Love is patient. Love is kind. It does not envy; it does not boast, and it is not proud. It is not rude; it is not self-seeking. It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil; it rejoices in the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always perseveres. Love never fails.
Growing up, Will Latrie heard those words often. It was his Grandmere Bette's favorite Bible verse. It was now Will's favorite verse too, and almost sixteen years after her death, he held onto the memory of her—and her words—like a security blanket. After all, her words were truthful; his upbringing alone was a testament of that fact.
Will couldn't help but think of it, especially as he rolled over and stared at Thomas, who slept by his side. Will was thankful for the peaceful look on Thomas' face. It had been days since he'd slept so well. Ophelia's kidnapping and Victor's assault, combined with Hannah's abduction and Abel's still comatose state had really messed with Thomas. Rest did not come easy to the younger Teller brother, but as Will stared at him, he knew that the beautiful, blonde kid he'd met four years prior had now finally came into his own. Will couldn't imagine his life without him. Forever with Thomas Teller sounded amazing.
Will was careful as he slid out of bed. Muted sunlight flooded the room. Huge gray clouds had all but eclipsed the light, but Will welcomed it. He wasn't a huge fan of sunshine; if anything, he liked the feeling of shadows. He was quiet as he slid on sweatpants and a shirt, and slowly, he walked out of the room, silently closing the door behind him.
The smell of bacon wafted into his nose, and he smiled. Venus. She was an incredible woman. She reminded Will a lot of his grandmother. Her sweet spirit, gentle heart, and beautiful smile had kept Will strong for Thomas. It was no secret that Thomas was once a ticking time bomb, unsure of himself and his place within his family. When he was Luke Morgan, Thomas was a moody, sage drifter. His soul was always wild and untamed, especially when he felt like he didn't belong. That Thomas was gone.
In his place was a dedicated, family oriented savage. Will had been the one to lay awake waiting for Thomas to return home, which he always did. There hadn't been a day that passed where Thomas didn't seek out his beloved. Everything for the Tellers was life or death at this point, but Thomas always managed to make Will feel loved, and Will returned that love. It simply wasn't his nature to go to war, but Will understood that it was Thomas'. Will expressed his devotion in his own ways.
He'd trekked back and forth to the hospital with Venus, giving Tara and Althea much needed breaks. He brought changes of clothes for Delylah, who split her time between Victor and Abel's bedsides. The hulking Marine ended up needing surgery, just as Jax had predicted, so Delylah could count on one hand the number of times she'd been home within the last two weeks. As much as Will didn't understand the Tellers' past or present, he prayed like hell he'd part of their future. He'd never seen a more devoted or loving family.
Will's feet barely grazed the cabin's stairs as he made his way down to breakfast. Venus was already dressed for the day; she wore a simple deep purple sun dress that highlighted her beautifully bronzed skin. Her honey colored tresses were perfectly coiffed, as always. The soft waves bounced around her pretty face. Will marveled at her expertly applied makeup as he glanced at the microwave clock. 7:15. It took everything he had to simply roll out of bed and show up at the breakfast table, and this woman was exquisitely dressed and preparing breakfast, without batting a perfectly curled eyelash.
"Good morning," she chirped. She slid a plate in his direction as he grabbed a stool and sat at the counter. "How'd you sleep?"
"Better than I have since we got here," Will answered. He didn't sleep well when Thomas was gone, and while his love managed to see and spend time with him every single day, there were many nights where he was off with Jax, trying to find answers. Last night had been the first time in over a week that he and Thomas shared a bed.
"It always helps when the one you love is next to you," Venus said. She had become an expert sleeping alone throughout the years. There had been many nights where Tig would join Chibs in overnight expeditions, and Venus had learned to sleep without her husband, even if she hated it. "I know when Alex is home, I am a much happier lady."
