Those final days were a torment. Ruby couldn't help the grief that hung over her like the shadow of a cloud ready to burst, her limbs heavy as she fought to accomplish all that she needed to do. On the one hand, there was very little in the way of personal possessions to take with her, especially since so many of her things were lost in the fire. On the other hand, she had an infant son, and the list of things that she would need for his care seemed endless. Still, she managed to collect everything into one small trunk, knowing that space would be even more limited than it had been on her journey west, now that she'd be with many other travellers.
A couple of days before her departure, Archie, August, and Ruby sat down to an early birthday celebration—August's favourite, fried chicken.
"Here you go, birthday boy!" Ruby gushed as she placed the almost-overflowing plate on the table, the aroma of fried food wafting up around them.
"Almost," August corrected her before giving a sheepish smile. "Thank you."
The family tried to keep the evening cheerful, but nobody could quite forget that this was one of their last meals together. For a little while longer, at least, they could pretend that nothing was going to change.
"Ten years old!" Archie exclaimed, standing up and making his way behind August, placing his hands on the boy's shoulders. "I could swear it was only yesterday you were as small as Peter."
"Pa," August almost whined back. "I haven't been that small in ages!"
"Well, a pa never forgets," Archie replied, pressing a kiss to the top of his son's head.
Ruby shared a smile with Archie as she brought over the cake with the candles—one for each year. The candles flickered, sending out a cheerful glow around the table that illuminated August's and Archie's faces.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you…" Archie and Ruby sang out. Ruby scooped up Peter from his crib and sat him on her lap, clapping his hands along to the beat as Archie's deep voice rang out through the cabin. "Happy birthday, dear August—happy birthday to you!"
"Now make a wish and blow out the candles," Archie coaxed August as he took his seat.
August scrunched his eyes shut for a moment, his brow furrowed before he opened them and hurriedly blew out his candles. Ruby wondered if he wished for a new toy, but she couldn't help but think what she would wish for, as if such a wish could actually come true if she was in August's place.
"Hurray!" Archie and Ruby both cheered as the smoke curled up from the candles. Ruby bounced the baby on her knee as he took in the strange sights before him, wide-eyed. Archie served the cake—a simple pound cake with a molasses glaze—since Ruby was preoccupied with Peter on her lap.
Then, it was time for the one thing better than birthday cake—presents. Ruby did her best to commit the sight to memory, the delight in the little boy's eyes as he opened his gifts.
First, he unwrapped a new fishing pole from Archie. "Thanks, Pa!" August cried, throwing his arms around his father.
"You're welcome," Archie replied, holding his son close. Ruby saw Archie beam back at his son as they pulled back. "There should be lots of good fishing at the creek by now."
"I'll catch us a big fish for dinner, you'll see!" August assured him, grinning from ear to ear.
Ruby slid her parcels over to the boy across the table. "This is from Peter and me."
He unwrapped both items with the haste of a child, and Ruby couldn't help but laugh.
"What is it?" he asked, holding up the slim case.
"Open it up and see!" she replied, barely able to hold back her glee.
August snapped the case open to reveal the pen, complete with a mahogany handle and a shiny new nib.
"It's for you to write all your stories down," Ruby explained, her own smile wide as she watched him take in every detail, carefully lifting it from the case and holding it up for inspection. "And maybe a few letters," she added, a lump rising in her throat. "I'll need you to let me know everything that's going on in Storybrooke, too." She kept her grin in place, despite the tears she could feel welling up, and she refused to look at Archie.
"I've never had such a nice pen of my own before!" August exclaimed. "Thanks, Miss Ruby!" He jumped up and threw his arms around Ruby and the baby in a clumsy hug, pinning her arms down.
Ruby chuckled and kissed his head. "You're very welcome, August." She nodded towards the book that was mostly freed of its brown paper. "But look, there's something else."
August plopped back in his seat and held up the book. "It's your book about fairy tales," he said, his tone and expression serious.
"Umhmm," Ruby said cheerfully, bouncing Peter on her knee again. "I want you to have it." It was one of the few things not lost in the fire since it had already been in the house. "I know you've read them all already, but I thought you might like to re-read them now and then." And think of me.
Ruby wasn't entirely sure if it was an exciting enough gift for a young boy, but his thanks seemed genuine. "I'll keep it right at the top of the shelf," he assured her, his eyes fixed on the cover, alight with what almost looked like reverence.
