Jade was attempting to sit up properly when he heard footsteps approaching the clinic—multiple sets, hurried but trying not to sound urgent.
His heart rate kicked up slightly, and he cursed the lingering sensitivity from the heat. Everything still felt too much—sounds too loud, his skin too aware of the sheets against it, his emotions too close to the surface.
The door opened, and Selene swept in first, her emerald eyes bright with relief and something else—warmth, affection, and a hint of amusement that made Jade's stomach drop.
"Oh, darling," she said, crossing to him quickly. "You're really awake. Properly awake."
"I'm—" Jade's voice came out rougher than intended, and he cleared his throat. "I'm okay."
Selene sat on the edge of the bed without asking permission, her hand coming up to cup his cheek gently. Her touch was warm, maternal, and Jade felt his face heat for reasons that had nothing to do with fever.
She'd been here. Through all of it. She'd heard—
"Don't," Selene said softly, reading his expression with uncanny accuracy. "Don't you dare be embarrassed.It's natural, and there's no shame in that."
But Jade's face was definitely burning now, because shame and logic were two very different things, and he was a forty-five-year-old man who'd just spent four days making sounds he didn't even want to think about while people took care of him.
"I'm grateful," he managed, his silver eyes unable to quite meet hers. "For everything you did. I know it couldn't have been easy."
"It wasn't," Selene agreed, her tone matter-of-fact but gentle. "But I'd do it again. You're precious to me, Jade. To all of us."
Before Jade could respond, Gorvoth entered, his scarred face as unreadable as ever. He stood near the doorway, giving Jade space, but his presence filled the room with quiet strength.
Jade's mortification intensified tenfold.
Gorvoth had carried him. While he was writhing and—
"Good to see you conscious." Gorvoth said, his gravelly voice cutting through Jade's spiraling thoughts
Jade swallowed hard, his face feeling like it might actually combust. "I—thank you. For saving me. For—" His voice caught, and he had to force the words out. "For everything."
Gorvoth's expression didn't change, but something flickered in his eyes—understanding, perhaps. Respect. "You'd have done the same."
"Still," Jade said, his hands clenching in the sheets. "What you did— protecting me, keeping my—" He didn't finish, couldn't say the word 'secret' without acknowledging what that secret entailed and what Gorvoth had witnessed.
"I saw a boy in danger," Gorvoth said simply. "I eliminated the threat. Everything else is irrelevant."
The complete lack of judgment in his tone somehow made Jade's embarrassment worse, because it meant Gorvoth had seen everything and was choosing not to acknowledge it, which meant he remembered it all and was just being kind, which meant—
"Stop spiraling," Selene said with amusement clear in her voice. "I can literally smell your anxiety spiking."
Jade shot her a mortified look, which only made her smile wider.
"Oh, darling, it's natural. Your body's still settling. Everything's going to feel overwhelming for a few more days." She reached out and ruffled his hair affectionately, completely unbothered by his embarrassment. "Besides, we're family. There's nothing to be ashamed of."
Family. The word settled something in Jade's chest, even as his face remained stubbornly hot.
Amara appeared in the doorway then, her expression soft with relief. "Jade. Thank the gods."
"Amara," Jade said, grateful for the distraction from his own embarrassment. "I'm sorry you had to—that everyone had to deal with—"
"Don't," Amara said firmly, moving closer. "Don't apologize for needing help."
But Jade could see the exhaustion in her face, the worry-lines that hadn't been there before. And he realized with a pang that they'd all been carrying this weight—watching him suffer, unable to do much except wait.
"Thank you," he said quietly, meeting each of their gazes in turn despite how much it cost him. "All of you."
"There's no debt," Niamh said from the doorway, having returned with fresh water. "You're our family, Jade. We take care of our own."
Jade's throat tightened, and he had to blink rapidly against the sting in his eyes. A forty-five-year-old gangster, crying because people cared about him. Pathetic.
Except it wasn't. Because in his previous life, loyalty had been bought with fear and violence. And here, these people had stayed beside him through something humiliating and vulnerable, had seen him at his absolute worst, and they were still here. Still looking at him with love.
"I don't deserve you," Jade whispered.
"Nonsense," Selene said briskly, though her eyes were suspiciously bright. "You absolutely do. Now, have you eaten anything? You must be starving."
As if summoned by her words, Jade's stomach growled audibly, and despite everything, he felt his face flush again.
Everyone laughed—warm, relieved laughter that broke some of the tension in the room.
"I'll get food," Amara said, smiling. "Something light to start."
As she moved toward the door, Jade's eyes swept the room again, counting. Niamh. Selene. Gorvoth. Amara.
"Where's Lio?" he asked, his voice sharpening slightly with concern.
The mood in the room shifted immediately. Selene and Niamh exchanged glances, and Amara's expression fell.
"Training," Amara said quietly. "He's been training almost non-stop since—" She couldn't finish.
"Since he woke up and realized what had happened," Niamh supplied gently. "He's taking it hard, Jade."
Jade's jaw tightened. "What do you mean 'taking it hard'? There was nothing he could do."
