The war was over, thanks to Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard, who had assassinated Chancellor Palpatine when the latter revealed himself to be the Sith Lord the Jedi had been searching for since the beginning of the war. A few well-placed blaster shots when the old man least expected it, and the war was over.
Coruscant had been in turmoil following these declarations and all that they implied, but things were beginning to calm down, and Bail Organa had been appointed Acting Chancellor pending new elections. Under his leadership, several decrees aiding postwar reconstruction were adopted. Among them was the decree establishing clones as sentient beings. All were now considered citizens of the Republic, and no longer its property. The GAR had been dissolved, and each clone was free to choose their own path. Many clones chose to remain affiliated with the Jedi, joining the various corps and participating in the postwar effort, helping to rebuild the populations and worlds affected by the war; but others had completely broken away from the Order, living their new lives as they saw fit.
Since the end of the war a few months ago, the Bad Batch has been carrying out various missions to help with the post-war reconstruction effort while also taking the time to explore the galaxy.
Today had started like any other day for Echo. He and the Bad Batch had returned to Coruscant at the end of their last mission, which had gone very well.
So far, nothing abnormal or unusual.
What was unusual was that Rex was waiting for him in the hangar. And then he borrowed him from the Batch and took him to the Jedi Temple saying that someone wanted to see him.
And it turns out that this someone was none other than Fives.
Fives, his twin, whom Echo believed to have been dead for over two years.
Fives, who apparently thought Echo was also dead.
Echo was completely lost. Fives had been shot, Rex had told him. Rex was there. Fives had died in Rex's arms, so how could Fives be here? At the Jedi Temple, very much alive, holding Echo tightly as if the cyborg would vanish if he let go for a moment?
Echo was not opposed to the program in itself, given that his grip on Fives was just as firm, but his mind was racing trying to make sense of the situation.
Nothing made sense. Nothing made sense except Fives in his arms and Rex around them, clutching his little brothers, his Domino twins, tightly against him. He too had thought he'd lost them, and now they were reunited, finally.
Without Echo really knowing how it had happened, he found himself on the sofa in Fives' apartment, his brother still in his arms.
Rex must have slipped away at some point since he was no longer with them, but Echo didn't know when it had happened either.
Echo had finally managed to convince himself that Fives was really there, alive, in his arms, so now he had a thousand questions. “Fives?” He called softly, running his hand through his brother's hair.
“Hm? If your next words are to suggest I move from here, my answer is no. I thought I'd lost you forever, Echo… I- I never want to let you go again.”
Echo stifled a wet laugh before continuing. “I don’t want us to separate either.” He quickly assured. “It’s just… I don’t understand, Fives, I thought you were dead…”
"And I thought you were dead." Fives retorted.
"How did you survive a blaster shot to the chest?" Echo asked.
“And how did you survive such an explosion?”
"I asked the question first!" Echo exclaimed indignantly.
"And you ‘died’ before me, so you have to answer first!" Fives replied, finally raising his head to send a playful smile to his brother, even though Echo could see all his pain and sorrow behind this laughing facade.
Echo sighed and didn't reply right away.
Fives shifted slightly, straightening up to look at his brother. He grasped Echo's left hand in his own, and only then did he seem to realize Echo was missing his right hand. Fives examined his brother more closely and realized Echo appeared to be in very bad shape. He obviously couldn't see everything through his brother's clothes, but the shape of his legs was too strange to be anything but bionic. His skin was very pale, in a sickly manner, and he was too thin.
"By the Force, what happened to you, Eyayah?" Fives murmured, devastated.
Just hearing that nickname, which no one but Fives ever used to call him, was almost enough to make Echo cry again, but he managed to hold it back. The tears had had their moment; now it was time for explanations. And Fives seemed determined to hear Echo's before sharing his own.
"A lot of really shitty stuff." Echo scoffed sadly.
"Tell me everything. I want to know everything." Fives insisted.
Then Echo told him everything. How he had survived the explosion of the Citadel. How he had been picked up by the Separatists and barely kept alive. How he had been sold to the Techno Union. How he had been tortured for information about Republic strategies. How he had resisted. How he had held on. How he hadn't given up until Wat Tambor found a way to literally hack his brain. How he had tried to keep resisting. How, when Echo had lost all hope of ever escaping that hellhole, Rex and the Bad Batch had arrived to rescue him. How he had helped the Republic win the Battle of Anaxes. How he had joined the Bad Batch after the rather negative reaction from some vode. How he had continued to participate in the war effort alongside the Bad Batch.
Throughout his story, Echo did not try to hide how much his life had changed, but he also did not dwell too long on all the new challenges he had to face with this new, deeply wounded, changed, and faulty body.
Fives wanted to ask. He wanted to ask how far his right arm was bionic. He wanted to ask if any part of his legs was still flesh. He wanted to ask about the hard metal he'd felt on his brother's chest, through his clothes. He wanted to know everything about that internal computer, and he wanted to ask what the helmet-like thing Echo wore was for.
But it wasn't the right time. Echo had already shared a lot, and Fives didn't want to overwhelm him. Besides, the war was over; they had all the time in the world to discuss everything.
"I'm sorry, Echo." Fives said softly, rather than asking him questions.
Echo frowned. “Sorry for what?”
He really hoped Fives wasn't going to come out with some stupid line like "sorry I didn't come looking for you sooner" or something like that. Rex already felt bad enough about it, even though Echo had told him more times than he could count that none of it was his fault, that he had no way of knowing Echo was still alive, and no reason to believe Echo had survived the explosion on Lola Sayu.
But once again, Fives surprised him.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you get through this hell.” Fives apologized. “Even if you only hint at it and I don’t know everything, I can see how difficult all of this has been, and still is, for you. So I’m sorry I wasn’t there sooner, little brother.”
“You were dead, Fives, there was nothing you could have done. I missed you terribly, and every night, when I was saying my remembrances, I said your name, I thought of you, and I wished you were here with me, of course. But I never blamed you. For anything. Even before I learned how you died, I knew you would never have left without a good reason. I knew you fought to the very end, and that's all I could ask of you. So don't apologize for leaving me behind; I knew you didn't mean to.”
"I missed you too, Eyayah." Fives whispered, his voice breaking. "And I, too, honored you in my remembrances."
“I know.” Echo smiled gently. “And even though I missed you a lot, I assure you I wasn’t alone. Rex was there, of course, as were Jesse and Kix, and let’s not forget Hunter, Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair. Joining the Bad Batch really helped me get back on my feet.”
“Are they cool?” Fives asked with a tentative smile.
“More than cool. I'm really looking forward to introducing you.” Echo confirmed, visibly excited.
“If they are as good as you say, I would like to meet them too.”
Echo nodded and they remained silent for a short while before he continued. “Fives… You were dead. What happened to you? How… Why?”
Fives sighed. He didn't like talking about it, but Echo had just told him everything that had happened to him. The least Fives could do was do the same. He started with “Did Rex tell you how I died?”
“Blaster shot to the chest. Fired by Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard because you tried to assassinate the Chancellor. Which was stupid, by the way. Even if he turned out to be the Sith, you don't go alone against someone of his stature.”
Fives grimaced. “I admit it wasn't my brightest idea. But in my defense, I was really drugged up and I had just discovered that we all have a chip in our heads that can turn us into robots at any moment, and that the one who controls these chips is the same person who has been leading both sides of the war from the beginning, namely the Sith Lord, Chancellor Palpatine.”
“Let’s just say that since you survived, I’ll forgive your lapse in judgment. But how did you survive? Rex… You died in his arms; he wouldn’t have left you for dead. Unless he knew from the start that you were alive and lied to me the whole time.” Echo added, hurt and betrayed.
"No!" Fives quickly corrected. "No, Rex didn't know. He only found out I survived like, a week ago. It wasn't safe before then."
“Why didn't he tell me before? Why wait?”
“I… I honestly don't know. I didn't even know you were alive, Ey'ika. If I had known, I would have found a way to tell you something as soon as possible.”
Echo frowned, not really satisfied with the question. “Well, I'll have to talk to Rex about that. But that doesn't answer my question. How on the Force did you survive a blaster shot to the chest? And don't tell me Fox, Commander Fox, missed his shot."
“Fox didn’t miss.” Fives confirmed. “But he had his doubts about the Chancellor even before I discovered the truth about the chips. So when I showed up saying exactly that, he suspected I’d uncovered something big and important. So he made me disappear so he could interrogate me. He did shoot me, and it did look like a standard blaster, but it was actually a modified weapon. I don’t remember all the details, but instead of killing me, the shot injected me with a synthetic substance that temporarily stopped my heart, and instead of dying, I fell into a kind of deep coma. I really felt like I was dying, though, and I remember those last moments in Rex’s arms…”
Echo grimaced, imagining what Rex must have felt. But Fives hadn't finished his story, so he refocused. He could think about their big brother of a Captain later.
“When I woke up several weeks later, it took me a while to understand and accept that I wasn’t dead.”
"Several weeks?" Echo exclaimed. "That's a hell of a drug if it puts you in a near-death state for several weeks."
"Actually, Fox's shot was only supposed to knock me out for a few hours, two days at most. But when the Corries developed this stuff, they hadn't considered the effects it could have if combined with other drugs. And Fox couldn't have known what the Kaminoans had injected me with either. Let's just say the drug mix didn't have the best effect on me, and my heart wasn't a big fan. To put it simply, I almost died because my heart wouldn't restart. And when it did restart, it would last an hour at most before stopping again. For a few days, no one was really sure they'd be able to stabilize me."
“But they did? I mean, you seem to have a heart that's working pretty well right now, so they must have managed to do something.”
"Oh yes, they finally put a battery in my chest that tells my heart when to beat because this idiot is too lazy to do it himself." Fives announced, deliberately using a light tone to try and defuse the situation.
“So you have a pacemaker?” Echo asked to be sure.
“Something like that, yeah. It works pretty well, but the medics made it very clear that my heart remained weak and that I shouldn't push myself too hard if I didn't want it to stop for good.”
