Trauma changes people. trauma changes everyone.
All rights for the 9-1-1 cast and all rights to most of the plot goes to ABC. New plots and new characters belong to me 🫶
Book continues in Apparition! 🫶
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LYDIA
The sunlight streams through my bedroom window, warming my face and nudging me awake. For the first time in what feels like weeks, I've had a full night's sleep. I stretch my arms over my head, feeling the satisfying crack of my joints, and glance at the clock on my nightstand. It's almost 9 a.m., which is practically sleeping in for me.
Today feels like one of those rare, peaceful days where everything might just fall into place.
After a quick shower, I throw on some leggings and an oversized hoodie. My hair is still damp as I pad into the kitchen, the familiar scent of coffee wafting through the air. Christopher is already at the table, munching on cereal and reading one of his books about sharks.
"Morning, buddy," I say, pouring myself a cup of coffee.
"Morning!" he says with a grin, his spoon clinking against the bowl. "Did you know a great white shark can have up to 3,000 teeth?"
"Seriously?" I ask, sitting across from him. "That's a lot of teeth."
"Yeah," he says, his voice full of excitement. "And they grow new ones when they lose some!"
I smile, watching him as he dives into a detailed explanation about shark biology. His enthusiasm is contagious, and I find myself nodding along, even though I only understand about half of what he's saying.
********
Once breakfast is done and the kitchen is cleaned, I pull out my laptop and sit at the dining room table. I've been meaning to go over my budget for college, and today feels like the perfect day to tackle it.
"Whatcha doing?" Christopher asks, wheeling his chair over to my side.
"Just figuring out some college stuff," I tell him, opening up a spreadsheet.
He peers at the screen, his brow furrowing. "That looks boring."
I laugh. "It kind of is. But it's important."
As I type in numbers and calculate expenses, Christopher stays by my side, occasionally asking questions. I explain as simply as I can-tuition, books, housing-trying not to overwhelm him.
"Do you have enough money?" he asks, his voice small.
"Don't worry about that," I say, ruffling his hair. "I've got it under control."
********
Around noon, there's a knock at the door. I already know who it is before I even open it. Miles is standing there, his hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, a lazy grin on his face.
"Hey," he says, leaning in to kiss my cheek as he steps inside.
"Hey," I reply, shutting the door behind him.
Christopher's eyes light up when he sees Miles. "Miles!"
"What's up, little man?" Miles says, crouching down for a fist bump.
Christopher immediately launches into another shark fact, and Miles listens intently, nodding along as if he's genuinely fascinated. It's one of the things I love most about him-he always makes time for Chris, no matter what.
********
Later, the three of us end up in the living room, watching Finding Nemo for the hundredth time. Christopher is stretched out on the couch, his head resting on a pillow, while Miles and I sit on the floor with a bowl of popcorn between us.
As the movie plays, I glance over at Miles. He's completely focused on the screen, a small smile tugging at his lips.
"Why do you look so serious?" I tease, nudging him with my elbow.
"This is a classic," he says, pretending to be offended. "Show some respect."
I roll my eyes, but I'm smiling.
********
When the movie ends, Christopher decides to go play with his Legos in his room, leaving Miles and me alone in the living room.
"You wanna stay for dinner?" I ask, leaning my head against his shoulder.
"Always," he says, wrapping an arm around me.
We sit there for a while, not saying much, just enjoying each other's company. It's moments like this-simple and unhurried-that make me feel like everything in my life is exactly where it's supposed to be.
********
By the time dinner rolls around, I've thrown together spaghetti and garlic bread. Miles insists on helping, so we end up bumping into each other in the tiny kitchen, laughing as he pretends to be useless at chopping vegetables.
"Careful," I warn, watching him struggle with the knife. "I don't want to explain to Hen and Karen why you're missing a finger."
"Relax," he says, grinning. "I've got this."
********
After dinner, Christopher convinces Miles to play a board game with him. I sit back and watch, sipping on a cup of tea as they argue over the rules.
"Lydia," Christopher says, turning to me with wide eyes. "Tell him he's cheating!"
"I'm not cheating," Miles protests, holding up his hands. "I'm just better at this game than you."
"You're going down," Christopher says, narrowing his eyes.
"Bring it on," Miles replies, laughing.
I can't help but smile as I watch them. For the first time in a long time, everything feels... good. Like the weight I've been carrying has lifted, if only for a little while.
