Cliff finished singing, looking up to his mother nervously for approval.

Katrina's lips were curled into a warm smile. "Beautiful," she gushed, ruffling her son's hair.

The corners of Cliff's mouth twitched upward. "You really think so?" He was grateful that his voice had stopped cracking a few months before and had settled into a warm tenor. It still was taking a little getting used to, but the praise his mother showered upon him never hurt.

She gave him a confident nod. "You're doing so well. A nice, strong voice. Maybe I should have you lead the songs tomorrow night." She smirked at him, giving him a playful wink.

His eyes widened in shock. "M-Ma! I'm not ready-!"

She gave him a soft chuckle, rubbing the teenager's shoulder. "I think you will be before you know it. I just put the finishing touches on your yukata. You'll look so handsome."

Cliff rolled his eyes, but he made no efforts to quell the warm glow in his heart he got at her doting.

"I'm going to check on the curry. Why don't you work on your sanshin out here for a while?"

Cliff let out a soft sigh. Despite her praises, he couldn't stop his eyes from traveling toward the small shed where Cain and the other birds resided. There were other things he'd much rather be working on. "Sure…"

She wasn't blind to where his gaze had moved. "I have the key to the mews; don't get any ideas." Her voice became stern as she headed back inside.

Papa would've let me take a break…

Cliff furrowed his brows and closed his eyes, trying his best to choke down his frustrations. It didn't do well to complain about it; he knew that already. If it hadn't been for that fateful hunt that resulted in his father's death, the calluses on Cliff's fingers would have been from training on a hunting bow, not on a stringed instrument.

He plucked away at the sanshin, the music slowly lifting his spirits. The hunters were coming home the next day, and a feast was planned. Happy occasions called for upbeat music that was easy to dance to. It was fun to play as well.

"Well, at least we get to go out on the next hunt." A voice caused Cliff to look up from his instrument.

Two teenagers were walking down the path with bows and quivers strung to their backs.

"But target practice is sooo boring," the other boy whined, dragging his feet as they continued along.

Cliff continued strumming on his sanshin.

"At least we're learning something useful." A sharp smirk was given in Cliff's direction.

The other boy stifled a snort, shuffling his bow on his back. "Yeah, it must be nice getting to play around all day. Too bad my ma won't beg the elder to get me out of work."

Cliff's fingers slipped and the instrument let out a loud twang as he dropped the pick. The boys laughed as they continued along. Cliff felt his cheeks burn as he averted his eyes to the ground, too flustered to retrieve his pick.

"Rowan's going to be mad if y'all keep showing up late!" Ivy's voice caused Cliff's ears to perk up.

He watched as the two friends straightened their posture a bit. "Yeah, yeah," they mumbled, disgruntled. Cliff couldn't help but notice that they picked up their pace.

There was a spring in Ivy's step as she made her way to her brother. "Got done foraging!" Her large eyes moved to the shell pick lying on the ground as she hoisted the large pack of herbs and wild greens off of her back. Her face fell a little. "Oh… are you done practicing already?"

"Uh, yeah…" he replied distractedly. He felt a lump form in his throat. "I-I'll be inside in just a few minutes."

She gave him a concerned look and her eyes moved down the path, focusing on the retreating forms of the boys from earlier. She snapped her gaze back to her brother, her braids moving along with her. "Did they-?"

"No," Cliff cut her off. "It's fine."

Her eyebrows rose in surprise for a brief moment before knitting. A frown formed on her lips. "Alright then, fine." The thirteen-year-old's voice was terse. "I was just trying to help." She lifted her pack and headed toward the house.

Cliff's throat tightened as he watched her stalk off. It was too early to go into the house; his mother would be furious that he had stopped practicing. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. It was likely she had heard the music stop. Ivy wasn't the tattling sort, but he wasn't going to take his chances. Picking up the sanshin, he dashed around the corner of their hut and propped up the instrument alongside the back of the house. Ivy was already irritated with him, and he didn't want another scolding from his mother… They had become more frequent lately.

