By the time Trevor eased him out of the clinic room and down the polished hallways, Lucas's eyes still burned, but the tears had slowed to damp tracks on his cheeks. He hated the rawness of it, hated the way his body felt lighter and heavier all at once, as though crying had taken something out of him and given something back in the same breath. Trevor didn't let him walk alone, his hand not once left Lucas's, the cedar threaded through every step like invisible armor.
The car ride back was quieter than the first. Lucas sat leaning into Trevor this time, the side of his face against the alpha's shoulder, not caring about the wrinkle in his jacket or the weight of his damp lashes. Trevor said nothing, didn't press, and didn't fill the silence. He only breathed slow and steady, letting Lucas match him, until the knot in his chest loosened enough that the trembling in his hands stilled.
