Archive of Our Own

No. No. No no nonono—

“Bjorn!”

Lennart didn’t even recognize his own voice as he rushed past the firemen outside his door. He’d left him alone, asleep in his room. He thought he’d be safe.

He coughed as smoke filled his lungs. He yanked at his scarf, wrapping it around his nose and mouth to keep him from breathing in the fumes.

It was hard to see anything through the flames, but that didn’t stop him from rushing through the house. He knew this place like the back of his hand. A few fallen beams wouldn’t stop him.

Lennart shouldered open the door to Bjorn’s room. It was mostly unharmed by the fire thus far—though clearly not for long with the rate it was growing—but there was no sign of his little brother. He grabbed what he could fit in his pockets and dashed back out.

In the next room and the room after that, there was nothing. But finally, in the kitchen, on the pristine, untouched marble counter, was the tracking tag he’d given Bjorn. He snatched it up, staring at it mutely as the fire grew larger still.

His knees felt weak. His breathing was shallow. The sweat running down his back felt cold. All of these things could be explained by the flames raging around him, but he knew that wasn’t the cause.

Wind swirled around him, the heated atmosphere dwindling until it was swept into the torrent of his emotions.

Bjorn was gone. And he had no way to find him.

———

“Um, sir..?” Lennart’s secretary peeked her head through the cracked door of his office, her eyebrows scrunched together.

“What is it?”

“Mr. Andre is here to see you.”

Lennart screwed his eyes shut for a brief moment, his hand stilled where it was reaching for another report. “Tell him I’m busy. He can come back later.”

“Well.. He said he’d wait here all day and night if he had to. I think you should at least hear him out.”

Glancing up, he finally saw the expression on her face. She was worried about him. With a huff, he relented. “Fine. Bring him up.”

It was hardly a minute later when Lennart felt Thomas’s presence growing closer. His secretary must’ve ran all the way down the stairs just to fetch him.

A light knock sounded at the door. Really, it was unnecessary and egregiously inefficient, given how easy it was for them to sense each other at this range. If they wanted to, they could probably communicate through their mana signals alone.

“Come in.”

Lennart didn’t look up as Thomas strolled in. He could already guess what he was going to say.

“How are you feeling?”

Or maybe not. He skimmed over another document—more useless information on the damage done to the house and the insurance claim he would have to put through.

“I’m fine. I can handle a little smoke,” he answered automatically. He had said the same thing to his secretary and his vice guildmaster when they’d come to check on him as well.

“Alright, let’s just skip all the back and forth we both know is gonna happen and you just tell me the truth.” Thomas crossed his arms, eyeing him reproachfully.

“I already did, Mr. Andre. And I don’t exactly owe you an elaboration on my answer.”

“‘Mr. Andre’?” Thomas asked, his eyebrows raised above his signature sunglasses.

Lennart sighed softly. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore. I can’t be getting distracted like this, not when I have so many responsibilities to see to—”

“You’re breaking up with me because you’re busy? Are you fucking kidding me?” Despite his tone, Lennart could see the hurt in his eyes, a reflection of what he felt in his chest.

This was for the best. If something happened to Bjorn, he would never forgive himself. Even worse, wouldn’t forgive Thomas. He knew, logically, that Thomas wasn’t at fault here—knew it was him that caused this—but it was his relationship with Thomas that had kept him from taking care of Bjorn.

A warmth seized his forearms—those rough hands he had grown to take such comfort in—shaking him gently until he looked into Thomas’s eyes. His own widened as he saw the tears forming there.

“I don’t care if you don’t have time for me. I can wait. I can be patient when it matters. So if that’s really the reason, I won’t accept it.”

Lennart’s jaw set tight. “I refuse to be in a one-sided relationship like that. No matter what happens, one of us will end up hurt. For both our sakes, it’s best if we just end things here.”

“Oh, and breaking up with me now won’t hurt just as much?” Thomas practically yelled, indignant.

“In the long run—”

“That’s bullshit! If there’s even a chance, I can hold onto it. You know how stubborn I am.”

“There isn’t a chance. This is the decision that I have made. Accept it and move on.” Lennart’s heart clenched, as if mimicking what his hands wished they could do instead of pushing him away.

