley. Most of the fights ended in small amounts of tears, others ended in laughter. But they ended up being okay.
The toughest times were at the beginning. After he stayed for the funeral, they talked. Really talked. And Riley found that they had both grown up in ways neither of them had really accounted for. Riley had grown a bit bitter, and Farkle had grown more sheltered and wary of everyone, but they still fit. Maybe the edges were a bit jagged but they wore them down.
"I love you," Riley mumbled, she was half-asleep but she was well aware of what she was saying. It was the first time either of them had said that since they had gotten back together.
Farkle smiled down at her, "I love you, too," he whispered, loud enough so she could hear.
They both knew in that moment, as Farkle leaned down to kiss her forehead, that they were going to be okay.