Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Conrad could vaguely remember summer. Sure, summer in California was nice, but the idea of summer could never exist outside of the scope of Cousins. His mother's laughter as she prepared cold treats. The waves hitting his face, while his brother was at his back. Laurel's chagrined smile when he said something sarcastic. Belly smiling at him like he was the only guy in the world.

Losing Belly had hurt, losing Jeremiah a little more. But most of all, losing summer had shattered his soul. He would never again experience summer. His mother long gone, his brother having followed, and the rest of the Conklins following suit and losing touch over time.

It started with the awkward, occasional check-ins from Laurel and Steven. Belly and Jere had long since ignored him beyond the obligatory holiday and birthday messages. Until even those dwindled to nothing, as reaching out became more and more of a chore. Like Conrad was nothing more than an annoying relative that had to be placated that the rest of the family remembered his existence.

He wasn't sure if they really did remember his existence at this point. He was nearly as dead as his mother. Mentioned in passing as a nostalgic reminder of a memory long since gone. Conrad wasn't around to make new memories, and he wasn't sure any of them really noticed his absence or even cared about it.

His father wasn't even worth mentioning. Conrad had lost any respect for him when he realized that Adam was little more than a clingy ex-girlfriend who only paid attention when he thought he couldn't get something. Conrad had grown up wanting nothing more than to be like his father and please his father. But his disinterest had done nothing more than spark Adam's sudden discovery of fatherhood when he realized that Conrad no longer vied for his attention. Now it was all “When are you coming down to see the office, Con?” and “We should do a family dinner sometime soon!”

As if he didn't dream of such a thing when he was younger, and he needed his father. That relationship, he was happy to do away with. But realizing that Steven was Jeremiah's friend first now, and Belly was going to sleep next to his brother was a punch to the gut. Things had changed. And they would never be the same.

Summer had passed him by. He could vaguely remember the taste of salt in the air and the taste of sun on his skin.

He was brought out of his musing by Mr. Telamar calling his name. Turning, he wordlessly nodded and smiled slightly to show he was listening.

“Fisher, can you bring the skeleton diorama to the Kochivasovis lab in the basement of Beckman Center?” Mr. Telamar called while bustling around the lab, carrying a concerning number of items. Conrad was vaguely worried for the safety of his Lab Director's eyebrows, which had only recently grown back.

Conrad grabbed the skeleton, calling out as he was leaving, “Yeah, no problem, Mr. Telamar. Do you want me to bring you anything on my way back?”

“No, no, it's late! After you drop it off, you can head on home. You need to get to bed before you end up with as many gray hairs as me!” Mr. Telamar chuckled. Conrad wanted to point out that Mr. Telamar didn't have any gray hair, or hair at all, since he had also burned it off.

He laughed to himself as he grabbed his coat and the rest of his belongings, stored in a small cubby at the edge of the lab. The lab was in a basement with flickering yellow lights that had Conrad vaguely think of a horror movie he had watched that started off the same way as he left.

Conrad pushed the door with his back as he left the building, feeling his face sting as the cold air whirled past him. He dropped off the skeleton and left the other building nearly in a daze. The anniversary of his mother's death had him feeling vaguely nauseous.

And he had only heard from Laurel, who had reached out with a nice “How are you doing today, honey?” His brother hadn't sent anything and hadn't replied to Conrad's text. He hadn't heard anything from Belly or Steven, or most egregiously, his own father. He wasn't necessarily surprised, but the sting of disappointment was almost as sharp as the April ice-cold wind against his face.

He brushed away the thought that he was mourning his mother's death much like he had mourned her life — alone. Conrad opened up his bag to take out his bus pass, realizing belatedly that he had forgotten to bring his wallet that day. Like an idiot, he had seen the nice weather in the morning as a sign to walk to school and get some fresh air to prepare for the day ahead.

But now, it was nearly freezing and walking home would have resulted in the loss of ownership of at least 2 toes. His previous insistence that Uber was a waste of money and that he could keep his car at the summer house for family use had come back to bite him. He was about to start his long trek back to his apartment when he was interrupted by someone waving at him.

“Hey man, are you good?” One of the prettiest girls he had ever seen called from inside her car, with the window cracked down an inch.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Thank you.” he replied stiltedly.

“You look five seconds away from death.” She stated bluntly.

