Tears rolled down his face as he looked blankly ahead, hardly acknowledging his partner Shadow Milk as they approached. Everything felt distant—muted. The lights above him buzzed faintly, cold and impersonal. His hands trembled at his sides, his body heavy with failure.

"I- I lost a k-kid today... I let their parents down.." He sobbed, voice cracking under the weight of grief. His shoulders were tense, curled inward, as if trying to disappear. He could still see the monitor flatline in his head. The child’s body rejecting the organ. Nothing worked. Nothing had been enough.

He barely noticed Shadow Milk until a familiar warmth wrapped around him. His hand gripped the blue sweater being wrapped around him by the other. It was soft, worn, and smelled faintly like home. “I f-feel like I could’ve done m-more… maybe I should’ve—”

The words faltered..

He was softly pulled into a gentle kiss.

Warm lips met his trembling ones, not to silence him, but to ground him. A kiss that said, I’m here. One that anchored him to the moment, to someone who still saw him— even when he couldn’t forgive himself.