Fixer Uppers

Night had fallen, wrapping its icy chill around the Irish home once more. For Christmas Eve, the merriment was lacking if not missing. Bridget had come down at some point to force everyone into getting along by way of movie-watching and a quiet 'family' dinner afterwards. The entire dinner had Avery avoiding eye contact with everyone except Bridget and Mira – the only safe ones that wouldn't get her in trouble. Of course, in true Bridget fashion, one was not to sit apart from those they were closest to. This meant that Avery was stuffed between Robin and Mira while Keiran was allowed to sit next to his mum and wife (who seemed less angry than Avery had expected, all things considered).

She hadn't spoken a word after getting back from her ride except to apologize over and over to Elliot for making him lose his room when she also knew that Robin wouldn't want to deal with her over night. He seemed alright with taking the couch, though, so in the end Avery knew there was no getting out of it. She had thanked him and moved to sit down at dinner, but as soon as dinner was over she knew that most people would be setting up places to sleep. Bridget and the other Hayes had their rooms, the Ivanovs would be trapped together in the spare room, and Avery suspected people would sleep early to leave Elliot to the couch without bothering him. Mira had opted to return home, which made things a bit less crowded, sleep-wise.

Plates were put away, the table cleared, and everyone slipped off to take care of their own things. Keiran, followed closely by Melissa, were upstairs already – he looked exhausted after everything – leaving Avery standing in the kitchen without anything to do or say. But suddenly (and thankfully) she remembered that they had failed to bring along their gifts for the next morning. She cleared her throat and glanced at Robin briefly before avoiding his gaze again.

“I'm, um, going to go back ho-.. back to yours and get their gifts. I figure you won't want to apparate..” Her hand rubbed the side of her neck in an attempt to find something to keep from fidgeting. “I'll bring you some things.” Without waiting for a reply or making eye contact, Avery gathered her coat, stepped outside, and disappeared.

Avery found a bag once she landed at Robin's, which was extended with a charm and then filled with the gifts and some over night things for the both of them (toiletries, pajamas, a change for the next day and so on). She very nearly stuck Robin's present in her bag before she realized two things: that they had agreed not to get anything and that she wasn't sure if he got her anything or wanted anything from her. Frowning, she decided that there was no point in him not receiving it, even if it wasn't directly from her hands. A piece of parchment, a quill, and a minor sticking charm later, a box rested on Robin's bed with a note stuck to it.

I don't know if I'll be here when you see this, or if I'll even be staying at yours after today, but I did want to say something (though I think I might have ruined the surprise of it). I really do love you. I don't mean that in the generic sense, either; I mean that I'm completely in love with you. And I mean that indefinitely. Tomorrow. Next week. Years from now, it'll still be true. You're my forever stuff. xA

Avery looked around the place, wondering if she would be back tomorrow – or, if not, how long it would be for them to get things worked out. There were so many things they needed to work out, and all she could figure was that all of this had started at Brunch, when she realized that Robin didn't quite know the parts of her that would affect him. Slinging the shoulder bag over her arm, she took a last glance around before returning to Keiran's and making her way upstairs to the room that had been designated for them.

When confronted with the question to fight or flight, Robin's initial reaction was almost always to scurry away and hide like some small animal. He had shamelessly dodged out of countless awkward or uncomfortable situations, dismissing it as common sense rather than cowardliness. No one wanted to get yelled at, hexed, or assaulted in any way and Robin simply preferred to avoid the consequences of his actions rather than stop the incriminating actions altogether. But now things had changed and the golden band he wore effectively destroyed his most trusted methods.

He couldn't run away from this.

After the meals most of the Hayes house guests retired to their respective rooms, leaving Robin and Avery very much alone in the kitchen. He hadn't spoken to his wife or best friend in more than few word fragments for the majority of the day, half angry and half still processing what he learned. Though most of the problem had came from his reaction (and he was well aware that his forgiveness would have been the better course of action in the long run), Robin couldn't quite grow up enough to treat them normally. They had changed everything.

It wasn't as if a kiss was an unforgivable offense. Robin wasn't heartbroken, faith shattered, or murderous. Through the long dinner and forced conversations he had simply been thinking. There was no need for Robin to look up at his wife across from him since her face had been imprinted in his brain, that horribly guilty expression flashing up whenever he closed his eyes. He glanced up as she spoke and nodded curtly before Avery turned and disappeared from the room.

In his wife's absence Robin ascended the stairs and found his way to the room Millie had shown him earlier in the evening. The single queen bed sat in the center, dominating the space of the guest room. A small bookshelf sat along the wall, more than half full of books that were held upright by odd trinkets that acted as bookends. Only a few personal photos were displayed in the space, enough to give it a customized feeling without giving the impression of being watched by the moving eyes in the photographs. There were none of Keiran (though he had seen some embarrassing childhood pictures downstairs) and he felt suddenly grateful.

Robin hadn't been lying when he claimed to blame Keiran. "Please, mate. I've known her since Uni. If anyone would have a chance, it's me." Even if Avery had started it, a man like Keiran Hayes wouldn't have done anything to stop it. Robin knew the man inside and out - he was his best friend, his confidant, and most importantly, his wingman. The pair had discussed endless women on countless different occasions together and, frankly, Robin could only marvel at everyone else's density that they really believed the domestic act that he had been preforming so well.

Keiran Hayes, a husband? It wasn't in his blood. Not that Robin could completely ignore his own hypocrisy with that statement. The men had been like brothers for years and if the older man was not cut from matrimonial cloth the same surely applied to his young companion. Robin sat on the edge of the bed and flopped backwards, staring up at the texture on the ceiling. The mattress was almost too soft under his back and he suck into the fabric with unexpected ease, unable to muster up the energy or reason to sit back up. He lay there considering his train of thought and eventually came to a simple conclusion:

It was all Avery.

