A/N: This is based off the song You Call This Your Home by Hannah Peel.

~O~

His home lay where he could not see
Overtaken by the darkness of fancies

Not long after Robbie Shapiro graduated from Hollywood Arts, he came into a lot of money. Specifically, a few hundred thousand dollars. Under normal circumstances, Robbie would have been ecstatic. However, as it was, this money was from the insurance company because his home burned down and his entire family perished in the fire.

Needless to say, Robbie wished he never received this money.

But the fact still remained that he did have the money, and he had absolutely no idea what to do with it. That is, until the day he had coffee with a certain redhead.

"Oh, Robbie!" Cat said, throwing her arms around the boy. "I'm so so so so so sorry to hear about your family! It's awful! It's so so so so so awful!"

Robbie merely pursed his lips and pulled away. "I know," he said as he sat down at the table, looking forlornly out the window. Even a hug from Cat, his best friend whom he'd had a heavy crush on for years, wasn't able to brighten his day.

"It is, Robbie, it really is! Were you even able to salvage anything from the fire?" Cat asked, taking hold of his hands from across the table.

Robbie looked down and shook his head. "No." He pulled his hands away, clasping them together and resting his chin on them. "It's burnt to the ground—you can't see anything anymore."

"That's so terrible!" Cat said. "You've lost everything?"

All Robbie could do was nod. He felt his throat constricting, and knew that he would turn into a blubbering mess if he said anything.

"How did it happen?" Cat asked, sounding anxious. "Do you know?"

Robbie swallowed hard, trying to bring himself to talk without bursting into tears.

"Well, I'm pretty sure it was my sister," he said slowly. "You know how she looked up to Jade, right? Well, she began to develop some rather dark interests, one of them being fire. I'm pretty sure that she was just setting something on fire for fun, and, well, it got out of control. But I don't know, I wasn't even in the house."

The waitress appeared, asking them if they were ready to order. Cat asked for a vanilla frappuccino, and Robbie ordered a plain black cup of coffee.

"I can't believe that this happened just two weeks after you graduated," Cat said. "This is our last summer together. It was going to be so great—like an adventure! But now…" Cat shook her head sadly, and she looked like she was on the verge of tears.

"No, Cat, don't be like that," Robbie said, putting his hand protectively over hers. "This is my tragedy, not yours. You can still have fun with the others, and after I get everything straightened out we can hang out again. But don't cry, please. It'll just make me feel worse."

Cat sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Okay," she said, taking a deep breath and exhaling. "Okay. I won't cry, Robbie. But only so you'll feel better."

"That's my girl," Robbie said as he tapped Cat under the chin, a flicker of a smile crossing his lips.

The waitress came back, handing the two their beverages. They both sipped their coffees in silence for a few moments.

Cat broke the silence. "Robbie, where are you staying?" she asked with concern. "I mean, your old house is obviously out of the question…"

"Right now I'm at my Mawmaw's," Robbie answered, cringing a bit. "But I'm leaving; I can't take it there. You know how Mawmaw is."

Cat nodded sympathetically.

"I'm thinking of going to a hotel either tonight or tomorrow," Robbie said. "You know, so I can get away."

Cat smiled nervously, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You know…you could stay at my home."

Robbie didn't answer.

"Really, it wouldn't be a problem," she said readily, looking at him with wide eyes. "My brother's out of town, and his room is empty, and you could stay there because my parents love you and would be glad to help—"

"No, Cat," Robbie said quietly. "No thank you. I would love to stay at your home, but honestly, I just…want some time to myself. I have to think over a lot of things."

Cat looked genuinely hurt. "Okay," she whispered. "If you say so."

"Look, Cat, I would love to, really," Robbie said earnestly. "But I just can't right now."

"I understand," she answered, still avoiding his eyes. Her forehead was still scrunched in worry.

"Hey, hey, Cat, look at me," Robbie said. He put his hand under her chin, tilting her face up so she would look at him. "Don't be sad, okay? Like I said, this is my tragedy, not yours. And if you keep your forehead scrunched up like that, you're gonna get wrinkles."

Cat gasped, her hand flying to her forehead. "No!"

Robbie nodded, barely able to suppress and smirk. "Yup. So you better not worry, okay?"

