Aerrow was feeling tired; tired and…sad. He felt heavy, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. And, in a way, it was. He was the sky knight of the storm hawks, a rag-tag group of teens who were the last hope for a free Atmos. And as their leader, Aerrow was the main thing standing between the world and its destruction.

That was the weight pressing down on him, like an anvil strapped to his back. But he still forced a smile on his face all the same. He couldn't let the sadness show in his eyes. As the leader, he had to be strong, for his team, and for Atmos. If he showed weakness, it could be dangerous. Any signs of slacking on his part, and the cyclonians could take advantage of that and…well, he just couldn't shift the team's priorities just for his sake anyway.

He wasn't sure how he got through the day, but he did. Well, through most of it anyway. It helped that the others had decided to play a few rounds of keep-away. It was one of his favourite games. Had they noticed that he was feeling down? No, he was probably imagining it. But then, this afternoon, there had been a short report on the TV about the war. Aerrow had forgotten: it was the anniversary of the Battle to End All Battles; the battle that had taken place 11 years ago by now…the battle where his father had died.

After the report, during which there had been a slideshow showing the victims of that dreadful battle, the others had looked over at him. Aerrow's fingers had been clenched, holding onto the fabric of his pants. They were trembling slightly. Aerrow was staring at the floor. There was a lump in his throat that he couldn't swallow, and a painful throb in his temples. He felt Radarr climb onto his lap, whimpering sympathetically. Normally, this would've comforted Aerrow, but now he hardly felt the soft pressure of the animal's paws. A finger tapped his shoulder. A voice asked:

"Um, Aerrow? Are you okay?"

The sound seemed to bring him back to life. He looked to his right. It was Finn. His blue eyes, usually joking and filled with immature, yet lovable glee, were shining with deep concern. The sight nearly brought tears to Aerrow's leaf-colored eyes.

"I'm alright." he said, his voice hoarse and totally unconvincing, putting a hand to his forehead. "Just got a bit of a headache."

"You sure?" Junko asked.

Aerrow bit his lip and nodded. Radarr gave another small whine as the redhead stood up and walked out of the room, aware of the others' eyes on him, seeming to bore right into his soul.

Finally, he reached his room. The door shut behind him as he plopped down on his bed and let out a long shaky breath. The one he drew in was just as tremulous, and you could almost hear the wetness in it. He blinked rapidly, trying to dispel the few rebellious tears trying to make their way up.

He took off his gloves and stared at his hands. They were soft hands, young hands, not as calloused as those of older, more experienced sky knights, with slightly roughened palms due to wearing those gloves all the time. But now, they were shaking, even more than before.

Then, he looked over at his bedside table, which was actually just a crate, seeing as they didn't have the money to buy actual bed-side tables. On it were his headphones. Aerrow slipped them over his ears and turned them on. As the song started to play, the boy curled up closer to the wall, part of his face hidden in his pillow, feeling vulnerable and scared. He wrapped an arm around himself. He remembered how his parents used to hold him, their arms tight around him, their warm embrace filled with unconditional love. He wished that he could be held like that again. And for the first time in a long while, hot tears trailed slowly down his cheeks as he cried.

A minute or so later, there was a knock on his door. Aerrow had turned over so that his back was facing the door. He couldn't let the others see him crying. Another knock. Then a voice spoke, slightly muffled from the door:

"Aerrow? It's me, Piper. You…seemed kind of down today, I mean, even before that report. Is everything okay?"

Aerrow's eyes widened. Of course she had noticed how upset he was. She the most observant person he knew. The boy squeezed his eyes shut; praying that Piper would think she'd made a mistake. No such luck: she knocked again. He pressed his headphones closer to his ears to muffle the sound and held his breath, hoping beyond hope that she might give up and go away.

But Piper wasn't like that, and he knew it. Instead of leaving, she pressed the button that opened the door. He couldn't face her. Maybe she would think he was asleep. But a small sniffle escaped his nose as he took a small breath, totally blowing whatever cover he'd had. He felt more than heard her walk slowly over to his bed. He felt the bed tip just slightly as she sat beside him. He felt her hand touch his arm. Then there was the sensation of her fingers tenderly stroking through his hair. He opened his eyes, knowing he'd been caught. Piper gently removed his headphones, laying them on the bedside table/crate, as he turned his head to look at her.

