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Pope has never been a big fan of sleeping.
Well, it’s not that he completely hated it, but his insomnia didn’t help, and he never really fought it. So when he can’t sleep, he’d sit straight and still on the side of his bed and wait for the sun to peek through the windows again. He’d use that time to think, plan and calculate what he’s going to do the following day and if he was in some kind of mood, he’d think about Julia and reminisce moments shared together. He's been doing it a lot since his time in prison, mainly because of the presence of J.
You, on the contrary, are a big sleep lover. You love sleeping early to wake up late, or to nap in the afternoon or anytime, really. Even at work you take power naps, whether they are 5 or 30 minutes long, you’ll make it happen.
You love to sleep, and Pope loves to watch you. You don’t even know it, he makes sure to not wake you up.
He finds it relaxing. You’re vulnerable but you don’t seem bothered by it. You’re peaceful, you even laugh in your sleep sometimes, it’s short and sleepy, but it’s honest. You move and kick a lot, tossing and pulling the blanket. You’re comfortable. It’s your favorite moment and it shows, your face is completely relaxed as you’re starting to drool a bit.
What he doesn’t know is that you take meds to sleep, otherwise you keep waking up every couple hours, staying awake for 10 minutes or an hour sometimes. He doesn’t know because when he enters your room it’s pitch black, only the light of the moon through your never closed blinds guides him to the chair of your desk. He moves it, sits down and looks at you.
You’ve never looked happier and relaxed than when you’re sleeping.
Tonight wasn’t any different. You were near. Safe. Peaceful.
What he also didn’t know is that earlier today you drank a can of your favorite Monster. And as much as you loved the taste, you knew it meant you’d have a troubled sleep, the energy drink canceling the effects of your meds.
So you opened your eyes, blinking, freshly awake. As annoying as it was to wake up during the night, you also loved it. It allowed you to look at the time and think “I still have some time”.
Your eyes wandered in the dark room until you finally noticed it.
You froze instantly.
Here. In front of you. On the chair by your desk. There was a silhouette.
It was dark so you couldn’t see well, but the moon slightly drew a shape. There was someone, you could swear it.
Your heart was racing, muscles tense, eyes wide. If only you had a gun under your pillow.
You moved slowly, as if you were just repositioning yourself, one hand grabbing the pillow and the other the blanket. You calmed yourself, quietly breathing before suddenly throwing the blanket out of your way as you sent the pillow at the intruder’s face. You jumped out of bed and onto the silhouette, falling to the ground with the man.
“It’s me ! It’s just me ! Relax !” A familiar voice quickly said, pushing the pillow away. You were sitting on top of him, a hand by his neck, keeping him down, and a tightly closed fist raised in the air, ready to punch.
“Andrew ?” You squinted your eyes to try and see his face in the dark, breathing heavily. “What the fuck, man ?” You lowered your fist before hitting his shoulder. As you huffed, moving away to sit next to him, Pope chuckled lightly, visibly amused.
“Your punches are weak.”
“My goal wasn’t to hurt you, dumbass.” You replied with a scoff, giving his head the strongest flick you could muster, which didn’t seem to phase him. “Next time, maybe turn the light on. So I see it’s you.” You added with a sigh, trying to calm yourself down as you felt him sit up next to you.
“Your desk lamp is dead.”
As you stood up, blindly searching for your bedside lamp, Pope reached for the one on your desk.
Click. Click. Click.
“See ? It doesn’t work.”
“Yeah, I keep forgetting to change the lightbulb.” You replied, finally turning on the light, making the both of you squint your eyes for a moment.
You grabbed the pillow off the floor and climbed back in the bed, watching Pope put the chair back up.
“Are you gonna sit back on that chair ?”
He shrugged.
“Maybe.”
“It’s giving cuck energy.” You chuckled. “Third-wheeling me and my sleep.”
“Do you want me to leave ?” He asked after a beat.
“No, I’m inviting you into my bed.” You smiled.
You made yourself comfortable as Pope thought for a second before moving, taking his clothes off, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair.
“Don’t- Don’t make it face that way.” You quickly said. “A ghost can sit in and watch you sleep. Make it face the desk so it can’t watch.”
