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She hated this.
Tom’s buddies had invited him out to go drinking. He originally planned on turning them down, but Becky had encouraged he go. She didn’t want to ruin a chance for a fun night or for him just because she didn’t like alcohol. Tom said he wouldn’t drink any alcohol anyways, and Becky believed him. She was right to, he wouldn’t drink intentionally, but apparently they had someone new on staff who didn’t know the different between an alcoholic or a non-alcoholic drink. And now she’s driving her thoroughly drunk boyfriend home because no one realized something was wrong until his words started slurring.
The radio was off. She knew having something playing wouldn’t help her calm down. Her passenger was silent beside her, which didn’t spell out anything good. She could feel his eyes on her, staring. She didn’t dare take her eyes off the road, didn’t look towards him. She didn’t want to give him any reason, any edge, to start something. At least not until she got home. She wouldn’t have a choice then.
The drive was both too long and too short. She hated having to sit silently and drive with this fear hanging over her but she, upon parking, could no longer stall whatever came next. Becky hated this. She lived years with this fear hanging over her shoulders, but if Becky could get through this, then it wouldn’t happen again. Tom wouldn’t let it. Tom wouldn’t let it happen in the first place, but he’s not really Tom right now. She can smell the Alcohol on him. People lose themselves when they drink. Becky remembers the lack of control she’d always have when Stanley forced her to drink with him. And Stanley himself was always so much worse when he had alcohol. She really didn’t want to experience that from Tom.
But she didn’t have a choice, did she? She had just got Tom back. She just became happy again. She could lose Stanley. She can’t lose Tom.
Checking the Hallways for the kids and finding it empty, she brought him upstairs to their bed. He still hadn’t talked. He was never one for words, but she hated this. Becky had to keep reminding herself that this was Tom. It felt like He was back. But He wasn’t yelling, He wasn’t doing anything, so it was fine for now.
She settled him down in the bed, laying him on his side and close to the edge. She left shortly to grab him some water, feeling the way his eyes left her for just a brief moment. She hated the relief she felt. Returning and setting the glass of water on the table by his bedside, she could see he had sat up. Then he raised his hand and-
She hated this. She truly hated this. Why did she think anything could change, that she didn’t deserve-
…
What?
Becky hadn’t even realized she closed her eyes, but upon opening them she came face to face with Tom. His face was flushed with alcohol and his mouth shaped into a small smile. His eyes were filled with emotion, they always were, but rarely did they ever show this much. He looked at her as if she was something precious, eyes crinkled with affection. The hand he raised now rested in her hair.
“Wow Bec…” Tom said, in a low, slightly slurring voice. Fingers were wrapped around her hair near her ear, slowly sliding down, warming up her face and entire neck and bringing a small smile to her face. How could she forget who Tom is? The boy who used to slide dumb notes into her locker. The guy who bought supplies for pancakes despite knowing he had pancake mix at home because he knew she liked to make it from scratch. The man who asked if he could hug her after she explained exactly what happened that night.
Suddenly, Tom’s hand dropped. At first, she was a little sad at its disappearance, then confused. Looking at his expression once again, his eyes had scrunched up. “ ‘m sorry, Bec.” He said. “I shouldna done that.”
“What do you mean, Tom?”
“I- I got drunk… then I when ahead a touched your hair like a creep.” He said. She couldn’t help but let out a slight giggle.
“Silly, you’re allowed to do that. I’m your girlfriend.”
“But I still shouldna done that without per- perminsh… consent.”
And oh.
Huh.
It was never the Alcohol, was it?
“Tom, you’re allowed to play with my hair, silly.” Becky said, and was immediately hit with a smile that she knew she’d want to see again. Maybe him getting drunk wasn’t such a bad thing. It’s nice to see a smile so genuine, a smile not held back by anything. Then again, Becky knows what it’s like to feel a lack of control over yourself, and she’d hate to take advantage of Tom in any way. Even if there’s no bad intent. “But right now, I think we both need to get some rest.”