“Listen, I forgot my bus pass, and I need to start on my hike home before I freeze to death and the school has to get an ice pick to get me out of a solid block of ice.”

“Oh shit.” She said.

“So, unless you're about to offer me a ride, I think I should go.” Conrad said with a smile.

“No offence, dude, but I don't really know you.” She admitted. “I'm not interested in ending up on one of those true crime TikToks where some influencer talks about how I was brutally murdered while promoting her current mascara or whatever.”

Conrad let out a sharp bark of laughter that was embarrassing from how unflattering it was.

“I can give you cash for the bus, though.” She continued. “Fare is $3.25, right? I usually bike, but I had to borrow my brother's car to lug my Cello to a performance tonight.”

“Fuck, you're a lifesaver,” Conrad said. “Do I get to know the name of my hero?”

“Jude,” She said while opening the sunroof and dangling half her body out of the open window. “Here.” She grunted while throwing cash at him. Conrad vaguely felt a quarter hit his head while looking at this girl, who had tilted his world upside down.

While Conrad bent down to pick up the bus fare, he responded, “I'm Conrad. Thank you for saving my life, Jude.”

“It'll come back to me.” Jude grinned while getting back into her seat. “Just think, once summer comes, you won't have to rely on the mercy of strangers.”

Conrad smiled and waved as she drove away. He couldn't help but think of his mother, and that summer would never come again.

Chapter Text

Conrad wanted to say that he had gone home and forgotten about the pretty girl with a heart of gold. That he had gone to bed with nothing but absentminded thought about the kindness of her gesture.

But truthfully, Conrad had been able to think of little else after his chance encounter with Jude the night before. As he navigated the library, he suddenly saw a glimpse of red hair. Stuttering to a stop, he turned his head so fast he could faintly hear his neck snap. He berated himself for being a desperate loser — like that had worked out so well the last time.

Conrad was about to turn and walk away from the poor imitation of the girl he couldn’t stop thinking of when he found the real thing right in front of him.

“Conrad?” Jude lightly touched his arm to get his attention as if it could be anywhere else. “What’s got you so distracted?”

“Hey Jude. Were you right here in front of me this whole time?” He asked quietly instead of answering.

“That better not have been a Beatles reference. And you won’t get out of answering that easily. Did the cold end up frying your brain? Which now that I’m saying it, sounds contradictory and doesn't make the most sense.” Jude rambled.

Conrad only laughed in response. “Maybe the cold gave me ice powers, and I’m adjusting. With great power comes great responsibility, you know.”

“Well, pardon me, Elsa.”

“You’re excused.” Conrad’s cheeks had begun to hurt from smiling. “We’ll call it even for the other night.”

“Well, hold on there, bucko!” Jude frowned. “That $3.25 was part of the funds I use to recklessly gamble.”

“Oh wow, at least you don’t responsibly gamble.”

“God forbid, how else would I accumulate more debt from beyond just my school tuition?” Jude tilted her head.

“Well, debt from a variety of places is the sound thing to do,” Conrad solemnly nodded.

“Did you know that 90% of gamblers quit right before they make it big?”

“I do now.” Conrad laughed. “The only reasonable thing to do is to keep going. I’ll make sure to donate some money to your gambling funds after your brave rescue. Dangling halfway out your sunroof.” Conrad trailed off, raising his eyebrows.

“Laugh now, but I’m not risking death just so that the media will report that you were a charismatic Bundy who managed to seduce me into giving you a ride. I pitied you.” She hummed absentmindedly. “Like a kicked puppy.”

Conrad laughed in response. Noting belatedly that he seemed to laugh a lot around her. He could only imagine what she thought of the idiot in front of her who laughed like an ass, thinking self-consciously how he could change to sound more like a reasonable person with an appropriate amount of laughter.

“Alright, alright, you win,” Conrad said, raising his hands in mock defeat. “Were you joking about that gambling addiction, or do I need to stage an intervention?”

“I never joke,” Jude said solemnly. “But I don’t really gamble. Unless it has to do with my brother’s cooking.”

“Tell me about it, my brother —” Conrad cut himself off at the thought of Jere. Happy, sweet, golden-curled Jere, who had responded this morning to his messages from yesterday with a flippant “Doing good bro. Belly and I got each other, don’t worry.”

