11:45 PM – Virat’s Apartment
The soft hum of the city outside was the only sound filling the dimly lit apartment. Virat had just finished his night routine—feeding Luna, checking his messages, and making sure his patients were stable. It should have been a peaceful night.
But it never was.
As soon as he closed his eyes, the nightmares came.
Dark corridors. Cold metal against his skin. The sound of footsteps. Heavy breathing. The suffocating pressure of helplessness.
Virat's body jerked awake, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. His throat burned, but no sound came out. It felt like something was pressing down on him, like invisible chains holding him still.
Then came the second phase—the one he hated the most.
The urge.
Shaking, Virat stumbled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. His reflection in the mirror was pale, hollow-eyed, broken. His hands gripped the sink, knuckles turning white. Breathe. Just breathe.
But the weight on his chest didn’t ease.
He slid down onto the floor, knees pulled up, fingers digging into his arms—scratching, pressing, anything to feel something real. Something other than the ghosts in his head.
His nails left faint red marks on his skin, but it wasn’t enough.
He needed—
A soft meow.
Virat’s breath hitched.
A second later, Luna pawed at the bathroom door, her tiny claws scratching against it insistently.
Virat swallowed hard, pressing his forehead against his knees. “Go away, Luna,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “Not now.”
But Luna wasn’t the kind of cat to listen.
A loud thump—she was trying to headbutt the door open now.
Another scratch.
And then, the smallest, saddest meow.
Something inside Virat cracked.
With trembling hands, he reached out and unlocked the door.
The second it opened, Luna rushed in, tail fluffed, eyes wide with motherly concern. She took one look at him—curled up on the floor, red scratches on his arms—and immediately jumped onto his lap.
Virat gasped as she headbutted his chest, then began licking his face.
"Luna—"
But she wasn’t listening. She licked his tears away, one after another, her little paws pressing against his chest like she was trying to hold him together.
A small, broken sob escaped Virat’s lips.
And suddenly, he was crying.
He wrapped his arms around Luna, clinging to her like a lifeline, tears soaking into her fur. She didn’t move away. She just purred, warm and constant, like a heartbeat, like reassurance, like love.
For a long time, Virat sat there, crying softly into her fur, his breathing uneven, his body exhausted.
Luna, as always, stayed.
His little guardian. His little mother.
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Luna didn’t stop at just comforting him.
After a few moments of licking his face and rubbing against him, she suddenly jumped off his lap and dashed out of the bathroom. Virat barely had the energy to lift his head, his breathing still uneven, his arms still wrapped around himself.
Then, tiny paws came thundering back.
Luna dragged a small bottle of pills across the floor with her mouth.
Virat blinked, his mind hazy.
She dropped the bottle next to him with a soft ‘thud’ and let out an impatient meow, staring at him expectantly.
His anti-anxiety meds.
Virat exhaled shakily, picking up the bottle with trembling hands. Clonazepam.
Luna didn’t stop there. She rushed off again, disappearing into his bedroom. He heard a soft rustling noise, the sound of her jumping onto his nightstand, and then—
More tiny thumps.
Within a minute, she came back, dragging a strip of Zolpidem (his sleeping pills), a bottle of Sertraline (his antidepressant), and even a pack of electrolyte water mix.
Virat let out a choked laugh, half in disbelief, half in heartbreak.
“Luna…” His voice cracked.
She meowed loudly, slapping his arm as if scolding him.
Take. Your. Meds.
Virat wiped his face and did as he was told. His hands were still shaking as he opened the bottle and took a Clonazepam with the electrolyte mix, letting the cold water soothe his dry throat.
Luna watched him like a hawk, her tail twitching.
As soon as he was done, she climbed back onto his lap and kneaded his chest with her paws, purring so loudly it was almost aggressive.
Virat sighed, finally feeling the tension ease, his breathing slowing down.
“...What would I do without you, huh?” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
Luna simply rubbed her face against his chin, her version of a hug.
And for the first time that night, Virat felt safe.
Even if the ghosts lingered, he wasn’t alone.
Not as long as he had his little guardian.
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Virat finally made it to his bed, exhaustion pulling at his limbs. The medicine had started to work, but the heaviness in his heart still remained.
Luna walked beside him as he lay down, her tiny body pressing against his side. She purred softly, rubbing her head against his arm, silently urging him to rest.
His fingers weakly scratched behind her ears. “Stay with me, Luna,” he mumbled sleepily, his voice barely above a whisper.
