Lucas let the breath leave his lungs slowly. For the first time in a long time, it didn't scrape on the way out.
Trevor watched him with that quiet, unwavering focus that had carried them through every fracture and memory that didn't belong in the present. His hand stayed at Lucas's neck, steady and warm.
Lucas's gaze softened. "I don't feel hunted anymore," he said.
Trevor smiled, small and real. "Good."
The room settled into a gentle stillness. Dean slept peacefully, curled against Lucas's chest. Trevor leaned his forehead lightly against Lucas's temple, their breaths slowly syncing.
For one brief moment, it felt like the world had stopped trying to pull them backward.
And then, naturally… the universe reminded them exactly who else lived in this house.
A sound barreled down the hallway.
"PAPA! DAAAAD!"
Trevor barely had half a second to register the incoming threat before the door slammed open with the force of a miniature hurricane.
