A love to last

Give me your shirt."

Falcon gave her a look.

"Why?" He asked.

"It's still bleeding," She said. "We need to wrap it to put some pressure on it so it slows the bleeding."

Falcon sucked in a breath, softly pulling her hands away from his arm.

"Freya,” He paused at the worried look in her eyes. "Baby, we can deal with this later, alright?" "But-" Falcon cut her off with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm okay, sweetheart,” He raised her hands to his lips, kissing them before fixing her with his gaze. "Let's just get somewhere safe before we worry about it. No arguments."

Freya pouted, sinking back in her seat.

"Okay," She mumbled reluctantly.

Falcon sighed before he began talking again.

"Now, I know a place we can stay. We'll deal with my shoulder and then," He glanced at her. "We're going to have that talk, okay?"

Freya frowned put nodded.

"Okay."

~0~

Kace watched on as Falcon sped off the property. Men around him scurried towards their cars and bikes but Kace rolled his eyes, holding up a hand.

"Stop," He called out, making all motion pause as they listened to him. "Don't bother following him."

Without another word, he began walking away. Walking through the kitchen door, his nose screwed up at the overbearing stench of blood.

"And someone, please," His mouth turned down in disgust. "Clean this up."

He stepped over the dead body of Ryder, heading for the main room. A man came up next to him, matching his strides as they walked into the room together.

"Why'd you do that, boss?" The man asked, frustration lining his voice.

Kace smirked slightly in response, not bothering to direct his gaze to the man.

"Let him think he got away," He waved a dismissing hand. "There's nowhere he can go. We'll have him back soon enough."

THE SERIES of knocks delivered to the old wooden door seemed to echo in the darkness

surrounded the couple. It was a cold night - Falcon had cocooned Freya at his side the best he could but he could still feel shivers rack through her body every few minutes. It was her reaction to the temperature that had him pounding once again on the door, harder this time.

"Come on," Falcon muttered to himself. "Where the hell are you?"

Granted, it was close to midnight which generally meant that the two men the particular home housed had long-since fallen asleep. The thought didn't stop Falcon from delivering an even harder blow to the door - it could no longer be called a knock, but somewhat of a right-hook. "Come on!" He growled as Freya shivered again, snuggling closer to his side.

Falcon heaved out an agitated breath, rubbing his hand up and down the length of Freya's arm in an effort to create some semblance of heat.

"Ca-can't we just go hom-home?" Her delicate voice broke the panicked tension in Falcon's body and his posture slackened in response.

He had asked himself the same question over and over again during the last couple of hours. He wished they could just go home. He wanted to go home. To wrap himself around the girl he loved, to relax, to just forget about everything except her. But he couldn't. He had to do the right thing, and the right thing meant explaining everything. Taking her home - the thought made his chest clench - he just knew her father would go above and beyond to keep Freya away from him at all costs. He would do it, but he couldn't risk it while there was still so much to say. He couldn't just leave without her knowing why.

Pain shot through his chest the same moment his fist landed on the door once again. A splinter bit through the skin of his palm but he didn't flinch. He knew what he had to do. It was the only thing he could do. He didn't care how incredibly selfish of him it was, it was the only thing he could do for her - for both of them.

Finally, Falcon's ears picked up on a muffled voice growing closer to the door. He recognised the familiar grumbling tone and a smile licked the sides of his lips despite the situation. The familiar sound of the old chain lock being pulled out sounded before the door swung open to reveal the irritated face of an old man.

"What in the bloody hell do you want at this time of night?" The man's gaze narrowed at the couple before growing wider. "Wait - I don't have my glasses on. I can't see who on this god- forsaken earth you are."

Freya stared at the scene in mild curiosity as a chuckle escaped Falcon's mouth.

"No need to put your glasses on, you old fool," A full-blown grin lit up Falcon's face as the man's eyes became comically wide. "It's just me."

The old man's demeanour completely changed as a warm smile overtook his face and within a second, he had Falcon's upper arm clutched in his wiry hand and was pulling the couple past the threshold.

"It's about time you paid me a visit, young man," The man grunted in an attempt to sound annoyed, but Falcon simply rolled his eyes. "Last I heard, you got let out of that baby jail and here I was, expecting a visit and I never heard anything from you. Nothing, nada, not a peep.' Falcon's smile dimmed slightly as guilt washed over his expression.

"I know," He swallowed harshly. "I'm sorry. I just didn't want to cause any more trouble." The old man scoffed as he deposited Falcon and Freya on a worn leather couch. He stood in front of the two, arms crossed as he stared Falcon down.

"If I saw you as troublesome, I wouldn't have bothered to peel you off the side pavements and bring you home all those nights," The man said sternly. "I do it because I love you, which means I would do it over and over again. Don't be an idiot."

