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His heart sinks at knowing she’s seen him like this.

He grabs a towel to scrub at leftover dirt the river failed to wash away.

It won’t come off. He rubs frantically until a growl of frustration escapes and he tosses the towel against the wall.

Braces his hands on the sink and tries to gather himself before escaping to the bedroom again.

Come find me when you’re ready, she said, but he’s not ready.

He sits with his head between his arms that hang off bent knees, too overwhelmed to do anything but make himself lightheaded with his own inhales.

He falters for something grounding. Grabs the flower from its cup, but even that fails this time, and the need to call out for Kara nearly wins before he throttles that impulse.

He can handle this. He’s fine. He’s safe now.

There’s no logical reason he’s currently having a meltdown.

Nothing happened. No one hurt him. He’s overreacting to thin air, but knowing that doesn’t put a dent in the panic attack.

The relief at seeing her again is tempered by the fact that he knows he’s a complete disaster.

She puts a tray of food on the bed and sits on the corner of the mattress, one leg curled under herself, mercifully ignoring that he wasn’t strong enough to join her in the kitchen.

This house may as well be a football field. It’s so much easier to simply stay here on this bed, where he’s certain he could grow roots if allowed.

She made toast next to the scrambled eggs and plucked a fresh white flower to lie beside his plate. He uncurls his hand, revealing the one he crushed by accident.

“You’re alright,” she tells him softly. “Just breathe.”

Takes him longer than it should to get it together. Thankfully, she doesn’t wait on him before starting on her own toast. Doesn’t make a big deal out of his freakout while he’s already succeeding at that himself.

The food looks too good. Smells too good. The scent wafts up his nose, and instantly he doubts the entire situation.

Wade used to have a few interesting quirks as a kid. His brain betrayed him even then. He distinctly remembers lying in bed most nights, certain he’d locked his bedroom door and latched the windows, when a voice whispered in his ear, are you sure?

He’d always gotten up to check again.

That same voice nags at him now. Are you sure you’re safe here? Are you sure it’s okay to eat the food? Are you sure it’s really her?

He’s so deprived that anything good feels like a trick. He’s about five seconds from being unable to eat a single thing when she tilts her head like she’s figured something out, her voice a smooth cadence meant to ease his nerves.

“My mother’s favorite movie before she passed was Dirty Dancing. They filmed it at Lake Lure. Have you heard of that place before? Did you know where they filmed the movie?”

“No.”

“Then you couldn’t have made that up,” she says simply, offering him proof that she’s real all over again without any prompting. “It’s gonna be hard to keep finding things I never told you before. I feel like I’ve always told you everything.”

He’s never heard of Lake Lure and he certainly doesn’t know shit about that movie.

His frenzied pulse begins to slow as he takes the first bite of eggs.

He’s still tentative, but hunger wins, and he’s safe with Kara.

If she says it’s okay, then he has to believe it is.

It’s difficult not to inhale it all at once, but he tempers his reaction and tries to behave like he’s still got something resembling manners.

They eat in what passes for comfortable silence until she puts down her fork to slide the hair tie off her wrist.

“Sometimes, when I’m overwhelmed or upset, this is like an anchor. I touch it and think of you. Of how things used to be. I used it a lot these last few years in the woods. I think you should have it now.”

The woods. What does that mean? Did she live out there? He files it away for later, along with a dozen other questions he’s too afraid to ask yet.

“What if you need it?” he replies.

“I have you with me now. That’s enough.”

This is the last tangible thing she has left of her life before foster care tried to ruin it, and she’s offering it to him like he’s worthy of that.

He wants to believe he could be.

“When you’re feeling lost, you can touch it and remember you’re not. If I see you focused on it, I’ll know you need another random fact pulled from the depths of my boring past.”

There’s a gentle tease at the end as she puts the hair tie turned bracelet on the bed, urging him to take it.

It’s a precious token that he slips onto his own wrist, providing unexpected security in knowing he won’t need to verbalize it when he’s starting to come undone. She’ll just know.

The blanket he’s longed for lies untouched by his side, tempting him with potential warmth as rain sings them a song on the roof.

He takes it, knowing she wouldn’t lie about it being safe to do so…and because he can’t stomach the idea of forcing her to look at him half-naked any longer.

Wade only has to control himself for two weeks. Then, he’ll suffer a loss meant to protect her and spend the rest of his days alone in a stark room at the community he woke up in. For now, he enjoys her smile while he can, pulls the blanket closer, and finishes breakfast.