Chapter Text
Reki knew he was going home tomorrow but he didn’t fully comprehend it. His mind was hazy, his body still a bit numb, and he felt nothing when the faceless woman talked. Her voice was cheery and happy as she told him, “They’re flying you first class! Aren’t you excited?”
Laying on his side on a bed, Reki hunched further into himself, hugging the blanket that had been his constant companion to himself, he tried to focus on her. “Home?”
“Yes!” Her lips quirked into a smile.
“Which one?” Reki murmured.
“To your family.”
He was still confused. His body told him his home was with the alpha that betrayed him, but as he blinked at her and squinted at her smile, he thought of his childhood home with his parents and sisters.
“With who?”
Her smile fell a little but she reached out to pet his hair. He flinched away and she stopped. “Your mom and dad and your three sisters,” she told him softly.
“But they sold me,” Reki said with a frown, burying his face back into his blanket.
“They didn’t. I promise you they didn’t, Reki,” she said, as if she told this to him a thousand times before.
She could’ve but Reki probably didn’t remember it. For a terribly long time, all Reki knew was pain, inside and out, both physical and mental. His body wouldn’t let him move or speak. For so long, he just stared at nothing, in this bed, taking in nothing and he hadn’t really been there at all. There were times he wished he would fade into nothing already.
But then this lady, who Reki still didn’t know, appeared one day and didn’t leave him alone, not until he begged her audibly one day to go away. She smiled that day.
He’d gotten used to her presence, but he didn’t trust her right now. So instead of acknowledging her words, he asked, “When do I go home?”
“Tomorrow,” she said. “But only if you get out of bed and walk with me.”
“I can do that?” Reki asked, sliding the blanket down.
“Yes, Reki, you can. You’ve done it two weeks straight now.” Her smile was full again.
“I have?”
“Yes, and you always feel better walking.”
“How do you know?”
She chuckled, as if it was obvious. Maybe it was; nothing was clear to Reki right now. “Because I’ve spent a lot of time with you.”
“I have,” Reki confirmed, because he remembered her smile.
“You have,” she repeated back. “Alright, up and at ‘em.” She reached over and pulled the blanket aside.
Reki uncurled, his body aching but less so then he remembered, and he slowly got his feet under him. She held a hand out to him and Reki only looked at it with distaste. “I can do it myself.”
She looked surprise at that, pulling her hand back.
Reki shakily pushed himself to standing and it felt as if the world tilted on its axis. He looked around the room, finally see it for the first time, or he thought he was. It was bare, like all of his rooms when he lived with Adam, and the bed was like the one’s in the nurse’s office at school: bare besides the thin blanket, sterile white. “Is Adam here?” Reki asked. Because Adam had always arranged for a bare room for him and he wasn’t allowed to decorate, so it would make sense why it looked like this. Besides, Adam had made him drop before, when he first kidnapped Reki, when he first tried to mate him. This time, it felt even worse. Adam was probably mad.
Her expression turned sad. “Do you remember what happened, Reki? Think hard about what happened.”
Standing and staring blankly, he allowed his eyes to fall away from her as he tried to remember. What happened? He knew he knew but it was far away, behind the fog. His head throbbed as it came to him: Woods, alpha, mating bond, snow, Langa.
“Langa!” he gasped. He blinked several times, turning to look at her for confirmation.
She grinned at him. “There you are, Reki,” she said, greeting him as if she just found him.
Reki looked over her green eyes, pale complexion and chestnut brown hair, finally taking her in and he realized she looked familiar. “I know you.”
“You do.”
“Oh.” He looked at the open door to his room. “I’m safe?”
“Yes.”
“Langa saved me.”
“He did.”
“And I’m going home to Japan?”
“You are.”
Tears flooded his eyes and he didn’t know why, but he reached up to wipe them away with the sleeve of his sweatshirt. He gasped when he didn’t find his sweatshirt but his bare, heavily-scarred arms out for just anyone to see. They were gruesome, raised and red, but for once, there wasn’t a fresh wound in sight. He reached up and touched his neck. It was rough and ragged, but it wasn’t open or bleeding. “Where’s my sweatshirt?”
“It’s in a safe place. You’ll get it when you leave.”
“Why don’t I have it?”
“You remember better when you see your scars.” She paused, tilting her head. “Do you remember?”
Reki could see the years of torturous existence with Adam behind his eyes. He got a glimpse of Langa, of his friends, then more distantly, of his family. “Yes, I do. But I don’t remember this place.”
“I know you don’t, but you’ll remember more as we walk. Shall we?” She offered her arm for him to take. His instinct was not to touch, but something familiar about the crook of her arm told him it was safe. He lightly set the pads of his fingers on her nurse’s sleeve, and let her guide him out.
As they walked, other staff greeted him, and they clearly knew him. He could hazily remember seeing them before. Even other patients greeted Reki. When he breathed in, he realized it was only omegas and betas here.
“How long have I been here?”
“Almost four months.”
“Shit,” he breathed. “And I’m still in Canada?”
“Yes, but tomorrow you will get a plane home.”
“Did Langa visit me? Or my family?”
