Content warning: This chapter contains semi-graphic descriptions of child abuse and its effects. Also, this isn't a super accurate representation of the Oregon legal system. I erred on the side of happy endings for everyone. You're welcome.

ONE HOUR AGO

"She'll hate me," Grace said quietly.

Gideon looked at his sister. "No, Evi. She won't. It'll be okay."

The two of them walked together on the road to the Northwest Manor. Edward and the kids had gone up in the car and were already there, but Gideon and Grace had wanted to walk.

"I'm taking you from her, Charlie," Grace said.

"No," Gideon said. "You're not taking me. I'm choosing to stay with you. Mother knows that, and she's willing to let me go. You know this, Evi."

Grace was quiet for a moment. "Even if she's cooperating on the legal side, she could still hate me."

Gideon didn't think there was much chance of that. Geneva was cooperating, so much so that Grace's custody of Gideon was all but official. And it had only been four months — not much time in the legal system. If Geneva helped this go so smoothly, then she probably didn't have any secret hatred.

The siblings kept walking. Gideon couldn't help but smile in the warmth and sunlight. But it was a little stuffy, since he was wearing long sleeves, and Gravity Rises was surprisingly hotter than Oakland. In Oakland's balmy temperatures, he'd almost forgotten how unpleasant it was to wear long sleeves all the time in the summer.

Gideon's stomach flipped. But. . . that unpleasantness would be gone soon. It was strange to think about.

He tried to put that out of his mind, and focus instead on the thought of seeing Geneva. It would be the first time in months that he'd talked to his mother. He'd seen her at her trial, but they didn't get to spend time together, so it didn't count.

Gideon and Grace reached the Northwest Manor. It looked different, but Gideon wasn't sure why. The grounds were still manicured, with the usual topiary the Northwests had in summer (albeit less than average, and in the shapes of supernatural creatures like perytons). And the Manor itself was still clean and bright.

Then he realized what was different. The gates were open.

He walked right in with Grace. The open gates made the Manor feel happy and welcoming. But even so, Gideon's stomach flipped again in fear. The memories of walking back to the Manor to face abuse were popping up in his head.

He tried to calm those memories, along with his heart rate. It's okay, he told himself. Father isn't here. And Mother won't hurt me.

They walked up to the door, where Grace hesitated for a moment. But then she knocked.

The door opened almost instantly.

"Grace, Gideon," said Geneva, a warm smile on her face. "Come on in."

They stepped inside. There was an awkward moment as Geneva looked at her children, and they looked back in uncertainty. Then, "I'm glad you're here," Geneva said. She moved forward to hug Grace.

Grace swallowed and returned the hug.

It was a long embrace. Gideon realized that Geneva and Grace hadn't hugged each other in over six years. From the sounds of their breathing, he was pretty sure they were both crying.

Then they pulled back. "Congratulations on your acquittal, Mother," Grace said.

Geneva smiled again. "Thank you." Then she turned to Gideon. "And thank you for your testimony."

"Of course," Gideon said. He had testified in both of his parents' trials. It had been nerve-wracking, to say the least. But it had been worth it.

"And are you. . . ?" Geneva's smile softened into a look of concern. "Are you doing okay? After your father's conviction?"

Gideon didn't answer right away, taking a moment to think about the question. Then, "Yeah," he said. "I'm doing great."

"Five years is not nearly long enough," Grace said angrily. "Father should've gotten a long sentence like the servants did. Twenty years at least."

"Five years is fine," Gideon said. He'd talked with Grace about this before, so he faced Geneva, to help her see that things really were okay, despite Grace's disapproval. "I'll be nineteen by the time he's released. He won't be able to do anything to me."

Grace folded her arms. "I know. But still."

"It's fine. Really," Gideon said to Geneva.

Geneva smiled again. "I'm glad," she said. Then she opened her arms. "Can I. . . ?"

Gideon stepped forward and hugged his mother. And she held him close. Her arms were stronger than he remembered.

After a long moment, she moved away. "You look great," Geneva said. "I like your glasses. They look nice with your hair."

Gideon automatically reached up to adjust the aforementioned glasses. "Thanks." He was still getting used to wearing glasses again after so many years of wearing contacts, but he liked them. Like Geneva said, the black frames contrasted nicely with his white hair.

"I tried to get him to dye his hair brown again," Grace said to Geneva. "But he wouldn't do it."