"Logic doesn't cure guilt," Selene said with a sigh. She settled more comfortably on the bed, clearly preparing to explain. "Your dear brother has decided that being gassed and knocked unconscious was a personal failure, and he's been punishing himself for it ever since."
"That's ridiculous—"
"Of course it is," Selene agreed. "But he won't listen to any of us. He barely talks, barely eats, just trains like he's trying to fight off demons." She gave Jade a meaningful look. "He needs to hear from you that you don't blame him."
Jade was already pushing the blankets aside, trying to swing his legs over the edge of the bed.
"Whoa, hold on," Niamh said, moving quickly to steady him. "You just woke up. You're not recovered enough to—"
"I'm fine," Jade said, even as his legs trembled slightly when they took his weight. The after-effects of the heat made everything feel slightly off-balance, his body still too sensitive, but he could manage. He had to manage.
"You're not fine," Niamh said firmly. "You're barely steady."
"Then I'll be unsteady," Jade said, his voice taking on that stubborn edge that meant arguing was pointless. "But I'm not letting that block head torture himself over something that wasn't his fault."
Selene laughed softly. "Stubborn. Just like your brother." She stood, offering her arm. "At least let someone help you walk."
Jade wanted to refuse—wanted to prove he was fine, that he was back to normal, that the heat hadn't weakened him. But his legs were definitely shaking, and pride wasn't worth falling on his face.
"Fine," he conceded, accepting Selene's support.
Together, they made their way slowly out of the clinic. Jade's steps were careful, measured, his body still adjusting to being upright after four days of fever-wracked unconsciousness. But he was moving. That was what mattered.
They crossed the workshop, and Jade could feel eyes on him—apprentices working quietly but watching him with relief and curiosity. He kept his gaze forward, unwilling to see whatever expressions they wore. He'd deal with that later.
Selene guided him to the back door that led to the training courtyard. Through the window, Jade could see Lio—moving through combat forms with mechanical precision, his wind manipulation flaring around him in unstable bursts.
"He's been like this for four days," Selene said quietly. "Amara's tried everything. He won't stop. Won't rest properly. He's running himself into the ground."
Jade's chest tightened with a mixture of frustration and affection. "Idiot," he muttered.
"Your idiot," Selene said with a small smile. "Now go fix him. I'll be inside if you need me."
She released his arm, and Jade steadied himself before pushing open the door.
.....
The late afternoon air was cool against his skin—almost too cool, his body's temperature regulation still off. Jade ignored the discomfort and stepped into the courtyard.
Lio didn't notice him at first, too focused on his forms. Strike. Block. Dodge. Wind spiraling around him in sharp, angry bursts. His movements were technically correct but lacked his usual fluid grace. He was exhausted, his body moving on determination alone.
"Lio," Jade said quietly.
Lio froze mid-strike, his entire body going rigid. Slowly, he turned, and the expression on his face made Jade's heart ache.
Guilt. Self-loathing. Relief. Fear. All tangled together in a way that made Lio look years older than seventeen.
"Jade," Lio breathed. "You're—you're awake."
"I'm awake," Jade confirmed, taking a careful step closer. His legs were still unsteady, but he refused to show it. "And apparently, you've been trying to train yourself to death."
Lio's jaw clenched. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Jade said flatly. "You look terrible."
It was true. Lio's face was gaunt, dark circles under his eyes, his clothes hanging looser than they should. Four days of barely eating and constant training had taken a visible toll.
"I needed to get stronger," Lio said, his voice tight. "I needed to make sure I could—that next time I wouldn't—"
"Wouldn't what?" Jade interrupted. "Wouldn't get knocked unconscious by a chemical weapon specifically designed to incapacitate people?"
Lio flinched. "I should have been able to fight through it. I should have protected you."
"You were gassed," Jade said, his voice sharp with frustration. "There was nothing you could do. Nothing."
"I was right there!" Lio's voice cracked, years of careful control shattering. "and I couldn't do anything! That bastard could have done ....things to you , and I was just—just lying there unconscious and useless while you—"
His voice broke completely, and he turned away, his shoulders shaking.
Jade closed the distance between them, ignoring the way his legs protested. He grabbed Lio's shoulder and forced him to turn back around.
"Look at me," Jade said firmly.
Lio's eyes were red, tears streaming down his face that he didn't bother to wipe away.
"I don't blame you," Jade said clearly, making sure every word landed. "Not for a single second. Not for being unconscious. Not for failing to fight through a weapon that would have knocked out people twice your rank. None of this was your fault, Lio."
"But I—"
"No," Jade interrupted. "Listen to me. That piece of shit gassed you specifically so you couldn't fight back. He targeted Niamh and you, because he knew you'd both protect me. He 'planned' to take you out of the fight. And you know what? It didn't matter. Because Gorvoth showed up, and I'm alive, and that bastard is dead. We won, Lio. We survived."
"I should have been the one to protect you," Lio said, his voice raw. "I'm your brother. That's my job."
"Your job," Jade said, his own voice gentling, "is to be my brother. Not my bodyguard. Not my protector. 'Brother. That means sometimes you get hurt. Sometimes you can't save me. Sometimes other people have to step in. And that's okay."
