ραят ι: ωєαкиєѕѕ

........................................................

"How should we be able to forget those ancient myths that are at the beginning of all peoples, the myths about dragons that at the last moment turn into princesses; perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave. Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.

So you must not be frightened if a sadness rises up before you larger than any you have ever seen; if a restiveness, like light and cloudshadows, passes over your hands and over all you do. You must think that something is happening with you, that life has not forgotten you, that it holds you in its hand; it will not let you fall. Why do you want to shut out of your life any uneasiness, any miseries, or any depressions? For after all, you do not know what work these conditions are doing inside you."

― Rainer Maria Rilker, Letters to a Young Poet.

........................................................

Words were much easier to handle, most of the time. Broken into syllables, letters, sounds, there was no meaning. No meaning except what one gave to it, which, Dex supposed, was either one of the great miracles or great disasters of humanity, that one word could have individual meaning for each person, to the point that there was no meaning at all, diluted as it was.

But in himself, contained with his own little life with his own little definitions, words were manageable.

But when the words were translated into actions, that was where he stumbled. The simplicity of the request-'Come home for Christmas'-was laughable in the slew of issues that rose in its wake. Because the idea of 'home' as some crummy little town in Adelphi that turned its back while Timmy was silently dying was wrong in too many ways, because every visit was a game of hide-and-seek as Timmy turned his face away from the crowds and prayed no one would recognize him, because the thought of the questions and concerns and worried looks was enough to make Timmy sick with anxiety-the meaning there took those simple words, twisted them, turned them into something impossible. Something impossible, but they would do it, because Timmy was the errant brother who wanted nothing more than to return to a home that never really existed, just so he could try to erase the dark shadows of guilt beneath his sister's eyes. Because they wanted so badly to have a proper family, even though neither of them really knew what a proper family was supposed to look like.

Haley was the one who really encouraged it, because she would be able to hitch a ride with them, and because, she said, they'd never get the apartment cleaned up in time for Christmas anyway. There was a pointed glance at Timmy at this point, who just rolled his eyes and stepped around the half-dried paintings scattering the kitchen floor. For the past few weeks, painting was all he'd done, now that he was taking the year off college, and when he touched Dex at night, his hands seem permanently stained with color that didn't belong there. It might be good for him, Dex thought. Not necessarily the trip to Adelphi, but seeing his sister again, reminding himself that he had more than just Dex and Haley to love him, because if there was one lesson that Timmy learned too young and hadn't been able to scrub away it was that no one cared.

And Dex wouldn't mind visiting his own parents on the way, being able to swing by with this haphazard little life he'd built around himself and held together through tears and kisses and strips of canvas, because he was proud of it, proud of what he had, what they had together, needed their affirmation. He wanted to hold Timmy's hand and let the light shine on the matching bands on their fingers, a promise with no set date but a certainty, wanted his parents to see what he found, see what he'd made, prove to them that it could and would last, even if they'd never actually expressed their doubt. He still felt it. So plans were made and presents were wrapped and there was the battle over whether Haley should pay for her own plane ticket or not that was never really a fair fight at all, and then a week before Christmas, Dex closed the insurance office, went home to the apartment, and the three of them all head to the airport.

Dex had never been a fan of airplanes. He sat curled up over his book while the plane took off, and Timmy meld himself to Dex's side, whispering stories into his ear and playing with the collar of Dex's shirt. His fingers were warm against Dex's skin, little pinpricks of heat. Haley was in the row of seats in front of them, leaning her head against the window and trying to keep a healthy distance away from the man sitting next to her. She'd been quieter, lately, since moving back in with them. She never really explained why she needed to, only that she did. Dex thought, sometimes, that she got too lonely living by herself. She seemed lonely, still, muted somehow. He hoped being in Adelphi for Christmas would help.

The plane was filled to capacity, each passenger bundled up in heavy winter jackets that filled the air with the stale smell of mildew and dust. Someone would probably walk off this plane with the flu.

It would probably be Timmy, Dex thought, turning his head just a little so he could press a kiss to the top of Timmy's head, now pillowed on his shoulder as Timmy slowly undid the buttons on Dex's jacket and then did them back up again. Timmy got sick more than any of them-stress and a weakened immune system to blame-and every time he did, Dex was terrified it would turn into something more, even though logically he knew that a cold would not develop into another brain tumor.

