A/N: If you're a troll, leave now because your reviews will simply be deleted ❤️

Farkle

Farkle hated packing, and he hated unpacking, and the few times he had done it in his life he had procrastinated as long as possible. But Maya was sitting in his new apartment, and she was sitting on the floor, because the couch was covered in boxes. So he knew that, at the very least, he had to unpack those boxes.

"I think she'll pick back up," Maya was musing to Farkle, as she passively went through a box of clothes and organized them into piles. "The therapy session seems to have really helped her; Josh said she gained another pound."

"That's good," Farkle agreed, taking the next box to the kitchen to put the dishware and silverware away. It was an open floor plan, so the living room was still visible from the kitchen, and Farkle could just see Maya's head over the island counter as he stacked plates in a cupboard. "How much more does she need to gain?"

"Nine pounds," Maya informed him. "But her weight gain should speed up exponentially, because they can keep increasing her food intake the longer she's there. In the beginning they had to increase her calories really slowly so that her body wouldn't go into some kind of 'refeeding syndrome' - at least, that's what Josh told me. He explained it but I don't remember what it really meant."

"It's hormone and metabolic changes from the shock of more nutrition," Farkle recalled. "I did some research when Riley first got admitted."

"Well she's supposed to be past that mark now," Maya added. She pulled something out of the box she was going through and smirked. "You still have turtlenecks?"

"They're good in winter," Farkle justified, and Maya laughed.

"Our baby will never wear a turtleneck."

"You say that now, but when she's cold in the winter you'll change our mind," Farkle declared.

"Doubt it."

Farkle rolled his eyes, smiling a little. "Speaking of her, do you want to help me with her nursery here? If it's too much stress I can do it myself."

Maya glanced up. "She's staying with me, Farkle."

"I know," Farkle assured her. "I know she'll be living with you. But I've got three bedrooms here and it makes sense to have a nursery set up just in case."

"In case of what?" Maya narrowed her eyes defensively.

"In case of an emergency, in case you need to leave town, in case there's a fire in your apartment," Farkle began to list.

"You really are the worried one," Maya observed, and Farkle sighed.

"It can't hurt, can it?"

Maya heaved a deep breath. "Fine. And yes, I want to help."

"Good," Farkle smiled, "after I finally finish putting all this," he gestured to the boxes surrounding them, "away, we can start on the nursery. If you want to do some online shopping, for stuff to put in the room…"

"I'll figure it out," Maya promised, pulling another shirt out of the box and frowning. "Another turtleneck, Farkle?"

"They're warm, okay?"

Riley Matthews was getting smaller and smaller, and Farkle could tell that her boyfriend was noticing the same thing. It wasn't a shock day to day; she didn't lose weight enough to freak out. But when he looked at photos of them from the year before and compared Riley's appearance to the most recent photos, it was definitely concerning.

But what was he supposed to do about it? He thought Riley was smart; Riley was supposed to know how eating worked with her body and that she needed the food. But she didn't seem to care.

Farkle cared, and he could tell Lucas cared, but Maya seemed oblivious. He had to wonder if she really didn't notice, or if she was doing her best not to notice. Maya Hart had never been one to confront difficult problems.

So Farkle tried to gently help Riley, hoping that she wouldn't figure out that he knew. Maybe if he pushed her just a bit, she would at least start eating to placate him; keep her secret. And it worked, for a while; he would invite her to lunch and complain about her never eating with them anymore, he would suggest doing homework over dinner and share his food with her, if she didn't take enough of her own. She seemed to know that if she turned him down too many times, he would probably figure out her secret, so she slowly began to accept his offers. It wasn't addressing the root of the problem, but it was a way to help her to not die. Farkle had a feeling if he tried to address the root of the problem, she would completely shut him down. He couldn't take that chance.

So he pushed her to eat, and kept tabs on their photos, measuring to see that she wasn't losing any more weight. And his plan worked; she actually gained some weight by the end of the year. She seemed happier, too, and even though Farkle knew he should be doing more, he was just desperate to keep her alive.