Conrad knew he sounded like a jealous bastard when he thought about how Jeremiah’s contact always seemed to rub in his new relationship with Belly. Initially, he had been hurt when he discovered that the girl he had confessed his feelings to had gone to kiss his brother right after. But after the fresh sting of betrayal had faded, he was left with the feeling of disgust with them both.

How could Belly go back to his brother after everything they had been through? How could Jere go for a girl that Conrad had been with for half a year? When they were still on speaking terms and Jeremiah had been sleeping with half of Cousins, a girl that Jeremiah had ‘gone out’ with a few times had approached him at a party.

She was pretty in a generic sort of way, but she could have been America’s number one model, and he wouldn’t have come close to her with a ten-foot pole after knowing she and Jeremiah had done a lot of ‘getting to know each other’ in Tracy Marcinko’s parents’ bedroom.

He had been disgusted that she would even approach him in the first place. Like he and Jere were interchangeable. That she had seen Jeremiah with Marcus and gone to him instead, like he was a good backup option when she couldn’t have the brother she really wanted.

But he truly couldn’t imagine being with her, knowing Jeremiah had been with her too. It set off alarms of being vaguely incestuous to want two brothers, or to want to be with someone your brother had been with. Which made it all the worse when it was Belly.

Summer in Cousins Belly. His mother’s girl Belly. Sour Patch Kids, singing along to musicals, always a romantic Belly. Conrad is minutely grateful that, for a moment, the disgust overtook the heartbreak when she chose his brother instead of him.

“Hey, you okay?” He was brought out of his thoughts as a pale hand waved in front of his face.

What could he tell her? That his brother, his only family, had left him behind. That he was so out of his depth. That he had panic attacks between classes and labs. That he had nothing and no one, and everyone who had once promised to care for him had left him completely alone.

“Yeah, I’m good,” Conrad said instead. “I just don’t have the best relationship with my brother. A lot of family drama, you know?”

“Well, I’m not you, so I don’t know.” Jude pursed her lips. “But that sucks.”

Her blunt answer made him let out a brisk laugh. Most people were either nosey or uninterested when he had previously tried to open up, no one had ever just got it, like he could tell she did from the way she was looking up at him. After cursing himself for laughing again, he smiled at her, chagrined.

“It does suck,” Conrad responded.

Before he could say anything else, an alarm sounded from Jude’s bag, that had a nearly frightening number of charms and doodads.

“Ah, damn, I have practice.” Jude sighed.

“No worries, that cello won’t practice itself, right?”

Jude smiled softly, like she was touched that he remembered a detail about her in the first place. “Well, I guess we can continue this next time. Give me your number, unless you prefer to be reached via pigeon carrier.”

“Fire signal actually.” Conrad grinned while he passed her his phone so she could put in her number.

“Well, when you hear the fire alarm go off, you’ll know I want to hang out.” She smiled back up at him. “Later, Elsa!”

Conrad stood in the library, frozen to the spot for a solid 5 minutes before the smile melted off his face and he remembered he also had class.

Chapter Text

Conrad had become a master at coming up with excuses to hang out with Jude by the first month of knowing her. By the second, he didn’t need an excuse before she managed to invite herself everywhere.

It didn’t feel like a coincidence that the snow had melted away, the sun shining, and the flowers blooming. They had gone to the library, his house, various bar nights, and even a trip to the aquarium involving gummies, where Jude had to be persuaded not to jump into a large, open tank of stingrays, who she insisted were her soul-friends.

Conrad knew she was his best friend far beyond that point. But he only realized that Jude was the only person he could call family on the second anniversary of Susannah’s death, a year after they had initially met.

By that point, Jude had become more relaxed around him. Not afraid to say whatever was on her mind. And not afraid to sit quietly, saying nothing. He had seen her completely, just as she seemed to see him.

After a day of rain, a layer of dew covered the earth with cars driving by in blurs on the busy road that permeated the stench of gasoline exhaust. Conrad vaguely regretted suggesting a walk after the rain had finally gotten rid of a week’s worth of heat and humidity. But that last walk he had taken on his Mother’s death anniversary had managed to work out well for him after all.

“Do you wonder if there's any point to all of this?” Conrad asked. Jude makes a thoughtful noise, prompting Conrad to continue.

“I feel like I sleep and I wake up exhausted. Like my bones have reached their expiration date and I’m meant to dissolve into the ground.”

Jude laughs at this. “Dissolve!”

Conrad snorts empathetically, “Yes, yes, go ahead and laugh.”

