Page 76
Story: Dagger
But what it did instead was make himache.
Because he wanted to be their father. Not a ghost in the margins. Not a stopgap protector. Not a placeholder.
He wanted to be in it. All the way in. With them. With her. Not as a stand-in. Not as a shadow. As a father. As a partner. As a man who showed the hell up.
Tex had said it once.It’s not about perfection, it’s about presence. Showing up. Staying in the fight, even when you don’t know if you’re winning.
Damn if that didn’t hit now, harder than any op ever had.
Because that’s what he wanted for Quinn, for the boys. To show up. To be the one who stayed.
No more distance. No more pretending his heart wasn’t already tethered to theirs.
Fuck it.He slammed his vest down on the steel table, the sound sharp enough to echo.
Brawler looked up from across the room. “That vest piss you off, or are you just having a moment?”
Dagger rolled his shoulders, barely looking up. “Brian.”
That got the attention of everyone else. Eyes flicked up from weapons, gear, tools.
“Yeah?” Brawler prompted, stepping closer.
Dagger stared at the vest for a beat, then dragged a hand through his sweat-damp hair.
“He’s still in her head,” he muttered. “Still in the goddamn way.”
Bondo straightened from the wall. Easy cocked his head. Shark exchanged a glance with Flash. The room tightened, nothing overt, just that subtleshiftthat happened when one of their own started unraveling in the quiet.
“She hugged me,” Dagger said, jaw flexing. “After the call. Held on like she didn’t want to let go. Like shefeltit. Us. Everything. But she’s still holding back. I’m sick of it.”
Brawler leaned on the table, voice calm. “You’re not mad at her. You’re mad that Brian’s ghost still has a seat at her table.”
Dagger looked up then, eyes sharp. “I’m mad that he always made her feel like she had to shrink. Like she wasn’t good enough unless he said so. I watched himclip her wingsevery time she tried to fly.”
“She loved him,” Easy said gently.
“Did she?” Dagger’s voice cracked a little, low, bitter. “Or did she just not know there was better?”
A long silence followed that.
“Maybe she did,” Flash said. “But she’s not ready to say it out loud yet.”
“She doesn’t have to say it. I see it.” Dagger paced a step, his blood starting to hum. “Every time she looks at me and then looks away. Every time she tries to pretend what’s between us isn’t real. She’s changing. It’s in her bones now. But she’s still scared to take the last step.”
“Then maybeyouneed to take it,” Twister offered. “If she’s afraid, then you meet her where she is. Don’t make her do all the heavy lifting.”
“She never talks about him,” Dagger muttered. “Never once. Not really. Like saying his name might break the illusion. It’s killing me. Because I can’t give her everything if she’s still tethered to a ghost.”
“You want her to pick you?” Brawler asked softly.
“I want her to pickherself,” Dagger snapped, the words hitting harder than he intended.
Then softer, the fight leaking out of him— “But yeah… I want her to pick me too.” He rubbed a hand down his face, breath catching in his throat. “God help me, I want that more than anything.”
Saying it aloud made it worse, more real. Because now it wasn’t just a thought buried in his chest. It was out there. Laid bare.
There was no taking it back.
Because he wanted to be their father. Not a ghost in the margins. Not a stopgap protector. Not a placeholder.
He wanted to be in it. All the way in. With them. With her. Not as a stand-in. Not as a shadow. As a father. As a partner. As a man who showed the hell up.
Tex had said it once.It’s not about perfection, it’s about presence. Showing up. Staying in the fight, even when you don’t know if you’re winning.
Damn if that didn’t hit now, harder than any op ever had.
Because that’s what he wanted for Quinn, for the boys. To show up. To be the one who stayed.
No more distance. No more pretending his heart wasn’t already tethered to theirs.
Fuck it.He slammed his vest down on the steel table, the sound sharp enough to echo.
Brawler looked up from across the room. “That vest piss you off, or are you just having a moment?”
Dagger rolled his shoulders, barely looking up. “Brian.”
That got the attention of everyone else. Eyes flicked up from weapons, gear, tools.
“Yeah?” Brawler prompted, stepping closer.
Dagger stared at the vest for a beat, then dragged a hand through his sweat-damp hair.
“He’s still in her head,” he muttered. “Still in the goddamn way.”
Bondo straightened from the wall. Easy cocked his head. Shark exchanged a glance with Flash. The room tightened, nothing overt, just that subtleshiftthat happened when one of their own started unraveling in the quiet.
“She hugged me,” Dagger said, jaw flexing. “After the call. Held on like she didn’t want to let go. Like shefeltit. Us. Everything. But she’s still holding back. I’m sick of it.”
Brawler leaned on the table, voice calm. “You’re not mad at her. You’re mad that Brian’s ghost still has a seat at her table.”
Dagger looked up then, eyes sharp. “I’m mad that he always made her feel like she had to shrink. Like she wasn’t good enough unless he said so. I watched himclip her wingsevery time she tried to fly.”
“She loved him,” Easy said gently.
“Did she?” Dagger’s voice cracked a little, low, bitter. “Or did she just not know there was better?”
A long silence followed that.
“Maybe she did,” Flash said. “But she’s not ready to say it out loud yet.”
“She doesn’t have to say it. I see it.” Dagger paced a step, his blood starting to hum. “Every time she looks at me and then looks away. Every time she tries to pretend what’s between us isn’t real. She’s changing. It’s in her bones now. But she’s still scared to take the last step.”
“Then maybeyouneed to take it,” Twister offered. “If she’s afraid, then you meet her where she is. Don’t make her do all the heavy lifting.”
“She never talks about him,” Dagger muttered. “Never once. Not really. Like saying his name might break the illusion. It’s killing me. Because I can’t give her everything if she’s still tethered to a ghost.”
“You want her to pick you?” Brawler asked softly.
“I want her to pickherself,” Dagger snapped, the words hitting harder than he intended.
Then softer, the fight leaking out of him— “But yeah… I want her to pick me too.” He rubbed a hand down his face, breath catching in his throat. “God help me, I want that more than anything.”
Saying it aloud made it worse, more real. Because now it wasn’t just a thought buried in his chest. It was out there. Laid bare.
There was no taking it back.
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