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He was distracted enough by the state of his closet that he didn't respond to Elke right away. There were his things, of course, haphazardly arranged as they always were, but they were slowly being tucked to one side, the closet split in two to make room for dresses. While Elke was removing clothing for him, he was peering curiously at a minty green dress, fingering the edges of the sleeves as he considered it. It was new, he thought, because he couldn't remember ever seeing her wear it; then again, maybe he'd just forgotten.

He didn't like to forget things. He frowned, just a little, and released the dress, peering down at the outfit she'd assembled for him. The jeans were fine, but the shirt had short sleeves, and he wasn't quite prepared to show off all his scars just yet. He had just come home.

"Sure," he said agreeably, flipping past a few more shirts until he found a simple, long-sleeved white one. "I'll layer this under it."

Reluctantly, he released her hand, folding the clothes over one arm. After a few beats, he revisited their earlier topic, reaching over to brush her bangs away from her forehead as he did. "And yeah, I'd like to stay here, too. Why not? It's been kind of..."

Crazy? Horrible? Terrifying? Elke had nightmares; so did he, but he was much more worried about her waking up alone and afraid than he'd ever been about himself. While it was true that he'd just woken up a day or so ago, it had been longer for Elke. How much longer, he didn't know, but she'd been relatively alone during that time, and he didn't want that. He was her big brother, and that meant he was supposed to protect her from things real and imagined, during waking and sleeping. It had never been a problem for them to share a bed before, so it didn't even cross his mind that his parents would have an issue with it now.

That would just be ridiculous.

His hand rested against her cheek, thumb tapping lightly next to her nose. "So let me get changed and we'll settle in, okay?"

It went without saying that he wanted to get some structure and normalcy back to his life, but if he was totally honest, he also just wanted to sleep. He wanted to lay down in his bed in his own clothes and sleep, and he wanted his little sister tucked against his chest like she had been so many times before. She was his comfort, his treasure; he loved his entire family, loved the Zodiac, and of course loved his Princess, but Elke was just a little nearer and dearer to his heart than the others. In this life, she was his precious sister, and she'd been that and more in distant memories. She was really one of the only people he wanted to see that day, and that was why he hadn't contacted Hero, or Topher, or anyone else.

He'd just wanted his family.

"I missed you too, sweetie," he said, even though it was irrational; he'd been under a medically induced coma, hadn't even logically known he was alive much less had the presence of mind to miss anyone. But for Grayson, missing someone was more than thinking about them, more than consciously noting their absence. It went deeper than that, maybe because he was a Zodiac, maybe because she was Virgo to his Leo and they'd once been connected deeper than anything he could fathom -- or maybe it was just because he was Grayson and she was Elke, and they'd always known they were an integral part of one another's lives.

He couldn't explain it, didn't really want to try. It was a deep knowing, something that might have frightened him if it hadn't felt so absolutely right, so he didn't fight it. Virgo was Leo's comrade, friend, and those bonds were deep, but Elke was Grayson's sister of the spirit. When he said he missed her, he really meant it; he'd woken up and immediately, he'd thought of his family, and her face was one of them. She was completely essential to him, and his fragmented memories of the crash came back to him, he could only thank God that she was alive.

"See you in a few minutes," he promised, and when she padded out, he hesitated for a second or two before locking the door. It was never something he would have worried about before, but the last thing he wanted was Pop poking his head in and having a heart attack when he saw the extent of Grayson's actual scars. The ones on his face were bad enough.

He stripped, tossing the clothes on the floor out of habit, and it felt ridiculously good to be back in his own things. The jeans weren't as snug as they used to be, which was mildly annoying; he was going to have to actually work to build back muscle mass, and he hated that. Still, it wasn't entirely noticeable, because he'd always been tall and lanky. If his cheeks were a little thinner these days, he doubted that was the first thing someone was going to notice about his face.

Tugging his tee shirt into place, he hesitated a second and then went for a belt, a black and white checkered one that made Tristan roll his eyes every time he saw it. He was buckling it when there was a knock on his door, and he unlocked it, one hand on the doorknob, the other still messing with his belt when he swung it open.

