"After All"
Chapter One- Sand and Silk
He ran his fingers through his shaggy hair, liking the difference between it and the crew cut he'd become grudgingly accustomed to after 6 years in the service. It was just another facet of civilian life he would have to readjust to now he was reserves instead of active duty. The decision hadn't been easy, Bass had tried to talk him out of it for months before finally giving up and dropping his own active status and enrolling in the same Sergeant Education Program. Miles knew it was the best way to make E-6 and figured they could relax and kick back for a while while they went through the school.
They had found an apartment 10 miles from base, filled the secondhand fridge with beer and started working their way through it. They even remembered to buy actual food sometimes. The classes were demanding, but he soaked up every bit of information he could, and even Bass occasionally paid attention (though, more often than not, Miles let him cheat off of his work just like they had done in middle and high school.)
Except for once a month drills, they were living the easy life, going to bars after classes with other reserves, drinking when they wanted, and Miles finally bought the car he had always dreamed of getting. He even found time to swing down to Evanston to see his mom once or twice, though it was more out of a sense of obligation than actual want. It wasn't that he hated her, or even that he didn't love her- he did. His mom had been good to him and he truly did love her dearly. But there was always that little touch of bitterness when it came to her and anyone else, especially in regards to his little brother. He was the golden child that Miles never could quite outshine, not that he had ever tried really hard to do so. While Miles had goofed off in school, coasting by on easy B's, Ben had excelled and surpassed everyone's hopes and dreams, especially in Math (Miles' worse subject.) As the genius and baby of the family, Ben could do no wrong and, deep down, Miles hated him for it.
When Miles was only 8, their father had suddenly passed and his mother had moved them to Evanston, a small town just outside of Chicago. Miles and Ben had grown up with the same 5000 faces around them everyday until they were 18. It was there, on the second day of school, that he had met Sebastian "Bass" Monroe, a scrawny, curly-headed kid that had had the same bullies since kindergarten. Miles had come upon him, on the ground and with a little blood dripping from his nose as two bigger kids stood over him. Within a few seconds, one kid had a black eye, the other had a chipped tooth, and Miles had a new, tow-headed shadow that would soon become his best friend. Not once had he ever looked back with regret.
As for his actual brother, there was always a distance between them, and not just because of the younger being the genius whiz. Ben was a clean-cut honor roll student that rarely left the house or even played. Miles mostly hung out with Bass and got into petty trouble (that they almost always got away with). While Ben was busy studying, Miles had discovered girls- namely Emma, his high school sweetheart. She was the reason he wanted out of the small town, to be better and be able to grow outside of the fishbowl he found himself trapped in. With his grades only fair and with little interest in college, though, he only had one choice. He enlisted, and right beside him, no longer scrawny but just as starry eyed, was Bass. Their mothers had cried, their friends alternately thought he was either cool or idiots (it was about even), and while Emma had tried to be supportive, he could tell she was dreading them leaving. Ben, however, had simply shaken his brother's hand and quietly wished him good luck before returning to his books.
That night, for the first time in 2 years, he would see his younger brother again. The town was throwing a big barbeque for Labor Day and his mother had cajoled and wheedled and nearly bribed him until he had agreed to come. Of course, the lure of free beer and food didn't hurt and he pretty much hog-tied Bass and threw him into the car to go with him. The only part he dreaded was the tension that would inevitably be between Bass and Ben. There had always been a thin streak of jealousy between the two- one wishing he was Miles' brother and the other wishing he was Miles' best friend. But, while not exactly friends by any definition, they had always tolerated each other for Miles' sake and he expected nothing less that evening.
They arrived just as the sun was setting and the festivities were kicking off. Bass immediately went to find beer (and at least say hello to his family, of course) while Miles went in search of his own mother and brother. Neither of the soldiers liked crowds, their time in godforsaken, dust-filled, crowded towns where one could be shot or blown to hell at any second too fresh in their minds to relax, so he couldn't blame his friend for needing a little liquid reinforcement. As kids were screaming and tearing past him and more and more people pressed into the town square, he seriously considered rejoining with Bass for some of his own reinforcing. Skin beginning to crawl, the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand, and he felt like the air had gone from cool and humid and soft to dry sand that choked his throat. Wiping his sweaty, shaking hands on his jeans, he moved to the picnic table area and took a few steadying breaths.
His heart still pounding, he nearly jumped out of his skin as someone shouted his name from close by. Hand automatically dropping to his side for the ghost of a weapon that wasn't there (he always left his personal gun in the car when out in public for safety reasons), he spun around and saw the person wave to him. A couple of seconds later, familiarity dawned and he recognized the guy as Dwayne, a guy that had been a friend back in the day. They hadn't been particularly close but he'd enjoyed hanging out and playing some music with him on occasion. Dwayne and Bass were the only two that had ever known about Miles' dream of becoming a rock star at one point during his teenage years, a dream he had thrown away when he had sold his guitar for a beat up, piece of shit Oldsmobile his Senior year. The loss of that guitar had been too big a price, Miles had realized too late, and ever since, he'd carried his favorite guitar pick secretly in his wallet as a way to remember his first true love: music.
Dwayne hadn't changed much over the years- a bit heavier, with a well-fed, good ol' boy vibe to him that Miles had always found amusing. Forcing his nerves under control, he walked over and shook the man's hand, exchanging the typical, insipid catching-up talk that always seemed required in these situations. Dwayne told him that Emma was studying in Chicago, planning on being a teacher, and gave him some bullet-points on what all had happened in the six years since Miles and Bass had left. As Miles half-heartedly listened, he noticed Dwayne reach beside the picnic table and pick up an achingly familiar case, setting it down on the table before him.
"Remember this beauty?" he asked, snapping open the locks and Miles felt his stomach clench. "I promised you I would take care of her, didn't I?" Passing the guitar over, he watched as Miles took in the instrument, remembering every line of its sleek, ebony black body and neck with reverent hands.
"Yeah, you did," Miles breathed.
"Go ahead, give it a play," Dwayne said and Miles' heart began to beat faster. Sitting down on top of the table, he pulled out his wallet and removed the pick from its holding spot, then looked down. It had been long- too long, he worried- but as his fingers wrapped around the neck, they automatically found their place on the strings and pressed down. Taking a breath, he strummed.
It was as if the last 6 years had never happened. With one stroke, he was back in high school, his life ahead of him, Emma and Bass casually listening nearby as he and Dwayne played every song they could think of. No gunfire, no screaming terrorists, no planes flying into towers, or heartbreaking "Dear John" letters from Emma… Just him and the guitar and the music floating around him. Running through a few chords, he felt himself lighten and he chuckled at Dwayne as he riffed without aim. As he began to play an old AC/DC song, a favorite of theirs even now, Dwayne grabbed a second guitar from nearby and joined him. Being acoustic, the song sounded a bit different, but by the second chorus they had found their rhythm and were even beginning to draw a small crowd. Together, they began going through their old repertoire, more and more people listening in. Closing his eyes, Miles let his mind go and once again, he was free.
A simple glance up was all it took. A split second in which he looked up once, then had to look again to verify that she was real and the world narrowed to two blue eyes, alabaster skin, and blonde hair he could swear he could feel running between his fingers. Hands still moving of their own accord, his heart was seized by everything about her. She was the only thing he had ever seen that could drown out the music.
It was baffling how quickly the world could change. Like some kind of cosmic light switch, the world was flooded with light and in the span of a skipped heartbeat, he saw their entire future together- dating, marriage, making love, stupid fights, making up, kids...And in the next dizzying second, the light was gone again. As she stood there, watching him as intently as he was her, an arm looped around her waist from behind. No. God no, he thought as he saw his own brother kiss her on the lips, then, spotting him, wave with the hand that wasn't casually resting on her hip.
As the song ended, he threw a thanks to Dwayne, carefully returned the guitar down in its case, its gleaming wood and allure of escape now faded. He took his time, needing a second to gather his control before facing Ben and the woman, but as he stood back up, he came face to face with a grinning Ben. Getting pulled into a slapping embrace before he could stop it, he stared at the woman over his brother's shoulder.
"Miles, it's been too long," Ben said and Miles nodded, pulling away and turning his eyes to his brother. He was no longer the pimply 16 year old from when he left for the military, nor even the 20 year old that looked like he had been through almost as much hell as Miles had- though his trenches were in the college library during finals week. Now, he looked more like a man, his jaw set and obviously a bit more worldly than Miles remembered him being.
"Yeah, it has," he finally managed as Ben stepped back, arm automatically returning to the woman's waist as he grinned with pride.
"Rachel, this is my big brother, Miles. Miles, this is Rachel Porter, my girlfriend." Girlfriend. There it was. Any lie Miles had told himself, maybe she was just a friend, was now gone. Ben had finally found himself a girl… and Miles had already fallen in love with her. Never had he hated his brother more than in that second.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Miles. Ben has told me all about you," she said, extending her hand to him politely. Swallowing hard, he took her hand in his and did his best to ignore the jolt of warm electricity he felt as they shook.
"Nice to meet you, too," he replied somehow.