With that, the man left the room and the sound of a boiling kettle filled the air before either of the two spoke.

"Who is he?" Freya's voice floated up from beside him and Falcon turned his attention to her. A small smile settled on his face as he spoke.

"An old friend," Falcon let out an amused breath of air before shaking his head. "His name is Glenn. I used to stay here a lot when I was younger - whenever I wasn't at home or with my brother..."

Falcon trailed off at Freya's confused expression.

"You have a brother?" She asked.

Falcon nodded softly. He had forgotten she still had no idea about anything that had happened. "I'll explain everything soon, okay?" Falcon smoothed away a few stray hairs from her face and she leaned into him with a small smile.

Ever trusting, Freya nodded in agreement the same moment Glenn walked back into the room. Glasses were now perched on his nose and two cups of tea were held in his hands.

"A hot drink for the little miss," He passed a cup to Freya who gratefully curled her hands around the warm beverage.

Glenn shuffled over to an armchair in the corner, settling himself so he was comfortable before setting his eyes back on the couple.

"What about me?" Falcon chuckled slightly as his arm curled tighter around Freya's waist, noticing how cold she still was.

Glenn raised an eyebrow at Falcon's question and took a sip of his tea before answering. "You have two working legs, don't you?" He asked and Falcon nodded, smiling as he already knew where this was going. "And you know where the kitchen is, don't you?" Falcon nodded again, his smile growing.

"Well then, you're perfectly able to make it for yourself, aren't you?" Glenn practically melted into his chair, making it clear he wasn't getting up for anything.

Falcon shook his head in amusement before pushing himself off the couch, pressing a kiss to the top of Freya's head, and walking towards the kitchen to fix himself a drink. Glenn's eyes watched him as he left the room before focusing on the small girl. She was a tiny thing, the teacup was bigger than the span of her two hands put together and dressed in what he could only assume were the pyjamas of a few nights ago, she looked every inch an innocent mess. It hadn't seemed like Falcon had cared - though, to be fair, he had looked just as bad, if not more so. But Glenn had seen him in worse shape.

The two didn't say anything, choosing to settle into a comfortable silence which was soon broken by the Falcon entering the room. The distinct scent of coffee began to fill the room as Falcon sat down, setting his cup on the coffee table in front of the couch. Glenn watched in interest as Falcon wrapped an arm around the girl, kissing the side of her head before shifting her even closer to his side.

With Falcon next to her, she barely seemed old enough be with someone like him and concern flickered over Glenn's features before he smoothed them over.

"How old is she?" Glenn had never really been one to beat around the bush.

Falcon's jaw clenched slightly and Glenn saw anger wash over his features as he caught onto what had been insinuated. Glenn got the impression that he had just poked a very protective papa bear.

"Seventeen," Falcon ground his teeth together. "If you must know."

He didn't like the idea that the one man he looked up to would - could assume that Falcon would take advantage of someone far younger than him. He knew there were a measly two years between their ages, but there was no reason it should ever bother them or anyone else. Glenn held a hand out in defence.

"It was just a question," He said lightly before diverting his attention to the girl in his hold. "What's your name, love?"

Freya's doe eyes flickered towards him and she tilted her head as she answered.

"Freya,” Her voice was barely a whisper but Glenn thankfully heard it.

"Ah," He smiled, leaning back in his chair. "The Norse goddess of love. Well, that was Freyja, but it's where your name comes from."

Freya automatically took an interest in his words. She had always liked reading stories about mythical gods and goddesses - instead of seeing the lunacy in the people who created them as some would, she saw the genius. They created centuries worth of stories all based on a particular thing - the sun, moon, emotions, activities. They had to have been some of the greatest storytellers to have ever existed.

Glenn's eyes twinkled as he saw her lean forward to hear more.

"Perhaps I'll tell you about her a little later," He shot her a playful wink. "For now, you two need

to tell me exactly why I'm up at this hour of the morning."

Falcon's expression grew sombre along with the mood of the room and Freya's body automatically curled back into the safety of his arms.

"It was Kace," Falcon had barely gotten the name out when Glenn's face turned sour. "That good-for-nothing brother of yours?" He scowled. "What the devil did he want?"

Falcon sighed, rubbing away the forming ache behind his eyes.

"He wanted me to join the gang again," He said simply.

Glenn eyed him sceptically for a moment, his brain working a million miles an hour.

"You didn't, did you?" He asked cautiously, his eyes narrowing at Falcon's face as irritation crossed his features.

"Of course not," Falcon snapped. "The asshole already ruined my life once, I'm not about to let him do it again."

Glenn gave Falcon a disapproving look before tutting.

"Language," Glenn raised an eyebrow at the eye roll he received.