Clearly, from the way Fives spoke, Echo could see that it weighed heavily on him. And rather than feeling sorry for his brother, Echo chose to lighten the mood with a bit of humor. "At least only your heart needs instructions to do your job." He said with a slight smile.
Fives raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“My own lungs can no longer breathe on their own. My heart does the Macarena if it's left unattended. My stomach has decided that working part-time is enough. My intestines are also intermittently on strike, and my rectum and bladder have resigned and don't plan on coming back.”
Echo had said all this in a joking tone, hoping to lighten the mood, but when he saw Fives' face fall and his twin turn even paler, he thought it wasn't such a good idea after all. "Hey, hey, I'm fine." He tried.
Fives was horrified. “You just gave me a horrifying list of everything that proves you're not fine!”
"When you put it like that, it sounds very impressive and quite alarming, but I promise you I'm okay. It was complicated at first, but I'm used to it now, and I'm much better than when the guys picked me up in Skako Minor. I assure you that, despite the fact that I'm proportionally more metal than flesh, I'm doing as well as can be." Echo assured him with a reassuring smile.
Fives didn't reply, and clearly, he wasn't convinced. So Echo opened his arms and pulled Fives close again. Fives didn't resist at all and snuggled into his brother's arms, trying to reassure himself that he was as well as he said he was.
"I'm okay." Echo repeated again. "I'm fine, and you're fine. We're fine, and we're together again. The war is over, the Republic is free, and we finally have rights. Everything is good. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to be okay, I promise."
Fives did not respond, content to absorb his sibling’s comfort.
The two twins remained like that, in each other's arms for quite some time before knocks on the door disturbed them. "My brother has returned from the dead, I'm busy!" Fives replied, loud enough to be heard from the other side of the door, without moving an inch from Echo.
Echo shook his head, amused.
"I'm the one who brought your brother back to you, Fives, I know exactly what you're doing." Rex replied from the other side of the door.
Fives sighed deeply but sat up a little, still remaining seated next to Echo, keeping his hand in his.
"Come in, Rex." Echo called.
The door opened and their older brother quickly entered the apartment, closing the door behind him, smiling gently as he saw Echo and Fives practically in each other's arms. "Are you both alright?" He asked.
He knew it would be a shock for both of them to see each other again when they both believed the other had been dead for a long time, but he also knew it would do them good.
“We're fine.” Echo confirmed. “But I actually have a few questions for you.”
“I suspected as much and would be happy to answer, but before that, I wanted to know if you were ready for another surprise.”
"Rex, I just learned that my favorite person in the entire galaxy is not dead at all and is in relatively good health." Fives explained with a broad smile. "You can surprise me any way you like."
Rex nodded and looked at Echo for his answer before doing anything.
"You know that with the Bad Batch, I'm always ready for anything. Even learning that a blaster shot to the chest wasn't enough to get rid of my beloved twin. Bring it on."
Rex ignored Fives' indignant "Hey!" and went back to the door, opening it again. "You guys can cam in now.”
Neither Echo nor Fives had time to ask any questions before three men, three clones, entered the apartment, with Rex bringing up the rear.
The first vod had large scars across his face, including one clearly blind eye, he had a blue cane and from the way he stood it was clear that at least part of his right leg was artificial.
The second man seemed mostly unharmed, except for his right arm that hung limply at his side, seemingly without any control.
The last clone was in a wheelchair, burn scars adorned the right side of his face and neck, and his right arm was missing.
But all of that was just details because, as impossible as the situation might have seemed, Echo and Fives recognized these three vode almost immediately.
Echo was frozen in place, so Fives took charge of the checks.
"Cutup?" He asked, looking at the one with the scars and the cane.
Cutup, since it was indeed him, responded with a dazzling smile that stretched over his scars.
“DB?” Fives continued, addressing the one with the dangling arm.
"Hi Fives." DB replied with a shy smile and a small gesture of his left hand.
"Hevy?" He finished, lowering his eyes slightly to meet the gaze of the seated clone.
"Hey, little brother." Hevy confirmed, with a reassuring yet sad expression.
“What? How is that possible? You are-”
“Dead?” DB suggested.
“Yes!”
"Oh, you know, death is overrated." Cutup Shrugged. "Look at you, you weren't dead for very long either.”
Fives opened his mouth to reply with something when a small whimper beside him attracted the attention of all the men present.
Echo was still frozen in place, but silent tears were streaming down his cheeks. His eyes darted quickly back and forth between the three newcomers, Fives and Rex.
"Hey, Echo…" Fives began, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.
Echo flinched and recoiled abruptly, his eyes wide and panicked.
Not really understanding his brother's reaction but recognizing his panicked look, Fives did not try to touch him again but frowned. “Echo…” He said softly, at lost about what to do.
He received only another flinch in response, and as Fives searched for what to say, Rex stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Fives' shoulder before walking around him and standing in front of Echo, blocking the rest of his room and its occupants from his view. "Echo, look at me." Rex ordered, using his Captain's voice.
Echo's wide, still panicked eyes came to rest somewhere on Rex's forehead, Echo unable to look his older brother in the eyes at that moment. Rex would be content with that.
"Talk to me." The blond man then asked.
"Am I dreaming?" Echo whispered, sounding terrified and hopeful at the same time.
"You're not dreaming." Rex assured. "It's all real. They're all real, and alive."
"But how?" Echo whimpered. "They were dead—I was the last one, and then… How?"
"It would seem that death doesn't have much success with the Dominoes." Rex replied with a small, proud smile.
Echo remained focused on Rex for a moment before taking as deep a breath as he physically could and finally turning his head to face the other four men.
He moved on from Fives fairly quickly, given that he had had enough time to convince himself that his twin was real and had survived.
Hevy, Cutup, and DB hadn't moved from their spots and seemed to be waiting patiently, yet anxiously, for Echo to decide whether they were real or not. All three of them, along with Fives, desperately wanted to convince their brother that they were really there, really alive, but they knew Echo. They knew he needed time to reach his own conclusions.
Echo first stopped on Cutup. "You were eaten by a giant eel." He pointed.
Cutup shrugged. "She didn't really chew. And I wasn't good enough for her, so she ended up spitting me out. She kept my leg to use as a toothpick, though." He added with a chuckle, pointing to his right leg.
Echo made something that looked as much like a grimace as a smile before switching to DB.
“You got shot.”
"Fives too." DB retorted. "The shot wrecked my shoulder and knocked me out. The clankers thought I was dead and put me with the others."
This time, Echo grimaced completely but didn't dwell on it too much and concentrated on Hevy, who was patiently waiting his turn. “You got blown up. How the kriff did you survive an explosion like that?”
Fives stifled a snicker and Rex concealed a laugh with a forced cough, but they didn't need to say anything; Hevy took care of it. "Do you really want to talk about how to survive explosions like that?" Hevy asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I don't think you're in a position to lecture me on that, Ey’ika."
Echo grimaced again, but he had to admit that his brother had a point.
Echo looked again at each of his brothers who had returned from the dead. "Are you all really here?" He asked, seeming not to believe it but full of hope.
"We're really here, Echo." Cutup assured. "Sorry for leaving you alone for so long, but we're here.”
"And that goes for you too, Fives." Hevy continued. "For a while, you too thought you were the last Domino. I'm sorry you had to endure that alone for so long. And I know you weren't truly alone and that you found other brothers within your battalion, but it's not the same."
“No.” Fives confirmed. “It’s not the same thing. I love my brothers in the 501st, that’s not the point. But they’re not the idiots I grew up with and left Kamino with.” He finished, half-throwing himself into Hevy’s arms.
Hevy obviously caught his little brother against him, even though the position was strange.
Echo, Cutup and DB soon joined them and in a short time, the 5 Dominos were in a pile, one in each other's arms.
"Wait, this isn't really a comfortable position." Hevy said after a few dozen seconds.
"Don't care." The other four replied in unison.
Hevy let out a burst of laughter before continuing. “If you can manage to unstick yourself for 30 seconds, I can transfer to the sofa and we can pick up where we left off. Fives' sofa is big enough for the five of us.”
Although it was reluctantly and with grumbling, the four youngest could not refute their older brother's logic and sat up one by one.
Hevy then moved closer to the sofa, stopping his wheelchair right next to it and began to wiggle on the seat to get closer to the edge of the chair.
"Can I carry you to put you on the sofa?" Fives asked, wanting to help his brother.
But before Hevy could even open his mouth, Rex intervened.
"No." The Captain immediately opposed in a stern voice. "The only one here who is potentially capable of carrying anyone is me."
The Dominos clearly disagreed and it showed in their faces, so Rex sighed and looked each one in the eyes.
“Cutup, your right leg isn't stable enough for you to carry the weight of an adult clone. DB, you only have one functional arm. Fives, you're forbidden from lifting heavy loads if you don't want to risk cardiac arrest. And Echo, a combination of the three previous reasons. So I repeat, the only one here who could carry anyone is me, the one who still has two arms, two legs, and a healthy heart.”
"Okay, fine, no need to show off." Fives mumbled.
Rex chose to ignore him.
“So Hevy, if you need help transferring, I'll gladly help you, but there's no way one of these idiots is going to get hurt or put themselves in danger for this.”
"I like you, Captain." Was all Hevy said, having initially opened his mouth to lecture Fives in much the same way. "And I'd appreciate a hand, thanks. Technically, I know how to do it alone, but I don't want to mess up and end up on the ground; that would panic more than a few people." He added, giving his younger brothers a sly smile.
DB leaned towards Echo to whisper something to his in a very indiscreet manner. “You have no idea how scary it is to just see him collapse on the ground like that.”
"I can imagine." Echo grimaced.
Rex paid no attention to the discussion between the two younger ones and moved closer to Hevy, following his instructions to help him transfer onto Fives' sofa.
And as soon as Hevy was settled, he was invaded again by his brothers, with Echo coming to snuggle to his left, seeming to want to curl up against him but hesitating.
