A/N #1: I'm not sure who out there is interested in a sequel but since I stopped writing, I've literally gained five pounds (too much munching at night in front of the TV during winter). So, on the precipice of my 40th birthday this weekend, I've shut off the TV, taken my hand out of the cookie jar and started working on a new story.

As before, the premise is the same - this is still a story about three young brothers trying to adjust to life without their mother. Family dynamics, situational drama, discipline, trust and love remain the overall themes.

Four months later….

On the eve of Christmas Eve 1984, Norman Scott Hansen sat alone, sans one loyal, snoring dog, in the living room of the family home. The seventeen-year-old had a lot on his mind, all of which was keeping him from a restful night's sleep. A trip downstairs and a glass of milk were the only formidable weapons in Norman's arsenal for the battle against insomnia.

It was three o'clock in the morning and the world outside was still encased in icy darkness. The earlier snow had settled on the evergreen trees like fondant on a cake, hard and encrusted as it made its case for eternal winter. All that remained of the previous storm was a bitter, biting wind so strong that it traversed its way down the fireplace chute and deceptively crossed the floor of the quiet, modest two-story house.

The middle brother huddled the afghan throw blanket around his broad shoulders and contemplated starting a fire to chase away the chill. Instead, his eyes drifted over to the undecorated Christmas tree that waited patiently for someone to come and lovingly bestow it to its rightful place as the centerpiece of the sentimental season.

It's a strange, stupid tradition when you really think about it, Norman mentally brooded as the negative thoughts plaguing him all night got the better of him again. Who the hell cuts down a perfectly good tree and drags it into their house, only to decide it doesn't look right without lights and shiny, spinning objects hanging from it. Then, they put presents under it like some form of apology for taking its perfectly good life. The logic in the tradition eludes me.

With a snort that briefly disturbed Daisy's slumber, Norman turned away from the tree, with all its happy reminders of Christmases past, and put his chiseled chin in his hand. Oh, who the hell am I kidding? I love Christmas, dying tree and all. I just miss my Mom, more this time of year than ever, and I'm worried sick about Sig. I didn't think it was possible to miss someone so much, both of them. At least trying to keep Edgar from completely falling apart kept me from wallowing in my own dark misery. Damn it, that kid's gonna lose it if Sig doesn't make it home in time for Christmas! Damn this fucking winter weather keeping him from…

From out of a dead sleep, Daisy's silken head perked up, her ears alert and listening.

"What is it, girl?" Norman softly asked, straining his own inadequate human ears but catching no alarming sounds over the howling wind.

A second later, the back door that entered into the kitchen quietly opened.

Daisy took off like a blond rocket, headed in the direction of the intruder.

"Shit," Norman murmured, fear creeping up into his chest as he bravely followed the dog. Maybe the wind blew the back door open?

When he rounded the kitchen, a tall, dark figure shimmed its way into the home, obviously trying not to make a sound or get caught sneaking in.

Daisy growled low.

Norman wished he had his trusty baseball bat but that item had been long lost in a place that no longer existed. The knives sticking out of the counter butcher block would have to do in its stead.

Just then, a tuff of golden blond hair on the 'burglar' caught the single light left on in the kitchen. Spotting the flaxen color, Norman breathed a deep sigh of relief for so many reasons he couldn't pinpoint a single one.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me!" Norman exclaimed in a hushed tone from the kitchen archway.

Standing in the dimly lit kitchen, one meager shaft of light from the hood above the stove, a beloved and filthy older brother smiled and dropped his duffle bag on the linoleum floor.

"Looks like you weren't the only one," Sig said as he glanced with trepidation at the growling dog that had him cornered against the back door. "What, girl," he asked the canine, "I've been gone so long that you forgot who I am?"

At the sound of the familiar voice, Daisy's menacing, low growl rapidly turned into an excited whine. I know you! The tall guy is finally home! Where have you been? I've missed you sooooo much. Why are you sneaking into the house this late at night? And why the heck do you smell so…fishy?

The lab's entire countenance changed from aggressive to approachable in mere seconds. She jumped up and put her front paws on Sig's chest, desperately licking at his thick-stubbly cheeks with vigor.

Sig knelt down on the kitchen floor and let himself be 'attacked' with love for a few moments, laughing softly at the dog's exuberance.

"I was only gone a few months, Daze," the eighteen-year-old said with a deep giggle as the dog's moist tongue bequeathed his beard with saliva. He scratched and petted Daisy in all of her favorite places in an effort to make up for the lost time. "It wasn't all THAT long," Sig whispered as he nuzzled his nose into Daisy's neck.

