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mychoombatheroomba · 8 months ago

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Don't Let Go

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 36

You get some unexpected support, and you and Leon come to an understanding that neither of you likes.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

They had the day off, but the first thing that everyone wanted was answers.

To his credit, Krauser took the time to answer them all as best he could.

“Why didn’t you warn us?”

“I didn’t know.”

“Do they have the authority to even do that?”

“. . . Yes.”

“What are they so afraid of us blabbing about?”

“You’ll be learning that in the coming weeks.”

“Are those assholes really going to be staying?”

“Yes.”

Leon stood in the back as the rest of the squad learned what he already knew: what they’d suffered for. What some of them were being sent home for. No one was happy with the answers given, but most understood. Leon understood. The reasoning, at least. Not the practice. Not the torture. He would never understand that.

Nor would he understand the answer to the question Valeria hissed out, one that had been eating away at Leon, too. The one thing he wasn’t reasonably sure of, on Krauser’s end regarding the whole experience.

“They had our letters,” she said, her foot tapping against the floor beneath where she sat on her bunk. “From months back.”

Leon watched shadow overtake Krauser’s eyes, that crease between his brows deepening.

“Hadn’t heard from my mom. Is it because they held those letters from us?”

Krauser nodded once, his gaze unwavering even if it was full of regret. “Yes.”

“And you knew?” Valeria pressed, hurt evident in her features.

Another pause, before Krauser nodded. “Yes. STRATCOM procedure. No communication with the world outside during training.”

“So any letters we sent home . . .”

“. . . Were never sent.”

Top-secret shit, even before the bioweapons were brought into play.

Not that it made the pill any easier to swallow.

Still, the Major didn’t try to shift the blame off of himself, even as Valeria fixed him in a scalding glare. If looks could kill, Jack Krauser would be a pile of ash on the ground. “That’s bullshit,” Valeria snapped. “Sir.”

“Watch that tone, Soto,” Krauser met her, steel for steel. Leon had seen the man make soldiers give him fifty push-ups for mouthing off . . . but he’d also seen him allow Leon to speak his mind. He’d seen the Major listen to Leon’s own concerns, even if the Major seemed to like quite literally everyone else better than him. So, even if he barked at Valeria now, Leon wasn’t surprised when a moment later, the Major just gave her an apologetic look. There were a lot of those that he gave that morning, until there were no more questions.

None that anyone was brave enough to ask, anyway.

Their personal effects were passed back out to them - the ones that had been abandoned in the Humvees when Reed and Hellman had taken the squad. Three days ago. Three days and a lifetime, it felt like.

Just like how Raccoon City felt like a lifetime in one night.

Pain had a way of doing that, didn’t it? Warping the world. A day became forever, forever became attached to the idea of something terrible. A cage with no bars. He wondered how long he and the rest would be stuck in that cage? How long the bruises would take to heal, how often, like last night, someone would hear movement in the barracks and jolt awake, expecting a blow for having fallen asleep . . .

Everyone was still so quiet as they unloaded their freshly returned packs. Hard not to be when Andersen and the other three who had failed were there, not bothering to join in the unpacking. What was the point if they were going to be gone by tomorrow anyway?

As for the rest, the day was theirs to do with as they pleased, and no one had any idea how to spend that free time.

Not until heavy footfalls against the floor made Leon and those around him - Alenko, Williams and Valeria - look up, and they found the Major standing there, his hands behind his back. He looked at each of them, gaze sweeping from right to left before landing on Leon and hardening. Sharpening. Leon was sure then that he was about to hear a speech about his failure. About how he’d broken and the only reason that he and Valeria were being allowed to stay were because of Krauser’s own intervention. Or maybe that this entire thing was because of a request that Leon made. He could think of no other reason for the loathing in that stare.

Instead, the Major looked back at the group as a whole. “Heard you had some trouble back at Fort Benning,” he said, and Leon’s brow furrowed. So the conversation wasn’t going to be about the beatings taken in those cells, but rather the one that he and the others had taken in defense of one another. “Got a call from Commander Cortez a few days back. Said you got into a fight. That you put twelve of his men in the hospital. That true?”

That, too, seemed like a lifetime ago. Alenko was the one to nod and answer Krauser’s question. “Yes, sir.” He frowned as he spoke, the expression tugging at the splotches of blue and purple on his face.

Krauser nodded once, his face set in stone.

“Good,” he finally said, and Leon recognized veiled pride in his eyes. “Make sure you don’t end up in the hospital too, next time.”

It was one of the few orders that Major Krauser had given in his time here that Leon agreed with.

Of course, when the Major unclasped his hands and tossed what he’d been holding onto the bunk nearest him, Leon felt an entirely different wave of emotion sweep through him. The little radio rolled onto its back as it landed amidst the scratchy blankets, leaving a flash of recognition to cross Williams’ and Alenko’s faces as they saw it. The same radio that had been in Cortez’s office. The same one you’d somehow stolen for them, that you’d all been listening to on the ride home before everything went wrong.

Krauser was giving it back to them.

“And don’t make a habit of stealing from your Commanding Officers.”

Leon might have laughed, under different circumstances.

Instead, he found himself even more surprised as Krauser went on, this time looking towards Valeria. “Your letters,” he began, “they were from your mother?” Hellman must have told him, then. Or maybe Krauser had read the letters himself, after the fact. Leon hoped that wasn’t the case. He hoped he hadn’t read through Sherry’s letters before Leon even had the chance to. Still, he knew enough about the contents to ask.

Valeria’s mouth twitched down, and she nodded once in response, stiff and all too plainly upset.

Krauser nodded too, and again Leon saw conflict in the Major’s face. Whatever combat his thoughts were doing, though, it was over quickly. “I’ll do what I can to get you clearance to write home. All of you.”

That was all Krauser said . . . but just before he turned away, his eyes found Leon again. Fixed on him like crosshairs. The words spoken were all that were said, but Leon could see that Krauser had more to say. Something lurking just beneath the surface, unformed but sharp. Leon only glimpsed it for a moment, but it was there all the same. Leon almost didn’t care if the Major was angry, now though. Because even if he didn’t have a home to write to, really, he could write to Sherry.

He might be able to tell her he was sorry for not answering her letters. To tell her he was okay, to make sure that she was alright too.

So, whatever was behind the sharp look that he received now, Leon just met that sharpness with gratitude. He didn’t get much but a moment of that gaze losing its edge. Just a second or two, and then the moment was gone, and so was Major Krauser, moving down the rows of bunks. He hesitated as he neared Andersen, the older soldier sitting on the edge of his bunk, looking shell-shocked.

Krauser looked down at him, his jaw tensing as he reached out a hand, patting the other man on the shoulder.

Then, lifting his chin, he left the barracks.

More silence followed, until at last, Williams spoke up. “Looks like Sarge was right about him being proud,” she muttered, watching as he stepped through the door.

There was no doubt in Leon’s mind. Jack Krauser was an asshole. He had a sadistic streak. He liked to push people and he would never apologize for doing it. All of that was still true.

