October 2nd, 1890 — Lachlan's Home, The Hebrides

There was a noise coming from his living room. He was going crazy.

It had been three days. Three long, vicious days. Lachlan had pondered every scenario, every outcome, everything he could have said or shouldn't have said. He hadn't admitted to loving her—something he didn't know whether to regret or sigh in relief at—but he'd put his feelings on the line with the hope that she would decide that he was enough.

He went through the same argument every time: he'd seen Fallon at her most vulnerable and she'd seen him it his. They shared a bond that no stranger who'd somehow managed to steal her heart could possibly understand. And yet. Was he enough? She'd come to his house three days ago to see if he was alive, had come to argue and chastise him for his poor communication skills and not caring about her. It didn't feel like enough. He couldn't sleep.

Any other month would have been a better time to be in the middle of this. Now he was at home, unable to work or even help with physical labor around the isles, and had all the time in the world to ponder his insufficiencies and insecurities. He'd once sworn never to lay his heart on the line, and the one time he betrayed himself he found himself wondering whether it was a good idea. Any other woman would have been safer. He could have opted for a gentle, tender soul who wanted nothing more than be a happy housewife. He could have found a herbologist or healer who could have brought something practical and useful to any potential home they built. But Lachlan had fallen for an fiery, self-righteous auror who had proven in a short, two-month time period that she might very well disappear one day and never return; and on top of that, she was a fiery, self-righteous auror who was involved with someone else. Someone she cared for just as much—and maybe even more—than she cared for him. And Merlin, he wanted her so bad—even more now that he wasn't sure he could have her.

She hadn't specified what time, or even what day she'd arrived, but he hadn't had enough in him to appear perfectly presentable at all time of the day. When it hit him that the noise he was hearing was the floo, it also hit him that he was a mess. His shoulder length hair was tied up in the back, his shirt was dirt-stained, his pants ripped in the knee, and his beard in desperately in need of a shave. He couldn't care right now, though. He needed to see her.

He appeared around the corner just as she stepped out of the fireplace, and he looked at her expectantly, dread, fear, and yet still an ounce of hope in his eyes. He couldn't speak. Not yet.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Fallon knew even as she stepped into the floo that this was to be the worst moment of her life. Lachlan was a kind and decent man, one who deserved a better life than the lot he was given, and she was only going to increase his suffering. Guilt over her decision ate at her until she was an anxious shell of her usual self. If only their confessions had come sooner, before she fell in step with Jesse. If only he had spoken of his feelings rather than squirrel them away as though they weren't meant to exist. Perhaps then they might've been able to fall into one another. Perhaps then she wouldn't be living with the crushing guilt and heartache.

She had allowed herself one additional day to steady herself before breaking the news to Lachlan. One day to prepare for the onslaught of devastation they were both to face. It was wrong of her to leave him in the dark for longer than necessary, she knew, but after days of agonizing over her choices Fallon simply needed the time to grieve on her own first. Jesse was right, maybe all they needed was a second chance. Maybe all they needed was for the timing to be right. If only Jesse wasn't a factor in her decision.

The puff of green smoke deposited her in the same room as it had three days prior. This time, though, when she locked eyes with Lachlan her gaze held every emotion but anger. Concern etched itself across her features near immediately after locking eyes with him. Merlin, he looked even worse than she did. Fallon had never seen him in such a messy state (and never wanted to again, if it was a display of his mental state), as he was always so pulled together and collected. Even in the Tundra he looked better than he did now, and he'd been steps away from death then.

"Hi," Fallon greeted as she took a hesitant step into the room. What she longed to do was wrap her arms around him and beg for forgiveness as she had with Jesse. To plead with him to remain her friend after this. Fallon would do just about anything to avoid losing him as she constantly feared she might. She couldn't though, for the second the truth was revealed he would withdraw from her. Lachlan would demand she leave and that would be it. Already, Fallon felt the rise of emotions she swore she would keep in check tonight. Tonight was about his grief, not her own.

She took a second step into the room, landing somewhere near the sofa he sat on three days prior. "I'm sorry I took so long," she began reluctantly. "It was a lot to process..."

