#sibling tattoos

Sam chuckled and stretched their legs out. “Why don’t you head home? It’s late.”

“I will,” Isaac said. “Not just yet, though. I want to stay a little longer.”

“This is nice,” Gavin said on Isaac’s other side. “Just… being with people.”

Isaac nodded. His gaze moved slowly across the room. He took in the people dancing, the fairy lights hanging from the worn walls of the community center, the mailboxes in the far corner, the darkness waiting just outside the windows. He wished the whole family was here; Vera and Tori had left hours ago, and Finn and Ellis had taken Iris home about an hour after that. Edrissa had slipped out at some point in the night.

Still, everyone he knew, everyone he loved – they were all here, in this town, within a twenty-minute walk from his house. He could see Vera and Tori tomorrow, if he wanted. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. He could watch Iris while Finn and Ellis rested – watch her grow, and change, seemingly right before his eyes – and he did, every week. He could walk to Kali’s house and she would sit him down and make him tea and they would talk about the snows this winter, or the supply of flour coming into Laporte, or the way it was still sometimes hard to leave his gun in the car. He woke up every day next to Gavin, and saw Sam every day as well – and they were happy with the new extension built into the house that gave them their own room. As he looked around at the slow-dancing people around him, his throat tightened, and he swallowed the thick lump that tightened in his throat.

As if Sam could read his mind, they reached out and squeezed his hand gently. He squeezed back.

With their arm extended, he could see their tattoo: a sprig of Queen Anne’s Lace that wound around their left wrist. He had a matching one on his own wrist, over the shackle scars there.

“Edrissa says the flower means safety and sanctuary,” Sam had said when they suggested it.

“It’s perfect,” Isaac had said. It was one of the first tattoos he got.

Tears burned his eyes as he traced the pale, delicate design on their wrist with his finger. Everything was so calm, so warm. He smiled and swallowed again.

“This was nice,” he rasped. “I’m glad we were able to put this together.”

“Nice for you, maybe,” Sam said with a laugh. Their slinged hand tightened, then released again. “You didn’t have to try and keep this from Edrissa for a month.”

“That’s true,” Isaac conceded. “No, I only had to figure out how to source the supplies four dozen cupcakes without the town’s worst snoop finding out about it.”

“I think that’s an easier job than keeping her busy and away from here for the past few days while we set up,” Sam said, pouting out their lower lip. “Resourcing is a skill, but deception is an art.”

Gavin snorted. “Christ,” he huffed. “No, the hardest job was convincing Ciara to be torn away from her seedlings for an entire afternoon and evening, and that was courtesy of yours truly.” Gavin inclined his head and flourished his hand as if he was giving a bow. “And without her, we wouldn’t have had music. So, you’re welcome.”

As if on cue, the song changed again. Isaac smiled. He didn’t know any of these songs; he didn’t know any songs, really, but he liked what he was hearing. “Hm. I think Gavin wins.”

“No fair,” Sam protested with a grin.

Isaac laughed. “I mean, Meredith is the one who baked the cupcakes, so I can’t even take credit for that one.”

Gavin snorted. “You should just be grateful I wasn’t the one baking them.”

“We would have survived,” Isaac said, nudging him playfully. “As long as we had Finn to take care of us after.”

The three of them laughed together. The warmth in Isaac’s chest swept through him, so sweet that it ached. Once their laughter died down, they were all quiet for a while, watching the others dance. Isaac swam in the music, in the softness, in the joy.

Sam stood. “Wanna dance?” they said, holding a hand out to Isaac.

“Sure,” he said. He kissed Gavin’s cheek and followed Sam out onto the dance floor. Once they reached the center of it, they embraced and swayed in place. Isaac rested his cheek on the top of Sam’s head. They laid their head on his chest. Their slinged arm was carefully tucked between them.

Isaac felt the steady rise and fall of their chest, the slow shuffle of their feet on the floor beside his. His lips pulled into a smile as he held them tight, then tighter. When they shifted their arm in its sling, he loosened his embrace and held them gently again. They squeezed him, he squeezed back.

“Love you,” he said simply, his breath ruffling their curls.

“Love you, too,” they murmured.

He listened to the words, felt them spread through him like warmth. He looked up and saw Gavin watching them with a gentle smile.

I love you, Gavin mouthed.

Isaac felt those words, too. He felt the slow, steady beat of the music vibrate through the floor into his shoes. He felt the warmth of the air around him, and the glow of the dim fairy lights hung on the walls that made everything look golden and sweet. He felt his sibling holding him tight, their head resting on his chest, safe, breathing slowly in time with him. And he knew, close-by, the rest of his family was safe and warm.

He buried his face in Sam’s hair and smiled, and smiled, and smiled.

THE END