Will nodded as he shoved a forkful of eggs into his mouth. Venus poured the young man a large cup of coffee and placed it in front of him. Will lifted the cup to his lips and closed his eyes as he drank from it. Venus smiled with the knowledge that she'd gotten it right. Will was an easy soul to understand, and an easier one to read. Venus was grateful for his presence; it broke the doldrums of being alone or being at the hospital.
"You ready for today?" she asked Will as he placed the cup on the marble counter top. Will nodded.
"Yeah," he replied. "It'll be good to get Victor here. I know Delylah will be a little more relieved." After almost two weeks in the hospital, Victor had finally been given a clean bill of health and was being permitted to return to the cabin. He was supposed to be on strict bedrest, but Will knew the headstrong soldier would insist upon joining Thomas, Tig, and Jax in their search for the truth.
"I will be too," Venus admitted. "That Lucius really messed him up." Will watched as she poured herself a cup of coffee. Unlike Will, who took his coffee with lots of cream and sugar, Venus drank hers black. Will stiffened at the mention of Lucius' name. He still couldn't believe the kid that attended Abel and Hannah's wedding was the same person that split Victor's skull open. He also couldn't believe the possibility of Lucius beating the hell out of Ophelia. All of it had been shocking.
"Did Thomas mention any new leads?" Venus asked. They'd been searching for so long, both alone and with law enforcement, but nothing regarding the girls' whereabouts had been found. It was as if they'd completely disappeared. It was a source of great frustration for Jax, Tig, and Thomas. Althea had become more involved, enlisting the aid of the Feds in finding them, to no avail.
They were now, with the help of Jack Petty and undercover federal agents, searching day and night for the Teller girls. The missing young women were the talk of the small town. Nothing like this had ever happened before. It was a matter of time before it became statewide news, and Will knew that, once that happened, it would be much more difficult to search for Hannah and Ophelia.
"No," Will said softly. "There's been nothing." His mind whispered the words Will simply couldn't say. All signs are pointing to them being dead. It had now been almost a month since Hannah's abduction, and there wasn't a trace of Abel's wife to be found. Almost two weeks had passed since Lucius took Ophelia away, and neither one of them were any closer to being found. A brief flicker of fear passed through Venus' eyes as she nibbled on a piece of toast.
"Did Thomas tell you I was coming too?" she asked, quickly changing the subject. Will nodded.
"Yeah," he answered. "He mentioned it. With Delylah here, Tara is going to need someone with her." Will and Thomas would only be able to do so much now. They would have to split time between the cabin and hospital until Victor was completely healed. As it stood, Hannah's soldier brother was damned lucky to be alive. Jack's investigation had uncovered a bloodied rolling pin. Thomas knew it well. It was heavy black Italian marble, and Tara never once used it for cooking. It was too pretty to use, she'd said.
"I'm just glad he made it through surgery," Venus said softly. "He was in rough shape. That surgeon did an amazing job."
"Yeah, I was surprised that Dr. Sinclair even bothered to help his kid. Pulling strings and getting a neurosurgeon to fly in from Atlanta—" Will paused and sipped his coffee—"Shocked the hell outta Jax and Tara. Hell, it shocked all of us."
Venus nodded, secretly pleased at Dr. Sinclair's intervention. She didn't know the history between father and son, but she knew that there had to be love beneath all the anger and frustration. Deep down, Venus knew that Sarah Sinclair probably forced her husband's decision, but Venus also knew that, if James Sinclair was against something, it'd take hell and half of Georgia to get him to change his mind.
"But it still happened," Venus replied. "That means there's hope."
Will finished off his coffee, unsure of what to say. After witnessing the Sinclairs' strange relationship with their son, he felt that any move Dr. Sinclair made was from guilt. Where that guilt originated was anyone's guess.
"Hope for what?" Thomas' voice was low and crackly as he walked down the stairs. Dressed in loose red flannel pants and nothing else, Will could help but catch his breath. God, you are gorgeous, he thought as Thomas padded across the hardwood floors. Slowly, he grabbed a barstool and sat by Will's side, planting a sweet kiss on his lover's cheek. Will responded by draping his arm across Thomas' smooth, broad shoulders. His skin felt cool against Will's touch, and Will delighted at the goosebumps that rose beneath his hand. I love you, he thought. Thomas' beautiful blue eyes echoed the sentiment as they locked gazes. The desire between the two men was palpable, as was the love and adoration.
