Unbeknownst to anyone, besides Jasper, all week Rae and her mother -when her mum was actually up to it- have been planning the funeral. There have been phone calls made to floral shops, a service scheduled, a funeral home booked, and one finical break down where Rae had calculated the bill. That was when Jasper gently took over, told her not to worry about it, and sent her upstairs.

Now Rae is standing in her room, hands shoved into her back pockets and having a staring contest with her camera. She hasn't touched it for a week. She can't, hasn't be able too. There's just been too many memories of Ronan, all captured in time on it. Maybe she doesn't have to make a slide show, maybe she can just take one of the pictures already framed and display it that way. However, her mother had asked her to do this, and no matter how painful it'll be for her, it will always be doubled with her mother. So, she's going to do this.

She's going to scroll through all the pictures not yet uploaded, take all the undeveloped film rolls, search through her computer files and put together a slide show of Ronan. Rae briefly considers calling Louis, at least he can be a silent rock in the background in case the process becomes too much for her. Slowly, she begins to gather her camera bag, carefully putting in rolls of film, memory cards, and grabs her laptop.

She sends a text to Angelique on her way over, and when she arrives at the loft, turned art studio turned dark room, Angelique is there with open arms. Rae sinks into her friends comforting embrace, holds tight to her for a few moments. When they break apart, Angelique offers her a small smile, and gestures behind her.

"I've got Baileys. Hazelnut."

***

Rae makes it through a good hour before she cracks. She sits in the corner of the room, hugging her knees to her chest and squeezing her elbows so she doesn't dig her fingers into her healing skin. She was halfway through setting up the slide show, half way through picking out the freshly developed photos when she came across one that stopped her in her tracks. She was watching the blank photo as it developed, the image slowly coming to life beneath the developing liquid. When her brain registered what the picture was, her heart clenched painfully, her chest muscles tightened, her breath caught in her throat.

The photo had to be taken recently. Ronan is embraced by Rae herself, her arms wrapped around him, hugging him to her chest. His cheek is pressed against hers, two smiles fading into a soft memory they just shared. His beanie is askew, knocked off balance from when he smushed his face against hers. Their eyes are opened, both focused somewhere right of the camera, and Rae can't even remember anyone sneaking a picture. Rae had carefully taken the photo out after it was done with the developing process, and gently hung it up to dry.

Now, as she continues to huddle in the corner, she ponders who even took the photo. Maybe one of the nurses snapped a quick one before they came for Ronan's treatment. Maybe Jackie was walking by and seized the opportunity. Or maybe Greg was making his rounds, picked up her camera and took it. She doesn't know, and as Rae fights the urge to dig her nails into her chest, rather than her elbows, she's grateful for the picture.

Angelique came to check up on her, ended up walking in during this realization, and stayed. Rae watches her now as she finishes developing the rest of the photos. Eyes following her friends movements as she carefully hangs photos, gently placing some in the drying racks. She's a silent comfort for Rae, allows her to feel things in her own head, on her own time and Rae truly appreciates that.

Suddenly, she really appreciates her friends all at once; Kari for taking care of her those first few days, Liz for calling to check up on her. For Jasper, who looks like he'll become less of a boss to Rae, and more of a constant light in her mother's life. For Angelique all around, for support in her photography, her basically giving Rae her dark room, for coming in while Rae has a small mental breakdown. For all five boys who had abruptly come into her life and refused to leave. To the one currently standing in the now open doorway of said dark room. Rae blinks several times, but instead of her just thinking she's imaging him standing there, Louis doesn't fade away.

"Oh." Angelique pipes up, breaking the long silence. "I called Louis." She turns around, offering a small smile to Rae.

All Raelyn does is nod, returning a smile. She watches as Angelique's brows furrow down slightly, then points something out to Louis. His eyes follow her finger, sees the photo that lead to Rae making home in her corner and realization dawns on his face. He looks good, Rae notes in her head. He's been letting his stubble grow out more, dusting all around his jaw, chin, upper lip, just touching his cheeks. He's beautiful and Rae misses him, which is absurd because she saw him several hours ago. But her heart aches in the way it only does when he's around.