Norman stood in the kitchen and watched his brother fuss over the family pet. From what his adjusting eyes could make out in the dim light, Sig seemed thinner and somehow impossibly taller than before he left. Perhaps it was the beard or the pounds of filth, dust and bits of crab guts still in his hair. Or it was the unmistakable air of authority that seemed to follow Sig in the back door.

Whatever it was, the change in his older brother brought back Edgar's prophetic words from last summer to the forefront of Norman's memory. 'Sig will come back but things will never be the same as they are now' was what the kid astutely uttered at some point during their last summer together.

Now, Norman felt a sense of uneasiness. Here was the guy he waited months for, finally home safe and sound. He wanted to put his big arms around Sig and tell him how truly happy he was that he was back. But was this the same guy that left, the one he grew up with and counted as his closest confident and friend?

"It felt like you were gone forever," Norman whispered quietly, the words slipping out of his mouth with heartfelt meaning.

Slowly, Sig disengaged from the dog and stood up straight. His tired, cobalt blue eyes locked onto Norman's face for the first time since he's hastily said goodbye in August. Sweetly, Sig's face broke into a sheepish smile over the tender confession.

Norman stared back at his big brother, feeling a lump rise up in his throat. The smile seemed to transform Sig back into the boy he once was, a kid Norman could recognize almost as easily his own face. Whoever he had become or however he changed, Sig was home and nothing else mattered at the moment.

With purposeful strides, Norman began erasing the space between them.

Sig anticipated a hug, or something of the sort, and selflessly put his hands up to stop his brother. "Dude, I've been stuck in an airport for three days. I stink to high…"

"Don't care," Norman said dismissively, grabbing Sig's outstretched hands and pulling him into a long-awaited bear hug. The middle brother wrapped his arms around Sig's neck and buried his face in Sig's jacket, almost coming close to sighing.

Sig chuckled and responded with a hearty hug in return. "Oh God, I missed you, too bro," he whispered, looking over Norman's shoulder and around the dark kitchen of his house. I've missed all of you…and this place…" And just being safe. Then, with a wave of relief washing over him, Sig buried his nose into Norman's shoulder and just enjoyed the simple yet powerful feelings of being loved and missed.

"I…We…we thought about you every day," Norman said with slight embarrassment. Although they had come a long way over the summer, 'open sharing' was still a tough thing for the tough guy.

"Same here," Sig said, running his hands across Norman's shoulders. He caressed Norman's thick neck and felt the short hairs of his younger brother's traditional crew cut.

Silently, they hugged for a long minute or two, just holding each other in the 'unmanliest' of fashions and not caring one wit.

"You were right," Norman finally admitted, his words muffled against Sig's jacket.

"About what?"

The middle brother patted Sig on the back and then step away from him. "You do stink," Norman said and then finished with a wicked smile.

Sig reached out and good-naturedly cuffed his brother on the head. "Brat," he grumbled with a laugh, "I warned you. I didn't have time to get a shower after we offloaded." He tossed off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door.

"Well, you need one…A LONG one," Norman shook his head, the odor getting worse with the wafting of the jacket.

"It's the first thing I'm gonna do," Sig ran his hands through his long, blond hair, "And then I'm gonna sleep for the next twenty-four hours straight."

"Oh, big brother," Norman chided, leaning against the kitchen table with his arms crossed over his chest, "There's something in between the shower and the bed for you to do first…something VERY important."

Sig raised a questioning eyebrow. A second later, it dawned on him like someone slapped him across the face. "Edgar," he said the name softly.

"If you don't wake him up ASAP and let him know you're home, he's libel to have a conniption fit when he wakes up in the morning and…there goes your 24 hours of straight sleep," Norman leaned over and made a motion to grab Sig's bag.

"Wait," Sig whispered, reaching out and stilling Norman's forearm, "How is he? I mean, how has he been?"

Norman stood back straight and opened his mouth. He hesitated for a mere second, less than a blink of an eye, but Sig caught the pause.

"How is he…REALLY?" Sig said in a steely calm voice, "And don't give me the bullshit song and dance I've been getting over the phone when I call."

"He's…managing," Norman shrugged, unable to come up with a better word, "I guess."

"YOU GUESS?" Sig hissed low, instantly wary, "What do you mean, you guess?"

"Damn, Sig," Norman raised his voice slightly with frustration, "I'm not with him 24/7. I've got a lot of shit going on right now, OK?"