His heart pounded as he realized tomorrow night he would have to perform for the feast in front of the hunters and those in training.

Again.

"At least we're learning something useful."

They'd never openly made fun of him around the adults, but there was a first time for everything. It was hardly a secret that he was a laughingstock of his peers. Perhaps the only one who didn't know was his mother. He bit his lip as he hurried over toward the mews, tugging on the handle to the door. The chain clanked as he pulled, the lock rattling at him as if to spite him.

"I have the key to the mews; don't get any ideas."

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks as his breath caught in his throat.

"Cain…" His voice was strained and began to crack. He gave the door another tug and choked on a sob. It didn't do any good to startle the birds inside with the racket he was making. He leaned against the door and slid down, landing roughly on the ground, trying to steady his breathing. He forgot about formulating a story to tell his mother if she asked about his practicing, or lack of it.

He thought of Flint's face – his warm eyes and thick beard. He remembered those strong calloused hands putting together this very shed for the birds.

Out of the silence came a bright, curious chirp. Cain.

The teenager could still hear the amusement in Flint's voice.

"Your little friend is calling out to you."

A fresh batch of tears wetted Cliff's face. All he could focus on was how unfair it all was.

Claire opened her eyes, her eyelashes crusted together with dry tears. She stirred and let out a contented sigh as she felt her friend's familiar fingers run through her hair.

"How are you feeling?" Karen's voice was gentle.

Claire lifted her head from the pillow propped against Karen's side. Her mouth was dry and she felt a bit empty, if she was completely honest with herself. After locking her door for the night, Claire found that she still had tears left to cry. It had been relieving in a way, and she was free to let out all of her feelings without fear of making anyone uncomfortable.

Karen had knocked on her door that morning, a batch of warm corn muffins in a paper sack and a thermos of hot herbal tea in her hands.

They had sat together in silence and Claire was surprised to find that silent tears continued to slip out. She wasn't much in the mood for talking about things, and she was grateful that Karen didn't pressure her to. Gathering a soft pillow and blanket from the bed, the two sat quietly and watched television as they waited for the clinic to open. Exhausted, Claire had drifted off to sleep and Karen kept a doting, watchful eye on her.

"I'm doing alright." Claire's voice was tired. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, her hair and clothes a bit disheveled. "How about you?"

The question seemed to take Karen a bit by surprise. Her eyes softened. "I… I just want to see him."

Claire gave a shaky nod. "I imagine the clinic must be open." Her pulse immediately picked up at this realization and she wobbled as she pulled herself to her feet.

"Well, I would think some hot tea and a corn muffin will do Cliff some good, too!"

Claire could hear the rustling of bags as Karen prepared her things on the table behind her. The blonde's eyes were drawn to a weather-beaten photograph resting on her nightstand.

Cliff's mother… Ivy…

She gulped as she picked up the photo and a pang of guilt struck her as she remembered Maria's tidy handwriting.

"Ivy has been looking for you…"

Claire didn't realize her hands were shaking until she tugged on her nightstand drawer, retrieving the crisp white envelope. She placed her hand over her breast, her throat tightening.

I may lose him…

Her posture stiffened.

I… I can't be selfish.

She slipped both items into her bag as she pulled on her borrowed corduroy jacket.

"Ready to head out?" Karen's sharp eyes had picked up on the shift in mood.

Claire gave a solemn nod.

0o0o0o0

The fatigue in Elli's eyes was unmistakable.

"I'm sorry. He's not ready for visitors yet." She gave them a sad smile. "I'll be sure to let him know you stopped by."

They weren't expecting the same response the next day.

There was considerable strain on the nurse's face, and dark circles accompanied the bags under her eyes. "I'm sorry," she repeated. She hated that she sounded like a broken record, but there was not much else she could say.

The soft sound of mellow music was playing from behind the fabric partition, and Claire felt herself instinctively relaxing as she caught a strong whiff of lavender oil.

"Are you able to tell us how he is doing?" She bit her lip as she wrung her hands.