Timmy seemed to know what he was thinking-he often did-because he tilted his head up at Dex and rolled his eyes. "Stop stressing out," he whispered. "I'm fine. You're fine. Everything is just fine."

It was always believable when he said it like that.

........................................................

Jenna picked them up at the airport. When she hugged Timmy, Dex always had to wonder if she'd ever let go. He knew how it felt, somewhat, to think you'd lost Timmy forever, only to get him back. For Dex though, when Timmy returned to him, he had patched himself over, sure of who he was and stronger than any of them. For Jenna, when her only comparison was a few years with no dramas, there was no way she could look at Timmy now and see the improvement Dex did.

Sometimes Dex felt like he stole Timmy from his sister. He found Timmy when Jenna wasn't able to, took care of him, and then, even when Timmy went back to Adelphi for the first time, he went home with Dex, because that was where he said he belonged. Sometimes, it felt wrong.

He wondered if Timmy felt the same way, when they saw Dex's parents in California, saw the ways that they didn't know their son, remembered the nights when he and Dex would sit there painting, and Timmy fixed Dex up before Dex even realized what he was doing.

It was complicated. Everything about it seemed complicated. He thought, though, that sometimes he placed too much emphasis on the 'because'. It's complicated 'because' Jenna abandoned Timmy. It's complicated 'because' Dex once drank his way through every night. It's complicated 'because' Timmy was sick and disappeared for months at a time. It's complicated 'because' it's them. Maybe there was no because.

Maybe being in love was just so damn complicated without any help at all.

They swung by Haley's parents' house and dropped her off before heading to the MacPherson-Ryeille home. Dex sat up front with Jenna, and Timmy laid sprawled across the backseat, despite the glares from the both of them. "Just don't crash the car, sis," he said, and puffed his jacket up a little higher under his chin.

Drew was just putting dinner out when they got to the house. Dex liked Drew. Timmy didn't really feel comfortable around him-not yet-but he tried so hard for him, for Jenna. Dex had gotten better at seeing when people were hurting though, and he saw it in his face when Timmy jerked awkwardly away from his hug. The brother of his beloved wife, and Drew tried to make up for her mistakes.

Dex often thought that the largest problem they had-that Timmy had-was accepting that some things were damaged, and could never be fixed entirely. They tried so hard, but no one ever managed to get through life without leaving someone irreparably broken in some small way.

Dex wondered who he broke. Maybe it was himself.

Jenna first did it to Timmy, followed by the people at the orphanage. But then he fixed Dex, fixed himself too, so maybe it balanced out in the end. They played-act at being a normal family, for the relative value of normal.

........................................................

On the second day, Jenna convinced Timmy to go shopping with her. He came back white-faced, a huge bear clutched tight in his hands, but he didn't actually fall apart until Dex got him alone in the guest-room, Timmy's room, the guest room that only evolved into a guest room after Jenna gave hope up of Timmy coming to find her. It was only when he took the bear from Timmy and placed it on the bed that he realized Timmy was shaking.

"Shhh," he said, and that was all they said, because they figured that out about each other a long time ago. Timmy stepped forward into Dex's arms and they stood there, holding tight. Timmy's skin was still cold from the outside air, his hair dusted with little pinpricks of melted snowflakes.

Finally, Timmy leaned back, only to grab Dex's hands and drag him over to the bed. He collapsed into the pillows. Dex climbed on top of him like he was a blanket. "There were people at the mall," he whispered, as Dex twisted his fingers in the threads of Timmy's scarf. "People who."

They'd known it might happen of course. They'd also known this was how Timmy would react. "You going to be okay?" Dex asked, because he already knew that Timmy wasn't okay right now. Timmy hated reminders of this past life, of the people who tortured or worse, did nothing at all. And maybe hated them more, if they were the ones who pretended to care, but turned away blind anyway.

Dex knew Haley hated herself for it. He wondered if the others did too. "It was Max Ramsdale, with his brothers," Timmy whispered into Dex's neck, and Dex worked his hands beneath Timmy so he could hold him tighter. He'd heard about Max Ramsdale, mostly from Haley, and he hated him for breaking Timmy. Or any of those kids who were ignorant of Timmy's sufferings.