“Bec, I don’ wanna. I wanna look at you.”
“Tom, I-“
“Has anyone told you you’re really pretty.”
“Tom.”
“Like, not only pretty, but so incredibly kind and so good with Tim.”
“Tommy.”
“Bec you’re quite literally the most wonderful woman in the world and I’m so happy to have you in my life.”
“Tom I know what you’re doing. Tim does the same thing.” Becky said, chastising a middle aged man like a child. It didn’t help that Tom pouted, full on pouted, like a child. Middle-Aged Man Tom Houston pouted. It was absolutely adorable. Like father like son, she supposed. Becky almost gave in, too, the idea of having Tom card his warm hands through her hair something almost not worth resisting, but alas, her training kicked in and she resisted. Grabbing a trash can, she brought it to his side of the bed, then laid down on her side.
Unable to resist this (and having no reason to), Becky laid her arm across him, curling in on top of him. Usually, it’d be the opposite, having Tom curl around her and her snuggle into him, but Tom had to face the edge of the bed, no matter how much either of them wanted to face each other. His hands wrapped around hers, rough with callouses from his woodwork. She could feel a little scar along his pink where earlier that year he had injured himself while trying to show off to Lex (though he claims he wasn’t trying to show off).
She could feel herself start to drift off, but Becky knew she’d be fine. She had the love of her life, her high school sweetheart. She had Tom Houston in her arms.
---
Tom Houston woke up with the worse headache he had ever felt. It took him a while to even realize he was awake, too distracted by the pounding in his head and the dryness of his throat. Though, ultimately motivated by these two factors, he woke up. His digital clock showed it was 8:53 am, far too early on a Saturday.
Realizing he was alone, he slid out of bed and almost tripped on a trash can near his feet. Luckily, there was nothing in it. Catching sight of a half-drained cup of water near his bed, he grabbed it and got changed into semi-decent clothes, realizing at some point last night he lost his favorite flannel, yet somehow didn’t change out of anything else.
Last night.
Crap.
No wonder he woke up alone.
Sprinting down the stairs (well, actually just sprinting for a second, getting really bad nausea, and walking kind of fast the rest of the way) he sped into the kitchen to see her. Becky Barnes, caught in the sunlight, her ginger hair glowing like fire. She was humming along to something by ABBA softly, playing the music aloud with the Alexa. A soft smile on her face. She didn’t seem to notice him, flipping pancakes made from scratch, as he knew she would be caught dead before using actual pancake mix.
Right. He can’t just stand here and admire her. He needs to apologize. He messed up last night, he knew how much this would hurt her, and it happened anyways. How could he have been such an idiot to not notice the alcohol.
Moving forward towards her, he set his cup of water aside on the kitchen counter. “Hey Becky.” Tom said, quietly. He almost hoped she wouldn’t hear him. He didn’t want to ruin this moment for her, where she just looked content, domestic. Yet the world would not hear his prayers and she turned around. Breaking eye contact before any assumptions could be made, he needed to apologize.
“Becky.. I- I’m sorry. I messed up, I got drunk and didn’t notice that what I was drinking was alcohol, which is stupid because alcohols usually have a strong bitter taste, but this isn’t about that, it’s about you and how I hurt you and-“ He started, stumbling through words he’d never been good at, before being cut off by a kiss to his forehead. Not expecting this and very startled, he looked up to see Becky slide down from standing on her tiptoes, and came face-to-face with her. She had a wide smile on her face, a look of affection in her eyes, crinkled to the point of being half-way closed.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.” She said, shrugging his flannel, which he hadn’t noticed her wearing earlier, over her shoulders, before turning back to her pancakes and sliding them off the pan.
“Did I do something… right?” Tom asked, confused by this turn of events. Becky just smiled and pulled him towards the Kitchen table. Settling him down, she dropped the pancakes she had just made in front of him.
She turned back to the pancake batter, and started making more, but not before grabbing his cup of water, refilling it, and bringing it to him as well. “You know Tom… I don’t think I mind you getting drunk that much anymore.”
