Claire watched in silence as Gray adjusted the water bottle on his knee.

"Sorry for grumblin' about my leg so much."

She set down her tea. "You weren't."

He chuckled gruffly, running a hand through his hair, causing it to stand ruffled and messy. "Huh, guess that was all in my head, then." He waited in silence as she continued to sip at her tea. He rubbed the crook of his neck, looking up at her shyly. "So, uh… my leg wasn't always like this, y'know. I injured it when I was a kid."

Claire sat up in her seat. She had heard the gist of the story from Thomas, but she was much more interested in hearing straight from the source.

"My parents and I would come to Mineral Town regularly to visit Gramps." A fond smile found itself on his lips as he thought of his carefree vacations playing in the vacant lot, hanging out with the local kids, but particularly the stable that Barley still continued to operate across from the smithy.

He was surprised to hear Claire eagerly interject. "Rick was telling me about the lot of you getting into all sorts of trouble."

She was met with a cackle. "Yeah, we did some stupid stuff, but what little kid doesn't? We'd go to the beach, play in the woods… We were never allowed to trek too far up the mountain trail. We'd just pester the adults in town. I guess we were a bunch of troublemakers – Ann and Karen knew the exact sappy look to give Jeff into letting us all have free candy. We'd play on the vacant lot…"

"And the farm, too, from what the others told me."

A nostalgic look gleamed in his eyes as he massaged his knee. "Rick was always trying to get one of his contraptions to fly in the air."

"He told me about his gliders just the other day."

Gray smirked. "Did he tell you about the time he strapped one of Popuri's paper dolls to one because she tattled on him? I don't think I've ever seen her run so fast after one of his gliders! We'd all try to be the one that caught it as it landed. That one…" Gray took a long drink of tea for added suspense, contemplating the spices in the brew, "landed in a muddy puddle. Ruined the glider and the doll – no survivors. I probably don't need to tell ya both of 'em sulked the rest of the afternoon."

"Saibara would have some sort of wise proverb to say about that."

"Probably something poetic about paper melting in water, but just a fancy rendition of 'snitches get stitches'," Gray replied with a snort. "They were both plenty punished, though – especially Rick. You wanna know why Popuri tattled on him?"

Claire tilted her head curiously.

"He wanted to check on the fertilized eggs. He was handling them and he tripped over the cord to the incubator, forgetting to plug it back in. They lost the whole clutch."

Claire's jaw dropped. Rick's anxiety over his sister taking over more tasks in the coop wasn't easily forgotten.

"He means well, but he gives Popuri too much grief, even today."

Claire's expression softened. "I hope he's forgiven himself."

The tenderness in Gray's voice caught her off guard. "I think… a lot of us need to do that."

Claire could still see Cliff's tears streaming down his face as he sat in the hospital bed, looking down at his worn photograph of his family. "Yeah…"

"I wanted to be a blacksmith as a kid, right from the first time I got to watch Gramps put new shoes on a horse. I thought it meant I got to play with the horses every day. It was so different than life in the city. The city meant school and responsibilities. Why bother going to school when I could just decide to shoe horses for a living? And I could ride in the derby and win first prize every time and make…" Gray's voice cracked, and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he gulped. "Make Dad and Mom proud. Goddess, was I naive…" The smile had long since faded from his face.

A deeper chill filled the room, and Claire got up, removing a couple of old quilts from her bed. She handed Gray one and threw the other one around herself like a cloak, the fabric almost feeling damp with cold. "It's like I said the other day, don't most children want to make their parents happy?"

"And I replied that it's all a bunch of bullshit."

"Can I ask why you feel that way?"

Gray found himself unable to resist her sincere, inquiring eyes. "Don't get me wrong – I didn't always feel that way. When I was a young kid, I wanted them to be proud of me. I got good grades, joined school clubs…"

"Does… well…" Her eyes were locked onto the hot water bottle on Gray's knee. "I, uh, mean… did your injury have anything to do with it?" She inwardly cringed as the rude question escaped her lips.

"Yes and no." Gray finished off his tea, a little disappointed it was gone already. To his surprise, Claire quietly got up and reset the kettle.

"More?"

"Yeah… it's good. It's strangely familiar."

Some color came to Claire's pale cheeks. "Cliff taught me how to make it when we were foraging one day. His father's specialty."

