Trey’s POV

It was about a month into the sickness when Trey realized he loved her.

Bones was kneeling next to a filthy mattress as she healed one of the Rusters, a man named Abe who had been shocked speechless to see her come through his door. It was the same expression he’d seen on nearly all the Ruster’s faces when Bones stepped into their homes. The last sickness that’d swept through the hold had hit them the hardest, and to his knowledge, their previous healer hadn’t set foot in the slums even once. Despite their shock, none of the Rusters bothered asking if Madame sent Bones to heal them. They knew the answer. Bones was here because she couldn’t not be here, and she was healing their spirits along with their bodies. He’d never seen anything spark hope in the people’s eyes like Bones’ fierce devotion.

He just wished she could see it too.

Bones’ hands were trembling visibly as she held onto Abe’s arm. Abe had placed his free hand over hers a few minutes ago, looking concerned. Trey made eye contact with Sam who was watching on the other side of the bed, and Sam touched his nose, his mouth pressed in a flat line. They’d learned to recognize the signs of Bones nearing burnout, and Trey pulled out his handkerchief, waiting.

Seconds later, Bones turned her head and looked up at him and sure enough, blood was running from her nose and over her lips, the bright red color a startling contrast to her pale face. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed in dark circles. She looked fucking exhausted. 

“Got it,” he forced himself to say with a smile, crouching down beside her. 

It was still early, not even midday. Every day she neared burnout earlier and earlier. The sickness appeared to be tapering off now that the majority of the hold had fallen ill and been healed, but they were all worried about the possibility that Bones’ strength would give out before the illness did. 

Trey slid one hand into her tangled hair, supporting her head and dabbing the blood away with his other hand. It was selfish, but he craved these little moments of being close to her, touching her, caring for her. She leaned into his hand slightly as though too exhausted to stay upright. He shifted to kneel, making himself a more stable base to support her, and she let him. He wished that meant she trusted him, but he knew it was more likely her body reaching its limit.

He glanced up at Sam, who read his intentions and made a face. Bones was almost done, and they both knew she was going to fight to do another. 

“Hey,” he murmured, dabbing away another trickle of blood and waiting until those gorgeous green eyes focused on him. “This is the last one, alright?”

She stared at him, her face doing that thing where it went eerily blank, and he tried to brace himself for the argument. 

“Ok,” she finally mumbled, her voice hoarse and raspy. 

Trey glanced up at Sam, worry twisting a knot in his gut. Sam’s eyebrows raised, and his mouth pressed into a harder line. Fuck. She’d never not argued about continuing. 

She finished healing Abe a minute later, but after she released his arm, she didn’t move from where she knelt on the floor. Sam cleared his throat and then shook his head slightly. Trey nodded, understanding the message that Bones would likely pass out when she stood.

“You ready?” he asked her with another smile he didn’t feel. 

She nodded and he took her arm. Sam had moved around the bed, standing behind them in case he needed help. He stood first, planting his feet, and helped her stand. As expected, her eyes immediately rolled back and she went limp. Trey caught her easily, crouching to get one arm under her legs, and lifted her in one smooth move. 

“She gonna be ok?” Abe asked, pushing himself up to sit with shaky arms and frowning. “She don’t look good.”

“She just needs some rest.” Trey tried to sound confident, but the worry in Abe’s face didn’t lessen.

“Well, give her my thanks, will you?” Abe’s voice grew more gruff. “I woulda been a goner if she hadn’t been here.”

“Will do,” Sam replied.

Bones’ forehead rested against his neck, and he could feel every shallow exhale against his skin. She’d been worryingly thin when he carried her to the rovers after they found her, but after a few months of living here she’d looked healthier and stronger. Now she looked frail and sickly again like healing this sickness was leeching the life from her. Worry tightened around his heart. 

“You want the horse?” Sam asked as they stepped outside. 

Violet lifted her head, ears pricking forward at the sight of them. 

“I think I’ll just carry her,” he replied.

They weren’t too far from the clinic, and he preferred to carry her back whenever possible. He was grateful that Sam had figured that out quick without him saying a word. 

Sam nodded as he unhitched Violet, stroking the horse’s nose. “Just you and me, old girl. See you in a bit, Trey.”

Trey started walking, focusing on the feel of Bones breathing in his arms. This had become his saving grace, holding her and reminding himself she was still alive with every breath. His fear and worry felt like actual beasts that he had to beat into submission every moment of every day. He tried to stay strong and positive for her as she healed, but these walks were one of the times when he allowed the mask to drop.  

What if she dies? What if she is dying?

He turned his head slightly, his cheek pressing against her temple, and inhaled the scent of her hair. She always smelled like lavender thanks to their soap, and he’d never be able to separate that scent from her. She’d told him it could relieve anxiety, and it did, but Trey was certain it calmed him because it was the scent of her. 