What?
Apparently he said that aloud, because she responded “Yeah. Don’t get me wrong, I still dislike the smell of alcohol and would rather avoid anything relating to drinking at all cost, but if it’s anything similar to last night, then I would enjoy taking care of you. As long as it’s actually intentional this time.”
“What did I even do?” Tom asked. He had to know, because if it’s something that Becky seemed to really like, he’d like to remember it. She just started fiddling with her hair and smiled. “Oh, you know, played with my hair. Called me pretty. That sort of stuff.”
Tom didn’t think he’d be anything like Stanley when drunk, but he thought he might be a bit of a jerk. He’d always been called a Scrooge. Apparently though, he was a bit of a sap. Bit of a love sick idiot. And you know what? He’s completely okay with that. Sure, it was probably embarrassing around the guys, but it was worth it. Hopefully Lex didn’t see him like that. Upon further questioning, it was revealed she did not (thankfully).
“Speaking of Lex, where is she? And Hannah and Tim?”
“They’re all outside. Apparently Tim found a spider, freaked out about it and ran to Lex for help. Problem was, Hannah was also in the room, so she had to ensure the spider was safely transported outside.”
“…and they’re still out there?”
“Mhm.”
“…okay. Should I call them in for food?” Tom asked, eying the ever growing pile of incredibly good pancakes. Becky truly was a master chef when it came to pancakes. She shook her head. “I’ll get them, you probably shouldn’t be moving too much. We avoided you throwing up last night but I’m not taking any chances today.” She said as she slipped the last pancake onto the stack, turned off the heat on the stove, and set the pan aside. She walked towards the front door, opened it, and called for the kids. Their kids.
After about thirty seconds, with some shouting and audible pushing, all Tim and Lex ran through the doorway, followed by a slower Hannah. Rushing to all take some pancakes, Becky blocked them, saying “Hey, wait a minute. You were all outside, go wash your hands.”
“Okay mom” Lex said in a cheeky tone. Somehow, at that, Becky seemed to glow even brighter. With freshly clean hands, a bit of fighting over the last chocolate chip pancake which Tim got (leading to the realization that he should slide on some sound dampening headphones before his headache got worse), and some drinks they all gathered around the table.
He missed seeing Tim like this. Tim, ever since Jane, has been far too mature for his age. But like this? He looks like a 10 year old kid again. In fact, all of them look like kids. His kids. And darn if that thought makes his headache worse.
“So… what’s got you so smiley this morning, Becky?” Lex asked, a little less cheeky than earlier but the intent was still there. “Oh, nothing” Becky replied, glancing at him quickly, “Just got a little reminder last night, that’s all.”
Lex looked between Becky and him before exclaiming “Gross! Not in front of Hannah.”
“Not me?” Tim asked.
“No, you stole the last chocolate chip.” Lex said.
“Lex, no. We did nothing of the sort, Tom’s just a sweetheart is all.” Becky cut in. “But you know we are consenting adults in a-“
“I don’t need to hear this.”
“I am just saying-”
“No.” Lex said with a sort of finality, before diving her fork into Tim’s plate and stealing a Chocolate Chip Pancake. Which, once again, started the great chocolate chip pancake war, as Tim and Lex fought and bickered over food, somehow both missed Hannah stealing a pancake from Lex. It was the perfect heist. Tom was far more proud of her for that than he should be. It didn’t help when Becky joined in by stealing something off his plate. Upon being greeted by him looking at her, she just shrugged.
“What? I made them.”
He sighed, but he couldn’t help the content smile that slipped onto his face. He loved this. Sure it was loud and chaotic and slightly hurt and had a lot of fighting over pancakes, but it was perfect. It was so different from what he was used to from before he had found them. From before that Black Friday. But it was not a bad difference. In fact, it was the best thing that could have happened to him. These people, his family was the best thing that could have Happened to him.
He loved Tim. He Loved Lex. He loved Hannah. He Loved Becky Barnes. He Loved them.
He loved this.