Over the next week, the distance between us just grew greater. James refused to speak to me. I regretted the way I had told him, but there was no taking it back, and no matter how much I begged at our bedroom door for him to speak to me, no matter how many times I tried to feed him and take care of him, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. He was so cold it sent shivers down my spine just to be around him, and after a few days of it, I had given up. I let him take care of himself, and when he came out to get his own food, I didn't look at him or try to speak to him. I let him have his space. Either he'd come back to me, or he wouldn't, but he was still paying me to take care of him. I took up residence on the couch.

I had seen Cal Henderson's most recent campaign speech, of course I had, and it hadn't taken any amount of genius to figure out that the family he was speaking about was James. I knew what had happened. The day I'd gone out, the day after we'd had sex, James had been faced with Cal taunting him, and I'd been out getting drunk. Then I'd come home to babble drunkenly about the condom breaking, and, well... basically, I'd fucked up the best thing that had happened to me since Julia. It seemed like I was just doomed to destroy any half-decent relationship I started to get into.

I was miserable. I felt terrible, but even though I was the one who was hard-of-hearing, it seemed like whenever I tried to talk to him, the words fell on deaf ears. James had shut me out. He didn't trust me anymore, just as I had feared.

And yet, I couldn't help but notice that he hadn't kicked me out of the house. He could have. I would have done my best to keep him safe from a distance. Or he could have fired me anyway, and I was too moral to force my presence on him if he truly didn't want it. But he did none of that. I was being punished, yes, but some part of him still wanted me around, and so I stayed. There was nothing else to do.

It was lonely, though. I needed some company, at the very least someone to talk to. So when I realized it had literally been a week since James had been willing to speak to me, I called Stefan.

"Hey, would you mind bringing Tommy over?" I could use the kid's smile, his playful and innocent nature, to bring me back to life. Remind me why I was there, and that no matter what happened, I had a reason to keep hoping. Tommy might not be my blood, but he was my nephew, I was his godfather, and since I had no idea whether I was going to be a father to my own child, it seemed like I could at least focus my energy on a little boy who did need me around.

"I'm sorry," Stefan said. "Julia has him today. I'll tell you what though, I'll come over. I'll bring beer."

Disappointment and a little bit of bitterness passed through me. I was definitely jealous of the relationship Julia had with Tommy. Part of me wanted him all to myself, like when we'd broken up, I should get all the godparent custody, or something. Of course, that wasn't the case. Despite our failed relationship, I was still Stefan's best friend and Julia was still Tyler's. Neither of them would let us take out our issues on Tommy. So I would just have to wait my turn to hang out with my nephew, and take Stefan's offer of company and, I had to be honest with myself, pity. I was in no place to turn it down.

"Sure," I agreed. "Thanks. That would be good. But...maybe no beer."

The image of me making a fool out of myself was still burned in my mind. The disgust on James' face, the way he'd shrunk away from my drunken kiss, how he'd been almost afraid of me, after I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't scare him ever again... it didn't say good things about my ability to handle liquor. So maybe it was best I just not. Maybe instead of trauma group, I should be attending AA. I was at risk of getting kicked out of John's group again anyway, after missing more sessions. I just couldn't bring myself to leave the house, in case James changed his mind, and that day was the day he decided to talk to me again. I had to be there, like I hadn't been when he had really needed me. I was determined not to keep repeating these mistakes. It seemed almost impossible. It seemed like fucking things up was just in my nature.

"No beer?" Stefan seemed even more concerned. "Okay. Pizza and Star Wars?" he suggested instead and I sighed in relief. At least Stefan understood. After some transformations of his own, I could count on my friend to support me in whatever was healthiest for me at the time.

"Yeah, that sounds great. Thanks, man. I'm gonna take a shower, but...just knock when you get here."

"See ya then," he assured me.

I hadn't showered in the last week, I realized. I had been so lost in my sorrow and what was the point? James wanted nothing to do with me and I wasn't going out of the house... but I owed it to Stefan not to stink him out of the house, at least as much as possible. He might be used to it, from our time in the barracks, but there was no need for inducing war flashbacks in my poor best friend.

I almost chuckled to myself in the shower. Almost. And then I remembered that James still hadn't said a word, he had gone mute for a full seven days, and the lump in my throat was right there again, threatening to spill over into emotion I couldn't contain or understand in myself. I'd never been good at the more touchy-feely shit. Call me to move some furniture, to bring out the big guns, to put down a six pack and a forty ounce, sure. But I was lucky Stefan was putting up with even as much of a downer as I had been lately, because I didn't put up with it much from him. I just wasn't equipped.

