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It was a normal day. Nick sat in his math class, barely paying attention. He despised math with a passion, and it showed. Only the second class of the day, and he was already exhausted.
Sitting in the back row, he whispered with his friend Chloe, the two of them exchanging their usual banter. Mr. Green, his teacher, didn’t even bother trying to get Nick to focus anymore. He had written him off long ago, once even calling Nick a lost cause in front of the entire class. Nick had worn that title like a badge of honor.
Sure, he wasn’t top of the class, but he passed his exams well enough—Cs and the occasional B. That was all he needed.
So when a sharp knock on the classroom door interrupted their chatter, Nick sat up a little straighter. Mr. Green scowled at the door before barking out a curt, “Come in.”
As the door creaked open, Nick felt a cold pit settle in his stomach. His heart sank further when he saw who it was. Mrs. Holloway, Matt’s art teacher, stood nervously in the doorway. Her gaze quickly found Nick in the back row, and the guilty look on her face made his gut churn.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, but could I borrow Nick for a few moments?” Mrs. Holloway asked timidly, flashing Mr. Green a tight, apologetic smile.
Mr. Green tilted his head, exchanging a knowing look with her before sighing in exasperation. “Take your stuff and follow Mrs. Holloway, Nicolas,” he said sharply, gesturing toward the door.
Nick groaned quietly, already resigned to whatever trouble lay ahead. He gathered his belongings, ignoring the curious stares and hushed whispers from his classmates, and trudged into the hallway after her.
Once the door shut behind them, Nick crossed his arms, his expression guarded. “What happened?” he asked bluntly.
Mrs. Holloway, clearly uncomfortable, avoided his gaze. She nibbled nervously on her lip and cracked her knuckles, making Nick’s irritation spike.
“What’s going on?” he pressed again, his voice edged with growing concern.
She took a shaky breath and started walking, expecting him to follow. “We were doing finger painting in class, and, um… Matt wasn’t enjoying it,” she began awkwardly.
Nick rolled his eyes. “Yeah, no kidding. He hates having stuff on his hands. You should know that by now,” he said, his tone dripping with annoyance.
“I know that now,” she replied defensively, still avoiding his gaze. “But at the time, I… I forgot. I told him he could use paintbrushes instead, but I think he was already upset by our… disagreement.”
Nick stopped walking, glaring at her incredulously. “Wait. You argued with him? Even though you know he has sensory issues? What is wrong with you?”
Mrs. Holloway flinched at his tone, guilt flashing briefly across her face. “I forgot, okay? Matt’s so… normal sometimes, I forget he’s not,” she muttered carelessly.
Nick froze, her words slicing through the air like a blade. His jaw clenched as he stared at her, disbelief and anger bubbling to the surface.
“I beg your pardon?” he said quietly, his voice dangerously low.
She panicked, shaking her head frantically. “That’s not what I meant!”
“Then what did you mean?” Nick snapped, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. “Because what I’m hearing is that you’re calling my brother ‘not normal’ because he’s autistic. And on top of that, you tried to force him to finger paint? What the fuck is wrong with you?”
Mrs. Holloway’s face turned red as she struggled to defend herself. “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m still a teacher,” she said stiffly, clearly flustered.
Nick laughed bitterly. “Yeah? Well, you’re a pretty shitty one, considering you just insulted my brother and ignored his sensory issues,” he shot back.
She huffed but didn’t respond, quickening her pace down the hall.
“Why am I here?” Nick demanded, his patience wearing thin.
“There was… an incident,” she admitted tersely. “With a couple of the boys.” Her steps became more frantic, her shoulders stiff with tension.
Nick’s stomach twisted. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t be good.
“What kind of incident?” Nick demanded, his tone sharp as he matched the pace of Mrs. Holloway’s hurried steps.
She hesitated, wringing her hands nervously. “I didn’t see exactly what happened. I was on the other side of the room,” she admitted, her voice uneven. “One moment, Matt was quietly working on his painting, and the next, he was covered in paint and screaming.”
Nick’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. He could already feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface.
Mrs. Holloway continued awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable. “I tried to calm him down, but it only made things worse. He started thrashing, throwing things everywhere. I… I had to call Miss Temble in to watch over him while I sent the other students out and came to get you.”
Nick’s fists clenched at his sides. If he was angry before, he was absolutely livid now. He forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath. “And the boys who did it?” he asked, his voice dangerously calm.
Mrs. Holloway hesitated again, clearly hoping to avoid this part of the conversation. “Some of the students sitting near Matt told me that a couple of boys were bothering him. They were questioning why he got to use brushes instead of his fingers. When he ignored them… they poured paint on him.”
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling harshly through his nose. His irritation had morphed into outright fury. “Who?” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for deflection.
“It’s being dealt with,” Mrs. Holloway replied weakly, attempting to placate him.
Nick shot her a glare so icy it could freeze the sun. “Who. Was. It?” he repeated, his words clipped. “Matt has been bullied for months, and every time, it’s ‘being dealt with.’ And yet, here we are. So, who did it?”
The teacher sighed, finally relenting under his unyielding glare. “From what I was told… it was Todd and Bryce,” she admitted reluctantly, her expression filled with discomfort.
Nick clenched his jaw so hard it ached, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he focused on the sound coming from the classroom ahead—Matt’s piercing screams cutting through the quiet hallway like a knife.
They reached the classroom door, and Nick paused for a moment, gathering himself. Then, without a word to Mrs. Holloway, he walked in.
The scene before him was utter chaos.
Matt was sitting on the floor, his small frame shaking as he screamed and tugged at his paint-covered hair. Brushes and paint pots were scattered everywhere, and his chair had been flung across the room. The boy was drenched in a mess of colors—his hair, face, arms, and shirt completely coated in bright, sticky paint.
Nick’s stomach dropped. He knew how much Matt hated the sensation of sticky substances on his skin. It was one of his biggest sensory triggers, and now he was utterly covered in it.
“Jesus Christ,” Nick muttered under his breath, his heart aching as he took in the sight of his younger brother in distress.
“Shh, Matty, it’s okay,” Nick murmured, his voice soft and steady as he stepped closer to his brother. Tentatively, he reached out, his hands gentle but firm as he tried to anchor Matt amidst the chaos.
Matt’s face crumpled the moment his eyes landed on Nick, his sobs intensifying as he loudly repeated, “Off! Off!” His hands scrubbed frantically at his skin and hair, smearing the paint further and making the mess worse.
