Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

So, you broke your phone.

It was an honest mistake, really! It was just another mission fighting Wanderers that went wrong. You didn’t get hurt, but unfortunately, your phone didn’t make it. It ended up in pieces — literally — and you were fighting back the tears as you walked back to the Association, the metal corpse weighing heavy in your hands. When you walked through the Association doors, Tara’s gasp shocked so many people that they thought you got hurt instead of your cell phone.

“How are you going to survive?” Tara asked you, hands covering her mouth as she inspects the metal parts on the plastic table in the break room.

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, arms crossed over your chest. You remembered Tara was more devastated about your phone than you were.

“What about all of your pictures? All of your contacts? Everything is gone! You heard Andrew. He said that it is next to impossible to reassemble your phone, let alone salvage the memory card!”

Well, shit. She did have a point. All of your pictures with you and your fruit vendor boyfriend. The late night texts just as he was getting up for the beginning of his day while you were about to end yours. All of the tired voicemails he left for you when you were gone on your longer missions. Fuck, you were even going to lose your secret photo album that consists of pictures of a sleeping Sylus, a man who simply couldn’t be bothered to wake up since he feels so safe around you.

You had lost it all and, well, you were devastated to say the least.

You walked back to your apartment and placed the phone parts on your kitchen counter. Before that, you stopped by your cell phone carrier’s store and placed a new order. Somehow, as fate would have it, all of the cell phones in Linkon — or just at the nearby stores — were backordered. Something about the new version being released so everyone and their mother wants to have one.

You are going to be without a phone for at least a week. That honestly sounds like pure hell to you.

You stare at the ceiling after plopping down in your bed. The ceiling fan slowly turns, your eyes following the blades as they spin in their perpetual cycle. You tried to watch television earlier but none of the shows tickled your fancy. You tried doing a puzzle but that just grew too frustrating. None of the books on your shelves stuck out to you either and what turned out to be a punishment for being careless teetered into something more. Something just absolutely torturous. While left alone with the silence of your apartment, you had no way to talk to your boyfriend.

You didn’t have one of those refrigerators that could somehow find a way to make a post on social media for him to see nor did you have any kind of creativity to send some kind of smoke signal for him to spot from the N109 Zone.

You did have the creativity, though, when it comes to your imagination. You could lay in bed all day and simply imagine scenarios to pass the time by. Letting out an exasperated and dramatic sigh, you shove your windows open and drape yourself on the edge, your eyes meeting the Linkon horizon. Just in the distance sits the N109 Zone, the tall and dark skyscrapers contrasting against the bright blue sky. You extend your hand out, pretending as if you could pluck Sylus from Onychinus’ base and drag him back to your apartment. You sigh and close your eyes, allowing your imagination to take over.

Two lovers separated by an event that was out of their hands. The princess is now trapped inside of the tall castle. The castle is guarded by many knights and horses, willing to stop at nothing to keep the knight from the kingdom of Onychinus away from their princess. There are treacherous lands that separate the knight from his princess, including the old maid who lives on the first floor of the tower who aims to marry the knight to someone who isn’t the princess.

“Caw! Caw!”

The sound of fluttering wings and a familiar voice catch your attention. You open up one eye and see a black crow flying towards you. A smile spreads across your face. You straighten your back and outstretch your hand. The bird’s little feet easily catch onto your finger and he gives you a loud caw as a thank you.

“Mephisto,” you smile down at the bird, drawing him inside of your apartment. You walk towards the couch and sit down, the crow making himself at home on the very special bird perch you bought for him awhile back. “What is the purpose of your visit? Business? Or pleasure?”

“Caw!” Mephisto flaps his wings.

“Ah! Business it is!” you continue your banter with the bird and slightly narrow your eyes at his. “Let me guess, is he watching right now?”

“Caw! Caw!”

“Ah! He is!” you clap your hands together, a newfound excitement fluttering in your chest. You jump to your feet and look down at the crow, who looks very eager to come and join you. A small plan begins to form in your head, something that will help ease the princess’ pain and gives you something to do until your phone is delivered.“Please, my dear Mephie! Allow your wings some rest!” your voice has suddenly turned to the accent a princess usually would, holding a playful tone while you dramatically run to your room. “I’ll be right back! I promise!”

Sylus was amused on the other end of the live video feed. His smile is big and his red eyes are vibrant from excitement. He loves watching you and your playful spirit. The video feed from Mephisto turns away from your image and back to the rest of your apartment. Mephisto blinks a few times, his head on a swivel as Sylus leans in close to the computer screen, taking in the sight of your apartment.

“Before you can ask,” Sylus speaks to the crow, knowing that the bird is listening to his every word, “the answer is yes: you are allowed to take the gems she has so clearly hidden for you. Go crazy.”

Mephisto excitedly caws and begins his maddening search around your apartment while you remain hidden in your bedroom. The man glances down at his phone, your text conversation with him on the screen. He has texted you at least three times since you were supposed to come back from your mission from the No Hunt Zone. Those messages were not returned and, well, Sylus was admittedly worried that something happened to you. That you somehow got hurt and needed his help. Sylus even set an alarm that woke him up earlier than usual just so he could make for sure that you came home safe.

He texted you a few times after that, trying to come up with the excuse of needing your help with one of his business deals, that it may have information that the Association would want about illegal protocores. That usually got you responding in a matter of minutes. He even placed his phone face down on his desk while pretending that he totally didn’t care about your message with the hope that it would somehow make you answer any faster.

Sylus stands from his desk, eyes moving up as the door to his office opens up. Luke and Kieran come stumbling inside, their laughs and snickers a familiar sound that Sylus honestly welcomes. He enjoys the chaos that they bring with them. It makes Onychinus feel less…lonely when you aren’t here.

“Boss!” Luke is the first to speak up. He waves to Sylus, who simply nods his head in response. “You’re up early? Or is it late?”

“Is there something important that you need us to do?” Kieran asks after slapping Luke on the back of the head.

“No,” Sylus shakes his head, the smile remaining on his face.

He glances at the computer screen, watching as Mephisto collects rare gems that Sylus has gifted to you over the months. His heart feels warm and full at the sight. There is a lingering feeling of confusion, though, that sits in the back of his mind. The question as to why you aren’t answering his calls and texts has him worried. Did he do something wrong? Is this one of those times you are trying to…what’s the word you used with him that he simply couldn’t understand? Ragebait? Are you trying to ragebait him? Or are you so tired that you haven’t had the energy to—

“Okay, Mephie,” your voice comes from the computer’s speaker. Sylus’ attention immediately fixates on the screen, the man lowering himself back onto the chair. Luke and Kieran giggle with each other but he pays them no mind, watching as you appear on the screen with…what in the hell is that?

You hold a small white piece of paper in your hand. It is rolled into a cylinder and is tied up with the red ribbon that he gave you earlier that week. The bow is perfectly made and looks like it came straight out of a romance novel. Mephisto flies towards you, landing on the perch. You drop to your knees, the smile on your face never leaving, has you very gently attach the paper to his little leg.

“Take care of my message, Mephisto,” you reach out and gently pat the mechanical crow’s head, “make sure my knight gets my message.”

My knight?

Sylus raises an eyebrow, his heart skipping a beat. That was the first time he has ever heard you refer to him as such a name. Sure, he can be your knight, but you must know that a man of his stature is more suited towards a dragon than hero.

Sylus turns to the twins who were just about to leave the office. He clears his throat and the boys freeze, slowly turning around to look at their boss. Sylus narrows his eyes at them and the corners of his lips perks up when he gives them their very first order: “Get the castle ready.”

