Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Hey, this looks just like my apartment, Babe,” Asher observed with wide, darting eyes.

“That’s because we’re at your apartment,” I explained slowly, slipping the key into the lock before throwing the door open.

Asher blinked slowly. “Home sweet home!” he gasped as we stumbled through the doorway into the apartment. I let the door slam behind us with a thud. I used my elbow to lock the door so I could still keep both of my hands on Asher. The last thing I wanted was for him to fall and hit his already-injured head.

“Yup. That’s right,” I mumbled, helping Asher to the couch. I hoped that Asher was comprehending me, but I remained skeptical. I had a feeling that he was still freely associating whatever I said with whatever was floating around in his concussed head. “Let me get your shoes off, hmm? Then you’ll be able to lay down on the couch.” I dropped to my knees and began to untie Asher’s boots. My fingers worked quickly and I tugged at the laces so that the boots would slip off his feet easily. I tossed each boot onto the mat and lifted Asher’s legs so that he was stretched out across the couch.

“Nice shot, Babe!” Asher remarked when he noticed one of the boots landed upright on the mat. He crunched up a little and lifted his arms in my direction. “My turn, my turn,” he said, opening his hands for me to give him a boot to toss like it was some sort of carnival game.

“Uh, not right now. Maybe later,” I deflected, gently pushing Asher’s arms back down as I took a seat next to him. “How’s your head feeling, Honey?”

“My head hurts,” he answered, confusion creeping into his tone. “It really hurts. But why?” He squinted, rubbing at his eyes. “Why does my head hurt?”

I combed through Asher’s hair with my fingers. “Because you have a concussion. Do you remember what gave you the concussion?” I prompted. The healer had advised me to be gentle as I tried to get a sense of Asher’s memory so that I could monitor him if any sudden decline started to happen.

“Ummm…” I could tell Asher was thinking hard. I hated the idea of making him strain himself in this state, but the healer was clear that I would be responsible for him until the residual swelling in his brain subsided. “I fell. Right, Babe? Is that it?”

“That’s right,” I confirmed quickly, not missing a beat as I stroked his hair, taking care to include the single cowlick that always popped up near his ear whenever Asher let his otherwise pin-straight hair get a little bit too long. “You fell because you insisted on running down the stairs even though the maintenance staff put up four different signs saying that they had waxed the landing. You hit your head on the hand railing as you went down. Does that sound familiar?”

Asher relaxed a little more into the pillow as I spoke. “Kinda,” he recalled hazily. “And then you took me to the healer?”

“Yes, yes,” I said, relieved that Asher was able to piece together the day. “We went to the healer and she fixed most of your injury. She stopped the bleeding, checked to make sure your brain was intact and everything.”

“You held my hand when she healed me,” Asher supplied. He gripped my hand and pulled it from his head to his mouth, kissing the back of it. “The whole time.”

“Exactly. You were very brave,” I said, patting his chest. “The healer said that you might still experience symptoms of a concussion for the rest of today and maybe a little bit tomorrow, because of the way she had to heal the trauma. How bad is the pain? Scale of one to ten.”

“Mmmmm,” Asher considered. “Yeah, between one and ten,” he finally decided.

“That’s helpful,” I sighed, grateful he was too unaware to pick up on my frustration. “Thanks, Honey.”

I felt guilty that I was even feeling frustrated with Asher when he couldn’t control what he was saying. The day’s events were weighing heavily on me. My heart practically leapt into my throat when I saw Asher fall. The loud crack from when his head came into contact with that railing still echoed in my ears. I knew that head wounds were notorious for bleeding a lot, but to see that much blood rushing out of Asher truly terrified me. I may have seemed calm and in control when I called the ambulance and answered the Emergency Healing Technicians’ questions as they loaded him onto an ambulance, but my calm exterior was just performance. As I had done so many times in my life, it was like I shifted to a robotic version of myself who was ready to be as practical and thoughtful as possible despite a churning mess of emotions cycling through my body. While I may not have understood how the healer did what she did, I was entirely grateful. What might have constituted a traumatic brain injury in my non-magical world was reduced to a minor concussion here.

Asher let out a small hum as his eyes drifted shut. “Healing always makes me sleepy,” he noted, turning his head so that his cheek rested on the pillow.

I quickly began to rub Asher’s shoulders. “She told me you might want to sleep, but you’ve gotta stay awake for a few more hours. So, keep your eyes open, hmm?”

“Babe…” he groaned. “No. My head is pounding, and I’m so tired…”

“Aww, please?” I enticed, letting my hands migrate to Asher’s cheeks. It was a dirty trick. I knew my hand would feel cold on his face. They always do because I tend to run cold, especially compared to someone as warm and cozy as Asher. “For me? I want to see your pretty eyes.”

He slightly flinched when I cupped his cheeks in my hands. The surprise chill from my hands led him to open his eyes. “Fine,” he relented.

“Thank you,” I smiled. “Can you stay like that just for a minute so I can get you some water? I want to make sure you're hydrated. I’ll get you the blanket from your bed, too. How does that sound?”