  

As they exchanged glances, Lach felt dread fill his stomach. He'd already fantasized about what would happen when she arrived if she intended to choose him. In one of his imaginary scenarios, she spoke no words and merely crossed the room to kiss him. To say the kiss had lingered in his thoughts over the past three days was an understatement. In another scenario, she smiled in a way that no words were required. She'd chosen him, not the stranger.

But this was real life, not some fantasy he'd conjured up as a way of keeping himself afloat. This was reality, not the lingering hope.

She spoke. He didn't.

He watched her closely, only responding with a nod. He understood, even if he didn't. Rejecting someone, be it him or the other man, must have been just as emotionally taxing on her, and for a moment he regretted that he'd pushed her into an ultimatum. She deserved longer than that. Three days had seemed like forever, and yet now faced with the potential of losing her, it didn't feel like long enough.

He leaned against the wall and finally spoke. "I missed you," was all he said.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

This time it was her turn to nod. He missed her, and yet he'd gone eight days without answering a letter. The two couldn't reconcile in her head for her to be able to return the sentiment, though she had missed him. Fallon was convinced that after today she would spend the rest of her life missing him.

Try as she might, Fallon couldn't find the words to begin her explanation or her rejection. She loved him, possibly more than she loved Jesse, but she was too afraid to take the risk and step into the unknown. Life was simple with Jesse, their path a linear line to happiness. Regardless of her career, Fallon had never been brave enough to make such difficult personal decisions. In this one regard, she was as weak as a newborn babe.

A telling silence stretched between them as she struggled to find the words. Her expression turned from regret to remorse and back again. Eventually, she could only whisper three words so unlike the ones she wished she could say, "I'm so sorry."

  

There it was. The three words he dreaded to hear, yet had found himself growing increasingly convinced he would.

I'm so sorry.

Not a sound left his mouth, but the grief was fully visible on his face. His mouth fell open with a sob that never escaped, and he squeezed his eyes shut to an onslaught of tears. He wasn't enough. He hated pity, and be hated pitying himself above all, but for a moment he only wished to scream why wasn't I enough? He turned his body away from her and practically stumbled into the kitchen behind him in search of a towel or loose handkerchief. He couldn't cry anymore. Not with her here.

Even as his hands found the towel and he rubbed his face to redness, all he could focus on was the noise—and lack thereof—behind him. He listened for her voice, the sound of the floo network, the sound of anything, really. And then, after twenty or maybe thirty seconds passed, he took a deep breath, looked at his sorry face in the reflection of the window, and turned around, intent of facing her. Once last time.

"What is he that I'm not?" he demanded to know, because he believed he deserved answers if he couldn't have her heart. "What does he have that I don't? Money? A more stable job?" Not that he expected Fallon to prioritize those things, but there had to be some reason. Surely no one in her life shared with her such a close connection. There was no one comparable to Fallon in Lach's. His breath was heavy and his words shaky as he continued, and he found it difficult to stand still. "I know it hasn't been easy for us, I know." Boy did he. Whenever they weren't bickering, they were facing deadly situations left and right. "But...." He sighed and looked around helplessly, as if he could use anything in the room to help support him. There was nothing. No one. He felt the sobs building in his chest. "... But it would get easier." It was a promise he wasn't sure was true, but he was willing to bet on it. For her.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Fallon released a shaky breath of her own as he turned from her. The grief they were to suffer through had formed a chasm deep within her heart, consuming everything as it crumbled and fell apart. Their friendship would never be able to survive this. No matter how hard she fought or how much she cared, it would always boil back down to this point. This awful moment of sheer devastation.

She stayed rooted in place as the silence stretched on. Despite her every instinct screaming at her to flee, to avoid this carnage, Fallon owed it to him to remain until dismissed. Whatever questions he had she would try to answer. Whatever he needed from her she would try to give. It was the least Fallon could do to honor all he'd given her.

The questions came like rapid fire, leaving Fallon no time to react before the next was issued. Money and stability had never posed as a consideration throughout her internal debate. Fallon made enough as an auror to support herself and save some money, relying on a husband for an income was a ridiculous thought. One she thought Lachlan knew better to accuse her of.

