[FIN] For Those Alone in the Blackest Night

[Imehal*]

The sun was shining through the conservatory's glass, brightening the open plan living area based on the ground floor of the house, creating the perfect conditions – both in lighting and warmth – for Bernadette to paint in the extended living space. Except on this third day of sitting at home, that was the last thing she wanted to do. Never mind that the last two days had been spent with her alternating between sleeping and waking to take more drugs. She felt better now, and could definitely manage going to school. There was no P.E. today, she had her drugs and if all else failed her, Ty never would.

Her father, unfortunately, had not seen things so optimistically. It might have had something to do with the fact that she was still finding it difficult to walk far – an unpleasant by-product of continuous pain her body had recently endured.

"Dad, come on. I'm-"

All it had taken was a glance for Bernadette to know that she was not getting him to budge. She was stuck at home for at least one more boring, tedious day.

-I won't be coming into school again today. No need to worry, I promise! This virus is just really hard to shake. Miss you, and hopefully see you tomorrow Yaz. Bee X-

Never mind that, later, she had conceded he had a point when it took nearly all of her carefully conserved energy to move her painting supplies downstairs with a pile of blankets after lunch. Getting dressed and looking presentable (which consisted of minimal makeup and a girly magenta shift dress, no shoes - whilst she was upstairs probably had not helped matters, but she had plans to escape outdoors whilst she was alone after painting for just long enough that she could be sure that she was not going to get caught mid-exit as soon as she was alone.

But her body had conspired against her best laid plans, and she had fallen asleep in that same warm, comfortable pile about ten minutes after her father had left to do some errands. Then she awoke with one leg inelegantly sticking out of the pile, gently disentangling herself to see how far she could get without another major body rebellion.

Just far enough to drink some water, take more painkillers and end her escapade curled up on the couch watching the sham that was a trashy soap opera marriage unravel because no one ever talked to each other on daytime television. Bored did not even come close to covering it.

This was her home, where she usually felt safe, loved and inspired to do anything she wanted. On days like these, Bernadette felt like a prisoner, limited by what her body was capable of doing. Except those lines were created with pencil, erased and moved day to day like they were drawn by an impatient toddler with an Etch a Sketch.

Mum works. Mum has friends, mum has a life, Bernadette tried to remind herself on these days – the worst days when she felt okay but knew that she really was not. But nothing could shake the memories of the days, weeks where, at its true worst, her mother needed other people to make her better.

But it never stayed that way.

Instinctively Bernadette reached for her cell phone, and sent two more texts on top of the half a dozen ones that she had already sent today. Clarice and Ty. They both managed to stay in touch even in school, giving her that precious lifeline but also the reminder that she was not there.

Knock, knock.

For a moment she considered not answering it in a petulant huff. But she was lonely, and even if it was only a brief interaction with a door to door salesman, it meant talking to an actual person. So, carefully, Bernadette made her way over to the front door, affixing a bright, slightly forced smile onto her face as she opened it.

The greeting that she had prepared for a total stranger died on her lips, the desolate, alone feeling abating in favour of warmth that did not come from sunshine. "Ty!" A smile, and not a trace of embarrassment at the joyful surprise in her voice and expression. She rushed forward to give him the biggest hug she could manage, and only realised a little too late that she was holding on so tightly because standing was swiftly becoming a chore.

It was all, mostly, concealed beneath happiness at the fact that she was no longer alone and that she would get to spend the- "You're skipping class!" Oh, she tried to sound mad at him. Really, she did. But she knew he didn't care, and if she was being honest neither did she. "Thank you," she whispered, snuggling closer into him.

[Latin For Dragula]

Slipping out had been easier than expected. He wasn't the kind to ditch school under most circumstances, so he didn't have a whole lot depth on what it would take. Turns out, it was pretty much as easy as slipping out the door after lunch. Didn't bother him none that it was easy, that let him focus on what was important a little more.

He'd lost track of how long he'd been working on this little care package for Bee. It'd probably started when they were still just friends, and then when things got more...well, it needed to be perfect, after that. He needed to be perfect. She deserved that much, after everything. It was possible he would have held on to it and just kept building it up in his head if she hadn't had another rough trip, but after the second day in a row with her being out, the time seemed right. Bee was hiding the struggle well, since that's what she did, but if there was ever a time for a pick-me-up, it was a day like today.