Thomas stared at him for a long time, his jaw clenched so hard Lennart thought a tooth might crack.

“Do you think I don’t know what you’re doing? You just don’t want to get hurt. You’re afraid.”

They both knew that was true. But if Lennart were to concede here, the pain he had already caused the both of them would be for naught. “…I think it’s time for you to leave, Mr. Andre.”

“No! I’m not leaving you here to wallow in your own misery. I—”

Don’t say it.

“I care about you, alright? And so does everyone else out there.” He jerks his thumb behind him, to the door. “None of us what to see you like this.”

“Like what?” Lennart demanded, grateful for something else to focus on, a different emotion to abate his tears with.

“You’re tense. You’re angry with yourself, and you keep projecting that anger everyone else. None of them are the ones that took your brother; none of them want to do anything but help you find him, and that includes me.”

“You’ve never even met my brother,” he practically snarled.

Thomas was unperturbed. “Maybe not, but I can tell you care about him, and that’s enough for me.”

“You’re a fool, Thomas Andre,” he said, his head low.

In return, the fool muttered, “For you, maybe.”

“…Get out of my office.”

“Wha—? Hey now, I was just joking—”

“I said get out! I don’t want to hear it!”

Thomas quieted. “Lennart, this isn’t your fault. The only ones to blame are the ones that took him.”

“No, I was the one who decided to go gallivanting around with you instead of protecting my brother! You don’t get to tell me this isn’t my fault!” Lennart shouted, gesturing wildly in some vague attempt to articulate his sorrow.

“Blaming yourself won’t help anything, and it sure as hell won’t bring him back!” Thomas countered.

“I know that! But this— this..!” He pointed furiously at his chest. “Is what drives me. This is all I know, Thomas. This is the only way I know how to keep going.”

He knew the vulnerability he was showing was counterintuitive, would be working against him in trying to keep Thomas away, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to be honest with him.

“That’s not— You can’t just let your guilt fuel you! You’ll tear yourself apart before you ever give him the kind of life you want to.”

More than anything, he craved the connection of baring his sins to the person he loved and allowing them to forgive him… but he didn’t deserve such a luxury. He never did, no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise.

“I don’t care! If that’s what it takes, then so be it!”

Thomas froze, his face falling. “Lennart, I..”

Don’t—

“I love you, alright? You make me stupid with how much I love you. I hate seeing you like this.”

“Well, you’re gonna be seeing a lot more of it if you stick around, so you might as well quit while you’re ahead,” Lennart spat.

“I don’t want to. I can take a little pain for your sake. Why can’t you just let me help you..?”

“…You can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

Thomas’s hands trembled as he regarded him. “Then I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you’re ready. When you’ve finally realized you can’t do this alone, I’ll be there waiting. So just don’t forget about me, alright?”

Lennart didn’t know what to say. All his words were caught in his throat, and all he could do was watch helplessly as the man he loved walked out the door, closing it behind him with uncharacteristic softness.

———

In the long decade he has worked as a Hunter, Lennart very rarely took vacation. And even then, it was normally still business as usual. Once a year, for the past several years, he went to the International Guild Conference and got to spend a few days visiting another country. But, of course, he still made sure to take time off for days like Bjorn’s birthday and any holiday they wanted to spend together.

Despite his lack of vacation days, Lennart liked to think he had an acceptable work-life balance.

Unless there was something that needed his immediate attention—like a new gate spawning nearby—he usually left at the same time everyday. By doing so, he made sure he had time to make himself and Bjorn dinner so that they could spend time together, even if it was only while they were eating.

For the past ten years, his entire life had revolved entirely around Bjorn and his work as a Hunter. That was his motivation. His purpose.

And now, half of that purpose was gone. Vanished into the thin, smoky air of his devastated home. And how could he even think to go on raids when any moment he was away, new information might come to light that he would miss?

So, he stayed at the office. He couldn’t bear the idea of going home to an empty house, either. A house that would be devoid of all the personality he and Bjorn had imbued in it, now that countless possessions had been destroyed in the fire.

It had been rebuilt quickly, thanks to his insurance—one of the few things he learned from his father that was actually helpful—and the burst of power he had accidentally let out that had doused the fire.