"Come here, Eyayah." Hevy called, putting his left arm around Echo's shoulders.
“I'm not comfortable.” Echo shook his head, biting his lower lip. “I've got metal sticking out everywhere.”
"And it's all of you, including the bits of metal, that I want to hug." Hevy replied immediately. "Come here."
Echo didn't need much prompting and came to rest his head against Hevy's shoulder, gradually relaxing and slumping against his brother as he did so.
The other 3 soon joined them, Fives settling on the other side of Echo and Cutup on the other side of Fives, DB coming to position himself on Hevy’s other side.
All five of them wriggled around for a little while to find a comfortable position and finally settled down in a cuddle pile.
Rex, observing the whole scene, couldn't help but smile softly and proudly. He was also relieved to know that these incredible men had finally been reunited with their families.
"And there you have it, a complete set of Dominoes." He said quietly.
The 5 brothers gave him a smile and Rex couldn't resist the urge to take a holo.
"Rex..." Echo complained, rolling his eyes.
"Can you send it to me?" Cutup asked without wasting any time.
Rex nodded and tapped his comm for a few seconds, sending the photo to the five brothers in front of him. Several comms rang simultaneously, but none of the men moved from their seats to look.
“Well then, gentlemen, I'll leave you to your own devices. Don't hesitate to call me if you need anything; I'll be around for the rest of the day.”
"Thank you, ori'vod." Echo sincerely thanked, feeling happier and more at peace than he had in a long time. "Thank you for giving me back my brothers."
"The pleasure is all mine, vod'ika." Rex assured them before leaving the Dominos to their own devices.
Each of these five men had experienced unimaginable horrors and had suffered greatly from the loss of their brothers; he was happy and relieved to know they were reunited. As he had said, they were now a complete set of dominoes, and no longer just a few stray pieces.
Fic O'Ween Day 11: Monster--or, What You Have, What You Hate (Logan's Version). Everyone's favorite dead horse is back, babey. Kudos to @noots-fic-fests for their hard work and @lumosinlove for these characters (and an outstanding Vaincre update today) .
TW memory loss, hospitals
Sunlight yawned over the horizon. Logan ticked another day in his head. 52 hours. Nearly a new record. The last time he didn’t sleep for two days, he and Finn had just finished playing Yale.
At least the apartment smelled better than their dorm had. Leave it to Leo and Finn’s monthly Target dates to find the best candles.
His head hurt. His chest hurt. Even his fucking eyes hurt, like he had kept them open after diving into the lake. It was a miserable way to feel in an otherwise perfect place—but then again, very little had been perfect recently.
Leo stirred in the curve of his body, not much more than a twitch. He hadn’t been sleeping well, either. Finn was the only one able to keep his eyes closed for longer than an hour (if that) and even he was quiet during the day. Dawn caught their phone screens as it filtered through the sliver of the blinds, all lined up on the nightstand with ringers turned to the highest setting. Just in case.
Logan blinked hard and pressed back into Finn. He needed to feel something solid; needed to feel Finn shift, his arm tightening around Logan’s waist. Something between his lungs throbbed with blunt pain.
“We should visit today.”
Leo’s voice was dull and coarse. Logan nodded into the nape of his neck.
“I want—” He broke off with an audible swallow. “I want to check on him.”
Sirius had woken for nearly twenty minutes the day before. James had been there, and Remus, of course. Logan wasn’t sure they had left yet. Remus certainly hadn’t looked like it. But their excitement was momentary at best when Sirius’ sleepy greetings turned incoherent, and he slipped back under for the rest of the day. Logan shook the whole way home.
“D’accord,” he murmured, tucking his knees into the hollow of Leo’s own. His belly was tense under Logan’s palm; he rubbed slow circles over it and kissed the curve of Leo’s neck. “We’ll go.”
Finn’s alarm went off at eight. They let it ring itself out. Nine minutes passed and it went again, a cheerful jangle that faded into silence. Slender fingers curled up against Logan’s collarbone. Finn’s cheek was flat on his shoulder blade, shaky breaths passing warm air over his skin. He let go for less than a minute. The alarm didn’t ring again.
Leo had the courage to check his email at nine and Logan half-read it over his shoulder, little blue dots disappearing unread into “[Gmail] Trash” under a thumb with the nail chewed down to the quick. He kissed the little-dipper trail of faint freckles up Leo’s shoulder and nudged at his wrist until he set the phone down with a tired smile and allowed Logan to coax him onto his belly, shifting closer. His cheek was pillow-creased when he turned. They looked at each other for a few seconds before Logan passed his thumbpad along Leo’s cheekbone, and blue eyes fell shut.
They didn’t get out of bed until ten o’clock. Breakfast was a quiet affair despite the radio and the sizzle of the stove. “Someone should text Remus,” Leo said as he passed eggs to Logan to crack. “See if he needs anything.”
Logan fought a wince. Sleep. Therapy. For someone to physically remove him from that place. According to James, they had only just managed to make him take a walk around the upper floor of the hospital. He’d been sleeping in a chair. Logan hadn’t pressed for more information, and the guilt gnawed at his ribs. “We can bring…sandwiches. Or something. Maybe books? A change of clothes?”
“Toothbrush,” Leo suggested, prodding at the scrambled eggs. “That might be nice.”
Logan carefully sliced another section of the green onion before speaking. “James brought his toothbrush. And a hoodie, I think. I can ask what they need.”
“Are they letting him stay?”
“Loops?”
“James.”
“Non, only immediate family.”
“I’m so glad they got married.”
Logan turned and saw Leo do the same. Finn was rinsing his fingertips under the faucet, but nothing in his face told Logan he was paying any attention to it. The purple under his eyes was nearly mauve in this light. “Me, too,” Leo said softly.
“Just—can you imagine?” Finn cleared his throat, shutting the water off. “I mean, Loops would be losing it. Immediate family. I wonder if they’d call…y’know.”
Logan wasn’t going to think about that. He had been trying very, very hard not to think about that for nearly three days, now. None of them needed monsters under the bed when the real thing was bad enough on its own.
“Well, they didn’t,” Logan said briskly. The handle of the knife dug into his hand; he forced it into steadiness and moved the next handful of onion over. At the stove, Leo’s shoulders were tight up near his ears. “And we’ll go see him, and it’ll be fine.”
Sirius?
Hmm-mmm.
Buddy, can you hear me? It’s James.
Bonjour.
Tremz, call the nurse in real quick—hey, keep your eyes open. How are you feeling?
Mmm. Bon. Head hurts. Remus?
I’m here, I’m right here.
Tiny green shreds sprinkled onto their eggs, bright and clean. A ‘thanks, cher’ painted onto his temple by a kiss.
Alright, Mr. Black, let’s take a look at that forehead.
Non.
Is it hurting?
Game day. Pick up Reg from practice.
Mr. Black, please try to stay awake.
Baby, just listen—
Gotta pick him up. Reg’s practice.
“You want bacon?”
Logan blinked down at the plates. It all looked beautiful, like his mother’s wax fruit in the living room back home. “Sounds great.” He kissed Leo’s shoulder and dusted the last bit of green onion onto Finn’s portion. “Merci. I’ll get forks.”
A little shiver ran through Leo. He tucked his arms across his body, as if the apartment wasn’t set to seventy-five degrees year-round, but smiled down at Logan all the same. “Thanks.”
“Are you cold?”
“Nah, not really.”
Footsteps padded over and then Finn was there, tugging his sweatshirt off and slipping it over Leo’s head. If nothing else, it got a laugh out of him. Weak—but there. Finn’s glasses sat sideways on his face and Logan poked them back into place with a gentle swipe down the razor-straight bridge of his nose. “I made cocoa,” he said, raspier than Logan was accustomed to this late in the morning. “I’m not really—it’s not a coffee morning, I guess, but if you want some I can—”
His mouth fell quiet against the inside of Leo’s shoulder, muffled by his own hoodie. Logan saw his chest lurch in Leo’s tight hold. He felt a little dumb attempting to wrap his arms around them both and cursed his proportions for the hundredth time, but neither seemed to mind. Leo was still trembling just slightly. Finn was board-stiff; his hand came up and twisted in the pocket of Logan’s pajama pants to draw him close.
It wasn’t right, it wasn’t fair, and Logan was trying so hard to be angry.
Leo gave a light cough. “I’m really fucking scared.”
That first night, Logan had fallen asleep praying he would wake in his bed in Rimouski, buried under the heavy blue duvet he had stolen from Aubrey when she redecorated her room on her 13th birthday. It was old and soft and safe and lightly scented with the lavender soap their grandmother mailed from Nice every month. But his stomach had rioted at the thought of waking alone, the last ten years a dream. As horrible as this was, as sick as he felt, God would have to pry this from his cold dead hands before he gave it up. He wished he knew how to tell them that.
Finn was hot at the nape when Logan leaned against him. “We’ll eat,” he suggested, tracing a loose heart over Leo’s mid-back. “Breakfast looks amazing. We’ll shower. I’ll call James. They’re not going anywhere.”
“…I don’t want to get my hair wet,” Finn said quietly.
“I want to take a bath,” Leo murmured into the top of his head. “You can come with me.”
Finn nodded, then swallowed hard. “I don’t want him to wake up alone.”
“He won’t,” Logan said. When Finn didn’t show a sign of hearing him, he nibbled at the curve of his shoulder; a smile twitched his lips. “Hey. Hey. He’s got half the team there already. We’ll bring sandwiches and be popular, d’accord?”
“You need to be muzzled.”
“That sounds fun.”
Finn snorted, pushing at him without taking his face from the sanctuary of Leo’s chest. “Get outta here.”
“Come eat before the food gets cold.” Disregard that nothing sounded worse than eating right now. They had bigger things to worry about, and none of it would be made better on an empty stomach. But maybe, maybe they’d have a kinder day. And maybe Sirius would wake up for real this time. They just had to take it in stages, one baby step at a time.
One. Leo and Finn took a bath.
