CHAPTER 108: ALONE AGAIN

Chapter 106

Jack

I hold Lanny in my arms and hold back tears, staring down at his sleeping face.

His tiny chest rises, falls. So small.

So peaceful.

Completely unaware that the world outside our walls has teeth.

I exhale — shaky, uneven — and hug him tight, careful but terrified, like holding him wrong might shatter this fragile moment.

He stirs, little fists scrunching my shirt, a soft noise leaving his mouth, halfway between a sigh and a whimper.

"...hey, buddy," I whisper, pressing my forehead against his.

He smells like milk and baby soap.

Like safety. Like a future I never thought I’d be allowed to want.

God.

I swallow, the burn behind my eyes getting worse.

It’s 3AM.

They are leaving.

This is the best time, away from cameras, eyes, questions.

The world is silent. Moonlight bruised and silver over the driveway. The air so cold it bites my lungs.

"I’ll see you soon," I whisper.

But the words scrape in my throat like a lie I’m praying into truth.

My arms resist letting go.

Every instinct screams hold on — but I force myself to place him gently into Ciel’s waiting hands.

Ciel buckles Lanny into the car seat, fingers trembling. His shoulders curl, like if he bends low enough, maybe grief won’t find him.

I’ve never seen him look smaller.

Never hated the universe more.

I inhale sharply, drag myself upright, and turn to Nolan.

I hug him.

Hard.

He stiffens ,shocked , then grips me back just as tight, like if either of us lets go too fast something will break and never fix itself again.

When I pull back, I don’t think , I just kiss him.

A desperate press of lips, a promise, a goodbye, a don’t you dare die before I see you again.

My forehead rests against his, our breaths uneven and quiet in the night.

Then I kiss his forehead too, slow, reverent. Like a blessing.

"You’re the man of the house, doggy," I whisper. "I leave them in your care."

He nods, slowly.

"When have I not been?" He quirks, trying to sound cocky, but his voice cracks.

I huff a small laugh, tiny, exhausted, breaking apart at the edges.

"Remember: never contact me first on the burner phone. I’ll contact you."

"That’s the hundredth time you’ve said that," he mutters, eyes down.

"Yeah, yeah. I know."

I pull him close again, forehead pressing to his temple.

"In our time apart," I murmur, voice dipping low because if I don’t laugh I’ll drown, "I need you to prepare yourself."

My hand slides down his back, settles on his ass, grabbing a handful.

"I’m going to take out my frustrations on this."

Slap.

He jolts, nearly head-butts me in panic, cheeks going crimson in the garage light.

"You—!" he sputters, pushing me away with weak indignation and wide eyes.

I chuckle, low and rough. It feels rusty. Forced. Needed.

"What? It’s motivational." I shrug, smirk tugging at my lips. "Think of it as... a training arc."

"Jack, I swear to God I will throw you into traffic—"

"You love me too much for that."

He scowls.

He absolutely does.

I soften, reaching out, brushing my thumb at the corner of his mouth.

"Stay safe, doggy."

His angry face cracks ,just a second ,and I see the fear again, raw and loud.

"Obviously," he breathes.

Another slap to his ass for good measure.

Purely to keep him mad instead of scared.

He yelps, jumps, shoves me again , voice rising embarrassingly high:

"STOP DOING THAT RIGHT BEFORE WE PART WAYS WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?"

I grin — a real one this time, sharp and aching.

I pull Nolan in by the back of his neck and kiss him one last time, slow and sure, memorizing the taste of him, the warmth, the way he leans into me before he ever thinks to pull back.

Then I step away.

And before I can even breathe—

Ciel launches himself into my arms.

I catch him instinctively, palms sliding under his thighs as he wraps around me like he’s afraid gravity will steal him if he lets go. He buries his face into my neck, breath hitched, small body trembling.

"Sunshine," I whisper, tightening my grip until I feel the fine tremor in his shoulders.

"I don’t want to let go," he breathes, voice breaking into my skin.

"I know," I murmur, my hand making steady circles over his spine. "I know."