"Hey, how about I get us all some beers and we can catch up?" Ben suggested, then slapped Miles' arm jokingly. "Can I trust you to not steal my girl while I'm gone?" He was gone with a chuckle before Miles could even pretend to smile and he and Rachel were alone. As he tried to come up with something, anything, to say, he felt something hit his shoe.
"I think you dropped your guitar pick," she said and he looked down to see the shiny triangle laying on the grass by his boot.
"Thanks," he grunted, snatching it back up and pulling out his wallet to return it home.
"You keep it in your wallet?" she asked and he nodded, glad for something to talk about.
"Yeah, it's kinda special," he said, holding it out for her to see. "It was the first pick I ever got."
"That's really nice," she murmured and he put it away. "You play very well. I liked hearing you just now. Do you play often?"
"No, um...I haven't played in years, what with being overseas and all."
"Right, Ben told me you're a Marine?"
"Yeah. Reserves right now, though. We, my buddy Bass and me, have been back for about 2 months," he said and she nodded.
"Well, it is a little late, but welcome home," she said with a smile that sent warmth through him again. "I know Ben is incredibly proud of you. He talks about you all the time."
"Thanks. My mom is o-"
The light switched again as the explosion sounded above them, sending sparks over their heads. There was nothing more powerful in a human body than instinct and, without warning, Miles hit the ground with a grunt, covering his head as more flames burst overhead. Mouth filled with sand- god, it really was everywhere- the heat prickling his neck, he couldn't even breathe enough to scream if he had wanted to. All he could do was lay on the ground, paralyzed and exposed, and wonder how long the attack was going to last… and why the ground below him seemed to be moving so much.
It seemed to last forever, people all over shouting and screaming, more and more eruptions drowning out his other senses. He didn't even notice as two pairs of hands grabbed him or the voice that yelled right next to his ear, "I'm fine! I'm fine! Sit him on the bench!...Miles?! Miles, can you hear me?"
It wasn't until he felt that warmth again, the strange electricity flowing through him, this time from his face, did the world begin to trickle back in through the fog. Blue eyes filled with worry came first… God, he could get lost in those eyes forever and never think twice about trying to find his way out...Then a hand on his cheek… her hand...her golden hair that looked like a halo around her face...soft, rouged lips… shoulders...and her quiet voice slowly registering…"Miles, it's okay… you're okay...just fireworks...home, you're safe...come back to us. Can you hear me? Miles?"
"Yeah...yeah, I-"
It's as far as he got before bolting from the bench and straight to a nearby trash can, vomiting his guts up. Body convulsing violently, he vaguely felt someone rubbing his back and neck, her voice still murmuring reassuringly near his ear.
"Fuck…" he rasped, throat raw and pain still shooting from his stomach in aftershocks. "What the hell…?"
"It was a flashback, from PTSD," she said as she and Ben- when the hell had Ben showed up?- helped him back to the bench. "It used to be called 'shell shock'. I've seen a couple of soldiers with it come in to see my dad."
"You're dad a shrink or something?" he asked, glancing up as a cup of water was pressed into his hand and he saw good ol' Dwayne there, looking almost as shaken as he was.
"No, a medical doctor, but this is really common in soldiers after they come back from war, Miles. Unexpected loud noises, smells, even certain words can cause it. Your instincts kicked in and you did what you were trained to do," she explained further. It wasn't so much her words that soothed him, but her tone. As he listened, focusing on every syllable and processing them, his body began to calm and the adrenaline started to fade.
Pieces of what had happened started to come back to him, too, and his eyes slowly went wide. When the first firework went off, he had jumped on top of her, crushing her below him in an attempt to block any debris or gunfire from hitting her, shielding her body with his. Head clearing, he finally noticed the dirt in her hair and on her clothes and he couldn't miss the small bruise forming under her collarbone from his not-so-gentle tackle. The hands that had grabbed him were Ben's and Dwayne's, it taking them both to pull him off of Rachel who was smothering below.
"Shit...I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't-"
"Hey, it's okay, Miles. In your mind, you were protecting me. Hell, I'm flattered," she quipped, trying unsuccessfully to ease his guilt. "To be honest, I'm surprised it hasn't happened to you or a friend of yours yet."
"No...I haven't seen…" Abruptly, he jumped to his feet, almost toppling over in the process- and would have if not for Ben and Dwayne catching him. "Bass...I've got to find Bass… Goddammit," he snapped and, shoving their hands away, he took off through the crowd, doing his best to search for the unmistakable blonde curls.
On the other side of the food stalls, a police siren sounded over the sound of voices yelling- one in particular. Without doubt, he raced over to the forming crowd to see Bass in the middle. He was swinging wildly at anyone that came near him, eyes glassy with the desert and enemies there instead of their quiet little town and families. A couple of Barney Fife wannabes were trying to get close enough to handcuff him, but Miles waved them off.
"BASS! BASS, STOP!" he shouted, stepping to his friend but receiving a blow to the side of his cheek for his efforts. "Dammit, Bass, stop! You're gonna hurt someone! For fuck's sake, Bass!" He then remembered what had pulled him out of his own nightmare just moments ago and lowered his voice. Quietly, he began to murmur, "Bass, it's okay. We're home, brother, and we're safe. Just listen to me, buddy, everything is okay. Come on, chill out and we can have a couple of cold beers and pick up a couple of good-looking girls, just like we always talked about in the barracks, remember? Come on, buddy, come back to us…"
He knew the second he'd gotten through. Bass's body went very still, his blue eyes clearing and looking around in utter lost confusion. Suddenly, he doubled over and retched up at least three beers in one hard heave. Glaring at the onlookers that were watching, Miles went to Bass's side and rubbed his friend's back gently until the convulsions had run their course.
"Come on, let's sit you down," he said and helped Bass over to the sidewalk, guiding him to the steps of a building. "Take it easy, buddy."
"God...What the fuck was that?" Bass gasped and Miles sat down beside him.
"Yeah, I just had the same thing…" he replied, looking up as Rachel and Ben approached them. Glancing at Bass warily, Rachel handed both men fresh cups of water and Bass took a swig before rinsing his mouth out.
"We spoke to the police, explained what happened. They understood," Ben said and Miles nodded to him.
"Thanks," he replied, sincerely but absently, his attention still on a pale, shaking Bass. "We should probably call it a night. I don't think either of us are up to more of this."
"Why don't you stay at mom's tonight with us? We can give you a ride, and we'll drop you off at your parents' place, Bass," Ben offered and, even though neither man was good company or wanted to be around people anymore that night, they agreed. The flashbacks had shaken them both and, while Miles wouldn't admit it infront of anyone other than Bass, the thought of driving scared him. He couldn't imagine that happening while doing 60 miles per hour down the highway. He'd probably wreck and kill them both. So, with their help, he and Bass followed them to their car and climbed in.
As in every small town, news traveled impossibly fast and by the time they had dropped Bass off and gotten home, their mom had heard about the 'episodes.'" It took Miles nearly an hour to convince her that he was okay before she'd let him go upstairs to what used to be his room and crash for the night.
Exhausted as he was, he expected to sleep like a rock until morning, but the psyche is a fickle thing. At some point, too late to be evening and too early to be morning, he woke covered in sweat and biting back a scream. He'd had nightmares before, especially since returning from war, but this mixed with the- what had she called it?- the flashback from earlier and he was up and in the bathroom a second later. Stomach churning and threatening a repeat performance from earlier, he waited for his heart to calm and stomach to settle. Rinsing cold water over his face to wash away the sweat and traces of spit, he returned to bed. He laid there for 15 minutes before admitting to the futility of laying there and he knew only one thing would help him sleep.
Creeping downstairs so as to not wake anyone, he went to the kitchen and found the bottle of whiskey his mother kept in the cupboard (for cooking only, she swore whenever Miles or Ben teased her about it.) Glass in hand, he poured a generous amount and swigged half of it back in one burning gulp, glad his mom cooked with the good stuff.
"Care for some company?" asked a quiet voice and he spun around to see Rachel in the doorway. Insisting on being respectful in their mother's house, she had taken the small guest room downstairs, apart from Ben.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to wake you," he muttered, turning away for a second. She was dressed in short shorts and an oversized t-shirt that hung off one shoulder and his body was responding to the sight against his will. Reaching for another glass, he held it up without looking at her. "Want one?"
"Gonna need more than one to make that mattress comfortable," she replied and he snorted, pouring her a fair amount. Without discussion, they mutually sat down at the table and tipped their glasses in an unspoken toast. After a couple of sips, she looked over at him. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Not really. I'll just avoid fireworks for the rest of my life, I guess," he said with a sardonic smile.
"What about the nightmare?" she asked after a beat and he frowned at her in mild surprise. "Your room is above mine. I could hear moaning and then you came downstairs… I just put two and two together."
"So, you're good at math. No wonder Ben likes you," he replied and she grinned, letting him change the subject.
"He is a great guy. I care about him a lot." The words cut him but he kept his face neutral as he nodded.
"Good. That's good," he grunted and took another large gulp of whiskey. He had seen how Ben had looked at her, he knew there was a very good possibility that she would be his sister-in-law someday, and therefore knew he would inevitably learn more about them as a couple. But there was no sense in torturing himself further that night and, thankfully, she didn't seem inclined to share anymore than that.