But maybe you’d been right about more than just Krauser being proud of you all.

“Do you buy it?” Alenko asked, looking over at Leon. “That he didn’t know about Reed and Hellman?” He didn’t sound overly skeptical. Just like he wanted to be sure. That he needed that one last opinion that reinforced his own.

You had faith in the Major. Leon had criticized you for that, once.

Now he understood it better.

“He’s telling the truth,” Leon nodded, and he could have sworn he felt hell freeze over because he was defending Krauser of all people. “You saw how he reacted to . . .” to your injury. Leon had seen it up close and personal. The shock that mutated into rage. Rage enough to make Krauser nearly do something stupid.

“Yeah,” Alenko conceded, knowing well enough what Leon was referring to. They’d all seen the concern the Major had for you. The regret he’d hidden poorly as he answered the questions today. He had not meant you all to come to harm. Not like that.

Didn’t change the fact that you were still going to be hospitalized for who-knew-how-long.

“Never seen him worried like that,” Williams nodded, shaking her head.

“Never seen Sarge hurting like that either,” Alenko said, and tensed when he felt Valeria’s gaze turn on him. She was still feeling guilty, Leon could see it. Alenko could too, shutting his mouth when he realized he’d just reminded Valeria of what she’d inadvertently caused.

Because Reed and Hellman had asked about the two of you specifically. That’s what Valeria had said last night, and those words had Leon on edge. That’s what made him worry even now that there was danger, even now that they were all free of those cells.

You’d told him last night that you couldn’t risk him being there, and you hadn’t known how right you’d been.

The two of you had been obvious with your care for one another. So, even if she’d given up information about you two being close, Leon didn’t blame Valeria for what happened. Even if it was clear that she blamed herself.

Maybe that was why, after a moment, she reached for the radio that Krauser had left on the cot in front of her, and stood. “Come on then,” she said to the group, and her voice had more resolve in it than Leon had heard in a long while.

“Where are you-”

“We weren’t the ones that stole the radio, right? And Sarge is gonna get a lot more use out of it than we are.”

It was a day for looking past old angers, Leon found. He hadn’t liked Valeria much before the trip to Fort Benning. That had changed steadily while there. Now, though, as she marched off in an effort to try and alleviate your loneliness, whether to lessen her guilt or because she genuinely cared for you, Leon didn’t care. What mattered was the effort. It mattered that someone besides him cared enough to think of that before he could even voice it.

And Leon, for the first time in the last few days, smiled. He didn’t hesitate as he stood alongside her, following her as she moved towards the door. It didn’t take long before Williams and Alenko were following along, too.

⧫⧫⧫

As soon as you heard the knock on the door, you steeled yourself.

You weren’t sure how you were going to tell Leon. Distancing yourself had been the first instinct. You were good at that. It would be easy. Well, not easy, but doable. You’d done it once before, after all.

It had left you feeling like shit, and it hadn’t solved anything.

You’d both promised to talk about what you were feeling. It was a promise you regretted now that it made things more difficult, but you wanted to honor it. You owed him that much. So, you’d torn your mind apart all morning trying to put together the right words.

Krauser knows-

Reed and Hellman will be watching-

We can’t-

All of them seemed like bullshit, even if the concerns Krauser had raised were valid. Real. Just as the happiness that Leon Kennedy brought you was real, too. The most real thing you’d felt in months, besides that old and aching pain that you could never be rid of. Pain that was dulled and, sometimes, forgotten around the man you’d come to care for so much. The man you’d watched grow into a stronger person, inside and out. The man you would take a thousand hits for.

You couldn’t just let that go.

So when you heard that knock, you weren’t sure what the hell you were supposed to do because Leon wouldn’t want to end this. Not now. And neither did you.

The door opened and you found yourself speaking on instinct alone. “You shouldn’t be in here,” you repeated the words from the night before, not looking up from that spot on the floor you’d chosen as yours.

And then you regretted not looking up as soon as you heard a smoky but strained voice reply. “Nice to see you too.”

Your head snapped up and you pushed yourself up from bed, thanking the pain meds in your system for allowing the movement. Valeria didn’t wait to be invited in. Neither did any of the three people following her. Alenko and Williams gave you gentle, apologetic smiles as they followed the shorter woman in, and you felt your heart splinter because you’d thought to spend this day alone, like the last time. You thought you’d have to push Leon away the moment he stepped through the door, just for the sake of keeping up appearances.

Instead, you found yourself looking at your squad mates with wide eyes.

And when Leon did walk through the door, you felt that splintered heart break apart when he smiled at you.

“Hey,” he greeted, and you knew this conversation was going to hurt. Both of you.

But what conversation was it going to shape up to become?

You didn’t know, and, as you looked at the four visitors in front of you, you decided that maybe you didn’t want to know, either.

“Hey,” you said. “What are you all-”

“We got the day off,” Valeria answered. “Figured you could use the company.”

“If you wanted it,” Leon added, giving you an understanding look.

You’d been alone during your recovery from Finland. Krauser had checked in on you when he could, but he had a life and duties to attend to. The nurses that pitied you had made for shitty companions. Not that you’d wanted anyone, anyway. Solitude. That had been your companion and your shield. You’d thought just Leon had the ability to break down that barricade around you.

You’d been wrong.

It wasn’t quite a smile that you gave the group as you nodded, but it was close enough. “Okay.”

That surprise and that slight smile only grew as Valeria held out her arm and presented you with none other than the little radio you’d stolen from Cortez’s office. “Think you’re missing this, too.”

You weren’t sure what to think as you took the radio from her. Valeria seldom did anything without cause. What was her reasoning for this? For being, well, downright kind to you? You didn’t know, and, honestly? In that moment, when you had been so sure you’d been condemned to isolation in every possible way, you decided that you didn’t care, either.

So, you settled the radio between your hands, fighting back the new kind of pain in your chest. One not born of your cracked ribs or the fear that Krauser’s words had instilled in you.

This pain was sweeter. One you hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

“Thank you,” you murmured, looking from Valeria, to Leon, and then the rest.

Valeria just shrugged. “You’re no fun when you’re miserable. So pick a station and let’s fucking relax for once.”

You couldn’t really argue with that, so you flipped switches and dials until you heard a synth beat and vocals you hadn’t heard in so long. A song from another life.

“. . . there’s no turning back.”

“Even while we sleep . . .”

“Shit,” Alenko smiled wide as he took a seat a ways away from the bed you sat in. “I love this song!”

Williams just nodded, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the wall. “Least it’s not the Spice Girls,” she mumbled over her split lip before she looked over at the rest of you who, back in the Humvee, had made her sit through one of their songs. It seemed her opinion of them hadn’t improved. “Respectfully, they’re shit.” The near-apology was delivered with a near-smile to match.

