Chapter Text
The fresh snow on the forest floor had two sets of footprints pressed into it: one, a pair of worn boots tracing a steady path through the trees, and a second, bird-like set, crisscrossing to and fro over the first.
“No. 26, it’s this way,” Burke called. BonBon swiveled their head around from where they’d been trying to catch one of the snowflakes spinning through the air to look at Burke, who had stopped a few paces ahead. Burke shifted the weight of the covered basket he’d brought as BonBon rejoined him and the two began once more to make their way through the woods.
Though the sun had begun to dip low in the sky, stretching shadows long against the snow, the path to the cabin was still familiar to him, even after all these years.
Soon, the tall pines gave way to a small clearing, at the center of which sat a small wooden building. Warm light spilled out from the windows, setting the nearby snow aglow in shades of orange and gold. Burke’s heart stirred. It looked so much like the way it had so many years ago. It was as if they had stepped into a memory.
Beside him, BonBon cheered. “We’re here! The forest!”
Burke couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face at their excitement. BonBon bounded ahead of him toward the door. Making his way to join them at the front stoop, Burke knocked.
The door opened a few moments later and Bane stared out at them, blinking in surprise. He wore a thick, knitted sweater, as green as the pines around them. He looked between Burke and BonBon for a moment before his expression melted into a warm smile.
“Burke, BonBon,” he greeted, disbelief colouring his tone. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hello! Hi, Bane!” BonBon chimed. “We’re here!”
“I can see that,” Bane chuckled. “What brings you all this way?” He looked to Burke curiously, a touch of concern in the crease of his brow.
“It’s Christmas,” Burke said, awkwardly dusting the snow off the cloth he’d used to cover the basket. “We thought it would be good to visit. …Pardon the intrusion.”
“No, it’s no trouble at all. Please, come in.” Bane opened the door wider, stepping aside to let them through. Burke nodded his head for BonBon to follow and the pair entered, closing the door behind them.
The inside of the cabin was bright and warm, lit by the large fireplace and a number of hanging lanterns. The quiet crackle of flames soothed the chill from Burke’s bones and he instructed BonBon to warm up near the fire. The robot didn’t feel the cold the same way that humans did, but letting their mechanisms ice up wasn’t good for them, either.
The smell of savoury stew drifted up from a cast-iron pot simmering on the stove as Burke placed the basket on the large wooden table in the kitchen. The nostalgic scent of rosemary and thyme tugged at his heart and his chest ached.
As he offered to hang Burke’s coat, Bane caught the inventor’s stomach growling. He looked at him curiously. “Have you eaten yet?”
Burke tipped his head down so the brim of his hat obscured his face, and he began fussing with the basket cover in a failing attempt to hide his embarrassment. In all the excitement of the evening, Burke had forgotten he hadn’t had supper yet. He pushed the basket toward Bane.
“We brought food,” he mumbled. “To share.”
Bane smiled in a way Burke hadn’t seen in ages.
“The stew should be ready soon,” he said, placing a hand on the basket. “Let’s make a meal of it.”
Soon, they were sitting on the old couch in front of the fire, bowls in hand. On the other side of the room, BonBon sat at the edge of the rug, sorting a box of carved wooden toys into neat little lines. Bane and Burke watched them as they ate.
“I got your gift,” Burke said, after a while. “And your letter.” He carefully pulled the folded paper from his pocket.
“I’m glad to hear that that gentleman was able to deliver it,” Bane said.
“Gentleman?” Burke scoffed. “I was about to tear my hair out with him around.”
“Oh?” He sounded surprised. With a sigh, Burke quickly explained the events of the past week, from the magician first appearing in his house — decorating, to the series of magic shows he’d performed each evening, and finally, his great escape.
“Too clever for his own good,” Burke grumbled. “And smug about it, too.”
“I’m sorry,” Bane laughed. “I only asked him to give you the gift. Sounds like it was quite a handful.”
“He’d better hope I never catch him…” Burke huffed.
“Still,” Bane said, “I’m happy to hear it was delivered.” He looked down at the bowl in his hands, a touch of melancholy dimming his smile. “I was worried about you.”
“About me? What for?”
“I’m not sure,” he said. “It’s this time of year. The snow. I’ve been thinking a lot lately. About… before.” His brow furrowed as he searched for the right words. “I just… wanted to know how you were.”
Burke looked down at the letter still in his grip. How he’d been? How had he been?
The last week had been a whirlwind of uninvited chaos. Between tracking down all of BonBon’s missing parts and managing the small crowds of people that the magician invited into his home each evening, it had been one headache after another.
And yet…
When the commotion from the magic shows had ended, the house had been so quiet. At the time, he’d thought finally ridding himself of the magician and his shows would be a relief, but the silence left in their wake had been vast. It was a vacuous absence, one he’d first become far too acquainted with in the aftermath of that long-ago disaster.
He missed them. In that emptiness, he always missed them.
“...Burke?”
He realized his hands were shaking as he clenched Bane’s letter. Across the couch, his friend’s face was painted with concern.
And upon seeing him, the silence felt a little less vast.
He’d missed Bane, too.
“I’m fine,” he said, taking a breath to steady his hands. Bane looked ready to protest, but Burke continued. “You were right, though. I’ve been thinking about it, too. I think that’s why I came here.” Despite himself, Burke couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that slipped out as he said, “I think I needed some company.”
Bane’s expression softened. “If it’s any comfort,” he said, settling back into the couch, “I think I did, too.”
The evening went on. They talked and they ate. They shared the desserts that Burke had brought along with the cake, and they laughed over cups of wine. As BonBon proudly showed a puzzled Bane the torn half of a scarf they were wearing, Burke leaned his head against the back of the couch, watching the snow fall in flurries through the window. Outside, snowflakes whirled about on frigid winds. But here in the cabin, the three of them were warmed by the roaring fire and the thick, wool blankets Bane kept on the couch. Here in the cabin, Burke could hear the metallic clanks and clangs of BonBon bustling about and the quiet rumble of Bane’s voice. Here, now, the loneliness and regret didn’t feel quite so big.
Burke was happy.
And when he let himself breathe, it was as uncomplicated as that.
Tonight, he was happy.