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The moment Courtney’s foot slipped and she went hurtling towards the ground, she had a sinking feeling there would be consequences.
She collided hard and slid, her knee and arm taking the brunt of the fall before dragging across the floor another half-foot for good measure. Immediately her palm and forearm stung and ached, her knee throbbing. She slowly tried to straighten her leg out and sucked in a breath at the heated rush of pain. It was certainly enough to make her leery of putting weight on it and trying to stand. She took in another shaky breath and despite her best efforts to hold them back, frustrated tears pricked at her eyes.
The pain wasn’t the source of her distress- it hurt, but her pain tolerance was high; she wasn’t even embarrassed- the stampeding of feet coming toward her after her painful landing belonged to people who cared about and respected her, used to her silly and quirky behavior. No, it was the potential injury to her knee and it meant for her weekend plans with Shayne that had her positive exterior finally cracking.
Tommy, Arasha, and Chance came running, concern clear in their expressions, voices overlapping. Before she could begin processing the sudden sensory overload, her husband gently pushed through their friends, face creased into a worried frown. The frown lines only deepened when he noticed her tears, tenderly cupping her cheek and brushing away the tear tracks with his thumb. Courtney sniffled softly and turned her face to kiss his palm. Shayne’s lips curved with the tiniest hint of a smile in reply, his free arm wrapping around her and pulling her up into his lap. She let her forehead fall to his shoulder, clinging tightly to his t-shirt. His hand moved from her cheek to card through her hair, lips pressing to her forehead. She could hear a mixture of extra voices nearby- Cassie, Marcus, Erin- someone mentioning a first aid kit, and over his shoulder, she could soon see Amanda was speed-walking toward them with one in hand.
Shayne gave his podcast partner a grateful smile and quietly thanked her, pulling Court closer as he hooked the arm not curled around her back under her knees, lifting her effortlessly in a bridal carry as he stood, taking the kit from Amanda. Courtney tucked her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Her breath stuttered and quickened as she tried desperately to keep from sobbing, the occasional traitorous tear still managing to leak out.
Shayne’s voice was steady and calm as he spoke to their coworkers, saving her from having to speak, his hold sure and strong as he began to walk them away. She tried her best to steady her breathing as he went, not wanting to give him more cause for concern, clinging tighter and breathing him in, hoping to center herself. The odd echo of creaking metal hinges over tile walls announced their entrance into a bathroom. Shayne locked the door behind them and sat himself down on the closed toilet seat, resting her sideways in his lap and cuddling her close.
“It’s just you and me now, Court. Let it out if you need to. I’m right here, I’ve got you.”
She trembled as if cold, one shudder following after another, and she broke, letting her brave face fall in the safety of his arms. She shook with quiet sobs, tears soaking the fabric of his shirt. He rocked them gently back and forth, his voice soft as he kept up a steady stream of soothing reassurance, falling to the side of nonsensical as she focused more on the sound of his voice than the content of his words. It worked either way, as she cared little for sensical things at that moment. Her anchor was just the sheer evidence of him being there: the reverberating of his voice through the chest she was resting against, the hand rubbing gentle circles on her back.
His lips pressed to the crown of her head, a soft exhale from his nose ruffling a few flyaway hairs. “Remember to breathe, baby. Just breathe for me.”
Courtney nodded, attempting to take deep, clear breaths in between sobbing gasps and sniffles. She nestled closer, pressing her ear to his cheat in search of his heartbeat, the gentle thump-thump-thump as soothing and steadfast as everything else belonging to him, the man who’d promised to love and cherish her for the rest of their lives.
Shayne’s arms have spelled safety and sanctuary from the moment he first held her with intention all those years ago, a short while into their Defy years when one of the smarmy suits had hit on her rather inappropriately, and took the rejection less than gracefully. Courtney stood her ground and went straight to Ian at the first opportunity, but it was Shayne who hadn't hesitated to open his arms to her the moment she got back to the Squad office and the adrenaline wore off, leaving her anxious and teary. She felt safe from the moment she stepped into his arms, body strong and warm against her, his hands carefully keeping to appropriate places, remaining gentle even when he tensed in anger at her quiet explanation. That was the day she switched from nursing a harmless crush on a taken coworker to forging one of the deepest friendships of her adult life.
