Warning: None
Notes: 2nd POV - Wes
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Chapter 10: A game in the woods
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Harvey bought the cabin in the woods the night you asked what a firefly was. He had just looked at you, jaw hanging open before dropping the case files he had been reviewing and storming over to his computer.
The very next weekend, the three of you drove five-and-a-half hours deep into the hills of Pennsylvania.
You remember that first night clearly as Mike and Harvey led you outside, mason jars in hand.
"Alright, kiddo," Harvey said as he knelt down in front of you and handed you a jar, holes poked carefully into the lid, "this is what we're going to do."
And he explained how you had to try to catch as many of the lightning bugs as you could and whoever caught the most would decide what was for dinner.
You remember how your jar had glowed brighter and brighter as the forest darkened around you, how you and your dads had collapsed on the cabin porch – breathless and laughing as you counted and released each firefly.
Mike had won that first night, choosing fried chicken (made from scratch with great-grandma Ross' recipe) with mashed potatoes and grilled corn on the cob.
The next night, you and Harvey tied. You agreed that dinner would be steaks (grilled with a special dry rub that only great-grandma Ross could come up with) and grilled mixed vegetables and buttered biscuits.
The last night no one had won because at some point during catching the fireflies, Mike had changed the game into one of tag and hide-and-seek. The night had ended with Harvey and Mike disappearing upstairs while you laughingly yelled at them for being icky grown-ups.
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Standing in the cabin now, years after that first night you can't help but smile at an old and wrinkled slip of paper covered with dirt stains and faded ink.
On it was every date you and your dads went outside with the mason jars. You recognized Mike's slanted handwriting where he had written out each of your names and the amount of fireflies everyone had caught. There were even notes in the margin about what had been made for dinner.
You brushed a finger over the names and dates, smiling to yourself as you remembered.
That's when you felt Travis behind you as he placed a hand on your hips and kissed the side of your neck.
"What're you doing?" he asked.
"Nothing," you answered, "just reminiscing. It's been so long since I was here last."
You turned and brought Travis down for slow, brief kiss.
"You gonna be okay?" he asked, resting his forehead against yours.
You nodded and spared one last glance at the single paper – it had been the first of the many that now covered the fridge, almost hidden amongst various photos and drawings.
"I'll be fine," you said as you grabbed Travis' hand and went back out into the living room, out into the sea of people dressed in black.
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End.