Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The motel the FBI had stashed Matt in was a two-story affair with all the doors opening up towards the parking lot. John quickly checked a scrap of paper for Matt's room number and then parked right in front of it.

His quick knock was answered with, "It's open!"

"Jesus, kid, Lucy wasn't kidding when she said this place was a shoebox," John said as soon as he opened the door. The room itself was tiny to begin with but that deficiency was further compounded by piles of large boxes stacked in the corners. By the electronic brand names on the outsides, they looked to be new.

Matt was in the process of putting on a t-shirt. He shrugged as soon as he pulled it on. "I'm not going to be staying here long, so it doesn't matter. But thanks for letting me store the stuff from my apartment at your place. It'd be a lot more crowded in here otherwise."

John watched Matt grab his cane and then his wallet, phone, and an electrical wall plug tester. "I don't know," he said, holding the door so Matt could hobble out of the room. "Lucy wasn't able to scrounge up much from your old place. There's not much left."

Matt sighed. "Yeah, she told me that when she dropped off my clothes. Or what was left of them anyway. Fucking Gabriel."

Once again John held open the door for Matt so he could settle himself into the car. John noted how gingerly he moved his leg as he carefully maneuvered himself inside. Still getting over his own bullet-wound, John could sympathize. Matt still had some weeks before he would be back to normal. Right now, he was probably still in a lot of pain.

He only winced once though, so John didn't say anything. As soon as he was settled, John jogged around the car to the driver's side.

"Thanks again for doing this, man," Matt said when John began to reverse out of the parking spot.

"It's no problem. I'm on leave until I'm 100% so I wasn't doing anything."

Matt frowned at John, eyeing his shoulder. "Are you sure you should be driving?"

"Kid, I've done far worse than driving with wounds that were twice as bad as this. I'm fine." John expertly pulled out into traffic to prove his point.

Still looking unconvinced, Matt studied John for a moment before shrugging.

"So, what's first?" John said.

Wincing as he shifted in his seat, Matt pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. John glanced over and saw that there were three addresses on it. Matt listed them off, and John took a left out of the motel parking lot and headed to the nearest apartment building on the list.

**********

They spent most of the day looking at apartments, and it was slim pickings. "It's the Fire Sale," Matt said when they had arrived at the first place and John had given him an unimpressed look. "Everything's in disarray and anything that was on the market is off until the Feds have fixed the mess Gabriel left. This place won't be so bad inside. You'll see."

It was that bad. Cracks in the walls, large stains on the ceiling, and a very unpleasant smell had only been the first signs. While Matt plugged in the electrical plug tester to each outlet, John opened up the cupboards and turned on the tap. The water pressure was shit, and the cobwebs in the cupboards were impressive.

The poor cell reception was the reason Matt nixed the apartment. John rolled his eyes and they headed to the next contender.

Flypaper, black with dead flies, greeted them in the main foyer. John spied rat traps in all the corners. When he'd checked the bedroom, he saw small red stains that usually heralded bed bugs. Matt was more concerned with the number of dead outlets.

The third apartment building had a wall of windows, half of which were damaged in some way. Most were simply cracked but there was one with a large hole that had a plastic bag taped over the missing glass.

"That's probably the one I'll pick," Matt said as they drove back to his motel.

"Are you shitting me?" John demanded. "A bit of plastic isn't going to keep thieves out."

"It's not like new windows would stop someone determined to get in," Matt replied with a shrug.

John shook his head in disbelief. "Thieves are opportunists. Every apartment in that place was an invitation to robbery."

"Well, it's not like there was a lot of choice." Matt leaned his head against the door and watched the scenery passing by.

"Jesus, kid, are you always so impatient? You only began looking, and you're already giving up? Is that how you ended up in that last dump of yours?"

Matt scowled at John. "My last apartment was great. If you hadn't blown it up, I wouldn't need to find a new place."

John rolled his eyes. "For the last time, I am not responsible for what happened to your place. And don't change the subject. The places we looked at today were crap, and you know it. Give yourself some time and find something halfway decent."

"Easy for you to say. You're not on a time-crunch," Matt muttered.

"What? Why? Are the Feds kicking you out of the motel?" John wouldn't put it past them. Fucking penny-pinchers.

Matt shook his head. "No, it's not that. Bowman said I could stay in the motel as long as I liked."

"Then what's the issue?" John asked.

Shifting to make his injured leg comfortable, Matt said, "There won't be room soon. I told you that I don't have any family in these parts. None of my friends have any space for extra furniture. I need to replace everything so I've been hunting around the internet. I'm not exactly swimming in money so I've got to pounce on a good deal when it comes my way. And I just won a bid on a beautiful computer desk -- like seriously gorgeous -- but it's huge. Even if I manage to fit that in the motel, there won't be room for a table or bed when I order those. I'm already swimming in replacement electronics. I really need to get a place so I can set up properly and get back to work."

"Jesus, is that all?" John spotted the motel up ahead and changed lanes to be able to turn. "I'm already holding your shit from your old place. If you need to, you can store your new shit with me."

"Really, McClane-" Matt began but John wouldn't hear it.

"No, I'm serious. Jack and Lucy aren't living at home anymore. I have space to store shit without it being in my way. I can just throw it into Jack's old room until you need it. But, seriously Matt, don't rush into anything. You're still recovering from a gunshot wound. If there's anything my experience can teach you, it's don't rush a recovery. Seriously, it will fuck you up forever. Look for a good place to live, not the first piece of crap you can stand. There's no reason to jump into anything. The FBI's footing the bill for now. After the mess they made, let them do that."

John had turned into the motel and parked in front of Matt's motel room during his little speech. He was now looking Matt in the eye. His own bullet-wound hurt like a bitch, which set off the myriad of older wounds he carried. John was used to this kind of pain, but he was well aware how fucked up that was. He didn't want Matt to be dealing with tight muscles and PTSD because he didn't give himself some proper time to absorb everything that had happened.

