Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

A sad-looking plant pot sat there, right on Sebastian's bedside table. The flower in it drooped sadly, its beauty fading, but somehow still clinging on. The iris petals, once vibrant with blues and purples, now hung limply, losing their colour bit by bit.

Sebastian mirrored the wilted flower. He could hardly muster the strength to drag himself out of bed any more. His mouth felt constantly parched, and his stomach twisted in hunger, yet he couldn't bring himself to touch the food his mother left by his door. The plates just sat there on his desk, stacking up slowly, decaying like everything else in his life.

He promised to water it, to keep it alive. A promise to Sam to prove he was trying to get better but every day was the same.

He didn’t get better.
He was stuck in the same loop that had consumed his life since he was a child, a young naive and innocent child that didn’t deserve to have been exploited.

Sebastian felt drained, like he couldn't remember a day when his arms didn't ache beneath his sleeves or when the taste of smoke didn't linger in his mouth. But weirdly, he found some twisted comfort in those sensations. They were familiar, like old friends he couldn't shake off.

A gentle knock on his bedroom door pulled him out of his daze. He lay there, wrapped up in the cocoon of his bedsheets, unwilling to face the world outside. The door creaked open, and his mother's warm, soothing voice filled the room. "Hey there, time to rise and shine," she said softly, her presence adding a little weight to his bed as she settled beside him. Her hand found its way to his shoulder, a silent gesture of comfort.

"I know it's tough, honey. I just wish you'd open up to me," Robin said gently, her fingers tracing reassuring circles on his shoulder. She studied her son with a mix of concern and understanding. "I've been where you are, you know. But staying holed up here won't help. How about we go for a walk together? Just you and me, no distractions from your sister or your dad."

"He's not my dad," Sebastian interjected, his voice tinged with bitterness.

Robin sighed softly, nodding in acknowledgment. "Okay, not Demetrius then. Just us two, sound good?"

Sebastian let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he shifted uncomfortably. "Not up for it," he mumbled, his voice barely audible. Truth be told, the thought of getting out of bed felt like an impossible task. His body throbbed with an ache that seemed to have taken up permanent residence, a constant reminder of his struggles. He couldn't quite explain it, but the pain seemed to sink deeper into his bones with each passing day, an unwelcome companion that refused to leave him alone.

She let out a sigh, not out of disappointment but more out of concern, her worry evident in the furrow of her brows. Her fingers continued to trace soothing circles on his shoulder as she racked her brain for something else to say or do. "How about I whip up something for you to eat?" she suggested, her gaze drifting to the collection of untouched dishes on her son's desk. "Looks like you haven't had a proper meal in a while."

"Can't stomach it," Sebastian muttered, finally turning to face his mother as she started gathering the plates. "I just feel sick, constantly," he confessed with a heavy sigh. "It's like every bite is just... repulsive." he confessed, his words weighed down by the burden of his truth.
Robin's heart sank at her son's words, the worry etched into the lines of her face deepening. She paused in her task of clearing the plates, her gaze softening as she knelt down beside him. "Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, reaching out to gently stroke his cheek. "I hate seeing you like this."

She took a moment to gather her thoughts before speaking again, her voice gentle but tinged with sadness. "I understand, Seb. I really do," she said softly, her eyes reflecting her empathy. "But you need to take care of yourself, even if it's just a little bit at a time."

Her hand moved to squeeze his reassuringly. "Let's find something light for you, okay? We'll take it slow." She offered him a small, understanding smile, hoping to coax him into accepting her help.
Sebastian met his mother's gaze with a heavy heart, his own eyes clouded with doubt and despair. "I appreciate it, Mum," he began, his voice tinged with resignation, "but I don't think anything can make this better." He sighed, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

"I've tried," he continued, his tone weary. "But it's like... I'm stuck in this endless cycle of feeling awful, and nothing ever changes." He shook his head slightly, a sense of hopelessness creeping into his voice. "I just don't see how anything you do can help."

Despite his words, there was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a silent plea for understanding. Deep down, he longed for relief from the darkness that consumed him, even if he couldn't quite believe it was possible. With a heavy sigh, he finally turned to meet her eyes, his own filled with a mixture of resignation and sadness.
"I know you're trying, Mum," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't think it'll make a difference." He reached out to squeeze her hand briefly, a fleeting attempt to convey his gratitude. "I just... I don't know how to fix this," he admitted, his voice cracking slightly with emotion. "I'm sorry."
Robin's heart ached at her son's words, but she refused to let despair take over. She met his gaze with unwavering determination, her eyes reflecting a deep well of love and concern. "Sebastian, listen to me," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "I won't pretend to have all the answers, but I refuse to give up on you."

She leaned in closer, her hand reaching out to cup his cheek, her touch warm and comforting. "Sebastian, darling," she began softly, her voice tinged with determination. "You don't have to do this alone. I'll be here every step of the way, no matter what."
She brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead, her touch tender and reassuring. "We'll figure this out together, okay? You're not alone in this battle." Her eyes conveyed a steadfast resolve, a silent promise to stand by him through thick and thin. "I love you, sweetheart. And I'll never give up on you."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of her lips, radiating warmth and reassurance. "You're not alone in this, Sebastian," she whispered, her words a quiet promise. "We'll find a way through, I promise."
"Alright, how about we give that flower of yours a good drink, huh? I bet it'll perk up with a little TLC," Robin suggested with a warm smile, trying to inject some positivity into the gloom. She looked for an empty glass from his desk, her movements gentle and deliberate. “Your buddy would probably dig seeing it perk up again. It might take a while, I get it. But I'm not going anywhere, kiddo. I've got your back through thick and thin. You're my boy, and there's nothing in the world that'll change that."

She paused, offering a small smile to him once more. “We'll get there together, kiddo. I'm not going anywhere," she reassured him, her voice filled with unwavering support. "You're my son, and I'll do whatever it takes to help you through this."

With a tender smile, she leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, her touch tender and comforting. She brushed away a tear from Sebastian's cheek, her thumb tracing a soothing path. "I'm your momma, remember? You can't scare me off, no matter what," she said with a playful wink, her love and determination shining through. "So let's do this together, okay?"
Sebastian blinked back the tears that had welled up in his eyes, a mixture of gratitude and uncertainty swirling within him. He couldn't help but be touched by his mother's unwavering support, yet a part of him still struggled to believe that things could get better.

He managed a small, hesitant smile, his voice barely above a whisper. "Thanks, Mum," he murmured, his words heavy with emotion. "I'll try... for you."
He reached out to squeeze her hand, finding solace in her presence. "I love you, too," he added softly, a flicker of hope reigniting within him at the thought of facing his struggles with his mother by his side.
Robin's smile widened, her heart swelling with pride at her son's willingness to try. She gently brushed a stray strand of hair from his face, her eyes shining with determination.

"Alright, let's start with something small," she suggested, her voice filled with encouragement. "How about we water your flower together? It might seem small, but it's a step forward, right?" Robin spoke up, knowing the relevance the flower had to her son.

Without waiting for his response, she reached for the cup from his desk and filled it with water from a nearby pitcher. "Here," she said, handing him the cup. "You give it a try, and I'll be right here with you every step of the way."

With her guidance, they began to tend to the neglected flower, each drop of water a symbol of hope and renewal. And as they worked together, Sebastian felt a glimmer of light pierce through the darkness, reminding him that he wasn't alone in his struggle.
Robin smiled warmly, letting him take his time. “Now, I know recovery takes a while darling, it doesn’t fix all in one go. It’s a process and I promise you that I’ll be by your side through it all, no matter how long it takes.” She reassured.
Sebastian's gaze lingered on the flowerpot for a moment longer, his mind grappling with the weight of his mother's words. He felt a mixture of gratitude and disbelief—grateful for her unwavering support, yet sceptical about his own ability to recover.

"Thanks, Mum," he murmured, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I just... I don't know if I can do this." His fingers toyed with the edge of the cup, his thoughts swirling with doubt and fear.

But as he glanced at his mother's comforting smile, a flicker of hope stirred within him. Maybe, just maybe, with her steadfast presence by his side, he could find the strength to navigate the long road ahead. He nodded slowly, a silent agreement to embark on this journey together. Even if he didn’t believe in it much himself.
Robin's heart ached at the doubt in Sebastian's voice, but she refused to let it deter her. With a gentle sigh, she reached out and enveloped him in a warm embrace, holding him close.
"I know it's hard, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice soft and reassuring. "But you're stronger than you think, Sebastian. And you don't have to face this alone." She pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her hands and meeting his gaze with unwavering determination.

"We'll take it one step at a time, okay?" she said, her voice filled with conviction. "And I'll be right here beside you, every step of the way. We'll get through this together." She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead, silently promising to never give up on him.

With a gentle smile, she released him from her embrace, her eyes filled with love and encouragement. "Now, how about we tackle that pile of laundry together? It might not seem like much, but it's a start." She offered him her hand, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.
Sebastian let out an exasperated groan, his discontent evident in the way he grumbled under his breath. "I think I'd rather k-" He stopped abruptly, his words trailing off into a forced frustrated cough. "Can't we do something else?" he whined, plopping down on the end of his bed with an air of defeated reluctance.

He cast a disdainful glare around his room, taking in its dreary surroundings with a mixture of frustration and resignation. It was as if every corner of the room echoed his own sense of despair, amplifying the suffocating weight of his depression.
Robin's heart sank at Sebastian's display of disdain, but she refused to let it deter her. With a deep breath, she approached him, her expression a mix of empathy and determination.

"I know, I know," she began softly, reaching back to re-tie her hair back into a ponytail. "But sometimes, facing the little things can help us feel a bit better, even if just for a moment." She offered him a small, encouraging smile, hoping to lift his spirits even just a little.

"We don't have to tackle the laundry if you don't want to," she added, her voice gentle yet firm. "But let's find something together, okay? Something that feels manageable, even in this... room." She gestured around the room with a sympathetic nod, acknowledging the heaviness that seemed to permeate every corner.

"Maybe we could start by opening a window, letting in some fresh air," she suggested, her tone hopeful. "Or perhaps we could listen to some music, or even just sit together and talk. Whatever you need, I'm here." She spoke up before making her way to the window tugging upon the stubborn thing as Sebastian watched.
As Sebastian watched, tendrils of smoke that had once clung to the ceiling began to curl and sway, escaping through the newly opened window. He couldn't help but suppress a snigger at the sight, remembering how his room had been practically hot-boxed before his mother had entered his room and cracked the seal by opening the window.

Amusement danced in his eyes as he observed Robin's reaction, her face contorting into a grimace at the lingering scent of smoke wafting past her. He couldn't blame her; the pungent odour seemed to cling stubbornly to every surface, resisting the fresh air that now flowed into the room.
Robin’s reaction however, was palpable as she wrinkled her nose in distaste at the lingering smell of smoke wafting past her. Sebastian couldn't help but notice the grimace that crossed her face as she made way for the smoky remnants to escape into the outside world.
She shot Sebastian a disapproving glance before turning her attention back to the window, her expression softening with a hint of amusement.
"Sebastian," she chided gently, shaking her head. "You really shouldn't be doing that in your room. It's not good for you, and it's not good for the house." Her tone was more exasperated than scolding, a mixture of concern and resignation lacing her words.

"But at least we're getting some fresh air in here now," she added with a forced smile, trying to find the silver lining in the situation. "Let's try to keep it that way, okay?" She shot him another meaningful look, silently urging him to consider the consequences of his actions.
Sebastian's eyes rolled ever so slightly, a subtle gesture of exasperation as he let out a weary sigh. "It wasn't even that bad," he muttered under his breath, his words tinged with a hint of defiance. His gaze briefly flickered past his mother, ensuring that his bong was strategically positioned facing the wall, a feeble attempt to conceal his tracks.

He couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, knowing that his ashtrays were a more conspicuous telltale sign of his activities. The chances of escaping detection seemed slim, but he held onto a glimmer of hope that perhaps he could evade scrutiny, at least this time.
Robin raised an eyebrow septically at Sebastian's dismissive remark, a mixture of disbelief and concern flickering across her features. She couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his gaze, the telltale signs of guilt that he tried so desperately to conceal.

"Sebastian," she began, her tone gentle but firm, "you know I don't like it when you smoke in here. It's not just about the smell—it's not good for your health, sweetheart." Her voice carried a note of maternal worry, her eyes searching his for any sign of acknowledgment.

She couldn't ignore the sinking feeling in her chest as she noticed the ashtrays scattered around the room, evidence of his habit that he seemed so determined to hide. Despite her concern, she forced a small, understanding smile, hoping to convey her support even in the face of his defiance.

"Just please be careful, okay?" she said softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand gently. "I love you too much to see you hurting yourself like this." Her words hung in the air, a silent plea for him to understand the gravity of his actions.
Sebastian's shoulders slumped in a classic display of teenage indifference, mirroring the posture of countless adolescents who had found themselves on the receiving end of a lecture. Despite his mother's good intentions, he couldn't muster the energy to meet her gaze, opting instead for a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world.

"It's not the worst thing I've done," he muttered to himself, his words barely audible as he dismissed her concerns with a nonchalant shrug. His tone held a hint of defiance, a stubborn refusal to acknowledge the seriousness of the situation.

"I'll be fine," he insisted, his thumb absent-mindedly tracing over the sleeves of his shirt. The fabric provided a comforting barrier against the pain that gnawed at him from beneath the sleeves, a subtle attempt to ease his discomfort without drawing too much attention from his mother's watchful gaze.
Robin couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration mixed with concern at Sebastian's dismissive attitude. She watched him slump in his seat, his words laced with a hint of defiance that she found both exasperating and heartbreaking.

Robin couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration as Sebastian brushed off her concerns with such casual indifference. She watched him slump in his seat, his nonchalant attitude serving as a stark reminder of the disconnect between them.

"Sebastian," she said gently, her voice tinged with a mixture of sadness and determination. "I know you think you'll be fine, but I worry about you. These things have a way of adding up, sweetheart, and I don't want to see you hurting."

Her gaze softened as she reached out to gently cup his cheek, her touch tender and reassuring. "You can talk to me, you know. I'm here for you, no matter what." She held his gaze, silently pleading for him to open up and let her in, to share the burden that weighed so heavily on his shoulders.
Sebastian sighed heavily at that as he shrugged dismissively once more, shrugging off the touch as he sighed, “Mum, I mean it- I know you just want to help but I’m not a kid anymore,” He murmured at that, stubbornly standing in an attempt to make space between them. Though as the teen stood he seemed to lose his balance, vision swimming as he stumbled, grabbing onto the post of his bed to recapture his balance his fingers closing around it in a desperate bid to steady himself.
Robin's heart clenched with concern as she watched Sebastian struggle to maintain his balance, a surge of fear gripping her chest. Without a moment's hesitation, she rushed to his side, her maternal instincts kicking into overdrive.

"Sebastian!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with worry. Ignoring any sense of personal space, she wrapped her arms around him, steadying him as best she could. "Are you okay? What happened?" Her hands moved to cup his face, her touch gentle yet urgent as she searched his eyes for any sign of distress.

She could feel the tension radiating from his body, a silent reminder of the battles he fought within himself. With a heavy sigh, she pulled him into a tight embrace as he grumbled in response, letting his vision slowly return to normal as he sighed heavily just slouching into her arms. “Told you.. haven’t been able to eat properly for ages, t’s fine I’ll be fine in a few minutes,” He dismissed as he murmured it into her shoulder.
Robin held Sebastian close, her embrace offering both solace and strength as she felt the weight of his struggles in his trembling form. She pressed a gentle kiss to the top of his head, her heart aching at his dismissive words.

"Sebastian," she began softly, her voice tinged with concern. "I know you're used to brushing things off, but it's not fine to be feeling like this." She tightened her hold around him, as if trying to shield him from all his problems.

"You don't have to pretend with me," she whispered, her words a gentle reminder that he didn't have to bear his burdens alone. "Let me help you, sweetheart. Please." Her voice cracked slightly with emotion as she pleaded with him to let her in, to share his pain and allow her to ease his suffering.
Sebastian's head shook against his mother's shoulder, his breath hitching as he fought back tears. "I can't eat," he choked out, his voice thick with desperation. "I can't do it anymore. Everything just... it makes me feel sick, and I don't know what to do."

His words spilled out in a torrent of anguish, each syllable tinged with the weight of his despair. His voice cracked with emotion as he finally allowed himself to vocalize the turmoil that had been consuming him from within. It was as if a dam had burst, unleashing a flood of pent-up emotions that he could no longer contain. He clung to his mother, seeking solace in her comforting embrace, his heart laid bare in the raw vulnerability of the moment as he felt her squeeze him softly in comfort.
Robin's heart shattered at the raw anguish in Sebastian's voice, her own eyes stinging with unshed tears. With a tender touch, she gently brushed the tears from his cheek, her voice trembling with emotion.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice filled with empathy. "I'm so sorry you're going through this." She held him close, her arms wrapping around him in a protective embrace as she searched for the right words to offer him comfort.

Taking a deep breath, she pulled back slightly, cupping his face in her hands as she met his tear-filled eyes with unwavering determination. "You don't have to go through this alone, Sebastian," she said softly. "We'll figure this out together, I promise."

She pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before pulling away, her gaze unwavering as she offered him a small, reassuring smile. "How about we start with something simple?" she suggested gently. "Maybe just some soup or toast. We'll take it slow, okay? And I'll be right here with you, every step of the way."
Sebastian's hesitation hung heavy in the air, a palpable tension that seemed to fill the room. Despite his reservations, he found himself seated at the dining table, his gaze fixed blankly on the bowl of soup before him. The aroma wafting from it made his stomach churn, a visceral reaction that threatened to overpower him.

He knew his mother had poured her love and effort into preparing the meal, and guilt gnawed at him as he reluctantly picked up his spoon. With trembling hands, he took a hesitant mouthful, the taste of the once-beloved pumpkin soup now bitter and overpowering.

Instant regret flooded through him as the flavour assaulted his senses, his stomach lurching in protest. He stumbled away from the table, rushing to the sink as nausea gripped him mercilessly. The taste of stomach acid burned his throat as he emptied the contents of his stomach, his body convulsing with each retch and heave.
Gagging slightly, he leaned heavily against the sink, his breaths coming in ragged gasps as he tried to steady himself. Through the haze of his distress, he felt his mother's comforting presence beside him, her hand rubbing soothing circles on his back. But the buzzing in his ears drowned out her words, leaving him lost in the cacophony of his own thoughts and physical distress and amidst the ringing in his ears and the buzzing chaos of his mind, he struggled to hear her words of reassurance. But in that moment, her touch was enough to anchor him amidst the storm of his own despair.
"I'm sorry—"

The words escaped Sebastian's quivering lips, his hands gripping onto the sink for dear life, unable to trust himself to let go just yet. He winced as another dry heave wracked his body, the tremors of his distress palpable in the air. Slowly, ever so slowly, his body began to calm, the tumult within him subsiding like a storm passing over.

"I'm sorry—"

He repeated the words like a mantra, a weak sob escaping him as he sniffled, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. With shaky movements, he lowered himself to sit on the cold kitchen floor, the cool tiles providing a stark contrast to the heat of his anguish. It was in this moment of vulnerability that he realized the depth of his struggle, the desperate yearning to break free from the suffocating grip of his own mind.

"I'm sorry—"

Robin joined him on the floor, enveloping him in a tight embrace that felt like a lifeline amidst the chaos. She cradled his head against her chest, her lips pressing tenderly against his forehead in a gesture of maternal love. With quiet reassurances, she murmured soothing shushes to her son, her embrace a source of comfort and solace.

"I'm here... Momma's here," she whispered softly, her voice a gentle melody in the darkness. With each gentle rock, she sought to ease his troubled soul, offering him the unconditional love and support that he so desperately needed.
Sebastian clung to his mother, his body trembling with a mixture of relief and exhaustion. He buried his face in her chest, tears flowing freely as he allowed himself to be enveloped by her comforting embrace.

"M-mum," he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. "I-I don't know what to do anymore. It hurts so much." He hiccuped between sobs, his chest heaving with the weight of his despair. But in the warmth of his mother's arms, he found a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that threatened to consume him.

Sebastian's voice trembled as he spoke, each word heavy with the weight of his anguish. "I'm so tired of feeling like this," he whispered hoarsely, the strain evident in his voice. "I just want it to stop."

He clung to his mother with all the strength he could muster, his arms wrapped tightly around her as if she were his lifeline in a sea of despair. The tears flowed freely now, unchecked and unrestrained, a testament to the depth of his pain.

"I want it all to go away," he confessed, his voice barely more than a broken whisper. "I just want it to end."

He hiccuped, the sound punctuating the silence of the room as he nestled closer to his mother's comforting embrace. With each reassuring hush that fell from her lips, he felt a glimmer of hope flicker within him, a small beacon of light in the darkness that threatened to consume him.
Robin held Sebastian close, feeling the weight of his pain pressing against her own heart. With every hitched breath and tear that fell, she felt his anguish as if it were her own. She tightened her embrace, offering him the solace of her presence amidst the storm of his emotions.

"Oh, hunny," she murmured softly, her voice a soothing melody in the quiet of the room. "I know it hurts. I know you're tired. But you're not alone, Sebastian. I'm here, and I'll always be here for you." She pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, her lips lingering against his skin in a silent promise of unwavering love and support. With each whispered reassurance, she sought to ease the burden he carried, to offer him the strength he needed to endure.

"We'll get through this together," she vowed, her voice steady despite the tremble in her heart. "One step at a time. I love you, darling. And nothing will ever change that." She held him close, her embrace a sanctuary in the midst of his turmoil, a beacon of hope in the darkness that threatened to engulf him.

Chapter Text

It was true.