His phone buzzed as he made his way up the porch to her front door. It was probably her, and if it wasn't he wasn't inclined to answer just yet, so he let it rumble as he slipped a hand out from underneath the basket and gave the door a couple of sharp knocks. For a moment, he wondered if maybe he should have let her know he was coming instead of saving the surprise, even though he know she would have done nothing but try to talk him out of it for sake of his grades, to at least make sure she was able to answer the door and such. That worry proved unfounded as he heard movement insides, and the slow approach of someone coming to the door.

There she was, bolting out of the door and wrapping around him faster than he expected. He moved the basket aside so she wouldn't run into it and wrapped her up in his embrace, holding her gently against his chest. "Hey, Bee," he smiled down, rubbing her back gently. "Yeah. Figured I had somewhere more important to be than class today. I brought you a little somethin'."

[Imehal*]

"Other than you?" Bernadette teased, regretfully retreating from him as she reached for the door frame, eyeing the basket curiously as she supported herself so that he could step inside. "You spoil me, you know that?"

He, helpfully, shut the door behind him as she took hold of his free arm. She held herself close to his side, which had become a sneaky way to cuddle up to him and get support when she needed it. Still, he always seemed to know when it was the latter like he had a superhuman sense when it came to her. Knowing what she knew, Bernadette certainly would not have been surprised if he turned out to be a superhero one day.

She was just about to tell him so when it hurt again, this time an uncomfortable tugging sensation. Ignore it. "Hey, do you want a hot drink? It's cold out there and-" stab, and a sigh of resignation. Bernadette felt brighter, happier, just from Ty being there but that did not change the reality of the situation. "Or you can help get me to the couch, and then get your own drink because my body is more of a teenager rebel than both of us put together?"

[Latin For Dragula]

Ty just kept grinning as he stepped inside and shut the door. Company and the care package seemed to keep her from getting too pissed at him for skipping class, so that seemed to work out well. He didn't even think about giving his arm to her as she pressed closer. It'd become a habit over these last few weeks, and one he wasn't particularly inclined to question. He liked having her close to him, after all.

He was about to ask if she needed anything from the kitchen before the pain caught up to her. The basket came to rest on the floor as his stance shifted. "Easy goes, Bee," he warned before bending down and sweeping her up in his arms and giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead. The couch wasn't too far away, and this would be faster and safer than trying to guide her by hand. After navigating the mess of blankets on the floor, he set her down along the seat and knelt by the armrest, gathering the blankets forward in case she needed them. As he pulled them together, he looked over the edge of the couch into her eyes. "Anything I can get you?"

[Imehal*]

It burnt to find comfort in his gesture of kindness, but she nestled closer anyway. She felt warm, safe and guilty, but the care with which he handled her stilled the initial protests. I can do it. That was what she wanted to declare as he knelt to rest her on the couch, but realised that that wasn't quite right. I wish I could do it. I wish you didn't have to do this.

Then Bernadette realised that those weren't her words.

"Oh Megs, it's been fifteen years. When are you going to get around to realising that I don't do it because you can't, but because I can?"

Ever since she was a little girl Bernadette had watched her parents love each other in a way that she had only thought happened in books. They were part of a precious few who happened to find that person who filled all the holes within that they had not realised existed until they came along?

He had been special since he had come across her leaning against a wall, struggling for breath. But only now, when he was knelt in the same place that her own father had been for her mother countless times, observed by a little girl hidden on the stairs, did she realise why.

Her smile stretched so wide that it must have looked ridiculous, but how could he know how content Bernadette was in that moment just looking up at him? "I've got everything I need right here," she answered, as honest as the day they had finally stopped fighting. Then she set about shifting to an upright position, face carefully lowered to disguise the blush as what had just happened – what she had just said – sunk in. "I mean, nope. No, I'm good. Go get your drink before you make me get up and do it for you!"