Of course, she fell for him again later down the road, deeper and more significant the second time around, but along the way, that tight bond and sense of safety never wavered.
As she worked on better processing her anxiety over the years of their relationship, Shayne was a touchstone of reassurance, always there for every panic attack or stress dream. He would wrap his arms around her, holding her close against the solid reassurance of his body. Soft kisses to her forehead or temple were as predictable as they were welcome, hands gentle as he stroked her hair, voice low and soothing as he spoke to her, assuring her of his presence and support, always waiting patiently for her to slowly calm and melt back into his embrace.
Years ago, everything could be made right in her world by lullabies and storybooks, her mother’s fussing and her father’s bear hugs. Such simple reassurances were a thing of childhood past, but in Shayne she could again find that home she’d spent all her young adult years craving, that stability, comfort, and warmth her past relationships always seemed to lack. Now, whenever she rested close in his arms, she could trace her hands over the contours of his body, knowing every mark and line like the pages of a favorite book, every inch of skin telling a story she would spend her life following. His heartbeat was the world’s sweetest lullaby, strong and constant as Shayne himself, never failing her in its steady rhythm.
She remained lying against him after she calmed down, face buried in his shirt after he’d used some tissue to wipe her face and let her blow her nose. She mimicked his breathing, slow and deep, eyes closed as he stroked her hair. They sat together in the comfortable silence for several minutes before Shayne shifted reluctantly and stood up, lifting her with him once again.
He sat her down in his place and went to the sink to wash his hands, returning a moment later to kneel down beside her, first aid kit in hand. “Alright, honey, let’s take a look.”
The palms of her hands and her outer arm remained red and tender, all sign of friction burns without any actual scrapes. He went back to the sink to wet a few paper towels with cool water, wrapping them around her hands to help soothe the irritated skin. He was gentle as he could be rolling up her pant leg, though earning an unavoidable hiss of pain when the material caught on the injured spot.
Shayne was full of apologies even as she assured him it couldn't be helped, looking troubled. Unable to touch her without having to get up and rewash his hands, he tipped his forehead to hers, affectionately nuzzling her nose with his. She giggled softly and shifted to kiss him properly, lingering sweetly before they reluctantly parted.
He rolled the pant leg up the last few inches to reveal a fair-sized scrape and a rapidly-forming bruise, marking the lower thigh just above the kneecap.
He frowned, reaching for cotton rounds and antiseptic from the kit. “If it still hurts when you try standing again, I think you’ll be limping for a couple days, baby.”
Her face fell, sighing heavily as he began cleaning the wound. The scrape would be a nuisance, but thankfully the skin had only broken in a few places, what little bleeding there was already done. Wiping away the small smears of blood, he looked up and met her eyes, brow furrowed with concern. “Wanna talk about it? I don’t want to assume too much, but that felt like a stress cry.”
Courtney rolled their eyes and smiled a little, even reluctant as she was to talk honestly. “You can assume plenty, dummy. You’ve known me for almost a decade and we’re literally married.”
Normally off-screen, he’d fire back to some iteration of “idiot,” “dummy,” or “stupid,” with a reminder that she “let this dummy put a ring on it,” but Shayne recognized the attempt at distraction for what it was. He locked eyes with her once more, his soft baby blues serious and concerned. “Court.”
Another heavy sigh, and she gave in. “It’s been such a long week…I’ve really been looking forward to this weekend.”
After the Sitcom Live, things around Smosh hit a brief lull of regular programming and goofing off on social media. But their schedule started to ramp up going into summer, and June hit them all like a wrecking ball. Between organizing for Vidcon and prepping for Ian and Anthony’s upcoming hiatus, there was hardly room to breathe, Courtney’s birthday week being no exception. Most celebrating with close friends and family happened the weekend before, but there were plenty of others outside her inner circle seeking her out for lunch or coffee dates in what little free time she had. Emphasis on little, as shoot week was happening early to accommodate Vidcon. It was finally Friday, the end of day so close Courtney could practically feel the breeze in her hair as she and Shayne drove down the coast to San Diego and left Smosh behind for their long weekend. The forecast called for clear skies and temps no higher than 80 °F , perfect for their various lowkey plans to explore and sightsee. Or, it would be perfect, if she could spend hours walking around the city.
