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 Posted: Sat Mar 12, 2016 6:38 pm
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Posted: Sun Mar 13, 2016 9:16 am
QUEST
Darkness…
Darkness?
…Darkness.
Ethiriel waited, her eyes blinking lazily in what felt like the morning light. She had managed a decent night’s sleep, feeling rested and ready for the day, but all that she could see was the dark. Was it still night? There were birds chirping contently outside of the house and it felt too warm. Blinking, it took a moment to register with the Frei before her chest tightened uncomfortably.
No…
Bolting up from her bed, Ethiriel shakily held her hands before her and searched futilely. No matter how close she brought them to her face, she couldn’t see a single thing. This was nothing like her blindness before – everything was gone.
Except silver, she noticed.
The Frei began breathing hard, her heart pounding wildly in her chest as she soaked in what was happening. Anxiety took over as she hyperventilated, pulling her arms in to hug her chest as a cry ripped from her throat.
”Henry… HENRY…!” she cried, once again trying to catch any small glimpse of her hand.
There was a loud rumble in the other room; the sound of Henry hitting his knees against his desk as he quickly shot up from his chair, followed by the sound of socked feet tearing through the hallway. The nurse fumbled with the door, his fear making it difficult to be precise or careful as he burst into the room. A second set of footsteps followed from the opposite end of the hall.
He saw Ethiriel holding herself tightly and ran to her side. With tears pooling from her eyes, Ethiriel, trembling, reached out for him. Gabe stopped at the doorway with a hand on the frame.
”I can’t see!” Ethiriel said, her voice shaky. She held tightly to the sleeves of Henry’s shirt, pulling herself closer. ”I can’t see…”
It was rare for the Frei to initiate such close embraces, even with him, and Henry immediately understood. He gently ran his hand over her hair and neck, rocking her back and forth as he cradled her. Sitting on the bed, Henry attempted to shush and calm her as he looked to Gabe with pleading eyes – what he was asking for, not even he knew.
The younger brother's shoulders were slack as his arm dropped to his side. Words failed either of the Knights in that moment; Gabe could only survey helplessly until his breath caught up with him.
”Call her doctor,” he said, finally crossing the threshold of her room. Normally there might have been some bite about Henry being a nurse, he should know this, chop chop, but this was far from the time for sarcasm or casual insults.
The doctor, that’s right. Keeping from jostling Ethiriel as much as he could, Henry dug his cell out of his pocket and immediately dialed in the number for the hospital, not even bothering to go through the list of numbers and waste time. The Frei clung tighter, now breathing rough and jagged in her state of panic Henry closed his eyes tight as he held her close, listening to the dial tone as he continued to rock her back and forth. It wasn’t long before a menu was given, which the nurse navigated with familiarity, before he was finally connected to another human.
Despite his nervousness, his voice was calm and even.
While he was connected to Dr. Ong, Ethiriel finally managed to even her breathing – even if she was still crying, she was able to calm herself just enough while her guardian was on the phone. Finally, she pulled her hands away from Henry’s sleeves and instead covered her face while Henry cradled her protectively.
Henry wasn’t wearing any silver.
In a way, in the strangest way, this was a comfort to her. Why did she wish for this so bad after New Years? She had worked so hard to be able to see, gone through so much, and one single, negative emotion had planted doubt in her view of vision, and now… now it was gone. This was all her fault; she jinxed herself and now she couldn’t’ see. Hell, her vision had become worse, even. Another set of sobs ripped through her chest as she buried her face into Henry’s – to which he began stroking her hair again.
It was almost as if, if she had to not be able to see… she didn’t want to see anything.
”Okay,” Henry said into the phone after a small conversation – Ethiriel hadn’t noticed him speaking, having been too busy with her rushing thoughts and cries. ”We’ll be here.”
Everything seemed muffled and muted as the Frei had her mental break, her eyes shut tight as she was held to Henry closely. For a brief moment she thought about her conduct, but Gabe’s words rung through and she didn’t care. She didn’t need to be ladylike. She didn’t have to sit there being prim and proper while the world she tried to put together fell apart. This was awful and it hurt her heart deeply as she cried into the muscular man’s chest.
There was something nice about embraces that she had never noticed before.
However, she couldn’t enjoy it in the slightest. She couldn’t deal with this at all; they had worked so hard to put her together, and here she was – a huge, sightless mess.
By the time Ethiriel had calmed down, Henry motioned for Gabe to go greet Dr. Ong at the sound of their doorbell. Cradled like a child, Ethiriel had become unresponsive, as if she had tuned everything out.
He had taken to sitting on the floor in the meantime, back against the wall, but when the doorbell rang Gabe was already rising before Henry made the motion. Quick footsteps faded down the hall to the front door and an exchange of words too faint for her to hear before the two were on their way back to the room. Once more, Gabe lingered at the entrance of Ethiriel's room while the doctor entered – he held Nedhudir's lead to keep the collie out as well and, when the doctor set to work, he disappeared down the hall entirely.
Just a small glint of silver and then nothing.
”Ethiriel?” Dr. Ong said softly, approaching the limp Raevan in Henry’s arms.
No response save for a small flicker of Ethiriel’s eyes.
”Ethiriel, it’s me – Dr. Ong. Your vision is gone?” he asked, just as gently as before.
Still, no response.
With a sigh, the doctor knelt down before the two and hovered his hand just over Ethiriel’s face. ”I’m going to take a look, so I have to touch your face. Is that okay?”
Again, no response.
Touching down lightly, Dr. Ong took out a flashlight and held it to the Frei’s eyes – the cataracts had formed again, fogging over Ethiriel’s green eyes. He let out a thoughtful noise, pulling away and standing up again.
”Unfortunately, well… from what I understand about the things you’ve told me about Raevans, this is magic related. Our methods can’t fix it, apparently.” He rubbed his eyes and looked down at Henry, his expression apologetic since he couldn’t offer it for Ethiriel. ”We can try again, but there’s the chance that it’ll just go back like it did this time.”
”Was just about to ask,” Henry said, his voice soft like the doctor’s.
Ethiriel’s brows furrowed as she stared blankly ahead, tears streaming down her cheeks despite the rest of her appearing indifferent.
Maneuvering Ethiriel so that she could rest on her bed (which she offered no fuss or fight over, instead limply lying once she was placed), Henry stood and scratched the back of his head. ”So this is it, then?”
”Afraid so.”
”Well… thank you for the effort, doctor. I guess I’ll see you on my next shift.”
There were short goodbyes between the two of them. Henry led the doctor to the door and saw him out, but once the door was shut he came back into Ethiriel’s room and stood at the open door. Ethiriel hadn’t moved from the way she was placed as she cried in silence. The nurse let out a short, shallow breath before walking in.
”It’s going to be okay,” he said, taking a tentative seat at the end of the Frei’s bed.
”These are just words, Henry,” Ethiriel finally said, her tone flat. She moved her hands up to her face to look again, but once she had accepted that she couldn’t see them, she covered her face instead. ”Words are useless. This is useless. Why did I even bother?” she asked rhetorically.
”Ethiriel—“
”Please leave…”
Henry continued to sit in exasperation, watching her carefully as she demanded he leave. She had called out for him initially, but now… it was like when he picked her up for the first time; indifferent and wanting to be alone. He stood and hovered for just a second before wordlessly leaving the room.
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Posted: Mon Mar 14, 2016 8:56 am
QUEST
His cigarette was only half finished by the time the doctor's car started up.
Gabe sat in one of the lawn chairs closest to the back door, smoke rising slowly through the winter chill. It was nowhere near as cold as Barton here, never would be, but an overcast day in the middle of the season with the ocean not far behind made it cold enough for a jacket, at least. Nedudhir didn't have to worry, long haired as he was, but the collie paced the yard close to the back door. He was well behaved, not crying or scratching, but the dog's concern was evident nonetheless.
He craned his neck to peek uselessly over the top of the white picket fence but there was no seeing the doctor's departure from his vantage. In his lap was a small dish, the bottom ring covered with ash. Gabe's hand hovered close with the cigarette to catch any falling cinders; with a flick of his thumb to the end, more sprinkled down just as the back door opened.
Only after a few minutes did Henry emerge, fairly dejected. He eyed Gabe’s cigarette but didn’t bring it up, sitting across from his younger brother and practically melted into the chair – a hand covered his eyes as he let out a big huff.
”Had I known this would happen…” he started, though he was quick to shut his mouth. He didn’t know much about Gabe’s opinion on the matter and certainly didn’t want to start anything. However, the idea of knowing this would happen, he would have refused the treatment to begin with. Now they were dealing with Ethiriel being depressed again, and from the sounds of it, far worse than before, it almost felt.
Swiping his hand down his face, lightly pulling at his bottom eyelids, Henry cast a glance toward Gabe.
Gabe watched the end of his cigarette burn between his fingers, rather than return his brother's gaze. He stayed quiet for several moments after Henry, and after staying still for the lot of it he finally raised his hand to take another drag.
”So that's it?”
”There’s nothing we can do, now. We just gotta encourage her at this point. Need to bring her back from this funk.”
”No,” Gabe stamped out what was left of the cigarette into the dish and blew the remaining smoke away from Henry, ”you need to give her space.”
Henry pouted, giving Gabe a hurt look. ”Well…” he started, unable to think of a counterpoint. He let out a huff of breath, slumping back into his chair and leaning back. ”I just… I can’t let her sit there and be depressed again.”
With a huff in return, Gabe leaned forward to set the dish onto the nearby lawn table. ”Let me tell you from experience. The last thing she wants to hear right now is everything's gonna be okay.” He leaned back and propped one leg over his knee, head turned to watch Nedhudir rather than look at his brother. ”If she needs to be sad, just let her be sad.”
After a moment of hesitation, Henry nodded. Ethiriel basically said the same thing, herself. He let out a sound of defeat and nodded more firmly. ”I’ll do what I can in the background this time.”
Gabe nodded as well before finally turning to Henry. There wasn't the usual air of annoyance he touted at the nurse constantly, not the familiar crease of his brow – his face was calm and his eyes were tired.
”Which means, what?”
”Admittedly, I don’t know,” Henry stated plainly, tilting his head to the side slightly. ”I’d call friends and those who could comfort her, but you say we need to give her space. The only thing I can think of is just that.”
He then ran his hand back over his mouth and sighed. ”What would you suggest?”
Gabe scoffed, hand moving to his pocket as though to retrieve something, ”Don't ask me, like I have any bedside manner.” He paused, then drew his empty hand back; he sighed, leveling off his sarcasm. ”Just give her a few days. Don't spring s**t on her, like inviting her damn friends.”
”Right…” Henry replied, nodding his head. ”Even if she doesn’t feel like eating I can at least make sure she has food and water available. Otherwise, I’ll just back off.”
The younger Knight nodded, taking in a shallow breath. ”You can't help everyone by treating them like a sick kid.”
Henry frowned, ”It helped you once…” In hindsight, it was a poor choice in statements, but he gave his brother a hurt look to accompany his injured tone.
Gabe looked back, blue eyes meeting green. ”No, it didn't.” He stood up and collected the dish with one hand and snapped his fingers with the other to call the collie over. The door closed with little sound behind them.
Staring dumbly, Henry watched the door for several seconds before rubbing his eyes. What did he keep getting himself into? Gabe was unhappy with him again and Ethiriel didn’t want to see him… He sighed, sinking further into his chair.
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Posted: Tue Mar 15, 2016 8:38 am
QUEST
It had been a few days since Ethiriel left the room – having fallen into a deep depression, the Frei had barely fed herself or hydrated, never even bothering to leave the bed. The only time, however, was to rip down and hide the silver chain that marked her door. If she couldn’t see, she didn’t want to see anything at all in her fit of rage.
Even in bed, she had barely even changed positions over the last day or two, feeding only on the light from the window.
Full of worry, Henry had requested off for several days to help take care of Ethiriel while she was down. It was both silently appreciated and despised as she wanted to just be left alone entirely.
Henry would come in periodically to check on her, but was met with silence each time. He would bring her food or water, all of which was declined, but it didn’t stop him from trying. Nedhudir was brought in and out at various intervals as well; the nurse hoped that maybe the Collie’s companionship would be welcomed, but even then the Frei never moved from her spot. Gabe's presence was minimal; he didn't at all present himself more than Henry but the younger brother would, on scarce occasion, fill the same role.
She refused to listen to books or music, staring blankly across the room, stewing in her own thoughts that varied from bad to worse as she sunk into a spiral of self-loathing. Why had she mused this? Did she bring it on herself? She couldn’t handle seeing the person she wanted be happy with someone else… was this her punishment? She felt like such a fool and now she was paying for it. This was all her fault.
The house was especially quiet.
As per their talk a few days ago, Henry didn't try to initiate conversation with Ethiriel – and neither did Gabe. However, between the two, the younger brother wondered if it might be preferable for him to try before the nurse in this situation. Henry was right about one thing at least; she couldn't wallow like this forever.
Gabe knocked, just to alert her. The routine now was to come in even if she didn't respond; after all, she wouldn't. He stepped inside with a fresh cup of hot water and a tarnished spoon which were set atop her bedside table next to the previous attempt which was left untouched as far as he could tell.
”Hey,” he said quietly while collecting the other dish.
Ethiriel’s attention was grabbed this time by the ring around Gabe’s neck – it had been Henry who came in usually, and he hadn’t worn any jewelry in quite a while. The Frei’s eyes narrowed, staring for a moment before looking back toward the far wall – or what she thought was the far wall.
”Take that thing off,” she demanded, though her voice carried no intent to enforce; it was light and wispy as she hadn’t spoken since telling Henry to leave a few days prior.
He paused after straightening up, which only made the ring easier to see. Gabe glanced about the room, particularly at where Ethiriel's own silver marker used to be – left out of habit, just like his ring, but gone now. This wasn't the first time it was noticed but it was the first time the reason clicked.
”That's what you're doing now,” said Gabe rhetorically as he assessed the situation, ”heading into the opposite extreme.”
Ethiriel didn’t respond other than a very soft huff of breath and a subtle shift in position. Quietly, she dug her face further into the pillow, looking downward so she couldn’t see the ring.