Matt looked torn. "I don't know-"

"I do," John said decisively. He unbuckled his belt and opened his door. "It's no big deal. Just send the desk to me and I'll put it up. We can look at some more apartments next week."

Coming around the other side of the car, John offered a hand to Matt. His grip was firm as he used John to help himself stand. Matt's first few steps were wobbly as he turned towards the motel. It was all John could do not to grab his arm to steady him.

"Well, if you want to offer, then who am I to turn you down?" Matt said nonchalantly. He looked utterly drained, and John wondered if he was giving in because he just didn't have the energy to argue. He was still healing. He should be in bed healing, not out apartment hunting.

John didn't bother arguing about that though. He was a shit example himself.

"Okay, call me when you're ready for round two. Try to find some decent places this time. You know, where the walls are actually intact," he said as he escorted Matt to the door.

Matt offered a half-hearted middle finger before disappearing into his motel room. John hoped it was to take a long nap. That actually sounded good, and he wondered when he'd turned into such an old fart.

**********

"The elevator is currently out of order," Mr. Dryer said as he welcomed them to apartment building eight on Matt's apartment hunt. "But we have a showcase apartment on the ground floor that you're welcome to look at."

John could see the pinched look in Matt's face that suggested he was in more pain than he was letting on. They'd done a lot of walking and standing so far today. The idea of hauling himself up two flights of stairs probably sounded like hell right now.

"Yeah, that would be great," Matt said. Mr. Dryer looked pleased, and quickly showed them the apartment.

It was certainly the nicest apartment they'd seen so far. It was small but cozy. The paint looked new and crisp. Everything was clean. John didn't see any sign of animals.

"Looks nice," Matt said after he tested the outlets and looked around. John noted that his perusal was half-hearted and he didn't walk any further than he had to.

"Yeah, it does. I'd still like to see the apartment Matt would be getting," John said. Something about Mr. Dryer didn't sit right with him.

"Oh, I assure you, there's no need to make your son walk up all those stairs with his injury."

"Matt's not my son," John said. It wasn't the first time they'd been mistaken for father and son. "And he can stay here while I take a look."

Mr. Dryer frowned for a moment, glancing between them. Then he offered an awkward smile. "Oh, of course. I can assure you that the unit is large enough for two, and we support all manner of lifestyles here."

Matt coughed to hide his laugh, but his eyes were dancing with amusement. This wasn't the first time they'd been mistaken for a gay couple either. John just rolled his eyes, and said, "All the same, I'd still feel better seeing the place."

Mr. Dryer didn't look very pleased but he didn't miss a step either. "Of course. Your partner can stay here while I show you the apartment. Right this way."

John looked at Matt, who waved him on before sinking down into a nearby couch.

Mr. Dryer chatted the entire trip up to see the apartment and while John poked around. Just as he thought, the showroom apartment was far nicer than the actual apartment but it wasn't the worst he'd seen either. He did note that there were some loose fixtures and cracked tiles in the bathroom. Some of the paint was peeling but not enough to be a concern. John knew Matt wouldn't care about that.

What did concern him was a bare wire coming out of the wall. "Oh, I was just in the middle of looking at that," Mr. Dryer explained when John brought it up. "The last tenants left some things in need of repairs. I assure you they'll all be taken care of by the time you move in."

John didn't bother correcting him. If Mr. Dryer was telling the truth, this wouldn't be a bad place for Matt. Certainly, none of the things that needed fixing would be out of a Super's wheelhouse. A day's work would set it to right.

John followed Mr. Dryer back downstairs to the showroom apartment. Matt looked a second away from falling asleep where he sat on the couch. "Hey, how did it look?" he said when he saw them. He shook himself slightly, as if to wake himself up.

"Decent. Just some minor issues that need to be taken care of," John said, offering Matt his hand again so Matt could lever himself to his feet without putting too much pressure on his leg.

"And I promise you, those will be taken care of quickly. So, what do you think? Should I get the paperwork?" Mr. Dryer said.

"Well," Matt said, and John could see he looked torn. He was too tired for paperwork but if this place was all it looked to be, then he wanted to get moving on it. He was probably as sick of looking at apartments as John was.

John saw danger here though. "We've been on our feet all day looking at places. Why don't we look at the paperwork when we're fresh tomorrow," he suggested.

Matt looked beat enough that Mr. Dryer didn't even seem surprised. "Of course. You have my number. Just let me know when's convenient for you."

He shook their hands and escorted them outside.

"It looks like my apartment hunt is over," Matt said as he settled into the passenger's side with John's help. "The Super seemed nice."

"Yeah," John said noncommittally. Something still felt off. Shutting Matt's door, John noted a young couple about Matt's age coming out of the building they'd just left. "You stay here, kid. I'm going to check something out."

When John returned, Matt appeared to be asleep. He jolted awake when John shut his door, though John had tried not to slam it.

"What was that about?" Matt asked, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Just like I thought, the Super's a weasel. The couple gave me a laundry list of repairs that they've needed done but they can't get the Super to so much as talk to them, let alone get the repairs done. They say the elevator's been out for six months now. If you want that apartment, you'd best get used to walking up and down stairs. I don't look forward to hauling up that monster desk of yours but I'm more concerned about the wire coming out of the wall that I saw."

Matt made a face. "Of course it was too good to be true."

John laughed. "It could be worse. Put it on the list of possibles. I doubt anyone's going to snap it up any time soon. I'm running out of steam to look at anywhere else today. You want to grab a bite to eat or go straight back to your motel?"

"I could eat," Matt said, straightening slightly in his seat. "And you promised I could check over my stuff today."