Lio shook his head, but Jade tightened his grip on his shoulder.
"I need you alive and healthy more than I need you perfect," Jade said quietly. "Do you understand that? If you'd gotten yourself killed trying to fight through that gas, I'd have lost you. And that would have destroyed me more than anything that bastard could have done."
Lio's breath hitched, fresh tears spilling over.
"I'm sorry," Lio choked out. "I'm so sorry I couldn't—"
"Stop apologizing," Jade said, and pulled him into a hug.
Lio collapsed against him, his larger frame shaking with sobs he'd been holding back for four days. Jade held him, one hand pressed against the back of his head, the other wrapped around his shoulders, and let him break down.
"I was so scared," Lio gasped against Jade's shoulder. "When I woke up and saw the blood and realized what had almost happened—I thought I'd lost you. I thought—"
"I'm here," Jade said firmly. "I'm alive. We're both alive. That's what matters."
They stood like that for a long time, Lio crying out four days of guilt and terror, Jade holding him through it despite his own exhaustion.
Finally, Lio pulled back, wiping roughly at his face. "I still need to get stronger," he said, his voice hoarse but determined. "I need to be able to protect you better."
Jade wanted to argue , to tell him he didn't need protection. But after what happened days ago, he decided against it.
"Okay," Jade said simply. "Then I'll help you train. Properly. Not this self-destructive nonsense you've been doing."
Lio blinked, surprised. "You'd do that?"
"Of course I would," Jade said. "You're my brother aren't you ?. We make each other stronger. That's how this works."
Something in Lio's expression finally eased—not the guilt disappearing entirely, but hope pushing through it. "Okay. Yeah. Okay."
Jade stepped back, assessing him. "But first, you're going to eat. And sleep. Because right now, you look like a corpse, and I can't train someone who's half-dead."
Lio huffed out a weak laugh—the first hint of his usual self breaking through. "You're one to talk. You just woke up from four days of—" He stopped abruptly, his face flushing. "Uh. Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"Don't," Jade said quickly, his own face heating again. "Let's just... not talk about that."
"Deal," Lio said immediately, clearly relieved.
They stood in awkward silence for a moment, both acutely aware of what they weren't discussing, before Jade cleared his throat.
"So," he said, desperate to change the subject. "Show me what you've been working on. Before we go inside."
Lio hesitated. "You should rest—"
"I've been resting for four days," Jade said. "Show me."
Lio's expression shifted—some of his usual competitive spirit returning. "Alright. But don't blame me if you can't keep up."
"Please," Jade scoffed. "I could keep up with you in my sleep."
It was a lie—his body was still recovering, still too sensitive and off-balance. But the challenge in Lio's eyes was exactly what they both needed.
Lio grinned—genuinely grinned—and dropped into a ready stance. "Prove it."
What followed wasn't a real fight. It was play-sparring, the kind of thing they'd done a hundred times before. Lio threw wind-assisted strikes that were purposely slow enough for Jade to dodge. Jade countered with ice that formed sluggishly, his control still fractured, but functional enough to be interesting.
They moved through the courtyard, laughing when someone slipped, cursing when someone landed a light hit, trash-talking like the teenagers they actually were.
"That was pathetic!" Lio crowed when Jade's ice wall collapsed before it even formed properly. "My grandmother could do better!"
"Your grandmother's dead," Jade shot back, grinning despite his exhaustion. "And shut up, I'm recovering!"
"Excuses!" Lio laughed, dodging a half-hearted ice shard. "The great Jade, brought low by his own weak constitution!"
"I'm going to freeze your ass to that wall," Jade threatened, but he was laughing too, genuine and unguarded in a way he rarely allowed himself to be.
They weren't the powerful awakeners who'd survived an attack. They weren't the traumatized victims processing what had happened. They were just two brothers, playing in a courtyard, acting their age for once.
Inside the workshop, Niamh stood at the window with Selene, Amara, and Gorvoth, watching the scene unfold.
"They're going to hurt themselves," Amara said, but she was smiling, tears streaming down her face.
"Let them," Selene said, wiping at her own eyes. "They need this."
Niamh couldn't speak, her throat too tight with emotion. She watched Jade—her son in every way that mattered—laughing freely, moving without the weight of control he usually carried. Watched Lio finally shed the guilt that had been crushing him, his expression lighter than it had been in days.
"They'll be okay," Gorvoth said quietly. "Both of them."
"Yeah," Niamh managed, her voice thick. "They will."
Outside, Jade finally collapsed onto a bench, gasping for breath, his body reminding him sharply that he was not, in fact, recovered. Lio dropped down beside him, equally winded, and they sat in comfortable silence for a moment.
"Thank you," Lio said eventually. "For not giving up on me."
"Never," Jade said simply. "You're stuck with me, idiot."
Lio laughed, bumping his shoulder against Jade's. "Good. Because you're stuck with me too."
They sat together as the sun began to set, two brothers who'd survived, who'd been broken and put themselves back together, who'd found family in each other against all odds.
And for the first time in days, everything felt like it might actually be okay.
....