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The summer breeze bubbled happily, swinging past the trees, toying with Felix's hair. He had been back a week, back from the world which seemed so far away yet still so much a part of him, and the dust had started to settle.
Of all the boys, Felix had been most reluctant to leave the strange alter-ego of their world. Memories of his brother's accident had swum around his mind, chasing vicious circles. He couldn't forget the way Oscar had looked, helplessly sprawled across the flower-speckled grass.
He might've stayed, if not for the fact that nothing had been the same. Like mist in a valley, it was beautiful, yet horribly impracticle, dangerous even.
The return to their world had shocked the goth to his roots, sending him reeling at the staggering ammount of happiness his parents, and friends, had expressed, the evident relief on his dad's face when the boys had come tumbling out of the bush.
It wasn't something Felix had ever thought he would see again.
He remembered one time, when he was six, going to a circus Ellen had insisted upon, to which he had vehemently agreed. Happy as larks, they had flittered sprials around the rides and stalls, until they took off a little too fast for his parents.
Felix rembered the crushing realisation that they were lost, remembered Ellen in her Tinkerbell dress telling him she couldn't see his mum, could recall the immense feeling of loss and fear.
When his parents finally found them, a whole three minutes later, it was as though the sun had banished the somber clouds to the far corners of the earth, sending the rain with them.
Felix could compare his father's expression then to when he had returned from the other world, a spot the difference of staggering difficulty.
It was more than he could ever hope for.
Felix didn't think that anyone would be as glad as the boys themselves were to be home; he was surprised to find that things had changed. People had cared. They had, for once, felt his absence. Perhaps, it would take time to fully heal the pain of yesterday, but today meant "Good Mornings", brief nods when he entered the room, so who knew? Tomorrow might even be "How was your day?".
Even so, tomorrow could be near or far. Felix was content to stay in the moment. Especially since the moment involved a picnic in the park.
The distant squeak of swings, the twittering of birds, did nothing to hide the lighthearted conversation shared. Sitting crosslegged on the checkerboard picnic mat was Andy, grinning as he unpacked the busload of food his Nainai had insisted on him bringing.
Mia tentatively chatted with Ellen, one hand still entwined with Sam, who was attempting to steal away as much food as he could before the others noticed.
Jake had a casually flirtatious arm thrown around Andy's shoulder, whilst Oscar had been helped to the ground by Felix when they had first arrived, and now occupied the space to his right, bangs hanging across his eyes in a way startlingly similar to Felix's.
Things were good, for now, the gentle flow of the world pushing them forward with grace. It was a welcomed break from the energetic stumbling the group had gotten used to.
"I think," Jake began, raising a plastic cup with '4Real it's Beer dudes' scrawled across it in messy handwriting. "That we should have a toast. To home."
A chorus of voices responded like an echo, as each raised their simarly inscribed cups.
"To home."