Two. Logan scrubbed the breakfast dishes.
Three. He tucked Leo close and tight to himself while they put the lunch order in on the couch.
Four. His kiss to Finn’s cheek lingered before his hand came anywhere close to the passenger side door.
Five. Remus was on the floor.
Sirius’ door was closed, and Remus was on the floor.
Logan pushed the takeout bag into Olli’s hands and broke into a run.
“What happened?” His knees smarted on contact with the tiles. Dumo was slackjawed and Remus was fucking white. “Loops? Is he okay? Did something go wrong?”
He’s gone, he’s gone, we lost him.
Someone was speaking, Leo was speaking, Remus was staring into the void like the world had fallen out from under him. His arm was loose and weak under Logan’s hand; he eased his grip and watched Remus’ throat bob. A breathless gasp broke from him before any words. “He doesn’t love me anymore.”
“No, Remus, that’s not…” Dumo looked exhausted. Sounded exhausted. Logan could feel himself beginning to shake, deep in his core where the fear snapped and burned. Deep brown eyes slid over the group before fixing Logan to the scrap of a planet beneath him. “Sirius is alright,” Dumo said firmly. “He’s awake and Pots is with him right now.”
Then why are we all on the fucking floor? he wanted to shout. The burning raced up Logan’s throat and into his eyes. “I don’t believe you.”
For all that Logan’s terror blinded him, Dumo didn’t look well, either. “We don’t know the full story, but—”
Nonsense bumbled from Remus’ mouth. His eyes had slipped to the pale tile, pupils dilated, a hundred years away. An exhale rattled in him like a sob chained down. “Five percent. They told me five percent.”
Logan swayed. A hand steadied him when he sat back. Dumo hadtold him about the five percent. Five percent had been hooked in the back of his mind for 60 hours and shaken him from half-waking dreams. But five percent was nothing—was practically zero. Five percent was a liability figure told to prevent a lawsuit, nothing more.
Remus was lifted to his feet, barely, and Logan watched him sit hard in one of the stiff chairs. No tears striped his ashen face. Beside him, Dumo was blinking fast. Olli passed him a napkin from the paper bag Logan had picked up not fifteen minutes ago from the place Remus liked because they had soft-serve ice cream. The place Sirius liked because Remus liked it.
He wasn’t sure if he could get up, now. It seemed he had left his knees at the cashier’s counter by mistake.
“Lo.”
A funny noise escaped him at pressure on his back.
“Lo, baby, come up with me. Come on.”
Thomas was holding Remus around the shoulders. His mouth turned down at the sides while they spoke in low voices.
Logan couldn’t help himself. “Did we lose him?”
“No,” Finn said immediately, voice dropping hoarse. “God, Logan, no, we didn’t lose him.”
“Five percent chance of severe memory loss.” That first night had been so long and so hard. He had stammered his way through a call with his father, though he couldn’t remember a word they exchanged. He knew he had stayed plastered to Dumo’s side for hours while Sirius went through scan after scan, fast asleep. Finn let him push close, let him pretend he could hide in the hollow of his arm. “We lost him.”
It was audacious to claim any part of his pain alongside whatever Sirius must be feeling—whatever Remus must be feeling. Logan couldn’t help it. The chasm of his belly beat not fair! into his guts. Sirius had done nothing wrong. He didn’t deserve five percent.
“I want to go back to bed,” he mumbled.
Finn’s hand rubbed along his back. “Okay. We can do that. We’ll get up, we’ll go home—”
“I want to wake up right now.”
“Oh. Oh, Lo…”
“This is not supposed to happen.” Tears clumped on his lashes. He refused to let them fall. He had no right. “This is not. He has to be okay.”
“Pots is with him.” Finn brought him close, and shame burbled up at the way Logan clutched him all too tight. They shouldn’t be doing this with Remus right there. “Cap’s got a lot of good people looking out for him right now. Nobody better. And I have you, and we’ve got Knutty, and we’re just going to take a minute for everyone to calm down.”
Finn was using his storybook voice. Hills and valleys, nearly singsong. It set some part of Logan’s brain mute with old comfort. “I need—I need to help.” His throat scraped when he breathed. “I need to get up or I’m going to stay here for a really long time.”
“I know.” Of course he did. Finn always knew what Logan wanted before Logan did. Drinks, food, kisses. This. He was already braced against Logan to boost him up, for Christ’s sake.
If Logan gave him double that love in return, it still wouldn’t be enough. Not for Finn, who deserved all and more. He wanted to pack him up in softness and seal it with a kiss, keep him somewhere safe and kind forever. They stood together—only a little wobble before he righted himself. Leo had pushed a sandwich into Thomas’ hands and was trying to shepherd the others into it as well. He didn’t like the tension creeping up the back of Leo’s neck.
Remus was still staring at the door as if he’d seen a ghost. Logan didn’t want to go in there. He caused damage. He was shit at fixing it.
He really wanted to be angry at this.
“Please eat.” Leo’s voice was tight and pitched at the start, forced into his measured baritone. His nailbed was white where it pressed into thin wax paper; Logan made a silent note to get him some water from the fountain down the hall.
“Hmm?” Dumo blinked a few times, then startled, as if he hadn’t seen Leo there. His gaze slid from Leo’s face to the sandwich, and he took it with a wan smile. “Ah. Merci.”
He picked at the sticker sealing it, but that was all. Logan had spent too much time around the man day in and day out to be fooled into thinking he was anywhere on this plane right now. Distant eyes and tight wrists. A rigid back, like when they thought Marc broke a rib at hockey practice. Logan wondered if Remus could hear his mind whirring from the adjacent chair.
“Loops.”
Thick gray sleeves sheltered his mouth from view.
“Remus.”
Without the vibrant red letters, the lack of color washed him out. Thomas’ deep blue shirt was harsh next to Remus’ grayscale.
“Re,” Thomas tried again, nudging him ever so gently. Remus made a faint noise. “Hey, you want a sandwich?”
“Not hungry.”
Leo’s brows pitched in the middle—Logan wanted to smooth it away, to kiss it into the ether. Distress was a difficult thing to watch on Leo’s round face. “You need to eat,” Thomas said. He took the proffered sandwich with a quick squeeze of Leo’s forearm, and slid it into the space between Remus’ thighs and body. “Whenever you’re ready, just…we’re here.”
“You should go,” Remus murmured into his forearms.
“No.”
“He’s awake. Not much to do now.”
“No.”
“I don’t—” His voice caught and Logan felt his stomach plummet. Not now, not now. “There’s not a lot to do here. The nurses’ll take care of him.”
“We’re here to take care of you, too,” Thomas said quietly.
Remus closed his eyes.
“Ouais,” Logan managed. Finn’s arm pulsed around his waist; he cleared his throat, willing the clamminess from his palms. “Both of you—yeah, whatever you need.”
It had been such a fucking fight during those first terrible hours. Nearly midnight, and still no answers. Adrenaline and exhaustion, scraps of illness battling with the raging fire inside him while every door slammed in his face with a no, no, family only, I’m sorry. Watching them roll Sirius to a scan room. Leaving Remus and his shaky, feeble smile under the scathing fluorescents. Come back tomorrow. I’m sure someone will call you with an update. It didn’t matter that Sirius would have wanted him there.
Well—that was debatable. Sirius probably would have preferred to pass out in some quiet, dark corner and pick himself up without anyone knowing. But Logan had never let him do that before, and he wasn’t about to start now. Goddamn martyr. If it wasn’t for Leo’s quaking grip on his hand, he would have bulldozed past every too-bright white coat in the place and planted himself at Sirius’ bedside just like Remus had been allowed to. He was always there for Sirius. It wasn’t fair to keep him away because of a silly thing like blood relation.
Leo tucked his phone into his back pocket. “Visiting hours start in twenty minutes.”
A silent request filled with bare-rock hope. Logan took the empty chair and cupped his hand over the back of Leo’s. “I’d like to see him,” he offered. He hoped his meaning came through—I’m here. I love you. I’m here because I love you.
The hand beneath his own turned over and twined their fingers, pale and straight against his own fucked-up knuckles. His hands looked so blunt when they were together. Let alone when Finn, all willowy strength, toyed with his fingers. It was like comparing a sledgehammer to a harpist.
Twenty minutes was a long time to ask Finn to sit still. He may have been more staid than usual, but that didn’t stop him from popping up and down no less than four times for water, trash runs, and to check in with the nurses.
More than once, it was clear he was moving just to move. Logan couldn’t blame him. He needed stillness and silence to process, but the flowing magnitude of Finn’s heart wasn’t meant to sit quietly. He had always hated that part of his concussions the most: more than being benched, more than fear, more than the blinding pain Logan had dampened with his shirtsleeve too many times. If his body couldn’t move, his brain had to, and he was denied both in those dark rooms. Logan had always done his best to ease the strain in whatever way he could. He’d pour himself to drought if it would cool the fire under Finn’s skin.
“Lo?”
Leo had scooted closer on his chair, mere inches from sitting in Logan’s lap. He wouldn’t mind that. Closeness sounded good right now. Logan smoothed the ladder of his knuckles. “Quoi?”
“I…” Leo broke off with a slow exhale through his nose. “I don’t know how to do this.”
Was he looking for a lie? The truth? Was he looking for don’t worry, I know what I’m doing or I keep thinking I’ll blink and find Sydney in there with her appendix gone? Logan figured he had fumbled pretty hard this morning. I’m really fucking scared. He still didn’t know how to respond to that. Maybe this could be his second chance. Leo was so good at giving those.
He shifted over and let Leo lay his head on his shoulder, resting his own against golden chick-fluff curls. Words rolled between his teeth and over his tongue for a long moment. “I don’t either,” he said haltingly. Finn probably would have sounded more confident. “This is new. C’est horrible. I’m—this is horrible. It’s so horrible.”
Remus and Thomas were making their way down the hallway to the lobby. Something about a phone call, Logan thought. To Lily, or Remus’ parents. It was just good to see them standing. Leo sniffled.