Her laughter falls short, and Jude turns, saying, “I will or I won’t. Maybe there is no point to all this, so laughing won’t make a difference either way.”

“If nothing matters, what is the point of living?” Conrad sighs.

“Maybe the meaning of life is simply to live it — to experience all of its beauty and pain. I don’t think there needs to be a reason to live or a meaning to life. If this life is all we ever get, isn’t it better to live it to the fullest?”

“So what do you think happens after you die?” Conrad asked.

“With the world as big as it is, I really don’t see this life being the only one,” Jude replied.

“So we’ve moved on to reincarnation? Shit, if this isn’t the most random conversation–”

“Do you honestly believe that at the end of this life, you and I can be judged the same as someone living in poverty, or someone at war, or even the same as that son of a bitch King Charles?”

Conrad hums in agreement, “Very true, Jude, team Diana for life. We should make T-shirts. Start a club?” Conrad makes a fake face of contemplation.

“Do this sarcasm business all you want. But it is impossible to take the life of a man who has nothing and judge him the same as a man who has everything. If a poor man steals and lies and does bad things, is he meant to go to hell for it? Punishment for eternity just because he was dealt a bad hand in life?” Jude huffs impatiently.

Conrad furrows his eyebrows in contemplation. “Well, I suppose not. But now what? Are we back to square one and nothing matters?”

“That’s the point, everything matters. I think we come back every time after we die, experiencing life over and over until we become good people.” Jude nudges his shoulder.

Conrad groans loudly. “Damn, I hope not. I’m tired enough of this life, I don’t want to go through more.” Conrad keeps his thoughts of not wanting to live life without her to himself. She’s able to tell anyway, if he’s reading that sly half-smile correctly.

“I think we’ll know each other in every life,” Jude says softly.

“Maybe this isn’t even a life.”

The sombre mood diminishes as Jude sighs in exasperation, “What nonsense are you up to now?”

“Maybe we’re not even real in the first place,” Conrad fakes clutching a string of pearls.

“Enough of your dramatics, we watched Matrix yesterday.”

“Neo is hot.”

“Nemo? The fish?”

“No, Jude. Keanu Reeves,” Conrad sighs when she continues to look at him with a glaze of confusion in her eyes. “The main character of the movie you literally just brought up.”

“Ah yes, Neal.” She nods confidently, having placed him now. Conrad has to press his lips together to bite back a retort, knowing there's absolutely no hope.

“Either way, I was talking about this theory I saw online—” Conrad continues

“It better not have been a random post on Facebook. I just read a research article on the increasing levels of fake news permeating that shithole.” Jude interrupts.

“You’re the one always on Facebook Marketplace! And that’s not the point!” Conrad retorted.

“Yes, the point —”

“Jude,” Conrad stops entirely and turns towards her, interrupting whatever spiel she was going to go down.

“Conrad.”

May I continue?” He asks exasperatedly. At her assenting nod, he bumps their hands together with a soft grin. “I was talking about the theory of Last Thursday.”

“And what’s that?” Jude sighs.

“It’s the idea that the universe was created last Thursday, and our memories and all of history have been pre-programmed into our minds. You can’t submit a memory of something before last Thursday as evidence because the theory itself says that everything has been planted. So, technically, everything that we remember before last Thursday isn’t real and has never happened.”

“You make life complicated. There is no need for all these theories — living is enough.” Jude laughs at him. “And I never want to hear you call me a nerd again after that little spiel.”

“But that’s sort of my point, isn’t it? Maybe it doesn't matter how we came into existence. Just that we are,” Conrad clarifies, “Existing, that is.”

“Then maybe we make the most of the time we do have, despite our beginnings and our end.” She makes a thoughtful sound.

Conrad purses his lips and looks at her, breathing in deeply like he can exhale all his worries into oblivion. More than anything he misses his mother. He feels small again, young. Wondering where his mom had gone and left, and never knowing the answer until she came back with a smile and a kiss. “When that life is over, what do you suppose death feels like?”

Jude brushes a fallen piece of hair off his forehead before she responds, “Death feels like death. Not everything feels like something else.”

The way she smiles up at him silences him, and he knows that nothing could describe the feeling in his chest when she looks up at him like this.

Chapter Text

Fuck.

