[Not the dreams he's had the last two years. The nightmares he has over and over, the ones that he wakes up screaming from and clinging for anything to ground him.
This is too good. This is too good and too sweet and too perfect to be real or a dream.
He trembles, shifting to move and roll onto his side facing Hiro and every motion is agony against his sore muscles and bones. But he faces his little brother, reaches a shaking hand to his to just touch. To touch and confirm he's awake and this is real and the smallest noise breaks free from his throat when he feels skin under his fingers. He still feels the weight of the collar against his neck, still sees the scars (burns and others) along his arms, he aches all over, but he's home. The one place he's wanted to be since he can remember waking up after the fire.
This is it. He made it. He can't hold it back anymore; he curls into himself on his side, knuckles just barely touching Hiro's hand and he tries to hide his face in the blankets so he can cry in peace.]
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This is too good. This is too good and too sweet and too perfect to be real or a dream.
He trembles, shifting to move and roll onto his side facing Hiro and every motion is agony against his sore muscles and bones. But he faces his little brother, reaches a shaking hand to his to just touch. To touch and confirm he's awake and this is real and the smallest noise breaks free from his throat when he feels skin under his fingers. He still feels the weight of the collar against his neck, still sees the scars (burns and others) along his arms, he aches all over, but he's home. The one place he's wanted to be since he can remember waking up after the fire.
This is it. He made it. He can't hold it back anymore; he curls into himself on his side, knuckles just barely touching Hiro's hand and he tries to hide his face in the blankets so he can cry in peace.]