He watched her hide and stayed quiet as she did so, for several moments after yet as though to test the waters. ”You can't avoid silver forever, you know,” Gabe's voice was even and low – it carried no hint of warning or irritation, only a simple truth.
”It’s not fair,” she stated simply, her voice even.
”Life's not fair.”
The Frei huffed louder this time, quickly pushing herself up off of her bed while her ribbon rested lazily over her sheets. Her eyes immediately met the silver ring, and so her gaze remained. ”That doesn’t help,” she said, her brows knit tightly over her nose.
First thing she did in days and it was glare at a ring. Gabe stayed where he stood, hands full and silver ring on display. ”So, what would?”
”I- I don’t know,” she sighed roughly, slinking back onto the bed and resting her head against her arm. She had finally noticed the silver in his hand, while obscured, and she chose to ignore it for now, just as she had with the last attempts at feeding.
As she lay back down, his stance relaxed. ”Use the water, at least,” Gabe leaned back to the end table and removed the spoon he brought in. It clinked loudly with its twin in his hand, away from her.
”I don’t want it,” she said outright. With the spoons both in one hand, she couldn’t see as he set the mug down. For a moment she stared at the silverware in his hands before closing her eyes softly again, now refusing to look.
Gabe scoffed and shook his head; he spoke quietly, more to himself than Ethiriel, but that sarcasm was easy to hear. ”And we're back to this.”
Clutching the pillow tightly, Ethiriel let out a scoff of her own. ”What do you want from me, Gabe?”
'Nothing, if you want to keep being a brat,” he quipped, nonchalant as he turned on his heel and took the silver away from her sight; he moved toward the door.
”And you’re not?” she retorted, pushing herself off the bed again. ”Maybe I don’t want to eat? Maybe I don’t know what to do with myself? Can’t I wallow in self-pity while dealing with being upset? You always shut yourself in your room because you don’t want to see Henry or anyone.”
She stared in the direction she last saw the silver in, her eyes wild and pale.
His advice from after the party was working – in an unprecedented way. Gabe stopped and turned back enough for a small glint of the ring's side to be visible. Any of the softness he offered before was gone.
”If you think I'm not the first one vouching for that here, you're wrong. I'm not asking you to come out of your room or do a bunch of bullshit that'll only feel good for two seconds so everyone but you feels more comfortable. You don't have to say a damn thing to me if you don't want to,” with spoons in hand, he pointed a finger towards the fresh cup of water and its own small silver marker, ”but it's been days and this is stupid.”
Passing a glance to the pointed spoons and where they were directed, Ethiriel’s brows knit hard before looking back to Gabe’s ring. ”I’m not dead yet so what does it matter? I’ll eat when I feel like it!” Finally, also for the first time in days, she hovered off of her bed and stayed roughly a yard from the Knight. ”I appreciate the concern but it’s not what I want right now! I just want to be left alone!”
The spoons clattered against his side when Gabe dropped his arm. Without seeing his face, the language of his body, it seemed for a moment that he was at a loss – until he spoke.
”Fine,” he all but tossed both of the spoons into the cup he was holding, ”if you don't want anyone here, you got it.” His hand gripped the thin chain at his neck, ”You're done with these?” he pulled, snapping it. It fell to the floor in a coiled heap. ”There you go. All better. Problem ******** solved.”
His tone caused Ethiriel to falter and her eyes immediately shot to the necklace as it fell to the floor. She stared at it incredulously before uselessly searching for Gabe, now devoid of any silver. The Frei had no more words as she remained locked on the silver in the cup.
Anger hit her again and Ethiriel closed her slack jaw. ”Fine.” she hissed, fumbling for her bed before touching the soft comforter and tossing it upward before burying herself within the sheets.
That was the last she had to say to him.
The sound of footsteps, then, the slamming of the door.
The Frei heard Henry peek out of his room and promptly chase after Gabe.
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Posted: Wed Mar 16, 2016 9:30 am
QUEST
There was only a brief moment that Gabe had managed to get away and onto the stoop by the time Henry nearly slammed the door open. His expression was filled with worry after hearing the first door slamming, Ethiriel’s door, and he made pursuit as soon as the front door had been closed so sloppily. His hair was down and messy, falling over his face and shoulders as he stood staring at his younger brother. Quick to close the door behind him, the nurse crossed his arms to keep himself warm as he left his jacket inside.
After a moment of staring, Henry finally spoke, ”What in the world was that about?”
Gabe was seated on the front step just ahead of the door struggling with his lighter. He, also, had neglected to retrieve his jacket before storming out. Each flick of the lighter became more frantic the longer he ignored Henry but after a point the younger brother just clutched it in his hand.
”Don't talk to me right n--” a sharp cough interrupted him, which he immediately muffled with the crook of his arm. Several more wracked his lungs and, before they were through, Gabe leaned forward against his knees. Once he quieted, he didn't continue what he was saying; he stayed still save for ragged draws of breath, face hidden against his arm. The unlit cigarette lay between his feet.
As soon as the coughing had started, Henry was beside Gabe with his hand resting gently on his back. He wanted to turn back, go inside and retrieve a jacket for his younger brother but, for the moment, he remained.
”Don’t give me that. What happened?”
One of Gabe's thin arms reached for Henry's shoulder and tried to push the contact away. It wasn't strong, not a shove, more like a request for distance but Gabe didn't have the strength to contend with Henry even on a good day.
In response, Henry pulled away.
The younger Knight stayed quiet, breath shallow until it slowly evened out. Gabe only adjusted enough against his arm so his mouth wasn't blocked and his voice could carry, otherwise he continued to hide against it.
”Do you think I'm rubbing off on her?” he asked, voice a bit hoarse. Only after Gabe asked did he attempt to clear his throat.
Rub off on…? Henry gave Gabe a perplexed look, searching his face for more explanation but there was none.
”I’m not sure I understand, Gabe…” the nurse finally offered after a moment.
”She got pissed before I did. She never gets pissed...”
Now Henry was thoroughly confused and worried. ”She got mad…?” he asked, eyes still drilling for more explanation. What exactly had happened? Instead of kneeling, the nurse took a seat next to Gabe and looked out toward the currently empty street before them. ”She is going through a hard time, but I never would have imagined…”
He hadn’t even realized that Gabe’s question went unanswered.
Gabe pulled his arm back as Henry sat down and let it hang loosely around his legs. It took some time but he finally pulled his face away; he set his chin on his arm, staring at the same empty road. The brothers sat quietly in the chilled air. Gabe didn't look mad anymore, or even sound it; there was an exhaustion present that was rarely seen.
”It's contagious, isn't it,” he reached down for the fallen cigarette and held it loosely between two fingers, ”when I'm angry.”
”It certainly doesn’t help things,” Henry said with a soft tone. ”I don’t necessarily think it’s your fault that she got angry. In the years that she’s been here, she’s never let it out once… so it built up and the loss of her sight triggered it.”
Giving Gabe the most sympathetic look he could, even if the man couldn’t see it, Henry stared at his brother’s profile. He considered placing his hand on his back again but held back for now. ”I wasn’t there so I can’t say you didn’t do anything, but I’m sure this is all a big misunderstanding.”
He scoffed tiredly, ”Oh, I did something.”
Gabe straightened up where he sat, lighter in one hand and cig in the other. Even with his longer sleeves, there was a slight tremble to his hands only made obvious from the subtle movement of the cigarette's length.
Still staring, Henry sighed. ”Then what did you do? What happened?”
”The walls aren't that damn thick, Henry. You had to have heard some of it.”
”I didn’t catch anything that was said, just your muffled voices. It wasn’t until you slammed the door that I noticed anything was off.”
Gabe huffed; he held his head with cigarette in hand, which only made the shivering more obvious. There were a few moments of silence before he answered, sounding a little more impatient. ”She still wouldn't eat so I told her this was getting stupid,” he tried flicking the lighter again – this time was successful, ”she said it didn't matter since she wasn't dead yet.”
The end of the paper burned slowly in the cold air. Gabe still didn't look at his brother, nor anywhere except the ashen tip of the cigarette now, but after a pause his voice calmed and lowered.
”I really ******** up.”
This time, Henry didn’t hesitate to touch his brother; he placed his hand squarely between Gabe’s shoulder blades and rubbed gently.
”I’m sure she would have said the same thing to me had I tried,” Henry suggested, giving Gabe another gentle pat before retracting his hand and resting his elbows on his knees. Ethiriel really said that? This was getting out of hand if she was thinking in such a way, and the nurse’s brows knit with worry as he looked back out onto the road. ”Thank you for checking up on her.”
Gabe's back stiffened uncomfortably beneath Henry's hand but the contact didn't last long enough this time for him to push it away. He kept his head down, watching the smoke rise.
”Yeah, well, that's the last time I'm going to.”
”I’m sorry she said that to you.”
There was a short, dry laugh from his younger brother before he finally took a drag; it was devoid of humor, only soaked with frustration. ”I'll ******** get over it.” He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, breathing smoke. After a pause, Gabe added quietly, ”I just don't know if she will.”
It had been a while since Henry had seen Gabe so worried over someone else. He gave his brother a once over, then focused solely on his face. The younger Knight looked so tired, so worn – Henry had never really noticed before. The worry on his face didn’t help matters, the nurse was sure, but… it was kind of weird.
”We just need to keep an eye on her… Intervene if need be.”
He turned away, looking further down the street, but it was hard to say if he did so from his brother's inspection or not. ”She's not going to want me around,” he stated plainly, ”just... do what you do.”
Letting out a slow and silent exhale, Henry allowed his hands to hang between his shoulders. He wanted to make Gabe feel better, Ethiriel feel better – it was his job, that’s what he did, but for now he was powerless. ”I’ll keep bringing her food, but I’ll leave her alone other than that. She just… needs space.”
Coming to a stand, Henry dusted off the back of his jeans and took a step onto the porch. He looked back down at his brother, his own expression tired and torn. ”Don’t stay out without a jacket for too long. We’ll get this figured out.”
Gabe stretched his legs out across the step as another plume of smoke trailed from his lips. The frequency of him smoking, and the lack of effort in hiding it, had increased since the doctor came the other day; with stress riding high like this, it was only sure to increase. Gabe didn't respond to Henry outright. He went quiet and stayed where he sat, only offering the barest acknowledgment with a vague gesture of his hand.
Before Henry shut the door completely, though, Gabe's voice followed him. ”She doesn't want to use silver anymore.”
At that, the nurse turned, his expression worried. Tapping his fingers against the door, Henry stared at the back of Gabe’s head. ”To see or to eat?”
”Probably both.”
”Hrmm…”
Thinking it over, Henry pushed himself away from the door and closed it again. ”Well, there’s really nothing we can do about that right now. If it goes on for too long, I’ll try to put a stop to this.”
How? He didn’t really know.
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Posted: Thu Mar 17, 2016 11:21 am
QUEST
Was this a good idea? He had promised Gabe to stand back and give Ethiriel her space while she worked through this… but given how she had exploded at his brother, Henry couldn’t sit idly by and allow this to happen. Not in his house, not with his family.
”Ethiriel?” Henry called out from behind the closed door, knocking on the door three short times.
Immediately, for the first time in what felt like days, Ethiriel responded, ”Leave me be!”
Henry wasn’t going to take that for an answer; not right now. He opened the door a tad and peaked in, brows knit and expression worried – not that Ethiriel could see it, anyway. There was a scoff of dismissal from the Frei as the nurse took a few steps forward. With Ethiriel under the sheets, completely covered, the older Knight brother made no attempt to speak until he was sitting at the foot of her bed.
At the corner of the mattress sinking in, Ethiriel let out another sound of dismissal, clearly angrier this time.
”I can’t let you do this,” Henry finally spoke, leaning forward against his legs. ”I’ve never heard you raise your voice like this – especially to my brother. This isn’t okay.”
”I don’t care! Leave!”
Her voice was slightly muffled by the covers.
Sighing, Henry cupped his face in frustration, his elbows still resting against his legs. ”I’m not leaving right now, Eth. This is serious.”
Tossing the covers away, Ethiriel glared daggers at the foot of her bed. ”And I’m serious! Leave me alone!”
”Why are you doing this?”
Taken back, Ethiriel stared, her expression lost and shocked. It wasn’t long before her brows furrowed and she tossed a pillow toward Henry, though it missed by a foot. ”I want to be alone! Why are you doing this? Just go!” she exclaimed, burying herself in her sheets again with a huff.
Rubbing his face, Henry sighed again.
”I understand you’re upset, but this is ridiculous. The children at the hospital behave better than this when they learn they only have days to live.”
There was a movement under the sheets, but Henry couldn’t see the terror on Ethiriel’s face before it morphed back into anger. ”They don’t have to live with this!”
”What? With being blind?” Henry said with a start. ”There are plenty of kids that have to deal with that! And don’t say that about a child again, Ethiriel. They don’t deserve that kind of treatment.” Anger filled Henry’s tone, unable to believe that the Frei could even suggest death was better than being blind.
If it weren’t for her anger, she wouldn’t have meant that.
If it weren’t for her anger, she would have been surprised at Henry’s tone.
If it weren’t for her anger, Gabe never would have been scared off.
The frei still refused to remove the sheets from over her, to glance at the silver ring and broken chain that layed uselessly on the floor, to glance at the bracelet on Henry’s wrist. She could feel the anger consuming her and didn’t care. She had never felt like this before and she didn’t know how to stop it, even if she was hurting the people around her.
”Ethiriel—“
”Leave.”
”This isn’t okay!”
”Leave.”
”ETHIRIEL!”
”I SAID LEAVE!”
Henry stood, his fists balled at his sides. He took a moment to breathe, staring at the lump of sheets that Ethiriel created to cover herself and sighed. Soon, sadness took over despite how shortly the anger in him lasted, and all he could do was soak in the situation. It was sad that the procedure had failed, that there was nothing either of them could do about it… but what was most sad was the Frei’s reaction and sudden shut down. He had raised Ethiriel better than this… at least, so he thought.
He watched the bed for another brief moment before unballing his fists and walking toward the door. ”You don’t realize it, but you need help, Ethiriel. I wish I could give it to you.”
No response.
