Sibling spotlight - billie and Finneas story

A familiar chat

Chapter: A familiar chat

Y/N’s breathing had finally evened out as she fell asleep on the couch, her body curled up under the blanket. Billie sat beside her, gently stroking her sister’s hair, while Finneas leaned back in the chair across from them, his guitar now resting against the wall. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the evening light filtering through the windows. For a moment, it felt peaceful, but the weight of everything that had happened hung between them.

Finneas glanced over at Billie, his expression pensive. He kept his voice low, not wanting to wake Y/N. “I don’t know how we’re going to keep the media off this,” he said, his brow furrowed with frustration. “It’s already out there, and they’re digging deeper every day.”

Billie sighed, her hand pausing in Y/N’s hair for a moment. “Yeah. I’ve seen the headlines—they’re relentless. They don’t care about what she’s been through. It’s like they’re treating her trauma as some kind of spectacle.”

Finneas nodded, his jaw tightening. He hated how people could turn something so personal and painful into a public obsession. “She doesn’t need this. Not now. She’s barely holding it together.”

Billie’s eyes softened as she looked down at Y/N, who shifted slightly in her sleep but stayed peaceful. “She’s trying so hard, Finn. But you’re right… she’s not ready for the world to be looking at her like this. We need to protect her from all of it.”

“I’ve been thinking,” Finneas began, running a hand through his hair. “Maybe we should go quiet for a while. Lay low. The less we engage with the media, the faster they’ll move on. It’ll give Y/N some breathing room. I mean, we don’t have to disappear completely, but just… stop feeding into it.”

Billie considered this, biting her lip. “Yeah, I think that could help. If we go quiet, it might take some of the pressure off her. But… do you think the fans will understand? They’ve been waiting for new music, but we’ve been so focused on Y/N that we haven’t even thought about recording.”

“I think they’ll understand,” Finneas said, though there was a hint of uncertainty in his voice. “The real fans will. And honestly, anyone who can’t see why we’re putting family first isn’t the kind of fan we need to worry about.”

Billie nodded, but there was still a flicker of concern in her eyes. “I don’t want to abandon them, though. I mean, music is… it’s what keeps us grounded, you know? I just don’t know how to balance that with everything happening with Y/N.”

Finneas leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I get that. But right now, she needs us more than the music does. We’ve always put family first, and this is no different. When she’s stronger, when she’s ready, we can get back to making music. Maybe we even involve her more—if she wants that. It could be healing for her, like it used to be.”

Billie’s eyes softened, and she smiled faintly. “Yeah, I’d love that. I miss playing with her. That little spark she showed the other day when we were messing around with the guitar… it felt like a glimpse of the old Y/N.”

Finneas smiled too, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “It was nice. But we have to be patient. She’s been through hell, and it’s going to take time for her to feel safe again. For now, I think all we can do is keep showing up for her. Make sure she knows we’re here, no matter what.”

Billie nodded, her hand resuming its gentle motion in Y/N’s hair. “It’s just hard to see her like this, you know? She’s so fragile… and the PTSD, the way she flinches whenever you or Dad come near… I don’t know how to help her with that.”

Finneas sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “Yeah, I know. It’s… hard. And I hate it. I hate that I can’t just make it go away for her.”

“You’re doing everything you can,” Billie reassured him. “She knows you love her, even if it’s hard for her right now.”

Finneas glanced at Y/N, his eyes full of quiet determination. “We’ll keep doing whatever it takes. She’ll come back to us in her own time.”

There was a brief silence as they both looked at Y/N, her face peaceful in sleep, even if her waking hours were filled with fear.

“I just keep thinking about what she went through,” Billie murmured. “I can’t even imagine the trauma she’s carrying. It’s in everything she does now… the way she looks at the world, the way she looks at us.”

Finneas clenched his fists, his face hardening. “And the worst part is, we can’t fix it for her. No matter how much we want to.”

Billie’s eyes filled with sadness, but also determination. “All we can do is be here for her. Help her through it, even when it feels impossible.”

“Yeah,” Finneas agreed softly. “And we will. We’ll get her through this. We’ll figure it out together.”

As they sat there in the quiet of the room, the weight of the conversation lingered. But amid the heaviness, there was also hope—hope that, in time, Y/N would heal.

For now, though, they had each other. And they would hold on to that, no matter what.