"I'm glad."
She dared not glance at Archie, worried that she might not be able to keep her composure should she meet his gaze—or worse, if he wasn't looking at her at all.
As much as Ruby wanted to extend this moment—the four of them gathered around the table with the cozy firelight and candlelight all around them—it was soon time to clear the table. Ruby needn't have worried about them calling an early end to the evening, however, for soon Archie had his fiddle out, filling the cabin with enough cheer to chase away gloomy thoughts of what was to come. The flickering light made Archie's and August's hair glow fiery red, and Ruby danced and clapped with August and Peter until her limbs ached. They all stubbornly refused to pay any heed to the little clock that stood on top of the mantle.
Ruby even sensed that just maybe, she was not the only trying to make these final days last for as long as possible.
Try as she might, however, Ruby could not stop the day of departure from coming. Her stomach felt sick as her eyes fluttered open, her mind not giving her a moment's relief in the fogginess of waking.
Today.
She tried to remain cheerful for everyone as she prepared breakfast, and she fought the weight on her chest when she greeted Archie returning from the morning chores. "Good morning," she said, quickly looking away in a futile attempt to keep the tears from welling up.
More than once she came close to suggesting—begging—that she could wait until the August train, but she knew that it would only delay the inevitable. Besides, it would be best to travel with baby Peter in the good weather. She had experienced enough travel in a cold and rainy autumn to last her a lifetime.
Breakfast was finished all too soon, and after a few chores, there was nothing more to do but pack up the wagon to head to town.
As Archie and August prepared Cleo and hauled the trunk to the wagon, Ruby took one last look around the little bedroom that had come to be her own. How much had changed since that first day when she was huddled in the corner with dear Pongo as her only comfort.
She walked around, Peter slung on her hip as she smoothed out the quilts on top of her bed, moving methodically to August's bed, which had been returned a few days earlier. She smiled sadly to see the curtains on the two windows, her chest tight at the thought of how she'd made a small mark on the homestead. At least Archie would finally be able to sleep in a real bed again, she thought with a chuckle. An image sprung to mind of her and Archie sharing the bed like a true husband and wife, and Ruby had to blink away her tears, shaking the picture away.
Don't be so foolish.
She grabbed the little mother-and-pup wolf set that August had carved for her and put them in her pockets, wishing to keep them safe through the long journey, before making her way to the main room.
She slowly walked around the little cabin, committing every piece of furniture and decoration to memory. The ornate mantle with its little cuckoo clock. The sink where she'd spent countless hours washing up and watching Archie work outside. The stove that had given her so much grief when she'd first arrived, which she had long since mastered. The sewing machine on which she'd created so many garments for her boys. The table, which had seen countless friends come through, and where she'd spent some of her happiest hours surrounded by the laughter of August and Archie.
Where she'd caught Archie smiling at her in his way that crinkled the laugh lines around his blue eyes and deepened his dimples, and how it made her heart catch in her throat.
Before she could let herself imagine any more, Ruby took a deep breath and forced her feet to carry her outside. Archie and August were probably wondering what was taking her so long, and she was surprised that she hadn't already been called for.
As she passed through the door, Pongo bounded up to her as if in a final greeting, and she patted his head before crouching down and burying her hand in his fur.
"Good-bye, Boy," she murmured. Peter waved his hand and patted the dog's snout, and Ruby let out a sad chuckle. "Gentle, gentle," she reminded him, guiding his hand in smooth strokes along Pongo's head. The wolf of a dog simply sat still, panting, his tail wagging as he soaked up the attention.
After a few moments, Ruby stood up and looked around for Archie and August. The wagon was empty, save for her trunk, and Cleo stood by herself. She spotted Archie a few feet away at the base of August's tree house, his head tilted back as he talked to the wooden structure.
Ruby's breath caught in her throat and a couple of tears escaped in hot trails down her cheeks.
She could see the father was equal parts arguing and coaxing, and Ruby had to stop herself from going over. Instead, she turned around and waited by the wagon, bringing Peter to her front and bouncing him in her arms.
"We're going to go on journey," she cooed, her smile pasted on as best as she could manage, her eyes and cheeks wet. "We're going to go on a long wagon ride, and then you'll meet your great-granny!" Try as she might, the cheer in her voice didn't hold a drop of sincerity, and she had to remind herself to breathe.