But most of their furniture had been destroyed, the replacements probably waiting in boxes in the barren living room. The photos of him and Bjorn and his guildmembers on the wall, gone. Decorations and trinkets and everything that had made the space theirs, all gone.

And worst of all, Bjorn was gone. Normally, he was eager to get home, no matter how his vice guildmaster teased him when work kept him late. But there was nothing for him to look forward to at home anymore; he might as well have had no home at all.

———

Lennart fumbled with his keys, cursing as his house key refused to find its slot. At last, he shoved the door open, stumbling inside and flicking the light switch—that was already on?

It was only then that he noticed the savory smell wafting from the kitchen, along with the faint sound of grease popping. He closed the door softly behind him, using the tiniest bit of mana to keep his footsteps light. Both the sound and smell grew stronger as he crept closer.

He rounded the corner, greeted with the strangely domestic sight of Thomas Andre, frying chicken at his stove. His hair was a bit more wild than normal despite being pulled back, and those sunglasses he always wore—even indoors—were missing. Over one of his usual tacky Hawaiian shirts was one of Lennart’s aprons, though the back was left untied—probably because it didn’t fit him, if Lennart were to hazard a guess why. His focus was entirely on the chicken in his pan, watching it more attentively than he’d ever seen the man at the International Guild Conference.

Then Lennart’s stomach growled, and the two of them froze, a silent stare off initiated.

Thomas opened his mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again. “You look like shit.”

Lennart huffed softly. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence.

“Are you—”

“We should—”

The silence resumed. How else were they supposed to react around each other, when they hadn’t spoken in almost a week after the argument in his office?

Thomas flipped the chicken, the sound of grease popping growing more intense. “You hungry?”

“…Yeah.”

He didn’t care about the food. He was grateful, yes, but all he wanted was to curl up in those strong arms and stay there forever. His stomach groaned again, as if in protest of his traitorous thoughts.

“Cool. Uhh, dinner should be in, maybe.. five minutes.”

“Okay.”

Thomas turned back to the stove, but Lennart’s feet remained rooted in place. He felt like a stranger in his own home, after so long at the office. Had Thomas really been living here the whole time, waiting for him to come home?

Wait…

He glanced around. There were boxes by the door, furniture in his living room, decorations on the walls. Thomas had put everything back—almost—the way it was before. He had only been in his house once before the fire, yet somehow, he took the time and care to make sure everything was as accurate at possible.

“…How did you get in my house?” Lennart watched Thomas through the corner of his eye.

But the hulking man only laughed, though Lennart failed to see what was funny. “I used to be the King of Detroit, remember? You don’t build a gang large enough to own a whole city without learning how to pick a few locks.”

“So you did break in,” he said with a sigh. “How long have you been here?”

“Mm, couple of days. Not too long. I thought you’d have come home by then, but I figured I meant as well clean up the place since you didn’t.”

The place was mysteriously clean, like someone had meticulously scrubbed every surface—something the construction crew probably wouldn’t have cared to do. It even smelled clean, beneath the sizzling scent of chicken.

In fact, it smelled like the cleaning products he actually liked. The ones that gave the place a fresh smell instead of a clinical scent that assaulted the nostrils. The ones he usually kept stocked that had probably been discarded as waste after the fire.

“I didn’t take you for someone who cleaned.” Especially not someone who takes the time to actually find something good.

“Pfft. Do I look like some kind of slob?”

Lennart kept pointedly quiet, letting his silence speak for him.

“…Okay, maybe I do. Just a little bit.”

Lennart raised one eyebrow, his face a mask of sternness despite the warmth spreading throughout his body. It was relaxing, getting to joke around with his beloved without worrying, even if only for a moment.

Thomas huffed. “More than a little bit.”

That brought a smile to Lennart’s face. After a breath of hesitation, he said, “…Thank you for doing all this. It was.. very nice of you.”

Thomas glanced over at him, taking the chicken off the heat. “You don’t have to be so formal, you know. Not with me.”

“Thomas—”

“No— Don’t. Whatever you have to say about that, it can wait until after we eat.” He pointed his tongs at him for emphasis.

“…Right. Sorry.”

Thomas opened his mouth, his brows scrunched together. Then he sighed and shook his head.