Falcon let out a breath.

"Sorry," He apologised and Glenn nodded in acceptance before speaking again.

"So, how'd you get out?" He questioned before nodding towards Falcon's shoulder. "I'm assuming it has something to with that."

As if only just remembering the wound on his shoulder, Falcon brought a hand up to gingerly touch the spot before wincing.

"Yeah," He took in a deep breath through his nose. "Ryder got us out of there... But he-" Falcon swallowed as the words got caught in his throat. Glenn understood - he'd lost people to the same fate.

"He didn't make it," Falcon's voice was hoarse as he forced the words out, silently mourning the boy he used to call brother.

Glenn nodded, debating on whether or not it was wise to ask him to answer the rest of his questions. Deciding that the two must be exhausted, he stood up from his chair, collecting Freya's empty cup along with his own before bringing them to the kitchen.

The couple sat in silence for a while, Falcon taking slow, measured sips of his coffee in order to avoid having to talk. Freya could feel her eyes aching with the need to sleep, but she forced them open each time they would droop. There was still so much they needed to do before they could finally rest.

Eventually, Freya found the energy to push herself out of her seat before carrying herself out the same door Glenn had gone through. She followed the sounds of running water and found him in the kitchen cleaning up their cups as he hummed to himself.

Still a little shy, Freya cleared her throat lightly in an effort to gain his attention and sighed in relief when his head turned towards her. He sent her a warm smile, shutting off the water and putting the last cup in the drying rack beside the sink.

"Can I help you, love?" He asked gently, fearing that if he spoke too loudly she would get spooked.

"Do you have anything I cou-could wrap his shoulder with?" Freya wrung her fingers together and bit into her lower lip as she waited for his answer.

Glenn nodded, drying off his hands with a tea-towel before leading her back out of the kitchen and to another door - a closet, as she soon found out. She watched quietly as he crouched down, his knees cracking at the action, before pulling out a first aid kit.

He lifted himself back up with a little effort, dusting off his knees before handing the kit to her with a smile.

"That should have anything you need," He said. "But if it doesn't, feel free to come and get me. Falcon will know the way."

Freya nodded gratefully and turned, walking back to the lounge room where Falcon waited. Falcon was staring out the window opposite him as she walked in. He was leaning forward in his seat, elbows rested on his knees, and a frown etched across his features as his hands cradled his cup of coffee. Freya settled herself next to him - on the side of his injured arm - and opened the kit before getting to work.

She innocently tugged the bottom of his shirt up, causing his attention to switch over to her for a moment. He didn't question her this time, simply lifted the shirt up and over his head before resuming his previous position.

Freya took out a few antiseptic wipe packets, tearing them open and cleaning up the skin around the wound before gently soaking up what little blood she could from the wound itself. Falcon didn't flinch once, simply stared vacantly out of the window as she worked on his arm, placing a large bandage over the wound before packing everything back into the kit and dashing back to the kitchen to throw away the rubbish.

Once she returned, she sat next to Falcon, thinking of what kind of thoughts must have been crowding his mind to make his eyes look so sad. She shifted closer, placing a small hand on his bicep before pressing a kiss to the bandage on his shoulder. Falcon's eyes finally turned towards her and she almost teared up at the look in them.

Falcon reached towards Freya, tugging the leg that was furthest from him and guiding it over him. She got the message and settled in his lap, arms over his shoulders as he nuzzled into her neck. Falcon allowed his muscles to relax as he clutched her closer, breathing deeply as he tried to find the courage to speak.

He decided to start at the beginning.

"I never knew my mum," He began and he felt Freya twitch as she shifted her head to hear him better. "I mean, I know I knew her, but I can't really remember what she looked like, or sounded like. I just have random memories; like holding her hand as we walked, or the words to a song she used to sing."

Falcon paused for a moment, tracing mindless patterns on Freya's back as he continued.

"In a way, her death was what started everything," It felt easy to tell Freya this, like a weight off his shoulders. He just hoped he could hold it together for the worse parts. "I guess I have no way

of knowing if it would have happened anyway - maybe it would have, maybe not. But it seems the most logical answer." Freya's brow furrowed as she opened her mouth to ask a question.

"How did she die?" Her fingers that had previously been tracing the line of his jaw, stuttered to a

stop at Falcon's next word.

"Murder."

Fourteen Years Ago

"Come on," 11-year-old Kace whined as he pulled along his younger brother behind him.

Falcon dragged his feet, ignoring the tugs his older brother delivered to his hand. They had walked the entire way home and he was tired. The bag strapped to his back weighed him down and he felt the urge to stamp his feet, cross his arms, and refuse to walk any longer - as five- year-olds often did.

