flumptober day one : fall food

well- what started as a two-word prompt ended up being this monstrosity of a short story, all 10k words of it. :0 even now, after writing it, i'm still not exactly sure how this came to be such a long or detailed thing, but nevertheless i'm super proud of it! (for reference, the longest chapter of anything i've written prior to this is like 7.7k words!)

for this entry i wanted to do something with the idea of people bonding over food as a family and/or with their friends, so that's sort of how it started out and slowly began to take shape. plus, soup and bread are one of my very favorite foods that my family and i enjoy throughout the fall- which is why i've decided to use them for the prompt!

this story also turned into a way for me to process some things in my own life that have been happening as of late- which was unexpected, but a really good thing. i lost my grandfather only three months ago, and to be honest- like the characters here i struggle at times with learning how to work through his death.

writing this entry turned out to be incredibly healing, gave words to some of the things that i have been feeling, as well as a way to write things out and process through them in a healthy way, while hopefully still portraying them in a way that is authentic and not stereotypical.

as sad and as hard as it was to lose my grandfather, it's given me a new perspective of what it's like to grieve and to lose someone, and on how i can better understand how to help others going through something similar, and i'm super grateful that this story gave me an outlet through which to process some of those things.

with all of that being said, thank you all for reading. i hope that you enjoy the story! (and rest assured: the other entries should be nowhere near as long as this one!)

trigger warnings : brief mentions of cancer, implied main character death, loss and grief, brief mentions of a neglectful/absent parent, multiple people dealing with the death of a loved one, some feelings of hopelessness and/or despair, brief instance of mature language, and just the overall theme of loosing family members throughout the story.

(while these things are a big part of the story, and i have tried to showcase grief and the healing process in an authentic way, a lot of the themes above are implied, or not written about in great detail, and most of the story is fluff and hurt/comfort that outweighs the angst. it does have a bittersweet ending.)

(still- if any of this could be potentially triggering for you, i would advise that you either proceed with caution or find something else to read. your health is more important than a short story!)

universe : technically it's from the same universe as my 'balance of light and darkness trilogy', but you don't have to have read that because this follows like a similar timeline and some of the plots from the tv show. pretty much the only thing that's different than the show is my oc, as well as some miniscule changes to the canon timeline.

words : 10, 071

dedication : this entry is dedicated to @Skystorm320 ! thank you so much for your comments over on 'emergence', they have been such an encouragement and i have really enjoyed bonding over our love for cole and lyla- our discussions are actually one of the things that inspired parts of this little oneshot! thanks again! <3

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[ what is grief, if not love persevering? ]

also known as : five times the brookstone siblings bonded with people over a family tradition

( title taken from wandavision )

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~ [1] ~

"What are you making, Mom?"

Still just barely too short to see into the pot that was on the stove, Cole stood on his tiptoes as he assessed the various ingredients on the counter, trying to figure out what his mother was cooking.

Lily smiled, turning from the cutting board she was using to gaze down at her son fondly. "I'm making soup, love. For the first day of fall, remember?"

"Oh yeah!" Cole immediately perked up upon hearing his mother's words, now excited for the meal ahead. In all the craziness lately, he must have forgotten about the changing of the seasons.

His mother's bandana, used to hide some of the loss of hair due to her cancer treatments, was more festive today, and Cole decided that it was perfectly 'fall themed', the maroon fabric with sunflower designs and autumn leaves on it in gold the perfect thing for a day like today.

"Do you want any help with it?" the raven-haired boy asked, though his request was more along the lines of taste testing than actually being helpful.

Almost as if she knew, Lily just nodded with an amused expression. "I suppose I could use an extra pair of hands. Do you want to help me grab carrots and celery from the fridge?"

"Sure thing, Mom!" Eager for the excuse to escape the dancing lesson of sorts currently taking place in the living room, he headed off in the direction of the fridge to find the vegetables for her.

Peaceful silence settled in the kitchen, save for the rummaging in the refrigerator, and Cole could feel his mouth watering already at the smell of the onions and meat cooking in the pot on the stove.

With an armload of carrots and celery, he made his way back to the counter where his mother was working and placed them triumphantly beside her.

"Thank you, dear," Lily hummed, bending down slightly to press a gentle kiss to the top of her son's head (though he wasn't much shorter than her now!).

Cole squirmed away, ruffling his hair in indignation. "Mom!" he whined, his dark eyes flickering with annoyance.

She just laughed in response, deciding to change the subject to keep from chiding him about his annoyance at her affections, the thought that who knew how many more of these days they'd have together always lingering at the back of her mind.

"Tired of dance class?"

Cole wrinkled his nose at this, all the response she needed. "Maybe a little," he mumbled, then continued hesitantly: "It's just not for me, Mom. I'm not a dancer like you and dad."

These were deeper thoughts than the ones normally on her son's mind, spoken with a hint of disappointment and perhaps shame at the admission.

Lily immediately paused her vegetable cutting, brow furrowing as she turned to Cole to comfort him without any hesitation or delay.

"And that's perfectly fine. There are other things in the world for you to do that don't involve dancing, and you'll find them one day. I promise, love."

Cole looked up at his mother solemnly, hanging on her every word. "Promise?" He asked in a quiet voice.

Lily smiled and nodded. "I promise."

"But what about Dad? He's convinced I'm going to be a dancer when I grow up, and I don't wanna disappoint him."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she assured him, turning to the stove to check on the soup. "There's still plenty of time for you to grow up, time for you to figure out what you want to do. Maybe you'll change your mind about dancing, and maybe not."

Facing Cole again, her expression grew serious. "I know your father can be a little . . . particular sometimes, and when he sets his mind to things it can be hard to change it.

He loves dancing and singing, and he loves you and Lyla very much. So it's perfectly natural for him to try and connect the two, to use it as a way to bond with you and your sister and pass those things, those skills onto you."

She chuckled quietly. "It's a little like how Lyla tries to get you to dance with her, or play a game with her sometimes, as much as you might not enjoy it, or might even be annoyed by it.

She doesn't want you to feel left out, wants to include you in something that brings her joy, and at the bottom of it does it because she really cares about you. Does that make sense?"

"I guess so," her son replied, the weight he'd been carrying around for a while now seeming so much lighter than it had even moments ago.

"The important thing is that your father and I love you very much, and no matter what choices you make, as long as you believe those are the right choices for you, regardless of what anyone says otherwise, than we will support you in those choices- still love you no matter what."

Cole nodded, blinking away the tears that had been forming in his eyes as she spoke, his expression one of relief and peace.

"Thanks, Mom."

