This is what happened the night I found out my great-grandmother had died - just replace 'Dante' with 'Nonal' (or grandfather for those of you non Italian,) and 'Lady' with 'Nan', and 'Vergil' with 'TehOdd1'.

Don't take 'Vergil's' love for 'Lady' in the wrong way. It's me and my best friend - or my nan. So, Vergil to Lady is love or lust, but my love to my nan is family love, and yes, I do adore her.

Love you.

xoox

I could feel my blood running cold in my veins and sweat leaking down the small of my back.

My eyes weren't blinking, and as much as I wanted to say something profound, or something that could make the moment better - my head was racing so fast with trying to process what had just been relayed to me, I couldn't think up any words.

The words I could manage to string together, however, were: "Oh. My. God."

The woman I cared for, loved and adored, was sobbing in a congealed, and sickening way. Her chest was pulling in abnormally tight. Her entire face was flushed and I swear to God - or whoever was listening - I have never seen her eyes stand out like that.

I know over the years I've read about seeing emotions in the eyes. I've never, EVER seen it the way I did then.

Her eyes were dull, and frenzied all at the same time. The parts that weren't drowning in tears were so brilliantly emotional, so very traumatizing, I took a deep, shuddering breath, and tried to speak.
But I was silenced.

Not by anything of my own, of course, but it was him, thumping down the hall, demanding answers and throwing his booming voice around the otherwise silent room.

Lady tried to speak but turned to me and buried her head in my shoulder.

I held her as she sobbed, blinking stupidly at the raging man. Why was he so mad?

He wouldn't stop talking. Asking questions. Demanding answers. It was exhausting. Why was he so mad?

I calmly told him what I knew, trying to silence him and be sensitive to Lady's heart as I told him.

"Her mother is dead."

But he would not stop. He seethed, and I wasn't entirely sure weather he heard me or not, because he continued on as though I said nothing.

When he laid a hand on her shoulder and tried to shake her - I grit my teeth and narrowed my eyes. I felt anger ignite what little I felt at the moment - and made my next, rather out of character move.

"Shut up!" I bellowed, and for a moment Dante was silent, staring at me with wide eyes like he couldn't believe I'd told him off in such a way.

"Don't you tell me to shut up!" he yelled back, recovering. Then he turned on his heel and stormed off down the stairs. I could hear every heavy footfall like I could feel the intake of shaking breath from Lady.

I still craddled her jerking form.

"I'll do whatever I like! Can't you see she can't speak?" I growled. I wanted to say something that would drive the point of my argument into his thick head. But I couldn't think, and I didn't like the sensation.

"Let her grieve, for God's sake!"

He was yelling, and storming down the stairs - I half got up, leaving Lady on the bed she now occupied, but she grabbed my wrist and held on limply. Her hands were cold.

"Don't argue with him, please." she moaned.

I could see she was trying to hold onto her tears, but knew it was pointless. She was only human, and humans cried when they were hurt and sad.

She was, at the current time, both.

I wrapped my arm around her back and settled down instantly. I rubbed my knuckles aross her shoulders in circles, trying to work some of her warmth back into her.

I needed some one to help me. I needed anyone to help me. I was out of my depth trying to do something like console a woman who had just lost her mother. I was drowning, drowning in frantic thoughts about the woman who was now as cold as ice, quite literally...

"Don't worry." I whispered, staring at my knees.

They were trembling, and just barely touching Lady's, who shook in time with me.

It was then I realised the entire bed was shuddering along with me. I was vibrating so hard, trying to suppress all my hurt and anger and regret - I hadn't noticed I was beginning to feel.

I was grinding my teeth, trying to calm myself down and help Lady. I was trying, but I was failing, and I promised myself that I would not cry until I had help.

She started to speak.

Oh, God, her words were so wrong.

Coming out of such a usually warm mouth, her tongue seemed to trip over certain words that with each syllable, broke my tiny, black heart.

"I was speaking to her just this morning, Vergil." she whispered, rocking forwards slightly. She rocked back, then bit into her palm, pressing it into her face.

"Just this morning, and she was fine. She was okay. I was speaking to her just hours ago."

She didn't look at me, and spoke the miserable words into her hand, like she'd forgotten I was there.

What should I say now?

I was hurting in places that had long since died.

I tried to steel myself against the hurt.

Against the pain.

The sheer agony.

I tried so damning hard not to let the tears touch the back of my eyes.

But she continued to speak words that throbbed and lingered in the air, reverberating around my ear drums almost violently.

"And she was fine. Sounded happy. Oh, God, my mother-!" she cried.

She was rocking more frantically now, and I tried not to reach out and contain her because I wanted to let her grieve as she whished, and not be controlling.

I didn't want to control her because I didn't want her to pull away from me. I wanted to control her because if she let these feelings rule her for to long, she would forget how to feel anything but sadness, and that was not something I was going to let her do easily.

She turned to me and embraced me once more, and I found that this contained my tears more than I ever thought possible.

Being strong for someone was something I knew how to do. I kept my tears in their place, and felt nothing at all.

But when she let go from her spontaneous hug - I felt like I fell apart, like it was her holding me together- like she was going to leave me just as her mother had left her. I wouldn't be able to stop death for her, and I couldn't save her mother.

There was virtually nothing I could do.

I felt helpless.

Agonised and tortured, staring at the weeping form of the Lady who I adored so.

It was not like me not to know what to say, or not to cry. But to hell with it- I made a promise to myself.

I intended to keep it.

"It's okay." I soothed, spreading my hand across her shoulder. "I-It's okay."

I wanted to know why her voice was so much stronger than mine. It was a case of - she was bawling her eyes out, sobbing so hard that sometimes she would just shake and cease all noise being made - and her voice was clear and almost steady, whereas mine sounded soft - breakable.

And I wasn't even crying.

"I was speaking to her." she whispered. "And she said to me : 'I'll be down soon. I hope they don't forget me again, they always leave me behind.'"

A chord struck in my chest. Tears fogged my eyes.

"The last thing I said to her," she continued, turning to face me slightly.

I dipped my head away from hers, unable to look at the expression printed over her face. She turned her eyes down again, tears spilling over the skin.

I didn't like being so helpless.

So unable to protect and fix the one I adored so damning much.

"the last thing I ever said to her, was: 'Love you, mum.'. And do you know what the last thing she said to me was?"

I trembled, then closed my eyes.

I had a pretty good idea what would've come next out of her own mother's mouth.

"'Love you, too.'"

I broke.

Regardless weather I had made a promise to myself, or weather I cared more for the crying woman than the dead one...

I cried.

We cried together.

Warm, squeezing hugs were shared.

There was not one inch of happiness or anything remotely good in that condemned room.

Only contentment remained in my heart.

If I could hold her together physically, then she would know what to do to fix herself.

I would've helped her help herself.

I didn't have to wait for help.

I was her help.

For a bittersweet moment, she was all mine. Mine to weep with, mine to share grief with. Mine to express anything I could.

But then the phones started to ring, and Dante came back for round two, and I had to keep a tight leash on my tears and trembles, let Lady go, and help her help everyone else.

It was just what us, as humans, did.

We loved, we lived, we cried, we broke. We stumbled, we hated, we shared and we died.

And really...

That was life.

The End.