BRANCE + RINNEY

saltwater and open wounds

Finn, five years old and giddy with excitement of the beach, tucked his fingers underneath the vast field of sand and waited for his hands to sink under. He could hear his mother and father somewhere behind him, their voices mingled together in mumbles of different volumed sounds. Finn picked his hands out of the sand, laughing at the way specks of it stuck to his raisin-pruned fingers and coated them tan. His feet wobbled as he ran, splashing into the water that swallowed him until it reached his collarbone. His parents were still arguing behind him, entranced into their own world of yelling and swear words. Finn stuck his tongue into the water, nose scrunching at the salty taste of it.

He hadn't been watching the waves, how big they had begun to get. His mother had screamed for him, his father running as a wave twice the size of him came splashing towards the shore.

Finn's eyes shot open, right hand grasping at the fabric around his heart as he inhaled shaky breaths. His room, quiet and darkened with the outline of the moon, did nothing to calm his aching muscles and sweat-slicked face.

"It was twelve years ago. Nothing is going to hurt you. It's okay." Finn pressed his hands over his ears and shut his eyes, legs aching as he tucked them underneath himself and began to rock back and forth. "Nothing is going to hurt you. It's okay."

"Dude, you look like complete shit." Vance hit the back of Finn's head, laughing as he sat down in the seat beside him. "Yeah, thanks." Finn sniffled and rubbed at his eyes, ignoring the way they stung in retaliation. "You okay?" Vance placed his bag into his lap, arms resting atop of it as he leaned towards Finn. "Fine."

Finn went through the rest of the school day on autopilot, his brain swelling with incomprehensible knowledge. He had zoned out at some point in time, his eyes focused in on the red hand of the clock as his heartbeat began to echo through his ears. For a moment, he was back in the water at the beach. He was drowning all over again, his arms propelled forward in search for his mother's hands. He hadn't realized he had started to panic, tears forming in the corners of his eyes, until

"Finney." The voice rang through his ears, rattling through his chest and slamming into his excitedly beating heart. Gasping out a breath, Finn turned his head and met eyes with his teacher.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." His hands found their way around his ears again and his eyes forced themselves closed, protecting the tears and childhood trauma enclosed behind them.

"Finney, you can go to the nurse if you want. I'll have someone bring you your work." The teacher placed a hand on Finn's shoulder, smiling all the same when he flinched away from it.

"Thank, thank you." Finn stood up, almost knocking his chair to the floor in the process, and grabbed his bag, Taking another look at his teacher, returning her nod, he made his way out of the classroom.

It was towards the end of the day when the door to the nurse's office finally opened. Finn, who hadn't slept but wasn't quite awake, was pressed against the wall of one of the beds, his head leaned back with his eyes closed.

"Um, hey. I was told to bring you these." Finn recognized the voice, as if his memory had forced him to remember it. It was calming, relaxing. Opening his eyes, Finn came face to face with Robin.

"Oh, hey."

"What happened to your parents?" Crayons were sprawled out on the small table, stains of which littering the wood in different shades of color. "They couldn't save me in time. When I woke up they were gone. I didn't, I don't know where they went." The sound of crayon meeting paper echoed throughout the dining room. "Well, you can stay here as long as you like. I don't mind."

"Hey." Robin looked the slightest bit uncomfortable, which Finn could understand. It had been a few months since they last spoke, Finn having snuck out while the other was sleeping only to never return.

"I'll just, um, I'll leave these with you." The papers from class were put down on a stool near Finn, the white of them making his vision blurry. Robin turned to leave, silence overtaking the room once more, when Finn grabbed his sleeve.

"Wait, just, just hold on. I want, I need to talk to you. To explain." Finn let go of Robin's sleeve once he turned around. The papers were taken off the stool, now nestled into Finn's lap, and Robin replaced them on the seat. He was silent, as expected, but urged Finn to get on with it with a wave of his hand.

"I didn't intend on leaving you like I did. Leaving you and your mom. It was just, I needed to know if my parents ever came back. I missed my home, my room. The smell of my mom's perfume that sunk into the walls as the house aged. I missed them Robin, so fucking much. And I know, I know they aren't coming back but god."

Finn put his head into his hands, shielding away his tears. Robin, without a word, stood and wrapped his arms around him.

"Nothing is going to hurt you. It's okay." Robin threaded his hands through Finn's hair, knocking their foreheads together as he breathed a certain way in hopes Finn would mimic. Which, of course, he did.

"Mamá, is it okay if Finn lives with us now? His mamá and papá left him." Robin had his hands in an 'o' shape, which surrounded his lips as he spoke. His mother bounded into the kitchen and raised a brow, smiling only when Finn looked at her and raised his drawing for her to see. "Sí. Encontraremos a sus padres, de alguna manera, Finney."

Finn flipped his picture to Robin, smiling when the boy gave him a thumbs up.

"We were only five, but I'd take you care of you and your scary dreams all over again." Robin pressed a kiss to Finn's scalp and smiled.

"Does that mean I can come back?" Finn smiled too as he looked up. "Always."
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authors note: left a lot of this up to y'all's imagination so, yeah. :)