Gray could feel his own cheeks becoming hot. "A man of many talents." The aching in his joints turned his attention back to his knee.

Claire waited in patient silence as she saw his expressions change rapidly, unable to read one before the next one started.

"Looking back on it, I think Dad thought Gramps was an old-fashioned fool. Hell, I guess I do, too, but… in a different way, I guess? His opinion of him really changed after my accident."

Claire felt herself pulling her blanket closer with a shiver.

"You know how Gramps and Barley are friends? When I was a kid, we used to go over there all the time. Like I said, I wanted to be a blacksmith so that I could hang out with the horses all day. Barley gave me my first riding lessons."

He could still see his mother's tremulous smile as she gripped the fence post, her knuckles white. His father, calm as ever, watched on, the sunlight gleaming off of his glasses.

The spotted pony's muzzle tickled his hands and a young Gray giggled with delight as he fed him a handful of grass he plucked from the pasture. Barley's words were slow and gentle, and Gray could still remember giving enthusiastic nods in hopes to hurry him along and let him on the horse already. A step stool was produced and the nimble boy climbed into the saddle with ease.

"I felt so… tall. Huge. Like I was a giant looking down at everyone," Gray mused aloud. "Suddenly, I could see the top of all the adult's heads, and the grass looked so far away. It was damn thrilling." He offered a gentle smile to Claire. "I hope you feel that same way when you start riding."

She hugged her knees to her chest. "It sounds magical."

"That's because it is," Gray stated plainly. "I wanted to chase that high. I craved it. Every moment I was in the vacant lot or hanging out at the inn, I wasn't at the stable. I counted down every last moment before we went back over to Barley's. I needed to be with that pony." The smile faded from his face. "Gramps was watching me one afternoon. Mom and Dad were out, so we went to Barley's. Only, him and Gramps were too busy talking about the 'good old days' over coffee – probably the most boring thing in the world to make a kid sit through."

Claire offered him a sympathetic smile; the guests her parents entertained often did the same and Claire was subjected to sitting stiffly in her chair until she was excused.

"I was stupid, though." His voice cut through the silence. "I let Barley's praise go to my head. He had said I was a natural. I guess I wanted to see if I really was. After all, I already knew how to tack up…"

"Tack up?"

Gray's heart sunk.

I never taught her all that much, did I?

"Add all the stuff on a horse you need to ride. Blanket, saddle, you get the idea."

Claire's eyes moved toward the table's surface as the blood drained from her face. She knew where this story was going.

"I was going to ride by the window and wave to them and they were going to be so impressed. Stupid, stupid, stupid!" He shook his head, tutting.

She began to wonder how much he likely used that mental dialogue. "You were just a kid, Gray."

He opened his mouth and paused, jaw dropped.

Didn't Cliff say something like that just last night?

"It's easy to look back at things when you're an adult and see the mistakes you made. But you didn't understand the recklessness of it then."

Gray made a small grunt of affirmation. "I was riding out in the pasture for a few minutes. It was just like when Barley was showing me, but I was able to do it myself. I was so drunk on… the freedom of it all, y'know? I thought I could handle cantering fine, so how much harder would a gallop be?"

There was a long pause as they both acknowledged just how much more difficult it had been.

"I think I had passed out from the pain at one point. Gramps was yelling his ass off, but I can still remember Barley trying to tell him not to spook the pony. I felt like all the blood was rushing to my head and I was watching the world spinning around me in fast motion, upside down. I was in so much pain, I couldn't feel it. I know that probably doesn't make any sense…" He looked down at the water bottle on his knee. "I sure as hell can feel it now, though. It's a pain in the ass. All just because of something stupid I did as a kid."

"I can't imagine…"

"Barley ended up selling the pony to another farm, and I felt so guilty about it. They were a good pony and didn't do anything wrong… I feel like I owe it to them, and Barley, too… I have to make sure that Tucker is well-behaved and can handle new riders. Granted, you're not a reckless kid… Goddess, will I ever say the right thing?" he groaned, looking up at the ceiling.

"I think that's really kind of you," Claire murmured. "You wanted to make sure I was safe."

"Partly." He was silent as he bit his lip, looking up at her and swiftly back down at his knee.

The whistle of the preheated kettle broke his spell. As Claire brought more tea and the kettle to the table, she could see Gray gripping the edge of the table, snapping his head upward to meet her. She gasped at the sudden movement, but he was undeterred.