Asher might have been looking at me when I spoke, but his expression told me he zoned out at some point. I cursed myself for letting my nervousness get to me. I should have waited for him to process one thought before I jumped to the next. My impatience was getting the better of me, which was not uncommon. What bothered me is that my flaws were affecting Asher, and that was something I absolutely would not allow.

“My head hurts,” he said as if we had not discussed his pain a few seconds ago. “A lot. And I’m really tired.”

“I know, Honey. It’ll pass soon, okay?” I kissed his forehead. “But you can’t go to sleep just yet.” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to pause so I could let that message sink into his brain. “I’m going to get you some water. Stay right there, okay?”

“I’ll be here,” he slurred, nodding lethargically.

I pushed off the edge of the couch to stand. “Good, good,” I praised. “I’ll be right back.” I took wide strides to the kitchen, snatching a glass from the cupboard while on my way to the refrigerator.

As I was pouring water from the filter-pitcher into the glass, I heard Asher exclaim, “I’m gonna shift!”

I slammed the refrigerator door shut and turned on my heel, sprinting back to the couch without spilling a drop of water. I placed the cup onto the wooden stand next to the couch.

“Babe, I’m gonna shift!” he repeated excitedly, his shirt already on the floor. “Help me. I’m stuck in my pants!”

“No, no, no,” I ordered, rushing to his side. “You can’t shift, Honey.”

“What?” Asher was sitting up, fumbling with the button on his fly. “Why not? I can so shift!” he said indignantly. “Watch me.”

I gently tugged his hands away from clothes and placed them at his sides. “No,” I said firmly. “The healer warned me that you couldn’t shift for at least another two days.”

“Two days?” he whined, falling back against the arm of the couch. “That’s like forever!”

“I know, I know,” I sympathized in earnest. I gritted my teeth, willing myself to stay strong because I knew it was for his own good, though his abject horror on Asher's face at the idea of not being able to shift for forty-eight hours was almost enough to make me give in. I was still learning about werewolf culture, but I knew enough to know that shifting was something intrinsic to their souls. For Asher, shifting was often a release, a way for him to relax and to unwind, so it bothered me that I had to tell him not to do the one thing that I knew brought him unparalleled comfort, especially in this distressed state. Still, I let my practicality guide me and did what needed to be done, just as I always did. “But the healer was clear,” I reminded him. “Shifting causes your anatomy to change in a way that will aggravate your concussion. You could do some serious brain damage if you shift, Honey.”

“Mean,” Asher pouted. “You’re no fun.”

I ignored his comment, at least for the time being. “Promise me you won’t.”

“Babe…” Asher groaned.

I cut him off before he could add any extra syllables to the word. “Promise me!” I said fervently, looking him directly in his still slightly-dilated, green eyes. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Okay,” he answered in a small voice. “Okay, Babe.”

“Okay what?” I reiterated, trying to get at least that one rule stuck into his memory.

“Okay, I promise I won’t shift,” he vowed.

His response earned a smile from me. “That’s a good boy.” I grabbed the glass and showed it to Asher. “How about some water? You know how important hydration is,” I enticed.

“‘Mkay,” he accepted. I helped him drink from the glass and then helped Asher settle into a more relaxed position.

“Need anything else?” I asked attentively. “You warm enough?”

“I’m good.” Asher gave me a thumbs up and a goofy smile spread across his face. “Totally good.”

“Good,” I said. “Tell me if you need anything, okay? I am here to get you what you need. I’ll be right here.”

“You always do, Babe. You always do,” he said, stretching his arms and yawning.

He was quiet, but twisting back and forth. I presumed he was twisting to distract himself from his headache, but I was satisfied that he was staying awake and in his human form for the time being. To take advantage of the smalle reprieve, I pulled out my phone and searched through my contacts to make a call.

“How’s Asher?” a gravelly voice answered after three rings.

“David, it’s—”

“I know,” David interrupted. “What’d the healer say? How is he?”

I gave David a detailed recap of our time with the healer, Asher’s very positive prognosis, and my current struggles with watching over Asher with a concussion.

“Do you need an extra hand?” David offered. “I can call in Milo to cover for me today and be there as soon as he comes to relieve me. It’s really no problem.”

“No, no,” I politely refused, switching the phone from my right ear to my left ear as I waved off David’s kind offer, despite the fact that he couldn’t see me. “Asher’s doing pretty well, just kind of confused and slow to pick up on things you tell him, you know?

There was a beat of silence before David answered. “Maybe Asher always has a concussion,” he posited dryly.

I laughed, fully appreciative of David’s wit. “That’d explain so much,” I agreed. “And he’s got a persistent headache, so he wants to sleep, except he can’t for a few hours yet. I won’t let him shift, either, so I’m not exactly his favorite person right now.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” David remarked. “This job is scheduled to end by 9:00PM. I’ll come straight home after it ends,” he promised. “Then I can take over watching him and you can get a break. I’m sure it’s been a tough day for you, too. I’m glad you’re there to take care of him.”

“Happy to be of service,” I responded mechanically.

“Thank you,” said David. “I’ll let you know when I’m on my way. Thank you again. If anything, and I mean anything changes, do not hesitate to call me.”

