bambi eyes || tradley

23. no place like home

"This is where it happened," he whispered, sinking down onto the grass. Tristan slowly sat down beside him, eyeing his boyfriend with furrowed brows. "A car hit me, and I-I fell. When an ambulance came to get me, I was strapped to a stretcher, but I did not understand why I was, because the car had not actually hit me, it hit my bike. And my left wrist"-he brushed his fingertips over the joint-"it hurt when I fell, and I tried to tell this man that, but he interrupted me. He told me they would take good care of me. He looked like you."

"What?"

"I never went to the hospital," Brad told him, tears streaming down his face. "I went to a lab. So many strangers and doctors ran different tests on me. They were so nice until you wanted them to stop. Everyone was so nice unless you wanted to be treated like a human being. They would hurt me for being disobedient. I was only five. I was confused and I was scared. I did not know if I would ever see my mum and dad again and my sister again. I did not know anything."

The English language was suddenly swiped from Tristan's mind. He had no idea what he was supposed to tell him to make it better. He hadn't expected that memory to return to him - out of all memories. He didn't even know the government basically taken him into custody near his house. He'd always imagined it somewhere far off, away from his family members. He sucked in a breath, realising he couldn't crumble in front of him. Even though it was rather difficult. "But you can see your family now," Tristan reassured him. "They are at the house, and your mum, she misses you so much. She will be happy to see you."

He slowly turned to him, like everything he said went in one ear and out the other. "He did not exactly look like you, Tris," he softly realised, eyelids fluttering closed, like he was trying to return to the flashback. "He had your eyes. Why is that?"

"That's a mystery, Bambi." He wrapped an arm around him, pulling the small boy into his chest. "But we can always think about that later. Right now, I don't want you to worry about the past. Your family is waiting for you in that house. They've lived for fifteen years thinking that you're dead, and they miss you a lot."

"I miss them, too," Bambi realised. He wiped his wet face on the back of his hand. "But I am so different. They will not know me."

"There's a lot of time for them to get to," Tristan told him. He pulled himself onto his feet and extended his arm down to the curly-haired boy. Reluctantly, Brad took his hand and allowed his boyfriend to help him up. With a deep breath, he interlaced their hands once again, slowly making his way back to the house.

. . .

"You knock," Brad instructed, latching onto Tristan's arm. The twenty-one-year-old thought it was cute how shy he could get, but suddenly, he was so nervous for his boyfriend. He was just shot back into a place that started it all. He was most likely shaken up, and now he was facing his parents after fifteen years. But Tristan knew this would make it better. They most likely missed their son and brother, and they most likely wanted to meet the new him.

The dark-haired boy balled a hand into a fist, knocking it against the wooden door. He positioned the small boy in front of the peephole so that they'd see him and not Tristan who his mum ran off a few days ago. The blue-eyed boy sucked in a breath as the doorknob turned, and the door pushed open, unexpectedly revealing a man instead. Tristan unlinked Brad and his fingers, stepping back so that the two would be able to have their moment.

"Hello, Dad," the curly-haired boy quietly greeted.

"Bradley?" he questioned.

"Yes"-he gave him a small smile, pocketing his hands-"it is me."

The dark-haired boy smiled to himself and quietly made his way back down the gravel pathway as the small boy was engulfed in a hug. He felt a small pang of jealousy knowing that he'd never be able to experience that kind of love again. The parents he thought he grew up with were all a lie. For five years he'd been under the illusion that he had two people in his life that cared about him and loved him. Now it was like he had no one except Bambi, and that was enough, but...

He leaned against Connor's vehicle nibbling his lip as Brad's mother came through the door, automatically pulling her son into a hug. Tristan smiled. He was happy he was able to make others happy. Even though he was so sad, he was happy for Bambi. He had the chance to finally meet his parents after fifteen years when Tristan knew his for sixteen; although, he didn't remember them. But he did like the fact he had a chance to meet his biological mum. It bothered him when she said it was too dangerous  for them to keep in contact, but he assumed it was better than not having the chance to meet his mother at all.

"Tris!" He tuned back into life once he realised the curly-haired boy was running to him. His footsteps came to a halt in front of his boyfriend, Brad's beautiful face glowing with happiness as he smiled widely up at him. "I want you to meet my family!"

"Eh, this isn't really my scene," Tristan told him with a small smile.

The smaller boy frowned. "What do you mean, Tris?"

"This is your family." He gripped him by the shoulders. "Go back out there and I'll be waiting for you in the car."

"But you are a part of my family, Tris." A frown made its way on his face. "I love you. Please meet my family. They want to get to know you, and I want them to get to know you, too."

"Okay," the dark-haired boy reluctantly agreed. They made their way back down the gravel pathway, Bambi babbling all about the new things he learned about them in such a short period of time. He softly smiled down at the younger boy, wrapping an arm around him as they neared the door and Bambi threw it open like he'd been living there for years.

"Mum! Dad!" the curly-haired boy shouted, even though they were seated on the couch alongside another woman who Tristan assumed to be his sister. "This is my Tristan. He is lovely, is he not?"

"Hi," he quietly greeted them, waving a stiff hand at his boyfriend's family.

"We've met," his mother said to him. "I'm sorry about our encounter."

"I understand." Tristan smiled. "I most likely would've reacted the same way if I were ever put in your situation."

She nodded. "Well, what are you two doing? Sit!"

"Do you want anything to drink?" Brad's sister questioned as the dark-haired boy plopped down onto a recliner. Brad sat on his lap, even though there was an unoccupied chair available for him.

"'m fine," Tristan replied whilst Brad automatically said: "If you have strawberry milk."

"I will remember to buy that next time," his dad told the two boys. Bambi pouted, but he quickly replaced it with a wide smile.

"What are you going to do now?" his mum asked the small boy. He stared at her blankly. "Are you planning on moving back in?"

"I am currently living with Tristan," the  curly-haired boy answered. He looked at his silent boyfriend and smiled. "So, I do not think that will be possible, and I have a lot of unfinished business right now."

The three seemed upset to hear this before Tristan chimed into the conversation: "But I'll make sure he visits as much as he can."

Bambi smiled and nodded. "Yes, I will visit." He looked at Tristan again. "I am beginning to find some type of life of my own, yes?"

Tristan nodded, smiling softly back at him. "Mm-hmm."

They ended up leaving two hours later, Brad attached to his boyfriend's arm as the couple made their way back to Connor's vehicle parked in the middle of the gravel pathway. Tristan realised he liked Bambi's family a lot, which worked well. If they were going to continue with this... romantic relationship, Tristan would've preferred the younger boy's parents liking him. Now no matter what they always had somewhere to go, and the curly-haired boy no longer had to worry about who his family was, or where he came from. He was so happy, too. Tristan could just tell how he walked with a little bounce in his step. Tristan was a little surprised he wasn't full on skipping down the pathway.

Bambi suddenly stopped his footsteps on the short journey. Tristan automatically paused along with him, expecting the younger boy to be hit with another memory. But instead, he buried his face into the tall boy's chest, snaking two arms around his waist and gently squeezing him. "Thank you," he said, voice muffled by Tristan's shirt. He looked up at his boyfriend with glossy eyes. "Thank you so much, Tris."

The blue-eyed man smiled to himself as the shorter boy's face was buried back in his shirt, and Tristan tightly held him to his chest, a large ball of happiness bouncing inside of him.