"Claire… I've been really selfish when it's come to Tucker. When I look at him, I still see that little pony I rode as a kid. I might have jacked up my leg, but I still can't help myself around horses – I'm just drawn to 'em. And Tucker… I can tell he's a good horse. A… a good heart… if you know what I mean." His pale blue eyes stopped boring into her as they moved toward the wooden slats of the ceiling, his ears turning red.

"He's a wonderful horse, and you've helped me train him to take well to my commands. It means a lot that you were willing to teach me." Claire steadied her hands as she silently prepared the tea. "You... were selfish when it came to Tucker, but so was I."

His eyes widened as she placed the fresh mug in front of him, the scent of spiced tea tickling his nostrils.

"I love him, and I'm so grateful Barley put him in my care, but never should have used Tucker as a way to try to get closer to you. It... wasn't fair to either of you."

"Well, I pretty much did the same thing in reverse, so I screwed up pretty badly, too. I knew you liked me, and I knew that if I played my cards right, I'd get to see Tucker more."

Damn… it sounds even worse when I say it out loud like that...

He stared at the jar of dried tea on the table. "I understand if you'd rather have someone else to help you with him."

Heavy silence hung in the air. A gust of winter wind whipped at the house, but both were deaf to it as they sat, looking at one another.

When Claire finally spoke, her voice was cautious, her words gentle. "Gray… Do you think we can truly say we were the same people we were last spring? People are always growing and changing…"

"Not my dad…"

"Well, maybe not everyone, but… I think we have."

He thought of that morning, waking up curled against Cliff for warmth as the morning sunlight crept through the window.

There's no way I would have opened up to him like I did when he first moved here…

There's no way I would have opened up to anyone like that.

So, what changed? How long has it been since I've been more honest with my feelings?

"I want to keep growing." The instinctive words tumbled from his lips.

"I do, too. Even if I know you're not the person I had built you up to be in my mind back in spring and summer, I know one thing about you that's always been true."

He looked up at her over her mug. "And what's that?"

"You've always been a hard worker."

He snorted, interjecting as he halted his mug mid-drink. "Pah, more like clumsy and stubborn."

"But you keep trying. You think I've never messed up out here?"

His wry laugh caught her off guard. "This is one of those trick questions, isn't it?"

She shook her head, her braids swaying from side to side. "That's not my style. We're both learning as we go, right? Why should it be any different getting to know each other better? We could accomplish both if we work with Tucker together."

Her sapphire eyes glowed with such an earnest quality that Gray caught himself blushing with embarrassment. "I mean, if you're willing to have me, I guess."

He tried to remain nonchalant, but Claire's giggle proved that he had failed.

She beamed. "Then I guess we can be friends, and I guess you can help with Tucker. Under one condition, though."

He didn't realize he was holding his breath. "Oh?"

"We have to be more open and honest with each other about what we want and how we're feeling. It might not be easy at first, but if we want this to work, I think that's going to be necessary. Can we give it a try?" Her eyes moved up towards his, genuine and hopeful.

Gray nodded. "It's something that I've been wanting to work on with other people, too. I've been wanting another chance with you for so long, but you know better than anyone how awful my timing is. I want to start fresh with you." He wasn't aware how hard he was grinning until he felt the discomfort in his cheeks.

Claire cheerfully held out her tea. "Then let's have a toast!"

Mugs clanked together as the two shared laughs, tea, and biscuits, the chill of the winter wind all but forgotten.

Mary looked suspiciously at the platter before her. Delicate finger sandwiches, brownies, and ornate cookies adorned the tray, along with a selection of teas, juice, and, she noticed, an unopened bottle of wine.

"Is that homemade bread?"

Elli's gaze darted toward the fluffy bread holding the sandwiches together. "Yes, it's homemade—I baked it this morning."

"Well, this certainly is a nice surprise." Mary poured her tea with a strained smile. "I can only assume at this spread that Trent won't be partaking with us, then." She felt a strange combination of relief and bitterness that she quickly swallowed back down before it had a chance to reveal on her face.