"So, I did." Turning the car on, John noted Matt blinking rapidly as if to keep himself awake. They'd had a long day but not long enough for Matt to be this tired. "You pull an all-nighter last night?" John asked as he pulled out of the parking spot.

"I wish." Matt's tone was half wistful, half bitter.

"Then what's up?" John pressed. "You look terrible."

Matt snort-laughed. "Thanks, man." He looked at John, and must've seen that John wasn't going to let the subject drop. Sighing, Matt said, "It's my meds. They're messing me up. And my leg hurts like a bitch. It's hard to sleep. I thought the worst was over after I'd been shot. No one said it would get worse during recovery."

"They're pulling you off the good stuff," John said. He'd had ample experience with that. "Means you're getting better. But you really should be sleeping. Your stuff's not going anywhere."

"No, I really need to make sure my stuff is compatible. I got a sweet deal from one of Warlock's friends on a couple of new blade servers but I have to make sure they're not lemons. I get the feeling they might be refurbished."

John shrugged, since he had no idea what Matt was talking about when he started going off on technology. "How's the job-front?" he asked instead.

"Good, actually. I've got a ton of offers. The Feds were impressed with how I handled the Fire Sale. They offered for me to work for them."

"I thought you hated the Feds," John said.

Now, it was Matt's turn to shrug. "Well, it is a little different working with Bowman and the others. I mean, he's still a total tool, but I don't think he's a bad guy. The job offer sounds amazing."

"You gonna take it?"

"I don't know. It would feel really weird to work for the Feds. I might not have to though. I got another offer from Global Security International. They provide security services to all sorts of corporations and even some small governments. They want me as a full time employee - benefits and everything - and test their security protocols."

"That sounds nice," John said.

Matt didn't look quite so enthused. "I mean, it's a nice gig but it would be so boring. I can't even tell you. I looked up their code. It's serviceable but very in-the-box. It might be interesting for the first few months but then I'd be doing the same thing forever. Mind-numbing."

"So, you can take the gig with the Feds. Or is that the same thing?"

"No, they test all kinds of systems, not just their own work. And, if I can prove I'm not actually a threat to national security, Bowman said I could work in their R&D department. I could see the next generation of security coding, and the latest in hacking. I doubt anything would be the same day to day."

"That sounds like your kind of thing," John said, though he had no idea if that was true or not. He could only measure it on how enthusiastic Matt sounded while talking about it.

"Yeah." Matt's enthusiasm seemed to die on this word. "I just don't know. I don't think I'm cut out for the straight-laced government world."

"So, what do you want to do?"

Matt thought about it for a moment. "I'd love to continue doing freelance stuff. It doesn't make as much as the Global position and I'll admit having the FBI to watch my back has become a selling point considering what happened. You can't put a price on freedom though, you know? But, I mean, I just got shot for working freelance. I'm not sure. I don't know what I'll do."

"Well, if I know the government, there's no urgency there. It seems like everyone's still picking up from the Fire Sale, so if you're not working on that, I don't imagine you'd need to make a decision right away," John said.

"Yeah, there's no need to rush." Matt grinned at John, since that had become something of a mantra with him over the last week. John just rolled his eyes and turned into the first fast food joint that looked good.

**********

John was sitting in his living room watching a basketball game. Matt had disappeared into Jack's room a while ago, opening up boxes and looking like a kid at Christmas as he began to sort out the junk he'd had sent to John's.

Knowing better than to get in his way, John had settled in to watch a game. He figured Matt would come out whenever he was ready.

After an hour, John finally noticed how quiet it was. He turned off the TV and went to investigate.

Matt was out cold on Jack's old bed.

John sighed, leaning against the doorframe to look at the picture Matt presented. His feet were still on the floor and he looked like he'd keeled over in place. His head wasn't quite on Jack's pillow and there were still wires hung loosely in his hand. His expression didn't look particularly peaceful. That pinched look was still present, suggesting exhaustion had toppled him over.

Shaking his head, John gently removed the wires from Matt's hand and took off his shoes. He pulled the blankets out from under him, and Matt's only response was a quiet murmur. Other than that, he made no protest when John tucked him into bed.

John was reminded of the last time he'd done this for Jack, back when he was a gangly teenager.

Wandering back to the living room, John noted how quiet it was. He sat in front of the television but didn't turn it back on. For a moment, he just soaked up the quiet.

John hated quiet. He hated stillness. He hated having a moment to think. Because all he ever thought about was bad shit. He thought about every time he'd put his foot in his mouth while talking to Holly. He thought about what a mess he'd made of things with her, and how there was no fixing it now.

He thought about Lucy and Jack, and the mistakes he'd made with them. He thought about all the lowlifes he took down on the streets and how afraid he was of bringing that home with him. He thought about Lucy in danger, and it being his fault.

He thought about all the terrible things he'd seen and how scared and small he really was, and so very human. He'd had his back pressed to the wall so many times and come out swinging but it took a piece of him every time, and he felt hollow and empty. Sometimes, he felt like putting it all into a box, throwing the box into the deepest pit within himself, and then running like hell the other way and never stopping.

John wasn't a young man anymore. When he was younger, he'd been afraid of the quiet. He was afraid of the demons inside him -- to look too closely at his failings. But losing Holly and fucking up things with his kids had made John confront his fears. He'd taken a long hard look at himself. He forced himself to sit in the quiet for as long as he could, forced himself to look his demons in the eye until he couldn't bear it anymore.

But, John now admitted, he still feared the quiet. Too much quiet drove him mad. There was too much quiet of late, since Lucy moved out. Wasn't that why he was stalking her? Trying to hold onto something so he wasn't alone?

John was very aware of Matt sleeping soundly just a room away. He thought about all the stressful shit Matt had endured during the Fire Sale. He thought about the way he'd winced with every step he'd taken today and the pinched look in his face. He thought about the tiny motel room in the middle of nowhere with unreliable public transportation, cutting Matt off from the world. He thought about how anxious Matt looked to get out of that motel room, no matter what the reason.