Lennart yearned to hear whatever it was he had to say, even—especially—if it was to berate him. He was no masochist, but he knew he deserved to be yelled at after the cruelty he’d subjected Thomas to. He couldn’t stand the thought of Thomas burying any anger he had for him, when he was here cleaning his house and cooking him food.

But even worse, he couldn’t stand the thought that Thomas wasn’t angry with him. That kind of consideration wasn’t something he should be allowed after everything that happened. He didn’t deserve to have someone like that in his life.

His brother might be dead because of him. And instead of asking for help like a normal person, he had tore into the man he loved and broken up with him, had blamed him for— what? How much he hated himself in that moment?

It was stupid. A stupid mistake he made that he couldn’t take back, that should’ve cost him everything, but Thomas was still here. He was still caring about him and taking care of him.

“What did I ever do to deserve you…?” The words slipped out before he could catch them.

He looked up from his shoes, and Thomas was right in front of him, one of his hands resting on the small of Lennart’s back. He guided him to the dining table, made him sit down, and pushed a plate in front of him.

“Let’s eat.”

———

Inevitably, dinner was awkwardly. Thomas didn’t want to talk about the argument, but Lennart couldn’t think about but the argument. He didn’t even taste the food in his mouth; he was too focused on coming up with what to say.

Should he just apologize? But a simple apology surely wasn’t enough to make up for how terrible he’d been.

“How’s the food? It’s been a while since I’ve cooked for someone else.”

Lennart’s gaze flicked up for a moment, then away. He couldn’t bear to see whatever emotions lay in those piercing crimson eyes. “..It’s good.”

“Really? You’ve barely eaten anything,” he pointed out, the skepticism clear in his voice.

“I’m just not that hungry,” he said flatly.

“Sure. It won’t hurt my feelings if you say it tastes bad, y’know. I know I’m not some world class chef,” Thomas joked.

Lennart paused, trying to focus on the flavor of the food in his mouth. “Why are you being so.. pushy?”

“‘Pushy’?” Thomas scoffed. “Gee, I wonder. It’s almost like my boyfriend’s a fucking mess who hasn’t been home in what, a week? What have you even been eating at the office? Have you slept recently?”

Lennart froze. “This is about me? What— Why the hell are you still so concerned about me?”

“I just told you, didn’t I? You clearly haven’t been concerned about yourself. If you need someone to take care of you, just say the word and I’ll do it.”

“I can take care of myself just fine,” he snapped. He was really getting tired of people undermining his capabilities. First his vice guildmaster, then his secretary, and now his (ex?) boyfriend?

“Yeah, right. Quit lying to yourself, Lennart. I know you’re hurting, but shit, take a look at the last week. What did you accomplish, staying at the office, burning all your candles at both ends?”

“I’ve been—”

“Yeah, I know,” he cut him off, “I know you’ve been following leads, trying to find your brother, but you know what else I know? You’ve been neglecting everything else. Your vice guildmaster is handling almost all your operations, your secretary’s handling your paperwork, and you’ve been letting your health decline for the sake of your investigation.”

“You think I don’t know that?!” His chair screeched back as he stood. “I know it’s not good, I know I’m in no shape to do anything right now, but if I can’t find anything after working at it without ever taking my eyes off it, what chance do I have at all? I don’t….”

He took a breath and sat back down, ashamed of his outburst. “What if I can’t find him? What if he’s gone for good? What then? Everything I’ve built—my guild, my name, my power… it was all so I could protect him. And I failed. After everything, I still failed to protect him. I am watching my life’s work fall apart in front of me, and I can’t do anything to stop it, so forgive me for doing everything I can just to slow the fall.”

“…Lennart. You don’t have to go at it alone.”

“No. No, I do. I’m sorry, Thomas. I’m really sorry. Sorry for everything I said to you, for making you worry about me—for everything I’ve been doing. But this is my job. My fight. I’ve already done too much damage pursuing it. All I can do now is see it through.”

Thomas paused. “Do you have a lead?”

“…I do. Maybe.”

“Then let me go with you.”

“No. I don’t—” I don’t deserve your help. “Why do you want to?”

“I said so before, didn’t I? I love you; I hate seeing you like this.”

“..How can you still love me, after what I said to you?”