Elli's face flushed. "Who said anything about Trent? I wanted to do something special for you… and maybe myself, too…"

Her wide brown eyes searched her friend's face as she looked into her own mug and surveyed the table of refreshments she had provided. She wasn't sure, but she felt a deep concern washing over her. "Maybe it is a little lavish, but I wanted this to be a treat. We deserve one, right? Especially after everything we've been going through…" Her smile faded – how much has Mary been going through? "But… now that I'm looking at all this food, I probably shouldn't have taken so much." A hollow laugh echoed in the room as she took in Mary's petite, slim form and she looked down at her own body with a frown – another nagging reminder that she was the heaviest young woman in Mineral Town – nay – the heaviest woman in town.

That's probably why Trent's never seen me as more than a coworker… I can't even keep my body in what's considered a healthy weight for standard parameters… In a way, I'm not practicing what the clinic stands for.

He never commented on it during her checkups, but she couldn't help but wonder if he was silently judging her as he scribbled her weight down on her chart.

"You're free to eat what you want," Mary pointed out, calmly stirring her tea.

Elli stole one more quick look at her friend's figure. It was easy to see when Mary lost weight, and she had noticed her frame looked slimmer than ever. "As are you," was the reply.

Mary's spoon clattered loudly against her cup and went still. The tension in the room grew as the friends silently prepared their drinks, Mary furrowing her brow before hastily adding extra honey to her cup.

Elli was aware of the way things were at Mary's home, and she was a little relieved she was taking in the extra calories. "So what did you want to talk about?"

Mary's eyes were focused on her drink, but Elli could see her shoulders sink. When she didn't reply immediately, Elli was more than happy to step in.

"You know I'd never judge you. I'm your best friend, and it worries me to see you like this."

Mary's eyes snapped upward. "Like what?"

"Well, for starters, a bit anxious, and, if I'm being honest, a little defensive."

Mary gathered her strength to keep her voice steady. "You're right..."

The floodgates opened. "Well, what is it, then? Have you and your mom been fighting again?" Elli finally asked. "What did she say?" She gasped, holding a napkin up to cover her mouth. "Did she catch you and Gray-?"

Mary held up a hand to silence her. The commanding effect it had on Elli left Mary a little perturbed – it was a gesture Anna often used on her, and she was a little disgusted how easily she performed it.

"It was a decision I came up with on my own accord."

"Decision?"

"It's because my mother is so overbearing at times – I need to be a better partner for Gray and stand up to her. I told him that we needed some time to grow. And he needs to sort out his feelings about Cliff – his friends in general, really – he's so afraid of allowing himself to care too deeply for anyone other than me. I… I know he read into it wrong, and I didn't have time to clarify because…" Her face fell. "My parents were coming home."

Elli's eyes grew. "What was there to clarify? Did Gray and Cliff get into another argument...? Your parents coming home? What happened?" Forgetting her self-consciousness, she eagerly bit into a sandwich, leaning in.

When their friendship was new, Mary compared the body language to that of her mother's friends. As she got to know Elli better, however, she knew that while she enjoyed listening what she deemed as "interesting stories", she kept all of Mary's secrets safe, and her responses and advice were always with Mary's best interests at heart, even if they contained harsh truths sometimes.

"I know you've been worn out from work. I don't want to add another concern to your list."

While Elli couldn't discuss the details of her patients, she had to confess her worries had grown. She was a little concerned about Cliff venturing back into the world again. He had admittedly grown on her, and she found that she was already missing his company around the clinic, even though she knew she should be relieved he was no longer under their care.

Still, she felt it was her duty to worry – in many areas of her life, including raising Stu and being a caretaker for Ellen. After all, she wasn't blind to the way Stu's smile had faded over the past week, and how Ellen's eyes reflected guilt when Elli came home to find the two of them munching on cold cereal that Stu had retrieved for their dinner one evening. Splashes of milk and cereal had sloppily been sprinkled across the countertops, only causing her heart to sink lower at the realization she had not left them with a proper meal. The winter weather hadn't been kind on the old woman's joints, and Elli had been too exhausted to prepare something the night before. Stu, who had bragged to all of his friends when he turned eight years old that autumn, had provided them with something to eat that day. It was too much of a burden to ask of a young child.

Despite her worries, things had slowly improved with Cliff's discharge. Carter had been stopping by the clinic more frequently than ever, submitting reports on Cliff's mental health, and that often meant conversations behind closed doors. She had a feeling that only part of their conversations involved the care of their patient, but Trent's face always looked a little more lively as he waved goodbye to the pastor. It left Elli with more time to plan meals in her free time, jotting down things she needed to get done when she got home. After all, there was only so much organizing Elli could do behind her own desk. Of course, there was the routine appointment here and there, but the clinic had grown so lonely as of late.

