Rain was coming back home in a few hours.

The crematorium called Lance to let him know that she would be dropped off later in the day. In preparation for her arrival, one of the shelves on the living room's bookcase had been cleared. A space in the center was left open for her urn. To the left, there was a small orange pillow with one of her collars lying on top of it. To the right, two pictures stood beside each other.

One of them depicted the feline as she was in her prime.

There wasn't a speck of gray to be seen in Rain's fur or eyes. Her body was half in the air as she had been jumping to grab a fake mouse toy connected to a plastic rod.

The second photograph was recent.

Thin fur showed patches of light pink skin. Murky eyes were closed. Half of a tiny face was hidden behind both paws and the fluffy end of her long tail. Even with her most defining features being shielded, a little smile could be seen as clear as day.

Lance's gaze lingered on that picture as he dusted some of the other shelves.

Partial attention was on the monotonous humming that came from the central air conditioning. He also listened out for any lingering sounds; something to alert him about a certain someone who was still sleeping down the hall.

It was strange to be up and about before Alessandro.

He was usually the one to initiate breakfast, cleaning, or some other menial task to get the day started. Slight fatigue was routinely cured by a cup of coffee with a splash of French vanilla creamer. Stagnant silence would be overrun by quiet singing alongside a swift pull of the vacuum, or sizzling from one of many nonstick pans. Whatever happened afterwards was always up in the air, but Alessandro usually completed his morning tasks before Lance fully dragged himself out of bed.

It was already two p.m., and dusting in the living room was the only sign of life within the entire household.

Considering the intense disaster that was the night before, it wasn't farfetched to believe that Alessandro's extended sleep was his body's way of getting him to finally slow down.

Too many feelings had been brought into the light at once. Feelings that were continuously pushed down until they erupted.

It was a frightening spectacle to witness. Uncontrollable, too.

On top of everything though, the entire scenario explained a lot more than was actually stated.

The assault didn't just rob Alessandro of his confidence. It robbed him of a multitude of facets he depended on: a positive idea of self worth, comfort, a sense of safety, the ability to fully rely on other people. For years, he tried to patch up his inner wounds with peeling, blood stained bandages.

Now that those coverings had finally fallen off, painful injuries could be given a chance to breathe for once.

It was still going to hurt for awhile. It was still going to be unpleasant. Lance knew certain issues wouldn't just fix themselves over night. This could take months; maybe even several more years to get past.

But there was at least a chance to start honestly mending. A chance to start healing.

Bluish gray eyes surveyed a slightly ajar door at the other end of the house. Shuffling of bed sheets could be heard.

Nodding to himself, Lance set down the duster by leaning the utensil against the entertainment center. He walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed a certain bottle of medication, clutching them tightly in his hand. The capsules inside clinked against each other with every step taken toward the bedroom.

A quiet knock against the doorframe was given before he walked inside.

It was dark.

Radiant sunshine was kept at bay thanks to numerous blackout curtains. Bright rays that managed to sneak in from the tops of closed windows were thin, and they weren't large enough to spread to other parts of the room.

Dirty clothes had been left on the floor by the bed. A balled up comforter had been tossed beside them. As were all of the pillows. Wrinkled sheets were spilling onto hardwood planks with most of the thin fabric still sitting on the mattress' surface.

Alessandro was lying on his side, naked, in a trembling fetal position. One of his hands could be seen clutching at the opposite elbow. Half lidded eyes were staring at a random spot in front of him. Green irises were unfocused. Coupled with not blinking, it was possible that the action was being done subconsciously. He might not have realized it was even happening.

Lance did his best to be gentle when settling a hand atop a quaking shoulder. The action was still met with a harsh flinch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." His thumb caressed heated skin. "I just thought you could use some help with your wakeup routine. Your new meds were delivered earlier, so you can take those when you're ready."

Alessandro nodded. He whimpered when delicate fingertips ghosted across his cheek.

"I'm going to move you, okay? Just to sit you up against the headboard."

He nodded again.

A soft pillow was set near the wooden surface before he was propped against it. Both cheeks were immediately cupped, and a kiss was planted onto his forehead. The affectionate gesture was met with another broken whimper.

"It's okay, I've got you. You don't have to worry about anything."

"...I'm sorry I'm so useless."

"You're not, Andro. These past couple of days have been- they've been a lot. I know that you're hurting, and I know you need time to... I guess settle down would be a better way to put it. I just want you to know that I'm going to be here throughout all of it. I'm not going to let you face this on your own anymore."

Unshed tears threatened to start spilling. "Thank you."

"Always."

Lance took a moment to grab some supplies from the bathroom. Most were set down on a free section of the mattress.

Two paper cups filled with water were placed onto the closest nightstand. A new toothbrush was torn out of its case, plastic packaging being tossed to the side. A small dollop of vibrant blue toothpaste was squeezed onto bright green fibers. Two additional empty cups were placed directly into Alessandro's hands.