Nick offered him a sad, understanding smile, nodding to show he was listening. “I know, buddy. I know. We’re going to get it off, I promise. It’s alright, just calm down for me, sweetheart,” he coaxed gently, his grip steadying Matt’s flailing arms to prevent him from hurting himself. Nick didn’t flinch as the paint transferred onto his own hands and clothes—Matt’s comfort came first.
Turning his head slightly, Nick fixed Mrs. Holloway with a piercing glare. “You need to call our mom. He needs to go home,” he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, softening his gaze, he turned his attention back to Matt, who was still tugging at his hair, his cries echoing in the paint-splattered classroom.
“Can you walk to the bathroom, Matty?” Nick asked softly, his hand stroking soothing circles on his brother’s arm. “We can start getting the paint off in there.”
But Matt shook his head violently, his cries growing louder as his stimming intensified. “Off! Off!” he yelled, his distress bubbling over again.
Nick nodded patiently, offering him a small, reassuring smile. “Okay, okay, we’ll stay right here. It’s alright, Matty. We’re going to get it off, I promise,” he said soothingly.
With Matt trembling in front of him, Nick pulled his phone from his pocket with one hand while keeping a firm but gentle grip on Matt with the other. He quickly dialed Chris, knowing his youngest brother would drop everything to help.
Chris picked up almost immediately. “Yo, what’s up? I’m in English,” he whispered, his tone casual despite the classroom setting.
Nick let out a small snort at Chris’ disregard for school rules, but his voice turned serious. “It’s Matt. He’s having a meltdown,” Nick said, his tone heavy with worry.
Chris cursed audibly on the other end, followed by a growled, “What happened?” His concern was palpable, mirroring Nick’s earlier anger toward Mrs. Holloway.
Nick sighed, his gaze drifting back to Matt, who was still repeating, “Off,” with heartbreaking urgency. “It’s bad, Chris. He’s covered in paint, and he needs to go home. Can you meet us in the art room?”
“Yeah, of course. I’m coming now. You said art, right?” Chris confirmed quickly, the sounds of him gathering his things audible in the background.
“Yeah, and can you bring some paper towels? He’s a mess,” Nick added, watching as paint dripped from Matt’s hair onto his face, causing the younger boy to shake his head rapidly, sending splatters flying everywhere.
In the background, Nick could hear Chris’ teacher reprimanding him for leaving. Chris’ response was immediate and unapologetic: “Sir, with all due respect, I’m leaving. My brother is upset, and I need to help him.”
Nick’s lips twitched into a small, fleeting smile at Chris’ defiance, even as his chest tightened at Matt’s ongoing distress.
“I’m on my way. Is he okay?” Chris asked, concern lacing his voice as his teacher continued to call after him.
Nick let out another weary sigh. “Not really. He’s freaking out, and he’s covered in paint,” he admitted, his anger barely contained.
Chris let out a sharp curse. “Fucking hell. This school is a joke,” he snapped before quickly regaining his composure. “I’ll grab the towels and be there in a minute,” he promised before hanging up.
Nick pocketed his phone and turned back to Matt, using his free hand to gently swipe some paint from his brother’s face. “I know, Matty, I know. We’re going to get you cleaned up, I promise,” he said softly, his voice a steady anchor in the storm.
Mrs. Holloway hesitantly approached, her presence causing Matt to squirm and stim louder. “Um, your mom will be here soon,” she muttered awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands.
Nick didn’t bother looking at her, keeping his attention firmly on Matt. “You’ve done enough,” he said coldly, his glare sharp when he finally spared her a glance. Her presence only made Matt more agitated, and she quickly stepped back, wringing her hands nervously as she watched from a distance.
Nick returned his focus to Matt, holding his arms steady to prevent him from scratching himself again. “It’s okay, Matty. Chris is on his way, and Mom will be here soon. I’ve got you,” he whispered, his tone as calm and reassuring as he could manage.
Matt’s cries softened slightly, though his body still trembled. Nick tightened his grip around his brother’s arms, offering him the stability and comfort he so desperately needed.
This wasn’t the first time Nick had handled one of Matt’s meltdowns, but that didn’t make it any easier. Still, he would do whatever it took to make sure his brother felt safe again—even if it meant standing in the middle of a paint-splattered classroom, furious and exhausted, while holding his sobbing brother close.
Chris burst into the classroom a few minutes later, clutching a stack of paper towels in one hand and wearing an expression that could only be described as furious. His gaze softened immediately when it landed on Matt, though.
“Hey, Matty,” Chris said gently, tossing his bag to the side and kneeling down beside his brother. “It’s okay, bud. I’m going to clean you up a little, alright?” His voice was calm, his tone full of warmth as he set to work dabbing at Matt’s face with the paper towels.
Nick tightened his hold on Matt to keep him steady, his grip firm yet reassuring. Matt squirmed and continued to vocally stim, his cries of “Off! Off!” still loud and frantic, but neither of his brothers faltered. Chris wiped paint from Matt’s face, hair, and arms with slow, deliberate motions, though the task was far from easy.
By the time Chris had done all he could with the paper towels, Nick could feel Matt trembling slightly less, though his distress was still evident. Nick and Chris murmured soothing words to him, doing everything in their power to help calm him. But both knew that nothing short of a long shower would truly help Matt feel better.
Their mom arrived ten minutes later, her heels clicking sharply against the tiled floor, her face a storm of controlled fury. She marched into the classroom with the school principal trailing nervously behind her.
Her eyes immediately zeroed in on Matt, taking in his paint-smeared hair, tear-streaked face, and trembling frame. Her frown deepened, but she quickly softened her expression when she stepped closer to him.
Marylou knelt down in front of her son, her voice soothing as she spoke. “Hey, baby, we’re going to go home now, alright? We’ll get you cleaned up, and everything will feel better soon,” she said, reaching a hand out to caress Matt’s cheek. But when he flinched, she pulled back without hesitation, giving him the space he needed.
Matt’s face crumpled again, fresh tears rolling down his cheeks as he continued to cry out, “Off! Off!” His distress reignited at the mention of going home before he was clean.
Marylou sighed deeply, her heart breaking for her son, though she kept her tone steady. “Yes, honey. We’re going to get it all off, I promise. Nick, Chris, why don’t you take Matt to the car? I’ll be right there,” she said, her eyes narrowing briefly at the principal and Mrs. Holloway.
