Sorry for the delay, my dear readers, but here it is. Review!

Family is not an important thing. It's everything.

Matthew White had awoken to a day like any other.

The sky was as it always was: Cloudy. Gray. Finite. Yet black crows lurked on the nearby telephone poles, watching him with keen, beady eyes. The sun's cheerful rays were lost within the dark puffs drifting above, but the summer heat still managed to create a somehow unsettling rippling haze.

It was the same. Everything was no different from how he remembered it, yet the smallest things made Matt feel like there was something going on. Something big.

There was nothing to fear, nothing at all to feel uneasy about, in yet there was some foreign feeling nagging at him deep inside as he opened his eyes when he awoke; as he murmured it in his head. The feeling continued to bother him as he rose, hesitantly climbing out of the comfort of his bed, and forced himself to dress. It continued to grow further as he walked out of his front door, locking it behind him.

Matt did not know why but somehow he knew, somewhere deep inside, something was going to happen that day.

An event, the reveal of a specific piece of information- there was something that was supposed to occur. Something... important.

Like a memory out of reach (like the remains of a scattered dream...) his mind knew this, and his muscles tensed with an anxiousness he could not place.

But as he strolled down the concrete sidewalks, and passed the familiar shops, homes, and riverbeds, he could not identify any immediate changes.

Every rock and pebble was accounted for, every telephone pole where it should be, and every sign the same as he could last recall it.

All day, every person he passed made him uneasy. Every truck or car, tense. And although he was certain there was no one following or watching him, he felt as if he could sense something. Was it how Lea sometimes felt, with her revelations? He had no means of knowing.

His instincts were screaming at him that something was wrong, that he should sit back and study his surroundings more, but the closer he tried to peer into the details of the world around him, the less he seemed to see.

So Matthew White hadn't listened to his instincts. He hadn't listened to the voice in the back of his mind, whispering for him to return home for the day.

He hadn't known.

He hadn't known this day was so different in yet so similar to the ones he had lived before.

And now, as he was singing a song he had heard on the radio (he knew he didn't have the best voice. He didn't care, either.) It was supposed to be over then. It was supposed to be simple.

But nothing about this day had been simple, had it...?

Nothing. There was nothing now.

It... stopped.

All at once, the world seemed to cease spinning.

Time didn't move. The earlier birds fluttering in the breeze were still, discarded feathers frozen in the air. All the sharp sounds and vivid colors of the world seemed to disappear, and not a single breeze could be felt...

In yet, Matt felt a distinctive chill.

Slowly, hesitantly, he lifted his gaze. Directly across from him, in the very front of the window, standing in the rippling of the heated haze, was a boy. His skin was tanned, he could see so in the dark, and his hair was fair, blond, and his eyes... his eyes were the color of deep hazel.

What unnerved Matt the most was that he knew this boy.

He then tried to shrug it off, tried to focus more on his voice, but when the boy had answered, he knew this wasn't real.

A nightmare...

Yes, he must be in the clutches of some bad dream, tormented by the darkest depths of his brain. Even if it was different from the other ones he had, it didn't - wouldn't, shouldn't, couldn't matter.

After all, it was just a dream...

A meaningless unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary dream...

The boy, for whatever reason, had abruptly stopped. Who gave him permission to look so damn vulnerable, and in so much need of a hug?

"…Matt?" the voice was soft, hesitant, as if not to alarm a wild animal. "Matt…don't…don't you recognize me?" it gained a desperate edge. "It's me, Vale."

Of course it had to be that name. His little brother. It was a pity it had to end, it was being such a good dream so far…

He just had to focus on a difference, one little difference. He had to choose, though, there seemed to be many. The rumble of his vocal chords was deeper. Older. Not by much. Not by much…

He was a little taller than he remembered, but he was still small. His hair was long and unkempt, (Matt congratulated himself, he had never imagined him in such a bad shape) his pants were practically rags, too short for him, in contrast with his oversized red jacket, which looked new and only added to the appearance of fragility.

"Has he always been this thin?" he found himself thinking, before shaking his head and closing his eyes. He opened them again.

…Why hadn't he awoken in his room? Why was he still there? And why, for God's sake, was that boy coming closer to him?

"You have to believe me…" the brown eyes were wide, pleasing, desperate, and felt so very very wrong. Maybe he should try touching him, it always made him awake the first times. As the boy gave yet another step, inches away from the older one, Matt noticed a white, long, ragged scar on his face. Wha… Vale isn't supposed to have any scars…

"Please…"

In confusion, he lifted his hand to trace the scar…and found out that he could. The boy hadn't vanished from his sight, neither his surroundings. Matt could see him shudder but let him continuing. Matt looked from his scar to his eyes, hardly daring to believe it.