Losing Riley would be the worst thing in his life to date, and he was going to do whatever it took to make sure that didn't happen.

Farkle had tried not to look at photos of Riley from Idyllwild, but he found himself comparing a photo of their graduation to a photo he had taken of Riley and Helena a few weeks before Helena died. The difference in Riley's appearance was sickening, and he knew he couldn't blame it on the difference in age. She was not supposed to look like a skeleton of her former self.

How had he not seen it? She was starving herself again, and he had been working with her every single damn day and he hadn't seen it.

If he had died, he knew it would have been on him. He had been the one seeing her every day. Not Lucas, not Maya, certainly not Isadora, not even her parents saw her as much as Farkle did. He should have figured it out.

He should have told someone. He should have told someone way back in Idyllwild, because they could have forced her to get treatment. They could have helped her and fixed the root of the issue, and maybe she wouldn't be in a hospital now. The moment Riley turned eighteen, the harder it would be to get her to agree to treatment.

He stared down at the photo on his phone, tracing the shape of her sunken cheek bone from only months ago. Lucas had told him that Riley had been just over 90lbs when she was admitted, which was a BMI of 15.0 - the lowest end of the 'severely underweight' range. If she had lost any more weight, she would have died. If she hadn't been admitted to the hospital, she would be dead.

She had to gain 20lbs and reach a stable weight of 112lbs to be released from inpatient care - she had to be securely in the healthy weight range. Farkle knew, though, that 112lbs was the very minimum of the healthy weight range. However, it would probably be the highest BMI she had had since being a teenager, and that scared Farkle to no end.

"How about… Zoe?" Farkle suggested, flipping through the baby book that was over Maya's ankles in his lap as Maya laid with her feet elevated.

"Why, what does that one mean?" Maya asked warily.

"'Fighter', it's Greek," Farkle informed her.

"So, what, she's a gladiator now?" Maya asked, smirking as her head came up a little to meet Farkle's eyes.

"Hey, you're the one who told me about your 'bringing you out of the storm' idea," Farkle reminded her. "Maybe Rain or Storm."

"That's like calling her 'thunder' or 'hurricane'," Maya scoffed.

"How about Chrysa?"

Maya paused, taking a second to think - the first reaction Farkle had gotten out of her in the past few months of name-brainstorming.

"Not an immediate 'no'," Farkle observed, adding the name to his 'potential names' note on his phone.

"It's not as terrible as your other ones," Maya mumbled, laying her head back down. "Can I move now?"

"Your ankles are still swollen," Farkle informed her, still looking through the book.

"I am swollen, Farkle," Maya pointed out.

"Your doctor says your ankles shouldn't be this swollen," Farkle reminded her. "Would you rather use the compression socks?"

"I'd rather you be the pregnant one," Maya muttered.

"If I could be," Farkle assured her, patting her foot tenderly under the book on his lap, "I would. But considering that I don't have the necessary equipment, I'll have to settle for doing anything I can to help you."

Maya was quiet for a moment, and then said, "You're a good friend, Farkle. You'll be a good father."

Farkle couldn't stop the smile from lighting up his face. "That means a lot. I'm going to do my best, I promise."

"If I was going to have a baby with anyone," Maya admitted, raising her head to meet his eyes as her hand gripped his, "I'm glad it's with you."

A/N: I don't have a set plotline for Petrichor, which is why updates are so few and far between. I'm sorry for those of you who like this book :(

I posted updates to several stories today because they all happened to be done at the same time. I spent the summer writing here and there but never actually finishing a chapter; after coming out of my most recent depressive spiral, I finally went back and finished the chapters I was writing. Don't expect any kind of set update schedule; school is annoying and my depression is getting worse.

If you hate this story, go away. If you prefer my other GMW stories, go find Anecdoche or Nodus Tollens; I posted chapters to them too - you can't say I'm favoring one story over another :)

I love constructive reviews; any feedback sends me an email and emails remind me to keep writing (so even if you give me a bad review it will still remind me to keep writing lol).

Sorry for the long wait.

Kisses,

C