“Sure thing,” I agreed in earnest. “Talk to you soon, David.”

I barely finished the last syllable before David hung up the phone, not that I could blame him. Asher’s stories about security work were always quite intense and I knew that when any of the pack were on duty, their priority had to be their job, or else they could be putting both their clients and each other in danger.

I glanced at Asher, who seemed content to continue staring at the ceiling as he laid on the couch.

I could not help but think of my conversation with David. “Happy to be of service,” I whispered to myself bitterly. It was the same trite phrase I used every time I volunteered to take on an extra role at work or provided a tipsy friend with an escort home from a club after a night of partying that I didn’t even get asked to join. It wasn’t as if I didn’t mean it when I said I would always be happy to help. Sometimes, though, being ‘the responsible one’ did come with frustrating drawbacks, such as everyone only seeing me as a source of aid and comfort without even considering me to be someone who wanted to be included in the fun stuff, too. I was worried I’d start to forget to make room for joy in my life. Had I spent so much of my life being ‘the responsible one’ that I had boxed myself into a life that circulated around what others wanted from me without a thought as to what I might’ve wanted?

What scared me the most, actually, is that even Asher would see me in the same light as so many others did, that he’d realize I wasn’t joyful enough or fun enough to be with him.

And then, he'd tell me to leave. Or worse, he’d just fade out of my life without even considering that his absence in my world might break my heart.

My heart lurched at the thought. I pushed it away by busying myself with rifling through my bag to gather all of the discharge papers Asher’s healer left with me. I had already read them, so I organized them on the kitchen table. That way, when David returned, he would have all the same information I had about Asher’s condition.

That done, I began to wash the breakfast dishes left in the sink that I am sure were Asher’s responsibility this morning. He and David traded off the chores, a system I’m sure David imposed approximately one week after he and Asher became roommates. Although I didn’t know David well, I knew enough to know he would’ve done the dishes before he left for the security job. If the dishes were left in the sink, that was a sign that it was Asher’s turn to do the dishes this week. I knew he preferred to leave all the dishes until nighttime so he'd only have to do the dishes once. Asher claimed it was the most efficient method. I (and, I think, David) called it lazy.

“Babe,” Asher called. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Asher force himself into a sitting position. “Babe!” he repeated more urgently.

I shut the faucet off quickly and dried my hands on my pants as I rushed to his side. It only took me two seconds to get there, but even in that short time, it was like whatever Asher was going to say had fallen out of his head.

“What is it, Honey?” I prompted, putting my hand on his knee to keep his attention on me.

His gaze floated around the room before finally landing on me.

I forced a smile onto my face, despite the apprehension growing in my gut. “Asher, talk to me,” I encouraged. “Is something wrong?”

“No, Babe,” he said calmly. “Nothing’s wrong with me. Nothing. You've been taking care of me so well all day," he noted calmly.

"You're injured," I said. "Of course I'm here for you." I said it like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"But what about you?” he said simply.

The goofy confusion he had been exhibiting had dissipated completely, but I could tell that something was off with him.

“Me?” I echoed. "I'm not the one with the concussion," I scoffed. “That’s you.”

"No, but you don't need a concussion to have someone take care of you," he argued. Asher scooted closer to me. "Someone like me. I should do that more for you."

I got the sense that this conversation was less about Asher's concussion and more a symptom of it. I knew that head injuries sometimes lowered a people's inhibitions enough to cause them to say things they wouldn't necessarily share if they were cognizant.

"I love taking care of you," I soothed. "Don't worry, Honey. I don't want you getting upset right now."

"But, but, but," Asher stuttered. "I want to take care of you, too.” He clumsily placed his large hand on my forehead. I wondered if he might have been aiming for the top of my head. “Sometimes, I worry I like you taking care of me too much.”

This time, I was the one who was confused, but I did not brush him off. Asher seemed so determined to speak. He was struggling to explain the logic that clearly made sense in his addled head. “What do you mean?”

His eyes were looking at me, but there was a fuzziness about them. I could see that what Asher was thinking about was not random nonsense, but I had a sinking feeling that he might not have been so ready to share these thoughts with me if he were completely lucid.

“I mean…” He slid his hand from my forehead and curled it around my neck. “I mean, that I let you do so much for me, Babe. Too much. I know you like being the one who does everything for everybody. I know that, and I love that about you.” He gently pulled me closer and I did not resist. “But I don’t want to take advantage of you. I think I do that sometimes. And it’s not fair for me to do that to you. It’s not right.”

I instinctively started to shake my head, but when Asher continued, I stilled at his voice.

“I need to do more for you,” he lamented. “I need to stop you from running yourself into the ground on my account. Why do I let you do that? How can I let you do that?” he asked urgently. Without warning, he let go of me and clenched his fist at his sides. “I’m supposed to be your boyfriend. Your support. Your partner.” He tensed his jaw. “I want to ask you to be my mate,” he revealed, like the information was as mundane as the daily weather report. “But before I do that, I need to know that I’ll be a good mate to you. And, God, some days, I feel like I miss every chance to prove it to you.” He let his chin dip to his chest and heaved a sigh. “I screw it up every time.”