Louis finally enters the room, makes his way over to her, and squeezes himself between Rae and the wall. It's a tight fit, she knows this, and Louis knows this and in turn, it makes her smile. Rae lets her head drop to his shoulder, releases one hand from her elbow to find his. When she does, Louis fits his fingers between hers, and gives a comforting squeeze. She feels his lips press against her hair, and Rae closes her eyes, breathes him in. He smells a little like cinnamon, like maybe Harry was baking before he left, and smells like the ocean and Autumn leaves all wrapped up in one. That's how Rae falls asleep; her side pressed up against Louis', her head on his shoulder and his fingers tangled with hers.

When she wakes up two hours later, Louis refuses to confess his whole arm fell asleep.

***

It's Saturday morning. Saturdays are for sleeping in. Made for just lying around, bumming around all day, to relax, well, for normal people who aren't in an internationally famous band, that is. Saturdays aren't meant to be sad days. Louis has never been this sad in his entire life. Not even when his parents divorced. Not even when, for the shortest amount of time, on X-Factor, where he truly thought it was the end of the line for him.

He stands in the back, behind all the chairs lined up in perfect rows, in line with the other lads, Alberto and Paul all clad in black suits, black ties, standing inside a small church. He and the boys opted to stand in the back, away from the family and friends, not to draw too much attention to themselves. Louis makes sure, however, that Rae is always in his line of sight, even if it's just the back of her head, or the hem of her dress.

His eyes scan around the room before the service starts. Little blue flowers and white lilies all stacked up in the way flowers should never be, representing all kinds of sadness. The seats are quite full, never realizing how many people actually knew Rae's family and Ronan's story. His eyes land on framed pictures; photos he recognizes from earlier shoots, and ones he watched Rae's friend develop.

The slide show begins and Louis' eyes snap back to Rae. She's talking to an elderly man, Louis assumes it's the Priest, with her back to the projector screen. She's holding her mothers hand tightly in hers, nods, then leads her mother to their seats. The Priest takes his place behind the podium, and begins the service. He tries to keep his eyes on Rae most of the time, just to make sure she's holding up.

The service goes on with a few readings of versus from the Bible. Louis hears the door behind him open and close quietly once, sees an usher from the corner of his eye standing respectfully at the side. His attention snaps forward again, the Priest informing the people gathered that the family has a few words to share. Louis didn't know this would be happening. He should have, family members normally do so for their loved ones, but Rae never mentioned she'd be the one to stand up there.

Raelyn slowly makes her way to the podium, placing a white sheet of paper down in front of her. Louis watches with bated breath, while Rae inhales deeply, probably counting in her head. She places one shaky hand on her chest, rubs once and grimaces subtly Louis thinks he's the only one who catches it. Except Zayn shifts next to him, elbow brushing against his. Seems like Louis isn't the only one anticipating a panic attack. He's suddenly struck with the knowledge of why Rae's up there; she can't physically cry. He knows she was more than likely offered to do this in place of her mother.

Despite that fact, Louis is curious to see if Rae will finally shed a tear, even just one. This moment is hard to watch, people already sniffling, already shedding tears in place of Rae's absent ones. Her eyes lift up from the paper, and freeze the moment she spots him. Except, she isn't looking at Louis, instead her gaze is pinpointed to the usher beside him. Confused, Louis looks to his right, sees the usher, and next to the usher, is Raelyn's father. Louis's stomach lurches, and he elbows Zayn.

David is half hidden behind the usher, knows he was never actually invited to the funeral. Louis wants to do something, wants to say something, make him leave so that look is no longer gracing Rae's face. However, he feels a hand squeeze his elbow in warning, turns his head to see Zayn shaking his head. So instead, Louis swallows the fiery anger curling up his insides, and looks back at Rae. He can see a muscle jumping by her jaw, sees her fists clenched one the podium, and her blue eyes ablaze. Louis' sure if she could pick up the heavy wood podium, she'd chuck it at her father.

