Chapter Text
Virgil walked out of The Mind Palace, humming softly to himself as he walked out on the still-wet ground, though the rain was starting to slow down faintly. His morning shift was over, and Patton suggested he leave while he could while he waited around for Joan and Talyn.
But Virgil didn’t walk a mere two steps when the noise of police sirens suddenly filled his ears. It sent shivers up his spine, as the sound always did when he heard it, and some memories of nine years ago would fill his head. The police cars drove by him and he counted them.
One, two, three. And an ambulance to go with it. Virgil sighed, but even after they whizzed by him the strange feeling cling to him. Something wasn’t right, and he shuddered again. He trekked on a bit further, but yet another sound stopped him, but this time it was a voice, desperate, urgent, and sad all at the same time.
“Virgil!” it cried. Patton.
Virgil turned around as fast as he could and ran down back to The Mind Palace, only to see Patton staring at him, wide-eyed and leaning on the doorway for support. He’s shaking, and Virgil’s about to ask him if he’s having a heart attack when Patton started talking.
“Car. Now. Hurry,” Patton gasped, running into the parking lot of the café toward his car, a small blue thing that Virgil had never rode in before.
“Patton, what the hell’s the matter?” Virgil grunted, catching up to him and slipping into the passenger seat. Some sort of fear was starting to sink into Virgil and he felt his chest start to rise and fall quicker and quicker as Patton hurriedly turned on the car.
“It’s Roman. He’s hurt.”
Those words slam into Virgil and he made a noise, something in between a gasp and a choking sound. The cars. The ambulance. It clicks into place with a sickening snap inside Virgil’s mind.
“Wha- how-“ Virgil is sputtering as all color drains from his face and his body is rocking. Patton drives the car out of the parking lot and onto the road as fast as he can manage, and Virgil feels like he’s about to puke. He can see it in his head, his vomit splattered all over the window and dashboard, but he gulped the feeling down.
“I don’t know. That’s all his mom said when she called me. We’re gonna meet her at the hospital,” Patton explained as he sped through the streets, and Virgil had to close his eyes so that he didn’t throw-up from all the dizzying colors spinning around him.
Roman. Hurt. He had spent his whole relationship trying to avoid hearing those two words together. Virgil wanted to sob, wanted to cry out, but he’s too drowned with shock and terror to do much of anything.
When he and Patton arrive at the hospital they immediately run out, just as the ambulance pulls up to the white building. Virgil tried to throw himself at the vehicle, trying to see Roman, but Patton holds him back, almost unable to watch himself. There are too many people. Too many people pouring out of the ambulance and the hospital, and soon Vanessa and Logan are surrounding Virgil and watching.
Then Virgil sees him. Just a glimpse of him, sprawled out on a stretcher, and his face, covering in dark, dribbling blood. This time Virgil does cry out, but Patton holds him back again, crying too as they watch Roman go in through the hospital.
“Just... give them some space, kiddo, and l-let them do their job,” Patton said, voice wobbly, but Virgil doesn’t listen. His heart is beating too hard in his ear, his blood is pumping too fast within him and he sprints inside, behind the masses of people in uniforms. He hears the others running behind him, but all he’s focused on is trying to see Roman. The stretcher and the people disappear through a door and doctor comes up to him, clamping two hands on his shoulders.
“Sorry, son. You can’t go past this point,” he explained. “What’s your name?”
What was his name? Something... something starting with a V, or something. But all that Virgil can think about is Roman, Roman, Roman, and he continued to eye the closed doors.
“V-Virgil,” he’s eventually able to say.
“Are you friends with the young man that just went through there?”
“Yes. I’m- I’m his boyfriend.” A damn cruddy one. A damn, bullshitting excuse for a boyfriend.
The doctor nods and he leads Virgil down to a waiting room and Vanessa, Logan, and Patton follow behind him. They all sit together in the empty room smelling too strongly of sanitizer with Virgil seated in between Logan and Patton, his legs bouncing up and down in nervous energy.
Some time passes and he gets up to pace around the room. A million thoughts run through and out of his mind, each one more horrifying than the last, and try as he might to shut them down, he can’t help but think them.
What had happened to Roman? Was it Virgil’s fault? Oh God, of course it was Virgil’s fault. Now Roman was hurt and in the hospital and the last thing his boyfriend told him was that he hated him. What a fucking idiot. What a stupid moron Virgil was, he thought as he bit his thumbnail, chipping away the black nail polish there.
