Sage stood on the porch of their Seattle home, his gaze lingering on the rain-soaked garden where memories of laughter and childhood games were etched into every corner. Beside him, his sister, India, hummed a familiar tune, her eyes reflecting the lush greenery of their surroundings. It had been ten years since the night that changed everything, ten years since the loss of Mama and Papa in a senseless car accident.

Sage had been on the cusp of his dream at Embry-Riddle University when the devastating news reached him. The decision to leave was immediate, his dreams of space receding into the background as the reality of his new role settled in. He returned to Seattle, to the home where he and India had grown up, a place filled with echoes of their parents' laughter and wisdom.

Moving back to Seattle had been more than a practical choice; it was a promise to India that her world wouldn't be upended more than it already had. The insurance had taken care of the house, a small solace in a sea of grief and responsibility. Sage had stepped into the role of caregiver and protector, shouldering the weight of their loss and the intricacies of navigating life with India's unique needs.

India, brilliant and resilient, had faced her challenges with a strength that often left Sage in awe. She had grown, her understanding of the world expanding, yet there were still moments when she seemed lost in the vast complexities of life. Sage had become her anchor, the constant in a world that sometimes spun too fast for her to catch.

"Sage?" India's voice broke through his thoughts. "Do you miss it? The stars, I mean."

He turned to her, his heart heavy with unspoken dreams. "Sometimes, India. But then I remember I have something more important right here." He gestured around them, encompassing the home, the memories, and, most of all, his sister.

India smiled, her expression filled with a wisdom that belied her years. "You're the best brother. You gave up so much for me."

He pulled her into a gentle hug. "You're worth it, India. Every bit of it."

India stiffened slightly in his embrace, a subtle reminder of her discomfort with physical touch. Sage was always mindful of this, aware that such gestures, though meant in love, could be overwhelming for her. He felt her squirm gently, a silent signal that she had reached her limit. Respectfully, he released her, stepping back to give her the space she needed. It was a dance they had perfected over the years, a balance between expressing affection and respecting boundaries.

India offered a small, grateful smile, her eyes shining with understanding and love. "Thanks, Sage," she said softly, her voice carrying a note of appreciation for his awareness of her needs, just as she still carried the stuffed hippo Mama had gotten her that one time at the zoo. It was worn and ragged, but sage kept sewing it up whenever it needed to be fixe. It was more of a hippo of Theseus that the original stuffed animal, but India didn’t care.

In that moment, Sage felt a surge of pride and love for his sister. Their journey together had taught him more than any classroom or distant galaxy ever could. He had learned patience, empathy, and the true depth of unconditional love. India, with her unique view of the world, had been his greatest teacher.

As they stood side by side, watching the rain ease into a gentle mist, Sage knew that their bond was unbreakable. Together, they would navigate the challenges and joys of life, each learning from the other, growing stronger with every step they took on this shared path.

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As they stood there, the rain easing into a gentle drizzle, Sage realized that his dreams hadn't died; they had transformed. He had found a different kind of purpose in the love and care of his sister. The stars would always be there, a distant, shimmering reminder of what could have been. But in this life, in this moment, he was exactly where he needed to be, where he wanted to be.

The evening settled around them, a quiet, peaceful cocoon. Sage and India, two souls bound by loss, love, and an unbreakable bond, faced the future together, their journey intertwined like the roots of the old oak in their backyard. In the heart of Seattle, in the home that held their past and cradled their future, they found their own universe, vast and beautiful in its simplicity and depth.

As they stood side by side, watching the rain, Sage's thoughts drifted to his work-from-home job at Boeing. It wasn't the astronautical career he had once envisioned, but it kept him connected to the aerospace world he loved. He reflected on the journey that led him here, the path altered yet fulfilling. Finishing his degree at UW a couple of years after the accident had been a significant milestone, one that allowed him to pursue a meaningful career while being there for India. He had carved out a niche for himself, contributing to projects that, in some small way, touched the stars he once longed to explore.

Sage's eyes moved from the rain to the garden, a project that had become a symbol of their growth and resilience. "You know, India," he said, his voice tinged with nostalgia, "working from home has its perks. I get to be around this," he gestured to their home and garden, "and most importantly, be here with you."

India, understanding the unspoken sentiment, nodded, her eyes reflecting the beauty of their shared space. "It's nice having you around," she replied, her tone conveying the depth of their bond.

The rest of the conversation flowed naturally, touching upon India's job at the Children's Hospital. She was a caregiver, of sorts. “And you," Sage turned to India, his voice warm with admiration, "your job at Children's Hospital, bringing those animals to the kids... it's amazing, India. You bring so much joy to them. Any good stories today?"

India's face lit up at the mention of her work. "I like seeing their smiles," she said, her tone reflective. "The animals make them happy. And me too. Today we got our first volunteer snake. The family of the snake, named Sylvia, they asked if kids might want to something besides the usual dogs and cats. I worked with Sylvia all day - she’s a boa, and she’s funny!" Her job, though challenging, was a source of immense satisfaction for her. She had a special connection with the animals, an understanding that transcended words, and the children sensed and responded to that.

The conversation drifted to their garden, a labor of love that had become their joint project. "Remember when we first started it?" Sage asked, gesturing towards the lush beds of vegetables and flowers. "We didn't know anything about gardening."

India laughed, a sound as clear as the rain. "We killed so many plants."

"But look at it now," Sage said proudly. "We learned together. It's like our own little Eden."

The garden had become more than just a hobby; it was a symbol of their growth, of life continuing in the face of loss. It was a space where they could connect, work side by side, and witness the tangible results of their care and dedication.

Sage hesitated for a moment before broaching a new topic. "There's something else I wanted to talk to you about," he said, his voice tinged with a hint of nervousness. "I've been seeing someone."

India turned to him, her expression curious. "Really? Who?"

"Her name's Eliza," Sage said, the name bringing a soft smile to his face. "She's kind, smart, and she understands our situation here. I really like her, India."

India studied him for a moment, her eyes thoughtful. "Does she make you happy?" she asked seriously.

Sage nodded. "Yeah, she does."

"Then I'm happy too," India said, her acceptance simple and sincere. "Can I meet her?"

"Of course," Sage replied, relief and joy mingling in his voice. "I was hoping you'd say that."

They stood together, the last of the drizzle giving way to a clearing sky.