Once the door shut behind the nurse, Ethiriel let out a jagged sob.
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 12:33 pm
QUEST
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. None of this was right.
Buried in her sheets, Ethiriel let out a heavy sigh; this was all wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be sitting here, blind, wallowing in her own self-pity. She knew she shouldn’t act this way, yet here she was. She was supposed to be happy, she was supposed to be with her friends, laughing and enjoying herself. She wasn’t supposed to be lying here hating herself with every fiber of her being.
If only she couldn’t have seen before.
The wish she made out of a gut reaction came true – she couldn’t see, and that was it. She couldn’t even see things right at her face; that option was gone. Now she only had her silver, and she wanted none of it.
Why did things have to turn out this way?
The Frei curled up tighter, pulling the sheets with her in her little cocoon. The worst part of this was… she was fully aware of how she was hurting herself, hurting others – Henry and Gabe. The words she said to them cut deep… what if they wouldn’t forgive her? What if this was the last straw?
What if Henry gave her up like Leo had?
Staring blankly into her own abyss, Ethiriel let out another breath. This wasn’t right.
Was this her fault?
Was this karma telling her that she messed up?
Tears threatened Ethiriel’s eyes – this was all her fault. Every last bit of it. She had asked to see, she gained the ability, and while the few months she had it were great, one of the only things in her mind, swallowed by darkness, was the sight of Zurine and Cesc – a dear friend and a lovely acquaintance, forever etched in her memory. Curling in tighter, the Frei choked out a sob before covering her mouth with a hand.
She had wanted more than life would give her, and now she was falling apart and fully aware of it. She was being selfish, so selfish, and here she was in pieces. How could she have let this happen?
Finally, the air surrounding her, nestled in the sheets, became too thick. However, she didn’t dare poke her head out, or else she would face her destruction. To breathe seemed like too much of a gift and Ethiriel wanted to deny that as well. She didn’t deserve any of what she had been given. She had been greedy and overly reliant on others. She never helped herself, especially when she needed it.
Especially now.
”Dammit…” she muttered beneath her breath, curling in tighter.
There was a knock at the door, startling Ethiriel, but she did not answer, did not poke her head out, and didn’t move when it was opened fully. She couldn’t even see the light pouring in from the door, like she had for those few brief months. The Frei seethed with gritted teeth.
”Ethiriel?” Henry piped, a hot cup of water in his hand and a silver spoon resting inside. Even though nothing had been touched since the last visit, the man still tried – several times a day, in fact; when the water cooled, he just kept bringing more. ”Ethiriel, please…”
She couldn’t keep doing this.
”Go away,” the Frei ordered, not moving elsewise.
The nurse sighed as he placed down the mug, backing off a few paces before staring sadly at the bundle of sheets that Ethiriel now called her home. He had taken Gabe’s advice to heart, but… it was hard. So hard. All Henry wanted to do was make Ethiriel feel better; it was in his nature. His ward was self-destructing and there was nothing he could do about it, nothing in his power could aid her in this situation.
She needed to sort this out, herself.
Wordlessly, the nurse gave up and retreated, shutting the door behind him gently.
Deflating, Ethiriel nestled back into her mound of covers, having moved just slightly as to not cloud her voice by fabric – she wanted to make it clear that she wanted to be alone, for everyone to just… leave her alone. The Frei had never felt this Done in her life.
And this was all self-inflicted.
In this swirling pit of loathing, she couldn’t see the light.
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Posted: Fri Mar 18, 2016 5:14 pm
QUEST
Cesc: January 1, 10:55 a.m.
You guys get home okay?
Eth: January 1, 10:56 a.m.
Yes we did. Did you sleep well read
Cesc: January 1, 10:56 a.m.
Slept alright. Was everything okay last night? You seemed upset.
Eth: January 1, 10:57 a.m.
I'm sorry I just read too far into something I am OK now
Cesc: January 1, 10:58 a.m.
I'm sorry if I upset you in any way. Never my intention.
Eth: January 1, 10:59 a.m.
You did nothing do not worry
Cesc: January 1, 11:02 a.m.
I'm glad you're alright.
Cesc: January 1, 11:15 a.m.
You were killer in that snowball fight. Rematch sometime?
Cesc: January 2, 2:43 p.m.
Alright, to the victor go the spoils. Fair enough.
Cesc: January 4, 1:07 p.m.
You sure everything's okay?
Cesc: January 4, 1:11 p.m.
Eth? You break your phone?
Cesc: January 7, 11:13 a.m.
Hey...
Cesc: January 10, 6:28 p.m.
Hey, if something's up, just let me know.
Cesc: January 10, 6:32 p.m.
Called Henry. I'm going to come by.
Cesc was cold. He hadn't quite dressed for an excursion, and he had texted Eth on something of a whim in the middle of his pitching practice. He was dressed accordingly, a dark red baseball tee, a white baseball cap, and a quick black zip-up hoodie he'd barely remembered to throw on top of the ensemble before he went out.
He understood why Eth hadn't reached out, now. Maybe this had all started at the New Year's party? He didn't know. He'd had hurried words with Henry, then with Vivi and Shepard, and now he came to the steps of Eth's house to--to--
--actually, Rhedefre wasn't sure what he meant to do. Just to be there? That was all he really had planned. To be there, to see Ethiriel, to see what he could do.
He knocked on the door, his cheeks and nose red, his hands dry and cold.
The delay for the door opening was large, almost as if no one was home. However, quick footsteps were heard on the other side against the hardwood floor and soon stood Henry with the door opened by a few feet.
"Hey, Cesc..." he said, clearly exhausted. "I'm... really sorry. I probably should have said something sooner."
"How's she doing?" Cesc bypassed the apology entirely, his eyes wide, his eyebrows raised. He floated into the house, but decorum kept him from just going straight to Ethiriel's room and hearing the answer to his own question first.
"Not so great," Henry confessed, closing the door quietly behind the Sigel. "She refuses to get up and as far as we've been aware, feed."
The nurse followed closely behind the obviously impatient Raevan, stopping short of the Frei's door.
"Maybe you can help. I don't know..."
Cesc's brows came together as Henry spoke, still raised, a look of alarm entering his eyes at his words. Not feeding? A memory shivered into his mind, an image of Zurine crumpled around her doll, weeping; Zurine at the foot of a tree, muddied, thin...
No, no. Not again-- not Ethiriel.
He swallowed, but his mouth was dry. He did not answer Henry, not wanting to deliver promises he might not be able to keep. He needed to see her, first, needed to see what could be done and how far her despair had taken her. He knocked on Ethiriel's door, soft.
"Eth?" he called, quiet.
Henry backed off once the Sigel approached the door, taking to leaning against the opposite wall.
There was no answer from within the room -- not a shift, no movement and no voice. Ethiriel had registered his voice but couldn't bring herself to speak out as she laid mostly lifeless on the bed.
The nurse motioned for Cesc to enter anyway, giving a quiet 'go ahead.'
Cesc waited at the door for a long moment. He wanted for Ethiriel to call out to him, to do something that showed that she wanted his presence in that room with her. He put his hand in his hoodie pocket, and his fingers came in contact with something he'd removed for pitching practice--his silver ring that she'd crafted for him, not all that long ago.
He supposed, with a thought that surprised him how much it stung, he would need it if he were to enter. Cesc fumbled, pushing the ring onto his finger. He opened the door, a crack first, calling quietly: "Eth? I'm coming in."
He pushed forward into the room, quiet and dark though it was, and looked for his friend.
There was a light shift of weight underneath the covers, but other than that there was hardly anything from Ethiriel. Her head remained uncovered as she stared blankly forward in the darkness of the room, her temple resting against her arm.
There was a quick flicker of her eyes as the silver caught her attention, and though brief, she passed a glance with furrowed brows.
Cesc left the door ajar as he floated in. Eth didn't much move, didn't recognize his presence, didn't... do much of anything. It was as though she were in a trance, simply laying and staring quietly into the nothing. Cesc came close to the bad, leaning over her, his eyes tracing her.
She was unwell.
Well, obviously, he thought to himself irritably. But it was not the sort of un-wellness that had overtaken Zuri, a strangling hunger and gnawing despair. This was... quiet. Internal. He could feel it snaking around her, but it was not crying outward. It was filling her. Like a poison spreading.
"Eth?" Cesc's voice was soothing, low. "I'm sorry to barge in on you. I was worried." He paused. "Henry... he's also worried."
While there was still no outward reaction, even to his voice, Ethiriel listened as Cesc spoke. The Frei hardly even blinked despite the dry air burning her half lidded eyes.
First she had to see Cesc making moves on Zurine, then she lost her sight and, in turn, made Cesc worry over her to the point where he invited himself to see her. The more things added up, the more she hated herself.
"Yeah," she finally said, passing another glance at his ring. She said nothing more despite keeping her sights locked on the closest thing to him that she could.
"Yeah," Rhedefre repeated quietly. He looked around, casting about for a place to sit. In the end, he moved a chair close to the edge of the bed and planted himself there, not wanting to encroach too closely on her personal space. He was still unsure that he hadn't done so by kissing her on New Year's, and that was an upset he didn't want to heave on top of what was already happening now.
"Eth..." he tried again after a moment. "...you know this, I know you do, but please. This isn't good for you."
"Why does it matter?" she answered promptly, eyes still locked on the silver. She wanted so badly for him to remove it, to hide it, but she couldn't muster up the energy to. After the fight with Gabe, she barely had the energy for most anything, even without feeding.
There was a brief pause and Ethiriel's gaze returned to the engulfing darkness. "It's like nothing can go right."
"That's not true," said Cesc gently. His voice softened in the face of her sudden sharpness, but it was still firm, steady. He started to reach for her and paused, then dropped his hand. "That isn't true, Eth. There's always a chance with surgeries that they... might not be successful. And I'm sorry, I truly am. But that doesn't mean nothing went right. That doesn't mean nothing can go right for you. That's just not true."
Eyes narrowing for a brief second, Ethiriel let out a slow breath. Even in the darkness she could see Cesc so passionately kiss Zurine, it plaguing her mind now that she couldn't see anything else.
She thought briefly of telling the stag how she felt, but at the very moment she couldn't bring herself to. No, it wouldn't help her feel any better, or so she thought, and she swallowed hard before closing her tear-filled eyes.
Ethiriel opened her mouth to finally speak, but only air came out in a silent huff before she closed it again.
She had no response.
Rhedefre watched her, his fingers laced, his thumb anxiously grinding into the heel of his other hand. His eyes stayed on hers, and he saw the wet come over them, threatening to spill. His throat tightened, and he leaned forward, his hand hovering in hesitation.
At last, it came down, smoothing back her hair.
"Eth..." he murmured. "I'm not asking you not to be sad, or angry. Please. I'm not asking you to feel better right now. But I want you, please, to just... drink something. Please think about coming out of this bed. I know you wanted... I know you wanted things to be easy. I am so sorry they aren't, I am. I wish for you that they were. But please, please..." his voice lowered, nearly a whisper. "Please don't give up entirely because of that. It's still a good world, it's still worth you interacting in it."
"You don't understand," she murmurred, flinching at the sudden contact. Finally, finally, she pushed herself out of the bed. Looking lazily forward, almost refusing to look at the ring she had made for Cesc, she rubbed her arm with her opposite hand. "I'm stupid. So stupid. I never learn."
"What are you talking about?" Cesc countered, sitting up straighter. He withdrew his hand as she flinched, his face drawn. "Why would you be stupid? You hoped, and you thought you had what you wanted. It's okay, Eth. Don't say that about yourself. It's not true."
Her tired eyes flickered again, uselessly trying to see him, which only pooled the tears over -- she didn't wipe them away, her hands glued to opposite arms.
"It's... I just..." Ethiriel stammered, unable to find the words. She couldn't tell him how she felt, even with this swirling, raw emotion that filled her. It bubbled into anger that she couldn't figure out how or where to place. "I am a fool. A fool for wanting more than I can have and expecting it."
For a moment, Cesc's breath caught in his throat at the sight of her crying, his lips parting as he tried uselessly to think of some salve, some solution, he could give her to her problems. The feeling of her grief and upset stabbed through him as it crescendoed into those tears, and although she had flinched, he couldn't help himself. Bending forward, he took her face in his hands and wiped away her tears with both thumbs. She needed to know, he thought, she needed to know that he was here and close and willing to help. Would this not help? Wouldn't it?
"No, you aren't," he insisted. "We all want things--and sometimes we get it and sometimes we don't. And it sucks to be disappointed. It sucks, Eth, I'm not arguing with you. But you're allowed to want things, and to try for them, and to be upset if it doesn't go your way. It doesn't make you a fool. It doesn't make you anything but a person."
The feeling of his warm hands against her cheeks made her face flush, a waving pit swirling in her rune. She allowed him to wipe her tears, but after a brief moment of contact she raised her hands and clutched at his wrists, attempting to push them away from her face. Ethiriel's expression contorted to near pain.
All she could see was the kiss.
"No. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve your kindness. Not right now."
Cesc let her push him away, and his hands fell easy on her slightest pressure. It bit, the way she reacted to his touch, but he couldn't blame her. She'd made it amply clear now that she did not want it, did not want contact with him. He needed to stop, he berated himself, equating touch as what it was to him instead of what it was to her. He held his hands in the space between them, his wrists in her hands, until she chose to pull that away.
"Don't convince yourself of that," he said, his voice breathless. "It's not true."
"I don't..." she said under her breath, tears continuing to flow down her sun kissed skin. "I don't, I don't..." she reiterrated as she allowed her head to fall in the space between their arms.
"I don't deserve this and I don't deserve you. I don't deserve it and I never did!" Ethiriel shouted, mostly at herself but at Cesc, in anger, before letting go of his hands and covering her face. "Why can't you see that?!"
Stricken, Cesc stared at her with his mouth open, his eyes wide and alarmed. He half-moved forward, his first instinct to wrap Ethiriel into a hug, but he caught himself, and without that option, he gridlocked. What could be done for her? Why--what would drive her to say such things, so patently untrue, so wildly incorrect?