He had always accepted his (and Keiran's) boyish attitude as fact, having been called a child by his brother at every family dinner they had ever attended. If Hayes' attitude allowed him to kiss another man's wife, what was stopping Robin from doing the same? With men so similar it must be their wives that set the relationships apart. Melissa was still a little girl - seventeen, Hogwarts age, barely through puberty. But Avery? She was everything.

For the first time in his life he wanted no one else.

Somehow this knowledge made him all the more disgruntled about what had happened between Keiran and Avery. He knew for a fact that his wingman wanted her, it was just an unpleasant surprise that his wife wanted him too. The words that she had blurted out in the kitchen had echoed through his mind throughout the day. She had been the first to say (or rather, imply) those three words but somehow he couldn't quite bring himself to accept what they meant. She was everything, but he clearly wasn't.

Spoiler:

Avery waited outside the door, listening for any sign that Robin was inside. Unfortunately, there was nowhere else that he could have been, so her chance of getting inside without his gaze falling on her was insanely unlikely. There was no getting out of this, she knew, and putting it off would only make her more anxious and less likely to be able to force the words out.

She pushed the door open and closed it behind her, trying not to stare at him where he lay across the bed, staring at the ceiling. Her fingers toyed with the strap of her bag, thinking back to what she had left on his bed. A shiver ran over her at the realization that they were still supposed to share a bed. She knew he wouldn’t want her to, and although the realization wasn’t surprising, it still burned a hole in her chest. Silently, she set the bag down on the floor and gathered up the things she had brought for him, setting them on the mattress beside him.

Not a half hour later, Avery found herself sitting on the bed alone, fingers toying with the sheets that covered her legs. She glared at the pillow that took up the space that her husband should have filled. It was like the bit of fluff was taunting her or suggesting some sad future in which she ended up alone in a bed just like this one. She rolled her eyes at herself but returned to scowling at the offending object nonetheless. Did Robin really think Avery wanted him to take the floor when it was so painfully clear that everything was her fault? She could see it all so easily now, where the alcohol had obviously clouded her mind the night before.

She peered over the edge of the mattress, trying to get a look at him. A part of her hoped he had slept well the night before, and could do so now. But the sensible side of her brain suggested how mental she was to think that this didn’t affect him at all. It did, didn’t it? If not, maybe she was right in her assessment of his changed interest in her. Avery frowned again, snatching her pillow off of the bed behind her and pushing herself off of the bed. If he was going to refuse the bed, then she certainly would, too. Robin didn’t get to make her feel even more horrible by being all chivalrous. Even if that wasn’t his exact intention. It was either that, or he just couldn’t stand to be close to her or to have to look at her.

She really was being a pessimist lately. She hadn’t always been that way, but something about hiding the truth from Robin had brought it out. It wasn’t like he had actually told her his story or anything, but that didn’t mean she could go on pretending everything was fine when all she really wanted was for him to make up his mind about her. If he heard it all and couldn’t accept it – didn’t accept her – then fine. She could figure something out. It wouldn’t be the first time her sleeping arrangements were made at the last minute. She always had her office as an option.

Avery threw the pillow on the floor and seated herself. No, she wasn’t about to gather up a blanket, regardless of the chill that filled the house. Her thoughts were too distracting. Instead, she turned towards the bed, curling up with her head atop the pillow and continued making hurried and nervous plans. Living in her office definitely wasn’t… ideal. But she refused to be that person that invited herself into someone else’s home. She undoubtedly couldn’t stay in the Hayes household – not with Keiran mad, Aiden gone, and Bridget so disappointed in her. It would just hurt everyone.

How was she supposed to start that conversation, anyway? How could she explain and let him decide if he didn’t want her? Finally, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

“You really should take the bed. I won’t be sleeping anyway.”

She wasn’t about to stop him if he chose to move; maybe he could get in a good night’s sleep and be less opposed to dealing with her in the morning. Yes, Avery, she chided herself darkly, Because he’s stupid enough to ruin his Christmas even further by listening to your baggage. I’m so sure.

A part of her mind suggested that the voice snapping at her sounded rather like Claire, but she had no idea if she was right or not anymore. She hadn’t been sure for years.

Silence reigned for a while, leaving her desperate for anything. Any word, any sign that he might be listening or might have chosen to respond. That he might care if she explained. After her mind started racing, she could feel the words threatening to fall far too rapidly.

“Look,” she sighed, not even sure if Robin was awake. He could have cast some silencing charm on her side of the room for all she knew, and she could be talking to herself. “I understand why you’re angry. I’ve said it over and over: I accept that this is all on me. I don’t have the right to expect lists from you or expect you to tell me everything. Just because my history isn't filled with friends or relationships or family like yours is doesn't mean that I can try and stick my nose into your business. Or stick myself into your life or your home. This was forced on you. You didn't want this, or me, and it wasn’t fair. I should have warned you earlier, instead of waiting for something to happen.”

She wasn’t explaining very well at all. Avery frowned, hoping for a moment that he would comment but not expecting him to. Her toes curled into the carpet repeatedly with the stress of trying to figure how to word things.

“I need to tell you about my past.” She said finally, the words far quieter than she’d meant them. “I should have before, but… I mean, I’ve never told anyone the whole of it before, so I’m not sure how. I’m not sure how you’ll take it. I don’t expect it to go over well, honestly, so I’ll understand if you react negatively.”

She averted her gaze to the ceiling, leaning back against the mattress after turning to face the door to the bathroom. Anything to keep from trying to look over at him in the space between the bed and the floor. “If I don’t tell you, though, you won’t ever understand why I’m… like this. Why I got so worked up about the wedding or why I bolted last night.” She winced silently at the memory, hoping he hadn’t done the same.

