He'd been fine as a friend, a playmate for their baby. But at some point their daughter's heart had gotten involved, and they knew from experience that Kibby was not ready for that kind of relationship, that Fabian could take advantage of her, and under their own roof, he had.
But despite that, he was still the boy that they'd watched charm their little girl into smiles, as he chased her around the house, and their hearts broke the moment they'd read about the attack on his parents in the papers. It wasn't much longer that they'd waited and received a letter from their own daughter explaining what she wanted them to do. And enclosed in a separate envelope was a separate letter for Fabian, his name scrawled across it in her handwriting.
So there they were in Hackney, London on the steps of the Prewett house, Lilisina's arms folded over her chest and Marti's hand knocking steadily on the door, prepared to take the boy home with them, help the family with the funeral arrangements and supporting their daughter's ex-boyfriend. Not only because she'd asked, but because they still liked Fabian.
If they'd bothered to try to open the letter they would have found a heartfelt note. One that she'd poured out everything into, trying to convince Fabian to let someone help him. The red head knew him best, sometimes better than his own brother, and though she told him she couldn't forgive him, tragedy had a way of softening the hardest of hearts, and when the heart half on it's way to forgiving anyway...
It read:
Fabi-Baby,
I am so sorry. I don't even know what for anymore. For us, for your parents, for everything. I am sitting in my bed thinking of you, not knowing what to tell you to make it right. Just know that I am hurting for you, my heart aches every time I think about your parents, about your boss. I want to be there to hold you, even though I said I couldn't forgive you. Maybe I still can't, but I can be your friend. I want to be your friend Fabi-baby. And because there is nothing I can do from here, perhaps there is something my parents can?
They want to take you home with them. Please, let them. I know that is asking a lot, but I would feel so much better knowing you were safe and not alone. It doesn't have to be forever, even just for a few days, a few weeks. I know you don't owe me anything, but they still care for you Fabian. They do, or they wouldn't have given you this letter. I want you to be with them, my brothers, my parents and grandparents, with the people I love most...because...well... just because will have to be answer enough until I figure it all out.
I don't know if it's a good idea for you to write back. I think...distance is good for us. This is good for us isn't it Fabian? Just...being apart? I hate asking questions in letters. I'll know if you go with them, my dad will write and tell me.
Look, they want you to stay with them. They never stopped loving you Fabian, they are still the same people for you...even though they've changed on me. I never went home after everything happened over the summer, so my room is yours if you want it.
Let my parents do what I can't Fabs. Let them take care of you, I gave them a list of things you like to eat..and Gideon and Holly's house address.
Take care.
Always, Kibby Grey
Morti's knocking stopped as the handle on the door turned. Lilisina's arms dropped to her side as she turned to face the slow opening door. Her heart in her dark eyes, he was barely of age, barely a year older than her own child, younger than her sons. Her heart would break into a million pieces if she'd had to leave them, she couldn't imagine what the boy was feeling. But typical Mrs. Grey behavior it was her spouse who spoke first.
"Fabian, my boy." The sound was gruff from the tall man with wide shoulders that looked like they could span the island of Ireland. Big hands, thick muscled arms wrapped around the blonde boy as he appeared in the doorway, squeezing just a bit more roughly than intended, pounding his back.
"Fabian..." Lilisina stepped forward. "Are you alright?"