Nick didn’t need to be told twice. He nodded, grabbing Matt’s backpack before gently coaxing his brother toward the door. Chris was by his side, offering steady support. Marylou’s words about meeting them at the car made it clear she had unfinished business with the school staff, and both Nick and Chris silently hoped she’d let them have it.
“There are towels on the passenger seat,” Marylou added sternly. “I’ll grab Matt’s things and meet you at the car. Please just get him comfortable.” Her tone left no room for argument, and Nick was already halfway out the door with Matt in tow.
Getting Matt to the car wasn’t easy. He resisted, pulling back toward the school as if determined to clean himself off then and there. Nick and Chris exchanged a quick glance before working together to gently but firmly guide Matt outside.
The fresh air didn’t provide the relief Nick had hoped for. Instead, Matt froze as they passed a group of kids hanging around near the entrance. Nick immediately noticed their stares. While most of the kids stayed quiet, a few couldn’t resist giggling and whispering, clearly amused by Matt’s state.
Nick’s blood boiled as he shot them a glare that could have melted steel. Chris wasn’t far behind, his high energy channeling into his protective instincts. “What the hell is so funny?” Chris barked, his voice sharp and cutting through the air like a whip.
The laughter died instantly, the kids shrinking back under the intensity of the brothers’ combined glares. Matt, however, didn’t seem to notice the exchange, his focus still on the paint covering his skin as he whimpered softly.
Nick and Chris quickened their pace, blocking Matt from view as much as they could while guiding him to the car.
“Okay Matt, I’m going to wrap this towel around you, is that okay?” Chris asked gently once they reached the car. Matt didn’t respond, still squirming in Nick’s hold and repeating “Off” over and over again. Chris glanced at Nick, who gave a small, uncertain shrug.
Sometimes Matt accepted touch during meltdowns; other times, it made things worse. While Nick was holding him now, Matt’s constant squirming made it hard to tell if the contact was helping or hurting.
Chris hesitated, taking a steadying breath before gently wrapping the towel around Matt’s shoulders. He braced himself, fully expecting Matt to push it off or protest loudly. Instead, Matt stayed restless but didn’t react negatively to the towel. Both Nick and Chris released subtle sighs of relief.
Nick adjusted the towel around Matt, making sure it covered as much as possible without constraining him, while Chris layered additional towels across the car’s passenger seat. Once everything was ready, the brothers carefully guided Matt into the car, both taking extra care to minimize the sticky, dripping paint getting anywhere else.
“Do you know who did it?” Chris asked quietly as he helped buckle Matt in. His voice was tight with suppressed anger.
Nick closed the door softly, his jaw tense. “Yeah,” he muttered curtly, avoiding eye contact. The clipped tone told Chris this wasn’t the time to press for details. He’d find out soon enough.
Once Matt was settled in the passenger seat, still repeating “Off” and trembling under the towel, Nick climbed into the back seat. Chris joined him, both boys keeping their focus on Matt, whose hands fidgeted anxiously with the edge of the towel. His stimming was quieter now, but the tension in his body remained.
“Mom’s probably going to pull him from school,” Chris murmured after a long pause, his ADHD-fueled need to speak finally winning out. His tone was resigned but tinged with sadness.
Nick sighed deeply, brushing a hand down his face. “Probably. She said last time that if anything else happened, she’d pull him. Can’t blame her.” His voice was steady but somber. “The way things are, school’s doing more harm than good for him.”
Chris frowned, his foot tapping rapidly against the car floor. “But he likes being with us. And… he’s made progress, hasn’t he? Doesn’t that count for something?” His voice was a mixture of frustration and desperation.
Nick turned to him, his expression softening. “Of course it counts, Chris. But it doesn’t outweigh all the crap he has to deal with. The bullying, the teachers who don’t get him—he doesn’t deserve any of that. None of it.” His gaze drifted back to Matt, who was now rocking slightly and picking at the paint on his hands.
The conversation halted as Marylou opened the car door and climbed into the driver’s seat. The slam of the door made Matt flinch, his voice rising sharply as he repeated “Off, off, off” with renewed urgency.
Marylou’s face immediately softened. “I’m so sorry, baby,” she said quickly, glancing over at Matt before starting the engine. “We’re going home now, sweetheart. It’s all going to be okay. We’ll get you cleaned up and feeling better soon.” Her voice was calm, but Nick and Chris could see the tension in her jaw as she reached into the back seat to hand Matt’s bag to Nick.
The car ride was mostly quiet, save for Matt’s soft stimming and the occasional murmur of reassurance from Nick or Chris. Halfway home, Chris broke the silence. “Mom?” he asked tentatively, his ADHD-driven need for answers bubbling to the surface again.
Marylou glanced at him in the rearview mirror, her brows furrowed slightly in acknowledgment.
Chris swallowed hard, glancing between his brothers before asking, “Are you really going to take Matt out of school?”
The question hung in the air for a moment. Marylou sighed, her grip tightening on the wheel. “Yes,” she said finally. “I know you don’t want that, Chris. But this isn’t about what we want. It’s about what Matt needs.” She glanced at Matt again, her expression filled with a mix of anger and sorrow. “He deserves to feel safe, supported, and happy. And if I can’t guarantee that at school, then he doesn’t belong there.”
Chris shifted uncomfortably, his foot tapping faster. “What about the stuff he actually likes about school?”
Marylou’s tone softened. “There are other ways to give him the support he needs without putting him in an environment that hurts him.”
Nick nodded, his voice quiet but firm. “She’s right, Chris. As much as I’ll miss having him with us every day, he deserves better than what this school’s giving him.”
Chris frowned but didn’t argue further, his gaze fixed on Matt, who had calmed slightly but still rocked gently in his seat. He sucked on the edge of the towel now, his hands fidgeting less than before. The sight made Chris’s heart ache, his protective instincts flaring once more.
It was clear when they got home that Matt was exhausted. The poor boy was still repeating the word “Off,” but it was much quieter and more sluggish than it had been before.
It took both Nick and Chris gently guiding him to get him moving and into their home. Once inside, Marylou and Nick led him to the bathroom, while Chris headed to Matt’s room to prepare it for a much-needed nap.
“Okay, baby, do you want to have a shower?” Marylou asked gently, giving her son a sympathetic look. But it was as if Matt didn’t hear her. He kept chewing on the corner of the towel draped over his shoulders, muttering “Off” softly but persistently.
