Intro/Author's Note/Welcome to my head-cannon: In my mind, Blaine's dad is in the army. Don't ask me why, it just came to me. That is why he had him build the car with him—it was his attempt at 'manning him up' a little before his impending deployment.

Mom is the big-business type person, in contrast to what a lot of people may think. She works weekends sometimes, and is not exactly hovering over her children all the time.

Thus, protective Blaine.

In no way are Blaine and Del neglected, just very, very, very independent—except when it comes to each other. They need each other.

So, ENJOY!

At three-thirty in the morning, on a Tuesday like any other, she was jolted awake by a hand on her shoulder and a small light in her face, the images of her most recent nightmare fresh in her mind.

"Del," her brother whispered. "Del, wake up!"

She was panting, and she could feel her heart pounding in her chest.

"Del," he repeated. "Del, it's okay…it's okay."

She leaned against her headboard, still shaking, clutching a pillow to her chest, fighting back tears, dazed to the world.

"What happened?" he asked quietly, tucking his still glowing phone into his pocket.

With a gasp she turned towards him, as if she was only realizing his presence then. "W-what…?"

"What's wrong, Del?" He took a seat on the edge of the bed next to her. "What happened?"

"…D-dad…" she stammered.

His sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her close. "Don't worry. He's okay. You're okay. We're all okay."

"B-but it wasn't just him this time…" she continued.

"What do you mean?"

"I…It wasn't just him. There were more people…in the helicopter. I…it's like I was watching it all happen…like a movie or something…" She buried her face in her pillow.

"Shhh, it's okay." He could think of nothing else to tell her.

Their dad had been deployed to Afghanistan sixteen months ago. Del and Blaine didn't know a whole lot about what he did there, just the fact that he flew helicopters.

In the beginning, Del had nightmares almost every other night, but after a while they had become farer and farer between. Lately, it seemed they had stopped.

But then nights like this would happen, and he would be reminded that the sarcastic and fiercely independent attitude Del had mastered was nothing but a façade.

From what he had been able to gather from her in the state of semi-awareness he found her in every time he woke her, whimpering, from one of her nightmares, the same thing happened every time, with variations thrown in here and there: their dad was in one of his helicopters, and it crashed.

She mumbled something into her pillow that he couldn't understand.

"What?"

Slowly, she lifter her head and looked him directly in the eyes. "You were there."

"Oh…Del…" he said almost pleadingly, rubbing her shoulder.

To have your room right across from your sibling's, and a long hallway away from your parents', is both a blessing and a curse. Simply to be born a big brother is both a blessing and a curse. To be the man of the house (despite what your mother says) is both a blessing and a curse.

"How long 'til he's back?" she whimpered into her pillow.

He pulled out his phone again, and flipped through a calendar. "Two-hundred and seven days."

"That's too long." The truth resounding in those three little words was astounding.

"Yeah."

"Blaine?" she asked weakly, still speaking down into her pillow.

"Hmm?"

"Are you going to join the army?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Did Dad want you to?"

"I think maybe a little bit."

She was silent for a minute.

"I miss him, too," he said. The words had just fallen out of his mouth without thinking about it.

People often told them that it was like they could read each other's minds. Of course they thought it was funny, but never really took it to heart. Sure, they understood each other's mannerisms and what certain expressions meant. Heck, they could probably have an entire silent conversation with just their eyebrows, but mind reading?

Tonight, right then and there, he believed it.

"Go back to sleep," she said drowsily, yawning.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, yes…get off my bed."

He smiled a little and stood. If she was back to being bossy, she would be fine.

"G'night," he said and turned towards the door, hearing her slide back under her comforter and settle back to sleep.

Alone in his room a few minutes later, he lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. Truth be told, there were still nights when he was stirred from sleep—or worse, kept awake—by thoughts of the realities of life…but no one needed to know that.

Not Del…not anyone.

He heard his mother stir. He knew it was her; she was the only one in the house that snored.

She didn't need to know either.

He was the strong one now, and as much as his mom wanted to tell him otherwise, he knew he had to be…just for two-hundred and seven more days.

So he tried to clear his mind, and rolled over, thinking of things that were at least half-happy…

Del was fast asleep, calm again.

His mom was asleep too, blissfully unaware of anything that would have made Del anything but calm.

He only had two hundred and seven days left…

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