Conrad had to stop taking gummies with Jude. No matter how convincing her Cousin Lenny was. He felt like a swindled housewife who fell for the door-to-door salesman selling a shoddy vacuum that they didn’t even need in the first place.

He had flown to New York with Jude for one of her symphony concerts. It hadn’t been the first time he had seen her play, but there was something different about seeing her focused, professional. There was none of the sly laughs or half gestures she made when she played only for him.

Which left him in his current predicament. High off his fucking mind with Jude, breaking and entering.

It all started when they took the gummies to watch some space documentary, post-concert. They were due to fly back to California in a day, so they had some time to relax in the graciously symphony-provided hotel. Jude’s idea was that it would make them feel like astronauts or something. The sight of space evoked his ever-present feelings of depression, where he ended up crying for a bit about his mother feeling lonely up in the stars. Jude had to console him for a solid 10 minutes before he managed to relax. Fucking gummies.

By that point, he had started recounting stories of a watch that his mother had left him, but was currently being held hostage by his father in Boston. His father, asshole-extraordinaire that he was, had resented that his mother had left him her father’s watch and insisted that, as her husband, he should have it instead. Certainly, the pretty little $15,000 price tag had no influence on his father. Conrad had been too wrapped in grief to argue, and then had too little contact to bring it up again.

He had made the mistake of mentioning the price to Jude, who had not stopped making bourgeois jokes. He secretly agreed that a watch being worth more than her professional, orchestra-grade cello was fucking absurd. Regardless, it wasn’t the price that mattered, but the small inscription on the back, “There is only one happiness in this life, to love and be loved”.

Upon hearing the quote, Jude — hopeless romantic that she was — had insisted that his mother’s final gift to him, a physical symbol of her love for him, had to be retrieved.

Which is how they had ended up here. In Boston. At 3 fucking a.m. in the morning. Jude’s fucking cousin Lenny.

Conrad had been pretty sure that his father had been off to a business conference somewhere and had elected to stay in a hotel instead of making the drive back down to Boston. So he and Jude had taken a train on account of being high off their minds, and Jude’s general distaste for driving.

Upon arriving at his father’s house, Jude was still riled up from hearing another one of his father’s faux pas, and had decided to ‘enter’ by lobbing a rock through the window and climbing in. The way she had taken off her sweater to brush away errant glass, still hanging helplessly onto the frame, had him vaguely concerned for how well she was breaking and entering.

When he raised these concerns, he heard two God-forsaken words but registered three. Fucking. Cousin. Lenny.

He was never going to complain about a family member ever again.

The gummies had addled his mind enough that he apparently managed to voice his thoughts out loud. Jude pointedly noted that her Cousin Lenny had never fucked her boyfriend or stolen her inheritance, which had him silently pout. Touché.

Jude had gone ahead and opened the front door for him. Conrad knew exactly where his father would keep the watch, so they headed directly to his bedroom, where he had a hidden safe in the closet. The code was still his mother’s birthday, because Adam Fisher was only ever a devoted husband when it came to appearances and maintaining the perfect facade.

He had just grabbed the watch when he heard sirens. Of course, his father had a silent alarm system that was tripped the minute Jude had broken the window. Conrad turned to find Jude taking other things from his father’s bedroom.

“What the hell are you doing! We have to get the fuck out of here!” He whisper-shouted while grabbing her arm in an attempt to pull her along with him.

“If the only thing missing is your watch, it’s gonna be pretty freaking obvious who broke in, dumbass!” She whisper-shouted back while she returned to robbing his father.

Jude grabbed a few more expensive-looking items before she broke his father’s bedroom window and jumped out.

“Come on, we have to go now!” She urged him from down below.

Conrad moved in a daze. When he jumped from the window, managed to get up and run, and then scale a fence to keep up with Jude he had only one thought — fucking cousin Lenny.

They had managed to end up at some tourist-trap boardwalk after running for God-knows how long. Maybe teleporting was a side effect of cousin Lenny's gummies.

As Conrad began to sober up, the reality of his situation hit him. He had aided and abetted a fucking robbery, since quite frankly, Jude had done most of the work. He was just there providing a nice view and occasional directions. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that if the police caught him, he would have said he had done it completely alone.

Fuck, Jude had worn gloves because she was trying out some new style, so his prints were everywhere. And in this day and age, there must have been at least a dozen cameras that caught them. He could feel his breath catching, his heart pounding and his vision swimming.

