The pieces of my puzzle.

Forty-Seven.

(Bradly's POV)

The warmth of the afternoon light hit my face, resembling the lightest of touches as my feet waded through the ankle high grass of the local park.

The chains on the swing set a few meters ahead of us creaked slightly as they swayed in the wind, we made our way toward them since the slide was now apparently boring.

Wait we?

My heart rate jumped slightly as I registered, seemingly for the first time, the feel of a small hand clasped in mine, grip relaxed yet sure as we continued to make our way towards the swings.

I glanced down at the person holding my hand, eyes landing on the sandy blonde hair of the little boy walking beside me, never stepping from my side as if my presence alone was the safest place in the world.

I stared at him for a moment, guessing he was about four years old.

And suddenly the little boy's head shot up, dark brown eyes crashing into mine, scanning my face with an intensity that reminded me so much of Azara's. "Dada, can I go on the big swing?" His voice was high pitched with excitement as he skipped happily at my side.

The simple sentence hit me like a physical blow to the chest, my heart stopping and starting in the same second just as the breath was knocked from my lungs.
Dada? I have a son?

The revelation brought up a strange sensation in my chest, a mix of warmth yet a feeling so intense it teetered on the edge of being painful. Was this what loving a child, a child of your own flesh and blood, felt like? If so, I would gladly stay here and soak up every millisecond of this feeling I possibly could, bathe in the reality that this child was mine. Mine.

I didn't hear myself reply to his question, too stunned at the new information of the life I now had. As we eventually reached the swings, I effortlessly lifted him onto the bigger one, making sure he was secure before stepping behind him to push him ever so gently, the swing rocking back and forth with my encouragement.

And as the swing went just a little higher, a sudden infectious giggle left the little boy, my heart squeezing in my chest at the foreign sound. A child's joy. A child living life in the most carefree of ways. Just being himself.

As the hours stretched on and the giggles and creaking of the swing dimmed and the little boy's eyelids grew heavy with fatigue, I scooped him up and let out a breath of awe as he automatically rested his little head against my shoulder, completely and utterly safe.

I stood there for a moment, soaking in the sensation of his weight in my arms, his heartbeat against my chest, synchronized with my own.

"Hey Buddy."

I spun around at the voice, my throat instantly tightening, I hadn't heard that voice for years, only familiar to the memory of a 6 year old boy. There in the glow of the dimming light stood two figures.

"Dad." I whispered, my voice thick with the emotion starting to swell in my chest. "Mom."

They looked the same, exactly like when I last saw them. Dad wearing the Hawaiian shirt and shorts, mustache styled perfectly. Mom in one of the loose dresses she always wore.

Carole's gaze flicked to the little boy still asleep in my arms, a longing yet proud smile painting her lips. "Oh Bradly." Her eyes shined with emotion as they met mine once again. "We're so proud of you."

"Of what you built." Goose had an arm around his wife and an equally proud glint in his eye. "Of how far you've come."

My cheat tightened as I heaved a breath at their words, that familiar ache of longing, that had been pushed to the side for so long, clawing its way back to the surface. Aching. Throbbing. Grief.

My throat worked as swallowing around the lump slowly forming there proved to be harder than anticipated. When my voice finally worked, it came out choked from a sadness no one, who hasn't experienced the loss of everything, could ever know. "I wish you were here. To experience all this with me."

They took a step closer, Carole, placing a comforting hand on my arm, her eyes brimming with the pain she had been in accompany with for years. "I know, my boy. But we'll always be with you." She gently poked a finger at my chest in that way that always made me giggle as a child. "In here."

Goose looked down at his grandson, gently running  a hand over his sandy blonde locks without waking him, before looking back up at me. "You did good, son." I felt a tear slip down my cheek as he continued. "Hold onto that. Onto them. Because every moment is precious."

I could only manage a small nod in response as the tears fell freely now.

They stepped forward and embraced me in a hug. One that made me feel like I was a child again, where the arms of my parents were the only place that I was untouchable. It was warm. And safe. And us. As one.

Until it wasn't.

The soothing sensation of fingers rhythmically raking through my hair mingled with the warmth of my parents hug for a moment, as if I was caught between worlds, until I opened my eyes, and when the fog faded,  realized I was in bed, my head resting in Azara's lap.

"Hey sleepyhead." Came her melodic voice as I looked up and my eyes met hers. Grounding. Calm. Real.

I shook the dream from my head, shifting slightly as she continued to comb her fingers through my hair. "What time's it."

She smiled lightly, tilting her head to the side in that way that always infuriated me when I used to have a crush on her when we were teens. "Its 11:00. Figured I'd let you sleep in since a day off is scarce nowadays."

I hummed in acknowledgment as I took in her already dressed form. Jeans, T-shirt, and boots. "Where were you?" I questioned, my voice still fighting the fog of sleep.

She let out a breath that made me glance up to read her face. "I went to see my mom."

My eyebrows shot up in surprise as I shifted to rest my head on one propped up elbow. "Your mom? As in your biological mom? The one who crashed our wedding?"

Azara let out a huff that could've passed for a laugh as she ran a hand through her hair. But her expression didn't betray any other signs of stress. "The very one. And we talked. In a calm manner surprisingly." She leaned her head against the wooden headboard. "We agreed that we're going to try and move on from the past and try to build something new. Something less...stained."

I searched her eyes for a second, looking for any hesitation, for anxiety. But found none. I grabbed her hand and lifted it to my lips to press a kiss to her knuckles. "I'm happy for you, Az."

She moved the hand, that I had let slip from my grip, rest on my cheek in a loving caress. "Yeah. Me too."

And as we breathed in the silence, not uncomfortable, but filled with things not needed to be said. I closed my eyes. Letting my lips tilt up in a smile. One of warmth. Of hope.

Hope for the family we were born into, whether passed on or not. For the family being found and put back together. And for the one we were slowly starting to build.

Together.