Ann was unfolding a napkin behind the bar, loudly depositing the swaddled silverware onto the countertop with a sharp clank. She clumsily wiped her eyes as her father put an arm around her shoulder, his lips brushing the top of her head.

Claire hoped that her entrance to the inn would be a little more subtle, but the squeaky hinge on the door had other plans. She gave the family a sheepish look, suddenly wondering if she was truly wanted or needed here. Doug's amber eyes looked up at her pleadingly as he cocked his head toward his daughter. Steeling herself, Claire attempted to swallow the lump forming in her throat as Ann hiccoughed, choking on a sob. Seeing someone who was usually in good spirits in such a state was difficult to watch.

How am I supposed to be the strong one?

Her feet became heavy as she dragged them across the room. She was unaware of the way she fidgeted with her hands as she approached the two of them. Where did one begin?

Claire swallowed, her mouth dry. "They said he'd be there for the night… I-I… I uh…"

Her words stopped in her throat. It didn't matter, though, because Ann threw an arm around her, pulling her into the embrace with Doug. Her friend's closeness was to be expected, but Claire was surprised by the steady hand on her back as Doug attempted to soothe both of them. She had never been this close to the barkeep before.

He smelled faintly of bay rum. Claire thought of her father's furrowed eyebrows.

"We Dumonts have our pride and always play to our strengths. You're a city girl, Claire. You're not a farmer."

But Armand Dumont wasn't here to comfort her. She wondered if he actually would if he were – he likely didn't approve of her relationship with Cliff, either.

She held her breath as a sob rose in her chest. Her companions held her closer and the tears flowed.

"I'm so glad you found him," Ann cried, giving her a squeeze. "I-If you didn't… he could've… died." The words were heavy in her mouth.

"I'm sure we'll be kept updated on his condition," Doug murmured, giving them both a squeeze.

No one was quite sure of what to say. The three stood in silence for a few minutes, wiping their eyes and sniffing.

Ann finally gave her father a nod, brushing away her tears. "Claire… I was wondering if we could talk for a bit in my room."

An instinctive pang of worry struck her chest, but the words left her lips before she gave them permission to. "Okay." She saw the grateful look in Doug's eyes as they excused themselves.

It had been a while since Claire had been in Ann's room, but it looked more or less the same. She was pleased to see that the hand-painted pinwheel she had made for Ann's birthday was sitting in a vase on her dresser among some dried flowers. They both took a seat on the edge of her bed, and the heavy atmosphere was suffocating.

"I'm… I'm really sorry, Claire." Ann's voice cracked as she moved her eyes to the wall. "I'm sorry that he kept wanting to talk to me of all people." She let out an awkward chuckle that sounded like a snort. Wiping her nose, her gaze traveled to the floor.

Claire shook her head. "It's alright…"

Their eyes met and Ann bit back a frown as she saw the quavering on Claire's lips, the worry lines on her forehead.

It clearly isn't.

"I… I know he feels comfortable around you," Claire tried, her hands gravitating over her aching heart. "The important thing is that you were able to help him relax when the doctors were working on him."

"But you wanted to be the one to do that." The words slipped out of Ann's mouth with a sad sigh.

Her friend's comment stabbed, and Claire flinched at it. She blinked, a couple of fat tears tumbling down her cheeks. She impatiently brushed them away with her hands and balled her fists onto her lap. "Th-that's not the important thing. He's getting the help he needs." She struggled to keep her voice steady.

There was a moment of silence as the two acknowledged this. Ann's face was pensive as she rested her chin onto her hand. "Ivy…" She turned and looked over at Claire. "He thought I was her."

"People can hallucinate a bit when they have hypothermia," Claire explained gently. She fussed with her hands in her lap.

Ann was brought back to late spring. The breeze was coming in through the window, making the cotton curtains dance. Cliff was pacing the room. His ponytail was just past his shoulders and his clothes weren't as baggy as they were now. There was a bounce in his step, yet his movements were laced with anxiety. It appeared that he wasn't sure how to word what he wanted to say now that he had asked to meet Ann in the shared suite.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her smile fading.