She smiled, turning away to chop vegetables again as Cole climbed up onto one of the chairs at the kitchen bar to watch her work.

Once he was settled comfortably, a couple moments of silence passed again before he spoke up with another question.

"Why are we making soup today, Mom? Didn't we do it last year, too?"

"You're right, we did. That's the point of a family tradition like this- it's something that you do every year."

Lily dumped the carrots and celery she'd cut into the soup pot, then came to the bar to give Cole the small carrot sticks she'd cut for him.

"This particular tradition is one that's been in my family for many years now. As far as I can remember, my mom would always make soup for us on the first day of autumn. She would usually make bread, too.

She liked the way it made the house smell good, the kitchen warm and cozy, and made something about that day a little special. Autumn was my mom's favorite season. And now I get to continue the tradition with my family."

"That's so cool," Cole mumbled around a mouthful of carrots, which caused Lily to poke his nose playfully.

"You know what's really cool? Not talking with food in your mouth," she replied, smiling a tiny bit in spite of herself.

He shrugged sheepishly, making the wise decision to wait and apologize until after he'd finished that bite.

"It's alright, love. Now- do you want to help me make some bread for us to eat later?"

"I wanna help too!"

A small blonde girl came skipping into the kitchen, still dressed in her ballet slippers and favorite pink tutu, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed from dancing.

Lily looked over at her daughter in amusement, noting the pure elation practically ebbing off of her.

"Of course you can help. Why don't you take your tutu and shoes off first though, so you don't get them dirty. Making bread can be messy."

"Okay Mom!" Lyla replied, skipping off again as she disappeared out of the kitchen, hopefully to go and change.

Lily tied on one of her aprons, the sunflowers on it now faded slightly from repeated use and washings, but nevertheless it remained her favorite one.

She then grabbed two smaller aprons, offering one to Cole, who, like always, refused to wear it (and would inevitably come out filthy later), and setting one out on a chair for Lyla.

Once the three of them were reunited and all the small hands had been washed, aprons tied with help, and blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail, they set about their bread making.

They remained in the kitchen for another hour or two, their laughter and voices filling the room, valuable and meaningful conversations taking place regardless of age gaps and interests.

Sometimes Lou would peek in on them, and while he was initially occupied with work in another room, he too took his turn stirring and tasting the soup, cutting the bread, and joining in the conversations later on.

Outside, the autumn wind had begun to blow, stirring up some leaves and making the air chilly, but inside the Brookstone home it was warm and peaceful, perfectly cozy, the smell of soup and fresh bread filling every room.

Autumn, much anticipated, had finally begun, and everything was as it should be- a moment of peace and joy amongst the craziness that was their life.

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~ [2] ~

The first day of autumn without Lily was a difficult one.

To say that it turned out to be a disaster was an understatement. It was one of those days where it felt like everything that could have gone wrong went wrong.

For starters, like almost every other day now, Lou was off with his singing group while Cole and Lyla remained at home alone. This was the first obstacle that contributed to their struggles.

Once morning chores had been completed and the house was back to some semblance of its normal state, the Brookstone siblings had come to the decision that they would attempt to make a nice dinner.

Not just any dinner- the traditional first day of autumn one of soup and bread that had meant so much to their dear mother.

While initially, they had thought of skipping it, the reminder of Lily's death still sharp and painful, the grief still too fresh, they had decided to try it.

She would want it that way, wouldn't want their family tradition to be forgotten, Cole had said. They would do it in her memory.

The problem was: Cole was not a cooking expert, and Lyla was still too young to do everything by herself. She could do a little, but neither she or Cole were skilled enough to attempt something as intricate and challenging as making soup and bread from scratch.

Heck, the two of them combined weren't even skilled enough to pull off something like that.

Thinking they could was their first mistake.

"Is the meat supposed to be that pink still? We've been cooking it for pretty much forever now," Lyla said contemplatively, hopping down from her stool by the stove.

Cole squinted into the pot, one eyebrow raised as he studied the very pink and still slimy looking meat. "I don't think so . . . Maybe we should turn the heat up?"

It came out as more of a question than he would have liked. Unfortunately, he was the oldest, and was at least supposed to know more than his younger sister.

Lyla just shrugged her small shoulders, frowning slightly. "I guess so . . ." She turned up the burner on the stove as high as it would go, thinking that would help the meat cook faster.

Cole was too distracted with flipping through the cookbook for a bread recipe to notice. This was their second mistake.

"I don't know Lya- this looks really complicated," he said hesitantly, peering down at the recipe, a lump in his throat forming as he noticed their mother's notes on the side.

He traced the familiar handwriting with a finger, the simple letters bringing back many fond memories of their childhood and all the things their mother had done for them.

Angrily he rubbed away the sudden tears in his eyes, trying to prevent Lyla from seeing them. As always though, she noticed his tears, and was quick to wrap one of her tiny arms around his waist in an attempt to comfort him, pressing her head into his side.

"I miss Mom too," she whispered, sniffling.

Cole exhaled shakily, wrapping an arm of his own around his sister and pulling her close. "I know . . . we all do."

He took comfort in their embrace, grateful that at least they had each other now. If nothing else, he had Lyla. And nothing in the entire world was going to stop him from being there for her and taking care of her.

Several moments passed. Cole did his best to compose himself, his gaze fixed determinedly on the blonde hair fanned out across his arm, the light strands perfectly contrasting the darker tones of his own skin.

He took a deep breath, managing a small smile as the flow of tears began to diminish, the same sense of calmness flooding his heart as did almost every time he let himself cry.

Messy as it was, ugly as it was, even humiliating as it could feel sometimes, he always did feel a little better after he cried. There was some truth to the whole 'crying makes you feel better' theory after all, it would seem.

"She's in a better place now, and she's not suffering anymore," Cole finally ventured, his voice coming out steadier than he thought it would. 

He brushed some hair back from his sister's face, wiping away the traces of tears on her own cheeks with a gentle hand.

"And she wouldn't want us to be sad. We're just going to have to keep carrying on without her, until we get to see her again one day."

Lyla's crystal blue eyes were watery and wide as she gazed up at him, her face red and splotchy from crying, her nose irritated where she had wiped it with a sleeve.

"Promise? We will see her again one day?" she whispered.

"I believe we will. And she did too," Cole replied, bending down to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Now, let's continue making that soup."

"Okay," Lyla mumbled, rubbing her eyes once more for good measure. "We'll have to wash our hands again now. Mine are all gross."

Cole laughed at this, the sound filling both their little kitchen and his heart with warmth. "That's a great idea, Lya. We'll do that first."