It was mere minutes later when Mephisto arrived with your gift. The crow flies through the open window, its wings flapping and fluttering through the quiet hallways. The bird turns the corner and glides into Sylus’ office, making himself at home on the man’s shoulder. Sylus smiles, amused by the red ribbon that hangs from the rolled up piece of paper. He plucks it from Mephisto’s leg. The bird gives Sylus a caw and flies towards his designated spot in the office, a perch up in the corner of the room.

He slowly unwinds the paper. The more and more he uncovers, the more and more the office begins to smell like you and that perfume he bought for you. The sweet smells of pomegranate, honey, and sandalwood fills his nose. His body immediately relaxes, eyes closing as he smells that you have very clearly sprayed onto the paper. A gift for him to hang onto while he slowly uncovers this plan you have come up with because with you, there is always something to be on the lookout for.

Sylus opens his eyes and looks down at the piece of paper. Your handwriting is cute, much more legible compared to his cursive style. His red eyes scan over the letters, not reading the words quite yet, but rather savoring this piece of yourself that you put on the paper in front of him.

My Knight Sylus,

Oh, how I miss your handsome face. Those ruby eyes. You are everything that I dream of and more. I yearn to be by your side and bask in the glory of your kingdom but alas, a vast abyss must keep us separated during times like these.

I have found myself in a rather tricky situation, my knight, one that I must inform you through this letter. My usual mode of communication has been obliterated into bits and pieces. So, I thought that my knight and I could communicate like they do in fairy tales. The ones where a princess and her love have been separated.

I am so lonely in this tower and with each passing second, I miss you more and more. I wish to return to my knight’s side, but I am trapped in this tower with no escape. Perhaps, my knight will come save me one of these days?

With much love and adoration,

Your Princess

P.S., my patience only lasts so long. I may run off with a prince if you keep me waiting!

Sylus has never smiled bigger. He gently places the piece of paper onto the wooden desk in front of him. His cheeks are warm from a light blush, the idea of you as a princess waiting for him to show up. Will you toss him down your hair? Or must be fight an ogre in order to get inside of your apartment building? He clears his throat and grabs a nearby piece of paper. He slips a knife free from the desk drawer and slices it in half, grabbing a nearby pen to begin his letter for you.

Mephisto watches from the metal tree Sylus crafted for him. The crow prefers the comfortable one in your apartment but alas, he cannot complain. He turns away from Sylus and looks out the window. The sun has begun to go down and the once light blues have been replaced with dark oranges and purples as nighttime takes over the sky.

“Mephisto,” Sylus says after rolling the piece of paper up. He grabbed a small vial of his cologne from the desk, always having it on him just in case he needed to freshen up before a meeting or before you came to visit from the N109 Zone. The bird flies towards the white haired man and lands on his shoulder. Sylus silently attaches the letter to Mephisto’s neck, using ruby bracelet as something to hold it in place. “Deliver this to her. What until she sends something back.”

“Caw! Caw Caw!”

Mephisto departs from the window in Sylus’ office, his wings flapping up and down in its usual rhythm while heading back towards Linkon city. The bird is weighed down by the ruby bracelet but he keeps up his speed, suing the wind to carry in for most of the distance. His beady little black eyes make contact with the sight of your apartment building. There is light coming from your bedroom.

You are laying in bed, a small smile on your face since you know your letter is in good hands. A fuzzy blanket is draped across your body and you are wearing one of Sylus’ old shirts, one that he tried to throw away but you snuck it into your bag before you left his home. You bring the collar of the shirt to your nose, slowly inhaling the leftover scent of Sylus’ detergent. You close your eyes. The ache in your body begins to subside, the tension leaving your body with each passing second.

There’s a tap at your window. Your eyes open once again, one eyebrow perked up. Mephisto catches your eye, his chirps and caws muffled through the window. You immediately get out of bed and rush towards the window, opening it up so the bird can come inside. You catch him on your hand, his tiny little feet clinging onto your fingers.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile on your face. You look at a tiny piece of paper that is attached to the bracelet. A quiet gasp leaves your mouth. You slip them from Mephisto’s body and watch as he flies to his favorite place in your apartment, making himself at home. “Ah, so that’s what you’re doing here.”

You rush back to your desk, plopping into the chair. You turn on your lamp, the warm and golden tones from the lightbulb illuminating the immediate area. You slowly unravel the piece of paper, Sylus’ cologne filling your nose. You let out a sigh of content. You do not wait or bask in the moment, though, ready to devour the words he has written to you.

My lovely princess,

I miss you as well. Your beauty simply knows no bounds and I cannot wait for my eyes to lay on your face once again. Please accept this bracelet as a gift to make up for my absence.

Must I ask about what happened with your old form of communication? Please know that your dragon may provide a replacement for you if your heart desires. I prefer seeing you work so hard to talk to me, though. I must admit that a part of me loves to see my princess lay her soul bare in her previous letter.

Also, I would not consider myself a prince. You know me. I am merely a fiend that wishes to keep his princess happy. A dragon that wishes to keep his most precious treasure locked away from those who can hurt her. I will save you from the tower you condemn but know that my armor comes with wings and an everlasting bond.

I wish to see you soon. As your dragon knight, I must inform my princess that my arrival will be sooner than you think. I have to deal with some previous arrangements but I will be there to slay the ogres and villains that keep you trapped at home.

You have my heart, please know that,

Your Dragon Knight

P.S., would you prefer a horse drawn carriage or to fly away with me once I save you from that wretched tower?

A squeal leaves your lips. This serious man that Sylus portrays is all a facade, a persona to keep his enemies afraid of him. If only they knew of the man who immediately gave into your antics and played along with your imagination. Sylus has always been the first to indulge in your desires but this? This is just perfection.

He said that he would be here sooner than you expected! What could that mean? Will he be here in a matter of hours or days? Do you need to pack anything for this bold escape that he has planned?

Never mind that! You have a letter to write!

Sylus has busied himself with preparations of your escape from the tower. He has remained on the phone with Luke and Kieran, informing them of your destination to his castle and the duration of the visit. The twins are already stocking the fridge full of food and ingredients. The twins are also cleaning the home, freeing it of dust and cleaning all of the sheets. Hell, the twins were also delighted to place candles all over the place to fit the “medieval” vibe that their boss described to them.

While they were doing that, Sylus was quietly ordering you a whole new wardrobe to be delivered to the castle. The last time the two of you were at the castle, you were on a job while he just so happened to cross your path. He took you to the dragon bones in the valley, one of the few places on the planet where he feels a special connection with. A connection apart from you, of course.

The smile has yet to fall from his face. It doesn’t falter when the twins inform him that they accidentally broke an ancient vase that came with the castle when he bought it.

He glances to the as soon as Mephisto flies in. He takes the piece of paper from the crow and carefully rolls it out. The scent is different this time. A new perfume, perhaps? Something to keep him on his toes, that’s for sure.

My Dragon Knight,

Please accept my humblest apologies for the lack of “dragon” in my previous letter. I was not aware that you wished to join in on the fun. Since you get to be a dragon knight, then I wish to be Sorceress!

And this Sorceress would love to fly away with you. Who needs a carriage when I have my fearsome Dragon to take care of me?

When do I get to see you? I am eagerly awaiting your response, my love. My heart aches knowing that this much distance has been put between us.

I must catch up on my rest though, my good Dragon. I hope to receive a letter from you soon.

Until I see you again,

Your Sorceress

P.S., I would like to humbly request that you provide your sorceress with a new shirt for her to steal…thank you!

Sylus’ heart flutters. He tries to contain his smile, to force himself back into the cold persona he usually wears round the base but it is simply of no use. The man places your letter beside the other one in his desk drawer, delicately placing it inside. He closes it and looks up at the mechanical bird that sits on his desk. Mephisto blinks his eyes at Sylus as if he is awaiting a reward.

“Did she say that I would give you something?” Sylus asks, amused.