I left the shower and got dressed, and James tolerated my presence in the bedroom. He was wrapped up in the blankets on his side, facing away from me, staring down at his phone, headphones in. He refused to even roll over to look at me. The tension in the room was so thick it seemed to suffocate me. I tugged on my boxer briefs and then took the rest of my clothes out to the living room to get dressed. The silence was unbearable. My ears rung painfully. I sat down on the couch halfway through putting on my jeans and tried not to let myself cry.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to put on the rest of my clothes, and then began to clean up the area around the couch, folding up my blankets, moving my pillow, tidying the garbage and empty bottles and cans that had collected like a nest around me.

I was antsy. Killing time. Trying not to look like I'd been as depressed as I had, trying not to show Stefan just how bad things had been, even though he'd figure it out, anyway.

I was relieved when I heard Stefan's knock. He showed up with a hot pizza and I couldn't help but give him a tight hug. He seemed surprised, but after a week without any human contact, I needed it. He patted my back hard.

"Hey, c'mon. It's gonna be okay. Let's go sit down."

He pulled me into the living room and put the pizza on the coffee table.

"Hey, look. You showered, the place is clean. You're not doing too bad. You've gotta stop beating yourself up, buddy."

I laughed softly, and he frowned, looking into my eyes.

"It's been bad, hasn't it?"

I shrugged and shook my head.

"Let's not," I said, brushing him off. I couldn't. I couldn't talk about it yet, not with him, and he seemed to understand, because he put on A New Hope and opened the box of pizza and for a whole two hours, he didn't ask me any questions. He let me relax, and just having my best friend around made everything better. It might still be quiet, but I wasn't alone. It wasn't the deep, cold sort of silence that had settled over the apartment after I'd fucked things up with James. It was a comfortable, warm silence built on years and years of friendship. Without words, he told me things were going to be okay. It was all I'd needed, really.

Finally, as he put on the second movie, he glanced at me with a raised eyebrow, a question in his kind blue eyes.

I decided to answer it.

"He hasn't spoken to me all week," I whispered, trying to speak low enough that I could still hear myself, but James wouldn't hear me over the TV.

Sensing that, Stefan turned the TV up, even though he'd already put the captions on for me by habit.

I smiled a little and relaxed, speaking in a hushed tone, but more calmly. "I was so drunk when I came home... I told him everything. Too much. He got angry, and I've been sleeping on the couch ever since. He won't..." I tried to swallow around the lump in my throat, and Stefan reached out and squeezed my shoulder.

"Ben, it's the only power he has. He's an omega. He can't fight you. He probably loves you just as much as you love him. The silent treatment... it's the only thing he knows."

I shrugged. "I know. That doesn't make it hurt any less. I know I deserve it. That's the worst part."

He nodded.

"Listen, give him a few more days to process. This is huge. If he's pregnant, it'll take three months. Just give him a few more days."

I sighed and took the last slice of pizza without asking. He didn't say a word about it. This was how I knew we were best friends.

"I'll give him as many days as he needs. He can refuse to talk to me for three months and eighteen years, for all I care. I'm not leaving. I just..."

"You love him," Stefan said softly. "He'll see that eventually. Eventually that will matter more than anything else."

I tried to trust Stefan on that. He knew better than I, as a married man.

"Well, that's it, I guess. Can we talk about something else?"

Stefan obliged, giving me a conspiratorial grin. "Sure. Hey, can you keep a secret? We're not supposed to tell anyone yet. Julia doesn't know."

"Oh, yeah, 'cause you know I gossip to Julia all the time."

He chuckled. "Just... act surprised when Tyler tells you, but we're in the process of trying to adopt. There were a lot of children orphaned by the attack and Tyler and I talked about it. Things have been so great with Tommy, so... we're going to try to give another kid a good home."

If Stefan had told me that Tyler was pregnant again, I wouldn't have been surprised at all. But it hadn't even occurred to me that they might try to adopt. I felt stupid for that. It made complete sense.

"Stef, that's great, but...Will they let you? After everything with Tyler?"

Stefan nodded, inhaling sharply. "Well... that's the hope. The charges were dropped, so we're just hoping our caseworker sees the intention behind it, and not the scandal attached to his name, you know? I mean, it helps that half the city considers him a hero, and pretty much everyone thinks I'm one."

I nodded, smirking a little.

