After about 40 minutes of walking I sight my first refugee tent and begin to gain some hope again.

I run to the camp and immediately to look for our tent.

"Who are you?"

I hear.
______________

I turn around to the noise, a tall man, not so much taller than me, eyes me with his eyebrows raised.

"This is my refugee camp."

"Name?"

"Why would I tell you my name."

He just laughs at my reply.

Silence follows us both.

"Are you serious? What evil would another refugee do to another refugee?"

He was right.
"Fine. My name is Lillian. Lillian Hajari."

He gave me a shy smile. Everyone reacted that way when I told them my fake identity. What was so interesting about my name?

"We don't have a Lillian at camp."

That took me by surprise. What did he mean by that?

"That's impossible."

"No. There are about 8 camps in Norway at this moment." He looked amused at my mistake.

I sighed and began to leave.

"Wait... Lillian." He steps closer closing the space between us.

"Your clothes are all wet I won't let you walk around 0 degree weather in those."

He leaves me and goes to his tent bringing back a sweater.

"I am sure this will fit you because I've outgrown it," he sighs,"I just don't have a pair of pants to give you."

I nod, "I shouldn't take this from you."
"Come on. You're being hostile. It's no use for me to keep it. Plus you need it."

I nod again and accept the sweater, "Thank you."

He nods to my words and I begin to leave the camp.

I look up at the sky, clouds, huge clouds.

No North Star.

"Looking for someone up there?"

"Something." I correct him.

"Funny. I always look for someone." He gives me a weak smile. It took me a moment to realize that he was talking about a loss. I look at his eyes and they are bright, but I can see they've lost hope.

"How long?"

"About a year ago."

I was referring to the person he lost and he understood me. I didn't want to push farther into the subject.

I saw his head fall and a pained expression took upon his face, but he soon replaced it with his smile.

"What's got your face all puffy Lillian?" He asked me so sudden.

"Guess I lost someone too."

"When?"

"Today."

"Oh."

Was all I received. I sighed and decided to head for my camp.

It would be difficult and I knew That I would get lost along the way. I didn't know where I was in Norway, or how far did I walk into that sewer to lead me up here. Before I could even take three steps away from this camp, the boy stops me.

"I am Gerard by the way."

I nod and give him a smile, "Nice to meet you. Where are you coming from?"

"America."

"Then why are you a refugee?"

He sighed and looked deeply in my eyes, "Because I wanted to help someone live a better life but when I crossed the American border and entered the refugee camp to help my friend come back to America with me, my passport was taken away from me. The first thing that happened, imagine that? So I had to reapply for a new passport, but since my birth certificate and everything else showing that I was an American was left back home, I basically had no country to claim me."

"So you're telling that your 'country-less'?" I used my finger quotes.

He gave me a small laugh, "pretty much, yeah."

Silence again. I took the time in this silence to study him a bit. He looked about 2 years older than me, but his refugee life had taken a bigger toll on him than it would ever on me. He had a scar on his forehead under his hair, and I wondered where he got it from. One of his ears were shorter than the other indicating that he once had been shot there. He had bony arms but a strong torso. His eyes were shining hazel that never got dark, even if he was sad. His hair, black and short, hung loosely above his eyes.

What really caught my eye was his jacket. It was stunning. A beautiful black bomber jacket with leather collars and cuffs. A zippered pocket, detachable hood, and small patches that I am guessing were his touch.

He caught my eyes admiring his jacket, and I quickly looked away.

"Why did you look away?"

"Because it wasn't right to look at you for this long anyway."

"You were just admiring my jacket, that's all. I don't mind it. I get people looking at it a lot." He chuckled at that.

He seemed reasonable and nice. I had so many questions to ask him but I knew I had to get going back to my camp.

My parents would be worried about me, and most importantly, I had to find Hector.

I promised myself in the sewers to find him and save him again, I just didn't know where to look.

"Well, Gerard, I am going to start to look for my camp." I finally decide to actually leave.

"Any idea where to look?"

"No. My companion in the sky always helped me but it's hiding tonight."

He smiled at my comment, "Do you maybe want to stay here the night? My tent is pretty big and I haven't shared it with anyone else since...- well my point is,  it's pretty clean and roomy. I got an extra sleeping bag you could claim your own for the night."

I didn't know whether to agree or not but I really did not want to sleep on the streets of Norway. Then again, in a sense, I was sleeping in the streets of Norway.

"Thank you again Gerard, but I am not sure if I should."