"You know as well as I do that I'd worry more if you don't tell me. Besides, things are looking up for me. Work's going fine. Trent even seems more upbeat than ever."

"I'm glad you have a little more time to breathe." Mary looked at her friend with concern. "When Claire and I delivered you that pumpkin herring pie, I'd never seen you looked so run-down and ragged."

"Wow, thanks," Elli replied with a roll of her eyes. "But I suppose it would take knowing what that looks like. I don't know how many layers of concealer you're wearing under those eyes, but you're not fooling me."

Mary's mask broke and she set down her cup. "We're not pulling any punches today, are we?"

"You tell me," came the reply.

Mary exhaled deeply, keenly aware of the tension she was holding in her body. "Fine, I'll just get on with it. Gray and I broke up."

Elli choked on her drink, her anxiety growing. "Wait, what? I thought things were going well!"

The frown on Mary's mouth grew. She had rehearsed the lines so many times to herself, but now that she was in front of her friend, she found herself stumbling. "They were… kind of… Well, now that I think about it, maybe they weren't. It was a misunderstanding. I told him we needed to take a break. I've told you how he's been all or nothing about his friends. Or rather, he always seems like he has to pick either me or them, and when he inevitably chooses me, he acts like he hates his friends. He went from telling me he used to have a crush on Cliff to saying he means absolutely nothing to him in practically the same breath."

Elli's eyebrows shot up. "A love triangle? Or is it a square at this point?"

Shaking her head, Mary added some food to her plate. "He doesn't feel that way about him anymore, and I feel like he was really defensive about it."

"I mean, Cliff is pretty attractive," Elli replied with a shrug.

Mary shot her a poisonous look that rivaled Anna's. "You're not helping."

Elli's cheeks flashed crimson. "Sorry. You're right. But if Gray doesn't care about him that way anymore, then what's the issue? It's not like Cliff was like Claire – actively pursuing Gray… right?"

"As far as I know, you're right. But that's not the point." Mary bit into her cookie, contemplating her words.

"Then what is?" Elli pressed.

Mary wiped her fingers and wrapped her arms around herself, her voice quavering slightly. "Gray… finally told me he loved me. I... I didn't want it to happen the way it did, in the middle of an argument, where he felt that he had to say it."

When Elli didn't say anything in reply, Mary found that she was too afraid to look up to read her expression. "He is allowed to have good friends, close friends. In fact, he deserves to; that's normal and healthy. I don't have to – nor do I want to – be the only one to fulfill that role. Being someone's… everything… sounds romantic on paper, doesn't it? But it's not realistic. It's too much to ask of me."

She finally lifted her eyes to see Elli's frown droop further, her whole body deflating. "Maybe it is. You have so much going on in your life."

Is it wrong for me to want to be that for Trent? No, that's a completely different situation...

"And he has a lot, too," Mary responded. "I want him to be happy, but I have a feeling I failed miserably at that. After I told him we needed space and he thought I was dumping him, he got very defensive. He thought that I was implying I couldn't trust him."

"Well, do you?"

Mary paused. "I… trust him not to give into the same weaknesses his father did."

Elli's voice lowered as her eyebrows knitted. "So you think this all has something to do with his dad?"

"I know it does. He's terrified of turning into him regardless of how many times I told him that will never happen." Mary hoped she sounded more confident than she felt.

She was caught by surprise when she felt a warm hand cover hers.

Elli leaned forward, giving her friend a sad smile. "Sometimes you can want to heal someone so badly…" She could still see Trent sitting at his desk, his hair wild and his eyes bloodshot as he looked over Cliff's charts again and again. "People have to be willing to want to heal before they're receptive to any help… And even then, it's up to them whether they make that next step or not. There's only so much we can do."

Mary cursed her poor poker face as her lips drew downward and a couple of tears tumbled from her eyes.

"How can I tell him that he means the world to me after the way I treated him?" Her voice cracked as she took her hand back, wiping her eyes. "We were talking about all of this while my parents came home. Gray wanted to go downstairs with me, but…" She stifled a sob as she shook her head, her face buried in the napkin. "I was too afraid to face my parents with him. I didn't want to get in trouble for having him in my room, especially when they weren't home. I opened the back window and told him to leave."