"Now, wait a second," Gideon said. "That's not what happened. You brought home cheap hair dye and forced me to let you use it."

Grace conceded that with a nod. "And then it washed out," she told Geneva. "The day after I dyed it, the color completely washed out. Whatever magic turned his hair white, it wants it to stay white."

"I like it," Gideon said, a bit defensively.

"I like it, too," Geneva said. A playful smile danced on her lips.

There was a moment of quiet. Then Geneva opened her mouth to say something — but was cut off. By the sound of a baby crying.

"Oh, Emma," said Grace. "That's her hungry cry." She headed toward the sound.

Geneva looked after her daughter with a fond expression, then followed. Gideon went with them.

The rest of the Prewitts were in one of the sitting rooms. Edward sat on one of the couches with Emma Lynn, Grace's five-week-old baby girl, who was still crying. Joseph sat on the floor by his dad's feet, and Curtis bounced on another couch (thankfully with his shoes off). "Come here, Emma," said Grace, going to take the baby from her husband. Then she left to breastfeed her daughter in a more private room.

Gideon was a little annoyed. Of course Grace had to nurse her baby, and of course Gideon was glad to be here with his family while he waited for that, but still — it meant he would have to wait longer to go out into the forest. To do the big thing he and Grace were planning to do today.

The nervousness returned just thinking about it. He was both impatient to get moving and afraid of what he would find.

Edward, who was talking with Geneva, stopped when he noticed the look on Gideon's face. He had this uncanny ability to know what Gideon was feeling, even when Gideon himself didn't know. It was annoying. . . and nice.

"Hey," Edward said to his brother-in-law, "are you going to be okay?"

Gideon didn't know what to say. He hadn't told Edward what he was planning — and he'd told Grace not to tell him, either. Edward knew that something was going to happen today, but not what that thing was. Gideon didn't want any sympathy. . . or worse, hope.

"Maybe," Gideon eventually said.

"Okay," Edward said. Saying anything else wouldn't be helpful, and he seemed to realize that.

Geneva looked confused at this exchange, but she didn't bring attention to it.

A few minutes later, Grace returned with a happier Emma Lynn in her arms. "That's better," Grace said, handing the baby back to Edward. "Okay. Gideon, are you ready to go?"

Gideon stood up, even though his legs suddenly felt like jelly. "Yes," he said before he could stop himself.

"Where are you going?" said Geneva.

Grace looked to Gideon, letting him answer.

"We'll be back," Gideon said. "We're going to get my amulet. The fairies have it."

"Oh, wonderful," Geneva said. "Have a good time."

Gideon nodded and smiled. But he turned away and left the room before Geneva could notice the nervousness in that smile.

Grace followed him. "You don't want to tell her?"

"After," Gideon said. With how chalky his mouth had suddenly become, that was all he could manage.

Gideon and Grace left the Manor and headed into the forest. The cool shade of the trees was lovely, and Gideon tried to enjoy it instead of focusing on his nervousness. It was great to be back in his forest.

The walk was quiet, with only birdsong and a breeze in the leaves making any sound. Gideon had gotten too anxious to speak.

Eventually, they reached the fairy hollow. Gideon's anxiety was temporarily replaced by joy at seeing such a familiar place, and excitement at what this meant. His amulet was here. He'd missed it so much over the last four months.

A few fairies flew out to greet him. He talked to them for a few minutes — they pretended not to be happy to see him, but he was pretty sure they were. They also knew why he was really here, and a few fairies went to go get the amulet for him from Fidds' secret compartment.

And there it was. Hanging from its straps that two fairies held as they flew. Gideon's amulet.

His anxiety was completely forgotten. The fairies lowered it into his hands.

He could feel it. His amulet. His bond. The amulet hadn't forgotten him. And maybe he was crazy, but it seemed almost as excited as he was.

"Thank you," he said to the fairies.

"Do you want your cape?" asked Grace, pulling it out of her backpack.

Yes, he did! He took the cape and fastened both it and his amulet around his neck. It was here. His amulet was here.

He turned to grin at his sister.

Then he jumped up and flew into the air.

Flying. He was flying again. He made a few loops, laughing with joy.

After a few minutes of enjoying himself, he dropped back down to the forest floor. Grace had longing in her eyes, but she mostly looked happy for her brother. She pulled a sheet of paper from her backpack. "I'll start walking, then," she said, indicating the map she held. "You go ahead and fly."

Some of his joy deflated as his anxiety returned. He nodded mutely.