The tears finally start dripping down his face, falling in rhythm with the steady rain outside. If there was ever a moment Virgil had hated himself in his life it was now. And when he looked up at his friends, Patton is holding out his arms.
Virgil jumped into them with a sob and buried his head into the crook of his neck. The two cry together and soon Logan joined them and so did Vanessa. They stay like that until the door opens and the doctor walks in.
They separate and Virgil stood weakly in front of him. They all watch him, waiting for him to say something, anything. Virgil’s mind buzzed and became a broken record. Roman. Roman. Roman. Where was Roman? Roman, Roman.
The doctor opens his mouth to say something, and Virgil can hear the air stiffen and senses everyone in the room lean in closer. But then he closed his mouth and gave them all a sad look as he shook his head.
And that’s all Virgil needed to collapse onto the ground and scream.
Roman died that day at seventeen years old, February 14. Valentine’s Day, of all days.
After his death the police told Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Vanessa the story. Roman had gotten shot by some guy in an alley in attempt to save a kid he didn’t know. It was the dumbest way to die that Virgil had ever heard, but that was Roman. Always putting others before himself, being everyone’s knight in shining armor, even after Virgil had claimed he always only cared about himself the morning of his death.
But no matter how much the police had insisted it was a murder, Virgil couldn’t help but feel it was a suicide, in a twisted way. Sure, Roman had been killed by someone else’s hand—who the cops were still trying to apprehend, and spoiler alert, they never did—but Roman had reason to die. He probably was going to commit suicide anyways, Virgil thought after hearing about what happened at the theatre mixed in with him and his argument with Roman. What a stupid, petty thing that argument seemed like now.
And that was another thing, the thing that went down at the theatre. It was true, Roman wasn’t going to be able to play the lead in Winter Wonderland for the premier the following week, and it was the only part Logan confirmed. What Denis has lied to Roman about was everything else. Roman wasn’t kicked out of the show, just for the opening night, and it wasn’t because he wasn’t talented.
Quite the opposite in fact. Roman had been invited for a week long trip to New York to go to the place he had dreamed of his whole life, Broadway. Some directors there had wanted to meet with him on account of his performances and experience in stage so that he may start working there as soon as he graduated. Then Roman would’ve been able to come back in time to do the rest of the performances for Winter Wonderland and finish senior year. ‘Would’ve’ was the key word there.
Virgil didn’t know exactly what happened to Denis. Rumors were spread about how he was kicked out of the Dreamscape Theatre and forced to get a job as a fast food worker. Others said he went to juvenile for some amount of time, but Virgil didn’t exactly believe that one as much since Denis didn’t actually participate in the crime. But whatever happened, Denis Cire was never seen again.
A week after Roman’s death Virgil went to see Dr. Picani for an individual appointment, but Patton still came along for support. Both of them sat on the seats in his office as Dr. Picani’s gaze shifted uneasily between the two.
“I- I want to start off by saying I’m sorry-“
“Don’t. It’s okay, man,” Virgil cut him off, and Patton sent him a scolding look.
“What he means is thank you, Picani. But it’s not your fault,” Patton corrected for his friend.
Dr. Picani tried to smile, but it’s extremely hard to when grief is so thick in the air between them all. “I guess I should ask how your feeling, Virge, but...” Picani’s voice trailed off and Virgil looked down at his fingers, absently twiddling together.
“Yeah. I’m- I’m not doing too good,” Virgil responded, and a single tear dropped down from his eye.
“Now, I’m not usually a counselor for grief, but I figured you’d want to see me one last time, so just say what’s on your mind,” Dr. Picani explained, giving Virgil an encouraging nod. Patton placed a hand on Virgil’s knee and Virgil took a deep breath.
“A lot. There’s a lot that’s on my mind. There’s been a lot in mind these past few days and, uh...” Virgil stopped to cough as two more tears stream down him. “I’ve been thinking a lot about him. About everything that happened, what it all lead up to. These concepts of happy endings and soulmates... I have a lot of regrets, but I have a lot of... not-regrets. I don’t know. I just know that I miss him. That I wish I could go back and make his last day on earth not as horrible. Or at least stop myself from telling him I hated him and letting that be the last thing he ever hears come out of my mouth. Because it’s not true. God, it’s not true.”