He shook his head, his expression thoughtful. "I… I'm sorry. Sometimes I can't get the words to come out right." He walked over toward his corner of the room, picking up a bundle of chamomile that had been sitting on his nightstand. He went back over to Ann, holding it out to her carefully with both hands. "I guess the first thing I should do is thank you."

His deep blue eyes were wide and sparkling, and he wore a genuine smile. Her stomach did that curious twisting thing it did when he was around and she felt her chest pound. She loved and hated the feeling all at the same time.

"Ah, for me?"

At his shy nod, she leaned forward and gave it a sniff. She was rewarded with a sweet and floral scent that reminded her of spring and sunshine. Her heart gave a joyful leap. "Yummy! Thanks, I'll make some tea with it or something." She hoped he didn't notice the way her hands trembled as she accepted the herb from him. Ann wrapped her fingers around the bundled stems, looking up at him quizzically. "But why are you thanking me?"

"It's for being such a good friend to me." Cliff nervously rubbed his arm. "I've… I've honestly never really had a female friend before I moved here." His smile faded and his bangs concealed his eyes as he hung his head. "I've been alone for a really long time." Agony dripped from his soft voice. It was another moment before he spoke again, and when he did, Ann had to strain her ears to hear him. "I h-haven't… I haven't seen my sister in over six years." He gulped, his shoulders shuddering; it was apparent the pain was still fresh.

"Oh." She wasn't quite sure how to respond, as she never had a sibling of her own. "I'm sorry…"

He shook his head. "It's okay, really… I-I want to focus on the good today…" He gulped, closing his eyes. "I know… I know that she can never be replaced, but… she will always have a place in my h-heart." His voice cracked and he paused, placing a hand on his chest. A pair of wide eyes looked back at her. They held a heavy amount of pain in them, but she could see a glimmer of hope for the future. The corners of his mouth tilted ever so slightly upward. "But…" Color rose in his cheeks. "You do, too… You have a… similar place."

He had never aimed an expression at her like that before.

"H-huh?" Ann gulped.

A place in his heart? Is he trying to say… he loves me?

She looked down at the herb in her sweaty hands. The chamomile flowers were quite pretty with their soft white petals… Ann suddenly felt like an idiot for saying she was going to consume them. A rush of confusing emotions slammed her and she felt a little dizzy.

"Cl-Cliff, I…" She threw her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. His embrace was warm and touched a part of her heart she had never experienced before. Sneaking a peek up at him, she noticed his lips were curled into a smile and a thrill came over her as she realized she really wouldn't mind pressing her own against his. A heavy blush decorated her cheeks as she looked at him. She moved to her tiptoes, her eyes sliding shut.

Perhaps he'll meet me halfway…

The young man's friendly chuckle pleasantly vibrated in his chest, startling her a bit. "I'm really happy. It's almost like I have a sister again!" In his excitement he gave her a squeeze and spun her in a circle.

Ann blinked as her breath caught in her throat. She became lightheaded as a strange combination of euphoria and sadness hit her at once. She clung to him after he spun her, struggling to catch her bearings. She made the mistake of glimpsing up at him, and the joy on his face was contagious.

His eyes… they're… glowing.

Her corners of her lips twitched upwards.

"You even have her smile."

Ann attempted to make a sound, but her vocal chords refused to cooperate.

Sister… He sees me as a sister…

The young woman's joy immediately faded as she went numb. Her hand dropped to her side and she went pale.

All of his stuttering and blushing… It really was just because he's a shy person.

I… I thought…

It felt like there was a hand around Ann's throat. There was a deep ache in her chest that she had never felt before. Her hand naturally moved over her broken heart and she was aware that her cheeks hurt from her now-forced smile.

"Was… that all you needed to tell me?" The pitch of her voice was unnaturally high.

He gave her a cheery nod, his smile so bright he couldn't see beyond it.

Somewhere to hide. Somewhere to cry and let this out…

"I-I've gotta go and check on the laundry. See you later!" she stammered, hurrying out the door.