"So, tell me about playing the guitar," she said and he pounced on the subject.
For the next hour, they discussed music, which naturally led into movies and other forms of entertainment. He was surprised to find they had similar tastes, at least until it came to books. Rachel loved scientific journals, research papers, history and only the occasional trashy novel (admitted with a slight blush that made him grin). Miles liked… anything he didn't have to read. They had laughed quietly over the last of the whiskey, both vowing to replace the stash before his mom discovered its absence.
With only the slightest of stumbles, they walked to the bottom of the stairs, the crossroads of their respective rooms. Facing her with a stupid grin that he could only blame on the liquor, he looked into her eyes and suddenly felt the air sucked from the room. CLICK Once more, the light switch had been flicked and a palpable energy crackled between them as they stared. He could do it. She was barely two feet away, close enough that he could see her lips twitch with the same thought, close enough that he could just reach out and see if her hair was as soft and silky as he imagined it would feel between his fingers. They could blame the alcohol, no one would ever need to know...But, instead, he took a step back, almost falling on the bottom step.
"Goodnight, Rachel," he said quietly, righting himself with as much grace as he could muster. "And, uh, thanks for the company." Reaching out, she touched his arm lightly- a show of support? Steadying herself? Or maybe just to touch him like he wanted to touch her. He would never know.
"Goodnight, Miles," she murmured and he watched her disappear into her room before traipsing up the stairs and falling into bed. This time, gone were the mortar shells and sand, replaced by silky strands of hair, bright, blue eyes, and a soft voice calling to him.
Chapter 2- Family
"...went back to her place, opened another bottle of wine, and-"
"Bass, I don't wanna hear the details of you bangin' some chick." Miles groused, sniffing a bottle of orange juice before pouring himself a glass. Considering it was nearly noon, he could almost have gotten away with adding a splash of vodka, but his liver was still pissed at him for the night before, so he passed.
"I'm just sayin', she was one very fine lady. Very respectable, reserved… and flexible," Bass added with a wink and Miles didn't bother hiding his eye roll.
From what he could remember of the night before, it had started fairly benign. They had only planned on having a couple of drinks before returning to the apartment and getting ready for an exam they had the next day. Bass was dreading it, never having been much of a student to begin with, and even Miles was just ready for it to be over. Once completed, they would be free for a week from classes before the next round started. Two more semesters of this crap and they would be able to apply for E-6, and then it would just be a waiting game until they were commissioned. But, the best laid plans and all that… Two girls had walked in and almost immediately started giving them looks that practically screamed "Sex Here!" and, several drinks and one annoying hickey later, Miles left Bass with the blonde and politely declined what might have been a mildly interesting night with the brunette in favor of stumbling home to study.
He's made it through exactly 2 pages before passing out on the couch.
"That's great, Bass. Now get dressed. We need to get to base before the test," he said and chucked the last of the juice in the trash. Yeah, that was definitely bad.
"Oh shit, I totally forgot about the test!" Bass groaned and ran off to his room to try to wash the stench of cigarettes, booze, and sex off of him. Miles could only shake his head and then look over at the knock that sounded on the door. Walking over, he threw open the door, expecting to see the blonde from last night there, asking for her panties back. But instead, he was met by two somber looking police officers.
"Uh, can I help you?"
"Is Sergeant Sebastian Monroe here?" one officer asked and Miles mentally groaned. Fuck, what the hell did Bass do after he left last night? The girl looked like she was well over 18…
"Yeah, he's getting dressed. Can I help you with something?" he asked.
"Are you his roommate?"
"Yeah, Sergeant Miles Matheson. He's my friend. Why?" he replied and saw the two officers exchange looks.
"We'd like for you to stay while we talk to Sergeant Monroe, please. I think he is going to need you to be here." With that cryptic request, Miles nodded and went to hurry Bass along. Without knocking, he opened Bass's door.
"Hey, forget the shower. Get out here, there's a couple of cops," he said and Bass's eyes went wide.
"She said she was 20!"
"Just get out here!"
A second later, both men returned to the front room and Miles let the officers inside.
"Look, she said she was 20. I know, I should have checked, but-"
"Sergeant, this has nothing to do with a girl. Please, have a seat. I'm afraid something has happened…" the officer said and Bass sat down as asked.
CLICK. There went that damn light switch again.
The next 5 minutes were a blur for Miles. Only a few words actually registered in his mind…"accident...family...drunk driver...died instantly...managed to get into surgery...died before we could contact you...our condolences…" Miles was numb with the shock and sank to the sofa beside Bass as the other man slowly began to weep, then cry, then wail. The two officers let themselves out, not that Miles or Bass noticed. Miles crushed his friend in his arms and Bass shattered into a million pieces.
William Monroe had always been a hard man, rarely giving affection to anyone- certainly not his son- though no one had ever doubted his love for his family. Bass, and Miles by default, had grown up being taught that family was the most important thing a man could have and that his ultimate job was to protect those he loved, no matter what. Miles had never looked at William as a second father, though he did greatly respect him, but Gail Monroe had always and would forever be a second mother to him. When Anna Matheson would have to work late at the dress shop, Gail always made sure that Miles and Ben were watched over and fed, just as Anna would look out for Bass on the rare occasions he needed tending. The two families were practically inseparable due to their offsprings' bond, and when the Monroe twin girls had come along when Bass was 10 (a surprise for everyone), the Mathesons celebrated just as much at their births. Miles grew up seeing the two girls as his own little sisters and, unlike his biological brother, had loved and doted on them as much as Bass did. Angie and Cynthia were only 15… would forever and always be 15… and Miles was as devastated as Bass at the loss.
It had taken him hours to get Bass off the floor, his own numbness to the tragedy a benefit as it helped him focus on his friend instead of his own pain. Once the tears had slowed, he had helped Bass to his feet and guided him to the shower, hoping the water would calm him slightly. Stripping him down, he placed him under the spray, but Bass was too catatonic to stand on his own. Before he could slip down the shower walls, Miles stepped into the stall and held him, not caring that he was still fully clothed and getting soaked in the process. After 10 minutes, and seeing no change in Bass, Miles gave up and turned off the water before it could turn cold.
Haphazardly packing them a few clothes, barely looking at what he threw into the bags, he helped Bass to the car and took off. The drive to Evanston was made in silence, both processing the news. Miles was almost grateful to be driving, the tiny bit of distraction helping him mentally absorb and organize. Bass had no other relatives as far as Miles knew, the only uncle he had ever met long deceased, which meant Bass would have to plan the funerals all on his own. They both had been to funerals before- Miles to his fathers and a great aunt's when he was 6, and both he and Bass had been to more comrades's funerals than they cared to remember- but neither had ever had to actually plan for something like this. Neither had any idea where to even begin.
Taking the long way around so as to avoid Bass's parents' house for the time being, he went straight to his mother's. Naturally, she already had heard the news and as Miles had led Bass inside, Anna scooped the young man into her arms and wept with him. Seeing the two made Miles uncomfortable, so he set to calling those that wouldn't have heard the news yet (He also called the base to let their instructor know what had happened, gaining an extension for their final). A few friends of the family he could remember having moved, an old pastor that had been part of their church long ago, and Ben. To his credit, Ben had broken down upon hearing of the loss- his love for the Monroes as strong as Miles', and immediately said that he was coming in. As emotionally drained as Miles already was (and, God, it was only noon), he barely noticed Ben say that he would bring Rachel with him.
The rest of the day was a blur for all involved and Miles was sure none of them would have survived it without his mother. He could only watch with detached admiration as she held Bass's hand, took care of all funeral arrangements, made plans for after the mass, and still managed to make all of them eat. She became everything for everyone and Miles had never felt more love and gratitude for her than in those dark days.
Ben and Rachel had arrived later that afternoon and were immediately put to work. Ben was in charge of notifying the local newspapers, Rachel making arrangements for flowers, and Miles was given the soul-crushing task of going to the house to prepare it for guests and pick out clothes for the deceased. He had known the Monroes the best, she reasoned, and would be able to figure out what they might have wanted as their final clothes. His dread must have shown on his face, so he was more than glad when Rachel offered to help (she probably had a better understanding of what teenage girls would wear, anyway). With a grateful nod, Miles had let her into the car and they headed into town.
"Thanks for coming with Ben and helping," he muttered so as not to be rude and to fill the silence.
"Of course. Ben told me how close you all were," she replied and he nodded.
"Yeah...we were," he grunted and, not knowing what else to say- or at least not ready to say it- he let the conversation drop.
They stopped at the flower shop first where Miles stood by and let Rachel take over. As he stood, staring at the cheerful bouquets of flowers and half-listening to Rachel and the shopkeeper talk, he noticed a single, tiny flower that had come loose and fallen to the floor. He wasn't sure why, probably would never understand, but seeing that one flower alone and forgotten was his undoing.
Without a word, he walked out of the store and into the stale summer air. Needing to walk, to do something-anything- he went down the alley between the buildings and stared at the grimy brick wall in front of him. Anger rose within him, the unfairness of it all. He and his fellow soldiers were one thing- they knew their risks and were willing to die for their cause. But, the Monroes hadn't deserved this, to be taken out because of one stupid fucker's idea to drive after boozing it up. The only justice was that the idiot had died in the accident, too.