Shayne’s expression was sympathetic and soft as he gently applied a thin layer of antibiotic ointment across the scrape, then securely affixed a large adhesive pad. He briefly got up to wash his hands again but crouched back down beside her a moment later, hands resting against her thighs. “It sucks and I totally get why you’re disappointed, baby. But just so I know what our next step should be, do me a favor and check back in with your brain if you feel up to it. Where do you think we’re at on the stress scale?”
She paused and did just that, cocking her head slightly as she thought. “Hmm…think we’ve moved from an eight to a four.” Her nose wrinkled, tongue sticking out in disgust, as she made a face. “Ugh, I hate catastrophizing. Stupid brain.”
He cocked an eyebrow, flicking a finger against her forehead. Her narrowing eyes was his only warning to move his hand out of range when she snapped her teeth at the offending finger. “Remember what Priya said. Things your brain tells you can be stupid or dumb, but your brain itself isn’t. You are not stupid.” Watching the wheels turn in her beautiful head, he began listing off preemptive measures. “You are not overreacting. You are not too much. You are not an inconvenience. Am I missing any? You know I’m ready to fight ‘em.”
She huffed out a small, watery laugh as she shook her head, gazing at him fondly. “No, I think you covered it.” She reached up to twine her arms around his neck, kissing him gently. “Still sucks, though. I know a lot of the shopping stuff was for my birthday and I can live without it, but this weekend is also for our three-months. I can’t see you getting to enjoy our anniversary trip very much if we can’t be up and active.”
“One: they have a decent gym and the weather’s supposed to be perfect for the pool. Two: all I need to celebrate you and celebrate us is to have you with me.”
“Awww. Get any sweeter, babe, and we’ll be booking the dentist instead.”
“Funny,” he deadpanned, though a small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes warm and adoring. Whatever their growing pains in the beginning regarding physical affection and words of affirmation, it was always Shayne’s eyes that gave away how he felt about her. His smile grew the longer she held his gaze. “We work too hard, anyway. Let’s just lay out by the pool for a few days, maybe get massages. We can still get dolled up and go out to eat a couple times, so it still feels like we’re celebrating. Whatcha say?”
“Sounds like a perfect weekend.” She toyed with the fine hairs at his nape, lightly scratching her nails up and down his neck. He shivered and Courtney smirked. “Come to think of it, remember those big California kings they were advertising on the site? Maybe I don’t have to worry about you getting bored, after all.”
She scooted forward on the seat and wrapped her legs around his torso, knees hugging either side of his ribs. She kissed him again, still perfectly work-appropriate but more thoroughly this time, pulling away with a soft bite to his lower lip. “Yeah, I think we can keep you plenty active.”
Shayne’s eyes fluttered back open and he looked a little dazed, licking his lips as he let out a shaky laugh. “God, I love you.”
“I love you too.” Courtney took in a deep breath, squaring back her shoulders and straightening her back in determination. “Okay, just one more video.”
“Just one more. Not a bad way to end the day either; we both love Werewolf.” He grinned, boyish and sweet. “You and me, Court? We got this. Always.”
She smiled, knowing the look on her face must be so incredibly soppy and not finding it in herself to care. She was so unbelievably gone on this dork, and she couldn’t be happier about it. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team, don’t we?”
“Of course. Isn’t that why you married me?”
“Part of it. You’re also pretty cute, and you’ve got a nice ass. So win-win.”
Shayne chuckled and brushed his mouth against hers, letting the ghost of a kiss linger for a moment before reluctantly climbing to his feet, wincing as his knees cracked. He lifted his arms and stretched, offering her a hand. “We’ve still got about forty-five minutes until we need to be on the Games stage. You wanna find somewhere more hygienic and cuddle for a while?”
“Sounds perfect.”