[Latin For Dragula]

She had a gorgeous smile. He noticed it every time she lit up like that. It was still a small wonder he could make her smile like that, after everything else, but he tried not to think about it too much. Didn't really matter why, or how it happened. All that was important was that it did. The discomfort in the way she moved and spoke was clear under the surface, but she was still happy to be there with him. It was a new set of experiences, but one he'd grown pretty fond of over the last few weeks.

Bee's errant comment drew only a smile and a slight chuckle as he stroked her hair. She seemed embarrassed by it, to a degree, so he wasn't gonna press about it or make a fuss. He sat up slightly and got to his feet as she deflected him towards the kitchen and gave her a nod. "Sure thing. Anything you need from in there while I'm up?" Before she could respond, he paused and lifted the basket from the floor and set it by her on the couch. "Should probably give this to you, before I forget again."

[Imehal*]

"I..."

"Those are so pretty, Ty! What are they called?"

They were, she had learnt, called moss roses, and those beautiful little brightly coloured flowers had been carefully weaved into the basket all over. That had been at the beginning of summer when he had first taken her to the garden at the back of his home. Though it was not the first time that Bernadette had realised that there was someone who was a great deal more than he seemed beneath the deceiving exterior, watching him tend to flowers with a care that she knew better now than she had then.

It would not have taken more than a few fingers to count the people in the world that knew this side of Ty. This gentle, misunderstood man who would spend hours fastening stems of flowers with pins for a girl he had once exchanged only volatile words full of anger and misplaced hatred. He thought that he tried so hard for her she knew, but really she thought he had it all wrong. All this goodness had been inside him the whole time, and only fate knew how it had lasted so persistently until someone had been able to draw it out, inch by inch. If only she could find the words to convey how lucky she felt that it had been him to find her that one time.

"Oh!" Bernadette's hand shot out to grasp at his wrist, shaking her head with that same knowing smile. "Can you get me a little glass with some water in? And come back fast, I'm not looking unless you're sitting next to me and I really wanted to open it five seconds ago."

After all, she could see chocolate on top. Her favourite no less, high cocoa milk, with the bristles of paintbrushes poking around the bars on all sides.

[Latin For Dragula]

Ty gave her a nod and sat up. "Be back in a flash, promise." He chuckled to himself as he wandered around the mess of blankets and back towards the kitchen. If she stayed out of it the whole time he was gone, he'd be surprised. Still, he opened the cabinet and pulled out a couple small glasses for water.

In a couple minutes he was back into the living room, carefully holding the glasses together in front of him. As he glanced over at the couch, he noticed that she'd been pulling all of the moss roses he'd pinned in around the rim out and was piling them up beside her. He couldn't help but smile as she worked so carefully to extract each flower without damaging it. He didn't know what she'd get up to with them afterwards, but she seemed to fancy them more than anything else in his garden, so they felt like a good fit for presentation. As she moved, he circled around and came to sit on the other side of her, offering her the glass.

There was more to find within the basket. Flowers, her favorite chocolate, paint and paint brushes she'd mentioned needing a couple weeks ago, some dance CDs and...well, the last thing he wasn't quite sure about. More of a whim than anything she'd directly asked for or mentioned wanting while they'd been together. It seemed like a nice, goofy touch though, one she might appreciate from her mom's work. If nothing else, one miss out of all that wasn't too bad a record, he figured.

[Imehal*]

[Collaborated with Doc]

Each little clink of thin metal on glass was one more flower free, and another pin added to the little pile on the coffee table just in front of the couch. It helped keep her hands busy, and if she had been at all tense it would have been a relaxing exercise. Right now, it was simply a delaying tactic until Ty came back with two glasses of water in hand. Focused but happy, she smiled up at him, one hand carefully balancing the basket on her knees as she took the proffered water from him. Gently she lifted a few of the stems at a time, placing them upright in the water so that they would last as long as she needed them. Bernadette had plans for those precious little flowers, so they were not allowed to die on her just yet.

Bernadette took a break from the task at hand to turn and kiss Ty on the cheek, smiling even as she gave him the glass back to hold. The silence was extended but comfortable as she unfastened the last few flowers and deposited them in their new home. "There." The impromptu vase was then retrieved and placed on the coffee table next to the pins on the glass top.

