Derek did not sleep.
The fire had collapsed into embers hours ago, its warmth lingering more out of habit than heat. He sat beside it anyway, legs drawn in, a whetstone resting against his knee. The blade moved across it in slow, practiced strokes-measured pressure, precise angle.
Steel whispered.
He didn't need the light. His hands remembered the edge better than his eyes ever could.
Behind him, the cave was quiet.
Bruce and Vernon slept within, their breathing uneven in different rhythms. Derek could tell who was who without looking.
That was the problem.
He paused, resting the blade flat against his thigh, thumb hovering near the edge without touching it.
Too much to lose.
The forest had never demanded answers from him. It did not care what he believed, or who he loved, or what he feared. It only asked one thing: survive.
Fail, and it killed you cleanly.
The world was not so honest.
"You're making that blade nervous."
Derek didn't look up.
Melian hovered near the edge of the fire pit, her glow dim but steady, reflecting faintly along the steel. She hadn't announced herself-she rarely did anymore.
"I'm not sharpening it," Derek said. "I'm stalling."
"Why?" she asked, softly.
He snorted under his breath. "You don't know what waits beyond these trees."
Melian drifted closer. "...Maybe I don't. But I will soon enough."
The blade resumed its slow song.
"You've noticed too?" Derek smirked nervously. "They are already dead set on leaving, i wont even put up a battle of words to them."
"Are you planning to follow us?" Derek asked after a moment. "You don't have to. This path-what we're walking-it isn't yours."
Her light pulsed faintly. "I know."
A pause.
"But I want to."
His grip tightened.
"I've already decided to take them out there," Derek said quietly. "To show them. To guide them."
The whetstone scraped harder.
"The problem," he continued, "is that the more I think about it, the more afraid I become."
Melian hovered lower, closer to the embers.
"All I ever wanted," Derek said, voice rough, "was to send them to school. Watch them grow. Let them live."
"They have you," Melian said gently. "That has to count for something."
He didn't answer.
Bruce woke before the sun.
Not because of sound-but because the air felt tight, like the forest itself was holding its breath.
He slipped from the cave quietly, habit placing the dagger in his hand before thought followed. Vernon emerged moments later, rubbing at his stomach as if trying to settle something uneasy inside him.
They found Derek exactly where they expected him.
Bruce frowned. "You're going to grind that blade down to nothing."
Derek didn't look up.
"Go back to sleep."
Bruce sat anyway. "You're doing it again."
The whetstone paused.
"Doing what?"
"Acting like the future's already decided."
Silence followed-not hostile, just heavy.
Vernon leaned against a tree. "You didn't deny it."
The stone stopped completely.
"We shouldn't be having this conversation," Derek said.
Bruce tilted his head. "That stopped being true a long time ago."
Derek exhaled, gaze drifting to the embers.
"I've seen what the world does to people who don't fit into it."
Vernon nodded once. "We know."
"I don't want you to experience that," Derek said.
Bruce replied quietly, "We will eventually."
"Does it really have to be now?"
Vernon answered calmly. "Later might already be too late."
Derek's eyes snapped up. "I want you to grow while you're still protected."
"Keeping us from learning how to exist," Vernon said, "isn't protection. It's delay."
Derek stood. The log scraped against stone.
"You think a city is safer than this?"
"No," Vernon said. "I think hiding isn't the same as preparing."
A breath.
"Dad... unless you expect us to take revenge from inside this forest, we have to go out there."
Bruce leaned forward. "You say the world will take everything from us."
"It will."
"It already took Mom," Bruce said. "So what's left to lose?"
Derek's voice sharpened. "You."
Bruce didn't look away. "Then let us decide what that protection is worth."
Derek laughed softly, without humour. "You think choice matters once they decide you're a problem?"
Vernon met his gaze. "It mattered to her."
Derek froze.
"She chose," Vernon continued. "To teach. To help. She knew the risk."
"And I let her," Derek whispered.
"No," Bruce said firmly. "You stood with her, and will stand with us."
Melian drifted between them, glow soft.
Derek sank back onto the log.
"I watched them turn her work into weapons," he murmured.
"Then let us see that world," Bruce said. "Not to join it."
"To understand it," Vernon added.
"You think understanding keeps you safe?" Derek asked.
"No," Vernon said. "But ignorance makes us fragile."
Bruce finished, "And hiding makes us predictable."
Derek let out a tired breath. "...You sound like her."
Vernon smiled faintly. "Good."
A long pause.
"...Three weeks," Derek said at last. "We leave in three weeks, I need some time to mentally prepare myself."
Bruce and Vernon nodded, exchanging brief, knowing looks as they turned back toward the cave.
For the first time that night, Derek stopped sharpening the blade.