“What ?” Pope frowned, slightly confused. “I mean, a ghost can still watch you, it doesn’t need to sit to do that.”
You stared at him, surprised by his serious answer to your dumb request.
“Don’t entertain my stupid fears, please.” You snorted.
“I’m just saying.” He replied as he entered the bed, slipping under the blanket. “Even I don’t need a chair, I can watch you sleep standing up.”
“You can also do that from inside the bed.” You said, kissing his cheek as you reached for the lamp and turned it off, your head resting by his shoulder. “And yet, I had to invite you to get in. So, I’m hoping the ghosts believe they need a chair.”
He stays silent for a moment, before finally talking again.
“I uh, wasn’t sure you’d want me here.”
You gave him a confused look, which he didn’t see because of the dark.
“Andrew. If I could surgically attach you to me, I’d do it.”
You felt him move to look at you, your words making the gears turn in his head.
“I love you.” You added, trying to make your point across.
“Smurf had to hide pills in my food to somewhat tolerate me.” He replied after a while trying to make his point across.
“W-” You scoffed, taken aback, and one of your hands went to rest by his cheek. “Well I’m not Smurf. And I love you. Your staring problem, your quiet moments, your need to rearrange my kitchen’s organization each time you come over or sorting your food and eating it in a certain order. You just have a disorder, it doesn’t mean you’re unloveable.”
“I killed people.”
“I still love you.”
“What if I end up killing you ?”
“Do you want to kill me ?”
“No…”
“Then we’re fine. If that changes, we’ll improvise.”
He stays silent for a while, debating.
“I… I killed Cath. I- I didn’t want to do it. But I did it anyway. I loved her. And I still- Smurf-”
He’s not sure why he’s telling you this. He swore to take this secret to his grave. Maybe he trusted you more than he realized, or maybe he’s trying to scare you away.
“Andrew.” You called softly, gently caressing his face, trying to gain his attention. “It won’t happen again. And Smurf’s not here anymore to tell you to do the dirty job.”
“You’re not worried ?”
“Oh, I am. But not about me, about you. Each job you do stresses me. I trust you and your abilities, but what if this time you get caught ? What if the super rich hawala tries to get revenge ? He has the money for it. Also, I heard J mention you took one of Pete’s eyes out ? I mean, I’m pretty sure he didn’t see you as a friend back then, but now I don’t think he’d pass up an opportunity to get back at you.”
“He won’t.”
“Mh. That’s a bit funny. You worry about killing me, but I worry about people killing you.” You said, chuckling dryly.
Pope stayed silent, thinking. You closed your eyes, relaxed, thinking it was the end of the discussion.
“How are you not afraid ?” He asked after a while, startling you slightly. You almost fell asleep.
“Of you killing me ?”
“Yeah.”
“Because I trust you.” You sighed, nudging yourself closer. “Que sera, sera.”
“Maybe you’re sicker than me.” He said, making you laugh.
“My brother in Christ, you’re- you’re a walking mental disorder.” You continued laughing, forcing a small chuckle out of him.
“I’m not.”
“You’re right. My bad. Every kid sorts by color their M&Ms or Skittles.”
“I never should’ve told you that.”
You snorted, kissing his shoulder.
“What else did you do ?” You asked, thumb caressing his cheek.
“No. I’m not telling you. You know too much.” He replied, making you chuckle. You wrapped your arms around his, keeping him close, linking one of your hands with his.
“I’ll ask Deran or Craig then.”
Pope let out a scoff. He knows his brothers wouldn’t talk about him unless they wanted him to be a pain in their asses, but you knew how to recognize when they were in a good enough mood to talk, so them talking to you had a high chance of happening.
“Go back to sleep.” He finally said, and you sneered quietly.
You shifted a bit, making yourself more comfortable as you closed your eyes. You felt him squeeze your hand, holding it tightly.
Although you quickly fell asleep, Pope stayed awake, thinking about your words. You really trusted him, and he didn’t really understand it.
There was better than him. Less unpredictable, less dangerous. Baz’s words along Smurf’s actions resonated in his head. No one would love him. No one would have a kid with him. Yet, you were here, saying the opposite. Forever present and understanding, patient. Loving.