Elli's eyes warmed a bit. "We were able to raise his body temperature, but there are a lot of things we need to keep our eyes on." She hesitated, shifting her feet a bit. "We're just… running a few tests to check on a few things."

"Tests?" Claire's mind began racing against her better judgment. The lack of quality sleep she had been getting didn't help the situation.

She was given an apologetic look in response. "I'm sorry that I can't really go into detail… Just want to make sure the problem isn't a sign of something more serious and we need to rule out a few things." The halfhearted smile she attempted wasn't fooling anyone into relaxing.

"But we can't see him?" Karen's voice was on edge. She craned her neck, attempting to look around the privacy screen. "Does he even remember what happened the other day?"

Elli lowered her eyes. "We're… not sure."

"Has he asked for us? His best friends?"

A pained look crossed Elli's face. "Karen, please…"

The brunette's eyes filled with tears. "Has he asked for Claire, at least?" Her voice cracked.

The nurse gave them a sympathetic look. "He's not speaking," she admitted in a whisper.

Claire's heart stopped for a moment as her throat tightened. "M-maybe I can-"

Elli shook her head, keeping her voice low. "He's… very distressed." She frowned, casting a look at the blue fabric partition. "We only want to do what is best for him right now, and that means quiet and rest."

Karen's eyes hardened. "Look, I would think that letting him see his lover right now would only help things."

A pair of brown eyes traveled to Claire. Worry was written on Elli's brow. "Claire, please understand… He's… not himself right now."

The young woman didn't realize how emotional she was until she felt her eyes fill with tears. She fought the urge to push past the privacy screen and choked back her frustration. "I-It's okay. Please let me know if there's anything I can do." Her shoulders slouched a bit as her heart dropped.

"We'll be sure to get a hold of you."

Claire gave a weak nod, letting out an inward sigh. It looked that that day was going to be another one full of fruitless worry.

Her ears perked up as Karen broke her silence. "Well, I'm his cousin! That has to count for something, right? I'm family!" Her voice cracked as she clenched her fists.

Elli's eyebrows rose in surprise.

"So we can see him then, right?" As Karen moved forward a bit, Claire found herself conflicted over whether to encourage this behavior.

"I'm afraid not." Elli frowned. She saw Karen grit her teeth and straightened her posture. "Please don't turn me into a villain. We're doing the best we can to help Cliff recover."

"And just how do you intend on doing that?" Claire flinched at the harshness in Karen's voice. "I was able to come in and see Claire when she had heat exhaustion!"

"I'm afraid this is a different case," Elli replied. "Please, rest assured that between me, Doctor Trent, and Father McKenzie, we will make sure his needs are taken care of."

Elli often spoke in a motherly tone, and Karen found it irritating in this particular instance. However, the last name mentioned caught her attention. "Carter?"

Elli nodded in response. "He'll be coming in later today."

"So, friends can visit, but we're just not on the list." Tears stung at Karen's eyes. She took a small step forward and was surprised when Elli intervened, drawing herself up to her full height.

"If you truly care about Cliff, you'll let him recover a bit. He's… not well." Elli's tone was firm despite her softened eyes.

The stalemate seemed to last an eternity, green eyes piercing into brown. Without a word, a couple of tears streamed down Karen's cheeks. Seething, the young woman whirled on her heel and flew outside.

"I'll send Carter to you when Cliff is available for visiting, alright?" A gentle touch at Claire's arm caught her attention.

She gave the nurse a sad smile. "Thank you." Turning toward the door, she didn't think to bid Elli goodbye as she caught up with her friend.

Karen stormed ahead, her hands jammed into her pockets. Claire had to jog to keep up with her. The brunette stopped suddenly in her tracks, and Claire narrowly avoided a collision.

"Me, Mom, and Dad are the only family Cliff has out here… And I feel like I'm the only one out of us three that gives a damn about him." She wiped her eyes with her forearm, turning to face her. "Maybe if he had more support from people who were actually related to him, he wouldn't h-have…" Karen choked on a sob and sniffled.

How many people know? Does everyone realize he had a meltdown, or do people just think he got too cold?