I pursed my lips into a tight line. As elated as I felt to know that Asher wanted to solidify our relationship, I felt like I was betraying him by letting him disclose all of his secrets when he had no control over his mouth. “Honey, it’s okay, really, but I don’t know if you want to be saying all that in front of me. I—”

He jerked his head backwards so fast that he could’ve pulled a muscle in his neck. “I do!” Asher insisted strongly. “I do. I really do, Babe. I know it’s all second nature to you. The care, the confidence, the take charge attitude, everything. And I know that some of it comes from how you were raised. Losing your parents so young, then moving in with your grandmother. It’s no wonder you ended up being so independent and strong. But when she got sick…” He tossed his head to the side dramatically.

“I was an adult by then,” I defended hollowly.

“Yeah, legally,” he admitted, “But you were practically still a kid, and you took care of your grandma for a long time all alone, until she passed. All alone!" he repeated."I know you say it wasn’t hard to put your life on hold for her, but I know you. I know it was hard. And I know you miss her a lot. You never say anything, but I can tell. And I know it was hard. It had to be, it had to be, Babe. I can’t even imagine that kind of loss. Not really. You amaze me,” he said with an earnest twinkle in his eyes. “You’ve been the one that people depend on for so much of your life, because you’re so good at it. But I can see you struggle with it, too. That you’ve gotten it into your head that you’re the only one you can depend on, too, so you take on the whole world alone, because all the people you should’ve been able to depend on...”

“Left,” I finished for him. There was no denying it. He might have been concussed, but goddamn, when he spelled out my own tendencies for me, he was completely accurate.

“And it wasn’t your fault,” he reassured. Asher threw his arms around me, holding me close to his side. “But I'm here to stay. I want to be the one you depend on, Babe. The one you can always let in. That’s who I want to be for you. I’d never ask you to give up your independence or change who you are. Because I love who you are. ” When Asher screwed his eyes shut, I wondered if his headache was getting worse, but when he continued, I realized he was reacting to my past authentically. “It’s just, I don’t want you letting yourself turn into someone who stands in the way of their own happiness because you’re too busy making everyone else happy. And I really, really don’t want you to resent me because I don’t stop you from doing it. But I can’t stand to see you force yourself into this caregiver role with no way out, especially if I’m the one making you do it. God, I can be such a jerk sometimes.” He gripped me fiercely. “I’m so sorry, Babe. I need to do better, I need to be better for you.”

“Honey, Honey, it’s okay,” I said, my voice still thick from hearing his poignant psychoanalysis of my life. “It’s okay. I love you, Asher. You know that, right? I love you. And I take care of you because I want to, okay? Never doubt that. For you, it's all second nature for me, okay? I mean it.” I conveniently skipped over the parts of Asher’s speech that pegged me to a T. “I think your concussion might be mixing things up in your head right now.” I rolled my eyes at myself, knowing how fucking cowardly I was being by blaming Asher’s entirely-correct evaluation of my need for control on his injury.

“I want to be your mate. I want to be the mate you deserve.” His expression crumpled into a frown and I could have sworn I heard a sob escape his lips. “I’m not there yet, but I won’t stop until I show you I can be your mate,” he vowed solemnly.

Asher breathed deeply, scrubbing at a tear that tracked down his cheek. Even as he worked to hold them in, I could see more tears followed.

“Honey,” I murmured into his ear a few times as he cried. I didn’t know what to say. A flood of conflicted emotions was threatening to drown me, but I forced myself to stay on course. “It’s okay, I got you, Honey.” I rubbed Asher’s back a few times, letting my nails lightly track across his skin in a slow rhythm. I was grateful his crying subsided. “I love you for exactly who you are, Asher. I always will. You don’t need to worry about any of that.”

“Worry about what?” he asked clearly, confusion returning to his tone.

His question should have made me feel relieved that he was going to drop this conversation. Instead, I was beyond disappointed to realize that I might have wanted what Asher was describing that conversation. It was like his putting a glass of water in front of me triggered my awareness that I was dehydrated, only for him to drink the glass himself. It wasn’t his fault, I reminded myself. He couldn’t control what he was saying or how he was saying it. Maybe I was just deluding myself that what he was saying was true because I wanted it to be.

“Nothing,” I whispered. “Nothing. I got you. Everything’s fine,” I promised him.

“Babe.” The lightness in his tone, normally such a welcome melody to my ears, suddenly felt so dissonant. “My head hurts, Babe.”

“I know, I know,” I crooned, settling into the couch so he could rest his head onto my chest. “It’ll pass soon, Honey.”

Asher leaned more of his weight into me and hummed in contentment. “You’re kinda cold, but really comfy, Babe,” he purred with a slight growl.

"You know me." I feigned a positive, confident tone. "I'm always cold." That was true, in more ways than one, I thought to myself sadly.

“Stay with me?” He nuzzled his face into the side of my neck.

“Sure,” I nodded and resumed rubbing Asher’s back. I figured this would be a good way to prevent him from going to sleep but still being able to find some ease despite his pain. “Happy to be of service.”