John had no idea how long he brooded on all these thoughts. Distantly he heard the bed squeak as Matt rolled over. He heard the door open.

"What time is it?" Matt asked when he shuffled forward. John didn't answer, as Matt could read the clock as well as he could. "Jesus, you should've woken me. I'm sorry, man."

"You needed the sleep." John's words sounded funny to him. He felt strangely out-of-himself.

"Still-"

"Matt," John interrupted. He patted the spot on the couch beside him, inviting Matt to sit down. "I've been thinking."

"That sounds dangerous," but Matt obediently sat down beside John.

"Look, I'm not into charity. And, to be blunt, you getting mixed up with the Fire Sale was your own damn fault."

"Thanks a lot." Matt scowled but also yawned.

John continued on, undeterred. "I don't feel responsible for you but . . . Shit, Matt, I've been where you are. No, actually, I haven't. Because I've always had Holly and the kids and support. And it's such shit to have to heal up without that. It's the little things that make the most difference. To not have to make your own meals when you feel like dying would feel better than getting out of bed. To have someone else grab a phone message and explain you're not available because the meds you're on make you dizzy or you're puking your guts out. Just to have someone else do the laundry for a few weeks so you aren't pulling on the same sweat-soaked shirt for the fourth day in a row and no longer feeling completely human."

"Is there a point to this?" Matt snapped. "Or are you just rubbing it in?"

"My point is that I'd like to offer that to you. I've got more than enough room here. You can use Jack's old room. I'm used to making meals large enough to feed four."

Matt looked at John like he'd spontaneously grown another head. "You've got to be shitting me."

John shook his head. "I'm not. I've been thinking about it. You should be getting better but you look like shit every time I've seen you. I think you're putting too much pressure on yourself too soon. It's no big deal to help you out. In fact, you'd be helping me out because I've been a little stir-crazy in this big house all by myself since Lucy left."

Matt's look of incredulity hadn't changed one iota. "I'm sorry, have we met? We have yet to spend ten minutes in each other's company without arguing, and you really think we can inhabit the same house? You think it's going to lessen my stress to have to listen to your shitty taste in music? I can only imagine what kind of food you think is 'good'." He shuddered dramatically, and John rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure you have a headset or earphones somewhere in all that junk of yours. And, yes, I think we can manage not to kill each other for a few weeks. Unless you think being a considerate guest is more than I can expect of you."

"What about your injury?" Matt said, sidestepping John's remark. "You're injured too. How would I not be a burden and set your own recovery back?"

John snorted, his expression dark and bitter. "I'll be fine, kid. It's the fucking truth. I've been through this so many times, this wound is nothing." Catching Matt's look, John quickly added, "Don't compare yourself to me. I'm a shit example. No one should be like me. You're not weak because you're not doing as well as me. Different injuries, different lives, and trust me, there's nothing normal about the life I've led. It's okay to need help, kid. I won't think anything less of you for taking me up on my offer, and I wouldn't be offering if I thought we couldn't handle it or it wasn't needed. So, suck it up and take the damn offer."

Matt still didn't look convinced but he didn't say anything for a good long minute. John tried to appear unconcerned and indifferent.

But he breathed a sigh of relief when Matt yawned again and finally nodded. "Alright, old man. If that's your play, I'm game. Might as well go crash again then."

He took John at his word, levering himself up with a wince and then wandering back to Jack's room. John followed because Matt looked so unsteady on his feet, but Matt needed no help to curl back up under the covers.

John smiled, and shut the door.

Chapter Text

John woke up before his alarm, just like every other morning. Not entirely human in the mornings, he stumbled towards the bathroom to relieve himself, brush his teeth, shower, and shave. He only half-noticed the clacking of computer keys coming from behind Matt's closed door. After four months of living together, he'd stopped being surprised every time he turned around to find Matt there.

Quickly finishing his morning ritual, John popped two pieces of bread into the toaster and made himself a bowl of oatmeal. It made him smile, since oatmeal made him think of Holly, who had hounded him for years to change his high-sugar diet into something healthier, and now Matt, who gave him no end of grief for eating "old man food" as he called it.

The quiet computer clacking continued unabated while John ate in peace. Despite the fact that Matt was often still up from the night before when John was just getting up, they rarely saw each other in the morning. That fact alone had likely saved them a shit-ton of trouble.

John did not expect to see Matt this morning. He finished his meal quickly, put the dishes away, and returned to his room to get dressed. Just as he was putting on his tie, he heard Matt's door open and the soft tread of Matt's feet. Using sound alone, he could track Matt's progress towards the kitchen, and he figured Matt needed one of his energy drinks.

Still listening with half an ear, John listened as Matt almost immediately left the kitchen and went through the living room and towards the hallway where their rooms were. Assuming Matt would return to his room, he was surprised by the quiet knock on his door.

"I'm decent," John said, pulling his tie taut.

"Wow, what's the occasion?" Matt said when he saw John dressed in a suit.

John frowned at his own reflection in the mirror on the wall. "I have court today."

"Oh . . . will you be home at the usual time then?"

Grabbing his gun from the gun safe, John nodded. "Should be. Why? Did you want me to drop in today?"

During the first month Matt was living here, John had made a habit of dropping by during lunch to make sure he didn't need anything. There wasn't any need for that now. Both John and Matt were pretty well healed up, but John still dropped by occasionally. It was a nice way to break up his day.

"No," Matt said. "I actually have a conference call with my new clients at four. It could run long. I thought you should know."

Holstering his weapon and stuffing his wallet into his back pocket, John said, "Unless things go pear-shaped at court, I should be home at the usual time, but I'll keep out of your hair. Just keep the door shut."