“So I want to tell you this now, so you can figure what you want to do in the morning.” The words tasted bitter as they left her mouth, the weight of them sinking in. This might it for them if she explained things poorly. “But I- I need you to stay where you are. I can learn to deal with the fact that when I look at you I’ll see how angry you are, and that you’re starting to hate all of these parts of me. That you probably don’t… don’t want me anymore.” She almost managed not to trip over the words, but they came out just as she had intended: as fact, and without any hint of malice or frustration. It wasn’t like she had a right to be upset about the things she had caused.

“I suppose if you stay there I can pretend for a few minutes that those things aren’t true. I can’t stand the idea of looking over when I’m talking and physically seeing your opinion of me change. See it get even worse.” Avery very nearly stopped right then, her throat tightening with the fear of it. “From a distance I can just know it, rather than have to face it. I don’t really deserve your agreeing to it, but I’m not sure I can tell it otherwise. So if you stay there, I’ll be able to tell you everything.”

Her fingers laced together and she tried to keep from tugging on her hair or twisting the fabric of her shirt in the space of time that was only filled by breathing and worry. Surely the story would raise more issues than the number it fixed, but at least he would understand. He had to understand.

It took some effort to convince her mouth to open, but when the words came out, they were far stronger than she had expected. At least she wasn’t falling into the trap of water works already.

“The last time I spoke to anyone in my immediate family, I was ten.”

Avery clenched her eyes shut. It felt like the door was staring at her, judging her every word, and she’d only just begun. Better to block out everything and just go on.

“I guess things were alright when I was younger. I don’t really remember most of it. The first thing that comes to mind when I think of childhood is my parents’ divorce. See, I was eight and Clarissa was four. I don’t know if she just wanted to keep hoping that they would get back together, or if she really thought I was lying, or what. But I tried to explain that it just wasn’t working for them, and that they weren’t going to be able to get together again. They couldn’t keep together for us when it made them sad, and I understood that. But Claire didn’t, I guess. I can’t recall exactly what was said, but I ended up so frustrated and scared about all of the changes. I was so angry that she didn’t understand that I yelled at her.” Avery’s arms came up to hug herself as a chill passed over her. The memory was becoming more and more faint, but the feeling was still there.

“She was so angry with me. And I get why. But she closed herself off from me and everything was changing. Dad moved out and Claire went with him. Even still, Mum seemed closer to Claire than to me. I just sort of kept to myself. Sure, I’d answer questions and the like, but I just didn’t feel right adding to their conversations. Mum knew I’d hurt Claire, so I didn’t know how to act. Honestly, any talking between Claire and myself involved fighting. It was a mess. I think the guilt of it just got to me… So more often than not, I’d stick to myself – as Claire seemed to many days as well – and let Mum and Claire chat.

One of those times I remember very well. I remember it word for word. So well that it hurts.” She shook her head. As if verbally attacking her little sister wasn’t bad enough, the coming part of her story practically came with the warning: Tears included. Robin would think she was even more off her jump than usual. “Mum sometimes seemed to feel a little guilty for not having a set reason for the divorce. She kind of went off on these stories or explanations, as if it would change things and make them better. Make them make sense. I was nine, and Claire was five when she told Clarissa the most important explanation. I guess she was still a little too young to get the importance of it all, but even from my spot in the next room, I understood what she said to Claire. She said, ‘You know, love, there’s that saying: Things happen for a reason. That’s just like what happened for me and your dad. See, everyone has a person out there who they’re meant to be with. Everyone has their Person. Now, if you find that person, you’ve got to stick with them. Remember that. Your father might find it, but not with me. So I couldn’t keep him from the chance; it wouldn’t be fair to either of us. Or to you. Just being close to someone or thinking you love someone isn’t always enough. Your Person has what I call The Forever Stuff. This stuff is what makes up a real, true love. It’s not anything material or anything you can see, but you can feel it. They fill that bit of you that is left empty, waiting for them. This also works for families. You’re my forever stuff just as I am yours.’”

Avery frowned. “It was all well and good, of course, and the idea was beautiful and romantic until I realized that mum never used any plurals except for putting her and dad together. Weird thing to notice, I guess, for a nine year old. But when you’re not included in a list of things your mum loves and apparently needs, and she knows you’re sitting right there listening? Well, that doesn’t bode well for your position in the family. So I spent the next several years wondering what exactly had changed. Why I wasn’t wanted, wasn’t needed, and was basically left to my own devices. By the time I left for school, I didn’t speak at all.

The last thing I ever said to my parents and Claire was Goodbye. Sure, I came home during breaks. But they didn’t really talk to me very much, and Claire was often with dad, so things weren’t very different and my silence continued until my fourth year. I’m not sure I even spoke during classes.” She shrugged, even knowing he couldn’t see her. “At the wed- … That is, you said that you didn’t know why we hadn’t met in school. I daresay it’s obvious now. I was that weird girl who liked dragons but didn’t really talk. I never asked, but Claire didn’t seem to want anyone to know we were related. Not her fault, though, I guess. I’m basically the worst sister that ever was.”

Her eyes stung. Apparently she'd been crying for a while without realizing it. When she paused for breath, her throat burned.

“I moved out before fifth year, living with a cousin on dad’s side – the one person I’d managed to keep in touch with. And thank Merlin I did, or who knows what I would have done?” She shuddered even to think what could have happened. “That’s when I started working and saving money for Uni. I met Keiran, who somehow convinced me to give a little information about myself. Enough for him to realize I’d started renting a flat and had no one to see for Christmas. So he brought me here… I’ve stayed in this room every year since. Christmas Eve until New Year’s day. Then I’d make myself head back to my flat and let them have their time alone together. Bridget always asked me to stay longer, but I realized it wasn’t even two years before I started calling them Mum and Dad in my head. It sounds kind of crazy, but knowing Bridget and Aiden, it’s not so hard to imagine.