Elli's jaw dropped as she took in the information. Mary's sniffles broke into an honest cry as she reached for more napkins, depositing her glasses on the table.

"I'm such a monster! You know how his knee is, especially in this weather… and his coat is still hiding under my bed. He's likely hurt his leg and is going out in the cold and it's all my fault! And the look in his eyes… How could he ever love me again? How can I ever face him again?"

She didn't realize that Elli was resting a hand on her arm until she she felt her grip. "Mare."

Mary kept her eyes closed, her head hung low. Her words gained momentum. "You're allowed to be disgusted with me. I was cruel. I had my plan for how the whole conversation was going to happen and didn't take account for his feelings. I pushed him into saying he loved me. I might as well have pushed him out the window, too!"

"Mare, please-"

"I was a horrible girlfriend and I'd be foolish to think that he'd ever want to accept an apology from me, let alone-"

"Get a hold of yourself, Mare!" Elli's voice rose in a scolding tone that was similar to the one she used for Stu.

Her friend broke her trance and looked up at her wordlessly, her mouth ajar.

"Gray loves you. He told you that himself. For what it's worth, he shared with me me that he's loved you for a long time and has wanted to tell you."

Mary blinked, a moment of clarity lingering in front of her.

I… guess I had been afraid he'd said that because of my mother, but…

"Don't put words in my mouth!"

Gray's words had been gruff, wounded.

"Those feelings aren't going to go away because of a misunderstanding."

"How do you know that?" Mary spat.

The silence in the room was deafening. Mocha brown eyes met russet ones as they wore matching frowns.

"Maybe I'm not the most experienced at love, but I've seen your relationship grow since I moved here. You introduced me to him, and I knew right away that he was special to you. And you might not have seen it, but he blushed when you said his name." Elli calmly reached her hand out to her friend. "It might take some time for the dust to settle and for him to understand what you meant by needing some time to get your own life together and for him to let other friends have permanent places in his life, but… you'll both come out of this stronger."

Mary wordlessly squeezed her hand.

Elli continued. "And I know it's not going to be easy for you to confront your parents, but, like you said, it needs to be done. You're an adult and deserve to be treated like one."

Mary's stomach went sour as she felt the bile rising up in her throat. "I'm so scared, Elli. I know I have no right to complain when you haven't had yours around-"

"This isn't about me," Elli interrupted. "We're talking about you right now."

"Today is about both of us, remember?"

"It is! I'm here with you. And I always will be." Elli pulled her into a hug.

Mary sniffled, her laugh congested. "I still remember the day we moved into town. We nearly knocked heads when we saw some spring phlox blooming along the path to the supermarket. You were watching what you thought was a hummingbird."

Elli blanched at the memory before squeezing her friend tighter. "Until it started buzzing! I'll never forget the first thing I ever heard you say – 'What a lovely moth!' Humming bird moth – what a cruel trick!"

"Well, it was a lovely moth," Mary insisted sincerely, feeling her lips upturn.

Elli shook her head and laughed. "Those words don't belong in the same sentence together. And to think they were spoken by someone who would turn out to be my best friend…"

Mary leaned into her as the chuckles died down.

"You are a good person, Mary. Gray knows that, too. It's not as if none of us have ever made mistakes before."

"I want to prove to him that I'm capable of change. That I can become a good partner. That I can stand up to my parents." Mary's voice was muffled against Elli's cardigan. "You're the most independent person I know. If only I had an ounce of your bravery…"

Elli's laugh escaped her like a bark. "Bravery? I only did what I had to in order for us all to get by. When Mom and Dad passed, I was completely clueless how everything was going to work out."

"And you got it to work, didn't you? Despite everything, you're able to live freely on your own."

Elli's smile faltered. "I'd hardly call my life free, Mary."

"At least you're not living under your parents' thumb!" The words escaped Mary and she pulled away, covering her mouth with her hand.

Her friend's warm, brown eyes were gentle. "Then what is your plan to make that change?"

Mary sighed, resting her elbows on her knees and cradling her chin in her hands. "To have a plan."

Elli watched her shoulders sink and squared her own in response. "Well, then, let's make one."

Carter watched silently as Trent's hand flew across the paper, his sloppy scrawl barely legible.

"So I'll likely have to increase the dosage, then. I'll ask him more about it when we run his next test."

