And We're All Falling

Music To My Ears

Wash balanced the warm bag of food in one hand and the grocery bag of ice cream in the other. While silently praying that he wouldn't drop everything, he kicked the door to Della's apartment.

"I brought lunch!" he called, walking inside.

"Kitchen. I'm coming in a sec."

Sighing, Wash set everything down in the kitchen and began to set the individual items out on the counter. He could hear the sounds of typing coming from her spare bedroom (better known as her office). Breeding season at Stonehill was in full swing. He knew that this was Della's "Final Form" as some would say.

She hardly left the farm unless Lylla pushed her out (which is why Wash was watching her). When she did leave, the spare bedroom/office became her new HQ and she hardly left that. He had to coax her to even come into the kitchen for lunch (and even that was a good ten minute battle).

And don't even bring up the whole kissing situation.

She avoided it like the plague. He didn't know whether it was because she was ashamed or because she was just really, really confused (Wash knew that was his reason for avoiding the subject). But he knew that because she was shoving that (and any other emotional feelings or issues) aside for another time. That, plus her workload she gave herself, was wearing her down and he could tell.

"How much was it?"

Wash looked up.

Della, dressed in a dark gray tank top and flowered leggings, had recently pulled her hair into a messy bun. Her makeup was smudged around her eyes and he sensed that she'd been crying. He smiled softly but got nothing in return.

"Wash, how much—"

"Nothing monetary," he replied, hopping onto her counter. "But there is a payment that I need. No money."

"What?" she asked, sounding annoyed or tired (he could never tell with her).

"I want you to take your food, go over to your couch and not get up for an hour," he instructed, giving her the container that held her chicken.

"You want me to do what?" she sputtered.

"I want you to relax. Please and thank you," he replied, pushing her lightly toward her living room.

Without much more protest, she allowed herself to sit on her couch. Tucking her feet underneath her, she turned the TV on (the first channel that came up was horse racing, but he made sure she changed it because it was considered work) and opened her box. Wash started to go back to the kitchen.

"Wait!"

He stopped and looked back to her.

"You wanna....maybe....sit here with me?" she mumbled, cheeks turning redder by the second.

Wash smiled and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Uh, yeah, sure! Just, uh, let me get my food," he agreed, trying not to stumble over his words too much.

A few minutes later, they were both at opposite ends of the couch, eating their food and watching some reality show that made them glad they were not famous. By the twenty minute mark, both of them were laughing.

Wash had never really heard Della laugh until then. Sure, she'd fake laughed a lot and sadistically laughed, but she never laughed like this. It was real and it made him fall for her a little more.

Music...her laugh is like music....harmonious and—why am I getting all poetic and deep over a girl who may not actually even like my existence? Because I am an idiot, that's why. Oh well, the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem, right?

"Wash?"

He dug himself out of his thoughts and looked at her.

Her phone glowed beside her with a text message. He couldn't make out the actual message, but the name said Lylla. Della had muted the TV and looked ready to cry. Wash tried not to panic.

"What happened?" he asked too quickly.

She let out half of a sob before swallowing it back.

"It's Charlie...my horse is dying."

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(Disclaimer: I do not own the characters from Red VS Blue, they are owned by the lovely people at RoosterTeeth :))