The morning sun was climbing higher when Ryan suggested a stop in the nearby town of Pinewood for breakfast. The team had been running on coffee and adrenaline since before dawn, and the suggestion was met with tired nods. Pinewood was a quiet place, the kind of town where everyone knew everyone else, and the FBC's transport vehicle drew a few curious stares as they parked near a small diner.
Trench hesitated as they stepped out. Pinewood wasn't just any town—it was his hometown. The streets, the storefronts, even the faint smell of woodsmoke in the air brought back a flood of memories he'd been trying to bury since he joined the Bureau.
"You good?" Reyes asked, noticing his reluctance.
Trench forced a shrug. "Yeah. Just… been a while since I've been here."
The diner was warm and bustling, the clatter of plates and murmur of conversations filling the air. They found a booth near the back, and Ryan ordered for the table, opting for a spread of pancakes, eggs, and bacon that promised to refuel them for the day ahead. Trench sat with his back to the door, hoping to avoid any awkward encounters.
"This place has good coffee," Reyes said, sipping from her cup. "Feels like a different world compared to the Oldest House."
Trench nodded absently, his attention drawn to the sound of the bell above the door jingling as someone entered. He froze as a familiar voice cut through the din.
"Zachariah?"
His heart sank. Turning slowly, he met the wide eyes of his mother, a mixture of shock and hesitation written across her face. His father stood just behind her, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable. Trench hadn't seen them in months—not since the day he left Pinewood without so much as a goodbye.
"Mom. Dad," he said stiffly, standing out of instinct more than desire. His teammates exchanged curious glances but wisely stayed silent.
His mother's face softened, but her voice trembled. "What are you doing here? We… we thought you were still in Virginia."
"Work brought me back," he said, keeping his tone neutral. "It's just for a few days."
His father's eyes narrowed. "Work, huh? Still not enough time to pick up a phone?"
Trench's jaw tightened. "I've been busy."
"Too busy for your family?" his father pressed, the words carrying the weight of years of unresolved tension. "You left without a word, Zachariah. You never explained why."
"Too busy for your family?" his father pressed, the words carrying the weight of years of unresolved tension, from even when he was a teenager. "You left without a word, Zachariah. You never explained why."
Trench nodded, his throat tight. "It's good to see you too."
An awkward silence settled over the group until Reyes, ever the pragmatist, cleared her throat. "Trench, we're on a schedule."
"Right," he said, grateful for the excuse. He turned back to his parents. "I… I'll try to stop by before we leave town. But I have to go."
His mother smiled faintly. "Be careful, Zachariah."
His father said nothing, but his gaze followed Trench as he returned to the booth. The team finished their meal quickly, the tension lingering as they exited the diner and headed back to the transport.
As they drove out of Pinewood, Reyes glanced at Trench. "So… that was your family."
Trench sighed, leaning back in his seat. "Yeah. That was them."
"Want to talk about it?" she asked, her tone surprisingly gentle.
"Not really," he admitted. "But thanks."
Ryan, ever the voice of experience, spoke without turning. "Family's tricky. Doesn't matter how far you run, they're always with you. Might be worth trying to patch things up while you're here. You never know when you'll get another chance."
Trench didn't respond, his mind churning with memories and emotions he'd long buried. As the forest closed in around them once more, he resolved to push it aside—at least until the mission was over. For now, there were bigger threats to face than his past.