She brightened, skipping off in the direction of the sink. Something stopped her in her tracks, however, causing Cole to almost collide with the shorter girl.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning as he tried to decipher the frantic and horrified expression on his sister's face as she grabbed his shirt, tugging at it.

"The meat is on fire, Cole!" she shrieked, pointing at the stove where small tendrils of smoke were rising gracefully toward the ceiling from the pot below.

"What the-- how in the world--?!" He sputtered, full out sprinting toward the stove as he snatched the fire extinguisher from the corner.

In retrospect, the one plus to his horrible cooking skills was the fact that he'd learned how to use a fire extinguisher a very long time ago.

Apparently, in the midst of their heartfelt sibling bonding moment and processing of grief, he had forgotten to stir the meat or break it up at all. 

Or, you know, make sure that the burner wasn't cranked up as high as it could go in the first place.

Fortunately, there was no actual fire on the stove, just a ton of smoke from the burning meat, but Cole was too panicked to realize this until it was too late.

Once the 'flames' had been vanquished, the meat was a sorry sight, the blackening and crunchy lump covered in an unappetizing layer of white foam from the fire extinguisher.

Cole gaped down at the pot in shock, numbly reaching over to turn the stove off before anything else could happen.

"We are in so much trouble," he breathed, unsure whether to laugh or to cry as he gazed down at what remained of their sorry attempt to cook a nice dinner.

Lyla's eyes were as wide as mini donuts as she hurried to the window nearest the stove to let in some fresh air, her nose wrinkling at the smell of the smoke.

"Do you think Mom would be offended if we got takeout instead?" she asked seriously.

This sent Cole into another round of laughter, and this time he laughed until tears began brimming in his eyes again, happy ones this time.

Lyla joined him, regardless of the fact that she didn't see anything funny about her inquiry, simply because her brother's joy was infectious, and it felt good to laugh.

Once Cole could catch his breath again, he scraped the disgusting mess into the trash can and went to the fridge to look for more supplies for soup.

"We still have some meat here- let's try it again and see if we have better luck. We'll keep a better eye on it this time, of course."

His sister frowned at this, like Cole she was torn between wanting to try again and never wanting to try it ever again.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked softly, and Cole found himself echoing her question in his own mind.

"No . . .?" he replied, the word coming out more like a question as he shrugged his shoulders. "But I want to try anyways."

Lyla smiled, her spirits lifting as she gazed up at her brother. "Then let's try it one more time. For Mom."

"For Mom," Cole repeated quietly, a bittersweet smile settling on his own face as he and Lyla started their soup from the beginning again, determined to carry on their family tradition no matter what.

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~ [3] ~

Many seasons passed, another summer had come and gone, and right on schedule, another autumn was arriving in the Brookstone home.

The kitchen was mostly quiet, except for the hard work that was being done to prepare a meal for the broken family, the one that seemed as if it were falling further and further apart every day.

Cole, who had been dragged along to another singing performance with their father for the afternoon, was missing, leaving Lyla alone to cook dinner.

The eldest Brookstone had been given the unfortunate 'pleasure' of accompanying Lou to his performance today, their father still set on trying to get Cole to enjoy the same things he did and, essentially, to be like him.

No amount of pleading, bargaining, or begging would persuade Lou to change his mind, so Cole had forced himself into a nice suit, even combed his hair, and plastered on a fake smile in an attempt to be supportive.

Lyla had stayed behind this time, excuses about needing to finish schoolwork and prepare dinner slipping quickly from her lips.

Cole had promised to be back as soon as he could. Any other day he would rather hide away in the kitchen with her, sheltered from the outside world, but especially today, he wanted to be there for his sister.

Over time, this day had become less difficult and painful, becoming more of a happy memory, a welcome connection to the better and brighter past that was now behind them, though it was still a hard day by nature- as family traditions or family memories without said family to share them with often are.

As Lyla chopped vegetables and stirred the soup like she had done countless times before, she found herself distracted by thoughts of the past and, inevitably, thoughts of the future.

Things were changing now. Who knew how many more of these first days of autumn they'd have together?

As of late, their father had been heavily hinting and implying that he was considering sending the two away to a boarding school as soon as Lyla was old enough, declaring they'd be 'happier' there, which couldn't be further from the truth.

The last thing she and Cole wanted was to leave this house, filled with happy memories and the last connection to their mother. To leave would be devastating and awful.

Until they could come up with a plan to change Lou's mind, however, they were stuck with that future imminently looming over their heads like a dark cloud, blocking out the sunlight and all of their hopes of some semblance of a happy future.

Though it was odd, and difficult, even, to make their traditional first day of autumn meal without Cole, she was surprised by how easy it was to slip into the routine of making it, even on her own.

She was content to be there in the kitchen, bouncing back and forth between schoolwork, the soup on the stove, and the bread in the oven, lost in her own little world.

Everything was peaceful, and the afternoon passed quickly, even without Cole there to share memories with, as they had become accustomed to doing while they cooked together.

Lost in her contemplation of both the past and future, Lyla practically dropped the bread she was pulling out of the oven when a terrific slam! from the front door shook the house and startled her out of her thoughts.

"What in the world?" she grumbled, heart rate finally settling to a healthy rhythm as she placed the bread carefully on top of the stove.

"Cole? Is that you?" the blonde girl called instinctively, though she was already quite sure that it was her brother that had decided to make such a grand entrance.

Loud grumbling from the hallway was all the response she got, which only confirmed her suspicions.

She rolled her eyes, the right corner of her mouth quirking up into an amused smile as she left her brother to his own devices, knowing it would only be a few moments before he made an appearance.

Sure enough, not even a full minute passed before Cole came trudging into the kitchen and plopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs in a rather dramatic fashion, his tie undone and messy, thick hair slicked unnaturally to his head, and a scowl on his face.

"That bad, huh?"

Her brother snorted, crossing his arms as he leaned back in his chair. "It was awful."

"You look awful," she countered, trying to lighten the mood a bit. "Too stuffy and unnatural."

"Because that's how I feel," he replied in irritation, yanking off his tie in a way that was much rougher than necessary.

Lyla wisely decided to say nothing in response, giving Cole space to rant while meanwhile cutting two small pieces of bread from the loaf on the stove for them to eat.

"The performance was long and suffocating, but the worst part was how everyone kept going on and on about how much I look like Dad, how 'big and manly I've gotten', and asking how long it'll be until I'm up there with him!"

He tugged at his dark hair in annoyance, all the pent-up anger from the afternoon tumbling out at once.

"Well- I'm tired of it all! What if I don't want to be a singer or a dancer? What if I don't have any clue what I want to be when I get older? What if I just want to be me?"