"It did make a pretty great splash on the front page, you holding a newborn to your chest while you saved that mother and her child."

He shook his head. "I'm honestly not even sure how I did it. Adrenaline, I guess. I ran, you know that? I haven't been able to run since, but I ran."

"Imagine Tommy's face when he's old enough for you to tell him that story," I laughed, and I realized I was actually smiling for the first time in weeks. Stefan had managed to change the subject enough to lighten even my terrible mood. The dark rain cloud was still there, maybe, hanging above my head, but it felt like the downpour of emotion had lightened to a drizzle.

"I have," he promised me. "Like a million times. And I keep picturing what our second child will look like, what they'll be like, if they'll like me... if we manage it, that is. It's no guaranteed thing, and that's why it's a secret. Tyler doesn't want me to get my hopes up, but..."

"But of course they're sky high," I agreed. "That's pretty amazing, man. I hope you guys can do it. You're great parents."

"If we manage it, we'll have to move. Probably out of the city. We've been looking at houses in the suburbs."

That thought probably should have occurred to me before, Stefan and Tyler only had a two-bedroom condo, but it hadn't.

"Wow, yeah, I guess that's true." I shook my head. "Everything's changing. It's hard to picture what things will be like a year from now."

"Better, hopefully," Stefan said, and even though he couldn't possibly guarantee that, there was a promise and a certainty in his deep voice that was extremely comforting to me.

"Hopefully. Or else I'll just be totally alone."

He snorted. "I doubt it. You can't handle being alone. You'd move in with us, I bet."

My eyes widened.

"You guys would let me move in with you?" That was a huge offer, even from Stefan, who was generous with his last dime. This time last year, I'd been helping him move out of his shitty motel room, and now he was telling me I might get to be the live-in uncle in his suburban dreamhouse.

"Yeah, totally. You can be Uncle Jesse," he joked, but he didn't seem like he was really joking. "If things don't work out here, you know? Otherwise I hope you'll be happy with James. But I'll always be your back-up plan, you know that, don't you? Till the day we die, you've got a place on my couch."

I let out a soft sigh of relief, the last bit of tension I hadn't realized I was holding releasing. The pit in my stomach, a lot of it had been uncertainty. Stefan was right. I wasn't good at being alone, and I had left my house full of roommates, where I was practically never alone unless I wanted to be, for this apartment that James was paying for, that he could kick me out of at any moment, and I felt like if I made the right step, he would. Maybe he even should.

If that happened, if things really couldn't work, if James wanted an abortion and to never see me again, I'd move in with Stefan and just focus on being an uncle and getting sober for a little while. Yeah. I'd survive. My heart would be broken for a long time, much longer than I was ready for, but I'd survive. That was all I really needed to regain hope. I was a soldier. As long as there was some light at the end of the tunnel, some escape route I could see, I wouldn't stop fighting.

When the second movie ended, Stefan stood and stretched.

"I gotta head home, man, Tyler's gonna get pissed if I stay much later." He gave me another quick hug, and I saw him off, feeling somehow more confident in myself. Now if I could only figure out a way to keep Cal Henderson from ever becoming mayor, and get James to start talking to me again, all my problems would be solved.

Deep down, though, something quietly screamed to be acknowledged. I had realized, in all of this, that I'd been wrong about myself.

I really wanted to be a father.

Later that night, nearing midnight, I was just drifting off to sleep when someone knocked on the door. I wasn't expecting anyone, so I pulled out my phone and checked the security cameras, surprised and confused to see that it was Tyler. I got up and went to the door, opening it slowly.

"Tyler? What's up? I sent Stefan home hours ago," I mumbled, rubbing at my eyes.

He gave me a little smirk, like he wasn't completely impressed by me. Well, I'd made some mistakes recently. I probably deserved that.

"I'm not here for you. I'm here to talk to James. Let me in?"

I got the sense I didn't have a choice, so I stepped back. Stefan must have talked to his husband about everything that was going on between me and James. Well, I knew Stefan told Tyler pretty much everything, and honestly, if I couldn't get through to James, maybe another omega could. He and Tyler had formed a sort of bond.

"He's in the bedroom," I said, "but I'm not sure if he's sleeping or not. He hasn't come out in a few hours."

"Just stay out of the way," he said, with a tone that implied he was trying to be gentle despite his annoyance. I nodded sleepily and went to collapse on the couch again. Whatever he could do to help James was more than I'd managed.

Maybe he'd even manage to convince James to keep our baby.