Jane hadn't realized she had been biting her lip too hard while concentrating on unlocking and opening the front door in the quietest possible manner. She finally noticed her lip felt odd only after she held her skates close to her chest and crept across the living room, past her father who was out on the couch, to her room. In the dark, she managed to gently set the skates on the ground, slipping her shoes off beside them. Running a finger across her lip, she frowned at the small lump that had formed before dropping her bag from her shoulder to the bed.

She reached behind her head and unzipped her uniform, shaking out of the sleeves and dropping the plain cotton dress to the ground. Stepping out of it, she reached over and grabbed a pair of beat up jeans from her dresser, pulling those on, along with a faded purple tank top. Her hair still smelled like greasy diner food, but at least her clothes didn't anymore.

A quick glance into her brother's empty bedroom as she had moved through the hallway to get to her own let her know that he wasn't sleeping - he hadn't even been in his room at all. She knew he was supposed to be home from work though. Keith told her he would be. It was their birthday.

Grabbing a small box from her bag, she moved into the hallway and peered around. The bathroom was empty, she hadn't seen him in the kitchen or dining room when she passed and he wasn't in his room. Jane paused at the entrance to their father's room. Looking through the windows of his bedroom and out into the backyard, Jane could see a flickering light from the old, thick plastic playhouse they used to spend hours in. Without any hesitation, Jane found herself creeping out through the living room and through the dining room to the back door, which she opened just as silently as she had managed with the front.

The wet grass felt cold between her toes and the breeze managed to displace a few strands of hair from the clip they were pulled into, but she wasn't too focused on any of that now. Just the light seeping through the closed faded blue shutters and door.

Jane knelt in front of the plastic house. They used to be able to just walk right in. Now on the rare occasions they went out there, they had to crawl inside.

She reached out and pulled the handle of the door, cracking it a pinch and peeking inside. Keith was there, appearing somewhat like a giant from a fairytale. The small plastic counter on his left was acting as his armrest as he read a book that was propped up on his stomach. She couldn't tell where the black sleeping bag he was nestled into ended and the black t-shirt he was wearing began, but his pale face and his dirty blonde hair against his ratty, old Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pillowcase stood out enough for her eyes to lock onto in the dim light. The longer she stared, the more she could almost make out the scar that graced his right cheek. The tiny windowsill behind him and to his left held a candle that smelled strongly of pine and the way the flame danced around the miniature interior gave her a chill. She didn't want to stand outside any longer. Jane suddenly wanted to feel the safety of the playhouse - what they used to feel when they were little. Nothing could ever get them in there.

"Knock knock."

"Oh, hey."

Keith quickly sat up as she entered, setting his book down on the counter. He watched her weasel her way into the small house, hunkered over and shuffling in small steps. There was no room for her to sit on the other side of the counter (there was when they were five) so she planted herself, cross-legged, in front of him at the foot of his sleeping bag.

"Are you okay? You don't usually come out here unless you're feeling..." She shrugged. "Nostalgic? Lost in thought?"

"Yeah. Of course I'm okay."

He didn't tell her about the new bruise at the base of his neck.

Jane tilted her head, narrowing her eyes and reading him momentarily before giving up and handing him the box she had carried out with her.

"Happy birthday."

A smile crept across his lips as he took the box and opened it. There was a silver watch inside. A silver watch with a second hand that moved. The face was black with the numbers and hands in a darker shade of silver than the band.

"I know you replaced the battery in your other one and it was fine, but even then it was still falling apart. I thought you might want something a little nicer." She paused, shaking her head. "I mean, it's still a knockoff. I can't afford anything too extravagant but I figured-"

"Janey."

"Hm?"

"Hush, it's perfect." He reached under the sleeping bag and blankets he had lugged out to the playhouse and pulled a larger box out, scooting it across the blankets to her. "Here." Once she picked it up, he began fiddling with the watch, slipping it around his wrist and studying the screen in the candlelight. He only paused and looked up when his sister found what was in the tissue paper. Keith had wanted to see her face when she realized what was in that box.

"Keith, these are-! They were so much though, why did you spend so much?"

"Try them on."

"I can't. You have to take-"

"Do you want me to force them on your feet? Try them on."

Jane was looking down at a pair of shoes she had been admiring for quite some time. They were flat, black ankle boots and whenever they passed the shoe store near the center of town, she always made a comment about how they reminded her of the shoes she used to wear to dance class when she was younger. There was a silver clasp on the front of both of them just like her old shoes as well. Jane ran her finger along the heel of the right shoe and looked up at her brother.

"You know these are just gonna make me want to dance again, right?"

"How is that a bad thing?"

"It's not... I just..." She trailed off, looking back down to the shoes. "You know who won't approve of that."

Jane felt a hand on her wrist and looked up to Keith, who was leaning towards her with a sly grin on his face. "Dad can't hold you back forever."

She watched him lean back and she felt the spot on her wrist where his hand left suddenly grow cold. He reached under the small counter and pulled out a little white box, opening it and placing it between them.

"Happy birthday. I know it's not us in the city..."

Reaching into the box, Jane grabbed the chocolate cupcake closest to her and began to peel the wrapper off. "It's fine, Keith. As long as we're both here, it's a perfectly good birthday." With a mouthful of cupcake, Jane added, "I approve."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying their makeshift dessert picnic inside the plastic playhouse. They began to reminisce about their dance classes from when their mother was still alive when their chuckles were interrupted by multiple crashes. Then yelling.

Keith reached out, over the counter and pushed the shutters of the window on the south wall open. He leaned over the counter to watch and he could feel his sister inches away from his back, her chin hovering over his shoulder. They both stared, lips pursed and eyes wide. There were lights on in their house now. They could see the shape of their father, silhouetted in the dining room, arms flailing and screams drifting out into the backyard. Sometimes this happened, but never when they were present. They would come home from work and find family photos torn, frames broken, knick-knacks and souvenirs from family trips shattered on the ground.

Soon there would be nothing left.

"I'm not going back in there tonight," Jane whispered. "I can't look at that right now."

Keith said nothing, his eyes still locked on their house and the shadow roaming around inside from window to window.

Moving away from him, Jane sat with her feet under her, her gaze drifting from the house to her brother. She briefly noticed a splotch of something black and blue peeking out from the collar of his shirt, but he turned around and motioned to the pile of blankets and his sleeping bag before she could say something about it.

"You're welcome to stay out here. That's what I'm planning on doing."

It was a trick of the candlelight, right? Jane asked herself this in her head as she nodded to her brother and crawled into the mess of blankets he had been settled in earlier. Right?

Jane faced the wall of the playhouse, her hands under the balled up blanket that was acting as her pillow. She could feel Keith climbing back into his sleeping bag behind her.

"Thank you for the shoes, Keith."

"No problem. And thank you for my watch. Now I just need some fancy clothes to match it."

Turning over, Jane accidentally kicked Keith's right leg on the way.

Her brother groaned. "God, I forgot how brutal you are when you sleep. It's gonna be like those trips to the cabin when we were little where you kicked me mercilessly while you snored."

Jane let out a laugh in response."I'm not denying the kicking but I don't snore."

"Bullshit."

"Bulltrue."

Keith looked at her, cracked a slight smile despite the violent noises that had died down in their house and turned towards their source of light.

Her eyes hit his back again when he leaned up to blow the candle out. She thought she saw the colors again, but she kept telling herself it was just the lighting. It had to be.

It wasn't another bruise...

And if it was he would tell me, right?