His aura rifled from his skin like a hurricane then. Would she accept it, the invitation to relax, to calm? She'd helped him once that way; would she accept the same courtesy after so vehemently denying that she deserved even a friend's presence?
"Why..." Cesc's voice was bewildered. "Why wouldn't you deserve having a friend here when you need one, Eth? Didn't you-- didn't you do it for me, when you didn't even know me?"
Ethiriel broke down further at his questioning, shaking her head as it hung lower. The truth in his words rung in her mind, in her rune, but she couldn't accept it.
"I don't need it...!" she denied his words despite how correct he was, caving in more and more on herself. "I don't need anything! Why do you care?!"
Her last question hit him behind the ribs, with a force like a shot. Rhedefre let go of a breath, his head jutting backward in a start, as though she had attempted to strike him. He fought down his reaction, the feeling of hurt that threatened to bloom from it. He could not, he told himself, could not take this personally. Ethiriel was the one hurting. She was the one lashing out. This was not about him. This was not about them.
Rhedefre repeated it to himself another time, trying to make it stick.
"I care--" he said, his voice low and steady, "because we're friends, and we're not just friends when you can see, or when you feel great, or when you want me around. We're also friends when you feel like this, and when you haven't eaten, and when you want me to get up and leave."
The more Cesc spoke, the sicker Ethiriel felt. His words, much like hers did to him, hit her in the chest in painful spurts. She sobbed hard behind her hands, shaking her head violently.
"Then LEAVE!" she shouted, hardly thinking about what came out of her mouth. Instead, she hovered lower and lower until she was practically on the floor, her back against the side of her bed. "I want to be alone..." she mumbled, barely audible past her hands.
This was... terrible, Cesc decided with finality, the muscles of his jaw clenching as Ethiriel yelled at him. It was Herculean now not to take any of it personally, not to let a spike of anger rise up in him at being ordered away from her so unceremoniously. His heart pumped hard in his chest, and adrenaline shocked his fingertips and the curves of his ears. He was, he knew, trying to break a brick wall by bashing his head into it, but he was stubborn, and he was not done yet.
He clenched and unclenched his hands, forcing himself to hold a breath and let it out slowly. He rose from the chair, and sank to the floor.
"You have been alone plenty," said Cesc, matter-of-fact.
Unable to respond, Ethiriel slid from the bed propping her up down onto the floor fully, resting on her side with her face still covered. She let out another sob, shaking her head. Again, she couldn't find words -- to be honest, she didn't want him to leave. She wanted to bask in his warmth and be held, cradled, comforted, but all she could think of was he and Zurine together.
For a long moment, Cesc watched her glumly, his heart sinking and settling into his stomach. He felt a little ill, a little hurt, and a lot concerned, and he was out of answers. He rested his head back on his chair, his throat and Adam's apple exposed, and allowed himself to look away from Ethiriel to the ceiling for a long moment.
"You've got to get out of this room," he whispered. He righted himself, running his fingers through his hair, and looked down at her. "Eth-- up until last October, when you would go out with me... when we went to the opera, to musicals... was it so horrible? When we'd go to the park, was it truly that unbearable, to... do this? To stop eating, to lock yourself up in here?"
There was a lull in Ethiriel's crying, having calmed in the moment of silence between the two of them. Her ears perked when he picked up, and her eyes widened in shock. Wait... was he blaming himself for this? Did he think she didn't enjoy his company?
Well, that was her own fault.
"It's not you..." she huffed, removing her hands from her wet face. The Frei remained on the floor, staring foward blankly. "My time with you is cherished--"
Except for now.
She buried her face again, shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I'm sorry..."
"Hey--" Cesc scooted forward. Again, his hand went out, and again, he had to stop himself before it handed on her. He put his palm on the ground to keep it there. "That's not what I meant. Not at all. Don't apologize, please."
He smiled gently, helplessly, and although she couldn't see it, it rang out in his words. "I just meant--were things so bad back then that going back to the way they were... does it really make you want to give up so wholly? I know it hurts, and I know... I know you're upset, and you have a right to be. But does going back to that really mean you don't want even... what fun we had before?"
"It's gone..." she said, removing her hands to wipe futilely at her cheeks. There was only a small pause before she continued. "I can only see silver. There's no proximity that I can reach in order to see. It's all gone."
Ethiriel sniffed hard, brows furrowed deeply. "I'm going to forget what you look like..."
"I'm sorry," Cesc said in a whisper, and there was grief for her in his voice. It was well enough, he thought, that she couldn't see him now, with his brows drawn and his face so full of concern for her. As she spoke, he felt his throat constrict and his eyes stung.
He settled down closer to her, and he gently took one of her hands and led it to his face. He placed her fingers there, as she had often done before, to 'see' him in that way.
"No," he said. "You won't."
At first, Ethiriel flinched at the touch to her hand but she allowed Cesc to guide her, her fingers touching that skin of his that they missed so much. Tears sprung anew as she stared before her, and before she knew it her arms were around his shoulders with her face buried in his collar, weeping.
The movement toward him startled Cesc, especially after having been so blatantly rejected until this point, and so it took him a moment to react. He wrapped his arms around Ethiriel, one hand at her back and the other on her hair, stroking her hair gently. He murmured, not really words, soft 'sh's and noises of comfort. There was nothing he knew to say.
He unfurled his aura one more time, offering the extra comfort to her.
This time, Ethiriel took his comforting gestures greedily. Her hands held the back of Cesc's shirt tight as if to make sure he didn't slip away.
Once his aura reached her, the silver Frei relaxed in Cesc's grip. With it enveloping her, she couldn't focus on her harsh words or pushing the stag away prior.
It was with great consideration that she spoke again.
"...I was jealous," she said without context, sniffling quietly as she regained her composure thanks to Cesc's help.
The moment stretched long, the break in her composure and this subsequent crying out, but that was better, Cesc thought, than her catatonic staring. Damn! She could cry for another eight hours, it would be better than that dead fish-eyed stare! He'd take this, certainly, more than that. Now, he thought, if only she would eat...
"...what?" Rhedefre spoke, surprised to hear the sound of her voice, his chin turning gently against the side of her face, his stubble scratching the gentle skin at her temple.
Silence fell over them both as Ethiriel thought over her words. Why did she let that slip? Closing her eyes, she exhaled and gently shook her head beneath his chin. Claire had suggested that she talk to Cesc about her feelings, but… "Nothing. Another time," she said, remembering Claire's words -- it was something they needed to talk about, but right now wasn't the time. "I'm sorry. I'm acting like a child."
And yet, part of her continued to hate and nag at herself, especially now under Cesc's hold. She wanted to stay like this, to be surrounded by his warmth and scent, but part of her knew it wasn't right.
Something clicked in the back of Cesc's brain. The night--her silence--the timeline of events. He suddenly remembered the moment, in this very room, when he learned she could see. The touch of her hand on his smiling mouth, lingering. His heart rate rose again, and he wet his lips, the color draining from his face.
Another time, Ethiriel said, and stunned, he nodded. Another time. Another time that was not at this moment, then he could... they could...
Swallowing, he found his voice.
"You're upset," said Cesc. "That's not childish."
He pulled just slightly away, enough to look down at her more properly. He felt suddenly very strange, as though he were breaking a rule--stepping outside the law--doing something wrong. An absurd thought jumped into his mind: what would Henry think if he saw them this way?
He squashed down the thoughts, and forced himself to focus. Ethiriel--what was good for Ethiriel, right now, right this moment.
"But," he ventured gently, "Not eating is a little more in that realm, you know."
His slight retreat was noticed but not responded to, Ethiriel staying in place as he looked her over, her arms sliding back from around Cesc's shoulders.
For another time.
"Yes..." she agreed, her eyes softening through heavy lids. Her eyes hurt, but she made no effort to rub or contact them. Mentally, she cursed herself. She really had been childish -- far too much so. Gabe had told her to throw her ladylike image out the window, to live for herself, and this is what she did with it. She didn't shake her head, but instead closed her eyes and sighed. "...I will feed."
"Okay," Cesc said softly, rubbing her upper arms with both hands as she pulled away. He breathed, steadying himself. His mind was begging for a handhold, begging to be allowed to dwell, but Rhedefre categorically refused it. "Okay, that's one step. And... you'll try to go outside? At least stick your head out the window?" The last part was said with a gentle geniality, a bare invitation for a smile.
Unfortunately, the gentle tease wasn't met with a smile, Ethiriel's emotions still on the low. Finally, finally, Ethiriel rubbed the tears away from her face. She floated higher, closer to bed level, using her hands as a measuring tool. Not waiting for Cesc, she blindly searched the night stand for her cup of now room temperature water and held it carefully, wordlessly, in her hand.
Had she known Cesc's wishes for contact, she would have obliged now that things had calmed.
"It was... so sudden. It was just gone and I did not know how to handle it."
It was a long shot, Rhedefre knew, but he stayed where he was until she rose, and then he followed in suit, sitting on the chair he'd abandoned. It filled him with a relief he couldn't name to see her reach for the water, the tension in his shoulders dropping. He watched her, and listened, his face dropping as she spoke.
"I'm sorry," he said, looking down at his hands and then back up at her. "I know that must have been... incredibly difficult for you to go through."
"I feel foolish. I shouldn't have thrown a tantrum but... I did. I feel a hole in my chest for several different things, and it grew and engulfed me." There was hesitation before she finally dipped her thumbs fully into the water, but her expression calmed immediately at the sensation. "I was a bother to you and-- and to Gabe. I made a mess."
Cesc watched her without speaking, drawing his bottom lip into his mouth, his brows coming together. He didn't know Gabe, didn't know what their relationship was, or how she'd made a mess of it, but he could only assume their conversation had gone... similarly. And she was right, it was messy. It had been a tantrum. But she'd needed to have one. She'd needed to exercise the grief, he told himself, and grief was messy.
"You know," Rhedefre said after a pause. "...the summer before last, I... got into something of a mess. We had this girl visit, this old friend of Vivi and Shepard's. And she was awful to me, she hated me. And I tried at first, I did, but after a while, I hated her right back. And I said some stuff to her I couldn't take back. It spiraled, and it got worse, and I got into a fight with Vivi, too--it was awful. It felt like the worst mess I'd ever made of anything in my life. And I felt like a kid, too."
He shrugged. "But I found out... that's just how it goes sometimes. Life is messy. We don't always have control over things that we wish we did, and when things go wrong, sometimes it's easy to go off the rails, too. But it doesn't mean that something's just wrong with you because you didn't know how to handle it, or because you got into a mess. It's just life, Eth. You're going through something really hard, and you want to do it with your usual grace, and that couldn't happen. It's okay to hurt. It's okay to be mad. It's okay to make a little mess. You'll get through it, and we'll still be here."
Staring down at the silver spoon resting between her thumbs in the mug, Ethiriel hung on every word -- though, to be honest, she couldn't imagine anyone hating Cesc of all people. She listened carefully, and the more he continued the more her eyes would sting.
Yes, she wished she had handled this better, but it was too late now -- dead and done. What mattered was that she was finally level headed enough to understand where the stag was coming from, to see the things she had been doing.
Hanging her head, Ethiriel scoffed.
"I'm sorry I raised my voice at you. You didn't deserve that."
It was his first inclination to brush it off, to tell her it didn't matter, to do what he could to calm her in that way. But that wasn't true, Cesc knew. It did matter that she had yelled at him, and it had hurt, and it wasn't 'just okay'.
Instead, he said: "Thank you. I appreciate that." He scratched his cheek, slow, and added, "I know you didn't mean it."
A small wave of relief washed over Ethiriel and she was beyond grateful that he accepted her apology. "Perhaps I can make it up to you someday," she said.
"Come out with me again," he suggested, earnest.
"I think I can do that," Ethiriel said with a tired smile, weak and trembling at the corners.
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Posted: Sat Mar 19, 2016 7:50 am
QUEST
Neither Cesc nor Henry had noticed it and Ethiriel hadn’t picked up, and now the Frei found herself idly staring at the silver ring Gabe had left on the floor. Her chest felt tight as she watched it, half expecting it to get up and do something in her daze, but there it sat. Had she ruined everything with Gabe? Cesc had done a good job of cooling Ethiriel down, forcing her to feed and become responsive for the first time in days. There was bitterness in that ring, and it was almost as if, if she touched it… it would burn.
Ethiriel couldn’t bring herself to look away as she hesitantly hovered away from the bed, resting on the floor about a foot away from the ring – easy reaching distance. She hesitantly retracted her arm just as soon as she had reached out for it. Why had she said those things to Gabe? Why did she have to mess things up so horribly?
”Ethiriel—“ Henry said from behind the closed door.
The silver Raevan grabbed the ring and its broken chain, holding it close to herself as she quickly made her way back to the bed. Hiding her hands under the sheets while sitting up, Ethiriel gave no audible indication that she was ready for Henry to enter, but she made no protest as the door opened.
Cesc hadn’t left long ago, maybe an hour or so, and the nurse wanted to make sure Ethiriel was alright as he stag had left in a bit of a daze. Henry stood in the doorway for just a moment, his hand held high against the door frame. ”May I come in?”
”Sure,” Ethiriel responded, her voice light but more certain than it had been.
”How’re you feeling?”
Lowering her chin, Ethiriel glanced down at her lap without an answer. She was better, she knew, but words were still failing her as she finally looked up to Henry’s silver bracelet – her eyes narrowed just a tad, but not as bitterly as she had with Gabe.
”I see…” Henry responded, taking a few steps forward and sitting himself down at the foot of Ethiriel’s bed. ”Did you and Cesc have a good conversation?” He then passed a glance at the now-steeped mug of room temperature water at the bedside and his expression softened. ”I’m glad you fed a little.”
The Frei nodded.
”I have an idea,” Henry stated, looking back at Ethiriel – it was easy for him to look her over as she faced him, even if her eyes were down. When she didn’t respond, he continued, ”Candice and the kids have been missing you. They’re going to go on another hike once the weather starts looking up. Think you can go?”
There was a little more light in Ethiriel’s eyes as she glanced up. She had gone on a few hikes with the kids in Henry and Candice’s time in dating, and it had been a while since she had been around them. Even if Hyunae had been upset with her, the Frei wanted to be around her again… now that they were on common ground, again. Thinking of her in particular made Ethiriel sigh, knowing full well that she had become a disappointment in the child’s eyes.
