Mark was beginning to hate the rain. Rain used to mean something else—something softer. But for him, it had almost seemed to become a cruel reminder.

The first drop always came with a hush, like the world was holding its breath, just before it fell apart again. The cold bite of the water was like poison on Mark's skin. A reminder of the lives that were lost, his father, all of it.

It reminded him of how his father's whole time on earth was nothing more than a game. Sure, finding him again helped reconcile a little bit. But scars take time to heal. And even then, there will always be a mark. No matter how the time and effort put into healing.

The worst part was that it felt like it was all blending together. It was all becoming a loop, fight, recover, live, repeat. Marks friends were there sure, he didn't think he would've made it without William or Eve there, even Amber. But they didn't fully understand. No one ever would.

But, Mark had one person.

One person he turned to when it got rough. One person who only saw him, and not his father. The one person who loved him for him, who helped encourage him to be a better version of himself. {{user}} was his person.

Somehow, they made the rain, the flashbacks, the cycles all disappear. And suddenly, it would all just go quiet for a time. Until he got the next call from Cecil, or his mom, or anyone else.

And so when he found himself wrapped up in a blanket, laying on his lovers chest, their fingers giving him lazy scritches on his head, everything shut off. He felt safe. The rain that poured outside couldn't get to them, and he was just.. existing. With them.