It was Elke, of course, looking adorable and just a little bit anxious for the split-second that it took for her eyes to flick up to his face. He adjusted his belt, finally, dropped his hands and peered at her from his considerable height.

"You look gorgeous," he decided, lips slanting into a wide, lazy grin. He offered his hand, still smiling, and scratched his hip with the other. "Let's get downstairs before they think we've climbed out the window and made a break for it."

"I think Pop's got it covered," Grayson said, amused to see Van already at the stove, his familiar apron tucked around his person, readying ingredients for a meal. He had no idea what it would be, but he didn't care: he was hungry, he wanted his pop's cooking, and it felt good to be surrounded by his family.

Tristan was slouching at the table, his perpetual frown turning down the corners of his mouth, but dark purple eyes chanced in the direction of his elder brother every so often. For his part, Grayson just wanted it to be a normal evening. The sooner they could all get past his sudden return the better, the sooner a routine was set, the better. He knew he would have to explain what had happened, that his parents were probably bursting at the seams wanting to know how the hell he was alive, but he didn't really feel up to it yet.

After dinner, probably. He'd sit down and tell them all what had happened, but...

"So are we all just going to pretend this is normal, or is Grayson going to tell us what the hell is up," Tristan demanded suddenly.

Van's hands faltered, and he dropped something into the sink; he swore, softly, and picked it up again, continuing on as though there had been no interruption. "It can wait until after dinner, Tristan," was his suggestion.

"So we are going to--"

"After dinner," came Arthur's firm voice, followed by a hand on his younger son's shoulder. There was a brief, awkward silence, and then Grayson sighed.

"Why don't I just... now?" He lifted his hands, a little helplessly. "Everyone's here. It won't be weighing on anyone's head. It's... it was just a mix-up, anyway, so."

He glanced around, a little unsure, waiting for an overwhelming yes or no.

"I'd like that," Van murmured to Elke, sidestepping a bit so that she could come to stand beside him.

Grayson licked his lips, feeling a lot more alone with no one standing beside him. He was the odd man out, even though this was his family; he was the one who had intruded, even if it was a welcome intrusion, and upset the balance. They were split cleanly down the middle, and it made it harder for Grayson, because he could see on his Dad's face and in Tristan's eyes that they both wanted to know just then, and he could tell by the set of Pop's shoulders that he wasn't quite ready. Elke, too, had spoken up, didn't want to hear, and he fervently wished that it hadn't been brought up at all.

He loved his brother, he did, but sometimes his mouth was too big for the rest of him. Of course it had to be explained, but.

But delicacy had never been Tristan's strong suit.

He sighed, bringing his hands up, fanning his fingers over his face. "After dinner," he decided, feeling small despite being the second-tallest person in the room. "It's okay to wait, isn't it? I just got back-"

He had to stop, because his voice faltered a little, and he continued, even more quietly, hands still over his face, "I'm really sorry, and I know you've all been waiting a long time, but I just... it feels like yesterday, and..."

And he grew quiet again.

It was awkward, for just a moment or two, but the moment smoothed out, passed. Because he wasn't much help in the kitchen (decent, but lazy and prone to shortcuts that didn't actually turn out well) he lowered himself to a chair, propped his chin up on his hands. Arthur and Tristan slipped out, presumably to have a conversation that didn't involve the rest of them, and this left Grayson sitting at the table watching the others cook.

He began to tap his foot against the floor, working out an idle beat, when Elke asked a peculiar question. Pausing, he frowned a little, slowly lowering one hand to the table.

"Walk to school? Aren't you staying in the dorms?" Elke went to Crystal Academy and always had as far as he could recall, and she had Serenade for a roommate. He knew how close she was to the princess, and couldn't imagine she would trade that for being a day-girl.

Not to mention, he would much rather focus on the mundane, like how Elke was getting to school, than sort through the horrific mix-up that had led to his family thinking he was dead for months.

It was definitely a happier topic.

It was a surprise to Grayson that Elke would no longer be attending Crystal, but it didn't really cross his mind to be disappointed or disapproving. Meadowview was a good school, but more important than that, Elke wasn't happy at Crystal -- no matter what the reasons, he felt strongly that she should be happy wherever she was. It was impossible to be happy all the time, he knew this very well, but Elke was Elke. She gathered all the happiness around her and reflected it back on the world, and it was wrong to have her be somewhere where she wasn't as absolutely happy as she could be. If that meant living at home with his parents and his brother, then he thought absolutely that was where she should be.

