Chapter Text
March woke up to the door being unlocked. He sprang out of bed, wondering how the hell someone had broken in, before grabbing the gun on his nightstand (why are there guns everywhere?) and attempted to get a peak of who had broken in. The shadow in the doorway was muscular, the same height as March, and was… wiping his shoes on the mat and taking them off? When did robbers become so respectful? When the figure turned around and waved at March, he truly thought he had gone insane until he recognized the figure as Courtland.
“Christ! You scared the shit out of me!” He kicked his gun back into the bedroom, approaching his nephew with a sigh.
“Sorry about that, I thought you were awake.” He reasoned, glancing around the house. “This is nicer than the old place.” He pointed out.
“Yeah, sure, everyone’s awake at 6 AM.” He mumbled, waving off the compliment. “We’re just, you know, here temporarily until the ‘old place’ gets rebuilt.” Court nodded, understanding what he meant.
“Do you know when Casey’s coming?” He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly.
“No clue, and why's that the first thing you ask me after showing up to my house insanely early in the morning?” March questioned.
“I know it’s weird to keep asking about him while there's the whole thing with Ryland, but god, I haven't heard from him in years. He never really told us how he was doing after he moved out.” Courtland sighed, cracking his knuckles anxiously.
“I get it, kid; he’s your younger brother. I would be worried too.”
“Don’t call me kid, I’m a grown man.” He looked directly at March, cracking a smile.
“Whatever you say, kid,” March smirked back. Court playfully rolled his eyes. Colt had woken up by now, I guess, spotted Court, and immediately ran to him and hugged him. He buried his face in Court’s shoulder, while Court rubbed his back comfortingly. “Hey, Colt.” He smiled into Colt’s hair, hugging him slightly tighter.
“Don’t fuckin’ ‘Hi, Colt’ me. You know they told us you died in a prison riot? And then you randomly fuckin’ call me and say that you're alive and you're in the hospital and you have an adopted daughter and then you fuckin’ abandon us again.-” He didn’t breathe between his words, rambling on before eventually just quietly buried his face further into Court.
“I know. I know, I’m sorry.” He whispered, still rubbing Colt’s back in a circular motion. March couldn’t help but smile at the reunion. They hugged in silence for a bit, before Colt pulled away, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat.
“Right. So, about Ryland. What did he text you exactly?” Colt asked, before pausing. “Wait, he texted you? You could text him this whole time?” He seemed offended.
“He texted me on my American number; I only got to read it a week or two ago when I returned to the States,” Court explained. "Not to mention that you cut everyone off and got a new number."
“Uh-huh… Whatever. Anyways, what’d he text you?”
March wanted to pay attention to this conversation- he really did, but Jesus Christ, it was boring. How was he a PI and got bored by any detective work? He has no clue.
“He basically texted me that he was going to work with the government for a bit for something space-related and said he wouldn’t be able to be contacted if I wanted to reach out. Nothing related to him actually having to GO to space, just that he was a researcher for what I'm assuming was the Hail Mary project.” Court recited, not having his phone on him to show the message. Apparently it got shot out of his hand or something; he had no fucking clue.
“Well shit. That isn’t helpful. Uncle, what’d the news say about the scientists? The ones that died?” Colt snapped, turning to March.
“Somethin’ about a casualty causing the main and backup scientists to pass, and the news said Ryland bravely stepped up to take their place.” Colt’s lips pursed into a thin line.
“That’s such bullshit. I’m not saying he’s like a selfish asshole, but he would never step up to go on a suicide mission! He’s not reckless like that, not on such short notice!” Colt’s hands found his hair, pulling on it anxiously, and Court quickly took hold of his younger brother's hands to steady him.
“Colt. Calm down, okay? We believe you, but I'm going to need you to take a breath.” Court held Colt’s hands tightly, making direct eye contact, breathing slowly with Colt. March had no clue how he did it, or how he was so good with emotions and feelings or whatever. Colt mumbled an apology.
“Six? Are you guys done reuniting so I can come in and meet your family?” A teen girl’s voice came in through the cracked front door, sounding annoyed and sassy, which was fitting.
“Christ Claire, yes. Sorry I left you out there for so long.” Court jumped, guiding her in. He had medium-length straight brown hair and dark brown eyes. “This is Claire. I’m taking care of her right now and couldn’t find anyone she could stay with because of… government stuff, so I hope it's not too much trouble I brought her.” Court introduced her to Colt and March, who waved at her awkwardly. Healy walked in, seeing a 14-year-old in the doorway and looked very confused.
“You must be Jackson Healy, nice to meet you.” Court turned to him, extending his hand to shake Healy’s. Healy took his hand and shook it firmly.
“Hello, Courtland. Just Healy is fine.” Healy greeted Court, staring him in the eyes for a moment before turning to Claire. “And this is?”
“Claire. Nice to meet you, Mr. Healy.” She waved.
“Nice to meet you too, Miss Claire.” He nodded slightly.
Everyone's introductions were cut very short when another knock on the door rang and echoed through the house.