Miles knew there was nothing that they could have done, neither he nor Bass had even been in town, but he still felt like he had somehow failed them. It was that last desperate guilt that sent his hand flying into the red brick wall with a crack, followed swiftly by a curse. Leaning forward, he rested his head on the wall, taking long, deep breaths as his hand throbbed. The pain seemed to help in some kind of sick way- a release, a punishment, he wasn't sure and didn't really care as long as it pushed the emotions away. The sound of a shoe scuffing the pavement nearby made him look up and he saw Rachel standing at the end of the alley, watching him warily.
"I'm fine," he grunted hoarsely and she nodded without commenting. "Did you finish?"
"Yeah, everything is taken care of," she replied and he slowly walked on two shaky legs past her. "We should probably hold off on going to the house today. Or I can go alone and get everything read-"
"No. I want to get it over with and I want to do it myself, for Bass," he said firmly and she looked at his bloody hand. "I'll be fine." With that, they walked back around the corner. Rachel went to the car, but Miles stopped and stared at the storefront for a long minute, thinking of that flower. He wanted to cry, needed to cry, but the tears just wouldn't come. Everything was just numb.
"Miles?" Rachel murmured quietly and he shook his head. Rounding the car, he slid into the driver's seat. Noticing her eyes staring at his hand again, he reached under the seat where he knew a cloth was. He shoved the gun he kept there aside, snatched the cloth up and wrapped it around his torn knuckles. He could feel her concern still there, but wasn't in the mood to acknowledge it. As he sped off, his knuckles were still oozing the red drops of self-hatred.
The day of the funerals were every bit the nightmare that one would expect them to be. With Anna's guidance, Bass had opted for one funeral for all four of his family members at once, something Miles was thankful for. He wasn't sure any of them could have gotten through four separate services.
He'd made a quick trip back to the apartment to pick up their uniforms, something Bass said had always made his parents proud, but otherwise he stuck to his best friend like glue. With all the arrangements having been handled by Anna, Ben, and Rachel, all Miles needed to focus on was getting Bass through the day in one piece. The other man had barely spoken to anyone, even his best friend, since they'd arrived back in town and Miles' concern was growing. They had never had a problem sharing with each other- after all the years and battles and life in general, there was no point in secrets or stupid machismo bullshit. Miles knew Bass would snap eventually, it was only a matter of time.
The funeral itself was standing room only, the Monroes well-known and liked by everyone around. Bass barely made it through and more than once, Miles saw him glance back to make sure that he was still there. Ever since that first rescue behind the school in 3rd grade, Bass seemed to have a deep seated inner need for Miles to be nearby. And on that day of all day, Miles wasn't going to let him down. He stood by as mourners passed them, offering their condolences to a stiff, silent Bass, with Miles right beside him. It was how they lived and fought together- always side by side and looking out for each other.
When it was over, they went back to the house quietly. Miles could see Bass was running on fumes, so he put him in his room to rest for a bit before heading downstairs for some coffee. Ben and Rachel were in the Monroe kitchen, putting away dishes and various foods that always seemed a staple after funerals. Ah, small town life, where people thought of food as the best way to console someone. Like a morbid, reverse party gift.
For a moment, Miles stood unnoticed in the doorway and just watched them; how they seemed so perfectly in sync with each other, moving around like a choreographed dance involving string bean casseroles and pies. He had to admit they looked good together, they looked "right," and a shot of guilt went through him as he saw the genuine affection, and possibly love, between the two.
"Hey, um… I'm gonna go to Mom's for a bit- get in a shower and out of this uniform," he said and they both nodded understandingly. "Keep an eye on Bass, will ya?"
"Of course," Rachel replied and he left.
Their houses were only a block apart and, needing the air to clear his head, he decided to leave his car there and walk home. Memories flooded him as he strolled- the flowers in Mrs. Well's yard that he had once picked for Emma, the fencepost Bass had crashed against with his bike and had to spend an afternoon fixing before his mother would let him play, the path that led into the woods where they played everything from G. to cowboys and indians. God, life seemed so much simpler then… It tore at Miles' heart and he had to shake his head. The day had been depressing enough without his mind providing more melancholy thoughts for him.
Walking in his house, he saw his mother at the kitchen sink, washing a few dishes left over from breakfast. Again, he stood in the doorway, unnoticed for a time as he watched her. The thought of Bass never being able to see his mother again brought back the ache and, without a word, he walked over and pulled her into a hug.
"Miles, I didn't know you were coming back tonight," Anna said against his chest. He always got a kick out of how much shorter she was compared to him. Ben had gotten more her height while Miles, a healthy 6'2", was closer to their father's. "I thought you were staying at Bass's."
"Needed to change and… I wanted to see you again," he admitted, still hugging her and she returned the hug back tightly, stroking his shaggy hair soothingly. She knew what was going through his mind and, military man or not, he was still her little boy. For a long time, they stood in the middle of the kitchen until Miles finally stood and wiped his eyes roughly.
"Want some coffee?" she asked, letting him pretend that she hadn't seen his tears. After her sweet John had passed, he had become the man of the house and she couldn't remember a time that he had cried since.
"No, I need to get back to Bass. I'm really worried about him," he replied and she nodded. Leaning over, he kissed her cheek softly before heading upstairs.
A half hour later, he waved goodbye to her and headed back down the street, spirits still low but better. He and Bass would be staying in town another couple of days while Bass figured out what to do with the family home and belongings for the time being, so he wasn't worried about seeing her again the next day. He and the others had begged Bass to stay at Anna's for the night, trying to convince him that it wasn't healthy to be submerged in the memories around him, but he had quietly declined.
Walking into the house, he found Rachel and Ben on the sofa, going through a photo album from when they were all kids. Even Miles wasn't so hard and numb that he didn't crack a grin when Ben showed him a picture from someone's birthday party- Ben's maybe? Miles wasn't sure now- where paint had been involved. You could barely tell who was who under the bright colors, only crooked smiles and happy eyes showing from beneath. It was the only time Bass's hair had ever laid flat on his head...especially once the paint had dried. It was also the first crew cut they had all received.
"I'm gonna check on Bass," he said and headed up the stairs to the room he was so familiar with. Unlike his own in his mother's house, Gail Monroe had kept her son's room exactly as he had left it- if a little neater- and Miles touched the sign on the door with reverence before entering. "BASS'S ROOM. NO GIRLS ALLOWED." It had been posted as a joke before they had left for the Marines, the twins spending almost as much time in there as Bass had. Swallowing hard, Miles quietly opened the door...and found the room empty. Checking the bathroom, then the other rooms, his gut started to twist.
"Miles? What's wrong?" Rachel asked as he ran down the stairs and looked through the other rooms, seeing no sign of Bass.
"Bass is gone," he said through gritted teeth.
"What? We didn't see him leave," Ben said. "He must have slipped out. We'll go looking for him."
"Go towards town, to the movie theater. Maybe he… maybe he wanted to see where…" Miles trailed off, but it was really just a distraction. He knew as well as they did where the young man was. "Keep your phone on, just in case." And with that, he ran out the door to his car. Finding the rag he had used for his hand a couple of days ago, a thought came to him and, head spinning with unanswered prayers, he reached under his seat and found the gun missing… CLICK
{GRAVEYARD SCENE FROM SHOW}
An hour later, he and Bass walked into Anna's house. Miles had sent Ben a text letting him know that Bass was okay and they were on the way to the Matheson household (no way was Miles taking him back to his house), but it was obvious to everyone in the room that the only surviving Monroe was anything but okay. Miles glanced meaningfully at his brother and set the gun on the table, an unspoken conversation passing between them before he continued to lead Bass up to his old room. Once they were up the stairs, Ben took the gun and locked it away in a closet.
Up in the room, Miles guided Bass to the bed and laid him down before gently removing his boots and socks. Emotionally exhausted and with the liquor for once helping the situation, Bass quickly drifted off and Miles dropped into the chair on the other side of the room. He watched his friend sleep for a while, making sure he was truly out before descending the stairs again.
"Your mom already went to bed," Rachel said as he walked into the living room and sat down on the sofa heavily. He could hear Ben in the kitchen, making coffee. Reaching over, she touched his arm. "You okay?"
"What do you think?" he snapped tiredly, regretting his tone immediately as she pulled her hand away. "Sorry… Yeah, I'm fine, I guess. I'm just glad I found him before…"
"Me, too," she murmured to his surprise. She barely knew Bass, had only met him once at the barbeque, and that was hardly a great first impression. Still, she seemed as concerned about him as the rest of them were and he appreciated it.
"I think we are going to head back in the morning," he said, looking over as Ben walked back into the room with the coffees. "The house and everything can wait and I think it would be best for Bass if we got out of here for a while. We can deal with the legal crap later, once he's gotten his bearings a bit."
"That's probably a good idea. Mom said that Gail had once told her that the house was already paid for, so there isn't a mortgage to pay. Bass can take his time and do things as he is comfortable," Ben said and Miles nodded. At least it was one less thing to worry about. Lost in his thoughts for a moment, he missed the look exchanged between Ben and Rachel, how he nodded but she shook her head. "I don't know if this is really a good time, we were going to wait for a while to tell anyone, but I figured you could use something positive…" Ben started and took Rachel's hand in his as Miles looked up. "We already told Mom, though, and we wanted you to be the next to hear… Rachel and I are getting married."
