"You put your arms around me and I'm home."

..

How many days had it been?

He did not know.

All he knew was that the marks on the white walls around him kept increasing. Maybe it had been ten years. He guessed he had grown out of that eleven-year-old body, since he heard his voice changing every time he screamed. He did not know anymore. He had forgotten why he was there. Maybe he was just there.

It was not a normal hospital. It was for people like him. The people who were monsters.

He had been in there for so long he did not know what season it was anymore. The thin clothes they had given him were not warm enough. His breath was foggy. He had noticed it too much to even care. His shoulders were shaking.

What else had they not done to him in there?

Electric shock. Check. Water torture. Check. Straight up beating him up. Check.

He heard the door clicking open. He saw his usual nurse walking in. The woman took him by the arms and dragged him outside, not waiting for his consent.

Why would they need his consent anyway?

He saw her opening the heavy door.

It was cold.

She pushed him outside. The door shut.

He saw the red hair like a flame dancing in the snow.

He felt the flame coming nearer and nearer.

His clothes were too thin to even keep in any heat. His shoulders trembled slightly. His feet were completely bare. He could not even walk. He wanted to cry, but could not. There were no more tears. They had all frozen in that ten-year-long winter.

The flame was still approaching. Soon, it was right in front of him, it towered over him, making him look up.

He saw the familiar face, still those narrow, light blue eyes, still those thin lips, still those freckles, still those bony features.

He did not want to make a move, but the redhead did.

He felt himself enveloped in warmth. He felt the two long and big arms wrapping around his body. He felt heat radiating from that big body, and he buried his head in the other's chest, wanting to feel that warmth more and more. The heat was melting him.

The heat was melting the tears that had been frozen inside him.

But he did not want to let go. His shaking arms reached out and mimicked the redhead's action. The unfamiliar warm liquid flowed down his cheeks. The screams escaped his dry throat.

He felt the redhead's arms tighten around him.

"It's–" He started speaking, almost not recognizing his own voice "It's scary in there, Jack." His lips were shivering.

..

It had been ten years.

He knew.

The marks on his calendars kept increasing as the day approached. It had been ten years. He had grown out of that twelve-year-old body, he knew he was taller and stronger, and his voice was not the high voice that sung C Sharp anymore. He knew. He had never forgotten that black-haired boy. How could he?

He knew it was not a normal hospital the boy was taken to. It was an asylum. A place for people who were considered monsters.

He stood outside of the building. It was winter. The snow was falling around him. He pulled the collar of his coat up to shield himself from the cold. His breath was foggy. It was the first time he had noticed it. He was cold, but not to the point where his body shook.

What had they done to that boy in there?

Electric shock? Water torture? Straight up beating him up?

He waited and waited.

The heavy door opened.

Someone was pushed outside.

The door shut.

He saw black and white. Black hair like ashes from a fire, and white, pale skin like the falling snow.

He approached the ashes on the snow.

His clothes were thick and heavy, shielding him from the cold. His shoulders were much wider than before. His feet were covered by large winter boots. He kept walking. He could cry, but he chose not to. His fire had made all the tears evaporate.

He kept approaching the other. Soon, he was in front of him. He looked down at the other.

He did not look familiar at all. His eyes were much duller, and the circles kept getting darker, his lips were chapped, his skin was cut and bruised, his face was even thinner than before.

His body made a move.

He felt himself enveloping a trembling body. His two long and big arms wrapped around the frail frame. Heat radiated from his big body, and the other's head was buried in his chest. He felt the heat from his body melting the other.

He heard sobs and knew his coat would be soaked.

But he chose not to let go. He felt the shaking arms reach out to wrap around his body, though not fully. The front of his coat was soon soaked in tears. He heard screams coming from a dry throat.

He tightened his arms around the other.

He heard Roger trying to tell him about the horror in that asylum with the vocabularies of an eleven-year-old. He could feel the shivering of the dry lips.

He wanted to ease that pain. He separated himself from the other, his hand caressed the bruised skin. His eyes scrutinized the other.

"Can you walk?"

Roger shook his head.

Jack let him go, scooped him up and walked to the black car parking not far from there. He intentionally tightened his arm, so that the other could feel as much of the warmth as possible.

"Come, let's go home."

"But I'm already home."

"Here?"

"No."

"Then where?"

"In your arms. That's where my home is."