Everything was falling apart. 

Beckett sat at the worn wooden table in the airbnb's kitchen, his fingers pressed against his temples as he tried to make sense of the mess before him. Blueprints for The Den's repairs, contractor estimates that had mysteriously doubled overnight, supplier emails that had gone from neutral to apologetic refusals. Another roadblock, another no, another problem with no immediate solution. 

The frustration burned in his chest like acid. Beckett exhaled sharply, his tail flicking. He had spent the last several days making calls, tracking leads, trying to push forward. But every door that had once been open to him were suddenly locked. 

This wasn't coincidence, it was deliberate pressure. Beckett knew Victor was behind this and yet knowing didn't make it stop. His fingers curled into fists; his work, his vision, his sweat and blood poured into every inch of The Den...his home. Sure The Den was still standing, barely, but it had been violated. 

Beckett could still smell the smoke sometimes, still hear the crackle of flames eating away at everything he had built. The bruises from the attack had faded, but the ache in his ribs lingered, and every time he moved too quickly, his body reminded him of just how much damage had been done. 

'You need to rest.' Jonas' voice echoed in his head, but Beckett ignored it, just like he always did. 

He didn't have time to rest. The thought of slowing down, of waiting, made him feel suffocated. He needed to act, he needed --

A sharp knock on the door broke his train of thought, Beckett groaned. He knew who it was; he could have ignored it, maybe if he pretends to not be here...

Then came another knock, more insistent. Persistent bastard...Scowling, Beckett stood, rolling his stiff shoulders before crossing the room and yanking the door open. Gabriel stood on the other side, tall and solid, gold eyes sharp as they scanned the omega like they were assessing damage.

"What?" Beckett frowned.

Gabriel sniffed and raised a brow, "That's how you greet someone checking up on you?" 

Beckett's eyes narrowed, his expression indicating he was still waiting for an answer to his question, "I don't need checking up on, so again...what?" 

The alpha didn't reply; instead, he stepped inside without waiting for an invitation, brushing past Beckett like he belonged there. 

The way Beckett tensed, watching as Gabriel took in the state of the room, he felt like he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been. The disorganized table, the clutter of paperwork, the copious amounts of both old and new coffee cups strewn about. 

Gabriel clicked his tongue, "So this is what you've been doing..." 

"Obviously." Beckett shut the door with a little more force than he meant to, he then pushed past Gabriel in an attempt to at least get the coffee cups cleaned up; some more or less full than others, "Did Jonas send you?" 

Tail wagging slowly, Gabriel hummed, "No," he took a peek at the various rejection letters, "So, how's this working out for you?" 

Beckett threw the handful of cups into the sink, "You know what, fuck you." 

Not taking the bait, Gabriel just leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching him with that unreadable expression, "You look like shit." he said finally. 

Growling, Beckett collected some more cups, "You came all this way just to insult me?" 

"You sleeping?" 

More cups into the sink, "Not your business." 

"Eating?" 

Beckett glared.

Gabriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. Then, before Beckett could react, the alpha stepped closer. Close enough that Beckett could feel the heat rolling off him, could see the way his eyes softened just slightly. 

"You don't have to do this alone." Gabriel's voice was quieter now. 

Beckett's fist clenched, the temptation to punch Gabriel was there, but he didn't, "I can handle it." 

Gabriel studied him, his gaze searching, like he was trying to see past the words, "Maybe," he said, "But you shouldn't have to." 

It wasn't the first time Gabriel had said something like that, those words twisting something in the omega's chest; this wasn't even the first time Beckett almost believed him. For a moment, neither of them moved. The room felt smaller, the air heavier. 

Beckett turned away first. He didn't like the way Gabriel was looking at him. Like he mattered. 

"I need to focus," Beckett muttered, shoving down the unease in his gut, "I don't have time for this..."

Silent for a moment, "Then focus," Gabriel finally spoke, "but let me help." 

Closing his eyes briefly, inhaling slowly, Beckett knew he wanted to say no. Knew that if he said so, Gabriel would leave if only for a little while. He wanted to push the alpha away...but...damn it all. 

"Fine..." 

Gabriel didn't ask, he didn't push, didn't make a big deal out of it. After Beckett finally muttered that reluctant fine, Gabriel just nodded and moved towards the kitchen. 

Beckett watched him out of the corner of his eye as the alpha pulled open cabinets, assessing the sad state of supplies. It had been about a month since the other had last brought groceries, Jonas had been relying mostly on take out and convenience food. Gabriel barely hesitated before rolling up his sleeves and setting to work like he owned the place. 

Sitting at the table, Beckett pretended to focus on his scattered paperwork but was really still watching. 

Gabriel moved with easy confidence, pulling together whatever was available; eggs, rice, some leftover chicken from the fridge. His tail flicked lazily behind him as he worked, the scent of sizzling garlic and butter filling the air. 

Beckett's stomach betrayed him, twisting sharply in hunger. He'd eaten today, probably....maybe. 

Gabriel didn't comment on it. He just kept working, brow furrowed in quiet concentration. The steady sound of chopping filled the room, followed by the rhythmic sizzle as he tossed ingredients into the pan. It was...calming...