Marylou glanced at Nick nervously, unsure of what to do. Nick sighed, half-shrugged, and crouched slightly to meet Matt’s level. “Matt? Would you like to have a bath?” he asked calmly, his voice steady and patient as he reached out to gently hold Matt’s wrist with one hand while using his other to softly caress his brother’s cheek.
Matt didn’t respond at first, his eyes fixed on the floor as he continued his quiet stimming. He did, however, make a small fist with the hand Nick was holding. Nick raised his eyebrows at the motion, nodding slightly. “You want to have a bath?” he asked again, maintaining his calm tone. This time, Matt let out a small hum and sucked harder on the corner of the towel.
Nick and Marylou exchanged relieved glances, grateful for the progress.
“Okay, Matt, you can have a bath,” Nick said softly, his voice encouraging. Marylou moved to start running the water. As the sound of the bath filled the room, Matt hummed again, this time more aggressively. The sudden change made Nick frown slightly. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he asked gently, keeping a steady grip on Matt’s wrist.
Matt didn’t respond with words but instead thrust the hand Nick was holding firmly into Nick’s chest, letting out louder, more urgent hums. Startled but composed, Nick froze momentarily, processing the gesture. It took a moment for him to realize Matt was trying to communicate something important.
“Matt, we don’t hit,” Marylou said softly, though the admonishment only seemed to irritate Matt further. He hummed louder, repeating the motion, and began poking Nick’s chest insistently with his other hand.
Just as Marylou moved to step in, Nick spoke again. “Do you want to have a bath with me?” he asked, his tone gentle but clear.
Matt paused his movements immediately, his tense frame relaxing slightly as he let out a series of softer, more contented hums. Nick smiled softly, nodding in understanding before looking back at Marylou, who appeared uncertain.
“It’s fine, Mom. He’ll need help either way, and he probably doesn’t want his mom helping him in the bath,” Nick explained gently. “I can do it—it’s not a problem.”
Marylou hesitated for a moment before sighing and nodding. “Alright,” she said, her voice tinged with worry. “I’ll grab some clean clothes and leave them outside the door. But if you need me—if either of you needs me—just call, okay?”
Nick nodded confidently before turning his full attention back to Matt, who was still chewing on the towel but visibly calmer. Marylou left the room quietly, giving her sons the space they needed.
With the bath ready, Nick reached over to gently help Matt out of his paint-covered clothes. Though sluggish and resistant at first, Matt eventually allowed his brother to undress him and guide him into the warm water with minimal fuss.
It was definitely a tight squeeze with both boys sitting in the bath, but Nick didn’t let it bother him. He sat in the water in his boxers, focused entirely on his brother, gently washing the paint off Matt’s trembling frame.
Matt hummed tiredly, his movements sluggish and uncoordinated. Nick didn’t allow himself to dwell on how awkward it might look to anyone else—two 15-year-old brothers sharing a bath, one washing the other. It wasn’t about that. Matt was coming down from an intense meltdown and needed support, both emotional and physical. That was all Nick cared about.
“There we go, all off,” Nick said softly, inspecting his work. “Feeling any better?” he asked, his voice gentle and patient.
Matt sniffled, humming quietly in response, but didn’t say anything. Instead, he slowly leaned forward, curling into Nick’s chest. Nick’s heart clenched as he immediately wrapped his arms around his younger brother, holding him tightly. Moments later, Matt’s quiet sniffling gave way to soft sobs, his face pressed against Nick’s chest. Nick sighed deeply, resting his chin on the top of Matt’s head as he cradled him.
“It’s okay, Matty,” Nick murmured. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”
He wished with everything in him that his brother didn’t have to deal with people who deliberately antagonized him. It wasn’t fair. Matt was kind, gentle, and never hurt anyone. Nick’s earlier conversation with Chris lingered in his mind—maybe pulling Matt from school really was the right choice. It wasn’t an easy decision, but at least it could mean fewer meltdowns and a less stressful environment for Matt.
The doctors had said Matt was between level one and level two on the autism spectrum. He didn’t require as much support as some, but there were still challenges he faced every day.
Matt struggled with change and had sensory sensitivities that could overwhelm him. His anxiety only added another layer of difficulty, often making it hard for him to socialize. He hated crowds and loud spaces, and school often felt like a minefield. Yet, he’d pushed through all these years, wanting to stay close to Nick and Chris.
Marylou had allowed him to continue attending school, knowing how much Matt valued that bond, but even she had started questioning if it was the right environment for him.
Unlike Nick and Chris, who were outgoing and had a natural charisma that drew people in, Matt didn’t have a large group of friends. He mostly stuck to his brothers, orbiting their social circles without fully engaging. He didn’t mind not having friends of his own—he preferred the comfort and familiarity of Nick and Chris—but that didn’t stop him from becoming a target.
High school had been especially cruel. In elementary and middle school, people left Matt alone for the most part. He wasn’t exactly popular, but he wasn’t picked on either. But in high school, things changed.
From the first day, Matt was singled out. His differences, which should have been met with understanding, were instead mocked. Nick hated it. The bullying grew worse with every passing year, escalating to incidents like today’s, where someone deliberately pushed Matt into a meltdown.
Nick couldn’t count the number of times recently that Matt had come home in tears, devastated over someone’s cruel words or actions. If he wasn’t coming home upset, Nick or Marylou were being called to the school to pick him up early or calm him down after another meltdown. It wasn’t sustainable.
As much as Nick hated the idea of Matt feeling left out by leaving school, he also hated seeing his brother in so much distress. Pulling him out might be the best thing for him. Even if Matt didn’t realize it right away, being tutored at home could be the fresh start he needed—a chance to learn in an environment that was safe, quiet, and free from bullies.
Nick worried, though, about how Matt would react to the decision. Matt didn’t like feeling different from him and Chris, and not going to school with them could make that sense of isolation worse. But Marylou wasn’t the type to back down if she thought it was what was best for Matt. Nick trusted her judgment. She’d fought for Matt every step of the way and always put his well-being first.
Nick pressed a soft kiss to the top of Matt’s head, pulling him tighter against his chest. Whatever happened next, he’d make sure Matt knew he wasn’t alone.
“Shh, it’s alright. Do you want to go lie down?” Nick asked gently, running a soothing hand up and down Matt’s back. His voice was calm and steady, hoping to comfort his brother. Matt let out a tired hum, nodding ever so slightly against Nick’s chest, but didn’t move otherwise.
