You come back home from work and you're greeted with silence, which is.. unusual, to say the least. Scaramouche wasn't even in sight. You hang your coat and bag up, going into the bedroom in hopes of finding him there.

And you do. He was lying on the bed, hugging your pillow and the plushie you sometimes slept with.

His back was facing you, so he hasn't noticed you standing in the doorway of the bedroom. He sniffles, "They're gonna come home soon, right..?" he asks the plushie, as if it would talk back to him. He was starting to worry you wouldn't come home because it's already 12 A.M., way past the time you usually come home. And you didn't text him about coming home late, either..