"I think we're about ready now," a raspy voice called from behind, and Ruby spun around as she wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.
"Sounds good," Ruby said before she swallowed, her mouth dry.
Archie walked towards her with August at his side, his hand on his son's shoulder. The boy's face was in a deep-set frown, his eyes red and puffy, and Ruby had to blink back her own tears.
They were silent as they climbed into the carriage—first August, then Ruby as Archie held the baby for her. Finally, Archie hurried to the other side and climbed up beside his son. With a flick of the reigns, they were off, and Ruby allowed herself one final glance at the homestead before she forced herself to keep her gaze forward.
The journey into town was long and painful, but Ruby almost wished it could last forever, given what lay ahead. Instead, Archie soon pulled up in front of the ticket office, the wagons already lined up main street with other travellers milling about.
Before she knew it, her trunk was loaded onto one of the wagons, her tickets having already been given in, and she was left with nothing to do but say good-bye.
She handed Peter to Archie and knelt down in front of August.
"I don't want you to go!" he burst out, and Ruby bit her lip, trying to keep herself from crying as she saw a couple of tears run down the boy's cheeks.
"I know," she replied, her voice cracking. "It's just—something I have to do. But I'll always love you, and we'll write to each other. And here—" she added, reaching into her pocket to pull out the smaller of the wolf figurines. "I need you to keep this safe for me, okay? Keep it by your bed, and every time you look at it, you can think of me and Peter." She paused, taking a deep breath to regain her composure. "And I'll—I'll have the mama wolf, and every time we see it back in Boston we'll think of you, and you're pa—and—and we'll always be together, okay?"
She clasped his hands around the figure, her grip unnecessarily tight as she kept her gaze fixed on August's eyes welling up with tears.
He nodded slowly before throwing his arms around her. Ruby closed her eyes and squeezed him as hard as she could, her own tears streaming down her cheeks. The two held each other for a long moment, and Ruby pressed a kiss to the boy's temple before finally pulling back. She opened her eyes to catch Archie turning away from her, his back to them.
"Now you be good for your pa, you hear?" she told August, returning her attention to the boy. "You've got to take care of him for me and Peter." She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand as the redheaded boy gave a solemn nod while she stood up.
"P-Peter and I," August mumbled.
Ruby let out a wet chuckle and stroked August's cheek, not bothering to correct him as her throat grew tight, matching the invisible grip around her lungs and stomach.
Then, they turned to Archie, Ruby's hand across August's shoulders for a moment until she took a step towards the father. He turned back to face them and gently returned Peter to her arms, and she cherished the last moment of their arms brushing, her heart full to see how gentle he was with their son.
Her son.
She dared to glance up and noticed that his own eyes were watery, and she felt more tears well up.
"Th-thank you," she breathed, her voice small. "For everything. I'll always be grateful that you—that you came to me that day." The words seemed so inadequate, but they were all she could manage, with her mouth dry, her emotions stuck in her throat as if to suffocate her. She'd fought to keep herself collected, but it was a battle she was quickly losing as she looked into Archie's clear blue eyes framed by his spectacles, unsure of what she read there.
He simply nodded, and Ruby's heart fell.
"Final call for the wagons!" a shrill voice called behind them, making Ruby jump.
She turned back to Archie and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek—a final moment of intimacy. She spun around before he could see the tears fall down her face, unable to even say good-bye as she hurried towards the wagons with Peter clutched in her arms.
She had thought she already knew what it felt like to have her heart shattered, but this was an entirely different kind of pain, and she was sure if she looked back, she would break her resolve.
Lord, give me strength.
She couldn't look back.
The homestead was eerily quiet when Archie and August returned. Even Pongo seemed to know better than to bound up with his usual barks of greeting.
It was all Archie could do to unhitch Cleo and get her settled in the barn. His muscles were heavy with exhaustion and he could feel the sting in his eyes that matched the weight pressing on his chest.
The worst thing, however, was entering the cabin, now so cold and empty. "August," Archie warned, sensing his son was about to retreat to his tree house again. "Can you please help me move everything back to the bedroom?" It was better if the boy wasn't left alone quite yet.