After a brief moment, there was a small nod.
Henry smiled softly, pleased to see that she was ready to finally leave her room. There was about a month before the hike would happen as snow had covered the trail, but maybe he could convince her to leave the room sooner. Maybe she could play with Nedhudir; it had been a while thanks to the weather, but it was getting warmer in Gambino as time continued and surely it was enough to where the Frei could bundle herself.
”I’ll let Candice know. I’m sure she’ll be happy to spend more time with you.”
Another nod.
Figuring that this was the most she was going to give him, Henry stood up from the bed and stretched. ”Just lemme know if you need anything.”
Again, a nod.
When the door closed behind the nurse, Ethiriel dug out the ring and chain that she had hid in her grasp. Her heart sank as she thought of the horrible things she had said to the man and it felt as if her rune churned in place of a stomach. Clutching them tightly, she held them to her chest.
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Posted: Sun Mar 20, 2016 9:42 am
QUEST
The two weeks requested off were almost up and Ethiriel barely showed any sign of improvement, save for just a small amount after Cesc’s impromptu visit – she had agreed to go on the hike with Candice and the kids, but the longer Henry stared at the calendar, the longer it seemed to take – he knew it would be good for the Frei, but the longer she locked herself in her room the longer it would take to heal.
He sighed, resting his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands. The nurse was running out of ideas, and even though Gabe had suggested they give her space Henry felt like there was a rift growing in his little family.
Looking up at the crack in his bedroom door, Henry considered going in and seeing Ethiriel again. Aside from bringing her more water and tarnished silver, he hadn’t really gone in checked on her properly in a few days; shortly after Rhedefre’s visit. He stared for what felt like minutes before tearing his eyes away and looking back down at his paperwork. Everything seemed blurry and incomprehensible… he couldn’t bring himself to do work while the Frei was inwardly tearing herself apart – he had no idea what was going through her head and she wouldn’t say, and this stressed the nurse more than anything.
What was she thinking?
Groaning, Henry pushed himself away from the desk entirely and let the chair slide back toward his bed. He leaned his head back over the backboard of his chair and ran his hand over his face. This was beyond frustrating; he wasn’t used to just sitting back and allowing this to happen. He wanted to help. Somehow. However, much like Gabe had said, there wasn’t much they could do at all without Ethiriel actually wanting their help. Why didn’t she want their help?
There was nothing they could do for the blindness – not unless they wanted to try surgery again – and for all Henry knew, that was why she was taking this so terribly. He could only imagine how hard this was for her, but she wouldn’t say and he could only assume.
The two weeks were almost up and Henry couldn’t do anything for her.
Somehow this was all familiar to the nurse. Henry closed his eyes and sighed again, allowing his arms and legs to go limp as he sat back in the chair, head still hanging over. He frowned, something he never did in front of others if he could help it, and opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling.
”Do you think I'm rubbing off on her?”
Henry stopped searching the ceiling as his brother’s voice rang clearly in his mind. Ah, yes – when they were young, Gabe acted much the same; locking himself in his room, not eating with the family, shutting everyone out…The nurse tensed; this was all too familiar.
And even Gabe had known it.
Pushing himself out of his chair, Henry took a quick stride toward the door just to stop short of grabbing the handle. He hesitated, thinking on whether this was a good idea or not. If he want and talked to Ethiriel, would it help? Would she shut him out and tell him to leave again? Even though they had spoken since, those words hurt him deep inside and he didn’t want to overstep his new, sudden boundaries.
Pulling out his phone, Henry quickly typed in the following:
January 15th, 2:34 p.m.
Cesc, have you heard from Ethiriel lately? Is she still making contact?
Without waiting for a response, he put his phone in his pocket and reached for the knob again, this time hesitating once it was in his hand. With furrowed brows the nurse stared at the door, frozen in place as his mind raced. He didn’t want to hurt Ethiriel further, but was their distance hurting her? Was he making this worse by not doing anything?
Was he smothering her, in one way or another?
Henry let go of the door, though it was still open just a crack. Looking through, he stared at the photos on the wall before his phone vibrated in his front pocket.
January 15th, 2:36 p.m.
Yes. Mostly replies to my texts. Small stuff.
It didn’t take him long to respond.
January 15th, 2:37 p.m.
That's good, I'm glad to hear it. I'm going to go check on her now.
This time, Henry pulled the door open and stepped out into the hall. He glanced at the silver chain hanging from the door frame of the living room with knit brows, then to Gabe’s door at the end of the hall as he walked toward Ethiriel’s between his brother’s and his own. His phone vibrated again:
January 15th, 2:38 p.m.
Let me know if I can help with anything
He didn’t answer this time.
With his hand on Ethiriel’s door knob, once again Henry found himself floundering on what to do. He wanted to help so, so bad, but what could he do without Ethiriel’s consent? What would she allow him to do?
What could he do?
”Ethiriel?” Henry said, slowly opening the door so that it wouldn’t creak. There was no response from beneath the lump of sheets in the middle of the Frei’s bed. He stepped in and carefully closed the door behind him. The nurse examined the dark room for just a moment before stepping toward the blinds to let some sun in – surely that would help, right?
At the sound of Henry’s fumbling, Ethiriel finally spoke: ”Do not open those.”
Stopping dead in his tracks, Henry passed a sympathetic glance toward the bed.
It’s not like you could see it. It won’t hurt your eyes”
Henry thought this, but didn’t dare speak it out loud.
”Some sunlight will help,” he finally said, though he let go of the blinds. ”I know you want to seclude yourself, but this isn’t helping.”
”I do not care. Please… just leave me be for now.”
Passing a glance to the cup of steeped water on the nightstand, Henry let out a small, relieved sigh – she was at least feeding enough to keep herself going, even if it wasn’t tarnish. He took a few steps toward the bed to grab the mug of tea, its water now cold.
”Would you like some more water? Maybe some silver?”
”No.”
It seemed she dropped all manners for this new mindset – Henry never learned of what Gabe had said about her being proper, so this was a bit of a shock for him.
Giving up, he started walking toward the door. ”I’ll check on you again soon. Bring you more water.”
Like before, there was no response and Henry closed the door behind him.
Ethiriel had opened up to Cesc, even if just for that brief moment. She cried for him, she spoke with him. Why wouldn’t she open up for Henry? It was becoming frustrating and he didn’t know what to do about it. Should he invite Cesc over again? Should he text him and let him know that Ethiriel was mostly unresponsive for him?
What good would that do, anyway?
Taking the mug to the kitchen, Henry rubbed his eyes with the palm of his free hand and grunted. He’d never been angry with Ethiriel and he never wanted to, but this was becoming too much. Once the tea was poured and the mug was placed in the sink, Henry pressed both hands against the counter and sunk his head between his shoulders.
This was too much.
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Posted: Mon Mar 21, 2016 9:32 am
QUEST
It was less than a minute after the cup hit the sink that the front door unlocked. The jingle of keys accompanied familiar footfalls and the sway of plastic bags. Gabe took a few casual steps into the kitchen before slowing down. He approached the kitchen island at a snail's pace with his eyes on Henry before stopping entirely and setting the bags down on the counter.
”Did something happen?”
Henry had heard the bags as Gabe approached and he spent the remaining time trying to fix his composure. There were no tears but his brother was met with a quick sniff before the nurse turned around and gave him a weak smile.
”It’s just too much,” he confessed, though his weak, lopsided smile remained as he rubbed his temple with his palm. ”I don’t know what to do.”
He wasn’t one to talk about his negative emotions so easily.
Gabe pressed a hand to the counter and leaned against it. He didn't sustain eye contact with Henry, or even keep looking at his face with his smile like that.
”It's always too much,” was said under his breath as Gabe turned to begin unloading the small collection of groceries. ”I can't tell you what should be done but I can tell you what not to do.”
”Do tell,” Henry said, his voice low as he ran his hand down his face.
As drinks were placed into the fridge, Gabe peeked over the edge of the door at his brother with a flat stare. ”Don't be mom.”
Giving pause, Henry sighed.
He remembered when Gabe was sick and their mother’s lack of patience with the healing process, or any part of it in general when she wasn’t immediately met with a positive answer. He remembered taking care of Gabe in his mother’s stead when she would get so frustrated with the lack of results. Yes, Henry remembered these well and he gently shook his head as he glanced away from his brother.
”I’m a nurse. It’s my job to be patient.”
But it didn’t make anything any easier.
”Easier said than done.” The refrigerator door closed and Gabe made for the remaining bag. ”You certainly look real patient right now.”
”Still not like mom,” Henry said, exhaustion clear in his voice. At least he was patient to Ethiriel’s face, unlike Clem with Gabe – the argument could have been made that it was only when the younger Knight were a kid, but even now Henry felt their mother’s attitude by association. ”There’s a difference between exhaustion and impatience.”
”And there's a difference between giving space and doing jack s**t,” Gabe shrugged with his back to Henry as he put a few cans into the pantry, ”You know what isn't going to work and what hasn't been working. I can't be the one to do anything now, I already ******** that one up.”
Grunting, Henry rested the small of his back against the counter and crossed his arms. ”The only person she’s talking to, it seems, is Cesc. The only thing I can think of would be to bring him back here, but she needs to open up to us again.
“She agreed to the hike with Candice in early spring, but she can’t keep herself cooped up here for that long.” He made a thoughtful noise. ”I wish she’d either accept a walk with me or at least open the window. It’s not a cure-all in the slightest, but some fresh air would do wonders.”
At mention of the stag, Gabe rolled his eyes. For all the upset she held over him on New Years, that was both a surprise and a frustration.
When he returned to the island, Gabe gathered the empty bags and balled them up, then rested his forearms against the counter. He was quiet a moment after Henry finished speaking, brows furrowed as he looked to the side. ”Make her walk her damn dog, maybe.”
”That’s a good idea,” Henry agreed, pushing himself away from the counter to lean on the island like Gabe with about two feet between them. ”Which reminds me…”
The nurse paused, resting his other elbow on the table and bringing his hands up to meet his chin. ”You two were getting close, it seemed like… You said doing nothing wouldn’t help, but now you’re doing the same. Why do you think you flubbed it so badly?”
Gabe's brows lifted just slightly, not enough to look surprised but it certainly cut the critical stare he was giving the wall. His response was delayed by a few more sweeps of the wall with his eyes. ”I was being mom.”
”Ah…”
Henry shifted, first to run his hand over his face and then coming to a stand entirely. He stared at his brother in thought, looking him over as his gaze wasn’t met.
”So you’ve noticed it, too. Or, rather, realized it.”
His brother scoffed but still didn't look at him. ”Am I late to that party?”
”No,” Henry said, a little softer than before. ”I just realized it today.”
Gabe pushed off of the counter at a casual pace. He returned to the pantry and tucked the plastic bags in with the rest of their collection. ”And how did we reach that conclusion?”
There was a brief pause as Henry thought over his words, still eyeing his brother. He brought a hand to his hairline and ran through as much hair as he could without pulling it out of its bun. ”I had a case of déjà vu.”
With his back to Henry, Gabe leaned a hand on one of the pantry shelves. ”Yeah.”
”Yeah...” Henry repeated, his eyes lowering to the floor. Would this be another chance? He had always wanted to do right by Gabe but it seemed like he would forever fall short, but was this time with Ethiriel a second chance?
No, that wasn’t it. If it were a second chance, this would be happening to Gabe again; not her. Or was this a second chance to prove himself helpful? Conflicting thoughts ran through his head as Henry stared at the floor in thought.
He then looked up, brows furrowed.
”What do you think we should do?”
Gabe took a slow breath, shaking his head. ”There's no 'we' with this anymore,” he turned only halfway towards Henry, enough to lean one arm on a lower pantry shelf; he ran a hand over his face, ”The best thing I can do is back off. It has to be you.”
That still wasn't quite an answer – he knew that.
”Like I said; I can't tell you what you should do, only what you shouldn't, but she isn't me.”
A sympathetic look washed over Henry’s face as he watched his brother. A touch of sadness raised his brows and he gave a short nod – he didn’t quite agree with Gabe over his backing off entirely, but much like Gabe couldn’t tell him what to do, Henry couldn’t do the same to his brother. Ethiriel had even yelled at Cesc when he visited, but that was reconciled almost on the spot. What made Gabe think forgiveness was impossible? Gabe wasn’t Ethiriel, and neither was Henry.
”Then what shouldn’t I do?”
”Don't act like fresh air will help as much as you think it will, for starters.” That tried and true sarcasm was back, though it was a little muted. Gabe tapped his knuckles lightly against his lips as he thought, while the other hand found its way into a pocket. ”If she agreed to go on a hike, don't ask about it again – she'll change her mind. Don't bother with silver, for now. Don't let her stay in the same bed sheets for another week. Don't try to make the room brighter.” at this, Gabe looked sidelong to Henry, ”Don't let her ignore the dog.”
The dog.
Henry hadn’t really thought twice about having to take care of Nedhudir in Ethiriel’s depression, having taken over feeding and brushing – how had he forgotten? He hadn’t taken the poor pup on a walk in so long, that task was taken up by Gabe despite his allergies, and it made him think twice about Gabe suggesting she take him. His hand mimicked Gabe’s at his lips, thinking over his brother’s words as he nodded along.
”Okay, I think this can be done. Thank you so much, Gabe…”
Henry offered him another weak smile, though they were far from reaching his eyes and his brows remained knit.
”Don't thank me yet,” warned Gabe, ”nothing's changed. That much is up to her.”
”Right,” Henry whispered, though loud enough for Gabe to hear. The nurse had helped her with depression once before, and back then they had a rocky relationship from the start. Now, he liked to think they had opened up to one another, and even with Ethiriel shutting everyone out – everyone except for Cesc, it seemed – Henry would do the best for her that he could. It hurt that she shunned him, when they had made so much progress in their time together, but this too shall pass, he figured.
Taking a few steps toward Gabe, Henry thought to give him a firm pat on the shoulder but held back – Ethiriel wasn’t the only one that needed their space. Instead, he shoved both hands into the pockets of his jeans and smiled a little more naturally.