You know that cheesy saying about how cuddling makes you sleep better? Turns out, it's not just some random shit. Sebastian realised that whoever came up with it was onto something. It felt kind of stupid that it took him 18 years to figure that out, but hey, better late than never, right?
Hell he still felt like a child saying that word. Cuddles. But he had no other way to describe it.

Pressed snugly against Sam's warm chest, Sebastian felt the gentle rhythm of the other’s breath against his skin, a comforting lullaby in the quiet of their shared space. Legs intertwined, they melted into the soft embrace of sleep, the world outside fading away into the background.

With a sleepy shuffle, Sebastian leaned toward the bedside table, disregarding the arm draped around him and the muffled protest from his still-slumbering partner. He squinted at the glowing numbers of the alarm clock: 5 am. How and why he'd woken up so early remained a mystery, especially since he'd never been much of a morning person. With a resigned sigh, he sank back into the warmth of the bed beside his boyfriend.

"Mm..?" Sam mumbled, barely awake.

"Go back to sleep, it's still early," Sebastian mumbled with a yawn, rolling over to rest his head on Sam's chest, surrendering once more to his boyfriend's embrace. As the other’s arms enveloped him once again, Sebastian exhaled softly, feeling a wave of contentment wash over him as Sam nuzzled his nose into his messy hair.

Just as he was drifting off again, Sebastian was roused by a soft knock on Sam's bedroom door. With a groan, he glanced over at the blonde snuggled beside him, only to be met with the sight of his partner's snoring face. Despite Sam's less-than-graceful appearance – head tilted back, mouth agape with a trail of dried drool – Sebastian couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for him. He almost forgot about the knocking until the sound of the door scraping against the carpet caught his attention, and he found himself locking eyes with the sleepy figure of Vincent.

The young boy rubbed his eyes and yawned, peering into the room before shuffling in and closing the door behind him. While Vincent may have been young, Sebastian knew he wasn't entirely clueless. It wasn't the first time the seven-year-old had stumbled upon Sebastian and his older brother cuddling. He was aware of their relationship, even if he didn't fully understand it.

With a sleepy whine, Vincent's voice broke through Sebastian's thoughts for the third time that morning. "Had a nightmare... can I-"

As the sentence tapered off, its unspoken request hung in the air, but Sebastian caught its meaning. By now, he welcomed his boyfriend's younger brother into their lives with open arms, treating him as if he were his own sibling. "Yeah, come on in, bud," he murmured softly, a gentle smile touching his lips. "Your brother's still in dreamland, though, so let's keep it quiet," he added, placing a finger against his lips in a hushed gesture. Vincent responded with a sleepy giggle, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he nodded, eagerly accepting the invitation.

With a welcoming gesture, Sebastian opened up the blanket, creating a cozy space for Vincent to slip in between himself and Sam. His eyes sparkling with excitement and eager anticipation as he clambered into bed, his movements careful not to disturb the peaceful slumber of his older brother, slipping gracefully between Sebastian and Sam as the blanket enveloped him in its warmth.

As the room embraced its familiar quietness once more, Sebastian tenderly threaded his fingers through the child's hair, hoping to offer some solace in the midst of Vincent's inner turmoil. His hushed humming provided a gentle background melody, despite his own voice carrying a huskiness from just waking up. Even so, he reached out to comfort Vincent. "Wanna share what scared you, buddy?" he whispered softly, leaving space for the child to open up at his own pace, not wanting to pressure him into speaking if he wasn't ready.

Vincent's words hung heavy in the air, laden with a mixture of sadness and uncertainty. "Dad's leaving again," he confessed, his voice trembling slightly as he nervously chewed on his bottom lip. Yet, as Sebastian continued his soothing gesture of running his fingers through the boy's hair, Vincent seemed to find a moment of solace, letting out a sleepy yawn.

Though Sebastian understood that his boyfriend harboured little attachment to his father, he recognized the longing in Vincent's heart for a connection that had always seemed just out of reach. Born into a military family, both Sam and Vincent had grappled with the absence of their father in different ways. While Sam had resigned himself to the disconnect, Vincent still clung to the hope of bonding with his dad.

There were no easy words for Sebastian to offer in this moment. He felt a pang of helplessness, knowing there was little he could do to mend the fractured relationship between father and son. All he could do was offer his presence, his support, and the warmth of his touch as a silent reassurance to Vincent in his time of need.

Sebastian took a deep breath, feeling the weight of Vincent's sadness press against his own heart. "Well," he began, his words slow and careful, as if he were navigating through a minefield of emotions. "How about we look at it this way..." He paused, biting back the words that threatened to choke him.

"I know you love flowers," he continued softly, his voice carrying a tender warmth. "So, how about we think about poppies, hm?" Sebastian suggested, his fingers tracing patterns of comfort on Vincent's shoulder. "What if later on, you, me, and your brother go out to pick some? We could wander into the forest and make a couple of flower crowns. Because- you see, even poppies, as pretty as they are.. they can also make people feel sad."

He paused, letting his words sink in before gently adding, "I know you're sad about your dad leaving again, but... at the same time, we have to find strength in ourselves. For him, and for us. Don't you think so?" Sebastian pulled Vincent into a tight embrace, his arms offering a sense of security and reassurance in the midst of uncertainty.

Vincent's slow nod was barely noticeable, his face buried against Sebastian's chest as the weight of his emotions seemed to press down on them both. Sebastian sighed softly, his arms wrapping around the child in a protective embrace, his hand rubbing soothing circles on his back in an attempt to offer what comfort he could to his partner’s younger brother.

The room fell into a hushed silence, allowing Vincent to absorb and ponder Sebastian's words at his own pace. Outside, the world began to stir with the early signs of morning. The gentle chirping of birds floated through the window, accompanied by the rhythmic tapping of a woodpecker and the distant crowing of a rooster from the farm on the outskirts of town.

"Mummy says we can't have poppies," Vincent's voice broke the tranquil atmosphere, his words tinged with a melancholy that mirrored his mother's sorrow. "They make her sad…"

"Yeah... they make me sad too," Sebastian confessed with a heavy sigh, his gaze drifting upwards to the ceiling. On the other side of Vincent, Sam stirred from his slumber, emitting sleepy grumbles and bleary-eyed yawns as he gradually awoke. His eyes met Sebastian's, initially groggy but softening with concern as he noticed his younger brother nestled in Sebastian's embrace, the faint sound of sniffles escaping from Vincent.

Without needing words, Sam's expression silently conveyed his worry to Sebastian, who responded with a slow nod. 'Bad dream,' he mouthed back, and Sam's understanding was noticeable as he inched closer, enfolding both his boyfriend and brother in a tender bear hug.

"Morning, buddy," Sam's voice broke the silence, his arms encircling Vincent as the child reluctantly lifted his face from Sebastian's chest to find solace in his older brother's embrace. With a teary sniffle, Vincent struggled to articulate his feelings, his words muffled by emotion. But Sam seemed to grasp the unspoken message regardless, cradling him close in a gesture of unwavering support and love.

As the warmth of Sam's embrace enveloped them all, a sense of comfort settled over the trio. Sebastian felt a surge of gratitude for the bond they shared, a bond that transcended words and provided solace in moments of vulnerability.

With Vincent nestled between them, his tears slowly subsided, replaced by a quiet calmness as he leaned into the safety of his brother's arms. Sensing the need for a gentle transition, Sam suggested, "How about we make today a special one, huh? We'll make pancakes for breakfast, just like Mum used to, and then we can head out to the forest to find those poppies."

Vincent's eyes brightened at the idea, a flicker of excitement cutting through the lingering sadness. "Can we really?" he asked, a hint of hopefulness in his voice.

"Absolutely," Sam affirmed with a warm smile, his gaze shifting to Sebastian for confirmation. Sebastian nodded, his heart swelling with determination to make the day memorable for Vincent.

Embracing the renewed sense of purpose that filled the room, they reluctantly disentangled from their comforting embrace, each member of the trio brimming with determination to make the day ahead a special one. With promises of pancakes and shared moments of joy enhancing their spirits, they embarked on their morning routine, eager anticipation dancing in their hearts.

As they made their way to the kitchen together, Vincent's excitement bubbled over, his small frame practically vibrating with anticipation. With a mischievous grin, he scrambled up onto a step stool beside the kitchen counter, declaring, "I wanna help!"

Sebastian chuckled softly, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he pulled on his hoodie, a shield against the chill of the morning and a subtle barrier to any questions about the scars that adorned his skin. The soft light of the sunrise flooded the cosy kitchen through the lace curtains, casting a warm glow over their surroundings and igniting a sense of hope for the day ahead.

"Buddy, we gotta keep it down. Mum and, uh, Dad are still sleeping," Sam gently reminded, stumbling over the unfamiliar term for their father. Vincent responded with a playful tongue poke, crossing his arms defiantly. "I am! Sebastiaaan, tell Sam to stop being a meanie."

Sebastian, meanwhile, hummed quietly as he busied himself fetching ingredients from the fridge. He couldn't help but snort at the sheer audacity of Sam's stubbornness, holding a hand to his chest in mock shock. "I am not a meanie!" Sam protested, his tone indignant as he faced off against his brother.

"“Buddy we gotta be quiet, mum and uh- dad are still sleeping,” " Sam gently reminded, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he stumbled over the word 'dad', a reminder of the complexities lurking beneath their morning routine. But Vincent, ever the defiant spirit, simply stuck out his tongue in response, crossing his arms with an air of childish rebellion. "I am! Sebastiaaan, tell Sam to stop being a meanie," he retorted, his words punctuated by a pout.

Meanwhile, Sebastian hummed quietly as he busied himself retrieving ingredients from the fridge, a small smile playing at his lips as he observed the playful banter between the brothers. He couldn't help but snort at the sheer audacity of Sam's mock protest, holding a hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. "I am not a meanie!" Sam protested, his statement notable as he shot a playful glare at his brother.
Sebastian couldn't resist joining in the fun, adding his own theatrical flair to the moment. "Ehhh, I dunno," he mused, his tone dripping with mock seriousness as he pretended to contemplate. "You're sounding like a meanie to us, isn't he, Vince?" he chimed in, casting a conspiring glance at the seven-year-old, who beamed proudly at the acknowledgment. "Yeah!" Vincent declared with gusto, puffing out his chest in solidarity with his newfound ally.
With Vincent's enthusiastic agreement, the tension melted away, replaced by playful banter and shared laughter. Sam rolled his eyes good-naturedly, his lips twitching into a fond smile as he ruffled Vincent's hair affectionately.

"Alright, alright, no more name-calling," Sam conceded with a chuckle, reaching for the pancake mix on the counter (once Sebastian had made it from scratch mind you). "Let's focus on making these pancakes, yeah?"

Vincent nodded eagerly, his previous stubbornness forgotten as he bounced on the step stool, ready to lend a hand in the kitchen. Sebastian joined in with a soft laugh, his heart swelling with warmth at the sight of his boyfriend and his brother bonding over a simple morning ritual.

As they worked together to mix the batter and heat up the pan, the kitchen filled with the comforting aroma of pancakes cooking, mingling with the soft morning light that bathed the room in a golden glow.

As they flipped pancakes and exchanged smiles, a sense of comfort settled over the trio, weaving a tapestry of warmth and connection in the kitchen. Vincent, ever the curious soul, shattered the tranquil silence with a question that bubbled up from the depths of his mind. "Can you eat flowers?" he asked, his tone filled with innocent wonder.

Sebastian couldn't help but snort at the unexpected inquiry, his laughter a testament to the child's boundless curiosity. Sam, trying to be a patient older brother, began to offer an explanation. "Well, some flowers are edible, but you have to be careful. Not all plants..." His words trailed off as Sebastian interjected with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"Well, technically, anything is edible if you try hard enough," Sebastian quipped, a playful smirk dancing on his lips as he glanced at Vincent, who nodded in earnest agreement, clearly hanging onto his every word.

"But what happens?" Vincent's curiosity persisted, his eyes wide with fascination.

Sebastian chuckled softly, his expression shifting to one of mock seriousness. "Well, you could end up spending a lot of time on the shitter-...uhhh, toilet," he replied, catching himself just in time to avoid using a more colourful term in front of the child. A sudden smack on the back of his head startled him, and he turned to see Sam, his boyfriend, giving him a playful reprimand with a hint of affection in his eyes.

Before he could protest, a playful smack landed on the back of Sebastian's head, eliciting a surprised yelp from him. "Hey!" he exclaimed in protest, turning to face his boyfriend with a mock glare.

Sam chuckled at Sebastian's reaction, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he gently scolded him, "Watch your language, Seb."
Sebastian rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, offering an apologetic grin. "Sorry, buddy. Got carried away there," he admitted, his tone sincere but his eyes still sparkling with mischief.

Vincent giggled at their playful exchange, clearly enjoying the light-hearted banter between his brother and Sebastian. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he chimed in, "Can we try eating flowers sometime?"

Sam and Sebastian exchanged amused glances before Sam ruffled Vincent's hair affectionately. "We'll stick to pancakes for now, okay?" he chuckled, earning an enthusiastic nod from Vincent in response.

Though as time passed, the cosy kitchen was infused with the tantalizing aroma of freshly cooked pancakes, swirling around them like a comforting embrace. Laughter bubbled up like a melody, weaving through the room and intertwining with the gentle hum of morning light filtering through the lace curtains.

With each pancake carefully plated by Sam, the anticipation grew stronger, a shared excitement for the feast they had prepared together. Vincent's plate was placed first, followed by Sebastian's, and finally, Sam's own, each dish a testament to their collective efforts and love for one another.

Gathered around the dining table, they savoured the simple pleasure of a shared meal, their conversation punctuated by the occasional clink of utensils against plates and bursts of laughter. In this moment of togetherness, surrounded by the warmth of their bond, they found solace and contentment, cherishing the precious moments spent in each other's company.

Sebastian hadn't anticipated spending the afternoon holed up in the dilapidated community centre, but the sudden spring shower had dashed any hopes of a leisurely stroll outdoors. With their clothes damp and Vincent's protests growing louder, it became evident that seeking refuge indoors was the only sensible option.

Now, they found themselves huddled together around the crackling fireplace, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows across the worn walls. Sebastian, to his own surprise, had managed to coax the fire to life, a skill he attributed to his mother's teachings. Despite the relative proximity of Sebastian's house, a mere fifteen-minute walk away, the worsening downpour and Vincent's insistence on staying put meant they were effectively stranded for the time being.

As the rain continued to drum against the windows and the fire crackled in the hearth, Sebastian glanced over at Sam and Vincent, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Despite the unexpected turn of events, there was a sense of closeness and comfort in their impromptu shelter.

Vincent, his initial fussing now subdued, was engrossed in a picture book he had found tucked away in a dusty corner of the room. Sam, ever the protective older brother, sat beside him, occasionally pointing out interesting details in the illustrations and eliciting giggles from the young boy.

Sebastian, feeling a surge of gratitude for the quiet moment they were sharing, decided to seize the opportunity to do something special to entertain Vincent. "Hey, why don't we have a picnic right here by the fireplace?" he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

Sam's face lit up at the idea, and even Vincent looked up from his book with interest. "That sounds fun!" Sam exclaimed, casting a glance around the room. "We can use some of the snacks we brought with us."

With a sense of excitement, they began to unpack their backpacks, laying out a makeshift picnic blanket on the floor beside the fire that they had found in one of the rooms even though it was mostly bathed in dust. Soon, the room was filled with the aroma of toasted fruit, and laughter echoed off the walls as they shared stories and jokes as Vincent clearly was just happy to join in.

After their indoor picnic, the rain outside began to ease up, the soft pitter-patter gradually dwindling to a gentle drizzle. With a glance exchanged between them, Sebastian, Sam, and Vincent realized that the time had come to venture back home. With reluctant sighs (mostly from the brothers), they packed up their belongings and extinguished the dwindling flames of the fireplace.

As they made their way outside, the air felt fresh and invigorating, cleansed by the passing shower. Emerging from the community centre, they were greeted by the sight of a vibrant rainbow arching across the sky, its colours shimmering in the aftermath of the storm. Vincent's eyes widened in wonder, a smile spreading across his face as he pointed excitedly.

"Look, a rainbow!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with childlike delight.

Sebastian and Sam exchanged fond smiles, their hearts swelling with warmth at the sight. Linking hands, they walked together as Vincent giddily skipped ahead, staying in view of the two as Sebastian walked them both back to their house as the child, still buzzing with excitement from their impromptu picnic, eagerly bounced on his feet. "I can't wait to tell Mum about our adventure!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with enthusiasm.

Together, they strolled along the rain-kissed streets toward Sam's house, the lingering scent of petrichor mingling with their laughter and animated conversation. Each step seemed to carry them closer not just to their destination, but to a shared sense of camaraderie and affection.

As they reached the familiar doorstep of Sam's home, a wave of gratitude washed over them, reflected in the warmth of their smiles. They exchanged knowing glances, silently acknowledging the bond that had grown stronger through their shared experience.

Vincent, his youthful energy still buzzing from their adventure, dashed inside with a contagious sense of excitement, undoubtedly eager to ramble to his and his brother’s mother about the tales of their adventure they had taken part of. Sebastian watched him go with a fond smile, feeling a swell of pride at the joy they had brought to the young boy's day.

Turning to face Sam, Sebastian's heart swelled with affection as he leaned in, their lips meeting in a tender kiss. It was a moment of quiet intimacy amidst the backdrop of their shared journey, a silent expression of gratitude and love.

"See ya tomorrow, Seb," Sam murmured against his lips, a soft smile gracing his features. "Thank you for today. Vince definitely needed the pick-me-up."

As Sebastian met Sam's gaze, a rush of emotion swirled within him, a kaleidoscope of fondness, gratitude, and a deepening bond. The warmth in his chest blossomed into a radiant smile, mirroring the affection shining in Sam's eyes.

"Anytime, Sam," Sebastian whispered, his voice laced with sincerity and a hint of sentimentality (that he would never admit out loud). Each word carried the weight of their shared experiences, a testament to the strength of their connection.

As they reluctantly parted ways, a bittersweet pang tugged at Sebastian's heart, mingling with the lingering echoes of laughter from their time together. Yet, he found solace in the knowledge that their unexpected adventure had forged memories that would weave itself into the fabric of their relationship, and anchoring them ever closer to each other.

As Sebastian watched Sam disappear inside his home, a sense of warmth lingered in his chest, comforting him like a gentle embrace. Turning on his heel, he began the leisurely walk back to his own house, the memory of their shared adventure still fresh in his mind.

As he strolled along the rain-soaked streets, the soft patter of droplets against the pavement served as a soothing soundtrack to his thoughts. Memories of the day danced through his mind, each step carrying him closer to his own house.

Upon reaching his doorstep, Sebastian paused, taking a moment to savour the quiet serenity of the evening outside. The air was crisp, the scent of rain lingering in the atmosphere, and a sense of peace settled over him like a gentle mist. As Sebastian pushed open the door and stepped into the welcoming embrace of his home, a sense of comfort washed over him like a familiar blanket. The soft glow of lamplight illuminated the cosy interior, casting a warm aura over the space.

In the corner of the room, Sebastian's mother was in the process of closing up her shop for the night, her movements graceful and familiar. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the aroma of freshly cut logs of wood, creating an inviting atmosphere that enveloped him as he approached her.

"Hey, Mum," Sebastian greeted warmly, his voice carrying a hint of exhaustion from the day's events but also a genuine affection for the woman who had always been there for him.

His mother turned to face him, a gentle smile lighting up her features. "Hey, sweetheart," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and love. "How was your day?" Sebastian sighed contentedly, sinking into the comfort of his surroundings. "It was unexpected, but good," he admitted, his eyes reflecting the memories of the adventures he had shared with Sam and Vincent as he found himself rambling about his day to his mother as she smiled warmly, nodding along as she listened patiently.

As they exchanged stories and laughter, the bond between mother and son only grew stronger, a testament to the enduring power of love and family. And as they settled into the evening together, Sebastian couldn't help but feel grateful for the warmth and cosiness of his mother's presence, a constant source of comfort and support in his life.

As Sebastian bid farewell to the conversation, a weight seemed to lift from his shoulders as he descended the stairs to his basement room. With each step, he felt the familiar embrace of solitude beckoning him, a sanctuary from the demands of the outside world.

Throwing himself onto his bed, he welcomed the creak of the springs beneath him, a comforting rhythm that echoed the release of tension from his body. With a deep exhale, he surrendered to the tranquillity of the moment, relishing in the soothing isolation that enveloped him. Amidst the quiet, Sebastian reached for his hidden stash of blunts, a familiar ritual that promised solace and comfort. With practised ease, he nestled one between his lips, the familiar weight grounding him in the present moment.

As the flame flickered to life, casting dancing shadows across the room, Sebastian took a long drag, the smoke swirling around him like a protective cloak. With each exhale, he felt the tension of the day melt away, replaced by a sense of calm and clarity.

Lying back on his bed, he watched the tendrils of smoke curl and twist towards the ceiling, a silent dance of ephemeral beauty. In that moment of quiet contemplation, Sebastian found solace in the simple act of being, a fleeting respite from the chaos of the world outside.

Maybe he could hold on just a little while longer.

Chapter Text

Dyeing his hair felt like a daunting task.

A chore he had reluctantly embarked upon despite the warning signs that had plagued him since the moment he woke up. Pain had crept up his legs like unwelcome tendrils, a stark reminder of his body's fragility. It was only now he regretted pushing himself so far the day before. He knew he should’ve started listening to his body, and yet here he was dealing with another flare-up seated on his desk chair. Sighing as he wrestled with the discomfort as he balanced his phone precariously, its screen serving as a makeshift mirror.

