Every night, with out fail, Gold would drag Red down the mountain and back home, where he was promptly fed and bathed. Gold chattered through the stoic silence of his partner as if nothing had changed. Only when Red was finally put into bed, lights off, cheek kissed and all tucked in like he was three again, did Gold's smirk fade away and his eyebrows crunch up in worry.

And every morning, without fail, he would wake up with the spot next to him empty and cold. Red would be back up the mountain, and Gold would cry silently in their bed.