Chapter Text
The sunlight filtered through Davey’s bedroom window, his arm tossed over Jack’s waist and face pressed into the shorter boy’s hair. It was peaceful in their little room, which was situated close to the palace. They weren’t technically allowed to live in the many towers, and Jack expressed distaste for spending any more time at the palace than he had to. So they’d gotten a small house nearby, funded in part by Katherine. She wouldn’t take no for an answer.
They’d decorated the small house with their various knick knacks— Jack’s charcoal pictures and paintings, Davey’s various papers of royal documents and books, and even a few of Katherine’s articles, all sprawled on the table and chairs and pinned on the walls. A shoe that probably belonged to Specs had found its way under a chair, and Les’ hat had been hung off a chair. Their house had slowly become a hub for visiting friends, and this was one of the few days where they weren’t interrupted and woken by a screaming horde of young men.
“Go back to sleep.” Jack mumbled when he felt Davey shifting to sit up, grasping at his sleeve. “Ya don’t gotta work today, right?” His accent was even thicker when he was tired, but Davey spoke fluent tired Jack. “It’s the princess day.”
“Yes, Francis, it’s the anniversary of us bringing Kath home.” Davey said softly, rolling his eyes a bit. How could Jack be so smart yet so dumb at the same time? It was honestly endearing. Frustrating, of course, but endearing. “Hard to believe it was two years ago.”
Two years ago, they’d been enemies. Two years ago, they’d been taken captive by a girl with magic hair, shared a heart to heart with ruffians and thugs, and accidentally rescued the missing princess. And they’d found each other.
Davey mulled over everything that had changed as he ran his fingers through Jack’s hair— it was getting long, he was almost tempted to cut it, but he loved stroking it.
Spot had gone on to play piano for some of the most famous people in the country— who knew that such short fingers would play so well? He’d made Jack cry, which, to be entirely fair, wasn’t all that difficult to do.
Race managed to find love. Or, at least, he’d realized that he’d had exactly what he wanted the whole time, which was a classic Race. He was pretty much Spot’s biggest fan, going to as many of his performances as he possibly could without getting kicked out.
A few of them had started a small theater for kids— a little puppet show, some baked goods, and even one of the guys took up miming. It was a surprisingly booming business, Davey thought. Crutchie had been their manager for a while, keeping them from going too extravagant, and making sure their jokes were more child friendly than they had originally planned.
“Is Kath comin’ over?” Jack mumbled, face pressed to Davey’s shoulder. He lazily kissed his collarbone, which made Davey’s cheeks go red.
“‘Course she is.” Davey said gently, trying to keep his cool. “Just the three of us, okay? All day. She should be here any moment.”
Jack groaned, dramatic as always, before untangling their limbs, rubbing at his eyes. “Sarah not coming?” He asked as he stumbled around their room, trying to find clothes to wear. “They ain’t left each others’ side in ages.”
Davey had been knighted last year, which meant that, by association, his family was at least minor royalty. And with that came a closer friendship between Katherine and Sarah, the two becoming inseparable. Headstrong, stubborn, smart and witty, the two kept pace with each other, and they meshed so well together it was almost scary. “Kath says she wants to spend her day with her boys. No Sarah this time.” If Davey didn’t know better, he’d say that Jack was in love with his twin.
He slipped out of bed, getting dressed, before helping Jack with the last few buttons of his shirt, smoothing out his collar. “Since when are we her boys? I ain’t no one’s boy.” Jack said huffily, making Davey laugh a bit.
“Sometimes. And sometimes you’re my boy. Sometimes you’re Kath’s boy. Sometimes you’re Crutchie’s, or Race’s, or even sometimes Spot’s.” Jack wrinkled his nose, and Davey laughed again. “My point is, yeah, we’re Katherine’s boys. At least for today.”
It took less than an hour for Katherine to arrive. She’d forgone the crown and fancy dresses of the palace, as she so often did, wearing a long, colourful skirt she’d sewn herself and a nice shirt. By that time, Jack was as energetic and chipper as always, and despite not being a teenager anymore, he still acted like one, which eased the slightly awkward atmosphere.
Then she dropped the bombshell. “I wanna go back.”
Davey almost dropped the glass he was holding. “You want to what?” He asked, with an air of incredulity. “You mean, back…” He gestured vaguely towards the direction of the forest.
“Did they soften your brains at the palace? We ain’t going back there.” Jack said with a sort of venom. They had enough to deal with from those days. Hell, Jack had almost died there.
“I want to go back, and I’m going, whether you go with me or not.”
And that was how Jack and Davey found themselves pulling up their horses outside the tower hidden back in the woods.
It was looking a little worse for wear. It didn’t seem as bright and youthful as it once was, as if it grew in the past two years, and not exactly in a flattering way. The paint was peeling, the window was open, and it gave off an air of menace. Katherine hated it, but she hefted the rope around her shoulder. She’d kept in practice, with ropes and things, anything that was handy. So, with concentration, she swung the rope, easily looping the end around the hook above the window on her second try.
“Ready to climb?” Asked Katherine, some of her stubborn fire making itself known. She tugged the rope again, before climbing up the side, using the rope to brace herself. Davey and Jack glanced at each other.
Then, with a sigh of resignation, Jack started climbing up, one foot in front of the other, easy.
Davey gave a small smile. “What the heck are you doing?” He said, as if remembering a distant memory. Jack glanced back at him, a grin spreading across his face.
“Heck? Use a real curse, pretty boy. Say fuck like the rest o’ us.” Jack teased, turning back up to the tower window, and Katherine, who was already halfway up. She was, quite honestly, rather insane. “Funny, that was almost exactly two years ago. Time wise, at least.”
Finally, they were too tired to speak, before Jack hauled himself into the room. “If ya hit me over the head, Kath, please go for a different spot than usual, it stings like a motherfucker.”
But Katherine just stood there, staring at the carnage. She hadn’t been back since that day. The floor was coated in a fine layer of dust. Thank god she’d started wearing shoes, otherwise her foot would have been sliced open by the glass still shattered across the floor and added fresh blood to the dried, sticky mass over by the wall. Davey pulled himself up, climbing through the window. Odd, how he’d barely been there for about four hours all at once and it still made him feel like he wasn’t supposed to be there.
“It’s so… different.” Katherine seemed to be in a trance, walking over the scattered glass and over to the counter, her tiny oven, the small case of papers in the corner, all covered with a layer of dust. She trailed her fingers over it, the gray clinging to her fingers. She brushed her hands off. “It’s strange.” Her voice was soft for once, not cocky or confident. She just sounded… emotional. “I never expected this to happen. I lived here for eighteen years, and now everything’s… different.”
“Well, sometimes, different isn’t bad.” Davey spoke up, walking over to her, more carefully avoiding the shards of glass. “It’s just new. And new takes a little getting used to.”
New was waking up next to a handsome boy and being able to look at his face without worrying about being killed for feeling for him. New was being able to provide for his family with ease. New was knowing that Les and Sarah had a safe home for as long as they lived. New was feeling like he had a purpose in life. New was being able to trust someone with his life, someone who could hold his hand and help him through everything, people he could support and be supported by. New was sitting with his feet dangling from the windowsill of the tower, looking out over the sun shining on the trees stretching all the way back to the palace, dappling the leaves, with Katherine’s head on his shoulder and Jack’s arm wrapped around his waist.
New was feeling like he was home.