”I still think you shouldn’t shut her out completely. You’re not the only one she yelled at.”
Gabe turned more towards his brother as he approached, though after no contact was initiated he seemed to relax a little. His brows met above the bridge of his nose. ”You think I'm backing off because she got mad?”
After a moment of thought, Henry raised his shoulders into a shrug and held it there for a moment. ”To be honest, I don’t even know the full story of what’s going on between you two. You were getting close from an outsider’s view and now just suddenly you’ve dropped all contact. Is it because she’s acting like you when you were younger?”
He looked ready and willing to respond, folding his arms and resting his back loosely against the pantry shelves, until Henry's actual question hit and Gabe's expression soured. ”I'm backing off,” he started, words drawing slowly as if to make it easier for Henry to understand, ”because I know the s**t I pulled doesn't help and I'm just going to do it again, at this rate.”
With a quiet huff, Gabe broke their eye contact. The sourness receded until it was replaced by something tired, neutral. ”This is too familiar,” he said, voice low, ”I don't like it.”
There was a moment of hesitation, but finally, Henry nodded; his own expression sobering. He sighed and shifted, backing up so he could rest his back against the kitchen island and crossed his arms as well. ”If you’re going to keep doing it, I understand. I just hope she does.”
Gabe shrugged loosely with his hands while he uncrossed his arms. ”I'm probably the last person she wants to talk to right now, so that's not for me to find out.”
”I’m going to give her some space for a couple of hours and then go talk to her,” Henry suggested, though his words trailed off as his thought process changed. Gabe suggested that he not be like mom – something he didn’t want to do, anyway – but… there was always dad. He always had great suggestions, though he was little for words. The nurse thought this over a moment before bringing himself back into the present.
He offered Gabe another gentle smile, though still tired. ”It’ll take some time, but I’ll figure this out.”
”Yeah, well,” Gabe pushed away from the pantry and made for the living room entrance, ”let's hope it doesn't take her as long as me – 'cause I'm still ******** up.”
Henry deflated at that, his shoulders slumping and his smile fell. He reached a hand out to Gabe’s back but once again fell short of contact and he allowed it to fall at his side after hovering for a moment. Clenching his fists, then unclenching, the nurse fidgeted for something to say, but nothing would come out. He knew his brother wasn’t happy in several senses of the word, but hearing that broke the man’s heart.
He just wanted his family to be happy.
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Posted: Tue Mar 22, 2016 9:49 am
QUEST
”Ethiriel? May I come in?” Henry asked from behind the closed door. There was a light shift, the sound of the sheets sliding around, and the nurse took that as permission to open the door at the very least. ”I have a favor I’d like to ask you.”
The Frei had uncovered herself, save for the sheet weighing down on her ribbon against the bed. Ethiriel didn’t change her gaze or expression, staring blankly up ahead of her. Her breathing was low and even.
Henry deflated a little, and after a moment of waiting he fully entered the room. ”I need you to leave the house for a bit. Nedhudir’s been missing you and I think it’d be good for you to walk him.”
Ethiriel’s brow twitched.
”Just around the block a couple of times and nothing more. He just needs his mommy, you know. He likes me but he’s your dog.”
With her hands flat on the sheets, Ethiriel took in another breath. She had been neglecting everyone in this state, she was fully aware, but somehow in her madness she had forgotten all about the collie under her care. Henry and Gabe were kind enough to take care of him while she was in this state, but immediately she felt immense guilt over not paying attention. She hadn’t even heard him claw at the door or anything – then again, he was so well trained, perhaps it was washed out of his nature. Furrowing her brows, she nodded and sat up in bed, though she made no attempts to look at Henry.
”Think you can do that for me?”
Wordlessly, Ethiriel nodded.
”Good,” Henry said, his voice matching his tired smile. As an attempt to help, he reached out for Ethiriel to help her out of bed but was met with the raising of her hand between them – a motion for him to stop. She readied herself within a few minutes, mostly needing to put on a coat, and she silently moved out into the hallway. Henry retrieved Nedhudir and handed him over, then escorted the two of them out and onto the porch.
It was once they were on the sidewalk, making their way away from the house, that Henry turned on his heel and dove straight for Ethiriel’s room.
The Frei’s room was hardly out of order; her clothing tucked carefully into a hamper and absolutely no clutter to be seen. It was easy enough to do laundry for Ethiriel – she never truly got her clothes dirty as she did not sweat or was particularly active in anything that would soil them. She never even needed a bath, honestly, as she was just a clean Raevan in general.
As Ethiriel wouldn’t be out for more than an hour, Henry preemptively shoved a large, fluffy comforter into the dryer to warm it up for when the Frei came home. After, he worked on stripping down her bed to replace the sheets. This was going to be an easier job than he first thought, Henry figured, as the room was much cleaner than anticipated; but then again, she hadn’t been out of bed in quite a while. With the wadded bedsheets in his hands, Henry paused and glanced around the room; it was always so bare… of course, a sightless girl dwelled in here so there was no real point in decorating beyond what she needed. So uncluttered. It almost felt unnatural to the nurse as he examined each bit of Ethiriel’s room, his brows knit lightly across his forehead.
Taking a few steps away from the bed, Henry made his way to the window – he thought twice about opening the blinds and letting light in, but with Gabe’s words of warning ringing in his head, he only moved them out of the way so he could crack open the window itself to let some air circulate the room.
A light breeze rolled in and Henry stood in place, enjoying the air.
With a quick stride, Henry bundled Ethiriel’s laundry with her bedsheets and took them into the back of the kitchen and threw them into the washer. Fixing the settings, he watched as the water poured into the large cylinder, then closed the lid.
Much like he had in the kitchen with Gabe the day prior, Henry hung his head between his shoulders as his arms propped him up against the washing machine, feeling the vibrations throughout his body. He was beyond thankful that Ethiriel had agreed to take care of Nedhudir again – the pup’s presence in her life was more of a blessing than either of them could possibly realize, and taking care of him would hopefully bring her back out of her depression, if only just a little.
Not only was he a seeing-eye-dog, he was a therapy pet.
His thoughts circled back to Gabe’s words, and in turn, Gabe, himself. Henry pushed himself off of the washer and stood, crossing his arms at his chest as he sighed. He and Ethiriel were so similar, the nurse was coming to realize, and in some ways it was distressing. Would she turn out jaded and bitter like his brother? Was it going to be different for her this time? Was she not going to come out of this like she had last time?
They were making such strides, too. She was improving daily. After her surgery, Henry had never seen the tea Frei so happy or jovial in his life – even if he had missed the snowball fight, in daily life Ethiriel had improved greatly. Why was this so hard?
Why was she punishing herself?
With a heavy sigh, Henry left the kitchen and wandered into the hall, stopping at the closet before the bathroom and dug out some new bedsheets for the Frei’s comfort. Picking out the softest ones he could fine, the nurse made his way back to Ethiriel’s room. Changing the bed didn’t take long – as Henry smoothed out the sheets, he stood and examined his work with his hands at his hips.
”Do you think I'm rubbing off on her?”
Those words still haunted Henry. He wanted to say he hoped not, that Ethiriel would come out of this and improve further, as she had the first time, but… just thinking in terms of being like Gabe was the opposite of getting better, it made his heart sink in his chest. He never wanted to think that way about his brother – he loved him too much for that. Even if Gabe was rude at times, and his personality clashed with most others, he was one of the most important people in Henry’s life. He couldn’t just turn his cheek like that. Sure, he hoped Ethiriel improved, that she would come out of this for the better, but… With Gabe being so level headed, was it entirely a bad thing? Why did he have to put himself down like that?
Thinking about Gabe saying that hurt.
Growing up had been hard for both Gabe and himself. Gabe was sick so often for so long, and Henry spent most of his free time taking care of him. Why was Gabe so bitter toward Henry when all he had ever wanted to do was take care of him? Henry wanted him well, dammit, and now that Ethiriel was acting much the same, would he somehow screw this up as well?
He just… wanted to help…
And help…
Gabe… Henry could only assume about his brother’s relationship with the Frei, but they seemed to have gotten along well – similar wavelengths. They were both calm and collected, for the most part, and Gabe had hardly ever rejected ideas of helping Ethiriel around the house or if the nurse were busy. Of course, they had started out rocky, but Henry took into account that Ethiriel wasn’t in the best spirits upon coming into the Knight family household. Even then, they had formed some sort of bond and that much Henry could tell. Now that Gabe was pushing her away and vice versa… what was to become of Henry’s little family? He knew Gabe would be leaving eventually, but with he and Ethiriel in odds… would he ever come visit? Did he even make visits to mom and dad’s? With this little tiff, would Gabe seclude himself away from the family entirely?
He said he didn’t want to help.
Before Henry could lose himself in thought too much longer, he heard the clacking of Nedhudir’s claws on the front porch, and the clumsy fumbling of Ethiriel reaching for the door handle as she juggled the leash and phone. The nurse righted himself, giving the bed another once over before making his way out into the hall; just in time for Ethiriel to let herself in.
She noticed his ring but did not acknowledge him any further than a simple nod of her head. Henry watched as Ethiriel shoved her phone into her pocket and felt along the walls for the second door on the right – to her surprise, it was open and waiting for her.
”How was your walk?” Henry asked, his voice strangely timid.
Ethiriel’s eyes widened at his tone and she stopped at the door, her hand resting on the frame. She could already feel the air from the window as it poured in and her eyes narrowed, though she didn’t say anything about the breeze. ”Uneventful.”
A deep sadness filled Henry’s eyes at Ethiriel’s emotional distance, and he glanced down at Nedhudir instead. ”So long as it was a good walk…”
The Frei nodded as she finally entered her room. However, as Henry turned to check the drier after having heard it go off, Ethiriel let out a confused sound. He peaked into the room and saw her fumbling around her bed for her comforter, and the nurse couldn’t help but smile just a tad.
”Just a second.”
He made a short trek into the kitchen to fetch Ethiriel’s blanket, and within seconds he was back in her room with her. Henry snapped his fingers over the bed for Nedhudir to jump, to which the pup obeyed, then waited for just a moment to allow Ethiriel to make her way next to the collie. Once they were settled, Henry threw the warm comforter over the both of them and smiled, though the Frei couldn’t see it. He waited for a moment, for a sign of contentment, and eventually Ethiriel gave out a sigh that sounded more pleased than he had heard her in so long.
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Posted: Wed Mar 23, 2016 9:29 am
QUEST
It had been quiet in the house since the New Year rang. Ethiriel never left her room, Gabe had become more reclusive as well… Henry found himself making new ways to entertain himself, or rather, going back to old ways. He had been back to work a couple of times since his impromptu vacation ended, but to his luck, the higher-ups were kind enough to tone down on his schedule until things evened out. At this rate, however, the nurse couldn’t tell if things were ever go back to ‘normal.’
Ethiriel’s most recent checkup had been done, leaving her with hot water and tarnished silver – every time the nurse went in he hoped she would feed from the silver, but each time he went in it was only the water being touched. It frustrated Henry, but more than anything it made him sad that she was doing this to herself. How could he help? Why did he feel so useless right now?
Why was this all going south so quickly?
Plugging the cord into the speaker, Henry placed his sound-canceling earphones over his ears and strummed the first chord. It had been so long since he’d last played his electric guitar – mostly out of respect for the original quiet the house usually held – but this time, he needed that sound. With his eyes closed, he played a few more chords before diving headfirst into a song to tune everything out.
However, his mind was all but quiet.
April 10th, 1996
The sound of cardboard pieces shuffling in a larger cardboard box could be heard as Henry quickly made his way down the hall. It had been around a year since Gabe had been overcome by a nearly perpetual state of illness – after the first bout of pneumonia, it just seemed to be one thing after another from constant head colds to ear infections and things in between – but Henry did everything in his power to take care of his little brother at all costs. He hated going to school anymore with the rate Gabe had to stay home, but with his mind made up he knew it would be necessary.
Mom and dad could take care of Gabe when he couldn't, and vice-versa. Unfortunately none of them could be around all of the time, and that meant the younger Knight was sometimes left to his own devices while recovering. In such a quiet house with no one else and little energy to leave his room, it must have been a lonely time – not to mention boring.
”Hey, Gabe!” Henry called as he knocked gently on his brother’s door. ”Wanna put together a puzzle? Or we could play games again!”
There was a tired murmur from beyond the crack; it was only ajar, as was the norm if Gabe was trying to rest. ”Um-- okay.” He sounded groggy, as though just waking from a nap, but there was interest in the nine-year-old's croaky voice.
At Gabe’s response, Henry opened the door ajar so that if the lights were out, it wouldn’t be so painful for his brother’s eyes. His brows were knit in sympathy at Gabe’s voice, but his smile was bright in comparison. ”I got a new puzzle,” he announced, stepping into the room fully. ”I found a Star Wars one we don’t have!”
The room wasn't dark but the curtains were drawn and the light dampened. Gabe pulled himself to sit in his bed, brown hair fluffy and a bit of a mess. He was pale and his eyes were tired, in fact he looked quite pitiful as he sat there, but at Henry's entry and the news of his brother's discovery Gabe's brows rose and a small, curious smile crept across his face.
In order to make room for Henry at the end of the twin bed, Gabe pulled his legs up and sat pretzel style by his pillows. ”What's this one?” he reached for the puzzle box to pull the front cover close enough to examine.
”It’s based on one of the posters that we don’t have,” Henry explained, handing over the box as he sat down, one leg hanging off while the other was crossed against it. ”I was thinking that maybe we can put it on a board and glue it to hang on the wall!”
Held in his younger brother's hands, the box looked much larger. The cover of the box, and the puzzle therein, was of a rarer from 1982 for The Empire Strikes back. Gabe's eyes were glued to it for a moment before he looked at Henry, mouth open a touch. ”We can do that?”
”Yep! It’s pretty easy! Just gotta get some cardboard or poster paper!” Henry cheered, leaning over to look at the box, himself, then back to Gabe. I figured it’d be a pretty neat surprise for you!”
Gabe's curious look turned into a fond one when he cast his eyes back down to the puzzle.