Instead, Louis shifts, moves around until Rae's eye snap over to him. It takes a few seconds, but the anger in her eyes fade away while she blinks. She gives Louis the tiniest hint of a smile, and begins speaking.

With David momentarily forgotten, Louis listens to Rae's soft, uneven voice, yet it's laced with strength. There aren't tears in Rae's eyes, but the room is filled with all kinds of sounds as she speaks. Soft and loud sniffles, quiet and broken sobs, noses being blown into tissues. Rae's right hand is back at her chest, still rubbing circles into her black dress, as if it would suddenly break open the dam that has been sitting in her chest for years.

Rae talks about how brave Ronan was, about the strength she wished she had that he had every day. Speaks about Ronan's never fading smile, about his laugh that lit up a whole room. She tells her family and friends little stories, thanks everyone who has supported him and her family through every step of the way. Louis' been holding back his own tears, until Rae begins to tell everyone what Ronan's favorite thing in the world was; music.

The slideshow behind her changes pictures as it transitions into a familiar song. It's not until Louis really listens to it, does he pick up what is it. It's their song. Or rather, an instrumental piano version of Little Things. He's not sure where she got it, probably youtubed the whole night to find a version like that. What finally makes Louis lose his fight with his tears are the pictures playing along with the music. Nearly every photo Rae took of the five of them and her brother displays smoothly, one right after another. Louis' heart breaks for the beautiful little boy who held on for as long as he could.

Rae pauses for a moment, and Louis swears she sways on the spot. Her eyes snap up to Louis' watery ones, and he quickly wipes away the tears falling down his cheeks. Louis taps his chest twice, and Rae finally drops the hand at her chest. He watches her take a deep breath, closing her eyes for a second, before refocusing her gaze back on Louis. Rae ends her eulogy by singing a little piece of Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

When she finishes, there's not a dry eye in the place besides her own. Louis has been constantly swiping at his own eyes, and when the Priest comes back up to inform everyone to move outside, he feels an arm wrap around him, a hand squeezing his shoulder tightly. Zayn is giving him a shaky smile, both knowing what's to come next.

The toughest part of any funeral involves moving out onto the actual graveyard. It's several long moments before Zayn releases his grip around Louis' shoulders. He shakes head, wipes his thumbs beneath his eyes, then levels Louis with a clear look. Briefly, Louis takes in the others expressions; he's sure Niall's red, splotchy face, Liam's broken expression, and Harry's puffy eyes all match his face as well. He looks back at Zayn, eyes much clearer with a knowing gaze. Louis' heart sinks to his stomach when Zayn's eyes shift over to Rae, who's walking out behind her mother, but her own eyes are glaring several feet away from Louis.

"She'll need you, Louis." Zayn says softly, the corners of his mouth turning down as he watches Rae touch her hand to her chest again, before disappearing from view.

Louis nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. When he looks behind him to see her father, he's gone.

***

If Louis thought he was the saddest during the service, it is nothing compared to the actual lowering of the small casket into the ground. He is standing across the way from Rae, having tried and failed to get closer to her, to at least offer her a comforting hand. It is absolutely heart-wrenching to watch. It becomes too much for MaryAnn, her knees buckling, clutching to her daughter for support, breaking down into sobs. She's clutching Ronan's blue blanket to her chest, and Louis can hardly hear, but it sounds like she's muttering a constant string of "my baby".

Tears are freely falling down Louis's face, and his heart feels like it's being slammed repeating against whitehot spikes to the point where he has to put his own hand over his chest. It's in this moment, this horribly tragic moment, that Louis finally, and fully understands what Rae usually feels. Understands her need to rip out her own heart because it's less painful than to actually feel it breaking into little pieces. Watching MaryAnn sob into Raelyn's shoulder is the most earth shattering moment Louis has ever witnessed.