The basket was a puzzle, and each item a different piece to put together to see the whole picture. The chocolate was a reminder as he knew she could not eat it straightaway, but just having it gave her cause to remember that this would not last forever. His thoughtfulness went beyond a day's planning though. The paintbrushes were something she had mentioned two weeks ago. She had needed (wanted) them to work on the next set of illustrations for Brendan, but had spent the last of her spare cash for the month on going to the museum with Ty. But here was a set of brand new brushes just for her, carefully arranged so that they would not get damaged by the basket.

"Oh crap. One of these days I'll notice when I'm out of paint before the jar's empty."

That had been a week ago. A glimpse beneath the chocolate revealed what Bernadette had already suspected. Four jars of paint; burgundy, plum, mustard, and seafoam. "I can't believe you remembered all this stuff. I mean, I know I talk a lot about stuff I need but I-"

Jazz CDs too. He had gone and collected up every single one of her interests and bundled them into a beautifully decorated basket. This went beyond bringing a quick pick-me-up after a few rough days. He had to have been planning this at least a week before she had even got sick. Had he pre-empted it, or did he just care that much?

"This must have taken you ages to gather together. How much did it even cost?" It was a deflection tactic and Bernadette knew it, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. How could she make it up to him? Did she need to? Did he want her to? Quickly, just to do something, she picked up a paintbrush at random, unusually heavy for its size. Playfully she tickled the tip of his nose with its soft bristles, and then felt something press against the tip of her thumb.

For what felt like the longest moment there was no pain, residual or otherwise. Bernadette put aside the paintbrush mindlessly, staring at the little ring in her hand as if it possessed all the mystical power it had in its lore. "Ty, this is- you got me a Star Sapphire ring?"

At the question Ty smiled goofily. "Yeah, I mean, I hoped it was the right kind, you and your mom are always talking about her, so I figured... y'know... might be nice."

Bernadette smiled whimsically, nodding as she half-watched Ty whilst examining the ring that was now sitting in her cupped hands. "Mom was always trying to get me into comics as a kid, but I just didn't get that involved. I always loved the Star Sapphire Corp though, and what they stood for after their adversity."

Then she set the basket behind her and carefully scooted herself towards her boyfriend, the ring protectively clasped in her right hand. They were closer now, so much so that their legs are touching. Taking a deep breath, Bernadette grazed her free hand's fingertips across his palm before intertwining their fingers. "Did you even look into what this is, Ty?"

[Latin For Dragula]

Watching her unpack the basket made every second he'd spent saving for it, hunting for its contents, and prepping the whole thing together worth it. As difficult as the last few days had been for her, all of that seemed to melt away as she went through and found each new piece. None of it was terribly expensive, or rare, or fancy. But they were the things that kept her going, the ones that made her passionate and let her express who she was. That made them special to her, and special to him. That made them worth the effort.

Then she found the ring. This was the big gamble of the whole thing, the bit he wasn't too sure about when he put the basket together. She wasn't super into comics or anything, far as he knew, not like her mom was, but she seemed into this whole Star Sapphire thing, and he thought it might be a small, cute gesture, since she didn't have one of the rings. So far, it seemed like he was on the mark. He listened to her as he felt her closing in and taking his hand, curling his fingers through hers and looking down at her with a slight shrug. "Not much, honestly. Comics kinda make my head spin. But it's a symbol of those folks, the Sapphires, yeah?" He knew that much. He'd tried looking into the whole thing online, but he got caught up in wikis and issues and hundreds of fucking blue links leading him deeper into this giant industry he couldn't even scratch. He'd found the rings for sale, though. To be honest, he was just happy he'd bought the right one.

[Imehal*]

Her mother's quest to get her daughter into comic books had started somewhere between starting elementary, and moving onto middle school. For as long as Bernadette could remember she knew she had always been fascinated by the multitude of worlds that had existed in panels and spanned across decades of work and imagination, but never on the same scale as her mother. Doing something with her hands and mind had always appealed to Bernadette more, though she suspected she would not have been half as dedicated to drawing and painting had it not been for that early introduction to such a wide spread of styles.