Matt nodded, moving out of John's way so he could exit his room. "What case is this for?" He gestured towards John's suit.

"That string of bodega B&Es. We have the geniuses on camera so it should be open and shut, but never underestimate a lawyer's ability to fuck a case to hell."

Smiling at the way John grumbled, Matt followed him towards the door. "I'm sure it will be boring and completely uneventful. Have a good day at work, dear."

"Fuck you, Farrell." John rolled his eyes, catching Matt's grin before he shut the door. Whistling, John had a spring in his step as he got into his car.

**********

Court was as boring as ever. Despite all the dramatic life-and-death situations that had marked John's life, his job was actually fairly boring nine-tenths of the time. Today was even more boring than usual, as the defense attorney didn't have any questions for him so he wasn't in the hotseat at all.

He still had to stay in case the prosecutor wanted to call him again. The judge adjourned for the day, and after a few words with the prosecutor about their chances of winning the trial, John was on his way home.

Remembering what Matt said, he shut the door quietly behind him when he arrived home. Matt's door was still shut but John could hear his voice so he figured he must still be on his call. John quickly changed out of his good suit into jeans and a comfy shirt, and then backtracked to the kitchen.

Putting a pot of water on the stove to boil, he quickly grabbed pasta, a jar of marinara sauce, fresh mushrooms, and some ground up hamburger meat from the fridge. He went to work browning the hamburger and cutting the mushrooms. While he was anything but a cook, he'd raised two kids under Holly's watchful eye. He knew enough easy meals to satisfy her desire to feed the kids wholesome fare. For some reason, John had the same impulse when it came to Matt.

Matt had very particular tastes. He knew what he liked and he complained loudly when he received any deviation from that. However, even if he complained a blue streak, he would actually eat anything put in front of him. John thought it was good for him to eat something more nutritious than takeout every night.

Noodles boiling away and the sauce made, John wiped his hands and grabbed a beer while he waited for the pasta to finish. Usually he would turn the TV on and find some kind of game to watch while he waited but he was still mindful of Matt's business call so he settled at the table with a newspaper instead.

John was actually impressed with how well Matt's freelance work was doing. He could only go by what Matt told him, but Matt seemed very busy. The last time they'd talked, Matt had still had the jobs from Global and the Feds open, but he did seem to be committing himself more and more to his freelance work. He certainly seemed happy.

The timer went off, and John drained the pasta. He had just begun making a salad when he heard Matt's door open.

"Phone call done?" he asked when Matt stuck his head around the corner.

"Yeah. When did you get back?" Matt said, coming the rest of the way into the kitchen. He grabbed his fancy brand of beer from the fridge and settled at the table with John.

"Not too long ago. Dinner should be ready in a few minutes if you want to wash up. Did you get any sleep?"

Matt took a sip from his beer before answering. "Yeah, I crashed for a couple of hours after you left this morning. How did your court-thing go?"

John shrugged. "Same old, same old. They'll get time; it's jut a matter of how much."

"Well, I have a few last minute things to take care of but I'm starving. You didn't make anything weird, did you?"

"Jesus, kid, you wouldn't know the definition of weird if it bit you on the ass," John said.

Matt grinned cheekily. He took his bottle of beer and went back to his room.

Now able to make as much racket as he liked, John wandered into the living room and searched for a game. There was the tail-end of a college football game, and he left that on for background noise as he returned to the kitchen to get the parmesan cheese.

Matt returned not too long after that, and pulled out plates, silverware, and hot-pads to set the table.

"So, who was on the phone?" John asked. As expected, Matt immediately launched into an explanation of his latest gig that took them straight through of dinner.

John understood maybe a third of the techno-babble Matt spouted but he was getting better at following the general gist of things. He certainly understood the excitement in Matt's voice and the light in his eyes that suggested these clients were offering something challenging and new. Matt loved to be challenged.

Just not at gunpoint, as he liked to stress.

"You got any other plans tonight?" John asked as he took his plate and put it in the sink to wash later.

"You mean work-wise? No, I did a shit-load this morning so I'm going to take it easy tonight. Just relax."

"I can get behind that." John took another beer, grabbed the remote, and settled into the couch.

Matt wrinkled his nose when he saw John change channels to the news. "You know this is all manufactured, right? They're just trying to scare you into buying security systems and insurance." That didn't stop him from sinking down on the couch beside John.

"Doesn't seem to be working, since I don't have either of those things."

Matt wrinkled his nose further, crossed his arms, but didn't reply. Watching the news with Matt could be fun, exasperating, or both. He disputed everything. John actually had a private clock going for how long it was before Matt jumped up to grab his computer and prove how wrong the news was.

Eight minutes today, which was pretty good restraint on Matt's part.

"You'd never see a story like that on your internet." John gestured towards the TV as they did a profile on a bunch of local old ladies who crocheted sweaters for dogs.

Matt rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that's definitely something to waste brain cells on knowing."

"Pretty sure Lucy would call you heartless for that," John said.

Matt rolled his eyes again, but turned his attention back to whatever he was reading on his laptop.

Feeling mellow, John leaned back into the couch. He could feel the warmth of Matt sitting so close beside him. The couch dipped in the middle, so anyone sitting on it naturally gravitated toward the center. Matt and John were doing that now, and John enjoyed having Matt so close.

"Ha, see I was right!" Matt said suddenly, thrusting his laptop at him. John didn't know why he kept doing that, since John never bothered to read whatever it was Matt wanted him to look at and Matt explained himself anyway. "The spokesman for the hospital is on the payroll of big pharma. No wonder he's saying the lawsuit is frivolous."

John didn't bother responding, since he didn't care, and Matt was quickly diverted to the next news story that outraged him anyway. John honestly didn't know where he could get the energy for that.

