Just a little something to work on when I'm missing motivation or inspiration on other fics.

I really have been wanting to do a full scale fic of Wales and Lucas, but... I figured it'd be better to do it in terms of oneshots that kind of blend together.

So yeah, this "fic" is going to be mainly focused on the Reynolds fam, with guest stars of other characters. Hope ya'll enjoy!

Uh...

TW: mentions of abuse

Wales woke up, feeling funny. It took a moment for him to adjust, for him to remember that he wasn't still in Italy in his room in Konzern's mansion. No, he was in his own room back in his own brownstone in London, with his mom asleep downstairs and his brother down the hall-

Wait.

His brother.

Lucas.

Wales sat up, and clicked on his bedside lamp, illuminating his room in a soft golden glow. Now that he was awake and aware, he heard it, the slight shuffle downstairs, from the kitchen. Whoever it was, they were attempting to be quiet, but Wales knew every creak of old wood in this house, and was well attuned to it, from how often he used to sneak downstairs for a midnight snack or sneak out with friends.

Wales threw the covers on his bed back, slipped on his shoes and pulled on an old worn hoodie over the ratty tee he used as a sleep shirt, in an attempt to ward off the slight chill of the house. He slipped into the hallway, glancing down the hall to see, yep, Lucas' door was open, and Lucas was not in bed. He sighed softly, and made his way downstairs, skipping over the fifth step from the top to avoid the creaking stair, making sure to stay on the left banister as he stepped on the third step from the bottom, and then landing softly on the first floor. Wales gave a cursory glance around the dark living room, before his eyes focused on the glow from the kitchen.

He hesitated. Maybe Lucas was only grabbing a snack? Hm. Maybe it'd be better to just go back upstairs and-

A choked sound caught Wales' attention, the sound muffled, but unmistakably a sob.

Right. To the kitchen it was.

Wales briefly detoured towards the living room, snatching up the blanket that was draped over the couch, and then went to the kitchen, making sure his footsteps were heard. He didn't want to startle Lucas, if he could help it.

Wales paused in the doorway to the kitchen, and Lucas, from where he was sitting at the kitchen island, jolted into a sitting position, wide and red eyed. The two brothers stared at each other, and Wales decided to keep quiet. He would not push if Lucas didn't want to talk.

Wales walked in, and settled the blanket around Lucas' shoulders, asking, "Want some hot chocolate?"

Lucas opened his mouth, trying to speak. He didn't. He just nodded silently and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.

They had the prepackaged stuff in the cabinet. Wales decided against it and started pulling things out of the refrigerator and cabinet shelves. He set a small saucepan on the stove, turned the heat on, and then poured some milk in to let it heat up.

Lucas watched, silent as Wales set aside the cocoa powder and then began to chop up the milk chocolate into small shavings, and then throw it into the milk once it was warm enough. He stirred it all together before adding a bit of cocoa powder.

"Whipped cream?" Wales asked.

"No," Lucas whispered, softly. He wasn't crying anymore, but he still looked far younger than fifteen. Small, vulnerable, like a single touch could shatter him.

"More for me then," Wales chirped, trying to keep the mood upbeat, but falling short. Every instinct in him was screaming at him that he should just reach out and hug Lucas, to comfort him, but past experiences were telling Wales that Lucas would shut down from it.

For Lucas, actions spoke louder than words. Lucas had lived in terror for fourteen years, afraid that every touch would bring nothing but pain. Words could be twisted and ignored, promises made but broken just as quickly. Wales could offer whispered words of assurance and comfort, and while he could provide it, he knew, deep down, that right now, Lucas didn't believe any of it. He was just learning to trust the new people in his life… it'd be a while before he started to open up, and Wales knew that, logically…

But it still hurt. How much he wanted to reach out and help, and would only get locked out if he tried.

Wales pulled two mugs from the cabinet and began to pour the hot beverage up. Once the pot was empty, he put the pan in the sink and then pulled the whipped cream from the fridge, topping off one cup of hot chocolate with the treat. He turned and sat at the island across from Lucas, sliding the mug without whipped cream across to his brother.

Lucas caught it, eyes flicking back and forth between the beverage and his brother. Cautiously, he took a sip of the hot chocolate, his eyes widening minutely at the taste.

Wales smirked and leaned back in his chair, "Better than that packaged stuff Konzern keeps in stock, hm?"

Lucas nodded, "Infinitely."

Wales smiled, and Lucas' eyes flickered back down to the counter. He picked at the skin around his thumbnail, silence falling over them. Wales… wasn't fine with it, but, hey. Misery loves company and all that. He hid a sigh behind the his mug, and stared blankly at the countertop.

"He used to lock me in the freezer in the basement," Lucas' soft voice cut through the silence.

Wales choked on his hot chocolate, just barely managing not to do a spit take. He clamped a hand over his mouth and set his mug on the counter, forcing himself to swallow and not make a mess. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before forcing himself to relax.

Lucas was eyeing him warily, when Wales opened his eyes. He seemed surprised at whatever he saw, if the way his expression shifted from caution to shock was any indication.

"That bastard did what now?" Wales hissed, trying to keep his temper in check.

"On good days," Lucas continued, casual as ever. He squinted at Wales when the older just stared at him, "… I feel like we're not exactly on the same page."