“No, no one was allowed, especially alphas.”
Reki squeezed her arm unintentionally harder. “But why?”
“Because,” she started, looking wistful, “It would have been hard for you.”
Reki remembered what he felt like, even though he didn’t remember the days. “Because I was in pain.”
“You’re right,” she agreed. She steered him to a door and pushed it open.
Reki was blinded by the light, blinking and pulling away from her to shield his eyes. When he had time to adjust, he realized what this was. Outside. He was outside and it was fresh and warm. The sun felt good on his skin.
With the fresh air came clarity, finally able to process the information she gave him, even if he still felt hazy and his head still hurt. “I’m really going home?”
“Yes, tomorrow, and your family is so excited to see you! I’m happy for you, Reki, but I will really miss you.”
Reki felt compelled to tell her, “Thank you. For helping me, I mean.”
“It was the least I could do,” she said, smiling again. He stared it, trying to memorize her smile.
The plane ride was long and boring. Reki didn’t know any of the people around him and didn’t trust any of them, so he ended up just curling into seat, blanket around him, and he stared hazily until time went faster.
He blinked to reality when someone took the blanket from him and touched him. He flinched away, but he heard the request to stand. “You’re almost home,” someone said.
“Home,” Reki murmured, blinking and trying to focus on his surroundings as they led him from the plane. They crossed a small airport and then, as the evening air hit him, he was more aware than ever. He didn’t like it, though, because it had been forever since he smelled alphas, and out here he smelled everything: omegas, betas, alphas. Everything.
Then there was a flash of light and Reki looked towards it, flinching away and scared. There was a crowd of people standing with cameras. Why did they want his picture? He turned slightly away as the flashing continued. Oh, because he’d been kidnapped. Were these reporters?
His thoughts were starting to come clearer now that he left the hospital but it still didn’t make total sense to him. But who else could they be? Well, he was glad he was wearing a sweatshirt today.
“Reki!” a voice called.
He didn’t immediately recognize the voice, but he turned towards it anyway. What he saw was his sister, years older than he remembered her, running towards him with two little girls close behind. “Reki!” she screamed.
The flashing cameras came faster but Reki didn’t notice, because this was his sister and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until she was right there. She threw her arms open and Reki instinctually caught her. She fit against him better than in his memories and he ended up squeezing her desperately, as if he’d get dragged away again.
“Koyomi,” he murmured against her. She was only a few inches shorter than him now. How was that possible?
Two little bodies hit his legs and wrapped around them. He pulled away from Koyomi, startled, and he found the two girls, his littlest sisters, pressed against his knees with wide eyes and awed expressions. “You’re Reki!” one of them said. Reki didn’t know which one was which.
“And you’re Nanaka and Chihiro,” Reki said, not meaning for it to come out so unsure, but their names were almost foreign to him. He only remembered them as babies, barely anything to him. Looking at them now, they looked cute with big eyes and easily up to his thigh. They tugged on him as if they knew him.
“You’re our brother! Koyomi said so.”
“Yeah,” Reki said, feeling distant again as he realized how much time had passed. He didn’t know these girls, not in the slightest. Koyomi felt the most familiar.
But then, when he turned and met his mother’s eyes, he startled, not expecting to see her. She and Dad were walking slowly towards him with hopeful but guilty expressions, as if they didn’t know how to interact with him anymore.
That was okay, because he didn’t know what to do either. He didn’t know if they sold him or if they ever tried to find him, but he looked at them cautiously, searching for the answers in their uneasy expressions. “Reki,” Mom said, her voice breaking in his name.
Reki fiddled with his sweatshirt sleeve, looking away and down. Did they look down on him for being away for so long? Did they wish he stayed gone? Were they disappointed in him for not being smarter or stronger? Did they think him broken because of what Adam did to him?
Reki swallowed thickly, not sure how to start, but he felt the need to say to the floor, “I’m sorry.” It was whispered, sad.
There was nothing, no one said anything. Reki wondered if he were disappearing into his mind again, so he looked up to see if they heard him, if he even spoke aloud. Mom was looking at him with swimming eyes, her expression stricken. “Oh, Reki,” she gasped, reaching over to him and gathering him into an all-encompassing hug, not noticing when Reki flinched against her. “I’m glad you’re home.”
The camera flashes picked up again, even more so when Dad joined the hug and then his sisters. Reki was frozen in the center, tense and uneasy. He wondered if this was all for the cameras. He wondered if he would be sold again, cast off when the reporters turned away. Or would they hurt him?
He could smell his own distress in the air and Mom just hugged him tighter. “I missed you, so much.” She pressed a kiss to his temple and Reki sucked in a surprised breath. “My baby boy, I missed you.” She shook against Reki and he realized, oh she’s crying.
“I missed you, too,” Reki said, because it was true. To him, he’d ached bone deep for his family, even when he tried not to think about them. Even now, even as awkward as it felt right now, he was happy to see them.
“Let’s go home,” she told him, leaning back to gaze at him but not letting go.
“Home,” Reki repeated because it still was a hazy place for him. It didn’t feel real at all but he wanted to be in a safe place, so he agreed, “I want to go home.”