Nick gave him a sad smile and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head before carefully extracting them both from the bath. He knew better than to drain the water with Matt still in the bathroom—the suction noise of the drain was too loud and always upset him. That could wait.
Nick quickly wrapped Matt in a towel and sat him carefully on the closed toilet lid. He then dried himself off and retrieved the clothes their mom had left outside the bathroom door. Once they were both dressed, Nick helped Matt to his feet and guided him toward his room.
When they stepped inside, Nick immediately noticed how calm and cozy the space was. Chris and their mom had clearly worked together to prepare it. The blinds were drawn, and the only light in the room came from Matt’s LED lights, glowing a warm, soft orange. His weighted blanket was neatly draped across the bed, and his noise-canceling headphones rested on the bedside table. A faint scent of lavender lingered in the air, likely from the calming room spray their mom or Chris had spritzed on Matt’s pillow.
Nick appreciated the effort. It wasn’t just thoughtful; it was exactly what Matt needed right now.
“Do you want to lie down, sweetheart?” Nick asked softly as they reached Matt’s bed. Matt hummed sluggishly, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned his weight against Nick. Taking that as a yes, Nick carefully guided Matt onto the bed. He tucked him in with gentle hands, his heart aching at how drained Matt seemed.
The room was cool enough to warrant a blanket, and Nick noticed how Matt instinctively curled into himself for warmth. “Do you want your weighted blanket, babe?” he asked, brushing his fingers lightly across Matt’s cheekbone.
Matt let out another soft hum, his exhaustion palpable as his eyelids drooped. Nick sighed quietly and draped the blanket over Matt, making sure it was snug and comfortable. As he stood to leave, Matt’s hand darted out to grab his wrist, accompanied by a small, plaintive whine.
Nick smirked knowingly. “You want me to lie down with you?” he asked gently.
Matt pouted faintly, his grip on Nick’s wrist tightening. He let out another soft whine, clearly wanting his brother to stay.
Nick chuckled lightly and nodded. “Okay, babe. I’ll stay with you,” he said, his voice soothing. “Just get some sleep, and you’ll feel better when you wake up.”
Climbing into the bed, Nick let Matt cling to him like a lifeline. Matt nestled his head against Nick’s chest, his breathing already slowing as he sought comfort in his brother’s presence. Nick wrapped an arm protectively around him, letting Matt use him as a pillow.
Though Nick wasn’t as exhausted as Matt, he didn’t mind staying. He pulled out his phone and quietly scrolled, replying to concerned messages from his friends. They had heard about what happened and were checking in. Nick kept his responses brief, letting them know that he was where he needed to be: home, being there for his brother.
Chris crept in about half an hour later, carefully opening the door to find Nick and Matt nestled together on the bed. He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of his older brother running his fingers gently through Matt’s hair, a comforting rhythm that seemed to keep Matt calm even in his sleep. Nick raised his eyebrows at Chris and whispered, “You can join us, but you have to be quiet.”
Chris nodded quickly, his movements soft and deliberate as he climbed into the bed. He slid onto the other side of Matt, carefully spooning him from behind. The two brothers now formed a cocoon of warmth and safety around Matt, whose soft breaths filled the otherwise silent room.
For a while, neither of them spoke. They simply let the weight of the day settle over them. Finally, Chris broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t understand why kids are so mean to him,” he murmured, tracing light circles onto Matt’s back. His words were heavy with sadness as he looked to Nick for answers.
Nick sighed, still combing his fingers through Matt’s hair. “I don’t get it either,” he admitted softly. “They’re cruel to him just because he’s a bit different. It makes me sick.”
Chris furrowed his brows, his expression a mix of confusion and anger. “But I’m different,” he pointed out quietly. “People aren’t mean to me. Why do they go after him?”
Nick shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Matt, and gave Chris a tired look. “People like you, Chris. You’re funny, outgoing, and easy to be around. People want to be your friend,” he explained gently.
Chris frowned harder, shaking his head. “But Matt’s funny too. And nice. And kind. And sweet,” he argued, his tone almost pleading, as if willing Nick to offer some better explanation.
Nick’s lips quirked into a sad smile, and he nodded. “He is. You’re right about that. But Matt’s also autistic, and kids are awful about stuff they don’t understand. They see someone who’s a little different, and instead of being kind, they pick on him. They think he’s weird or stupid. He’s not, of course. He’s one of the smartest and most amazing people I know. But kids? They don’t see that.”
Chris tightened his hold on Matt, pulling him closer as if shielding him from all the hurt he’d endured. His voice was quieter this time, almost tentative. “Do you think he’ll be upset that Mom pulled him out of school?” he asked, glancing up at Nick.
Nick sighed deeply, shifting his hand from Matt’s hair to rest on Chris’s shoulder in a half-hug. “I don’t know,” he said honestly. “On one hand, he might be relieved to get away from the bullies and the teachers who don’t understand him. But on the other hand... you know how he feels about being different from us. If we’re still going to school and he’s not, it might make him feel even more left out.”
Chris bit his lip, nodding slowly. He looked up at Nick with wide eyes, seeking reassurance. Nick gave him a small, encouraging smile. “If Mom’s serious about this—and it sounds like she is—we need to help him see that this could be a good thing. It’s our job to help him understand that this doesn’t change anything between us. He’s still our brother, and we’re still here for him.”
Chris looked doubtful. “Is it really a good thing?” he asked hesitantly, his voice laced with uncertainty.
Nick nodded, his voice firm yet gentle. “I think it is. School has always been hard for him, Chris. You’ve seen it. The noise, the smells, the bright lights, the different teachers with different rules—it’s a lot for him to handle. And the kids... they’re just plain mean to him. He doesn’t deserve any of that. At home, with a tutor, he’ll have a consistent routine, one person to learn from, and none of the distractions or cruelty. I think it could be really good for him.”
Chris frowned, his gaze drifting back to Matt’s sleeping face. “But he’s gonna hate it if we’re still going to school while he’s stuck at home,” he pointed out softly.
Nick’s expression softened, and he gave Chris’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “That’s why we’ll be there for him. We’ll help him see that it’s not about being left out—it’s about giving him what he needs to thrive. He’s still our brother, no matter where he’s learning. We’ll make sure he knows that.”