He then sat up straight, propping himself up with his hands on his knees. ”And don’t tell mom or dad, but… I got you a snack!” Henry whispered, leaning in closer again with shifting eyes before pulling a bag of sour gummy worms out of his back pocket. ”Just between us!” He then placed a finger over his lopsided grin.
The oblong box was set on Gabe's lap so he could take the package. He looked between it, Henry's face, and the bedroom door before giving a small chuckle and mimicking the placement of his finger. With that, Gabe tucked the bag of gummy worms between his pillows for safe keeping. This treat wouldn't do much harm, if any, but their mom was insistent about Gabe eating as healthy as possible as an added cushion between all of these illnesses.
”Thanks,” Gabe smiled when he sat up from hiding the treats. His hands immediately went back to the puzzle's box, small thin fingers prying the top off with excitement in his eyes – even if it was stifled somewhat from tiredness. ”Can we start soo--”
Gabe's hands covered his mouth as his words were cut off by several violent coughs; he gasped sharply between them to catch his breath,
Immediately, Henry was at Gabe’s side with his hand gently patting his brother’s back. His expression had sobered, hardened nearly, as he rubbed between Gabe’s shoulders. Worry painted his features, continuing his idle motions until the boy would stop, and once he had he gently pat Gabe’s arm.
”You okay…?” Henry asked rhetorically. Letting out a quick huff through his nose, he lowered himself to eye level with Gabe.
Gabe nodded – slowly. He let his head hang and kept his mouth covered while he breathed, shallow. Once or twice there was a tremor, the threat of another cough, but after a few moments Gabe normalized and let his hands fall to his lap. His shoulders were slumped.
”Can we start?”
The underlying enthusiasm Gabe had before his fit scarcely remained; in its place was renewed exhaustion and a slight rasp in his throat that was difficult to shake. He looked at the puzzle through mussed bangs, that hopeful stare replaced by quiet determination.
Henry stared for another moment, assessing Gabe, before giving a firm nod and setting himself back on the bed after another couple of gentle pats to his back. ”Yeah… yeah, we can.”
Leaning onto the bed, Henry reached for the top of the box in Gabe’s hands to set aside.
September 24th, 1999
The dining table was set neatly, with both of the boys seated side by side at one end and their parents in the same arrangement at the other. It was lasagna tonight which, while not his favorite, Gabe was usually enthusiastic enough about. Everyone but the younger son was already well into their plateful; his was maybe a quarter eaten, poked at dully with his fork while pleasant conversation took up the table between Henry and their mother.
”Doing alright?” their father asked quietly when there was enough of a lull that he wouldn't interrupt their discussion.
Gabe was leaned forward in his chair, elbow on the table and cheek propped up in his hand. He stared absently at the meal and shrugged. Before Clementine could interject, as she looked at Gabe's plate, he said ”not really hungry” with a small rasp in his voice.
Henry, while partially preoccupied with his meal, turned to look at his brother with raised yet concerned brows. He swallowed before reaching his arm out and gently rubbing between Gabe’s shoulders comfortingly. ”Is it your throat?”
At Henry's concern, Gabe hunched forward slightly and let his fork sit still at the edge of the plate. He shrugged. ”Just not hungry...”
Their mother set her own silverware down, resting hand over hand upon the table to look at her youngest son behind the rim of her low sitting glasses with upturned brows. ”Did you eat your lunch today?”
”Yeah.”
”All of it?”
”Most of it...”
Worry had immediately taken over Henry as he pushed his chair a little away from the table, his free hand landing on the ball of Gabe’s shoulder while the other continued to rub circles against his little brother’s back.
Clementine sighed. Gabe sounded dreadfully unenthusiastic and the rasp in his throat certainly sounded like something was threatening to start up for him. When he set his fork down entirely and leaned back in his chair, asked ”Can I be excused?” without looking up at her, or any of them, Clem looked taken aback.
Frowning, she looked to her right at Jonas who was still picking at his own food but glancing around the table – not interrupting. Clementine looked to Henry, as well, casting him an uncertain and worried stare.
”Do you need any help to your room?” Henry asked, pushing his chair even further away as he attempted to stand, kneeling beside Gabe as if he were in danger of falling. The older Knight brother looked worriedly at both of his parents before returning his attention to his brother. ”Anything you need?”
This time, Gabe shied away from Henry; he shrunk back and raised his shoulders. ”I'm fine,” he whispered, voice strained as he pushed out his own chair and stood with little issue.
”Yes,” Clementine finally answered after a delay. She stood in front of her chair and reached over to pull Gabe's plate towards her. ”I'll wrap this up, you can finish it later.”
At Gabe’s timid dismissal, Henry reluctantly pulled himself away from his younger brother – admittedly a little hurt. ”Oh, okay…” he mustered, sitting back into his seat without pulling it back toward the table. His eyes never left Gabe, even as their mother gave permission to leave and took his plate. ”If there’s anything you need, just lemme know, okay?”
He nodded to Henry's offer but didn't look at his older brother while pushing his chair in, nor at anyone else at the table before quietly making his way toward his bedroom.
With another sigh, Clementine sat herself back down. Her chin came to rest in her hand. Beside her, Jonas set his utensils down as well and watched Gabe leave. Only when they heard the faint click of his door closing down the hall did any conversation resume.
”He's been more quiet lately, hasn't he?” she asked softly, between the two remaining at the table.
The elder brother didn’t look away from the hall, even as the door clicked shut and their mother began conversation. Nodding, he turned his face toward his parents while his eyes remained locked to the side. ”Yeah… I wish there was more I could do for him…” Henry admitted, finally tearing his eyes away to stare down at his plate. The last thing he wanted was for Gabe to get bad again, but it seemed more and more like it was going to happen anyway. Looking up to his parents, he offered a tired smile that fell rather quickly.
They returned it as best they could, though his mother's fell just the same. ”I can't remember the last time he went over to a friend's house,” Clementine mumbled against her fingers, ”and it's been ages since he brought anyone over here...”
Jonas let out a deep hum of agreement.
”Our grades are so far apart I never get to see if he hangs out with anyone at school…” Henry admitted. He had set his fork down long ago and he stared down at it, trying to decide whether he wanted to continue his meal or not. Deciding on the latter for now, he rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples before resting his chin on his knuckles. ”I hate not knowing if he’s okay in class.”
Nodding slowly, her eyes drifted back towards the hall. ”Maybe that's what he needs... If he's not feeling sick, some time with his friends could do a lot of good.”
As if struck by inspiration, Henry quickly pushed himself away from the table – however, realizing his rude and sudden movements, he laughed and apologized to his parents with high shoulders. ”I’ll go see what he thinks of that idea!” he cheered softly, not wanting to raise his voice to either of his parents. ”Supper was great, mom, thank you.”
With his long strides, it was well less than a minute before Henry stood outside of Gabe’s door and he gave a gentle rap. ”Gabe?” he asked tentatively, taking a glance toward the bathroom door to make sure the light wasn’t on.
There was a plastic-sounding click beyond the door and a very soft thump against the adjacent wall. ”Yeah?” Gabe answered dully.
Opening the door just a crack, Henry popped his head in and gave his brother an apologetic smile. ”Hey, bud… how’re you feeling?”
Gabe was laying atop his made bed, legs crossed at the ankles, with a Nerf gun in hand. He didn't look at Henry when he came in, instead readying to shoot another foam dart at one of the posters on his wall. Shrugging, Gabe fired and the dart hit the wall squarely but didn't stick.
When no attempt to meet his eyes was made, Henry deflated a tad before walking fully into the room. He watched as Gabe fired a couple more rounds in silence before squaring his shoulders and bringing back his cheerfulness.
”We were thinking… maybe it’d be good to invite some of your friends over this weekend,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets as to not fidget with them. ”We wanted to see who you’d like to invite over! We haven’t seen your friends in quite some time.”
That made him pause but there was no noticeable shift in Gabe's expression, which was already worn as uninterested. After a few beats of silence, he shot another dart. ”Nobody.”
Henry paused. “…Nobody?” he questioned, as if he had heard wrong.
”Nobody,” Gabe repeated, tone flat and voice tired.
Brows furrowed, Henry stared incredulously. Nobody? ”You don’t want to see anyone…?” he asked, clearly at a loss. What did he mean, ‘nobody?’ He used to love hanging around friends at every chance. And his voice… Even when sick, Gabe seemed at least a little eager over certain things, but he sounded so listless and uncaring. Henry couldn’t explain it, but it hurt. ”Aren’t your friends worried?”
One more round shot off before there was only a short clicking sound from the toy gun's chamber; empty. Gabe didn't bother to get up and find the darts he already fired or reload it; he set it down on the bed beside him and stared up at the ceiling. ”They don't care.”
”Of course they care…” Henry said, deflating. What was going on here? Had Gabe looked up at Henry he would have seen a foreign expression on his brother’s face – at least, the distraught part as confusion mixed in. ”What makes you say that, Gabe?”
He shook his head, still avoidant of eye eye contact. ”They don't want to hang out with me,” Gabe explained; he rolled carefully onto his side, back towards Henry, ”I can't do anything fun.”
After a short delay he added, quieter, ”I don't want to talk about it.”
”Gabe…” Henry said softly, staring at the back of his brother’s head. That last sentence hit him hard in the heart – normally he was so eager to talk to him, about anything, but now he was shutting his older brother out. The elder brother’s eyebrows knit upward as he let out a defeated sigh. He rubbed his shoulder before hesitantly taking a step back. ”I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of what else to do.
This time, the younger brother's only response was a weak shrug.
November 16th, 2002
Gabe…? Henry whispered as he gently knocked on the door. He peeked in after a moment of silence to see if perhaps his brother had fallen asleep, but the room was empty and chilly, as if he hadn’t been in there for a while. With raised brows, Henry pushed himself away from the door to take a look at the bathroom – there were no lights showing in the crack of the door and Henry let out a soft huff in thought.
Their parents had long fallen asleep with it being close to midnight. Henry had attempted to sleep prior, but with Gabe’s practically constant illness, the older Knight always made frequent checks on him just to make sure things were okay.
He didn’t know what he’d do if… No, he couldn’t think of that.
”Gabe…!” he whispered again, searching the house – he was careful not to speak or creak the floor in front of their parents’ room.
In the kitchen, Henry had finally noticed that the inner wooden door was open just a crack and one of the small porch lights was lit. It was so cold outside, what was he doing there? He thought. Taking a quick glance back into the other room, the nurse-to-be pulled the door open fully to step outside. If it weren’t for how creaky the storm door was, Gabe might not have heard him.
”Gabe?”
The younger Knight fumbled as Henry exited. A cloud of chilled breath drifted from Gabe as he leaned forward, back turned; he covered his mouth with the crook of his arm to stifle a few short coughs, then glanced over his shoulder at his brother.
”What are you doing up?” he whispered harshly.
”I could ask the same thing—“ said Henry as he knelt beside his brother, his hand resting squarely on his back. ”Are you okay…?”
Gabe was quick to slip away from Henry's hand, then. He stood and moved to the porch edge, more wisps and puffs of air trailing after him in Aekea's pre-winter chill. ”I'm fine, I just wanted some air.”
Henry’s hand pulled away at Gabe’s sudden movement.
Still with his back to Henry, Gabe did a double take over his shoulder, as if he were surprised his brother was still standing there. ”Go back to bed,” he urged expectantly.
”Gabe! What—“ Henry started. However, once he noticed that the puffs of breath were thicker than his own, his brows furrowed and he took another step forward. The frigid air masked the scent of nicotine at first but it grew more obvious as his nose adjusted to the cold. ”Gabe, are you smoking? he asked, his own voice becoming harsh. ”What in the heck do you think you’re doing?”
He took another step forward and forced Gabe to turn around, and lo and behold, a cigarette burned between his younger brother’s fingers. Gabe was quick to push against Henry, to put some distance between them, but it did little good.
”Gabe! This is not okay!” Henry said as he grabbed the cigarette and threw it to the ground before stomping on it. Immediately it was picked up again so that it wouldn’t be forgotten in the back yard for their parents to find. ”You’re fifteen! And sick! And it’s so cold out here! Do you want your condition to get worse?!”
With a hand held face level, Gabe hissed, ”Will you shut up? You're gonna wake them up--”
”What are you thinking? Henry hissed in return, holding the butt of the cigarette squarely between their faces. [colors=eagreen]”For one, it’s too cold out here for you, regardless of what you’re doing to your lungs! How long have you even been doing this?”
Throwing his arms into the air, Henry finally stepped away from his brother with a huff. ”You know what? It doesn’t matter! You need to stop!” he hissed again. He was about to ask for the pack but knew that, no matter how many Gabe had left, it wouldn’t be easily handed over.
It was rare to see Henry livid – and he certainly was. After all of this work to take care of Gabe, this was what he did…
Even in the face of Henry's uncharacteristic anger, Gabe's didn't miss a beat. ”Don't ******** lecture me, alright?” With a quick swat of his brother's hand, the stamped out cigarette landed somewhere dark. ”It's my shitty body and it's already ruined so it doesn't make a goddamn difference what I do to it.”
At the slap to his hand, Henry lost it.
”Do you want to die??” he questioned. Gabe’s cussing surprised Henry, but for now there were more pressing matters. ”Don’t you think at all about the people who love you?”
Before Henry's question even finished, Gabe moved away from his brother and pulled his jacket tighter. Thin legs took him toward the porch steps, rather than the back door.
Staring, Henry scoffed. ”Where are you going…?” The more he spoke, the weaker his voice became. He wasn’t used to being hard on his brother – or rather, anyone – and it was already taking it out of him.
”Taking a walk,” snapped Gabe.
Despite what little effort was made, their parent's bedroom window lit up as Gabe began to cross the yard.
”Gabe, no—“ Henry said, almost apologetically. ”It’s late and it’s cold, please, just come back inside—“ and he looked to the house as soon as the lights came on, fretting.
”I'm not gonna drop dead from walking,” Gabe seethed, continuing in his pace. It was hard to hear from the growing distance but the quiet of the suburbs at night carried it enough, as he added, ”Just leave me alone.”
And that was the break.