I knew that if I stayed longer than that silently agreed upon week and a half, then I would never want to leave. I mean,” she corrected herself quickly, “I didn’t want to leave regardless. But when things went so badly because of me the first time… I just wasn’t going to risk it.”

Her fists clenched the fabric of her shirt.

“And- and I was right, you know?” Avery gasped out, tears pouring more quickly. “Because now Aiden is gone and I’ve already started losing my second chance at a family. Maybe I should have stayed longer during those holidays. Or maybe that would have just hurt more in the end.” Avery hated thinking about the past, obviously, but now that he had let her start, she wasn’t sure where to stop. “And now I’ve gone and messed up things with Keiran. So there’s another part of that family on the edge of falling to pieces. And then… there’s you.” She shook her head dejectedly. “This is the third time I’ve managed to ruin things for the people around me. For some semblance of a family.”

Robin had called them that, once. A family. Just the one time, in his letter. After she suggested that it was their home. But it wasn't. She had made it impossible for them to be the family he'd suggested. As much hope as the word had created, it was quashed by the idea that this sort of thing would happen. Now, here she was, exactly where she knew she would end up.

“I always end up losing the people I care about. I don’t know why I let myself act so stupidly and impulsively. The fear of being alone somehow makes it happen, I guess. I’m so afraid of it that it becomes real. So that’s why I was so sure, yesterday, that I was right. So sure I had to leave. Because, and you’ve probably caught on by now, sooner rather than later you’ll decide that this – whatever we have – just isn’t worth it.”

Her eyes blinked hard, glancing about the room. Merlin she'd mentioned their marriage hadn’t she? Oh hell.. She had gone and done it again, it seemed. She just would never learn. Her silence stretched on for at least a minute before she jumped into action.

“Look,” she said suddenly, standing and picking up the pillow, “um, I really think you should use the bed.” She tossed the pillow onto the sheets again, fingers dancing over the shorts she’d donned for bed as her eyes jumped around the room. Her flight instinct was kicking in full force and she wasn’t at all sure how to handle herself. All of the choices her gut had suggested recently had been dead wrong. Running hadn’t worked out so well the last time.

Avery was just plain tired. Tired of running. Of worrying. Of being that person: the one who ruined lives and hurt people. Especially herself. She had always known that she was like that. She’d always been a bit of what one might call a problem child. She just needed to stop. Stop completely. Avery doubted there was any chance of starting over with anyone she had mentioned in her strange semblance of a speech. So that included the man who she wasn’t quite sure how to do without anymore.

She pressed the palms of her hands against her face and sunk back to the floor, pillow-less and shivering. “I didn’t mean to hurt Claire. Or anyone.” The words came out as a whisper, mostly to herself, and possibly too quiet for Robin to catch. “And now, it’s too late to fix any of it.”

Dramatic? Yeah, maybe. But at that point, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. As if everything else in their lives hadn’t been awful already, she’d gone and dropped the bomb right on his head. Gone and given him a million reasons to do something rash like ask her to move out. They needn’t break any Ministry laws if they did that. Except maybe the whole having kids part. That wasn’t looking likely at this point. Not when he couldn’t even look at her. Avery wasn’t sure she wanted him to, though, considering she was curled up with her face in her hands like she was that nine-year-old again, and her mum had just dismissed her once more.

Robin had barely moved before Avery returned, bags in tow. He accepted the clothes she offered and changed beside the bed, aware of his bare skin in a way he hadn't since the first days of them living together. There was more caution than discomfort in the air and when they eyed the bed in unison he immediately suggested he take the floor and give Avery the more comfortable spot. Both parties were guilty for the stiffness of conversation and while neither blamed the other they were unwilling to make that first move towards healing the slightly bruised relationship.

Robin was disappointed but only slightly surprised when Avery lay on the other side of the bed. He thought vaguely of the other Finnigan twin lying on the couch downstairs and what he would have thought upon seeing a completely empty bed as two very foolish people slept on the floor. Avery had never been one to be babied and sometimes it drove Robin mad. She was so infuriatingly stubborn about not taking any soft treatment (in this case literally the fluffier option) that none of his attempts to be a better man could be successful.

Robin lay on his, back to the woman who would be just visible if he looked across under the bed with enough strain. He wasn't very tired but the idea of staying up any longer in silence was too painful to consider. The young man lay still and listened to the sound of breathing as he willed sleep to come early tonight. "Look," Robin's eyes immediately popped open and his head turned slightly, shifting him more on to his back as he unconsciously looked towards the source of the voice.

And then he listened.

It was hard to hear her at first and it only got harder. Each word cut like a small knife, only amplified by the backdrop of quiet crying that changed her voice ever so slightly. As she spoke little memories flashed over Robin from school days. Every conversation about and visit to the Bishop family home was being quickly reassessed and analyzed, fact checking and silently comparing Claire's portrayal to Avery's story. And while Robin was sure that the younger sister had never directly lied she had also been four at the time. He believed everything Avery said.

Robin had shifted fully to his back and his hand fell under the bed, ever so slightly outstretched towards Avery. Because even if the facts she told were true he couldn't quite handle her interpretation of them. They had already been married a matter of months but in some cases that was more than enough time to really get to know a person's heart. And while Avery was capable of hurting a fly (she was the designated bug catcher at the house) she was one of the most genuinely caring people Robin had ever had the pleasure of meeting.

