Spilled Milk

Rhys wasn't sure how he had gotten here. Someone had brought him, someone from the place they had finally sent him after... after... that.

He had wandered away from the person at some point, or perhaps they had wandered away from him. Rhys wasn't certain. The boy wasn't really paying much attention to anything.

The redhead played absently with the bandage wrapped around his left index finger as he wound numbly through the streets. Why was he here? He didn't want to be here. There were so many people, continuing their lives as though the world hadn't been turned on its side.

Two people collided up ahead, one of them dropping her groceries. A bottle of milk broke against the flagstones, leaving a useless puddle of white on the ground. Spilled milk. Useless, just like everything else.

Lora sighed to herself as she walked around the streets of Azorat. Things had been hectic to say the least, and she just didn't know what to do anymore. Of course, the best thing she felt glad about right now was that Dyl finally got his memories back. But things weren't going so well with her mother and the nightmares just seemed to keep increasing.

She merely glanced at the shops and all the chattering people, wishing she could do the same, even if it was with a stranger. After all, sometimes strangers would help one forget about the familiarity of things and go ahead with something new.

After what felt like hours of aimless walking, she spotted a redhead figure. She smiled lightly when she saw that it was Rhys but the smile faded as she walked closer to him. He seemed desolate and numb, just staring at the scene in front of him with no expression.

"Hello," she finally said in a soft voice, looking at him worriedly.

That puddle was making Rhys feel impossibly more hopeless. Was that even possible? Rhys was quite certain, in the part of his mind that actually took note of anything, anymore, that a person couldn't possibly be more depressed than he was already.

His mind was just getting totally consumed by this train of thought, when a voice broke through his musing. Rhys blinked once, then, again, slowly dragging his gaze away from the spilled milk to gaze at the person addressing him.

It was... his mind labored under layers of numbness to pull up the proper name... Alora. She was one of Lena's friends. His eyes flicked to the area behind the girl. No, Lena.

Rhys looked back at Alora, and then his gaze fell to his hands, where he fiddled with the bandage on his finger, once more.

Lora frowned at Rhys's lack of speech and wondered what was wrong. She instantly felt bad for neglecting her friends nearly the whole year. She couldn't remember the last time she spoke to Rhys, Lena or Anya about what was going on; just herself trying to finish the year as quickly as possible.

Following his gaze, she noticed his bandaged finger and gently touched it in a soothing manner, as though asking what happened? For a moment, she wished that Lena was here, sure that the Uchitel would be able to help him out. But it was just them both here, and she would try her best to figure it out.

She didn't know what to do if he wasn't going to communicate, and hoped he was say a few words at least. Not really expecting an answer, yet she couldn't help but ask, "What happened?"

Rhys' hands stilled as Alora touched his injured finger. He'd picked at it, picked until the skin had been pulled back from the nail. It had been healed the first time, and the second. The bandage was opted for, instead, after the third time. The barrier worked better at preventing further injury to the digit.

He sucked in a sharp breath at her query, the air leaving his lungs again in a harsh exhale. She didn't know. Merlin, how was he to-

Rhys' gaze went to a nearby newsstand, resting there only momentarily before darting away, again. The boy opened his mouth as though to answer, only to close it without a word. He shook his head, shrugging one shoulder as his gaze resettled dully past her right ear.

"You shouldn't do that, it will make it worse," Lora whispered, keeping his hand away from causing more pain and continuing to rub his finger gently, though there was a bandaid. But at least he wouldn't keep picking at it.

Her face once more showed worry at his sudden inhalation and she quickly looked behind her in case he had seen something. Convinced that there was nothing or no one behind her, she turned to him once more, only to find that his gaze was directed elsewhere.

She waited for the Hrabrost to answer, to say anything at all, but no word would come out. She noticed him staring at the newspaper stand and left him for a few seconds to collect the paper. As she was walking back to him, she quickly scanned the front page and dropped the paper in shock at what she saw.

Rhys's family was murdered.

Ignoring the fallen paper, she quickly hugged her friend tightly, feeling tears in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, not having any other right words to say.

Rhys remained still as Alora walked away from him, towards the newsstand. He hadn't looked at it, himself, but he knew such news would probably still be considered big - big enough to be on the first or second page. Part of him wanted to run, to escape, but part of him was rooted to the spot.

The boy's eyes fell shut as she hugged him, neither reciprocating nor refusing the contact. In fact, the contact was welcome, Rhys just didn't know how to reciprocate, anymore, so he just stood there, breathing in and out shakily without any other sound. He felt so... numb.

He is traumatized, Lora realized, the shock reminding her of the time her sister was killed in front of her. But this was different; this was his whole family. Being the one who hates to see her friends depressed, she wished she could take away the pain and make him forget.

She hugged Rhys once more, before letting go slowly and wiping away her tears. She began to feel scared at his uneven breathing, but at the same time didn't want to grab any attention.

"Y-you're going to b-be fine, okay?" She whispered hesitantly, the fear evident in her voice, for his current state of mind. She rubbed his hand soothingly, wanting to give the boy some sort of comfort, just to show him that he wasn't alone.

"Good Gods, why is this happening?" She murmured to herself, feeling genuinely confused and upset.

Rhys slowly opened his eyes, overly bright blue gaze settling on the girl. He drew in a long, deep breath and let it out again, breathing returning to a more even pattern.

He pressed his lips together, the only really acknowledgment that he gave of her words. It got his message across: he wasn't so convinced that she was right. Another one-shouldered shrug was his answer to Alora's rhetorical question. He'd asked himself the very same thing.