Idly perusing the channels during a commercial break, John picked a basketball game for tonight's entertainment. However, it didn't start for another hour.

"You want to go for a walk?" John asked after the news was over. They'd started the habit of walking around the block in order to strengthen Matt's leg, but John found it a calming exercise. He also thought it crucial to make sure Matt got out of the house at least once a day.

"Sure."

Grabbing their jackets, they headed out into the cooling evening.

"So, I wanted to run something by you," Matt said cautiously after they'd walked a ways. John didn't reply verbally but he didn't feel it necessary. "The effects of the Fire Sale are pretty much over. Most stuff is fixed now and life's getting back to normal, whatever that is."

John snorted but still said nothing.

"So, um, anyway, the rental market's back on its feet. I've found some nice places to look at, in neighborhoods even you couldn't find fault with. It's great you putting me up and all but I'm sure you'd be happy to get me out of your hair. You know, if you had any."

"You don't have to leave because of me. You're no bother," John said quickly. He didn't want to think he'd made Matt feel unwelcome.

"No, I know. You've been great. Really. But . . . well, it's time. My job's picking up and I should really get myself settled somewhere." Matt's tone was hesitant, and John felt his stomach tightening.

He managed a passable smile, and said, "Sounds reasonable. Did you want some help with that?"

"Well, I don't have a car so unless you'd be willing to lend it-"

"You're not driving my car," John said immediately. Matt already knew that though, and he looked at John expectantly. "We'll check out some places this weekend, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan," Matt said. "So, did you hear that Bowman got a promotion?"

It was clear he was trying to change the subject, and John was glad of it. He did his best not to think about Matt leaving.

His meal sat heavily in his stomach though, and an unsettled feeling followed him all the way home.

Chapter Text

"So, what do you think?"

John did one last visual sweep of the apartment. "Doesn't seem to be anything wrong with it," he finally conceded.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Matt also looked around. "Yeah. Nice neighborhood. Good size. Good price. Neighbors my age. Really, what's not to love?" Oddly, he didn't sound very enthusiastic.

"Well, I guess if it passes final inspection, then you've found yourself a place." John heard a tightness to his voice and quickly cleared his throat to remove it.

Matt frowned at him. "What's the final inspection?"

Moving towards the door, John said, "You return to the neighborhood late at night to see if there are any unwelcome noises or seedy characters or anything else that's not noticeable during the day."

"Man, I should've done that with my first apartment. I thought I scored a jackpot when I got it so cheap but it was right next to a frat house. Party music blaring 24-7."

John snorted. "You really telling me you minded? You would have been up anyway. I bet you felt right at home."

"Are you kidding me? They had atrocious taste in music. It was like having you pick it all. Total nightmare."

John rolled his eyes.

After wrapping things up with the building manager, they headed out to John's car. "You still meeting with Lucy for lunch?" Matt asked.

"As soon as I drop you off. You sure you don't want to come? I'm sure she'd be happy to see you," John said.

Matt shook his head. "Can't. I have a ton of code to write or I'll never make my deadline. I can actually take a bus home if you want."

"Nah, it's on the way."

That was a total lie but Matt wouldn't know that. John seriously doubted they would discover anything negative about the apartment late at night, so he was coming to terms with the fact that Matt was really moving out.

He didn't consciously acknowledge the fact that he wanted to spend as much time as possible with Matt while he still had the chance, but he took the opportunity presented to him right now.

They argued about music on the way home, interspersed with talk of dinner and the upcoming holidays.

When they reached John's house, Matt bounded out of the car with a smile and a wave. John watched him run up the stairs and disappear inside, and he felt suddenly drained and grumpy.

Not exactly the best combination when meeting his daughter for lunch.

Sighing, he put the car in gear and drove off.

**********

Lucy was already sitting at a table waiting for him when he arrived. She smiled when she saw him and got up to give him a hug. Despite her warm welcome, John continued to feel tense and unhappy. He tried his best to put it aside, mindful that his relationship with her was still a little shaky.

"Okay, did you and Matt have a fight?"

Having been pushing a fry around his plate while Lucy talked about her classes and her new boyfriend, her sudden change of topics had him whipping his head up to look at her.

"What? No! Why would you ask that?"

"Well, where is Matt? Is he sick?"

"He had some work shit to do. He's fine," John said, completely at a loss for the sudden change in topic.

Lucy was studying him closely. "What did you guys do this morning?"

"Jesus, Lucy, what's with the third degree? We just looked at an apartment."

This innocuous piece of news made Lucy sit up a little straighter. "Let me guess, there was nothing wrong with it, was there? Is Matt moving out?"

Unsettled by the intensity of her sudden interest, John was wary in his reply. "Nothing's been decided but, yeah, it was a nice place. No reason he won't take it."

"I knew it! No wonder you're so mopey."

"I'm not mopey."

Lucy rolled her eyes. "You've barely touched your hamburger. You've let me drone on about Brendan without one threat or snide comment about his art. You're totally moping."

John scowled, though he really couldn't dispute her claim. He'd tried to pay attention but most of what she'd said so far this meal had gone right over his head. He honestly couldn't remember her talking about her boyfriend's art.

Rather than look putout at not listening to her, Lucy looked amused and sly. John felt distinctly wary to see it.

"So, are you going to ask Matt to stay or is this a preview of what I have to look forward to for the next year?"

"Jesus, Lucy, I'm not moping because Matt's moving out. Why on earth would I ask him to stay?"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're totally gone over him," Lucy said.

John choked on his coffee. Sputtering to try to refute her, he said, "That's not . . . where did you . . . that's not . . ."