“Caw!” Mephisto replies. Sylus laughs and shakes his head, unable to contain his amusement.

“Alright, alright,” Sylus calms himself down. He gestures to the open door. “You can pick out two jewels from my collection. Then we’re even for delivering the letters, yes?”

“Caw! Caw!” Mephisto cries out with a happy flap of his wings. He flies away and leaves Sylus behind.

Sylus sits down at his desk. He clears his throat and grabs the extra piece of long paper, grabbing his pen and writing a simple message on it.

You fell asleep in a matter of minutes. As soon as you let Mephisto go, watching him disappear into the night sky, you got back into bed and made yourself at home under the covers and blankets. Sylus’ shirt hugged you despite it being loose on your body. It brought you through comfort that you needed to, well, pass the fuck out.

The sun is bright in the morning. You forgot to close the curtain after Mephisto’s departure but the sight of a bright and Sunday day in Linkon is enough to accept your fate of waking up early. You sit up in bed and stretch out your arms and legs. A quiet groan falls from your lips and you let out an extra huff of air, a smile forming on your face.

You hop out of bed and open up the window, allowing the fresh morning air to greet you like an old friend. You close your eyes and keep your head poked out of the window, listening to the nearby ambiance of the city. Today is going to be a good day. You can feel it in your bones. It is just too bad that Sylus is probably asleep right now and isn’t on his way to come get you.

Alas, the Sorceress must wait until her Dragon arrives.

Something just out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. A black box with a red ribbon on top, the same one that you wrapped the first note in. Mephisto caws from the side of you. You smile at him, your heartbeat quickening. You reach for it and slowly pull the top of the box off. Inside sits a brand new phone. On top of the sleek screen is a small rolled up piece of paper. You grab it and slowly unravel the note, your heart skipping a beat.

My Beautiful Sorceress,

You look so beautiful. Even when you’re asleep, you are the most beautiful woman to ever exist. I am so lucky to have you in my life.

I decided to solve your communication problem. I took the old parts of your device and recovered all of your messages and memories. They await you in your new phone.

I wait for you too. I wish to see my love, my heart…the woman I live to serve.

Forever waiting for you,

Your Fierce Dragon Knight

P.S., I know it isn’t a horse drawn carriage nor is it a flight among the clouds, but…

The sound of a motorcycle engine catches your attention. You gasp, holding the letter close to your chest. You rush towards the window with the new phone in your hand.

Sylus swings his leg off of the motorcycle. He wears black pants and a white shirt. A smile sits on his face as he looks up at you, waving his phone in the air. He brings it to his ear and his eyes never leave yours.

The device in your hand begins to vibrate. The screen lights up, an image of you and Sylus at an auction appearing as the wallpaper. His name sits on the top of the screen with a red heart and dragon emoji next to his name. Your eyes move back down to the picture, knowing that it’s what he chose as his new contact photo.

It is Sylus’ favorite photo of you two, the one he always looks to when he wishes to see your face. The two of you are sitting side by side. Sylus’ arm is draped around your waist, his hand resting on your stomach. You lean into him with a bright smile on your face, staring at the camera while he looks down at you. Your hand rests on his chest and a big, diamond ring sits on your finger. He has never looked prouder than he does in the photo with you showing off his new gift.

You click the green button and slowly bring the phone to your ear, looking down at the man who waits for you down below.

“Good morning, sorceress,” Sylus’ voice is deep and husky. It shocks your body back to life, a ball of heat igniting in your chest. “I have slain all of our enemies. The ogres didn’t stand a chance and all that’s left are the faeries who aided me in my battle to rescue you.”

“What are you doing here?” you ask, your tone gentle and filled with love and adoration. “I thought it was going to be a few days before I could see you.”

“I live to surprise my sorceress,” Sylus says, his voice smug and cocky. “I did say that I would come sooner than you expected. Did you not read the letter I sent?”

“Sylus,” you shake your head as laughter falls from your lips, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you,” he sighs into the phone, expression softening. “I hoped to steal you back to my castle for the weekend. I thought we could have time for the two of us. I even bought you an outfit for the occasion. After all, I did vanquish all of your enemies. The sorceress is free to leave the confines of her tower with her dragon if she so wishes.”

“I love you, Sylus,” you breathe into the phone, already ready to embark on this adventure with him.

“I love you too. Now come on, your Dragon wishes to show his Sorceress all of his treasures.”

Chapter Text

The mission went wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

It was a simple mission, too! One that you have done so many times before in the past. It was at a place you knew — the Nest — and you even knew the man you were buying the protocores from. The only new variable? The new UNICORNS rookie Jenna sent with you on the mission. His name is Derek and he’s just an idiot. You’re not even sure how he was able to get onto the UNICORNS team. You asked Tara back at the Association to pull his files while you waited in the car. Derek was passed out in the passenger seat and didn’t even wake up when cars honked at you.

Turns out he’s another Nepo baby. One that hails directly from the Hunter’s Association’s president. Of course this had to happen.

When the mission started, things wet south real quick. One minute, you and your co-worker were pretending to be criminals interested in buying illegal protocores, and the next you woke up in the hospital with a raging headache. It was like a fever dream, to say the least. One that instantly knocked you out after Derek accidentally slammed the metal protocore case right in the middle of your forehead.

A groan falls from your lips as soon as the bright lights of the hospital room hit your sensitive eyes. You wince. Pain sears itself into the back of your eyes, the familiar ache of your mistakes settling into your bones. It was something you were used to, thankfully. The casual aches and sore bodies after dangerous missions. At least you’re safe now. That is all that matters to him.

“Oh good,” the familiar sound of Zayne’s monotone voice fills the silence of the room. You tilt your head to the side, the bright florescent light being blocked by his head. He matches your head tilt, the corner his lips just barely perking up. You can’t see it, but he can. The big bruise that sits in the center of your forehead. The lights flicker off and the pain in your eyes is put at ease. “You’re awake.”

“I am, yes,” you comment with a small smile. You try to sit up but Zayne’s hand immediately presses into your chest, gently moving you back down. “Why are you keeping me hostage here?”

“Well,” Zayne’s lips press into a thin line. His thin rimmed glasses sit low on the bridge of his nose. He whips out a medical chart — one that you presume to be yours — and clears his throat, staring at the words on the paper. “This says that you were knocked out mid-fight. Your partner—”

“Derek,” you mumble the rookie’s name, already forming a plan of revenge.

“—yes, Derek,” Zayne says his name like he loathes the man, the disgust he feels evident in the way Derek’s name rolls off his tongue, “brought you in. I can only assume that you have a mild concussion. You have a bruised rib cage and your ankle is badly sprained. I wrapped up for you and I have already confiscated your phone. I also informed the Hunter’s Association that you will be on medical leave.”

“Zayne,” you close your eyes and fall back into the bed. He hums in response, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of you. “How did you know I have a concussion if I was unconscious?”

“That’s what the lights were for,” Zayne actually smiles when he says this, gesturing to the now turned off room lights. Hilarious. “I’ll also be running a few tests to ensure that your heart is okay and wasn’t damaged in the fight.”

“My hero,” you groan out your sarcastic comment, rolling your eyes.

“Just a doctor, dear,” the man responds. He sets the clipboard down and sits on the edge of the bed.

You turn onto your side, ignoring the pain that strikes through your chest. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into your back. His touch is cool and it feels nice against your aching muscles.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice much more gentle and soothing. “I was…worried about you. A concussion can be serious.”

“I’m fine, Zayne,” you breathe out, the tension in your chest now feeling numb from the medication. The ache in your head grows but having Zayne with you at your side makes the pain worth it. “I have you to look out for me. That’s all I need.”

“I’m working the overnight shift so I can keep an eye on you,” he murmurs. The dark haired man leans down and presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You should rest. You need it.”

