Before the vehicles had even come to a complete stop, Matthew and John jumped out and bolted for the prison gate. Their hair was a mess, their clothes wrinkled from twelve hours on the road. It had clearly been a long trip, but neither of them looked tired. Just wired, bursting with something they couldn't sit still through.
Clementine watched them sprint toward the fence. She didn't need an introduction to know who they were—the expressions on their faces said it plainly enough. Max's father. His uncle. Any doubt vanished the moment Max broke into a run to meet them, and she hurried after him without thinking, the others close behind.
The instant Matthew and John saw him running, they froze.
For one impossible heartbeat, it felt as though their hearts had stopped.
He'd changed so much.
Taller now. Broader. He carried himself with a quiet confidence that hadn't been there before, yet there was a weight in his eyes, a stillness that only hardship could leave behind. They didn't need him to say a word to know life hadn't been kind to him, and that realization alone made their chests ache.
And yet there was no mistaking him.
He was still Max.
Tears welled in both men's eyes as they waited for the gate to swing open, watching it move with agonizing slowness. For one reckless second, John seriously considered climbing it.
Common sense won.
Barely.
The moment the gate opened, they found themselves face-to-face with him.
Max stood frozen, caught somewhere between nervousness and overwhelming joy.
John instinctively stepped forward to grab his son, then stopped. Without a word, he stepped aside and let Matthew go first.
He knew his little brother needed this more than he did.
Matthew threw his arms around Max and held on as though letting go would make him disappear.
"Max... it really is you."
His voice cracked.
"I'm so, so sorry for leaving you there. It was my fault. Please... please forgive me."
The rest dissolved into sobs as years of guilt poured out all at once, as though he were trying to make up for every missed day in a single embrace.
John wrapped both of them in his arms from behind.
"Quit crying like a baby," he said, laughing through a trembling voice. "You'll make Max uncomfortable."
Tears streamed freely down his own face, and he wiped at them in a futile attempt to pretend nobody noticed. He hadn't seen his brother smile through tears like that in years.
The three of them stayed wrapped together for what felt like forever. None of them wanted to be the first to let go, as though breaking the embrace would turn the whole thing into a dream.
Finally, Max's muffled voice came from somewhere in the middle.
"Dad... Uncle... could you let go? I can't breathe."
Neither of them moved.
Then they looked at each other, realized what they were doing, and released him at the same time.
Max sucked in a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck.
All three of them burst into relieved laughter.
"Max..." John looked him up and down, unable to hide the pride in his voice. "You've grown so much. You're taller than me now. I remember when you barely came up to my chest."
He rested a hand on Max's shoulder.
"Look at you. Tall. Strong."
The frail little boy he remembered was gone.
"If only Ava were here to see you," Matthew said quietly, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "She'd be over the moon."
The words landed harder than he'd intended, and regret crossed his face almost immediately.
"...Yeah," Max said softly. "I miss Mom."
Silence settled over them.
Finally, Matthew cleared his throat.
"We searched everywhere for you. Where'd you go after we got separated?"
"Savannah."
"What?" John blurted.
"I remembered Dad saying he wanted to go there someday. I thought... maybe you'd gone there."
John's face drained of color.
"Max, Savannah was being bombed. Why would you go there?"
He was already checking his son for injuries.
"I'm fine!" Max laughed, gently pushing his father's hands away. "Stop—you're gonna tickle me."
John reluctantly lowered his hands.
"I survived because I hid in the sewer tunnels while it happened."
Silence.
Matthew and John exchanged a look as guilt deepened in both their eyes. Just imagining Max alone beneath the city made their hearts ache.
In that quiet moment, each made the same silent promise.
Never again.
Whatever it cost.
"And what happened after that?" Matthew asked.
"After I left Savannah, I headed—"
Max stopped as footsteps approached behind him.
He turned.
The instant he saw Clementine, his entire face lit up.
"I'll tell you the rest later," he said. "There's someone I want you to meet."
John and Matthew exchanged an amused look.
They recognized that expression immediately.
Max used to wear that exact smile whenever he wanted to show off a drawing or something he'd found in the yard.