Luna let out a small, affectionate meow, curling up beside him.
And just like that, he was asleep.
His breathing evened out, his body finally still.
But Luna?
Luna stayed awake.
She sat up on the bed, her golden eyes glowing in the dark, watching him.
And then, softly—so softly that only the night could hear—she spoke.
“Oh, my poor little boy…” Her voice was gentle, carrying the weight of years of silent understanding.
She licked his hand, her heart aching.
“You always try to be so strong, don’t you, Vi?” she murmured. “You think no one sees. No one notices.”
She glanced at the faint red marks on his arms, her ears twitching. Her baby boy. Her foolish, stubborn baby boy.
“I noticed,” she whispered. “I always notice.”
She stretched her tiny body, resting her paws on his chest, where his heart beat softly beneath.
“I wish you could hear me, Vi,” she sighed, her tail wrapping around herself. “I wish you knew that I’ll always be here, even when you try to hide. Even when you break.”
Her ears flicked at the sound of his slow breathing.
Luna closed her eyes, pressing her forehead against his. “One day, I’ll make sure someone else sees you too,” she promised. “Someone who will protect you like I do.”
A tiny yawn escaped her mouth, but she refused to sleep. Not yet.
Not while her boy still needed her.
So, she stayed awake, watching, guarding, and loving.
And when the night finally softened into dawn, she was still there.
As she always would be.
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In the massive Sharma mansion, under a plush mountain of blankets, Rohit and Samaira were tangled in a mess of limbs, laughter, and bedtime chaos.
“DADDY! STOP TICKLING ME!” Samaira shrieked, kicking her tiny legs as she tried to escape his grasp.
Rohit grinned, completely ignoring her plea as he continued his tickle attack.
“NEVER! The Giggle Monster needs to collect his tax!” he declared dramatically, wiggling his fingers over her belly.
Samaira howled with laughter, flailing wildly. “I’LL CALL PHOENIX!”
Rohit immediately paused, eyes darting around the room. “...You wouldn’t.”
Samaira grinned mischievously. “PHOENIX!!! HELP! DADDY IS ATTACKING ME!”
A low, warning growl rumbled from the corner of the room.
Rohit froze.
He turned his head slowly to find a massive black panther sitting by the door, golden eyes glowing in the dim light. Phoenix’s tail flicked, his gaze unreadable.
“Okay, okay! I surrender!” Rohit dramatically threw his hands up, flopping back against the pillows.
Samaira giggled victoriously, snuggling into his side.
For a while, they just lay there, the room filled with soft breathing and the warmth of home.
Then—
“Papa.”
Rohit hummed sleepily, pulling her closer. “Hmm?”
“Are you ever gonna get married again?”
Rohit snapped awake.
He blinked at the ceiling. “...What?”
Samaira lifted her head, looking at him with curious eyes. “Like… won’t you get a second wife? Or husband? Or something?”
Rohit made a face. “Why on earth are you thinking about that at bedtime?”
Samaira shrugged. “Because you’re lonely.”
Rohit choked. “Excuse me—what?!”
“You work too much.” Samaira yawned. “And you talk to Uncle Hardik all day, but you don’t have someone who cuddles you at night.”
Rohit scowled. “I cuddle you.”
Samaira gave him a deadpan look. “Papa, I’m five. I won’t always be here to cuddle you. What will you do then?”
Rohit gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. “BETRAYAL.”
Samaira rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.
“I’m serious, Papa,” she murmured, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “Don’t you want someone to love you?”
Rohit opened his mouth—then closed it.
Did he?
Love had always been… complicated. His world was loud, chaotic, and demanding. He barely had time to take care of himself, let alone fall in love.
And yet…
For some reason, his mind flickered back to that quiet, soft-eyed doctor at the grocery store.
That innocent laughter. That fragile warmth.
Rohit shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “I have you, Sam. That’s enough.”
Samaira sighed. “You’re impossible.”
Rohit grinned. “And you’re nosy.”
Samaira huffed, snuggling back into his chest. “Fine. But one day, I’ll find someone for you.”
Rohit laughed. “Oh yeah? Good luck with that.”
Samaira smirked, already scheming. “Challenge accepted.”
And with that, she dozed off, while Rohit lay awake—his heart strangely warm.
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Ok so here we go with chapter 5,
Virat and rohit's next meet will be in the hospital as you guys decided, but for some other reason.
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