"You found it," a fairy said. She had flown over to look at map Grace was holding. The fairy smiled at Gideon. "You found the Northwest's Relief."

Gideon managed to smile back. "Yeah," he said. "I did."

And now he and Grace were going to go to it. The anxiety was almost too much to bear.

Grace left the fairy hollow, following Ford's map. Gideon had spent so much time thinking about the route that he was pretty sure he had it memorized. So he flew above the forest, trying to enjoy the feeling of flying again, trying not to be too anxious — or excited — about what was about to happen.

His emotions were too volatile right now. Better to focus on the wind in his hair.

But ignoring his feelings didn't work. The scars that laced his body burned on his skin. Gideon wanted them gone. He wanted to be normal — to wear short sleeves, to play with his nephews without worrying about them hurting him with their rowdiness. But wasn't that too good to be true? Would a simple flower really change things?

And. . . who would he be, without his scars?

Free, said his brain. You'll be free.

But Gideon wasn't sure.

He flew down to check on Grace a few times, making sure she was on the right track. She smiled at him every time. She didn't seem nervous, the way he was — just happy.

And then. . . they reached their destination. There it was. The opening in the ground. The entrance to the cavern.

Gideon landed beside Grace and stared at the opening.

"Are you ready?" Grace asked.

"No," Gideon whispered.

Grace took his hand and squeezed it. "It'll be okay," she said.

Gideon didn't say anything for a moment. Then, "It's not fair," he said. "There are plenty of other people in the world with scars. If I get rid of mine. . . and they can't. . . that's not fair."

"Maybe not," Grace said, "but you have this opportunity. You should take it."

He gave a small nod.

"It won't solve everything, though," Grace warned.

"Yeah. I know." Gideon would still have to deal with the emotional pain. With the nightmares. Bill had been right about the memories haunting Gideon, even if the demon himself was gone.

But if Gideon didn't have physical pain. . . maybe the other things would be more bearable.

"Come on," Grace said. "Let's go down there."

So together, the siblings stepped into the hole and slid down the dirt slope into the cavern. The sunlight of the forest was instantly replaced with darkness.

But then a purple-blue glow appeared, and Gideon's eyes adjusted to the new light. 

And there were the flowers. They spread across the cavern floor, all glowing softly, calmly, beautifully.

"Wow," Grace whispered. Then, "Look." Gideon followed her pointing finger to see a stone, lying in the dirt, etched with three words:

The Northwest's Relief.

Gideon felt tears come to his eyes.

"Go ahead, Charlie," said Grace.

A stone dropped in his stomach, and Gideon fell to his knees. His hands were shaking. Could he do it? Would this really work?

Gingerly, he unbuttoned his left shirt sleeve, and peeled it back.

Revealing the scars on his arm.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

He could do this.

A bright blue gel oozed from the flowers' petals. Gideon reached out with his right hand, dipped his fingers in the gel, brought his hand over to his bare arm. The hand hovered there. He couldn't bring himself to go all the way.

But then a drop of gel fell from his fingers.

And landed on one of his scars.

Gideon gasped.

A feeling of comfort, of relief, spread through his arm. It was like the feeling of putting aloe vera gel on a burn, except. . . better. Stronger.

And the scar. . . disappeared.

Gideon looked up at Grace. Her eyes were wide, and so were his. That felt. . . that felt wonderful. And if that was just the first time. . .

The tears in his eyes suddenly multiplied. And Gideon started sobbing.

With relief.

Grace knelt beside him and pulled him into a hug. But Gideon pushed her away — he had to get more of this gel. He dipped his fingers in the gel over and over again, going from flower to flower, spreading the healing balm on his arm. The cool, soothing sensation compounded, and more of his scars disappeared. Sobbing, laughing, crying out with unintelligible words, Gideon kept going. Kept reaching out for more relief. It was working. It was working.

For ten minutes, he kept at it. Spread the gel on his left arm up to his elbow. Then pull back his right sleeve. Spread the gel on his right arm.

And that was all he could do. The soothing feeling was overwhelming — beautifully overwhelming. Gideon sat back, still sobbing, and wrapped his arms tightly around himself.

His smooth, bare arms.

Grace had pulled out a few bottles, which they'd brought to capture more of the gel for later. But when Gideon sat back, she put the bottles down and hugged her brother.

Gideon sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed.

In the arms of his sister.

Surrounded by the flowers that granted him relief.