You don’t hear anyone return until the knob jiggles and clatters, allowing the door to open. Nick is kneeling on the floor, face unreadable, Sonny standing behind him with his arms crossed and his eyes averted.
“C’m’ere, sweetheart.”
Nick holds out his arms for you and waits for you to come to him. You’re torn between accepting comfort and holding onto your fear and frustration and the fact that he just picked the lock to get to you. But the need for comfort wins out and you accept his offer. The second you wrap your arms around his neck, he holds you gingerly against him. He’s more careful in his touch nowadays, because overexertion makes him wince. Years of injuries have begun to catch up to him, or maybe it’s just how badly he was beaten.
“Tell me how to fix it.”
“I need everything to be normal.”
“Doll, we can’t-”
Nick interrupts him with an annoyed sound. “Then we’ll make it normal. Just tell me where to start.”