Ignoring him as if he weren't stammering like an idiot, Lucy continued on blithely. "I mean, I was as shocked as anyone. I couldn't believe it when you said you offered to let him stay with you. I'll admit I've been making these lunches in hopes of catching when this thing turned into a total trainwreck. But, surprise, surprise, you guys actually lived together without killing each other. You even seem to like having him around. Every time I've seen you, you've been more relaxed and happier than I can remember since I was little. Except for now. Now that he's leaving. Now, you're mopey."

"I'm no such fucking thing!" John growled. "Matt's not a terrible roommate. That's all. Where the fuck are you getting that I'm gone over him? Jesus, Lucy."

"Oh, come on, Dad. You totally are. I haven't seen you like this in years. You already treat him like family. When was the last time you let someone in like that?"

John felt a drop of sweat sliding down the back of his neck. "Lucy-"

"Seriously, Dad." Lucy again ignored his protests, her expression turning solemn. "This is the first time in forever where you look happy, and it happened after Matt moved in. So, why wouldn't you ask him to stay? What's the hang up? Is it the age difference? Because, I admit you two couldn't be more different, but it looks to me like you guys get on really well. Is it because he's a guy?"

"Okay, I am not having this conversation with you," John said. He shifted in his seat to grab his wallet so he could throw some money down on the table and leave.

Lucy reached over and grabbed his arm, preventing him from doing that. "Dad, please. I'm not trying to . . . I just want you to be happy. You have been happy lately. Do you know how weird that is for me? Do you know how long it's been since I've seen that? I didn't even realize how unhappy you've been until recently -- until Matt moved in with you and you were happy -- and that's fucked up, Dad. It's fucked up that your normal is unhappy. I don't want that for you. I don't want you to miss your chance at happiness just because you're a stubborn asshole."

She looked so earnest. It reminded John so much of Holly that it hurt.

He sighed. "Lucy . . . I know you mean well but . . . I'm not relationship material. Me and your mom . . . that was it for me and I fucked it up royally. We tried and tried and tried but it all fell apart, and it was my fault. I'm the one who kept . . . I deserve to be alone."

"Bullshit!" Lucy looked genuinely angry. "No one deserves to be alone. Mom's not alone now. You shouldn't be either. I know you guys tried, and I also saw you learn from your mistakes-"

"And then make new ones," John said.

"So, you're just not going to try anymore? You always taught me to fight to the bitter end. That's what we do in this family. We don't give up and we don't back down. But you're just going to let Matt walk out the door without a word? Dad . . ."

Lucy paused. "If you don't figure out your feelings before Matt moves out, you could lose him. You've been happy with him. Maybe things won't work out but . . . there are no guarantees in life, right? Isn't being happy now enough? Isn't Matt worth trying for?"

John had no answer.

**********

Listening through the thin walls to the sound of keys clacking, John knew Matt was still awake. That wasn't surprising. Matt kept odd hours.

The same shouldn't be said for John. He had work in the morning and it was the dead of night.

He was still wide awake though, listening to the familiar sound of typing. It should annoy him but he'd actually come to find the sound quite soothing, in a white-noise kind of way. He was coming to terms with the idea that the sound would soon be going away and he would again live in a large empty house that was far too quiet.

Even Matt's key clacking wasn't enough to drown out Lucy's voice in John's head. The conversation at lunch kept repeating on a loop. Tossing and turning, he tried his best to ignore it. He tried to focus on work. He tried to think of every terrible argument he'd had with Holly. He even tried to get an annoying song stuck in his head.

Eventually, he realized he wasn't going to get any sleep tonight.

Groaning, he got up and shuffled towards the living room to find something to watch on TV.

"Hey, did I wake you?" Matt said, coming out from the kitchen with power drinks in both hands.

Slumping into the couch, John said, "Nah. Just couldn't sleep. I'm just gonna find something to watch here."

Matt studied John for a moment before shrugging and heading back to his room. John could hear the muffled sound of his music for a second before Matt must have put his headphones on. Then it was back to the quiet keyboard clacking.

Unsurprisingly, there was nothing interesting on at this time of night. John finally settled on a rerun of an old black and white Western. He'd seen it before, of course, but it seemed good enough to distract him for a while.

Five minutes in and he was still thinking about Lucy's assertion that he had a thing for Matt.

"Fuck it."

John shut off the TV and got up. Hesitating for only a second, he knocked on Matt's door. He curled and uncurled his hands into fists as he waited. Unsurprisingly, Matt did not answer. John knocked louder and could again hear the faint sounds of Matt's music just before Matt opened the door.

"You busy?" John asked immediately.

"Um, I'm not doing anything critical, if that's what you mean. Why? What's up?"

John tried his best to sound indifferent. "I'm not getting any sleep so if you want to check out that apartment now, we might as well."

Matt blinked. Then blinked again. "Um, sure. Yeah, that's . . . Let me get my coat."

Nodding to himself, John went to throw on something halfway decent and get his own coat.

Neither of them said anything when they got in the car or when John drove off. There was almost no traffic at this time of night, and the quiet felt stifling.

"So, what are you working on?" John asked for want of any other topic.

Matt immediately replied with his usual flood of words, but John had no idea what the answer to his question was. It was enough to hear Matt filling the silence.

"Well," Matt said when John parked the car on the street right outside the prospective apartment building. "This looks about as peaceful as anyone could want."

He didn't sound too thrilled.

Turning his head in a slow sweep, John took in the quiet neighborhood. The streetlights were bright enough to keep the sidewalks well-lit and there were some lights from local businesses but nothing too distracting. It looked safe and quiet.

"Yeah." John's tone was gruff.

For a long moment, they both sat in the quiet. John stewed in indecision. He looked at the perfectly respectable neighborhood with its quiet streets and neat buildings, and he hated it.

John turned to Matt. "You like this place?"

Looking slightly uncomfortable, Matt shrugged. "There's nothing wrong with it. I don't really have a high bar. It's fine."