Cole's shoulders slumped at this admission, his voice becoming quiet as he spoke again. "I just want Dad to be proud of who I am, not who he wants me to be."

Lyla hummed softly in understanding, placing her brother's slice of fresh-baked bread on the table beside him before she gave him a gentle hug.

"Remember what Mom said?" she asked, pulling away from Cole so that she could gaze down at him, his darker eyes meeting her blue ones.

"Remember how she said that as long as we make the right choices for us, the ones we believe are right, that she and Dad would always be here to support us?"

Cole blinked, his eyes suddenly glossy. "But it's different now," he protested. "Everything's different now that she's gone."

"I know, but I think what she said still stands. And it should be true of any good parent," Lyla replied softly, taking her own slice of bread and sitting down on a chair beside her brother.

"I'm sure he's proud of you, and proud of us deep down in his heart. Some people just aren't very good at showing or communicating how much they care about others."

Cole just shrugged, biting into his piece of bread. They'd had this conversation many times before, sometimes with the roles reversed, but as much as they tried to believe the best of their father, and believe that their mother's words were true, it was often difficult.

Her brother was quiet for a moment, his anger dissipating with each moment that passed. She could see the tension lessening in his shoulders, the lines on his forehead fading slightly as he finished his slice of bread.

"That's really good," he finally mumbled. "How's the soup coming along?"

Lyla smiled, finishing the last of her own bread as she hopped up from her chair. "It's already finished, just keeping warm on the stove. So, you want to eat now?" 

"Yeah, that would be great. I can help you get out the dishes and stuff," Cole replied, getting up as well.

"That would be great, thank you."

The two of them worked quietly and quickly, and within minutes the soup had been ladled into dishes and the bread cut.

Lyla untied the sunflower apron that her mother had worn on days like today, only a few years ago, then she and her brother settled down at the table to eat together.

Their father had gone out to dinner with his singing group, which gave Cole and Lyla plenty of time to talk and share memories of autumns past and of their mother, who has shared this tradition with them so long ago.

"Isn't it weird how food can be linked to certain memories?" Lyla asked, blowing gently on her spoonful of soup to cool it.

"It is weird," Cole mumbled in agreement, not bothering to even attempt to cool his soup, but instead spooning it quickly into his mouth without pausing to do much else.

"Maybe that's why comfort foods are a thing- maybe we have a good memory connected to each one of our favorite foods that we don't even know about," he said after a moment.

Lyla smiled at the surprisingly deep thought from her brother. "I like that idea," she murmured.

"But- does that mean that you have some strong memories connected to cake from when you were very small? Mom always said that you were eating cake before you could talk."

Cole rolled his eyes at this. "I think she was probably exaggerating about that. There's no way she would have let me eat cake when I was a baby."

"Not unless you got into some when you weren't supposed to- which you still do now. Come on, I totally think that's what happened! Try and convince me otherwise!"

"I won't," he grumbled. "Because I'll lose."

She swatted his arm playfully, to which he responded by whacking her back. That's how things devolved into a mini wrestling match in the kitchen, and how they ended up with soup on the ceiling- a tradition they voted not to continue.

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~ [4] ~

When it came time for their first day of autumn in the monastery, to say that Lyla was excited to continue an old tradition in their new home was an understatement. She was practically beside herself with anticipation about it.

She was looking forward to not just making the soup and bread, but also to bringing the others into this tradition and sharing it with them, and had been making plans days before that time finally came.

"So . . . what are we doing again?" Jay asked, a look of utmost confusion on his face as he peered down at the faded and tattered recipe card in front of him.

Zane, who always had an answer for everything, was quick to reply with one of his witty remarks.

"It would appear that we have been tasked with aiding in the culinary process that is making a soup together as a sort of bonding experience."

"I know that!" Jay retorted, his freckled cheeks flushed with annoyance. "What I meant to say was why- why are we doing this?"

Cole snickered, looking up from the pot of soup he was stirring on the stove. "Like we told you, Bolt Brain, it's a family tradition."

"Ohhhh. What exactly are-"

"A family tradition is an activity or pattern of behavior that reflects a family's values, interests, or beliefs. Once established, it will hopefully be passed down through the generations. It represents your specific family unit and is like your own family culture. It-"

"Zane! Would you stop it!" Jay snapped. "Your photographic memory weirds me out sometimes- I swear you're like a robot half the time!"

He sighed and rubbed his forehead before continuing: "I wasn't going to ask about what family traditions are- I was gonna ask Cole what we're supposed to do after we put the celery in!"

"Oh. My apologies," Zane replied softly, unfazed by Jay's attitude and high decibel level. "I thought you required enlightening again."

"Heyyyy-" Jay whined indignantly, dragging out the monosyllabic word longer than what was generally considered acceptable. "What do you mean again?!" 

"Guys- come on!" Lyla interjected, trying to stop a full-out war before it was too late. She cracked the oven door briefly to check on the bread, then turned to face the three ninja-in-training who stood nearby her.

"Let's focus on getting this finished so we can eat. You want to eat, don't you?"

She might be the youngest person there, the only girl, and had no actual authority over them, yet she knew her way around the kitchen and around them. She had grown up with Cole, after all.

Her choice of words struck a chord with them, especially Cole and Jay, who valued food more than a lot of other things.

"Fine- I'll wait until later to beat Zane's butt in training," Jay conceded reluctantly, shuffling his feet as he looked back at the recipe card on the table.

"You wish," Cole mumbled loud enough for the auburn-haired teen to hear, whose head quickly snapped up again as he shot a glare at Cole- one that if looks could kill, would have had the raven-haired teen murdered a long time ago, as a result of almost daily being aimed in his direction.

Lyla fixed her gaze firmly on her brother, one eyebrow raised as she placed her hands on her hips. "Cole, I heard that."

The guilty earth-ninja-in-training shrunk back a bit under his sister's intense expression, wisely offering to help by grabbing the carrots and potatoes for the soup.

She smiled to herself, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face as she checked the pot out of habit, making sure Cole hadn't burned the soup again, then came to assist Jay and Zane with the recipe.

"Do you two want to help chop vegetables?" Lyla asked, glancing between the teens in front of her.

Jay shrugged one shoulder, pouting slightly. "I would, but Zane's so much better than me at it. Maybe I can peel the carrots? Or supervise?" he ventured with some hesitation.

Zane tilted his head. "I do not require supervision to chop vegetables. Considering my track record of having sustained 0 injuries in this kitchen since arriving at the monastery, I believe I am quite capable of accomplishing this task on my own. You and Cole on the other hand-"

"Okay! Okay!" Jay interrupted, holding up his hands in surrender. "Stop rubbing it in! I'll help peel the carrots instead! Geez!" 

