LOGINThe house didn’t go back to normal.Not right away.It didn’t need to—but that didn’t stop everyone from noticing the difference.—Finn stayed in his room.Not shut away.Just… there.The door stayed open now, a few inches at first, then a little more as the evening settled in.It wasn’t an invitation exactly.But it wasn’t a barrier either.—Jake passed by once, then again.Didn’t stop.Didn’t look in for too long.Just enough to register that Finn was still on the bed, ankle propped slightly, the ice pack resting where it should be.Still there.Still okay.—Alex checked once.Knocked lightly against the doorframe instead of the door.“Still good?”Finn nodded. “Yeah.”A pause.“…Thanks.”Alex gave a small nod back. “Of course.”Then he left again.No hovering.—It was quieter than usual.Not tense.Just… thoughtful.—Liam noticed it most.He’d been there earlier.He’d seen how it went wrong.And how it almost went right.Which, somehow, made it harder to place.—He lingered i
They don’t go right away.Even after they agree—together—they still wait a little longer.Not out of doubt.Out of respect.—The house settles around them.A quiet shift of pipes, a faint creak in the floorboards, the low hum of something electrical in the background. Ordinary sounds. Familiar.Grounding.Jake leans back against the counter again, arms loosely crossed now, not tight like before. Alex stays close, shoulder brushing his, not moving away.They don’t talk.They don’t need to.The decision’s already been made.—After a minute, Jake exhales. “…Okay.”Alex glances at him. “Yeah?”Jake nods toward the hallway. “We should go before I overthink it.”A faint smile touches Alex’s mouth. “You already are.”“Exactly my point.”That earns a quiet breath of laughter—small, but real.—Jake pushes off the counter.This time, he doesn’t pace.He just stands there for a second, steadying himself.Alex reaches out, fingers catching his sleeve briefly—not stopping him, just anchoring.J
The front door clicked shut softer than usual.That was the first sign.Not the limp—though it was there, faint but careful. Not the way Finn kept his eyes forward as he stepped inside.It was the quiet.“Hey,” Alex called from the kitchen.Finn didn’t stop walking. “Hey.”“Everything okay?”“Yeah.”Too quick.Too flat.And then he was already down the hall.A door closed—not hard, not sharp. Just… final.—Jake leaned back against the counter, arms folding loosely across his chest. He didn’t look at Alex right away.Alex didn’t need him to.“He’s not okay,” Alex said quietly.Jake let out a slow breath through his nose. “No.”They didn’t move.Didn’t follow.That part—they’d learned.—A beat passed.Then another.Jake reached for the edge of the counter, tapping his fingers against it once before stilling them. “That was worse than yesterday.”Alex nodded slightly. “Yeah.”“Something didn’t work.”It wasn’t a question.Alex glanced toward the hallway, then back. “Or it worked… until
It didn’t fall apart.That would’ve been easier to recognize.There was no sharp argument, no raised voices, no moment where everything clearly went wrong. If anything, it started like every other day had been starting lately—steady, familiar in its new way.That was what made it harder to catch.—They were moving through town this time, not the field. Narrow streets, uneven stone underfoot, small shifts in elevation that didn’t look like much until you stepped on them wrong.Finn had been doing fine.Not perfect, but fine.Answering when they asked. Asking when he needed to. Keeping pace without pushing it too far.It felt… manageable.Normal, in a different way.—“Do you want to take a break?”Liam’s voice came as they slowed near a corner.Finn shook his head. “No, I’m good.”And he was.At least, he thought he was.Jake nodded, accepting it. Alex didn’t say anything, just adjusted his path slightly so he was walking closer to Finn’s left side.Not touching.Just there.—They ke
It wasn’t immediate.The shift from that conversation—honest, steady, unfinished—didn’t resolve into anything clean the next day. Or the one after that. Nothing snapped into place.Instead, things… carried.Finn noticed it in the small gaps.Not the big moments—the asking, the answering, the careful choices they’d agreed on. Those held. They were trying, and it showed.But in between?That was where the old habits lingered.“Do you want help?” Jake asked, casual, like it was nothing.Finn glanced up from where he was balancing awkwardly on one foot, shoe half-on. “…No, I’ve got it.”Jake nodded. “Okay.”And he meant it.He didn’t step in. Didn’t hover. Didn’t even stay too close.But he didn’t leave either.He leaned against the wall instead, arms crossed loosely, gaze drifting—not fixed on Finn, not ignoring him.Just… there.Finn noticed that too.It wasn’t pressure.But it wasn’t absence.And somehow, that middle ground still felt unfamiliar.—Later, it was Liam.“You’re limping m
They didn’t move right away.Not after the agreement, not after the quiet “we good.” It could have ended there—clean, resolved—but something in the air resisted being wrapped up that neatly. The moment had settled, but it hadn’t disappeared.Finn noticed it first.Not in anything obvious. No one was tense. No one was hovering wrong again. But the quiet stretched a little longer than before, like there was still something unspoken sitting just beneath it.He shifted slightly, testing his ankle again. The pain was still there—duller now that he wasn’t pretending it wasn’t—but steady enough to keep his attention.“…It’s not just the ankle,” he said.The words slipped out before he fully decided to say them.Jake turned his head. Liam stilled. Alex, who had just pulled his hands back, paused halfway through leaning away.No one interrupted.Finn let out a breath through his nose. “…I mean—it is. But it’s not just that.”Liam’s voice came carefully. “Okay.”Not what do you mean. Not explai
A week after the championship, Vancouver was still celebrating.Murals of the Vancouver Grizzlies had appeared across downtown. Kids wore tiny jerseys with “Baby Fangs” on the back. Every sports channel replayed the final goal on loop.But for the Thorne family, the spotlight had finally dimmed—at
The roar inside Rogers Arena didn’t just return—it erupted.What had begun as panic had transformed into something electric, something historic. Tens of thousands of fans were now on their feet, chanting, stomping, shaking the very building that had just survived collapse.“GRIZZ-LIES! GRIZZ-LIES!
The city of Vancouver had transformed overnight.Every street seemed to glow green beneath banners and flags for the Vancouver Grizzlies. Outside Rogers Arena, thousands of fans gathered hours before the next game, chanting, singing, and waving signs.“PUCKS AND PUPS!”“THORNE FAMILY FOREVER!”“ONE
Two days after the overtime victory, the excitement around the Vancouver Grizzlies had reached a fever pitch.Across Vancouver, every sports bar, street corner, and coffee shop buzzed with playoff talk. The team was now one win away from advancing to the championship series, and fans had turned the







