Ray didn’t protest. He stared out the window at the empty patch of grass—quiet, forlorn. I didn’t want this moment to be the first impression they had of me or my family. Plans had been in motion for this first meeting, sadly, not everything one hoped to work out would, and I had a lot of hope. Whenever it came to Ray, hope was a walk in the park—second nature to myself. It wasn’t before. No. Nothing was like before.

While I reached the stairs—I familiarized myself with the house—I took glimpses here and there. I stared plenty at the pale linen curtains covered in a bit of dust, gathered throughout time, and bristled through the aroma of a good roast of coffee weakening. My lips quirked over the soft pillowy cushions somehow reminded me of Ray—it leveled me to sigh. A few serigraphies, wooden figurines—no doubt native—an open cabinet full, bursting of different mugs, and a reporter giving a news report. Little fuzzes of black chirped, climbed or rather bounced and tumbled up my slack-covered legs, and gathered around Ray. He paid them no heed and didn’t even twitch when one nudged his chin and another his shoulder. They pointed their beady little eyes at me and I darted my eyes across the room only to peer down at someone tugging my suit.

Sid beamed at the fuzzy things and poked them. He chuckled as they chirped and wobbled under his sticky finger. Of course, he perked up and I dragged a sigh of relief. His cheeks rosied up, energized, more refreshed than he did moments ago—this kid never stayed down—he was brighter than any bundle of joy. We took careful footsteps over the start of stairs. The wood protested and wailed under our combined weight—holding onto someone, while I, myself was bigger than most people combined, didn’t settle well with the stairs. I don’t know how many times I hitched since traveling from Venice and thanked for the millionth time—the floor didn’t break under us. We had enough of things breaking all around us. I’m sure Ray had enough of things breaking all around him.

“Here we are.”

His Mom gestured to the door, and I froze. Remind me to ask for her name, I always keep forgetting. Ray's smell and emotions overlapped, overwhelmed every one of my senses. A dam poured, drowned, tussled my mind and heart into breakage. I caught myself unaware of inhaling the serene scent and the need to shut my eyes to get a better taste of him. It peaked, going higher with each intake of breath. My throat rumbled under a slight hum and I drew back over Ray, aghast. I widened my stance and my strong arms almost gave away to drop him. My nostrils flared over the scent of damp grass and pine oil-soaked around his room. Without notice, I had taken a whiff of his hair. I doubled back, I couldn’t be here anymore. My throat rasped as caps of ice and his smell branded into my memory, at every heartstring, plucking. I tensed up and my throat throbbed harder, preparing myself to make up any excuse to have an out and walk up to reality. This was not like before. He didn’t remember; he didn’t know me; he didn’t… love me. Not yet, Gio. He didn’t love you, yet again.

Our love was destiny and it never fails.

Don’t give up.

There was still time.

Don’t give in.

“Sorry… I—” I lost my words.

“It’s fine. Weird, but fine.”

I blinked and peeked down at Ray in my arms. He spoke, thank you for your voice. His cheeks were flushed to the nines. He still was the same Ray I remembered. I found myself tugging my lips up until someone scratched their throat.

“Could we please put him in bed? The leg looks worse than I realized and I’m losing my patience young man.”

His mother frowned and held a sharp stare. I nodded, she was right. The silence dwindled even as I placed him on the bed. I compelled myself to back away and leave them to their business and encourage Sid to heal his ankle. However, things never worked out the way we planned, didn't they? Ray grabbed my hand and told me to stay. I raised my brows, his mother mirrored the same flabbergasted action, yet Sid simply settled by his side on his knees and cheek on the duvet—very at ease with everything, even with the tension sharpening. I wished I was a kid right about now. Then again… I contemplated his thin fingers, there were subtle calluses—I had seen the guitar by his closet—strong and kindest of touches. A kid couldn’t begin to understand this kind of deep burn with another person. They bubbled up over the love of a parent, sibling, teacher, or friend. This all together held a different story. I hoped Ray knew he was special, the best of people, the best anyone could be blessed to have in their lives—no matter how insignificant or unworthy they believed themselves to be. He made it all worthwhile. If only he remembered when he’d look at himself in the mirror, not like he needed to measure his reflection over a mirror to know he was amazing, rainbows and all.