The bathroom mirror, once a familiar ally in his routine, now seemed like an impossible obstacle. Sebastian's legs refused to cooperate, betraying him with every attempt to stand for longer than a few minutes without sending him into unbelievable amounts of pain. It felt stupid, this struggle with his own body, but today his limbs seemed determined to rebel against him.

As he carefully applied the hair dye, the strong scent assaulting his senses, clawing its way into his nostrils with relentless persistence. His stomach churned in protest, a visceral reaction to the overpowering odour that permeated the room. Despite his best efforts to ignore the discomfort, Sebastian found himself battling against the relentless nagging of his own body, each moment spent trying to re-dye his roots out of pure spite. He could manage it.

…

He couldn’t manage it.

Sebastian's frustration mounted with each previous attempt to balance his phone, the device slipping from his grasp with frustrating regularity. Hair dye smudged across the screen, an unwanted reminder of his mounting exasperation. When the inevitable clatter of his phone meeting the floor echoed through the room, he couldn't suppress a groan of irritation, his patience wearing thin.

Reluctantly admitting defeat, Sebastian called out for his mother's assistance. Robin's arrival was a balm to his frazzled nerves, her calm demeanour a stark contrast to his own frustrated state. With a reassuring smile, she guided him to the bathroom, her supportive presence a source of comfort in his moment of need.

Seated on the cool tile floor, Sebastian felt a wave of relief wash over him as Robin took charge, her gentle hands working delicately to apply the hair dye. Her soothing hums filled the room, a melody of reassurance that eased his tension and an attempt to ease his stress. With each careful stroke of the brush, Robin's love and care enveloped him like a warm embrace, turning what had been a frustrating ordeal into a moment of shared connection and understanding between mother and son. And as she worked tirelessly to ensure every strand of hair was coated evenly, Sebastian couldn't help but feel his pride ever so slightly shatter.

"What's your plans for today?" Robin's voice shattered the fragile bubble of silence enveloping them, pulling Sebastian from his thoughts. He grunted in response, a mixture of frustration and resignation evident in his gesture. "It's... a bad pain day, so probably staying inside," he confessed, his tone of only what could be described as annoyance at his own body.

A small worried sigh escaped Robin's lips, her concern palpable in the air between them. "We should get Harvey to check you out again... maybe he can find something this time?" she suggested, her voice laced with a hint of desperation.

Sebastian's frustration bubbled to the surface, his jaw clenching with pent-up irritation. "We've been down that road before, Mum," he retorted, his tone edged with frustration. "I don't need another round of useless tests and empty promises. He doesn’t know what it is, and he’s the damn doctor. He should know what it could be-"

Robin's expression softened, her gaze filled with empathy as she reached out to gently place a hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "I know, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice tinged with sorrow. "I just hate seeing you in pain, and I'll do anything to help you feel better."

Her words were filled with genuine concern, a testament to the depth of her love for her son. Despite her own feelings of helplessness, Robin remained steadfast in her determination to support Sebastian through his struggles.

"We'll figure it out together," she vowed, her voice infused with quiet resolve. "No matter what it takes, we owe it to ourselves to keep trying, even when it feels like we're at a dead end." With a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder, Robin offered a small smile, her unwavering support a beacon of hope in the midst of Sebastian's struggle before ushering him over to the bathtub, letting him rest his head over it as she began washing out the hair dye for him once it had settled.

"How about... you invite your friends over?" Robin's voice broke through the heavy atmosphere, her suggestion laced with warmth and a glimmer of hope. With gentle hands, she began to massage Sebastian's scalp, her touch both soothing and comforting as she worked to remove the remnants of hair dye from his hair with the shower head. "If you can't go outside to have fun, why not have fun indoors? Maybe you could play that little game of yours."

Sebastian's eyes brightened at the suggestion, a faint spark of excitement igniting within him. "Solorion Chronicles?" he murmured, the name of his favourite game rolling off his tongue with a hint of nostalgia.

Robin nodded, her smile growing as she sensed her son's enthusiasm. "Yes, exactly," she affirmed, her voice infused with encouragement. "You always have a great time playing with your friends, even if I don’t fully understand it myself. It could be a nice distraction from the pain."
As she continued to gently wash Sebastian's hair, the simple act of her motherly care filling the room with a sense of warmth.

“I’ll be working upstairs if you need me,” she informed softly referring to her little woodworking shop she had going for her as she softly dried his hair with a towel, ruffling it playfully gaining a small smile from Sebastian as she did so.

And so it was that Sebastian found himself nestled in the comfort of his room, surrounded by the familiar trappings of his beloved campaign of Solarian Chronicles. With meticulous care, he arranged the tabletop, ensuring everything was in its proper place for the impending adventure. As the dungeon master, it fell upon him to set the stage for their journey, leaving enough space for his friends Abigail and Sam to join in with their equipment.

It wasn't long before a familiar figure appeared at the door, heralding Sam's arrival with a burst of energy. Sebastian couldn't help but smile as he watched his boyfriend make himself at home, propping his skateboard against the wall before settling onto a stool at the table. With practised ease, Sam retrieved his dice and character sheet from his bag, ready to dive into the world of Solarian Chronicles.

"Morning!" Sam greeted cheerfully, his warm voice filling the room with a sense of infectious happiness as Sebastian cracked a smile at that. His eyes flickered with concern as he glanced over at Sebastian, noting the subtle signs of discomfort that lingered despite his best efforts to conceal them. "Need me to grab any pain killers for you while we wait for Abby?" he offered softly, his concern evident in the gentle tone of his voice.

He waved him off at that with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’m fine, mum already gave me some before you arrived.” He spoke up with a soft sigh as he shifted his seating in his beanbag just to make sure he was sat close enough to the table.

As the door swung open, Abigail burst into the room with an air of hurried excitement, her purple hair tousled by the wind, giving her a carefree yet vibrant appearance. With a sigh of relief, she kicked off her shoes, her eyes alight with anticipation as she settled onto the stool opposite Sam, her movements swift and purposeful.

In one fluid motion, Abigail delved into her bag, retrieving her dice box and character sheet with practised ease. But she didn't stop there. With a mischievous grin, she scattered packs of snacks across the table, their colourful wrappers adding a festive touch to the room. Her gaze danced over the world map laid out before them, a brief moment of consideration before she refocused her attention on her friends as she focused on back into the situation.

"Okay, I'm here," Abigail announced, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm. "I brought snacks, spare dice because, let's be real, Sam, you always manage to lose one from your set." She chuckled, a playful glint in her eye as she continued rummaging through her bag.

"Also, more pain meds for you, Sebastian," she added, her tone softening with concern as she produced a small container of pills. "And some ice packs from my dad's shop, just in case." Her gestures were thoughtful, a testament to the depth of her friendship with Sebastian.

But Abigail wasn't done yet. With a flourish, she revealed a bag stuffed with what appeared to be freshly harvested marijuana, along with a selection of edibles. "Oh, and some edibles too," she declared, her grin widening. "Because come on, you can't have a campaign without a pick-me-up, right?"

As she leaned back in her seat, Abigail's presence infused the room with a sense of vibrant energy, her infectious enthusiasm setting the stage for a memorable adventure in the world of Solorian Chronicles as the boys took a second to fully process the flurry of events that had just conspired. Sharing a glance to each other before Sam blurted out the first thing to come to mind. “Dude are you high already?”

Sebastian couldn't help but stifle a laugh at Sam's blunt question, the tension in the room dissipating into a chorus of chuckles. Abigail, her eyes sparkling with mischief, shot Sam a playful grin before turning her attention back to the boys.

"Not yet, Sam," she replied with a wink, her tone teasing. "But soon enough, once the adventure gets rolling." Sam's eyes widened in mock surprise, his lips curling into a sheepish grin. "Hey, I'm just making sure we're all on the same page," he quipped, his playful banter earning him a round of laughter from his friends.

With Abigail's contagious energy lighting up the room, Sebastian felt a surge of anticipation coursing through him. Despite the challenges they all faced behind closed doors, he knew that with his friends by his side, they were ready to embark on a journey filled with laughter, camaraderie, and, of course, a few well-timed snacks and pick-me-ups along the way.

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in disbelief as he processed Abigail's audacious plan. "So let me get this straight," he began, his tone incredulous. "You don't want to fight the Marilith, you want to hug her?"

Abigail's face lit up with excitement as she nodded vigorously, her enthusiasm undiminished by Sebastian's scepticism. "Exactly!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining with determination as she shook the dice in her hand ready to see what she could roll.

Sebastian couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief. "And you are aware that one hit from her could kill your character, right?" he asked, his voice tinged with mock concern.

Abigail's grin faltered for a moment before she shrugged nonchalantly, her confidence unwavering. "Of course I know," she replied, her voice tinged with excitement. "But sometimes you have to take risks to make the game more interesting, right?" Sebastian took another drag from his blunt, the smoke swirling around him like a protective veil. With a thoughtful expression, he exhaled slowly before finally shrugging.

"I'll allow it," Sebastian conceded, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, the dim light casting shadows across his face. "Roll for a save for me," he instructed, nodding towards Abigail.

Abigail's brow furrowed in confusion. "A save roll? Dude, I'm not even in danger yet," she protested, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

Sam chuckled from across the table, his hand reaching for an edible as he shot Abigail a knowing look. "Yeah, but you're rolling for a save to avoid or reduce the damage, right?" he interjected, his words muffled by the snack in his mouth. "I mean, you are trying to hug a Marilith," he pointed out with a playful jab of his finger.

Abigail's eyes widened in realization, a sheepish grin spreading across her face. "Oh, right," she conceded, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Guess I better make sure my hug game is strong then."

With a snort of laughter, the group settled back into the rhythm of their game, their banter adding an extra layer of excitement to their adventure in the world of the campaign.
Sebastian's eyes narrowed as he addressed Sam's outlandish proposal. "And no, Sam, you can't moon the Marilith as a distraction," he stated firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "I don't care how high you roll for charisma, it isn't happening."

Sam let out an exaggerated sigh, throwing his hands up in mock frustration. "Aww, come on!" he protested, his voice dripping with melodrama. "I never get to have any fun around here!" Abigail couldn't help but laugh at Sam's theatrics, shaking her head in amusement. "Why does Abby get to hug her if I can't moon her?" he added, his lower lip jutting out in a playful pout.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite his efforts to maintain a stern facade. "Because hugging is a lot less likely to get you killed," he retorted, his voice laced with amusement. "Trust me, you'll thank me later."

With a chuckle, the group settled back into their game, their playful banter adding an extra layer of excitement to their adventure. The boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred, and for a moment, they were no longer just friends playing a game, but adventurers embarking on an epic quest.
Abigail's eyes widened in disbelief as she processed Sebastian's revelation, her hands flying to her face in a dramatic display of shock. "So you're saying that all we had to do to get past the throne room guard was to flirt with them?" she exclaimed, her voice echoing with incredulity. "We killed the poor guy to get past—why didn't you say anything?!"

Her words tumbled out in a torrent of over-the-top indignation, her hands flying to her face as she buried her head in her palms. But even as she leaned forward, her eyes glimmered with a wild intensity, their reddened edges betraying the depths of her immersion in the game. With the theatrical flourish, she rested her head in her hands, her posture exuding a sense of despair.
"I can't believe it," she muttered, her voice muffled by her palms. "We've been murderers this whole time."

Suddenly, with a dramatic flourish, as if a switch had been flipped, Abigail's demeanour shifted. She threw her head back, sitting upright with a theatrical gasp. "I cast revivify!" she declared, her voice ringing out with unwavering determination as she slammed her hand onto the table for emphasis.
The room fell silent, the weight of Abigail's words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. But as the tension began to dissipate, a glimmer of hope sparked in her eyes, a testament to her unwavering determination to right their wrongs and forge a new path forward.

"Alright, roll an attack," Sebastian instructed, his voice laced with amusement as he leaned forward, his gaze fixed on Abigail. With a flick of her wrist, she sent her d20 spinning across the table, her heart racing with anticipation.

"It's a nat twenty! Let's go!" Abigail exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face as she pumped her fist triumphantly in the air.

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle at her enthusiasm, a fond smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Fine," he conceded, his tone playful. "The royal guard is revived and stands before you, slowly reanimating. But something seems wrong." He turned his attention to Sam, a glint of challenge in his eyes. "Sam, what are you going to do?"

Sam's grin widened as he reached for his dice, his fingers dancing over the familiar shapes. "Active perception check," he declared confidently, his excitement palpable. With a flick of his wrist, the dice tumbled across the table, coming to rest with a satisfying clatter. As he rolled the dice for his perception check, the room seemed to hold its breath, every eye fixed on the outcome. The d20 spun gracefully through the air before landing with a soft thud, the number facing up sending a ripple of excitement through the group.

"It's a nat twenty!" Sam exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph as he leaned back in his chair, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. "Let's fucking go!"

Sebastian's eyebrows shot up in surprise, a chuckle escaping him at the remarkable stroke of luck. "Well, well," he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement. "Seems like you've got the eyes of an eagle today, Sam."

Sebastian leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he began to narrate the scene revealed by Sam's exceptional perception check. "Sam, as you survey the throne room of the castle with keen eyes, you notice something peculiar. Amidst the ornate tapestries and gilded furnishings, your gaze is drawn to a subtle glimmer of light emanating from behind the throne."

He paused for dramatic effect, allowing the tension to build as his friends leaned in closer, hanging onto his every word.

"With a closer look, you discern the outline of a hidden passageway concealed within the stone walls," Sebastian continued, his voice low and conspiratorial. "It appears to lead to a secret chamber unknown to all but the most observant."

As Sam's eyes widened in realization, a sense of excitement rippled through the group. With the discovery of this hidden passage, their adventure was about to take an unexpected turn, leading them deeper into the heart of the castle's mysteries. With a mischievous glint in her eye, Abigail leaned forward, her mind buzzing with excitement as she contemplated her next move. "I wanna investigate the lever," she declared, her voice filled with determination.

As she spoke, she reached for her character sheet, her fingers tracing the familiar lines and symbols with practised ease. With a quick glance at her stats, she felt a surge of confidence coursing through her veins. This was her moment to shine.

Sebastian nodded approvingly, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Roll an investigation check," he instructed, his voice tinged with anticipation.

With a flick of her wrist, Abigail sent her dice spinning across the table, her heart pounding with anticipation as she waited for the outcome. As the dice came to rest, she leaned forward eagerly, her breath caught in her throat as she awaited Sebastian's verdict. "It's a sixteen!" Abigail exclaimed, a triumphant grin spreading across her face. "What do I find?" she asked eagerly, her curiosity piqued by the prospect of uncovering the secrets hidden within the throne room.

As Abigail eagerly voiced her intentions, a sudden knock at the door shattered the illusion of the game, leaving the group deflated and disappointed. They exchanged glances, their excitement dampened by the interruption.

Robin peered cautiously into the room, her expression clouded with mild disapproval as the scent of weed wafted towards her. Despite her grimace, she managed a faint smile for the friend group. "Sorry to interrupt, but are you two staying for dinner?" she asked softly, her disappointment palpable as she struggled to mask her concern. Words were gentle, but they served as a reminder of the mundane responsibilities that awaited them outside the confines of their game.

With small nods from Sam and Abigail, Robin soon left again, closing the door behind herself with a sigh leaving the group to face one another once more as Sebastian sighed. “Alright, lets continue.” He spoke up, clearing his voice as he did so.

Sebastian sighed heavily, the weight of the narrative settling upon his shoulders like a heavy cloak as he declared, his voice tinged with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "As you venture deeper into the tunnel," he began, his tone taking on a theatrical flourish, "a sense of foreboding hangs heavy in the air." He paused for effect, allowing the words to sink in before continuing.

"The narrow passage is dimly lit by flickering torches, casting eerie shadows that dance across the walls," Sebastian narrated, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he set the scene. "The tunnel seems to stretch endlessly before you both, its walls adorned with grotesque sculptures of arms, frozen in various twisted poses."

He leaned closer to the table, his smirk widening as he observed the reactions of his friends. "Each statue-like appendage seems to reach out towards you," he continued, his voice dropping to a hushed whisper, "their fingers curling ominously as if yearning to grasp hold of something—or someone."

Sebastian straightened up, his expression one of feigned seriousness. "As you both press onward," he intoned, his words carrying a sense of urgency, "the air grows colder, sending shivers down your spines. With each step, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, the sensation of unseen eyes following your every move."

He paused for a moment, allowing the tension to build before delivering the final line with dramatic flair. "Despite the creeping sense of dread that threatens to overwhelm you," Sebastian concluded, his voice ringing with authority, "you both press on, driven by a shared determination to uncover the secrets hidden within the depths of the Castle of Pythagoras."

Sebastian's grin widened mischievously as he held up a hand to halt Abigail's impending interruption. "Hold that thought, Abby," he interjected, his voice carrying a hint of excitement as he shifted slightly in his seat, adjusting the ice pack beneath his left knee.

"Okay, Abigail," he began, his tone taking on a storyteller's cadence as he set the scene. "You observe the tunnel stretching out before you, its walls shrouded in darkness and mystery. The air is thick with anticipation as you take in your surroundings, the flickering torchlight casting eerie shadows across the floor."

He paused for effect, allowing the tension to build before continuing. "As you peer into the depths of the basement, you notice something peculiar," Sebastian narrated, his voice growing more animated with each word. "The floor is completely covered in tracks, as if countless footsteps have passed through this chamber before you."

Leaning forward, he fixed Abigail with an intense gaze, his eyes alight with excitement. "And then, just as you begin to process this discovery, a silhouette emerges from the far side of the room," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "But that's not all. You suddenly realize that the room itself seems to be shifting, contorting before your very eyes."

Sebastian's words hung in the air, each syllable heavy with anticipation as he awaited a response. "What do you do?" he queried, his voice carrying a sense of urgency as he turned his attention to Sam, eager to see how he would navigate the challenges ahead.

Sam furrowed his brow in concentration, his mind racing as he considered his next move. "I'm gonna roll for perception," he declared, his tone confident as he reached for his dice. "With my awareness bonus added on, that'll beeeeee 17."

Sebastian's nod carried a weight of acknowledgment, his eyes scanning the scene before him as he processed Sam's decision. A faint sigh escaped his lips, dissipating into the charged atmosphere of the room. Yet, with each exhalation, a sense of determination seemed to take root, binding them together in their shared quest.

"Alright," Sebastian announced, his voice resonating with authority as he set the stage for the next challenge. "The difficulty for this situation is probably a 5. Let me know how many successes you have." Sam's fingers danced across the surface of his dice, anticipation building with each roll. As the dice came to a stop, his eyes widened in realization. "Uhhh, 3 nines," he reported, his voice tinged with excitement. "So, three successes."

Sebastian's voice carried a hint of mischief as he described the scene unfolding before them. "Perfect, that's more than enough," he declared, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Okay, you recognize the person before you as the shadows slowly bleed away. They step closer, the flickering candles casting an ethereal glow around them. Roll for a memory check add on your history bonus.”

As Sebastian's words trailed off, realisation dawned on Sam's face, his features contorting with dismay. "Oh, you didn't..." As the scene unfolded, Sam's expression shifted from anticipation to dismay, his frustration evident in the way he groaned audibly. "Are you kidding me?" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Again? Come on, man, he's dead! You can't—" His protests were cut short, drowned out by the weight of the revelation unfolding before them.

Sebastian's voice filled the room, rich with storytelling cadence as he wove a tapestry of vivid imagery. "In the dim light of the chamber," he began, his words carrying a sense of intrigue, "a figure stood, cloaked in shadows yet exuding an air of unmistakable confidence."

With a flourish of his hand, he painted a picture of the wizard, his description embellished with details that brought the character to life. "The tiefling wizard, with skin the colour of midnight and horns curling elegantly from his temples, commanded attention without uttering a word," Sebastian narrated, his voice infused with a sense of reverence for the character.

As he continued, his words danced with the magic of storytelling, each detail adding depth to the scene. "His piercing eyes, glinting with arcane knowledge, surveyed the room with a calculated gaze," he described, his tone tinged with admiration for the character's power.

Ignoring the groan from Sam and the giddy noises from Abigail, Sebastian pressed on, his enthusiasm unaffected. "Draped in robes of deep violet, adorned with intricate runes that seemed to shimmer in the faint light, he releasing an aura of power and mystique," he explained, his voice brimming with excitement.

With a final flourish, Sebastian brought the scene to life, his words painting a vivid picture of the tiefling's presence. "With one hand resting casually on the hilt of his staff, the person exuded an aura of quiet confidence," he declared, his tone reverent. "His presence demanded respect and admiration from all who beheld him."

As the story reached its climax, Sebastian's voice rang out with a note of triumph. "Eyes landing on you both before he bowed his head in greeting," he announced, his excitement palpable. "Sir Ekvir, my friends, he's made a return! And this is where we'll leave off tonight!"

Sam's eyes widened with excitement as Sebastian spun the tale, his attention riveted by the unfolding narrative. Despite his initial groan, he found himself drawn in by the vivid imagery painted by Sebastian's words, his imagination ignited by the description of the tiefling wizard. He rolled his eyes dramatically as he let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, great, here we go again," he muttered, though a small smirk played at the corner of his lips, betraying his amusement. "Sir Ekvir, huh? Didn't think we'd be seeing him again so soon," he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement.

Abigail, on the other hand, couldn't contain her delight, her face lighting up with unrestrained enthusiasm as she listened to Sebastian's storytelling. With each detail he provided, her excitement grew, her hands clasped eagerly in front of her as she leaned forward in her seat, hanging on his every word.

As Sebastian announced the return of Sir Ekvir, Abigail let out a gleeful cheer, her voice echoing with excitement throughout the room. "Yes!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. "I can't wait to see what happens next! I can't wait to see what trouble Sir Ekvir gets us into this time!" Abigail's eyes lit up with excitement, a grin spreading across her face at that.