“Will you check in on me?” you ask, casually looking at him from over your shoulder. A pout forms on your face and your eyes turn pleading. Zayne lets out a huff of air, nodding his head.

“Of course,” his hand finds yours. He gives it a gentle squeeze, his cold fingers now warm from your touch. “I’ll discharge you in the morning then we can go home. Yvonne will look after you when I’m not here, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, your pout turning into a small smile.

Zayne leaves the room a minute later. The room feels colder without him. You roll onto your back and stare at the blank ceiling, arms spread out across the bed. You turn your head to the side, looking at the door. In front of your gaze, though, sits the nurses’ call button. You purse your lips, a small plan beginning to form in your head. With the press of the call button, Yvonne quietly enters inside of your hospital room with a cup of water and an even smaller cup with a pill in it.

“Dr. Zayne hasn’t been gone for five minutes and you already need something,” her voice is warm and teasing. She presses the button to a dimly lit lamp, the warm lighting filling the room. You sit up in bed and take the water and pill from her, swallowing both like your life depends on it. “Is there anything you need?”

“I have a few questions,” you smile at her. “Oh! And I have a tiny favor to ask as well.”

Zayne was so over this shift. He is tired, already having worked a long shift before picking up the overtime to watch you, and he can’t help but think about you while working with other patients. The rows of rooms and hospital beds have begun to bleed into each other. Every patient he sees is just another version of you that he made up in his head.

Zayne took refuge from the work shift in his office. He sits at his desk, head rolled back as his sore feet take their rest. He knew you were asleep — well, that was what Yvonne told him when he asked — and didn’t want to bother you. Hell, just knowing that you’re here and safe and not out in dangerous situations is good enough to keep him going throughout the night.

“Dr. Zayne,” Yvonne knocks on the door, quietly stepping inside. She closes it just as fast as she opens it, hands remaining behind her back. There is a slight crinkle that Zayne can hear. He raises his eyebrow and sits up in his chair, leaning forward.

“Yes, what is it?” he asks.

“Your favorite patient asked me to give this to you,” Yvonne smiles at him. As soon as she reaches Zayne’s desk, she places a folded piece of paper and chocolate bar in the middle of his desk.

A smile spreads across Zayne’s face. He looks at the note, completely distracted by the sight of his name in your handwriting on the paper. Yvonne notices his interest and silent excuses herself. Once the door closes is when Zayne decides to move. He reaches for the chocolate bar, the weight of it familiar in his hand. He remembers telling you about his favorite candy from Akso’s vending machines. The fact that you remembered makes his heart flutter. It makes it even better to know that you gifted this to him when he needed it the most.

He carefully opens the chocolate bar, breaking off the first piece into his mouth. Zayne plucks the letter form the desk. He quietly observes it, noticing the way your handwriting is slightly lazy from the exhaustion you must feel. The corner of his lips perk up. He takes his time with opening up the folded piece of paper. It smells like the hospital with the slightest hint of your perfume on the paper.

My Dearest Doctor,

Hi babe. How are you? Is your shift going well? Do I need to fight any bad patients for you? I’ll get them to cooperate, just say the word!

I am unfortunately trapped in the confines of his hospital room. One that you put me in, I must add. It sucks that we are so close to each other yet so far. I can’t even believe that you haven’t checked in on me yet! Shame on you, hot doctor!

I hear your voice as you walk by, though. It makes me so happy to watch you in your own element. I knew you were a badass but Zayne? You are a medical god.

I’m just happy that I get to call that hot, medical god my boyfriend! Lucky me!

Will you please visit me soon? I miss you. I’m afraid that the only way for me to fully heal and recharge is if I see your face. Hold your hand. Hug you. Kiss you…

You know my room number. I’ll be waiting.

With All My Heart,

Your Favorite Patient

P.S., I hope you enjoy the chocolate bar. You can be a bit snippy when you’re hungry.

Zayne places the letter back onto his desk, a smile spreading across his face. His cheeks warm up from your words. His heart flutters and his chest tightens with longing. He gets up from his desk, ready to make a beeline for your hospital room when his pager goes off. He looks down at the device on his waist and sighs at the sight: Code Blue. He clicks the confirmation button, closing his eyes to gather his thoughts before he quickly exits his office, jogging down the hallway.

The door to your room is open with a full view of the nurses’ station. It’s proven good for entertainment, especially the people watching. Yvonne has been distracted with other patients and has blessed you the gift with the name of Juliette: a nurse that is head over heels in love with Dr. Greyson. The two of you eat chocolate pudding cups and talk about how your favorite men look so good in the white coats that they wear.

“Zayne is always so fussy whenever his is wrinkled,” you snort, amused by the last time Zayne tried to iron out a wrinkle for an hour. “He gets this look on his face and—”

Zayne and Greyson run by the open door of your hospital room. Their voices go from soft to loud back to soft all over again as they run off. You turn and look at Juliette as soon as she faces you. You blink for a couple of seconds, eyes flickering to the open door before they go back to the pudding cup.

“So, as I was saying,” you continue, shoveling pudding into your mouth. “Wait! Do you think you can do me a favor?”

An hour later, Zayne and Greyson exited the operating room. Zayne sheds himself of the layers of garments, his navy blue scrubs the last layer. He nods his head to the other doctor, a yawn escaping his lips. He glances down at his watch — 3:29 A.M. — and shakes his head, trying to get the exhaustion to leave his body. His feet take him down the hospital hallways, slowly finding himself growing closer and closer to your room. He is ready to get into the hospital bed next to you and relax, to kiss you and feel your skin against his, but his plan is quickly shot and killed when he sees Yvonne and Juliette standing outside your door.

“What happened?” Zayne asks, the exhaustion immediately leaving his body. He is on high alert now, hazel eyes focused on the closed doors. “Did something happen to her while I was in surgery? Where is she?”

“She’s fine, Dr. Zayne,” Yvonne shakes her head with a chuckle. She quickly intercepts him and guides him in the opposite direction, walking him closer and closer to his office.

“Oh, good,” Zayne breathes out with the nod of his head. “Is she—”

“Sleeping? Yes. Her headache went away and she was able to fall asleep,” Yvonne says. She opens up his office door and gently pushes him inside. She gestures to his desk, a smile spreading across her lips. “She left you something, though.”

Zayne’s head immediately snaps around. Another note sits on the desk beside a white go to cup. He listens to the click of the door before rushing to the desk, taking his seat. He ignores the cup and instead grabs your note, opening up the page much quicker than he did the last time.

Dear Hot Medical God,

You know what is so funny? I was just thinking about you! I was talking to Juliette about you and how much you hate it when your coat is wrinkled when you ran by. I heard the Code Blue talk from the nurses. They said you had to go into surgery because of severe blockages? I hope the patient is okay. Well, I know they are since you’re the one taking care of them.

It’s like I’ve always said: a patient under Doctor Zayne’s care is the most cared patient in the world!

But I can’t help but wonder…if you’re too busy taking care of everyone else, then who is going to take care of you? That is why, and I know you won’t do it but I would love it if you would do a drum roll for dramatic effect, I bought you hot chocolate from that street vendor you love! Surprise!

I know that the patient must have taken a toll on you and, well, everyone deserves a sweet treat.

I can’t wait to see you, Zayne. Promise me you’ll be there when my test results come back? There’s no one else I would rather listen to when it comes to all these fancy medical terms.

I love you, Zayne, never forget it.

You have my heart,

Your Favorite Patient

P.S., you look good in those scrubs. I can’t wait to watch you take them off!

Zayne rolls his eyes at your last comment, his cheeks turning a light pink color. The tips of his ears run hot and he clears his throat, instinctively reaching to fix the tie around his neck just to be met with the collar of his scrubs. He blinks at the nearby room before turning his attention to the drink on his desk.