“Love doesn’t disappear that easily. If it did, you would’ve kicked me out the minute you got home, instead of looking at me like I’m some kind of salvation.”

“I—” Lennart flushed. “I did not look at you like that.”

“You definitely did. I should’ve taken a picture.”

Lennart swallowed his dry saliva.

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly.

“Wha—? Don’t be, I like knowing you like me back,” he said with a smirk.

“No, I mean.. I’m sorry for pushing you away.”

Now it was Thomas’s turn to pause. “Ah geez.. You’re forgiven, alright? I wasn’t mad at you to begin with.”

…What?

“But.. how? Why aren’t you mad at me? You should hate me.”

“Just because you hate yourself right now doesn’t mean everyone else does. It frustrates the hell out of me, sure, but I was never angry with you. I’m not gonna be pissed at you for grieving and lashing out.”

And to that, Lennart had nothing to say. Or at least, nothing he could say that wouldn’t end in him crying—he must’ve been more on edge than he thought, being on the verge of tears so easily.

So, he said nothing, and sat back down. He took a bite of the chicken. It was a bit spicy, now that he was actually paying attention, but he welcomed the sting. It calmed his mind, let him regain his composure.

“Thank you for cooking. And for.. taking care of my house. I really wasn’t looking forward to putting a bunch of furniture together.”

Thomas looked unimpressed with the change of subject, but he didn’t press. “It was nothing. If you’re still hungry, there’s leftovers from the past few days in the fridge.”

Lennart paused before glancing up at him, their gazes locking in a silent understanding. Thomas had been cooking an extra portion of food every night, waiting for him to come home.

“..Thank you.”

———

The air was thick and acrid, accompanied by the scent of spilled gasoline. Lennart could only be thankful that it wasn’t spilled blood he was smelling as he looked over the old building.

It looked every bit like your typical abandoned factory—a few broken windows that had been boarded up, the occasional mouse or rat scurrying about, leaking pipes, mossy concrete, and several stains on the ground from indistinct substances.

But according to the information he’d dug up, someone was using the storage basement for criminal operations.

At the very least, he thought, someone will be getting justice today, even if it’s not Bjorn.

The thought did little to comfort him, unlike the hand resting firmly on his shoulder.

“So how do you want to do this? Bust down the door and kick some ass, or sneak in and find where they’re keeping your brother and then kick some ass?”

Lennart rolled his eyes. Even he could tell Thomas was being overly dramatic for his sake.

“Sneak in, preferably. They might try to take people hostage if they know we’re coming.”

Thomas nodded, crossing his arms.

The two of them were completely alone on this mission. When Lennart left the office a few days ago, he told his secretary he was taking a small vacation to pull himself together—a believable excuse, and technically true since getting his brother back would do that.

Of course, he had originally planned to tackle the operation himself, but…

Having Thomas with him did help soothe some of his anxiety. They had spent the last two days together—mostly because Thomas refused to leave his side until he no longer looked like he might collapse from a strong wind. Though Lennart had continually protested that they were wasting precious time, he had to admit he felt a lot better than he did when he was trapping himself in his office.

Not only that, but having another pair of eyes look over everything he found was certainly helpful in piecing together the evidence into a cohesive narrative. In hindsight, he really should’ve realized that sooner—but anytime he started to blame himself for that, Thomas would stop to reassure him that his overreaction was valid. (Even if he couldn’t bring himself to agree, it was still nice to hear.)

“Well then, I suppose we ought to get started.”

———

Sneaking into the factory proved to be a lot easier than he thought it would be—which really did nothing to help his anxiety.

For people who were supposedly running a human trafficking ring, they left their security pretty lax. No, in fact, there was not a single guard watching the entrance—not to the factory itself or the basement.

But when they ventured further in, Lennart froze. Blood. He smelled blood. Fresh blood.

He rushed in, and almost ran straight into a young girl who was running in the opposite direction.

“Ack!” She tripped over her own feet trying to avoid him, only saved from landing on her face by Lennart’s hand grabbing her wrist.

She struggled against his hold, tears filling her eyes. “Let me go..!”

He did as she asked, not wanting to scare her any more. “Hey, wait! We’re not—”

The girl barreled past him, narrowly avoiding Thomas as well.

