Lightning flashed dully through the thick glass window. Sheets of rain refracted it, and then the thunder cracked.

Sorrel lay frozen beneath his rough blanket.

“Mother and father are just like that,” Kana continued. “It’ll be okay. Give them some time til the harvest is over. They’re always really strict this season.”

His cousin sounded convincing, but Sorrel doubted it. He couldn’t imagine those two would get any friendlier as time went by. He stayed quiet, hoping Kana would stop talking.

His cousin scooted closer in their shared bed. It was small, but Sorrel was small, so there was just enough room for both of them, even though Kana’s legs were too long and stuck over the end a little.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out and help, okay? I know today didn’t work, but we’re sure to find something you’re good at. Don’t give up.”

Sorrel jolted as thunder and lighting broke the sky outside apart again. Kana sighed and put an arm around Sorrel’s body protectively.

“It’ll be okay,” she said again.

Almost from a distance, Sorrel felt his body begin to relax, then he jerked back into tension. He had felt that deep comfort he had never known he could miss so badly. He’d almost let himself remember.

Kana gently, almost imperceptibly rocked him.

“Sorrel,” she said, “if you cry, I would never tell anyone. I promise.”

Nothing.

“You’re just a kid. You don’t have to be be strong. I don’t care what your- ...what anyone says.”

Nothing.

“I’m just... I’m glad you’re alive, little cousin.”

Was he? Was he alive?

“Survivor’s guilt,” Sorrel said, almost to himself.

Suatre looked up from his miserable hunch. “Huh?”

“Your people are dead, or doomed, or never existed at all. Whatever. But you escaped their fate.”

Suatre blinked his bloodshot eyes at him. A drop of water ran out of his wet hair and down his cheek.

“It doesn’t mean anything. You’re here, they’re not. There’s no deeper meaning.” Sorrel shook his head. “And there’s nothing you can do about it. All you can do is live. You’ll figure out how.”

Suatre closed his eyes again. His shivered a little.

“You’re going to get sick. Go take a shower,” Sorrel said. He stood up and went to his cabinet, pulled out another towel and came back to hand it to Suatre.

“Thanks, man.” Suatre pulled himself out of his chair and made his way to the bathroom. He shut the door and Sorrel fell back against the armrest of his couch and sighed.

This guy was unstable. Maybe trouble. Maybe dangerous. Well, Sorrel thought, probably not dangerous. I could absolutely kick his ass, which I doubt I would have to. But still. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with him, or how to help him, or WHY I want to help him. And...what if he wants to die?

Sorrel sat back up, stared at the air ahead of him. He saw Suatre on the bridge. He saw Jupiter at the edge of the canyon. He saw his parents holding hands before all went black.

Eventually Suatre emerged from the bathroom, his hair ridiculously fluffy from Sorrel’s fancy hair dry station. He’d left his shirt off but had his skinny jeans clinging to his boney hips. He found Sorrel spaced out, gazing out his large window as the rain still fell.

“Hey,” Suatre said, and Sorrel startled.

He looked up and Suatre caught his eyes.

“Um, you didn’t change out of your wet clothes? You must be freezing,” he said. “Shower’s free.”

Sorrel waved his hand vaguely. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts. Instead he just pulled his shirt off and absently toweled his hair and shoulders.

“I feel better,” Suatre said, sitting down next to Sorrel on the couch. “I’m like...I’m really sorry I freaked out at you. I’m always doing this. I should go.”

“Stop,” Sorrel said. “Just...wait.”

Suatre waited. Sorrel looked at him, trying to feel what Suatre wanted. What he himself wanted.

His talent was useful. It only worked when he desired the same thing as the person he was reading. He didn’t use it to take advantage of anyone. More than anything, he used it to understand himself.

Between himself and Suatre, he felt one strong thing. He almost laughed. He was an idiot.

“Come here,” he said. He opened his arms.

Suatre looked confused, but he leaned closer. He made no other move, so Sorrel took his shoulders in his hands, pulled him in, and held him against his chest.

“You need this right now,” Sorrel said. His mind was static. All he felt was Suatre’s warm skin over bone, Suatre’s warm breath against his shoulder, Suatre’s heart beating as hard as his own.

“Seems like you do too,” Suatre mumbled, his own arms snaking around Sorrel’s back. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

They held each other and breathed. Sorrel leaned his face into Suatre’s clean, unruly hair.

“This is weird, right?” Suatre said, voice still muffled. He was leaning against Sorrel like a big dog.

“How so?” Sorrel said into Suatre’s hair.

“Like...we barely know each other.”

“And?”

“And..I don’t know.”

“You say that a lot.”

Suatre laughed a little. He hugged Sorrel tighter.

“I really feel like I’m going crazy,” he said quietly, seriously. “I’m just...spinning. I’m sad, I’m happy, I’m angry.”

Sorrel nodded and stroked Suatre’s hair.

“Suatre, what were you doing on the bridge today?” Sorrel kept his voice as neutral as he could.

“Oh...the bridge? Looking for you. I got distracted. I was thinking...how beautiful this city is...the river...all the colorful houseboat things floating...even in the rain, it’s beautiful.” Suatre pulled back a little. “Oh...I guess that I must have seemed, um...” He blinked his icy eyes. “I was so out of it.”

“You were shocked. It’s understandable.” The relief Sorrel felt overwhelmed him.

“Yeah, I was. Still am. I really do feel better...But...I’m sorry I took all that out on you. Thanks for listening, and taking care of me, again...”

Sorrel said nothing. He and Suatre parted fully. Suatre’s cheeks were red. He knew Suatre felt like he should go, maybe even wanted to go, to hide from his embarrassment. He knew that would make sense, he should break the silence and offer Suatre an out.

But he didn’t want to.

So he asked, “What do you want for dinner?”