The drink is warm beneath his touch. He lets out a quiet sigh and gently removes the cup, face to face with a steaming cup of hot chocolate. The smell is decadent. Rich. Sweet. It reminds him of you. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a slow sip, a sigh falling from his lips after he swallows the sweet drink. His body relaxes and he sits down in his chair.

He picks up the note again. He rereads your words. They are as sweet as you.

Fuck, how he wishes he could slip into your room and get into the hospital bed behind you. To bury his face into the back of your neck. To listen to you complain — as always — about him taking up too much space. Oh, how he wishes that he could pepper kisses along the line of your jaw, to inhale the faint scent of your perfume and feel the warmth of your body against his.

Zayne also knows, though, that you need your rest and that when he is around, you become a ball of infectious energy. You need to sleep and Zayne unfortunately needs to work.

“Dr. Zayne,” Dr. Greyson steps through his office door just as Zayne finishes the last bit of hot chocolate from the cup. “There’s a new patient that I’d like you to take a look at.”

“Alright,” Zayne nods his head. His feet hurt as soon as he stands. The familiar ache that he has grown accustomed to throughout the years. He slowly walks towards the door, running his fingers through his hair. “Tell Yvonne to check in on her. Whatever she needs, make sure that she gets it.”

“We’re on it,” Dr. Greyson responds. He passes off the new patient’s file to Zayne, watching as the determined doctor makes his way down the corridor, eyes fixed on the papers in front of him.

You woke up about thirty minutes later. The digital clock on the wall reads 4:09 A.M. and the darkness of the sky outside is tinged with the slightest amount of light blue. A yawn leaves your lips and you slowly sit up in bed, a quiet groan escaping your mouth.

The door to your room is slightly cracked. You lean to the side, pursing your lips, and watch as Yvonne and Zayne talk at the nurses station. A small graces your face. The heat in the middle of your head dissipates at the sight of your boyfriend and your ribs no longer hurt. You relax into the bed, your eyes dropping down his body. You take in the sight of his muscular arms, the scars that are embedded into his skin. The lines of his body are sharp and the navy blue scrubs do him justice. Your eyes take him in before dropping to the curve of his butt.

It’s just so perfect. And bouncy. It’s why you always let him win those running races of yours.

Zayne turns around, his hazel eyes meeting yours. A squeal leaves your lips and you immediately yank yourself to the other side of the bed. You bring the thin hospital blanket over your head, shielding you from the light of the room. The door pushes open, allowing the light from the hallway to pour into your hospital room.

“Don’t think that I didn’t catch you staring—”

“Dr. Zayne! The emergency room needs you!” a nearby nurse yells from down the hall, out of breath. “The patient sustained a stab wound to the chest, we think it’s in the heart!”

“Right,” Zayne nods his head. He takes one last look at you, though, and meets you gaze from across the room.

“Good luck,” you say, voice hoarse and raspy.

“Thank you,” Zayne responds. And just like that, he runs off yet again, leaving nothing but silence in his wake.

“Hey, Yvonne?” you call out. The nurse immediately comes into your room, a sweet smile on her face. “What time is Zayne scheduled to get off?”

The surgery lasted longer than expected. The patient crashed more than once and it proved to be more than strenuous to keep them alive. At one point, Zayne remembers having his hand clasped around the patient’s heart, manually pumping as Dr. Greyson used a tube to suck the blood out of the chest cavity. After being in the surgery room for so long, Zayne stepped out to see the sun rising in the distance.

His body hurts. His feet hurt. His eyes hurt. His ice evol encompasses his body with a nice chill, providing him some comfort as he cracks his neck exiting the operating room. He glances to the side and watches as nurses wheel the patient out, the anesthesiologist following close behind as they monitor their vital signs.

“Good job today, Dr. Zayne,” a nurse looks up from their clipboard as he exits the operating room. “We were glad to have you here tonight. You really helped us.”

“It’s my job,” Zayne responds with a simple nod of the head, “but I am glad that I am here too. May I ask how the patient in room 420 is doing?”

“Sure thing!” the nurse cheerily responds. They step to the computer at the nurses station and sit down, quickly finding the details of you and your room. Their smile falters for the briefest moment. Zayne immediately catches onto it.

“Did something happen?” the man asks. He moves behind the nurse and looks down at the screen.

“It says that she was discharged about an hour ago…”

“That’s not right,” Zayne shakes his head, unable to wrap his head around the fact that someone other than him would even allow you to leave the hospital. “We were waiting for the test results. They hadn’t come in yet—”

“The results all came back normal,” Yvonne interrupts him. Zayne looks at the nurse and raises an eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate. “Dr. Cooper and I looked them over. Checked them three times for your sake. Everything was fine with her and she didn’t want to be in that room anymore.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zayne asks. There is impatience in his voice. Annoyance, even.

“Because you were in the middle of surgery,” Yvonne rolls her eyes.

Zayne’s lips press into a thin line. He walks past the rest of the nurses and doctors, ignoring what it is that they have to say to him. He doesn’t really care. All he cares about is you and your wellbeing. A part of him thinks — no…he knows — that this is all some big prank. That this is just another one of your jokes that you love to play on him. You probably got the nursing staff to join in on it, to input the wrong information just to mess with him.

He approaches your hospital room, his hand pushing the metal doorknob. An immediate layer of frost spreads across the metal handle, his evol getting the better of him.

“Very funny,” Zayne announces to the room, shaking his head, “but I am not in any kind of mood for your games—”

He immediately falls silent once his eyes land on the barren wasteland of your hospital room. It has been completely vacated, the bed as empty as it was before you arrived. His chest tightens. A lump forms in his throat.

So…you really were gone. His face scrunches up before relaxing, brows relaxing before tensing all over again. He feels an immense amount of sadness was over him. His silent hope of seeing you after a long overtime shift was vanished. It has left him feeling cold and even more sore than usual.

Zayne silently steps towards the bed, his sneakers quietly squeaking along the vinyl flooring. He flattens his palm against the sheets of the bed, his lips tugging downward. His hazel eyes trail along the bed, slowly making his way towards the pillow.

That’s when he sees it. Another note from you.

Zayne picks it up as if it is the final thing that is holding him together. He unfolds the paper. The tension begins to leave his body once your handwriting comes into view, a sigh of relief falling from his lips.

Dear Hot Medical God,

Hi. Long time no see. Well, for me it has. I bet you’ve been checking up on me every now and then through that patient portal of yours on the computer.

Yvonne told me that you were having a rough night. Turns out that Linkon city is restless when their best and brightest cardiac surgeon is working overtime. It pains me to know that you haven’t gotten a break this whole night. It pains me even more to know that you weren’t there to discharge me from the hospital.

That’s okay, though. I know that I will be seeing you soon. I can never go too long without seeing you. I am growing restless by the second. I feel so burnt out without you. You are the only person that keeps me sane in this place…and I hate being alone, especially when you’re walking these halls and I am unable to see you.

So…please. Please come find me. I need to see you. I want to see my snowman. I fear that my headache will only go away if I get to see you. Maybe get a kiss or two. Or three. Or a hundred. Okay, let’s call it an even thousand kisses.

I miss and love you so much, Zayne. My heart hurts to know that we are so close yet so far apart.

You have my heart,

Your Love

P.S., your office couch is super uncomfortable. Maybe we can find you a new one later today.

Zayne raises his eyebrow at the last part of your letter. His couch? Weren’t you discharged an hour—

Oh.

Oh.

OH!

Zayne looks up and rushes out of the hospital room. His shoes squeak on the floors as he picks up the pace. The doctor rushes towards his office, note still in hand, but stops right before his hand can connect with the door knob.