"It's nothing like that, Lachlan," Fallon protested. They were standing close, too close for her to be able to think with perfect clarity. Her feet inched her forward unknowingly, a bridge to the distance. "He and I have a history, too. Not like ours, of course. And he ... he loves me." Jesse hadn't said as much, but Fallon knew it to be true. Knew it in the way he was willing to sacrifice everything for her happiness, and in the way he'd held her that night.

Fallon knew it in the way she knew she loved Lachlan.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and pressed on, "I know we would get better in time. That isn't it, either. I ... our timing is off, Lachlan. That's all."

  

Her answers did nothing to discourage him from pressing on. If anything, they filled him with anger on top of grief. He scoffed and shook his head. He loved her—if that was all it took to earn his heart, he would have her in his arms right now.  "And how would you know if I loved you or not? You've never asked." Of course he regretted not being open with her earlier about how deeply his feelings went; it may have saved them both heartache in the long-term. Lach had always believed that keeping his feelings to himself would spare him the heartache of parting ways, but in doing so he'd only managed to break his own heart. But he couldn't act like he was the only one at fault. Maybe he hadn't said anything before, but neither had she—and yet she'd claimed three days earlier that she'd had feelings for a while.

"And the timing..." He let out a bitter laugh. It had to be that, didn't it? Her other suitor had been more straightforward, then; his love must have been easier to read, easier to know. Lach wasn't that sort of person, but that didn't mean he felt any less intensely. "Of course the timing isn't right. You didn't give me any time." The tears flowed freely now, but all he could do was shake his head in disbelief.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

"You love me?" She foolishly asked. The question escaped her before she could suppress it like all the other feelings she had for him. Knowing of his love wouldn't make walking away any easier, it wouldn't help aid the decision she had already made. She hoped he didn't answer, hoped he spared her the knowledge that would be the final straw to her heartbreak.

She frowned. How was she supposed to give Lachlan time when he gave no indication of his feelings? All he did was push her away when things got difficult. That wasn't love or feelings, that was pure fucking misery. "How was I to know you needed time?" Each tear of his that slipped down his cheek was another knife to her heart. Fallon never asked to be the cause of such grief, never wanted to be in such a position.

  

Her question stopped him in his tracks, not because he didn't know the answer to the question or was willing to answer it, but because he couldn't believe the evident disbelief in her words. The tears streamed down his cheeks as he stared at her in a devastated silence. He knew he wasn't perfect. He knew he was absolutely awful at expressing his emotions, but for her to question it as if it was a sudden revelation after everything they'd been through... Couldn't she see it?

"Of course I do," he whispered, taking a single step forward. If she hadn't just told him that she was turning her back on him to pursue a relationship with another man, he might have reached out and grabbed her hand; but knowing that she would pull it back, knowing that she'd already decided that her hand belonged in someone else's... Merlin. It fucking hurt. Instead he used his hand to hastily wipe the tears from his cheeks, hoping to recover whatever dignity he had left.

"It's been three months," he reminded her. Three months wasn't long enough to establish anything serious, and in most cases not to feel anything so deeply. If not for the tundra, the recovery period, and the cuddling afterwards, he might have wished her good luck in her relationship with her mystery suitor. But those two weeks, followed by two more weeks of thinking almost exclusively about her, had only strengthened his desire—no, his need—for her. "I didn't think I would lose you in three months. I thought I had more time. I need more time." His breathing quickened as he spoke; it was the same panic, the same rationalizing period he went through after learning that he'd killed a woman. He hadn't had time to pursue her. He hadn't had the time to properly do anything with her—not while so consumed with the grief. He'd expected she would be there with him through it all.

Apparently she'd been off loving someone else. That hurt more than anything.

"My life's been turned upside down in those months, Fallon. You were the one stable thing I had," he said, said, finally succumbing to his tears with closed eyes. He couldn't look at her. He felt so betrayed, even if he knew she didn't owe him anything. It didn't change that the loss of her would be a blow he wasn't sure he could handle. "Of course I love you," he whispered, more to himself than her.