Without a word Robin turned to his side, back to his wife again. His mind tumbled over her words, processing and already trying to piece together exactly what he needed to say. How could he explain that the Ministry had known what he wanted before he did? How could he describe the childlike excitement that he felt when he spotted her owl flying towards his window with a letter in his beak? Was there a way to assure her that nothing was broken beyond repair? He needed to tell her that they were worth fighting for but he couldn't find the words.

So instead of talking he pretended to sleep, fretfully drifting in and out until morning.

After forcing herself through the formalities that the Hayes family Christmas brought, Avery was exhausted. Sleep had never come the night before, a combination of the uncomfortable carpet as well as the stinging reminder that Robin hadn’t said a word, hadn’t corrected her, hadn’t tried – it all added up to her zoning out the entire morning. If anyone had spoken to her, she didn’t remember it. Except for greeting people and opening the gifts that had been purchased for her, and perhaps thanking people with a smile or a nod, Avery had stared at the floor and tried not to wrap her arms around herself.

Finally, Bridget conceded and agreed that the Ivanovs could head home; the woman had noted that neither presented gifts to each other, and probably assumed they were waiting at home. Avery’s was. She was regretting the note. She should have just left the box by itself, but it was too late. She couldn’t very well bolt into his room when she returned and snag it. He had left earlier, leaving her to spend time with Bridget, and was most definitely home already. He would have already seen it. Resigned to her fate, she picked up the bag she had brought back the night before and headed downstairs to find her jacket.

Bridget pulled her aside, down a side hallway which led to a guest bathroom. “Avery,” she began, “I’m not going to ask how you two are doing, but know that if you ever need anything, I’m here.”

“But, … Mum, you were so upset with me.” Avery hung her head, looking away. Bridget merely laughed quietly and hugged her.

“I can’t be mad at someone who considers me part of her family. And who is part of mine.” She pointed out, leaning back to brush Avery’s hair out of her face.

A parting smile was dropped before Avery turned to head out. Frowning, she remembered how despondent she had been when he said he was leaving. She had just nodded along and kept quiet. The fear of going back to how she was all those years, silent with the fear of upsetting people or lives, had kept her from staying quiet all day, though. After he had gone, she’d finally found her voice.

A turn and a crack later, Avery found herself outside Robin’s home, staring up at it and swallowing hard. It took a strong burst of wind sending a shiver over her spine to alert her to the fact that she should man up and head inside. She pushed the door open after some time spent mentally convincing herself to do so, closing it quietly and stepping into the main hall.

It took tripping over a curled corner of the rug in the spare room to bring any noise from her throat. Avery’s cry of surprise made her want to slap herself. She’d nearly made it back to the door to close it so she could throw herself onto the bed, but her stupid reflex reactions had probably alerted him to her arrival. Deciding it was too late to get out of his realizing she was back, Avery groaned and snatched up a book, heading to the living room. She damn well wasn’t going to make the first move towards fixing things. Not after he had let her spend a good twenty-four hours mulling over the fact that he hadn’t reacted to her explanation. He had let her cry and seemingly not cared a whit. She knew he had been listening, too, because she heard him shift to turn away. The memory made her pause in the hall, clenching her eyes shut as she tried to push it down. She could do this. She had been this way for years in school. Pretending nothing mattered. Pretending nothing could affect her.

Except everything Robin did could get to her. It did, clearly.

Avery cursed him mentally before continuing her walk into the main room, where she curled her feet under her on the couch and attempted to actually understand the words written on the pages.

Robin had a two hour drive back to Dublin that he used to overthink everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. While he couldn’t bring himself to blame any of it on Avery, her story couldn’t help but make him read into things that he had always dismissed. As he was driven across Ireland he gradually stopped pointing fingers at Keiran, Melissa, and anyone else and started to instead turn the focus inward. At about hour 1:40 he realized that while Avery had overreacted it was equally his fault for lack of reaction and willingness to let her leave so abruptly. Robin had all but pushed her out of the door with his sarcastic tone and idiotic list.

Something about Avery’s confessions bothered the younger man and gradually he made the decision that he needed to explain too and offer some sort of reasoning behind his behavior. Even when he wasn’t the one slamming the doors or crying the problem was still half him and it destroyed Robin to see Avery take all of the blame upon herself, completely unjustified. Much more than her story, the claims she made against their relationship hurt Robin and he searched for some way to explain how wrong she was. While he couldn’t control the hurt her family had caused in the past, it disturbed him how quickly she had dismissed their relationship has broken and worthless.

Robin arrived home in good time and tipped the driver well before walking up the steps to the small apartment and letting himself in. They had only been gone a night and the place looked exactly as he had left it but there was something in the air that was slightly different, perhaps a bit colder. He hauled his and Avery’s bags upstairs to their room, dropping them with the intention of unpacking later. Just as he was about to turn around and return downstairs, Robin spotted the package on the bed and with a slightly furrowed brow he went to investigate. He pulled off the attached note and flipped it open with the assumption that Avery had just forgotten one of the Hayes’ gifts here.

Robin’s eyes danced over the familiar scrawl, quickly connecting that this note, whatever it was, had been left here for him when she had disappeared after his fight with Keiran. He read it over once, twice, three times as he realized what was actually being said. As he glanced over it for the forth time the corners of Robin’s mouth curled up in a slight smile and his thumb lightly caressed the A that had been signed at the bottom of the page. However small, the gesture filled him with an unexpected reassurance and he found himself suddenly believing both what she said in her note and what had been so unexpectedly blurted out in the kitchen.

