No Use Crying

Rhys sat, right in the exact chair he'd been directed to sit in when he'd been left in the room. Someone was supposed to come for him. But who? He had no one. They were all dea-

The boy began to picking frantically at a cuticle, not noticing, or perhaps not caring when the finger began to bleed. He was still in his dress clothes, tie neatly knotted, pants and jacket neatly pressed.

Rhys was bleeding on those neatly pressed pants, now, staining the pale grey fabric. Still, he picked, tears tracking silently down his face. Rhys Edmunds didn't make a single sound; he hadn't made a sound since they had found him, in that house in the Russian countryside, surrounded by his murdered family. His aunt, uncle, cousin...

He had no one, no one, at all - they were all dead, now. Still, he remained in silence, picking the flesh from the end of his finger as it bled.

They were gone.

"WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?!" Lena yelled, entering the Ministry Atrium, her anger radiating throughout the room. She had been told of what had happened, and she wanted to find him. "What is this about the Zlobin case?" She slammed her hands on the receptionist's desk. "Where is Rhys Edmunds, and where can I see him?"

"S-Second f-floor," the receptionist replied, though she did so in a rather timid fashion, "b-but a-are you not a Ministry - "

"My father was Johann Vorstenbach, one of the Ministry's best ever Hit Wizards!" snarled the Uchitel, her temper leading her along without stopping. "Don't you dare yell at me unless you want to get your knickers in a twist!" The receptionist nodded, and lead Lena to the platform where she can find the Second Floor.

In a frantic rush, Lena ran up the second floor, her eyes widening, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. What did they do to him? Was he alright?

Upon seeing him in the horizon, the blonde practically squealed and ran towards the redhead, her arms wide open for embrace. "Rhys! Holy crap, are you alright?" she cried. She flung her arms around him as she sat down, and as if it was possible, her eyes widened as she stared at his bleeding finger.

"What did you do to yourself?" she whispered, pressing her lips on his cheek.

Rhys hadn't even registered the arrival of another until their arms were around him. He instinctively tensed, waiting for... for something. It didn't come and Rhys relaxed a fraction.

The redhead looked down at his finger, only just noticing that it was bleeding, the skin picked away from the nail. He shrugged a shoulder in answer to the query, pulling his gaze slowly up to look at the person who had just kissed his cheek.

Lena.

Rhys drew in a deep breath which came shuddering back out. He made no other sound. Laying his head on her shoulder, the boy pressed his face against the side of her neck, turning towards her and wrapping an arm about her waist, clearly seeking comfort. He closed his eyes, drawing in one breath after the other.

She'd come. Right when he needed her, she'd come. His breathing hitched a bit and he shifted closer.

When Rhys didn't respond to her constant hugging and crying and screaming, Lena wondered for a moment if he had been tortured to let go of her. Her breath was on hold, her brain not even thinking of exhaling. Please... please... god-effing-dammit, do something... just to let me know you're alright.

Lena felt Rhys shrug his shoulders. Her heart skipped a beat with short-lived relief. That was a shrug, she thought, no exhaling.

The Uchitel felt his head digging into her neck, and due to instinct rested her head on top of his. She pushed herself close to him, watching his eyes close. For the first time in the last couple of seconds, he looked peaceful. She could finally exhale, and made a bit of a show doing so. She must stay calm. Stay calm...

"Are you okay, sweetie?" she whispered, running her fingers through his fiery-coloured hair, "did they do anything to you? If I had known... I would have come sooner. B-But I heard Father mention an attack and Ana Zlobin being dead and 'isn't that such a pity?' this morning and I had to come here..." She gripped him like a vice. "Why didn't you owl me?"

She shook her head. "D-Don't answer that; I know you probably don't want to talk about it."

Rhys curled closer to her. Tears seeped slowly from beneath his closed eyelids. His breathing stuttered before coming out in a forceful exhale at the mention of his cousin's name. A long moment passed before he resumed breathing again, needily nuzzling her shoulder without a sound.

The boy made no further response.

