Work Text:
Daniel settled rapidly into his and Sean’s interim home in Away.
Becoming acquainted with his mother and the kind of person she is was daunting. But if Sean could put his faith in her, then so could he. Especially after Haven Point. With Karen back in the picture, the image of a tightly woven family emerged. Daniel was more than okay with it, even if Lisbeth’s decrees reverberated in the back of his mind.
Roughly a week had passed since, with Daniel’s bowlcut still looking fresh. Much to Daniel’s dismay, Sean ruffled his hair with a laugh at the observation. Along with his hair, though, the trio’s bond grew. Pancakes every morning, game nights as a family instead of just the two brothers (no offence, Sean), and the intimate domesticity of it all— having a mom is awesome. They’d been sleeping in Karen’s bed, while she took the sofa against their insistence.
── .✦
On this restful night, Daniel went to bed on his own. Karen sweetly embraced Daniel good night, and tucked him under the covers. For the first time in months, Daniel truly felt like a kid again. Sean wasn’t quite ready for bed yet, though, and neither was Karen. But the events at Haven Point left Daniel too pooped to worry so hard, and he knew they would be there in the morning.
Daniel’s eyes flutter shut, but sleep evades him. Instead, the stench of smoke found its way to his nose. He immediately blinks awake to spot the source of the miasma: a window next to their bed, ajar. He lifts a small hand to channel his power, but stops when two familiar voices speak in hushed whispers. Carefully, Daniel wraps himself in the blanket and kneels by the window.
Their faces are dimly lit by candlelight. Daniel discerns the furrow of Karen’s brows, the downward curl of her lips. Worry has sagged her cheeks and sunken her eyes, and he follows her perturbed gaze to find Sean. Daniel vaguely makes out Karen cupping Sean’s face, the way her thumb traces the edge of Sean’s singular black eye as if handling glass.
“--happened?” Karen’s hushed tone is subdued with concern.
Sean doesn’t make an effort to pull away, but scoffs. “You know what happened. In the church.”
Karen sighs through her nose, “No… Before that. I’m certain that walking for miles doesn’t make your whole body black and blue.”
“How did you–”
“At the motel. You always had a habit of pulling your shirt up in your sleep,” she reminisces with a small smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.
Daniel is leaning fully against the window now, eyes just above the ledge as he feels the need to keep hidden. His brow twitches with curiosity. Walking for miles? Bruises on Sean’s body? It must’ve been how he came to Haven Point. As for the bruises…
Silence pervades between the two until Karen breaks it again.
“Sean, I understand if you don’t want to tell me, but… I’m here for you, now,” she reassures, every word laced with solace. Her hand falls to grasp Sean’s hand on the table.
Daniel’s heart clenches at the weight of her words and the weight of whatever Sean endured. With bated breath, he keeps watching.
“It was on the way to Haven Point,” he finally croaks, clenching his fist and face contorting as if he’s in physical pain.
An uncomfortable shiver tingles through Daniel’s spine. He had never seen this expression on his older brother’s face, and he did not like it at all.
“I hotwired a car when I escaped the hospital, Dad taught me… I was almost at Haven Point, but I pulled over and fell asleep. First fucking mistake. When I woke up, these two assholes, they– they made me get out and–” Sean chokes on a sob, but continues bitterly, staring into the candle flame. “I had no choice but to listen. They ransacked the car, fucking threw all my shit and– and Daniel’s. And I broke his toys trying to get them back. Fuck.”
Daniel freezes. His stomach churns as if he’d just swallowed hot coals. With a gulp, Daniel clutches the blanket tighter around himself, his gaze never leaving Sean, who breaks down in a fit of sobs, burying his face in his hands. Karen never lets go. Only grounding him with her soft hand upon his, while Sean recounts.
A groan tears itself from Sean’s throat, “Racist dickheads.”
He is heaving, hands trembling as he instinctively curls into himself. Etched on Sean’s face is a resentful grimace, grieving the memory he can’t run from. Karen can only watch Sean experience the echoes of that mortifying night on the highway.
Karen soothes him, fingers tracing invisible shapes along his arm.
Once his breathing just about evens, Sean goes on, voice raw, “Tried to make me sing for them.”
Karen gasps, soft but there.
“I didn’t.” Sean declares swiftly. In his anguished cries, there is still pride. “Just– just swore at them. Of fucking course they could tell. Pissed them off so bad. They threw me on the ground like a rag doll. I– I got so fucking scared.”
