Lukas stood still, frozen. He couldn't believe the sight in front of his eyes. He knew the others behind him had frozen up in the same way as him. Slowly, one step at a time, he stepped in. As he reached the bed, he felt his legs give in under him, falling to his knees, grabbing onto the side of the bed. He felt Emil's cold fingers brush against his knuckles. He looked at him, unblinking, scared that if he did it would all turn out to be a dream. A wonderfully toxic dream.

He got up, shaking, sitting down gently on the side of the bed, trying to not move it too much, interlocking his fingers with the younger brother's. He was paler and thinner than he had been before, but his violet eyes still held a glimmer to them. His silver hair had grown to the point where it covered his eyes like that of an Icelandic Horse.

After a second of silence, Lukas said, "You need a haircut." The boy made a face, sliding some hair behind his ear, away from his eyes.

"It's nice to see you too, Lukas." The Norwegian smiled lightly. It was a miracle. A wonderful, wonderful miracle. The disbelief and wonder that he felt filled him up, starting with his chest and spreading through his limbs.

He felt Emil's hand run up from his knuckles up the length of his arm to his face, resting on his cheek. He lifted his hand to meet his, cuffing it, closing his eyes, feeling the small smile he had falter on his lips. A single warm crystal fell silently down his cheek as he pressed the other's hand to his face, his breathing short. Without thinking, he fell against the other, burying his face in the fabric of the hospital gown that smelt like Emil. Emil, his little brother, awake. He could feel his shoulders shaking and the elevation of the younger's chest.

He heard something in the corridor. It was the sound of someone talking but he couldn't make out who it was. He turned to look at the door, aware of the trails left down his face, Emil turning too, more sharply, like he had been snapped back into focus. Everyone's eyes focused on the ward door close to immediately, other than Mathias' who's, Lukas noticed, lingered on him a while longer before turning. They spectated quietly as their father-figure walked through the door, looking at someone beyond their sight. However that wasn't for long.

Leon's eyes were on a bouquet of fresh Mountain Avens that he held in his hands, as if he wanted to look at anything other than the bed. Érik raised a hand that stopped him, forcing him to look up.

And stop. His golden eyes grew wide, lips gaping, taking in a large breath of air. Lukas felt Emil stiffen underneath him, his breathing raspy in his chest. Leon ran up to him and Lukas, breathing about as even as the Icelandic boy's, eyes tightly glued to Emil's, a gaze passing between them like there was no one else.

Lukas scooted away, heaving himself off the bed, leaving the two teenagers to themselves. He stood by Mathias, who scanned his face, seeming to think for a second. After a short hesitation, he wiped Lukas' cheek with the back of his hand, earning a grimace at the contact but no objections. The Dane grinned, and he couldn't help but smile lightly back. This seemed to leave the other stunned for a second, before he said,

"You should smile more often."

The Norwegian sighed, crossing his arms. "It's better to save it."

They shared a look, a long look, neither looking away. It was just a simple gaze however something in that look felt like... more. He couldn't properly describe it, but he felt it in the way his body relaxed and the way Mathias' grin was replaced to a look of wonder. An outstanding warmth radiated from his chest, right where his heart was.

He felt his chest tighten, looking back at his brother and the Chinese boy sharply, feeling his face redden. It couldn't be... could it? That'd be a cliché and no one liked a cliché. He bit the inside of his cheek. He didn't have feelings for Mathias. That'd be ridiculous. Preposterous. Out of the question. He could feel the other's eyes watching him worriedly, his brows probably furrowed in that way that he did with his head titled slightly and his mouth slightly agape...

How did he know all that? He looked at his feet, trying to concentrate on anything other than the feeling of being watched and the surprise at how well he knew his spectator. It was due to having known him since they were kids, he reassured himself, although a part of him didn't buy it. It was nothing. He put the thoughts to the back of his head.

His head snapped back as he heard the door opening. This time it was a man he recognised as a doctor, specifically the one who was looking after his brother. He was as tall as Berwald which was incredibly so, with light blonde hair and violet eyes, his deep-set nose his defining feature. He held a clipboard in his hands.

"Good afternoon," he greeted, his Russian accent think. The doctor walked over to the Icelander who regarded him with a half-informed expression. He looked over some papers before looking at the boy again. "Emil, my name Dr. Braginsky. How are you feeling."

"All right," Emil's hand gripped Leon's tightly as he answered the man's question.

"Good good," he replied cheerfully. "It seems you're all clear. There's a wheelchair waiting for you for when you want to leave to sign out." Lukas furrowed his brows at that.

"Why does he need a wheelchair?" he asked, puzzled. The man looked back at him with a smile.

"Don't you know?" He looked over at Érik who's lips were a tight line. "You didn't tell them, did you?" He sighed shaking his head as Mathias sent his dad a confused glance. "Emil's nerve system was badly damaged in the crash. He won't ever walk again."