"A lot of shit…" Sig sputtered out, taking a second to regain his cool. With a needed sigh, he closed his eyes and tried to re-focus. Still, the hurtful accusation trickled out of his cracked lips. "Edgar should have been your number one priority," the tall blond whispered.

Norman scrunched his face like he just got slapped. Yet, he fired back, "You've been gone for months. Don't walk through the door and start complaining about how things weren't done to YOUR satisfaction." Taking a quick breath, he explained, "Edgar is FINE…he's exactly how you left him…missing you and Mom and hating every minute of school. Me, on the other hand…" Norman shrugged and left it at that.

"You what?" Sig asked, now more than wary and downright worried. What the hell happened while I was gone? "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing that can't wait until morning…or another twenty four hours," Norman said with a painted-on smile. "Come on, you've only been home a minute or two…let's not start arguing already."

Sig's shoulders relaxed. He put a hand on Norman's thick shoulder and nodded his head. "You're absolutely right, Norm. I'm…I'm sorry. I'm so exhausted I don't even want a smoke before bed."

"Then you should be this tired all the time, even if you ARE extra grumpy for it," Norman chuckled. He picked up Sig's duffle bag and they both walked out of the kitchen, a dog in their wake.

"Try rushing to port to make an offload date and a plane through the worst storm of the season. I didn't sleep for days even BEFORE I got off the boat." Sig went on, "At least, I thought I had a plane to catch."

Daisy jumped up on Dad's easy chair, spun around three times and laid down in a tight ball of fur.

"Turns out, I was stuck for days, just trying to get out of Dutch," Sig complained, "Only when I got out, I was stuck with the same cancellation nightmare in Anchorage for another three days. Thankfully, the airport in Seattle offered me a free shuttle ride home. What they didn't tell me was I'd be the last stop on the trip."

"Should've called me. I would have picked you up at the airport," Norman grumbled.

"It was late. I didn't want to wake everyone up," Sig explained, "I've never been so dirty and tired in my entire life."

Norman listened intently, nodding and making the appropriate noise to indicate he was sympathetic to Sig's horrible experience.

Halfway into the living room, Sig came to a sudden halt. Something in the corner of the living room caught his eye and he slowly pointed over to it as if confused. "Is that our Christmas tree?" he asked as he stared hard at the object.

"Yup."

"Why…" he turned and looked at his younger brother, "…why is it just sitting in the corner, propped up against the wall with nothing on it?"

"Edgar insisted we wait for you to decorate it," Norman shrugged.

"Oh," Sig didn't know what else to say. He did wonder what his family would have done if he hadn't made it home in time for Christmas, "You decorated the outside. Looks good."

"Thanks."

"I saw the Steward's place is dark."

"Sale sign was taken down last week," Norman enunciated, "Looks like we'll be getting new neighbors pretty soon. Weird, though, because no one came to look at it…at least that I noticed."

"Hmmm," Sig hummed, changing the topic, "Dad get the tree?"

"Yes," Norman quietly ascended the stairs, "On one of his many secret rendezvous."

"Secret rendezvous?" Sig blindly followed behind his brother, "What the hell are you talking about?"

"SHHH…" Norman hissed, stopping mid-way on the stairs and turning around. Lowering his voice, he quietly explained, "Edgar doesn't realize this…NOR does he need to right now with Christmas and all…but…" The tough guy wrinkled his nose and said the words like they left a bitter taste in his mouth, "…I think dad may have…a girlfriend."

Sig's eyes almost popped out of his head, "WHAT?"

"SHHH…" Norman chided his brother again, "If you want that shower and some sleep, I suggest you keep your voice down. Otherwise, you'll wake up Dad and he'll want a full report right this second. And if that's the case, you should have called for a ride home."

"Jesus," Sig muttered, following behind Norman as he walked up the steps, "I'm just…shocked." He whispered with immediate denial, "Are you sure?"

Evenly, Norman uttered, "Pretty sure. The retired fishermen's club has been gossiping about it for weeks now. Apparently, she's a widow…like Dad."

"Maybe they're just friends," Sig said in a hushed tone, "You know how those old guys like to make a mountain out of a molehill for their own amusement."

Norman reached Sig's room, opened the door and tossed the duffle bag onto the freshly made bed. Anticipating his big brother's return, Edgar had changed the sheets and devotedly dusted and aired out the stale room several days ago.

As Sig passed close behind Norman and began unloading the contents of his bag, Norman leaned in and whispered right in Sig's ear, "Dad didn't come home last Saturday night," he imparted the knowledge onto his brother with a smug, 'know-it-all' facial expression, "Maybe he just stayed over HER house, playing Parcheesi and Monopoly all night long…like good friends do."