“—here to hurt you…”

“What was that?” Thomas looked between Lennart and the door the girl had run through.

But before he could answer, several more children—all appearing to be around the same age as the girl—ran past them as well.

They exchanged a glance, then a nod. Together, they weaved through the mob of children, toward what they were running from. Lennart kept his hands up the whole time, hoping that would help they realize they weren’t a threat, but he doubted any of them were paying enough attention for that.

Thomas shouldered open the door only to freeze where he stood. The smell of blood was thick enough to choke on now. Lennart slipped by him, but he too couldn’t help but stare in shock.

There were splatters of blood everywhere, on the floor, on the walls, even some on the ceiling. In the middle of the room—which looked to be some kind of prison mixed with a research facility—was a pool of blood. Freshly spilled, if the smell, dead bodies, and the way it was still spreading was any indication.

And at the center of that pool was—

“Bjorn!” Lennart called, practically flying through the carnage. Acting on instinct, he shot a projectile straight for the man standing over him. His brother, kneeling solemnly amid the bloodshed, didn’t react even when Lennart seized him by the shoulders.

Thomas followed behind him, grabbing the man from before by the collar. He growled something to the man, but Lennart couldn’t hear it. Blood roared in his ears. This was his fault.

His sweet little brother had been forced to kill because he hadn’t gotten there in time to stop him. Was he on a rampage? Had the fear gripped his heart and made him go berserk? What did they—

“Lennart…?”

The sound of his name brought him back to reality.

“Bjorn! Are you okay? Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?”

“I… No. I’m okay. I, um..” He glanced around at the massacre. “None of the ones here today were Awakened, so I might’ve… hurt them more than I meant to. I don’t.. I don’t think any of them are dead.”

Lennart’s eyes shook. “You stayed in control? No blacking out?”

Bjorn shook his head. “I used my mana to enhance my body like you taught me. I don’t really… know how to fight though,” he said awkwardly.

A hearty laugh escaped from Lennart before he could stop it, relief flooding his body. His shoulders fell, and he pulled Bjorn until a tight hug.

Abruptly, he pulled away, remembering how Bjorn had reacted last time he hugged him so suddenly. But to his delight, Bjorn returned the embrace, pulling him back in.

His bloody hands were staining one of his favorite coats, but Lennart couldn’t bring himself to care when he little brother was alive. He was okay, he hadn’t lost it, he had protected himself—protected those other children as well.

Lennart’s fingers dug into Bjorn’s back. “You did well. You’re safe now, okay? I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

He glanced sidelong at Thomas. His back was turned, but from his low angle Lennart could clearly see him holding the man from before by his ankle, upside down. Out of sheer astonishment, he left his brother’s embrace to gape at the scene.

“What are you doing..?”

Thomas turned his head, grinning smugly. “Interrogation. This guy’s the head of this whole operation.” He gestured around them.

The man looked to Lennart pleadingly, as if the guy kneeling in a pool of blood for his little brother might protect the one who put him in this position to begin with.

He scoffed, helping Bjorn up with him and walking over leisurely, uncaring of the blood staining his shoes. He looked down at the man, studied his hopeful expression, and kicked him square in the face.

Blood poured from his nose, mixing with that of his comrades in the shape of Lennart’s shoe print. He coughed. “Keuh—! I said I would talk..!”

Lennart crouched beside him, meeting his eyes. “Do you have anything to say that we don’t already know?”

“We-we’re working for someone..! Some Korean guy said he’d pay all the gangs in the area a ton of money to bring him kids who’ve been around Hunters! We never did anything to any of them, I swear! We never even sent out the first shipment..!”

Lennart narrowed his eyes. “This Korean man. What was his name?”

“I-I don’t know! He just said to call him ‘The Instructor’, and— and he was paying us so we didn’t question it.”

“…Damnit.” Lennart stood back up, glancing at Bjorn just to make sure he was still there. “This is a lot bigger than we thought.” He pulled out his phone. “I’ll call someone from the Hunter’s Association to pick these guys up.”

“The German Hunter’s Association handles child trafficking cases?” Thomas asked incredulously.

“No, but this isn’t just child trafficking,” Lennart said with a sigh. “This ‘Instructor’.. I’ve dealt with him before. His goal is to build an army of Forced Awakened.”

