Salvage

Chapter 13

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Moon's pov 

The house is too quiet.

Not empty quiet... Not lonely quiet. The kind of quiet that happens after something explodes. Dad's asleep upstairs, Kingston carried him even though he pretended not to need it. Damien followed behind like he expected the walls to collapse at any second. Lucian refused to let go until Eli promised he could sleep in the same room.

I stayed at the bottom of the stairs.

Watching.

Listening.

Waiting for something to go wrong. It doesn't but that doesn't mean it won't.

The living room is full of low voices. Wynton stands near the window, phone pressed to his ear, voice sharp and controlled. "Yes, secure the files. Every floor, I want the financial records and the intake logs." He pauses. "No mistakes."

Marco leans against the kitchen counter, arms crossed, jaws tight. Mateo scrolls through something on a tablet security feed maybe. Evidence. Names.

 Damien comes down the stairs slowly, running a hand through his hair. He looks wrecked. Not physically, but emotionally.

"He's sleeping."He says quietly.

Everyone exhales. I don't. I'm not ready to relax.

I sit on the edge of the couch and stare at the front door. The wood looks normal, harmless. But doors have lied before.

"You should rest." Eli says gently, stepping into the room. He always moves like that... careful, like he's afraid of breaking something fragile. "I'm fine" I say automatically. He doesn't call me out. But he doesn't believe me either.

I remember the night they took him. I was small enough to think screaming could stop adults.

It didn't. I remember the sound of his voice as they dragged him away. I remember promising myself I'd never feel that helpless again. And I didn't.

I got stronger, smarter, and colder when I needed to. But tonight....

Tonight I almost lost him again. And that does something to your lungs. 

Wynton ends the call and looks at me. "They won't touch him again." He says. He doesn't say it like comfort. But like a vow.

"I know." I reply. He studies me for a second. Like he sees more than I'm showing."You don't have to stand guard."He mumbled, concern showing on his face. "I'm not."

It's a lie.

Upstairs, there's movement. My head snaps toward the sound before I can stop myself. 

Damien noticed. "He's just turning over." He says softly. I nod but I don't move from the couch. because I know how this works. The aftermath is worse than rescue. The adrenaline fades and the memories creep in. The nightmares don't ask for permission. 

Voices rise in the kitchen not angry, but intense. "They've already started damage control." Marco said." Too late, we have enough" " Uncle won't sit quietly, He'll retaliate." Kingston adds from the hallway. I didn't even hear him come down. Wynton's expression hardens. " Let him."

There's something dangerous in the air again. Tense silence mixed with a feeling 'im not familiar with. Not hospital danger but family danger, the kind that protects.

I looked at the stairs. for years I imagined this moment. Bringing him home... getting him back. I thought I'd feel victorious but instead I feel tired. and scared. Because now he's here, I have something to lose again.

Footsteps.

Light, careful. Dad appears at the top of the stairs, swaying slightly. Everyone that was in the room goes still. "I'm okay." He says before anyone can get anything to move. He isn't but he's trying. I'm on my feet before I realize it. "You shouldn't be up."I tell him quietly. He gives me this look... soft, almost guilty. " I needed to see you." That hits harder than anything else tonight. I walked up the stairs slowly,  meeting him halfway. " Im not going anywhere." His hand gripped my shoulder not like a father guiding a child. 

like someone making sure the ground is still there. Downstairs, conversations resume quietly. Phones buzzing, plans forms, Names are spoken in low, deliberate tones.

But right now

Right now its just me and him in the dim hallway.

"You were little, I tried to get back you you." He says quietly. I swallowed. "Yeah. I know." 

And I do, That's the thing, I never thought he left. I always knew he was taken but that didn't make it hurt less. But it also kept me from hating him. "I'm not small anymore." I tell him gently. He almost smiled. " I see that" We stand there a moment longer. Then I guided him back to bed. When he's settled again, I don't go downstairs. I laid beside him as i stared at him as his breath evened out. 

Letting the people downstairs plan their war.

Letting the house breathe

Letting the night pass.

If the dark comes back....

It will have to get through me first.