Ann was brought back to reality as she watched Claire stare at the floor, her face a grim line. The young woman was no doubt worrying about the side effects of Cliff's hypothermia.

Ann's voice cracked a bit when she spoke once more. "It's… not just that – hallucinating, I mean." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "He's seen me that way for a long time – just a sister."

"Just a sister? That's a very special bond," Claire murmured, her fingers traveling to the stone pendant hanging around her neck.

Ann became aware of the way she was hunching her shoulders and clenching her jaw. A couple of frustrated tears fell out of her eyes. "It wasn't the bond I wanted. I didn't ask for it."

Claire's wide blue eyes turned toward her. She said nothing as she curiously tilted her head, her eyebrows arched in worry, silently asking her to elaborate.

It felt like a challenge. Ann bit her tongue as she looked away. "Dad always says how much I remind him of Mom… and… Cliff's accidentally called me Sis a few times… It would be nice… if they actually liked me for who I am and not who I remind them of!" Her voice turned bitter as she impatiently wiped away her tears. She let out a deep sigh, moving her eyes up to the ceiling.

I don't want anyone to see me like this – especially her.

"I'm sorry, Claire… I think I just need some time alone…"

"Y-yeah…" Claire's voice quavered as she stood up. She found that she was craving to hear Ann ask how she could comfort her. Her cheeks burned with shame.

It's not fair for me to expect that of her... She's hurting.

But so am I, a tiny voice reminded her.

Nevertheless, she turned the doorknob and decided against giving Ann one last look before heading back out.

The outside temperature had only dropped further as the sun went down, causing her exposed skin to ache at the mere contact with the air. Claire huddled in her borrowed jacket, vaguely remembering that the coat she had used on Cliff was still at the hospital.

That wool pea coat I had back in the city was really warm…

She wondered if it still sat on the coat rack beside her parent's door, and she let out a quiet sob, her breath escaping her mouth in a puff. She shivered under the corduroy; it was little more than a collared shirt, but it was better than nothing.

She looked up at the starry sky. A few snowflakes were still fluttering down and landed on her eyelashes. Claire blinked them away, becoming keenly aware of the tears streaming down her face. Despite seeing many people today, she felt incredibly lonely. She thought of the way Cliff spoke to her and Ann as if they were family members in his delirium.

It seems Cliff is truly the lonely one…

I wasn't enough for him.

"Claire?"

She used to think that there was a special way the baritone said her name; she had once obsessed over the way it formed the sounds, and she had watched with enthralled eyes as his lips moved.

"Claire!"

There was a particular way Gray was saying her name. He hurried forward at his uneven gait and turned her around, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes met his and she was taken aback. Concern was clearly written on his face and his brows were furrowed in a way she had never seen before. She wasn't sure what he wanted her to say. She blinked as more tears slid down her cheeks.

"Just got back from the hospital. Elli told me that you found him."

She gave a nod, the muscles in her neck so tight she wondered if her body would creak.

He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze and she was shocked by the tenderness of the gesture. "She told me that Cliff's going to be sleeping for the rest of the day, but he'll be fine."

The young woman knew that this was a signal for her to calm down, but the twisting in her stomach didn't subside.

"Miss Claire…" Saibara's gravelly voice could be heard from behind his grandson. "We owe you our thanks for finding him when you did."

She wasn't sure how to respond. People were thanking her, but she really didn't feel like she had accomplished anything at all. The memories of Cliff's tired flailing and the occasional muffled cry were still fresh in her mind.

"Come. Let's go home and settle down with some tea." Claire never remembered Saibara's voice sounding so warm. It was like a doting parent – she decided that it was nice.

She hiccoughed and her throat ached as she gave an automatic nod. In that moment, she became aware that she had been sobbing in the snow. The old man led the way and Gray said nothing as he offered his arm to her. She shakily accepted, grateful to have something stable. The familiar scent of machine oil and coal filled her nostrils as she walked alongside him. Instead of causing her stomach to twist and her heart to flutter, it gave her a strange, calming feeling. She looked up at him curiously; Gray's eyes were serious as he looked ahead.

