Twisted Every Way(Phantom Of The Opera Fic)

Chapter 77: Fresh Prints

"Ilios" Came the whisper from the doorway. "Eli! Wake up, it's come, at long last, it's come!"

Ilios sat up in the dark of the cold room and moaned.

After ignoring the rustling from her brother's bed and the two small children in the doorway she was on the two strong hands gripped the blankets and pulled them to his chest. 

"Ilios!"

She opened her eyes ever so slightly, blinking into the candlelight.  Wade's eyes shone like stars, life emanating from every glance, every beaming smile. 

"What is it? What do you want?"

She glanced from window to bed, then back to the drowsy sibling she loved so dearly. 

"Come on! Please?"

This was met with various excuses none of which satisfied to cancel the enthusiasm of the beaming dreamer. 

"Come on Ilios," Eli smiled softly.

She gave a groan as he looked at her in a way she could never face with strength. 

 She was dragged from warmth, barefoot and barely awake. Perhaps that is the best way. The best way to live: half dreaming. Dreams go as we want them to, lives can become nightmares much too easily. 

But Eli already knew that. 

The room Eli lived in was racked with years of abuse, he was always laughing about it though, that old room was like his only friend besides Ilios. 

And sometimes the Ilios wondered if Eli loved the old Shed more.

They had been through a lot, both of them, that room and Finn, but in some respects, Eli had been through worse. 

When the room caught fire, it couldn't feel it. Neither could it feel when the howling winds knocked it off its feet. When it got knocked down somebody else built it back up.

Eli rebuilt himself. 

"You're crazy." Winnie marveled as Wade thrust open the wooden door. It creaked and slammed. Ilios winced horribly at the noise. 

"Just breathe it in." Winnie laughed gleefully closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. "That's what pure air smells like Wade. Real fresh air."

The small white flurries covered her lashes and wistful hair. Her grin framed by the luminescence of the moon and the stars above. 

The two elder siblings came out with dazed glances around the changed world before them. 

Winnie slipped her hand into Elis, Wade into Ilios. 

There they stood, blinking as their eyes adjusted, hand in hand. 

There is a moment we all have, a moment that comes no matter age or time or life. Even the most lost of wanders finally realize one day, they have discovered home. 

"I hate the cold." Ilios said slowly, turning abruptly to face Eli, "But I don't mind the snow. Especially when I have someone to share it with."

He muttered a refusal but was overtaken by surprise.

 Ilios let a tear cascade from her frostbitten cheek and land on his collar as she leaned to him in content bliss. 

Grief? Happiness? 

Tears of years of fighting against something that was too strongly ingrained to ever be overtaken?

He didn't need to know. 

Families don't need to hear to listen. 

Hand and hand, barefoot, pajamas, white clouds of fluffy snow, burying any resentment, any worry or strife.