With a sigh Robin stood and stuffed the folded note into his pants pocket, already mentally revising the speech he had been going over on the way home. He should have known that bringing up Claire the day after their first real fight and her family story was probably a terrible idea but somewhere in his brain he was determined to say the things he wanted to. There were conversations that Robin had been avoiding since the moment he had learned the name of Avery’s sister and, ironically, it was only now when everything had gone to shit that he felt secure enough to willingly bring them up.

To pass the time Robin unpacked, got dinner in the oven, and wrapped the small gift he had bought Avery on a whim a few weeks prior. He left this package and the one that had been on his bed downstairs for later, not wanting to open the gift without it’s giver there. Robin had just returned upstairs to put a clean load of laundry away when he heard noise downstairs that signaled the arrival of his wife.

Robin had been almost deadly calm since Avery had told her story, no longer angry but blank faced of any other emotions. Even internally, the young man had been remarkably void of feeling beyond twinges of pain or guilt as he replayed the scenes like an awful movie inside his head. It was only when he knew she had arrived that a new feeling make it’s presence known – Robin was nervous to walk downstairs and see her. As soon Robin had left the Hayes’ he had felt awful for leaving them, especially Bridget, so early and he wondered what scene would greet him in the living room.

It was only with his time away that he had come to realize how much he had shut down and once again a wave of guilt washed over him as he realized he hadn’t even hugged Avery since they had received the news about Aiden. She loved him and he was too awful to even comfort her when the man who she had chosen as her father passed away. Avery, the one to blame? The idea was becoming more and more ridiculous to him. He almost felt sorry for the long sessions of mentally attacking Keiran when, after more consideration, Robin was now a little less sure about his blame.

Ignoring the unfamiliar twisting in his stomach, Robin walked down the stairs empty-handed, pausing at the entryway to the livingroom where he could see Avery on the couch, book in hand. There was still a discomfort in the air but it felt different from the Hayes’ guest room had. This was their home, Robin’s lack of response had made him in the wrong, and she loved him. Swallowing, he walked forward until he stood at a diagonal from her. They were close enough that if he reached out he could have touched her and for an insane second he wanted to do just that. Instead, he spoke. “Hey, can we talk?”

So horribly formal and with such a bad reputation, countless other couples had heard that phrase and it almost never ended well. Robin immediately regretted his choice of words but wasn’t sure what other way there would have been to phrase it. There was a definite discomfort between the pair that had never been there before, even as they were just getting to know each other. But it had been easier back then when there were no laws, wedding rings, or strange butterflies manifesting themselves in his innards. The months felt like an eternity ago and back then she had just been a beautiful girl who could handle a drink. Now?

((OOC: I’m leaving it here just because I lost everything so I had to re-type and it took awhile. I figured this would be a reasonable place to see Avery’s reaction and then I can have Robin talk. If you don’t want to reply I can edit in the rest later.))

His shadow fell over the page she was attempting to read, Avery's grip on the book faltering in her effort to avoid looking up at him. He was far too close, and she was already having enough trouble reading the first sentence; she had tried multiple times to understand it, but Avery was far too anxious.

But it wasn't just her being nervous about what he might do or say. No, indeed, she could feel anger bubbling up inside her again as he looked down at her. Avery told herself that she didn't know why she was upset again, but that was a total lie. She definitely knew why, and if her husband didn't know, too, she doubted she could get the words out to explain this time.

It wasn't just their fight and that she was aware of how badly she had messed up. No, it was that her attempts at explanation and even potential reconciliation had been spurned due to Robin's apparent desire to sleep instead. Now he was hovering over her, seeming almost expectant. What was she supposed to say? Sorry? Avery wasn't sure the word had actually managed to leave her mouth, now that she thought about it.

She had almost convinced herself to allow the word to escape her lips when he spoke. Her head snapped up, eyes flashing to his as she dropped the book into her lap. Merlin, but she probably looked a mess. They needed to talk? To the average person, it was just a start to a conversation. But to someone like Avery, who had seen people time and again get rejected or even dumped that way?

Avery blushed, fumbling for her book as an excuse to look somewhere else. She was sure that Robin had been given enough time to see the fear flash across her face before she could tear her eyes away. Although Avery had expected this, the understanding that he did, in fact, expect her to leave made her chest ache and her heart drop into her stomach. She found that looking at him again was impossible during her attempt to keep calm. There was little chance that she would cry, this time, though; after the fight and Aiden's death, Avery was essentially cried out. But that certainly didn't mean that she was okay with this.

He had to have seen her note by now, Avery mused. And yet he still couldn't forgive her or accept what she had done or told him? She couldn't bring herself to even blame him for it. Her story and attempts at explaining had been both unfortunate and hard to get past. She knew that, obviously. To make things even more frustrating, he was the only person in the world who knew the truth - the whole truth - and he wanted none of it. Of her. At least she had tried to explain it once. To see if it went over badly. In the end, she was proven right. The whole backstory thing wasn't something she should tell others. They wouldn't accept it. Or her.

Avery knew, though that it wasn't even that she needed him to accept her flaws. Rather, it was more than Avery had so desperately wanted (and needed) him to want her. She could understand why Robin wouldn't, or couldn't, of course. But she found herself wishing she had known this earlier.

Hadn't she, though?

Of course she had. She had always expected him to find out or get tired of putting up with her. She'd known something like this would happen. The past always comes back to haunt you. History is doomed to repeat itself, Avery reminded herself, passing through all manner of clichés in her head as if they would make any of this more comfortable. As if they could ease the rejection. But it didn't matter, she knew, because it was all bound to happen again.

She just didn't expect to have fallen for him first.