He ducked his head and let his lips rest against Leo’s forehead, right under the tuft of gray hair he twirled around his finger on long nights when sleep escaped them both. “We’re here, though. That counts for something. He’ll be glad to see us.”
“He pushed Loops.”
“…what?”
“He pushed Loops,” Leo repeated. “ ‘S what Dumo was saying to Finn when you got us water. Cap woke up, freaked out, and pushed Loops.”
“Oh.”
“I keep—I mean, what if—” Leo groaned softly and sat up, scrubbing at his eyes. “God, I’m just turning it over and over in my head. I don’t want him to yell at me. Which is so fucking selfish.”
“When has Cap ever yelled at you?”
“It’s not Cap, though, that’s the problem.”
Logan tried not to flinch.
Leo shook his head. “I want to see him. I really need to, just so I stop thinking about it.”
The large clock on the wall ticked through another minute. They were technically allowed to go in now. Logan wasn’t sure his stomach could handle it just yet. Finn’s foot tapped restlessly ten paces from them while he read one of the dozens of bulletin boards, hands clasped behind his neck. “I wasn’t there from the start.”
He felt Leo look at him. “What do you mean?”
“When Cap was a rookie.” He had heard stories. Seen pictures. It looked bad enough to make him grateful for Harvard, just for some distance in time. He watched Finn worry at the full curve of his lower lip. “But…you know, he was still pretty frozen over when I got here. It wasn’t until Loops that he opened up. Even when they weren’t out. There was only a few months you were here where he was quiet.”
“I don’t remember that.”
“You were new.” Logan shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. He was a lot of things, but he was never mean. Never yelled.” He glanced back at Leo and tried for a smile. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, soleil.”
“Excuse me?” They both turned at the sound of a new voice. Sneakers creaked on the waxed floors. A dark-haired woman smiled at them, flipping a page on her clipboard. “Dr. Manuel asked me to let you know that visiting hours will run from now until eight o’clock. No more than four people at a time, please.”
She seemed awfully calm. Logan wondered if she had been told about Sirius’ condition. Now that he thought about it, had any doctors come and gone since they arrived?
“Fantastic,” he said. A win was a win was a blessing in this mess. “Thank you.”
He could feel his hand shaking in Leo’s when they stood.
--
Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. “We both lived with him. I’m—” This is wrong. “We’re close. You and me.”
Sirius studied him with a wariness that made Logan want to curl up under one of the hall chairs and never come out. His next breath would be pure smoke from the flaming wreckage of hope inside him, he was sure of it. “Parles-tu français?”
Stop talking like that, stop it, why do you sound like that? “Ouais.”
He looked small in the bed. How could he look so small? Where did he learn that, and how fast could Logan run to get away from it? “Tu t’appelles Logan? Un nom Quebecois?”
Leo’s hand must be hurting from how tight he gripped it. Do not let me go. Sirius had always teased him for his fantaisie bon français drilled into him by his grandmother in Nice but this was not right, not right, not right, from the way Sirius’ voice folded in around his words to the lower, softer timbre just barely letting them free. No, Logan thought, he didn’t like this at all. “Ouais. Je viens de Rimouski.”
“Ah. Montréal, pour moi.” His smile was tentative, almost apologetic. Three days ago, Logan had teased him for this very conversation.
“Je sais,” he managed.
A faint humming noise answered him. He had already seen Sirius’ eyes dart over the three of them, clever and quick even when he was concussed. A subtle jerk of the chin made his mouth parch. “Qui sont-ils?”
“Mes copains.”
Logan didn’t have words for the complicated expression that flitted across Sirius’ face. “Les deux?”
“Oui.” He tried for a wry smile, for anything that could quell the riot of too much inside him. “Tu les appelles Bambi et Fleur. Tu m’appelles Thumper, espèce de connard.”
And almost—almost—that got him a grin. It was almost—almost—enough to make up for the ice-water panic filling his lungs with each passing breath. He didn’t like the smell of this place. Remus’ backpack by the chair, where he had been using it as a pillow. The plastic cups that were never stiff enough for a patient to drink from on their own. His mother had helped Sydney drink for three hours after her surgery, while her hands were still too weak not to spill on herself. And when Finn—
“Rookie.”
Logan felt Leo slump into him with a shaky breath. “Yeah. Sorry. Yeah, that’s—you call me that.”
There was a whining in his ears. A mosquito, or a siren. The sheets were too crisp. They would make his hands itch. Leo’s hand slipped from his own as he wrapped them around himself and fuck it all sideways, Logan couldn’t even comfort his boyfriend properly. He wanted to put an arm around his waist. His shoulder refused to unlock.
Sirius’ gaze dragged over him before sliding to Finn, brighter than before. “He calls you names in French.”
Oh, you piece of shit, Logan thought with startling clarity. “Sirius!”
“It’s true.” Sirius had been stoic for the first part of Logan’s rookie year, fresh off the rush of a disappointing not quite in the second round of the playoffs for the second year in a row. Logan would never forget the relief of nights when Sirius visited the Dumais house, putting aside the professionalism for a dinner that was close enough to home to ease his aching. Sirius had never asked him about Finn, either, content with the simple knowledge that they used to play together at Harvard and still tore it up on the ice.
“Finn,” Finn was saying. “Or Harzy, doesn’t matter much.”
“So you’re on the team, too?”
Logan had needed that presence when he arrived. And the…separation. The wound had been too raw for him to survive someone asking about Finn without the excuse of not knowing what words to use. “All three,” he said now. Sirius smiled, just slightly. His heart gave an unsteady thud-thud-thud. “What, you thought you were the only gay NHL player?”
The smile vanished. Too much. It slammed into Logan like a rogue wave and he bit hard on the side of his tongue. Leo was apologizing now. Apologizing for him. He would never learn, never had. Either he never tried or he pushed so hard a chance shattered in his hands. He could see it on Sirius’ face, all that confusion and fear mixed in with abrupt, sincere concern when James stood with a touch to his shoulder.
A tear slipped down James’ nose when he brushed past them. The whining turned to muddled clangs. What could he even say? I’m not gay? That wouldn’t help. The conversation had moved on; Leo had moved on, leading him forward to the plastic chairs by the bedside.
If he sat, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up fast enough when the feeling tiptoeing up behind him finally grabbed on. The world tipped a degree off its axis and he clenched the back of Leo’s chair in both hands. Remus’ backpack was a lonely black lump by the thin blanket someone had brought for him. Itchy. Everything in these places was itchy. It clung to Logan’s skin for days. He knew how it would feel to pillow his head with rough polyester. White caught his eye—a tag? Remus Lupin, #10, Varsity Hockey Harvard University.
Just a zipper. Tiny Nike logo.
Stitching on the front Tremblay #10—
A patch. Clumsy hand-sewn stitches reinforced on the equipment room machine by an exasperated Molly. Remus loved that backpack.
Sirius was looking straight at him. “Il y a des morceaux.”
How could pieces be all that was left of three and a half years?
A pale face blurred with freckles and Logan blinked rapidly to shake them away. Leo needed this. Leo needed him to keep it together. He could do this.
He moved one hand over, until his fingertips brushed Finn’s sweater.
“You and I run plays after practice sometimes, if I’ve been having a tough time of things,” Leo said. His voice was significantly steadier than before. It was working. Logan could do this. He could help. “I don’t think you and Harzy hang out a lot one-on-one, but Lo’s usually your go-to for video games ‘n shit. We have dinner sometimes with you and—”
The air went stale fast enough to make him choke on it. Finn shifted in his chair.
The door was a million miles away. He was gripping the handle in four steps. The dam was breaking, knocking the sight from his eyes. He braced both hands on cold cream paint, praying, praying that Remus was nowhere near.
Tears were a funny thing. He had never really figured out how to do them right—or at least, how to do them loudly, like when Noelle skinned her knee on the deck and screamed loud enough to make the neighbors come running. For Logan, it felt more like Leo’s beat-to-hell watering can, if the duct tape holding it together ever gave up. Everything kept in, and then everything rushing out at once. Breath and water and salt alike. Rarely noise, but he still pressed his elbow over his mouth and dug his hand into the frame of the bulletin board. Always, always, rawness to the marrow of his bones.
“Lo, oh my god.”
“I’m sorry.” A guttural sound died in his chest. “I tried.”
It was all he had. It would have to be enough. He just—he didn’t do head injuries. Broken fingers and busted ribs and jammed joints, fine, but he couldn’t fucking stand sitting and watching. There was only so much reading he could do. Only so many articles he could struggle through.
“Logan—”
“I’m sorry.”
Looking was a mistake. Finn’s face fell. “Hey, baby—”
“I’m sorry.” Logan sucked in a breath and dug the heels of his hands into his eyes to force the tears back. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I can’t.”
“Lo…”
Finn’s hand brushed between his shoulder blades and he flinched, turning away. The tears were fighting him now—fighting him so hard it made his throat ache. He could feel his pulse behind his eyes and ground his teeth. “No, no, no, no.”
“It’s okay.” Finn’s voice had gone soft and unsure and Logan hated himself. “Baby, it’s okay.”
He shook his head. It was never okay. Not like this.
“It’s okay.” He felt Finn move closer, but he didn’t try to touch again. “He’s awake now. He’s making sense.”
A jagged sound punctured Logan’s lung. “It doesn’t.”
“No, I…” Finn faltered. “He’ll be okay, baby. Come on, come sit down.”
Logan’s stomach fell to the floor. “No.”
“Can you—please give me something to work with, Logan, this isn’t—”
“I can’t sit down,” he said thickly. The light blinded him when he tilted his head back for a few harsh breaths. He wanted to cover his face, but his hands shook too bad to be any use. “I can’t just wait here, I’ve done that, I can’t do it again, I won’t.”
He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t sit and wait, forbidden from crossing the threshold because he wasn’t family, even though nobody loved Finn like he did and nobody could take care of him like he could—
A shudder rattled through Logan and he sealed a palm over his mouth. The waves howled and clawed at every one of his hairline cracks.