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   Fallon Gillespie

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Any hope Fallon had of restraining her turbulent emotions vanished in a single tense moment. The room's echoed silence made it impossible for her to miss his whispered words, and suddenly her whole world shifted again. Lachlan loved her, he loved her and she loved him, and that ought to have been it. A single tear slipped down her cheek that she didn't bother to swipe away. Love wasn't supposed to be this complicated, it wasn't meant to hurt this much.

Time was the one thing she couldn't offer him, not in the amount they needed to catch up to where she and Jesse stood. They were only at the starting line, their future a jumbled mess of possibilities. Whereas things with Jesse already had a steady course. (Were they engaged now? Jesse hadn't posed the question but made it obvious he was ready to. Was asking her just a formality at this point? Fallon couldn't tell.) She took another small step towards him, wishing more than anything she could ease this grief. Lachlan loved her and she was ensuring he would lose her as he'd lost everything else. Nothing she could do would help him. Nothing aside from changing her decision.

"I love you, too." She admitted in such a soft whisper it might've gone unheard in any other situation. If nothing else, Lachlan deserved to know the truth. He deserved to know his feelings weren't one sided, even if such truths would only compound the grief. (What he truly deserved was as fair a chance as Jesse, but Fallon couldn't grant him that without sacrificing her relationship.)

Nothing could've prepared her for his panicked words. Lachlan had had his life upended in the past two months, and here she was pulling his only remaining support. They could still be friends, they could still support one another through their lives, but he wouldn't allow that. With Lachlan, it was all or nothing, always. He complained about her doing it her way all the time, but she wasn't the one to have presented the ultimatum. Fallon wasn't the one forcing a divide between them.

Only two feet separated them now, but it may as well have been a mile for how far she felt from where they once were. This couldn't be it. This couldn't be where they ended. Not after the journey they'd had thus far. "I love you, too," she repeated again, another knife wound to his heart she was sure. Squeezing her eyes shut, Fallon took a step back until her backside hit the sofa. Now, she couldn't retreat unless there was an awkward maneuver, fuck.

"He's just ... " What was Jesse that Lachlan wasn't? Stable, selfless, open. "It isn't hard with him," she settled on after a short pause.

  

Loving her wasn’t enough. She loved someone else, and she loved him more. It was a crushing reality given how intensely he felt for her; he couldn’t imagine feeling such intense feelings for anyone else, not in the same way he felt for her. No bond would reach that level of intimacy, the sort that was not formed in society but rather separate from it altogether. It was so far removed from words like courtship and engagement that those possibilities had not crossed his mind until she’d revealed there was another.

Hearing her say she loved him did nothing to help. He thought it would, because it wasn’t a rejection. Her loving him meant that his emotions weren’t misplaced, weren’t without reason. There was something between them, and in any other situation those three little words exchanged between them might had solidified a future together.

But it didn’t. Not in this situation.

He watched her as she backed up against his couch, and for a moment he wondered what it might have been like to have her visit the way they’d planned. He’d agreed to, but that was before he’d learned that there was another. They might have had an awkward cup of tea before going out to the cliff sides. She would have asked about the dragons, and he would have insisted to show her the rest of the island before he put her in danger. He would have showed her where he watched the muggle fishermen in the distance, where the flowers bloomed in the spring, and where his favorite quiet spots were. He could have shown her the dragons, too, and she would undoubtedly gotten angry at him for being so protective of her. She would have forgiven him, though, because she would have understood—and more than that, she loved him. He wouldn’t have known it, but there was a comfort to that. Blissful togetherness with no worries of this.

That was out of the question now. This was all he’d remember when he passed her in the streets years from now, assuming he ever stepped foot of the isles again.

“It won’t always be easy,” he whispered in response, leaning back against the wall for support. “I thought it would be easy. Life. I had no reason to think there would be hardships.” He knew he wasn’t an easy person to be around, but that was because of fear. Fear of being hurt. Fear of unwantedness. Fear of helplessness. “One day something will happen with him, because life doesn’t care about your feelings. And then it won’t be easy anymore,” he spoke, more sure of that than anything he’d said tonight. Life’s up and downs were more certain than any love. “These have been the hardest months of my life, Fallon. We could only go up from here. It would get easier.” Especially knowing she loved him. No longer would the fear of the alternative drive a wedge between them.