Cat nodded vigorously. "Okay! No more worrying." She took another sip of her coffee and asked, "Hey, you got a lot of money from the insurance agency, right?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, what are you going to do with all of it?"

Robbie shrugged. "I dunno. Put it in the bank, get an apartment, have it pay for college."

Cat giggled. "You know what you should do?"

"What?"

She leaned forward and whispered, "You should go to Disneyworld!"

Robbie tilted his head. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously! You have the money, so you should take a vacation. And go somewhere fun to cheer yourself up."

Robbie slowly sipped his coffee, running over Cat's proposal in his mind. A vacation… Yes, that was what he needed. He could delay college by one year and travel across Europe. Who knew, maybe if he was lucky he could find a nice place in England or something, and just move there. Start over.

Start over.

Robbie put down his coffee cup. Yes, yes, he needed to do that. He needed to start over. His life in California had varied from mediocre to hellish, and he had almost no friends. Maybe if he moved to Europe he could reinvent himself. Maybe he could meet a nice girl and settle down in a cottage along the coast of Italy. Maybe he could get a loft in London and become an artist. Maybe he could become a cook in France. Maybe he could become a tour guide in Portugal, and meet people from all over the world.

Or maybe, instead of reinventing himself, he could, without the burden of his past or people's expectations, find out who he actually was.

"Robbie?" Cat asked, her forehead once again starting the wrinkle involuntarily. "You okay?"

He looked up at the redheaded girl, and wondered if he should take her along on his trip. Cat was his best friend, and he was in love with her—at least, he was pretty sure he was. He knew that her bubbly personality would be able to keep him up whenever the weight of his lost family became too much for him. And she always talked about how much she wanted to visit Italy…

He smiled at her. "I think I'm going to take a trip to Europe."

Cat beamed. "Oh, yay! That sounds like so much fun! My brother, one time he…"

Cat babbled on about her brother, and another thought dawned on Robbie. He realized that Cat had a home, a family. She would have to come back to America, and that was something Robbie did not want to do. He wanted to go to Europe and forget about his life in California. If he brought Cat along, he would be forced to remember.

Also, if his journey was going to be one of self-discovery, then that meant he would have to go it alone, right? With no ties to anyone or anything from his past, even including Cat?

Yes, Robbie decided. It did mean that.

"Excuse me," Robbie said, cutting Cat off mid-sentence. "I think I have to go home and pack for my trip." He stood up and put a fifty dollar bill on the table.

"Okay, Robbie!" Cat said. "Call me when you get there—I want to hear all about it!"

Robbie paused, and he could feel his heart tightening. He grabbed hold of Cat's hand and pulled her out of the seat and into his arms. He gave her a long hug, relishing her touch and committing the smell of her vanilla scented perfume to memory. If there was one thing he was going to miss about California, it was Cat.

"I'm going to miss you," Robbie said softly as he pulled away.

"Oh, I'll miss you too, Robbie," Cat replied. "But we'll see each other again soon, right?"

"I don't know." He couldn't bring himself to lie to her, so he just…wouldn't tell her the whole truth. "It'll probably be a long trip. We might see each other again, but it'll be awhile from now."

Cat nodded. "That's okay. We can still call each other and text and stuff."

His heart tightened a little bit more, and he gave her a peck on the forehead.

"I'll think about you every day," he whispered.

Cat giggled, putting her fingers to the place where he had kissed her. "Robbie Shapiro, do you like me?"

Robbie ran his fingers through her hair. "Of course I do. You're my best friend."

"But do you like me like me?" Cat asked as she grinned and playfully swiped at his chest.

"Yes, and you're the only person that I'm going to miss. You're special to me, Cat. I won't ever forget you." He kissed her forehead again. "Ever," he whispered. He ran out of the coffee shop before Cat could say anything else. It was too hard to say goodbye, and he knew that if stayed any longer then he would lose his nerve and not be able to leave.

Although, maybe it would have been better if he stayed.

He called himself a traveler benighted
Who clung on until there flowed a tide with a strong embrace

On the anniversary of his family's death three years later, Robbie Shapiro, with days worth of stubble on his face and no glasses, was lying on the beach in a clump of seaweed. It was the early morning, and some may have assumed that he was just a drunkard who had fallen asleep there the night before. But that was not the case. Robbie Shapiro was waiting for the tide to come in and take him away.