He stalked off with an offended air to find Cole, while Zane just stared after him in confusion, glancing over in Lyla's direction for an explanation.

"Is something the matter? I was just stating the facts, I did not mean to offend."

She smiled a little and shook her head. "It's alright, Zane. As we've learned, Jay and Cole aren't always fans of the facts- especially the ones regarding themselves."

"Ah. I think I understand," Zane replied, offering the blonde girl a small smile as he went to retrieve a cutting board and knife.

With no small amount of bickering, Cole and Jay were able to get the potatoes and carrots washed (to Lyla's specifications), and then went about their separate tasks of either helping Zane to cut the potatoes or peeling the carrots.

"Do you think these are enough potatoes for all of us?" Cole asked no one in particular, studying the small mountain of potatoes between the two cutting boards.

Methodically chopping potatoes into even, perfect slices, Zane didn't even look up from his work to answer Cole.

"A healthy serving of potatoes is about one cup of diced, mashed, or baked potatoes- or one medium sized boiled potato per person. We should have more than enough here."

Cole rolled his eyes. "Wow- thanks Zane. I always wanted to know that," he said sarcastically. " 'Healthy servings' don't apply to growing teen boys anyways- it's common sense."

Zane's brow furrowed. "I am not familiar with this form of 'common sense'. We should all be eating a balanced diet- perhaps if you actually ate your vegetables then you wouldn't be hungry all of the time."

"Ooooooooooh!" Jay gasped from the sink, while Lyla stifled her laughter from where she stood by the stove. "He's got you there, Dirt Boy! Better get some ice for that burn!"

"Shut up, Jay. You know that applies to you too!" Cole snapped, sinking back into his chair in a poor attempt to hide from the others.

"Burn? What burn?" Zane asked, studying the other teen in concern. "I am not aware of any injuries caused by exposure to heat or flame that Cole could have sustained in the last few minutes."

This just sent Jay and Lyla into peals of laughter, even prompting a smile from Cole before he hid it with a forced scowl.

"It's a slang term, Zane!" Jay managed to get out in between laughs. "People use it if someone makes a really good comeback or insult that leaves the other person with no way to respond- usually it's in response to something that's really humiliating or insulting- like that!"

"Oh." Zane perked up a bit. "I do remember talking about some 'slang terms'. It would appear that in this instance, Cole is being salty."

This, of course, sent everyone into another round of laughter, even Cole himself. Zane just smiled and went back to his vegetable chopping, pleased to have made what he hoped was a joke and honestly not caring that he still didn't understand slang terms.

Jay dabbed at the tears in his eyes, gasping dramatically for air as he came down from his laughter high. "Zane- you're the best. That was great."

The ice-ninja-in-training's smile brightened at this, his blue eyes shimmering warmly. "Thank you, Jay. Now- whenever you're finished with the carrots can you bring them over here? I have finished with my pile of potatoes."

"Already?" Cole asked in surprise, glancing down at his own pile. "I've barely started on mine yet."

"To be fair, I have been working this whole time while you have been . . . distracted," Zane replied. "Plus, I am rather speedy when it comes to chopping vegetables."

"Maybe I'm still recovering from the last time I tried to cut potatoes and I nearly lost my finger," Cole countered, studying the newly-formed scar on his right thumb for good measure.

Zane raised one platinum blonde eyebrow. "If you were more careful with all kitchen equipment then you might have better luck avoiding injuries while cooking."

"Good luck with that, I've been giving him the same speech since we were younger," Lyla butted in, smiling as she helped Jay by carrying a handful of carrots to the table.

"She's right." Her brother smiled sheepishly, turning his attention back to the potatoes he was supposed to be cutting.

The four of them continued working in relative quiet, at least compared to their norm, a stray conversation shared or memory brought up between them on a few occasions.

With how busy the three boys had been with their ninja training and all of the odd tasks that Sensei Wu was constantly finding for them, it was rare that they were able to spend time together as a group for something like this, but especially with Lyla, who, though she was not a ninja, had just as important a place on their team.

In fact, this was one of the very first times the four of them had attempted to cook something together, certainly going down for the record as a learning experience.

Working together in close proximity to accomplish a common goal brought them closer together, not just as a team, but as a family.

Each one of the teenagers had come from a different background, bringing with them their own hardships and trials along with the good memories and silly stories, and both aspects of their lives were shared with each other in times like these.

It was a beautiful thing how this little tradition had been adapted throughout the years as Cole and Lyla's lives were constantly changing, and had now grown to accommodate new family members in the form of Jay and Zane, as well as Sensei Wu.

Lily would be happy, they had decided.

| ~ ° 🍂 ° ~ | 

~ [5] ~

This first day of autumn was a chilly one, the breeze outside somehow making its way inside through every crack and crevice of the Destiny's Bounty.

Lyla wasn't bothered by the cold, having taken shelter underneath a warm sweater, and was concentrated on keeping an eye on both the meat cooking on the stove and kneading the bread dough on the kitchen table.

As she worked the dough with her hands, she suddenly became aware of another presence in the kitchen, and looked up to see a small boy with blonde hair and reddish brown eyes come wandering into the room.

"What are you making?" he asked curiously, studying the odd lump of dough beneath her palms and the flour that was all over both her apron and the table.

She smiled, not pausing her work as she answered: "I'm making bread and soup for dinner. To celebrate the first day of autumn."

"Autumn?" he echoed. "What's that?"

"It's another word for Fall- like, the season Fall," Lyla clarified, carefully shaping the dough into a smooth ball.

"Right . . . I knew that." He sat down on one of the chairs across the table to watch her, mesmerized. "But what do soup and bread have to do with fall?"

Satisfied with her ball of dough, she transferred it to an oiled bowl to rise, then covered the bowl and placed it on a nearby counter before she turned back to the blonde-haired boy to answer his question.

"It's a tradition my mom shared with me," she explained softly. "Until she died, every year on the first day of autumn, she would make soup and bread for us. It's something she did with her mom when she was a little girl, and something I want to do with my own kids one day."

"But we're still kids now, aren't we?" Lloyd countered, unimpressed by, or (more likely) unable to understand the idea or appeal of a family tradition.

Lyla laughed, dusting off her hands on her apron. "I suppose you're right. But it's never too early to think about the future."

"I guess so," Lloyd replied hesitantly, sticking his hands into the pockets of his black hoodie to keep them warm.

She smiled and began cleaning up the flour on the table, as well as the ingredients that were still out from her bread making earlier. "What have you been up to this afternoon?"