But one series had always stuck with her, and that was the Green Lantern. It was not so much the central group, or even the main character but the concept itself. Groups of people dedicated to one emotion or belief so strongly that it gave them powers that transcended what could be accomplished as an individual. Her mother had been so glad that one series had stuck with her that she never really asked why that one, and not others. It was probably for the best in hindsight.

Though Bernadette had only been ill for a few years, her mother had been enduring all this for a lot longer. As far as her daughter was concerned, she was a warrior in her own right. Their whole family rallied in moments of difficulty, she knew that her mother had to have had the moments of weakness, remembering hearing the bitter tears through thin walls at her grandparents. The thoughts of hopelessness at the idea that some things were just beyond your control that had plagued Bernadette when she had been diagnosed, she had never ever been anything other than a beacon of hope. She had never given anyone who came into her life anything but love and appreciation for their talents, support and companionship.

The Star Sapphire Corps had always reflected that strength that love could give even in the darkest of times that Bernadette treasured in her own life and knew that she was very fortunate to have. Never had she expected to find that sort of... How did she even begin to find the words to describe how she felt about Ty, let alone how he felt about her? Once they had been at each other's throats, ignoring their demons by railing against the world.

Her hand tightened around his suddenly. There was so much about his life that she would never pretend to understand, but the glimpses so far had illuminated her naivety. Everyone knew about Marcus; she had known when she had been waging wars of words with him. Even then she had known not to cross that line, but every now and then at moments like this, she wanted so badly to ask:

'Can you talk to me, can you help me understand? Can you look at me into my eyes, and recognise that you are part of the reason I'm able to be so strong even if you think you're not worthy?'

But she never asked, especially not now, Bernadette coming to her senses and realising that she had been quiet for some time now following his question. "The Green Lantern comics are the only ones that ever really stuck with me I guess. Mum loves all comics, but I love the premise behind these ones. Each Corps, that's a group, draws power from a different emotional well to use rings that they wield." The words would have sounded flippant, but they were laden with emotion and Bernadette could not bring herself to meet Ty's eyes as she turned over his free hand to press the ring into his palm.

'I can't ask, but I can try and help him see.'

Bernadette met his eyes carefully, blushing as she pointed at the gemstone. "Guess the emotion time." She tried to be playful about it, but the words that came out as barely a whisper felt impossibly loud to her ears. For a moment she wondered if he could see everything that she was thinking, including the answer, suddenly curious to know what he was thinking in turn to the extent that she had to bite her lip to stop herself from asking.

[Latin For Dragula]

Ty didn't consider himself great with words. Maybe it was part of growing up in a household where his voice usually didn't mean much, the youngest, smallest, and weakest in a crowd of people with more important needs, desires, and thoughts. Maybe it was how often speaking up and starting fights had gotten him in trouble growing up. Maybe it was seeing how words could be used to twist and pervert the truth both for and against his brothers. Ever since he first started running from Obinze though, he'd preferred action. Ever since he threw his first punch, and got his first detention, he'd preferred action. Ever since he saw Marcus sitting there silent in the court with his jaw wired shut, not a damn word in the world that could save him from the judgement that was already on him before they physically and emotionally silenced and stunted his brother, he'd preferred action. Words had power, sure. He'd tried to educate himself, to learn to be an advocate, because some people only responded to pretty, tricky, polite words. But nine times out of ten, given the choice, he preferred the honesty, the purity, the directness of action to any speech he could ever give.

So when Bee looked up at him with those big green eyes and that slight, playful smile on her lips, and asked him to guess the emotion that went with that little ring, he wasn't sure what to say. Put a gun to his head, and he couldn't have told you what it, what all of this, really meant to him. He knew exactly what to do though, even if it was something new, and bold, and untested between the two of them. In his mind, there was never another option once she asked that question. He kissed her, as slowly and gently as he could with the spur of the moment movement that his mind had conjured up.