“Well, Williams,” you found yourself saying, even if your words were muted by the ordeal you’d just been through. Still, there was something familiar there. Something you’d rediscovered at Fort Benning, and were glad to find at your fingertips now; humor. That was what ever-so-slightly colored your words as you told Williams, “ respectfully, go fuck yourself.”

An Army brat like you, Williams just smirked right back.

“Help me make the-”

“Most of freedom and of pleasure-”

“Nothing ever lasts forever . . .”

It made it easier, having them there. There weren’t many words, but there didn’t need to be. You all just listened to the song as it played, finding a comfortable state of quiet between each other. Valeria moved to lean against the wall by Williams’ side. Leon . . . you could tell he wanted to move closer to you. You wanted that too. You wanted it to be just the two of you, like in the hospital in Fort Benning, but Krauser’s warning hung over your head.

“There’s a room where the light won’t find you-”

“Holding hands as the walls come tumbling down-”

“When they do, I’ll be right behind you . . .”

Being alone with him was dangerous, more so now than it ever had been. That didn’t change simply because you wanted his presence or company. Your desire for him wouldn’t be pitied in a court martial. Not if Reed and Hellman were already looking at you like an infected limb that needed to be cut away.

You needed to heal, and Leon needed to finish this training. You both did. You’d just never thought it would be apart.

“So glad we almost made it . . .”

So . . . you would be alone with him one more time. At least for a while.

“So sad they had to fade it . . .”

You hoped he would understand that this was for the best, for now.

The song eventually finished and you looked up to meet his eyes. You’d learned to speak without words to each other, now. So many stolen glances and nights spent side by side, in training or with him pressed up against the wall of the mess hall, you had a language all your own. Insight into each other’s thoughts. And as you looked into those ocean blues, you saw your own thoughts reflected back at you.

There was a talk to be had, and both of you knew it.

⧫⧫⧫

The day went on and eventually the others left. Alenko was first, saying he was going to go in search of food. Had to be desperate, to want what the mess hall served, but Leon didn’t begrudge him. The hunger of those three days had left them all empty just as much as the rest of the experience had.

Williams went next, saying she needed to move, to make up for those days spent in captivity. Valeria didn’t take much convincing when asked to join her.

Leon almost told them to be careful. To not let the agents see them.

To not end up in the predicament that the two of you were in.

A situation that became clear and present, once the two of you were left alone, the radio playing on.

“How are you feeling?” He knew what the answer would be, but he asked anyway.

“They gave me pain meds,” you shrugged as best you could, “so not that bad right now.”

At least there was that. Even if you shouldn’t have had to be in the infirmary in the first place. “Have they told you how long you’ll be on bed rest?” Leon asked, because he didn’t want to have the other conversation. Not yet.

The mirth that had been present on your face, however muted, faded. “It was a six week recovery last time. For the bones.”

“Six?” The number sounded so much worse than what Leon had imagined. He remembered his own long recovery from the gunshot wound he’d suffered in Raccoon City. It had seemed long then, but he hadn’t been kept from anything. It hadn’t stopped him from living his life. Not that he’d done much living after that night anyway. Still, he couldn’t imagine what this was like to you, because it would be six weeks without physical training. Six weeks without sparring, without being able to clear your head in the way Leon knew you would need. Six weeks of what would be hell to you.

And if you couldn’t train for combat like the rest of them . . . would you be able to graduate with the rest? With him?

“You need to keep practicing,” you told him, and by the stiffness of your words, Leon could tell that you were thinking of exactly what he was thinking of. It sounded like you were telling him to go on without you. “Train with the others, but ask Krauser to spar too. He’s the best. He’ll kick your ass, but he’ll make you better.”

“You say that like you’re not gonna-”

“I’m not gonna be able to spar with you, Leon. Not for a while. I’m not gonna be there. You can’t let yourself fall behind with me.”

The words, while well intentioned, were painful to hear aloud. True, but painful because after months of training with you, he couldn’t imagine not being by your side. He didn’t want to have to train for hell on earth and not know that you would be there to face it with him.

But you were right.

As unfair as it was, as completely and utterly shitty, you were right.

“Okay,” he nodded. “But then when you’re better, we’ll catch you back up.” Because he knew you would need it. He knew you’d want it, too. That after so long letting your body heal, you would want nothing more than to throw yourself back into the swing of things.

The trouble was-

“Leon . . .” you shook your head, and he knew that the conversation he’d dreaded was here. “Krauser knows.”

Just like that, the color drained from his face. You’d never been one to beat around the bush, but those words were like being doused in ice water.

“About . . .”

“Us.”

He felt a pit open up in his stomach that threatened to turn him inside-out, and all he could do was sit on the bed beside you. The jaws were closing in. Had that been the cause of that look from Krauser earlier? Had the Major been looking at him with such disdain because of that?

“. . . Fuck.” It was really all he could say. Why even warn you about Reed and Hellman if the game was already over . . .

“He’s not going to report it.”

. . . or maybe not as over as Leon had thought.

“What?” he blinked, turning to look at you without bothering to hide his confusion. Major Krauser hadn’t exactly been by the books, as far as Leon knew, but he’d been so adamant about respecting the order of things. This whole mess had happened because he’d not wanted to step outside the bounds of red tape. Why the hell hadn’t he reported fraternization?

“Said he doesn’t care. But he also said that Reed and Hellman will.”

Leon nodded, trying to reconcile all the mismatched thoughts and solutions buzzing around his mind.

“So he’s saying he won’t stop us but if we get found out we’re fucked.”

You just nodded, the air growing heavier and heavier with each moment. Because Leon knew where this was going, just as much as you did.

Leon pursed his lips, looking down. “They asked about us during the interrogations,” he finally said. “Reed and Hellman. Valeria told me they were asking.”

It was your turn to frown, he could see it out of the corner of his eyes. He wouldn’t rat Valeria out, but you deserved to know that the agents were onto you, even if Krauser wouldn’t be the one to confirm it.

Why wouldn’t he confirm it?

“Then they’ll be watching.”

Leon nodded once, feeling emptiness beginning to set in. “So what do you want to do?” he asked, dreading the answer because he’d heard the distance in your voice last night, and he could hear it even then. He’d heard it once before, after you’d kissed him that first night and tried to convince yourself and him that it was a mistake.

The difference was that, then, he’d seen that emptiness in your eyes, too. He’d seen you retreating into yourself.

He knew you well enough now to know that the look that he saw in your eyes didn’t match the attempt at distance in your voice. Because, as you turned your gaze up towards him, Leon could see only conflict. Only you, a casualty of the crossfire between what your mind had to be telling you and what your heart wanted. When you answered, that conflict was all the more apparent. “You know what I want. But we have to be smart about this. Because if Krauser knows - and has for months now - then Reed and Hellman will pick up on it too, and they’re already gunning to cut me for this shit,” you gestured down to your ribs, and Leon swore he heard your voice waver.

“They wanted me out, too,” Leon admitted, and he watched some fear seep into your expression. “Krauser convinced them to let me stay.”

And again, Leon found himself wondering why?