He took a step forward, and then another. He moved until he stood a foot away from her, and—surprising himself, as evidenced by the way he his eyes widened—placed his hands on either side of her on the couch.

“The easy way isn’t always the right way,” he whispered.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

The truth in his words was difficult to stomach. In only a month, Fallon and Jesse had experienced great highs and depressing lows. A week of that month was spent not speaking, the remaining three were all nearly spent with hospital visits and continued letter exchanges. Who knew what another month would bring? Or a year? Fallon's gaze dropped to the floor, an unwilling acceptance of his truths. No, it wouldn't always be this easy, but she owed it to him to try.

It wasn't until she felt his arms caging her in that Fallon realized how close he'd gotten. She had no rebuttals, no explanations that weren't simply 'I made my choice.' Malou told her it was guilt that made this decision so hard, but having him stand so near made her doubt that. Fallon's heart beat impossibly fast as she looked up into his eyes, faster than a hunmingbird's wings or a strike of lightning. Her attraction to Lachlan had existed from the start, had been the first clue she had that she might one day develop feelings for him. And now, with him standing so close, Fallon could barely breathe never mind think.

"Where is up?" She asked in a whisper. Courting? "What if you only feel this way because of your grief? What if you don't want me tomorrow?" Her innermost fears laid bare before him. Her chest heaved with anxious breaths.

  

As he stared down at her, Lachlan wished for nothing more than to lean a little bit closer and kiss her. Physical affection had never come easy, but neither had the emotional intimacy; it seemed the presence of the latter made the former much easier to yearn for. He didn't have that right, though, not anymore. He'd forfeited it the moment she told him that there was another. He didn't dare move any closer, but as he stared at her he tried to remember every feature. He'd once thought she was no prettier than any other girl. Her auburn hair was not especially striking, but he still wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through it. Her freckles were dark and distracting, he he would have gladly accepted the opportunity to lay beside her for no other purpose than to count them. Her eyes—well, he'd always thought her eyes were pretty. Their warmth was reflected in even the slightest of sunlight, and he could see the glimmer of amber off the window light. He wanted to stare at them forever, but he didn't have that right anymore either.

"Up is happiness," he said softly, "and happiness is whatever you want it to be." He wasn't convinced that she wanted a linear, traditional relationship, but he wasn't sure that she didn't, either. He would be willing to give her whatever she wanted in return for her presence, her smiles, her laughs, and her love. He didn't want to make a bustling housewife out of her, or a keeper of children. He just wanted her. He knew that now—but it was too late.

Her questions struck him as particularly odd, because in no world did Lach see her as the type of woman who worried about being wanted. She knew her worth, both as an auror and as a woman; and yet, pinned between him and his couch, her words made him consider otherwise.

"If I wouldn't want you tomorrow I wouldn't have said anything I've said today," he explained, in hindsight realizing how confusing that may sound. She didn't know his history of relationships and lack thereof, but only because he'd purposefully refrained from discussing. "The grief may have brought it to the surface, but it's been there. I know it has, even if I've tried to deny it." It was an admission he was past due to make: that he'd actively avoided loving her.

He leaned down a little closer, close enough that he could hear her breathing and see the little frizzy hairs at her hairline. He reached up mindlessly and smoothed one into place, like he had many times while they were curled up together in the tundra. It was the little touches that communicated everything—how they felt, what they needed, that they were alive. He longed for that closeness, even more now that he knew he'd never have it again. "If I'd have known back then, Fallon, that there was even a slightest chance you wanted me, I..." He let out a shaky breath and shook his head. "I wouldn't have given you any reason to question my feelings."

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   Fallon Gillespie

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

His casual touch, a stark reminder of all their lonely days together, nearly broke her. If it wasn't for how close he was, her tears would've begun anew. How many hours had they spent curled up around one another? How many times had his frigid hands grazed her cheeks? Fallon thought on more than one occasion then that he might kiss her, but when he hadn't she realized those feelings existed only in her head. Surely, if he had had feelings he wouldn't have been as withdrawn? Surely, there would've been some sort of sign to pick up on?