“Now, I don’t think I have to be saying this, but how exactly will you fix this?”

Ray’s mother pointed down at his foot, her voice seared through the room, jolting me from my mind. She had me shifting my weight, nerves pricking at my back.

“Sid.”

My little brother’s eye beamed up at me. If his ears and tails were out, they’d be wiggling all over the place. Always eager to help. I ruffled his head and pushed his head into my palm, holding his soft purr.

I kneeled, “are you ready?”

He nodded and said, “yep!”

“Ok. Remember, gentle.”

“Like with Daddy?”

He tugged on the hem of his sweater and nibbled his lips.

“That’s right.”

I took a glimpse of Ray’s mother, just to be sure she didn’t take us for being foolish, leaving a child to do a doctor’s work. She surprised me when she pulled a soft smile at Sid—the kind a mother has for her child. His mother didn’t protest. She was rather amused at the turn of events.Ray didn’t protest. He stared out the window at the empty patch of grass—quiet, forlorn. I didn’t want this moment to be the first impression they had of me or my family. Plans had been in motion for this first meeting, sadly, not everything one hoped to work out would, and I had a lot of hope. Whenever it came to Ray, hope was a walk in the park—second nature to myself. It wasn’t before. No. Nothing was like before.

While I reached the stairs—I familiarized myself with the house—I took glimpses here and there. I stared plenty at the pale linen curtains covered in a bit of dust, gathered throughout time, and bristled through the aroma of a good roast of coffee weakening. My lips quirked over the soft pillowy cushions somehow reminded me of Ray—it leveled me to sigh. A few serigraphies, wooden figurines—no doubt native—an open cabinet full, bursting of different mugs, and a reporter giving a news report. Little fuzzes of black chirped, climbed or rather bounced and tumbled up my slack-covered legs, and gathered around Ray. He paid them no heed and didn’t even twitch when one nudged his chin and another his shoulder. They pointed their beady little eyes at me and I darted my eyes across the room only to peer down at someone tugging my suit.

Sid beamed at the fuzzy things and poked them. He chuckled as they chirped and wobbled under his sticky finger. Of course, he perked up and I dragged a sigh of relief. His cheeks rosied up, energized, more refreshed than he did moments ago—this kid never stayed down—he was brighter than any bundle of joy. We took careful footsteps over the start of stairs. The wood protested and wailed under our combined weight—holding onto someone, while I, myself was bigger than most people combined, didn’t settle well with the stairs. I don’t know how many times I hitched since traveling from Venice and thanked for the millionth time—the floor didn’t break under us. We had enough of things breaking all around us. I’m sure Ray had enough of things breaking all around him.

“Here we are.”

His Mom gestured to the door, and I froze. Remind me to ask for her name, I always keep forgetting. Ray's smell and emotions overlapped, overwhelmed every one of my senses. A dam poured, drowned, tussled my mind and heart into breakage. I caught myself unaware of inhaling the serene scent and the need to shut my eyes to get a better taste of him. It peaked, going higher with each intake of breath. My throat rumbled under a slight hum and I drew back over Ray, aghast. I widened my stance and my strong arms almost gave away to drop him. My nostrils flared over the scent of damp grass and pine oil-soaked around his room. Without notice, I had taken a whiff of his hair. I doubled back, I couldn’t be here anymore. My throat rasped as caps of ice and his smell branded into my memory, at every heartstring, plucking. I tensed up and my throat throbbed harder, preparing myself to make up any excuse to have an out and walk up to reality. This was not like before. He didn’t remember; he didn’t know me; he didn’t… love me. Not yet, Gio. He didn’t love you, yet again.

Our love was destiny and it never fails.

Don’t give up.

There was still time.

Don’t give in.

“Sorry… I—” I lost my words.

“It’s fine. Weird, but fine.”

I blinked and peeked down at Ray in my arms. He spoke, thank you for your voice. His cheeks were flushed to the nines. He still was the same Ray I remembered. I found myself tugging my lips up until someone scratched their throat.