Ty'd been with a few girls before Bee. He wasn't a stranger to situations like this, but this felt...different. Smoother. Calmer. With past relationships, encounters tended to be frenetic and...shit, if you wanted to romanticize it, you could call it passionate, but it was really more desperate. Like they both knew they were working on borrowed time, deep beneath, and neither of them had any illusions about this thing they had lasting, so they needed to burn its energy and momentum greedily before it escaped. It wasn't a conscious thought, at least not to him, but it was there under the surface, influencing their interactions. That's how he interpreted things looking back now, at least, with the emotions of the present moment flying around him. He didn't feel rushed with Bee. He didn't feel so fatalistic. They had time, all the time in the goddamn world.

By the end of it, he had no idea how long they'd kissed. Could have been seconds, could have been years. Didn't matter much one way or the other. It'd happened, and it'd changed things. He liked to hope for the better. He returned her slight smile, and brushed her hair back from her forehead with a whisper.

"Did I guess right?"

[Imehal*]

The smiling did not stop at his question; it was pretty much all Bernadette could do to convey just how right he was, that this was. It was as she kept staring that she realised she wanted to kiss him again. Not to confirm anything, just because it was fun and joyous and an unbelievably perfect way to convey how much she cared without saying a single word.

"Well that's that then," Bernadette insisted with a laugh that felt natural and awkward all at the same time, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck. "No take-backsies."

Then, after a moment, her arms tightened that little bit further. She shifted that little bit closer, hiding her face against him. Then ever so quietly, with a slight quiver to her voice she went ahead and declared what had only just become tangible to her barely ten minutes before.

"Hey Ty? I think I love you. You don't mind, right?"

[Latin For Dragula]

Love, Ty reflected, was a damn tricky word. Who the hell knew what it really meant? For instance, he loved his mom. He loved Atsa. He loved Elan, Marcus, and Franklin. He loved his father. Deep down, he probably even loved Obinze and Yetunde. Most of them loved him too, in their own way. They were a family, and with all the shit they went through they needed to be together. They tried to support and accept each other, in their own way, and keep the peace. That was love for them. What he felt for Bee wasn't quite that straight-forward.

He'd been attracted to women before. There was certainly a hell of a lot of that at play here, but Bee was far from his first girlfriend, and farther from the first girl to ever catch his eye. He wanted her, and he wanted to be wanted by her, and that was powerful enough on it's own that he figured you could probably call that love too, though maybe a shakier one. There was more to it than that, though.

There was also the sense of respect and admiration certain people drew out of him. Close family members, coaches, teammates, heroes, all that jazz. That was probably some kind of love too. He'd come to respect Bee that same way, and to want to be a better person for her. Her approval and understanding was valuable in ways he still couldn't quite grasp. But even that wasn't the core of what he felt like they were talking about here.

Truth be told, Ty couldn't have said for sure if what they had qualified objectively as "love," or if love was even a thing that had a meaningful definition that two or more people could agree on. But he admired her. He respected her. He desired her. He'd move a goddamn mountain piece by piece if it made her struggle just a little smoother.

Ty brushed Bee's hair as she pressed her face against him, and craned his head down to give her a soft smile. "Nah. Not one bit. Matter a fact, I'm pretty sure I love you too, Bee. Ain't that a coincidence?"

[Imehal*]

Just like that whatever had been holding her happiness at bay washed away, gone without a trace and leaving a smiling Bernadette in its wake. Not relief, nor surprise. Simple acceptance that what she thought they had had a name, and at the same time realising that none of this needed a label because they both understood. Not completely, and perhaps they never would, but the need and want to keep trying regardless were right there given form in words that made getting feelings out just that little bit easier.

"'course it's not." Gently she disentangled herself so she could hold the little plastic ring that had been that final piece to get them here, glancing over the basket's contents scattered across the couch and remembering what he had done – not just today, but everything leading up to it.

"And I couldn't ignore that. I... needed to make sure you were alright."

Her fingers held the ring tighter then, and Bernadette released a breath that was not just from pain. "I'm so glad you came today, but I am going to feel terrible when you get in trouble tomorrow. So," she leaned up to kiss him, softly this time, "we oug-"

Then she heard the car trunk slam shut, stopped – both in thought and action- as she stifled laughter against Tyler's neck before, "-to make sure that my dad doesn't ever see how I was going to finish that sentence."