“They wanted . . . why?” you asked. Why they’d wanted Leon gone - that’s what you were asking about.

“Because I broke,” he admitted, his voice hushed. Not ashamed, but overwhelmed by other emotions. “When they were hurting you, I had to get them to stop. So I was going to tell them what they wanted to know. Right before Krauser got there.”

You looked at him then, silent, your eyes piercing his own. Searching and seeing straight through him, just as you always had.

You had suffered on account of him. It was the last thing he ever wanted for you, but you’d endured it. You’d taken pain for him, in fights and behind bars, and you’d been taking pain from him for far longer. With your company, with your touch. You’d helped each other learn to walk again. It was what had made him fall in love with you, even if it had been something that happened to him at the end of your knife.

He loved you. So, he made a decision.

“Look,” he went on, turning to face you more, feeling something in him building. A resolve or a desperate hope, he wasn’t sure. “I’ll focus on training. I’ll work with Krauser, I’ll . . . I’ll only visit you with the others, if you think it’ll be less suspicious. But I’m not leaving you here by yourself. I’m not letting go of this. I can’t do that. Not if you don’t want to let go, either.”

He watched you, feeling emotion overtaking him. Bearing down on him, nearly making him shake because it had all been too much. Raccoon City. STRATCOM. All the hurts he’d suffered - that you’d suffered - and the best thing to come from it all had been this. You.

So, his throat constricting, he hoped that you felt the same way.

For a moment, he worried, because you were staring at him like he was something you could never have. He saw the regret in your eyes, the tension in your body, like you were bracing for some great pain. It all faded, though, and the corners of your mouth turned up just a bit. The dark of night graying as the sun tried to appear once more.

It was all the warning he had before your lips were on his, and Leon felt the resolve he’d built up for months, the guard he’d put around himself in that prison, crumble. Emotion and relief flooded him, and his hand shook a bit as he lifted it to your face. It was different from the kisses the two of you had stolen in the shadows. Different than the sweet one he’d given you in the hospital at Fort Benning. This was all longing. Wordless in its declaration. He held you gently, no longer needing to memorize the feel of you but trying to hold on to every detail anyway.

Because he didn’t know when he’d next get the chance to kiss you. Or hold you. Or be with you the way he wanted.

But he wasn’t letting go.

“I don’t want to let go, either,” you told him, your lips against his. “I don’t know when we’ll be able to-”

“Neither do I,” Leon admitted, as the words tore at him. “But . . . we’ll find a way.”

He had to believe that.

He had to believe that this wedge being driven between the two of you wouldn’t change what he felt. And to that end, he would watch. He would find moments of safety for the two of you, he would learn to play the spy game if it meant he could steal a few heartbeats with you. He’d wait for those moments, and he’d wait for you.

However long it took.

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Chapter Index

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #jack krauser

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thegirlwiththelantern · 8 months ago

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2024 YA Fantasy Books

I didn’t really notice it while I was putting this list together but scrolling down just to check the formatting really put into perspective how many utterly amazing books there are. There might be more YA fantasy than adult fantasy that’s pulling at me this year. Sky’s End (Above the Black #1) by Marc J Gregson | 02 / 01 / 24 – Peachtree Teen Exiled to live as a Low, sixteen-year-old Conrad…

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misshoneyimhome · 4 months ago

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Better In Time I Frederik Andersen

[Prologue] [Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter 3] [Chapter 4] [Chapter 5]

Summary: The truth has come out that your son Henry is also Freddie’s child. And faced with the revelation of a secret you’ve kept for over six years, Freddie is unsure how to respond. So, you do your best to explain and navigate the complex emotions that follow.

Tropes & warnings: Frederik Andersen x reader, friendship, best friend!Freddie, dad!Freddie

Word count: 2.7K

➼｡ﾟ

July 2023

“Look, Freddie! Look!” Henry exclaimed, proudly showing his NHL cards to Frederik. Despite his effort to put on a smile, Frederik’s mind was still processing the truth he had just learned.

“Oh, those are really cool,” he managed to say, offering the young boy a friendly smile.

Your eyes were fixed on them, your heartbeat fast and unsteady. And quickly sensing the tension, your father gently suggested Henry play inside.

“But I wanna show Freddie my cards!” Henry protested.

“You can show him later, buddy. I think mum and Freddie still need to have a grown-up talk,” your father explained softly.

“Alright,” Henry sighed. “Can I play with my LEGO in my room?”

“Of course, I’ll come with you,” your father replied, offering you a reassuring smile before leading Henry inside.

As the door closed behind them, you turned your eyes back to Frederik, who seemed frozen, still grappling with the enormity of what he'd just learned.

“Please, Freddie… say something,” you urged gently, your brows furrowed in concern as nerves gnawed at you, anxious about his reaction.

But Frederik kept you in suspense for a few more moments, still processing the revelation, before he finally spoke. “Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

It was the question you’d dreaded for years, the one you had asked yourself countless times. You knew Frederik had a right to know the truth from the moment you decided to keep his child. Every father deserved to know they had a child in the world. But despite the closeness you'd shared growing up, you hadn’t been able to tell him.

You searched for the right words, struggling to find your voice as your eyes briefly drifted away from his. “I—” you began, looking down at your fingers fidgeting in your lap before turning back to him. “I just… I didn’t want to.”

“What?” Frederik’s voice came out a bit harsher than he intended, the tension clear.

“I mean… I did want to. But… Freddie, with your career taking off the way it did, I just… I didn’t want to risk ruining anything for you…” you tried your best to explain.

But Frederik’s gaze remained serious. “So you didn’t think I deserved to know I had a son?”

“Of course I thought you deserved to know… but—” you began, your voice trembling.

“But what, y/n? For six years, I’ve had a son I didn’t even know about,” Frederik interrupted, a disappointed sigh escaping him. “And what if I hadn’t run into you today? What if Henry hadn’t invited me for dinner? I never would have…” He trailed off, his gaze shifting around, frustration and disappointment clear in his expression.

Frederik felt hurt—hurt that you hadn’t trusted him, that you’d kept this enormous secret and made the decision all by yourself.

“I’m sorry, Freddie,” you whispered, feeling the tears pressing on. “I wanted to tell you. I tried once, but… you were so excited about being the starting goalie for the Leafs. Everything was going so well for you... So, I thought if you knew about Henry then… then maybe you’d feel like you had to make a choice or something,” you explained, letting out a deep breath. “I just… I didn’t want to put you in an impossible situation like that.”

Your eyes met his with genuine concern, an apology shining through as he looked at you with a tender, searching gaze.

“Still…” Frederik began softly, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. “You could have told me… I would’ve…” But he stopped, unable to finish the thought.

“No, Freddie. You wouldn’t have done anything because I wouldn’t have let you,” you replied firmly, your voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “This was my choice, my life, and I would never have asked anything of you. You deserved everything that came your way, and you had the right to enjoy it all. Without a child.”