August nodded and trudged to the back of the cabin, disappearing behind the curtain of the makeshift "room". Archie slowly turned towards the bedroom, the door still open.
He shuffled in, his heart in his throat as his breaths came short. The familiar sting in his nose and the prick to his eyes returned when he saw the room so neatly made up, as if she had never been there, save for the empty cradle at the foot of the bed and the curtains framing the windows.
Archie took a deep breath and took a couple of steps to the chest of drawers, opening the first one to prepare for the task that lay ahead.
He saw an unfamiliar colour at the back of the drawer and he frowned, reaching in, his hand connecting with soft yarn. He pulled out the item to discover a knitted scarf like the one that Ruby had given August at Christmas, only slightly longer and with his own initials.
A sob escaped as he stumbled back to the bed. His knees hit the bed frame, forcing him to collapsing on the mattress. He stared at the scarf in his hands, and the letters blurred as tears ran down his cheeks, no longer able to restrain the emotion he'd battled all day, and for a moment he wasn't entirely sure it wouldn't drown him completely.
He squeezed his eyes shut, the wool tight in his grip as he rested his elbows on his knees and hunched over. All he could picture was Ruby in front of him, holding Peter in her arms, the last glimpse of the child with his dark eyes, always filled with light.
And Ruby—her dark hair framing her porcelain skin, her red lips always pulled into a grin that took his breath away. Her green eyes, usually bright, had been so dark and pained that he'd almost brought himself to ask her if she really wanted to go.
Thank goodness he hadn't been as weak as that.
Her good-bye was so brief, a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin still burned from her touch.
He hadn't even had a chance to say good-bye, she was gone in an instant—he couldn't even dare so much as to brush his lips against her forehead.
"Father, I don't understand," he gasped in a desperate prayer. "I know Your ways are good, but I can barely breathe through this pain. I know you brought Ruby and Peter into our lives, but now I don't know how we'll go on without them."
He knew it was a selfish prayer, but it was all he could do as grief clawed at his chest, the emotions that had been rising up for so long finally breaking free. He kept his eyes squeezed shut as another wave of tears came, every muscle in his body aching and heavy. He longed to collapse on his bed and stay there for the rest of the day.
Archie forced his eyes open and made himself take deep, even breaths to quell sobs that threatened to spill over.
"Pa, come here!"
"Just a minute, August!" Archie called back, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes with one hand.
"Pa, you gotta see this!" August called from the main room.
Archie fought the annoyance that bubbled amongst his other emotions. "I just need a moment, Son. I'll be right there!" He took more deep breaths, willing himself to gain control lest August see him so undone.
"Pa, I…" August trailed off, now standing in the doorway. "Pa, are you okay?" His voice was small.
Archie gave him as sincere a smile as he could as he returned his glasses to his face. "I'm fine," he lied, standing up and closing the distance between him and his son. "What is it?"
"Pa, I found this," August said, holding up a letter.
Archie frowned, both at the sincerity in his son's expression and at the piece of paper he held up.
Archie took the paper and scanned it, his heart in his throat as he fought to comprehend the words, his heart already recognizing Ruby's neat handwriting.
Dear Archie,
I don't want to go. This is my home. You are my home.
Ask me to stay.
Yours,
Ruby
For a moment, Archie was frozen in place, not knowing whether to cry or scream in delight.
"August, I need—I need you to stay here. I need—I'm going to go back to town. You stay here."
He didn't have time to say more as he bolted for the barn, his mind in chaos except for one thing.
Ruby.
There was cloud hovering over the Nolan homestead—though figurative in nature, it held far more gloom than any physical threat—as they kept a sort of vigil over the day of Ruby's departure. Mary Margaret and David shared a look as they spotted the wagon with the four Hoppers heading towards Storybrooke, and Mary Margaret squeezed her husband's hand when she noticed the wagon return with only father and son.
"I thought for sure they would have sorted themselves out by now," she said softly.
"Mary Margaret," David warned.
"I know, I know," she replied quickly with a sad smile. "I was just—I mean, you saw the way those two looked at each other. I've never seen such longing, even from the young'uns who are full-on courting."
David chuckled. "I know," he repeated, taking her in his arms.
She wrapped her arms around her husband's middle, disappointment weighing on her that the two people she cared most about hadn't found happiness. "I could have sworn it was going to work out, that's all."