“What’s going on?” Finn sounded sad. Not worry-sad, but different-sad. Confusion-and-guilt-sad.
Muck clogged Logan’s throat. He took a few hitching breaths to clear a path. “It’s Sirius,” he said. “And he’s hurt, and every time I fucking blink I see your face instead and I still can’t do a goddamn thing, Finn, I can’t…”
He leaned into Finn’s hovering hand and fell against his chest with a low noise, pulling at his arms until he was safe.
Finn was here in his sweater and his jeans and Logan was safe.
He couldn’t stop the hurricane. The throbbing and the drenching, out of control. He had let it run its course in Remus’ office, in his basement bedroom, and now here. With Finn. Finn who was safe and whole. Something ugly muffled itself in the broad chevrons across Finn’s neckline, but there was no flinch to meet him.
“Let it out.”
God, it hurt so bad.
“You’re doing great, baby.”
This wasn’t a cry-solution. This had to be a Heather-solution. Logan wasn’t looking forward to that.
Finn’s nose was cold where it dovetailed against Logan’s cheek. “Love you so much,” he whispered. “So, so much.”
The compression of his arms outstripped any weighted blanket by a landslide. Logan flattened his palm against the back of Finn’s neck. There was no energy left in him to keep down a whimper when he felt Finn stroke through the back of his hair and leave a kiss on his cheekbone.
“I’m—” Logan gulped down a fragile attempt at a breath. “I love—fuck shit—”
“Shh, shh, stop.”
“I tried.”
Finn’s gentle scritch to his nape silenced him. How long had they been swaying? Finn had a funny way of coaxing him into a dance before he even knew what was happening. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured, voice breaking. “Jesus, Lo, I can’t even imagine.”
“It’s—it was Syd, and then it was you, and now it’s Sirius—” His breathing hitched on each name, as if unwilling to let him speak, but he was so tired of the silence. “—and what if I lost you, what if you forgot me, how could he forget us? Pieces, Finn, he said pieces.”
If he tried, he could probably stop. The duct tape could be slapped back on. Not perfectly, but he’d manage.
He didn’t really want to.
A gross, clogged sniffle made him feel a tiny bit better. “I’m always so fucking useless here.”
Finn was quiet for long enough that Logan could match their breathing. That, too, gentled the storm. The individual floor tiles were starting to reappear. “You helped me drink water for days,” Finn finally said. “You cooled me down. You slept next to me in a twin XL for—what, a week? You read every assignment, out loud, for two. You made Cap smile.” A sigh gusted over the back of his neck. “You’re not a doctor or anything, but I don’t think anyone can call you useless.”
“I can.”
“I’ve never been a fan of the way you talk to yourself, sweetheart.”
A problem for another day. “Leo?”
“They’re chilling. He’s just glad to be there, I think.”
Distance made him stress. Logan was familiar with the feeling. “You should go with him.”
“Hmm.”
“No, really. I’m feeling better.”
“Hmm.”
“Are you—are you okay?”
Finn took a big breath, let it go in an unsteady huff. “This is just…sad. And weird. And sad. I don’t know.”
Baby steps. One at a time. Finn was here and safe, Leo was right where he wanted to be, and Sirius wasn’t going anywhere fast. Let it out, Finn had said. God knew he was trying. He pried his hands off the back of Finn’s sweater and flexed them, pulled his elbows in until he could hold Finn’s waist. A three-count to lift his head, then a foiled attempt to dry his face before Finn got there. His sleeve took the salt and water before Logan could so much as raise a hand. Despite himself, he laughed.
“Let me take care of you,” Finn said through falsely-gritted teeth, planting an aggressive kiss to Logan’s forehead. He surveyed him for a few seconds, head tilted, before his lower lip slid out. “Aw, baby.”
“I know,” Logan said thickly. “Not everyone can be a pretty crier like Knutty.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Still.”
“I don’t love you because you’re a pretty crier.”
“Good, ‘cause I’m not.”
“Yeah, dipshit, I know.” Finn cuffed the outside of his shoulder and Logan dipped his chin against a smile. “I’m aw, baby-ing because you’re sad and I wanna go take you home and wrap you in a blanket.”
Logan sighed. His head fell forward to bump Finn’s collarbone. “I feel like an asshole.”
“Why?”
“Left you all in there.”
“Not sure anyone can blame you.”
“I can.”
“You don’t count.”
“Is Sirius mad at me?”
“Honest to god—and this is really fucking morbid, so like, mea culpa—I don’t think Sirius remembers enough to be mad at us.”
Logan’s lip quavered. “I got him sick.”
“Everybody got sick. You don’t know that it was you.”
Lo’s usually your go-to. “I spend the most time with him.”
“…pretty sure that’s Loops, actually.”
“Okay, well—”
“You’re not winning this one,” Finn interrupted. “Literally everyone on the team was sick at some point, and we saw each other every single day. You want to point fingers? Blame coach for playing Cap’s line that long.”
It was so hard to come up with a defense when Finn was always right. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Here’s the plan.” Finn gave a little oof as he helped Logan straighten up and squished his shoulders. There was fine tension around his eyes and mouth that gave way when Logan ran his thumbs over it. “I’m going back inside. You’re going to go find a bagel place for Dumo and Remus. I’ll text you when Knutty and I are done, we’ll figure out bagel dropoff, and then we’re going home and sleeping.” He must have seen Logan’s hesitation, because one auburn brow arched. “Cap’s awake. He’s not perfect, but he’s awake. There’s nothing else we can do.”
“I hate this.”
“Oh, yeah, this is terrible from every angle. Hence going home and sleeping.”
Logan nodded, then tipped his head toward the door. “Go see Le.”
Finn kissed him sweetly, a hand on his jaw, and obliged.
--
If Finn had been looking for a way to keep Logan occupied, tasking him with finding appropriate late-lunch/ early-dinner bagels was the way to do it. Gryff had dozens—half were closed by this hour, and the other half had to undergo rigorous inspection before Logan would even consider bringing them back to his Manhattan bagel hound of a boyfriend. Remus and Dumo would want coffee, too, even if they didn’t say it. Their respective husband and son was a previously-comatose amnesiac. He couldn’t bring them shitty coffee.
Finally, he found a promising option. Warm interior, short line, music quiet enough to tune out if he needed to. Display cases that were picked over (many customers), but not too empty (still some variety). A clean half-dozen should do.
The barista smiled when he approached the register, despite Logan’s certainly-red eyes and general crustiness. “Welcome in! What can I get started for you?”
“A half-dozen bagels, please. And two medium coffees, light cream, light sugar.”
“What kind of bagels?”
He hadn’t prepared for questions. Why hadn’t he prepared for questions? “Which ones are good?”
“What’s the occasion?”
“My—” Motherfucker. The tears snuck up on him, rushing to the front until he had to tip his head back with a frustrated breath. The barista’s hand hovered over the computer screen. Questions. He should have prepared for questions. There was a reason Finn always ordered for them. A strained, embarrassed smile was all he had to offer. “Desolé. My brother’s in the hospital.” His torso squeezed. “That’s the occasion.”
The barista seemed to freeze for a moment. “I’m…really sorry,” they finally said. “God. Wow. My bad.”
“It’s fine.” Logan shook his head. “Two plain, one sesame, one cheese, and two of the sandwich things, please.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course.” The barista started to turn, then faced him again, lowering their voice to soft concern. “Do you have someone with you? I just—my cousin was sick, and it was hard to be there alone. If you needed help.”
“He’s awake,” Logan assured them. The next person in line had stepped back a half-meter, looking pointedly at their phone. It was a kindness he hadn’t expected. He watched the barista wrap the two plain bagels before he felt he could trust his voice again. “He’ll be okay.” It felt funny to say aloud. Different than reassuring Leo or Finn. More confident. “We’ve got family around. Friends. We’ll be fine.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” they said with sincerity he hadn’t prepared for, either. Each bagel was carefully placed in a paper bag; a large sticker held the edge down. The sides were warm when Logan pulled it to himself, and the coffee steamed in two balanced cups.
“How much do I owe you?”
They waved him off. “Please, don’t worry about it. Just…have a good day. Be with your brother.”
He sighed through his nose. “You can’t stop me from tipping you.”
“Oh—”
He stuffed two twenties in the painted mason jar by the register and stepped back immediately, tossing a half-smile to the barista. “Have a nice afternoon.”
--
I need to go. I really need to do this.
Logan hadn’t fought him on it. He was tired of fighting. And not against Leo—never against Leo. Finn knew New York best; the safest winter roads, the quickest routes. Logan was content to play homemaker and listen to their back-and-forth. He simply fixed two sandwiches and a baggie of snacks for the ride while they talked it out on the couch.
The roads’ll be dark.
I can drive in the dark, it’s not a problem.
I topped off the tank yesterday, but you should refill outside the city if you need to. There are more when you’re out of Manhattan. They’re easier to get to.
Thanks, sweetheart.
You’re going to be okay? Finn’s voice had been tight with worry. Logan wasn’t sure it was entirely about Leo driving. You’re—you know, you should stay here for tonight, we can all go pick him up early tomorrow.
The sound of their soft kiss made the house warm. I won’t be sleeping, Leo had said. I’ll keep you both up. He’s been texting all day and I don’t want to make him get on a train right now.
Logan had managed to tempt him to the couch with a cup of tea and an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. Finn wasn’t far behind, and Leo dozed on his chest for the show’s second half. Thirty minutes could satisfy his worry if he stretched it. The adrenaline shakes had stopped an hour prior.
I don’t like this. Finn’s arms were tight around him while they watched Leo turn his headlights on and wave goodbye with a blown kiss. I don’t like this at all.
He’s a good driver.
I keep thinking…
I know. Did Logan ever. But it’s not us. So we’re here, and we’re helping.
Finn’s nose pushed into the crook of his neck; a deep breath made his stomach hurt.
