"Ghost, Skells... we gotta talk."

They're mad at you. They make it obvious in the family meeting, and for Ma's sake you bite your tongue and say nothing- but as soon as she walks away you call them over, your expression and tone of voice soft, but unwilling to take no for an answer. Or you try for that, anyway - realistically you're more uncertain, softly pleading, but definitely possessing of some amount of older-brother-authority. And love, lots of love. The question is, will they recognize it, or are they too wrapped up in each other to realize how much you care?

You know you messed up, telling Tae that lie, but to be honest, you don't regret it. The relief on your baby sister's face was enough to make up for the inevitable frustration when she learned the truth, and the relief you felt when Grusha came home, well... let's just say their anger was acceptable, because at least they were there to be angry. What you do regret is not cornering them earlier, not talking to them and explaining what you were trying to do, telling them you loved them and that you were there for them, no matter what. You'd been busy, to be fair, but that does little to ease your guilt now.

Except that your guilt, it doesn't matter. Only your sisters, and their happiness, do. They're here now, and so are you, and you're family - that's what matters. Da is dead, and Ma is too preoccupied to be much help, so it's you and them and Sparky. There's no making up for the time you missed, the things you said and didn't say. There's only moving forward, trying to heal the emotional and physical scars that cover your family.

You look at Tae and Grusha - the latter, nearly as tall as you - and you do not sigh; nor do you smile. Your expression is level, sincere, your sunbeam eyes dimmed as you regard them and try to find the proper words. "I know you're mad," you begin, "An' I understand. There's a lot to be mad about right now." As if on cue, the scar on your left fore spasms; you flinch. "But we can't just be mad at each other forever. Tae, I'm sorry I lied to you. I didn' want you to worry more than you already did. Grusha-" you turn to the taller twin, and the slightest smile of relief passes over your face as you reach out, instinctive, to press your nose against hers, "-I'm just glad you're home. I looked for you an' Ma, an' I heard you were lookin' for her, too. That was very brave. "

You straighten, still eyeing them carefully. The wolves which flank them make you uneasy and aware; They could kill me flashes through your mind, but it's a thought you quickly push away, swallowing tightly as fear bubbles in your throat. You want nothing more than to run away, or cry, or beg your sisters for forgiveness. You want to be mad, too - mad about Gaucho, mad about Ma, mad about yourself, mad at them for being mad at you. But you don't get mad. That wouldn't fix anything, and besides, you love your sisters. You want to fix them, not break them further.

Being a grown-up is hard.

"If you still wanna be mad at me, that's okay. But you're growin' up fast, an' I won't lie to you anymore. Ma, she... she's not the same, an' we gotta be strong for her. She's... sad. I need to know that if I can't be here, if something happens to me, you guys'll look after he an' Sparky. An' after each other." You're painfully aware of your fresh, pink wounds, of your still uneven left hind. If you'd died, what would've happened to them? The idea that you might die with them hating you brings a horrible lump to your chest.

You swallow, again.

"I love you guys forever, okay? No matter what."