Sebastian nodded, a faint sigh escaping him as he shifted uncomfortably. "Alright, mind giving me a hand?" he asked, his voice tinged with exhaustion as he glanced at Sam. With a nod of understanding, Sam moved to assist him, offering a supportive arm to help him rise from his chair and settle onto his bed.

As Sebastian settled in, Abigail's voice broke the silence, her offer of assistance hanging in the air. "I'll grab our food from upstairs and bring it down when it's ready if you want," she offered with a casual shrug, her tone filled with warmth and consideration. “Plus I’m dying for a drink so imma head up and grab us some drinks anyway, I’ll be back nerds,” She spoke up playfully with a wink before disappearing up the stairs as Sebastian snorted at her playful teasing.

Sebastian's laughter bubbled up in response to Abigail's playful banter, a warm smile spreading across his face. "Don't forget to get something with caffeine or alcohol in it!" he chimed in with a hint of mischief in his voice, his words carrying a playful undertone as he watched her disappear up the stairs.

Abigail shot him a mock glare over her shoulder before disappearing up the stairs. "Don't worry, I'll bring down the good stuff," she replied with a wink, her voice echoing faintly from above. As the sound of her footsteps faded away, Sam turned to Sebastian with a grin. "She's always full of surprises," he commented, his eyes dancing with amusement.

He nodded in agreement. "That's for sure," he replied, a fondness evident in his voice as he settled back on the bed, anticipating the delicious meal and refreshing drinks that awaited them. He knew his friends practically lived here alongside given how much they were around so his mother wouldn’t mind Abigail rummaging through the fridge or alcohol cabinet as long as Demetrius didn’t catch her.

Sam's suggestion hung in the air, tentative yet filled with concern. "Think your parents wouldn’t mind if I stopped the night with you?" he ventured, his words carefully chosen to convey his intentions. "Just, uh, you know, to hang out. I want to make sure you're okay-" His voice held a hint of uncertainty as he broached the topic, his words tumbling out in a rush as he tried to clarify his intentions. "I mean, not like... anything, you know? Just... I want to be here for you," he stumbled over his words, the concern evident in his tone as he glanced at Sebastian.

Sebastian's playful snort of amusement cut through the tension, his lips curling into a gentle smile as he leaned in to kiss Sam's cheek. "Sure, stay over," he replied, his voice warm with reassurance. "I'm sure my mum won't mind."

Chapter Text

The night went to plan.

Wrapped securely in Sebastian's embrace, Sam leaned into the rush of cool night air, his helmet visor flipped up to expose his face to the elements. As the motorbike hummed beneath them, carrying them away from the familiar lights of Pelican city, Sam felt a sense of liberation wash over him. The distant sounds of the city faded into the background, replaced by the rhythmic rumble of the engine and the soft whistle of the wind.

Their leather jackets provided a shield against the chill, their warmth seeping into Sam's bones and soothing his restless mind. For Sam, these stolen moments away from the village were a lifeline, a chance to break free from the monotony of everyday life. As they rode into the night, he couldn't help but dream of a future where they could leave it all behind for good.

Of course, there were ties that bound him to the village – his brother, his mother, and even the memory of his father. But in moments like these, as he clung to Sebastian and felt the open road stretch out before them, those ties felt distant, almost insignificant. Here, in the darkness of the night, he found a sense of freedom that he had never known before. And for that, he was grateful.

As the purr of the engine lulled them into a comforting embrace, Sam leaned gently against Sebastian's sturdy frame, his helmeted head finding a soft perch on his boyfriend's shoulder. It was a moment of tranquil serenity amidst the cacophony of life, a brief respite from the turmoil waiting for them back in the village. In the cocoon of their shared silence, Sam found solace, the rhythmic hum of the motorbike serving as a soothing melody to his weary soul.

With each passing mile, the world around them transformed into a blur of vibrant hues, the lush countryside unfurling like a painting in motion. As they journeyed further away from the confines of the village, Sam's gaze drifted to the world rushing past them in a kaleidoscope of colours. The trees blurred into streaks of green and brown, dancing along the roadside in a mesmerizing blur against the backdrop of the setting sun. With each passing mile, it felt as though they were shedding the burdens of their everyday lives, leaving behind the worries. and woes that tethered them to their mundane existence.

In this fleeting moment, it felt as though time stood still, as though they were the sole inhabitants of a world untouched by the worries that plagued them as the winding roads stretched out before them, weaving through the countryside with a sense of serenity that seemed to echo their own inner peace. There was a quiet beauty in the emptiness of the road, a freedom found in the vast expanse of sky overhead. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the landscape, Sam couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of their surroundings.

In this shared journey, surrounded by nothing but the tranquil embrace of nature, Sam felt a profound sense of liberation. It was as though the world had been stripped down to its essence, leaving only him, Sebastian, and the open road ahead. And in that moment, as they journeyed further into the heart of the countryside, Sam couldn't imagine wanting anything more than this simple, fleeting moment of freedom.

As they finally reached the cliff-side sanctuary that had become Sebastian's private escape, a rush of anticipation coursed through Sam's veins. With practised ease, Sebastian discarded his helmet, the tousled strands of his hair catching the gentle breeze. It was a simple gesture, but one that never failed to stir Sam's heart, a reminder of the effortless allure that drew him to Sebastian in the first place.

Watching his boyfriend's casual grace, Sam couldn't help but marvel at the luck that had brought them together. "How did I ever end up with you," he whispered, the words carrying the weight of his awe and adoration.

Sebastian's laughter danced on the evening breeze, a melodic symphony that echoed through the tranquil landscape. With a knowing glint in his eyes, he met Sam's gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the deep bond that bound them together. "You tell me," he teased, his voice laced with affection.

His confident demeanour never failed to elicit a smile from Sam, and as he sent a playful wink in his direction, Sam's heart skipped a beat. It was the moments like these that made themselves known when they were alone, filled with laughter and affection, that reminded Sam why he had fallen so deeply in love. With the wind tousling their hair and the sound of waves crashing against the cliff side below.

“No idea,” Sam supplied in response with a playful shrug as he settled himself at the edge of the cliff, his gaze fixed on the endless expanse of sea stretching out before them, a sense of calm washed over him. With his helmet safely stowed beside the motorbike, he let his legs dangle over the edge, the cool breeze teasing at his hair and clothes. Despite the inherent danger of their precarious perch, the crashing waves below whispered a strange sort of solace to him, their relentless rhythm echoing the deafening currents of his own mind.

As he sat there, the weight of his thoughts pressing in on him, Sam couldn't help but acknowledge the unsettling comfort he found in the proximity to danger. It wasn't that he was actively seeking to end his own life—far from it—but rather, he grappled with the haunting presence of those passive thoughts, lurking just beneath the surface of his consciousness. The edge of the cliff beckoned to him, a daunting reminder of the fragility of life and the allure of the unknown beyond.

“You good?”

Beside him, Sebastian's presence offered a measure of reassurance, a silent anchor tethering him to the present moment. Despite the chasm of uncertainty yawning before them, Sebastian remained steadfast by his side, a silent guardian against the darkness threatening to engulf him. And as they sat together, the space between them bridged by their close bond, Sam found himself grappling with conflicting emotions—drawn to the edge yet tethered to the safety of Sebastian's embrace.

Sebastian shifted slightly, his eyes reflecting a mixture of concern and understanding as he searched for the right words to break the uneasy silence. "I'm not much for speeches," he began, his voice tinged with a hint of awkwardness, "but I want you to know... I'm here. Right here, with you."

He paused, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he reached out to gently squeeze Sam's hand. "I might not always understand what's going on in that head of yours, just like you don’t with uh- mine," he admitted with a self-deprecating chuckle, "but I do know one thing: I care about you. More than words can say."

Sebastian's gaze softened, his expression earnest as he continued, "So, if you ever feel like you're teetering on the edge, figuratively or literally, just remember—I've got your back. Always."

There was a brief moment of awkwardness as Sebastian fumbled for the right words, but his sincerity shone through, a beacon of comfort in the midst of uncertainty. And as they sat there, side by side, the weight of their unspoken fears lifted ever so slightly, replaced by the warmth of a connection forged in the fires of adversity.

Sebastian's words hung in the air, heavy with emotion, as he turned to face Sam with a tender expression. "You're not just my boyfriend," he began, his voice laced with sincerity, "you're my best friend. And I love you. Always have, always will." His words carried a weight that seemed to settle in the space between them, binding them together in a bond stronger than steel.

A faint smirk played at the corner of Sebastian's lips, a reflection of the deep affection he held for Sam. "So, buckle up, buddy," he continued, his tone soft yet resolute, "because you're stuck with me until the end." He paused, exhaling slowly as if to punctuate his declaration with a sense of finality.

But then, with a flicker of mischief dancing in his eyes, Sebastian's smirk widened. "And hey, remember our pact?" he added, his voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "If we're going down, we're going down together. We promised, remember? No one dies alone on our watch."

In that moment, amidst the backdrop of the fading sunlight and the gentle rustle of the wind, Sebastian's words carried a promise—a vow to stand by Sam's side through thick and thin, come what may. And as they shared a knowing look, the weight of their shared history and unspoken promises settled over them like a comforting embrace, anchoring them to each other in a world that often felt uncertain and unforgiving.

As Sam's gaze drifted to the churning waves below, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, carried away on the rising wind. The weight of their shared promise hung between them like a silent spectre, casting a shadow over their conversation. "Sometimes," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "I find myself wondering... when would be the right time to cash in on that promise. The pact, I mean."

His words hung in the air, pregnant with unspoken questions and lingering doubts. The crashing of the waves below seemed to echo the tumultuous churn of thoughts swirling in his mind. "I'm not saying I want to die now," he clarified hastily, his voice catching in his throat, "but sometimes... I can't help but wonder. What would it be like? How would we do it?"

There was a raw honesty in Sam's words, a vulnerability laid bare in the face of his deepest fears and uncertainties. And as he spoke, the wind whipped around them, carrying with it the weight of their unspoken fears and the gravity of their shared bond. In that moment, perched on the edge of the cliff, with the vast expanse of the sea stretching out before them, Sam's words lingered in the air like a haunting melody—a reminder of the promises they made to one another.

Sebastian's brow furrowed slightly, his gaze drifting out to the horizon as he contemplated Sam's words. There was a tense tension in the air, a sense of unease mingling with the salt-tinged breeze that ruffled his hair. "I... I don't know, Sam," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It's not something I've really thought about."

His admission hung between them, a fragile thread stretched taut with the weight of their shared uncertainty. Sebastian's fingers traced absent-minded patterns in the damp dirt beside him as he wrestled with the implications of Sam's words. "I mean, sure, we made that promise," he continued, his voice growing softer with each word, "but... does that mean we have to follow through with it?"

There was a hint of desperation in Sebastian's voice, a plea for reassurance in the face of the unknown. He shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering back to Sam's face, searching for some semblance of understanding. "I guess... I guess we'll figure it out when the time comes," he concluded with a forced smile, though his eyes betrayed a lingering sense of doubt. "But until then, let's focus on living, yeah?"

As the weight of their conversation settled over them like a heavy shroud, Sam's silence spoke volumes. His gaze remained fixed on the angry sea below, the crashing waves a chaotic symphony that mirrored the storm brewing within him. With each gust of wind, his clothes billowed around him, the fabric dancing in a frenzied rhythm against his skin.

The salty tang of the ocean lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp scent of seaweed and brine. Every now and then, a rogue wave would surge up the side of the cliff, sending a spray of cool sea water to shower over them, leaving salty droplets clinging to their skin.

"Yeah... I guess so," Sam murmured softly, his voice barely audible above the roar of the waves. There was a heaviness to his words, a sense of resignation tinged with a hint of defiance. Though he didn't voice his agreement, his actions seemed to signal the end of their conversation, drawing a curtain of silence over their shared thoughts.

And as they sat there, perched on the edge of the cliff, the wind whipping around them and the sea stretching out endlessly before them, the weight of their unspoken fears hung heavy in the air. In that moment of quiet introspection, Sam's words lingered like a haunting refrain—heavy with the weight of unspoken thoughts and tormenting emotions. As he gazed down at the crashing waves below, each crest rising like the outstretched arms of a beckoning siren, a haunting notion took root in his mind. The sea seemed to call to him, its rhythmic pulse echoing the tumultuous beat of his own heart.

Despite Sebastian's quiet disagreement, Sam found himself drawn to the idea with an intensity that bordered on obsession. The thought, once planted, refused to be ignored, its persistent whispers growing louder with each passing moment. It begged him to surrender to the embrace of the ocean, to let its depths swallow him whole and wash away the pain that gnawed at his soul.

But as the urge to yield to the sea's siren song surged within him, a wave of guilt washed over Sam like a crashing tide. He couldn't do it. He couldn't subject Sebastian to the anguish of witnessing such a final, irreversible act. Sebastian deserved better than that—a future filled with love and laughter, not one marred by the sight of loss and despair.

With a heavy heart, Sam pushed aside the relentless pull of the waves, steeling himself against their seductive allure. For now, he would wait. He would endure the storm raging within him, clinging to the hope that one day he could go through with it without the guilt of leaving those who he loved behind.

Sebastian shouldn’t have to see him do that. He could wait.

Though Sebastian's question cut through the heavy silence like a knife, the urgency in his voice barely audible over the roar of the crashing waves. His words hung in the air, laden with a weight that threatened to suffocate them both. But Sam, unable to meet his gaze, merely shrugged, a feeble attempt to deflect the conversation away from its inevitable course.

"We made that pact when we were kids," Sebastian continued, his words a desperate plea for reassurance, "but things are different now. We don't have to go through with it."

But Sam shook his head, the weight of his words heavy with unspoken anguish. "Everything has changed," he interjected, his voice tinged with a raw vulnerability that bordered on desperation. "We're both struggling, Sebastian. You know it, I know it. We're not okay."

As Sam's words spilled forth like a torrential downpour, Sebastian felt the weight of their shared struggles pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. The truth of their brokenness hung between them like a spectre, casting a long shadow over their fragile bond.

His voice cracked with emotion as he spoke, the dam of his composure threatening to burst under the weight of his confession. "Robin is trying to get you into rehab," he continued, his words a bitter reminder of the depths of their struggles, "and she doesn't even know about... about the self-harm like I do."

Tears welled in Sam's eyes as he spoke, his voice trembling with the weight of his pain. "I can't stop thinking about it," he admitted, his words tumbling out in a rush of desperation. "I don't want to die, Sebastian. I just... I just want it all to stop. I can't get better, but you can try."

In that moment of raw vulnerability, the facade of strength that they had both clung to for so long crumbled away, leaving only the raw, unvarnished truth of their shared pain and suffering. And as they sat there, on the cliff-edge of despair, Sebastian knew that they were teetering on the edge of something far greater than either of them could comprehend—a truth that threatened to consume them whole if they dared to face it head-on.

“Your family doesn’t know, do they?”

Sebastian's gentle inquiry pierced through Sam's fragile facade like a sledgehammer, shattering the illusion of strength he had struggled so desperately to maintain. The weight of his unspoken truth bore down on him with crushing force, threatening to consume him whole.

A choked sob tore through Sam's chest, raw and unfiltered, as he shook his head in silent admission. Tears streamed down his cheeks like a torrential downpour, each droplet a testament to the anguish that clawed at his heart. Without a word, Sebastian drew Sam into his arms, pulling him close with a tenderness that spoke volumes. His touch was a lifeline in the midst of Sam's storm, a beacon of comfort amidst the chaos of his unravelling emotions.

As Sam collapsed against him, the floodgates of his pain finally burst open, unleashing a torrent of pent-up sorrow and despair. Sebastian's hand moved in soothing circles against his back, a gesture of unwavering support and understanding.

Sebastian's probing question pierced through the fragile facade Sam had carefully constructed around himself. It was as if his words had reached into the depths of Sam's soul, tearing down the walls he had so desperately tried to build.
A trembling gasp escaped Sam's lips, his breath hitching in his throat as tears welled up in his eyes, threatening to overflow. The weight of his hidden pain became too much to bear, and with a heart-wrenching sob, he crumbled in on himself.
Sebastian's arms enveloped him in a comforting embrace, pulling him close as Sam's body shook with the force of his emotions. Each tear that streamed down his cheeks felt like a release, an intense purging of the anguish that had been eating away at him from within.

"I-I can't," Sam choked out between sobs, his voice ragged with emotion. "They can't know... My dad just got back, and I can't... I can't burden them with this. It would destroy my mother, and I can't... I can't tell her that I'm struggling. I can't tell her that I'm... that I'm suicidal." The words caught in his throat, the weight of them threatening to suffocate him.
Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to the crown of Sam's head, his touch gentle yet trembling with emotion.

He could feel the weight of Sam's pain pressing down on him like a lead cloak, the gravity of the situation leaving him feeling unsteady. His arms wrapped around Sam's trembling form, pulling him close in a gesture of comfort and protection. With each passing moment, he felt the tremors coursing through Sam's body, mirroring the turmoil raging within his own heart.

Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest as he pressed a tender kiss to the top of Sam's head, his touch feather-light yet filled with an intensity born of love and concern. His arms tightened around Sam, the tremble in his own hands betraying the nervousness that coiled within him like a knot of tangled emotions.

"Your family... they care about you, Sam," Sebastian's voice quivered slightly, his words infused with a gentle urgency. "They would want to know if you're hurting. They would want to help, even if it's difficult for them to hear."

His voice wavered, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a leaden weight. But despite his own fears, Sebastian refused to let Sam bear the burden alone. With every fibre of his being, he vowed to stand by his boyfriend's side, offering whatever comfort and support he could muster in the face of overwhelming darkness.

"You don't have to suffer in silence," Sebastian whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "I'm here for you, Sam. We'll get through this together." And as he held Sam close, his own heart aching with the weight of their shared pain, he prayed that his words would be enough to ease the anguish that threatened to consume them both.
Sam's voice trembled with desperation as he spoke, his words a fragile plea that hung heavy in the air. With tears glistening in his eyes, he clung to Sebastian's shoulder as if it were the only anchor keeping him from being swept away by the tsunami of his emotions.

"So... so we'll go through with it?" Sam's voice cracked with emotion, his words barely more than a whisper against Sebastian's skin. The weight of their pact, once a distant childhood promise, now bore down on him with suffocating intensity.
His breath hitched in his throat as he struggled to find the right words, the fear and uncertainty palpable in every trembling syllable. "The pact... us two," he stammered, his voice thick with emotion. "Not now... not yet. But you will? When we're ready?"

He looked up at Sebastian with wide, pleading eyes, searching desperately for some semblance of reassurance amidst the storm raging within him. In that moment, with the weight of their shared pain pressing down on them like a leaden weight, Sam clung to the fragile hope that together, they could find a way through the darkness. And as he waited for Sebastian's response, his heart ached with the knowledge that their fate hung in the balance, teetering on the edge of despair.

A shiver ran down Sebastian's spine as he grappled with the gravity of Sam's request, the enormity of their pact weighing heavily on his shoulders. But as he met Sam's gaze, his resolve hardened like tempered steel, a steely determination burning bright in his eyes.
"Yes," Sebastian breathed, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Yes, we'll go through with it. Not now, not yet, but when we're ready. Together." He reached out, cupping Sam's tear-streaked cheek in his palm, his touch gentle yet filled with unwavering conviction. "We'll be together, you won’t be alone,” he promised, his voice a steady anchor amidst the whirlwind of their emotions.

Sam's breaths came in shallow, uneven gasps as he struggled to steady his nerves, the weight of their conversation still heavy on his mind. He glanced up at the darkening sky, watching as ominous clouds gathered overhead, threatening to unleash their fury upon them.

"It's starting to rain," Sebastian's voice cut through the tense silence, jolting Sam from his thoughts. His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the impending storm that loomed on the horizon. "We should head home."

The tension between them was palpable, a thick fog of unease that seemed to envelop them like a suffocating blanket. Sam felt his heart clench in his chest as Sebastian's next words hung in the air, laden with unspoken implications.

"You can stay the night," Sebastian offered, his tone tinged with a mixture of concern and resignation. It was a gesture of kindness, a silent admission of the fear that gnawed at him like a ravenous beast. Sam understood without needing to be told—the nights were the hardest, the demons that haunted them growing more insidious under the cover of darkness.

Without a word, Sebastian passed Sam his helmet, a silent invitation to join him on the journey home. As they mounted the motorbike and set off into the gathering storm, the silence between them felt deafening, each passing moment filled with the weight of their unspoken fears and uncertainties.

The ride home was a blur of motion and sound, the roar of the engines drowned out by the deafening silence that hung between them. Despite the rhythmic hum of the motorbike beneath him, Sam couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gripped him like a vice, each passing mile stretching out before them like an endless expanse of uncertainty. And as they finally arrived at Sebastian’s house, the tension that had been building between them threatened to consume them both as Sam was led down to the other’s room in the basement to spend the night.

Chapter Text

The tangy taste of cigarettes lingered on his tongue, a bitter reminder of the moments leading up to this intimate exchange. With every gentle caress, the sensation was that of silk sliding over his skin, a delicate dance of affection. Yet, despite the tenderness shared between them, it all felt futile. No amount of care could shatter the suffocating illusion that enveloped them.

They were supposed to be in love, that was certain. But as their bodies intertwined in an attempt to bridge the chasm between them, it became painfully evident that something crucial was missing. Each touch, meant to convey adoration and desire, only served to ignite a fierce discomfort beneath Sebastian's skin. His lover's fingertips, though gentle, seemed to scorch rather than soothe.

No matter how delicately they tried to navigate this mess, it just didn't click. Every touch meant to convey love and longing only left Sebastian feeling like his skin was on fire.