We’re here, he had repeated, tangling a hand in the back of Finn’s hair. We’re safe. Je t’aime. I have a bagel place I want to show you in the morning.
--
“LoLo?”
“Hi.” Logan winced at the scratchiness of his own throat and glanced back down the hall, where Katie was just skipping back into Sirius’ room with Regulus in tow. “Hey, hi. What are you up to?”
“Um…folding my laundry, at the moment.” Silence fell over the phone. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. And you’re—you’re okay?”
“Wishing I didn’t have to do my laundry, but yes,” Sydney laughed.
His heart eased. “Bon. Good, okay.”
The sole of his shoe was starting to peel away from the toe. “What’s going on?” Sydney asked, quieter.
He shook his head before remembering she couldn’t see him. “Nothing, just wanted to talk.”
“Did something happen with Finn and Leo?”
“Non, we’re fine.” His stomach was shivery, like he’d gone too long without eating despite the sesame bagel lingering on his tongue. “Figured I’d call.”
“Black is still in the hospital, right?”
“Mhmm.”
“He’s awake?”
I remember you. Not everything, but I know you. “Up and talking. Making sense.”
Sydney hummed. He heard the light thump of a folded sock hitting her drawer. “He’ll be fine, petit. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I miss you,” he said quickly, before his mouth could force it all back. “I just—I miss you and I wanted to call.”
“Aw, LoLo.” Her sigh crackled in the hospital’s sketchy wifi. “I miss you, too. Christmas feels far this year.”
“Ouais.”
“You want me to get the girls on FaceTime?”
As if he could handle that right now. All three of them, scattered across a continent instead of safe in a pillow fort. “Non, it’s alright. I might…call, or something. I don’t know.”
This was stupid. He shouldn’t have interrupted her evening. But he so desperately needed to hear her voice after catching a sideways glimpse of Sirius’ dark hair from the open door.
“Take your time,” Sydney said easily. “I’m here all night, doing nothing. Have you heard from Obbie lately?”
“No, why?”
“She’s doing some sort of award gallery thing. Sounded neat. I’ll text you the link.”
“D’accord.” He could see her when he closed his eyes. Two loose braids to her shoulders, their father’s sharp jaw. Practiced hands flipping socks around each other, deft from gloving pucks. She had always poked and prodded and teased him more than the other two—a function of their close years—but had never once flaked when he reached out. He wasn’t sure how to thank her for that. He cleared his throat and heard it echo back to him. “You’ll call me, right? If you need things.”
“What would I need?”
“Just. I don’t know. Things.”
Her laugh was light, fond. “Yes, LoLo, I’ll call if I need things. Check your messages for the link.”
“I will.” He started to lower the phone, then brought it back to his ear. “I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Be safe.”
“I will.”
“See you at Christmas.” His lips felt shaky. “Or—whenever. If you’re around, or anything.”
“Goodbye, Logan,” she said slowly, though he could hear her smiling. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Take care. Give your boys my love.”
“I will.”
It was another five-count before either of them hung up.
Summary: Max has a nightmare and tried to sneak out to see you as you're the only person that can help with them, but Billy catches her before she can.
Notes: More of a sibling imagine than reader involvement, the beginning of a healthy sibling relationship post-mall but Billy survived.
Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs are blocked.
Masterlist
"Where are you off to?" Billy's voice scared Max as she crept what she thought was silently across the landing and beginning to descend the stairs when he caught her. Considering she was already fragile from her dream, it was a miracle she didn't scream when Billy's voice cut through the silence.
"I had a nightmare." She whispered shakily, hoping not to show too much weakness when talking to him.
"That doesn't answer where you were trying to sneak off to. You're lucky I caught you and not dad." Billy berated her, not yet seeing her tear stained cheeks and the slight tremble her chin had.
"I was going to y/n's. She always helps me when I have a bad dream."
At that sentence Billy tensed slightly. She's said always, meaning she's had plenty before and has always sneaked out without anyone knowing. He stepped forwards out of the dark corner he was leering in and walked towards his step-sister, now being able to view the tear stains and red eyes that made his heart clench slightly, not that he'd let her see that he cared about her too much.
"Come on then, get in the car, we don't have all night." He said roughly but quietly, shocking Max. She never would've thought he would offer to help her with anything, especially not anything as trivial as a nightmare.
"Max!" His voice cut through her thoughts in a sharp, impatient whisper as she scurried down the stairs and out the front door, opening the car door and swinging inside as fast as she could, Billy joining her soon after he'd locked the front door.
The drive there was uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Billy's mind was swirling with things he wanted to say to Max, to comfort her or ask what the nightmare was about, how long she'd been having them and were they all the same?
Before he had the chance to ask though, he'd already pulled up at y/n's house and Max was out of the car in a flash, running across the front garden and ringing the bell repeatedly until she opened the door.
He decided to just stay put in his car, blasting his music at an appropriate level considering the time and waited for Max to come back out. 30 minutes passed and Max finally came back, waving to where y/n was stood in the house and closing her front door behind Max; running out back to Billy's car and hoping in, now seeming much better.
"Ready?" He asked just to make conversation with her, something he never did. Thankfully Max didn't question it and just nodded her head, looking out the window again.
And so Billy began the journey home, occasionally looking over to check on Max but each time finding her (seemingly) content and staring out of the window.
In short time they found themselves at home again, climbing out of Billy's car quietly and sneaking back into the house. The two trudged up the stairs, Max leading the way, and she was about to turn off into her bedroom when she felt a hand wrap suddenly around her arm. She spun round quickly, thinking it was her step-father, but in actuality found it to be Billy.
Max shrunk back a little into her bedroom door, assuming she was gonna be getting a bollocking for waking him up and making him drive out to some strangers house in the middle of the night; but when Billy saw her shy back into herself he softened his grip on her arm.
"You know you can talk to me when you get your nightmares, right? I might be able to help." He offered quite harshly only to cover up the nervousness he felt if Max were to suddenly reject or belittle his offer.
"I appreciate it but I don't exactly think you'll be that forgiving if I'm waking you up in the middle of the night four days a week just because I had a bad dream." Seriously, Max had experienced first hand what a sleep deprived Billy was like, never again.
"Four days a week?" He asked incredulously, this whole time keeping Max's arm in his hand. "What are they about?"
Max hesitated a little before answering. "You."
Billy felt as if he stopped breathing. He'd made his step-sister that scared of him? Was she having nightmares of him like the ones he would have of his dad?
"Me?" Billy questioned in a small voice, still in a little disbelief and astonishing levels of panic.
"Yeah, when I thought you died. At the mall. I guess I never really got over it." She elaborated, clueless to the war going on in Billy's head.
He relinquished a sigh of relief at Max's clarification. He genuinely would not know what to do if she was having the same type of nightmares as him.
"I know it's stupid because you're here and you have been for months but-"
"No. No it isn't stupid. You know, I get nightmares too. Maybe we can help each other." Billy interrupted Max's rambling.
"How?"
"When you get a nightmare you come and wake me up, and when I get one I'll come wake you up. We don't talk about them if we don't want to, but it's just the sense of comfort." Billy suggested, quite proud of himself for thinking of it.
"Okay." Max agreed, nodding her head and smiling a little bit.
"Good. Now it's really late so go and get some sleep okay?" Billy let go of Max's arm and waited as she turned around and twisted the handle to her room to open the door. Only she didn't go inside.
"Uh Billy?"
"Yeah?" He answered in slight confusion.
"Can I sleep in your room tonight? I don't wanna be alone in my room after the dream I just had." Max explained nervously. "Obviously you can say no, I was just suggesting it as maybe kick starting the whole agreement thing, I'll just go." Max turned to enter her own room again when Billy picked her up around the waist and carried her through to his room and set her on the floor.
"Thanks." She said sheepishly. Billy nodded his head and went into his bathroom and closed the door.
Max took that as her cue to settle down, so she grabbed an extra pillow Billy kept and a blanket and made do on the floor.
Surprisingly Billy must've taken quite a while in the bathroom because when he walked back out, he nearly tripped over a sleeping Max on the floor. He sighed and crawled into his bed, pulling the covers back and getting comfortable before leaning over the side of his bed and scooping his step-sister up in one arm and settling her into bed on the side he'd cleared room on.
After making sure she was tucked in nicely, Billy turned all the lights out and tucked himself under the covers after.
For Billy the night was nightmare free, and if the way Max was shuffled close to the side of him when he woke up was anything to go by, it was for her too.
Summary: “What if season 3 happened… but Danny’s parents knew his secret.” These are the small moments througout a few of the episodes.
Set between entries Boxed Up Fury and Frightmare, prequel to Out of Time. Makes mentions of events from Escape from Fear Island but still standalone.
---
…Danny’s back slammed onto the ground hard, looking up in surprised as Dan’s duplicates surrounded him…
…They were fighting now, parrying blows…. a scream… or was that his scream? The pain was getting almost unbearable. It was almost as if his core was imploding…
“You’re time is up Danny,” he drawled. “It’s been up for ten years.”
…He tried fighting back, but they overpowered him easily, throwing him into a lamp post. Muffled screams found his ears as he fought to stay conscious. He needed to keep going. He pushed himself up, glaring up at his future self…
…"Look at you," Dan jeered. "You're a pathetic excuse for a ghost and a human. How would our family like it if they knew you abandoned them to fight against a ghost? To try and 'save them' - Ha! They think you're a freak; why should you care if they die? Because you're human? You think anyone cares about you? They're scared of you, no matter what they say or what you do. Why should you even care if they die?"…
…“What makes you think you can change my past?”…
…The wails collided, bouncing off each other as they were locked in combat. He felt himself fading but there was no way of knowing for sure…
…“I promised my family,” he felt himself say…
…Dan laughed, red eyes shining brightly. “What family?”…
A shout escaped Danny’s throat as he bolted upright in bed. He gasped for breath, wide-eyed as he looked down at his shaking hands. He winced, core energy buzzing deep within his core. Just a dream.
“Danny?”