"He. Locked. You. In. A. Freezer," Wales enunciated each word slowly and with anger present in every syllable. "You could have died from hypothermia!"

"… Oh. Yeah. Not a working freezer. It was just a regular meat freezer."

"And that's any better?! You could have suffocated!"

"I learned to regulate my breathing,"

Wales made a noise like a stepped-on mouse. He let his head fall on the counter and thumped his head a few times, before stopping and just letting his head rest on the cool surface.

"I'm gonna kill him," Wales said, flatly, staring at the marble gray countertop. "I am going to track that bastard down and I am going to break every bone in his body from toe to head until he begs for death."

"Uh—"

"Or maybe I should ask Nero for a few tips. He's got a few homicidal tendencies. He's always planning his revenge on Damian."

"Wales—"

"Hm, I wonder if Julian would like to join the Italian Mafia just to get some concrete blocks on the bastard's feet and throw him in the—"

"Wales, really," Lucas reached out, and shakily laid a hand on one of Wales' forearms. "It's fine. It wasn't the worst thing he ever did to me."

Wales muttered something unsavory and finally looked up, chin digging into the counter, "Do I want to know what the worst thing he did was?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Yeah, probably not," Wales conceded, and sat up fully. He picked his hot chocolate up, expression twisting at how cool it now was. He grumbled again and stood up to pour the half drunk liquid in the sink. He glanced at Lucas, noting that his own mug was empty, and held his hand out in silent request.

Lucas handed the mug over and Wales rinsed both out, setting them aside on the drying rack. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, turning to face his brother. He leaned against the countertop and crossed his arms.

"Do you want to go back to bed or stay up and watch some television?" Wales asked.

"… It's two in the morning," Lucas frowned. "There's no good tv on this time of night."

Wales just raised an eyebrow, "There's Netflix."

"What's Netflix?"

… Right. Yep. Caspian was steadily solidifying his place at the #1 spot of Wales' "To Kill" list.

"Now that's a crying shame," Wales clucked his tongue. "Come on. We'll crash on the couch and I can catch you up some good shows."

Alice Reynolds walked into the living the room the next morning, smothering a yawn and determined to get some coffee. She was not a morning person. Neither was her oldest son, and she wasn't quite sure about her youngest, yet—

Speaking of her sons.

They were both on the couch, passed out cold. The television was on, volume low, playing… I Love Lucy? Alice knew it was Wales' guilty pleasure show- heck, he often times quoted Lucy- but that was generally when he was upset or feeling emotional.

Alice surveyed the scene in front of her. Wales was slumped over on the right arm of the couch, his head resting on his arm and his legs curled up under him. Lucas was curled up as well, head resting on Wales' lap and Wales other arm wrapped around his shoulders. Lucas was half covered in the blanket normally seen on the back of the couch. It was… adorable, really.

Alice wished she had her phone so she could take a picture, but she would commit the sight to memory. Instead, she tiptoed closer and gently pulled the blanket up over her youngest's shoulders. Lucas stirred, groaning quietly, but settled again. Wales, though, he snapped awake, grip tightening a bit on Lucas' shoulders and head shooting up like a prairie dog. He and his mother stared at each other for a moment.

Alice smiled at her oldest, bleary eyed and half awake, and she held a finger to her lips and ruffled his hair, "Shh. I'll make breakfast this morning. You two keep sleeping."

Wales hummed, and shifted slightly. He closed his eyes and passed out again.

Alice shook her head, still smiling, and Alice tiptoed into the kitchen to get started on her morning routine. Normally, Wales helped her with breakfast, but she'd much rather let her sons bond rather than interrupt them.

On bad days, she cursed her ex husband for what he'd done to their family. She cursed herself for being naïve and letting him play her the way he had, for not being strong enough to get away. But what was she supposed to do? She'd been young, and taken with the suave, smooth talking son of high-powered politician. He'd had her wrapped around his finger in no time. It had only been after they'd married that Caspian's true colors had shown themselves.

No. Alice set her jaw. She would not think about the past. She had the present to deal with and the future to look forward to. Woe as she was to admit it, the past was in the past.

… For her.

Wales hadn't known a single thing about any of it.

Lucas though, her baby, her youngest son… He'd lived through it. He was still suffering, despite the fact he'd escaped. Nightmares, flashbacks, hiding in the shadows and attempting to not be seen or heard. A teenager shouldn't be scared of speaking. Shouldn't be scared of being touched. He should be happy and excited and ready to face the world, make friends and connections that would last for a lifetime…

Alice sighed.

Well. She had both her sons, now. She had a second chance.

She'd be stupid to not take it.

So, the main characters have been introduced. Wales, Lucas, and their mom Alice.

No clue when the next update will be, but I do have a small preview:

It had taken weeks for this to happen. But the moment was here, and Lucas couldn't help but shuffle nervously around the room.

Wales was watching him, sitting in a nearby chair and looking far more relaxed than Lucas felt, "You don't need to be so nervous, you know."

Lucas shot him a dirty glare, "Don't I? What if all we prepared for ends up being for nothing?"

"It will be worth it," Wales assured him, standing and placing his hands on Lucas' shoulders. "You just need to take a few deep breaths and calm down."

"But I-"

"Luke," Wales said, firmly. "Don't worry." Wales flashed him a winning smirk, "We'll win."

Hope you enjoyed and will leave a review! Until next time- ciao!