“What’s with the face, Touma? Didn’t ya miss me?”

Miss him? Of course I did. More than anything. But… he was long gone. Spending my time missing him did nothing for me. Nothing more but bring me problems. 

My eyes immediately zeroed in the red-feather earring on his right ear, half hidden by his smooth black looks. It was the same as mine, except I used to wear it on the other ear. Phantom pain exploded on my lobe, the scar in there burning. 

The feeling of water filling my mouth, the fear of not being able to breathe properly, heavy hands pushing me down, the rush of my blood on my ears. It all came back so suddenly that my knees grew weak and I stumbled backwards. 

“Touma?” 

Jason’s face is not really made to show concern, it ends up looking weird. Kinda like one of the cats that looked like their face was flat, eternally wearing an upset expression. 

It’s enough to bring me back to the present. 

‘That man is dead too.’ I remind myself. ‘Killed on a raid. Yan killed him for me. He cannot hurt me anymore.’ 

Jason hadn’t changed even a little. He still looked just like he had during that terrible day -white jacket, cargo pants, black undershirt.- with the exception of the blood explosion on his chest. His complexion wasn’t pale, his eyes didn’t hold any pain. He wasn’t scared. 

It was not the same image that I saw in my nightmares, somewhat that made it all worse. 

“Go away.” I pleaded, closing my eyes. My entire body shaking. “Please go away.” 

The temperature in the room dropped as the air shifted. 

“Shit!” Jason’s voice came out distorted, guttural. 

I covered my ears with my palms, starting to sway back and front. ‘He’s not real. He’s not real. He’s not real. I’m seeing things again.’ 

A crueler version of my nightmares, sure. But not less fictional. And Gods, you really don’t know what you have until it is no longer there, huh? I never imagined I would prefer the malicious barbs of “Your fault.” and ”Backstabber.” But I did. The anger and hurt were much more palatable than these faux nonchalantly. 

My breathing was fast, superficial. Trying to control it wouldn’t do much, I knew. I had already lost the window to stop the panic. What I needed to do now was to find a way to focus on reality, on the now instead of the then.

‘The broken bottles.’ The thought came unbidden, a speck of light in the darkness. 

I dropped to my knees; there wasn’t glass biting into my legs. Keeping my eyes closed, I reached with my hands, desperately trying to keep breathing so I wouldn’t faint and make an even bigger embarrassment of myself. 

The sound that left my lips as my hand closed around a shard of glass couldn’t be called anything but a sob. Relief crashed on me like a wave as I registered the warm/cold of the cut, then the sharp pain and then the blood dripping down my arm. 

If it hurt, it meant I was alive. 

Slowly my breathing became longer, deeper. The air filling my lungs vanished the lightheadedness and allowed me to reach the point of no return. 

I clutched my bleeding hand against my chest, curling around myself to make myself as smaller as I could. Shoulders hunching over my ears, mouth really close to my hands. My own breathing sending goosebumps as it connected with my skin. 

The metallic aftertaste of the blood anchoring me even as it made me gag. Too strong, too close to be encompassing in my senses. (Too close to that horrible, horrible moment when my world died in front of me.) The Gods soft heart being the only thing that kept the phantom warm splattered across my face far away from my conscient thoughts. 

I’m not entirely sure how long I stood there, frozen like a statue that reflected just how pathetic a human could be. 

That’s to say, the soft tapping on my shoulder made me jump ten feet out of my skin and yell like a high-schooler; a flare of fear breaking through my control before I could squash it down. Just as the incoherent thought of ‘Oh Ergo, he fucking touched me! ’ clawed his way to the front of my mind. 

Daisy’s chagrined grimace felt a punch to the gut. 

“Sorry.” She signed, guilt evident in her eyes. “I didn’t mean to spook you but…” 

She couldn’t call my name and I was too out of it to have heard her steps. Sheez, I even had ignored the change in the illumination. That space-awareness, really. 

“It’s ok.” I said quickly, a small smile coming to my lips. Even as the relief turned into exhaustion and I was faced with the certainty that I would not be able to get up on my own. Shit. This really was just not my night. “Fuck. Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

“No, it wasn’t you. Tonight just wasn’t made for sleeping, I guess.” 

Ah, nightmares. Yeah, I get it. Tim had the same problem, his mind being cruel to him when he was sleeping. My own when I was awake. I wasn’t sure which one was worse but could tell, even without experimenting, that nightmares were shit. 

“I was hoping a hot chocolate would help.” Daisy admitted. “Would you like one? After I’ve helped you heal your hand, of course.” 

I winced at the wording but hadn’t in my to fight it. Not when her eyes were full of determination and sadness. 

“Sure, I would love that. Thank you.” 

…

“You’re way better at this than what I was expecting.” I admitted, feeling ill footed as Daisy worked on my hand with the precision of a nurse. 