He shifted a little in his chair, a somewhat guilty expression on his face. "I was reading comics until I got bored of them, and then helping Nya with her Samurai X mech."

Lyla looked over at him intently, picking up on the past tense of his words. "What do you mean, was?" she questioned.

"Well . . ." Lloyd chuckled sheepishly, his eyes fixed on a very interesting spot on the kitchen table. "I was kinda annoying Nya, so she kicked me out. She said I was asking too many questions- that she couldn't even hear herself think."

She smiled softly, her blue eyes flickering with amusement. "That doesn't sound like you at all," she teased.

"I know, right?" he responded with a smile of his own, a mischievous one that reminded her of his days at Darkley's Boarding School for a split second.

"Plus . . . I may or may not have already found and eaten the candy she was planning to bribe me with today . . . so that just made her more annoyed."

"Really?" Lyla covered her mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh, failing miserably. "You know- one of these days your sweet tooth is going to get the better of you."

Lloyd shrugged. "It's a coping mechanism," he said seriously (he must have gotten that from one of the others), but this time his words made Lyla suddenly serious instead of laughing.

"Still- it's not good to eat sugar all the time. Just balance it out with healthier or less processed foods, stuff like what I'm making right now."

The blonde boy scowled, crossing his arms. "You're not my mom," he muttered darkly, instinctively- though as soon as he spoke a look of regret immediately flashed across his face.

"I'm sorry, Lyla. I didn't mean it."

She blinked, her hurt expression softening as he spoke. "I know. I'm sure I overstep sometimes, but it's just because I care about you."

Lloyd sunk further into his seat, his own expression miserable now after realizing the effect his careless words had had on her. "You guys do a lot for me, more than I deserve," he mumbled.

"It's just that sometimes- it feels like I went from having no parents to suddenly having seven of them. Everyone's always telling me what I should or shouldn't do and it's not fun. I made it on my own for a while, and I managed."

There was no petulance in his voice, just an uncharacteristic, soft seriousness that indicated he'd probably been thinking about this for a while now.

Lyla hummed quietly. "I know, Lloyd. That must be difficult for you, but you do handle it well most of the time. Better than I would anyways. I know it's hard."

She opened her arms for a hug, and Lloyd hopped down from his chair, walking over so that he could throw his arms around the taller girl and hide his face in her shirt, clinging tightly onto her for comfort.

"Cole and I had to make it on our own for a while, too," Lyla murmured, wrapping her arms around Lloyd, holding the small boy close as she gently stroked his hair in soothing motions.

"I know how hard it is, how lonely it gets- I even had Cole to keep me company but I still wanted a real home and a family to care for me," she continued, taking a breath to ease the tightness that had begun to form around her throat.

"Our circumstances were different from yours, of course, but in a lot of ways, everyone here can relate to you and understand a little bit of what you feel. Jay grew up without a ton of friends and pretty isolated in his parents' junkyard, Cole, Nya, Kai, and I all lost our parents at a young age, and Zane never even knew his parents.

It really sucks that we have that stuff in common, but that's just how life is sometimes. What matters isn't the awful or hard things that have happened in our past- it's that we have each other now, we're all here together and part of own, new family."

She smiled a little, gazing down at Lloyd. "All families are messy and complicated, have some things they need to work through, and we're no exception. But all the work and love we put into it is worth it, I promise."

The blonde boy was quiet for several moments before he finally looked up at her, and though his eyes were still glossy he seemed happier now.

"Thanks, Lyla."

"Of course," she replied gently, reaching down to ruffle his hair in a playful manner. "Now- why don't you give me a hand. Can you find some vegetables you think would be good for the soup?"

"Okay," Lloyd said with some reluctance, attempting to fix his hair as he wandered off in the direction of the fridge.

Lyla went to check the meat on the stove, then grabbed a cutting board from under the counter and put it on the table. "Find anything yet?" she called.

Lloyd appeared from the doorway of the fridge, his nose wrinkled in disgust. "I found a ton of green beans."

"Oh, great! We can use those."

"But I hate green beans," he declared vehemently. "I hate them more than almost any other vegetable- besides spinach."

She raised one eyebrow, mentally filing that away for later. "Okay then- we don't have to use the green beans. Grab some carrots and peppers instead. Plus one large onion."

He nodded and ducked back into the fridge, returning with the aforementioned vegetables and placing them by her cutting board. "Is that enough?"

"That's more than enough, thank you," she replied, placing them in a colander and heading to the sink. "Do you know where the potatoes are in the pantry?"

"I think so," Lloyd replied with a grin, heading off to grab them. "Only because Jay tried to stash his candy behind the potato bin one time."

Now it was Lyla's turn to wrinkle her nose. "That doesn't sound pleasant."

"It wasn't!" he agreed with a shout from the pantry doorway. "How many potatoes do you want?"

"9 or 10 good-sized ones!" she called back.

Lloyd soon returned with the potatoes stashed in his hoodie, holding it by the corners like an apron in an attempt to contain the escaping tubers. "Here. Now what?"

Lyla placed the clean peppers and onion on her cutting board, then offered him the colander full of carrots. "Can I trust you to skin these without skinning your finger again?"

"Of course!" he chirped, dumping the potatoes onto the table in a rather careless fashion and reaching for the carrots.

Lyla held out a hand for him to wait. "First take your hoodie off since it's covered in dirt now, then wash your hands. And for goodness sake- please tell me if you do cut your finger instead of trying to hide it."

Lloyd rolled his eyes, tugging off the offending article of clothing before he headed over to the sink. "That was one time, Lya!"

"Still- I'd rather not end up with a mess like that again," she replied, gathering up the potatoes to wash them as well.

Satisfied once she knew that Lloyd was at least not in immediate danger of hurting himself (if he continued to proceed as carefully as he was), Lyla settled down at the table to begin her vegetable cutting.

"What time are the others getting back from their ninja mission?" Lloyd asked, looking over in her direction.

"Eyes on what you're doing," she replied instinctively, before fixing her gaze on the clock above the counter. "Any minute now, actually. Hopefully soon- I asked Cole to grab celery and butter on the way back and we need them both for dinner."

"Cool." It was quiet in the corner by the sink after that, except for the sounds of Lloyd's work on the carrots.

Lyla cut up the onions and peppers into even slices, placing them in separate bowls to the side as she began working on the potatoes.

After a few precious minutes of relative silence, Lloyd spoke up again.

"Hey Lyla?"

"Yes, Lloyd?" she replied, glancing briefly in his direction while still retaining a steady and even hand with the knife.

The blonde boy paused in his work, looking over at her with a small frown. "Does this mean I get to be part of your family tradition?"