CLICK
"Mar….Married?" Miles almost choked on the word and Ben nodded joyfully. So, he didn't lose his best friend, only the woman he was pining away for. Consolation prize, he figured?
"We haven't set a date or anything, I only asked last week, but we wanted you to know as soon as we could. Of course, once we set a date, I will let you know. You'll be my best man, right?" Ben asked and Miles felt like he was having another flashback- stomach churning, head spinning, the need to take cover and scream. But, as he looked between his brother and, he swallowed hard, his future sister-in-law, he nodded slowly.
"Yeah… Um… Congratulations, you two," he managed and, standing, gave his little brother a stiff hug. Parting from him, he turned to Rachel and felt his heart drop from his chest. "Welcome to the family." Somehow, he managed to hide the roughness from his voice, but as he hugged her- feeling her warmth spread through his dimly, that warmth that had pulled him from the pit of despair last time now only driving him further into the ground- he could hear a grinding of teeth. He just wasn't sure which one of them it was coming from.
Chapter 3: Booze and Confessions
"Okay, the turkey is basted and should be ready in about an hour, potatoes are mashed and cooking, beans are cooking, cranberry sauce is chilling…"
"Table is set," Ben called from the living room as he sat, watching the Thanksgiving Parade.
"Do you think we have enough beer and wine?" she asked, glancing in the fridge of their small apartment.
"Probably not, but I am sure Miles and Bass will be bringing their own," he replied and she nodded, doing her level best to ignore the tiny flutter low in her stomach at the idea that she would be seeing Miles again. They had invited him, Bass, and Anna over to their place for the holiday on the premise that they didn't think Bass would want to spend Thanksgiving near his family's home. In truth, they wanted to spare Anna from the job of cooking the large meal, both having noticed that her health was declining in recent months. Ben was particularly worried about her and was even playing with the idea of having her move in with them in the next year. It would mean a tighter living space, but it would also mean she would get to see Miles more often.
She knew she had to get past this stupid, schoolgirl crush she had on her future brother-in-law, but it was hard to when she felt herself becoming flushed just at the mention of his name. She hadn't been immune to the strange warmth that had spread through her when their eyes had met that night at the barbeque and Miles hadn't been the only one that night to resist the urge to kiss while standing at the bottom of the stairs. Her lips had tingled just at the thought, but she had settled for simply touching his arm and forcing herself to walk into her room. Her cheeks had flushed red when she realized that she was more than a little turned on by him and it took several minutes, along with repeating several old trigonometry equations, before she had calmed enough to sleep.
When she had watched from a few feet away as he tried to put his hand through the brick wall, she had again felt herself resisting the urge to go to him, only this time it was for very different reasons. There was no doubt in her mind that there were a lot of layers to this man, more than she suspected she could discover in a lifetime. He had clearly been upset about his best friend's family, but had shut himself down and refused to acknowledge his grief. She had wanted to hug him, let him know he wasn't alone, but once she saw the darkness in his eyes, she had fallen silent. Unlike Ben, he wasn't one for being coddled, and she respected that, but his obvious self-hatred scared her, too.
A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts and, straightening her slacks and shirt, she watched as Ben answered. Sure enough, as Miles and Bass walked in, she saw Bass carrying a 12 pack of beer. Tucked under each of Miles' arms, like twins in brown paper bags, were two more bottles, one liquor and one wine- a boy and a girl. The men shared quick, stiff hugs and Ben went to his mother (whom Miles and Bass had picked up and brought with them). Miles led Bass to the kitchen and gave Rachel a strained, almost forced smile.
"I hope this is okay," he said, indicating the bottle of red wine.
"This is perfect. Thank you," she replied. The moment was awkward between them, their eyes meeting from what seemed like a thousand miles away. They hadn't spoken since the night he had brought Bass home from the graveyard, the men getting up and leaving early the next morning. She had a suspicion that Miles only wanted to leave so early because of Ben's announcement of their engagement, made against her will. Somehow, it had felt wrong telling him. At the time, she had brushed it off as stupid timing- why would Ben want to tell him something like that in the wake of such a tragedy?- but deep down, she knew it was more. Still, she had resolutely pushed the feeling out of her mind and returned home with her fiance the next afternoon.
"Where would you like these?" Bass asked, barging in on the moment and Rachel mentally gave herself a shake.
"Uh, the counter by the fridge is fine. I've already got some cold beer in the fridge," she replied and tore herself away from Miles' gaze, busying herself with the turkey once more just for something to do. Listening as the two cracked open a couple of cans, she glanced back to see them head for the living room...Only once did Miles's eyes flick back to meet hers again.
"That was absolutely lovely, Rachel," Anna said a few hours later as she pushed her plate away. "You have yourself quite a cook here, Benjamin."
"Yeah, she is going to fatten me up pretty fast, I think," Ben grinned proudly, patting his very full stomach.
"Yeah, you're gonna have her barefoot and pregnant in the kitchen before you know it," Miles said, an edge of snideness to his words. He and Bass had been matched drink for drink during dinner and no one doubted that they were feeling pretty high at the moment.
"Have you two discussed having children?" Anna asked, either because she didn't notice Miles' rudeness or, more likely, to cover for it.
"Oh, I think we are going to wait a while. Rachel just got a new job at the, uh, local high school and I don't even have tenure, yet. Besides, we want to just enjoy each other for a while," Ben replied, ignoring a snort from his brother beside him. "We have plenty of time to start a family, Mom."
"Of course, of course, but you can't blame a woman for wanting grandkids, can you?" Anna asked with a laugh.
"Well, at least you know when they do come along, they'll be math whizzes," Bass said, not quite as rude as Miles but they knew it was still a tiny dig at Ben's prized intelligence. "I mean, with two Algebra teachers for parents, they'll be the biggest eggheads around, right?"
"I guess we will see what they are like once the time comes," Rachel said quietly and tried to change the subject. "So, how are your classes going? You should only have one semester left now, right?"
"Dropped out," Miles answered bluntly and his family blinked in shock. "Figured it was a waste of time, anyway. Bass and I are better used for bomb fodder."
"Miles, don't say that," Anna gasped, visibly upset at her eldest son's words. In response, he just took another swig of whiskey.
"Hey, Miles, maybe you should lighten up on that stuff," Ben suggested tersely and saw dark, almost black eyes glare back at him as the glass was raised again, this time in slow defiance. "Come on, we're just trying to have a nice time. Can't you-"
"What, Ben? Can't I what?" Miles challenged, slamming the glass down onto the table. "You want me to sit here and listen to how you're going to knock your girlfriend- sorry, your fiance- up and how your life is just so fucking perfect? Boring chit chat that none of us give a damn about-"
"What the hell is your problem?" Ben asked, finally letting his hackles go up as he stood and faced his brother.
"Boys, please. Don't fight," Anna pleaded.
"No, I am not going to sit here and have him throw how perfect he is in my face anymore! I'm sick of it!" Miles snapped, standing with a dangerous wobble. "You've got a nice, safe little job, you've got a nice little home, you've got the perfect girl; why don't you rub it in a little more, Ben?"
"What are you talking about?! I'm just an Algebra teacher! And Rachel is far from perfect, but-"
CLICK
He never got to finish his sentence as Miles' hand slammed into his mouth and he dropped beside the table, blood spouting from his lip.
"MILES! STOP!" Rachel and Anna both yelled, horrified by what was happening. Even Bass was mildly surprised at how fast the argument had escalated, though he was on his feet and standing beside Miles a second later, holding him back.
"Easy there, Rocky," he said, arm around Miles' chest from behind.
"Get off me," Miles snapped and shook loose. "I have put up with this shit from Mom and everyone else all my life, ever since you were born! How smart Ben is, how perfect Ben is, it's such a shame Miles isn't like that, and now you're rubbing it all in my face? Well, I'm done! Go, have your perfect little life!"
"Miles, wait! Please!" Anna cried as he stormed out of the apartment. Bass followed, but paused at the door and looked back, wanting to say something, but having no idea what. With a shake of his head, he followed his friend out and quietly shut the door behind him.
"Miles! Hey, man, wait up!" he yelled, half running, half stumbling to catch up. Grabbing his friend by the jacket, he spun him around, both of them almost falling over in the process. "What the hell was that about?"
"I don't need to put up with that shit!" Miles yelled. "I'm sick of it, Bass! I'm sick of watching him succeed at everything while I just..." It was the last part that clicked in Bass's mind.
"Is that what this is about? Us quitting those classes?" Bass asked and though Miles shook his head, he looked away. "Buddy, if it is that important to you, we can start them again."
"I don't give a fuck about the classes, Bass," he said, still not meeting his friend's eyes.
"Hey, I know you only quit because I couldn't hack it. You know how losing my family messed me up and knew that I was never going to be able to finish, but that doesn't mean you can't continue," Bass murmured but Miles shook his head. "If it's bothering you that much, just go back. Don't go knocking your brother's teeth out over it."