Lukas felt his heart plummet to his stomach. He glanced at the platinum haired boy who was staring at his legs, his friend watching him with wide brown eyes. Dr Braginsky nodded to Érik and left, causing a silence to fill the room. No one spoke. Nothing was needed to be said. Everyone thought as one.

Emil closed his eyes. "Get the wheelchair," he whispered, "I want to go home." Érik left to get the chair, being the only one who wasn't completely breaking down. Tino's eyes were filled with tears as Berwald hugged him, placing small butterfly kisses on the top of his head, Leon and Lukas unable to move. Mathias placed a hand on the Norwegian's shoulder that he didn't even brush away. He wanted to cry but couldn't.

He felt too empty to.

Lukas had insisted to be the one to push the chair. They had walked home in near silence, other than that of Tino and Mathias trying to make light of the situation to no avail. At least it was better than before, Lukas thought. He could have never woken up. They could have ended up deciding to pull the plug.

He shuddered at the thought, pushing it far away, greatful that had not been the case and he had his brother back. He couldn't push that dark empty feeling away though, and it bothered him. It felt like nothing but everything; an all consuming darkness. Mathias walked in step with him.

"When we get home we can have fish," he proposed, trying to sound enthusiastic, "How about mackerel? You both love mackerel!"

Emil nodded lightly. "Yeah, that sounds pretty good. I mean I haven't eaten in 3 months, mackerel is a good place to start."

Mathias grinned. "It's settled then."

Érik had stayed behind to sort the last few things out, leaving them with a house to themselves. Mathias ran off to make the meal, Lukas wheeling Emil into the lounge where they sat with Tino and Berwald, informing the boy about the last few months. Somewhere in the middle, Mathias had walked in with a tray carrying their plates with fish, stating that Érik would surely not mind them eating there this one time.

As they had finished, Berwald stood up, saying he was going to get a glass of water. They all nodded, waiting for him to come back. But he didn't. Tino got up, his movement skittish, saying he was going to check on him. When he hadn't returned either was when Lukas got really worried. He looked pointedly at Mathias who nodded, turning to the youngest.

"So Ice," he grinned as Lukas got up, "Now that you have a wheelchair, how does taking up wheelchair basketball sound?"

Internally, Lukas facepalmed. Externally he left, making his way to the kitchen where he saw the crumpled figures of the two missing Nordics sitting on the floor, the Finn gently wrapping the Swede in his arms as he held on to a piece of paper. Tino glanced at him as he walked in with a sad smile.

He knelt down beside them, glancing over at the paper. It was a letter, a few wet patches that he could only place as tears staining the parchment. He took it with no resistance. The writing was messy but legible, probably belonging to that of a child no older than Arthur's little brother Peter who was 12.

Dear Berwald,

You don't know me but I know you. I'm Erland. I'm your younger brother! Or, half-brother I suppose. I asked the nice lady who comes and she said I can write to you if I wanted so...

Dad has a new wife. Well new isn't the right word after 11 years but you know what I mean. My mum. She's been helping him out a lot and he talks about you a lot and I just thought you should know that! He misses you and wants you to come home to Växjö or at least visit. I'd love to meet you! You sound like a great brother, and need to know how brilliant a younger brother you have!

I hope you write back!

Erland

P.S. Sorry for writing in English I wasn't sure how good your Swedish skills are.

He handed it back quietly. None of them said anything for a while, the only sound being their breathing.

"This might be a bad time but I never asked what happened to you when you were a kid." Berwald looked at him, face pained. "If you don't mind me asking."

Tino watched the other nervously, but he just sighed. "'t's nothing big," he replied slowly, "M' mum died and dad couldn't handle it. Started t' drink an' gamble. Got into a lot of debt. An' like with ya an' Emil, Érik saved me. I got letters from 'im in the first year but then they stopped. Until this," he lifted the piece of paper, not taking his eyes off it. He grew quiet again, everything said.

Lukas' thoughts turned to his own family; father gone, and mother losing her sanity to the point of being unable to look after them anymore. Tino was crying quietly, stroking the Swede's hair.

He spoke up slowly, softly. "My situation was similar," he attempted to be supportive, recounting his own story, noticing the other's shoulders slumping. His muscles seemed to give in, letting him fall down into the Finn's arms.

He was half-aware of Mathias and Emil in the doorway, having listened to at least half the conversation. The older wheeled the younger over before settling himself down beside Lukas. Berwald looked at each of their faces, lingering on Tino's face, each of them sending him supportive glances. He seemed to smile lightly, closing his eyes. The peace that followed was a tranquil one; warm, comfortable, joyous.

Home.

Eyyy new chapter. I have two and a half weeks of school left before it's summer break so I will be writing during that. Hopefully a chapter will be up before the 24th as that is when I'm going to Poland for a week so you won't be getting a chapter at that time.

I hope you liked this though! Review and tell me what you thought. ~

Byes guys