Page 4 of Saving Her Dragon

It was perfect.

At least... that's what everyone else would remember.

“He smells different. Not bad. Just... different,” Darwin chimed in.

“How?” Grey tried not to be pissed that the Dragon King was putting a damper on their reunion.

“Don’t get testy,” Darwin huffed. “It’s just an observation.”

“Explain.”

“I expected to smell residual smoke, blood, sulfur… But all I get is lavender soap. Sydney’s obviously a good influence in that department.”

“And?”

“Well, I expected to smell the Abyss,” Darwin added. “And I know you did, too.”

“Yeah, alright,” Grey reluctantly admitted. “You got me, but I don’t get any of that.” Pausing for a second, he happily added, “All I get is home. It is one of the best feelings ever. Garrett is home.”

Returning all his focus to his brother, Grey hugged him tighter. To everyone looking on, it had to seem idyllic.

But to Grey, something was off. Something that he was not going to share with his Dragon King… not just yet.

Garrett had paused for maybe just half a heartbeat. There had been a tiny fraction of stiffness before his arms came up to return the embrace.

It was almost nothing. Grey instantly dismissed it. The man had literally been through Hell and held by the Demon Lord of Envy itself. A little hesitation was entirely reasonable, right?

Then why did it bother Grey so much that his brother hesitated? Why couldn’t he chalk it up to trauma?

Within an hour, everyone gathered at a large wooden table on the back patio. The morning rolled into the afternoon. There was plenty of food, fresh coffee, sweet tea, and lots of easy laughter. The Acheson brothers took turns telling embarrassing stories from their childhood, trying to one-up each other. There was no talk of politics, no mention of threats, and absolutely no plot to the conversation. It was the perfect illusion of a seamless reunion.

But beneath the laughter, microscopic clues began to splinter the perfection. Grey tried to ignore it, but even Darwin was taking note.

Someone at the table cracked a joke. Everyone burst into immediate laughter. Garrett laughed too… but it happened exactly one beat later than everyone else, a delayed mimicry.

A few minutes later, Grey leaned forward, gesturing with his mug. "Hey, Garrett, remember when we sneaked out to the old orchard and tried to harvest those sour apples?"

Garrett smiled, his eyes bright. "I remember."

He stopped there. He didn't finish the memory. He didn't add a detail. Usually, Garrett loved to be the one to finish the story, and always in painstaking detail. Once again, Grey mentally shrugged it off, assuming it was just memory gaps from decades of a magically induced sleep coma and torture.

No one commented or reacted, not even Carrick, who had known the brothers since birth.

No one… Except Sydney.

Grey caught her watching Garrett from across the table. For a second, Garrett’s eyes were completely vacant, staring into space as if he were just... gone. Sydney reached out, lightly touching his forearm. Instantly, Garrett snapped back, offering her a quick smile, and everything returned to normal.

Shaking his head, Grey refused to let the seeds of doubt take hold. Watching Garrett, he felt a wave of profound gratitude.

“He’s alive,” Grey mentally whispered. “Sure, he’s thinner. He looks older. He’s much more reserved, but he’s here.”

“And emotional healing takes so much more time than the physical, my love,” Star reassured.

“You are so right.”

The physical rescue was the hard part, and it was over. The rest would come.

Later in the afternoon, the rest of the group drifted inside, leaving Grey and Garrett alone on the porch.