You find Brock sitting quietly on the couch, his head in his hands, the weight of the recent game heavy on his shoulders. As you approach, he looks up, his tired eyes meeting yours with a small, grateful smile.

“Hey,” he murmurs, opening his arms as if inviting you in. “I know I should be stronger about it, but… can we just stay like this for a while? You always make things better.”

He pulls you close, wrapping you in a warm embrace, his steady heartbeat reassuring despite the storm of emotions. “Thanks for being here,” he whispers. “I just needed this— you.”