What if you aren’t there? What if you wrote this right before you left? Would he even be able to handle the sting of knowing that you truly aren’t here? Will this add to the bitter taste of disappointment that sits on his tongue?

Zayne closes his eyes. He slowly inhales, holding it for a few seconds, before exhaling. With the release of his breath, he pushes the door open, slowly opening his eyes.

There you are. Fast asleep on his couch. You have the spare blanket — one with seals and penguins on it — wrapped around your body like a protective shield. Your cheek is smushed against the armrest, knees pulled up to your chest as you soundly sleep in an uncomfortable position.

The tension in Zayne’s body immediately melts. He quietly closes the door behind him and locks it. The man kicks off his shoes, feeling the ache begin to slowly dissipate. He lowers himself onto the couch beside you. The note falls from his hand and onto the floor. Zayne reaches for you, a small smile spreading across his face as you groan and shake your head, waiting to remain asleep. He drags you onto his lap.

“Zayne?” you mumble his name, voice slightly slurred as you remain half-asleep.

“I’m here,” Zayne quietly responds. He rests you on his lap. You straddle him, body incredibly warm from the blanket. Zayne loves it. You put all of your weight into him, your head resting against his. “You’re warm.”

“You’re cold,” you comment right back, a sleepy smile forming on your face.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Zayne’s hands slipped under your shirt, his clean and dry hands gently rubbing soothing circles into your back. Your breathing falls in sync. Your bodies melt into one big mass. Zayne rests his chin on your shoulder while you press gentle and lazy kisses to the side of his face.

“Thank you, my love, for the notes and snacks,” Zayne breaks the silence, a yawn falling from his lips. “It was nice to know that you were thinking of me.”

“I always think of you, Zayne,” you slowly pull your face away from his. You rest your hands on his shoulders, keeping the two of you trapped underneath the warmth of the blanket. “It’s the least I could have done. I know you had a busy night.”

“I did,” he nods, his voice just above a murmur. The tips of his fingers drag up and down your spine, leaving chills in its wake. “I’m ready to go home, though. Will you come with me?”

“Of course,” you nod, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead. Your hands move to the side of his neck before moving to cup his cheeks. “We do have to find you a new couch, though.”

“The couch can wait,” Zayne comments with a smile, “I want to spend the rest of my day in bed with you.”

Chapter Text

You and Caleb have played this game before. You get angry at him over the smallest thing, he grovels for a solid week before you finally let him back into your arms with the man never having been happier in his life.

It is just like when the two of you were kids and he stole the last piece of food to eat before you could snatch it up for yourself. Oh, and don’t forget the times when you asked Caleb to help you with your hair before school and he accidentally brushed through the knots a little too harshly.

This is one of those times but it’s the fact that your Skyhaven trip was ruined due to a Farspace Fleet emergency that has put you in a bad mood.

You give Caleb the cold shoulder while he put his uniform on. You remain on the bed, arms crossed over your chest while you stare out the window, looking at the gloomy landscape and dark gray clouds as they float pass the flying island. Caleb talked to you while he changed but you could barely listen, your heart aching far too harshly to respond.

“I’ll be back soon, pips,” Caleb says with a resigned sigh, tightening the tie around his neck — something that you usually do with a bright smile on your face. His favorite part was when you tightened the tie. As the knot pushed up, you would slowly stand up on your toes, leaning in before planting a kiss on his lips just as the knot reached his neck.

A frown spreads across his face. He glances at your reflection in the mirror, the way you’re rolled on the other side so he can’t see your face. It’s like a knife to the heart, truly.

“I’ll bring back some ingredients to make your favorite meal to make it up to you!” Caleb says in a bright and cheery tone despite the neutral expression on his face.

You don’t move. His frown worsens. A sigh falls from his lips and he turns around, fists balling from beneath the leather gloves. He moves towards the bed circling around it. He stands in front of you now, blocking the view of the gloomy sky. The white of his colonel pants depresses you but you know that he can’t ignore his job, even when he used his time off to spend a nice and long weekend with you. He kneels before you, his purple eyes and frown coming into view.

Caleb reaches out. The tips of his gloved fingers drag across the side of your face, gently cupping your cheek. You have to fight the urge to lean into the warm touch, the comfort that he brings you. He tilts his head to the side so he can get a good and proper look at you.

You stare at him with disappointment written across your face. This happens every other visit to Skyahven. The Fleet is always so demanding and your boyfriend is the one who bears the weight of responsibility to fix it all. There isn’t any other person you can think of, though, that could handle the pressure like Caleb can.

Still, it pains you to see him go. Especially when you had finally convinced him to watch the perfect gloomy day movie: Pride & Prejudice.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, “they called an Alarm Red and—”

“It’s okay,” you whisper back, lips pushing to the side in the shape of a frown, “stay safe for me, Caleb.”

“I will,” he nods, determined. “You know I’m always going to make it back to you.”

You find the will to move again. You sit up in bed and Caleb straightens his posture, still down on one knee beside you. Without wasting another second, you fling your arms around his neck, slipping free from the confines of the bed. Caleb’s once stiff body melts into your embrace, the man sighing as he leans into your embrace, arms engulfing you. He stands up, your feet now dangling in the air as your quiet laughter and requests for him to put you down are muffled in his hair.

“Request denied, Hunter!” Caleb announces, the smile returning to his face. “As your Colonel, I have to keep you as my prisoner!”

“Caleb!” you screech despite the smile on your face. “You’re so dumb!”

He walks you out of the bedroom and into the main and open areas of his apartment. He walks to the front door, your squeals and laughter growing louder and louder the closer that he gets to the door. His heart is in agony that he has to leave you so abruptly like this. He always hates disappointing you, to see that frown on your face. At least he gets to see your smile one last time as he approaches the front door of his apartment.

Caleb slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your feet slipping into a new pair of fuzzy slippers he bought you. You gasp, looking down at the shoes, your smile slowly widening. Your hands slide from his shoulders down onto his chest, the man looking down at you with a bright grin on his face. You turn and look back up at him, giving his chest a gentle push.

“You were holding out on me, Colonel,” you say.

“Consider it an ‘I’m sorry for my job ruining our stay-cation’ gift,” Caleb says, gently pushing some of your hair out of your face. He glances at the door, the bitter truth of reality spreading across his tongue. “I’ll text and call when I can, pips.”

“I know,” you nod, already knowing the drill. He looks back down at you and you force a smile across your face despite the turmoil that begins to form in your chest. “Just…stay safe, Caleb.”

“I will,” he says, drawing you close to him. He cups your cheeks and your hands find themselves gripping the sides of his waist. You slightly pout and it takes everything in Caleb to not call the Fleet and tell them to go fuck themselves, that they can put out their fires on their own.

“It’s so unfair,” you sigh, “is there not anyone else that they can call? Why does it have to be you?” You frown, now staring at the insignias on his chest. Your gaze flicks up to meet his, eyes vibrant from a brewing idea. “Do you need a Hunter’s hel—”

“Absolutely not, pips,” Caleb shakes his head. His thumb grazes your cheek, the warmth enveloping your body. “You’re grounded. No planes are to take off after I go.”

“So unfair,” you roll your eyes, “and so demanding.”

“I’ll be back before you know it!” Caleb’s bright tone is enough to keep you in your spot and fuzzy slippers, but the pout comes back to your face. “Can I at least get a kiss before I go?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes, pushing up onto your toes, “c’mere, Colonel.”

The kiss is short but sweet. Before Caleb can pull away, you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him back down, pecking his lips a few more times. A chuckle vibrates in the back of his throat, his smile growing. He opens his eyes and looks down at you, his cheeks a bright pink.

“Can I get one more?”

“Don’t you have an Alarm Red to attend to?” you ask, reaching around him to open up the door. You gently push him out, tossing his hat to him. He catches it with ease, placing it on the top of his head as you lean against the heavy door. “Go save the world, soldier…I love you, Caleb.”

