Chapter 13 Fractured #2
The doctor didn't know exactly why.
Only that something had changed.
And whatever was happening inside the mechanic's head wasn't good.
The farmhouse felt unusually quiet that night.
Rain tapped softly against the windows.
Dinner sat half-finished on the table.
Neither man seemed particularly hungry.
Deck pushed food around his plate.
Lost in thought.
Again.
The sight finally broke whatever remained of Finn's restraint.
The doctor set down his fork.
The sound echoed through the kitchen.
Immediately drawing the mechanic's attention.
Gray eyes lifted.
Guarded.
Tired.
Familiar.
"What?"
The question sounded cautious.
Like Deck already knew what was coming.
Maybe he did.
Finn folded his arms.
Studying him.
Really studying him.
The shadows beneath his eyes.
The tension in his shoulders.
The exhaustion he carried everywhere lately.
The sight made his chest ache.
"Talk to me."
The request emerged quietly.
The mechanic immediately looked away.
A reaction that answered everything.
"Finn—"
"No."
The interruption surprised them both.
The doctor rarely cut people off.
Tonight he didn't care.
The silence stretched.
Heavy.
Uncomfortable.
Rain continued falling outside.
The farmhouse suddenly felt very small.
The mechanic leaned back in his chair.
Defensive.
Preparing for a fight.
The sight frustrated him.
Because this wasn't supposed to be a fight.
It was supposed to be a conversation.
"I'm trying."
Deck's voice sounded rough.
Honest.
Painfully honest.
The answer only made things worse.
"No, you're not."
Gray eyes snapped toward him instantly.
The words landed.
Good.
Because they were true.
The doctor stood.
Unable to stay seated any longer.
Unable to pretend everything was okay.
"You're disappearing."
The accusation hung between them.
Sharp.
Direct.
The mechanic froze.
Just for a second.
Enough.
Finn took a breath.
Then another.
Trying to keep his voice steady.
Trying not to let fear take control.
"Every day I watch you pull farther away."
The silence remained.
The mechanic stared at him.
Expression unreadable.
The doctor continued anyway.
Because stopping felt impossible now.
"Something happened."
Another silence.
"You won't tell me what."
Still silence.
"But you're punishing yourself for it."
The truth landed hard.
Visible.
The reaction confirmed it.
Deck looked away again.
Toward the window.
Toward escape.
Toward anything except him.
The sight hurt.
More than it should.
Because suddenly Finn understood.
Not the details.
The pattern.
The mechanic was doing what he always did.
Finding reasons he didn't deserve good things.
Finding reasons happiness couldn't last.
Finding reasons to leave before he got left.
The realization made his chest tighten painfully.
"Is that what this is?"
The question emerged softly.
The mechanic frowned.
"What?"
Finn laughed.
A sad sound.
A tired sound.
"This thing you do."
Deck remained silent.
The doctor took another step closer.
Heart pounding.
Because suddenly the truth felt obvious.
Terrifyingly obvious.
"You decide what's best for everyone."
The mechanic's jaw tightened.
There.
The reaction.
The confirmation.
Finn saw it immediately.
"You decide what they deserve."
The doctor shook his head.
Frustration mixing with fear.
"And somehow you always end up deciding you're not enough."
The words settled heavily between them.
The mechanic stood abruptly.
The chair scraped across the floor.
The sound shattered the quiet.
"Stop."
The command emerged rough.
Almost desperate.
The reaction stunned him.
Because Deck looked scared.
Not angry.
Scared.
The realization hurt.
A lot.
"No."
The answer came instantly.
Firmly.
The doctor stepped closer.
Close enough to see every emotion crossing the mechanic's face.
Close enough to see the panic.
The uncertainty.
The vulnerability.
Everything hidden beneath the rough exterior.
"You think I don't see it?"
The question landed softly.
The mechanic remained motionless.
Silent.
The doctor laughed again.
This time without humor.
"You're terrible at hiding things."
The confession almost made Deck smile.
Almost.
The expression vanished immediately.
Replaced by something sadder.
Something heavier.
The sight broke his heart.
Because suddenly Finn understood exactly what had been happening.
The comparisons.
The doubts.
The self-loathing.
The belief that everyone deserved better.
The mechanic had convinced himself he wasn't enough.
Again.
The realization made something inside him snap.
Not anger.
Certainty.
The kind that arrived once and never left.
"Look at me."
The request emerged quietly.
The mechanic hesitated.
Then obeyed.
Gray eyes met blue.
The sight stole his breath.
Every single time.
The doctor stepped even closer.
No distance left now.
No room for escape.
No room for lies.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?"
The question hung in the air.
The mechanic swallowed hard.
The movement looked nervous.
Unexpectedly vulnerable.
Finn continued before he could answer.
"I see a man who risks everything for people he loves."
The mechanic looked away.
The doctor gently caught his attention again.
"No."
The word emerged softly.
"Listen."
The silence returned.
Neither moving.
Neither breathing properly.
"I see someone kind."
Deck almost laughed.
The doctor ignored him.
"Someone loyal."
Another silence.
"Someone who spent months fighting his way back because he refused to give up."
The mechanic's throat worked visibly.
Emotion.
Real emotion.
The sight made Finn's chest ache.
Because nobody should look so shocked by being loved.
The realization hit hard.
Loved.
The word appeared suddenly.
Unexpectedly.
Yet completely true.
The doctor stared at him.
Heart pounding.
The truth finally impossible to ignore.
Impossible to contain.
"Deck..."
His voice softened.
The mechanic froze.
Something changed in his expression.
Like he already knew.
Like part of him had been waiting.
The realization terrified them both.
Finn took a shaky breath.
Then another.
No more hiding.
No more pretending.
No more fear.
The words emerged before he could reconsider them.
Raw.
Honest.
Terrifying.
"I'm falling in love with you."
Silence.
Absolute silence.
The rain outside disappeared.
The farmhouse disappeared.
Everything disappeared.
Only those words remained.
Only the man hearing them.
Deck stared at him.
Motionless.
The mechanic's entire world seemed to stop.
Shock flashed across his face.
Then fear.
Then something far more dangerous.
Hope.
The sight nearly broke him.
Because nobody had ever looked at him like that before.
Like he'd been handed something precious.
Something fragile.
Something he desperately wanted but didn't believe he deserved.
The realization settled heavily between them.
And for the first time in years, Declan Harlan looked genuinely terrified.
Not by danger.
Not by violence.
Not by ghosts.
But by how much those words meant to him.
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