He was fucked. His career was over and done with. Jeremiah would probably celebrate knowing his older brother was off serving time. He was going to have to learn how to make a shiv. Knowing Jude, she would suggest cousin Lenny give him a quick tutorial.

Apparently, Jude had noticed his meltdown because he felt cold hands on his face that could only belong to his little maniac. When he had first started getting to know her, she always asked before touching him. Over time, with his permission and her ability to read him better, she always seemed to know when it was okay and when it wasn’t.

“Hey,” Jude murmured. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“We’re gonna get fucking arrested, Jude. I don’t know how you’re so calm right now.” Conrad said back hysterically. He voiced his earlier concerns about how they were certain to be caught.

“No, dude — my fingerprints aren’t on anything and you’re his son, so it won’t be suspicious to the cops,” She assured him. “Plus I facetimed cousin Vito on the train when you passed out and he helped me with an escape route so we could avoid any cameras. Why do you think we hopped a fence?”

“For fun?”

“Dude.”

“How the hell am I meant to know you’re apparently a fucking professional robber even while high?” Conrad said, exasperated.

“Pretty sure I’ve grown a tolerance to cousin Lenny’s gummies, honestly.” Jude shrugged.

Conrad could only stare at her in befuddlement. But the relief rushing in from knowing he wasn’t going to live as a hardened criminal had him nearly prepared to marry cousin Vito.

“I feel so stupid, how the hell could I have done that? I’m not the type of person to get high, travel across the fucking state and then rob someone!” His voice steadily grew higher and higher in pitch until he reached a tone he was sure only dogs could hear.

“Alright, let’s walk,” Jude said.

“I’m not interested in ending the night in this tourist trap.”

“Come on, let’s go get funnel cakes and walk to the end of the boardwalk. You’re a fish-er, you would think you would want to be closer to the water.” Jude started pulling him along.

Conrad might still be a little bit high, the way he started laughing hysterically.

They managed to get their funnel cakes and walk to the edge of the boardwalk, sitting down as their legs dangled idly above the water. By this point, he was sure it was about time for sunrise.

“We can talk now,” Jude nudged him, looking uncharacteristically serious. “I think you’ve had your whole life to take care of everyone else and be the adult. Tonight was about being a kid and making stupid decisions.”

“I think there’s a difference between a stupid decision and committing a felony,” Conrad said, his voice strangled.

“I wouldn’t have let us get caught.”

“How many times have you done crime?” Conrad gaped at her.

“You don’t do crime, and it’s not a habit! Just every now and then, when I owe cousin Lenny a favour.” Jude laughed.

Of fucking course. Cousin. Lenny.

“Thank you.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, Jude,” Conrad repeated. “It was… fun. At least at the end, when I realized I wasn’t going to prison.”

“You’re very welcome. I think you can do with being less serious.”

“I’m never serious with you.” Conrad smiled.

“I think you calm me down a bit, too, to be fair,” Jude grinned back. “We balance each other out.”

The sun had started rising at that point. Warmth melting against the horizon, the sky a beautiful golden colour. He turned to Jude, red hair glowing in the morning sun. His eyes kept refocusing on her lips, still pulled up in that secret smile only meant for him.

“I think that’s why we’re such good friends.” Jude continued.

The word made him internally recoil. Conrad had a brief realization that maybe he didn’t want to be just friends with Jude. That maybe he could see himself breaking into houses and dealing with her fucking cousin Lenny for the rest of his life if it meant he got to keep her around.

Oh.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

Is it better to speak or to die?

Conrad had walked the rest of the night in a daze. He barely managed a single word all the way back to the hotel, and then the airport, and all the way on the plane ride back to California. His realization had weighed him down to silence, apparently.

It felt strange to love someone else -- someone other than Belly. Loving Belly had felt like part of his identity at one point, something people could use to describe him. His mother had subtly tied the idea of happiness to a relationship with Belly. Growing up, it seemed incomprehensible that he would end up with anyone else.

Sometimes, when he gets drunk enough, he can admit to himself that he resents his mother. That he’s angry that his whole life was reduced to fulfilling some childhood dream of hers. To have her child marry her best friend’s — regardless of whether they would have loved each other.

After his mother had died, it felt like another deathbed wish he had to fulfill. Look out for Jere, end up with Belly, check up on Laurel and somehow manage to end up as a somewhat decent person.

