it was the middle of the night when you got the call from edel.

it had been in the cards for a while. sookie was getting old and johnny was refusing to accept it. sookie was his soul animal — and you knew it. the call comes late, edel saying softly down the phone that sookie couldn’t walk, that she was whining, that it was time.

but johnny was refusing to take her to the vets. denying that it was the end.

so you had driven over there, and there johnny was. curled on the floor with sookie. she was on her side, breathing heavily, whining softly as johnny murmured gentle words to her. you approach slowly.

“oh, johnny…” you say softly.

he turns to face you. he squeezes his eyes shut and shakes his head. “no. no— it’s not time. no.” you can see the tears in his eyes that he’s blinking back, the pure sorrow in his face as he strokes his companion.

you walk over and drop beside him, a hand on his back. you’ve never seen him like this. he’s sniffling, breathing heavily. he’s absolutely distraught, and he’s dragging out the inevitable. it’s weird, for you, not that johnny isn’t attuned to his emotions — his emotional maturity is one of your favourite things about him.

but seeing him like this is hard. so hard.

you rub his back, voice gentle. “she’s not well, johnny. she hasn’t been well in a few weeks.”

he sniffles. shakes his head.

you sit there for a long time in silence. you stroke sookie, comfort johnny. johnny has sookie in his lap, murmuring soft words and giving her gentle touches. you watch him. can see the grief in his eyes and sookie nuzzles his hand and whines.

you don’t pressure him. you sit in silence.

“okay.” johnny whispers.

i look at him. “okay?”

“okay… it’s—“ he swallows, voice shaking. “it’s time.”

and your heart breaks a little more.