A heavy silence settled between you, a mix of guilt and understanding hanging in the air. You could feel the weight of his disappointment—knowing he had missed out on his son’s life for six years. But you also knew you had your reasons for not involving him. And as the seconds passed, Frederik’s expression softened, and he gave you an understanding nod.

“I’m… I’m sorry you had to do this alone,” he said gently. “Raising a child on your own like that….”

You offered a small, crooked smile, keeping your eyes on the man who had once been your closest friend. “It was alright,” you shrugged lightly. “When I came back to Copenhagen and found out I was pregnant a few months later, my dad sort of moved there as well.”

Though Frederik hadn’t asked for the details, you felt compelled to share, taking advantage of the rare moment of privacy between you.

"I see," Frederik responded with a gentle smile. "I guess that explains why my parents mentioned you all had moved from Herning."

You nodded. "Yeah, Tom moved around a lot and eventually settled in England, and my dad came to stay with me in Copenhagen. I had to move out of the room I was renting, but we found a good place just outside the city centre." You paused, watching Frederik for any sign of interest, but he simply gazed at you with a soft expression, encouraging you to continue. "My dad helped me a lot. Even though I had a good job and a place to live, preparing for a child wasn’t easy. But we managed, and everything turned out pretty good. And then when Henry was about three, we found our own place nearby, and my father thought about moving back to Herning. Which he then did this summer."

Frederik nodded again, a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "Sounds like I wasn’t needed."

"Having you around would have been amazing, Freddie," you said, offering a reassuring smile. "But you had your own life. And… even if I could, I wouldn’t change anything about it. I love Henry with all my heart. And knowing he's yours, Freddie… that only made the choice easier for me."

Frederik offered you a wider smile this time, finally realising that this was just how things were meant to be. Sure, he was still disappointed you hadn’t told him sooner, but as he considered it all, he could see why you thought it was best not to tell him—it might have distracted him from his hockey career.

"So, you're happy that he's mine?" he teased, flashing a playful smile, and you couldn't help but chuckle.

"Of course. I honestly wouldn't want him to be anyone else’s. You've always been my best friend, Freddie. We even lost our virginities to each other," you laughed softly. "I wouldn’t have it any other way."

There was another moment of silence, but this time it was filled with understanding rather than tension.

"So… what now?" Frederik asked, breaking the comfortable quiet. "I mean… now that I know."

You frowned slightly as you pondered his question. "Well, to be honest, I hadn’t really thought about it. I kind of never expected this moment to happen," you admitted gently.

Frederik nodded, his smile slowly fading as he looked down, a hint of disappointment in his expression. And noticing this, you quickly tried to think of how you both could move forward from here.

“But, um… I mean… only if you want to… maybe you could, somehow, be a part of his life?” you suggested, your words tentative yet hopeful.

Frederik's eyes widened slightly, and a small smile curved on his lips. “Really?”

“Well, we’d definitely have to think it all through, but I think, if you want to, we can work something out…” you replied, though you weren’t entirely sure of your own words. You had never prepared for this scenario, but now that it was here, you knew you had to think about the future in a new way.

“I’d really like that,” Frederik admitted, his voice filled with a quiet sincerity.

Frederik then took a deep breath, processing your words. He had no idea how this revelation might change things for him back in Raleigh, where he was currently living and playing hockey. But a part of him, one he couldn't ignore, wanted to get to know his son. Becoming a father was something he had always dreamed of, but with the demands of his career and the difficulty of finding someone to settle down with, it just hadn't seemed possible. Until now.

Yet, a new thought suddenly crossed his mind.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Freddie?”

“Does he know?” Frederik asked carefully, his tone hesitant. “About me.”

You looked at him, puzzled for a moment, but then you realised what he meant. “No,” you shook your head. “I mean, he knows he has a father who loves him but just couldn’t be around. But no, I never told him it was you.”

The sound of birds chirping softly in the background and the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze accompanied the heavy silence between you and Frederik. His eyes remained locked on yours, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his mind, as if he wanted to speak but was holding back.

You knew Frederik well, even after all these years apart. His micro-expressions were still familiar, and you could read his hesitation just like when you were kids.

So, when he finally nodded, still without saying a word, you gave him a soft smile. You had already thought about telling Henry the truth about his father many times before. And perhaps this evening, with all its unexpected revelations, was a blessing in disguise.

“But…” you broke the silence, your eyes still meeting his, “if it’s okay with you, I’d very much like to tell him.” Your voice quivered slightly, but the way Frederik’s eyes lit up and his smile widened brought you comfort.

“Yeah, of course, y/n,” he responded almost instantly, his enthusiasm making you giggle lightly.

“That’s good,” you sighed, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

The situation you'd been dreading for so many years had unexpectedly turned into a moment of relief and clarity. Frederik now knew about Henry, and you could finally be honest with your son about his father. It felt like the pieces were falling into place, despite all the anxiety and hurt you'd carried over the years.

Yet. just as you were beginning to feel at ease, Frederik's smile began to fade slightly, and he hesitated before speaking.

“Y/n?”

“Yes, Freddie?”

“Should we, uhm… tell my parents?” he asked, chuckling nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Your eyes widened in realisation, and a surge of panic hit you. “Oh shit! Your parents!” you exclaimed, glancing around as if the weight of this new realisation was too much to bear. You could see the amusement in Frederik's eyes as he chuckled again. “Oh… fuck, I hadn’t even thought about them,” you muttered, feeling a mix of nerves and anticipation.

You hadn't seen Charlotte and Ernst since the day you moved from Herning, and their kindness in helping you with boxes was a fond memory. The truth was, you feared their reaction more than Frederik’s. Charlotte had been like the mother you never had, and both she and Ernst had given you a home and support during times when your own father couldn't be there. They'd offered you food, a place to stay in emergencies, and a warm, loving environment.

The thought of revealing that you had kept a grandchild from them was daunting. Part of you had hoped that Sebastian, Frederik’s younger brother, and his girlfriend Amalie would beat you to it with their own announcement, but no. Despite their upcoming addition in December, you had given birth to the first grandchild of the Andersens.

With a deep sigh, you felt Frederik's reassuring presence across from you.

“Hey, y/n,” he said softly, sensing your worry. “Don’t worry. They’ll be thrilled to hear they have a grandson,” he added with a warm smile. “In fact, I’m sure they’ll be over the moon. They’ve always been nudging me to find a girlfriend so they could have grandchildren.”

You knew Frederik was trying to ease your tension, and just as well as you knew him, he knew you. The understanding in his eyes and his attempt to comfort you reminded you that this moment, though nerve-wracking, was one of many steps toward a new chapter.

“I know, Freddie,” you replied, trying to smile despite the anxiety. “I remember all those conversations about how they hoped you’d find someone who could support you and settle down one day.”

“Yeah, they were pretty keen about it,” Frederik said with a nostalgic smile, remembering his father’s constant reminders about finding a supportive partner.

But despite their wishes, Frederik had never found that person. He’d dated, met many wonderful women, but none had been the one.