Frustration mingled with a deep sense of inadequacy as Sebastian struggled to respond in the way Sam wanted. His body betrayed him, refusing to cooperate in this charade of affection. He couldn't rise to the occasion, no matter how hard he tried. And honestly, it made him feel like he was failing at the simplest thing in the world.

As they lay there, tangled in sheets and expectations, Sebastian couldn't help but wonder if they were just playing out a scene from a poorly written romance novel. With each failed attempt at intimacy, he felt himself unravelling, consumed by the desire to simply vanish from the situation altogether.

So there they were, tangled up in this awkward mess of a moment.

Sebastian, feeling like he wanted to disappear into thin air, while Sam probably wished they could rewind the whole thing. Ah, the joys of romance, huh?

Sam let out a soft sigh, his breath whispering across the expanse of the room, heavy with a mixture of understanding and just a hint of exasperation. With a tenderness that belied his slight frustration, he reached out to Sebastian, his fingers tracing feather-light patterns over bare skin. He knew it wasn’t the others fault obviously, but he couldn’t help it.

Each touch was a careful dance, as if Sam feared that one wrong move might fracture the delicate balance they teetered upon. Pressing a kiss to the curve of Sebastian's shoulder blade, he tried to convey reassurance through the softness of his lips, a silent plea for understanding.

"It's okay," Sam murmured, his voice a gentle murmur against Sebastian's ear. "We don't have to force anything. If you're not feeling it, we can just be here, together. You know that, right?" His words were stained with a sense of patience, tempered by the weight of their shared history and the desire to see his best friend and partner at ease.

The room was heavy with a shared sigh, as Sebastian's discontent filled the air. With a resigned grunt, he stared off into the distance, his thoughts wandering aimlessly. Meanwhile, Sam nestled in behind him, spooning him with an affectionate embrace. Ever the comforter, wrapping himself around Sebastian like a warm bear hug, peppering the back of his neck with gentle kisses, each one a small burst of affection.

Sam's lips traced a playful path along the curve of Sebastian's neck, each kiss accompanied by a light nip that elicited a soft chuckle from his lover. "I am in the mood, I just..." Sebastian's words trailed off, leaving the sentence hanging in the air like a half-finished thought.

Sensing the unspoken concern, Sam decided to lighten the mood. "Can't get it up?" he interjected with a reassuring smile, injecting a touch of humour into the otherwise tense moment. It was a blunt question, but delivered with a light-heartedness that diffused any potential awkwardness.

“Yeah..”

Sebastian's confession hung in the air, a weighty admission that begged for understanding. Sam, ever the patient soul, fell into a contemplative silence, his mind churning with thoughts on how best to respond. With a tender touch, he shifted closer, his lips trailing lightly up Sebastian's neck as he formulated his next words.

"That's fine," Sam finally spoke, his voice a gentle murmur against the warmth of Sebastian's skin. There was a patience in his tone, a quiet acceptance of whatever Sebastian needed to share. "Is this... normal for you?" he inquired, his curiosity tempered with a genuine desire to comprehend.

As Sebastian nodded in response, Sam couldn't help but feel a swell of compassion. "Huh... well, that's okay too," he reassured, a soft smile gracing his lips. Leaning in, he pressed tender kisses along Sebastian's jawline, each one a testament to his unwavering support.

"We can work with that," Sam offered, his voice filled with a quiet determination. "If you want to, that is." It was a simple statement, but it carried with it a promise of patience and understanding, a pledge to stand by Sebastian's side through whatever challenges lay ahead. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, feeling a mix of embarrassment and gratitude at Sam's understanding response. "Uh, yeah, I mean... thanks," he mumbled, his words stumbling over each other in his awkward attempt to express appreciation.

He cleared his throat, trying to gather his thoughts as he searched for the right words. "I, um... I appreciate you being... you know, patient and all," he managed, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

With a nervous chuckle, he reached out to squeeze Sam's hand, his gesture a clumsy attempt to convey his gratitude. "I guess... I guess I'm lucky to have you," he added, his voice tinged with sincerity amidst the awkwardness of the moment before Sam wiped said awkwardness away from the situation as he pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.

"Duh, plus intimacy doesn’t have to be sexual, babe," Sam's words tumbled out in a rush, his earnestness cutting through the tension like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds. His hands gestured animatedly as he spoke, his enthusiasm contagious. "I’m just happy making out with you, y’know this—oh, and don’t even get me started on cuddles. You give the best cuddles a guy can ever receive!"

There was an endearing earnestness in Sam's rambling, a genuine effort to reassure Sebastian and lighten the mood. Sebastian couldn't help but snort faintly as he rolled his eyes at his boyfriend's antics, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite himself.

"Oh, shut up," he teased, his voice carrying a warmth that belied his attempt at annoyance. In that moment, surrounded by Sam's affectionate chatter, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a rush of gratitude for the understanding and love they shared.

"Anyway, I'm hungry," Sam blurted out, his words tumbling forth in a rush of spontaneity. Whether he'd lost his train of thought or simply couldn't contain his appetite, Sebastian couldn't help but smile at his boyfriend's endearing quirks. After all this time, he'd grown accustomed to Sam's impulsive nature, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Do you think we could convince your mum to make us a pizza?" Sam's question hung in the air, punctuated by the rumble of his stomach. Sebastian chuckled softly in response, his heart warmed by the familiarity of their banter.

"I'll ask her in a minute," Sebastian promised, his voice soft and affectionate as he reached out to pull Sam closer. "But for now, it's cuddle time, Mr." There was a warmth in his tone, a quiet tenderness that spoke volumes about the depth of his love for Sam. As they settled into each other's embrace, Sebastian couldn't help but feel a profound sense of contentment, grateful for these simple moments they shared.

Sam let out a contented hum, nestling closer into Sebastian's embrace, revelling in the warmth and safety it provided. But as the minutes passed, a realisation dawned on him, manifesting in an exaggerated sigh that filled the room.

"I'm not getting out of this cuddle any time soon, am I?" Sam's complaint was laced with playful exasperation, his words accompanied by a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle at the dramatics, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

Without missing a beat, Sebastian took charge, rolling them over so that he now lay on top of Sam, their positions reversed but the closeness between them remaining unchanged. With his head comfortably resting against Sam's chest, Sebastian listened to the rhythmic beat of his lover's heart, finding solace in the familiar sound.

As if on cue, Sam's stomach rumbled loudly, a reminder of their shared hunger. Ignoring the interruption, Sebastian simply smiled and replied, "Nope," his voice filled with affection and a hint of mischief, content to remain locked in this embrace for as long as Sebastian desired.

Eating still felt impossible.

But Sam seemed oblivious to Sebastian's internal struggle, engrossed in helping himself to the freshly baked pizza. Sebastian, however, remained seated on the edge of his bed, watching quietly as his friend indulged in the savoury treat. The aroma of the pizza filled the room, assaulting Sebastian's senses and threatening to overwhelm him.

Just the smell alone was enough to make Sebastian's stomach churn uncomfortably, but he suppressed the urge to complain. It wouldn't be fair to his mother, who had lovingly prepared the meal. Sebastian couldn't bring himself to be rude to her, not even indirectly. Robin deserved better than that.

So, instead of indulging in the pizza, Sebastian settled for a bowl of fresh chowder. His mother had insisted it would be easier on his sensitive stomach, given the toll his eating disorder had been taking on him lately. But admitting to himself that he had a problem was a battle he wasn't ready to face. So there he sat, spooning the soup slowly, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of guilt, denial, and a longing for things to just feel normal again.

“You sure you don’t want any?” Sam's voice broke through the silence, the sound muffled by the food filling his mouth as he spoke. Sebastian couldn't help but grimace, a wave of nausea washing over him as he resisted the urge to turn away.

Grimacing, Sebastian shook his head, a feeble attempt to decline the offer without revealing the inner turmoil brewing inside him. "No... no, I'm uh... I'm good," he managed to stammer out, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure. His hand flew to his mouth instinctively, attempting to conceal the involuntary gag that threatened to rise from deep within.

The taste of bile lingered on his tongue, a bitter reminder of the internal battle he faced with every meal. But despite the discomfort, Sebastian pushed through, determined to hide his struggle from Sam, even as his stomach churned with unease. And in that moment, as he fought to keep his food down, Sebastian couldn't help but feel the weight of his own vulnerability pressing down upon him like a suffocating blanket.

"I... gimme a sec," Sebastian muttered, his voice strained with effort as he set down his bowl of chowder, the action more haphazard than he intended. He ignored the spillage staining his bedside table, his focus consumed by the urgent need to escape the suffocating atmosphere of the room.

With a sense of urgency pulsing through his veins, Sebastian made a hasty retreat to the bathroom, his movements clumsy as he pushed the door shut with a nudge of his leg. Alone in the confined space, he found himself bent over the toilet once more, his head swimming with a dizzying mix of discomfort and shame.

He tried his best to suppress the guttural sounds that escaped him, swallowing back the rising bile with a sense of resignation. In the dim light of the bathroom, his strained breaths echoed off the tiled walls, though being unable to stifle the sounds of his retching as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the porcelain bowl. Each heave sent waves of nausea rippling through him, but despite his best efforts to maintain a facade of normalcy, Sebastian couldn't escape the harsh reality of his situation.

Alone in the silence of the bathroom, he grappled with the physical and emotional toll of his struggles, longing for a reprieve that seemed perpetually out of reach.

He was exhausted.

The sound of the door creaking open barely registered over the cacophony within Sebastian's own body—a symphony of ringing in his ears, harsh, wheezy exhales, and the relentless pounding of his heart. His vision swam in and out of focus, a blur of shapes and colours that seemed to dance in front of his eyes.

Muffled footsteps approached, followed by voices drifting in from a distance, but they were mere echoes in the haze of Sebastian's consciousness. The figure standing before him was little more than a shadow, their features obscured by the fog that clouded his mind.

As darkness threatened to engulf him, Sebastian felt a sense of surrender wash over him. His limbs grew heavy, his body sinking into a state of numbness as the world faded away into nothingness.

…

Waking up in Harvey's medical clinic was not how Sebastian planned his day(..?) to unfold.

As his consciousness slowly returned, he found himself greeted by the harsh glare of fluorescent lights, their piercing brightness drilling into his still groggy eyes. With a groan, he pushed himself up from the hospital bed, the thin fabrics rustling softly with his movements.

The sound of the curtain being drawn aside startled him slightly, the metal rings squeaking against the pole they were attached to. Harvey emerged into view, clipboard in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other, his moustache twitching slightly against his bottom lip as he took a sip. Sebastian's gaze followed Harvey's movements, his mind still foggy from sleep and the remnants of whatever had brought him here. The doctor's attempt at nonchalance was betrayed by the quick placement of his mug, a clear acknowledgment of the lapse in professionalism.

"Ah, you're awake," Harvey finally spoke, his voice carrying a mix of relief and concern as he approached Sebastian's bedside. “Do you remember what happened?”

The teen blinked sluggishly at the doctor, his mind still swimming in a fog of confusion and exhaustion. Harvey's words seemed to pass through him like a distant echo, barely registering in his disoriented state. Instead, Sebastian let out a delirious hum, his response far from coherent, yet it elicited a soft chuckle from the doctor.

Despite the light-hearted moment, concern weighed heavily on Harvey's features as he observed Sebastian. The boy seemed lost in his own world, disconnected from the reality of his situation. With a sigh, Harvey spoke again, his voice gentle yet tinged with worry.

With a sigh laced with concern, Harvey watched Sebastian closely, his eyes scanning for any signs of improvement or distress. "You collapsed," he explained softly, his voice a steady anchor in the sea of confusion that enveloped Sebastian's mind. "Your mother brought you here. Would you like me to contact her for you?"

Harvey allowed the question to hang in the air, giving Sebastian the space and time he needed to process the information. He knew that moments like these required patience and understanding, and he was willing to wait for Sebastian to find his voice amidst the chaos of his thoughts.

Sebastian blinked sluggishly, the doctor's words slowly penetrating the fog in his mind. He struggled to piece together the fragments of memory, trying to make sense of what had happened. With a heavy sigh, he finally managed to form a coherent thought.

"Mum..." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze flickering towards the door as if expecting her to materialise at any moment. But then, a wave of uncertainty washed over him, and he hesitated.

"Um, yeah...- I mean, no," Sebastian stammered, his words stumbling over each other as he tried to articulate his thoughts. "I'm... I'm not sure." He chewed on his bottom lip nervously, torn between the desire for comfort and the fear of burdening his mother with worry.

"That's alright," Harvey's voice was a soothing balm, his words delivered with a tenderness that spoke volumes of his genuine concern for Sebastian's well-being. He sighed softly, the weight of responsibility settling heavily upon his shoulders as he cleared his throat, his gaze never leaving Sebastian's face. With a measured breath, Harvey continued, his tone calm and steady despite the gravity of the situation. "How about this," he proposed, his words tinged with a hint of resolve. "I'll explain this way. You collapsed, and unfortunately, there isn't much I can suggest to aid you other than a nasogastric tube."

Harvey's expression softened as he took a moment to gather his thoughts, his gaze never wavering from Sebastian's face. "You see, Sebastian," he began, his voice gentle yet tinged with reassurance, "your collapse could be indicative of various underlying issues, some of which may require further investigation."

He paused, allowing Sebastian a moment to absorb his words before continuing. "Given the circumstances, a nasogastric tube may be necessary to ensure that you receive the nutrients and hydration your body needs while we work to determine the root cause of your collapse." There was an understandable sense of concern in Harvey's tone, a genuine desire to provide Sebastian with the best possible care. "I know it may not be what you were hoping to hear, but please know that I'm here to support you every step of the way as your doctor. Your health and well-being are my top priorities."

Sebastian's brows furrowed in confusion, his mind struggling to grasp the gravity of Harvey's explanation. The words floated around him like disjointed puzzle pieces, refusing to connect into a coherent picture.

"Uh... yeah," he mumbled, his voice distant and unfocused. His gaze wandered aimlessly around the room, unable to settle on any one point of focus. "Nasogastric tube... yeah, sure." His words lacked certainty, a mere echo of the confusion swirling within him. Sebastian's movements were slow and lethargic as he shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed, the weight of Harvey's words bearing down on him like an invisible burden. He felt adrift, lost in a sea of confusion and disorientation, his grasp on reality slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

Harvey's sigh carried the weight of concern as he surveyed Sebastian, his gaze lingering on the young man's bewildered expression. With a resigned nod, he acknowledged the reality before him: Sebastian was far removed from the present moment.

"I'll ring your mother," Harvey's voice was gentle, a soothing presence amidst Sebastian's thoughts. "Stay here, alright?" His words were a lifeline, offering a semblance of stability in the midst of confusion. With a reassuring pat on Sebastian's shoulder, Harvey turned to leave, his footsteps echoing softly against the linoleum floor as he made his way to the phone to summon Robin to the clinic.

…

Moments later, the clinic door swung open, and Robin hurried inside, her face etched with concern as she scanned the room for any sign of her son. Her heart raced with worry, each passing second feeling like an eternity until her eyes finally landed on Sebastian's figure in the hospital bed. Rushing to his side, Robin's steps faltered momentarily as she took in the sight of her son, paler than normal and vulnerable, surrounded by the sterile medical environment. She reached out a trembling hand, brushing Sebastian's hair back from his forehead with a tender touch.

"Oh, sweetheart," Robin murmured, her voice thick with emotion as she took in the sight of her son lying there, seemingly lost in his own world. With a shaky breath, she forced herself to push aside her own fears, focusing instead on providing comfort to Sebastian in his time of need.

Taking a seat beside Sebastian's bed, Robin leaned in close, her voice a soothing presence in the quiet room. "I'm here, darling," she whispered, her words a promise of unwavering support. "Everything's going to be alright. Momma's here now."

With a gentle yet decisive touch, Harvey prepared the nasogastric tube, his movements deliberate as he readied the necessary equipment. He approached Sebastian's bedside with a calm demeanour, his focus unwavering as he sought to alleviate his patient's discomfort. "Alright, Sebastian," Harvey's voice was steady, his words a gentle reassurance as he explained the procedure. "I'm going to insert the nasogastric tube now. It may feel a bit uncomfortable, but it's important for your health."

Sebastian's expression flickered with a mix of apprehension and resignation, his uncertainty palpable in the air. But as Harvey began the procedure, carefully guiding the tube into place, Sebastian felt a reassuring squeeze on his hand.

Turning his gaze towards his mother, Sebastian found unmistakable in the warmth of her touch, her silent reassurance a source of strength in the face of uncertainty. With each passing moment, he felt a sense of calm wash over him, knowing that he wasn't alone in this moment.

As Harvey secured the nasogastric tube in place, he offered a nod of approval, satisfied with the successful completion of the procedure. Turning to Robin, he offered a small smile of gratitude for her unwavering support. "Thank you, Robin," Harvey spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "Sebastian is in good hands with you by his side."

"Are you alright, honey?" Robin's voice spoke up with concern as she turned her attention to her son, her eyes searching his face for any sign of distress. With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she tried to coax him back to reality.

Though, Sebastian's throat constricted with each passing moment, a reflexive urge to gag rising within him like a tidal wave. The ng tube felt cold and intrusive, its presence an unwelcome intrusion that seemed to linger like a shadow over his senses. He swallowed hard, the metallic taste of anxiety coating his tongue as he fought to suppress the instinctive urge to expel the intruder from his body.

"I'm... peachy," Sebastian croaked out weakly, his voice strained and unsteady. He exaggerated the words, his mouth contorting awkwardly as he struggled to speak around the foreign object lodged in his throat. It felt like a cruel joke, the sensation of the tube a constant reminder of his body's weakness.

…

The walk back home was a blur for Sebastian, a painful reminder of the state he found himself in. Each step felt heavy with the weight of his own regrets, a burden he carried with him like a ball and chain. Robin's watchful gaze never wavered, her concern a palpable presence that seemed to suffocate him with each passing moment.

Sebastian couldn't shake the feeling of being trapped, of being tethered to his mother's side like a lost child. He felt the weight of her worry pressing down on him, a constant reminder of the consequences of his own actions. As they made their way up to their house in the mountains, he longed for the solace of his own room, a sanctuary where he could hide away from the world and the judgmental eyes that seemed to follow him everywhere.

His thoughts drifted to Sam, to Abigail, to the comforting embrace of his friends. He yearned for the simplicity of their presence, for the warmth of their companionship. In that moment, all he wanted was to curl up with them like a child at a sleepover, to find refuge in their arms and escape from the turmoil of his own mind.

At least that was one thing he could rely on.

With each creak of the staircase beneath his unsteady steps, Sebastian felt the weight of exhaustion settle deeper into his bones. Yet, as he reached the bottom, a flicker of relief sparked within him at the sight of Sam waiting there, a beacon of comfort amidst the shadows of the dimly lit room.

Sam's expression mirrored a mix of worry and relief, his arms outstretched in a silent invitation. Sebastian didn't hesitate, collapsing into his embrace with a heavy sigh, seeking comfort in the familiar warmth of his lover's arms.

Nestled against Sam's chest, Sebastian felt a sense of calm wash over him, a fleeting moment of relaxation from the chaos of the world outside. Sam's gentle squeeze and the soft rub of his hand against Sebastian's back offered a reassurance that words alone couldn't convey.

"I've got you," Sam's voice was a whisper, filled with an unwavering determination to be there for Sebastian through it all. "I love you so much," he murmured, his words a tender declaration of his devotion. In that moment, as they clung to each other in the quiet of Sebastian's room, their love was a lifeline, anchoring them to each other in a world that felt so fucked up.

Chapter Text

Abigail was always one to keep to herself.

Abigail was a solitary soul, finding solace in the quiet corners of the world where she could retreat into her own thoughts and dreams. While she cherished the bond she shared with her boys, Sam and Sebastian, her heart belonged to the tranquillity of solitude.

There was a raw beauty in the way Abigail sought refuge in the embrace of nature, her spirit finding liberation in the vast expanse of the mountains. On rainy days, when the world seemed to weep alongside her, she would escape to the riverbank in the mountains, her flute a companion in the symphony of raindrops and rushing water. Only Linus, the gentle recluse of the valley, shared in her fantasy, his presence a silent testament to their shared appreciation for life's simple pleasures.

To Abigail, Linus was more than just a neighbour; he was a kindred spirit, a source of comfort in a world filled with chaos and discord. He offered her sanctuary from the storm, both literal and metaphorical, his weathered tent a haven where she could seek refuge from the tempests that raged within her own home.

As the arguments between her parents grew more frequent and volatile, Abigail found herself retreating further into herself, desperate to escape the turmoil that threatened to consume her. In Linus, she found a surrogate grandfather, a beacon of stability and unconditional love in a world that often felt anything but. And as she stood on the threshold of adulthood, facing the uncertainty of the future, Abigail knew that as long as she had her flute and the quiet companionship of her friend, she would always find a way to weather the storm.

Abigail loved her flute just as much as she loved her sword.

An escape just like the other, she adored adventuring down to the mines with her trusty blade her biological father had left her when she was young. She always loved it. The adventure, the danger and the constant urge to just.. escape.

The allure of rebellion was a siren song to Abigail, a melody that echoed in the depths of her soul and drew her into a world of danger and excitement. For her, smoking, music, and the thrill of uncertainty were more than just pastimes—they were lifelines, threads connecting her to a reality that existed beyond the confines of her small village.

In Alex, Abigail found a kindred spirit, a partner in crime who shared her insatiable appetite for adventure. Despite his reputation as a jock, there was a wildness in him that mirrored her own, a spark of defiance that burned brightly in the depths of his eyes. Together, they were a force to be reckoned with, a dynamic duo whose escapades left a trail of chaos and exhilaration in their wake.

