A/N: so uh. hi. i'm back. sorry bout that y'all, have this chapter now.
It's been 5 years since then, and Keefe is 23 now. He's functioning on his own, has an apartment all to himself, doing well in life.
And yet.
And yet, sometimes, he rolls over in the middle of the night and wakes himself up by landing with his face on his right hand, still strange after all these years. He has to get up when this happens, unable to go back to sleep with the memories spinning through his mind, has to go into the bathroom and shut the door carefully and turn the light on and stare into the mirror and remember.
Remember how it happened.
How Tam grabbed the back of his shirt and begged him to reconsider.
How Keefe kicked and pleaded and begged to be let go. How Tam managed to turn Keefe around so he was facing up again.
How Tam gave in, whispering the three words that changed Keefe's life forever.
How Tam jumped with him.
How Keefe wrapped himself around Tam as they fell.
How sky flashed in place of ground and vice versa.
How Tam twisted around so he was below Keefe, so he could hit the ground first.
How, when they were seconds from the ground, Tam pushed Keefe away.
How Tam wasn't quite fast enough.
How Keefe's fingers crunched against the concrete.
How that sound was drowned out by Tam's entire body crunching.
How Keefe's phone was cracked, but still worked enough to call 911.
How the red and blue lights flashed and the sirens blared.
How Keefe followed Tam, who was on a gurney, into the ambulance.
How Keefe paced in the waiting room, not wanting to tell anyone about his own issues in case it lowered their chances of saving Tam.
How he remembered, over and over again, the last three words Tam might've ever said.
(I love you)
How the others had shown up and tried to comfort Keefe, even as he actively pushed them away.
How Sophie called one of the doctors when she took Keefe's hands in hers and his fingers bent in ways they weren't supposed to.
How Keefe was sent in for surgery and had the pinky finger and tip of the ring finger on his right hand amputated.
How he spent the next two weeks in the waiting room of the hospital, or, when they allowed him to be, in Tam's room with him.
How he only left when Tam's room was emptied and made ready for someone else.
How he went back to their shared apartments, to a place that could never truly be called home without Tam.
How, as soon as-
But he never gets to finish his recollections, as, inevitably, every time he wakes up like this, there's a voice from the bedroom.
"Come back to bed, Keefe," his husband calls sleepily.
Keefe shuts the light off, turning to go back into the bedroom and curling up next to his husband.
"Thinking about that night again?" his husbands asks, as always.
"Yes," Keefe says simply. "And after."
There's silence as they both contemplate that fateful night.
But Keefe's thoughts soon turn from that to his husband. His wonderful, loving husband, who doesn't care about Keefe's missing finger-and-a-half or self-harm scars, just as Keefe doesn't care about his husband's surgery scars scattered across his whole body or prosthetic legs, because he has two of those, both below his knees.
They don't care about the other one's imperfections, because the imperfections make them human. Complete.
Because they went through that night together.
The doctors claim it was because his feet hit the ground before the rest of his body, or that it was Keefe's fingers under him that saved him. Keefe doesn't care either way. He'd gladly give all of his fingers, both hands, if he has to, to save him again.
All Keefe cares about is that his husband is alive. And as far as he's concerned, his husband is a miracle.
"My Miracle," Keefe murmurs, kissing his husband's cheek.
How, as soon as his husband was discharged from the hospital, Keefe proposed.
How his husband agreed instantly.
How they got married in the small church in Keefe's hometown, with only their close friends in attendance.
How his husband wore a sleeveless dress, unafraid to be purely himself, unafraid of people seeing his scars and judging him.
How beautiful Tam looked when Keefe whirled him outside at the reception dinner and kissed him under the moonlight.
"I love you," Keefe mumbles after a second, knowing his husband was waiting for him to speak.
"I love you," his husband echoes back, pulling Keefe tightly into his chest, refusing to say 'too' so he can repeat verbatim the three words said that night that changed Keefe's whole life.
My Miracle, Keefe thinks as he drifts off to sleep, as he does every time this happens. My home.
My Tam.
A/N: yooooo it's done!!! finally!!! anyways if y'all want to read more of my stuff i probably won't be uploading on wattpad anymore, but i'm on ao3.org as "Charlie_Is_Fluid", where i don't write kotlc things anymore but i have done romantic fnaf (august-ish last year), romantic and platonic sanders sides (september to december), and am currently writing platonic cc!dsmp (january to now, two fics every thursday/friday (one request + one of my original ideas)). anyways if you aren't interested in that have a good rest of your life, if you are then have a good rest of your week until i upload again
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Smiling and Dying ~ Kam
FanfictionKeefe was slowly breaking inside. His family hated him. Fitz didn't like him anymore. Sophie had rejected him. Everyone else was cold to him, still not trusting him after the Neverseen fiasco. Tam was the only one who really cared. And some days, Ke...
