Ty had almost turned back a thousand times since he'd left Los Angeles.

But he hadn't, which was mainly down to Julian, who now turned to him with shining eyes and a set expression. He'd never wanted his emotions to show; Ty knew that Julian needed himself to be the strong one, needed to know that he was the glue that kept their family together.

Now, for the first time, Ty felt unstuck.

He held the handle of his suitcase so tightly, his knuckles turned white. They were surrounded by other Cambridge freshers, all chattering excitedly, moving constantly. Only when he looked at Julian did everything still.

"They'll tear me apart, won't they?" Ty murmured above the noise.

"Who, Ty?" Julian inclined his head to the side, all his attention on his brother.

Ty gestured pathetically. "Them, all of them. They'll hate me."

Julian's eyes softened. "Oh, Ty..." He put a hand on his shoulder, and Ty leaned into his touch. "They won't hate you. You can't go in there thinking that." Julian looked up at the college, at the crowds and the cars. He knew that, to Tiberius, the buildings were taller and the voices were louder than they were for anyone else. "You have to live here knowing that you're worthy. You're meant to be here."

No, Ty thought miserably. I'm meant to be home.

"I'll help you get your stuff to your room." Julian resolved, hauling a duffel bag over his shoulder. "Then, I have to go. My flight leaves in the afternoon."

To Ty, words were like water. Some made sounds on your tongue that boiled and bubbled like a spring. Some simply fell out of your mouth, each syllable pouring forth uncontrollably.

He had always been able to find the words in his head that could describe a situation perfectly, but now he felt dry and empty.

His room was empty. Ty dumped his suitcase onto the bed, and was transfixed by the whorls of dust which sprang up into the air. Dust. Somehow the whisper and finality of the word calmed him.

"I'll be fine." Said Julian suddenly.

"What?"

"Say it," The thin sunlight made the green in Julian's eyes dance. "I, Tiberius Blackthorn, will be fine."

Ty looked at the floorboards. "I'll be fine." He muttered, not meaning the words.

"You don't mean it," said Julian, as if he'd read his mind. "But you will. Keep speaking it over yourself, Ty, and you will."

Ty wanted to believe him. It was true, what Julian had said, that they wouldn't tear him apart.

Because, as Ty watched Julian drive away and was left with all these bags to unpack, he realised that he'd already been torn apart.

Without Livvy, without Julian, he wasn't whole. He was a threadbare version of himself.