Piper had never seen Aerrow cry before. Ever. Once or twice in her life, she'd seen him wipe his face with the back of his hand because he "had something in his eye". And once she swore she saw wetness in his emerald-like orbs. But those had been happy times; times when she herself blinked back tears of joy. She had cried before, when she was younger and her mind was plagued by nightmares of her parents' deaths and the destruction of her terra. And in those times, it had been Aerrow who had raced over to her bedside, who had held her reassuringly, who had told her over and over that she was okay, that everything was going to be alright, that it was just a bad dream. All those times, it was Aerrow who was a hand for her to hold, a shoulder for her to cry on, a friend who she could trust and feel safe with. All those times, it was Aerrow who had been the strong one.

But now, it was Aerrow who was crying. It was Aerrow whose eyes were red and puffy with tearstains on his cheeks. It was Aerrow who was sad, scared, vulnerable and broken. It was Aerrow who needed reassurance, who needed to be held, who needed to feel safe, who needed to feel loved. Aerrow needed someone to be strong for him. And Piper was happy to comply.

She smiled sweetly as he looked up at her, her eyes filled with almost motherly love. Aerrow dipped his head and closed his eyes, feeling ashamed for crying in front of the crystal mage. But Piper just wrapped her arms around him, gently helping him turn around. She smiled at him even more tenderly. She didn't say anything. She didn't have to. Aerrow laid his head down, crying freely now, his shoulders shaking with gentle sobs. Piper, kneeling beside the bed, held him close, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Her arms were gentle and strong, and her embrace was warm and loving, exactly how Aerrow remembered his mother's was, perhaps even better. As he cried, Piper whispered tender words, comforting words that mirrored those his parents would say to him when they held him like this.

And the memories made Aerrow cry even more, and the more he cried, the more Piper comforted him. He clung to her, his face buried in her shoulder. He briefly thought about how his tears were soaking her shirt, but Piper didn't seem to mind. She held him even tighter, softly humming a lullaby and gently rocking him.

When Aerrow's tears finally subsided, he looked up at Piper again. It was late, and she had never left his side. A single pearly tear quivered on his lashes. She brushed it away with a finger. Then she went to his closet and took out the extra blanket and draped it over him. After she tucked him in, she kissed his forehead. Aerrow sighed and closed his eyes, opening them again, even as they were burning with fatigue. She smoothed his face until he fell asleep.

Morning washed through Aerrow's room with a beautiful golden glow. The rays touched Aerrow's face, and as his eyes fluttered open like moths, he felt lighter. Much lighter. It was as though the great weight he'd felt yesterday had been lifted from his burden. Whatever spell of sadness had been upon him was gone. He stretched luxuriously, like a cat, and a smile graced his face. A real smile; his own true smile that he bore so often. He then noticed that he was still covered by the soft, dark blue blanket Piper had found in his closet instead of being tucked under his normal white and teal sheets. He smiled at the blanket. It had been one he'd had on Terra Neverlandis, back when he and his parents used to go there for weekends, when he was only a small child. He hugged the blanket. It smelled like home.

He stepped out of his room, feeling refreshed from sleep and strangely free and relieved. It wasn't just that his sad mood had gone, it was something else. When he spotted Piper come out of her room and walk in his direction, he understood what the feeling was. Piper had seen him cry last night; she'd seen him at his most vulnerable. At first, that idea would have Aerrow blushing and bowing his head in shame and embarrassment. But now, he smiled broadly and wondered why he had ever hidden those feelings from his team. They were his family. They took care of him as much as he took care of them. For as long as he'd been there for them, they'd been there for him too.

'I guess it took me a while to see that.' he thought.

"Morning Piper." he said.

The navigator looked up and smiled at him. Her eyes looked beautiful in the sunlight that seemed to match them perfectly.

"Morning Aerrow." she replied. "You feel better now?"

Aerrow nodded, looking sheepish.

"I just…had a bit of a breakdown." he said.

"It's okay." Piper said. "You don't have to apologize. Even sky knights cry once in a while."