Claire's attention was pulled back toward her friend.

"Mom still won't talk about her – her sister."

"Cliff said that their mothers had some sort of falling out." Claire's voice was gentle.

Karen nodded, clenching her jaw. "I wanted to ask her about it… Dad says not to upset her. I'm so sick of not being allowed to have real conversations. If I can't talk to Mom about it, I want to talk to Cliff."

The letter sitting in Claire's pack suddenly felt very heavy. She could still see the kind, yet concerned gleam in Maria's pleading eyes as she handed the envelope off to her. The worry lines on her forehead were not unlike those that were etched into Barley's when he spoke of Joanna.

"Even people that mean well sometimes cause more harm than good by trying to rush things… Family matters… They're often complicated and need to be handled with care. One wrong move, and it can undo everything."

Claire frowned, nervously rubbing her arm. She turned her attention toward her friend. "I don't know if Cliff's ready for something like that just yet… This… doesn't seem like a good time."

Karen's eyes widened and it caught Claire off guard when she saw the mistiness in them. "I know that…" She let out a wistful sigh as she slowed her walking. "But… I want to have a closer bond with him eventually. In a way, I feel like I owe it to him."

"Are you not already good friends with him?"

Karen's lips formed a thin line. "I am. And that's exactly why I need to know why we're not important enough to see him right now." Her brows knitted once more as she pushed onward toward the church. "I'm going to get to the bottom of this."

"I don't know if talking to Carter is really going to help with anything…" Claire's voice died in her throat as Karen cast a cold look over her shoulder. It was easy to see that she was livid, and Claire actually felt a little afraid of her.

The doors to the church were thrown open. Carter looked up from the papers strewn across the altar. "Ah, Karen and Claire." His voice was level and if he was affected by the look on the brunette's face, his own expressions didn't show it.

"So I have a question for you, Mister High and Mighty." Karen's tone was sharp as she stomped down the aisle. "What makes you so damn important that you have priority over family?" She spit the words out like venom, her eyes misting up once more.

"Karen!" Claire pulled at her arm, mortified at her friend's behavior. "You shouldn't swear in front of a priest!" she gasped.

To her surprise, the calm face Carter wore remained unchanged. "Oh Claire, I've heard and been called much worse; it comes with the profession." He turned his attention to Karen. "You're upset about Cliff, too…" Worry lines covered his forehead.

"What gave you that impression?" Karen snapped. As the words left her, her shoulders slumped. When she spoke again, her voice was soft, quivering. "C-Carter… Why can't we see him?"

"Doctor Trent asked me to come over later to offer Cliff some therapy. I'm hardly going there for a friendly call."

His words did little to change her mind. Karen clenched her fists. "You really expect me to believe that you aren't going to hang out? I've come in here and you two are sipping tea together!"

Why are we being excluded from this?!

Carter's voice remained level. "We are friends, but today I am going to visit him as priest and mentor… It's not going to be a fun visit… Doctor Trent is working on his physical health, and I'm doing a check up on his mental health. Surely you understand now?"

Karen's mind began to race.

Dad must've put him up to this when he visited the church the other day… He's afraid of me asking Cliff about his mom… I'm sick of being manipulated and left in the dark!

She clenched her jaw, shaking her head as a couple of tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Come, let's talk." The priest put a serene hand on her shoulder and guided her to the confessional, pulling the door shut.

The church was eerily quiet as Claire stared at the flickering remembrance candles lining the wall. A little unsure of what to do, she plopped down in the front pew, letting out a tired sigh.

This is the same exact place I first met him…

She looked up at the stained glass windows. It was a familiar view; in the earlier days of her friendship with Cliff, they had spent a lot of time in the church together. It didn't bother her that much of their time together was spent in silent meditation and prayer. The quiet time throughout the months had often helped ease her spirit, and the film of anxiety that hung over her like a damp cloth her whole life had mostly melted away. Talking with Carter had helped as well; it felt wonderful to have someone speak to without fear of judgment. Claire frowned. Obviously, the church hadn't been as helpful for Cliff's own problems as she had once thought. She was aware that he often bottled things up when he was worried about something, and it seemed that he had finally reached his breaking point.

