Some memories don't fade. They haunt in color—brighter than real life, sharper than pain.
Elias was dreaming. He knew that.
The pain in his chest was gone. The air was warmer, lighter. Like late summer in a backyard he hadn't stepped into in over a decade.
The screen door creaked open behind him.
"Gremlin," came a voice, soft and amused. "Don't think I don't see you sneaking cookies before dinner."
Elias turned.
There he was.
Noah Vale—twenty-two and golden. Tan skin dusted in freckles, messy curls tied back with a red bandana, sleeves rolled up as he balanced a tray of lemonade. His smile was crooked, his walk lazy, but his eyes… his eyes held storms.
Elias blinked. "Noah?"
The man in front of him didn't seem to hear the question.
"You want me to get yelled at again?" Noah muttered, nudging Elias's shoulder as he passed. "Gran already thinks I feed you too much sugar. Like your metabolism isn't cheating us all."
Gran.
As if summoned, Evelyn Vale stepped out next, apron stained with flour and mouth already mid-scold.
"Noah, if he spoils his dinner—"
"I'll take the blame, Gran," Noah said without hesitation, lifting his hands. "But if I go down, I'm taking your meatloaf with me."
"Blasphemy," Evelyn huffed, but her eyes softened.
And trailing behind her, as always, was Gerald Vale—quiet, stern, gentle when no one was watching. His hand rested on Elias's shoulder for a brief moment, a gesture that once meant everything.
The backyard smelled of lemon, tomato vines, and cut grass. The old tire swing creaked in the breeze.
It felt like peace.
Too much peace.
Noah sat down on the porch steps and patted the space beside him. "Sit. We've got fifteen minutes before they drag us inside for grace."
Elias obeyed without speaking. He was still a child here—maybe six or seven—but in the dream, he felt like both child and teen at once. Frozen between who he was and who he became.
Noah handed him a glass of lemonade and watched him drink.
Then, softly: "You ever think about leaving this place?"
Elias blinked. "What do you mean?"
"Just…" Noah's gaze drifted to the horizon. "There's more out there. Places where people like us don't have to lie to breathe."
"People like us?"
Noah chuckled. "People who don't fit in neat little boxes. You'll see. One day, this house'll feel too small for you, too."
Elias frowned. "I like it here."
"I know. That's the tragedy."
The screen door slammed, and Evelyn's voice echoed: "Dinner in ten, boys!"
Noah stood slowly, brushing off his jeans.
"You know I love you, right?" he said suddenly, eyes locked on Elias.
"Yeah," Elias said, small.
"But not like a brother."
The words hit harder than they should have. They bounced off the walls of memory and ricocheted into something deeper.
Noah ruffled Elias's hair. "Forget I said that."
"I won't."
Noah looked away, jaw tightening. "There are people… watching me. I don't know how much time I have left here. But if anything happens—if I disappear—you stay with Gran and Gerald. You pretend none of this ever mattered. You survive, Elias. You hear me?"
"I don't want you to go," Elias whispered.
Noah leaned in close. "I know. But sometimes... you don't get to choose. Sometimes surviving means being left behind."
He kissed Elias's forehead.
And then—
The dream collapsed. The memory blurred. That golden light turned grey.
Noah's silhouette flickered into static, and Elias heard him whisper one last time:
"You're stronger than I ever was."
PRESENT – Elias wakes up]
A harsh beep tore through the memory. Elias's eyes snapped open, heart pounding, lungs struggling to catch breath. The light was no longer golden. The hospital ceiling was white and cold.
He was alone.
Until the door opened.
Damien stood in the doorway, a dark silhouette dressed in all black, arms crossed, jaw locked. His eyes were unreadable.
"You're being discharged," he said flatly. "I'll take you home."
Not Are you okay?
Not How do you feel?
Just that.
Elias sat up slowly. "I… okay. Did something—?"
"Get dressed," Damien cut him off. "The nurse will bring your things."
---
[Drive home – silence and storm]
The silence in the car was suffocating.
Elias kept stealing glances at Damien. His hands were tight on the wheel, knuckles pale. The air conditioning blasted cold. The radio stayed off. No one spoke.
Elias tried. "Is Cassian—?"
"Alive," Damien snapped. "You can kiss him again and find out for yourself."
Elias flinched. "You saw—"
Damien didn't respond.
---
[Back at the apartment]
The moment the door swung open, Elias's stomach dropped.
The apartment looked like it had been mauled. Shattered glass on the floor. Bookshelves overturned. The table cracked down the middle. Curtains torn. Wine or blood — Elias couldn't tell — stained the rug.
Damien dropped the keys on the counter. "Clean it."
Elias turned. "What?"
"You heard me." Damien didn't look at him. "It's your mess now."
"That's not fair—"
"Fair?" Damien laughed, low and bitter. "You think kissing Cassian in a hospital bed while I'm tearing my soul out for you is fair?"
"It wasn't like that!" Elias's voice cracked. "I didn't mean for it to happen. He just—he woke up, I was happy, and—"
"And so you kissed him." Damien's eyes burned now, wild with a fury that looked too much like heartbreak. "Like you kissed me before. How convenient."
"You said I wasn't yours," Elias whispered.
Damien moved suddenly — not to hit, not to touch, but to get close. Too close. His breath was hot on Elias's cheek.
"You don't get to define what's mine."
Elias trembled.
Damien leaned back, calmer now, but colder. "Clean this place. Every inch. And when you're done, we'll talk about loyalty."
---
[Later – Elias, alone, picking up the mess]
His hands were shaking as he picked up shards of broken ceramic. A picture frame lay face-down on the floor. Elias turned it over — it was a photo of Noah, half-shattered, smile frozen in time.
Tears blurred his vision.
He whispered, "What would you have done, Noah? What do I do now?"
No answer.
Only the echo of silence.
Until his phone buzzed.
A blocked number. He hesitated… then answered.
A voice—distorted. Deep. Male.
"He knows. They all know now. Run, Elias. He can't protect you anymore."
Click.
Elias stared at the screen, numb.
Outside, thunder rolled.