An auror entered the room, pausing in the doorway before quietly addressing the girl. "I'm guessing that you know him?" she said. "We'd been trying to find someone who knew him since last night. I mean, we know who he is, but... we didn't know if there was anyone that ought to be contacted. He hasn't been very communicative - not that anyone blames him after what we believe he saw."

Lena made no further response at Rhys's lack of response - though she really couldn't blame him - though she continued to stare at him. So lost... so broken... she wanted to cry in his place. Tears began to roll down her cheek as she gently stroked her back.

Her eyes stared at the Auror and her sadness, for whatever reason, turned into malignant anger.

"I'm sitting here comforting him in the middle of the day," deadpanned the Uchitel, "after I had to perform mad dash from Germany to this building in the span of half a day, and you think I don't know him?" The blonde took deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself down. "I-I'm s-sorry... it's just that... look, he's the love of my life, and I don't like to see him broken." Her eyes hardened immediately. "What did he saw? I'm the daughter of Johann Vorstenbach, and I demand to know what happened in the Zlobin household."

The auror stood calmly as the girl vented at her. At the query, the woman's gaze went to the boy before returning to the girl.

"You didn't read the article in the Russian Prophet this morning?" It wasn't really a question - it was obvious that the girl hadn't. The woman picked up a copy that someone had left on the table, either by accident or through insensitivity, and extended it to the girl.

"He was in the house. We believe his cousin hid him in the hall closet... right outside the room." She said nothing more, noting the way the boy seemed to have pressed closer to the girl when she started speaking at all.

Rhys had leaned closer to Lena, one hand tangling into the fabric of her shirt. Still he made no sound. His eyes remained closed.



NOTE: Since I'm too lazy to write said article, basically, the Zlobins were killed. Ana was part of private Alchemy group, working on perfecting the art. The bad guys had been tracked and were captures (obviously too late for the Zlobins). Rhys is the only survivor... blah, blah...

Snatching the paper from the Auror, Lena ignored her every word and started to read. As the details slowly came together, the multinational Uchitel didn't gasp, because to her no humanly reaction was enough to truly fathom the horror her mind had now begun to ponder.

Seconds later, she looked up at the Auror in front of her, seemingly calm.

"W-What is this treachery?" snarled the blonde, bright eyes turning hard in a snap of her fingers, "you know of this event, and are you sure you are investigating it right? Have you ever thought that this attack could be pre-meditated, or perhaps checked the crime scene for DNA or stray hairs from the possible murderers? Muggle ways, I know, but sometimes they can be the most effective."

She then stared at Rhys and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek once more. "And you haven't even thought about treating the sole witness right?" she yelled, her screams reverberating across the corridor, "look at him! He's too scared to even speak to me!" She buried her face in Rhys's neck, weeping.

"I would thank you not to question our capabilities," the auror said sternly, but not unkindly. "As stated in the paper, the culprits have been detained. It was, premeditated. We had tried to detain them... before, but most unfortunately, we were too late in tracking their movements.

She waited patiently as the girl screamed at her, allowing her vent her own grief a bit on behalf of the boy. "We have done everything possible for Mr. Edmunds since he was found at Zlobin Manor," she said, tone soft. "All efforts to soothe or comfort him, have proven ineffective. He hasn't spoken to anyway, miss, hasn't even made a sound. In fact, you're the first person he's responded to with more than a shrug since last night. He's in shock; not unwarranted for trauma such as he has suffered."

Rhys had laid his cheek atop Lena's head as she wept, one hand almost absently stroking her hair. His gaze remained diverted from the auror, as though he didn't know she was there. In truth, he was trying desperately not to hear her speak at all; hear either of them speak. He just wanted to forget everything.

"Thank God you did something right!" Lena growled, ignoring the Auror's words on questioning the Ministry's capabilities. It wasn't meant to hurt, but she was mad, and often when people are filled with anger chances are they'll say things that they will regret. Her eyes merely softened when she looked back at her klutzy ginger, still weeping, "B-But he's s-safe, right? For now, a-at least?"