She’s alive. She’s alive. He repeated it in his head to the rhythm of her breathing. 

Bones stirred slightly in his arms, and he slowed, craning his neck to look at her face. Her eyes cracked open, slivers of green peeking through her lashes. 

“Trey?” she mumbled.

“I got you, darlin’,” he murmured, then inwardly winced.

He’d been referring to her that way in his head for some time now, and he was starting to slip up. So far he’d only accidentally called her “darlin’” when she was half-conscious, and she hadn’t mentioned it. He hoped she didn’t remember. 

Gods, he hoped she did.

“I don’t feel good,” she whispered, and his stomach dropped in fear.

She’d never said that before, even after she was attacked and her face was fucking covered in bruises and she limped around the clinic for days. The fact that she was saying it now— 

“I know, Bones,” he replied, willing his voice to be steady and calm. “It’s alright, I got you. We’re gonna go back to the clinic and you’re gonna get some rest.” 

“Don’t leave.” 

He frowned. Had they mistimed things? Was she getting a burnout fever? They’d done that twice during the early days of the sickness, but he thought they’d gotten better—

“Trey?” Her arms tightened around his neck, almost clinging to him, but she didn’t feel feverish. “Please? Please don’t leave.”

She didn’t have a fever. Maybe it was exhaustion, but it felt like she was actually asking him to stay. 

The emotion that crashed over him was so intense that it stole the breath from his lungs for a moment. Gods. He loved her. He loved her.

“I’m not goin’ anywhere, darlin’,” he promised firmly as soon as he could speak. 

Bones let out a tiny sigh like she felt relieved. A second later, her arms around his neck went limp again.

He loved her.

Maybe he’d always loved her. 

Maybe it had struck him the moment she opened her eyes in Wrangler’s office and their brilliant green color had nearly rendered him senseless.

Maybe it was the moment she fell asleep on his shoulder in the rover, curling into him like her body instinctively knew he wouldn’t hurt her. 

Maybe it was when he watched her calm that feral kitten and realized that she wore her sharp angles like armor to protect the soft heart inside.

Maybe it was the night she woke up screaming and reached for him then hadn’t let go. She’d asked him to stay that time too. She’d wanted his comfort, wanted it so much that it scared her if the next morning was any indication.

Maybe it didn’t matter when because he knew with the surest conviction that he loved her right now, that he would love her always.

He swallowed hard, his arms tightening around her, and even though he knew she’d either passed out or fallen asleep, he said, “You gotta promise the same, alright? You gotta promise not to go anywhere, darlin’. You gotta promise not to go where I can’t follow.” 

He forced himself to take a steadying breath, to let her lavender scent soothe him a little, to focus on her breathing. She’s alive. She’s alive.

“I love you, Bones,” he murmured into her hair, his voice hoarse with emotion. “I love you so godsdamned much, and if this is all I ever get, I’ll take it and be grateful. So long as you promise to keep fightin’.” 

Mac was waiting at the clinic when he arrived. He looked exhausted too, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “It’s earlier,” he said in a clipped voice. 

“Yeah,” Trey replied.

To anyone else, Mac might look pissed, but Trey knew him better than anyone, and his brother was worried. 

“How many did she get to?”

“Twelve,” Trey answered. It was two less than yesterday.

“Fuck,” Mac muttered.

Trey glanced up at the loft, but no little eyes were peering over the edge. 

“I sent the kids out to do a count, see how many are still sick,” Mac said, noticing his look.

Trey raised his eyebrows as he made his way to Bones’ mattress, and Mac’s lips twitched up in a smile as he made his way to the opposite side.  

“I made sure one of the older kids was in each group this time.”

“So we’re not gonna get eight different numbers?”

“Well, can’t promise that.”

Together they shifted Bones down to her mattress. She didn’t wake up, her head rolling limply to the side. Mac moved down to her feet and began unlacing her boots, a deep furrow in his brow, while Trey maneuvered her arms from her jacket. She immediately began to shiver, so he pulled her blanket up. It was a thin, ratty thing, and he frowned. He’d been trying to find a better one, but nice blankets were scarce as the weather grew colder. They’d even moved her mattress closer to the wood stove, but it didn’t seem to help much. He stood up and fetched his blanket from his mattress and brought it over, adding it on top. Trey took a moment to smooth her tangled hair out of her face, his fingers lingering on her freckled cheek. She looked so peaceful, and it was almost funny how unnerving that was. He wished she was awake and glaring at him or stubbornly refusing to sit down and take a rest or snapping at him for standing in front of the cabinet she needed to get into. 

Mac got her boots off and tucked both blankets over her feet. “She should sleep longer this time. Let her sleep at least eight hours. Maybe that will help.” 

