Chapter Text
The apartment was warm.
It was warm, and the lights were low, and it was home-y in a way Seven hadn’t seen since he’d been living with Jesse. Katie smiled at him awkwardly, leaning back and pushing a door open, “This here is your room! Uh, you’ll be sharing with Pollux, by the way.”
Seven brushed past her as he moved further inside - she’d tacked up a poster of an anime he’d mentioned in one of their past sessions – how did she even remember? That was ages ago – over a mattress with plain bedsheets folded on top.
“Haven’t managed to get an actual bed frame yet, but I was thinking we could go to an IKEA in a couple days?” She smiled awkwardly, “And see what you like.”
Seven nodded absently, craning his neck and looking around the room. ‘I’ll leave you here,’ she said, smiling softly as she shut the door behind her. He cast a glance around the room. It looked inviting. (It looked like a place that could be home.)
Gingerly, Seven lowered himself onto the mattress, rolling over to stare at the ceiling. He could see glow-in-the-dark dinosaurs that had been plastered to the ceiling and painted over – there was a big velociraptor eating a little t-rex. Blinking, Seven let his eyes drift shut.
He was tired. Bone-tired. A tiredness that comes from a lack of rest for weeks on months on years. When was the last time he’d let himself rest? Long before his mom died, that was for sure. God, his mom… it’d been a while since he thought of her.
A skull caved in, blood leaking on the carpet, brown eyes blank–
That was behind him. He was here now, not there, and here was different for so many reasons, and one of them (the most important one, the one that made his heart ache for something he’d never have and he didn’t know how to hold) was - Pollux.
Oh, Pollux - a brother he knew he couldn’t have, and he didn’t know how to have. Every time he looked at them, he saw someone better, stronger, faster than him in every way. Someone who was easy to love. The complete opposite of Seven, in every single way.
And Seven? Well, he wanted! He always wanted. Things he couldn't have, that were too good for him. When he was young, he’d learnt to assume the answer to everything was a firm, easy no.
And one day he’d picked up a dictionary, and he’d found that word - Unreciprocation. And that just described him, didn’t it?
Pollux was already busy with their sibling - Cas, was it? It didn’t really matter. Seven was used to playing second fiddle! The second choice, the I-didn’t-think-of-you-first: it was nothing new.
But this time it hurt.
(Maybe because this time, Seven had let himself care. This time, Seven had let himself care about someone who he - mistakenly, of course - thought would care about him, too.)
But it was fine! It was OK, really. He was used to it. He was used to disappointment. And he was doing great! He had - he had, uh…
He didn’t have anything, did he? These two people who barely knew him, they were his whole world.
And they couldn’t know him. Everyone who knew him, really knew him, either ran away screaming or tried to kill him. Valid reaction, honestly, he just wished it’d stop happening so often.
But it was okay! It was all okay, because Seven had his trusty mile-high walls and he would never ever let anyone in to see the actual seven, and he always had his (quite frankly, amazing) coping mechanism - humor! Humor never failed him. It made everyone love him!
(Because everyone loves a clown until they wipe off the makeup and they stop smiling. So that’s why he’d never stop smiling! And, to be honest, it was second nature. Maybe first. And Seven - he didn’t question silly little things like that. He didn’t question silly little things like repression, or bad memories, or his funny relationship with family, or the poster of Indiana Jones he’d pinned up inside his closet when he was twelve, and that he’d longfully look at in the mornings, because silly little things like that didn’t matter. He was fine, and he - and he served a purpose, and he made people around him laugh, and that was what he was for.)
Sometimes, he’d look at Katie and Pollux and wonder what would’ve changed if they’d been there earlier. If they’d been with him when he’d been kicked out: when Jesse died.
Maybe his life would’ve been different. Maybe he’d be a different person.
(Maybe he’d be happy.)
Maybe he’d call Katie mom and Pollux stupid names. Maybe they’d sit and talk over dinner. Maybe they’d curl up on the couch together on rainy days and watch a movie.
Maybe this would be home. But it wasn’t, and they didn’t, and they never would, so he should stop dreaming.
(Stop yearning for something that would never be his. Stop searching for love in glances, and stop hoping for a life he knew he couldn’t have.)
The front door shut with a bang, startling Seven from his thoughts. Pollux’s (obnoxious, annoying, familiar, stupid) voice rang through the apartment, shouting a greeting to Katie and Seven.
They poked their head through their door, shaking a grocery store bag at his face. “Got a fat pack of twix. I’ll let you have ‘em if you make lasagna.”
With a grin, Seven heaved himself off the mattress, already shouting at Katie about dinner.