"That's not why I hit him," Miles said, his voice going quiet, and Bass frowned in confusion. "It was because of Rachel…"
"Rachel? What about her?" he asked and Miles paced a bit in front of him, running his hands through his hair.. Realization dawning, Bass groaned. "Oh man, don't tell me you have feelings for her. You gotta be kidding."
"I'm a fucking moron…" Miles sighed, scrubbing his face hard.
"Gotta tell ya, brother, it's hard to argue with that. She's your brothers fiance for fuck's sake!" Bass pointed out needlessly. A memory of a night in a kitchen, of a certain girl's arms around him as his best friend, her fiance, slept in the next room was quickly pushed aside.
"You think I don't know that?! You think I haven't tried getting her out of my head?! But ever since that night, at the barbeque, she is all I think about!" Miles snapped, then took a breath. "I told myself to forget her, that she loves Ben and they are going to live happily ever after and all that bullshit. But, then when they started talking about having kids and their life together, I realized that it was the life I wanted and would never have. Then Ben said she wasn't perfect and… I just lost it."
"Yeah...I don't suppose you've talked to Rachel about this," Bass muttered and, seeing the "really?" look Miles shot him, he nodded. "Maybe you should. You never know-"
"No. I can't do that to Ben. He's family, my brother…"Miles grumbled, shaking his head before staring down the sidewalk back towards where they had come from. "What am I gonna do, Bass?"
"I don't know, brother, but… whatever you do, I've got your back." At that, Miles nodded slowly, an unspoken thanks in the action. "But, I suggest you go back up there and apologize."
"No, I can't. Let's just go-"
"Miles, dammit… You owe Ben an apology and, take it from someone who wishes he could apologize to his family for a lot of things, you need to do this. You never know what could happen, so don't let this hang between you guys, no matter what you feel about Rachel." Miles saw the pain in his friend's blue eyes and sighed, knowing he was right.
"Yeah, alright… come on," he breathed and they made their way back to the apartment.
"Miles…" Rachel said, her voice ice cold while daggers shot from her eyes. He could see just past her into the apartment, Ben sitting on the sofa, an ice pack to his mouth, and there wasn't enough liquor still in his system to dull the guilt. Apparently, fantasizing about his brother's fiance was a sin, but punching the man's lights nearly out wasn't. Go figure. Behind him, he felt Bass pat his shoulder supportively.
"Can I come in?" he asked quietly and she crossed her arms over her chest.
"I don't know that I want you in my house. Are you going to punch Ben again or are you going to act like a sane human being?" she challenged and he sighed.
"Look, I want to apologize to you both, and Mom," he replied. It was obvious that the last thing she wanted to do was let him anywhere near his own brother, not that he could blame her, and he couldn't help but secretly admire her protectiveness. But, with a grudging nod, she stepped aside and let him in. Behind him, she and Bass exchanged looks, hers warning him that he better help control Miles and his promising to do just that.
"Miles," Anna said with relief as he walked over to them.
"Mom, I'm sorry for what I said and how I acted. I guess I just had had too much to drink and you know how stupid I can get sometimes," he murmured,shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking on his heels like he had done when he had been caught painting the neighbor's garage. Kneeling beside her, he gazed at her apologetically and she ran her fingers through his thick hair like she had done when he was a boy. It was all the forgiveness he would ever need from her.
Turning his attention to his brother, he saw the wariness in the other man's eyes. "Ben, I was an idiot and I'm sorry, not just for punching you but for what I said, and for ruining dinner." He added the last part for Rachel's sake as well and, though she clearly wasn't ready to forgive so easily, he saw her nod in acceptance. Thankfully, his brother was the kind to forgive fairly quickly. Would he forgive you for stealing his girl, though? His mind asked and he forced it to shut up as Ben reached his hand out like an olive branch and the two shook.
"It's okay, Miles. Just...take it easy on the booze for the rest of the night, huh?" Ben replied and Miles cracked a grin, relieved to be back on track at least for the time being.
"Yeah… As long as the Seahawks don't lose," he said and Ben chuckled. Grabbing the remote, they turned on the football game and sat down to watch. Rachel and Anna could only shake their heads in dull amazement, never understanding how men could be ready to kill each other one second and be cheering for the same team and sharing high fives the next.
CLICK
CHAPTER 4: Grease Lightning and Coal
"What about a corsage?" Bass asked and Miles raised an eyebrow at him. "What? That's something you gave to Emma."
"That was for prom, moron," Miles growled and continued walking. Bass knew better than to take his friend's foul mood personally. They'd been walking through the store for over an hour, trying to find suitable gifts for people. So far, Miles had chosen a shaving kit for Ben, a crockpot for his mom (which Bass paid half for so he could put his name on the card), and now they were wandering around, trying to find something for Rachel.
With Christmas in only two days, it was slim pickings for the duo. Miles had been working hard to keep Bass's spirits up, going so far as to decorate their apartment and even buying a small, Charlie Brown-esque Christmas tree. With Anna's health deteriorating further, they'd agreed to spare her the travel and have Christmas at her place, but Miles knew his friend was dreading the trip. Bass had finally broken down and hired movers to clear out his family's home and put the house on the market. It had nearly killed him to do it, but he just couldn't justify keeping the place and paying the taxes on it. Still, all three offers that had been made had been swiftly and firmly shot down and Miles knew it was going to be a while before Bass would let it go.
"What about a knife set? Chicks dig cooking stuff, right?" Miles asked, pausing by a display of shiny cutlery.
"Maybe, but you better hope she isn't still pissed over the whole Thanksgiving mess," Bass pointed out and Miles nodded, continuing on.
He wondered if enough time had passed that she'd forgiven him, though he was far from hopeful. Even though he and Ben had made up and moved on while they were there, her goodbye to him had been cool to say the least. He figured a nice Christmas gift would go a long way in getting in her good graces again.
"Dude, just pick something! I'm getting hungry," Bass whined and Miles rolled his eyes.
For the third time on their neverending circuit of the store, his gaze fell on the sparkling display cases. He'd avoided them at first, feeling it might be too weird, but becoming desperate, he finally walked over to them. Bass, for once, wisely remained silent, juggling the bags in his arms as Miles looked over the selection. He wanted something nice, something personal, but something that wouldn't get his block knocked off by his brother, either. That meant diamonds were out, and anything with a heart was definitely a no-go. Forcing his way past the rings, he stopped at the final case, eyes landing on exactly what he needed. Quickly paying the lady behind the counter, and ignoring Bass's increased whining as it was gift-wrapped, he shoved the box in his pocket and walked away.
"Hey! Why am I carrying all the damn bags?!" Bass snapped, following him out.
"There's my other two boys," Anna said, pulling first Miles and then Bass into warm hugs. "We were about to start dinner without you."
"Sorry, traffic was bad," Miles replied, moving past her into the house.
"Yeah, and Miles had to get his precious hair just right," Bass added, snickering as Miles flipped him off from behind his mother's back. He had started using some gel in it in an effort to control the curls that liked to come out when he let it go long.
"Well, I think it looks very nice, Miles- much better than when you just let it go wherever it wanted," she said, turning to her son who quickly dropped his hand. "It reminds me of your father's hair back in the 50's. He was what they call a 'greaser,' and I always thought he looked very handsome."
"Thanks, Mom," Miles muttered, then looked at Bass. "Come on, let's put these under the tree."
"After you, Grease Lightning."
"Oh, shut up."
"Boys, don't start!" Anna warned but couldn't help but grin at the two. "Hurry, Ben and Rachel are waiting on us!"
"Yes, Ma'am!" Both men replied in unison.
Handshakes and hugs went around as they entered the kitchen/dining room. With Ben, it was easy- the younger man having pushed aside the fight from a month ago in favor of peace. Rachel, however, was tougher. Miles saw the wariness in her eyes as he faced her and, though they hugged, it was merely polite and there was reservation in her lukewarm embrace. Still, as they hugged, he felt the warmth he'd come to crave wash over him and swore he heard a quiet sigh against his shoulder before they parted.
"You, uh… You look really nice, Rach," he said, hoping the compliment would pave the way to forgiveness.
"Thanks. I… like your hair like that," she replied and couldn't help but grin a second later at her own awkward response. It was enough to break the tension and he grinned stupidly back at her.
"Hey, Danny and Sandy, come on! Let's eat!" Bass said and this time Miles didn't bother hiding his hand gesture towards his friend.
"Miles, not on Christmas," Anna chastised and Bass grinned at Miles' glare.
"Yeah, if you're bad, Santa will bring you a lump of coal for your stocking."
"And guess where I'm gonna shove it."
"Boys!"
"Yes, Ma'am."
Dinner was thankfully uneventful, especially compared to the last meal they all had together. The others were glad to hear that Miles and Bass were reenlisting in classes after the new year and Ben shared that he and Rachel had set a date for the wedding. The stony look that crossed Miles' face was forced away by a swift kick under the table from Bass and Miles faked his way through a congratulations to the two. After that, he had fallen quiet, borderline brooding and not noticing how Rachel's eyes couldn't quite meet his.
With dinner finished, the group moved to the living room for coffee and gifts. Miles, wishing he had brought a flask to spike his coffee with, was caught like a deer in the headlights as Anna turned and pointed above him.