For a while, they sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Nick continued to stroke Matt’s hair, his touch gentle and soothing, while Chris stayed close, tracing faint patterns on Matt’s back. The room was quiet, save for the faint sound of Matt’s steady breathing.
After about ten minutes, Chris spoke again, his voice barely audible. “She was serious,” he whispered, breaking the stillness.
Nick quirked an eyebrow, confused. “Who?”
“Mom,” Chris clarified. “She was serious about pulling him. She was on the phone with the principal the whole time you were getting him cleaned up. She’s already looking for tutors.”
Nick let the words sink in, his jaw tightening as he processed the reality of the situation. “Oh,” he said simply, his voice heavy with emotion.
Chris nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and acceptance. Slowly, he closed his eyes and pressed closer to Matt, deciding to let sleep take him for a little while. Nick, ever the protector, stayed awake, holding both his brothers close and letting them rest.
It was a fair while later when Marylou quietly opened the door to Matt’s room. She paused, her heart swelling at the sight of her three boys cuddled up together. Matt and Chris were both sound asleep, Matt curled into Nick’s chest while Chris spooned him from behind. Nick, still awake, looked up from his phone and gave her a tired smile. His fingers absentmindedly combed through Chris’s hair as he held Matt protectively.
Marylou sat gently on the edge of Matt’s bed, her hand reaching out to softly stroke Matt’s cheek. “Lunch is ready,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as her eyes lingered on her youngest son’s peaceful face.
Nick set his phone aside and reached for her free hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “He’s okay, Mom,” he murmured, watching her expression cloud with worry.
She clutched his hand tighter and nodded, though her eyes brimmed with emotion. “I know. I just hate how much that school upsets him,” she admitted, her fingers tenderly tracing the prominent lines of Matt’s cheekbone.
Nick glanced down at Matt, his heart heavy. He didn’t say anything because he didn’t need to. They both knew the truth: this wasn’t the first time Matt had come home from school in tears, nor was it the first time Nick had been pulled from class to calm him down. But today had been particularly bad—paint deliberately poured on him? It was cruel beyond reason. Matt didn’t deserve any of it.
Marylou sighed deeply, her voice trembling. “I’ve been looking at tutors for him. I can’t let him go back there, Nick. Not anymore.”
Nick’s grip on her hand tightened as he gave her an understanding look. “I know,” he said softly. “I think it’s the right call. If we can avoid this—avoid him feeling like this—it’s worth it. School isn’t working for him anymore, and it’s not fair to make him keep suffering through it.”
A few tears slipped from her eyes, but she quickly wiped them away. Her hand returned to Matt’s face, gently brushing over his skin. “Come on,” she said after a moment, her voice soft but steady. “Lunch is getting cold, and if they sleep any longer, they’ll be up all night.”
Nick chuckled lightly, though his smile was still tinged with sadness. “Alright,” he said, turning to gently nudge Chris awake. “Time to get up.”
Chris groaned, barely cracking open an eye. “Mm, fuck off, Nick, I’m tired,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket tighter around himself.
Nick smirked and shook him a little harder. “You’ve been asleep for two hours, and Mom has lunch ready,” he said, his tone teasing but patient.
At that, Chris perked up slightly, blinking sleepily. When he noticed their mom sitting nearby, his face flushed. “Oh, uh... sorry, Mom,” he mumbled, clearly embarrassed she’d heard him curse.
Marylou shot him a mildly unimpressed look but said nothing, her focus shifting back to Matt. She leaned in closer, her voice soft as she gently nudged his shoulder. “Matt, baby? It’s time to wake up for some lunch.”
Matt groaned unhappily, burrowing further into Nick’s chest as if willing the world to leave him alone. Nick chuckled, stroking Matt’s hair in slow, soothing motions. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured. “Are you hungry? Mom’s got lunch ready for us.”
Slowly, Matt peeked his head out, his eyes half-lidded with grogginess. He didn’t say anything, only humming softly as his hand rested on Nick’s chest, tapping out a rhythm with his fingers. Marylou glanced at Nick, her worry deepening, but Nick gave her a reassuring nod.
“We’ll be down in a minute,” he told her gently.
Marylou hesitated, clearly torn, but eventually stood. “Alright. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” she said, giving Matt’s cheek one last affectionate stroke before leaving the room.
Nick let out a small sigh, carefully shifting into a seated position. The movement caused Matt to hum louder, his discomfort evident. “I know you’re tired, but let’s go eat. After lunch, you can do whatever you want, okay?” Nick said softly, standing and extending a hand to his brother.
Matt didn’t respond. His fingers moved to his mouth, and he began to chew on them absently. Nick frowned, quickly moving to Matt’s desk to grab one of his chewy necklaces. He returned and slipped it over Matt’s head, gently guiding the silicone piece to Matt’s mouth. “Here,” he said with a small smile. “This is better than chewing on your fingers.”
Matt hummed again, his chewing shifting to the toy as his hand reached out for Nick’s. Nick gladly took it, pulling Matt into a standing position. “Come on,” he said warmly. “Let’s go get some food.”
Keeping a firm but gentle hold on Matt’s hand, Nick led him out of the room and down the stairs. The walk was slow, Matt’s lethargy evident, but Nick stayed patient, offering quiet words of encouragement as they made their way to the kitchen.
When they got to the kitchen, Chris was already sitting at the island bench, casually munching on a bowl of mac and cheese. He glanced up as Nick and Matt walked in, his expression softening at the sight of his brothers.
Marylou beamed when she saw them and quickly pulled out the stool Matt always sat on. “You hungry, baby?” she asked sweetly, stepping aside so Nick could get Matt settled. Nick eased Matt onto the stool and sat down beside him, still holding his hands. Matt didn’t look at her, his gaze fixed downward at their joined hands. But he let out a faint hum, just loud enough for her to hear.
Marylou glanced at Nick expectantly. When Nick only gave her a small shrug, she sighed and nodded, turning back toward the stove where the mac and cheese was keeping warm. “You hungry?” she asked Nick tiredly as she dished out two bowls of food.
Nick gave her a soft smile, his fingers continuing to trace comforting patterns on the back of Matt’s hands. “Yeah,” he replied quietly. Marylou nodded and brought two bowls over to them, her eyes silently pleading with Matt to eat something. Nick murmured his thanks and gently let go of one of Matt’s hands to pick up his fork.
But the moment he did, Matt let out an agitated whine, immediately reaching out to grab Nick’s hand again. His grip was firm, almost desperate, and Nick froze for a moment before taking a deep breath to center himself. Losing patience wouldn’t help anyone, least of all Matt.
