CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Doctor Cain's body is wrapped in a body bag, and leveled on a shade, and away from the scorching rays of the sun. I'm guessing it's Hendrix's idea of paying his last respect to his father, in every little way possible.

"I'm sorry." I whisper to his hearing, still pained that he has to face this for our course.

I rest a hand on his shoulder and pat tenderly, tapping every now and then.

He doesn't respond, rather he lays his hand on top of mine and squeezes gently. Too broken to even say I word, and I totally understand.

The sight of his father now disposed of in a bag erupts so many emotions that he fought so hard to bury.

Unexpectedly, he breaks down, sobbing like a child who was scolded by his angry mother. Not thinking twice, I wrap him in a bear hug, big enough to give him the warmth and comfort needed despite my petite frame.

"Let it out, honey, let it all out." I whisper. Gently, I pat his back and rub his shoulders.

And just like I demanded, he keeps sobbing, snorting in between. He crumbles to his knee, and I squat to his level, still keeping him in the warmth of my embrace, only this time he buries his head in my neck, sniffing for any distraction.

I let him, as I lace my fingers in his thick hair and rub his scalp smoothly.

"Thank you." He says after a while and looks up at me, freeing himself from the now smoldering hug. "I needed that." He forces a smile.

"Anytime." I smile back and peck him on his cheek, before he gets up and walks out of sight, going through the backyard. When he resurfaces, he's holding an old shovel and a rake.

It takes an extra twenty minutes before he finds an appropriate spot, still treating his papa delicately even in his death bed. He begins to dig the soil with the old shovel, which costs him more than the usual time needed for the job.

By the side, I only watch him, bring a cup of water when he demands it or anytime I feel he should take a break and a drink, also a small face towel and anything he seeks, or I deem necessary.

It takes more than three hours of hard toiling to get the shape of a perfect six feet beneath. Satisfied with his hours of hard work, he climbs out of the deep grave.

"Do you want to relax? You look so stressed to push the sand back into the earth." I ask, concerned.

He arches his brows and looks at the deep grave... his hours of labor. Sweat and mud kisses his tanned skin and all over his face. To say he's sweating profusely and definitely exhausted is to say the least.

"Nah, I should get this done and over with." He sighs. "There's no need to linger it longer than it should. Besides, keeping him here isn't any good for him." He looks at the corpse trapped in the bag.

I feel the emotions buried underneath his voice, he's hurting and I can tell. From his low voice to his somewhat shaky hands. He needs not act super man with me.

He senses my eyes trail his features, and brings his hands on his waist for support, to feign strong for the moment.

"I could help with the last part, you just level him in and let me cover him up." I offer.

He looks at the grave then at me and a smirk lurks around his lips.

What was so funny?

"I don't know what that look and smile is for, and I don't want to have to worry about it."

"Saves us both, actually."

I frown. "Let me help with the others, your should relax." He smiles and pauses. "And hug me... and peck me." He finishes.

He's being naughty, and I would gladly indulge. For record's sake, he still owes me my reward.

"And you should sit pretty. Your only duty is to watch me."

"Okay." I shrug, not objecting anymore.

He drops the shovel and comes to the corpse. I bend down to help him share the weight.

"Nat, you will be needing your strength later. For now, relax."

I scoff. "I don't know what you mean." I feign ignorant.

How is he able to mask his emotions this much and joke about stuff trivial to this moment?

"You will find out soon." He warns.

Not going against his wish, I let him lift up the body and walk to the grave. He drops it by the side of it and steps inside, before carrying it on his arms and down in the grave.

When he climbs out of it, he stands still, watching the body of the man he once called papa. And now, he couldn't hold back those pent-up emotions as he sobs again, like a child.

I get off the shade and into the heat of the sun, my all-black attire makes it hard to escape its torture. But it isn't as tormenting as watching Hendrix weep, this time uncontrollably.

Not saying a word, I wrap him up in a bear hug, not too tight to give him freedom to mourn and not too free, to comfort him with my warmth. If this is all he needs from me at this moment, I would gladly offer myself.

The smell of damp soil and his sudor hits me. Instead of pulling away, I bury my nose in his stained flesh, filling my lungs with his natural scent of lavender and spice.

"It's okay to mourn." I whisper in his ears, subtly.

And like he constantly needs my permission to let it all out, and so he continues to sob. I gently turn him to face me and lower his head to lean on my shoulder, with his face buried in my slender collarbone.

I pat his back softly and stroke the length of his arms. As he lets it all out, I feel soaked. Not from my perspiration due to the scorching sun, but his tears as they dampened my fabric and likewise my skin.

"Thank you." He whispers his usual line when he's satisfied, his voice a silent cry. He pulls away from me, goes to pick up the shovel, and begins pouring the sand into the grave.

It takes another hour before he's done, with the grave perfectly covered and leveled almost like the earth wasn't displaced.

I take the shovel from his grip, which he allowed me to do, and tuck my hand in his arm, as I escort him inside.

"You need to freshen up." I speak up after a long time.

"I know I smell like shit right now."

"If shit smells like this, then I would purchase it as my favorite perfume. The perfect smell of lavender and spice."

I let him blush.

"I only asked that you bathe, you truly don't smell horrible."

"Fair enough, I will." He states bluntly.

"No, you won't..." I begin and pause to let him look at me.

Happy that I've gotten his attention, I give him a charming smile, spreading love and warmth between us.

He's quite surprised, noting the sudden change in decision from the very lady who advised him to.

"Isn't it what you wanted?" He can't hide his surprise.

"Nope." I tease, hugging him tightly, damning the output of sweat.

"Okay?..." His eyes widen.

"...I want to help you." I finish, crazy as can be.