But he wasn't weak; he was simply stretched too thin and he needed some sort of release. Claire knew from the moment they met that he had a heavy burden of emotional baggage. She had listened to snippets of his past life with hungry ears, eager to learn more about him. Claire got the distinct feeling that he hadn't really opened up with anyone before moving to Mineral Town and she always tried to encourage him to talk without pressuring him.

Perhaps I should have asked more questions. Obviously my method wasn't helping him.

I wasn't enough.

A couple of tears fell into her lap. She should have been a stronger friend and partner for Cliff. He could have leaned into her more and she could have been his sanctuary. Instead, she just assumed that everything had been fine.

How could I have been so blind?

The door to the confessional creaked open and a red-nosed Karen emerged. She took a seat beside Claire and let out a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Claire…" She slumped down a bit, staring ahead. "I've been pretty selfish today, huh?"

Lost for a reply, her words caught in her throat. She took her friend's hand and gave it a squeeze.

"The past couple of days have been trying for all of us." Carter's gentle words caused them both to look up. He turned toward Claire, extending a hand out to her as one would coax out a frightened animal. "Claire, a word?" He cocked his head back toward the ajar confessional door.

Her throat instinctively tightened as she gave a slight nod, accepting the offered hand. The soft hand moved to her back as he followed her into the confessional, closing the door behind them.

"How are you feeling?" The words left his mouth before they took their seats.

Claire plopped down on the comfy armchair, grateful it was there – her knees suddenly felt weak. Her breath left her for a brief moment and she wanted nothing more to close her eyes and take a nap. She gave the priest a halfhearted smile. "I'm a-alright..." Her voice cracked as her lips trembled and her false smile broke. Tears refused to come, but she was alright with that; she had grown tired of crying.

She looked up to see that Carter's own mask had slipped. Concern was in his eyes despite his soothing tone. "Everything is going to be alright. The gods are always watching over us, and that includes Cliff as well."

Claire gave a meek nod, but her frown grew. "This… this should have never happened." She hung her head, her blonde locks obscuring her face. The guilt was overwhelming. "I'm partly to blame for all of this."

Maybe not even partly. Entirely.

"What do you mean?"

"I should have been there for him when he needed me."

"But you were there for him," Carter reminded her. "You were the one that found him outside. If he had stayed out there for much longer, he might have had some permanent health issues. I've been told he's expected to make a full recovery."

She shook her head. "You mean it's thanks to you and Doug for carrying him to the hospital. It's thanks to Ann for comforting him, and it's thanks to Elli and Trent for taking care of him. I… I've been useless." Her words became bitter as she gripped the armrests of the chair, her brow furrowing. "I've done nothing and I can do nothing." She bit her lip.

"It's understandable to feel helpless in a situation like this, but I can assure that you've played a role in helping him recover," Carter offered.

"I… I just want to see him," she whispered, "but… I'm also afraid to."

"What has you afraid?"

Her mind was bombarded with the lifeless look in Cliff's eyes, the unsteady rising and falling of his chest, the lack of warmth in his body when she kissed him last. Ann's jealousy had her uncomfortable, and Karen's anger was another worry of hers, as was Gray's guilt. Maria's pleading words in the letter in her bag came to mind.

What if this place is no good for him? If no one here is? What it… I'm no good for him?

"… A lot," she murmured.

They sat silently for a few minutes while Carter allowed her to collect her thoughts and open up to him when she was ready. She thought of the letter once more, and her heart pounded in her throat uncomfortably.

What if he wants to see his family again?

Maybe it's for the best… but I can't bear hearing Carter say it aloud…

She heard Carter shift in his seat.

He's waiting for you to talk. Say something; you're being rude.

She frantically picked through her thoughts.

Karen… yeah, Karen was just in here to see him. The memory already felt foggy despite its newness.

