Smiling softly at the sleeping form of his little brother, Glenn felt a pang of guilt. The youngest Fraldarius, now five years old, was snuggled close to his best friend under his favourite blanket. Felix's tiny head was barely visible above the fluffy wool trim, and with Sylvain's red waves in the way as he held him close, it was impossible to see more than that. The two seemed so content, curled up in each other's arms on the sofa in front of the cozy hearth and sharing Felix's blankie, some sort of game with toy soldiers left abandoned on the table basse. But with the afternoon coming to an end, it was time for the Gautier boy to return home.

"Felix? Hey, wake up you guys." Glenn nudged the blanketed lumps, and his baby brother mumbled something as he rubbed his wide copper eyes into focus. Sylvain was slower to stir, turning over so his face was pressed into the cushion of the couch.

Glenn tried again, this time shaking them both by the shoulders. "Fe, Syl, you've got to wake up. Sylvain has to go home now."

"No, he doesn't," Tiny Felix whined, throwing himself over the redhead with the blanket wrapped around him so that it hid the older boy. Sylvain let out a noise of confusion as he woke fully as well. "Sylvain doesn't have to go anywhere if we hide him!"

"Felix, I really should go home…" Sylvain said quietly, voice muffled by the thick blue fabric draped over him. "My dad will get mad if we wait too long…"

"He doesn't have to know you're here still, though!" Felix tried to smother his best friend with the blanket, shushing him and proceeding to cover him into obscurity.

Glenn's heart ached, knowing well that Sylvain's father would be more than angered, and that made Felix want him to stay all the same. He knew in the long run, though, it was best to spare the Gautier boy all they could. And that meant handing him over without protest. "Felix, enough. He has to go." Glenn grasped the blanket tightly in one hand, and locked eyes with his brother.

"No!"

"Yes."

"No!"

"Felix!" Glenn snapped, exasperated, and yanked on the blanket to uncover Sylvain. And soon enough, the redhead was revealed - at the cost of the sound of a condemning riiip.

The eldest Fraldarius looked down at the torn half of blue fabric in his hand, snapped threads spiralling at the edges. A cold feeling rushed into his veins, blood draining from his face. The room was silent, until the telltale sniffles of a catastrophic Felix Fraldarius erupted into distressed wails.

Glenn scrambled to fix it, gathering the rest of the blanket into his arms. "Felix, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Glenn, you meanie! You ruined it!" Felix reached for his blanket but got no purchase, instead clinging to Sylvain as he stood up. "You're the worst." He sniffled pitifully, eyes red-rimmed and angry. "Come on, let's go Sylvain." He grabbed Sylvain's hand tightly, stomping off with him.

The Gautier boy looked over his shoulder as he was dragged away, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, Glenn…"

"It's not your fault…" Glenn managed to choke out, feeling terrible. He looked at the destroyed blankie in his hands, his brother's prized possession, which he entrusted to share with so few. He clenched his fists in the fabric, resolve and guilt swarming together.

"Damnit… When's the last time I tried to sew?"

Apparently, the last time had been far too long ago. Glenn slammed his fist down on his desk with a frustrated shout, through clenched teeth to muffle the sound as it was well past midnight now. The tiny needle in his hand just wouldn't go where he needed it to, and threading the damn thing was a nightmare in and of itself. The white thread - the only colour he could even find, it wasn't even blue like the damn blanket - had slipped out of the needle head for the umpteenth time that night.

Glenn dropped what he was holding and groaned in despair, guilt gnawing at his stomach and his chest. He buried his hands in his disheveled hair, way past the point of remaining in its braid, and tried to breathe evenly.

He would fix this. He had to.

Felix had cried himself to sleep that night, screaming and refusing to go to bed without the blankie until he just exhausted himself. Their father had tried to read to him, gave him snacks, tried everything he could to soothe his son until the poor kid just fell asleep on his own. All the while, Glenn had stood awkwardly on the other end of the room, or listened to their voices from down the hall. He felt horrible until he finally resigned himself to his room, determined to solve the problem himself.

And now he felt nothing but worse at his failure to do even that.

A quiet knock at the door shook Glenn from his loathing sulk, and he lifted his head. "Yeah? Who is it?"

The door opened slowly, Rodrigue entering, looking exhausted but still smiling fondly at his oldest son. "How is it coming along, Glenn?"

Glenn turned his head away, shame flushing his cheeks. "It's really not. I can't do it." He huffed and put a hand to his forehead. "Do you know how to sew, Father?"

His sideways glance gave the answer all by itself, and Glenn rolled his eyes, knowing he should have expected that result. Rodrigue spoke up though, noticing his son's disappointment. "Your mother was always better at that sort of thing… She got absolutely furious whenever I touched her things, claiming I'd ruin the organisation on the spot."

"Knowing the guys in this family, I'm not surprised. How come none of us got her careful traits?" Glenn frowned, glaring hard at the sewing box on his desk. He didn't want to talk about Mother right now, but it seemed to come up whenever he tried to fix something broken around the home by himself.

"Sewing isn't the only gentle thing she could have passed down. It's a learned skill…" Rodrigue looked at the mess of thread. "You certainly have her thoughtfulness. She would be proud of how much you look after your brother."

"It's my own fault this thing is ruined in the first place, it's the least I can do."

