Break

Epilogue

The drive from the hospital to her apartment is long – longer than she expects, although it is somewhere in the midst of the tail end of morning peak hour, so she guesses it kind of makes sense. Shayne talks softly with her as he drives, but soon Courtney finds herself staring at her camera roll on her phone.

"I don't think I want to quit Smosh or publicity or... anything. I love my job. I like getting to stand up for things I believe in and be some vague sort of role model for people and sometimes post thirst trap photos that were always slightly directed at you..." she trails off, voice turning teasing.

"They worked, I always saw them and had to pretend I didn't think you looked just stunningly perfect," he laughs, before his tone turns serious, "but I think that's right, Court. It's... everything with that doctor scared me so much. It still scares me, a little. But... I think you should keep at it. It's not always going to be like that, it's just... we had a run in with one person that doesn't see we're real people outside of all that. He's not... he's not everyone."

"Exactly," she replies, "but how are you feeling about it, baby?"

"Honestly I'm- it scared me more having it directed at you than it did me. So... if you feel okay to stick with it, then I will be too. And I mean- it's weird to imagine my life without that. I know Smosh won't last forever but... things have been going so good. It's not the time, I want to stay," he replies, tone slowly growing from hesitance to certainty.

"So... I guess if neither of us are quitting the internet, I can do a dumb word- and photo-dump?" she jokes, "no, yeah, I get what you mean. We're gonna stick with this. And we're going to be okay. Most of the people that matter know the boundaries between the internet and the real."

"They do," Shayne agrees, pausing his conversation for a moment to focus on the road as he merges across two lanes as they approach their exit onto the freeway that takes them closest to Courtney's apartment, "and I think you should Instagram dump. They haven't said anything directly, but I got the vibe from Damien and Ian that we sent things a little crazy with that video."

"Mmm," Courtney hums her acknowledgement as she moves to Instagram and slowly flicks through the relatively low number of photos she's taken in the 16 days since she woke up and orders them in her post.

The first is easy: it's one her Dad had taken and Shayne had sent her, of her fast asleep and using his chest as a pillow, his arms wrapped protectively around her and eyes deep with love as he looks at her. She follows it with a dumb screenshot she took of Shayne making a face one time he FaceTimed her, Bones and Birdie climbing all over him; and then the selfie they'd just taken with Emma. She adds in the photo of her cast, one of each of her parents visiting her in the hospital, and finally, she quickly flicks back to her camera to take a photo of Shayne, in profile, driving them home.

"Monday destroyed the trust & confidence I had in the doctors, my job, Smosh fans, and myself. Everything we said still stands, and that doesn't go away quickly. But we know that horrible doctor is not everyone. I got a new doctor that listened & respected (real) me, and all the nurses bent the rules as much as they could to make me feel safe again.

Shoutouts to my parents for being around the last 4 weeks, and to Emma the nurse we mentioned last time, who plus getting that 'us in hospital' was not 'public us', went out of her way to support me & Shayne the whole time and is generally an A+ person.

And my beautiful boyfriend Shayne has been caring, protective, cat-sitting, a very comfortable pillow, and everything I've wanted and needed.

(also, I broke my leg, so drew all over the cast with Shayne's help. You can guess what he drew.)

Now I'm free, and we're going to go home, I'm going to recover a bit more, and eventually, we'll both be back at Smosh."

By the time she types out the caption, reads it back to Shayne, and then hits post, he's pulling into her usual car space in her building parking lot. It's the first weird thing that sticks in her mind – her Fiat isn't there – but she pushes it away as Shayne lifts her up out of the car and into his arms to, as promised, carry her up the few steps and into her apartment.

He sets her carefully on her own living room sofa, Courtney leaning down and pulling both cats up into her lap when they start crowding around her feet.

"I've missed you so much, my babies!" she tells them, excited, as they both repetitively headbutt every part of her they can reach, soft paws padding across her lap as they do. Shayne joins her on the sofa after he's brought in her bag and her crutches, leaning the latter up against the edge of the sofa within her reach, and the cats quickly settle into lounging across both of them, demanding pats as if Shayne hadn't been there only a few hours earlier.

As he slots comfortably into her home environment, it only solidifies the plans she'd made two days earlier.

Courtney has always hated her doorbell, but when it rings just after 5pm that evening, she can't hold back the smile poking at the corners of her mouth no matter how much she purses her lips.

"Can you get that?" she prompts Shayne, her voice light and teasing as he gives her a suspicious glance. They had ended up curled together on the couch again through the evening, after spending much of the day with Courtney moving around her apartment and trying to remember what normal is again. He reluctantly untangles himself from her embrace to wander over and answer the door, curious eyes remaining on her until he reaches it.

"Hi, I've got flowers for a Shayne Topp?" the delivery person tells him, holding a bright, warm bouquet in a textured golden-toned vase.

"Um- yeah, that's me," Shayne confirms, a little awkwardly, taking the vase handed to him and nodding a silent goodbye as the delivery person turns to walk back away from the door.

He carries the bouquet inside, twisting it slightly in his hands. It's beautiful, and the combination of bright yellows amongst warm orange and pastel-pink tones carries warmth and light into the room and, when he glances back to the couch to see Courtney looking at him with a faux-innocent smile, into his heart.

"What did you do?" he asks her, as he sets the vase on the coffee table and shifts back onto the sofa.

"Bought flowers, for you, obviously," she replies, voice melodic and warm as she continues, "and I think there's a card pinned to the edge of the vase there, actually."

"You're adorable. These are gorgeous," he tells her, leaning forward to gently prise the card off the vase without displacing any of the carefully-arranged flowers. He leans back against the couch and against her side as he opens and lets his eyes scan over the card.

"Thank you for everything, Shayne. I'm okay now because I have you by my side, and I want you there forever. And since you won't take my more subtle hints... move in with me? Love Courtney xx"

She feels nerves sit just below the surface as she watches him read the note, but they quickly dissipate when he looks up at her, the warmth and light of the flowers mirrored in his eyes. He sets the card back on the table, before his arms wrap her in an all-encompassing embrace and his head rests in the crook of her neck.

"Our apartment," he tells her, simply, feeling her turn and press a soft kiss against his temple in response.