He did his best to hold onto them.

"If that's too much, let me know. I'll put them off to the side if you need me to take them."

Lance scooted closer. Slowly, the toothbrush was guided into Alessandro's mouth while his jaw was held open by slender fingers grasping his chin.

The sound of moistened bristles against teeth broke the silence. Neither male moved too much. Small strands of saliva and foam threatened to spill over dry lips, but that issue was easily remedied. Multiple tiresome attempts were made at spitting into one of the empty cups. It was a messy endeavor, but the disposable container served its purpose as a makeshift sink to catch his mess.

One of the full cups was used to rinse, and the other empty one was used for dirty water being spat back out. All three of them, plus all of the teeth care essentials, were brought back into the bathroom to be taken care of.

Lance returned and picked up a dark green paddle brush. Tangled curls were unfurled with great caution. Each stroke was slow. They remained surface level until those bundles were clear. Slight pressure was added to get at the knots hiding deeper inside.

He noticed how a few flakes were left behind by a couple of passes. A mental note was made to plan a relaxing bath for later.

"You still with me, big guy?"

"Mhmm..."

"I'm glad. You're doing so well- I'm really proud of you. There's just a few more things I need to do. After that, we can lay down for awhile. Maybe watch a movie- or listen to some music. If you want to get some more sleep, that's fine too."

"...You don't need to do everything for me."

"I know. But I don't mind giving you a little extra help where you need it." The brush was put down on the nightstand. "Now, I think it'd be good to get you dressed- just so you have something on. Is there anything you want to wear specifically?"

"Something long but thin. I took off all my stuff because I was too hot. At the same time though- I just-"

"Don't want to feel so exposed. I got it."

Lance offered a gentle grin before walking over to the closet to rummage for an appropriate outfit.

Alessandro was momentarily left alone, trapped in the suffocating embrace of his grief-stricken emotions. He didn't have the energy to show just how broken he truly was. Desperate cries and pleas were bellowed in mind. Pure, unspoken, encompassing anger made his chest feel hot. A frightening bout of numbness cloaked a majority of his feelings though, so almost everything was dampened. He felt dampened.

Lax hands pulled into weak fists.

They relaxed just as quickly when light kisses were placed onto each set of knuckles.

"Hope I didn't take too long."

Black joggers were presented alongside an old, stretched out long sleeve in the same color. Fluffy socks had been picked out as well. There didn't seem to be a pair of underwear, but that was fine. The tighter fabric would've felt too constrictive in a matter of seconds. It most likely would've been taken off anyway.

The shirt was easy to put on because he was already sitting up. Unfortunately, the pants needed a little more effort since he'd need to lie down and shimmy to fully get them on.

Lance remained patient. He kneeled down to get socked feet through the loose holes at the bottom.

Breathable fabric felt heavenly on Alessandro's legs because it was cold. A bit bunched up near his knees and thighs, but that didn't pose much of an issue. Once the waistband was high enough, slender hands moved from the back to the sides. The heels of warm palms could be felt through the material as it was dragged upward.

"You don't have to worry about touching me a certain way. You don't make me uncomfortable."

"I know, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. You're still a little... frazzled right now. I don't want to accidentally set you off."

With a halfhearted shrug, Alessandro conceded.

He hadn't thought about such a thing happening, but he was appreciative of the consideration.

Focus was brought back to reality when a certain set of pills were placed into his palm. Despite the relief they would ultimately bring, the presence of his medication made him feel jittery.

Taking them the way he usually did was going to be difficult.

The second cup of water from earlier was presented. "I'd rather you not choke anything down today."

A hum was given in response.

He could admit that he'd grown weary of forcing things down. Perhaps it was a good time to stop.

*

Alessandro was tired.

Lo-fi was pleasant to listen to with bass boosted instrumentals. Central air conditioning had been cranked up, leaving the house at a chilly yet comfortable sixty eight. Baking cookies made the kitchen and living room smell like sugar. Blaring sunbeams were kept at bay via tinted glass panels and additional blackout curtains. Hands weaving through damp curls were heavenly.

But he still felt tired.

There was too much going on in his head. Too many thoughts. Too many emotions. Too many statements he wanted to say and just didn't have the cognitive ability to form anything into clear-cut, verbal sentences.

He was overcome with a tormenting sensation of emptiness. There was still a feeling of sadness, and blinding anger had finally simmered down; but almost every emotion felt... dull. 

Overwhelming grief felt dull.

A dearly beloved yet sadly departed feline wouldn't leave his mind. Constant fear that life was going to fall apart lingered over his shoulder. The unlikely but still possible chance of being abandoned because of his uncoordinated state embraced him with suffocating ferocity.

Mental anguish forced emotional and psychological fatigue to seep outward, morphing into physical exhaustion.