When he had left for Europe all those years ago, he had been foolish. He had been a benighted traveler, ignorant of the real world, thinking that he would have been able to find himself in her journey. He had been wrong. The only place where he belonged was at the bottom of the ocean.

The sun was breaking over the horizon, piercing through his eyelids. Robbie grimaced, and prayed that tide would come in before someone came along and discovered him. The tide was coming ever closer, and he could feel the cold water lapping at his feet. The roaring tide was all he heard, the sound obliterating all others, even his own breathing. He could hear nothing except—

"Good morning!" a woman said loudly.

Robbie turned over onto his stomach, groaning.

"Good morning, I said!" she repeated. She nudged him, and he curled up in a ball, burying his face in the seaweed.

"Go away…" he moaned. "Go away…"

The woman huffed indignantly. "Look, I'm trying to help you! The tide is coming in, and I don't want you to fall asleep and drown!"

Robbie didn't move. "What if that's what I want?"

The woman gave a smile sigh. "Okay, apparently you really need my help now." She hooked her arms around his thin waist and began pulling. "Come on, we gotta get you out of here…"

"No, no!" he yelled, clinging on to his seaweed. "Let go of me, let go!"

"You'll thank me for this later—let's get you to a hospital or something—"

"I don't need any damned hospital!" Robbie, now standing on his feet, turned around quickly, prepared to strike at his captor. But as soon as he made eye contact, he stopped.

"Oh, God," he whispered. "Cat?"

You call this your home

After Cat found Robbie on the beach, she took him back to her apartment. Robbie sat shivering on her small couch when Cat came back and wrapped a fuzzy blanket around his shoulders and gave him a mug of hot chocolate.

Over the last three years, Cat had changed. Her hair was still the same bright red it had always been, but her personality was much more subdued. She wasn't as animated as she used to be, and was now more…jaded. Like her ever-present hope had been shattered, and while she had been able to piece it back together, the cracks still remained.

"Okay, Robbie," Cat said, sitting down next to him. "Tell me what happened."

Robbie didn't answer. He merely blew the steam off his hot chocolate and took a long sip, the hot liquid scalding his tongue and throat.

"Robbie!" Cat said pleadingly. "I haven't talked to you in three years—please, just say something."

Robbie looked up at Cat from the corner of his eye. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" Cat said, her eyes starting to well up. "You better be! I thought you were dead! I worried about you for so long and called you so many times and prayed so much that you would call me back. But did you? No, you didn't. And now here you are, alive, and I'm starting to question everything you ever told me. You said I was your best friend. Was that just a lie? Because that was a pretty cruel thing to tell a girl moments before you abandoned her without saying goodbye."

Robbie put the mug on the coffee table and buried his head in his hands. His body began to shake with silent sobs.

Cat rubbed her temples. There she went again, letting her emotions take over when she should be helping someone else.

"Robbie," she said, rubbing small circles on his back. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I have no right to be accusing you like that. Please, Robbie, tell me what's wrong."

Robbie looked at Cat, a haunted expression in his dark brown eyes.

"I'm sorry I left you," he said. "I never should have done that. I was so confused and scared and sad when my family died, and I just wanted to start over. I thought that starting over meant that I had to leave everything behind—including you. It's just that…at the coffee shop, you were so naïve and hopeful that I couldn't bring myself to tell you I wasn't going to see you again. Cat, I was stupid. I was so, so stupid."

"No, you weren't, Robbie. Just…mistaken."

There was a pause, a heavy silence hanging over the two as Robbie studied the carpet.

"I did think about you every day, just so you know," he whispered.

Cat gave a sad smile. "Thank you. I thought about you, too."

He looked up at her. "I should have brought you along, but I was scared because you were an attachment to my old life, and I thought that I wouldn't have been able to move on if you were there."

"It's okay, I understand. I forgive you." Cat brushed Robbie's grimy, sandy hair away from his eyes. "But if you wanted to move on, why did you come back?"