It didn't matter now. The missed signs and lost opportunities were nonfactors in this moment. There was only the choice to be made, and it was Jesse, wasn't it? Jesse, with his selflessness and kindness. Jesse, with his wit and charm. Jesse, with his easy happiness and affection. It had to be Jesse, didn't it? Even Malou agreed.

Jesse.

Except, Lachlan was too close and he was promising her all sorts of changes that she didn't know if he was capable of. Depression didn't vanish overnight, after all, and it would be unfair of her to expect that. Her hands moved to his chest, to push him away or pull him in closer she didn't know. All she knew was she was now more confused than ever.

Jesse.

Her hands gripped the dirty fabric.

Jesse.

Six inches were all that separated them, Fallon pulled him into her, unable to ignore the pull of affection. Their lips met in an explosion of pent up feelings and grief. In any other situation, Fallon might've labeled it as violent.

Lachlan.

  

Lachlan felt a surge through his chest as her hands came to rest on his chest. It would be the last touch they shared. The feeling of her hands on his chest, to push him away and create distance, would be what she gave him to remember her. He didn't blame her. He wanted her to be happy, and had he not been so desperate for any light at the end of the tunnel he might have told her much. If happiness meant choosing the other man, one who was easy to be around and who loved her so much that his Lachlan's love was worth throwing aside, he would have to live with it. He would let her go, and he would sit on his couch and think of what might have been. He would wake up the next day and repeat the last few weeks of his life, trying to do physical labor until one day he either could or accepted his lost strength. Then he would think about how he should have been stronger for her, should have done more.

It would be an endless cycle. The pain, the denial, the pain, the withdrawing into himself. It would go on and on until he hardened his heart and his face to the outside world, just as he'd endeavored to all those years ago. He felt so small despite the fact that she hovered over him; it wasn't difficult to feel that way when she held his heart in her hands.

And she crushed it.

She did not push him away—no, if only it had been that easy. They'd been building up to that this whole conversation as Lach made one last ditch attempt to sway her heart. He knew she would go back to him. If he hadn't been enough for her before, he certainly wasn't doing himself any favors by becoming increasingly melancholic and desperate. But by pulling him in, she only made the pain worse.

He kissed her back, feeling a stinging pain in his lip that had either come from the pressure or one of their teeth. He didn't know, he didn't care. He didn't have the strength to pull away. He stepped forward until she was good and truly pinned against the couch, and only then did his hands slide down to her bottom to lift her up onto the back of the sofa. He knew this was a bad idea. He wouldn't regret it, but she would. She would pull away, wipe her lips, and then return home unable to say that she'd broke things off cleanly.

He pulled her tighter. His hands were everywhere—her back, her waist, her shoulders, and then her hair, where he'd wanted them only moments ago. He made a noise, but even he wasn't sure what it conveyed. Pain. Desire. Happiness. Anger. All of the above.

He wanted her to love him. To love only him. To choose him.

She did. She couldn't. She wouldn't.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Everything moved all at once. One minute, she was pressing an urgent kiss to his mouth and the next their bodies were flush together. Any thoughts of the decision, of the drama, of her heartache vanished as the kiss progressed. Somewhere in the midst, his shirt was unbuttoned and discarded, allowing her hands to freely roam the warm expanse of skin. Merlin, despite his inability to train throughout the past month, he was so bloody attractive.

It wasn't until it was over that Fallon realized what just happened. Her blouse was half opened, most of the buttons having been ripped in their haste, her trousers and underthings were ... somewhere. And, most surprisingly, Fallon laid with her head on his chest, her bare leg haphazardly thrown over his.

Oh, Merlin.

She wasn't sure what — if anything — there was to say. More than that, Fallon barely knew what to think. Of all the ways she envisioned losing her virtue throughout the past month, on a sofa with Lachlan wasn't it. After a sparring match with Jesse, or as they snuggled under stars. Something far less ... aggressive than that had been. Merlin, she was already sore.