"You could have bought him a new one, or asked me to."

"But this one is his favourite," Glenn's eyes turned upwards to meet his father's. "He wouldn't forgive me the same."

Chuckling, Rodrigue placed a hand on Glenn's shoulder. "He's a kid, he'd forgive and forget in no time. But this is exactly what I mean… You're taking the hard route to right a wrong, because you believe it is the one that will make him happiest. That's something special, Glenn."

A pause. "You think?"

"I know."

"That doesn't change the fact that I can't sew for shit."

"Language, son." Rodrigue clapped his back encouragingly with a grin. "Don't stay up too late. You'll figure it out eventually." With that, he turned towards the door and left the room.

"Wait, you're just going to leave me to… Alright, then."

"Papa, where's Glenn?" Felix gazed up at Rodrigue with big, innocent eyes the afternoon of the next day. Glenn had not been seen around the Fraldarius estate, and Rodrigue had been left to entertain the youngest boy on his own.

"He's probably doing some very heavy training, Felix," he said with a smile, but concern still wormed its way into his mind. He too had not seen Glenn all day. Surely he couldn't still be…

A sniffle interrupted his train of thought, and Rodrigue's attention snapped back to his son just as he muttered a soft "Oh, no…" while scooping baby Felix into his arms. As soon as his tiny feet left the ground, the child began to cry, although less violently than his outbursts had been the day before. Now it was small, pitiful, and lonely. Rodrigue held Felix's head to his shoulder and shushed him soothingly, all the while his brow furrowed in worry. This disconnect between his boys needed to stop, lest it be the end of him.

"He's mad that I-I y-yuh-yelled at him…" Felix hiccuped, fists as small as his voice balling in the front of his father's shirt. "And n-now he's never guh-going to play with m-me again."

"He's just getting some work done, don't worry, my boy." Rodrigue sighed softly, beginning to walk upstairs to bring Felix to his room for the evening. The poor kid was just having a stressful day, that was all. Some sleep would do him well. "He'll be out to see you tomorrow, and you two can play all the games you'd like."

"P-Promise, Papa?" He looked up with watery eyes, eyes so much like his mother's, and elicited a tired but affectionate sigh from Rodrigue.

He reached Felix's room and carefully tucked the boy into his bed, drawing his remaining fluffy blankets up around him so that he was snug and cosy. "I promise. How about you lie down for a little while, and come get me if you wake up again? That'll make you feel better."

"O-Okay…"

As soon as little Felix's breaths became even and his sniffles ceased, Rodrigue left the room, striding swiftly down the hall to Glenn's room. He knocked but did not ask for permission as he opened the door, ready to end whatever disparity was causing him to hide away.

"Glenn, for the Goddess' sake what have you…" Trailing off when his eldest son quickly stood from his desk, his expression morphed into a new one of puzzled worry. "Have you moved from that desk since last night?"

"No, I dozed off for a few hours, but look Father! I did it!" Glenn's blue eyes were bright, excited albeit rimmed by dark shadows.

With bruised, poked fingers, he raised the blue blanket, which was first noticed to now be back in one piece. Little crisscrosses of white thread webbed their way down the seam that the tear had been on, and even though they were sloppy, they were small and there were many. It would surely get the job done despite losing their aesthetic.

Rodrigue blinked in surprise, then beamed proudly with a chuckle. "You fixed it, didn't you?" He took the end of the blanket in his hands and ran his fingers along the repair. "It looks hideous, but it should hold. Well done."

Glenn only grinned wider, letting out an airy, exhausted laugh of relief. "It took so long, but I figured it out. Everything's okay now. I should go show Fe immediately!" He gathered the folds of the blanket up in his arms and whisked around his father to head for the door.

Rodrigue spun on his heel to face his son before he was gone. "I already tucked him in, so he's asleep. Maybe leave it in there as a surprise? I don't want to wake him again…"

"Alright, that'll do." Weary, Glenn smiled once more. "I should get some proper sleep as well. I feel bad for leaving him alone all day today."

"Well hurry it up then, I expect both of you boys to be well-rested tomorrow."

Glenn tiptoed to Felix's bedside and beamed, glad that his hard work paid off. And seeing Felix's smiling face when he woke up would be worth it all, so best not to wake him when he's tired and might still be grumpy. Being as gentle as possible, Glenn draped the blue blankie over his little brother, bringing the fluffy wool hem up just under his chin.

Felix let out a soft noise in his sleep as one tiny hand poked out from under the covers to pull the blanket closer, nestling in instantly. He was sure to be deeply asleep, then. Glenn turned to leave.

He felt something tug on the back of his shirt, and for a moment he feared something had snagged on the blanket and was in danger of tearing it again, so he froze. Instead, when he faced the bed again, he saw that Felix had reached out for him. Glenn's heart melted, especially when he realised that Felix was still asleep, too.

"Well, Father did want us to get rest, didn't he?" Moving slowly to not disturb him, Glenn laid on the bed next to his little brother, who snuggled against him as soon as he was there.

The blanket bunched up between them, and Glenn shifted so that it easily lay over the both of them. Whichever of their parents' idea it was to get Felix such a massive blanket, the eldest Fraldarius did not blame them now. It was easy to see why this was his brother's favourite, and soon enough, Glenn felt himself being absorbed by the lulls of sleep as well.