I pull back enough to see him.

"Sunshine, look at me."

He resists — just a heartbeat — then lifts his head.

God.

Those golden eyes, damp and shining,his scarlet hair tied in a low, uneven bun.

He looks like something precious carved from a dream, too soft for this world, too stubborn to surrender to it.

Sometimes I don’t understand how someone can look so fragile and still be the strongest person I know.

"Nothing, on this planet will keep me away from you, and I’m selfish enough to think I’d rather no one haves you but me." I say, rubbing my nose against his, breathing him in like I need him to stay whole.

"I love you," I whisper against his lips—

And I kiss him.

Slow. Deep. Final in a way that feels like a promise and a threat and a prayer.

Then gently, I set him back on his feet.

He immediately rises on his toes, grabbing my collar, pulling me back into another kiss like he refuses the ground itself. I meet him halfway. Of course I do.

I kiss him again , harder , like I need to carve the shape of his mouth into my heartbeat before I let him go. My hand slides to his waist, pulling him flush against me, greedy for one more second, one more breath.

I break the kiss because if I don’t, I’m coming with them.

A thin string of saliva stretches between us before snapping.

I thumb the corner of his mouth, wiping it away.

"Later, sunshine," I murmur, pressing a kiss to his forehead , sealing the vow.

He lingers, eyes glassy, lips swollen, before forcing himself toward the car. Every step looks like it hurts him.

He climbs into the back seat, and I shut the door gently, like he’s made of glass and the world is already trying to crack him.

Nolan meets my eyes in the rear-view mirror.

No words. I merely tap the hood twice.

The engine starts.

I watch as the garage door rises, as the headlights spill out into the night, as the car rolls forward — taking my heart, my family, my peace with it.

They disappear up the road.

And I stand there long after they’re gone, fists clenched, breath shaking, the echo of Ciel’s warmth still burning on my lips like a brand.

Alone again.

***

Nolan

Never thought I’d be using my newly-acquired driver’s license like this.

Not for grocery runs.

But to run.

To run from ghosts with crowns.

My fingers tighten around the wheel, knuckles white. I press harder on the accelerator, the hum of the engine a low vibration beneath everything — beneath panic, beneath rage, beneath love that feels like a battlefield.

I glance in the rear-view.

Just long enough.

Ciel is curled around Lanny’s car seat, holding him like the world might try ripping him away mid-breath. His forehead pressed to the baby’s soft hair. Shoulder shaking quietly.

A soft, broken sound escapes him — a sob too controlled, too practiced.

I pretend I don’t hear it.

Because if I acknowledge it, I will stop this car.

I will turn around.

And we can’t do that.

So I stare forward, jaw clenched so tight I taste copper.

Street signs blur.

City lights fade.

The night swallows us whole.

My heart is beating too fast, loud enough that it feels like it’s trying to claw its way out. I keep my voice steady , or at least I try.

"Put your mask on," I whisper, not looking back. "Sleep if you can. We’re switching vehicles in an hour."

Ciel doesn’t answer. Just a quiet sniff. A shaky inhale. The fabric rustles as he shifts, maybe wiping his face. Maybe holding Lanny tighter.

I focus on the road like it’s the only thing tethering me to sanity.

I step on the gas again, eyes burning, throat tight, teeth grit

***

Ciel

I stop crying.

Tears dry. Breath steadies.

Everything hurts — heart, ribs, lungs — but hurt is a privilege I can’t afford right now.

So I take the pieces and fold them, neat and tight, like delicate silk.

I place them in a small box inside my chest — a box I learned to make long, long ago.

Lock.

Latch.

Bury.

There will be time to break later.

Maybe.

For now, I move carefully so I don’t jostle Lanny. His tiny fingers curl around my sleeve, and that alone nearly cracks me again but I don’t let it.

I reach for the oversized hoodie beside me.

Jack’s hoodie.

The one I stole ... well, "borrowedpermanently."

I pull it over my head slowly, almost reverently.

It swallows me whole.

Warm. Safe. Familiar.

I press the sleeve to my nose.