"I was coming home," Robbie answered flatly. "I had realized that my life traveling was just a futile attempt to find a place where I belonged, when I didn't belong anywhere. So I made up my mind to use the last of my money to buy a plane ticket back to Los Angeles, go to the place where my home once stood, and swallow a bottle of pills. The only problem was that a new house there. I considered killing myself on their lawn, but I didn't want my last action on Earth to cause people distress. So instead I decided to drown myself on the beach. I thought it would have been a fitting irony—my family died by fire, and I died by water. Either way, I was going home to my family."

Cat didn't know what to say. She had imagined her reunion with Robbie a thousand times ever since he left, but she had no idea that it would go like this. What were you supposed to say when your best friend tries to drown himself on the beach?

She remembered what her own therapists had told her when she was first treated for bipolar disorder. They told her to keep talking and let everything out, because sometimes just that could make her feel better. Maybe Robbie needed that.

"Robbie," she said, "tell me about your travels. What happened? Did anything go wrong?"

He snorted. "Well, nothing went right, that's for sure."

She took hold of his hand and looked into his eyes.

"Tell me. Tell me everything."

He travelled far and light
Except a sorrow that etched away a heart
And left its mark for all to see
Who dared look back at him, now down on his knees

"When I left for my trek across Europe three years ago, I had almost nothing with me," Robbie said monotonously. "I just had a backpack, a map, and a heart filled with hope and possibility."

"I started out in London, you know," he continued. "Seemed like a pretty cool place to start. I mean, they speak English there, so at least there wasn't a language barrier. When I arrived, I was a bit disheartened by the rain and general grayness of the city. That just wasn't what I needed. So, I decided that because I couldn't stay in London, I would go to France. France was nice, but there was just something about it that I didn't like. I don't know what it was; it just...didn't work out. I left France after a month or two and went to Germany. There, too, I tried to find my place, but it didn't feel right."

Robbie took a long drink of his hot chocolate, now lukewarm.

"That was how it went for years," he said. "I would go somewhere for a few months, be dissatisfied, and then move on. I wasn't even sure what I was looking for in Europe, I just knew that he wasn't able to find it. I kept telling myself 'The next country, the next city, that'll be better.' But it never was."

Robbie rubbed his eyes, a visible weariness heavy on his shoulders. "I had hoped to make some new friends in Europe, but I'm still the same fucking socially awkward dork I've always been, and I never became close with anyone that I met. I guess I was guarded. And whenever I made a friend and they asked me about my past, I would just kind of stare off into the distance and not answer. Sometimes I would try to explain and start crying. People never knew what to say to me, and, honestly, they were afraid to get closer. All they saw was that I was a sad, sad man, and nobody wanted to get mixed up in the affairs of a sad, sad man. They would run away from me, and no one ever even dared to look back."

His voice barely above a whisper, Robbie said, "The last person to leave me was a woman named Yeva. I was just getting desperate for someone to help me, to not give up on me for once, and she was my last hope. I fell down on my knees and begged her to stay, but she still…she still walked away."

"I must have befriended and lost about fifty people," Robbie said as he pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "And a few months ago, I started thinking. I had been to every country in Europe—many of them multiple times—and I didn't feel like I belonged anywhere there. Fifty people from all over Europe didn't care about me enough to help. I had no home—I had no place. And I was running out of money, too. I started to think: what if I was supposed to die in the fire? I hadn't been in the house at the time it burned down, but I was supposed to be. I'm just little Robbie Shapiro, the dork that nobody cares about. I was never supposed to be in this world. I don't belong anywhere. I belong wherever my family went, wherever the hell it was that I was supposed to go. I've just been living on borrowed time for three long years."

Robbie drank the last of his hot chocolate and put down the mug.

"And that's why I'm trying to kill myself," he said.

Cat was just sitting there in stunned silence, tears blurring her vision. She stared at her hands folded in her lap, trying to process everything that Robbie told her. She wanted to throw her arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be all right, but she felt like those words were empty. Robbie wouldn't listen to empty words—he needed to hear the truth from her, or else it would just be for nothing. There was a thought somewhere in the back of her mind that held her true feelings, and she was trying desperately to bring that thought to the surface.

"Well?" Robbie sneered. "Don't you have anything to say, Cat? Or are you just going to walk away, like everyone else has?"