"Oh come on Lillian. It's practically midnight, surely you'll be lost, or even worse attacked. I can't let that happen. Not to someone who is like me."

Thinking this over for a moment, his words were reasonable enough. I finally gave in and decided to stay.

"Thank you Gerard I don't know how to repay you."

"You don't need to. Your company is payment enough. You know, I am really lonely around here, so it's nice to see a fresh face I can talk to." He straightened his back and started again, "You can change your clothes in the tent if you want I won't come in there."

I nodded and started to head into his tent. I wondered who Gerard's friend was that he needed to help them. It's a lot to think about. He lived in America, a place where everyone wanted to live and learn in, and he gave up all of that out of pure love to help someone. He seems like he's seen a lot more than me. Been through a lot more than me. And has been broken several more times than me. Yet, he's so bright.

I changed into his old sweater, he was right, it did fit me. I wonder how long he's been a refugee for him to have kept this and outgrown it.

My mind was only on three topics at the moment, saving Hector, finding camp, and helping Gerard.

He needed help, no doubt about it. He was sad and broken but he tried to deceive everyone with his hazel eyes always seeming bright.

I crawled out of his tent and saw him holding a necklace in his hand. It had a watch attached to it, but it wasn't a pocket watch.

"Thank you Gerard it fits nicely."

He puts the watch in his interior jacket pocket, and looks up at me.

His eyes brightened and I smiled. I didn't know what the case was with his eyes, but they always stayed bright.

My eyes are green, but the amount of times I've cried and seen so many horrid things, has darkened them. Well that was my theory anyways.

"Why were your clothes wet, however?" He asked standing up from sitting on an empty trash can.

I sighed. My vision started to cloud with images of Hector and his handsome little smile of his. My vision showed the first time I heard his cry for help, and the last time I saw the plead for help in his eyes.

I shook my head lightly motioning to Gerard I didn't want to talk about it, in a silent way.

He understood and pulled another trash can next to where he was sitting.

He patted it and I sat down next to him.

He took my wet long sleeve from me and hung it on a fence letting it dry.

"That shirts been through some rough things."

I laughed, and handed him my jacket that looked way worse.

"Wow okay. The jacket wins." He took the jacket and also hung it up, "Nice material though."

"I know. I picked it up in Canada. It got destroyed, sadly."

I was right. There were holes in the jacket, the hood ripped up, one sleeve didn't have a cuff anymore. It was a lost cause.

"It's a lost cause." I say my thoughts out loud.

"What if I fix it for you?"

"Debatable."

He smirked at my response, "Wanna hear something crazy?"

"What?"

"I made this jacket." He pointed to his jacket and my eyes widened.

There was no way. But maybe there was. Was it really true? But how?

"You're joking."

"Here." He took off his jacket and showed me the inside. He had his name stitched into it.

'Gerard Arthur Way 09'

"Believe me yet?"

"Maybe."
He laughed at my response.
"Yes I made the whole jacket not just the patches." He said.

"But how?"

"I just stole fabric and started stitching."

"How long did it take you? My goodness."

"It took me a year."

"You had time on your hands." He laughed again and it was nice to hear it.

For a while it was silent. Just the sound of the leaves blowing, some cars, and the shops closing up trying to sell their last bit of products as best as they could at this hour.

I looked at Gerard from the corner of my eye. He was looking at the sky.

The clouds where rolling away but more of them followed. It was January so it was cold and chilly during night hours. Who am I kidding, it was cold during every hour.

Gerard's sweater kept me warm as I looked up at the sky with him.

"Isn't it crazy?" He began.

"Depends on what you're referring to." I replied. Thinking it was the only reasonable thing to say.

"Isn't it crazy how everything can change in a matter of seconds. Either for the better or the worse and you can't do anything to stop it. Even if you tried." He repeated back to me my thoughts that I had in the sewer.

"It's crazy how many time it can happen, is what I like to think about."

He took away his gaze from the sky and looked at me.

I made eye contact with him, and in that moment we both realized we understood each other's pains. Not just because we were both refugees, but because we both had lost someone along the way, and in a sense, finding each other right now, filled the empty gap we both felt about that someone.

We were both lonely and in loss. Depressed and hurt. Our hearts shattered to pieces that not even the worlds strongest super glue could put back together.

The glue we needed, in a sense, was each other.

It wasn't an emotional glue we felt towards each other, or if it was, it wouldn't build up for quite a long time. It was a companion glue. That glue put our hearts back to its original shape.

Surely there were parts missing from his heart, and parts missing from mine, but maybe, just maybe, we would find those missing pieces and glue them together.