“Hmm… we really should tell them, shouldn’t we?” you said with a worried smile.

“Only if you want to, y/n,” Frederik said, leaning across the table and reaching out for your hand. “This is your decision. I just… I hope I can be a part of it. You’ve always meant so much to me, and knowing we have a son together kind of makes me want to be involved. Shi, I just wish I could go back and…”

“Stop, Freddie,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Everything is exactly as it’s meant to be. I’m just glad I finally had the chance to tell you.”

Frederik nodded, his expression sincere. “And I’m really glad you did.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with a mix of relief and anticipation. After such an emotional evening and a significant revelation, it was nice to just be in the moment with him. And as you both shared a smile, the reality of the situation began to settle in.

“So, how are we going to tell them?”

As you closed the front door behind you, you took a moment to lean against it, closing your eyes and letting the evening's events replay in your mind.

Frederik had learned about Henry—something that had felt like a massive weight on your shoulders, now finally lifted. His reaction had been a mix of disappointment and understanding, but you were relieved that he seemed to grasp your reasons for keeping the secret.

Even after your heart-to-heart, Frederik had been nothing but kind. When your father returned to ask for your help tuck Henry into bed, Frederik accompanied you to say goodnight, his gentle presence a comforting reassurance. Perhaps Frederik just needed a glimpse of what it felt like to be a father, so you had invited him to join in.

But tucking Henry in with Frederik there was no simple feat. Henry, with his endless questions and boundless energy, made getting him to brush his teeth and put on his pyjamas a challenge.

Yet, once you and Frederik settled on Henry’s bed and Frederik began sharing stories about hockey—his experiences growing up in Herning and his time in the NHL—Henry seemed to drift off to sleep effortlessly. Frederik’s gentle storytelling had worked its magic, sending Henry straight to dreamland.

So, as you and Frederik quietly left the room and made your way to the kitchen, where he and your father exchanged a few words about the evening, you felt a profound sense of relief. Reconnecting with Frederik had been more moving than you had anticipated, and a wave of comfort and happiness washed over you.

As you finished tidying up after dinner and shared some heartfelt laughter, Frederik then prepared to leave. And standing by the front door, memories of your past together resurfaced, and you couldn't ignore the flutter of excitement in your stomach as he gave you a warm, nostalgic smile.

“So, I’ll start by talking to my parents,” he said gently. “But I can’t promise they won’t insist on having you over for dinner.”

You smiled back, the summer evening sky casting a gentle glow around you. “I think that would be lovely, Freddie. I want them to meet Henry, to get to know him if they want to.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Frederik replied, his smile widening.

It was a perfect end to a meaningful evening, and you both felt the warmth of a new chapter beginning.

#fa31 #better in time #frederik andersen x reader #frederik andersen fic #freddie andersen fic #frederik andersen imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey imagine #carolina hurricanes fic

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cellythefloshie · 1 year ago

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;; Nu är det jul igen written for @mp0625 the hockey girlies fic exchange

Summary: You spend your first Christmas with your boyfriend, Freddie Andersen. Word Count: 1.2k+

A/N: It's a miracle that I was able to get enough time to get this one done! I was worried I was going to run out of time! Thank you Mara or taking the time to coordinate the exchange! It was a pleasure writing for you this year. Happy Holidays to all, I hope enjoy!

The scent in the air could only really be defined as the holidays. It was a whimsical mixture of sugar cookies, pine needles, and the simmering pot of citrus and cinnamon that you had on the stove. It was just like how it smelt back home at Christmas every year, but this year, you weren't at home with your family. This year, you were spending Christmas with your boyfriend, Freddie.

With the tight schedule, the National Hockey League kept, the holiday season could be lonely for some. Not every man on the roster had their family living in Carolina with them or could make one quick drive or flight out of state to see them for the few short days they had off. Freddie couldn’t fly home to Denmark. The 20+ hours of travel time made the trip unjustifiable. He would have to spend most of it in the air, losing precious time with his loved ones alone on a flight. And no one deserved to spend the holiday season alone.

That was why, the moment you found out he was remaining state-side for the holidays, you canceled all of your plans.

Your mother was more than understanding, although your father was wary as to why you didn’t just bring him home for the holidays. And you had half the mind to ask, but your relationship with Freddie was, well, in your mind, still new. The two of you had been together just over a year, but with his busy schedule, you found yourself apart more often than not. And while you were head over heels for him, and couldn’t wait to introduce him to your family, the last thing you wanted was to rush things.

With little protest, home for the holidays became spending Christmas Eve in Freddie’s apartment. It didn’t have the same novelties of home, but the two of you had spent the day getting into the Christmas spirit. You had put on the simmering pot in the morning, letting its smell relax you as you decorated the apartment and put up a small artificial tree in the corner, complete with lights and ornaments. Then, the two of you made cookies together, and come sunset, the two of you snacked on a charcuterie board of cheeses, nuts, meat, and fruit while bingeing some of your favorite holiday movies.

It was the last chance the two of you had to relax, because come Christmas Day, you would be conquering cooking Christmas dinner for yourselves for the first time. Which you didn’t even want to think about until morning. The giant turkey was all too intimidating for you as you sipped a glass of wine and watched the credits roll. A single hand fell to the remote, your thumb pressing the series of buttons to close the current movie and fall back into the holiday movie catalog on Netflix. Beside you, the couch shifted, Freddie getting up from his place beside you. And you didn't think much of it. Maybe he had to use the washroom or wanted to refill the bowl with some of the caramel popcorn you had made for your movie night.

Freddie didn’t return with a bowl. No, in his hands he had a large box. It wasn’t something that came in the mail, none of those big brown packing boxes. It was nicely wrapped in bright red paper with a bow so large it spilled off the top of the box and hung down the sides.

“I was going to wait until morning, but,” he started, his words perking you up with interest.

If you didn’t have to wait, you weren’t going to say no.

Opening your arms, you let Freddie settle the box in your lap. The sheer size of it left your heart racing. It wasn’t all that heavy, which gave you no clear indication of what may be inside. You hadn’t asked for anything too grand, either. Which made you all the more eager to open it.

Fingers lipped the bow from the box, the sticker holding the ribbon to the box leaving a colorless mark behind where the adhesive tore away the color. Then, you tore at the wrapping, leaving it in large rips at your sides, removing just enough to open the box and see what was inside.

The first thing you saw was a bouquet of daisies. Which made you smile. They were fresh, or as fresh as you could get them in the winter. Freddie must have just put the finishing touches on your gift before giving it to you.

“These are gorgeous,” you smiled up at him. The two of you loved daisies. They reminded him of home, and it had quickly become one of your favorites because of it.

“There’s more,” Freddie insisted, and you handed off the flowers to keep digging for more. Beneath the daisies was white green and red tissue paper and among it a series of other gifts. Your hands went to a smaller box fist. Inside, two crystal swans from Swarovski. Your eyes went wide as they rose to meet Freddie’s.