He has to look away, keeps his eyes on the grass that's too green beneath his feet. Niall sinks down into one of the open chairs next to Louis, burying his head in his hands, his attention now on his friend, sees Liam place his arm over him for comfort. Louis does so as well, squeezing Niall's shoulder. Someone moves behind him, grabbing Louis' elbow frantically.

"Is she going to faint!?" Harry asks breathlessly, panic evident in his tear ridden voice.

Louis eyes snap back to Raelyn. He understands Harry's slight panic; Rae is as white as the lilies on the casket. She's still holding onto her mother despite Jasper and MaryAnn's cousin stepping in to help. The tendons in her hands are taut over her knuckles, her teeth are cutting into her bottom lip. She is visibly shaking, losing her footing as she sways a little trying to support her mother. It's her eyes that give her away, blinking rapidly as if she's trying to clear spots from her vision, and the colour of her irises are the palest blue Louis' ever seen.

Then Jasper is able to get a good grip on MaryAnn and Rae is free for a moment, looking around slowly like she's trying to find someone. Louis takes a step forward the second her gaze lands on him, ready to go to her. Rae shakes her head, pulls herself together so quick it gives Louis a whiplash. He's only seen her do that once before, and it's still terrifying how she's able to do that. As Rae turns away, Louis is suddenly struck with the realization that her breaking point is coming, and soon.

***

Raelyn just wants to be alone. She doesn't want there to be a gathering at her house, doesn't want her mother to have to try and thank everyone who came. She just wants to wrap her up in a warm blanket, and send her to bed with a cup of tea. Unfortunately that isn't going to happen, but Rae figures she's got about five minutes to herself before everyone else shows up. So she makes her way to her room, softly closing the door behind her. She's finally able to take off her heels, holding one in each hand, and just stands there.

It almost feels like the night they came home from the Hospice. It's all too quite, everything still besides the little particles dancing in the sunlight streaming through her window. The mess from the snow globe fiasco has been cleaned up the night before and everything is neatly in place, just as it was. The daylight illuminates every picture on the walls, every trinket, every single item Rae has in her room. Her bed is made, pillows straight and propping up the few stuffed animals on it. Everything is too clean, too perfect, too peaceful; everything completely opposite to how the day feels.

Rae feels like there's a hurricane trapped in her chest. Whirling around and around, waves slamming against her ribs, strong winds bursting in her stomach, knocking and blowing her insides around like they aren't attached to anything. It's all utter chaos that makes her feel dizzy. She felt it earlier, when her mother had a vice like grip on her arms, sobbing into her shoulder, grieving for her son. Tears were streaming down her cheeks, soaking into Rae's dress and all she wanted to do was rip her own heart out and give it to her mother. At least that way she wouldn't have to see the strongest woman, strongest person in her life fall apart like she did.

She felt sick to her stomach, which probably had to do with skipping meals since last night, but still nauseous like she ate a buffet. She had felt the beginnings of an attack, curling up her chest and around her heart, squeezing until she thought she would pass out. She had ignored it for her mum's sake, for everyone's really, too focused on holding her mother up, too focused on the shiny wooden casket laying her brother to rest. Forever.

Rae swallows, feels pain shoot through her chest once as her eyes scan over pictures of Ronan. Her gaze lands on her bed, where a blue cotton beanie lays in the middle. She doesn't remember taking it from her mother, nor bringing it up to her room and dropping it on the bed. It's the beanie Louis gifted Ronan, on the day he first took her out to lunch. Her mother has the other two beanies Ronan had wore; his original one he wore for the first three years, and the grey one Harry gave him on that day they matched. The knitted cotton is something they could never, and will never give or throw away. They carry too many memories, good and bad, amazing and terrible, and the blue one that made Ronan's eyes pop sits on her bed. Crudely taunts her with every memory sewn into it's pattern.