"It seems Karen is feeling better." She hoped the change of subject wasn't as abrupt as she felt.

"She has a lot on her mind," he responded.

Claire searched for the meaning in his words, analyzing if he was using a pointed tone at her. Regardless, she felt the words slip out of her mouth before she could stop herself. "I know the feeling."

More silence.

"Cliff confided in me that you two are romantically involved now."

Her stomach twisted as a jolt went to her heart. Claire gave a nod, her posture drooping even more.

I don't know how much longer that is going to last, even if I do love him. I wasn't enough…

"I'm… worried," she finally confessed.

"Please know that we're going to do everything we can to help Cliff." Carter reached forward and gave her hand a pat.

Her words caught in her throat as her eyes welled up with unwilling tears. "B-but I should have…"

"When he is ready, he'll tell you everything."

Carter's words took her by surprise. She blinked the tears out of her eyes as she sat up, her heart throbbing in her chest.

I know it's not going to be easy, but… this needs to happen.

"I… want to believe I'm worth confiding in." She hoped the fear in her voice wasn't apparent.

Deep sympathy covered his features. "Claire… Please understand that it is not due to a lack of your worthiness. Cliff has put off facing his emotions for years, and it's taken him some time to learn how to process things and express himself in a healthy manner. Your kindness towards him has worked wonders. Don't ever doubt that."

"It… can be hard," she confessed, her voice strained.

The warm hand on hers was slightly trembling. "I know."

Carter blew on the end of the incense to encourage a smolder. He stole a glance at the patient beside him, forcing a friendly smile on his face. "Ah, there we go… This is rosemary scented. Picked it up when I was traveling a few years ago. It's one of your favorites, no?"

His smile faded as he sat back down quietly on the chair beside the hospital bed, taking in the herbal scent. As expected, the patient lying beside him didn't respond. Carter cleared his throat softly.

"Elli tells me that you're not speaking." His voice was soft.

Cliff said nothing as he closed his eyes and turned his head away, a deep exhaustion covering his features.

"If you don't tell them how you are feeling, they're going to have a difficult time treating you."

Cliff didn't bother to open his eyes.

I see…

It was like many times before; the exhausted body language, the lifeless eyes… The priest was no stranger to emotional visits in the confessional with him, but this seemed to be an even deeper level of despair than he had dealt with in the past. Carter crossed his ankles and settled into his seat. His eyes traveled to the thin trail of incense smoke. Gentle words were necessary.

"There are many things that I never would have expected to learn through the priesthood…" His gaze moved back toward Cliff. "One of the more unusual things I picked up is called the language of flowers. Did you know that different plants and flowers have different symbolism? Weddings, funerals, offerings to the gods… I've almost always got flowers in the church somewhere." He paused, twiddling his thumbs. "Do you remember when spring started and you were so excited to see things growing again? You brought me a huge bundle of rosemary and taught me to make tea. You've always been fond of it, from what I understand."

Carter let out a light chuckle, recalling the excitement on Cliff's face as he brought the offering to him. He had been so eager to thank him in some way for counseling him. Carter's smile faded once more. Cliff's happy expression was a far cry from the worried eyebrows and slight frown on his face right now. He had, however, gotten him to open his eyes, which was a vast improvement.

"Do you know what rosemary symbolizes?"

He knew he wouldn't get an answer to his question. Out of the corner of his eye, Carter could see that Cliff had turned his head to watch him.

"It represents remembrance and reflection. Taking time to dwell on what has passed and making peace with that."

The frown on Cliff's lips grew and he looked away again.

"I know what you did, Cliff. And I know what you didn't do. It is not my place, nor is it anyone else's, to judge. I wasn't there. I didn't grow up in that same environment. But I can tell you this – you were a child. You were scared. You missed your father and the future you could have had with him."

He stopped speaking for a moment to check on his friend. Tears were prickling at the corners of Cliff's eyes, but he stubbornly blinked them away.

"Would you hate me if I had done the same thing?"