Now, she was second-guessing every word, gesture, and letter he had given her. Every look sent her direction. Every time. When had she let herself become another name on his list? It was all so wrong. To make it even worse, she wasn't sure she even regretted it. The situation in itself was confusing and broken. Their past didn't include his choosing her. Didn't include his asking her out on dates or proposing. Their wedding was anything but normal. She couldn't even remember exactly how it had started, except that it involved Keiran. And now she had brought things full circle by involving him again, in the worst way. (Well, not the worst way, but damn close. Close enough to make Robin furious).

Even this mental rambling couldn't keep Avery from remembering Robin's words as he attacked Keiran. This isn't some bet. A bet? The words had fallen out without her thinking, but while Keiran looked guilty, Robin had never replied. She had nearly walked up to Robin in that moment and whacked him, but Keiran had been bleeding and she had been too afraid. If Robin didn't think to explain it, Avery hoped he realized she would go ask Keiran. The older man knew her anger well. He wasn't likely to keep the truth from her, even if it hurt her.

By the time she realized she had failed to respond, Avery felt like there was little he could say that she didn't expect. He didn't want her there. He did, in fact, think she was mental. And she was, apparently, one of the people on his list, and those times were nothing special. His words had to come out eventually, so there was no point in running away. Unable to get the word out, Avery nodded silently as she stared at the book where it rested on her knees.

She dropped the book to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest to un-tuck her feet from their spot beneath her. There was plenty of room on the couch if he chose to sit; she only took up perhaps one of the cushions at most, closed off as she was. Rather than looking to see what he wanted, Avery stared at the fabric of the couch, leaning her shoulder against the back.

Avery nodded and Robin sat on the couch, about halfway between her and the opposite end. Again, he felt the urge to reach out and grab her hand like he had so many times while they watched movies or read together in this very spot. Now there was an unspoken wall in Avery's gaze and a physical distance and awkwardness between them that was quite unfamiliar to Robin. So instead he tried to give her a smile but it came out as more of a tortured grimace as he felt further waves of guilt washing over him at her expression. Robin took a breath before speaking, as if preparing for a great speech or settling his nerves.

"I've thought very long and carefully about what I want to say.. I wasn't prepared for what you said last night but that's my fault and I know I need to apologize for how I responded." You didn't do anything. Robin's brain chimed in helpfully. You lay there like a slug. He knew that his words sounded highly rehearsed but supposed that was fair considering they were just that. But just because they were prepared didn't mean they weren't genuine - it had simply taken Robin longer than most to put his thoughts into legible sentences. If their fight had proved anything it was that, when emotional, he had a tendency to be misinterpreted or say something he didn't quite mean. The young man wasn't willing to make those same mistakes again, especially when everything was already so fragile.  

"Having someone like you is new for me and the last couple of days I've been a right awful husband. I know I need to talk to you about things that are going to effect our lives but I've never had someone that involved before and it's just taking a little time to get used to. I never meant to hide inviting Della over and I can promise you I did it as a friend and only a friend." Robin nodded slightly, his speech slowly slipping out of it's formality and into a more normal cadence. "I know I've got more of a.. past.. than you do but I can't bear to have that come between us. It's the past. I'm willing to tell you anything you want to know about me - no secrets.

"There's some stuff that I'm less proud of, sure. But I not going to hide it from you because I want you to know even the worst parts of the man you married. Just like I want you to tell me yours. You're my family now Avery, and I really meant it that I want us to trust each other." Robin finally gave in and reached over to take Avery's hand gently in his own.

"Last night.. It explained some things. I wish you'd told me sooner but it was brave of you tell me at all. I'm not going to pretend to know your family or what you went through but I can assure you that the Ivanovs specialize in shitty families too. I was practically raised by maids, I watched my father go through wives and mistresses like they were the latest fashion, and most family dinners were for guest's benefit. I'm lucky - my father favored me. Still does, in fact. But I understand the complex relationship between siblings more than you'll ever know." Robin's mind flashed to Misha, knowing the older brother had been the Avery in this tale where Robin was Claire.

Robin had trailed off slightly and paused for a moment, regaining his thoughts and remembering what exactly he had wanted to say.

"Nothing you said or did makes you a terrible sister. Fights and misunderstandings happen, even with the people we love the most." At some point Robin had released her hand but he still spoke evenly and clearly, following the script in his head as he stared across at his wife. "You keep blaming all this on yourself but it's half my fault too. I'm the one who was too blinded to notice you were uncomfortable at the wedding, I was the one who pushed things in Greece, and I'm the idiot who can't think of the right things to say now. I don't have an excuse for why I'm so stupid when it comes to us, but all I know is this is a first.

"You know, of course, that your sister and I dated in school. It wasn't very long, maybe a little over a year. But the night before graduation I.. well, I proposed. It doesn't make sense now but it did then and at the time I was absolutely sure that I would never find anyone else who made me feel like Claire did." Robin looked down at the book Avery was holding, studying the cover and suddenly avoiding the blonde's eyes. "When she said no it didn't feel real, you know? I didn't expect, um.. I became pretty lost. I guess that was about the time that my list started." Robin raised his eyebrows at his own foolishness. He already was wondering why he had strayed into this story but knew it was too late to back off now.

"It stopped being about her a long time ago. She's just been an idea floating around in my head, reminding me that the one person who I ever thought loved me, didn't really want me. I think for a long time I jumped around because I'd rather be the one doing the leaving than have to worry about getting left first." He was definitely off-script now, bordering on the dangerous babbling territory that tended to get him into trouble. He looked up and refocused on his wife. "Then I met you and for the first time in a long, long time I stopped being so scared. You're special, Avery. In the last couple of months you've made me happier than I can ever remember. You might push people away but I'm terrified of being left. So maybe we can cancel each other out and just stay right here because I couldn't possibly bear to let you go.

