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There wasn’t much of a pattern that could be found, no solid explanation for the moods that crashed like waves into the cracks of his skull, nothing that would finally make the ghoul feel that yes. Yes, he understood this. He knew why this was happening. There was purpose behind these emotions. There must be a reason Rain felt such unendurable pain.
Things just hurt, sometimes. Made his chest sting as if it were caving in on himself, sometimes pushing far enough that gasping in a breath of fresh air felt like a great feat. It left him scrabbling to find something to do, pacing around his room like a mad mind, his body possessed with the idea that he could find a task to make it all go away. Like he’d pick up an object and his chest would finally be able to expand.
The next phenomenon was finding himself in Mountain’s room. He remembered the walk, always. There was clear recollection of his footsteps pounding nearly as fast as his heart, walking as briskly as possible to avoid any wandering eyes, but he could not for the life of him tell you what had brought him there. Had there been a thought process? If he’d been any calmer, his thoughts slow enough to grip on to, he would never embarrass himself by running to someone in such a state. But without fail, whenever it grew too much and he could no longer stand the feeling of falling into a dark abyss, he dragged himself there.
Should he really question it, though? He didn’t want to ruin the feeling of falling into the tallest ghouls arms. Finally gaining a smidge of stability with the dependable ghoul cradling him. Those moments were when the tears would come in full, like Mountain had pulled the plug to release the smothered sobs.
There were few occasions that the earth ghoul’s chest had proved itself a loyal place to muffle gut wrenching screams, when Rain became so enraged by his state that the only catharsis he could find was to express it violently.
He didn’t dare to wonder what Mountain must think. Truly tried not to dwell, lest those thoughts spiral. The ghoul never showed himself to be upset, there was never once a clipped tone, never a hardening of his face. His sweet, sweet Mountain, he never once complained. His large hands stroked themselves through the hair at the base of his skull, hushing quietly when it was obvious Rain couldn’t get a breath in between his cries. His tail firmly pressed behind his thighs, curling as far around as it was able.
He never rushed the younger ghoul to stop, never forced the idea of calm upon him until he could find it himself. There were only soft murmurs of care, never pity, gentle brushes of lips over his forehead, lingering just enough to be grounding. Holding Rain firmly until he deflated, guiding him to bed to lay him down. Not once had he ever left the ghoul’s side until Rain was able to handle it, and only ever strayed far enough to grab him a glass of water and something to nibble on.
He should be shocked that in those moments he could still feel the shame, despite his body being bone tired from the trembling, his eyelids barely able to hold themselves up. But he never let that stop him from speaking, only ever two words.
“Thank you.”
And he never had to wait long for a response.
“Always. Rest, now.”