David pressed a kiss to her forehead and gave her a squeeze. "I know."
What was even more surprising than Ruby's having left at all was that, less than half an hour after they'd seen Archie and August pass by their homestead, Archie himself charged up to their door on an exhausted Cleo.
"Archie!" Mary Margaret exclaimed, rushing to him along with David. "What on earth is the matter?"
David barely had time to take the reins before Archie had jumped down, breathless.
"I need—I've got—can I borrow a horse? Cleo's not fast enough."
Mary Margaret and David exchanged puzzled glances. "Of course," David said with a nod, handing his wife the reins as she cooed over the animal, and he rushed to get Happy tacked up as quickly as he could.
"Archie, can I get you something to drink?" Mary Margaret offered as David led the horse to the disheveled man.
"No time! But th-thanks," Archie replied, taking the reins from David and mounting the horse in one swift motion. "I've got to go."
And with that, he was off in a cloud of dust, leaving his friends staring after him with wide eyes.
"Oh, David, he's doing it! He's chasing after her!" Mary Margaret gushed, beaming at her husband while she stroked Cleo's muzzle.
David was more than happy to wholeheartedly agree with his wife's optimistic conclusion.
Though it had been less than an hour, Ruby was already weary of the bumps and jolts of the wagon. It didn't help matters that she was pressed up on both sides by other passengers, and she longed for the days when she could have ridden up on the wagon seat. Peter, normally a contented baby, protested their accommodation also as he fussed in her arms, much as she bounced him and murmured to him in an attempt to soothe him as well as herself.
"Sh-h-h-h, Precious, everything's alright," she chanted, wishing she could believe her own words. In truth, she still fought back tears and wished she could sleep for days.
"That's a nice lad you've got there," an older woman across from her said.
Ruby gave a polite smile. "Thank you," she replied halfheartedly.
"Did you lose his pa?"
Ruby swallowed. "My husband, yes," she replied, the sting returning to her eyes as tears welled up. To her surprise, she realized she pictured Archie as she said the words, and she glanced down to the golden wedding band on her finger.
"It's terrible country," the woman spat, looking out past the canvas sides. "Completely godless, if you ask me." Ruby could sense the bitterness in her tone, her expression creased in anger and etched with weariness.
"Oh, I don't know," Ruby replied, her eyes fixed on Peter, picturing all that they left behind. "I think it's kind of beautiful."
Suddenly, Ruby caught a sound from beyond the canvas sides, and her heart stopped. Was it? No, she was just hearing things—a cruel trick of her heart, teasing her with her deepest desire that could never be.
Then she thought she heard it again—a man calling her name.
"Archie?" she asked quietly, not daring to hope. And yet, her pulse quickened, ignoring logic.
The wagon came to a stop, causing the women passengers to bump into each other, but Ruby took no notice. She handed Peter to the kindly looking woman beside her and scrambled to the back of the wagon, scanning the horizon.
There he was, clear as day—Archie, racing like a wild man towards them on horseback.
Ruby's heart leapt in her chest, her grief instantly gone as he brought the horse to a quick stop and jumped down. Ruby barely noticed the gasps of the women behind her when she leaned out of the carriage, searching his face as he stood before her, breathless.
"Archie, what on earth are you doing?" she cried, unable to suppress a smile. Then, her expression fell. "Is August okay? Are you?"
Archie panted heavily, resting his hands on the ledge on either side of Ruby's as her grip tightened around the wood. He shook his head. "Everything's—fine," he gasped.
Ruby repeated her question, her pulse racing. "Archibald Hopper, why are you tearing across the wilderness like a mad man?"
He regained his composure slightly and leaned closer. "I realized—I couldn't let you leave without asking you something."
Ruby bit her lip, her heart racing wildly. "Ask me what?" she asked softly, resisting the urge to touch his face. You're here. You're really here, in front of me.
His expression looked so earnest that Ruby thought her heart would melt, and she kept her gaze fixed on his eyes as his lips formed the most beautiful words.
"Please stay. Stay with us. Stay—stay with me." His clear blue eyes flitted between hers as if he doubted her answer.
Ruby's heart soared for an instant before its flight was cut short by a terrible thought. The deepest desires of her heart dangled before her, tantalizing, and yet the shimmer of it all could be nothing more than false gold. "Archie, I can't stay with you just to take care of August. I need—I need more than that." Her voice cracked as she feared she was losing her last chance at happiness, flinging it away like a fool.