Trey nodded as he replied, “Yeah, that’s probably smart.”

Mac stayed crouching on the opposite side of the mattress, studying Bones’ pale face. A muscle flexed in his jaw. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Mac.”

His brother looked at him, his grey eyes like steel. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

It wasn’t the first time that Mac refused to hope for the best, and it wouldn’t be the last. Trey knew they saw the world in very different lights, but sometimes the difference was so stark it jarred him. 

“I gotta believe she will be,” Trey said, holding his eyes and refusing to back down. “It’s what’s keepin’ me going.”

Mac’s eyes softened and he sighed, running a hand through his unruly hair. “I know. I’m sorry, Trey. I’m just…”

“Worried?” Trey finished for him. 

Mac looked back down at Bones’ still form, muttering a gruff, “Yeah.”

“You want a drink?”

The two of them pulled out the rickety wooden chairs and Trey fetched the bottle of moonshine he had on hand. They passed the bottle back and forth silently for a while, but Trey had never been able to hide anything from Mac.

“You ok?’ Mac asked as he took the bottle. 

Trey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and digging his hands into his hair. “I love her, Mac.”

Mac was quiet for long enough that he straightened to look at him. His brother was staring at him, one eyebrow raised. 

“You just figurin’ that out now?”

Trey huffed a quiet laugh. “You were always the smarter one.”

“Nah, you just love everyone, so it makes sense that it took you a bit to realize she was different.”

“I don’t know what to do now,” Trey confessed after a few seconds.

“Whaddya mean?”

“Feels like I gotta do something.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ve never felt like this before.”

“Just keep doin’ what you’re doin’,” Mac said, taking a long drink.

“What am I doin’?” Trey asked, only half joking.

Mac passed him the bottle, his face serious. “Lovin’ her.”

“Thanks,” Trey muttered, rolling his eyes. “You’re a real fountain of knowledge.”

Mac snorted. 

Bones suddenly shot upright, scaring the shit out of both of them. Her eyes were open, but they were wild and unfocused and her chest heaved as she gasped for air. 

They were at her side in the span of a second, but she recoiled away from them. 

“Bones, you’re safe,” Trey said, keeping his voice quiet and even. “It’s alright, you’re just dreamin’.”

Mac knelt on the opposite side of her mattress, watching with his brow drawn together.

“Please.” Her voice shook, and the desperate plea in it made fury burn in his chest. “Please stop.”

“Bones, you’re in the clinic. It’s me and Mac. You’re safe.” 

He risked gently resting his hand on her forearm, and she jerked like he’d burned her, wrapping both arms around her torso. Her eyes were full of tears, but they were still glazed with sleep. 

“Bones,” Mac said in a commanding, yet gentle voice that Trey wasn’t sure he’d ever heard his brother use before. “Bones, wake up.”

She blinked, and her eyes suddenly focused on them. He watched confusion, horror, and then embarrassment flash across her face before she schooled her expression. 

“You were just dreamin’,” he said softly, wishing he could pull her into his arms and hold her.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, brushing her hair out of her face with a shaky hand. 

“It’s alright, Bones,” Mac murmured. “You want some food while you’re awake?”

She nodded, and Mac stood up and headed for the kitchen. They’d started stocking her cupboards with quick, simple things to eat for the brief moments when she was awake enough to do so. 

“You ok?” Trey asked, lowering his voice. 

Her eyes flicked over to him briefly before darting away again. She nodded like she always did, but her hands were still trembling. She had nightmares almost every night, but she hadn’t let him comfort her again like she had before she ran away into Zip’s arms.

His jaw tightened. That fucker. If he ever so much as—

“How many did I get to?” Bones asked, and he forced his rage back down.

“Twelve.”

She frowned. “I should—”

“Rest,” Trey inserted firmly.

Her eyes narrowed into a glare, and it was such a relief to see the familiar expression on her face that he grinned. 

“What time is it?” she demanded, her nose scrunching as her glare deepened.

“Time to rest,” Mac answered, crouching down to hand her a plate with some dried meat, nuts, and a sliced-up apple. 

She turned her scowl on Mac, but he just straightened and moved to throw more wood into the stove. Trey stayed next to her, filling the silence with random shit about how the day had gone, how many people were still sick, and what the kids were doing. She ate slowly, often glancing at him sideways as he talked with that familiar expression of annoyance mixed with something softer. It was that something softer that made him keep doing it, talking with no expectation of her joining in. He was learning to recognize the times when she needed someone to fill the silence and when she truly wanted silence. 

Bones ate about half her food before she started dozing off into her plate. Trey convinced her to lay back down, and she grumbled at him but fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. He sat on the floor beside her, watching her breathe for a few seconds. 

She’s alive. She’s alive.

“This,” Mac said.

Trey glanced up at him, his brow furrowing. “What?”