Belly’s betrayal was like losing his mother all over again. Like he had failed her, disappointed her even in a grave.

Conrad thinks maybe that’s why Jeremiah even went for Belly. After the haze of anger and betrayal faded, Conrad could see that Jere had wanted to live up to their mom’s dream too.

Being with Belly felt safe. Conrad would have to go through the rest of his life without his mother. He would graduate, move out, get a job, get married, and he would never know how his mom felt about any of it. He would never hear her tell him how proud she was of him in a cap and gown. And Conrad would never hear her tell him that maybe that job wasn’t good for him.

Susannah Fisher would never approve or disapprove of anything he did for the rest of his life. Because his mother was dead.

But Belly was safe because she was a guarantee. He already knew his mother more than approved of her. That marrying her would have made his mother ecstatic with joy. Being with Belly felt like clinging to whatever remnants he had of his mother.

But stealing Susannah's watch with Jude had him thinking that maybe he could hold on to his mother in other ways. That condemning himself to a life with a girl that wasn’t very interesting and revolved her life around someone else’s summer house would have always been a mistake.

So maybe he was still mad at Belly. That didn’t change the fact that she dumped him, convinced everyone that he was the one to initiate a break-up, managed to yell at him at his mother’s funeral and then kissed his brother right after he confessed his feelings to her.

There was this guy in one of his lectures who managed to be the most annoying person in the universe. He loved to sit in the back, talking to his friends while reeking of cheap cologne and weed that gave Conrad a migraine that lasted for hours after. In all his plots for revenge, he wouldn’t have even come close to treating him the way Belly had.

And this from a girl who supposedly had loved him for most of her life. If that was what her love looked like, he didn’t want it.

He hadn’t even realized he had been drowning until Jude breathed air back into his lungs. If only his convoluted metaphor were true this time --- he would have loved a live demonstration of CPR.

Conrad had been avoiding the girl in question for a while after their escapades in Boston. Coming with generic excuses of a heavy workload and lots of academic-related stress.

Really, what did he have to offer?

His whole world was gray. Jude brought in colour, but he knew he would infect her eventually, the way he had with everyone else. He had no friends or family to speak of. Conrad had ruined every single relationship he ever had.

His family hated him. If he died tomorrow, the most emotion any of them would show would be annoyance at having to attempt to schedule time to come down for his funeral — if that. Conrad wonders grimly if he would even have a funeral. Who would plan it? Certainly not his father, brother or any of the Conklins. Maybe his father would hire someone to make a business-casual networking event for his work colleagues out of the inconvenience that was his son's death.

But just as quickly as the notion comes, it goes away at the thought of Jude. And Conrad knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that Jude would make sure he got a proper farewell. That she would mourn him, in whatever strange way she managed to concoct.

His previous friendships hadn’t been as reliable. People got tired of depressed, anxious Conrad. At first, they would pity the poor, sad excuse of a boy in the shape of Conrad Fisher. Conrad, with his dead mother and his estranged family, would understandably need some support. But eventually it got tiring dragging along dead weight with the singular purpose of making everyone else feel worse.

Conrad knew he would do the same to Jude. Jude with her colours and happiness and sunshine. He could do nothing but dim her light. And he knew that Jude deserved to be with someone who could only make her shine brighter.

At the end of the day, he fucked everything up with Belly and Jeremiah and Laurel and Steven and his Dad and all his old friends that had long forgotten the existence of the human-shaped personification of sadness. He was too much.

While he knew that being with Belly wasn’t good for him, and that loving her was a sad attempt at living up to his mother’s expectations --- he knew he was a fuck-up.

That he had messed things up irrevocably past the point of amends. And he knew that confessing to Jude would ruin that relationship too.

Jude was too lovely to completely cut him off after rejecting him. She would let him down gently and insist they were better off as friends. Hanging out would be awkward and uncomfortable, and the time they spent together would lessen until his relationship with her was reduced to what little of a relationship he had now with his family.

Conrad couldn’t bear to think of a life without her. Having Jude in his life, in whatever capacity, was better than not having her at all.

So when it came down to deciding, Conrad knew he would die before he would ever speak.

Chapter Text

Time passed. Conrad had spent every holiday with Jude in California, and whichever of her cousins managed to make it down. The smell of sea salt only brought forth memories of her now. The fresh ocean breeze, the sun beaming, and the sound of waves crashing was still home, but a different one.

