Once, when he was very small—one of his earliest memories was of getting lost at the market. It was busy, warm out, and the nice lady at the stall beside the clothier offered him some berries for being so good while Mama paid. He didn’t move until he finished his treat, and when he looked up Mama and Javic were gone.

Javic found him, of course—but the way he called out his name…that memory had been gone for half a century until this moment. Until Jack—until Grayheard it again, deeper and more even in adulthood.

Without hesitating Gray punched him, square in the jaw.

A second later, he was on him, arms wrapping him in a crushing embrace as he gulped down huge, heaving breaths, trying to keep his heart from beating out of his chest, fighting to keep the spots from dancing in his vision.

Clinging to him as relentlessly as he’d clung to reason and hope for so many years, through so much pain.

“I knew it.” He chokes out. “I knew it…I knew…”

I knew I would find you. I knew I remembered you. I knew you wouldn’t abandon me. I knew Mickey kept me alive for a reason. I knew I wasn’t alone.

He wants to say it all out loud, but he can’t. Gray can’t find enough air, can’t find enough words. He can only hold on for dear life and keep trying to cling to sanity as the sky opens up again—this time with a torrential downpour that beats down, hard and angry but warm as a summer night.

“I knew…I knew…I knew…”