Archie's gaze fixed firmly on her own, no longer moving, and his hands brushed hers.
"Stay because I love you. I love you, Ruby Lucas Smith Hopper."
Ruby felt her heart would burst from her chest, her eyes welling up for an entirely different reason. "And I love you, Archibald Hopper," she murmured softly, a grin spreading from ear to ear.
Archie grinned in return, his whole face lighting up as he let out a breath. Then, he took her in his arms tightly and she squeezed back, burying her head into his shoulder as she tried to comprehend what had just happened. She hugged him back, revelling in the weight of him, the reality of him, and she was decided that she would never let him go.
Finally, they pulled back, and Archie's hands cupped her face. For a moment, she swore she would be forever lost to the love she saw in his eyes before he crashed his lips to hers and she melted into his touch, completely unaware of her nose pressed into his or how his hat tumbled to the ground.
The anxiety, the anguish of the last week, the last months, the last year, melted away in a single kiss that made Ruby feel like she was in a happily-ever-after of her own. When they finally broke apart, she let out a nervous giggle, her mind still struggling to put the pieces together.
"I thought—I thought you didn't want me."
Archie shook his head violently, and Ruby saw tears in his eyes. "I didn't get your note. August only just found it when we got home. I thought—I thought you wanted to leave."
Ruby grinned, chastising herself for leaving her fate to a foolish letter. "I—I was too scared to say anything more," she admitted, pressing her forehead to his as their breaths came heavy between them.
"So was I." He pressed another quick kiss to her lips, and Ruby thought it was the most wonderful feeling in the world.
"Excuse me, ma'am, but are you comin' or goin'?" a stern voice asked from behind her.
Ruby whirled around to see the scowl of the woman with whom she'd been talking earlier. Clearly, she was not amused with what she deemed to be a proven falsehood.
"I'm going with my husband," she said triumphantly, taking the baby from the other woman and handing him to Archie, whose grin was as wide as her own. With one hand, he helped her down, and Ruby waved to the other women. "Have a safe journey!" she cried, still in disbelief that she was truly heading home.
Archie handed Peter back to her and rushed to the front of the wagon train. A disgruntled driver reluctantly hopped down and managed to help Archie find Ruby's trunk in one of the wagons while Ruby swayed with the baby beside the horse. The trunk landed with a loud thud on the ground, but Ruby didn't care.
The wagon train soon drove away, leaving a very giddy husband and wife with a young baby, a horse, and a trunk with which they had no means of getting home.
"I'll have to come back for it, I guess," Archie chuckled as he turned to Ruby. "Are you okay to get up on the horse if I hold Peter?"
Ruby smirked. "As if I can't mount my own horse," she said, handing the baby to Archie. She hiked up her skirts, put one foot in the stirrup, and with a hop and a swing of her leg, she was in the saddle and reaching for her child.
Archie grinned as he handed Peter into her arms. He then swung himself up behind her, and, taking the reins, turned them in the direction of home.
"Is this the Nolans' horse?" Ruby asked as she indulged in the urge to lean back against Archie's chest. He pressed a kiss to her head and she bit her lip, the gesture sending shivers through her.
"Yes—it's a long story," he said. He said no more, and Ruby made a mental note to ask him more later. For the time being, she enjoyed the slow ride home, her muscles finally relaxing after the emotional day.
Her pulse began to race again, however, when the homestead came into view. Her heart caught in her throat when August hopped down from the last step of his tree-house and ran down towards them, too impatient to wait for them to come to the house. Ruby sat up straighter and Archie urged the horse into a trot for the last few paces.
"You're back!" August cried, his eyes shining, and Ruby thought Archie couldn't hop down from the horse fast enough. She quickly gave Peter to him before sliding to the ground and throwing herself at August.
"Oh, Sweetheart," she murmured, squeezing him as tightly as she dared. "I promise I'll never leave you again." His smaller arms squeezed back, and she thought she'd never been so happy in her whole life.
Finally, she pulled back just enough to pepper his face with kisses, and he laughed in delight. When they did stand up, she saw Archie beaming at them, Peter in his arms, his eyes watery, and she gave him her own emotional smile.
They were home.