"Look, Miles and Rachel are under the mistletoe," she announced and both looked up to see the decorative plant over their heads.
Fuck.
Their eyes dropping to meet, they stared at each other for a second. He wasn't sure who was more embarrassed, but he did like how beautiful she was when she blushed.
"Go on, you two. Kiss," Anna pushed and Miles shifted awkwardly.
"Uh, why don't I let Ben-" He was trying. God help him, he was trying...
"Oh, don't be silly. It's tradition!" his mom chirped.
Fuck, fuck, fuck!
With no graceful way out of it, Miles leaned forward and kissed her cheek chastely, Rachel's hand going to his arm as he did so. To anyone else, it simply looked like a friendly, innocent kiss between a brother and sister-in-law. But as he leaned in, he breathed in her scent- something light and sweet, with just a hint of warmth that was simply her. As his lips brushed her cheek, he felt her hand squeeze his arm hard and knew that she'd felt the same shock of electricity he had at the touch. Wanting more, so much more, he pulled himself away and cleared his throat.
"Sorry about that," he muttered, not sure what it was he was apologizing for exactly, but feeling it needed to be said all the same.
"Don't be. It's just tradition," Rachel replied quietly and he could see her eyes dark with...was it longing? Surely he was imagining it. Before he could study her reaction further, she walked away and he watched Ben throw his arm around her, clueless. As they continued into the living room, Miles caught Bass's eye and saw pity.
The rubies covering the small pendant cast tiny sparkles over her face, adding to her natural glow. Her eyes filled with tears as he took the necklace and moved to stand behind her, slipping the gold chain around her neck. Clasping it with nimble fingers, he pressed a feather-soft kiss to her nape and felt her shiver at the touch. He slid his hands down her arms and gently turned her to face him, seeing pure, unconditional love in her sky blue eyes as she moved to press against him.
"It's beautiful, Miles," she murmured and he cupped her cheek, thumb stroking her skin softly. Slowly, he leaned in, pausing for the briefest of second to savor the moment before closing the distance between their lips and-
"Miles, I swear you must have our place bugged. I was just telling Rachel this morning that I needed a new razor," Ben said and Miles blinked hard as the vision faded away.
"Wha-Oh, uh...Good. Glad you like it," he said, focusing on his brother's face and ignoring the spike of guilt in his gut. It was bad enough he fantasized about her when he was alone, but now he was doing it right in front of Ben, and on Christmas for fuck's sake. He deserved a lot worse than a lump of coal…He was probably going to hell for this.
In reality, he'd watched from across the room as Rachel had opened the box and pulled out the necklace, the ruby-encrusted apple hanging from the end. She'd obviously been touched by the gift as her eyes had met his.
"Oh, that's lovely, Rachel. An apple because you're a teacher, how sweet," Anna said.
"That's really thoughtful, Miles. Who helped you pick it out?" Ben teased, knowing Miles normally was terrible at choosing gifts. Miles watched with fire in his eyes as his brother had leaned over and slid the necklace- his necklace- around Rachel's neck and clasped it.
"Bass. He, uh, picked it out for me," he muttered and took a swig of his coffee to cover his unfair rage.
"You've got great taste, Sebastian," Anna said and Bass, more than willing to take credit for the present, nodded in thanks.
"I think it's time for Miles' gift, don't you?" Ben said and Rachel nodded, her eyes still on the older of the brothers. Standing, Ben went to the closet and pulled out a large, familiar looking case and set it on the table in front of Miles. As Miles stared at the case, he set his coffee down and popped the locks. Opening it, he went still and swallowed hard. "I bought it back from Dwayne. I remember how much you loved it and, after seeing you at the barbeque, I thought you might want to have it back," Ben explained and Miles carefully picked up the guitar. Quietly, he added, "Merry Christmas, brother." Oh yeah, he was definitely going to hell…
"Thank you, both of you," Miles murmured, voice rough. "This...This is great. Really."
"Why don't you play something for us?" Anna suggested hopefully and, knowing he couldn't refuse, he nodded.
"Any requests?" he quipped, tuning the instrument briefly.
"'Summer Nights,'" Bass replied and Miles shot him a glare, but couldn't help but grin. He had his guitar back and nothing was going to ruin this moment.r
"Something Christmas-y," Rachel said quietly and he nodded. After a moment's thought, he closed his eyes and began to play, the soft music filling the room.
Chestnuts roasting on an open fire
Jack Frost nipping at your nose
Yuletide carols being sung by a choir
And folks dressed up like Eskimos
Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe
Help to make the season bright
Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep tonight
They know that Santa's on his way
He's loaded lots of toys and goodies on his sleigh
And every mother's child is gonna spy
To see if reindeers really know how to fly
And so I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you
And so I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to ninety-two
Although it's been said many times, many ways
Merry Christmas to you
Everyone recognized the song, of course, but it was only Miles' voice that sang out, a quiet, deep timbre that Rachel swore she could feel in her own chest. It was sweet, beautiful, and no one in the room doubted that Miles really could have made his dream of being a singer come true if he had tried.
As the final note faded to silence, Miles opened his eyes.
"Oh, Miles… That was beautiful," Anna breathed, the others nodded in silent agreement.
"Yeah, it was great, brother…" Bass said, voice thick with emotion. "'Scuse me, I uh… I need some air." They watched as he walked out the doos and Miles felt like kicking himself. Standing to follow, he was stopped by a hand on his arm.
"Give him a few minutes," Anna said and he reluctantly sat back down. He wasn't worried about a repeat performance from a few months ago, though he had left his gun at the apartment just in case, but he knew how hard this would be on his friend and hated not being there for him. Still, he also knew his mother was right sometimes, a person just needed a minute to mourn on their own.
Eyes still on the door, he half-listened to the others chat about the song and gifts. Ben also asked Anna about her health, though she quickly brushed him off and changed the subject. It was something that Miles just wanted to ignore, though he had noticed that Anna was having more and more trouble with things.
After a while, he went out to the front porch and saw that Bass was nowhere to be seen. He had a feeling he knew where he was and decided to give him a few more minutes before going in search of his friend. As he waited, the door behind him opened and he glanced over to see Rachel walking out, jacket pulled tightly around her against the cold air.
"Is he okay?" she asked and he nodded.
"Yeah… I think he just needed to take a walk," he replied with a shrug, though she could still see the worry in his dark eyes.
"I don't think I really thanked you for the necklace," she murmured and he finally looked over at her fully. "It's beautiful, Miles."
It's beautiful, Miles.
CLICK
"Yeah, uh...It looks really pretty on you," he replied awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other as a breeze wrapped her perfume around him.
"I guess Bass has good taste in jewelry." There was no doubt from her tone that she knew the truth- that Miles had been the one to pick out the necklace for her- and he felt his heart pound harder as she stepped into his personal space. Looking into her eyes, he tried to read her expression and what he saw he didn't dare hope to be real.
"Rachel, I…" What? What could he say? He knew what he wanted to say, and with her mere inches away, he knew what he ached to do. His eyes broke from hers, gliding down to her lips, watching them twitch with the same need he felt. It wouldn't take much, a small rock forward, a tilt of his head…
It was the sound of Ben's laugh that stopped him, echoing from inside to house and infiltrating the cocoon of her perfume. Thoughts derailed, he took a shaky breath. When his eyes returned to hers, he found a mix of disappointment and her own guilt shining back at him. Swallowing hard, he glanced at the necklace and reached out to slide the clasp around to the back, his finger dragging slowly along her neck in a soft caress that could easily be explained away. He just had to touch her, couldn't have lived without touching her in that moment. At his touch, her eyes closed and the air between them crackled.
"Miles-"
CLICK
He would never find out what she was about to say, his hand dropping away as the door behind her opened.
"Hey, any sign of Bass?" Ben asked and Rachel turned to face him.
"No, not yet. We were just discussing whether we should go look for him," she replied smoothly, the lie seamless and without hesitation.
"I'm going to give him 5 more minutes and then head out," Miles added and Ben nodded.
"Well, if we need to help, just let us know," he offered, then glanced at Rachel in silent communication before looking back at Miles. "While we're waiting, I wanted to talk to you about Mom."
"I'm gonna go help with the dishes," Rachel murmured, touching Ben's arm as she passed him. Miles watched her go before focusing on his brother, who was as clueless as always. It was the younger man's biggest fault and Miles' damnation.
"What about her?" he asked.
"Miles, she's getting worse. I think we should talk to her about moving in with me and Rachel," he said and Miles frowned.
"She isn't going to leave the house. She loves this place."
"She can barely get around. Honestly, she would be better in a retirement home, but-"
"No fucking way are we putting her in one of those places!" Miles snapped and Ben waved his hands, shushing him.
"I don't want to put her in one, either, which is why I suggested our place," Ben replied with a low voice. "Look, we don't have to talk about this right now. I just wanted to mention it so you can think it over, that's all." Miles nodded at that, grateful to not have to deal with the problem that night, then turned at the sound of scuffing shoes on the sidewalk. They saw that it was Bass and he gave Ben a look. With an understanding nod, the younger man walked back into the house to give the two friends some privacy.