It had felt like ages since she had set foot inside of the smithy, and as Saibara opened the door for her, she wasn't sure where to go. Luckily, Gray guided her to the living quarters, pushing the door open with his free arm.

It was a small space – cluttered and cramped. A bed sat on one wall, and a kitchenette lined another. A door off to the side was likely a restroom, and in the remaining space was a short tea table surrounded by a few floor cushions. Several dirty garments were scattered among the floor by the bed, but she didn't pay them any notice as Saibara offered her a seat at the table.

She shivered as she sat down, realizing just how thin the jacket she donned was. The forge in the other room heated the small building well. Saibara turned on the electric kettle and looked over at his guest.

"Feel free to stay here as long as you like."

The young woman already felt like she was imposing, but she gave an awkward nod as her eyes moved towards the table's surface.

There was a long silence as she watched the old man produce some cups and a tin of powdered matcha from the cupboard.

"I'm… I'm sorry you had to see me like that," she mumbled, averting her eyes in shame.

"No apologies needed," he replied, grabbing some utensils. "The young man is important to you."

His words eased her heart a bit and her fingers traveled to the carved pendant hanging around her neck. She was unaware of the slight blush that crept across her pale face.

Saibara smirked as the kettle whistled. "The eyes speak more than the mouth."

The notion of being a woman in love made her want to instinctively smile, but her lips refused to move upward as she stared blankly at the wall. There was an old framed needlepoint hanging depicting a bundle of wheat. She vaguely wondered if it was something Saibara had crafted himself. The fabric had yellowed with age.

"My mom made that," Gray mumbled quietly, breaking the silence. "It's been in that same place for as long as I can remember."

She gave a slight nod in acknowledgment and stared at it, unsure of what to do with herself.

Gray stayed by Claire's side as his grandfather brought over the kettle and cups. "Miss Claire, you're trembling." His bushy eyebrows were raised with concern.

She blinked and looked down at her shaking hands. Ducking her head in embarrassment, she tucked her hands onto her lap. "Ah, I-I'm sorry…" Her voice was strained to the breaking point. A lump formed in her throat and tears threatened to spill out once more. She slowed down her breathing and she realized that her head was spinning again.

"It's better to let it out than hold it in." Gray's suggestion was a surprise.

Those were the only words she needed. Teardrops rained on the table as Claire sniffed, taking care not to vocalize her crying. She thought of the blue tinge Cliff had to his lips and the lifelessness they had when she had pressed her mouth against them. She could still see his panicked, darting eyes and erratic breathing.

What am I doing here?

"I-I have to go to him!" she stammered, squirming in her seat.

A firm, gnarled hand sat heavily on her shoulder and kept her from bolting. "They were locking up when we left. Some rest will do you both some good."

All of the fight left her as she let out a deep exhale.

"Stay and have some tea with us. You've been through a lot today." There was a finality to his tone that made Claire's body feel heavy. He was right; she wasn't going anywhere.

The three sat in silence as Saibara whisked the matcha. He had a methodical way about making his tea, and the bamboo utensil rang against the ceramic in a soothing melody. She was lulled by the sound and jumped a bit in surprise when Gray quietly cleared his throat, pushing his handkerchief across the table to her. She accepted it with a quiet thanks, burying her face in the fabric. Her mind was swimming with the day's events, along with her stifled and raw emotions.

"Have you ever enjoyed matcha in the traditional way? A tea ceremony?"

Claire didn't remove her face from the handkerchief as she shook her head.

Saibara added a little more powder to the hot water and stirred. "It's a time to eliminate distractions and focus on the hospitality of your host and simple act of enjoying tea. The idea is to embrace a change of pace and live in the moment as you focus on a simple refreshment. I know this isn't exactly a scenic garden or tatami room, but we can use our imaginations a little." The old man gave Claire a wry smile as he carefully placed a cup in front of her.

Gray shifted uncomfortably in his seat. There was something about Claire that always left him feeling the need to protect her, even if it was from her own feelings at times. Perhaps it was because she, too, was from the city and had relocated her entire life to try something new. He found himself furrowing his brow as he looked at his grandfather.