"You hungry, Tommy?" Venus asked. She was the only person, besides Tara, that could get away with calling Thomas Tommy. He couldn't explain why it was okay for Venus to use the childish nickname; all Thomas knew was peace when Venus said his name. There was a purity to her spirit that made Thomas feel at ease. As far as he was concerned, Venus could call him Tommy for the rest of his life.
"A little," Thomas lied. The truth was he was ravenous. For the first time in ages, he woke with an appetite. The smell of breakfast had lured him from sweet dreams, and even though Thomas fought to sleep just a few moments longer, bacon and eggs won the battle. Venus, somehow acutely aware of Thomas' moods, placed massive helpings of bacon and eggs onto one of Tara's pretty patterned plates. Once he began eating, Venus went to the fridge and grabbed a carton of orange juice. Carefully pouring it into a tall glass, she passed it to Thomas, who smiled in thanks. How does she know I hate coffee? He contemplated as he wolfed breakfast down. You're quite the woman, Venus Trager, he thought.
"So what are we being hopeful about?" Thomas asked as he polished off the bacon.
"Dr. Sinclair," Venus offered. She watched Thomas' lips twist in disgust. It was no secret that Thomas hated Hannah and Victor's father.
"There's no hope for him," Thomas breathed. "Once a bastard, always a bastard."
"You can't deny him sending a surgeon to help Victor was a big deal," Venus returned. Even though Venus had known true evil through her mother's child porn business, it still didn't dampen her hopes for humanity. Thomas knew the story, and he still couldn't understand how the woman standing before him could house such an open heart.
"It doesn't change anything," Thomas said, standing. "Hannah and Opie are still missing. Victor came within an inch of dying. Just because Sinclair's fancy, rich ass pulled a couple of strings doesn't mean he gives a damn about us." Venus knew she'd struck a nerve. Reaching out, Thomas scooped up the plates and took them to the sink. Flipping the water on, he began rinsing them off. Venus, knowing that the conversation had the potential to drift out of control, she excused herself and went upstairs. Using the excuse that she needed to get ready, she left Thomas and Will alone.
"Are you okay?" Will asked as Thomas loaded the dishwasher. The verse played in his head again. Love is patient. Love is kind.
"I'm fine," Thomas replied.
"No, you're not," Will countered. He stood and walked over to Thomas. Winding his well-muscled arms around Thomas' chiseled torso, Will rested his chin on Thomas' shoulder. Thomas exhaled. After four years together, Will's intimate knowledge of his heart and soul shouldn't have taken him aback, but it did. Will knew every peak and valley of Thomas' emotions, and now was no exception. Turning off the water, Thomas turned and faced Will. Their faces were mere centimeters apart as they stared at one another.
"Tell me," Will pried, pulling Thomas closer. Unsure of what to say, Thomas just sank further into his partner's embrace. Unable to help himself, he rested his head on Will's shoulder. Thomas could feel tears collecting behind his eyelids, but there was something within him that wouldn't allow them to fall.
"It's just too much," Thomas shakily whispered. It does not envy; it does not boast, and it is not proud.
"I know, love," Will said quietly. Thomas was merely voicing everyone's fears.
"It's been too long. We should've heard something by now, right? Pop and Tig should have leads, and they just don't. Althea can't find anything, neither can the useless morons at Witness Protection. I can't believe how they have just dropped the ball. It's like no one cares but our family."
Will held Thomas. He had no idea how to make it better. He also knew that Thomas was right; they should have heard something by now. All signs are pointing to murder, not kidnapping. It was a bitter pill to swallow.
"What does that have to do with Dr. Sinclair?" Will asked.
