Hospital grilled cheese is the shit."

Kaelen raised an eyebrow at Rain. "What?"

Rain was already halfway through her lunch, and was visibly elated at the white bread, American cheese, and lukewarm fries. "You wouldn't get it," she said, grinning. "The hospital cafeteria is the fun part of hospice care. Well, that and gossipy nurses."

"Jude isn't in hospice. None of them are."

"Hospice, coma. Potato, tomato." Rain popped a fry into her mouth. "The only difference is certainty."

Kaelen sighed. The blasé nature with which Rain regarded serious topics was part of her charm for him, what with him being the resident emo kid. But there was a disconnect for him - maybe it was the accident, but the comments were beginning to tax him.

They were beginning to make him...

...cold.

He shuddered uncomfortably, which confused Rain. "You good?" she asked earnestly.

Kaelen stared for a moment, then shook his head.

Rain shifted gears and stopped eating her lunch. She wiped her hands and reached for Kaelen's across the table. "You can tell me. You know I won't tell."

Kaelen nodded at her. "I have to tell you something. Something I remember from the accident. I tried to tell my parents, but...they didn't believe me." His voice didn't crack, but it was shaky. "When I got hit the second time, I woke up. And I was...somewhere else."

"Like...heaven?" Rain asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Closer to hell. Don't they say that hell gets colder the further down you go?"

"Dante said that." Rain let go of his hand to lean back in the chair, but kept her gaze on Kaelen's face.

Kaelen nodded, and continued. "I saw the car...but it was covered in snow. Snow everywhere. Up to my shins. No one was in the car, but there was blood. And they weren't there. So I started running, to look for help."

"And that's when you found the convenience store?"

"No." Kaelen spoke defiantly, the words tumbling from his mouth. "That's just it. I ran for hours. I walked for hours. It might have even been days...I...I don't think it was time dilation. It wasn't seconds feeling like hours. I counted. I was looking at my watch the whole time. I was lucid, but I wasn't...here. Even when I got to the convenience store...I swear to God, Rain, it was empty. No one had been there in years. It looked like it was abandoned for decades. Like some post-apocalyptic shit. I..."

Kaelen couldn't bring himself to say the part that he was trying to forget. He wanted to remember everything else, but he doesn't want to remember what he saw in the convenience store.

The face that wasn't his face.

Rain paused, then took a deep breath. On her exhale, she said the words Kaelen didn't realize how badly he needed to hear: "I believe you."

Kaelen looked up, a bit startled even with the ideal reaction. "You do?"

Rain nodded, spinning her teardrop necklace between her fingers. "I mean, there are two options. Either you had a supernatural experience, or you didn't. But, you had an insane experience all the same. It doesn't matter to me whether it was in your head or not. You experienced something horrifying, and that much is real. Logistics be damned."

Kaelen tilted his head. That was shockingly comforting. "Thank you..." he said, softer than he expected.

"Of course." Rain smiled warmly at him. It wasn't condescending, it was validating, even if she didn't fully believe him. Her smile faded in sympathy. "I'm sorry it was painful though."

Kaelen shook his head. "I'd do it again."

"Doesn't mean it didn't suck." She looked away, silence following her gaze.

They ended up needing a to-go box. Their food got cold.

Dinner was always quiet now.

Armand and Venera sat across each other, like always. Without Jude, Kaelen had no one to sit across from, leaving the table feeling unbalanced.

"How was the hospital?" Venera asked.

Kaelen shrugged. "Kind of what I expected. Edith was there, though, so Milo told us to leave."

Armand grimaced at that, and Venera put a hand on her heart. "Poor Rain..." she said softly. "I know she wanted to see Briar."

Kaelen nodded, and continued eating his roast vegetables. He couldn't taste much of anything since the accident. He had the sensation of taste, but none of the joy.

"When are you going to see them next?" Venera asked.

"Not sure. I...I do think I want to go back to school next semester."

"Are you sure?" Armand asked. "You would be within your rights to take a break."

Kaelen firmly shook his head. "No. I want to get back to my life."

"Taking a year off is not the same as giving up your life." Armand's voice was like gravel, and his face was stony.

Kaelen looked up at his so-called father. "Would you want Jude to take break if he were in my position, or would you want him to continue living?" His tone was flat - not overtly challenging Armand, but pointedly asking all the same.

"Kaelen," Venera scolded.

"Obviously I would want him to take a break," Armand said, matching Kaelen's tone. "It wouldn't even be a question. Do you doubt me?"

"No," Kaelen lied. "Do you doubt me?"

"No."

Kaelen wanted to tell Armand that he knew he was lying. He always narrowed his eyes when he lied. Kaelen opted to eating his feelings instead of pointing it out, swallowing more flavorless food.

"I know tensions are high, Kaelen. I feel it. We all feel it." Venera spoke with both comfort and confidence. "But we have to endure this together. As a family. In the end, family is all we have."

Kaelen nodded, wondering privately if that was true. Sure, it might extend to from Wynne to Wynne's mother, or Rain to Rain's grandparents, but what about Briar and Lysander toward Edith and Milo? A mother who treated her blonde haired, blue eyed children like commodities? Like cattle? It might extend from Jude to both their parents, but did it extend from Kaelen to Armand? Did it extend from Armand to Kaelen?

The boy sighed, then scooted back in his chair. "Thanks for dinner," Kaelen said.

"Are you not hungry?" Venera asked him, perplexed. "You said you hadn't eaten anything."

"Yeah, I'm not very hungry, sorry. I'll finish it tomorrow." Kaelen walked himself away from the table to the pristine kitchen. He wrapped the plate in plastic, put it in the fridge, and started to clean up. Washing the dishes was the one thing he could do to alleviate the burden on both parents, no matter whether they shared blood. He heard silence in the other room, save for the clinking of forks and knives as they finished their meals.

Kaelen's eyelids felt heavy. Sleep was calling.

He put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, washed his hands, and walked himself up to bed.

Kaelen opened his eyes, once again, to the snowflakes on his lashes.