Sig's jaw dropped to the floor and stared at his brother in disbelief.

"Yeah," Norman tilted his head to the side and pointed at his brother's face, "That was exactly the same reaction I had when I woke up Sunday morning and Dad was just rolling in from the night before…smelling like old lady perfume."

"Holy…shit…" Sig exclaimed when he found his voice, putting the flat of his palm on his forehead like he was checking for a fever.

"And with that," Norman hastily reached over and gave his brother a quick hug, then detached himself and said, "…I'll leave the rest to your imagination."

Sig choked, feeling the bile rising up in his throat. "Ummm…NO THANK YOU."

"Goodnight, bro," Norman gave his brother a wide smile, "Sweet dreams."

"Jerk," Sig hissed, smiling as the insult held no malice, "After that information, I'll be lucky to have a dreamless sleep."

Norman chuckled. No one could make him laugh like his older brother. Likewise, no one could drive him up the wall like his older brother, either, but that was usually when he needed some well-timed distraction in his life. And, right now, Norman could use some distraction. "It's good you're home," he said, growing solemn, "I…I mean that, Sig."

"I'm VERY, VERY glad to be home," Sig said with all seriousness, "I just wish I would have gotten home sooner. The airport doesn't have much variety when it comes to Christmas shopping."

"You walking in the back door was the only Christmas present I wanted," Norman blushed bashfully and turned away, scurrying to his room before he lost his man card.

Sig watched him go, leaving his eyes on the empty doorway. In all the time he was away, he never forgot how much his family meant to him. In fact, the time apart had only solidified the importance of the three men in his life; his father, his younger brother and his kid brother. However, in this moment, he was reminded of how important HE was in THEIR lives.

But who else had become important in their lives while I was away? Dad may have a girlfriend…do they call it that at his age…or would it be more apropos to say a 'lady-friend?' How is that going to affect our family? And what's bothering Norman that he's stalling about telling me? And why do I get the feeling something is already up with Edgar? Or maybe it's just the old things bothering him, like not having Mom around?

Taking a moment to glance around his old room, Sig shook his head and wondered what other changes had taken place in his absence. Then, with a wry smile, he laughed sarcastically at his own thoughts. What changes? Wasn't I ALWAYS looking for answers to these questions?

Finding his grooming kit deep within the recesses of his duffle bag, Sig took a clean pair of clothes, headed to the bathroom and proceeded to get the longest shower of his life.

After scrubbing his skin and hair twice and finally getting rid of the crab smell, the oldest brother was just too damn tired to shave his beard. Deciding sleep was more imperative than a clean-shaven face, Sig towel dried his hair and changed into the first clean shirt, cotton pants and boxers that he'd worn in days. He couldn't help but notice that his pants hung loose around his waist.

Picking up his toothbrush, Sig gave the reflection in the mirror a half-hearted grimace. He still looked like shit despite the shower. Hair overgrown, dark circles the size of baseballs under his eyes and gaunt cheeks made him look like a wild man come in from the woods. Still, as his mother always insisted, he'd have clean teeth before going to bed.

Teeth clean and wearing fresh clothes, Sig felt more human than he had in a long time. Shutting out the bathroom light, he left the bathroom and traveled towards Edgar's bedroom door. As if his stomach sensed the upcoming unconsciousness, Sig's belly grumbled, reminding him that it had been deprived of food for the last twelve hours.

Even if he had the energy to go downstairs, Sig couldn't even muster enough stamina to eat. The long travels had left him feeling like an egg sizzling on a hot skillet and he was practically asleep on his feet. Food, along with a clean face, would have to wait.

Entering Edgar's room without a sound, Sig softly shut the door behind him and adjusted his eyes to the darkness. As with most snowstorms, the night sky was still orange in color and cast a meager light from the bedroom window.

On tiptoes, Sig made his way over to Edgar's bed. Taking a few stolen moments to himself, Sig gazed softly at the 'baby' of the Hansen family.

The dim light made it difficult to see if Edgar had grown or changed physically in his absence. The lump in the bed did seem longer than before but Sig was so used to the harshness of hardened, grown fishermen over the last few months that the innocent face of his youngest brother made Edgar seem all the more child-like.

Edgar lay sleeping quietly on his stomach, his right cheek snuggled into his fluffly pillow. As usual, his hands were buried underneath the pillow but Sig would bet his life savings there was a ring from Seattle High School's Class of 1984 on one of those hidden hands.