"Where you been?" he asked needlessly but trying to pretend he didn't know and Bass took a deep, shaky breath.
"I, uh, went to the house…" he replied, voice raw from a mix of cold air and emotions. He couldn't quite look Miles in the eye as he shoved his hands in his pockets and swallowed hard. "I really miss them, brother."
"I know, buddy," Miles murmured and pulled his friend into his arms. For a long moment, the two stood there, not caring who saw or what they thought of two men hugging. Fuck em. Eventually parting, Miles patted his friend on the back and led him into the house. "Come on, I think there is still some pie in there we haven't eaten."
"Fine... but only if you sing 'Hopelessly Devoted to You,' first."
"Oh would you shut up already!"
"BOYS!"
"Yes, Ma'am!"
CHAPTER 5
"You know, if you move the date up a month, you could wear a dress without sleeves or straps," Charlotte said and Rachel sighed, turning the page of the bridal magazine. Truth was, she wanted a summer wedding but her new job at the lab was set to start around that time and she couldn't take the time off so soon. Of course, given the nature of their new positions, not to mention the security level, she couldn't tell her mom or dad, or anyone else for that matter, the real reason.
"Ben and I decided on a Fall wedding, Mom," she replied firmly and Charlotte knew her daughter well enough to not bother pressing any further. Even with 8 months to go, she was already stressing about the wedding. She'd seen plenty of friends become "bridezillas" over the years and was already feeling a bit more sympathetic towards them. They had opted for a small wedding, much to her dad's delight given that he was paying for it, but that and the date were the only things decided upon so far. Well, that and that Miles was to be the Best Man.
The knot in her stomach twisted yet again at the thought of her soon-to-be-brother-in-law. If she followed her heart, she would already be engaged to him and be planning their marriage. God knew there was a hell of an attraction between them, something she's come close to acknowledging on Christmas when his fingers had touched her neck and set her body on fire. She sensed he, too, had been about to confess the attraction, but had stopped himself. It was Ben, and a healthy dose of reality, that had stopped her. Yes, she was without a doubt attracted to Miles, but after the Thanksgiving fiasco, she knew she was making the right choice with Ben. He was safe, sweet, and she did truly love him. Miles may be attractive, and certainly sweet in his own way, but he was a loose cannon and she had given those up a long time ago...except in her fantasies. She'd always preferred playing with fire, but had grown tired of getting burned.
Shoving the thought of Miles out of her mind, she focused on the magazine and her mother's endless prattling about centerpieces and bouquets. A laugh from the next room drew her attention and she watched as Ben and her dad walked into the room, Gene patting the young man on the back heartily. Yes, Ben was handsome and sweet and would make her happy. He was the kind of guy she could settle down with and have a family with and live happily ever after with.
So why couldn't she get rid of the knot in her stomach?
Tap...tap….tap...tap...tap…
"Bass…" he growled through gritted teeth for the third time that hour.
"It helps me concentrate."
"Not if I shove the pencil up your ass."
"...probably be more fun than studying," came the muttered response and, with a huff Bass tossed the book on the table. "I need a beer."
"No, what you need is to study. This test is half our grade," Miles countered but even he was struggling to focus.
The sound of a can cracking open drew his attention and he looked over as Bass took a long drink, groaning as the cold brew went down his throat. It was downright pornographic.
"Yeah, okay. Maybe just one," Miles muttered and, triumphant in his corruption, Bass tossed him his own can. For a few minutes, they just sat and drank.
"I got the invitation to the wedding today," Bass said and Miles grunted, not needing clarification on whose wedding he was referring to. "Have you talked to her at all?"
"About what?" Miles asked, the question coming out as a challenge. "What exactly would I say, Bass? 'Hey, Rachel, would you wanna dump your fiance for me? We'll just ignore the fact that he is my brother.'"
"Yeah, I guess it would make family meals a bit awkward," Bass murmured, genuinely feeling sorry for his friend. "Course, it will make punching Ben in the teeth last year not seem so bad."
"Shut up," Miles snapped with a sneer and Bass fell silent. Still it wasn't as if he hadn't at least considered it, if only for a split second, but there were just oo many negative side effects. Ben would hate him, for good reason, and never forgive him, and it's not like they could ever have a normal family dinner again.
"Hey, Ben, Merry Christmas! Rachel, your ex-fiance that I stole from you, is in the kitchen."
PUNCH
"Ben, meet your nephew. We thought we'd name him after to make up for the whole, you know, stealing your girlfriend thing."
PUNCH
"So, Ben, what do you think Rachel would like for our anniversary? You should know since you dated her for two years before I decided I wanted her instead."
PUNCH
And then there was his mother. He knew she would never understand how he could do something so horrible to his own little brother. It would break her heart for there to be such a wedge between her sons, and Miles couldn't do that to her. No, he had to find a way to forget about Rach and just move on.
"Screw it. Come on, let's go to the bar."
"Two double whiskeys with beer backs," he ordered and Bass's eyebrow went up.
"I guess we're done studying for the night," Bass muttered.
"If you don't know the shit by now, then tapping the book for another hour isn't going to change that," Miles replied sourly. Once their drink arrived, he downed half of it in one swallow and turned to take in the scenery. Being a Wednesday night, the pickings were slim, but then his eyes fell on a couple of young college girls. As he stared, one of them looked over at him once, twice, then giggled to her girlfriend, who also looked over. Yeah, they would do…
"...and this moron, he grabs his BB gun and shoot the cow in the ass! So, now it turns and starts chasing him!" Bass exclaimed, much to the delight of the girls, who giggled stupidly. Miles cracked a drunken grin and looked at the girl beside him, her obviously fake platinum blonde hair shining dully in the neon light. She couldn't have been a day over 21, her spaghetti-string top leaving precious little to the imagination, and with the 3 whiskeys he'd bought her, she was just the right level of flirty without being so drunk he would consider her beyond decision-making. Still giggling from Bass's stupid story, she pressed herself against his side and he felt her hand slide up his thigh.
"So, did you escape the evil cow?" she tittered and he barely suppressed rolling his eyes.
"Nope, I'm still out there, getting chased in the middle of the field," he replied, somehow keeping the sarcasm out of his voice. Okay, it was time to kiss this chick, if only to shut her up.
Noticing Bass had already beaten him to the idea with his own date, Miles pulled the giggling blonde to him. She tasted of cheap whiskey and stale cigarettes, and he was glad he'd quit smoking when they had joined the Marines. Pushing past her taste, he let her tongue move aimlessly around his mouth, just enough to turn him on without completely grossing him out. He had no doubts about where this was heading when her hand found him below the soft cotton of his jeans. That got him to half-heartedly respond and he took control of the kiss. After a while, he came up for oxygen and whispered in her ear.
"Let's get some air," he grunted and suppressed an eye roll as she giggled stupidly again.
The door to the alleyway had barely shut before he had her pinned to the wall. Their kissing quickly became sloppy as he pawed and groped her small, firm breasts and her hand dived into his thankfully loose jeans. A grunt escaped him as she worked him to full attention and his own hand dropped to slide beneath her skirt. She was wet enough for him, though he was enough of a gentleman to assure she was at least somewhat pleasured before he removed his hand and opened his fly.
Any second, they could be caught, which only helped make him harder. With minimal fuss (thank god he always carried a condom), he hiked one of her legs up over his hip, shoved her panties to the side, and drove himself into her. It was rough, frantic, and anything but romantic, and he couldn't have cared less. He might as well have been doing push-ups on base for all the emotion he felt, his hips moving automatically and her cries and moans around his ears like an annoying fly buzzing about. He tried his best to focus, to just get the job done, but concentration was difficult with her noises and the alcohol in his system. Dropping his eyes to her breasts, he noticed the top of a small tattoo.
"Is that an apple?" he muttered and felt her nod against his shoulder.
"I'm going to be a teacher," she panted.
CLICK
Platinum white was suddenly replaced by silky, natural blonde and he could swear he could smell light, sweet warmth. Instead of a black outline, the apple sparkled brilliant red and gold, and he heard her gasps in his ear, just as he imagined. With a growl, he slammed into her, needing, possessing, and he barely noticed the nails digging into his shoulders as he let go of all control. Dull, mechanical sensation suddenly focused into sharp pleasure and, with a feral growl, he throbbed and came hard.
The condom having done its job, he tossed it a few feet away into an open dumpster, zipped up his jeans, and turned to the girl.
Shit. What was her name?
"Who's Rachel?" she asked, surprisingly without malice and he felt a wave of guilt wash over him as he realized he must have been more vocal than he thought.
"Nobody," he grunted, looking away as she straightened herself up, watching her somehow too intimate even after what they had just done. "Look, um…" Yep, still couldn't remember her name…
"Kayla," she provided and he nodded, a bit ashamed. He'd never really been one for one night stands and now he remembered why.
"Right...Kayla, look, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I mean, you're a nice girl and all, but this… this isn't really my thing, you know?"
To his relief, she giggled- a sound that wasn't quite so annoying now, he found- and walked over to him. Standing on tip-toes, she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and, without a word, walked back into the bar. He stood for a moment, considering her reaction and dussne bout of maturity, then grinned to himself and walked out of the alley.
CHAPTER 6
TBC