“Could we please put him in bed? The leg looks worse than I realized and I’m losing my patience young man.”

His mother frowned and held a sharp stare. I nodded, she was right. The silence dwindled even as I placed him on the bed. I compelled myself to back away and leave them to their business and encourage Sid to heal his ankle. However, things never worked out the way we planned, didn't they? Ray grabbed my hand and told me to stay. I raised my brows, his mother mirrored the same flabbergasted action, yet Sid simply settled by his side on his knees and cheek on the duvet—very at ease with everything, even with the tension sharpening. I wished I was a kid right about now. Then again… I contemplated his thin fingers, there were subtle calluses—I had seen the guitar by his closet—strong and kindest of touches. A kid couldn’t begin to understand this kind of deep burn with another person. They bubbled up over the love of a parent, sibling, teacher, or friend. This all together held a different story. I hoped Ray knew he was special, the best of people, the best anyone could be blessed to have in their lives—no matter how insignificant or unworthy they believed themselves to be. He made it all worthwhile. If only he remembered when he’d look at himself in the mirror, not like he needed to measure his reflection over a mirror to know he was amazing, rainbows and all.

“Now, I don’t think I have to be saying this, but how exactly will you fix this?”

Ray’s mother pointed down at his foot, her voice seared through the room, jolting me from my mind. She had me shifting my weight, nerves pricking at my back.

“Sid.”

My little brother’s eye beamed up at me. If his ears and tails were out, they’d be wiggling all over the place. Always eager to help. I ruffled his head and pushed his head into my palm, holding his soft purr.

I kneeled, “are you ready?”

He nodded and said, “yep!”

“Ok. Remember, gentle.”

“Like with Daddy?”

He tugged on the hem of his sweater and nibbled his lips.

“That’s right.”

I took a glimpse of Ray’s mother, just to be sure she didn’t take us for being foolish, leaving a child to do a doctor’s work. She surprised me when she pulled a soft smile at Sid—the kind a mother has for her child. His mother didn’t protest. She was rather amused at the turn of events.

“Brother….” Sid mumbled and his little fingers fiddled.

“You can do this!” I boasted for good measure.

Kids need a little push, every now and then. The right dose of confidence, no different from any other kid, add two cat ears and two tails and you get a nice mix of uniqueness on your shoulders.

“Yeah!” He squealed and chuckled softly.

Ray kept an eye out on Sid and his Mom, he pitched his chin as his lips lined straight, battling doubts and facts in his head. It’s hard to believe in things you can’t see, especially when it came from someone you didn’t know. He gave me a once over—a light pink brushed his ears—shifting from grating to quenching anticipation of what a kid, nearly half his age, could do. Whether or not a child did a better job than a doctor digging into the skin with his mighty, sharp scalpel. Maybe for normal people, regular folk—they would think, what can a kid do that a doctor can’t, right? I knew this look, the one every adult or anyone old enough had—obviously, the kid was just playing around—the way they observed Sid’s and my reaction, they came to realize something, there was more to it than this. Under the stagnating suspense, Sid places his hand, gently on top of the ankle. Ray’s brow twitches and tries to bite away his scowl. I stop him from darting his eyes away from his ankle and hold his hand. He didn’t pull back and squeezed my hand.

“Watch,” I whispered.

He clenched his teeth and his eyes began to widen. His mother gasped, covering her mouth, and beaming when Sid’s hand glowed gold. The sound of bone pulling back into itself cracked and snapped, shifting its way into his muscle tissue, the blood-soaked no more over the one which dried and flaked past his converse and skin.

“It’s warm….” Ray said, entranced by the wonder of Sid’s power.

He sighed and mellowed over the pillows, breathing evenly; battling his way from sleep. The cheery bead of tears over the corner of his eyes became evident and I scratched his dust-covered tangles, watching him slowly sink into sleep. Sid’s glowing hand dissipated and I moved aside to catch his fall. His forehead damps and his breathing even—I sighed and carried him, leaving Ray and his Mother to their devices. They needed some time alone and what better excuse for myself than get Sid to bed. I peck the top of his head and Sid sighed, softly pulling a childish smile.

You did good little man.