Mac stood at the foot of Bones’ mattress, his eyes softer than they’d been before. “Keep doin’ this.” He gestured between Trey and Bones. “Showin’ her what love looks like, that she can trust you, that you’re in this for the long haul.” 

“I don’t know if it’s makin’ much of a difference,” Trey confessed. 

Mac smiled, but there was a sadness in it that caught his attention. “It is,” his brother said, the sadness vanishing before Trey could figure out what it meant. “It’s makin’ all the difference in the world.” 

The door opened and Apple, Cloud, and Atlas came traipsing inside, their cheeks and noses pink from the cold. 

“Eight hundred!” Apple announced confidently.

“No,” Atlas sounded exasperated. “Not eight hundred. One hundred twenty-eight.” 

Apple didn’t even hear him because she’d noticed Bones and himself, her entire face lighting up. She darted toward him, clambering into his lap and sitting so she could face Bones. Trey sat frozen for a moment, unsure if he should wrap his arms around her or not. Apple had warmed up to him a lot, but she’d never done this before. He glanced at Mac and saw his surprise reflected in his brother’s face. 

“Is Bones ok?” Cloud asked in a whisper, his little face lined with worry. 

“She’s just sleepin’, bud,” Mac answered. “You should do the same.”

They were all keeping weird hours, most of them following Bones’ sleep schedule. Lately she’d been insisting on only sleeping for four hour chunks, which meant all of them were tired. 

Atlas and Cloud headed up the ladder, but Apple stayed in his lap, eyeing Bones’ plate. 

“You hungry, kiddo?” he asked, offering her what was left. 

She took it and tilted her head back, blue eyes crinkling as she smiled. “Thanks, Treysie.” 

His eyebrows raised. “Treysie?”

She grinned mischievously and simply turned to devour the rest of Bones’ food. Mac got a rag and wiped up the muddy snow the kids had tracked in, only for the rest of the kids to come in and mess up the floor again. 

“One hundred and six!” 

“No, one hundred thirty-one!”

“What? No, it’s one hundred and twenty-eight!”

Mac sighed dramatically, and Trey pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. He’d never really seen Mac interact with little kids before Bones decided to turn the clinic into a shelter for the orphans, but he was enjoying it now. Mac was better at it than he would have guessed, but most of the kids were still scared of him, well, of his reputation. Surprisingly Cloud, the most anxious of the kids, had been the first to decide Mac was safe. 

“Alright, shoes off,” Mac ordered, but his voice was playful. “Who’s hungry?”

Most of the kids were casting nervous glances at him as they removed their shoes, and no one answered for a moment. 

“Me!” Cloud whisper-yelled from the loft, and that was all the encouragement the rest needed, a chorus of “me’s” answering him. 

“Alright, go upstairs. I’ll go get somethin’ from the kitchen.” 

The kids scampered up the ladder, most of them waving or loudly whispering greetings at him and he grinned back at them. Mac threw the rag on the floor and moved it around with his foot to wipe up the last of the water before grabbing his jacket. 

“You good to hold down the fort, Treysie?” he asked with a smirk as he fastened the buttons.

Trey rolled his eyes, but he was still grinning. “All good here, Macaroo,” he said, using the nickname Clarity had given him when she was just learning to talk.

Mac snorted a laugh and fetched his hat from the coat rack. Then his eyes focused on Apple and his smile softened. “She’s out.”

Trey glanced down to see that Apple had fallen asleep, the back of her head resting on his chest and a piece of dried meat still clenched in her little fist. He smiled, warmth filling him. 

“That’s ok. I wasn’t plannin’ on movin’.”

“I’ll be back in a few,” Mac said with a final grin before heading out the door. 

Trey scooted back a little to lean against the wall, cradling Apple, watching Bones breathe evenly, and listening to the kids whisper to each other upstairs. This was not the life he’d imagined for himself, but it was somehow better than any of his grand plans of adventure. Things at the Vault were changing, really changing. People were daring to hope for something better than Madame’s “protection.” The rebellion was growing and a large part of it was due to Bones’ and her refusal to accept the things they’d been ingrained to see as normal. She didn’t hesitate to go into the slums or the brothel to heal people, demonstrating that while Madame might not give a shit about their lives, she did. She housed and fed the orphans, which in turn had practically eliminated the uptick in theft that happened every winter. 

“It’s never enough,” she’d said, and he wished she could see the difference she’d already made in just a few months. For someone who didn’t believe she was good, she’d spread goodness to every corner of the Vault.

Gods, he loved her.

If he could just convince her that she was worthy of it, that she was worthy of everything, he’d die a happy man. 

Trey leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, Apple a warm, comforting weight in his arms. No, this wasn’t the life he’d pictured, but he wouldn’t trade it for the world.