He doesn’t.
“Twice a week. He can come out here twice a week. But Reid, if I ever think you’ve hurt him—”
“If I hurt him, I’d let you do whatever the hell you want to me. I’d dig the hole for you to bury me in.”
John stares at him and nods. The conviction in Reid’s eyes is terrifying.
Chase bangs out of the RV and gives Tyler a dusty smile. “Bye, Ty,” he chirps and slides into the front of the cruiser.
“He won’t like it, being restricted to twice a week,” John predicts.
Reid shrugs. “He’ll accept it—it’s far better than the alternative.”
John dips his head in agreement and turns away.
Reid clears his throat. “Thank you.”
“I’m not doing this for you, Reid,” John says evenly, a spike of anger in his belly.
Reid nods seriously. “I know. But I still want to thank you.”
He falls back a step and John slides into the cruiser. Chase is almost purring where he’s curled against the window, dropping rapidly toward sleep. John sighs.
He hopes like hell he’s doing the right thing here.
Chapter 5
The first time John drops Chase off, he walks him inside and watches for a few minutes from the narrow doorway as Chase curls up in the corner of the couch, his feet pushed under Lucas Reid’s leg. It doesn’t take long before he retreats with an awkward smile for Tyler and his son.
Chase sits there, motionless and tense, until the sound of the cruiser fades, and when he goes to move, Tyler stills him with a light touch on his shoulder. He waits quietly, waiting, and then, finally, he huffs and starts to move away.
Chase makes a low, hurt noise, and Tyler turns, catching the boy as he throws himself in Tyler’s arms. Tyler sighs a little, but his arms come around Chase’s shoulders and hold him tight as he shakes and tears turn his shirt damp.
“It’s ok, Chase,” he murmurs, “You’re ok.”
Chase shivers and says, voice muffled, “I missed you.”
Tyler doesn’t answer. He just hugs him tighter as the coffee burbles and the oatmeal scorches on the bottom.
It doesn’t matter that breakfast is burned—Chase is home, and everything is as it should be.
~*~
It isn’t perfect after that, but it’s better. John delivers Chase to Tyler and Lucas’s RV before his shifts on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and—
Chase starts talking again.
He’s still angry and sometimes they argue about how often he should be allowed to see the Reids. Sometimes he ignores John and retreats into silence. Sometimes he jogs for hours and comes home with his face tear-stained and remote.
John thinks that’s more teenage angst and losing his mother than anything else.
And sometimes, Chase sits down and watches a baseball game with him.
It isn’t perfect, but it’s better, and John is willing to take better, willing to work towards more than that.
~*~
Chase doesn’t have nightmares anymore.
But he dreams.
~*~
His dreams are always the same.
He runs through woods that are both familiar and strange, that are foreign and recognizable, and a body presses against him, guiding him with nips and low huffs. He yips, happy and young, before he runs, body lean and quick and nimble over the dirt and underbrush, through the trees.
His companion howls and runs with him. He laughs, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he peers up at the big shadow with bright blue eyes.
A black wolf—
He runs with two wolves, but he is small, so much smaller than them, and he doesn’t think he’s a wolf, doesn’t know why he runs with wolves—the big black wolf always finds them, drawn by their scuffling and play. He yips a happy greeting and is rewarded with a gentle nip on the ear, a thorough sniff before he’s pounced, and the breath rushes from him in an undignified huff.
It always starts like that, and they end up in front of the burnt ground he recognizes despite never having been there. The gray wolf vanishes then, and he lazes near his black wolf, eyes half closed until he hears footsteps in the woods, carrying a scent he recognizes.
And then—it’s always what wakes him—he hears a voice, a voice he doesn’t know and wants to, murmuring, Chase.
The dreams make him anxious, but he doesn’t talk about them to anyone save for Lucas.
Lucas, silent and staring into nothing, keeps all his secrets.
~*~
The summer ends in a golden wash of afternoons spent with the Reids and days blowing shit up on the PS4 with Ben. John spends more time at home, and Chase forces him through a Lord of the Rings marathon, a punishment and peace offering both.
By the time school resumes, it’s peaceful. John still gets a little tight around the eyes when Chase brings up Tyler, but he doesn’t discourage his son’s friendship with the Reids. He’s spent enough dinners with them to know it’s good for Chase.
Ben coaxes Chase into trying out for the football team and they both make it, to the delight and pride of both John and Tyler.
Chase grins at the celebratory dinner and wags his forkful of potato salad. “I knew you’d agree on something eventually.”
Tyler rolls his eyes while John huffs in exasperation and Chase smirks, throwing a knowing look at Lucas before he picks off a piece of potato and feeds it to him delicately.
They’re eating in the kitchen of the house for the first time, and Chase is more excited about that milestone than he is about his dubious sports achievement.
After dinner, while John keeps Lucas company with a beer outside, Chase helps Tyler do the dishes, drying them and slipping them in the right cabinet with a smile.
“I could play,” he says, and Tyler glances at him. “I’m not bad. I think the krav maga and running has really paid off.”
He smiles shyly at Tyler, who watches him patiently.
“It’s just—if I’m playing and he’s on the bench, Ben’s all by himself, you know? And I can’t
