Page 54 of Make Them Pay

I find Render crouched beside the couch, speaking so softly I can't make out the words. Whatever he says, it eases something tight in Ozzy. His shoulders loosen just enough to tell me the weight he's been carrying has shifted, even if only a little.

Across the room, Orchid waits until Poe is stable before pulling Dean aside. They disappear into a conversation that looks as heavy as the night we've survived.

That leaves me drifting into the kitchen with Poe.

For a while, neither of us speaks.

I just look at him.

His face is battered. One eye is swollen nearly shut, dried blood traces the line of his jaw, and fresh bruises are already blooming beneath his skin.

But his eyes...

They're still my brother's.

Still the same eyes that used to dare me to race him down the block. The same ones that always found me when I was scared.

"You look like hell," I say, because if I let myself say anything else, I might cry.

The corner of his mouth twitches. "You should see the other guy," he rasps.

Then his smile fades, and his gaze searches mine like he's making sure I'm really standing here. "You're okay." Three words. Barely louder than a breath.

"I'm okay."

The relief that crosses his face is small, but it's there. It’s unmistakable.

For the first time since all of this started, I think we both believe it.

He reaches out and takes my hand, the way he used to when we were kids and something had scared me. His fingers are rough and trembling a little. “I tried to keep you out of it,” he says. “I thought I was protecting you.”

“I know.” My voice comes out softer than I expect. “But keeping me blind wasn’t protection, Poe. It just meant that when they came for me I didn’t even understand why. I had to learn everything the hard way, alone, because you wouldn’t let me in.”

He closes his eyes for a second. When he opens them again they’re wet. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I thought if you never knew the details, you’d never be a target. Turns out I was wrong about all of it.”

I squeeze his hand. “We’re both still here. That’s what matters right now.”

We talk a little longer. I don’t tell him about Render. Not yet. Let him heal a bit more before I bring up that bombshell.

“Go find him,” Poe says, almost smiling.

“Who?”

He nods toward Render. “The one who rescued you. Fuck, the one who rescued me too. He keeps looking this way like he’s waiting for permission.”

My cheeks warm and I don’t deny it. “How did you…” my words fall away.

“I’ve kind of always knew he had a thing for you. And now I see how you both can’t keep your eyes off each other.” He chuckles lightly. “Honestly, it’s kind of making me nauseous.”

I laugh, and then I give my big brother a hug, careful not to make his injuries worse.

I find Render in the hallway outside the operations room. He’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, watching the unspoken chaos of the house with that steady focus of his. When he sees me the tension in his shoulders eases a fraction.

“You talk to him?” he asks.

“Yeah. We’re… okay. Or we will be.”

He nods. Then he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair off my face with the back of his fingers, the touch light and careful. “You did good out there,” he whispers. “All of it.”