Cat carefully shook her head slowly, her gaze still fixed on the carpet. "No," she whispered. "No, Robbie. I won't do that."

"Oh really? There's no reason why you shouldn't. I left you, remember? This time we'll be even."

"No, no," Cat said, her voice growing louder. The thought in the back of her mind was coming forward, slowly, slowly…

"Well, I can see myself to the door," Robbie said, a bitter dejection in his voice, one that came from having conversations like this one too many times before. He stood up, the blanket falling to the ground, and started to walk to the door.

"No, Robbie, wait!" Cat cried out, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back. The thought had finally come forward, and she knew what she had to say.

"You had everything all wrong," she told him. "You weren't supposed to find your place in Europe. You don't belong there. But I know where you do belong."

"At the bottom of the ocean?" he asked listlessly.

"No! Robbie, you belong here! You belong here with me!"

Robbie was too stunned to reply.

"Robbie, I'm in love with you," Cat said, looking pleadingly into his deadened brown eyes. "That's why it hurt so much when you left without saying goodbye. I was a weird teenager, I know that, and half the time I couldn't keep my own name straight. But as I got older, I began realize that how I felt for you went beyond a simple teenage crush—it was love, actual love. I've been with other men in the past three years, but I've never felt the same for them as I do for you."

Cat grabbed onto Robbie's upper arms. "Robbie, be honest with me. Out of all the people you met in Europe, have you fallen in love with any of them?"

"..No," he whispered, slowly shaking his head. "It's always been you. I was always thinking about you, but I was too afraid to get back in touch."

Cat beamed and began shaking Robbie. "Don't you see? Even years later, nothing has changed between us! Robbie, this is where you belong! Here, with me!"

Robbie looked down at Cat, sincerity shining in her bright eyes. This was unreal. He obviously had already drowned in the ocean, and by some crazy stroke of luck, he made his way into heaven. That had to be the explanation.

"So…let me get this straight," Robbie said. "You want me—me, Robbie Shapiro, the penniless and suicidal man that nobody likes and who has absolutely nothing to his name—to stay here with you?"

Cat nodded her head vigorously. "Yes, yes! Please, Robbie, don't leave. I'll help you get through this and you'll be happy and you'll belong here and we'll have a great life and it will be everything that we should have had over the past three years."

Robbie couldn't help it. He started to laugh. And when he started, he couldn't stop. Soon, he was on the ground, wheezing for air between intense fits. Slowly, even though she didn't understand what was going on, Cat began to laugh too. She and Robbie were on the ground, clutching onto each other and laughing so hard that they couldn't breathe. They came back to their senses gradually, and when Robbie was finally able to think straight, he looked at Cat. She had a goofy grin and her red hair was falling in her face. She looked just like she did in high school.

Robbie brushed her hair out of her face and rested his hand behind her head.

"I think I'll give this a try," he said softly. "Your ideas may have been hit and miss in the past, but I think you might just be right this time."

There lies the way
We'll taste the cold spray

"Come on, Robbie!" Cat called out over her shoulder as she trudged through the sand. She and Robbie were hiking along the beach at five thirty in the morning. The sky was overcast, and a mist was rolling in from the sea.

"You are insane, Cat!" Robbie yelled out as he jogged up to her. He was wearing an overstuffed backpack, which was bouncing against his spine and threatening to break it.

"But in the good way!" Cat said. She linked her arm through Robbie's when he caught up to her and she kissed his cheek. "Do you want me to take the backpack?"

"Yes," Robbie said, letting the bag drop off from his shoulders. Cat put it on and began walking at a brisk pace once again.

"This isn't going to work," Robbie said.

"Yes it will!" Cat said. "My brother hiked to Mexico along the coastline last year, so we can do it too!"

"In case you haven't noticed, your brother isn't the best role model…" Robbie said uncertainly as he looked back at Venice Beach, the sky scrapers of the city still visible.

"Oh, hush, Robbie!" Cat said, playfully smacking his arm. "It's an adventure! Our life has been so blah lately—we need some excitement!"

"Yeah, yeah," Robbie said, taking hold of Cat's hand.

It was true that things had been rather slow in their lives lately. But Robbie loved it that way because it showed how far they had come. He and Cat had been living together for the past two years, and it was better than any trip to France ever was. Cat helped to heal Robbie, and (with a bit of money from her parents) she got Robbie some counseling. That, coupled with her own support and love, was able to bring Robbie back from that dark, dark place two years ago.