Life was better than it was. Jude had convinced him to give therapy a go, he had made a friend in class, and he had managed to land a placement with Dr. Namazy. As things were, Conrad finally felt like his life had been unpaused.

And then Taylor, of all people, had called. Steven had been in an accident. Selfishly, the first thought that Conrad had was how little he mattered in the grand scope of things. None of the Conklins had thought to reach out, and certainly not his brother. The only one who thought to let him know about his childhood best friend’s accident was doing so with the intention of gaining something. The healthcare system was fucked, and the only value Conrad brought to the table was his job.

Conrad let out a long breath, pressing his palm against his chest to calm his racing heart. He needed to take a beat. As his therapist said, he was worth more than the things he did for others. It was hard to believe, but Jude never failed to help remind him.

He took another deep breath before walking up to his supervisor. “Dr. Namazy? Excuse me.”

“What's up?” She replied.

“Uh, a friend of mine was in a car accident. Uh, very close friend. More like family, and he's at Providence General. Is there any chance you know anyone in neurology there?” He stammered out in a rush.

“The head of neurology is a friend of a friend.” Dr. Namazy stated absentmindedly while penning something on her clipboard.

“Well, his name is Steven Conklin. Do you think there's any possible way that you could make a call?”

“I'll see what I can do.” She hummed.

“Thank you.”

“Do you think you need to take the day?”

“Uh, no. I'm good.” Conrad knew what Jude would say to this, but quite honestly, he just needed to get his mind off things. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that if he took the day off, he would end up at home staring at the ceiling and wallowing in self-hatred.

Conrad had continued with work until Dr. Namazy barged in a few hours later. “Any news on your friend?” She asked.

“No.” Fuck, he was so awkward.

“Are you sure you shouldn't just go out there?” Dr. Namazy raised her eyebrows.

“I don't even know what I would do if I did. It's not like I'm a doctor yet. Plus, we've barely talked over the last few years.” Conrad replied self-deprecatingly and immediately mentally slammed his head into a wall. Was he really the kind of employee who showed up to work to lament and overshare?

“How did everything go with those blood draws?” She followed up.

“Good. Great.” Conrad pressed his lips together.

“This is mislabeled.”

“Oh, that's, uh, that's mine. My mistake.” He reached out to grab the vial from her hand. Fuck.

“A mistake that put your patient at risk.” Dr. Namazy said, straight-faced.

“I'll fix it right now.”

“You should've gone home when I gave you the chance.” She sighed.

“It won't happen again.” Conrad nearly begged. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“No, it won't. You're done here. You're not ready for this.”

“You're firing me for one mistake? Dr. Namazy, please, I didn't…” Jesus wept. One fucking conversation with his so-called family, and he was back to being a self-destructive martyr.

“You may see this as one mistake, but this is about you not knowing your limits, which makes you a walking liability. My liability.” Dr. Namazy put her hands up, interrupting him before he could say anything. “No, you can always apply again next year.”

Fuck.
___________________________________________________

Conrad had just managed to get back home, lying down on the couch with music pouring from his headphones, when he got a text.

Jeremiah.

His betrayer. His best friend. His family. His brother.

His mother’s memorial service was coming up. And they were meant to give some speech together? Like they were some kind of functioning family that had suffered a great loss but managed to hold each other together.

His mother’s death was the straw that broke the camel’s back. She was the glue holding the broken pieces of their family together. No one had wanted to do anything to break her heart, so we had all gone along with her wishes. 2 kids, white picket fence — we were practically living the American dream.

There was no incentive to pretend to be a family after she was gone.

The thing that grated on his nerves the most was that he was still like his mother. Still a dreamer, an idealist. The minute that Dr. Namazy had fired him, he had only wanted his brother — had thought of nothing but coming home and playing something together while eating a frankly dangerous amount of junk food with Jeremiah.

Some small part of Conrad, that he refused to acknowledge, wanted nothing more than his family. He wanted someone to hold him and tell him it was going to be okay.

Even in the days of keeping the facade up, he had wanted nothing more than for the illusion to be true. But his father had never cared for him, and his brother had apparently joined him in that camp.

It was almost funny that the one person in his life that he could count on was the one named biblically for their betrayal. His Judas, his salvation.

So Conrad swallowed the loneliness and the rejection, picking up the phone to call the only person who had always answered.