Beckett and Terry – The Favorite Aunt/sister and Her Hugest Fan

“Beckett,” a familiar, melodic voice rang out. He froze mid-stroke.

Turning slowly, he saw her: Terry, the eldest of the Bloodbriar siblings, radiant as ever even in casual clothes. Her presence always brought a burst of life into the manor, a sharp contrast to the shadows Beckett preferred.

“Hello, baby brother of mine,” she said warmly, her gaze landing on him. “I thought I’d drop by for a bit. Thought you might like a little lunch treat.”

Beckett nearly choked on his tea, nearly falling out of his chair in a flustered panic. He quickly adjusted his scarf, lowered his mask, and muttered behind the fabric, “I… uh… thank you, Terry.”

Terry laughed softly, a warm, teasing sound. “No need to be so stiff, Beckett. It’s just me. Come on, we’re going out—just a quiet lunch. Nothing crazy.”

Outside, the city streets buzzed, but Beckett stayed firmly in Terry’s shadow. He wasn’t used to leaving the manor, except with Diana and the twins, Peresphone and Hades. Terry, however, had insisted—gently but firmly—that he deserved a treat, a break from the walls he loved so dearly.

“So… this is… nice,” Beckett muttered, his voice soft, eyes darting between pedestrians and the bright world outside.

“You’re adorable when you’re nervous,” Terry said, smirking, nudging his shoulder playfully. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to embarrass you. You’re my favorite little fan, remember?”

Beckett’s blush was instantaneous. He sputtered, “I’m… not… I mean—I—”

“You’re my hugest fan, Beckett,” Terry interrupted, grinning. “Admit it. It’s fine.”

He hid behind his mask, muffling a laugh which to her was an admission, while Terry shook her head in amused exasperation.

The restaurant was quiet enough, mostly family-friendly, but Terry still managed to bring her vivacious energy into the space. Beckett sat stiffly, scarf in place, mask occasionally adjusted, glancing around nervously as Terry chatted freely about her latest modeling shoot, a fashion design sketch she was developing, and even a small acting cameo she was proud of.

“You’re pretty fucking amazing honestly, Terry,” Beckett whispered at one point, eyes wide behind his glasses. “I… really admire how you do everything and still… care about everyone.”

She reached across the table, lightly ruffling his hair. “That’s why I like having you around, Beckett. You keep me grounded. And honestly… you’re better company than half the people I meet on set.”

He smiled faintly, a quiet warmth spreading through him. “I… I’m glad you think that, Terry.”

Peresphone and Hades were perched on stools nearby, quietly observing, their stoic little faces unreadable. Every so often, one of them would glance at Beckett or Terry, and then back to their food, silently approving of the bond forming between the youngest sibling and the eldest aunt.

After lunch, Terry pulled out a small notebook from her bag.

“I thought you might like to help me pick colors for this new fashion sketch,” she said, sliding it across the table. “You’ve got… a really good eye, you know that?”

Beckett adjusted his scarf nervously, but leaned in. The two of them worked quietly, occasionally bumping shoulders, Terry teasing him when he hesitated too long over a shade, and Beckett letting his small, shy smiles betray just how thrilled he was to be included.

At one point, Terry nudged his mask down gently, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “There,” she said, smirking. “See? Not scary at all, is it?”

Beckett’s breath hitched slightly. “N-not at all… Misstress…”

Terry froze for a heartbeat, then laughed, shaking her head. “Mistress? Really? You’re supposed to call Diana that!”

“Just… habit,” Beckett muttered sheepishly. “She’s… my… Mistress. You know that.”

Terry grinned, finally understanding their dynamic. She leaned back, letting him blush freely. “Ah. That explains a lot. I get it now. I’ll stick to just calling you Beckett, then.”

When they returned to the manor, Diana was already waiting, the twins trailing behind her. Beckett adjusted his mask, scarf, and gloves automatically, and Diana gave him a soft, knowing smile. Terry bent down to greet the twins, exchanging hugs and affectionate teasing.

“You’re the favorite aunt,” Peresphone said matter-of-factly, “after Annalise.”

Hades nodded solemnly in agreement. “Yes.”

Terry winked. “I’ll take it.”

Later, in the quiet of the drawing room, Beckett and Terry shared a rare moment alone. She leaned over the tablet he’d been working on earlier, pointing out a subtle adjustment to his design. Beckett watched, fascinated by her focus, her grace, and her energy.

“You know,” Terry said softly, “I really do appreciate you, Beckett. You’re… reliable, creative, and completely… unshakable in a way I’ve never seen anywhere else.”

Beckett’s cheeks warmed. “I… thank you, Terry. That… means a lot.”

She leaned over him slightly, nudging his mask down with a quick peck to the cheek again. “See? Nothing to be scared of.”

He smiled behind the fabric, feeling more included, more appreciated, more seen than he had in a long time.

That evening, the family gathered in the dining room. Terry and Damien were present, the twins in their gothic attire, Diana in her black bathrobe black trackpants and Slayer t-shirt, and Beckett quietly nestled beside her, glancing up at Terry.

“Beckett,” Terry whispered, nudging him lightly, “you were perfect today. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

He smiled softly, his blush hidden behind his mask. “I… had… my biggest fan there to guide me,” he murmured, winking at her.

Diana, catching it, smirked and flicked his scarf playfully. “My Prince, always happy to oblige,” she whispered.

The dinner continued with laughter, teasing, and small affectionate gestures—the quiet hum of a family perfectly in tune. Beckett, normally reserved and reclusive, felt fully included. Terry, even with her busy extroverted life, had made the time, and he realized he had a true confidant, mentor, and favorite aunt.

And for the first time in a long while, Beckett felt that his little world of shadows and careful routines could expand without losing its perfection—as long as people like Diana, Terry, and the twins were there.

All was well.