you had been on a run, trying to get everything off your mind and it worked for a while until you stopped to catch your breath finally. your lungs burned, your legs trembling, grief and anger leaking out of you with every step like sweat. the walter house, the noise, the celebration banners for nathan taped crooked in the kitchen — you couldn’t breathe in it anymore.

you paused, looking up and noticing… you didn’t know where you were.

trees crowded in on all sides, birch trunks pale like bones against a sky that had turned the color of bruises. you sighed softly, fingers numb as you turned on your phone.

no signal.

only one bar. damnit. maybe you could get one call through?

your mom was gone. your dad was gone. the people who used to be your emergency contacts were names that echoed now instead of answered. your throat tightened at the thought.

you figured you’d call the walter house, you were living there anyway, right?

the phone rang.

cole sighed softly, leaving the welcome home for nathan celebration and picking up the phone. “walter residence.” he spoke quietly, a little exhausted. maybe wondering where you were.

great. cole had picked up. this was the last thing you needed.

you considered hanging up but your mouth moved before your brain caught up. “i’m, um… i’m lost. i don’t— i don’t know where i am.” you admitted before you looked up, the clouds looked gray. “and i think it’s going to thunder.”

silence, then his breath, sharp and focused, like something in him snapped awake. “hold on, tell me what you see,” he murmured into the phone, already moving.

“umm, birch trees? everywhere?” you said, a little freaked out now. the air felt heavy, buzzing. it was getting darker by the minute.

“i know exactly where you are, hold on—” he said as he scrambled, keys clattering. “i’ll be right there in a minute. don’t move.”

the line went dead, and you hugged the phone to your chest like it might keep you anchored.

you thought about the things he’d said at katherine’s award ceremony, words slurred and cruel, spilling out because he was drunk and hurting and didn’t know how to stop. you thought about how vengeance wasn’t yelling back, wasn’t leaving, but surviving. learning to enjoy again. learning to hope, even when it felt stupid.

thunder cracked overhead.

when cole found you, rain was starting to fall, slicking your hair to your face. his truck skidded to a stop and he was out before the engine cut, breathless, eyes wild like he’d been afraid he’d be too late. “hey,” he said softly, like loud would break you.

you laughed once, shaky. “guess i should’ve updated my emergency contact.”

his jaw tightened. “you are.”

that stopped you.

“you were mine,” he added, quieter. “even when i messed everything up.”

rain soaked through both of you as he shrugged his jacket around your shoulders anyway, hands careful, reverent. you stood there, balanced on something sharp and thin, knowing you could fall or you could stay.

you leaned into him, just a little.

back at the house, alex was pacing, worried sick, and nathan was asleep on the couch, alive, breathing, here. life was still fragile. therapy was still tiring. loving people still hurt.

later, you ended up on the couch, lights low, thunder fading into distance. cole passed out in the chair across from you, exhaustion finally winning.

you watched him, heart aching, and thought about happily ever afters and how messy the beginning always was.

you didn’t need him to save you.

you just wanted him to be your emergency contact.