This tiny little drabble takes place right after the previous one. Some happy brother fluff after the sad brother fluff.
Mattie doesn't know where he is when he wakes up. He's cold and stiff, his face hurts and his mouth is dry. He blinks several times, but still can't place himself until he turns over and Al is right there.
The older boy's eyes are closed, his flaxen bangs fluttering sporadically with his slow breaths. Mattie has never had the chance to study him up close for this long before; he's always moving. Now, however, he's still, peaceful. As Mattie watches, one corner of Al's mouth quirks up, and Mattie wonders if he's dreaming. Dreaming about Arthur? Maybe even about him?
The thought fills Mattie with a warm ache, a feeling like he's reaching for something he doesn't understand. Like he could belong somewhere again.
Then Al's eyes blink open and the quirk of his lips blossoms into a full-blown grin. The sun is shining through the window, and everything is better.