An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
I forgot to post the link yesterday, and it wasn't an April fool's joke. I've finally managed to update this fic 😂
Fox is still coming to terms with everything to do with an arsonist being responsible for Thorn and Wolffe's injuries. He is still working up the nerve to go and speak to Thorn.
A hand squeezing his own made him jump out of his thoughts, Fox blinked to focus on the frowning face in front of him. Ven’Buir’s dark eyes were filled with concern as they focused on Fox’s face, he found he couldn’t meet Ven’Buir’s eyes and looked down at where their hands were still joined.
“Where did you go?” asked Ven’Buir.
“The past,” was all Fox said.
The hand moved from his own and tilted his chin upwards, so he had to meet Ven’Buir’s eyes. “Let me guess, it’s to do with Wolffe and Thorn.” Fox slowly nodded, his eyes starting to sting. “Fox’ika, what happened wasn’t-”
“I haven’t spoken to Thorn since we worked out he was hurt in a fire set by an arsonist,” Fox murmured his eyes drifting to the side. “Quin has had to speak to him already, so he knows. And I’ve just been a coward.”
“Fox’ika, Thorn won’t be angry with you,” Ven’Buir soothed, his hand coming up to rest on Fox’s curls. “He’ll understand.”