He smiled and nodded toward the box. There was more.

Then, unwrapped, a large bottle of akvavit and two glasses. And finally, an envelope. But as you reached for it, Freddie reached in with his goalie-fast reflexes and took it into his hold.

“Hey!” you shouted playfully.

“You will get it. But first, we drink. It’s tradition,” he explained with a grin, his hand wrapping around the bottle while he tucked the envelope beneath his thick thigh.

The bottle opened with a satisfying sound, and he filled each glass halfway. Together, you raised your glasses, and each took one large gulp of the liquor that burned as it traveled down your throat. It was only when your face contorted from the burn of the alcohol that Freddie offered you the envelope again.

Placing your drink down on the coffee table, you reached out and pinched the envelope between your fingers carefully. Whatever it was, he was just as excited for you to open it as you were to receive it. The gifts you already opened were just the precursor. In this envelope was the grand finale of gifts.

It’s a beautiful card, with a snowscape. Green pine trees, and snow a glitter that left traces behind on your skin. But it was what was in the card that mattered, and they fell right into your lap as you opened the card.

Two plane tickets to Denmark.

You stared at them, your eyes wide and your jaw slacked. You weren’t expecting that, and he could see it all over your face. A laugh rumbled through him, and you could feel it as his hands found your hips to draw you into his lap. “I want you to come home with me when the season is done. Meet my family.”

A heavy breath shook you, his gaze raising to meet his warm stare. You had been on the same page the entire time but had always been too worried to ask. But he was telling you now. The two of you were serious. He wanted you to meet his family, and he could meet yours. It left you beaming, your smile reaching your eyes as you gave him an eager nod. Of course, you would go, and you sealed the agreement with a warm, simple kiss with both of his hands, cradling each of your cheeks as he drew you in. And as he held you there, he pulled back ever so slightly and muttered out a soft, Merry Christmas.

#frederik andersen #freddie andersen #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl rpf #hockey rpf #hockey imagines #hockey girlies fic exchange #happy holidays #carolina hurricanes

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nowiamcoveredinyou · 1 year ago

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Kiss

BBC Sherlock x reader

Word count:- 538

30 days writing challenge

"you're pinching my cheeks for a long time now, I'm not even chubby" I said making sure he understands that sometimes it's annoying when he just comes and pinches my cheeks. Well, annoying in a cute way.

"you don't have to be chubby darling you're round face is just so irresistible." He said, he wasn't actually looking at me, he was texting lestrade and with the other hand he was pinching my cheeks.

"Rosie is looking at us" The six year old always enjoys when Sherlock irritates me like this.

"yes, I know" still, so engulfed into the case, so engulfed into telling lestrade, 'your theory is wrong, I'm here to help just let me'.

'fine' came the reply and the tension of the detective was released. He turned to me finally, leaving my cheeks alone.

"congratulations on getting a new case" I said smiling, even though the smile didn't convinced him, he stared at me for sometimes then answered,

"what have you done again" I knew it was impossible to hide the amount of overthinking I did for an hour.

"I may have" I had to confess "done exactly what you told me not to".

"and that is..." he wanted to know the full history.

"I googled you" the biggest mistake of my life, to Google him, never google a famous person if he's your boyfriend, "and I found some misleading articles."

"so?" he asked, "if you know they're misleading then why are you bothered, you know the media just adds spices".

"they said shit about you, about us, it almost felt like they are trying to break us apart."

"and if those lies scares you, then they won" It scared me, them winning, the thought scared me.

"don't say that" I hushed him "I just... you know me, I felt like, if they were right then?"

"oh gosh" I was irritating him ain't I? "you see me all the time and you believe the people who sees me either running around the city or accompanying Scotland yard's press conference?"

Well, I see so much logic there.

"it hurts, you won't understand, Mr logic."

"I do" he said cupping my face, "I understand those lies hurt you, but they can say whatever they want, they don't see how I pinch your cheeks, how you embrace me, how I kiss you, how we make lo..."

"Rosie " I reminded him there's a child present.

"Rosie can you get your colours" it was his excuse and the six year old obeyed.

"what's your plan?" I asked smiling.

"this" saying so he kissed me, and it felt reassuring, that nothing has changed, and pulled away before Rosie came. We sat smiling at her being excited to finally fill her drawing with colors, especially when her Godfather gives her orders she's more willing to do that than ever.

"go and call John, he's been at the scene with Andersen for hours now, wonder how is he tolerating him." I chuckled at him.

"yes I am calling him, and listen" he said getting up, "don't let someone who doesn't know me, doesn't know you, us... manipulate us again".

"I'll try" I replied.

"good" he kissed my forehead and booped Rosie's nose, then he went to the living room calling John as his voice was heard screaming again, "you got only this much in two hours? I can guarantee you there was..." and so on.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock x reader #sherlock x y/n

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konglindorm · 1 year ago

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Shards of Glass: Chapter 1

I lost Kai when we were nine. He went missing when we were seventeen.

He was my best friend and brother and half my heart. It’s funny, how those feelings don’t go away. He was practically a stranger, by the time he disappeared, but he was still all those other things, too.

(Manda’s still half convinced I’m in love with him. But Manda’s favorite game is seven minutes in heaven, and I’d rather get a root canal than go on a date, so there tends to be a fundamental breakdown in communication when we talk about that kind of thing.)

Kai never came home Saturday night. His grandma reported him missing Sunday morning. By Monday—

Monday was a snow day. It had been going on and off since Friday night, nonstop since Sunday afternoon. My parents were at work, and I wanted to keep Grandma company, but she was busy, with the police, and the—and I didn’t want to be in the way. So I heard it from the news, not from her.

Local teen, missing two days. Last seen snowboarding at 3pm on Saturday. Snowboard washed up on the far side of the river. A glove and a boot found on the hilltop. Local teen missing, presumed dead.

Kai missing, presumed dead.

Manda called me right after it aired. “I know he was—I’m sorry.”

“Kai’s not an idiot,” I said.

“No one said he was.”

“They did. They just did, on channel six—you think Kai would go down like that? Into the river? Everyone knows you don’t take the hill at that angle, because the Mississippi doesn’t always freeze.”

“Okay, but Gerda, if it was already dark when he—”

“He’s not stupid enough to be out in the dark alone, that close to the river. He’s not, he wouldn’t, Manda. He wouldn’t.”

“Okay,” she said again, humoring me. “So what do you think happened?”

“I don’t know. I just know he’s not dead. He—he can’t be. Not Kai.”

Kai in the dark, squinting at me behind fogged up glasses. Kai laughing as he packed a snowball, Kai biking in the sun the day the training wheels came off, Kai in braces and glowers, Kai calling me names, Kai waiting at the back door with the snow falling at his back. Not Kai. Not Kai.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. And that meant I had to find him.

Boots—the heavy black ones that laced in the front. Snow pants—shiny, black, puffy, ugly, warm. The heaviest coat, the thickest mittens, with thin gloves beneath. My ice skating socks. Two scarves. That hat Grandma knitted for me for Christmas. Six granola bars in my pocket.