I stayed with Asher like that for what seemed like hours, gently shaking him to wakefulness before he slipped too deeply into sleep. I had kept him hydrated and warm. I even got him to eat a few crackers. Asher had remained mostly quiet, though we did have a few circular conversations about random ideas that popped into his head. I diligently completed each neuro-check at the designated time, all of which Asher passed, earning him a few hours of well-deserved rest. The solitude did nothing to soothe the anxiety that Asher’s haphazard notions about who I was as a person, but thankfully, I did not have long to dwell on it because I heard the door unlock and swing open, revealing David.

“I called you three times, but you didn’t pick up.” He made a beeline for the couch where Asher dozed. “I started to think something was wrong.”

“You did?” I grabbed my phone, wondering why I never heard it ring all day. “Oh, God, David, I’m so sorry. I left it on all-sounds-off from the hospital.” I rubbed the back of my neck, the exhaustion from the day seeping into my body now that someone else was taking over the responsibilities of looking after Asher.

David held up his palm. “It’s fine. How is he?”

“He’s doing very well. You’ll have to wake him up in half an hour to check that he’s thinking alright. ‘Who are you? What day is today? How many quarters make a dollar?’ Stuff like that,” I explained concisely. “The papers about the neuro-checks and other information are on the kitchen table.” I pointed to the neat stack of papers. “He’s hydrated and ate a little bit, though not much, so he might be hungry later.”

“Good,” David said.

“He’s still a little confused,” I warned. “Repeats himself without realizing it. Some mood swings," I reported. "Oh, and so I don't forget, you can't let him shift!”

“Got it. Thank you for everything today. I’m sure Asher will say the same when he’s able.” David removed his jacket and hung it on a coat rack near the door. “I can handle it from here.” He placed his duffel bag onto the floor and began taking off his shoes. “It’s getting late and I know you’ve had a long day.”

I opened my mouth to inform David that I was completely fine, but a yawn came out instead. I turned my head away from him so he would not have to stare down the back of my throat. “Sorry,” I said after the yawn passed.

“Please don’t apologize for proving me correct,” he observed slyly. “Would you like to stay the night? You can take my bed. It’ll be free anyway. I plan to crash on an air mattress in Asher’s room to make sure he stays out of trouble during the night. I know he sometimes sleepwalks when he has all his mental faculties. I wouldn't want him doing anything like that tonight.”

“No, no,” I said quickly, gathering my bag and checking to make sure my keys were in the zipper pocket I always used. “I’m fine to go home. It was a fairly easy day, to be honest. He was pretty chill once we got back here and I’ve just been putzing around your apartment doing some chores.” I decided to omit Asher’s philosophical kick from my report. “If anything is out of place, it’s my fault, not Asher’s. So, anyway…” I used the door frame for balance as I slipped on my shoes. “Call me if there’s any change or if you need any help. Anytime during the night. I promise I’ll have my phone up as loud as it goes.”

“I will,” David promised, opening the door for me. “Thanks again.”

I took one step towards the door and turned on my heel to face David again. “Um, would you mind if I stopped by tomorrow morning before work to check in on him?”

I almost thought I saw a smile creeping onto David’s face at my question. “You’re more than welcome,” he affirmed. “I imagine you’re the type of person who needs to see for yourself how he’s doing.”

“Thanks.” I exhaled with relief. “Thanks, David. I’ll see you then.”

David waved goodbye to me and slammed the door shut behind me. I hovered for a minute until I heard David flick the lock. Then, I made my way down the hall to the stairwell.

I should have felt completely satisfied to know that he would do everything necessary to help Asher, and while I was grateful for David’s help, I couldn’t repress the torrid swell of emotions swirling that formed as Asher’s words echoed through my head. I descended the stairs as fast as I could, eager to get back to my own apartment.

If Asher’s words did stay with me, I needed to be alone so I could finally cry.

Chapter Text

Ten days later…

“... and so I ended up losing track of time and I just missed the bus,” I declared into my phone. “The next one doesn’t come for another forty minutes. I’m going to be even later than I thought. I’m so sorry, Honey,” I said with a frown. “I considered walking, but it’s pretty dark and I think I’d just rather wait for the bus. Good thing it stops right at this block, huh? Let's just postpone tonight. You’ve waited so long for me as it is. I hate to completely waste your night. We can hang out tomorrow, or, wait, no. You’ve got that job tomorrow afternoon for that energetics party...” Keeping both my and Asher’s schedules straight was a job in and of itself sometimes. “Maybe Sunday then? I don’t know. But I don’t think I’m going to be able to salvage tonight for us. I’m sorry,” I repeated. “So anyway, I hope you get this message. And the other messages I left. Okay. Bye, Honey.”

I hung up the phone and resumed pacing along the front of my work building.