“I love you too, pips,” Caleb says with a fondness in his voice, something that belongs to you and you alone, “but you should know that you’re my world.”

If love is a battlefield, then Alarm Red is no man’s land.

A spacecraft got lost in the Deepspace Tunnel during a routine mission. One second, everything was going well, and the next, everything had gone to absolute shit. When Caleb arrived at the Fleet’s administrative building, everything was in total disarray and chaos. He has never in his life seen such chaos and destruction in one place. It was only when he realized that it was the Farspace Fleet General when he realized the true severity of the situation.

It was only a few minutes later when Caleb found himself in the cockpit of a Farspace Fleet jet, taking off into the depths of space. It hasn’t even been an hour since he left you and he was already in the stars, the distance growing more and more painful as he headed towards the General’s last marked coordinates. His last text to you was one that spoke of love for you and that he’ll be back a little later than expected.

His hand remains tight around the yoke of the plane, eyes strained as he scans the stars inside of the Deepspace Tunnel for the familiar sight of the sleek white jet. After minutes of searching and no sight of the General or his spacecraft, Caleb lets out a sigh and his body relaxes. He glances down at the blue colored coordinates on his screen, the man already in the field of area where the General and his crew were predicted to be. The space outside of the jet is quiet despite the low hum of the jet engine. He doesn’t remove the mask from the lower half of his face despite the urge to.

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

Caleb closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, gently shaking his head. His hair is damp against his scalp. When he opens his eyes up again, his blood runs cold.

A debris field floats in front of his jet. He slows the spacecraft, allowing the inertia to keep him on his path. His eyes widen from shock, the ripped apart spacecraft now splintered in a million tiny little pieces. A large chunk of the wing passes him by and his heart goes still for a moment. His body subconsciously stiffens at the sight. Metal and plastic remain stagnate in space and the only thing that the Colonel can do is sit and stare at the horrendous sight.

It serves as a reminder of what can happen to him. What can happen in a split second if something goes wrong or someone doesn’t complete their job with the competency that it requires. If someone on his crew were to make a mistake as fatal as this, then Caleb will never be able to see your face again. The sight of the wreckage serves as a reminder that he must remain diligent with his job so that he can feel the warmth of your skin on his once again, to drown in the ecstasy of your love and attention, to hear the sweetness of your voice one last time before the depths of ice cold space collect him.

“Ground control, this is C-01. Sending coordinates of General Nguyen. No signs of life are confirmed. Heading back to base. Over.”

The words come from his mouth with too much ease. He glances to the side, catching a quick glimpse of the General’s body floating in space. He’s still in tact but the sight of him is enough to send chills down Caleb’s spine.

He needs to get home to you. Now.

The jet lands with precision as he touches back down onto earth, the wheels screeching as the hook on the bottom of his jet catches onto the line before he can spill over the edge. The ground crew scrambles towards his jet as the top pops open, the Colonel jumping out and ripping his helmet off of his head. He makes his way down the ladder and ignores the usual medical crew that come to inspect him for any injuries, waving them away. The chill from the Deepspace Tunnel has settled itself deep in his bones. Even as he’s back on the planet where the temperature is much higher than it was in the tunnel, Caleb can’t seem to shake the icy feeling that has overtaken his body like a parasite, infecting him with the darkened thoughts of death and leaving you behind in a world that is so cruel.

Who will be here to protect you from it?

Irritation floods his body as they continue to pester him. He waves them away again, shoving his helmet into one of the grounds crew member’s chests, pushing past the lively crowd. They ask him a plethora of questions, wondering what happened to the General and what he saw.

“Stand down,” he commands, using as much authority as he can, “focus on recovering the General and his team. My Adjutant will help with the recovery. I’m going home.”

The drive home is silent. Caleb is left with the thoughts in the back of his mind, the terrifying ideas that he may not return to you in this lifetime. He knows, though, that he’ll find you in the next life, that the two of you are bound to be reconnected. Well, that is what he hopes the future has in store for the two of you.

He turns into the parking garage of his apartment, dipping below the man made surface and into the darkness. He fights the urge to loosen his tie, to allow himself to fall apart before he can even reach the door. The man parks the car but doesn’t immediately get out. He slowly exhales, feeling his muscles tremble as he reaches for his phone.

Caleb hasn’t looked at it since he sent you his last text. One last attempt to tell you that you are his world and you own all of the love that he has to give. He wonders if you even responded to him. Did you fall asleep after he left? Did you stay awake and watch the sky?

The screen turns on. He stares at your name and presses it. Your messages pop up, the previous emojis and emoticons used making his toes and fingers feel warm again. It isn’t enough, though, to calm the storm in his heart, the way he fights every urge to claw his way up the side of the building if it means getting to you even faster. His eyes finally drop down to the text you sent him, the corners of his lips tugging upwards at the sight.

I love you too. Stay safe and remember where your true home is.

Caleb exits the car and briskly walks towards the elevator. He eagerly presses the button, his body now vibrating with excitement. He glances around, noticing that the garage is as empty as ever. There is no sign of life. It’s almost like…

Ding!

The elevator doors open. Caleb sucks in a breath, surprised that it came that quickly before stepping inside. The elevator begins its ascent to the top floors where his apartment sits. His toes and fingers tingle, the warmth slowly spreading to his feet and hands. As soon as the doors open once again, Caleb steps out and takes his hat off of his head, his brown locks damp from leftover sweat. His feet carry him across the hallway at a quick pace, crossing the distance with ease.

His apartment door comes into view and his body immediately relaxes at the sight. He lets out an exhale of air, trying to dispel the festering tension before he comes back to you. He stops in his tracks, though, when he spots an envelope taped to the door. Caleb plucks it free, turning it over just to see your handwriting and a bright image of a kiss left on the paper. It’s the same shade as your lipstick. The envelope even smells like you. It makes Caleb’s heart flutter.

Read Outside!

The envelope says. He cocks his head to the side and is unable to contain the smile that spreads across his lips.

He uses his evol to float the letter in the air while he quickly searches his body for his pocket knife. Caleb doesn’t want to accidentally rip through the paper and ruin the surprise you have on the inside. This is precious to him and he has to keep it safe, even from himself. Once he finds his blade, the man slices through the envelope’s seal with precision, not harming the words that wait for him inside…

For My Handsome Colonel,

Hi, baby. You’re back! I’ve never been so happy to have you come home from work, especially after it ruined our weekend together. But…there’s a few things that you need to do before we see each other. Do you think you can do that for me?

Caleb eagerly nods as if you can see him.

I want you to shake out all of your work energy! You always come home so tense and I want the man I love to relax for once. I don’t care if you look silly in front of all your neighbors (they’ve heard worse from us), shake out all of the nervous energy for me! Only then, can you come inside. And trust me: I’ll know if you skip this step!

Caleb shakes his head with a laugh. He clears his throat and looks around, noting that nobody is in the hallway before he begins to shake his arms and legs and head back and forth, dispelling some of the leftover nervous energy that rests inside of his body. He even does a few jumping jacks for good measure just incase you’re watching from the other side. Only then does he open the door and step inside of your shared home.

He’s met with savory and sweet scents from the kitchen. The man kicks of his boots, placing them in their usual spot by the door when he notices a wrapped box and another note on top. There’s another kiss on the paper for him. He immediately snatches it and slices the paper open, the paper floating in front of his face as he shrugs his jacket off, reading.

Good job, Colonel Xia! You expertly completed the first mission. Congrats!

I wanted to thank you for the slippers earlier. They are so nice and warm and cute! My handsome boyfriend deserves a pair too, no? Fuzzy and in your size! They are ready for you to relax in, babe!

