"Hiro-san…?" Nowaki asked softly on the morning after their long night at the hospital. The handicapped elevator of their apartment building rattled and began to move. Hiroki stared down at the floor in front of his feet, his face expressionless, but his eyes showing the anxiety he hid beneath his skin. He was broken out of his trance as Nowaki reached out to take his hand. Hiroki finally looked down at his fiancé, who gazed back up at him from his wheelchair.

"I'm afraid. I don't want to do this," Hiroki said after a long pause. He squeezed Nowaki's hand. Nowaki squeezed back reassuringly.

"We…I…" he trailed off. Hiroki glanced grimly down at Nowaki as he looked down into his lap.

For once, Nowaki had nothing soothing to say.

The elevator doors creaked open, and Hiroki silently stepped behind Nowaki and pushed his wheelchair out of the elevator. Luckily, the terrace to their apartment had been shoveled and was free of snow. They rolled down the balcony, the dread growing in their hearts as they neared their apartment door. When they got there, the door was swinging slightly in the breeze, its wooden surface jagged and torn open.

Nowaki cursed under his breath, and both men prepared themselves for the worst as Nowaki leaned forward to push the door open. Hiroki wheeled him inside.

The house was a disaster. Papers and books lied scattered all over the floor. The entryway was littered with chunks of plaster from the ceiling and walls. Hiroki felt his eyes sting as he spotted the black mass upon the floor that was once Nowaki's birthday overcoat. Nearby, the remains of his trademark scarf lied tattered and ripped, pieces of it scattered all over the place. Nowaki leaned his elbow on the armrest of his wheel chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as Hiroki pushed him further into the house.

In the kitchen, there was a slightly bitter smell. The refrigerator had been chopped open, and one stainless steel door lied on the floor several feet away from the main machine. The rotten smell was coming from the eggs that had splattered all over the floor. Broken dishes and bent-out-of-shape pots were all over the linoleum tiles, and Nowaki muttered a quiet 'be careful' as Hiroki cautiously made his way through the broken glass to the living room.

The television was… almost nonexistent. Glass was all over the carpet, and wires and pieces of the television were scattered on the floor. The couch had been chopped until it was an unrecognizable pile of springs and cotton. The armchair had faced the same fate. The coffee table: shattered. Hiroki clenched his jaw and continued the grim tour of their destroyed home. They passed by the bathroom, where their beautiful two-person tub had crumbled into nothing upon the shattered tile floor. Pieces of porcelain had been thrown around so much that it came out into the hall.

Hiroki paused by the nursery door.

"Hiro-san…?" Nowaki whispered softly as Hiroki stared, transfixed, at the closed door.

"Do you think they found the nursery?" Hiroki asked shakily. "The door's closed… maybe… maybe…!"

"Hiro-san, don't, ple-" Nowaki began loudly as Hiroki excitedly grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open.

Hiroki rushed inside, but let out a strangled cry as he looked around the room.

Destroyed. Absolutely destroyed. Everything.

The entire room reeked of urine, and Hiroki braced himself against the doorframe as he looked down at the shredded, pulled up carpet, where obvious piss stains covered its once snow white surface. The baby blanket that had been laid out on the floor to await the baby that would play upon it was torn into millions of little pieces. Shreds of the panda-print blanket hung off of splinters in the wall where axes had bit into the green surface.

The children's books, some of which from Hiroki's childhood, had all been viciously chopped and littered the entire floor. The rocking chair in the corner had been overturned and hacked and slashed into a mangled heap of wood and cotton. Where the diaper changing station had once been, there was a mound of melted plastic, and scorch marks on the wall around it.

"Wh-Where's the…?" Hiroki trailed off in a choked voice. He cautiously stepped into the room, stepping over the ruins of his birthday present. He went to the shattered window and brushed the tattered curtains aside.

There, two stories below, lied the splintered remains of the crib, half covered in snow. The stars-and-moons mobile lied broken and tangled among the broken wood. Hiroki let out an immense sob and buried his face in his hands. He leaned against the wall, but cried out in pain as a piece of wood jutting out from the wall pricked him. He rubbed his arm, and as he did so, something caught his eye.

A small flash of orange was sticking out of the remains of the rocking chair. Curious, Hiroki went to it. He stooped down and brushed the cotton and wood aside, revealing the stuffed cat he and Nowaki had bought together. Hiroki wept as he straightened with the still-intact toy cradled in his arms.

"They… they…" Nowaki hissed. Hiroki turned to his fiancé, who was gripping the armrests of his wheelchair with white knuckles. His teeth were gritted and his cobalt eyes, wild with fury, stared hard at the floor. Hiroki maneuvered through the mess, tearfully combing the splinters of wood out of the stuffed cat's fur.

"Nowaki, look," Hiroki said gently, offering Nowaki the stuffed animal. Nowaki made some sort of croaking sound in the back of his throat and smacked the stuffed animal away from him, sending it to the floor.

"I'll kill them!" he roared. He lashed out against the wall, putting a hole in the already destroyed surface. He panted, and let his bloody knuckles fall uselessly to his side. He slumped over the side of his wheelchair. Hiroki sniffled as he picked the stuffed cat up off of the floor. He brushed some of the debris on the floor aside with his foot and knelt before Nowaki's wheelchair.

"Nowaki," Hiroki whispered. He took Nowaki's undamaged hand and kissed his knuckles over and over. Nowaki lowered his head and sobbed softly, tears plopping into Hiroki's hair. Several tears rolled down Hiroki's face, but they were only for his agonized fiancé. "Nowaki, shh. It's okay."

Hiroki felt strange. For once, he was the one comforting Nowaki. He was the calmer, more collected one. He was upset, of course, for the loss of his precious nursery, but part of him felt strengthened by the whole situation. He clutched the stuffed cat to his chest with his free arm, and a burst of determination swelled in his chest.

Yes. He was strong. It was time to stop the tears.

"God… why? Wh-Why would they d-do this? It's just an innocent b-baby," Nowaki moaned between cries. His body jerked and more tears spilled down his face. Hiroki looked up from his knuckles.

"Nowaki, look," Hiroki said softly. He took Nowaki's hand and brought it down to his baby bump. Nowaki looked up, blinking.

"Wha-" he began. He was cut off as the baby nudged his fingers soothingly. Hiroki smiled up at his weakened fiancé with gentle eyes.

"The baby is safe. I'm safe. You're wounded and handicapped for the time being, but you're safe and on the road to recovery. We have lost our home, but we're all still here, this little family of ours. We can replace everything in this room, down to the very last carving on the crib. We can rebuild the nursery together, Nowaki," Hiroki said, his voice soft and airy. He lifted the stuffed cat, showing it to Nowaki. "…and we'll start with this."

Nowaki's lips parted as he gazed down at his little fiancé, who knelt before him on a dirty floor with a promising glow floating about his body.

"…I saw the angel again," he breathed. Hiroki smiled and shook his head, reaching up to cup Nowaki's face in his hands and brush his tears away with gentle thumbs.

"No, that was all me."