| Flashback: Just a little more than eight years ago. |
[14 May 2009|05:56am] |
Kristoff would, when asked by certain parties about how well he thought the past three months had gone, say that at least the mechanically and magically locked-down padded cell in the basement hadn't been necessary.
In truth? He'd come to absolutely adore his high-handed, defiant little brother. It still wasn't clear if Vincent had come to accept the term, but Kristoff didn't -- well, he cared, but he could live with even being considered some sort of castoff servant with weird issues for the time being, if that was what was going on in the much-younger boy's mind. Kristoff would still be his brother.
It was a quiet afternoon. The Richardses had taken their children on a family outing for the day. Grimm was settling into the home he had recently acquired for his 'retirement'. Storm had a date. Quiet indeed.
But then something was happening in the lobby. He pulled up the appropriate screens and, just for a moment, froze.
Then Kristoff headed straight down there.
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