"You are here." he uttered, as hesitant as the voice of the boy's –Valentine, his brother—had been. "You are here!" he said in realization, a grin unfolding across his face.

Up to age nine, Valentine White had never believed in God. He had never believed there was some being murmuring in his ear, manipulating his thoughts and actions. He had never believed there was an invisible hand pulling puppet strings, pushing him towards his inescapable fate. He had never believed the events in his life were decided before he even knew it, or that his future was dictated even before then, before his birth. (he had been proven wrong, not God but someone else…)

But as he saw the sparkle of recognition in his adoptive brother's face, he began to thank every God he could think of: Zeus, Thor, Allah, God, it didn't matter who. It was over, finally, finally over; he had made it, he had come. And he could hear nothing but his own name being whispered over and over, inhaling his brother's scent, feeling the exhaustion of the last days (or was it years?) catching up with him, almost enough to make him collapse.

While listening to Matt's mantra, he wondered if that was a good sign. Sure, he'd be happy to see him, but what if he changed his mind? What if he hated him for leaving? God, how could he not hate him? The pit of his stomach twisted, and he felt undeniably weak and nauseous and guilty as he whispered above Matt's softer ones, his voice dry and hoarse:

"I'm sorry…Matt, I'm sorry…I'm sorry…"

"Don't." his brother raised his voice a bit. "Don't you dare to apologize." They separated, but Matt didn't want to let him go yet. Vale himself found he craved for the touch, so didn't offer any resistance.

"I'm serious. We know why you did it." Matt trailed off when Vale shifter to look at him. He wasn't sure eyes were supposed to be able to be that big. The smaller boy just nodded.

Matt suddenly remembered something. Vale had been awfully quiet before he left, and absolutely refused to come out of the house. Then there was his letter… Maybe it was the house itself which kept him protected?

They still weren't inside, which mean, there still was the possibility of his brother being taken away. One thing was certain, Matthew wouldn't be relieved until his brother was safe. Almost possessively, fearfully, he held Vale in his arms tighter, before regretfully separating from him.

"We should go inside. I'm sure the others are missing you." He said, grabbing one of the jacket's sleeves to pull him forwards. (how the hell did he get that jacket, anyway?)

Though the walk through the streets towards his home had seemed lengthy, with Matt by his side, and considering where they were, the few steps inside took a surprisingly short time. Matt could not wait to tell his family, and it was with quickening excitement that he entered the house, Vale lagging a little behind him.

"Come, come." Matt urged his brother excitedly, failing to understand why he'd be so hesitant (Did he actually thought they'd hate him?) He looked at his newfound brother in concern.

"Do you want to sit down? No offense, but you look like you're going to pass out again."

Vale nodded cautiously, since he did feel a little faint now that he thought about it, and gingerly moved to the couch. Matt moved with him, immediately slumping down the comfortable cushions, but Vale stopped just before he reached the seat.

Having seen Vale's reluctance, Matt asked. "What's wrong?"

Vale's cheeks flushed red, and lowered his gaze to the ground.

"I'm dirty." Vale whispered. "My clothes…I'll get the couch dirty."

"Hey Valen," Matt started, his expression one of concern. "Mom…she won't mind, honestly."

"Okay." Vale choked out and mechanically lowered himself down onto the couch, only for him to stand quickly. Matt's confused gaze was interrupted by furious barks. Matt watched in shock as Kobu ran from the kitchen and Vale quickly backing away.

"Seems like that mutt remembers me." Vale muttered without taking his eyes off the dog.

"Hey, Kobu, hey stop. This is Vale." Matt tried to make his new pet to stop growling, succeeding in making him sit.

"That thing nearly bit my hand off when I was seven, Matt!" Vale growled, before he went still.

"What's wrong? Matt? Are you all right?" Matt smiled when he heard his parents' voices.

"It's okay, everything's fine. More than fine, I'm great. There's someone here."

"What do you mean? Who-?"

"Oh my God..." Julian whispered putting his hand on his face. In their living room stood their long lost son. They were silent for minutes analyzing how much each other had changed. How Julian's hair was beginning to turn gray over the edges. How Marie's was longer. How Vale seemed to be covered in dirt and scars.

Minutes became too awkward so Vale decided to speak.

"Hey mom... hey dad..." Vale said softly. He couldn't face them, he couldn't bare to see their disappoint, he couldn't bare to see them upset. Marie moved forward and captured Vale in a hug.