Is Gramps telling her to just push Cliff out of her mind? Like she's going to be able to do that!

His own stomach twisted in anxiety of the memory of his unconscious friend lying in the hospital bed. It was more than just that…

"Gramps-"

"A cup of tea won't take your problems away, but there is no shame in taking a moment to slow down and regain yourself."

The young man's words died in his throat; he sometimes wondered if Saibara could read minds. He accepted a carefully placed cup of matcha and nodded at his grandfather in wordless thanks despite not being fond of the bitter beverage.

It wasn't long before Saibara had prepared some tea for himself. The three drank in silence. Claire tried her best to allow herself to focus on the pungent flavor of the tea. The heat was a welcome quality; she warmed her fingers against the ceramic, admiring the speckled pale green finish on the cup. It was comforting, she realized.

I hope Elli and Trent can give Cliff something warm to drink…

Saibara looked up thoughtfully from his cup, gently placing it back on the table. "After the rain, the earth hardens."

Everything's going to be okay, Claire told herself, straightening her posture. She watched Saibara quietly get up to put his cup in the sink. She sat in quiet reflection, the pain in her heart easing up a bit.

"Claire…"

She looked up from her nearly empty tea and noticed Gray cocking his head toward her chest. He had hardly touched his drink.

"That photo…"

The young woman looked down to see the photograph Cliff had dropped earlier sticking out of the front chest pocket of her overalls. When they had arrived at the hospital, she had seen it flutter to the ground in the chaos and tucked it there for safekeeping. She removed the picture carefully, setting it on the table before them. The corners were well-worn and the colors had faded a bit; she was honestly surprised it wasn't worse for wear.

"He had it on him when I found him… It's Cliff's," she explained.

"I know." Gray was staring at the picture with furrowed brows, a pained look covering his expression. "I've… seen it before. He used to look at it a lot when he first moved here."

He could still remember the way the light left Cliff's eyes as he clenched the photograph in his quivering fingers. There were days in late winter and early spring when Gray had left for work and come home to see that Cliff hadn't moved from his spot on the windowsill, his eyes haggard and his hair wild. Cliff never spoke those evenings, and as they turned out the lights to sleep, Gray braced to be wakened by his roommate's nightmares later those nights.

Claire's eyes traveled over the photo more closely this time. It depicted a teenage Cliff dressed in a ceremonial yukata, leaning against a large drum. His face still had a bit of childish roundness, and she could tell that he hadn't grown much in height since the picture had been taken. Her gaze traveled to his sparkling eyes. His hair was a little tousled, likely from dancing, and his cheeks were ruddy from activity. She vaguely wondered if she would have found him attractive if she had known him as a teenager, but the thoughts faded as she looked at the other people in the photograph. Two females dressed similarly were accompanying him, and they shared the same deep blue eyes and long chocolate hair.

"It has to be his family," she murmured.

Gray gave a nod, folding his arms across his chest. "I thought he was over this." She heard him gulp as he shifted his posture. "I thought everything was going to be alright." There was a strain in his voice she had never heard before.

"You care about him a lot, don't you?" she whispered.

He looked her in the eye fiercely. "Of course I do! And it's my fault…" Gray's voice cracked as he swallowed, clenching his jaw and balling up his fists.

A small frown was on Claire's lips.

The young man tugged on the bill of his cap. "He was acting off this morning. He was like a zombie, and I just assumed he was groggy. I was in a hurry to leave, and I didn't have the time for him…" He let out a sigh; he could still see his friend, listless and silent. "I should have tried harder getting him to talk… He probably stared at that stupid photo after I left." He looked down at it with disgust and furrowed his brow.

Claire could hear the faucet being turned off. "It is up to the young man whether he wants to be happy or not." Saibara walked back over to the table and sat down with a grunt. "There is only so much you can do."

Gray clenched his fists and his jaw, oblivious to his grandfather's unusually gentle tone. "You're only saying that because I was in a rush to get to work on time."