Virgil’s body shook a bit with intensity and he lets out a quiet sob. “He made me feel special, he made me feel like everything when my whole life I’ve been told I was nothing. I’m such a selfish bitch for never seeing it before, and now it’s too late. He-“ Virgil choked on the words. “He’s gone.”
A hush falls around the room and Dr. Picani asked, “And what about you, Virgil? You’re still taking care of yourself?”
Virgil shrugged. “You mean am I still eating? Yeah. And I’m still taking my meds. I’m not gonna commit suicide. I mean, Patton and Valerie kinda make sure that I don’t and that I’m still doing everything I’m supposed to be doing, but... something also tells me Roman wouldn’t have wanted me to kill myself just because he’s dead.”
Dr. Picani nodded. “Usually the death of a person causes one to ponder about the concepts of life and death. Have you-?“
“Well, yeah,” Virgil answered quickly. “It’s made me realize how much I took everything for granted. How my stupid sadistic thinking nearly ruined my life. But it’s also what drew Roman in... I think. For awhile at the beginning of our relationship I was worried that I was being proven wrong.”
“Proven wrong about what?”
“That happy endings don’t exist.“
“And were you wrong?”
“No. But I wasn’t right either.”
Dr. Picani gave him a confused look, and Virgil sighed.
“Look, I was right about one thing; love and life never end well. Not when we’re all fated for tragedy,” Virgil said then but his lip. “But... but I was wrong about another; the parts in the middle can actually be good… and worth it.”
“And you don’t think you can achieve that true, happy ending anymore?” Dr. Picani asked curiously, tapping the eraser of his pencil against his lips.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s not here anymore. Because he was my happily ever after. Because… Roman was my soulmate.”
Virgil had only wished he would’ve figured it out sooner.
There wasn’t much else to say, and Virgil and Patton had to leave anyways if they wanted to get to the funeral on time. Somehow Patton had managed to throw Virgil into a tux that morning, one that was completely made up of shades of crisp violet. On any other occasion, Virgil would’ve jumped for joy at the sight of it, but today was not a day for that.
Virgil and Patton had spent their time getting each other ready, Patton simply throwing on a boring black suit and combing his hair back slightly. But Virgil put on his suit and then proceeded to gel his hair back, except for one annoying strand that stuck to his forehead. His face was caked in white foundation and dark makeup, even if he knew he was going to cry again at the funeral. He didn’t seem to really care, though.
When he and Patton got the funeral Logan was the first to greet him in a dark blue suit, hugging both of them tightly and gives an extra nod to Vigil, who nodded back. Then Vanessa joined them, holding Fiona’s hand, who looked up at Virgil.
“Hi, Virgil,” she greeted, voice like stone. Virgil crouched to her level and ruffled her hair as best as he could since it was pulled back into two braids.
“Hey, Fiona. Are you okay?” Virgil asked. Fiona shrugged, and the melancholy expression on her didn’t need words. Virgil pulled her into a hug, and she lightly cried into his shoulder as Patton, Logan, and Vanessa talked above them.
“He loved you. A lot, Virgil,” Fiona mumbled into his ear and Virgil nodded.
“I know. He loved you a lot too.”
“I know. But not like you, Virgil. Not like you.”
They all walk over to the array of chairs set on the field of the church before them. Roman would’ve wanted a funeral outside, so that’s what he was getting. On a platform in front of them is a coffin, made of smooth dark wood. As they all neared it Virgil could feel his breath shortening, and they all sat together in the front row as more people piled into chairs.
At some point, the funeral conductor walked in and started speaking, but all Virgil can look at is Roman’s coffin. Roman was in there. But Roman couldn’t hold him anymore. He couldn’t card a hand through his hair and kiss him anymore. He couldn’t do anything anymore because he was dead. Dead, dead, dead. For some reason, Virgil just couldn’t seem to get that through his head.
At some point, the man stopped talking and Logan took his place. He, Patton, and Virgil had all prepared eulogies, Vanessa being too depressed and sort of shocked still about the whole thing to really put something together. Virgil felt especially bad for her, being a single mother and losing her eldest child that was about to graduate. Virgil couldn’t imagine it.