Sig anticipated an emotional reaction from his kid brother, actually looking forward to the affection coming his way and getting to wake up his brother with a homecoming surprise. But, in truth, he just wanted to climb into the big bed with his little brother, curl up together and fall asleep.

It seemed ridiculous to wake Edgar up, only to tell him to go back to sleep. Jesus, the kid's gonna have a hundred questions, just like always.

But Sig was ready to deal with the questions if it meant he could lie down in the warm, inviting bed.

Reaching out, Sig placed his palm on Edgar's back. He leaned over and whispered in the boy's one exposed ear, "Merry Christmas, kid."

A few seconds later, Sig had a thirteen-year-old clinging to his neck and sobbing gently into his shoulder.

"Am I dreaming?" Edgar finally whispered.

Sig grabbed the teen tightly to his chest. "No, baby. I'm home."

"I…I didn't think you would make it," Edgar sobbed.

"For a while there, I didn't think I was going to make it, either," Sig hugged Edgar with a nuzzle to his temple.

Something scratching caught Edgar's attention. He unwrapped his arms from around his brother and pulled back. Tears quietly streaming down his face, Edgar studied his oldest brother as if he'd never seen him before.

With a curious look, he reached out a hand and rubbed at Sig's beard, the ring on his finger glimmering in the pale light.

"You like it?" Sig asked, patiently allowing his brother to inspect his furry face. He took the liberty of wiping the remaining tears off Edgar's cheek.

Edgar continued to run his hand over the wiry hair. "It makes you look so…different."

"Hmmm…" Sig closed his eyes and enjoyed the gentle touch, "…it'll be gone tomorrow…by Christmas, definitely." The tender touch and the soft bed under his sore, tired backside were starting to have a soothing, hypnotic effect. The eighteen-year-old almost fell asleep sitting up and he had to catch himself from toppling over.

"Edgar," Sig said sleepily, "Move over before I fall over."

Obligingly, Edgar shifted over to the other side of the spacious bed and watched Sig practically fall into the now vacant and very warm spot. Within seconds, Sig was fast asleep but not before putting an arm around his brother and pulling him close to his side.

Edgar lay in the darkness, listening to his brother's even breathing and questioning again if this was a dream. If it's a dream, then I don't want to wake up. He snuggled close to Sig, mentally listing out all the questions he was going to ask his brother when he woke up. But the first order of business was to give Sig his ring back.

The ring had resided on Edgar's index finger since the moment Sig placed it there for safe keeping. Playing with it now, shifting the cool metal back and forth with his thumb, Edgar was loathed to give up the treasured item. But it means Sig's home! And nothing is more valuable than THAT! I can't wait to show him how responsible I was in keeping it safe, just like he wanted me to. I love making him proud of me. AND, my show of responsibility in the case of the ring MAY just offset the atrocious report card that will be coming home after the holidays.

Oww, who the hell am I kidding? Once that report card comes home, I'm not going to see the light of day.

Spinning the ring like a talisman, Edgar contemplated how familiar he'd become with having the jewelry on his finger. He especially liked wearing it around Norman, comparing and contrasting it with Norman's 1985 class ring that never left the big guy's finger. But, as much as I will miss Sig's ring, it will be good to see it on his hand again. He lost it, once…well, he gave it away…traded it, really…for my life...let's not think about THAT….

Edgar burrowed under Sig's arm and tried to go back to sleep. Yet, he was too excited now, having his brother home, to fall back asleep that easily. Finally allowing himself to get lost in the spirit of Christmas, Edgar started planning out how they were going to decorate the tree as well as some other traditions that had yet to be honored this Yuletide season.

For an hour or so, the kid lay awake, planning and thinking and enjoying that he had two weeks off from school. Mostly this time was spent surrounded by the presences of his big brother, a signal that Edgar was safe and secure.

That's not to say Edgar hadn't been safe and secure while Sig was gone but, despite how much his father and Norman tried to attend to him, their own lives had kept them busy. Dad seemed to be enjoying the retired life, sleeping late and running with the 'Silver Fox' club. Norman, in particular, had been tremendously pre-occupied lately with school, work and his girlfriend, Amanda.

Recently, Edgar got the feeling something was going on with Norman and Amanda, although he couldn't put his finger on exactly what that something was.

As Edgar made a valiant effort to fall asleep, Sig started to stir next to him.

Edgar froze, holding his breath for fear of waking his exhausted brother with his mere breathing.