Dex had his own problems with that, but Timmy didn't need to hear that now. What he did instead was ask Timmy to show him what he bought, and Timmy did, running his hands over the soft cuddly toys with a shine in his eyes, a reminder of the brighter parts of his childhood. Watching Timmy playing with his soft toys, Dex couldn't help but to chuckle at Timmy's childishness. And with that, his worry dissipated into nothingness.

That night they laid there together in the bed, and Timmy fitted their hands together, twisted the engagement ring around Dex's finger, relaxed against him. "Did I tell you I love you today?" He asked, and Dex nodded, because maybe Timmy never actually said the words, he said it in the way he pulled Dex on top of him, in the way he smiled, in the way he moaned as Dex fitted into Timmy perfectly now.

Said it in the way he nestled down in the sheets and draped himself across Dex, face pressed up into Dex's neck, and watched Dex read by the dim light of the bedside lamp.

........................................................

Christmas Eve, and Dex woke up alone in bed. He rolled over and glanced at the clock. Past midnight. The bed was cold where Timmy abandoned it. Timmy was often up at night, spread out across the living room floor with his paintings, but he had none of that here, so Dex wrapped one of the spare blankets that littered the bed around his shoulders, and went in search of him.

He was still half-asleep, head fuzzy and limbs not working quite like he needed them too, and he remembered when he was young, doing this, sneaking out of bed on Christmas Eve to see if Santa Claus had come. He remembered the night he spotted his father, putting out presents by the tree, but he hadn't known it was his father at the time, because the business suit had been replaced with red and white.

It was memories like this that made his father's approval so important, what ached the most when the distance had spread between them.

But it wasn't his father who sat on the couch, face lit by the soft white lights strung around the Christmas tree. It was Jenna.

Timmy was curled into her side, feet drawn up onto the cushions. They both glance up from the ornaments glittering gently on evergreen branches when Dex stumbled into the room, and Timmy smiled at him, sleepy and warm from where his sister's arms were wrapped around him.

"Hey Dex."

"Hi." Dex's voice came out scratchy. He gestured jerkily back towards the bedroom. "I can...I can go...?"

"Come here, Dex." Jenna offered, not unkindly so. Dex nodded, sitting down beside Timmy and throwing one edge of the blanket over him. Timmy pulled him closer, fingers chilly to Dex's skin, and didn't let go.

"What are you people doing up?" Dex asked, and settled himself against Timmy's chest.

Timmy shifted so his legs stuck out on either side of Dex, knees bracketing Dex' shoulders. His feet were bare, freezing even through Dex's pajama pants, and Dex put his hands on them to warm them up. "We used to do this with my mom," he said, and Dex heard Jenna sighed in affirmation. Timmy tucked his head into the space between Dex's shoulder and neck and kept talking, voice quiet even in the silence of the house. "When I was little, I never used to be able to sleep because I was so excited. So Mom and Dad and sis would come into my room after midnight, and we'd sit around the tree and each open one present, and then we'd go back to bed for a few hours."

Dex turned his head to look when Jenna spoke, watched how the shadows move across their bodies, flickered on the bright wrapping paper of the presents beneath the tree. Jenna's voice was rough with sleep, but happy, and Dex could see the way her fingers tightened around Timmy's shoulders. "Mom would...um...she'd always make us cocoa, to drink. You boys...?"

"Yes please sis." So the three of them sat on the couch, Timmy sandwiched between Jenna and Dex, as they wrapped their hands around cheesy holiday mugs and sipped hot cocoa with whipped cream on top, and watched the lights on the tree sparkle like stars.

And maybe it was the way Timmy snuggled up tight to him and kissed Dex's shoulder, or the way Dex caught Jenna smiling over at the both of them, or the comfortable silence that settled around them like newly fallen snow, but Dex thought that maybe this family wasn't broken or disconnected, but merely undiscovered.

It'd been there, all along, just waiting to be dusted off and brought to life.

........................................................