Lyla smiled, blinking back the tears that had begun to form in her eyes as she found herself overwhelmed by an emotion she couldn't place- a bittersweet tangle of both happiness and sadness.

"Yes, Lloyd. I suppose it does," she replied, her voice catching in her throat.

He smiled too, apparently satisfied with that answer. "It's my very first family tradition, then. And I like it," he declared, turning back to his work.

That did it for Lyla. She ended up bursting into silent tears, her heart swelling with joy and gratitude at the realization that she was able to bring Lloyd into this tradition now, too- giving him something normal and special just like this had always been for her.

When Cole finally made his way into the kitchen no more than fifteen minutes later, he seemed surprised to find Lloyd still in the process of helping Lyla with the soup preparations.

"Hey, Lya- I'm back!" he greeted, dropping several grocery bags onto the cleanest looking counter before he wandered over to join them at the stove.

"Mmmm- it smells amazing in here!" The raven-haired teen announced, sniffing dramatically for good measure. He then turned to Lloyd with a grin, ruffling his blonde hair good-naturedly. "What'cha up to, squirt?"

Lloyd squeaked and backed up, attempting to fix his hair again, but not before he could land a decent punch on Cole's arm.

"Helping. I get to be part of a family tradition with you and Lyla this year," he replied proudly.

The taller boy beamed, his eyes suddenly misty as he gazed down at Lloyd. "That's great! Guess this means you're officially part of the family now."

"Really?" the blonde exclaimed, more excited and happy than the Earth Ninja had seen him in a long time.

"Really," Cole confirmed, glancing over at Lyla to find that she had the same proud, happy smile that graced his own face.

Not a year had gone by since Lily's death that they hadn't kept this tradition going, shared this same meal- whether just the two of them, only one of them, or some number of the whole team and family did the cooking.

And now they had the blessing of watching it grow through their friends, and through Lloyd today- which only added more happy memories to the treasure trove that they already had regarding this special day.

First Spinjitzu Master willing, they'd live to see many more days like today.

| ~ ° 🍂 ° ~ |

[ bonus : ]

the one time Lyla had to continue that tradition alone 

This soup, if you could even call it that, was rather pitiful- it was basically just a watery broth without enough vegetables and even less meat, but at least it was in better shape than the stale bread with small amounts of mold on a few of its slices- the precious last loaf from a corner store that was no longer open.

Even wrapped in multiple layers, Lyla could still feel the chilly autumn air as it came through the many cracks in the walls of their battered, makeshift little house, but it was nothing compared to the cold and empty ache in her heart.

Her shoulders drooping in exhaustion, the blonde woman studied a scrap of paper where she had written the recipe for their soup by memory- the original recipe cards lost long ago.

The sight of her own handwriting, a messy scrawl that looked foreign to her though she did remember writing those notes herself, was enough to make her emotional once again.

Memories of years past, laughter and joy, and the family that she no longer had came in one overwhelming wave, unexpected, crashing over her and throwing her under again.

Lyla brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob- her face contorting in pain as she sank to the floor, her legs finally giving out.

"I'm sorry!" she cried out, voice breaking as she hid her head in her hands, her entire body shaking as tears streamed down her face.

"I can't do it anymore!"

The young woman sobbed brokenly, pulling her knees against her chest as she huddled on the kitchen floor with her back against the cabinets, alone except for her thoughts.

Unsure how long she cried, lost in a storm of grief and hurt, Lyla wondered if she could even get up again, she was so completely and utterly drained- physically, mentally, and emotionally.

Eventually, she became aware of someone standing right in front of her, and looked up unsteadily, her head swimming, only to see P.I.X.A.L. gazing down at her in concern.

"Lyla, are you alright?" the nindroid asked gently, reaching to turn down the burner on the stove before she fixed her full attention on the blonde woman huddled on the floor.

"I was keeping guard when I heard the sounds of your distress. Is there anything that I can do to help you?"

Lyla attempted to speak, but no words would come, so she just shook her head as she tried in vain to stop the tears still coursing down her cheeks.

P.I.X.A.L. frowned at this, only looking more concerned. "I believe Master Lloyd is already on his way back- would you like me to ask him to hurry?"

She only shook her head more fervently- the last thing she wanted to do was bother Lloyd.

"Or I could let [Redacted (*because spoilers*)] or Nya know instead," the female nindroid offered quietly, mistaking Lyla's refusal as wanting to avoid Lloyd.

"I'll be fine, Pix," the blonde finally managed to get out, though she was anything but convincing.

"You are not fine," P.I.X.A.L. replied immediately, her tone somehow both firm and kind at the same time.

"It is completely normal to experience feelings of grief or pain after the loss of a loved one- or, in this case, the loss of several loves ones. What you are feeling is to be expected, especially given your current physical condition, lack of nutrition and sleep, as well as your energy levels."

She slowly crouched down until she was eye level with the blonde, her expression softening. "I too miss the others, as do Lloyd and Nya. You are not alone in this."

"I know," Lyla whispered, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater. Her eyes were red-rimmed and glossy, a few stray tears still making their way down her cheeks.

P.I.X.A.L. placed a gentle hand on the blonde woman's shoulder, then straightened up. "I will get you a bottle of water. Is there anything else that you require?"

Lyla shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself tightly as she attempted to take a deep breath. "No, thank you."

"Of course."

P.I.X.A.L. paused to give the soup a quick stir, then left the kitchen, leaving the blonde alone again, silence settling over the room except for the occasional sniffle or shaky inhale.

After a moment or two, the female nindroid returned with a bottle of water, offering it to the young woman still on the floor.

"Would you like me to remain here with you? Perhaps it would be useful to talk things out. I do not want to leave you here alone if that would cause you more distress."

Lyla managed a tiny smile at those words, taking a sip of water before she answered: "I'll be alright, Pix. I promise. I just need some time to process things on my own, is all."

P.I.X.A.L. nodded in understanding, a small smile forming on her own face. "Of course. I will be upstairs if you need anything at all- please don't hesitate to call for me."

"Thank you," Lyla murmured, her eyes fluttering closed as she tilted her head back to rest it on the cabinet door behind her, a feeling of emptiness and numbness settling inside of her.

She was not aware of the female nindroid's retreating footsteps, and honestly, she was too exhausted to even care- so completely and utterly drained.

The smell of the soup still cooking haunted her, bringing back memories of her beloved older brother and of the life they had shared together- how he'd been there for her even when everything else has fallen apart.

Even when they had nothing, they'd always had each other.