There was a sadness in Saibara's weary eyes as he dropped the subject, sinking into his seat a little.

"I will visit him tomorrow," Claire decided quietly, finishing the last of her tea. She straightened her posture, sitting up with determination. "I'm going to do whatever I can to help."

I wonder how much you'll be able to do. It's likely Trent and Elli are going to tell you to get out of the way…

Gray held his tongue.

A recipe for hot soup was already swirling around in Claire's head. "I should probably be heading out," she pointed out, taking a glance at the clock. The rest had helped her rebalance herself a bit, and she was eager to throw herself into something she could do to assist. "Thank you for the tea and company. I… really needed it."

Gray was already standing up and putting on his coat. "I'll walk you home."

She blinked in surprise, pulling on her jacket and missing the arm hole. She couldn't remember how many times she had ached to hear those words. They were still welcome now, but the soft glow in her chest felt different.

"Unless you'd rather walk by yourself, that is."

Gray visibly flinched at the dirty look Saibara was giving him. He gave Claire a wry smile as he opened the door for her.

"Ladies first."

Their walk to Mystic Acres was a silent one. Claire wasn't sure if it was her imagination or not, but there were several times it looked like Gray opened his mouth to speak and stopped himself. She finally decided it wouldn't hurt to ask if something was on his mind. Their relationship had grown less strained than it had been in the summer, she reasoned. Just as she was about to say something, Gray spoke.

"Well, here we are." The authoritative tone in his voice mimicked his grandfather's.

She was unsure if she was expected to invite him inside. If she was honest with herself, she was eager to unwind and get some sleep. She looked over at Gray. The warmth in his expression was unfamiliar.

"Try to get some sleep."

She gave him a quick nod, her ears perking up at the sound of coyotes in the direction of Mother's Hill. Her thoughts turned to the resident of the cave in that area.

"What about Cain? Do you think he'll be alright with Cliff gone?"

Gray looked thoughtful. "Huh… I'll stop by Gotz's and we'll figure it out." He paused, noticing the way a small frown played at her lips. "Don't worry – we'll all work together to take care of Cliff." He put a heavy hand on her shoulder and gave it a pat.

Claire's voice was strained, her eyes distrusting. While it was true that they were no longer at odds with each other, his friendliness toward her was startling. The words slipped out before she could stop them. "Why… why are you being so nice to me?"

He didn't remove his hand from her, but he averted his eyes in shame. "I never meant to give you the idea I wasn't nice…"

Her heart dropped and she shrank back a bit. "I-I'm sorry. Forgive me; that was really rude of me." Claire hung her head, chastising herself for her misstep.

The squeeze he gave her shoulder was gentle but friendly. Change had come slowly to him, but it wasn't for lack of trying. He could remember a time when he could say he didn't like Claire, but it was more out of annoyance than anything. As he watched Claire and Cliff blossom as they became closer, Gray began to look at her differently; perhaps she wasn't as obnoxious as he originally thought.

He shook his head. "Nah, I get it. I guess I shouldn't be surprised you feel that way." He frowned, looking away. "There are… a lot of things I don't like about myself. Mary says that's okay, but… she says I have to be willing to do something about it, you know? I can't wait for something to happen – I have to make my own change."

She gave him a nod. His girlfriend's affect on him was noticeable. "I can already see one, to be honest."

The smile on his lips was genuine. "Thanks."

His arms wrapped around her in a warm embrace. Just as she remembered from back in the spring, his hugs were tighter than expected; her eyes widened in surprise.

"We're going to make sure Cliff's okay," he murmured.

She felt her body relax a bit as the snow continued to fall around them. "Yeah…"

Elli listened to the soft beeping of the monitors at her side, looking out the window at the heavy flakes falling from the sky. The moonlight that had managed to break through the clouds reflected off the snow on the ground, illuminating the night.

"It sure is beautiful out there," she murmured.

Trent adjusted the bag on the IV. "Beautiful but dangerous." There was little emotion in his voice.