Christmas day passed in a blur of gift exchanges and phone-calls, rushed meals between visits from friends, and coffee cups littered along with the discarded wrapping paper, the only thing keeping them upright and smiling. Jenna and Drew gave Dex a scarf and mitten set, which he needed. Timmy didn't get him anything, which he knew cause some odd glances, and when Timmy didn't even explain, it hurt a bit. He knew it was probably selfish, or greedy, that he should feel grateful for the little things, and luckily the feeling went away when he saw Timmy's face when Timmy opened his own present from Dex-a fluffy, snow-white teddy bear .

"Thank you," Timmy whispered into Dex's ear when they got a moment alone, wrapping his arms around Dex's neck and pressing his face into Dex's neck like a tired kitten.

They drove, then flew to see Dex's parents, had dinner there, and it felt nice. Like a family. Really like a family, especially when his mother asked to see the engagement rings and Timmy held up his hand, blushing and looking so happy, so proud, and Dex couldn't believe how lucky he was to get this.

........................................................

They were driving back to Adelphi, the headlights of Drew's truck shining on the road half-slick with ice. Timmy steered carefully, went far below the speed limit, and the gentle rocking of the truck was soothing. Dex leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and drifted off, until he felt the car slow and stop. He opened his eyes, and glanced over at Timmy, who had pulled off to the side of the road and was staring at him, eyes soft.

"What?" He asked, sitting upright.

"I want to give you your Christmas present now," Timmy said. Dex must look surprised, because Timmy lifted one eyebrow and tilted his head to the side. "What, you thought I wasn't going to get you anything?"

"You don't..." Dex began.

"Idiot," Timmy finished for him, and pulled a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. He had to unbuckle to twist in his seat, so Dex did too, and they faced each other, faces lit by the dashboard. Timmy handed the piece of paper across, and Dex took it. He was wearing his new mittens, and he had to tug one off with his teeth in order to unfold the paper...no...the picture.

Haley must have taken it, because there's Timmy on the floor, smiling up at him. He was covered in paint, purple splashed across his skin, kneeling on the floor with the painting at his feet. Even through the blurriness of the picture, Dex could tell who the painting was of.

"That's us," he murmured, stroking his thumb across the paper. "You painted us together."

Snow in the park, snowflakes caught on outstretched tongues, hands twined together and heads spinning. He remembered this night. Remembered falling a little bit more in love.

If all the snowflakes were candy bars and milkshakes...

He could just make out their smiles on their painted faces.

"I couldn't really bring it with me," Timmy explained, raising one hand and brushing Dex's cheek. "Management let me work in one of the empty apartments, so it's still there. I can give it to you properly when we get home but..." Timmy had never painted them before. The only time he painted himself was as one of those twisted broken figures that Dex still saw sometimes when he dreamt. Because painting had always been his way of escape, of dreaming. And he escaped to these moments of sing songs and snowflakes and kisses that hadn't been, and Dex didn't care what kind of family they'd made because it was theirs and he wouldn't trade it for anything. "I love you so much," he said, because those words were so easy to handle even in all their complexity. Timmy smiled shyly, and leaned across to brush his lips against Dex's, and there was such a finality to it, something that they couldn't have had two years ago when they were only falling in love, something small that meant everything.

"I love you too." Dex knew they would both spend the rest of their lives living up to how those words translated into actions, with kisses and paintings and lives built together. And he realized he just figured out his own definition of family.

........................................................

αυтнσя'ѕ иσтє:

It has been nearly a year since I last posted anything, though I did spend most of my holidays writing, most of my work, admittedly, were of Timmy and Dex. WHY? YOU ASKING MOI WHY???? Because I miss them, THAT'S why! Hales too! *hugs her tightly*

Haley: Get away from me, you homo! *slaps*

Me: Le gasps! I created you!

Haley: Poor guy. He musta had a hard time getting you m-preggo.

Me: =3=

Oops, I got carried away again.. Anyway, they celebrated Halloween and Christmas, rang in the New Year, and they had their fair share of birthdays and anniversaries! But as of today, this is what you get! (This was what popped into my head a few nights ago when I took some time off studying to write.) I hope you guys love this as much as I do!

Oh, and SNOW CONES to all of my lovely readers! *distributes homemade vanilla cones*

PS. Fall Asleep by UsTheDuo.