Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

two years later

Raleigh reaches into the bed of his battered, second-hand pickup truck to grab the last box. He hefts its weight, leaning back on his heels to balance it. His arms are exhausted from hauling in boxes and furniture all day, but Chuck's bad shoulder made his fingers start to go numb around noon. Raleigh didn't want Chuck hurting himself, even though it was a fight to get him to start unpacking small things and compiling lists of what they still needed. He ended up taking off to go grocery shopping before Raleigh and Herc had even gotten halfway through the stuff in the truck.

"Is that the last one?" Herc asks as he comes out the side door.

"Yeah," Raleigh says. "Unless there are anymore in your car?"

"No, I don't think so," Herc says, rubbing his jaw. "If I find anything I can always bring it over tomorrow."

"Can you see the label on this one?" Raleigh shifts the weight of the box up.

Herc raises an eyebrow. "Sex toys?"

Raleigh sucks in air through his teeth. "Remind me never to give your son a sharpie and free reign ever again."

"Well, if you don't mind," Herc coughs, "I'm going to head out. Tell Chuck I'll call him tomorrow."

"Of course," Raleigh says. "I'd shake your hand, but. You know."

"The sex toys," Herc laughs.

Raleigh groans.

Herc drives off and Raleigh opens the side door with his hip, pushing Max out of the way. Max is off the wall at the moment; he's always been a mellow dog, and moreso now that he's getting older, but the excitement of the move has him running around in circles and smashing into walls.

"Max!" Raleigh shouts as the dog weaves in and out of his feet, lifting the box to keep from dropping it. "Chuck will literally skin me if I drop this on you!" He maneuvers around the dog and puts the box on the kitchen table. He opens it to find approximately a thousand neatly folded linens and towels. "Sex toys," he grumbles. "Little shit."

Chuck has left the house in a state of complete chaos, boxes half unpacked with their contents all hanging around, things left on counters. He doesn't get anxious or agitated as much as he used to, but leave it to him to start a million projects and leave them all unfinished. Sometimes Raleigh is a little surprised that Chuck's pulling such good grades, but Chuck's smart. Smarter than Raleigh gives him credit for, sometimes.

Raleigh checks Max's water bowl and figures that sitting down for a few minutes wouldn't be too terrible. The sun's just starting to go down and Chuck will be there soon. He goes into the living room and throws himself onto the couch. He's out like a light in what feels like a second, sleeping soundly.

--

Chuck feels strange, walking into his own house for only the third or fourth time. Raleigh fell in love with the place right away. There were flowers all over the yard in the spring when he had first found it, a lemon tree in the back and a trellis for roses on one side. Chuck balked at first, scared he was too young to be a homeowner or that the relationship would be ruined if they bought a house together, but Raleigh made it clear that he was buying the house whether Chuck was coming or not.

It was Dad, in the end, who gave Chuck the final push. Dad who had been so patient, letting Raleigh stay for so cheap while he got his feet under him, who approved of Raleigh so much that Chuck caught Dad slip up and refer to him as "son in law". Dad who said, quite plainly, that love didn't pay the bills but it made the shit times easier, that when two people decided to be with each other forever, they had to stick to that decision and stick with eachother and come out stronger through all the bullshit.

So Chuck bought the house with Raleigh. School was totally paid for under his veteran's benefits and he had started working at a research lab for some spare scratch, breeding rare kinds of sea urchins for repopulation. It would be fine.

Chuck whistles as he comes in through the front door. The kitchen light is the only one burning and he goes to drop off the groceries. Everything is totally empty; nothing in the cabinets or drawers, and just a few bottles of water in the fridge from moving in. Chuck contemplates putting everything away the same way he did at his father's, or if he wants to do something different. He thinks about it for a second and then just puts away the things that need to be kept cold. He'd figure it out tomorrow, after class.

Raleigh is asleep on the couch in the living room, which isn't exactly shocking. Raleigh's sleeping never evened itself out. He still barely sleeps at night. He still naps all the time. Chuck supposes that it's just going to be like that for the rest of their lives.

The sky is red, bleeding long shadows into the house. There are no blinds, no curtains, nothing yet. Chuck leaves Raleigh to sleep. He walks through the empty hallway, up the stairs. He touches places on the walls, big blank slates that might one day hold photographs of their important days. There are only two rooms upstairs, one bathroom in the whole place. Chuck can imagine that being a problem if they have kids, especially girls. But it's alright for now.

He sits down in the room that they decided would be their bedroom. The mattress is up against the wall and the fading light makes everything sort of shine. A few years ago, all this emptiness would have scared him, sent him running back out the front door and right back to Dad's place. He supposes that when you're empty, any reflection of that emptiness is frightening. Chuck does not think that he is a shell anymore. He's far too aware of all the good things; he positively brims with happiness these days.

No, the emptiness in the house that Chuck and Raleigh have bought is not exactly emptiness per se, but more of a sort of vague potential. Anything could happen there. It's a clean slate. No kaiju. No Jaegers. A place of complete peace.

Chuck is suddenly aware that he wants nothing more than to grow old with Raleigh in this house. He wants to paint this particular canvas with the lively shades of home, children, family. He thinks of Nancy and Eileen. What a life to have. Chuck and Raleigh, well. They're already heroes. They'd already had their adventures. And maybe Chuck's a little young, but he hasn't been so sure of anything since he joined the Rangers.

He goes back downstairs, not flipping on the lights. He wants to hold onto this feeling for just a few minutes longer. He bounds into the living room and kneels down on the floor next to the couch, resting his head on Raleigh's chest.

"Rals," he says softly.

"Mmph," Raleigh mumbles. His hand immediately goes to Chuck's hair, ruffling it gently. "Hi, little fish. Successful grocery trip?"

"Can we get married?"

"Okay, so I'm guessing they ran out of Rocky Road," Raleigh says.

"I'm serious," Chuck whines.

"Babe," Raleigh says, stretching. "Can you just lay down with me for a second before you start talking about marriage?"

Chuck climbs up and drops his weight onto Raleigh's chest.

"Oof," Raleigh huffs. "So you are serious, huh?"

Chuck rubs his face on Raleigh's five o'clock shadow. "Yes."

"Okay," Raleigh says, kissing Chuck's forehead. "We can get married."

"Great," Chuck says.

"This is where we're gonna grow old together, isn't it?" Raleigh sighs.

Chuck looks at him very carefully. They'd never gotten the chance to Drift, but sometimes Chuck is convinced that you can be so close to a person that you never really have to. They just. Know.

"We should get another dog, too," Raleigh says.

"I knew there was a reason I love you," Chuck laughs.

Raleigh kisses the top of Chuck's head and squeezes him tight. Chuck falls asleep in his arms, listening to him sing "Like A Mountain", dreaming about little kids and big beaches and years and years full of life. Raleigh's voice weaves through his sleep.

'Cause I love you like a mountain.