"Oh God, my baby…" she said softly through the tears. Vale leaned into the touch, realizing how much he had missed it…that caring, protective touch. The only way he had been touched was violently. Constantly pushed, pulled, shoved, hit. Nothing was ever gentle…soothing. His mom said nothing, only moved a hand to card her way through Vale's tangled hair.

"You'd think Belloc could find time for a haircut every now and again. I'll have to do something about it. And did he even let you eat? I can count your ribs just by hugging you. And you look so tired, you have bags under your eyes again. I need to fatten you up before the wind blows you again." She hesitated and her lip quivered. "You know I love you, right?"

"Of course I do, I love you too."

Julia waited until she finally released him to hug him as well. He didn't hug him as long as she did, but he held onto him tightly, so happy and relieved to finally have his son back.

"I thought I'd never see you again." He said, his voice hoarse from holding back tears. "I thought you were never coming home."

Vale smiled weakly. "It took me longer that I expected." He said, his eyes darting across the room, looking for the youngest member of their family.

"Where's Le?" he asked when they separated. "I know she's healed, but where is she?"

"How did you…?" Julian asked puzzled, but seemed to decide he didn't want to know. "I accidentally covered her with flour, she's in the bathroom."

"I'm sure she'll be delighted to see you." Marie said, trying to inject some cheerfulness into her tone. "First though, I think perhaps you might like a shower."

Vale blushed, but when he looked into Marie's face, he saw no pity or disgust there. He didn't speak, but he nodded reluctantly and followed her out of the room and up the stairs, into Matt's (and his?) bedroom, where she revolved the wardrobe until she got what she was looking for.

"Now, here are some of Matt's old clothes for you to wear when you've cleaned yourself up a bit."

Vale opened his mouth almost at once, but Marie quickly interrupted any protests he had.

"I don't want any arguments. These don't fit Matt anymore and you used to wear his clothes more often that your own."

"Okay Mom." Vale murmured, taking the offered bundle of clothes cautiously.

"Take as long as you need, Vale." Marie said as she gestured the bathroom after noticing his reluctance. "There'll be some food waiting for you when you're finished."

She said this last statement casually, but in truth she was deadly serious. The boy in front of her was in need of a decent meal. As she walked down the stairs, she heard the bathroom's door opening, and knowing Lea was going to come out. She hoped their meeting would go well.

When Lea was half the way to get fully dressed, she realized she had forgotten her socks and shoes. Pulling at her gem, an habit she had developed, she walked out of the bathroom, with the misfortune of slipping on the still humid floor.

She didn't make it to the floor. A pair of hands caught her while she was in the process of heading hands-first to the floor. The girl blinked in confusion before she lifted her gaze from the floor and immediately backed away from brown eyes. She would have slipped again if the boy hadn't caught her. Blushing furiously, she broke free from his grasp while looking where she was stepping.

"Thanks." She said casually, trying to distract the boy's attention from her.

"No problem." The blond boy said, looking as though holding back a laugh. "You haven't changed, Le, have you?" a grin uncurled on his face.

"How do you know my name, and what do you mean?" And what happened to you?! She almost asked, seeing the state of the visitor. The grin slipped from his face.

"You don't know me?"

Vale's mind was a whirlwind. The world could be so complicated for him. Even when he got something right, it could still go wrong. How was he supposed to tell his nine year old sister who he was? And more importantly, how would she take it?

How can you not remember me?

Don't you remember the one who was always with you, even when you were on a bad mood?

Have I changed that much?

Have I been gone for so long you forgot you other half?

You still have my gem, I see. Do you still think of me, at least? Do you hate me? Talk, Le. I need to know.

"You do look familiar…" she trailed off, before shaking her head a bit. "Who are you?"

Vale smiled. "Who am I?" he asked back, kneeling before her and putting a hand to his chest. He touched where he knew was his golden spot, dulled. Lea gasped.

And her green eyes recovered their usual sparkle.

Lea lunged at him, almost strong enough to make him fall. He pulled her closer, enjoying the feeling of having her in her arms.

"I knew you would come, I knew it, I knew it." She repeated over and over again, her voice choked up. Vale wiped his face hastily.

"I promised I'd never leave without you. Belloc isn't someone who breaks promises, but then again, neither am I."

Lea growled a bit before separating from him. "Don't mention him. What happened to you?"

"I'll explain it later, Little Seer." Vale said, enjoying the way the girl's eyes shined when he said that old nickname. "Mom told me to take a bath, I really need it." He sighed, but Lea wouldn't let go of him, no matter how he tried, she was clinging to him like a lifeline.

"I guess the bath will have to wait, huh?" the boy shook his head as his sister finally released him and pulled him back downstairs.