A bleeding heart ached in the confines of a sore, tender rib cage. Strings of bile crawled up Alessandro's parched throat with pointed claws dragging along the reddened walls of his esophagus. Abdominal muscles clenched and twisted, dancing to a random cadence because he hadn't eaten in hours—and he wholeheartedly wasn't in the mood to try.

Trembling fingers grasped at the thin fabric of his sleeves to drive away a slight stinging that came with feeling hypersensitive.

He still hadn't cried over Rain.

Last night's mental breakdown was more because of his reaction to talking about the assault. The loss of his Calico hadn't completely washed over him yet. It was coming, but something was keeping the waterworks from spilling.

Although silent to ensure a peaceful environment, it was easy to see that Lance was worried. His body was stiff despite trying to portray a facade of ease and tranquility. Featherlight grazes tensed every now and again. The occasional leg twitch could be felt before it was purposely, and forcibly, stifled.

Alessandro didn't really understand why these physical reactions were happening, but he had a hunch. "It's okay to not know how to help. It's okay to not know what to do. I need you to understand that."

"...Seems you're just as good at reading me as I am you." Lance chuckled, but his small smile didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be. I know this is out of your element. I'm not normally like this- I don't normally get this bad. You're used to me holding stuff back and carrying everything with a smile. Doesn't matter right now if that's a good or a bad thing. Either way, I don't blame you for not knowing. More than anything, I just appreciate that you're trying."

"I wish I could do more though. I want to do more."

"You're doing enough. And that's all I need right now." Alessandro snuggled into the blanket draped over him. He placed a soft kiss onto the thigh keeping his head propped up. "I know it's a lot. Me just... not being here mentally. Or emotionally. At all, really. I just- I- I'm feeling... detached. From the world. From myself. From reality. I'm just... away. I feel like I'm watching from the sidelines as everything unfolds, so I'm not being given a chance to really get a grip on... anything. I don't know what that means."

Lance switched hands to keep one buried in brunet locks. The other made random circles on the surface of the blanket. "I think you're still holding back to an extent without fully realizing it. I can tell that you want to cry. To scream. But you just... won't. It might be an intuitive habit or something like that. To keep you from feeling too much- which wouldn't be crazy considering you've been doing that for so long."

"I don't know. Maybe."

"...Do you still feel like you need permission?"

"Permission?"

"Last night- you said you weren't allowed to be helped. Like you weren't allowed to reach out. Do you still feel like you need permission to let things out? To really let yourself grieve?"

Alessandro pursed his lips. He knew asking for permission to feel was a silly concept; but the thought of actually receiving it was validating.

Lance wasn't trying to judge. He wasn't trying to tease or poke fun at something that shouldn't have been such a substantial issue. Just based on his tone of voice though, and the genuine sincerity dripping off of every single word he'd spoken so far, it was clear that this situation was serious to both of them.

Before either of them could comment further, however, their moment was interrupted by the doorbell ringing.

Alessandro craned his neck to pick his head up. A fluffy pillow was used to replace the leg he was using for support.

Not wanting to move since he'd finally found some semblance of physical relief within the couch cushions, green eyes took in the sight of socked feet padding across the carpet. They disappeared after a few quick strides. His gaze focused on the television instead.

The lo-fi playlist was coupled with a stunning background displayed on the flat screen. Rolling hills, rippling water, dancing fireflies, and gliding clouds were different hues in a neon color scheme. Blues, greens, purples, pinks, and oranges dotted multiple areas of the image. It looped in a way to make the animation cycle seem never ending. Each slow, calming song brought about a feeling of serenity alongside a nature filled visage.

Together, they gave him a small escape from reality by placing him somewhere peaceful.

"Andro," Lance called from behind the couch, "can you sit up please? And close your eyes?"

Alessandro pouted at the prospect of losing his comfortable position. Not wanting to cause any further issues though, he pushed himself into a seated position with both eyes closed. His body shifted until it was settled against the sofa's back. Clothed legs remained hidden under the warm caress of the handknit blanket resting atop his lap.

He didn't know what was about to happen, so he waited.

Kempt eyebrows furrowed in confusion when something cold and hard was placed into his hands. The fabric of his sleeves left him unable to truly guess what was put in his grasp.

"If you still feel like you need permission, then listen to me. It's okay for you to cry. It's okay for you to scream. It's okay for you to fall apart- because I'm going to be right here to pick up your pieces." Lance's voice began trembling as a hand was placed onto a covered knee. "Please. Hold her. And let it all go."

Alessandro's eyes shot open. His gaze darted to the object in his lap.

Tears began building at a fast pace upon the realization that the brass and marble container in his hands was actually Rain's urn.

She was back. She was home. She was with her family again.

Even though metal was cool against his skin, he didn't shy away from holding the Calico's remains close to his chest. Even if it felt different, he knew that hugging the urn was his way of being able to physically hold Rain again.

That, coupled with Lance's plea, finally made unshed tears fall.

Thick streams running down Alessandro's cheeks became even more rapid when another set of arms wrapped around him.