All the photographs on the walls, all the coloring book pages, the small stuffed animals, little knickknacks, the beanie. It all carries Ronan's memories, reminds her with an abrupt slap to her face that he little brother is gone, and never coming back. Never will Rae hear his bubbly laugh, hear his small voice asking her to sing his favourtie songs. She'll no longer see the dimple carving into his cheek, or the way his blue eyes, so much like hers, light up when telling his stories. Won't feel his lips press sloppily against her cheek, feel his sleeping weight on her chest, feel his little arms wrap around her neck. It's enough to finally break her.

There's a loud smack, follow by a thud, a sudden small dent gracing the far wall that wasn't there a second ago. It takes a few moments for Rae to realize she threw her shoe. It hit one of her posters, tearing a hole that reveals the dent. She snaps then, worse than when her father showed up unexpectedly, chucking her other shoe; hits the same wall, but different picture. Falls to the floor with a loud smack.

It's like a volcano erupts within Rae, lava coursing through her veins, fueling every emotion she tried shutting away. All her anger, her hurt, her heart break, the hope she lost, the faith in whatever she had vanished. Every single emotion amped up tenfold, because how is it fair that a little boy, young and innocent and beautiful, loses his life because he lost the battle known as cancer.

It makes her livid, makes her heart ache, stomach sick, and her chest constricts so intensely, Rae stumbles a little, throwing her arm out to catch herself. She knocks a few things off her desk in the process, watches them fall to the floor, sees the candle jar broken cleanly in half. Rae closes her eyes, blanking out.

***

It doesn't seem right, as they all pile into the car to drive to Rae's house, that the weather is actually nice. It should be violently storming, so it matches how the day feels, to portray the emotions that Louis saw in Raelyn's eyes. He remembers funerals he's attended for his own extended family members, and all he wanted to do was sleep after it was over. He can't even imagine how Rae and MaryAnn are feeling, how they're able to keep going today.

The car starts up, the engine rumbling, and Louis twists to look behind him, hoping to spot Rae. She had disappeared from his sight right after, doesn't know if she already went ahead of the crowd. Probably, given that everyone else is getting into their own cars. Louis straightens himself right when Zayn puffs out a breath.

"Fuck." Zayn mumbles from his seat by the window and next to Louis.

He wipes hastily at his eyes, and Louis squeezes his knee for comfort. Niall is sitting in the seat in front of them, has been silent since the funeral began, blue eyes blood shot from crying. Liam's arm is slung around his shoulder, no longer crying but his eyes are shiny whenever the light hits them. Harry's kept his head down next to Louis, but keeps wiping at his eyes and sniffling. Louis doesn't know how to comfort them all at once, so he just grabs Harry's hand and sets his chin between Liam and Niall on the row in front of him.

They pull up to the house fifteen minutes later, a few cars already in the driveway. Paul drops them off, informing them he'll park the car elsewhere. Louis never really understood why there are gatherings afterward. If it were him in MaryAnn's and Rae's position, he'd want nothing more than to just simply be alone afterwards with a big bottle of vodka, curled up in bed crying his eyes out. In this case, however, he knows if Rae has come to that, it would be a bottle of either wine or whiskey, curled up on her bed, rubbing frantically at her chest in attempt to force tears to flow. He doesn't want that to happen again.

They're met with light polite chatter when they enter the house, still a somber atmosphere lingering in the air. They're greeted by some of Rae's family members who recognised them at the funeral, and Louis spots Angelique, Liz, Kari and Max all chatting and all hovering close to MaryAnn.

What's concerning to him though, is the lack of Rae's presence. The four lads begin to spread out, and Louis' about to join them when a noise from upstairs halts him. He's grabs an arm nearest to him, which happens to be Liam's.

"Did you hear that?" Louis questions, looking at the staircase.

Liam follows his gaze, and frowns. "No? Should I have?"

Louis hears another sound, a dull thud, followed by another, and if his ears weren't already attuned, he wouldn't have heard it either. He turns to Liam, who's now looking at him curiously.

"Make sure no one go upstairs for a bit, yeah?"

Liam nods, comprehension dawning on his express. "Yeah. Call if you need us."