Annoyed that he'd noticed, Beckett tried to turn his attention back onto his work. It reminded him of how long it had been since Gabriel had cooked for him. In the early days of The Den, when money was tight and exhaustion had crept into his bones, he had never let himself rely on anyone else. And yet, here Gabriel was.

Cooking like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like Beckett wasn't snapping at him every other day, like he wanted to be here. 

Gods, Beckett wasn't sure he was ready to unpack that. 

At least he didn't have to at that moment. A few minutes later, Gabriel set a plate in front of him. Steaming fried rice, golden with egg and rich with the scent of caramelized onions and garlic. Thin slices of chicken, cooked perfectly, still tender, seasoned just right. 

It wasn't fancy, but it smelled good. 

Beckett didn't reach for it immediately, he just stared at it, then glanced up. 

Gabriel rolled his eyes, already sitting down with his own plate, "Eat, I'm not poisoning you." 

"Is fried rice the only thing you know how to make?" 

The alpha choked slightly on his first bite, "What? No! It's just the quickest and easiest thing to make with left overs." 

Beckett let out a short, surprised laugh before he could stop himself. 

Equally as surprised by the laugh, Gabriel just blinked, then smiled; but he didn't push. And for that, Beckett was grateful. 

They ate in silence, the tension from earlier fading into something...easier. It wasn't comfortable, exactly. But it wasn't unbearable either. For the first time in weeks, Beckett let himself sit still, let himself eat a real meal, let himself breathe without immediately thinking of the next fight. 

And Gabriel, miraculously, didn't ruin it by talking. The quiet between them settled like a truce, neither of them acknowledged it, but it was there. 

====

A few hours later, the front door slammed open. Jonas strode in like he owned the place, carrying two bags of takeout and a look that screamed I know something you don't. 

"Well!" Jonas said, grinning as he looked between them, "This is suspicious." 

Not looking up, Beckett muttered with a mouthful, "No, it's not." 

Jonas smirked, tossing the bags onto the counter, "Oh, it is. What did I just walk into? Nobody's missing a head. Nobody's scowling...." Beckett scowled, "there it is..." Jonas corrected. 

Gabriel was leaning back in his chair, knowing that this had been Beckett's second plate, "Dinner." 

"Oh, so you're officially cooking for him now?" the mock betrayal in Jonas' voice only worsened his brother's scowl. 

"Drop it." 

Jonas hummed, his grin entirely too smug. He would drop it for now, but the look on Gabriel's face told the instigating twin everything he needed to know. At least until he spotted what the alpha had made and his eyes lit up, "Oh shit! Is that your fried rice?!" 

Ego inflating, Gabriel smirked and crossed his arms, "Obviously." 

"Fuck yeah!" Jonas didn't waste any time pushing his way further into the kitchen, takeout bags completely forgotten, "Why didn't y'all make me a plate?" 

Beckett, still seated but noticeably sluggish, waved a lazy hand, "You weren't here." 

Jonas made a dismissive noise, already filling a plate, "Doesn't mean I should get some," it was a generous serving, "If I die Beckett, tell the world my story." 

"Mn..." Beckett grunted as his brother sat next to him. 

Taking a bite, Jonas let out a sinful moan, "Ffffuuck, this is so good." he looked to be in heaven, savoring every bite. 

Beckett, meanwhile, was struggling. He had intended on continuing his work. The laptop was still open in front of him, papers still scattered across the table. But with a full stomach and the steady warmth of the room pressing down on him, his eyelids were getting too heavy. He shifted, trying to straighten up, but his body had other plans. His head dipped forward once, twice, before he slumped, cheek resting against his forearm. 

Gabriel and Jonas both turned at the same time, did that just happen? 

"Well, that's new..." Jonas smirked.

Not missing a beat, Gabriel stood without a word. Jonas watched as the alpha stepped around the table, leaned down, and effortlessly lifted Beckett into his arms. The omega barely stirred, just murmured something incoherent before settling against Gabriel's chest, his tail swaying limply. 

Speaking through a full mouth, Jonas quipped, "You're getting real comfortable with this." 

The red on Gabriel's cheeks nearly matched his hair, "Don't speak with your mouth full...." he muttered. 

Jonas grinned but didn't argue. 

Carrying Beckett into the spare bedroom, Gabriel nudged the door open with his foot before carefully laying the other down on the bed. Beckett shifted slightly, half curling in on himself, but didn't wake. Hesitating for half a second, Gabriel then reached down, tugged the blanket over Beckett's shoulders, and brushed a stray piece of hair from his face. 

Too easy. Too natural...

He exhaled sharply and turned away before his thoughts went places he wasn't ready for. 

Back in the living room, Jonas was waiting, smirking like he had witnessed something deeply amusing. He still had his plate with him, opting to finish it in a more comfortable location, he had though made up containers of leftovers but left the dishes for someone else....most likely Gabriel. 

Gabriel ignored the look as he sat down, "We need a plan." 

"Mmhm..." Jonas nodded with a fork in his mouth, swallowing, "Let's ruin Castellan's whole ass week." 

Gabriel grinned, "Now that," he said, "I can work with."