"Nothing really," Thomas said. "I just hate the bastard, that's all. No one bothers me more." Thomas paused, sighing. "I just don't know why he's even around. He hasn't helped with Hannah, and no matter what Venus thinks, that whole surgeon thing wasn't an act of kindness; it was to get Sarah to shut the fuck up. He doesn't care about any of this. All he wants is for his life to go back to what it was before we—before the Tellers fucked it up." Will nodded in agreement. Slowly, carefully, he pulled slightly away from Thomas. Without a word or an argument, Will grazed Thomas' lips with his. Thomas, unable to help himself, allowed heady lust to overcome him. His hands twined in Will's thick curls as the kiss deepened.
"You should run," Thomas whispered as he gently pulled back. "You should run away and never look back, Will."
Shock flooded Will's eyes as he stepped backward, away from Thomas. At first, Will thought his lover was joking, but as he stared harder, he realized that Thomas was completely serious.
"Why the hell would I do that?" Will asked. It is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs.
"Everything we touch seems to disappear," Thomas said. "First Hannah, then Opie. We don't know what's happened to them, or why it's happened. I love you too much to lose you. I don't want anything bad to happen. If I'm going to lose you, I'd rather lose you now. It'll hurt less."
"You're insane," Will said. "You're not going to lose me, Thomas. Not now, not ever." Thomas didn't look convinced. Will cradled Thomas' face in his hands. "I loved you before you were a Teller, you see that, right? You're not tainted, Thomas. Being a Teller doesn't change my love for you; if anything, it's made my love stronger."
"You wanna know what happened last night?" Thomas asked as he pulled his face from Will's tender grasp.
"You came home," Will responded. "You crawled into bed with me. I held you until we fell asleep."
"I dreamt of you," Thomas stated. "I dreamt of us. Happy, healthy. Together. With kids and everything. We were the goddamned American dream."
"What's so wrong with that?" Will asked. "I think it sounds amazing."
"It does sound amazing, but it was just a dream," Thomas returned. "When my eyes opened this morning, I knew it was all a goddamned dream."
"I don't under—"
"My mother woke this morning to my brother still in a coma-on a ventilator," Thomas interrupted. "My father woke to another day of searching for his daughter and daughter-in-law. Delylah has to watch Victor's long road to recovery. I just don't want you to be in any pain—pain you would only sustain because of me."
"I'm not leaving you, Thomas." Will was vehement. "I don't give a damn about the danger. I would gladly endure any kind of pain for you."
"You don't get it," Thomas said, shaking his head.
"No, you don't get it, Teller," Will stated angrily. "I love you. I love you more than anyone I've ever known. You found me when I was broken and alone, and you saw past that. You loved me. And I love you for it. You can tell me to walk, but I won't. You're stuck with me for the long haul."
Thomas couldn't speak. His heart was full and breaking—all at the same time. He really didn't want Will to go, but he needed to hear Will say he wanted to stay. Still, it changed nothing. Hannah and Ophelia had all but vanished, and there was no trace of them to be seen. In the last couple of days, Thomas was shocked to realize that parts of him thought the worst—that both his sister and sister-in-law were dead.
Will pulled him closer and enveloped him in a loving, true embrace. Thomas reveled in the sensation as guilt settled within his soul. Thomas had never questioned Will's adoration; he only questioned his own strength. He didn't know if he could live without Will by his side. As they clutched one another, Thomas knew that he never wanted to find out. The thought was unbearable.
"I love you," Thomas jaggedly whispered. He was scared, but he knew what he wanted. He wanted what he'd dreamt of: the kids, the love, the peace.
Love does not delight in evil; it rejoices in the truth.
"I know, baby," Will responded. "I love you, too." He grabbed Thomas' hand, and they left the kitchen, mess forgotten. As they neared the stairs, Will turned to face Thomas. Staring intently into Thomas' blue eyes, Will knew he was whole. All Thomas had to do was trust it. A whole lifetime was there. All they had to do was grab it.
Love always protects. Love always trusts. Love always perseveres.
Love never fails.