Kai was a missing person, presumed dead. He was probably more than six granola bars away.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I grabbed a seventh granola bar.

I had walked across town, down the hill, along the river, and into the woods, deep and deep and deeper, before the cold seeped into my shoes, before I realized what I was doing.

I sat abruptly on the snowy ground. I was going to search for my likely-dead evil neighbor, alone, on a Monday afternoon in January, with nothing but the clothes on my back.

He wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. I stood up and pulled out the first granola bar.

I’ve spent my whole life one wall away from Kai. Our families live in the two units of a townhouse, and our bedrooms share a wall. When we were kids we had a tin can telephone—we used one of Grandma’s needles with the biggest eye to pull the thread through the screens in our windows, then attached each end to a can inside our rooms. Whenever one of us wanted to talk, we’d knock on the wall, and the other would know to go pick up their can.

We had to replace the string a few times, and the last one fell apart years ago, but the can still lives on my dresser, with a million other things Mom keeps telling me to throw away.

The last few years, if Kai wanted to talk to me, he’d knock on the wall, and I’d go downstairs and meet him in the backyard. I don’t knock anymore—I learned a long time ago that the only way to have a relationship with Kai is on his terms.

Manda says that’s unhealthy. I say Manda’s a hypocrite—she forgives people who keep hurting her, too. She says it’s different because Kai’s not my family. But he might as well be. You don’t stop loving people just because they become unlovable. I may not have liked Kai much, the last few years. But I’ll always do anything for the sake of the person he used to be.

I know it started when we were nine, the trouble. That was the year Kai got glasses. It was also the year he got mean. (Unrelated.) He just got meaner and meaner. He had a special talent for mimicry that showed up that year, and he just—

There was a huge rosebush between our front doors, and it made the biggest, brightest, best-smelling red roses I’ve ever seen, prettier even than the ones you can get from a florist. We were sitting just in front of it, holding very, very still, because there were a bunch of bees around. (Kai always liked bees.) And all of the sudden he shouted.

I asked him if he’d got stung, and he shook his head. “Feels like something flew into my eye.”

A minute later a bee landed on his hand, and he caught it—grabbed it by the wings.

“What are you doing?”

He shrugged. “I wanted a closer look,” he said. And he held it up really close to his face—I think he needed the glasses by then—but it was struggling, so it was hard to really look at. So he grabbed the stinger and pulled it out—because losing their stingers kills them—and then it wasn’t moving anymore, and he could get a better look.

And it was so mean, and I was shouting at him, and then he just—dropped it, and he said, “I don’t—I don’t know why I did that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

We dug a little hole and buried the bee under the oak tree in the backyard. But that was when it started. The day he killed that bee. It happened slowly. He started mocking people and stomping on ants and being rude to Grandma. But only sometimes. Other times he was nice. Other times he was still my best friend. And I just kept hoping he’d grow back out of it.

(When your best friend grows up to be a jerk, you never suspect it’s because of magic.)

I was twelve by the time I admitted to myself that Kai and I weren’t friends anymore. I was sleeping over at his house—we were already a few years out from being sleepover friends, really. But my parents have always travelled a lot, and until I turned fifteen and they decided I could stay home alone overnight, I stayed with Grandma and Kai.

Kai still had his bunk bed back then—one bed for him, and one for a friend, and that friend was always me.

I don’t even remember what he said. He’d been saying horrible things, and I’d been trying to ignore them, for a long time by then. I didn’t hang on to the things he said—I always just tried to forget them as soon as possible. But whatever he said that night, it upset me, more than the things he said usually did. It might have been about my parents—my adoptive parents, not my bio ones. Kai would never go there, even at his worst. Both sets are sore subjects, but there are lines Kai won’t cross, and there were more of them when we were twelve.

My parents are my uncle—my bio mom’s brother—and his wife, really. My bio parents died in a car crash, and they were the only family left. At least, the only family we know about, because my bio dad was from Taiwan, and no one knew if he had any family left there or how to contact them. My parents adopted me because I was family, and it was the right thing to do. They love me, I think. They’ve had me since before I turned two. But I know they never wanted kids. So I’m touchy about it. That would have hurt my feelings, more than most things Kai might have said when we were twelve.

Whatever he said, I climbed down from the top bunk and went to Grandma’s room; she was sitting up in bed, reading.

“I don’t want to sleep in there. Kai’s being mean.”

Grandma sighed and put down her book. She was hoping he’d grow out of it, too, but no luck, no matter how many groundings and timeouts and whatever he got. “Well, maybe you’re getting to be at the age where you shouldn’t be sharing a room.”

After that I slept on the pullout couch, until Mom and Dad let me just stay home.

I was thoroughly lost and down two granola bars by the time I thought of Grandma. (His grandma, not mine, not really.) To be told Kai was probably dead, and then that I’d gone missing—well, they’d probably find my body before Kai’s, even if he really was dead, because I didn’t go barreling toward the Mississippi like a first-rate idiot.

We’re all she has left. To lose us both in the same weekend—

And my parents. My parents—I’m the only family they have, too, and they’d definitely blame themselves if I wandered into the woods and froze to death when they were both working late again—and I knew I was going to freeze to death. I was beyond numb. I kept starting to fall asleep, and then the panic would wake me. I had no idea how long I’d been out—I didn’t have a watch, and it gets dark so early in the winter, it could have been less than an hour, or it could have been three or four. No one would miss me probably until morning—when Mom and Dad got home they’d just assume I was already in bed, so either they’d find my bed empty in the morning, or they’d leave early and someone at school would be the first to realize I was gone.

I was going to freeze to death searching for a stupid jerk who was probably dead already, and there was no way Manda would ever believe I wasn’t in love with him after this—or anyone else either, and why should that even matter, when I was about to freeze to death?

We live in a cul-de-sac, with a huge circle of grass at the end, where the turn-around is—I guess it belongs to the city. But we used to build snow forts there every winter. Me and Kai—we were the only kids on the block, back then. There are some younger kids now, and I’ve seen them do the same thing.

It was always a huge fort—we’d work on it for weeks. The plow would pile all the snow from the street there, so we had plenty of material to work with. We’d dig tunnels into the big piles the plow left. We were in there all day on weekends, and over Christmas break, until Grandma or my parents came to dig us out.

Grandma would never come into the fort—she said her knees were too old—but she used to bring us each a thermos of hot chocolate while we were working. We’d go into the biggest cavern we’d dug out so far, and sit on the packed-down snow on the ground, pressed tight together, to drink it. No one makes hot chocolate like Grandma—I’ve watched her do it, and she just uses the cheap powder like everyone else, but hers tastes better.

I was sitting on the ground in the woods, imagining Kai was pressed into my side, thinking of Grandma’s hot chocolate. And I wasn’t cold anymore, and I knew I was dying.

Then I woke up.

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