Carter sighed. "Cliff's not going to be thrilled about it, but I've mentioned to him before that these kinds of things don't just go away without proper work and treatment. Talk therapy and grief counseling have been helpful, but they haven't made all of his problems magically disappear, and it seems that his depression and anxiety go back rather far."

The doctor's voice was steady, but a trained ear could hear the strain in it. "He's mentioned to Elli that he'd like to avoid any unnecessary medication. He's afraid of the additional cost, but he's also not fond of pills in general. He was pretty non-compliant when he was first admitted. I don't want to prescribe him medicine only for it to gather dust on a shelf somewhere." He smartly flipped through the chart, scribbling as he spoke. "I have reason to believe he was recently exposed to a trigger, and the last thing I want is for him to stop taking the medicine, regress, and then be admitted again."

"I can give him friendly reminders," Carter volunteered. "I'm sure he'll still see me outside of treatment. We'll have to spend some time together doing our usual hobbies as well – he sometimes shares folk stories from his hometown that I think I could incorporate into my sermons. He definitely gets a kick out of my childhood tales as well..."

He watched as Trent bit his lip, the nib of his pen digging into the paper. "He didn't care much for stories about my childhood."

Carter listened to his friend's retelling of the event with a frown. "Trent… that wasn't your fault. If you read the therapy notes I brought you, you would know that his mother's expectations on him pushed him to a breaking point in the past."

Trent flushed deeply as he scrambled through the loose papers on his desk. "H-How did I miss-?" Cursing under his breath, he organized the sheets in disheveled piles.

"Are you still having trouble sleeping?"

He was met with a wry laugh. "I honestly can't remember the last time I got a good night's sleep." That didn't keep him from leafing through the papers, quickly scanning over each one. "You know how busy work keeps me, and even during the lulls, I still have… lots on my mind."

"Such as?"

Trent looked away. "Are you asking me as a friend, or as a counselor?"

Carter didn't miss a beat. "Whichever would be more helpful to you."

"You're always doing too much for me."

"I don't see it that way at all. I want to help you. And if listening helps, then I'm all ears." Carter calmly placed his hand on the edge of Trent's desk.

The doctor tried to ignore the thumping in his ears as he pushed his papers to the side, his pen clattering to the floor. Trent made no motion to retrieve it. He gripped the edge of his desk, averting his eyes from Carter's. "I-I want us to be equals…" he mumbled.

"As do I. But I also come to you for treatments, so please, never feel that my offer is off of the table."

"Thanks." Trent's eyes met Carter's warm ones and he quickly moved them away, further deafened by the sound of his own heartbeat.

"If you don't mind my saying so, I think a change of environment might help you feel better. Clear your mind."

Trent looked around the stark white room with a wry grin, lacing his fingers behind his head. "What, this office isn't cozy enough for you?" He spun on his swivel chair, showing off the room in an exaggerated flourish, a chuckle rising from his lips.

Carter smirked. "If you like white, I suppose. A little bit of color would liven the place a bit."

Trent halted his chair and placed his hands on the desk to steady himself. His fingers bumped against Carter's and he felt that his face probably had enough color for the whole hospital.

Calm and collected as ever, Carter gave him a keen look. "It might be a little chilly for a walk, but my apartment would be a much cozier place to spend some time. I have a pot of some leftover stew that can be put on for dinner. I think a quiet night in might help-"

Trent had already stood up and was reaching for his coat.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading, and I appreciate everyone's patience with this chapter! All of these conversations are written to be taking place at roughly the same time.

Cliff's tea recipe that Claire makes and shares with Gray is a callback to HM64, as Cliff gives the player a recipe for spiced tea that his father taught him.

I haven't written any moments really featuring Mary and Elli alone and I wanted to make sure that I gave their friendship the right vibe I was going for. As for the hummingbird moth, they're really cool creatures! A special thank you to krose13 for helping me identify a childhood mystery of mine! I saw a hummingbird moth when I was very young and the image and sound of it stuck with me for years and I had no idea what it was. Mary, ever the bug enthusiast, would surely think they were lovely. 3

This chapter does have a lot of heavier content, including lots of overdue conversations and further problems beneath the surface, but I did want to have a lighter feeling toward the end. I hope you enjoyed reading, and I appreciate you taking the time to look at my story! I hope y'all have a great day, and I'm sending y'all happiness and good vibes as always! 3