After a lonesome four weeks of First Mate training, including all his medical certifications, Sig had spent the better part of the following months focused on learning, via on-the-job training, from his surly co-captain and simply surviving the unforgiving elements. Bringing the crab, the men and the boat home safely had kept the young man mentally occupied. There was no time to think about the half-dozen times he'd almost died.

Having only been out on the boat on short, local trips in the summer, when the weather was typically calmer, Sig was awestruck by the towering waves that seemed to dwarf the 125 ft. Northwestern. Storms came and went so quickly that they seemed to ride on the heels of each other, never breaking or letting up. Then, seeing one of the men injured by a swinging picking hook chilled Sig to the bone. For a while, Sig had to go on deck to make up for the temporary loss of able-bodied hands.

But, in the end, it was the sheer vastness of the big, dark ocean that had left an indelible impression. Until a person has experienced utter isolation, and in the harshest of places with the only aid hundreds of miles away, it is otherwise an unimaginable nightmare.

Now Sig no longer had to use his imagination. It had become a reality.

Naturally, with his guard down in sleep, Sig's mind returned to the vast, frightening ocean. Except, this time, his mind didn't leave him with a ship under his feet.

Dreams of drowning caused Sig to toss and turn in the bed, his actions mimicking his fight against sinking down into the dark abyss.

Edgar could see from his brother's contorted facial expressions that Sig was lost in a nightmare. Yet, the kid was at a loss as to how to handle the situation. More times than he cared to remember, Edgar had been woken up by his older brothers during a horrific nightmare. But they had always been there to sooth him back to sleep. This reversal left Edgar wondering if he had the ability to sooth anyone back to sleep, especially his oldest brother and certified hero.

Maybe I should get Norman, was the only suitable solution Edgar could come up with. But, as he rose on his elbows, Sig awoke with a jolt.

Sitting up, panting for breath and placing a hand over his racing heart, Sig glanced around the familiar bedroom and repeatedly told himself it was just a nightmare. Happens to fishermen ALL the time, especially when they just get home from a long trip. I just didn't think it would be so realistic.

"You OK?" a small, male voice whispered from behind him. Sig turned his head to the side and looked down, finding concerned green eyes staring back at him.

"Yeah," Sig whispered back, lying back among the pillows. He stared up at the ceiling and, with one arm, pulled Edgar up against his chest. "Just a nightmare."

"Now you're having nightmares?" Edgar tried to sound lighthearted, "I thought I had the market in this family when it came to bad dreams."

"Hmmm…I guess not," Sig absentmindedly rubbed Edgar's back, "Have you had any lately…since I've been gone?"

"When you first left…some…but not nearly as many now," Edgar answered honestly.

Sig was silent for a moment. Then, he confessed, "It was truly scary out there…so much more so than I could have imagined."

"YOU were scared?" Edgar raised his head and put his chin on Sig's chest, "I can't believe it."

"I wouldn't lie to you, buddy," Sig smiled at the disbelief in the kid's eyes, "I almost shit my pants a few times."

Edgar playfully punched his brother's rib and laid his head back down, cheek over Sig's heart. "You're joshing."

Sig only smiled and tightly held his brother as he shifted down under the covers. "Just wait. In a few years, when you're out there on the boat with me, you may believe otherwise."

"Sig?"

"Yeah, kid?"

Edgar listened to his brother's calming heartbeat. He could feel the rise and fall of Sig's chest against his cheek with each inhale and exhale. Finally, sleep started to catch up to the young teen. "As long as you're with me," he muttered before he closed his eyes and drifted off, "I'll never be afraid."

Sig smiled into the darkness. Then I will be scared enough for the both of us. Despite being still, his body felt like it was still in motion. He likened the feeling to being on roller skates for a long time and then taking them off and sitting down.

Letting the swaying carry him off, Sig quickly fell back asleep, dreaming of the silent snow covering the earth.

~tbc

A/N #2 – Next chapter will focus on a little Christmas family fluff and just some general brotherly love. Then, some new neighbors will shake things up and a tragic accident will change the course of 1985 for the Hansen family.

I'll try to update bi-weekly but no promises…reviews may help motivate me to push for quicker updates (AND keep me from raiding the kitchen at 9pm). In the future, A/Ns will be minimal but that doesn't mean I don't like to hear from people reading along.

Special acknowledgment - hpfan4evernow is my amazing Beta on this journey so she gets a wealth of credit for phrasing things just right and keeping my grammar from looking like a middle school student's. I am one very lucky girl to have her in my corner!