“My name is Logan Crofter, Roman’s best friend. We’ve known each other for quite awhile, for about four years in fact, and while we never were the most... similar of individuals, we certainly went through thick and thin together,” Logan said, and smiled faintly. “If it weren’t for Roman, I wouldn’t be pursuing the career I am now. In Roman’s second year of high school Roman was going to audition for the musical, just as he did the year before, but this time he dragged me into it. I was a senior at the time and I signed up for tech crew. It changed my life, to say the least. Roman changed my life. Now I’m going to going to school for Technical Theatre instead of Chemical Engineering. And I couldn’t be happier with how that turned out.”
Logan was crying a bit now, which made Virgil shudder. Before Roman died he’d never seen the nerd cry, but he certainly was now, his voice stuttering over some words of his speech. “B-but, of course this isn’t about me. This is about Roman, a man who’s smile never failed to brighten any room he walked into, a man who always put others before himself. Most importantly, however, Roman was a friend, the greatest friend I could’ve asked for. Thank you.”
Some people clapped, some people nodded as they cried, and Logan sat back down next to Virgil. The two hugged, holding onto one another tightly as Patton went to stand on the podium. When they broke apart, Logan patted a hand on Virgil’s shoulder as the latter smiled sadly up at him.
“Not bad, pocket protector,” Virgil said, and Logan chuckled slightly.
“Ah, I see you will be the one keeping on with the creative nicknames,” Logan commented, and Virgil shrugged.
“Hey, somebody’s gotta do it.”
Patton began his speech, and Virgil and Logan listened to him ramble on about memories of Roman. Roman getting his first role in a musical in middle school, Roman standing up to bullies on the playground that were picking on the little kids in elementary school, Roman always bringing his friends ice cream when they were having a bad day. Roman this, Roman that.
Virgil felt warm tears falling down his face as Patton continued to recount stories of Roman’s youth. He really was a prince in all meaning of the word. Virgil’s heart thudded as his eyes slowly traveled from Patton’s face to Roman’s coffin. A warmth drizzled through him as he stared at it, his body knowing Roman was there, he was right there-! But he had to shove it down, the urge to run up to it, open it, and see Roman’s face one last time.
Virgil knew that would only make him feel worse. Roman’s face would be cold, and dead, no longer full of life. He couldn’t imagine it, but he knew that would be the case. Though the doctor had said he died with a smile on his face. How could that have been? What had put that smile there when he knew he was about to die? Virgil didn’t know. He would never know.
At some point, Patton sat down and was squeezed into an embrace by Logan, but Virgil was too caught up in his thoughts too register this. Someone else went up to the podium, a guy Virgil didn’t recognize, but from his speech explained he was a friend of Roman’s and a theatre kid just like him.
Virgil didn’t really listen to it, though. He tried to, but all he could do was stare at Roman’s coffin and fill with anxiety when he realized he would have to stand up there, on that very podium, next. Looking around there wasn’t too-too much people there, but enough to make Virgil squirm of fear. Fear that they’d judge him, fear that his eulogy was too tacky and they’d hate it, fear that he was going to let Roman down again at his goddamn funeral.
The boy on the podium finished and Virgil knew it was his turn. His blood ran cold and he swallowed, feeling Logan and Patton’s eyes on him. He stared at them and they gave him each a thumbs-up. He grinned back, standing up as he took a deep breath. He could feel everyone looking at him now, their eyes burning into the back of his head. From how much he had already cried he knew there were several black lines marked down his face, and now Virgil assumed he looked like a reject from an 80’s horror movie. God, they probably were already snickering behind him because of his ridiculous purple hair and tux. They hated him already, oh God-
But then Virgil looked up at Roman’s coffin again and he felt everything melt away. He was doing this for Roman. Not him.
So Virgil walked up to the podium, slowly, each step heavier than the last until he finally made it to the microphone stand, and he looked over the sea of people that had been apart of Roman’s life. Vanessa and Fiona sat in the front row, the pain in both their faces too indescribable for Virgil to look at, Patton and Logan right beside them, Patton leaning into Logan and sobbing quietly into his shirt, Aunt Val sniffing into a tissue, and then he looked down at his own hands. They shook as he wrapped them around the cold surface of the microphone handle and he gulped. He didn’t dare look up again as he opened his mouth carefully and began...