“It’s okay, Matt,” Nick reassured him softly, his voice calm and steady. “I’m not going anywhere. I just need to eat some lunch, and then we can go back to cuddling if you want.” He tried to gently free one of his hands again, but Matt only whined louder, gripping him tighter and beginning to rock slightly in his seat.
Nick sighed, his heart aching for his brother. “Matt, sweetheart,” he tried again patiently. “I’m right here. I just want to eat a little. Don’t you want to eat something too?”
Matt didn’t answer. His gaze stayed fixed on their hands as he began to hum again, louder now, his body rocking more rhythmically. Marylou stepped closer, her hand brushing lightly across Matt’s back. “He’s not going anywhere, baby,” she cooed gently. “You can still hold his hand while he eats. Do you want some help eating, sweetheart?” Her voice was as kind as her expression was concerned.
Matt let out another loud whine and rapidly shook his head, refusing to let go of Nick. Marylou tried to carefully pry Matt’s hands into her own to free Nick’s, but the moment she did, Matt let out an ear-piercing scream and lunged back toward Nick, grabbing him possessively. Nick closed his eyes, exhaling deeply as he tried to keep his composure.
Chris, who had been silently watching, stood and walked around the island bench, his expression serious but calm. “Matt? Would you like to hold my hand while Nick eats? You can have him back right after he’s finished, I promise,” he offered softly, his tone soothing.
Matt groaned lowly, his rocking intensifying, but his hands trembled slightly as he clung to Nick. Nick gave Chris a questioning glance, and Chris nodded slightly before carefully reaching for one of Matt’s hands. It was slow, deliberate work, but he managed to take Matt’s hand without a meltdown. Though Matt’s humming grew louder and his rocking more pronounced, he didn’t pull away from Chris.
Nick gave Chris a look of gratitude as Chris sat on Matt’s other side, still holding his hand gently. “Hurry up and eat,” Chris mouthed silently, his eyes flicking toward Nick’s bowl.
Chris turned his attention back to Matt, keeping his voice soft. “Do you want to eat, Matt?” he asked, gesturing to the untouched bowl of mac and cheese in front of him. Matt whined again, his knee bouncing rapidly under the table.
Chris offered a reassuring squeeze to Matt’s hand before scooping some pasta onto Matt’s fork. He hesitated for a beat before slowly bringing it to Matt’s lips.
It took several tense moments, but Matt finally opened his mouth and accepted the bite. Both Nick and Marylou visibly relaxed, their relief palpable. Chris continued feeding Matt patiently, his movements steady and calm, while Nick quietly returned to eating his own meal.
Marylou stepped behind Chris and pressed a kiss to the back of his head, her hands resting gently on his shoulders. Her heart swelled with gratitude for her sons, who never hesitated to step up and care for Matt when he needed them most.
“You’re amazing,” she whispered softly, her voice filled with emotion. Chris didn’t look up, but his lips curved into a small smile as he continued feeding Matt another bite.
Marylou knew it wasn’t always easy for them. Matt’s unique needs often required more of his parents' attention than his brothers, and while that had caused frustration when they were younger, it wasn’t the case anymore.
As Nick and Chris grew older and more aware of Matt’s challenges, they came to understand that their parents weren’t playing favorites—they were just doing their best to care for him.
Matt’s bond with his brothers had always been unshakable, stronger than most sibling connections. The three of them were like peas in a pod, and neither Matt’s autism nor Chris’s ADHD had ever changed that.
Sure, there were moments when Chris and Matt would unintentionally set each other off, their differing ways of processing the world clashing momentarily. But those instances were rare.
For the most part, Nick and Chris were Matt’s best—if not only—friends, and Marylou often believed that was why they were so adept at helping him when he had a meltdown or just wasn’t feeling like himself.
Among the two, it was no secret that Nick was Matt’s person. When Matt was having a bad day or spiraling into an anxiety attack, Nick was always the first one there, and more often than not, the only one who could fully bring him back.
That wasn’t to say Chris wasn’t a significant help—Matt adored Chris just as much as he did Nick—but there was something about the eldest triplet that grounded Matt in a way no one else could.
Like now, for example. While Chris and their mom were doing everything they could to comfort Matt, it was Nick’s presence that truly soothed him. He clung to Nick like a baby koala, seeking reassurance in his brother’s steady voice and touch.
And Nick? He embraced the role wholeheartedly. He knew Matt’s attachment to him bordered on obsessive at times, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. If anything, he felt honored to be the person Matt needed most.
Sure, it meant occasionally eating cold pasta because Matt wouldn’t let go of his hand, or waking up drenched in drool because Matt had fallen asleep on his chest. But Nick wouldn’t change a thing.
Matt’s dependence on him wasn’t constant, though. On Matt’s good days, when he wasn’t overstimulated or anxious, he and Nick could bicker like any siblings would. If anything, their squabbles were more frequent than the ones Matt had with Chris.
The arguments were always petty—about whose turn it was to take out the trash, or whose hoodie Matt had “borrowed” without asking—and they never lasted long. More often than not, Nick found himself laughing about it moments later.
Even after a full day of bickering, it was inevitable that Matt would crawl into Nick’s bed late at night, demanding cuddles. Nick always obliged, no matter how tired he was. The bond they shared wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs, and Nick cherished every bit of it.
Once Nick had finished eating, he reached over and gently took Matt’s hand from Chris, giving it a reassuring squeeze before pressing a soft kiss to the side of Matt’s head. Chris smirked at the gesture and finished feeding Matt the rest of his pasta, all the while platonically rubbing his hand over Matt’s bouncing knee to help ground him.
Marylou, standing by the sink, watched her three boys with a small, reflective smile. When she first found out she was having triplets, she never imagined the pregnancy would be successful. The risks had been overwhelming. So, when three healthy babies entered the world, she couldn’t believe her luck or the blessing she had been given.
The idea of raising three more children wasn’t something she and Jimmy had exactly planned for, especially since they already had Justin, who was seven at the time. But the moment the triplets came into their lives, she felt nothing but love and gratitude for them. That love only deepened as they grew.
However, when Matt was diagnosed with autism and Chris with ADHD, Marylou couldn’t lie—she worried. Not because she loved them any less, but because she didn’t know what their diagnoses would mean for their futures.