Whether they were sneaking out of bedroom windows under the cover of night or leaving their mark on the walls of Jojamart with graffiti, Abigail and Alex revelled in the thrill of breaking the rules. And when the freight trains rumbled through the valley, their hearts pounded with excitement as they leaped onto the coaches, riding the rails into the unknown with reckless abandon.

In those moments, as they hurtled through the darkness with nothing but the wind in their hair and the stars overhead, Abigail felt truly alive. And with Alex by her side, she knew that no adventure was too daring, no risk too great. Together, they were invincible, bound by a bond forged in the fires of teenage rebellion and the promise of endless possibility.

But there had come times when it wasn’t enough, as much as she loved going on chaotic adventures she knew she had to wind down some way or another whether that was with her flute or simply just smoking.

Hence how she ended up where she was now. Sat at the edge of the weather-beaten pier, Abigail's senses were overwhelmed by the damp chill that clung to the air, seeping into her bones and mingling with the scent of saltwater and seaweed. Her once vibrant purple hair hung limply, weighed down by the relentless rain that had drenched her to the core.

With trembling hands, she lifted a cigarette to her lips, her breath hitching as she struggled to steady her nerves. The rain had eased to a soft drizzle, the gentle pitter-patter of droplets against the wooden planks beside her being a rhythmic backdrop to her turmoil.

But as she attempted to light her cigarette, frustration bubbled within her like a tempest waiting to erupt. Her lighter refused to cooperate, the flame flickering weakly before sputtering out altogether. Abigail cursed under her breath, her irritation mounting with each failed attempt.

"Here, kid," a voice broke through the haze of her frustration, drawing her attention like a beacon in the storm. Turning her gaze towards the source, she found Willy, the old fisherman, standing before her with a sympathetic smile. In his weathered hand, he offered her his zippo lighter, its flame steady and unwavering in the gloom.

"Mind if I join you?" Willy's voice was a comforting rumble, his presence a balm to her troubled soul. His genuine concern washed over her like a wave, a reminder that she wasn't alone in her struggles. With a nod of gratitude, Abigail accepted his offer, lighting her cigarette before handing the lighter back to him.

"Go ahead," Abigail murmured, her voice a weary exhale as she took a slow drag from her cigarette, the tendrils of smoke curling around her like a protective shield. Her voice barely audible above the sound of the waves lapping against the pier. She watched in silence as Willy, the seasoned fisherman, settled himself beside her on the worn wooden planks of the pier, the weight of years etched into the lines of his weathered face.

With a heavy sigh, she took a slow drag from her cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the dim light of dusk. Her gaze flickered towards Willy as he settled beside her, the worn planks groaning softly under his weight as he got comfortable.

The old fisherman exuded a sense of calmness, a quiet strength that seemed to envelop Abigail like a comforting embrace. She watched as he carefully nestled his fishing rod beside him, the familiar routine a soothing balm to her frazzled nerves. With practised ease, he lit his pipe, the smoke curling lazily into the air like wisps of memories.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Willy's voice was gentle, a soft melody that cut through the silence like a beacon of understanding. His eyes held a warmth that spoke volumes of his empathy, a silent invitation for Abigail to unburden herself of the weight she carried.

For a moment, Abigail hesitated, the words caught in her throat like fish struggling against the tide. But as she met Willy's gaze, she felt a sense of trust wash over her, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that begged to be shared. With a nod, she released a shaky breath, her voice thick with emotion as she finally spoke.

"It's just... my parents again, same old fight, you know?" Abigail grumbled, her irritation evident in the way she punctuated her words with sharp exhales of smoke. "Like, so what if Pierre isn't my dad? I don't claim him to be, and yet it's the same thing every time—how if my mother was so willing to have a child with another man, why won't she have one with him? It's just..." She trailed off with a heavy sigh, frustration colouring her tone as she flicked the ash from her cigarette. "It's stupid. He acts like he wants another kid when he barely treats me like his daughter."

Willy's empathy radiated through the soft hum that escaped his lips, a comforting melody that resonated with Abigail's troubled heart. With a weary sigh, he leaned back against the weathered wood of the pier, his gaze fixed on the horizon as he gathered his thoughts.

"Well, I'm not claiming to have all the answers here," he began, his voice tinged with the wisdom of years lived and lessons learned. "But I am old," he chuckled softly, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes as he sought to lighten the heavy atmosphere. He tapped the side of his nose lightly, a playful gesture meant to offer a moment of light heartedness in the midst of Abigail's turmoil.

"Maybe you should leave it be," Willy suggested gently, his words carrying the weight of experience. "It's not for you to worry about, kid. You've got your own life ahead of you yet, and if he can't respect you as his child, then he isn't a parent worth fretting over." His voice was firm but kind, a reminder that Abigail deserved to be valued and respected for who she was, not for who others wanted her to be.

As the gentle lapping of the waves filled the silence between them, Willy's presence offered Abigail a sense of solace, a reminder that she was not alone in her struggles. With his words echoing in her mind, she felt a glimmer of hope stirring within her, a belief that perhaps, in the end, she would find the peace and acceptance she so desperately sought.

Willy's words carried a profound weight as he sought to impart his wisdom to Abigail, his voice a soothing balm to her troubled soul. With a gentle yet firm tone, he offered her a perspective that resonated deep within her heart.

"Blood doesn't equal family, kid," Willy began, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. "It's who you choose to be your family, and if you choose to separate yourself from those you don't see as family, then so be it. It's your life, and you're the one writing your own story." His words hung in the air, pregnant with meaning, as Abigail absorbed their significance.

With a reassuring smile, Willy reached out and lightly patted her shoulder, the warmth of his touch a tangible reassurance of his support. In that moment, amidst the backdrop of the ocean's gentle melody and the soft glow of the fading daylight, Abigail felt a sense of peace wash over her.

"Do what makes you happy," Willy urged gently, his eyes sparkling with kindness and understanding. It was a simple yet profound directive, a reminder that in the end, Abigail held the power to shape her own destiny and define her own sense of belonging. And with Willy's guidance and support, she knew that whatever path she chose, she would never walk it without other’s believing in her.

Abigail's gaze lingered on Willy's wrinkled face, her eyes reflecting a mixture of gratitude and contemplation as she absorbed his words like a parched desert drinking in the rain. The soft lull of the ocean provided a comforting backdrop to their conversation, a gentle rhythm that mirrored the ebb and flow of life itself.

With a deft hand, Willy tended to his fishing rod, his movements practised and deliberate as he skilfully reeled in a catch. Abigail watched in awe, her attention momentarily diverted by the spectacle before her. As Willy cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled between them, she refocused her attention on his wise, weathered face.

"Say, kid," Willy began, his voice carrying a warmth and familiarity that washed over Abigail like a gentle embrace. "You're like a niece I never had. You get all caught up in that head of yours just like I do. Sometimes, you just need to take a step back and do what makes you happy. Don't you think so?"

His words struck a chord within Abigail, resonating deep within her soul. She nodded slowly, a flicker of understanding dawning in her eyes as she realized the truth in Willy's words. In that moment, she felt a kinship with the old fisherman, a sense of connection that transcended words.

"Yes," Abigail murmured softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes, I think you're right." And as she spoke, she felt a weight lift from her shoulders, replaced by a newfound sense of clarity and purpose. With Willy's guidance and support, she knew that she could find her own path to happiness, one step at a time.

Willy's nod was accompanied by a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked upon Abigail with a paternal fondness. Slowly rising to his feet, he adjusted his grip on his fishing pole, the weight of the freshly caught eel dangling from the line in his other hand.

"Say, how about you join me in my cabin?" Willy suggested, his voice gentle yet filled with a hint of excitement. "We'll get a meal down you. I heard through the grapevine that you're fond of one of my special spicy eel dishes." His invitation hung in the air, a testament to the bond that had formed between them.

Abigail's heart swelled with gratitude as she scrambled to her feet, a grateful smile playing on her lips. With a quick motion, she extinguished her cigarette, the ember fading to darkness as she followed Willy into his humble fishing shack.

"Sounds delicious," she replied, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm. As they disappeared into the warmth of Willy's cabin, the scent of the sea mingling with the promise of a hearty meal, Abigail couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over her. In that moment, as she walked beside Willy, she felt as though she had found a grandfather she never knew she needed—a guardian of the sea and a keeper of her heart.

Abigail stepped into Willy's kitchen, the worn wooden floorboards creaking softly under her weight as she crossed the threshold. The room was cosy and inviting, bathed in the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the small window above the sink. The walls were adorned with nautical memorabilia—weathered fishing nets, faded photographs of Willy's past catches, and seashells collected from distant shores—all serving as a testament to his life on the sea.

Taking a seat at the dining table, Abigail couldn't help but admire the simplicity and authenticity of Willy's home. The furniture, though well-loved and weathered, exuded a rustic charm that spoke to the soul of a fisherman. The sturdy oak dining table bore the marks of years of use, its surface adorned with a simple faded checkered tablecloth and a vase of wildflowers picked from the nearby meadow.

As she settled into her seat, Abigail's gaze wandered to the hearth, where a crackling fire cast dancing shadows across the room. The aroma of wood smoke mingled with the salty tang of the sea, creating a comforting atmosphere that enveloped her like a warm embrace.

Meanwhile, Willy bustled about the kitchen with practised efficiency, his weathered hands moving deftly as he prepared the ingredients for his signature spicy eel dish. The clatter of pots and pans filled the air, accompanied by the rhythmic sound of chopping and stirring—a symphony of culinary expertise that spoke volumes of Willy's skill as a cook in his own kitchen. As well, it wasn’t the first time he had cooked meals for the other townspeople.

As Abigail watched the old fisherman work his magic in the kitchen, she couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over her. In this humble abode, surrounded by the sights, sounds, and smells of the sea, she found herself in the presence of a kindred spirit—a man who, like her, had found solace and purpose in the embrace of the ocean. And as Willy set a steaming bowl of spicy eel stew before her, Abigail knew that she was not just sharing a meal with a friend, but with a grandfather.

Willy settled into his seat opposite Abigail, his face creasing into a warm smile as he nodded towards her. With a gentle hand, he placed his own plate on the table, the aroma of spicy eel filling the air with an irresistible fragrance. "Want any drinks to wash it down?" Willy offered, his voice carrying a hint of mischief. "I do warn you, it may be a little on the more spicy side." His chuckle was hearty and genuine, the sound of it echoing through the cosy kitchen like the comforting embrace of a grandfather.

Abigail shrugged softly, a playful glint dancing in her eyes as she watched Willy rise from his seat to rummage through the cluttered shelves of his picture-adorned fridge. She couldn't help but marvel at the eclectic collection of mementos that adorned the old appliance—photographs of past fishing trips, faded postcards from far-off lands, and magnets shaped like fish that had seen better days.

As Willy hummed in thought, his hand reached for a bottle of home-made brandy tucked away in the back of the fridge. With a practised twist of the cap, he poured two generous glasses, the amber liquid glinting in the soft glow of the kitchen's overhead light.

"Here, you're old enough, aren't ya?" Willy chuckled, his eyes twinkling with affection as he joined Abigail back at the table. With a clink of their glasses, they toasted to the simple pleasures of good food, good company, and the enduring bond between the two like grandfather and grand daughter. Willy leaned in conspiratorially, a playful glint in his eye as he lowered his voice. "Don't tell your mother," he added with a wink, a mischievous twinkle dancing in his gaze. Abigail couldn't help but giggle in response, her laughter filling the cosy kitchen like a melody.

Raising the glass to her lips, Abigail took a slow sip of the home-made brandy, savouring the warmth that spread through her chest with each swallow. The taste was rich and smooth, with just a hint of sweetness that lingered on her tongue.

With a contented sigh, she set the glass down and turned her attention to the steaming bowl of spicy eel stew before her. The aroma alone was enough to make her mouth water, the savoury scent mingling with the tang of spices to create a symphony of flavours that tantalized her senses. Without hesitation, Abigail dove into her meal, savouring each bite with gusto. The tender pieces of eel practically melted in her mouth, their rich, spicy flavour exploding on her palate with each mouthful. It was a dish unlike any she had tasted before, a testament to Willy's culinary powers and his unwavering commitment to the art of cooking.

As she savoured each bite, Abigail couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over her. In this moment, surrounded by the warmth of Willy's kitchen and the comforting embrace of his company, she felt a sense of belonging that she had never experienced before. And as she stole a glance at the old fisherman sitting across from her, a smile playing on his lips, she knew that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

After enjoying their meal together, Abigail and Willy spent the rest of the evening swapping stories and sharing laughter. With each tale, the bond between them grew stronger, weaving a tapestry of memories that would forever bind them together.

As the last of the sunlight faded from the sky and the stars began to twinkle overhead, Abigail glanced at the clock on the wall and realized how late it had become. With a reluctant sigh, she rose from her seat, stretching her limbs as she prepared to bid Willy farewell. "Thank you for everything, Willy," Abigail said with genuine gratitude, her voice tinged with sadness at the thought of leaving. "I had a wonderful time."

Willy smiled warmly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he reached out to squeeze Abigail's hand affectionately. "Anytime, my dear," he replied, his voice filled with warmth and affection. "You know where to find me if you ever need a listening ear or a warm meal."

With a final embrace, Abigail made her way to the door, her heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks. As she stepped out into the cool night air, she couldn't help but feel a sense of hope stirring within her. In Willy's humble fishing shack, she had found not only a friend but a kindred spirit—a grandfather who had welcomed her into his home and his heart with open arms. And as she made her way home, guided by the light of the moon and the memories of their time together, Abigail knew that she would cherish this evening for years to come.

In the quiet moments after bidding Willy farewell, Abigail found herself reflecting on the true meaning of family. She knew, without a shadow of doubt, who her real family was—her friends, Linus and Willy. They were her anchors in a sea of uncertainty, the steady hands that guided her through life's turbulent waters.

It was a strange realization, one that filled her with a sense of both comfort and longing. Despite the absence of blood ties, Abigail knew that Linus and Willy felt like home in a way that her own parents never could. They were her safe harbour, the sanctuary she sought when the storms of life grew too fierce.

As she walked the familiar path back to her parents' house, Abigail couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at her soul. It was a feeling she had grown accustomed to—a longing for something she couldn't quite name, a yearning for a place that existed beyond the confines of brick and cement.

But now, she knew where to find it. She knew that when that indescribable feeling of "wanting to go home" struck again, she need only seek out the warm embrace of her true family—the friends who knew her heart and soul, the ones who accepted her unconditionally for who she was.

And as she stepped through the threshold of her parents' house, greeted by the familiar sights and sounds of her childhood home, Abigail couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. For she knew that while this may be the place where she grew up, it would never be her true home. That honour belonged to the ones who knew her, loved her, and accepted her for exactly who she was. In their company, she found solace, security, and the true meaning of family.

Not this hellscape.

With each step she took through the echoing corridors of her childhood home, Abigail felt the weight of her parents' arguments pressing down on her shoulders like a burden too heavy to bear. The sound of their voices, raised in anger and frustration, reverberated through the walls, seeping into every crevice of the house.

As she reached her bedroom door, Abigail couldn't help but feel a pang of regret wash over her. She wished she had sought solace in the comforting presence of Sebastian, Sam, or even Alex—anyone but her parents. But the thought of facing them, of having to navigate the treacherous waters of their arguments, filled her with a sense of dread that she couldn't shake.

The constant bickering had become a familiar soundtrack to her life, a relentless cacophony that invaded her every waking moment. Pierre's voice, sharp and cutting, clashed with her mother's, each word a weapon in their ongoing battle.

Abigail hated it all—the tension that hung in the air like a dark cloud, the sleepless nights spent lying awake, the fear that gnawed at her insides like a hungry beast. She hated having to wait by her bedroom door, waiting and ready to intervene should things take a turn for the worse.

But as she stood there, enveloped in the suffocating silence of her room, Abigail couldn't help but feel a flicker of hope stir within her. For amidst the chaos of her parents' arguments, she knew that she would always have her friends—the ones who understood her, supported her, and provided the refuge she so desperately craved. And as she closed her eyes, shutting out the world beyond her bedroom door, Abigail clung to that glimmer of hope like a lifeline in the darkness.

She wanted to go home.

Chapter Text

Chipped nail polish was a way to describe them.

A cacophony of colours, a rainbow of smudged, chipped horrors like broken glass shone on by the sunrise. Each member of the group was like a unique brushstroke on a canvas, their personalities colliding to create a vibrant mosaic of humanity.

Chipped nail polish; like battle scars, adorned their fingertips, telling stories of resilience and defiance against societal norms.

They didn't fit the cookie-cutter image portrayed in the media. Their struggles laid bare like open wounds, forming the foundation of their bond, forging connections deeper than traditional friendship.

As the sunrise bathed them in its gentle glow, their presence illuminated the world around them, casting aside shadows of doubt and insecurity. Though burdened by their own demons—eating disorders, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts—they found comfort in their troubles. A sickeningly sweet comfort that weaved it's way into their lives like vines, wrapping around them and dragging them further into their pain.

Sebastian, Sam and Abigail.

Three soldiers sewing their own tale. Each thread of the needle seems to conjoin with the other's, ever so slowly weaving the tapestry of their troubles into one.

They knew they weren't cool like the other teens, Haley had her dreams, Alex had his dreams, as did Elliot and Emily. And yet the trio didn't seem to have anything going for them, no dreams, no beneficial interests that could create a future for them.

Abigail wanted to be a warrior, a fighter deep in the mines. And yet it was brushed off as some pathetic childish dream she had. Or her video games, her continuous save of “Journey of the Prairie King” that she promised to herself she'd reach the end of before her death.

Sam wanted their band to reach the headlines. He wanted to reach out of the reach of Pelican town and gain popularity in the media. Or his skateboarding hobby, he wanted to be a professional skater, something that also seemed like a childish dream. Nothing but a hobby.

Sebastian? He didn't know. He never had any plans of what he wanted to be. His first suicide note from years ago still remained folded up and tucked up in a box in his wardrobe hidden from sight. The collection of many throughout the years and yet none of his attempts had worked, foolish, really. Just a pathetic attention seeker that he deemed himself as.

No normal healthy person would want to commit suicide. Right? He didn't do it for attention. No, he'd never do that, but his own brain couldn't comprehend that. Each time he failed it filled him with the unbelievable sense of anxiety, if someone had found the messes he had made he would never hear the end of it. It was humiliating. To fail.

Just another thing he couldn't do right. Huh?

Sebastian felt the weight of exhaustion settling deep within his bones, a heavy burden he carried in silence. The signs were unmistakable—Harvey's concerned glances, his mother's anxious stares, and the haunting absence of worry in his own eyes. Each day, new scars adorned his sickly pale skin, silent witnesses to battles fought in the shadows of his mind.

Yet, amidst the turmoil of his own struggles, he clung to a fragile thread of purpose: his friends. They were his lifeline, the reason he dragged himself through each monotonous day. Despite the darkness threatening to engulf him, he refused to let it consume those he held close as his own metaphorical life jackets.

Every moment was a delicate balance, a tightrope walk between his own problems and the needs of those around him. He intervened when Alex's temper flared, deflecting blows meant for Sam's face bound to break the blonde’s nose again.

Or when he became the silent guardian for Abigail, in the dead of night, he became her silent saviour, stealing her away from the cacophony of screams and shattered dreams slipping her away from the chaos of her parents' arguments as they began to sour.

For Sebastian, there was no rest, no relief from the relentless demands of his fractured world. Yet, in the chokehold of his own pain, he continued to provide a sanctuary for his friends who needed it most.

…

In the dimly lit sanctuary of Sebastian's room, the trio huddled together like soldiers in a bunker, seeking refuge from the storm raging outside. With the door locked and clothes stuffed up to the bottom of it to mute the smell and the windows cracked open for a breath of fresh air, they formed an impenetrable fortress against the chaos of the world.

As the bong made its rounds, passing from trembling hand to trembling hand, the room filled with the fragrant haze of escape. Abigail, her eyes swollen from tears shed in the darkness of her own home, took the first hit, her delicate frame shrouded in a veil of smoke.

Her voice, tinged with fragility, cracked as she offered a faint semblance of normalcy amidst the three of them. “It's good stuff,”

In the quiet moments between puffs, their unspoken bond spoke volumes—a silent pact forged in the fires of comfort. Sam, having struggled to rest, had risked it all to rescue Abigail from the suffocating grip of her family's arguments. And Sebastian, weary yet unwavering, had opened his door without hesitation, offering his haven as a sanctuary for his best friends.

"Got it from Emily," Sebastian remarked with a casual shrug, a hint of pride lacing his tone. "Homegrown."
Abigail let out a snort of amusement. "Explains it," she quipped, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Smoke lazily curled upwards, a tranquil dance towards the ceiling, as the bong made its rounds among the three friends, each taking their turn to partake in the ritual of relaxation. Though Sam's fingers danced awkwardly over the scattered papers from where he was sat, a symphony of rustling echoing in the dimly lit room as he clumsily attempted to roll blunts. Each movement was a clumsy mess of exploration, a testament to his determination to prepare for the inevitable morning as he squinted through the dim light of the room to do so.

"These are for later," he announced with a hint of resignation, his voice carrying a weight of anticipation for the morning that lay ahead. With a weary sigh, he added, "For the morning," his words laced with a longing to bring some of the drugs that eased his thoughts with him.

Sebastian's shoulders rose in a nonchalant shrug, a facade of indifference masking the weariness that lay beneath. "Go ahead, I don't mind," he conceded, his words carrying a resigned acceptance of their chosen means of escape. Casting a glance towards Abigail, he added, "You're fine to grab some too."

With a faint snort, he couldn't help but chuckle at Sam's clumsy attempt to roll blunts. Taking matters into his own hands, he gently relieved his partner of the mess, stubbornly rerolling the joints with practised efficiency.