A gust of wind burst into my face as I rubbed my shoulders to keep warm. The light jacket I had chosen this morning was not cutting it. It was not as if I were unprepared for the weather. I also checked my app before I left the house. My light jacket would have sufficed if I actually left work when I was supposed to leave, rather than almost three hours later. I knew the temperature was going to dip tonight, especially now that it was getting darker earlier, but I did not know that my coworkers were going to stick me with a late night. I was pulled out of my thoughts when I saw a car turn into the empty parking lot. That surprised me, since I was the last one here, but as the car came nearer, I recognized the model, color, and the small replica of The Enterprise hanging from the rearview mirror.

Asher parked in front of me and I brightened. He rolled down the window and let his arm stretch across the back of the seat. “Someone call for an Uber driver?” he teased. “We saw your request for the sexiest driver available, so the company sent me." He reached over, opening my door. “C’mon, Babe,” he encouraged. “Get in! It’s cold tonight.”

I got into his car and kissed his cheek. “You didn’t have to come pick me up!” I exclaimed, a few residual shivers still coursing through my body. “This is so out of your way and I—”

“You’re always on my way,” he interrupted, twisting the knob to blast the heat. “Wherever you are, Babe. Now gimme your hands. Brrrr!" he yelped when I put my hands in his. "I’ll warm them up for you in no time.” He tugged my hands to his lips and blew gently. “This’ll do the trick,” he said between breaths.

“Feels good,” I said, reclining into the passenger seat.

“Perfect,” he grinned, creating some friction between his hands and mine until the chill in my bones was gone. “I’m surprised your coworkers left you stranded here when you all got stuck working late. Some of them take your bus, too, don’t they?”

“They didn’t work late tonight,” I shrugged. “Just me.”

Asher released my hands out of shock. “What? Why?”

“Oh, no. It’s not like I had extra work assigned to me or anything.” I let my hands linger on the heat vents. “My team asked me to finish some stuff up for them tonight because they all wanted to leave right as soon as the day ended. They were going to play in a trivia competition in that bar down the street. At, umm, Terry’s Pub, I think. I don’t know.” I kept my voice even and objective so Asher would not pick up on the hurt I felt recounting the day’s events. “I thought I could bang it all out a lot quicker than I did,” I laughed.

“They asked you to pick up their slack so they could leave to go out together?” he asked incredulously. “Real nice,” he said under his breath. “But you love trivia! Why didn’t you go with them? Was it because of our plans tonight? You know you could’ve called me and had me meet you at the bar for trivia.”

There might have been a smile plastered on my face, but it was the fake smile I reserved for uncomfortable conversations. I had never had a need to wear it when I was with Asher. I hoped he wouldn’t be able to recognize that it was just a mask.

To my surprise, however, I found myself also hoping, just a little bit, that he might be able to see through it after all.

“They didn’t ask me to go out with them to trivia,” I explained.

Asher's eyes narrowed and he huffed, "Those sons of bitches!"

“It wasn't like I asked to go and they said no. It wasn't like that," I said, trying to salvage Asher's opinion of my coworkers. In that moment, I wasn't sure why I would even make an effort to do so. "I told them that trivia sounded like a fun time, and I even said they should feel free to come get me if there’s a category on geography. Y’know, just as a joke or whatever.”

Asher stared at me, listening attentively. “‘Cause you’re the best at geography,” he said emphatically.

“Thanks. But they didn’t really react to that or ask me to join them and ugh, I hated to invite myself. Plus, that work they were leaving had to get done and I was there and it was easy enough. It just took me a while because I finished my own work plus part of four other people’s work...” I swallowed, losing my exact rationale of why what had happened was acceptable. “Whatever. I don’t care. They can do what they want to do. Point is, the work is done, and you’re here, and I’m really glad to see you, Honey.”

“But, Babe, that’s bullshit!” Asher burst. “Those losers can’t finish their own work, so they dump it on you and then leave you out of something I know you’d enjoy? Who the fuck does that?”

“It’s not like they did it to be malicious or anything,” I dismissed. “I’m sure it just didn’t occur to them that I’d want to go. That’s all,” I said shakily, crossing my arms around my torso. “It’s fine.”

“That’s not all,” Asher growled. He slapped the steering wheel with his palm. “And it’s not fine. They hurt you, Babe. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care. It’s okay to care.”

I was ready to tell Asher that he was overreacting. That I didn’t care about not getting invited to a group hang out tonight or any other night. (And I knew for a fact that there had been other nights.) But I thought back to the impassioned speech Asher made from his couch while he was injured. I thought about that night a lot lately. It was hard for me to admit it, but I wanted what he had claimed to want to give me. I was just afraid that if I finally admitted that, I’d be setting myself up for disappointment when Asher decided that my vulnerability was a deal-breaker for him.

But instead, I decided to follow Asher’s lead and for once in my life, I took a risk and hoped that it might pay off.

“Well,” I said, the word practically burning my tongue as I spoke. "I care a little."

My admission caught Asher off guard, but he reacted swiftly. “How could you not?” He unhooked his seatbelt and flipped up the armrest. Once the barrier between us was gone, he gathered me up into a hug. “Fuck them for not including you. Fuck them for putting all their work on you. Fuck them for not realizing that they’ve got a fun, great person, who’s a genius at trivia, standing right in front of them. You’re too good for those asshats, Babe.”