“My name is Virgil Hernandez, and I hated life. I hated life because of this, because of death. My... my mother died when I was eight years old, murdered by her own husband. I let her mistake of falling in love with someone she shouldn’t have shape my entire view on life and romance. I truly believed ever since then that love was the worst thing you could ever have in you life, because at one point or another one of you is going to leave, and you’ll feel more alone than ever.”
Virgil paused to look over at the coffin beside him, running his hand gingerly over the smooth, cool wood. He felt his lower lip tremble and tears gloss his eyes, his burning throat aching to close up and silence forever, but he pushed on.
“I wish I could stand here and tell you I was completely wrong about that. I really, really do. But even if love hurts like hell—and I don’t think I’ve ever found a thing that doesn’t—I was wrong to think it wasn’t worth the pain. I could tell you so many things about Roman Prince; he was the light of my life, he was everything to me... he- he was my soulmate. I never even got the chance to tell him that. B-but I’m going to tell you something else instead, something that if I told myself about one year ago I would’ve laughed myself sick; I don’t regret falling in love with Roman one bit. I- I was right. I was horribly right when I said all love ends in torture, but I don’t care. I don’t care because Roman showed me that someone truly caring for you is something that you only experience once in your lifetime.”
Virgil looked up at the crowd seeing every eye looking at him, some wet with tears, some wide with interest, all of them hanging onto his every word.
“You don’t get used to death. You push people away, you cry for the ones you lost to come back, you try so hard not to get attached to anyone else ever again. But don’t. Happily ever afters may not exist, I know that much, but true love does. I loved Roman, and I still do, more than anything else in the world. Which is why I’m going to make sure to do something for him, and I encourage you to do the same; live life, get heartbroken, but at the very least, die alive. That’s all the ending we could all ever need... I promise.”
Virgil’s eyes scanned over everyone, who were all silent for a good minute after he finished. A breeze of wind whipped at his face and hair, and he realized then what a beautiful day it actually was. The sun was shining, but not too bright, white puffy clouds hung in the air, and the air held a fragrance that smelled distinctly of honey and strawberries.
Virgil looked back down at Roman’s coffin, and as he did he heard it. The sounds of applause, starting off small but then growing so that it was booming into Virgil’s ears. Everyone was standing, crying, and clapping, staring at Virgil with pure adoration and Virgil smiled softly back.
He went to go sit next to Patton and Logan again, and the two were quick to embrace him, patting his back and telling him how good he did in between sobs. They stayed like that for awhile, and even through the closing part of the ceremony, they stayed in each other’s arms. Virgil let the feeling of Patton’s hand rubbing his back and Logan’s hands threaded into his hair comfort him until his tears ran out, and everyone got up to leave.
Virgil stood up, slightly dizzy, and was immediately wrapped up in the embrace of Vanessa, with little Fiona clinging to his leg. “I’m sorry-“ Vanessa began in a watery voice, but Virgil shushed her.
“No, I’m sorry, Vanessa. Roman was your son, not mine,” Virgil said as they leaned off one another, but Fiona still clung to his leg.
Vanessa gave him a smile, tight and sad so that all was left of her lips was a thin, pink line, and she wiped her eyes. “Yes, well, I can see you were very close to him too. I’m no expert on romance now, that was more of him and his dad’s thing, but if you say you two were soulmates I’m not arguing against you.”
Virgil nodded, and he hugged her again before leaning down to pick up Fiona.
“Are you gonna go, Virgil?” Fiona asked, and the question made Virgil frown.
“What? No, of course not, Fiona,” he said, but she shook her head.
“No, no. Go to college far away,” she explained and Virgil cocked his head.
“Yes, I wish to know as well,” Logan said from behind them, one arm wrapped around Patton’s waist, who was still crying into his boyfriend’s shoulder. “Patton and I will miss you dearly if you do end up going to that college in New York that you mentioned to him.”
“Oh. Yeah, I think... I think I’ll be heading up there to do music,” he said with a shrug, eyes drifting to Roman’s coffin. Something like shame tugged at him but he swallowed it down.
Eventually, they had to say goodbye to Vanessa and Fiona as they left in their van, leaving Logan, Patton, and Virgil the only ones left after Virgil told Aunt Valerie he would be hanging with the guys. Logan has taken a cab to get there, so they all piled into Patton’s car and went over to Logan and Patton’s apartment.