He flinched heavily as Jazz entered his room. Sighing, he unravelled himself from the blanket and threw his legs over the side of the bed. He didn’t acknowledge his sister as she sat down beside him. They sat in the silence, Danny’s hands shaking still.
“You still have an hour before your alarm,” Jazz told him quietly after a few minutes. “Do you… want to tell me about it?”
Danny exhaled loudly, looking toward the calendar on his desk. “It’s been a year,” he said softly.
“What?”
He finally turned to his sister, feeling older than he was. “Jazz, I know Lancer asked you do the assembly again.”
Jazz’s eyes widened in horror, then softened. “Danny, I thought you -“
“I’m not,” Danny interrupted. “I’m not afraid of him anymore, and I haven’t been getting these nightmares often.” Blue met teal as he frowned. “I need to tell Mom and Dad. About… about what happened.”
Jazz stared at him searchingly, studying him for anything he may let slip. “Are you sure?” she asked tentatively. “This is a big step - if you’re not ready you should wait. At least until you have breakfast.”
Danny shook his head. “It’s been months Jazz. They weren’t ready before, but with the truce I think they can handle it.” He broke away from her gaze, starting to get dressed.
“But can you handle it?” Jazz countered.
He stopped midstride, shirt in his hand at Jazz’s question. The last time he told someone this story he broke down and then had to fight off his fear of his future self. Could he do it? He didn’t look behind him, pulling the shirt over his head and continued across the room.
“Danny, I’m serious,” Jazz said worriedly. She caught up to him and a put a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off. “You’re right that Mom and Dad need to know about Dan but you don’t need to force this. They’ve been patient - uncharacteristically so. You control the narrative here; you’re the one that decides when you tell them what.”
“And I want to tell them now,” he replied, a slight bite in his tone.
Jazz bit her lip, following her brother out of his room. “Why today?” she pressed.
Danny growled. “Jazz,” he warned.
“Don’t get testy, I’m just curious.”
As they reached the bottom of the stairs, their parents’ voices became louder. Danny made way to the kitchen, but Jazz ran in front of him and grabbed his hands.
“What are you -“
“Danny,” Jazz said forcefully. “Your hands are still shaking.”
Blue eyes grew wide, looking down at their joined hands; Jazz was right. Danny’s eyes hardened, focusing on his hands to will them to stop. “I -“
“Danny.” Jazz’s eyes narrowed, her older sister instincts flaring into overdrive. “I’m worried about you - just tell me. Why tell Mom and Dad today? Right now?”
He looked up, holding her gaze for a few tense moments before he sighed deeply. “Jazz, it’s been a year. You know where I was a year ago this morning? I was stuck in the future knowing that he was trying to kill you all.” Danny shuddered slightly. “I couldn’t tell anyone afterwards because I didn’t want to deal with it. Then Fear happened, then Mom and Dad found out… they’re the only ones who don’t know Jazz. And they should - they should know what I’m capable of.”
Jazz’s eyes widened. “You’re trying to prepare them if you …”
Danny sighed tiredly, cutting her off. “I just… I need them to know Jazz. You’re headed to college next year - if I have nightmares or if I want to talk to talk to them about this, I don’t want it to be for the first time. I need to know if they can accept this.” He looked up at her imploringly. “I want to move past this - the only way is for me to start now.”
“Okay.” Jazz gave him a soft bittersweet smile. “You’re growing up.”
Danny pulled away with a slight scowl. “Don’t remind me.”
“I thought I heard your voices!”
Both teens jumped. They turned as their mother poked her head out of the kitchen, surveying the two quickly before frowning. “What’s wrong?”
Jazz glanced at her brother before nodding at him. “Danny had a nightmare,” she replied. “Is Dad in the lab?” Maddie’s frown deepened, nodding as Jazz walked past. “I’ll go grab him.”
“Thanks Jazz.”
“Danny?” Maddie asked confused. The boy’s eyes darkened slightly, looking more haunted than she had seen him in a long time. She closed the gap between them, giving him a small hug. She knelt down, looking up into his troubled face worriedly. “Want to tell me about your dream.”
Danny shook his head. “I want to tell you what caused it.”
Maddie stiffened, looking at her son with pressed lips. They held each other’s gaze for a few moments before Maddie nodded. “I’ll make the coffee,” she told him gently.
He nodded, walking to the table wordlessly. As his family gathered, he felt the dream flutter back into his mind, along with memories of his fight with Dan and his events on Fear Island.
“Danny?”
He blinked, the memories disappearing as he looked at the worried faces of his family. He swallowed heavily, shaking hands finally turning steady as they curled around the coffee mug in front of him. Here goes.
“It started with the C.A.T. …”
:-=-:
Clockwork watched as the Fenton family discussed alternate futures with a frown. There was something different about Danny’s dream; something that made time falter so violently that the Time Master nearly fell out of the air. The looming paradox ahead caused more pathways to dwindle; it was getting closer.
He raised his staff in the air, waving it across the time glass with care. “Nocturn,” he called. “I have a favour to ask.”
He needed to know - the future of time was at stake… as was Danny’s life.
Links to previous:Eye for an Eye Infinite Realms Girls Night Out Torrent of Terror Forever Phantom Urban Jungle Livin' Large Boxed Up Fury Frightmare Claw of the Wild D-Stabilized Kingdom Come
Ectostorm Series
Suggestions welcome! Just put them in my asks and I'll get to them when I can :)
Daycare ended at three. The toddlers were picked up by their parents by three thirty. It was four and Uncle Donald hadn't come back.
The teacher let the boys play with toy cars on a mat while she cleaned the playground out the door, reasonably sure they wouldn't cause much trouble that way.
Dewey and Louie were running green and blue cars in circles, Huey preferred to put the other cars in piles according to color. Every few seconds Dewey would make exploding sounds with his mouth, par for the course for him. Huey was so used to it that he didn't notice when it stopped. He did notice when be heard sniffling.
Concern worrying his brow, he crawled to his brothers, both sitting on the ground trying not to cry loudly.
"Wa's wong, Dewey? Wa's wong Louie?"
"I-I mm-iss Unca-a Donald!"
"I wan Uncaa!"
"Unca!"
Tears unleashed, the boys cried hard. At such a young age, none of them had yet to fully grasp time's passage. Unca hadn't come when the others left, that meant they must've been left here for hours.
Suddenly made aware of this development, Huey felt a lump hurting his throat, but his heart hurt more. Reaching for his brothers shoulders he tried to pat them like how Unca did when they were sad.
"'Is okay." He tried to be reassuring.
"Is not!"
"Unca's gone!"
"We awone!" They cried harder.
Huey couldn't argue with the facts. This wasn't working, he pulled his hands back. Dewey kicked at the mat, hitting a toy car, causing it to roll into Louie's green blankey. Without thinking, Huey grabbed it and wrapped it over Louie's shoulders, keeping his arms there.
"We're no awone. We've got me and you and you." He gave each brother a pat.
Louie grabbed Huey's shirt in a damp fist. "Don' go way, Huwey."
Dewey reached around Huey in a hug, grabbing a corner of the blankey. "I don' wanna be awone."
Huey protectively wrapped his brothers in his tiny arms. "I'm no going way. Ever. I pwomise. I love yous."
"I love you Huwey."
"I love you too, Huey."
Squeezing tight, he gave his brothers kisses on their heads, feeling them shake with tears. His own slid out, cool and calming. It felt good and bad to have his brothers clinging to him.
Huddled tightly they didn't notice that someone had entered the room. Not until they were all picked up at once in a hug no one else could give.
"UNCA!!!" In unison their crying ceased, they wiggled in his arms, hugging him with tiny hands, smiling and nuzzling his bowtie.
"Hi boys! Everything okay?"
"We missed you!"
"Why you go?"
"Wha' happen?"
Wiping away their tears with Louie's blanket, Donald smiled. "I had to go to the store first to get you new car seats, remember?"
"Oh, yeah."
"We so big!"
"That's right. You don't fit in the old ones anymore cause you got so big!"
"We super big!"
"Super. It took a while cause I had to get the right colors." Existing the daycare, he set the boys down, unlocking the car door they scrambled to see their new seats.
"I wan da blue one!"
"I wan red!
"Gween! Gween!"
"Good choices." Scooping up Dewey, he was placed in the blue middle car seat, bouncing excitedly.
"Hold still please Dewey, you can bounce when I'm done." Dewey giggled as he was tickled, calming down for as long as it took the buttons to click. He buckled Louie in then Huey. And on their way home they started.
"You like your new car seats boys?"
"Yes Unca Donald." They chorused.
"Good. Now, why were you crying when I came in to daycare? Did Dewey kick one of you again?"
"Uh-uh." Dewey shook his head vehemently.
"We were sad." Huey clarified.
"We missed you. You didn't come." Louie said from under his blanky, wrapped around his head.
"Aw, I'm sorry boys. I wasn't supposed to be late. But it's okay, I'm here now. We're going home."
"'Is was okay." Huey shrugged.
"Huey helped us." Dewey kicked his legs out.
"Huey made us better." Louie looked past Dewey at Huey. “He gave us hugs.”
"Aw, that's sweet. You were a good big brother?" Donald looked at Huey in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah!"
"That's so nice. I always try to be a good big brother to your mommy. I made sure she didn't get sad or mad or...hurt."
Huey smiled. "I wanna be wike you Unca. I wanna be a good big brother. The best big brother!"
"You already are the best big brother."
My fisrt time finishing a ficlet in a single day! First time finishing something I wrote the same day I started it actually. I hope its good as I wrote it while on break in the daycare I just started work in. I was inspired as you can see. Which means you’ll be getting a lot more DT Toddler fics from me. Oh the agony.
"What the fuck. What the everloving fuck." Soul ran her hands through her hair shakily. "This is- Jesus fuck this is too much. What the hell?"
Reginald nodded “This is so crazy...Why the fuck...is she insane?! Like Jesus...” Reginald goes over and hugged Soul to comfort her. “Righty is busy comforting Eyes so, I can help comfort you.”