I felt tears poke at the back of my eyes and my throat swelled. Asher continued to talk, but I was so flabbergasted by one element of what he said that I didn’t hear any of it. “You think I’m fun? Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Of course I think you’re fun!” Asher pushed me backwards a little bit so we could look into each other’s eyes. “You’re the most fun person I know. We have so much fun together, all the time. You make even the most mundane things an adventure. Something as boring as grocery shopping can be the highlight of my week when I go with you!”

“You’re the only one who would ever say that,” I scoffed, a tear finally leaking out of the corner of one eye. “I know how I come off to people. I know what they think of me. People think I don't. I know, though. I’m ‘abrasive,’ ‘intense,’ 'cold,' ‘intimidating.’ Definitely not ‘fun.’ I really don’t care how I come off to most people. Sometimes, though, I…” My breath hitched. “I don’t know. It makes no sense, but I feel really lonely even though I work in front of an office full of people and even though my phone is full of contacts. It’s like, I keep asking myself, when did I let this happen? How did I let it get like this?” I asked, curling my fingers into Asher’s shirt. “Am I really so off-putting and serious that people just automatically steer clear of me? I never meant to let myself be like that. And if I’m so goddamn intimidating, why do they come to me when they need something done? Is that all I'm good for?”

“No, no, Babe. Not by a long shot.” His words were clipped, an edge to them that I don’t think I had ever heard in his voice before. “There’s nothing wrong with you. You hear me? Nothing. Come here. Yeah, that's it. Right against me now."

I buried my face into Asher’s chest. “Some days it feels like everything is wrong and I don’t know how to fix it.” It was muffled, but he heard me clearly.

“There’s nothing to fix,” he soothed, stroking my back like I often stroked his. As he did so, I realized I had never experienced that particular sensation before. It felt like the purest possible form of serenity. “I know how good you are at fixing things and solving problems, but please believe me when I say, Babe, you are perfect the way you are. You're a warm, kind person who does everything you can to help other people.” His hand rested at the small of my back, kneading gently. “‘Intimidating’ is just another word for ‘badass,’” he assured me.

“Real ‘badass,’” I said sarcastically through tears. “Crying in your arms after you drove all the way out here to pick me up in the middle of an empty parking lot…” I rubbed my eyes. "Stupid," I called myself.

“Babe, I gotta say, I’ve seen you do a lot of badass stuff,” Asher rumbled. “But this whole thing happening here tonight with me might be the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.” He kissed the top of my head for good measure.

“What?” I half-gasped, half-laughed. “That’s nuts.”

“It is not!” he countered. “Look. I know how hard it must be for you to be so open and authentic like this in front of me. We’ve been dating for a while now, and I honestly can’t say I’ve seen you like this before. Letting someone else in, sharing this part of yourself with someone else. I can’t think of anything braver.”

“I don’t feel brave,” I squeaked out. “I feel bad I’m unloading all my shit on you. I’m sor—”

“Don’t say sorry,” Asher ordered. “Because there’s nothing to be sorry about. I’m glad you’re unloading on me like this tonight. That's hardcore badass, Babe. I don’t care if we’re in a parked car at your work or in a train packed full of people or even some abandoned cornfield in the middle of winter. I am always here for you."

I took a shaky breath as I processed Asher's words. "Thank you."

"No, thank you," he echoed playfully, poking at my chest..

I twisted my head to look at Asher. "For what?"

"For letting me in tonight," he said plainly. "Knowing that you trust me with this side of you? Knowing that you feel safe enough with me to share what's going on inside that big brain of yours? It's special, Babe. Really special. I know it's hard for you to let yourself be…" He stumbled for the right words. "A little bit vulnerable. I mean, with the life you've lived, that's a perfectly valid way to cope and you've become so strong. And you made such a good life for yourself since then."

His vague mention of my childhood showed me his concussed ramblings were not just random thoughts. It was almost impossible for me to believe that anyone would think to look beyond the cold exterior I portrayed.

"But it comes with its drawbacks. And I worry about you sometimes. A lot, actually," continued Asher.

"You worry about me?" I said dumbfoundedly. "You’re the only one who…” I trailed off. “Nobody had ever worried about me in a really long time. Almost feels like forever," I noted. "I… I don't even know what to say."

"Wow, I don't think you've ever been speechless before, Babe," Asher teased. He adjusted against the back of the carseat. Lying against him, both of us at an awkward angle to be as near each other as possible should have been so uncomfortable, but in that moment, it was the most comfortable I think I had ever felt. "You don't have to say anything. Just let me hold you. I got you, okay?"

"Okay," I agreed, melting against Asher. "Okay, I will."

"Good, good," he praised in a slow, low voice. “I'm right here with you. I'll protect you from anything. You're safe." He held me close against his strong body.

"You don't mind?" I gave him one last chance to retreat from my sudden burst of emotions, barely hanging onto my composure.

"I’m happy to be of service," Asher answered honestly.

That phrase, usually so bland and common when I said it, suddenly sounded like a symphony and I nuzzled into him closer. A sob tore at my throat.