Curious, they watched him walk over to the young woman in the worn baseball cap, take her hand, and gently lead her back.
"Dad. Uncle."
He smiled proudly.
"This is Clementine."
Then he looked at her.
"Clem... this is my dad and my uncle."
Clementine had been nervous before.
Now she was terrified.
"U-um... h-hello, sir," she stammered with a strained smile. "I'm Clementine. It's... it's nice to meet you."
Every introduction she'd rehearsed a hundred times vanished.
Under both men's gaze, she instinctively took half a step behind Max, using him as a human shield.
John chuckled.
"So... is she your friend, or—"
"Your girlfriend?" Matthew finished with a grin.
Clementine shrank even farther behind Max.
His ears turned bright red, proving he was just as capable of embarrassment as she was.
The sight only made the two older men grin wider.
"So this lovely young lady's your girlfriend?" John asked warmly. "You've done well, son."
"Gotta agree," Matthew said. "Beautiful girl."
Clementine wished the ground would swallow her whole.
Every speech she'd rehearsed was gone, and she mentally kicked herself for freezing.
Max noticed.
Without saying a word, he stepped aside so they could see her clearly, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close.
A proud smile crossed his face.
"No, Uncle Matthew."
He glanced warmly at Clementine.
"She's more than my girlfriend."
John and Matthew exchanged puzzled looks.
"What do you mean?"
"She's my wife."
"...WHAT?!"
Both men shouted at once.
Matthew genuinely wondered if he'd misheard.
John leaned forward as though standing closer might somehow change the answer.
"Wait... what did you say she was?"
"She's my wife," Max repeated without missing a beat.
John blinked.
The brothers slowly turned to stare at one another.
A long silence followed.
"Did you hear him say wife?" John asked.
Matthew nodded.
Then both of them looked back at Max, half-convinced they had stepped into a dream. The little boy they'd lost years ago now stood before them, grown, married, introducing his wife as casually as if it were nothing.
They turned to Clementine.
"So..." John said, sounding stunned by his own words. "She's my daughter-in-law?"
Max nodded proudly.
"Yeah."
Relief washed over Clementine.
He hadn't hesitated.
He hadn't hidden her.
From the looks on their faces, they didn't dislike her.
She let out a slow breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.
For a long moment, neither man spoke.
Disbelief hung so thick it became awkward.
Matthew finally broke the silence.
"I cannot believe the baby whose diapers I used to change is married. Aren't you a little young for this? And when the hell did this even happen?"
"That's not important right now, Matthew."
John stepped closer, his expression turning serious.
"Clementine."
She straightened.
"Are you happy with my son?"
She gathered her courage and met his eyes.
"Yes. I love your son, and I'm happy with him."
John smiled.
Not because of what she'd said, but because she'd looked him straight in the eye when she said it.
He gave a quiet nod.
It wasn't her manners that impressed him.
It was her courage.
"Max?" Matthew asked.
"What about you?"
"I love her."
He didn't hesitate.
"I'm very happy with her."
The brothers exchanged a glance and silently came to the same conclusion.
"Well then," John said with a smile, "if you're both happy, I won't object."
He leaned toward Matthew and whisper.
"I feel like I'm going to become a grandfather sooner than I expected."
Matthew nodded, already lost in the thought.
"Maybe a few years yet, but I can't wait to hold Max's kid and be called Great-Uncle."
The two brothers drifted into the same daydream, already imagining themselves hopelessly wrapped around a toddler's finger.
Max heard every word.
He smiled.
"You don't have to wait."
Both men looked at him.
"You're already a grandfather..."
He rested a hand on Clementine's belly pump.
"...and a great-uncle."
Casually, as though commenting on the weather, he added:
"We're having twins."
Clementine's face instantly turned scarlet.
She wanted to disappear, yet she couldn't stop the small smile creeping onto her face. Looking anywhere but at them, she lowered her gaze to the ground.
A split second later, two loud thuds echoed across the yard.
John and Matthew had collapsed face-first into the dirt.
Unconscious.
Clementine stared at them.
Then slowly turned toward Max.
"...Did we break your family?"
Max glanced down at his unconscious father and uncle without the slightest concern.
"Probably."