By the window, Daniel inhales sharply. Hot tears prick the corners of his eyes. The mere image of what that night could’ve looked like plagues Daniel’s mind: a wrinkly white man looming over Sean like a hunter about to feast. Sean getting tossed around, demoralised with petty, stereotypical names. While Daniel was being well-fed and cared for, his brother was out there suffering. To find him.
“It was so fucking humiliating.”
Daniel’s pulse is thundering in his ears now, rage surging through him. The blanket that engulfs him begins to float at the edges, but Daniel’s vehemence abruptly ceases when Karen speaks.
“Oh, Sean…”
Utter sorrow overflows from her voice and reaches both Sean and Daniel like a tender caress. That saccharine, empathetic timbre melts away Sean’s final defence as she pulls him into her arms. And there, Sean weeps.
His perturbation evanesces through uneven breaths, each one steadier than the last. He clutches onto Karen as if she might leave again. In the caravan, Daniel breathes through gritted teeth, hiccuping mutely as tears leave a searing trail down his cheeks.
The pair outside bask in the stillness, bordering on serenity. Once Sean grounds himself in Karen’s arms, he finds his voice. Small, but there.
“Thank you… Thank you for helping me get Daniel back.”
The delicate avowal hangs in the desert air, all of Sean’s consternation and absolute gratefulness to Karen laid bare before the stars. Laid bare before Daniel, whose racing heart aches when it hardly fathoms the sentiment in Sean’s words.
An overwhelming surge of penitence washes over Daniel in waves, his guts twisting in what he can only describe as guilt. He should’ve been there, protecting him, instead of indulging Lisbeth in her whims. But he wasn’t.
Daniel wilts under the blanket, no longer eavesdropping. His mind is running, palms sweaty, and all he can think is I should have been there.
The next hour is a blur between Daniel’s teary eyes and the newfound awareness of what Sean had been through. With quiet sniffles, Daniel lies back against the pillow, facing the smooth caravan wall. He lets his eyes flutter shut, feigning sleep. It feels like eternity until Daniel dimly registers the hushed rustling around the caravan of Sean and Karen as they turn in for the night. Finally, the bed dips beside him.
The minutes pass like hours until Daniel deems Sean fast asleep. He rolls over to his other side, barely catching sight of his brother’s face in the dark. Sean is facing him too, his eye closed and breathing evenly. He isn’t grimacing or scowling as he so often does, but is simply… relaxed. He looks… younger.
“Sean…” Daniel whispers, his hand moving to rest in the space between them. Itching to reach out. “I’m… I’m so sorry…”
Sean’s mouth twitches, and for a moment, Daniel thinks he’s imagining it. Until he hears the familiar sigh and notices Sean’s eye blinking open.
Before Daniel can say something, Sean is murmuring back, “I know, enano, it’s okay.”
Daniel’s breath catches in his throat. When Sean puts his own larger hand over Daniel’s, squeezing gently, tears flood his eyes.
“I knew you were awake.” Daniel can hear a faint smirk in Sean’s voice.
Despite the tears threatening to spill again, Daniel mirrors Sean’s small smile. “Shut up…!”
With a shaky exhale, Daniel silently shuffles closer, curling up with his head against Sean’s chest. His arms wrap around Sean’s torso, clutching tight. But he feels Sean jolt at the hug, wincing an oomf!
Daniel gasps and immediately lets go, “S-sorry..! I’m sorry, I–”
He puts space between them even though it’s the last thing he wants right now. But Sean is throwing his arm over Daniel before he can process the ache in his chest.
“It’s seriously fine, dude,” Sean reassures, pulling him back in. “It just hurts a bit. I can take it.”
“But… you got hurt so much because of me,” Daniel’s small voice breaks. “I don’t–”
“And I’d go through it all over again to find you, enano,” Sean cuts him off firmly.
Daniel bites back a sob, only putting his arm over Sean’s carefully.
Sean presses his forehead to Daniel’s, “Seriamente. Te quiero, Daniel.”
The earnestness in Sean’s tone grounds Daniel, who’s trying to steady his quivering breaths.
“M-me too,” he sniffles. “A lot.”
Daniel feels Sean press his lips briefly against the top of his head. The pit in his stomach dissipates, his heart overflowing with something much more tender.
Sean sighs, smiling, “I know. We’re together now. That’s all that matters now, okay?”
“...okay.”
The warmth of their embrace lulls Daniel into a peaceful sleep. And tomorrow, they’ll wake up together again.