He was pretty happy for it, actually. He could see her a lot more if she wasn't living in the dorms, even when he moved out. Though that was the furthest thing from his mind at the moment, it was true that he wasn't going back to Meadowview, and as per the agreement with his parents, if he didn't go to college, he didn't live at home. He would be moving out within a few months, but he could always visit, and it would be so much easier to see them all if she lived there.

Brightening a little at the thought, perhaps the first true smile he'd worn that day on his lips, he said, "That's great. I'll be able to see you whenever I want."

For Grayson, it was as simple as that. He leaned over, placing both of his large hands over the top of her small ones, eyebrows hiking just a bit as he added, "And you'll be happier. That's all that matters, really."

He squeezed her hands, the smile slipping from his face, but expression remaining pleasant. "Want me to walk you to school for your first day?"

"Of course," Grayson said, and he normally would have laughed, but he wasn't quite up to laughing just yet. His own fingers, long and tapered, lightly circled her wrists, and for a moment, he was content to just sit like that. In the months leading up to the car crash, he and Elke hadn't spent as much time together as he would have liked, looking back.

It was funny, because he always thought that if anything was going to kill him, it would be the Negaverse. That's how it had happened before, so he just assumed, foolishly, that somehow the only things he really had to fear were other magical beings. It wasn't that he thought he was invincible, just that he forgot that ordinary people died in ordinary ways every day, and even though he was Sailor Leo, he was still just as vulnerable to the whims of the universe as anyone else. Maybe even moreso, considering who he was.

He knew he couldn't take back the past, couldn't change it or make it better, but he could spend more time with Elke and his family in the future. He could go see Topher and make the effort, as he had never done before, be the one to find him to hang out. He could actually be the one who acted like he gave a damn, because he did, really, he was just lazy and unmotivated -- but he needed to change. Even if it was just a little, a little bit at a time, he needed to become the person that he wanted to be.

His eyes reflected his thoughts, long lashes tipping down to shield them as he examined his and Elke's joined hands. After another moment of silence, he added, "I'll pick you up after, too, if you want."

Baby steps, he reminded himself. He wasn't the type to make a promise and not keep it, as long as he remembered he'd made it, so. Maybe he'd drop Elke off at school, go look for another job while she was there. He was pretty sure that he was unemployed by virtue of being dead, or at least assumed dead, and he didn't want to go back to Larry's Pizza anyway. He liked Barnaby, but he could always visit. Jude had worked there, so...

He just wanted to start over.

For just a moment, Grayson's expression pinched. She'd gotten so used to him being absent that it probably didn't occur to her that he'd be here, just like her -- that she wouldn't need to call him, but simply roll over and shove at him until he woke up. It was disorienting still to think that he'd been in a coma, assumed dead, long enough that the world had started to turn without him again. It was bound to happen, of course, just like after Barren Pines, except then he had really died, and he'd been gone a year, and.

And he was tired of missing pieces of his life, tired of coming back like nothing had even changed while everything subtly shifted. A world without him, a routine that adjusted to him never coming home again. A family that had only one son and one daughter, and it hurt of course, but they'd already been through this before and didn't things get easier with time and repetition?

He licked his lips, an old habit that would die with him when he finally, actually died, and squeezed her wrists again. It was a little more feeble this time, and he said, "Sure. Sure, just wake me up and we'll get going."

Van turned then, drying his hands on a checkered towel, and smiled at the two of them. It was brief, but it was a smile, and that was more than Grayson had been getting so far. It hurt him, too, to think that his Pop would be hurting every time he looked at him, even though he was happy to have him home, because he would always remember what had almost happened.

Grayson wanted to take that away so badly. So very badly. He knew he couldn't, though, so he just smiled, biting back a sigh, and asked, "Dinner almost ready?"

"In a few minutes," Van confirmed. He walked over, bent at the waist to kiss the top of Elke's head, then Grayson's. "Go wash up, and tell Arthur and Tristan to do the same, please."