"I'll ask Emily if she has anything stronger in the morning," he murmured, the weight of exhaustion evident in his voice. "I'm sure she does. Yoba knows we need it," he added with a heavy sigh, his words tinged with a mixture of resignation and desperate longing for relief.

"Or hell, maybe Linus does," Sebastian mused aloud, his voice laced with uncertainty as he pondered their options. "But eh... do we trust more, uh, nature-based crap or stick to whatever Emily gives us?" His gaze shifted between his friends, seeking their input on the matter, a silent plea for guidance in the haze of their shared dilemma.

With a decisive nod, he turned his attention to Sam, a small collection of neatly rolled blunts cradled in his hands. Passing them over, he watched as his friend deftly stuffed them into an Altoid box, a makeshift hiding space for their precious cargo. Once the box was full, Sam tucked it away into his pocket with practised ease, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they shared and the secrets they carried.

Sam nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "Yeah, Linus might have some good stuff too," he agreed, his voice tinged with curiosity. "But Emily's stuff has always been solid," he added with a shrug, a hint of trust underlying his words.

Abigail chimed in, her eyes flickering with a mixture of amusement and scepticism. "Nature-based crap sounds kinda sketchy," she remarked, a playful smirk gracing her lips. "But hey, if it works, who am I to judge?" She glanced at Sebastian with a knowing look, their shared experiences weaving an unspoken understanding between them. "Let's just hope whatever we choose helps us survive another day," she concluded with a wry grin, a glimmer of hope shining through the haze of uncertainty.

Sebastian's lips curved into a knowing smile as he directed his attention towards Abigail, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. "You eat rocks," he teased, his tone laced with affectionate banter, "you find any good crystal crap that can give us a good high yet?"

Ignoring Abigail's scoff of surprise and the exaggerated mock shock that followed, Sebastian leaned back against the wall, his gaze fixed on his friend with an amused twinkle. Her hand pressed to her chest in jest, Abigail feigned indignation, her laughter mingling with the faint scent of smoke that lingered in the air.

Abigail rolled her eyes playfully, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Oh please," she retorted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just because I have a rock collection doesn't mean I'm a crystal guru," she quipped, her tone light and teasing. With a theatrical flourish, she waved a dismissive hand. "But who knows," she added with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, "maybe I'll stumble upon something that'll blow your mind." Her laughter bubbled up, a melodic counterpoint to the playfulness that filled the room.

Sebastian chuckled, his tone carrying a hint of mischief as he responded, "Nah, sounds fun and all, but I have Sam for that." His words were accompanied by a playful smirk, a silent insinuation dancing beneath the surface.

Beside him, Sam's expression shifted from confusion to realisation, a bewildered gasp escaping his lips as he glanced between Sebastian and Abigail, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. With a groan, he buried his face in his hands, the weight of Sebastian's implication hanging heavy in the air, eliciting a chorus of laughter from the trio.

"Well now, that just... that wasn't... hey!" Sam's words stumbled out in a mixture of surprise and amusement as he playfully nudged his boyfriend's shoulder, a grin spreading across his face.

Sebastian couldn't help but snort lightly at Sam's reaction. "You know you love me," he retorted with a teasing grin, sticking his tongue out at the blonde.

Abigail giggled at the playful banter between her two best friends, her laughter bubbling up like a melody in the air. "Guys, this is so gay, I'm gonna vomit," she teased, her tone dripping with mock disgust as she punctuated her words with a playful gag noise.

The corner of Sebastian's lips twitched with a mischievous smirk as he glanced at Abigail, his eyes dancing with playful intent. He took another hit from the bong, exhaling slowly as he turned his attention to Sam, who rolled his eyes in mock annoyance.

"Oh yeah?" Sebastian chimed in, his tone teasing as he leaned forward slightly towards Sam. "Come on, you can't tell me you don't think Sam's such a pillow princess." His smirk widened, a hint of smug satisfaction evident in his playful jab as he aimed his words at Abby.

Abigail snorted with laughter, shaking her head as she surveyed Sam with a playful glint in her eyes as she watched him blush. "No, no, I see it," she agreed with a nod, her voice tinged with amusement as she joined in on the teasing.

The blonde's cheeks flushed with embarrassment, his eyes rolling once more in a playful display of mock annoyance. Despite his attempt to appear nonchalant, it was evident that he was flustered by the teasing.

"I am not!" Sam protested, his voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and defiance, his hands gesturing emphatically as he denied Sebastian's playful accusation.

Sebastian hummed knowingly, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as he elbowed Sam's side gently. "Oh yeah?" he teased, his tone laced with amusement and a hint of challenge, eager to see how Sam would respond to the playful banter.

Abigail leaned back against the bed behind her, her lips curling into a sly grin as she watched the exchange between Sebastian and Sam unfold. With a playful twinkle in her eyes, she interjected, "Oh, come on, you two. It's like watching a romantic comedy, but with more weed."

Her teasing remark was accompanied by a soft chuckle, her amusement evident in the way her eyes sparkled with mischief. Despite the lighthearted tone, there was a warmth in her words, a silent acknowledgment of the bond shared between the trio.

"I mean, like, you could join in, y'know?" Sebastian's words spilled out with a playful lilt, his eyes dancing mischievously as he leaned forward. "I don't think anyone could out-bottom Sam."

Abigail let out a snort of laughter, her gaze sweeping over Sebastian as she considered his suggestion. "Hmm, interesting proposition," she mused, her voice tinged with amusement as she hummed in thought.

"If anyone, you'd be a bratty bottom, Sebby," she teased, her grin widening as she playfully sized him up. "Let's be honest here, out of us three, I'd probably be the most dominant," she declared with a confident smirk, her words carrying a hint of challenge.

Sam paused, his gaze shifting between Abigail and his boyfriend, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Come to think of it," he finally chimed in, his voice thoughtful, "I can see that." A hint of amusement danced in his eyes as he considered the dynamics of their playful banter.

Sebastian's lips curled into a playful smirk, a glimmer of mischief lighting up his eyes as he considered Abigail's assertion. "Oh, really now?" he quipped, his tone teasing as he leaned back, propping himself up against the wall.

With a subtle raise of his eyebrow, he cast a sidelong glance at Sam before turning his attention back to Abigail. "Well, if that's the case," he replied with a playful wink, "maybe I'll have to up my game."
His words were laced with a hint of challenge, a silent invitation for Abigail to bring it on, ready to play along in their spirited exchange.

Abigail's smirk widened, her confidence matching Sebastian's playful energy. "Maybe you do," she replied with a playful glint in her eye, her voice dripping with anticipation. "We've got all night, don't we?"

Sam let out a low whistle, his eyes dancing with amusement as he watched the playful banter between his best friend and boyfriend unfold. "This is hot," he remarked casually, his tone tinged with humour. "Can I watch?"

His words hung in the air, a casual invitation to witness the verbal sparring match between the two, his playful demeanour adding to the lighthearted atmosphere of their impromptu exchange as he smugly smirked at the sight.

Abigail's grin widened into a playful smirk as she glanced between Sam and Sebastian. "Sure thing," she replied with a playful wink, her tone filled with mischief. "Just sit back and enjoy the show."

Sebastian chuckled, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he leaned closer to Abigail. "You ready for this?" he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his playful challenge hanging in the air.

With a nod and a smirk, Abigail leaned in, her gaze locking with Sebastian's. "Bring it on," she whispered back, her voice filled with determination and excitement, ready to match wits with her best friend. "Let's see who comes out on top." His words carried a hint of excitement, ready to engage in their friendly banter with unbelievable confidence.

Sam observed the scene with an air of unbothered yet intrigued interest, his eyes flickering between Sebastian and Abigail as they exchanged a silent glance. With a nod of permission from Sam, Sebastian leaned in towards Abigail, his movements tentative yet determined.

Softly pressing his lips to hers, Sebastian initiated the kiss, a gentle gesture that spoke volumes of their bond. Abigail didn't hesitate to respond, her arms encircling Sebastian as she pulled him close, her lips meeting his with a fervent intensity.

As they kissed, a sense of electric anticipation hung in the air, sparked by the combination of weed-induced confidence and the underlying chemistry between the trio. It was a moment of connection, a testament to the trust and affection they shared, leaving both boys intrigued by the depth of their relationship with Abigail.

"Holy shit," Sam's voice cut through the air, his words escaping in a breathless whisper as he watched the scene unfold before him. His cheeks flushed with a mixture of surprise and awe as he witnessed the intensity of the kiss between Sebastian and Abigail.

"Yeah, hate to break it to you, babe," he added with a playful smirk, his gaze fixed on Sebastian, "but Abby's definitely more dominant than you are." The words spilled out with a teasing edge, a lighthearted observation that only added to the playful dynamic between the trio.

Sebastian pulled back slightly, his lips still tingling from the intensity of the kiss. With a dazed yet content expression, he ran a hand through his hair, regaining his composure after the electrifying moment.

He shot Sam a playful grin, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "Well, can't argue with that," he quipped, his tone light as he acknowledged the truth in Sam's observation. Despite the teasing, there was a warmth in his words, a silent appreciation for the unique dynamic they all shared.

Abigail's voice broke the momentary silence, her words ringing out with a playful yet competitive edge. With a teasing pout, she added, "So I win?" Her eyes danced with mischief as she awaited their response, a playful challenge lingering in the air.

"Damn," she continued with mock disappointment, her playful demeanour softening the blow of her words, "didn't even get to kiss Sam yet." Her words were accompanied by a playful grin, her gaze flickering mischievously towards Sam as she awaited his reaction to her playful banter. “Wouldn't want you to feel left out now, would I?” She supplied, batting her eyes at the blonde as it was Sebastian's turn to let out a low whistle.

With a smirk playing on his lips, he leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms casually.

"Well, well," he remarked with a chuckle, his tone filled with playful anticipation. "Looks like things are heating up around here." His eyes flickered with amusement as he observed the dynamic between his friends, a sense of playfulness and affection weaving through their interactions as he watched Alex close the gap between him and Abigail.

Her lips were a revelation, a stark contrast to the chapped familiarity of Sebastian's, yet equally enticing in their softness. They felt delicate, as if any rough movement could shatter their tender embrace. Unlike Sebastian's, they didn't carry the scent of cigarettes but instead tasted of weed and blackberries—a new sensation that intoxicated him in a different way.

As their lips parted briefly, the taste lingered on his tongue, a heady blend of sweetness and earthiness that left him craving more. Abigail's touch was gentle yet commanding, her arms enveloping him in a comforting embrace as she guided him through the kiss with a subtle confidence.

With each desperate kiss, he found himself falling further under her spell, his own desires subservient to her charm. Her tongue danced against his, mirroring the intimacy she had shared with Sebastian just moments before, a testament to the undeniable chemistry between the three of them.

"Holy fuck..." Sam's voice slipped out in a hushed breath, his eyes darting between Sebastian and Abigail. Flush creeping up his cheeks, he couldn't suppress the grin that tugged at the corners of his lips, even as he felt himself shrink slightly in embarrassment at the blunt honesty of his words.

Sebastian and Abigail exchanged amused glances, their expressions reflecting a mixture of amusement and fondness for their friend. Sam's candid admission hung in the air, a testament to the undeniable chemistry that simmered between them.

A chuckle escaped Sam's lips as he shook his head in disbelief. "You guys are so hot," he blurted out, his tone a blend of awe and admiration. Despite his embarrassment, he couldn't resist voicing his appreciation for the magnetic energy that pulsed between his boyfriend and best friend.

In turn they were just teenagers finding themselves and yet at the same time each of them felt like it was just them three in that moment. The simmering smell of weed lingering in the air, smoke lazily dancing up to the ceiling and lazy eyes watching one another, lips tasting one another's kisses and the unstated confirmation of what they wanted to make their relationship as a trio.

Sebastian shifted uneasily, his fingers drumming nervously against his thigh as he hesitated, the weight of unspoken thoughts pressing heavily on his mind. "Um, guys," he began tentatively, his voice betraying his anxiety as he cleared his throat. "I, uh, I've been thinking..."

His words faltered for a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes before he squared his shoulders, determination shining through. "I think," he continued, his voice gaining strength with each word, "we might have stumbled onto something pretty special here."

He paused, swallowing hard as he met their gazes, a flush rising to his cheeks. "I mean, who would've thought that the three of us..." he trailed off, his heart pounding in his chest as he searched for the right words.

"But," he pressed on, his voice steadier now, "I wouldn't trade it for anything. Not for the world."

As the silence stretched between them, Sebastian held his breath, waiting anxiously for their response, hoping against hope that they felt the same way he did.

Abigail's eyes sparkled with warmth and understanding as she met Sebastian's anxious gaze. With a reassuring smile, she reached out to gently squeeze his hand, her touch grounding him in the moment. "Sebastian," she began, her voice soft yet unwavering, "you're right. What we have is special."

Her gaze flickered between Sebastian and Sam, her confidence radiating as she continued, "I never imagined that we'd find ourselves in this situation, but I'm grateful that we did."

Leaning forward, she locked eyes with Sebastian, her sincerity shining through. "And you," she said, her tone filled with conviction, "are a big part of what makes it special."

Her words hung in the air, a silent affirmation of their bond and the depth of her feelings for both Sebastian and Sam.

Sam's cheeks flushed deeper, his gaze darting nervously between Sebastian and Abigail. He fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, struggling to find the right words as he processed the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.

"Uh, yeah," he began, his voice wavering slightly as he cleared his throat. "I mean, I never expected..." He trailed off, his words faltering as he struggled to articulate his thoughts.

Swallowing hard, he mustered the courage to meet their gazes, his expression a mix of awe and vulnerability. "But," he continued, his voice gaining strength, "I'm glad we're... here." He gestured vaguely, his hands trembling slightly as he searched for the right words to convey the depth of his feelings.

"And," he added, his voice growing more confident with each word, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else." His gaze softened as he looked at Sebastian and Abigail, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance shining in his eyes. “You guys are my best friends and uh, y'know I uh-” he cleared his voice. “I'm happy with whatever you guys wanna do.”

Abigail's eyes softened with warmth as she listened to Sam's heartfelt confession. She reached out to gently squeeze his hand, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sam," she said softly, her voice filled with genuine affection, "you mean the world to us too."

Sebastian nodded in agreement, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, Sam," he chimed in, his voice tinged with gratitude, "we're lucky to have you."

Taking a deep breath, Abigail met Sam's gaze with unwavering sincerity. "Whatever happens," she said, her tone gentle yet resolute, "we're in this together. As friends, and maybe even more."

Sebastian nodded, his expression mirroring Abigail's determination. "Exactly," he affirmed, his voice steady. "We'll figure it out, together."

With a shared glance, the trio exchanged a silent vow to navigate the complexities of their evolving relationship with honesty, understanding, and unwavering support as Abigail playfully nudged him with her arm.

Chapter Text

The jukebox nestled in the corner of the dimly lit bar emitted a nostalgic melody, its aged speakers crackling intermittently. The music wafted through the air, weaving around the lively conversations of the village's inhabitants. Amidst this backdrop, Alex found solace in the grip of his glass, its contents a golden amber hue catching the dim light. As he lifted the glass to his lips, the chill of the ice against his fingertips sent a shiver down his spine, a sensation momentarily distracting him from his troubled thoughts.

His knuckles, adorned with bloodied bandages, served as a visible testament to the altercation that had transpired earlier. The bruised swell of his lip hinted at further evidence of his turmoil. Despite the realisation that drowning his sorrows in alcohol was not the most prudent course of action, Alex succumbed to the allure of the saloon, seeking refuge in the numbing embrace of his drink.

With a weary gaze, he surveyed the bustling bar, his vision blurred slightly by the haze of alcohol. Around him, the other villagers congregated in their respective cliques, each lost in their own conversations and concerns. Alex remained a solitary figure amidst the throng, finding temporary respite in the comforting familiarity of the bar's ambiance.

"I forgive you, you know," came a voice, unexpected and gentle, slicing through the jock's reverie. Sam slipped onto the bar stool beside him, his presence marked by a bruised eye, a testament to unseen battles. With a weary gesture, he signalled to Gus, the seasoned barkeep, his request for a drink hanging in the air like a fragile peace offering.

A heavy sigh escaped Sam's lips before he resumed speaking, his words laden with remorse and understanding. "I shouldn't have said that. I know it still cuts deep for you, the memories of your mother." As the bartender deftly slid a glass of the timeless combination of vodka and coke across the bar to Sam, he let out a weary sigh, his fingers curling around the chilled glass. Bringing it to his lips, he took a measured sip, the familiar taste offering a brief moment of comfort amidst the weight of the conversation.

With a scoff, Alex lifted his rum to his lips once more, the golden liquid cascading smoothly down his throat as he regarded the blonde with a sceptical gaze. "Then why say it?" he challenged, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. "I'm beginning to suspect it's intentional," he continued with a resigned sigh, his tone carrying a blend of weariness and exasperation. "You pick fights with me, knowing full well you won't come out on top, yet you keep it up."

Caught off guard by Alex's direct question, Sam's response faltered as he struggled to find the right words. He cleared his throat nervously before finally managing to speak. "I-I didn't mean to... I mean, I didn't think... It's not about winning, Alex," he stammered, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "I-I... I didn't mean... It's not like that," he added on, his gaze momentarily faltering before he rallied, attempting to gather his thoughts. "I just... I don't know, Alex. It's complicated," he finally managed, his tone tinged with uncertainty. His gaze dropped to the swirling liquid in his glass, his discomfort evident in his hesitant demeanour.

"Uh huh, sure, Sam, you don't know," Alex muttered, his frustration evident in the edge of his tone. He nodded toward Sam before shifting his gaze to the pool table, where Abigail and Sebastian were engrossed in their game. Returning his attention to the blonde beside him, he lifted his head inquisitively. "Do they know you're talking to me?" he asked bluntly, catching Sam off guard once more.

Sam sighed heavily before responding, his words weighed down by a mixture of reluctance and sincerity. "They don't... hate you," he admitted, his voice carrying a note of reassurance. "You're not a bad guy, and besides, Abigail likes you, dude. You two seem to get along well, or at least that's what she told me…"

As they continued their exchange, a tension lingered in the air, palpable yet unspoken. Alex's grip tightened around his glass, the condensation slick against his fingers as he leaned back slightly, studying Sam with a guarded expression. Meanwhile, Sam fidgeted under Alex's scrutiny, his gaze darting nervously around the room before settling back on his drink. “I suppose that’s true.”

The jukebox in the corner crackled with age, its melodies weaving through the background chatter of the bar. The occasional clink of glasses and shuffle of feet on the wooden floor added to the ambiance, punctuating the pauses in their conversation.

Despite the underlying tension, there was a strange sense of familiarity between the two men, a shared history that both bound them together and kept them at arm's length. Each word they exchanged was laden with layers of unspoken meaning, their dynamic a complex dance of conflicting emotions and unspoken truths.

Feeling the weight of Alex's disinterest hanging heavily in the air, Sam cleared his throat nervously, a hesitant smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "So, uh, anyone catch your eye lately?" he ventured, his voice betraying a hint of desperation as he grasped for a topic to bridge the growing chasm between them.

He watched Alex's reaction carefully, hoping to catch even a flicker of engagement in his expression. Despite the jock's apparent disinterest, Sam couldn't bring himself to leave just yet. There was something about the quiet tension between them that kept him rooted to his seat, a silent plea for understanding lingering in his gaze.

With a resigned sigh, Alex drained the last remnants of his drink in one swift motion, the glass meeting the bar with a soft clink as he pushed it away. "No," he muttered, weariness evident in his voice. "I'm not really into that... dating stuff. It's not for me," he admitted, his gaze drifting towards Gus in silent gratitude as the bar tender promptly refilled his glass with another round of rum, Alex accepted it with a nod of appreciation, the amber liquid swirling gently within its confines. Bringing the glass to his lips, he took a slow, contemplative sip, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air as he exhaled a heavy sigh.

Caught off guard by Alex's admission, Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his brows furrowing in uncertainty. He searched for the right words, but they eluded him, leaving an awkward silence hanging between them like a heavy curtain.

"Uh, yeah, I get it," Sam finally mumbled, his voice betraying his unease as he struggled to find common ground. He fidgeted with his glass, the ice clinking softly against the sides as he attempted to break the tension with a weak smile. "So, uh, do you, uh, have any other hobbies or... interests?" he ventured, his words stumbling over each other in a clumsy attempt to keep the conversation afloat.

"Are you hitting on me?" he interjected bluntly, his tone laced with scepticism. Alex's eyebrow arched in surprise, a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes as he confronted Sam with a blunt question. The blonde's reaction was immediate, a mixture of incredulity and flustered denial crossing his features as he stumbled over his words in a desperate attempt to clarify his intentions.

"What? No—no, I'm taken," Sam stammered, his voice tinged with a nervous tremor. "I wouldn't—I mean, even if I was, you just said you weren't interested in dating anyway, so... so, yeah," he rambled, his words tumbling out in a jumbled mess as he struggled to regain his composure.
Alex couldn't help but chuckle at Sam's awkwardness, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he raised his glass in a mock toast. "I'm just teasing you, dipshit," he quipped, his tone laced with amusement as he watched Sam's cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Sam let out a nervous laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly at Alex's playful retort. "Oh, right," he mumbled, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "Gotcha," he added, his voice tinged with relief as he took a tentative sip of his drink, grateful for the light-hearted turn the conversation had taken.

As the tension between Alex and Sam momentarily diffused, the distant sounds of laughter and clinking pool balls caught their attention. Turning their heads in unison, they watched as Abigail triumphantly sank the final ball, her victory punctuated by a triumphant cheer. Sebastian, sporting a good-natured grin, conceded defeat with a gracious nod, though a hint of competitive spirit lingered in his expression.

