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Fitz
Myeyelidsfeelheavyas I stare at my phone screen, watching the three little dots whir as Piper responds.
PIPER DELMONICO
Close, but no cigar. McDreamy, not McSteamy.
And then she adds a .gif of Patrick Dempsey for good measure, and I die a little on the inside. That’s what I get for trying to make a reference to a TV show I’ve only seen in passing when either Olivia or Frannie were binging.
FITZ WESTFALL
I take it you’re a fan, then?
PIPER DELMONICO
I mean, it’s hard not to be when Meredith Grey is one of the few examples of thriving widows in modern media.
And then I die a little more. Shit, I was not trying to bring up hard topics over and over again, but here I am, putting my foot in my mouth. Before I can apologize, she responds again.
PIPER DELMONICO
Besides, Patrick Dempsey is a powerhouse. He has a nonprofit that helps support cancer caregivers, which hits close to home.
So, hard topic, but also something she seems invested in.
FITZ WESTFALL
Is that what you were? A caregiver?
You don’t have to answer that if it’s too much.
The three dots appear, then disappear a few seconds later, and by the time my door swings open, it’s been five minutes and I keep glancing between my phone and my computer screen like a lunatic.
“Christ, man.” I don’t even have to look up to know who it is. “You look like shit.” Now I look up, and fit my brother, Freddy, with the worst look I can muster in my current exhaustion.
“Can I help you?” I say, though the iciness is half-assed. There are very few people who get even a sliver of reaction from me - Freddy and Frannie are two of them. Piper is quickly becoming one as well.
“Oh, fuck off,” he says lightly, flopping into one of the armchairs in front of my desk and setting his feet up on the edge, his checkered Vans well-worn and way too dirty to be sitting on furniture this expensive. I eye him warily - his hair, the same color as mine, is far too long, nearly touching the bottom of his ears with ringlets. He pushes up the sleeves of his blue sweatshirt, which sports the LSSU knight astride a black horse, displaying the tattoos he’s been slowly adding to since the day he turned 17. “I came to see if you wanted to go get lunch downstairs, but clearly you need a nap.”
My phone buzzes, and I quickly - too quickly - grab for it. But Freddy is too fast for me, leaning forward and snatching it out from in front of me.
A rumble leaves my chest as he reads over the screen, where I’m sure he can’t read the text, but can at least see who it’s from.
“Ooh, who’s Piper?” I reach across the desk and try to get it, but he holds it up, peering at the screen feet away from his face and typing on the screen. To my horror, I hear the unlocking sound.
“What thefuck?” I jump to my feet as he does the same, backing toward the door and scrolling up in my messages with Piper. Panic shifts through me, and I take several long strides to where he’s standing, his fingers on the door handle.
“You should have changed your password, dude, it’s still your anniversary with Liv.” As he reads, his eyes widen. “Holy shitballs, you slept at someone’s house last night?” In a flash of red hair, the door opens and he flies out of it, walking backwards down the hall as I stalk after him. I try to avoid the confused looks of Georgia and the surrounding staff, because I probably look like I’m about to commit cold-blooded murder. “Oh my God, Will, this is disgusting. Are you talking about Paranormal Activity?”
Hell, murder actually sounds appealing at this point.
I want to correct him - technically, I didn’t really sleep last night. But that would mean admitting that I was there in the first place, which would result in the interrogation from hell.
Once Piper fell asleep, I let her lounge until I had to slip out to the restroom, where I noticed a daily pill box with the night’s medicine still in it. When I knocked on Carla’s door and asked her about it, she blanched and then said that it was unlike Piper to fall asleep without taking them.
Based on the box, she hadn’t missed any in the last few days, so I chalked it up to the distraction of our activities and gently woke her up with a glass of water and the pills in hand. Then, when I went to take the glass to the kitchen, I stood there, staring at the disaster of a living room for so long that it started to make my eyes hurt.
So, I put on a true crime podcast and got to work.