Her blotched eyes first stared at her precious mop of ginger hair, then back at the Auror, and as much as she didn't want to for the first time in the conversation she was tranquil, yet her mind was still tense. She firmly nodded. "I would expect him to respond to the mere sight of me," she spat, half-strained, the other half out of pride. She turned back towards Rhys, contemplating.

Instead of adding to such a short reply like she usually would, her head stayed still and she tried to hold his gaze. "I wish I knew a lullaby," she whispered, though in actual fact, she knew loads of lullabies; she just couldn't be bothered to remember them at that moment, "then I could sing one to you to help you sleep. So you could be calm." His warm cheek was on her head, and she tilted her gaze up at him. "If only Enya had taught me on how to make a temporary Sleepseal."

"He's safe," the auror assured. What little good that does, now, she added silently. The woman quietly withdrew, leaving the girl to comfort the boy as she could.

Rhys slowly turned his gaze to meet Lena's, blue eyes too bright from the aftermath of the terror he had seen and the horror-stricken grief which gripped him. The boy raised a hand to her cheek with the same listless speed as all his other motions. He didn't know that he could ever feel calm or be able to sleep again. He could still hear their agonized screams, see their broken bodies and their blood staining the rug...

Rhys wasn't sure he would never get past that. All he knew was that Lena's presence somehow made things less awful, even if it was just a little bit. Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead against hers. Never had he needed her so much.

The words echoed in Lena's head. He's safe, he's safe. She mentally scoffed, because if someone as innocent as Rhys got hurt then no one was safe from anything. Next thing she knew, Patricia was dead, Anya was getting married to someone she hated and Timo was staying back a year.

Rhys's gaze terrified Lena too much. They spoke too much about death and the horrors of being attacked, things that the blonde knew too much about. She felt like bursting into tears because it felt wrong. It was wrong for someone as beautiful as Rhys to be afflicted by something this life-changing. She wanted Enya's voice to come in right about now.

Stay strong, Liebechen. Stay strong.

Thank you, Enya, sent Lena, and she began to take deep breaths, trying to relax her body. His forehead was on hers, and her fingers lifted and caressed Rhys's warm cheek, her eyes staring down at his shirt. She looked back up at him, and sang, though very quietly, "Never forget, what I did, what I said, when I gave you all my heart and soul. Morning become, and I know we'll be one, and I still believe you'll remember me."

She whispered, "You'll remember me, won't you? I don't want you to forget me."

Rhys listened as Lena sang, to all appearances, impassive. She had a pretty voice; everything about her was pretty. He wanted to tell her that, though, he had done so before. He wanted to tell her how very beautiful she was and how much her presence meant to him. That just having her there made him feel the tiniest bit... not better, but less awful.

The words would not rise to his mouth, however, so Rhys leaned just a bit a closer. Of course not, he wanted to assure her. Never.

Hopefully, actions did speak louder than words.

Rhys wouldn't speak, and that only terrified Lena more than it was healthy. He did lean closer, that was something, but he couldn't speak. There was never silence between them when they were together, and even if there was there were words unspoken. Yet in this one, she heard and felt nothing. (She never did consider the possibility that she was a little too narrow-minded to listen to him properly.)

What if he...

No, he couldn't be. Her precious ginger didn't lose his ability of speech. That was impossible. He couldn't have. And there was so much he didn't say yet! He'd never hear him say 'I love you', or hear his laugh, or hear his velvety voice ask her to marry him...

Of course she'd say yes.

"At least you'll remember me," she whispered, "I'll never forget you too, if that helps." She buried her head in his chest. "Urgh. Why am I so stupid? why didn't I put a tracking device on you? Why don't I read a paper? Why am I such a bad girlfriend? Why am I not crying?" She the burst into tears, "Well, that one's settled."

Rhys had no response. He should have had one, shouldn't he? But he didn't; everything was numb. One thing he know, he didn't like it when Lena cried.

Resting his cheek atop Lena's head, Rhys held her tighter. If it were possible, he would have never let her go.