And he truly did feel like he belonged with Cat. They felt so comfortable around each other, and they could tell each other anything. They talked about everything and nothing, and did whatever they wanted to, whether it was playing baby golf at midnight or making friendship bracelets for kindergarteners. They treasured each other's eccentricities, and rarely, if ever, got into fights. Their relationship was even better than how Robbie had imagined it would be.

"Robbie, look!" Cat said, pointing ahead of them.

"What?"

"Look at that giant rock!" About a hundred yards away, where the coastline turned rocky, there was a huge rock. It extended out above the sea, and it looked about ten feet high.

"I want to go climb it!" Cat said. She began walking at a brisker pace, and Robbie tried to keep up.

"You sure? It looks pretty slick."

"Oh, we'll be fine," Cat said dismissively. She took hold of his arm and snuggled her head against his shoulder. "Besides, you'll protect me, won't you?"

Robbie smiled and patted Cat's head. "All right, I'll protect you…"

"Awesome, let's go!" Cat grabbed onto Robbie's hand and began pulling him toward the rock.

As they approached, Robbie began to feel queasy. It looked much larger up close, and it was a rather steep drop into the water…

Before he could protest, though, Cat had already taken off her pack and was climbing up the rock. Robbie had no choice but to follow.

"Isn't this amazing?" Cat sighed with her eyes closed, the ocean breeze blowing back her vibrant red hair.

Robbie scrambled to the top and stood up beside her. All he saw was the mist.

"Sorry, Cat," he said. "I don't see anything."

"No, silly, close your eyes! Listen and smell."

Robbie uncertainly did as Cat suggested. He hated the beach because it reminded him too much about that extremely dark period of his life. He closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the waves crashing against the rock and took in the smell of the salty air.

"Open your mouth," Cat said. "You can taste the spray of the ocean."

Still tentative, Robbie did as she said. The mist was salty and cold. Robbie desperately wanted to go back to the apartment—the sound of the ocean waves breaking against the shore was bringing back sharp and painful memories, and he just wanted to go back and curl up with Cat and watch a Disney movie.

"I'm heading back," Robbie said, turning around.

"No!" Cat cried, latching onto his wrist. "You have to stay here!"

"Why?" Robbie demanded. "This is just painful—I can't stand the sound of the ocean, and I can't stand the beach! You know that!"

"Yeah, I do know that, Robbie," Cat said earnestly. "That's why we're here. I'm trying to help you replace those bad memories with good ones, so you can move on."

"…Really?" Robbie said, surprised. They last time they had done anything therapy-related was six months ago. He had thought he was done.

"Yes," Cat answered. "Robbie, I want you to become better. Completely better. And I figured," she said, giggling, "hey, we might as well get a trip to Mexico out of it too!"

Robbie wrapped Cat in his arms, hugging her tightly to his chest. "I love you so much," he said.

Robbie could feel Cat's smile. "I love you too."

The two sat down on the edge of the rock, their feet hanging over. They watched as the sun grew stronger and melted away the mist, leaving a vibrant blue in its place. There was no horizon line, just the sky merging into the sea as one endless color. Robbie listened to the waves and wrapped one arm around Cat's shoulders.

Maybe the ocean wasn't so bad. Maybe he could learn to love it, and treat as a part of his new life. The ocean wasn't a frightening reminder of how far down he fell two years ago—it was a current experience with Cat, as they went on a journey to Mexico. And this journey would be different than Europe, because now he was doing it right.

He was going with Cat, which was the way that it was always supposed to be.

You call this your home

Even though it took five years for him to completely move on from his tragedy, he was finally home. He was with Cat, and those horrible three years in Europe were nothing anymore. He was finally able to move on completely from what happened, and that was all that mattered.

His home was with Cat.

A/N: Okay, this too way too long to write (almost six thousand words, seriously?), and it didn't quite turn out how I wanted. Gah. I considered having Robbie propose to Cat on the rock, but that would have felt...I dunno, cliche.

This was very quickly edited, and if you spot any errors PLEASE TELL ME.

Review, please? :3