"You have a lot to catch up, I have so much to tell you. Did you know Darren beat Troy up? Seems like he was upset with me falling so he took matters on his own hands. At least, that's when he told me…"

Staring at the few pieces of coal in his hands, he frowned. He had eaten only the foul taste of his own hungry breath for what felt like weeks, and still, nothing.

He set two aside and devoured the third. The noise was astounding. Surely Belloc himself could hear the sound of the coal crushing in his mouth. It broke his teeth with every bite. When he drank, he was quite positive that he was swallowing them. Next time, he advised himself, drink first.

"Done." Vale said, looking up to his Mom. She looked at him with a concerned expression.

"Vale, I know you don't feel very hungry, but you must eat." The redheaded woman replied, eyeing the jacket that hung off his very thin frame, only serving to extenuate the boy's skinniness.

Vale sighed and turned his attention towards a little amount of meat that was on one side of his plate. Unwillingly, he picked up a slice and nibbled at it. The flavor was as indescribably wonderful as he remembered. His stomach began to roil as he finished the first bite. Accepting that for them he looked as if he needed the food, he ate a little more willingly.

Glancing down, he saw that another slice of meat had been added to his plate along with a small mountain of coal. He swallowed down nausea but wouldn't object. Trying not to see the food, he began to eat it without looking about to see the pleased, faintly relieved expression of his mom. He ate almost half of the mountain of food before he was in imminent danger of making a mess. He had long ago learned that any discomfort he had should be kept to himself, and not inflicted upon others.

"Excuse me." he said, before running off to where (if he remembered correctly) was the bathroom.

Desperately, he peered through the first door and found, to his relief, the bathroom. He threw himself to his knees before the toilet. Giving up the fight to keep the food he had eaten down, he gagged. Even after there was nothing left in his stomach, his body continued to heave in rebellion.

At last, feeling weak and drained, he fell still. For a long moment, exhausted, he allowed his forehead to rest on the rim of the toilet. Clenching his eyes, he could feel tears escape the sudden pressure and roll down his cheeks. Horrified, he rubbed them off with the back of his hand. He rose smoothly to his feet, resisting the urge to steady himself against the wall.

He took a deep breath, wiping his face of emotion, and washed his hands, made a cup of them, and gathered water to rinse his mouth. It tasted unpleasantly of strong soap, but it replaced the acrid tang of bile. He swallowed the handful of water, rinsed off his flushed face, and dragged one arm across it to dry it. His hands he dried on the thighs of his pants. A glance in the mirror told him he bore no sign of discomfort, so he turned, left the room, and returned to the living room.

"Mom, I'm not hungry anymore." He said when he returned.

Marie opened his mouth to protest as Matt and Lea looked at him, but Julian cut them off.

"Leave him be. If he's not hungry then you can't force him." The look of his dad's face was one that Vale often had seen in Lea when he tried to hide something from her. Julian had noticed Vale's extreme reluctance to eat, and his eating pace. Almost to the point of making himself sick. Add to that his trip to the bathroom and Julian had a very good idea of when had happened.

Going from to eat basically nothing to a lot would cause a lot of pain and he didn't want that for Vale. He was sure he had already been in more pain than anyone could fathom. Losing his mother, being dumped into an orphanage, and when things were going well, he had everything he cared about ripped from him, and abused to top it off.

It was obvious Vale would have to be reinserted to society sooner or later. Julian was just worried about what people may think. He wasn't an idiot; even if he was acting Julian could see that Vale was badly scarred by his ordeal at his father's. It was obvious; he wasn't like normal thirteen-year-old children.

Vale faltered. "Maybe I can take a few more bites."

Lea chatted with him all the way to the bathroom. When Lea finally closed the door behind her to give him some privacy, Vale released a deep breath and finally allowed the tension to leave his body.

Now that he was alone he could start to relax a bit, but he still hated feeling so off-kilter.

Vale growled in frustration as he pulled off his ratty clothing and jacket and fiddled with the shower. He hated not knowing what would happen.

Stepping under the water, Vale pushed his painful thoughts away as he allowed the hot water to hit his battered body. It had been so long since he had had a shower that he couldn't prevent the sigh of relief from escaping his mouth.

It would feel good to be clean, at least.

He began to scrub almost viciously at his skin, trying to erase the grime that covered him, doing his best to ignore the pain that the action caused in his shoulder.

He couldn't erase his doubts and uncertainties though, and hot tears escaped from his eyes, travelling down the rivers of mud on his cheeks and dropping to the floor, becoming invisible in the pool of water and dirt as he washed away as much as he could of his previous life.

So, the Whites are now in the picture. Did you like the chap? Review!