Carter's eyes searched Cliff's as they sat in silence. The young man's brows furrowed in concentration and Carter could see that an answer was not easily reached. Part of him wondered if he was afraid of agreeing with him, thinking it would lessen his resolve. Cliff was very adamant about his beliefs when it came to how he had handled his past, after all.

No one said anything for several minutes. Carter watched as the last of the incense burned out, the final wisps of smoke disappearing above their heads.

"It's something to think about, that's for sure." He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of rhodonite. The polished rose and black stone reflected the sterile hospital lights above them. "Gray asked me to bring this by – your worry stone. He thought it would bring you some comfort." He held it out to him but the patient made no motion to retrieve it from him. He thought Cliff would be eager to do something with his hands, judging from the bruises around his wrists from the restraints. A sad smile found its way onto Carter's lips as he gingerly placed the stone on the table. "I'll give you some time to think about it… There are others who are concerned about you," he ventured. Carter stood up and quietly left the room, leaving Cliff alone with his thoughts.

The young man's brows were still knitted as he closed his eyes, worry lines etched into his forehead.

Carter had only just walked from behind the curtained partition when Trent popped his head out of his office, his eyes nervously darting toward him. The priest walked into the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

"How did it go? Is he speaking again?"

Carter gave him a sad shake of the head. "It's like you said before – this is more than a simple case of hypothermia. Cliff has a lot of things to sort out."

The doctor cradled his forehead in his hands and rested his elbows on his desk. "He's not healing as quickly as he should…" A sigh escaped him. "If I were a better doctor, I would know how to deal with this, how to make him better."

Ellen's legs, Jeff's stomach pains, Lillia's constant suffering…

Is Cliff simply going to be added to my list of failures?

The doctor looked up when he felt Carter's hand on his shoulder.

"You mustn't blame yourself, Trent. It's not as if this is the first time I've given Cliff counseling; he has seen me since he moved here. He's been very – how do you say it – stuck in the mindset that his problems define who he is. It's a mental obstacle he needs to overcome, and it has nothing to do with your care."

Trent's frown lessened only slightly and the priest wondered if he was seeing Carter's care as a sort of failure as well. Trent's throat tightened for a moment and stopped when he saw the tiredness in Carter's gaze. He suddenly became aware of the creases on his forehead, the bags under his eyes.

"When it comes to an ailment of the spirit… There's still only so much I can do. I may be Cliff's mentor, but there are some things he has to do on his own."

Is that not his job?! To make him take that step?!

Trent could feel his blood boiling. Despite that fact that they were good friends, he failed to understand Carter's resolve. "If that's the case, then what was the whole point-?"

The calmness reflected on the priest's face irritated him. "We are only human, Trent. A person has to be willing to make a change."

The doctor's fists clenched. They didn't always see eye to eye; their semi-regular debate nights in the church over a bottle of wine had proven that on more than one occasion. One thing he couldn't ignore, however, was the way Carter dismissed this so flippantly. "You seem to be taking this rather well, despite claiming to be close with him."

The slight tone of jealousy didn't go unnoticed. "I'll be back tomorrow," Carter assured him, his voice firmer than usual. He slipped on his coat and hat, tucking his religious text under his arm. Without waiting for a reply, he calmly walked out of the hospital, his face stoic as he blinked the mistiness out of his eyes.

The hospital was eerily quiet. Elli rearranged the bottles in the medicine cabinet to keep herself busy, and the clanking felt deafening. While she knew Carter's call wasn't a social one, his abrupt departure left her uncomfortable. Her eyes flicked to Trent's office door, which was cracked open.

Something must have happened…

It wasn't the first time treatment hadn't solved everything for a patient, and while she felt the need to comfort Trent, a small part of her was dreading seeing him in this state once more. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and made her way to his office, quietly letting herself in.

Trent made no motion that he had noticed her. His pen scratched at his notes. As usual, his desk was disorganized. Papers were strewn about, but Elli knew well enough that he had a convoluted method to the madness. Her eyes flicked to the words he was writing.

