The vacation was supposed to be simple.
Two families. One lake. A cabin tucked into the woods like a secret waiting to be remembered.
Claire Knight had hoped it would give Alexander a break from the strange attention he'd been drawing. Claire Dunphy, meanwhile, saw it as a rare chance for the kids to unplug. Phil just wanted to light fireworks off the dock.
What none of them knew was that the trip would leave a mark none of them could erase.
Arrival at the Lake
The moment they arrived, Alexander felt the change in the air. The silence was different out here — not empty, but full of things hidden beneath it. He didn't say anything, but Claire noticed the way he tilted his head every few minutes, as if listening to something far away.
Haley noticed too.
"Is your brain scanning wildlife frequencies or something?" she teased.
"Something like that," he replied, quiet.
That night, the two families sat around the fire, roasting marshmallows. The Dunphys laughed loudly; the Knights laughed softly. Alexander watched the flames and took mental notes on how they danced.
Thomas leaned over to Claire and whispered, "He's calmer here."
Claire nodded, though her fingers gripped her wine glass just a little too tightly. "For now."
The Attack
The next afternoon, Haley dragged Alexander out for a walk.
"Let's go explore. There's a creek down the trail," she said, already holding two water bottles and a camera.
Alexander hesitated. "It's off the property."
"Yeah," she smirked. "That's the fun part."
The woods were quiet. Birds chirped. Leaves crunched beneath their feet. Alexander noticed a set of deer tracks, then a gap in the birdsong that made his skin prickle.
"We should turn around," he said suddenly.
Haley rolled her eyes. "We just got here."
"No," he said, eyes narrowing. "Something's wrong."
And then they heard it.
A low growl. Long. Vibrating. Primal.
They both froze.
A cougar stepped from the brush — lean, tan, eyes locked on them. It was only thirty feet away. And closing.
"Haley," Alexander said without turning, "run."
"What—"
"Run!"
She bolted.
The cougar lunged.
And Alexander moved.
He didn't think. He didn't calculate. He simply launched himself at the beast, intercepting it mid-pounce. The two collided in a blur of motion and claws and screams.
The Fight
Phil and Thomas heard it first — the scream that didn't sound like a child's.
By the time they and Claire Knight reached the trail, they found Haley, sobbing and blood-covered, trying to drag Alexander's limp body from the underbrush.
He was barely breathing.
The cougar was dead.
Its throat had been torn open by a broken branch — still clutched in Alexander's hand.
His shirt was ripped. His chest was torn open. Deep lacerations across his ribs, neck, and side.
Haley was screaming.
So was Claire.
Claire Knight dropped to her knees, sobbing, clutching her son's face. "Stay with me, baby. Please—please—don't leave me."
Phil took off his shirt, pressing it to the wound. "We need an ambulance! We need—he's not—he's—"
Thomas knelt beside his wife, voice shaking. "Come on, son. You've survived everything else."
The Hospital
Alexander went into surgery within the hour.
He didn't wake up.
The Coma
Days passed.
He remained still, intubated, bandaged, pale.
Machines beeped. IVs dripped.
Claire Knight never left his side.
She sat by the bed, sketching his hands in a notebook because it was the only thing she could still do for him.
Thomas stood at the window most days, speaking to no one.
Across the hall, Haley refused to go home. She had a chair in the hallway. She hadn't changed clothes in two days.
Claire Dunphy brought her food. Phil brought her a stuffed bear and a blanket.
"No one's ever done that for me," she said, voice cracked and eyes bloodshot.
"What?" Phil asked.
"Fought something like that. Bled like that. For me."
He didn't know what to say.
Doctor's Report
On the third day, a specialist approached the Knights and Dunphys together.
"I… can't explain his recovery rate," the doctor said carefully. "There was nerve damage. He should've lost mobility. But it's… repairing."
Thomas narrowed his eyes. "How fast?"
The doctor hesitated. "Too fast."
Claire Knight's heart pounded.
"I'll need to file this," the doctor continued. "There are protocols for unusual neurological resilience. Cognitive baselines. Federal-level interest."
Claire stepped forward, eyes sharp.
"No. He's a child. My child."
Phil placed a hand on her shoulder. "We'll protect him."
And in that moment, the Knights and Dunphys became more than neighbors.
They became a wall.
Flashback – Haley's Confession (Beside His Bed)
Haley finally went in to see him.
She sat by his side, knees drawn up to her chest, eyes wide and trembling.
"I hated you sometimes," she whispered. "You made me feel stupid. You talked like an alien."
She sniffed.
"But you never laughed at me. You never looked down on me. You… you listened. Even when I didn't make sense."
Her fingers curled around his.
"You saved my life."
A pause.
"And I don't know what I'd do if I lost yours."
The Awakening
Alexander opened his eyes on the sixth day.
The first thing he saw was the ceiling.
The second was Haley, curled up in the chair, asleep, clutching his hand like she'd never let go.
He didn't speak.
But he squeezed her fingers.
And she woke up
The families went home weeks later, changed.
Alexander didn't speak of the attack much. But his eyes were different now — not afraid. Not hardened. Just… older.
The Knights kept closer to the Dunphys. Family dinners became more frequent. Game nights. Walks.
Whatever came next — the aptitude tests, the interviews, the quiet calls from nameless government agencies — it would not shake the bond forged in blood and fear.
Haley stuck close to him.
And he let her.
Because he knew now that even if he could survive the world, he didn't want to face it alone.