A fond smile tugged at Sam's lips as he observed Abigail's celebratory dance, her jubilant laughter filling the side room. The warmth in his gaze softened the lines of worry that had etched themselves onto his features earlier.

With a sigh, Sam slid off the bar stool, his movements deliberate yet filled with a sense of resignation. Nodding in a brief farewell to Alex, he offered a small, reassuring smile. "My turn to play," he murmured, his voice carrying a hint of anticipation. "I'll... talk to you later, Alex," he added, his tone hopeful as he made his way towards the side room, the sounds of the game of pool fading into the background.

As Alex exhaled a sigh tinged with relief, a sense of tranquillity washed over him, permeating the air with a newfound calmness. He settled back into the familiar embrace of his solitude, the weight of awkward conversation lifted from his shoulders. Sipping his rum with a contented ease, Alex savoured the rich warmth that spread through him with each indulgent gulp. The gentle murmur of the bar enveloped him, a soothing backdrop to his solitary musings.

Before long, the subtle shuffle of chairs drew his attention, heralding the arrival of a familiar figure. Long strands of ginger hair, tousled by the sea breeze, were pulled back into a messy ponytail, strands escaping haphazardly in every direction. The scent of sea salt and cigars wafted towards Alex, wrapping around him like a comforting embrace.

Offering a nod of acknowledgement, Alex greeted the newcomer with a warm smile. "Elliot, good to see you," he remarked, his voice infused with genuine pleasure. "How have you been?" he inquired, genuine curiosity colouring his words as he welcomed the company of an old friend.
"Absolutely splendid, actually!" Elliot's voice brimmed with enthusiasm, his eyes alight with excitement as he leaned in, eager to share his news. "My book's progressing wonderfully, and I've taken your advice to heart—it's going to be a mystery novel. Isn't that marvellous?"

Leaning back against the bar, Elliot gestured towards the bartender, a genial smile gracing his features as he awaited Alex's response. "I'd like to treat us both," he continued, his tone warm and inviting. "What's your drink of choice?"

Upon receiving Alex's preference, Elliot nodded in agreement before signaling to the bartender, ordering two rounds of whiskey with a flourish. As the glasses were placed before them, Elliot lifted his own in a gesture of camaraderie. "To our friendship!" he exclaimed, the words ringing out with sincerity as he toasted to their bond.

Alex's lips curled into a genuine smile at Elliot's infectious enthusiasm, his eyes brightening with genuine interest. "That's fantastic news, Elliot," he replied, his voice tinged with admiration. "I can't wait to read it when it's finished. A mystery novel suits you perfectly."

As the bartender prepared their drinks, Alex leaned comfortably against the bar, his posture relaxed yet attentive. When Elliot raised his glass for a toast, Alex mirrored the gesture, lifting his own whiskey with a nod of appreciation. "To our friendship," he echoed warmly, clinking his glass against Elliot's with a sense of warmth.

Throughout their exchange, Alex's demeanour exuded a sense of ease and genuine connection, a testament to the bond he shared with Elliot. He welcomed the opportunity to catch up with an old friend, savouring the moments of shared laughter and friendship that filled the air between them.

As the soft rumble of thunder echoed faintly over the lively chatter of the bar, Alex's gaze drifted towards the window, a thoughtful expression creasing his brow. Sensing a change in the weather, he sighed softly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. Leaning in slightly, he glanced out the window, where dark clouds loomed ominously in the distance.

"How about you crash at my place tonight?" Alex suggested, turning his attention back to Elliot with a warm smile. Despite the distant thunder, his voice carried an air of reassurance. "I'm sure my folks won't mind," he added, his offer extending from the familiarity of their friendship. Though he lived with his grandparents, his house was closer, and he was more than willing to extend his hospitality to his friend.

Elliot's eyes widened theatrically at the suggestion, his expression mirroring a scene straight out of a melodramatic play. "Ah, my dear Alex, you are a true friend indeed!" he exclaimed, his voice ringing with dramatic flair. With a flourish, he clasped a hand to his chest, as if overcome with emotion.

"Your generosity knows no bounds," Elliot continued, his words dripping with exaggerated gratitude. "To shelter me from the storm's fury under your noble roof... it is a gesture of unparalleled kindness!" he proclaimed, his tone filled with reverence as he gazed at Alex with mock solemnity.

With a dramatic sweep of his hand, Elliot accepted the offer, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I graciously accept your invitation, dear friend," he declared, his voice carrying a theatrical flourish. "Lead the way to sanctuary, for together, we shall weather the tempest upon finishing our drinks!"
…
The night air was heavy with the scent of rain as Alex and Elliot stumbled out of the tavern, their laughter mingling with the distant rumble of thunder. Arms linked for support, they navigated the slick pavement together, the taste of alcohol lingering on their tongues as they shared stories and jokes, their voices carrying through the quiet streets.

Arriving at Alex's house, they fumbled with the keys, their movements clumsy yet filled with camaraderie. Finally gaining entry, Alex led Elliot inside, the warmth of the house enveloping them like a comforting embrace.

Once inside, Alex kicked off his rain-drenched shoes with a nonchalant flourish, his laughter echoing through the hallway. With a casual shrug, he peeled off his soaked shirt, revealing the faint outline of muscles beneath. Ignoring the chill in the air, he rummaged through his dresser, pulling out a warm sweater and a pair of sweatpants for Elliot.

"Here you go," Alex said with a grin, tossing the clothes to Elliot. "Make yourself at home. I'll grab us some blankets." He said, tone light and easy. "Make yourself at home." With that, he disappeared down the hallway, leaving Elliot to change into the dry clothes as he prepared their makeshift beds for the night.

As Elliot changed into the warm clothes provided by Alex, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his friend's hospitality. Pulling on the dry sweater and sweatpants, he sighed contentedly, the warmth seeping into his chilled bones. Eventually emerging from the room, Elliot found Alex returning with a stack of blankets, his arms laden with pillows. With a shared nod of agreement, they set about preparing a makeshift bed on the couch, arranging the blankets and pillows with practised ease.

Once everything was in place, they settled onto the couch, the soft glow of lamplight casting a warm ambiance around them. As they made themselves comfortable beneath the blankets, Alex reached for the TV remote, flicking through channels until he found a late-night comedy show.

The sound of laughter filled the room as they watched the show together, their earlier worries and tensions melting away in the comfort of each other's company. Wrapped in blankets and surrounded by warmth, they drifted off to sleep, the sound of rain tapping gently against the windows lulling them into a peaceful slumber.
…
Alex couldn’t sleep.

Elliot had left early that morning, leaving him alone whilst his grandparents we’re still resting.
As the first light of dawn gently kissed the horizon, Alex found himself navigating the quiet streets, his breath forming wisps of vapour in the crisp morning air. The world seemed to slumber around him, wrapped in a serene stillness broken only by the occasional chirp of awakening birds. His footsteps echoed softly against the pavement as he made his way to the train platform, the rhythmic clack of his shoes a soothing accompaniment to the tranquillity of the morning. Abigail's message had roused him from his rest, the anticipation of their adventure stirring a sense of excitement within him.

Approaching the platform, Alex spotted Abigail waiting for him, her vibrant purple hair standing out against the muted hues of the early morning. She was bundled up in Sam's jacket, the fabric engulfing her slender frame, while beneath it peeked the familiar sight of one of Sebastian's band shirts. Her hands were adorned with gloves, a telltale sign of the chill in the air, as she eagerly waved him over.

"Alex! Hey!" she greeted him with infectious enthusiasm, her voice ringing out like a beacon in the quiet morning. "Morning! Ready for an adventure?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she awaited his response.
Despite the fatigue that clung to him after a mere two hours of rest, Alex offered a muted smile in response to Abigail's infectious enthusiasm, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Nevertheless, he nodded in agreement as she launched into the familiar routine of going over their plan.

It was a ritual they had performed countless times before, yet each excursion carried with it a sense of anticipation that never failed to stir Alex's spirit. Train hopping—the exhilarating adventure of sneaking onto one of the cargo trains that rumbled through the village every morning and afternoon—had become their shared passion.

Their destination: from the quaint familiarity of Pelican Town to the bustling metropolis of Zuzu City and back again. The journey promised a day filled with excitement, the rhythmic clatter of the train wheels a symphony of anticipation as they embarked on yet another adventure together.

"Alex, come on, are you even listening to me?" Abigail's voice cut through the haze of Alex's drowsiness, her excitement palpable as she urged him into action. The loud whistle of the train horn echoed in the distance, snapping Alex out of his sleepy stupor. With a determined nod, he shook off the remnants of sleep, his mind racing to catch up with the urgency of the moment.

As the train approached the station, Abigail's grin widened, her anticipation reaching a fever pitch. Without hesitation, she pointed to an open cargo section, her eyes alight with exhilaration. With a confident leap, she launched herself onto the moving train, her nimble movements a testament to her agility. Stretching out her hand, she beckoned for Alex to join her. “Come on!”

With a mixture of determination and adrenaline, Alex seized Abigail's outstretched hand, his muscles straining as he hoisted himself onto the platform of the moving train. A surge of relief washed over him as he collapsed onto his stomach, the hard metal floor cool against his skin. Rolling over, he positioned himself by the open door, his legs dangling out into the rushing wind as he joined Abigail in their makeshift perch.

With a deep exhale, Alex surrendered himself to the gentle sway of the train, the rhythmic motion soothing his senses. Each click-clack of the tracks beneath them seemed to synchronize with the beating of his heart, drawing him deeper into a tranquil state.

As the landscape outside blurred into streaks of colour, a surge of exhilaration pulsed through Alex's veins, igniting a spark of excitement within him. "Wow," he exclaimed, his words punctuated by short gasps of breath, "this train feels like it's moving faster than usual."

The wind whipped past them, catching Alex's breath and carrying it away into the rushing air. Seated together at the open door, he and Abigail watched in awe as the familiar sights of the village gradually faded from view, replaced by the sprawling expanse of the countryside stretching out before them. As the train whisked them away into the countryside, Abigail's expression softened into one of tranquil awe, her features bathed in the warm glow of the morning sun. Despite the familiarity of their adventure, the breathtaking beauty of the passing landscape never failed to captivate her.

With a contented sigh, Abigail leaned back against the side of the train car, her body relaxed yet vibrating with the residual thrill of their daring escapade. “I know, it’s amazing isn’t it?” Her gaze lingered on the ever-changing scenery, each passing moment a new revelation of nature's splendour.

Although they had embarked on this journey countless times before, Abigail's spirit remained buoyant, her heart racing with the same sense of excitement and wonder as if it were their very first time. Beside her, Alex's breathless words echoed in the air, a reminder of the exhilaration that coursed through their veins, binding them together in shared adventure.
"So, Alex," Abigail began, her voice carrying a playful lilt as she tore her gaze away from the passing scenery to focus on her companion. "Any grand plans for our day in Zuzu City?"

Alex chuckled softly, the rumble of the train beneath them punctuating their conversation. "Hmm, well, maybe we could check out that new arcade I heard about," he suggested, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Or we could grab some of those famous Zuzu City tacos you're always raving about."

Abigail's eyes lit up at the mention of tacos, her stomach rumbling in anticipation. "Ooh, tacos sound amazing," she exclaimed, her grin widening. "And the arcade? Count me in!"

As they bounced ideas off each other, their laughter mingled with the rhythmic sounds of the train, creating a symphony of camaraderie that echoed through the open countryside. With each passing mile, their excitement for the day ahead only grew, fuelled by the promise of adventure and the bond of their enduring friendship.
With a soft smile playing on her lips, Abigail turned towards Alex once more after a while, her eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and contentment. "Isn't it amazing, Alex?" she remarked, her voice filled with wonder as she gestured to the sweeping vista before them. "No matter how many times we do this, it never gets old."

Alex nodded in agreement, his gaze fixed on the passing scenery. "Yeah, it's something else," he replied, his voice tinged with admiration. "I guess there's just something about the freedom of it all, you know?"

As the train rumbled onward, the two friends fell into an easy rhythm of conversation, their words weaving seamlessly through the air like threads in a tapestry. With each passing mile, their bond grew stronger, forged in the shared thrill of adventure.
The thrill of sneaking off the train seemed to ignite a fire within Abigail, her eyes gleaming with excitement as they reached the cargo stop just before Zuzu City. With a deft agility honed through years of practice, she clambered out of the carriage, her movements fluid and purposeful. Alex followed closely behind, his senses heightened as they navigated the shadows, each step infused with a sense of exhilaration and danger.

As they slipped away unnoticed by the workers busy restocking the train, Abigail couldn't help but feel a surge of nostalgia wash over her. Memories of their childhood games flooded her mind, of playing spies and embarking on daring escapades through the village. The rush of adrenaline, the thrill of secrecy—it was all there, just as it had been when they were kids.

Abigail cherished these moments, the palpable tension in the air, the nervous energy that flickered across Alex's face whenever he was on edge. To her, he was more than just a friend—he was like a younger brother, a plucky companion she dragged along on her adventures, their bond forged through shared mischief and daring exploits.

As they ventured onto the main road, the bustling sounds of the city slowly enveloped them, offering a stark contrast to the quietude of the countryside. With each step, Alex felt the tension gradually ebb away, replaced by a sense of relief that mingled with lingering apprehension.

Finally allowing himself to breathe a sigh of relief, Alex couldn't suppress the playful admonishment that bubbled up within him. "You're going to get us killed one day, you know," he blurted out, his words laced with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

Abigail glanced over at him, her eyes sparkling with mischief, before erupting into peals of laughter. With a playful roll of her eyes, she nudged him gently, their shoulders brushing against each other as they walked side by side. "Well, at least we'll have a story to tell," she quipped, her voice tinged with a hint of mischief as they continued on their journey, their laughter echoing through the bustling streets of the city.

"Come on, might as well stock up on some stuff while I think of it," Abigail suggested, her voice filled with an air of spontaneity. "I'm gonna grab Sebastian some cigarettes. You wanna grab anything?"
With a casual shrug, Alex contemplated her offer. "I mean, wouldn't hurt to look," he replied, his curiosity piqued. Allowing Abigail to take the lead, he followed her into the nearest smoke shop like a lost puppy, the welcoming chime of the bell signalling their entrance.

As they stepped inside, Alex was greeted by a medley of unidentifiable scents that filled the air, a mixture of tobacco and incense. The shop was a kaleidoscope of colours and textures, with shelves lined with an array of smoking paraphernalia. Abigail, seemingly in her element, greeted the shop worker with familiarity, engaging in lively conversation as if they were old friends. Meanwhile, Alex wandered around the shop, his eyes wandering over the eclectic assortment of items on display, each one offering a glimpse into a world he had never before explored. With a sense of wonder, he immersed himself in the unfamiliar surroundings, eager to discover what treasures lay hidden within the shop's walls.

Amidst the eclectic array of items lining the shelves, Alex's gaze wandered, his curiosity piqued by the assortment of goods on display. He found himself drawn to a display of colourful lighters, each adorned with intricate designs and patterns. Picking one up, he examined it with interest, turning it over in his hands to inspect the craftsmanship.

Next, his attention was caught by a display of artisanal tobacco pipes, their polished wood and gleaming metal accents gleaming in the soft light of the shop. Running his fingers along the smooth curves of one pipe, he admired its elegant design, momentarily lost in contemplation. Willy would love one of these for his birthday, his brain supplied as he silently made a note to come back for one later on in the year.

As he wandered further into the shop, Alex's eyes fell upon a selection of exotic incense sticks, their vibrant packaging catching his eye. Intrigued, he leaned in closer to inspect the labels, the rich scents wafting up to greet him with each passing moment. He was familiar with these at least, Emily and Haley’s house stunk of the stuff and honestly he could barely stand entering their house most of the time due to how much it overwhelmed him.

Lost in the sensory experience of the shop, Alex found himself exploring every nook and cranny, each item sparking his curiosity and igniting his imagination just like a child in a sweet shop. With Abigail chatting happily nearby, he allowed himself to become immersed in the eclectic charm of the smoke shop, content to simply wander and explore.

As Alex stepped further into the smoke shop, he found himself enveloped in a sensory overload. The walls were adorned with vibrant tapestries, their kaleidoscopic patterns seeming to dance before his eyes. Exotic scents mingled in the air, a heady blend of incense and aromatic tobacco that filled his senses with each breath. The psychedelic-like music that softly played in the background seemed to have a hypnotic effect, lulling his mind into a state of calm.

His gaze wandered over the eclectic array of colourful bongs and ashtrays on display, each item a testament to the shop's eclectic charm. The vibrant hues and intricate designs captivated him, drawing him further into the shop's enchanting atmosphere.

As he perused the selection, Alex's thoughts turned practical. He could use a new ashtray, he mused, his eyes scanning the various options available. Though he didn't own a bong himself, he couldn't help but admire their artistic designs. Despite the allure of the bongs, Alex was content with his trusty rolling papers. There was something meditative about the process of rolling his own smokes, a ritual that allowed him to take his time and find solace in the simple act of creation. It was a familiar comfort, a moment of tranquillity in an otherwise hectic world.

Alex found solace in the act of smoking alone, finding comfort in the quiet moments of reflection that it afforded him. With a sense of familiarity, he reached for an ashtray, his fingers tracing the intricate design as he evaluated its form and function. Nearby, packs of lighters and cigarettes beckoned to him, and he added them to his growing pile with a sense of practicality.

As Abigail's words echoed in his mind, urging him to stock up, Alex obeyed, selecting a few extra packs of cigarettes. With his purchases in hand, he shuffled quietly beside Abigail, content to let her take the lead in their interactions with the shopkeeper.

Abigail flashed the shop worker a friendly grin, effortlessly slipping into the role of spokesperson. "Just these, please, and my usual," she supplied, her voice carrying a note of familiarity as she gestured towards Alex's selections. The shop worker nodded curtly, their expression unreadable as they gathered the items and retreated into the backroom, disappearing behind the beaded curtain. Left alone once more, Alex exhaled a quiet sigh, grateful for the brief respite from conversation as he waited patiently for their return.

As they waited for the shop worker to return, Abigail turned to Alex with a warm smile, her eyes filled with understanding. "What's up? You in a non-talky mood again?" she asked casually, her tone gentle and accepting.

Alex simply nodded in response, a silent acknowledgment of his current state. He knew Abigail would understand; she always did. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk—sometimes, he just couldn't. It was as if his mouth wanted to form words, but his brain was holding them back, trapped in a frustrating limbo of silence. He searched for the right words to explain, but they remained stubbornly out of reach.
Abigail's patience shone through her warm smile as she reassured Alex. "That's okay! I'll do the talking for us. You got everything you need?" Her voice carried a comforting tone as she glanced at him, her eyes full of understanding.

Alex nodded in response, a sense of gratitude washing over him as he met Abigail's patient gaze. Despite his inability to vocalize his thoughts, he felt a sense of reassurance in her presence. With a weak smile, he confirmed that he had everything he needed, silently thankful for her support.

As the shopkeeper returned and began ringing up their purchases, Alex reached for his wallet to pay. However, Abigail waved him off with a small smile. "I'll pay," she insisted, her gesture a silent affirmation of their friendship and understanding. Alex felt a swell of gratitude towards her, his appreciation evident in the soft smile that graced his lips.

As they exited the shop, Alex was immediately struck by the cacophony of noise that surrounded them in the bustling city. The sudden assault of honking horns, chatter from passers-bys, and the din of street vendors made him flinch slightly, his senses overwhelmed by the sudden shift in environment. Seeking comfort, he instinctively stayed close to Abigail, finding solace in her familiar presence.

Despite the noticeable height difference between them, with Alex towering over Abigail, they walked together seamlessly, their connection strong. Though some might have found it odd to see such a tall figure practically attached to her side, Abigail paid it no mind, her focus solely on her friend's well-being.

"Are you hungry?" she asked, her voice cutting through the chaos of the city with a sense of calm. "We could sit in a café for a while until rush hour is over." Her suggestion offered a reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the streets, a chance for them to find respite in the familiar warmth of a cosy café.
Alex nodded gratefully at Abigail's suggestion, relieved at the prospect of escaping the sensory overload of the bustling city streets. As she led the way into a nearby café, he followed closely behind, his steps lighter with each passing moment.

Entering the cozy interior of the café, Alex's senses were immediately greeted by the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the inviting ambiance and the array of tables scattered throughout. Abigail gestured for him to choose a table, her smile warm and encouraging.
With a nod of appreciation, Alex scanned the room before settling on a table near the window, the soft glow of sunlight streaming in through the glass. It offered a perfect vantage point for people-watching, and Alex found himself drawn to the calming scene outside without all the noise. As Alex settled into his seat, a wave of relaxation washed over him, a stark contrast to the chaotic energy of the city streets outside. With Abigail's reassuring presence beside him, he felt a sense of calm settle deep within his bones, grateful for the sanctuary of the café's cosy interior.

Abigail's gentle voice broke through the peaceful atmosphere, her words carrying a comforting warmth. "Alright, you pick what you'd like, and then I'll go order, yeah?" she offered, her tone light and easygoing.

Alex nodded in agreement, his gaze wandering over the menu as he considered his options. The scent of freshly brewed coffee and the enticing aroma of pastries filled the air, adding to the ambiance of the café. Despite the myriad choices before him, Alex took his time, savouring the moment of quiet contemplation.

Glancing up at Abigail, a soft smile graced his lips, a silent expression of gratitude for her unwavering support once he had decided. In that moment, surrounded by the gentle hum of conversation and the cosy embrace of the café, Alex felt a profound sense of contentment wash over him, grateful for the simple pleasure of sharing a quiet moment with a dear friend.
“Ready?” He nodded in confirmation. He was ready.