Short fic written for Secret Santa in 2014. / It hits me, like it does now and then: He's not coming back. He's dead. Enormous townhouses and orphans stuffed in every corner and the racket of a kitchen full of kids isn't going to change it. He's dead, I think at her, trying to stare a hole into her forehead. He's dead.
Rated: K - English - Angst/Family - Chapters: 1 - Words: 2,350 - Reviews: 1 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 1 - Published: 3/7 - Idony S., Noah S. - Complete