He wasn't sure what brought him here, to this tiny little white house in this tiny little town where he knew she lived. It wasn't as if he had the right to show up on her doorstop, as if she'd want to see him, especially today. But he'd missed so many of her birthdays, and he couldn't stop himself from coming here for this one, her fortieth, just like he couldn't stop himself from lifting his hand and knocking on her door.
He didn't know the man who opened it, this grown man – god, were they really this old? – who was obviously her son, smiling at him as if former friends that have long become strangers showed up there every day. He probably didn't recognize him anyways, god only knew he looked so much different now, so much older.
And then there she was, smiling and laughing with a silly 'happy birthday!' tiara on her head, walking up to the door, asking who was there. He almost turned away, not wanting to see her face drop when she realized who it was. She stilled, words dying on her lips and her son turned to her, instantly asking if she was alright. She shushed him, and stepped forward, a tremulous and small – but oh god, gorgeous - smile on her lips as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, voice so much softer then he remembered it, whispering, hey, sugah. how are you?
He almost sobbed, relieved beyond belief, and returned the hug, oh, god, i missed you, rogue.
It was so nice to be home, even if he was 21 years late getting back.