She smiled gently and shook her head, hands occupied with the bandages. The haunted air that had been surrounding her was no more than a memory now and I congratulated myself for reading the room correctly for once and allowing the help. It seemed that helping me had given her a respite of her own mind. 

“I have practice.” Daisy signed with a sad smile. 

I tilted my head in confusion. Didn’t she join us after the gang was done for? She was outside-born so she wouldn’t have learned from experience, right? Alfa or not, she was too girly to get into fights that she couldn’t win. 

“Pete was never a fighter. Yet, he was always jumping in when people needed help. It didn’t matter to him that he was an omega or that he ended up beaten. So, I learned for him. To put my grain of sand in his path instead of stepping on his cape.” 

Daisy’s expression is incredibly soft, loving. It’s also incredibly sad. 

“I… didn’t know him well.” Understatement of the year, actually. My bad timing acting again ‘cause now I couldn’t help myself but feel curious about him. The Peter that she loved, the one that wasn’t exactly the one Tim adored but had the potential to become him.

“Would you… Mm. I, no, never-mind.” I flushed under her gaze, cursing my mouth. Brain latching on the first excuse I could think of to leave before I put my foot further into my mouth. “I will make some chocolate for you. As thanks. For the hand. Uh— Forgive me.”

Daisy’s hand grip on my own, gentle but firm, made me freeze. Being stopped was bad, very bad, ‘cause it meant I was in fact not forgiven. 

Making girls cry was not a thing I wanted to be on my resume; never had been an interest of mine, thankfully. 

I looked down at her with guilty eyes, grateful at the lack of tears. Daisy’s lips curved slightly as she released me. “I would love to tell you about him.” 

Oh. 

That…

I couldn’t do anything but blink at her, barely keeping myself from gap unattractively. Forcing the words out was way more complicated than what it should have been. “I would like that. I think.” 

Daisy nodded, “Come on, you can help with the chocolate if you want.” 

I nodded dumbly, following her to the kitchen with a weird warm spread inside my chest. Was I getting sick after all? It didn’t feel like a cold, though. 

…

Raphael entered the kitchen with a yawn. Then stopped as if a cold water bucket had been dropped over his head, suddenly awake, he blinked owlishly at the strange scene developing in front of him, silently wondering if he was seeing things. 

He rubbed his eyes and…Nope, it hadn't changed. 

“Huh.” 

Raphael took careful steps closer to the table, stomach grumbling at the sight of food. Raphael took a careful sniff and felt his mouth watered at the rich and inviting smells hidden in the lull of peace-calm-safety that lingered. 

His cloud-like eyes moved to the two sleeping figures near him, a smile forming at the sight of their relaxed expressions. ‘Damn, do they look adorable.’ 

Touma was taller than Daisy, at least a head, but he was tucked under the pink-haired girl’s chin. Their arms around each other to keep themselves from failing, the chairs tilted precariously as they both leaned to the side to be able to sleep in a simulation of a puppy-pile. 

Raphael quickly returned to his room, grabbed his phone, and practically ran to the kitchen. Punching the air in victory when he found the scene unchanged, he lifted his phone and took a picture. 

‘Adorable.’ He nodded satisfied, sending it to the pack chat. ‘Everyone is gonna love it.’ 

And if he was being sincere, they all needed whatever speck of happiness they could get. After all, a week after the funerals, their grief was fresh and the wound open. But this moment, starred by two of the ones who were hurting the most, was a glimpse of hope in the dark sea of guilt and regrets. 

It was proof that even if things looked horrible, they could heal as long as they stayed together. 

(It was also a reminder, to himself, to Drake, that Touma was human. As human as the rest of them and deserved to be included into the pack, not kept as an arm-height because his presence made them face uncomfortable truths.)

Now, how to wake them without startling them? The last thing Raphael wanted was for the two of them to get hurt. But he couldn’t let them stay like this, the house was waking up and they were a raucous group. 

‘Little gremlins.’ Raphael thought fondly. 

Most keeping the level of maturity they had when in their teenage years, if not all. Well, at least the ones that had been involved in Strays. Their couples were mostly well-adjusted. 

“You’re thinking too loud.” 

“Oh? Am I?” Raphael had the decency to look sheepish. 

“Yes.” Touma informed him with a sleepy pout. 

Purple eyes were narrowed at him but there was no way Touma could be menacing while he was being cuddled by a silently-laughing Daisy. 

“My most sincere apologies.” Raphael said, winking at her. 

Daisy’s shoulders shook with more force as she freed one of her hands, flashing the sign for ‘trouble’ in his direction. The mirth in her chocolate eyes was such a great thing to see, it filled Raphael’s chest with warmth. 

“Fucking troublemaker.” Touma agreed with a growl, cheeks red. 

Raphael threw his head back and laughed.