"You don't sound very excited," John said. He could feel his heart beating faster, and did his best not to get his hopes up.

Matt glanced out at the apartment building. "It's a nice place. I should snap it up while I can . . . But, I'm not gonna lie, it's been nice not to be living alone. I know you're probably anxious to get rid of me, but I've really enjoyed the last couple of months. I must be going crazy, but it's actually been fun." Matt laughed. "I thought for sure we'd end up killing each other in a week but it's been surprisingly easy so . . . I don't know, I guess it's a little sad to see it end."

Shrugging again, Matt couldn't hold John's gaze. It appeared he was trying to look nonchalant but he mostly just looked uncomfortable.

"It wouldn't have to," John blurted out. Matt gave him a confused look, and John winced at himself. "You can stay if you want. It's no big deal."

Matt looked incredulous. "Seriously?"

Hesitating for a moment, John turned off the engine to the car and twisted as much as he could while still buckled in to look Matt in the eye. Matt shifted back in his seat, arms folded, as he was pressed against the door. He looked wary as he waited to hear John's response.

John sighed. "You're in a good place now. You're all healed up. You've got a good job and lots of prospects if it falls through. You've even got a nice place all lined up. So . . . so, if you decided to stay with me, I'd know it was because you want to stay and not because you have to. I wouldn't want you to fill obliged or weird about it but . . . I'd like you to stay."

"Like, permanently?" Matt's expression dissolved from guarded to stunned surprise. "Why?"

John swallowed in a vain attempt to relieve his dry throat. His mind was racing as he tried to figure out what he wanted to do here. He spent a moment trying to find a way to get Matt to stay without making himself look too needy -- without revealing his own feelings and making himself vulnerable.

But John discarded the ideas as quickly as they popped up. They didn't feel right. Lucy was right. They were bullheaded in their family. Dancing around an issue wasn't his style. He knew what he wanted. There was no use thinking about it to death.

John took a steadying breath.

"I could give you some bullshit answer about the house being too quiet since the kids have gone. I wouldn't be lying. But I also wouldn't be telling the truth. The truth is . . ."

John paused, feeling the now-or-never moment hanging like a sword above him. He swallowed again but forced himself to push through. "The truth is that when I look at you, I don't think of my kids. No, when I look at you, I keep thinking about Holly. I keep thinking about what a fuck-up I am at relationships. You don't even know, Matt. Saying I love you was easy and I thought that was enough. I said it to Holly a thousand times and meant it every damn time. But saying I'm sorry? Saying I was wrong? That shit took me forever to learn to say, and it's the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Every damn time. I'm too old to change. Anyone in a relationship with me is gonna have to force that shit out. And that's shitty to ask of anyone. But . . . but I look at you and I want to ask that."

Matt's eyes were wide now, and he took his sweet time in responding. John could feel his teeth grinding as he forced himself to wait. "I had no idea. You've never. . . Why haven't you said anything before now?" Matt asked.

John glanced away, and it was an effort to drag his eyes back to keep looking Matt in the eye. "It wouldn't have been right. I didn't have this in mind when I asked you to stay with me. Didn't realize I felt this way. And I wanted to give you some place to recuperate without any drama. It wouldn't have been fair to spring this on you before you had somewhere to go and were on your feet. Now, you can tell me to go fuck myself without anything holding you back."

Matt raised an eyebrow. "You really think that would stop me from telling you to go fuck yourself? I tell you that on a daily basis."

"This is different," John said quietly. "I'm not looking for a fling. I'm not . . . I'm an all-in kind of guy. I committed to Holly, and I would commit to this. That's all I'd want from you. And if that's not what you want . . . I don't want to lose your friendship over this either. I've lost enough friends as it is."

Matt's reply seemed to take forever. His expression gave away nothing of his thoughts.

"You really are an idiot," Matt finally said. Prepared for rejection, John was caught off-guard when Matt reached over to grab his shirt and haul him closer. The kiss was awkward and enthusiastic; everything John didn't know he was looking for.

One of John's hands cupped Matt's jaw while the other slipped into Matt's hair, cradling the back of his head to take command of the kiss. The slight adjustment was enough to make John feel the kiss to his toes.

It had been too damn long.

When John tried to shift closer, he ran into the console between the chairs, reminding him where he was.

"Fuck, I'm too old to be making out in cars," John said, as he reluctantly pulled away.

Matt laughed. "I hope that's the only thing you're too old for." He wagged his eyebrow to make his meaning perfectly clear.

Growling, John used his hold on Matt to give him a hard kiss. He didn't let up until he heard Matt moan.

"We'll just see about that when we get home, kid."

"It's about time," Matt said, sitting back in his seat and waiting for John to start the car. "You have no idea how distracting you've been. Do you always have to walk around in an undershirt? In a house with paper-thin walls no less. I swear I was going to embarrass myself one of these days. I only started looking for an apartment again to save my sanity."

A surprised snort escaped John, not believing that but feeling a kick to his ego all the same.

"Well, your misery's on you for not speaking up," John said, starting the car. "You could have said something."

"Yeah, well, you're not an easy guy to read." Matt looked out the window. "I, um, I was thinking about it though. Like you said, once I had a place to live that I could retreat to when it all blew up in my face . . ."

John understood the feeling. "Well, now you don't have to worry."

Looking back over at John, Matt smiled. "Yeah."

They drove in silence for a minute.

"So, if we're going to do this, then we really need to talk about your house," Matt said.

John frowned. "What about it?"

"There's no personality. It wouldn't hurt to throw up a poster or two. We definitely need to upgrade your TV. And your phones. I can't believe you still use a landline."

"Jesus, kid," John said under his breath. Matt continued on, unperturbed. John rolled his eyes but there was a slight tug of a smile at his lips.

They argued about redecorating all the way home, and John wouldn't have had it any other way.

END