Louis nods, then quickl heads upstairs. The noises get louder as he gets closer, and they sound similar to when Rae was going through that memory box. Dread begins to weigh on his heart, anxious to open the door and see what's happening behind it. When he reaches her door, he doesn't hesitate to open it.

"Raelyn?" Louis calls out. He sees the mess before he sees her.

His eyes instantly falling on the disaster of the room. It looks like a tornado came through and wrecked everything. The Eiffel tower lamp has been knocked over, the bulb broken and lamp shade a few feet away. The jewelry box lays on its side, necklaces, rings, and the like all scattered along the dresser and floor. There are petals of dried-out roses all over the place, with their now empty stems next to Louis' feet. Nearly every poster, every photograph, every portrait has either joined the mess or clings helplessly to the wall by one piece of tape. The polaroids that had hung between the fairy lights aren't there anymore.

The whole room is an absolute wreck, save for Rae' bed, where a blue beanie remains undisturbed. Louis finally spots Rae in the corner between her bed and closet, one hand at her chest, the other gripping her hair so tight, he can see her skin at her temple being pulled taught.

"Fuck. Rae!" Louis rushes forward, kneeling next to her.

He doesn't know which hand he should pull away first. Raelyn doesn't respond, just trembles violently. If it weren't for the material of her dress, her nails would already be ripping open her healing skin. Louis fears for one heart stopping moment that she isn't breathing, but then hears her breaths barely coming out in short little puffs,

"Raelyn," He tries softly.

He has to remain calm, otherwise he won't be able to pull her out of this. He gently takes her right hand away from her chest, tangling their fingers together and squeezing as hard as he can. If she can feel that, she'll be able to hear him. Louis begins to go through the steps to help her, counting out her breathing in between soothing words.

He slowly uncurls her fingers ripping out her hair and when that's done, he carefully lifts her chin up so she can see his eyes. The tornado isn't in her room, but instead her eyes, and if Louis still had a full heart at this point, it'd break all over again.

Slowly, what seems like forever to Louis, Rae's shaking dies down to small tremors. Her breathing falls in rhythm with Louis' and the wild chaotic look in her eyes is replace by utter sadness. She squeezes his fingers hard, a sign that the attack is over. For the first time since Louis' known her, Rae's bottom lip trembles for a moment.

"Why?" Rae asks, voice barely audible, so feeble. "Why did it have to be him, Louis?"

Louis has no answer for that. Instead of saying anything, he simply pulls her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and waist. She presses her face into his neck, her soft breaths ghosting over his skin, sending chills up and down his spine.

"Stay." She murmurs, hands clutching at his shirt.

"Always, Rae. I'm never going anywhere." Louis promises her softly, gently pressing his lips to her forehead.

Rae nods once, begins to tremble again. Louis holds her tighter, and doesn't register the warm damp spot on his neck until Rae's hand jerks towards her chest. Passing it off as her breathing coming out in short pants again, Louis takes hold of her hand. He quietly hushes her, cooing sweet words, but mostly just holding her and rocking back and forth. It's when he feels her breath hit another part of his neck and another, then another, does he freeze, realizes that it's not her breath.

He never thought he'd witness this moment, and for a split second, he thinks it's all in his mind. But then Louis hears and feels a sob rip through Rae's body as she takes a deep shuddering breath. Just to make sure he isn't hallucinating, Louis reaches up to gently wipe his thumb beneath her eye. His thumb comes back damp. His action just causes Rae to finally, and fully break down, tears running down her face, dripping into the collar of his dress shirt.

Raelyn is crying.

After nearly four years of holding everything back, holding every emotion, every feeling down until it was lock away. All her anger, all her concerns, her fears, her heartbreak, it is all, finally, coming out. It's hitting her hard, and she's shaking but for the time first, it isn't due to a panic attack. Rae is sobbing into Louis' chest, and how incredibly significant this moment is to the girl in his arms. He just holds her as tight as he can, and allows her tears to dampen his chest, right over his heart.

**********************************************************************************************************

Notes