The place was small but homey, and Patton told Virgil to make himself comfortable as Logan and him made sandwiches in the kitchen. So Virgil took off his suit, aside from the pants and the lavender shirt underneath, and sprawled himself out on the couch to think for a little while, or as much as he could with all the racket of Logan and Patton in the kitchen, Patron attempting to sing the lyrics to some pop song in order to make himself feel better.
Virgil stared up at the cracks in the ceiling, breathing slowly. So Roman was dead. Virgil thought that that thought finally got through his dumb heart, and now all he felt was numb. All the things they wanted to do together, all the things that could’ve been. They could’ve gotten an apartment together-- and Virgil didn’t even care where at that point--and gotten married, and loved each other for many years. So many years, so little time.
Virgil was starting to give himself a headache. But there was still an itch inside him. He wanted to see Roman one last time, one final time before he was buried tomorrow morning. His body twitched at the thought of seeing Roman again, dead or not, and he sighed.
He was going to move on—no, move forward—from this, he had to, but he just had to see him one last time.
Logan and Patton finished with the sandwiches and they all ate together, watching some sitcom on T.V as they talked about the future, Patton in Logan’s lap and Virgil on the other side with his knees curled up to his chest.
“Do you want to spend the night, Virge?” Patron asked, the question was posed as not much of a question, but rather an order.
“Yeah,” Virgil mumbled, toying with his leftover crust. “I’ll call Aunt Val later and tell her.”
Patton beamed at this and the three spent the rest of the afternoon reminiscing, and though Virgil felt safe and calm with the two, something was missing that none of them addressed. Not until Patton started crying again and they all gathered each other into each other’s arms, bawling softly.
That evening, a game show was on the T.V and an abandoned Monopoly board was spread across the coffee table. Logan and Patton had fallen asleep, curled up together, but Virgil was awake, staring lazily at the floor until he looked up at his two snoring friends.
Virgil slowly got off the sofa, carefully as not to wake them, and crept out of the apartment after shoving his phone and Patton’s keys into his pocket. As soon as he was on the other side of the door, he scurried out, down the stairs and out to the parking lot. He sat himself in Patton’s car and drove off, all the way back to outside of the church where Roman’s coffin still stood on the podium, ready to be buried in a few more hours.
Virgil got out of the car and ran over to the podium, running his hands across the coffin carefully before opening up the lid. Virgil wanted to cry out of relief or of sadness, he couldn’t quite tell which, and the sight of Roman filled up his vision. His soulmate, who once said his one true happy ending would be knowing he found his soulmate, and Virgil never got to tell him he did.
They never got the chance to become what they wanted to be.
Roman looked so at peace, his face calm and a slight grin planted on it. They had put him in a nice suit. He was so, so handsome, Virgil thought as he lightly ran a hand down his face, tracing his lips hesitantly as he sobbed. Virgil leaned off of him and pulled out his phone, tapping on a song in his music library that wasn’t quite like the others and it began to play softly.
“What A Wonderful World” spilled out from the phone and Virgil shoved it in his shirt pocket so that it was still audible and he sang along, still running a hand down Roman’s face as he did so.
“I see trees of green, red roses too
I see them bloom for me and you
And I think to myself what a wonderful world...”
Virgil’s hands ran through his hair. Even now it was fluffy, easy to thread his fingers through as he played with its slight red-brown curls streaked with magenta.
“I see skies of blue and clouds of white
The bright blessed day, the dark sacred night
And I think to myself what a wonderful world.”
His eyelashes, his nose, his lips, which Virgil kissed softly for the last time. The sensation was bittersweet, and when he leaned back he started to cry harder.
“The colors of the rainbow so pretty in the sky
Are also on the faces of people going by
I see friends shaking hands saying how do you do
They're really saying I love you.”
Virgil crashed onto his knees now, crying rounds after rounds of tears, gasping to catch his breath, but his hands stayed wrapped around the rim of the coffin. His voice was rough and hoarse, but he continued singing anyways.
“I hear babies crying, I watch them grow
They'll learn much more than I'll never know
And I think to myself what a wonderful world
Yes I think to myself what a wonderful world.”
For that night, Virgil didn’t go home or back to Patton and Logan’s apartment, but stayed by Roman’s side, crying and grieving until the morning sun fell over him.
And he lived.