There wasn’t a parenting book, blog, or forum she hadn’t poured over in her quest to be the best mother she could for them. But as she quickly learned, neurodivergence is a spectrum. What worked for one child might not work for another, and she realized that no book could fully prepare her for raising her unique boys.
Parenting the triplets had been a learn-on-the-job experience, with plenty of trial and error. Most days, their family was like any other—a chaotic, loving six-person household. But on the harder days, when Matt or Chris struggled, Marylou sometimes felt helpless.
Not because she lacked the ability to care for them—she was everything a mother should be: compassionate, loving, understanding, and accepting. But no amount of preparation could eliminate the ache of seeing one of her boys upset and not knowing how to fix it.
That was where Nick and Chris—or Nick and Matt, depending on the situation—came in. They might deny it until the end of time, but Marylou was convinced her triplets had some form of unspoken connection, a kind of innate understanding of each other’s needs that no one else could quite grasp.
Nick and Chris always knew how to handle Matt when he was overstimulated or upset, just as Nick and Matt had an almost instinctive sense of what Chris needed on his harder days. And, of course, when Nick wasn’t feeling like himself, Matt and Chris would band together to cheer him up without hesitation.
Watching her boys interact reminded Marylou of just how strong their bond was. She often felt guilty leaving them to sort things out among themselves, worried that she might be shirking her responsibilities as a mother.
But she had come to realize that, more often than not, stepping back was the best thing she could do. Their bond wasn’t just strong—it was unshakable. They knew how to support each other in ways that even she, as their mother, couldn’t always provide.
For that, she was endlessly grateful. Whatever challenges their family faced, she knew they would always face them together.
“You finished, Matt?” Nick asked softly when Matt whined and turned his face away from Chris, who had been trying to feed him the last bite of mac and cheese.
Matt began humming and rocking himself back and forth again, gripping Nick’s hands tightly but avoiding eye contact. Nick gave him a fond smile and nodded. “Alright then. Wanna go back upstairs?” he suggested patiently, smirking over at Chris as the youngest brother tried—and failed—to wipe Matt’s face. Matt grumbled moodily but didn’t pull away, much to Chris’s amusement.
“Alright, well, I’m gonna go play Fort. You wanna come?” Chris offered casually, gesturing toward his room upstairs. Matt hummed louder and started bouncing his knee more intensely at Chris’s words, which made both brothers smirk.
“You wanna watch Chris play Fort?” Nick guessed, smiling warmly when Matt hummed and reached over to fist the front of Chris’s shirt, all while keeping a firm hold on Nick’s hand. Chris chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he stood up. “Come on, then. You can watch me get a victory royale,” he said cockily, earning an eye roll from Nick.
After thanking their mom for lunch, Nick and Chris guided Matt back upstairs and into Chris’s room. Chris had a small couch set up in front of his TV where he did all his gaming.
Nick gently plopped Matt down in the middle seat before joining him. The moment Nick sat down, Matt curled into him and began chewing on his fingers. Nick, ever patient, pressed a soft kiss to the top of Matt’s head before pulling his fingers out of his mouth and holding up his chewelry.
“Don’t chew on your fingers, Bud,” Nick said gently, guiding the chewy back to Matt’s mouth.
Just as Chris was halfway between standing and sitting, he paused and looked over at Matt. “You want your headphones, Matt? I’ll probably yell a lot,” he reminded him unapologetically.
Matt continued chewing on his chewy, giving Chris a vague glance but nothing more. Chris glanced over Matt’s head at Nick for guidance, and Nick ran his fingers soothingly through Matt’s hair before half shrugging. Matt hadn’t been upset by noise so far today, so Nick figured he’d probably be okay. “I think he’s fine for now,” Nick murmured, pulling Matt closer.
Chris nodded, sat down, and geared up to play Fortnite for the rest of the afternoon. The gaming session worked wonders for all three brothers.
Matt had calmed significantly since his meltdown earlier, and even though he was still non-verbal, he wasn’t stimming as much—a clear sign he was feeling better. He stayed snuggled against Nick the entire time, quietly chewing on his chewelry.
Chris yelled plenty during his matches, just as he’d predicted, but instead of bothering Matt, it seemed to amuse him. Whenever Chris shouted a clever insult or celebrated a kill, Matt let out soft, excited hums and even a few giggles, which made both his brothers smile.
Nick had to leave briefly to use the bathroom, and for the first time all day, Matt didn’t protest. He stayed nestled on the couch, leaning into Chris slightly as he watched the younger boy dominate the game.
“Dude,” Chris whispered to Nick when he returned, a proud grin lighting up his face. “He didn’t even fuss while you were gone.”
Nick’s smile was equally wide as he nodded, reaching over to pull Matt into his arms again. “Yeah, he’s doing better. Definitely not back to normal yet, but better,” he said softly, gently squeezing Matt’s shoulder.
For the rest of the afternoon, they stayed in Chris’s room, gaming and enjoying each other’s company. It wasn’t a perfect day, but seeing Matt more at ease reminded them all that, no matter what, they had each other—and that was what mattered most.
At the end of the night, after dinner and a round of Jimmy fussing over Matt—something Matt tolerated with quiet hums and the occasional small smile—all three boys made their way into Matt’s room to settle in for the night. The exhaustion of the day weighed on all of them, and none of them wanted to leave Matt alone.
Nick climbed into bed first, settling in against the pillows and holding his arms open for Matt. Without hesitation, Matt curled into Nick’s chest, nuzzling close and letting out a soft, content hum. Chris climbed in right after, spooning Matt from behind and draping an arm protectively over his waist.
The room was quiet except for the soothing hum of Matt’s LED lights, which cast a soft, warm glow over the space. Nick gently ran his fingers through Matt’s hair, the rhythmic motion lulling his brother into a state of calm, while Chris lightly caressed Matt’s back in slow, soothing circles.
Neither of them spoke much, the weight of the day still fresh in their minds. The thought of telling Matt that their mom had officially pulled him from school was a task for another time. Right now, their only focus was making sure Matt felt safe and loved.
As Matt’s breathing evened out and his humming grew softer, Nick pressed a kiss to the top of his head and whispered, “We love you, Matty. Always.” Chris echoed the sentiment, murmuring a quiet, “Yeah, love you, man,” before resting his forehead against the back of Matt’s head.
The three of them stayed that way, holding each other close, a quiet reminder that no matter what challenges came their way, they would always have each other.