Unstable… Panic attacks and extreme anxiety paired with severe depression… So far, talk therapy has been-

He dropped the pen with a sigh and leaned back in his chair, the furniture creaking as he did so. The furrowed brow, the defeat on his expression – it reminded her of his visits with her grandmother.

Elli hated it when he made that face.

Gulping, she leaned on the edge of his desk, forcing him to look at her. "You're doing everything you can." She hoped her voice sounded more confident than she felt. She recalled the multiple times she saw their patient brooding in the church. "Cliff… he seems predisposed to mental health problems." Surely Trent could see that the fact Cliff wasn't recovering was partially out of their control. It was hard to heal someone who was in this kind of state.

"That's not the point!" Trent's voice was sharp as he thumped his fist on the desk. "What kind of doctor can't make their patient feel better?"

She had never heard his frustrations expressed so openly and she found herself taken aback. Still, Elli's eyes softened. "You are a medical doctor," she continued. "His temperature is back to normal. We found that he didn't suffer from a stroke and he had no drugs in his system. He only had a very minor case of frostbite, and the tests so far look like his heart is strong again."

Trent's eyes moved toward the desk as he gritted his teeth. "He still isn't well." Admittedly, this was the doctor's first case that directly involved mental health, and in a way it terrified him. Yes, Jeff's ulcers were probably brought on by his anxiety, but Trent had never encountered a patient that was so unwilling to open up with him, let alone Carter… Trent frowned as he looked at the blue curtain where he was certain a listless Cliff was lost in his own world. "He's in no state to go home yet…"

"It might just take some time," Elli admitted. She recalled the haunting stare she had seen on their patient's face when she would go to the church to pick up her brother. "I think it's safe to say he's experienced some kind of trauma in his past…" Elli fussed with the cuffs of her sleeves, biting on her lip. Her eyes met his and they shared a helpless look.

We both really are still beginners, aren't we?

She continued. "I… I don't know how much you and I can do to fix what he's been through… You've done all you can to help him become healthy again. It's not like we can force him to feel a certain way… Perhaps if he spends more time with Carter..." She gave a helpless shrug.

The patient doesn't sleep anymore despite the tranquilizers… he refuses to eat or drink… And Carter…

How can he be so calm about the whole thing?

How can everyone be so calm?

Elli… why are you putting your trust in him and not in me?

Trent squared his jaw and let out a silent sigh that Elli did not see. "I see…" He looked back down at his papers and continued to write, his pen making harsh, scratching sounds on the paper. "Why don't you take a break for a while? Go see your grandmother." His words lacked emotion as his eyes remained glued to his scribbling. "Maybe take your family up to the church for some quiet time."

He had never changed the subject so abruptly before, but she was more than aware what he meant by it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Elli spun on her heel and hurried to the other side of the office. Trent tried his best to ignore the hitch in her breath as she threw on her coat and cast herself out into the cold.

Author's Note: Hello to anyone out there who is still reading this! I am really sorry for the lack of updates recently. Between illnesses and work, I had a death in the family recently and it has hit me really hard. I took a bit of a break from writing for a couple of months because it was stressing me out. I felt the need to produce and post things at the same rate I had when I was unemployed. At any rate, I'm sorry this took so long to get out there, but being depressed didn't exactly get me pumped to write about people going through a stressful situation. I also wanted to make sure that what I did post was quality. So, again, I apologize for the wait on this one.

I've attempted to establish a connection with Cliff and the herb rosemary from very early in the story. I felt that what it represented was very suitable for his character, and it felt kind of good to finally write the connection out in the story.

I haven't written much about Trent yet, but my idea for him is that he feels a bit alienated from the rest of the town, being cooped up in the clinic all day. In the game, Carter mentions having Trent over on some evenings for them to debate and talk about issues over a bottle of wine. I wanted to portray Trent as afraid of losing the friend he does have. So many characters are acting out of stress and fatigue in this chapter, so I was concerned about them seeming out of character and regressing a bit. It took a lot of tweaking, but I hope I got it right.

At any rate, I hope you enjoyed, and feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you thought. Thank you for reading.