The slight smile on her lips faded as the doctor looked back down at his notes, scribbling as he walked back into his office. Elli let out a small sigh as she took a seat at the stool by the hospital bed, watching the slow rising and falling of Cliff's chest. The patient had fallen back into a deep sleep, and the worry lines on his forehead had faded for the time being. She was surprised how relieved it made her feel.

Cliff had struck her as a terribly lonely person at first glance. He had practically cowered in the corner the first time she brought Stu and May to the church and saw him there. There was a distinct sadness in his eyes as they flicked to the children. As May and Stu eagerly told the pastor about their morning, Elli watched the young man hovering behind Carter, opening and closing his mouth as if he wanted to speak. He was nervously fidgeting with his bracers and leaning in to join the conversation before nervously stepping back, lowering his eyes to the floor.

By summertime, she had gone to the courtyard to pick them up and found them giggling with Cliff as he taught them how to make daisy chains, wearing one around his own head. Sometimes he'd be playing on his flute while Carter sang religious songs with the children, and on more than one occasion, Cliff had been teaching them about the local wildlife (he quickly learned that Elli was not as impressed by the caterpillars and stag beetles as Stu was). Regardless of this last instance, she could see that he thrived being around people, and it had been rewarding to watch him open up with others, even if she had only been observing from a distance.

Gray and Saibara had already stopped by to check on their friend, with Duke and Manna not far behind. A grave-faced Carter had just left a few minutes before, leaving her with an uneasy feeling. The normally talkative priest had said very little during his visit, giving Cliff's hand a gentle pat and promising to visit again the next day.

"You have a lot of friends who care about you." Elli pulled the blankets up to his chin.

Cliff didn't move. His breathing was deep and slow, a good sign that he was finally getting peaceful rest.

"Dream of something happy," she whispered.

The rust colored egg twitched, the cracks becoming more prominent. Cliff held his breath. He had forgotten how long he had waited for this moment. Nothing existed but them and the egg resting on the table.

"A strong little fighter, huh?" Flint's voice was just above a whisper.

The two watched in silence as the egg split, a tiny foot poking out. While pink and fresh, it was still adorned with little talons. Cliff was certain they were sharp despite their newness. The little foot grasped blindly at the air before lying still for a moment, gathering its strength for its next effort to break free.

Cliff leaned forward, peeking into the crack. With so little exposed, it was hard to see what was inside. The boy had watched multiple hatchings, but his heart pounded in his throat as he watched the egg rock back and forth once more.

A few weak chirps emanated from the shell.

"Your little friend is calling out to you." Flint gave his son a grin, a playful twinkle lighting up his eyes.

Cliff couldn't hear his words. Spellbound, he was focused on the egg – his egg.

Please let there be two feet, two wings, and a beak…

With a soft crack the shell gave way and the exhausted, reddened body of a peregrine falcon tumbled out, sparsely covered in damp white feathers. Eyes closed and completely exhausted, the new life let out a tired little chirp from its petite yet sharp beak.

"Hello."

Cliff's wide eyes shone with affection as his chin rested on the edge of the table. A lump formed in his throat as tears freely rolled down his cheeks, oblivious to the proud dampness on his father's face. In that moment, the twelve-year-old forgot that he would normally feel ashamed of crying so openly. His heart was soaring. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and rested his chin back on the table's surface, an unabashed grin cracking across his entire face.

"Hello, friend."

Author's Note: Wow, this chapter ended up turning into so much more than I thought it would be (and about double the size!). I hope you liked it! I wanted to name the chapter after the relationships Cliff has with Ann and Gray, who were featured a lot here. I'm looking forward to adding more Elli in the future; she's a lot of fun to write.

I'm going to need to work out a timetable for these chapters. The next few chapters are very heavy and emotional (as I hope these past ones were for you as well). I just don't want the pacing to feel like it's getting bogged down, but there are so many things I need to add in here! Therefore, I'm going to try to produce these a bit faster so the mood doesn't get too terribly heavy. Well, it feels heavy to me, anyway. I hope I was able to make you feel something! I appreciate your kind words as always, and thank you for reading along!