"I'll be more than willing to do whatever I can to help with your past if you're willing to promise that we get a future together."

Robin fell silent, his gaze still lingering with hers. It was very possible she would get up and walk away. Or maybe just hit him. But there was a definite chance that he had ruined everything.

Listening was harder than Avery had expected. His voice was soothing in a way she hadn't expected, and she could feel herself relaxing into the couch. At least until he picked up her hand, anyway. He didn't want to frighten her, she knew, so pulling away wasn't an option. He dropped her hand back onto her leg before responding, finally, to her admissions the night before - the only problem being that she didn't want him to talk like that.

Avery felt almost crazy, but she had wanted him to agree with her. Now it made everything she had done to Keiran and his family less sensible and more cruel. Bridget was wrong, Avery wasn't meant to be part of their family. As if Robin could feel her pulling away again, he started blaming himself instead of her.

She turned her head to frown at him, but then he started talking about loving Claire and it surprised her too much. All she could do was stare at him as he looked down at her book. Oh, that stupid list. Avery half wanted to have him write it all out just so she could burn the parchment and be done with it. But did she really want to see them all? Could he remember them all?

That wasn't fair. Avery stopped that train of thought and instead laced her fingers together to keep them from fiddling with her shirt hem.

You're special. Her eyes flew to his. That definitely wasn't what she had been expecting. No, she was anticipating more of a 'you should move out' mentality. What he was saying made no sense. Merlin, she wanted it to, though. How could he go on telling her such things when she knew it couldn't be right?

The first thing she thought to do was to lash out. You didn't seem terrified when I left the other night. You practically sent me out the door, yourself.

But that wouldn't fix anything, and wasn't technically true. Her heart told her to scoot down the couch and just curl into him, because he was telling the truth. The only problem with that was that Avery's mind always won out. If he hadn't mentioned their being a family, she was fairly sure she would have just walked away. That word had dug its  way into her and she couldn't pry it out, no matter how desperately she tried.

Instead of doing either of those things, she blinked - twice, hard - before turning to take in his expression. He seemed genuine, and that almost scared her more than his words. He thought she was brave? That her past couldn't be as bad as his? But he had heard it all and couldn't truly think that. Not anymore. Avery disliked many things in her world, but the worst were liars and people who tried to downplay her faults.

Clearing her throat quietly, Avery shifted so her feet touched the floor and she faced the wall instead of her husband. Getting the words out would be hard enough without his eyes staring back at her and reading her. "I want to make sense of what you're saying, and - and just log it away and accept it. But either you misunderstood me or you just don't know me at all." Shaking her head, Avery snatched up her book and stood, pulling the paperback to her chest and clutching it with both hands. "You talk like I didn't go along with anything in Greece, and that the fight was even partly your fault. I hate people taking my blame." Her eyes finally snapped back to his, annoyance probably shining through. "You can't act like what I caused can't be pinned on me. That's like taking away the reason and just leaving a fight, or Kieran and Millie's row, or my leaving. It loses all meaning and makes it seem like I'm this great person and like these things just happened. And that's complete rubbish."

Pacing wasn't something she normally did, but the circumstances seemed to call for it. "I'm obviously not the person you thought I was and you claiming that any of this wasn't on me is like taking away the parts I just showed you and shoving me back into that stupid little box of false confidence and assuredness. I'm not okay with that."

She shook her head as it to emphasize the point before making a sound somewhere between a groan and a huff and dropping the book onto the table between her and Robin. In a motion very unlike her, Avery let her hands settle angrily on her hips as she frowned at him; she wasn't quite angry enough for a glare, yet.

"I don't know who you think I am, and I don't know if you think you care about that person, but that's not really me. Sometimes it can be, but around someone who knows? Clearly I'm not the same." The realization that she was starting a fight all over again hit her too late, and her hands fell to her sides. A moment of quiet took over before she hung her head and turned away. "You see? This.. This is what causes everything. This is what makes people leave me. This is why you shouldn't be telling me to stay, but making me leave."

Avery stood and moved away, leaving Robin with a sinking feeling in his stomach as his fears were realized. He listened to her arguments and for the first time since their fight he felt the slightest twinge of annoyance at her. She claimed he didn't understand her but it was clear that she was the one not understanding him. Robin sat forward on the sofa, fighting the urge to walk over to where she stood. With every attempt to keep his head on his shoulders he heard her out completely before opening his mouth again, restraining his frustrations.

"What don't I understand?" He questioned without expecting her to reply. "I know you're not perfect and I'm not ignoring anything that you've said. And to be honest I'm not quite over what happened yet." Robin shrugged, consciously keeping his tone level and calm in an effort to avoid another fight. "Just because I'm willing to take responsibility for what is partially my fault doesn't mean I'm excusing you. Going out with Keiran was wrong and I'm still royally pissed about it but you mean more to me than one kiss can take away." Robin had to slow his brain down slightly as his volume and page threatened to increase.

"You don't have to be perfect to be a great person. If I say you're wonderful I mean everything about you, from your best to your worst bits." Robin stood and moved around the coffee table, much closer to where she stood. I don't know who you think I am. He looked directly at his wife and gave her the softest of smiles. "I think you're Avery." Robin shrugged again, keeping their eyes locked. "I wouldn't try to pretend that the bad stuff doesn't happen because it's part of you. But it's part of me too and things aren't always going to be sunshine and rainbows for us.

"When you love someone you love all of them. And yes, we've had better days but even now I don't think I care about you, I know I do. I wouldn't change you for the world, Mrs. Ivanov." The name lingered in the air in place of the 'I love you' that was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn't quite bring himself to say. Without another word Robin moved past her and made his way upstairs to their room, plagued with the knowledge that there was going to be another night of sleeping alone.