Caleb looks down at the box. He carefully unwraps it, his heart fluttering when he sees the matching pair of slippers inside. He drops them to the ground and immediately slips them on, an exhale of relief leaving his lips. He turns his attention back to the card.

Do you remember when we were kids and I lost my slippers? You let me wear yours even though the house was freezing! You searched everywhere for them. You said that you couldn’t bear to see me cry over my lost cow slippers. Where were they again?

“Under your bed,” Caleb says out loud. The warmth from his feet begins to trickle up his legs, bringing the life back to his body.

I loved you so much for helping me then. You were my hero, Caleb. It’s about time I return the favor. Go to the kitchen for your next surprise!

Caleb slips the note into his Colonel’s hat where the other one sits. He quickly shuffles across the floor, the slippers making him feel so safe and secure. He quickly enters the kitchen, his eyes landing on four different baskets filled with snacks and food. A note sits in the middle, propped against a basket filled with savory snacks such as chips, pretzels, and freshly popped popcorn. A blue ribbon sits beside it. He quickly opens up the note, eyes fixing on your handwriting like his life depends on it.

I bet you’re hungry. I know you said that you wanted to cook, but I had a feeling that Alarm Red wasn’t a good code to rush into work for. So…I decided to be the cook today! Well…some of it.

I am giving you the option of what you would like to snack on tonight. As you can see, there plenty of options! One is savory, filled with your favorite snacks and salty goodness! Another one is sweet and it has freshly baked cookies (which we will be devouring if you choose that one or not) and brownies! There’s even chocolate covered pretzels and those stupid but cute chocolate mushrooms you love. The third option is spicy! I got all of your favorite spicy treats and I have some ramen for you if you choose to accept the (spicy) mission! The fourth option is if you want everything!

Tie the ribbon on the handle of the basket you wish to eat! The choice is yours, Caleb.

“Can I choose you?” Caleb calls out while smiling down at the card. There’s no response, but that’s okay. He’ll continue to play your game. Caleb ties the ribbon around the fourth basket, knowing that the two of you are going to want anything and everything that you have to offer. Besides, who doesn’t like having options? He flips the card over.

Go to the bathroom next.

Caleb smiles and places the card in his hat, making his way across the apartment and to the large bathroom that sits across the hall from your shared bedroom. He opens the door and peeks inside, his eyes latching onto the next card that awaits him.

Ew! You stink, you dummy! Go take a shower! And take your time with it, too! Don’t try to speed run this step! I love you, baby, but I don’t want you smelling like the Fleet when we finally see each other.

Do you remember when you visited me in Linkon and you used up all of my body wash? Yeah? Well guess what! You have brand new bottles waiting for you! It’s a new scent I think you’ll like. It reminds me of the first cologne you bought when we were teens…you sprayed waaaay too much back then! Hopefully you’ve learned your lesson…come to the room when you’re done for one final surprise!

Caleb glances at the bottles. He picks one up while loosening his tie, slipping it free from his body. He removes the rest of his clothes and turns on the water, placing the bottles on the mini shelves in there. He steps in once the water is warm enough, allowing himself the chance to relax under the steamy water.

He takes his time just like you instructed him to, lathering his hair with your shampoo before turning his attention to getting the scent of the Fleet and jet fuel off of his body. He hums to himself, listening to the faint sounds of your squeals and giggles from outside the door. Caleb hopes that he can catch you in action, to try and catch you in the act of setting up the final surprise.

All he wants to see is you, though. To melt into your arms and bury his face into your neck. To draw you into his embrace to remind him of the real reason why he fights to come home after every mission. He wants to kiss you and your skin, to take in the scent of your body wash and perfume. He wants to hold you in his arms and look at the angel he has fallen in love with over and over again. Caleb doesn’t want to be stuck with the image of his dead General in his mind and the debris field that he navigated through.

He steps out of the shower, wrapping his towel around his waist. The necklace you gifted him hangs around his neck, glistening with his dewey skin under the bathroom light. He dries his hair with a towel, slipping his feet into the new slippers before stepping out, Colonel hat with all of your notes in his free hand.

The hallway is silent. A black blanket has been hung up to block his view of the living room. He can hear you quietly walking around, trying not to spoil the surprise as crinkles of snack bags fills the silence. Caleb chuckles and shakes his head, pushing into the shared bedroom where a pair of pajamas — ones that are white with pink and red hearts on them — sits on the bed with a note on top of the stack. He smiles at the pajamas, slipping on the fresh pair of boxers you laid out for him before putting on the cheesy yet surprisingly comfortable pajamas on.

Caleb turns his attention to the last note, picking it up with a gentleness he didn’t know he contained. He smiles at it fondly, gently slicing through the material before unveiling your final message.

Caleb,

I love you. You know that right? Everything that you have done for me has meant the absolute world to me.

When I was sad, you were always there to put a smile on my face. Whenever I was happy, you laughed with me and made me feel even better. Whenever I was angry, it was you who helped me calm down and grounded me back in reality.

If it weren’t for you, I think I would be a mess today. Like, an actual mess. One that would be seen on the news because they decided to befriend the lions in the zoo and wanted to free them kind of mess.

Caleb…I am so in love with you it hurts. You are the rock that keeps me steady, the North Star in my night sky, the one man who I will let boss me around and tell me to wear a smile.

Whenever you leave for an emergency mission like this, my heart hurts. It hurts so much. I don’t know what to do with myself whenever you’re gone. Whenever I know you’re going into the Deepspace Tunnel, I always look to the sky to try and see your plane. Even when I am in Linkon and you are here, I look to the sky to try and find you. My guardian angel in the sky that protects me and the world. I pretend that I’m okay, that I can survive the few hours that you are gone for, but who am I kidding? I feel so incomplete without you.

You have always been the missing piece of my puzzle. The one person who knows what is exactly on my mind. You are the lemon to my lime. The gin to my tonic. The chocolate chip to my cookie. The salt to my pepper. Okay yes, I admit those are cheesy, but you just make me so happy and I can’t even imagine who I would be without you.

I love you, Caleb. Never forget that.

Caleb folds the letter as if it is a holy scripture that he prays over. He gently places all of the letters in the top drawer of his side table. He turns to face the bedroom door, walking towards it like his life depends on it.

The man steps out and makes his way to the living room. His face lights up when he sees you standing in the center, rushing to light the last candle. He stays where he is, purple eyes examining the room you have set up.

The coffee table sits to the side. The snacks from before sit on top. The cooked food sits on the table in the back, the plumes of steam curling into the air from the freshly cooked ramen and cookies. The plushies that the two of you won line the couch and beside them sits a variety of blankets and pillows. Fairy lights have been hung from the ceiling, a detail that he didn’t even notice before they were lit like they are now. The room exudes coziness. It is exactly what Caleb needs after coming home from a rough day at work.

“Caleb! You scared me!” you gasp, hand flying over your heart. His purple eyes drop back down to you and the matching set of heart pajamas that you wear. You smile at him, opening up your arms. “Welcome home!”

Caleb takes a step forward. Then another. Then another before he rushes towards you. He snatches you up from the ground, your laughter filling his ears as he spins you around. You wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him close to you. Caleb stops spinning and adjust you on his body, shifting you upwards. He tilts his chin up, eyes meeting yours. Your hand rests on his shoulder, the other on his chest.

You lean down and meet his lips in a slow and tender kiss, one that far surpasses any passionate kiss you shared from intimate nights with one another. The chill from the Deepspace Tunnel has completely left his body. His tingles, igniting from sparks that fly between the two of you. His once ice cold heart is now bursting with life and hope for the future instead of the lingering feeling of dread.

This feels right. This is exactly where Caleb wants to be.

“I love you, Caleb,” you murmur against his lips.

“I love you too. More than you can ever imagine.”