Bjorn flinched. Of course he would. He’d gone through a Forced Awakening too, after all. Lennart stood a little closer, just so he could feel his presence. He hoped it was comforting, but maybe that was just his wishful thinking.

Lennart put his phone to his ear, listening to the ring. “Don’t worry, we’ll go home soon. But first…

“Yes, Mr. Chairman. I have something to report regarding a case I’ve been working recently.”

———

The sound of silverware clinking against glass plates somehow brought a smile to Lennart’s face. He hadn’t realized how comforting even the most grating sounds could be in comparison to deafening silence.

“My secretary called. The Association found the last of the criminals weren’t present when the arrest was made, and they’re making good progress finding the children that managed to escape back at the factory. They should have most of them returned to their families and placed with security details by the time my vacation is over.”

Bjorn’s head perked up from where it had been staring at his plate. “..That was fast.”

“Well.. Apparently, when Meri found out I was holed up in my office, she broke down my door to come chase me out.” Lennart sighed. “Of course, I was already gone by then, but I left copies of the evidence files on my desk.”

“On purpose?” Thomas’s brow furrowed in interest.

Lennart nodded. “I knew they would catch onto my plan eventually, so I thought I might as well make their jobs easier.”

Bjorn looked at him like he had sprouted a tree from his head. He opened his mouth to retort, but he was cut off by Thomas’s hearty laugh.

“Shameless. That sounds like something Laura might pull on me.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Ms. Walker is a remarkable woman.”

“Speaking of Laura, I need to head back to the States pretty soon or else she’ll be on my ass about all the paperwork I’m missing.”

Lennart’s smile flickered.

Right. He had forgotten Thomas didn’t actually live with them, didn’t—couldn’t—have a place next to him in bed every night as he had for nearly a week.

“But I’ll still help with the investigation. Just give me a call if you need my help—or if you just want to hear my voice. I don’t mind that either.”

Lennart’s cheeks flushed softly as he cleared his throat. “Well. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Bjorn gripped his fork a little tighter, eyeing the hulking man across from him. “…I want to help too.”

Lennart stiffened. “Wait, really? You don’t have to force yourself for my sake, Bjorn.”

He shook his head. “No, I want to.” He set down his silverware, glancing at his brother only to avert his eyes. “I… All those other kids there with me.. They were so scared. I was scared.” He finally looked up, and Lennart could see the determination in his eyes—a mirror of his own, at times. “I don’t think anyone should have to feel like that.”

To Thomas, it might’ve looked like they were communicating telepathically, based on how long they stared at each other. But in a flash, Lennart was by his brother’s side, pulling him into a one-armed hug and gently ruffling his hair.

“I’m so proud of you, you know that?”

“What— This isn’t..!” Bjorn protested weakly, but he couldn’t shake off Lennart’s affectionate hand.

Lennart finally backed off when Bjorn smacked his hand one too many times, chuckling softly as he retreated back to his seat. He was still smiling when he saw Thomas’s dumbfounded expression, and it grew more solemn when he realized that the man had never witnessed such familial affection.

He wanted to comfort him, to hold him as dearly as he did when Lennart was mourning the loss of his brother, but… the moment wasn’t right for that. At least in his eyes, Thomas was a lot shier than he might have seemed at first glance. Such comfort was for a quiet moment, just the two of them.

“Do you want me to ruffle your hair too?” he teased instead.

“Yes,” Thomas answered, without even a thought for hesitation.

“Pfft. I was just joking.”

The pout that brought to Thomas’s face made Bjorn’s glare resurface.

“Back off my brother, you hooligan,” he practically growled.

“Who are you calling a hooligan, you brat?” Thomas growled back.

Lennart giggled, too quiet for either of them to hear. Their argument—silly as it was—swept past him like a gentle breeze, even as it grew heated.

In truth, he was just happy that the two most important people in his life were there with him, safe and content.

Maybe the guilt he carried, the guilt that had reared its ugly head when Bjorn disappeared, would never be fully healed. But for now, it was enough, knowing that the people he cared about were safe.

Yes, it was good that they were all there, together, able to argue over something so inconsequential. A good thing, indeed.