She remembered his embrace, the strong arms that could pick her up like she was nothing more than a paperweight, and the tenderness and love he had for her that beautifully contrasted his power and vicious determination against all of the bad guys they'd faced together.

His laugh, the way he looked at her, the private smiles they shared and the schemes they pulled together, all of it- gone.

It hadn't even been two months since he and the others had been killed, the Destiny's Bounty crushed into tiny pieces by the hands of Garmadon's Colossus.

Cole, Kai, Jay, Zane, Sensei Wu- all of them, gone- leaving behind a broken band of survivors and loved ones to cope with the incredible loss in their wake.

Their once beautiful city, now an apocalyptic wasteland- evil running rampant and almost completely unchecked due to the lack of people willing to stand up and face the ones behind everything, leaving the few remaining ninja to pick up what pieces they could, while also just trying to stay alive themselves.

This daily fight for survival has taken a toll on their bedraggled little group. Their spirits were low, as well as their energy, most of the former team were missing, and their fearless leader had become little more than a shell of his former self, so completely beaten down by everything that had happened to them.

How much more could they take?

Days like today, when something served as a reminder of their previous life and the friends they'd lost, were the hardest. Reminders of the life they could never have again.

Too worn out to even cry anymore, Lyla just sat there and let the tears slip down her cheeks and allowed her mind to wander to things like autumns past, happy memories, and the way that things had been before; these thoughts a welcome escape from the real world.

Some time later, she was suddenly startled out of her current state by the sound of a familiar voice calling her name.

"Lyla? Lyla?" Lloyd's voice became more frantic as she didn't answer at first, soon becoming louder as he finally made his way to the kitchen. "Lyla?! Are you in here?"

"I'm here, Lloyd," she tried to call back to him, her voice sounding small and pitiful in the otherwise quiet kitchen.

As always, though, he heard her.

The Green Ninja made his way over to Lyla, his expression one of mingled relief at having found her and distress at seeing her in her current state.

"There you are," he murmured, his tone softening as he crouched down to her level, assessing her tearstained cheeks and red eyes, the exhaustion that matched his own.

He smiled sadly, reaching out to brush away one of her tears with a thumb before he cupped her chin with his hand, tilting her head up so that her crystal blue eyes could meet his steady gaze.

"Rough day?" he asked in a quiet voice, studying her face with his reddish brown eyes. Eyes that were no longer the emerald green she had grown so used to.

Lyla nodded once, ashamed at the fresh tears now welling up in her eyes. "I was just trying to make soup like we always did- I was already emotional today and that was the last straw . . ." Her voice broke with this admission. 

"It's just- I miss them all so much."

Lloyd's own eyes were watery now. "I know, Lya. I miss them too- so much," he mumbled thickly, his shoulders sagging.

"I miss them so damn much- to the point where every day is a struggle- but we've gotta keep going."

He rubbed his eyes with a hand in an attempt to keep the tears at bay, swallowing before he continued: "Like you've said before, we've gotta keep going in their honor- win this thing for them."

Lyla blinked, nodding once more. "You're right. And we'll do it together," she promised quietly, earning a tiny smile from Lloyd.

"Together," he echoed, one tear slipping down his cheek as he held out his arms for an embrace, perhaps seeking his own comfort just as much as he wished to help Lyla.

She didn't hesitate, finally finding the strength to will her limbs and body to move again, practically falling forward into his open arms.

Lloyd caught her, his strong arms pulling her into a gentle hug and close to his chest. She looped her arms around his waist, letting out a shuddering breath as she buried her face in the front of his ninja gi, clinging to him as if he were her lifeline.

The battered Green Ninja just pulled the blonde woman closer, letting out a shaky breath of his own as he rested his chin gently on top of her head.

"You deserve so much better than this," he murmured, voice tinged with regret and hurt. "You all do. I'm so sorry about everything."

"It's not your fault. We've been over this before." Lyla closed her eyes, letting the rhythm of his heartbeat calm her. "We're a team, all of us. None of us are leaving you anytime soon- we're with you until the end."

Lloyd hummed in gratitude, rubbing comforting circles on her back. "You're amazing, you know that, right?" he replied, his throat tightening with emotion. "Cole would be so proud of you."

Lyla chuckled softly in an attempt to keep back tears, a sad smile flitting across her lips. "He'd be proud of you, too," she whispered. "They all would."

Lloyd pressed a featherlight kiss to the top of her head, letting his lips linger for another moment before he eventually pulled away.

"Do you remember how years and years ago, you introduced me to your first day of autumn family traditions?" he asked.

Lyla smiled a little despite herself. "When you were still small and annoying? Yes, I do remember that."

"Hey- so were you," he joked, though his tone soon became more serious as he spoke again. "I was so happy to be included with you and Cole in something like that- it meant a lot to a kid like me who'd grown up without a family of my own."

He pulled away from their hug to gaze down at Lyla, taking both of her hands in his gently.

"Remember how you talked about all the good memories attached to today- how you still kept it up even after your mom died, and how you were going to continue it with your own kids one day?"

She blinked uncertainly. "Yeah- I guess so. What does that have to do with this?"

Lloyd smiled, squeezing her hands as his eyes became watery again. "Don't you see? That's what we're doing right now. Continuing the tradition with your own family- with me, with [Redacted], Nya, the others- we're still here together now, and we're still a family, broken as we are.

And all the work and love we put into it is worth it," he finished, his smile widening a bit.

Lyla's own eyes filled with fresh tears, this time tears of gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Lloyd hummed, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the blonde woman's forehead before he released her hands, unsteadily pulling himself to his feet and offering her a hand up.

She accepted the help, managing to stand on shaky legs as the ache in her heart faded from a brilliant and sharp pain to a dull throb, always lingering in the back of her mind.

"I think the soup should be ready now," she finally spoke, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. "I don't know when the others will get back, but we can eat now if you're hungry."

"I am a little hungry," Lloyd admitted with a small chuckle. "I'll get the bowls if you want to check on the soup."

Once everything was ready, Lyla carefully spooned the soup into bowls for her and Lloyd, placing them with a slice of bread on the little table in the corner.

The two of them sat down together to eat, hesitant at first but eventually giving in to their hunger after the initial difficult spoonful, some of the ache fading away as they continued to eat. 

It wasn't long before the others returned, taking their places at the table to with Lloyd and Lyla.

The meal was much-needed, not just for nourishment but also for fellowship- the sharing of memories, the laughter that echoed throughout the kitchen even more so- each of them willing to be a little bit vulnerable and to share how they had been feeling as of late.

Through this meal, they became a little more united, received new strength, and had an even stronger resolve to finish this for the family they'd lost- to fight for the end of this terrible darkness and allow healing at long last.