"I know it's hard for you to let go sometimes, Babe," Asher sympathized. "And I’d never want to tell you to do something you don’t want to do. But, I think I know you well enough to know this is something you want. Something you need, too. Am I right?”

“Mhmm,” I said, clinging even tighter to him if it were possible. My shoulders shuddered with every breath and the pressure from his strong hands did not let up for one moment.

“It’s okay, Babe. It’s okay. Let go and know I'm here to catch you," Asher recited like poetry. “I’ve got you. You're safe. I’m here.”

Asher patiently waited until I emptied myself of everything that had been building up in me that night and, if I were being completely honest, everything that had built up in me over the years. After what felt like hours to me, I fell silent.

“I love you so much, Babe.” Asher let his thumb track back and forth across the knuckles of my left hand. “Thank you for letting me be here for you like this.”

“Thank me? Thank you,” I said, finding a little levity returned to my voice. Completely in sync, we pushed ourselves up so we were sitting straighter, though our bodies remained pressed against each other. “You’re the one who came and rescued me today, in more ways than one.”

“Asher 1, Babe 6,926,” he laughed. “Not that I’m keeping score or anything.” Asher turned his face to mine and let his free hand find its way to my cheek. “But I mean it. Thank you for letting me be here with you for this. Really. It’s… God, I don’t know if I can even explain it. Y’see, I…” His lips twisted as he started and stopped each thought. “I don’t… Look, what I mean is, I don’t like that you feel like this. At all. I mean, if I could, I’d make it so you could be happy all the time, Babe. You know that! But I’m also living in the real world. And I know I can’t protect you from everything and everyone in the world. But to know that when you’re going through shit like this that you feel comfortable enough to let me be here with you, to let me see you in a light that no one else gets to see? To know you trust me like this?” He kissed my neck, traveling up to my cheek. “It means so much to me, Babe. I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I responded. It was the complete and utter truth. “I’m glad you recognize what a big deal this is for me.” I smiled, relishing his kisses. It was probably the first genuine smile that broke out on my face since Asher sustained his concussion. “Saves me the trouble of having to explain it to you.”

Asher giggled at my playful jibe. “You and me.” He pointed at his head then at mine. “Connected like a couple of telepaths.”

“That’s us, Honey.” I patted his chest. “Can you guess what I’m thinking right now?”

Asher closed his eyes and placed a hand on his temple. His eyes popped open as he gasped. “Oh, naughty, Babe! You’re such a freak! I dig it. Right here and now? Well, if you insist...”

“Hmm, I was thinking we could do that later when we’re somewhere warmer.” A tiny tendril of desire snaked its way around my core when I saw how my promise excited him. I wagged my finger at Asher and mirrored his Telepath pose. “Are you getting my signal now?”

Asher narrowed his eyes and dipped his head towards mine. “You’re thinking… That we should go get some burritos and head back to your place? Is that it?”

“Yes, exactly! My treat tonight. I’ll even spring for extra guac.” I leaned into Asher and we kissed, slowly and deeply. “Thank you,” I whispered. “For everything you do, for who you are.”

“Right back at you, Babe.” He kissed me before buckling both my seatbelt and his. “Now let’s go get some steak burritos.” As he put the car in drive, Asher let his gaze linger on me for a moment before he pressed the gas pedal. We were not even out of the parking lot before he said, “Babe, you’ve got Sunday off, right?”

“Yeah,” I said, surprised. Usually, Asher was barely able to plan for things that happened in the next two hours. “I take it that means you’re working all day Sunday, huh? I mean, that’s how our schedules tend to work.”

“Actually, I’m off, too,” Asher grinned. “What do you say we take a day trip out of the city? Get away from everything for a little while. We can see the leaves change color, bring lunch with us,” he imagined. “Just the two of us. How’s that sound?” He tried and failed to appear nonchalant.

“Sounds perfect,” I responded.

“Hell yeah it does, Babe!” Asher pumped his fist triumphantly. “And, maybe there will be a surprise or two."

“A surprise? Ooh!” I raised an eyebrow. “What kind of surprise?”

“I’m not going to ruin it!” he pouted.

“Just give me a hint,” I begged. “Please?”

“Fine, fine,” Asher relented, cracking quicker than I had anticipated. “One hint, but that’s all, okay? You have to promise you won’t keep chipping away at this because I will totally fold and then everything will be ruined.”

“Fine, fine,” I agreed, holding my hand over my heart. I was pleasantly surprised to find that for once, it was warm. “I promise.”

“Good,” Asher acknowledged, trusting me completely just as I trusted him completely. “I want us to go somewhere special because I want to ask you something really, really important.” He put his finger to his lips. "And that's all you're getting out of me."

A brief memory of Asher's concussed ramblings mentioning a certain important question entered my mind, but I said nothing. After all, I couldn't be sure that's what he was planning, and I didn't want to jinx anything even though I had a strong feeling of what he was talking about and an even stronger feeling that all I wanted to do was say 'yes.' Still, if Asher wanted to wait so he could stage some sort of fun day together, I was more than willing to let him do that.

In that case, I was happy to be of service.