"Falcon," Kace dragged out in a groan. "Come on. We're gonna be late for Mama's birthday." He continued to drag Falcon behind him, irritation lining his young features.

"I swear to God if this is what you're going to be like every time we walk home," Kace trailed off

with a huff.

Falcon took another stepped and pouted as exhaustion filled his body.

"I don't wanna walk anymore, Kacey," He said, feeling the urge to lie on the ground and let his brother drag him back home.

Kace let out a frustrated sigh before stopping and facing his little brother. He placed his hands

on his hips before rubbing a hand down his face.

"Fine," He grunted. "Here, give me your backpack."

He held his hand out for Falcon's backpack and was holding the strap of it within seconds. He shifted his own bag so it hung off a single shoulder before pulling Falcon's bag over the other shoulder. Rolling his eyes in mild annoyance, Kace picked up Falcon - thanking God he was bigger than most kids his age- and carried him the rest of the way home. Upon approaching the steps of their house, Falcon wriggled in excitement and practically jumped out of Kace's arms - narrowly missing the possibility of cracking his head open on the pavement.

Kace blew out a sigh and let his brother run free. He was their parent's responsibility now. Falcon pushed the door open and ran inside, eagerly jumping into the open pair of arms waiting for

him.

"Mama!" His happy cry bounced off the walls and was quickly followed by his mother's laughter. "Hi, baby," She chuckled. "How was my little man's day today, huh?" Falcon began rattling off about the exciting events of kindergarten as his mother smiled and responded in the appropriate places. He was interrupted by a boisterous voice echoing down the hall, igniting a squeal of laughter from the little boy as he was suddenly lifted out of his mother's

arms.

"Ah, our little prince has returned," His father's warm eyes greeted Falcon as he was nestled on

the man's hip. The man's eyes turned to the older boy who finally made his way through the door. "And my little warrior."

Their father grinned and tucked Kace under his arm, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Their mother joined the little group, loosely wrapping her arms around her husband's waist before kissing Falcon's cheek and stroking the side of Kace's face with a gentle hand.

"Happy birthday, Ma," Kace said with a small smile.

His mother grinned in response, excitement lighting her eyes as she began to usher her little

family towards the living room. The small coffee table that sat between two couches was filled with snack foods and presents. Falcon wriggled out of his father's arms and made a beeline towards the chocolate squares that were lying on a silver platter.

His father ruffled his hair on the way to the couch before taking a seat, his wife sitting beside him

and leaning into his side. As the kids munched on their choice of food, their father held out the

first present, a content smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

The afternoon flew by, full of wrapping paper and home-cooked food. The Anders' household was full of love and joy, unaware that it was for the last time.

The home was dark - Falcon and Kace were sleeping like the dead and their parents laid curled

up together with smiles etched on both of their faces.

The resounding noise of the front door slamming open was how it started. It woke Falcon's father who abruptly sat up in bed, one arm still curled around his wife's waist. She stirred in her

sleep

but didn't wake.

The father slipped out of their bed, quietly feeling around for the handle of his bedside drawer before gripping onto it and pulling it open. The silver metal of a handgun glinted in the pale

moonlight and he wasted no time gripping the weapon in his hand and creeping out of the bedroom.

He could hear footsteps making their way through the living room - making no effort to be quiet. A crash from the room made him freeze as ice-cold fear trickled over his skin. What sounded like the tables and chairs were thrown against the ground and the walls, confirming his suspicions.

They had told him that they would collect his dues, whether he willingly gave them or not. He should have expected this.

He pressed himself against the wall as the chaos inside the room continued. Moving forward, he

reached for the door, the gun in his hand shaking with the fear and adrenaline pumping through

his veins.

The door creaked open and he cringed as the noises inside ceased. Before he could react, the

door had swung open to reveal a man - scowling and built like a boulder, he was enough to stop and start the father's heart.

A malicious smirk grew on the man's face as he took in the father's look of terror. Gripping him by the hair, he dragged him inside the room, releasing him to the floor with a rough jerk. The

gun was kicked from his hand before he could blink and a choked breath escaped his lips as his chest clenched.

Men began flowing into the room, others continuing down the hallway towards the bedrooms as a heavy boot was placed on the father's neck, pushing him onto his stomach. The man leaned

over him, the boot shifting from his neck to his shoulder blades. The man gripped onto the

father's hair, pulling his head up slightly so his gaze fell on the open doorway. pair of hands trapped his arms against his back, the painful twisting of his elbows

Another

forcing a cry out of the father's mouth. But nothing could have prepared him for what he saw

next.

A man came into view, dragging a black-haired, green-eyed woman along with him. He held her against his body, one fist tangled in the mess of her hair and the other hand gripped around her wrists as she squirmed and struggled against his hold. The man chuckled, a cruel grin twisting up his mouth.