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“Emilia?” Javier called from the living room as we threw away the bloodied rags and bandages.

“Yeah?” She hurried out, and I leaned over the counter to see him looking around, confused.

“You’re okay?”

“Me? I’m not the one that lost a fight.” She laughed.

He scowled. “We didn’t lose. We just couldn’t do much to defend ourselves.”

“Right.” She put her hands on her hips. “How are you feeling?”

“Shitty.”

Admitting that meant he was still in bad shape.

“Why don’t you take something for the pain, then go to bed?” She turned back to me. “Can you get him some water?”

“Sure.” I went to the kitchen while she led him to our bedroom.

By the time I filled a glass and got medicine, he was slowly climbing into bed without argument. He wasn’t demanding to check on the others or for an update on what he missed while he was gone.

That’s how I knew he was truly messed up.

“Here,” I offered the two pills, and he tossed them back before taking the water and downing it. His body was healed, no more wounds, but he’d likely be sore for a few days.

She pulled the blankets up and covered him, but his hand shot out. “Stay with me?”

Without a single word, no teasing or warnings to take it easy, she slid in next to him. I watched like a voyeur as he rolled, laying his head on her chest and wrapping his arm around her waist, wishing I had an excuse to do the same.

I stepped back, but she reached out, holding her hand up for me.

“This is a bad idea.”

She didn’t waver.

“My brothers are tough, but we’re not invincible.”

“Neither am I.”

Her admission nearly broke me.

“We can’t––”

“We’re all alive, Marco,” she cut me off before I could rattle off another excuse. “We’re alive, and we’re here. Don’t think beyond that. Take comfort while you can.”

There was no denying that, and I didn’t want to. I lifted the blanket just enough to slide in next to her, taking her hand and holding it against my chest.

We lay in silence, listening to Javier’s gentle snores from her other side.

“I was scared.” Admitting that was harder than it should have been.

“Me too.” Her voice was a whisper.

I closed my eyes, soaking in the knowledge that, despite the way things could have gone, my brothers were safe. Whole. Together.

It was all I ever wished for. It was all I was allowed to want. To dream bigger was to be disappointed.

She turned her head toward me. I thought she was asleep until she spoke. “What would you want? If you were free?”