Had Henry been more melodramatic, he would have clutched his shirt above his heart and stepped back, but instead he visibly deflated. Watching after his brother, he kept his eye trained until Gabe rounded the corner and left him behind.
Gabe’s dismissal and Henry’s ebbing anger tore at his insides as the man turned back to face the house. Their parents’ light was still on, but he didn't notice either of them moving until more lights turned on in the hall. Henry took a step toward the door, his foot on the steps of the porch, before taking another glance back out toward the street to fruitlessly search for his brother.
. . .
The nurse sighed as he ran his fingers over the guitar’s strings, deflating on top of the amp he had been sitting on. Pulling off his headphones, Henry glanced toward his own bedroom door in thought.
Thinking back so far, he couldn’t believe he had never really thought too hard on Gabe’s change in attitude over the years. Or how doting he, himself, had been. Was it partially his fault that his brother’s personality had changed so drastically? Was it his fault that he never approached for help anymore? Did he do too little?
Did he do too much…?
Setting the headphones down, Henry stood and stretched his back and arms. He allowed them to fall to his sides limply as he continued to stare at the door with a strange expression – upset, confused and discouraged.
How had he let his brother down so badly?
He then passed a glance to his desk – papers were neatly stacked to one side and pens decorated the top haphazardly. There was little of interest there, but Henry took two long steps to sit into his chair and deflate. What could he do to help his brother? Was it too late? Was everything for naught? Henry sighed again as he idly flipped through some of the papers.
Maybe dad would know what to do.
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Posted: Thu Mar 24, 2016 7:53 am
QUEST
”Thanks for coming on, dad.”
The phone call had been made the previous day, asking Jonas out for lunch – both to spend time together as well as talk about recent events. Ethiriel’s depression was like déjà vu for Henry: so similar to Gabe when he changed, yet different at the same time. He didn’t explain much to his father past wanting to talk about a few things, Gabe included, but Jonas didn’t mind as he would have liked to spend some quality time together regardless.
At the diner’s booth, Henry smoothed his hair back against his head, pulled tight in a top knot to keep out of the way. He smiled tiredly at his father before resting his arms against the table, palms down.
”Sorry it was so sudden.”
Jonas shook his head, thick beard hiding the purse of his lips. ”It's no trouble,” he assured Henry as he pulled the menu over to begin browsing. ”Holding up okay?”
Henry couldn’t help but smile, nodding his head gently. ”You could say that,” he chuckled, mimicking his father and looking over the menu, himself. ”How’s mom doing?”
”Worried,” he answered with gruff sincerity, ”but managing.”
It was hard to see through the beard but, even as small a chuckle as Henry gave, it tugged at the corners of his lips. ”How's the house?” A gentle way to ask about all of the occupants involved.
Henry sank a little in his chair at the question, relaxing into a sigh. In all honesty, he didn’t want to leave the house today just to make sure Ethiriel was fine – Gabe wasn’t speaking with her anymore, at least not for now, so she was left with Nedhudir on her own.
”Ethiriel’s going through another depression… her vision failed, she’s back to being blind and not taking it well. Gabe… well, he’s being Gabe.”
Gabe… Even still, despite everything, he still constantly worried over his brother. He was an adult, he could take care of himself (Henry was trying to come to terms with this), and he didn’t need to be checked in on constantly. He was a man, Henry had to remind himself.
”I don’t know what to do about Ethiriel… she’s agreed to go on a hike with Candice in the spring, but she hardly leaves her bed –“
Jonas murmured as he listened, no longer looking through the menu. ”Spring is a ways off... but that's good.”
It was something.
”What have you tired?”
”Well,” Henry started, his voice drifting just a tad as he glanced out the window for a moment –though his gaze returned to his father. ”The normal stuff, I guess: going on walks, talking to friends… She doesn’t really want to be around anyone. I even tried distancing myself like Gabe suggested but it… it just doesn’t feel right. One of her friends was able to help her a little, but she’s still shutting me out. I really hope the time with Candice helps… She is a counselor, after all…”
Henry sighed.
His father's brows rose curiously above tired green eyes. ”Gabe suggested something?” His voice was always low, somewhat soft, but this time it carried a small amount of awe.
Jonas’ surprise did manage to bring a slight smile to Henry’s lips as he met his father’s eyes. It had surprised Henry in the beginning, too, but even though he had listened, it didn’t help. ”Yeah… She’s kind of freaking him out. First time I’ve seen him clearly bothered by something specific in a while.”
That made his brow crease. ”Freaking him out...?”
”He asked if he was rubbing off on her.”
Another murmur left the man and he cast his eyes down at the table. With a moment of thought, Jonas looked back up at Henry, uncertain. ”Do you think so?”
Leaning against his elbows on the table, Henry hid his mouth between his fingers and sighed. To be honest, he wasn’t sure at all what he thought. This was so similar to back when they were kids, yet it was different – a different set of circumstances and different people. ”Maybe to a degree,” he mused. ”Gabe was more prone to leaving the house… but, then again, Ethiriel’s back to being blind so she may feel hindered again. She just stays in bed all day – she texts one of her friends relatively frequently, as far as I’m aware, so at least she’s not shutting herself out entirely.”
However… Henry knew she was talking to Cesc… was she talking to Cruz, as well? The thought of the croc being shut out as well bothered the nurse further.
”Wonder why he would think that, then...”
”He probably sees the parallels… I’m sure he wasn’t blind to how he was as a kid.”
There was a brief lull in conversation as the waitress approached, both Jonas and Henry gave their drink orders and asked for more time with the menu before she walked away and they could continue talking.
Henry sighed, ”Gabe was in his room all the time when he wasn’t out of the house, he wouldn’t eat with us and he shut everyone out. Ethiriel’s doing much the same – Cesc, her friend, had to convince her to at least have some water. She hasn’t left the room in days… at least, not for very long. I try to convince her to go on walks with Nedhudir, but she only goes if she’s alone with him…
“And she said, when asked why she wasn’t taking care of herself, that she ‘wasn’t dead, yet.’”
While Henry explained, his father rest his hands over his mouth and leaned against the table. The bushy mustache covering his lip twitched as he listened. At the last addition, Jonas bowed his head and looked at the table.
”Similar...” he confirmed softly, “Is she-- is Ethiriel making herself sick?” Jonas' eyes creased with worry for the raevan.
”I’m not entirely sure,” Henry confessed, sitting about the same way that Jonas was. There was a beat of silence between the two before the nurse took a deep breath and continued, ”She’s still not feeding other than a little bit of water at a time and the only thing I usually hear from her room is her talking to Cesc. She’s doing a little better since he came over, but she’s still just… surviving, rather than living.”
Their server returned before his father had a chance to respond; so as not to distract from the serious conversation for long, Jonas ordered something simple without browsing the menu further – just a burger – and Henry a salad. Once their menus were retrieved and orders written, they resumed.
”It's hard,” he prefaced as he adjusted in his seat, ”but... it sounds like she has a better support network than Gabe did.” His father sounded weary as he admitted this. Still, it wasn't for nothing that Ethiriel had friends to fall back on, even one, or a pet to seek for comfort who would offer no judgment or unwarranted advice.
”She fought it at first. I heard her yelling at Cesc to leave her alone, but he somehow got through to her…” While neither Gabe nor himself could. Henry looked obviously defeated the more he thought of Ethiriel fighting him, fighting his help like Gabe had once he was a teen.
While his smile wasn’t forced, it was certainly weak as he looked back up to his dad. ”I just don’t know if I should keep distancing myself from her. I try to leave her alone but I just… worry. So much.”
Like he had with Gabe.
”Son,” Jonas folded his hands on the tabletop and leaned back; his green eyes were honed in on his old dried knuckles, ”giving space... isn't abandonment. Shouldn't feel like it, either.” He reached up to scratch his peppered beard. ”With your brother, you know... I think-- he wanted to be allowed to make mistakes. We were too protective. Still are.” Their mother, especially.
Clearing his throat, the older man crosses his arms against the table and leaned forward to be heard more easily over the growing noise in the diner as more people filtered in. ”Nothing is going to make it all go away... but-- with him, what I think helped a little... was just being there. No questions. Not talking. He could talk if he wanted to.”
With a low hum, Jonas frowned. ”If they're going down the same path... maybe that'll help her, too.”
Henry listened closely and carefully to his father, leaning over the table much like he had. There was a spark in the nurse, a realization. His dad was right. They were all too protective of Gabe and, in the end, pushed him away. Leaning back in his chair, Henry’s arms slid against the table and softly fell into his lap as he nodded in agreement.
He had never really thought to just sit in silence, to be a silent support group. Even now it would probably help his bond with his younger brother, mend what he had torn, and the same with Ethiriel. With another small scoff, Henry looked up to his dad and smiled, his expression still exhausted.
”I’ll give that a shot. Thanks, dad.”
His father mimicked the tired smile, worry lines creasing across his face. Jonas leaned forward and held Henry's shoulder, gave it a soft squeeze. ”Let me know if it helps...” Patience was key, here.
”You’ll be the first to hear,” Henry chuckled, bringing up his own hand to hold gently to Jonas’ wrist. He hoped to god that this would work – Ethiriel had been so depressed when she first came into his care, he couldn’t bear seeing her like this again, especially when she had been in such high spirits after her surgery.
Shortly after, the waitress returned with their meals and refills for their drinks. Henry was quick to thank her as the woman left, taking up a fork to dig in.
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Posted: Fri Mar 25, 2016 11:08 am
QUEST
It had been a few hours since Henry’s meeting with their father at the café – it was dark out and the neighborhood was silent as usual, all outside activity had ceased. He had waited to speak with his brother, wanting the right time to come but the longer he waited, the more anxious it made him. He paused outside of Gabe’s room, the doorknob clasped in his hand. However, he pulled away and knocked, instead.
”Gabe? It’s me.”
A dull squeak of plastic from behind the door followed by a soft thump against the wooden desk. ”Yeah,” Gabe responded neutrally enough that it was safe to assume entry was allowed.
Again Henry hesitated, holding the handle for just a moment before allowing himself in. Gabe had immediately met the nurse’s eyes, Henry’s being about as worn and tired as his brother’s usually were. ”Hey,” he said, finally, before stepping in fully and silently closed the door fully. ”Got a minute?”
Gabe leaned his elbow on the arm of his swiveling chair and rested his mouth against his knuckles. It only took him a moment to look his brother over and assess before gesturing limply for him to come in fully.
At Gabe’s confirmation, Henry took a few steps toward Gabe’s bed and sat at the foot, fully facing his brother. There was a moment of silence between the two: Henry assessing his brother’s body language to perhaps gauge his current mood, but as per usual he seemed listless and just… there. Perhaps he had been interrupted.
When Henry sat, Gabe turned the chair more – not to face the nurse completely but only slightly off-center so he could still look at his brother sidelong. His posture was casual, one leg crossed atop his knee, other arm resting limply on the arm of the chair; even his expression, though equally tired, wasn't quite as closed off as usual.
”I’d like to say ‘I’m sorry.’” he started, watching Gabe’s expression as he let the words sit.
From that, his brother's brows set low as his eyes narrowed. He scrutinized Henry a moment before asking, ”For what?”
”I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately and I had a conversation with dad today,” Henry started, giving pause to see how Gabe would react to the news; it wasn’t their mother, so hopefully it would wash over well. Finally, he continued, ”I’ve been overbearing for far too long. You’re an adult and can live your own life, and I’d like to apologize for constantly butting in.
“Same with Ethiriel. I plan on talking to her later, too.”
At first, there was no change in his expression – not from the mention of their father nor the acknowledgment of Henry's fault, not even the apology itself. It was only after that Gabe seemed to ease back into his previously neutral state, or at least something close to it. He continued to eye Henry with some amount of skepticism in silence for a few moments.
”What did you talk about?”
Despite fidgeting with his hands, Henry’s expression was calm and, while not exactly neutral, didn’t show his nervousness. Exhaling through his nose, the nurse answered, ”I wanted to see what he thought of the situation with Ethiriel and what we could do. It cycled into talking about us growing up, and all this time I’ve been smothering you under the guise of help, and I’m sorry.”
From there, Gabe's brows rose while his eyes remained heavy; it was a sarcastic sort of look, a judgmental one that said all too plainly 'I could have told you that', but it didn't spread to Gabe's mouth like it normally might have and remained unsaid.
Instead, he slouched in the chair and folded his hands loosely over his middle; Gabe looked to the side, avoiding Henry's eyes for now. ”So, now what?” His voice was low, calm, and a touch uncertain.
”I’m going to let you do your own thing,” Henry said plainly, continuing to look in Gabe’s eyes despite him having turned away – he knew that look all too well and knew that the man was holding back. ”I’m going to stop policing you on everything that isn’t my business and I’m going to let you live the way you want. I’m going to offer the same thing to Ethiriel.”
”Mm.”
Gabe seemed to accept that; at the very least he didn't rebuke it or look sour. He turned more in his chair, back to facing the door but his head was turned to the wall that separated his and Ethiriel's rooms. ”We'll see how that goes.”
Henry deflated at how dismissive that comment seemed, but he kept his ground. ”Even smoking, as much as I hate it. You can do what you want.”
His own gaze remained on Gabe.
In one steady motion, Gabe's heel dug against the floor and turned him back enough to look at Henry. There he stayed for a moment, quiet, and when he spoke again his voice remained steady. ”Do you how many times I've tried to quit?”
This seemed to surprise Henry as his brows rose and his expression changed. Giving a gentle shake of his head, ‘no,’ he rested the back of his hands against his legs.
”Four.” One hand against his lap counted, ”Senior year, a year after I graduated, two years after that, and a month or so before I had to come here.”
Henry’s expression sobered as Gabe counted down and he leaned back. Propping himself up with his hands, he took a deep breath and said, ”Do… do you want help? To quit?”
”I'll figure it out,” he dismissed flatly, ”My point is, just because you're not seeing results doesn't mean things aren't getting worked on. It doesn't mean I like spending money that I need elsewhere to suck down ash, so I guarantee she doesn't like what she's doing either.” That, however, wouldn't make it any easier to stop.
Lifting his chin, the nurse’s mouth hung open slightly as Gabe made his point. He nodded, thinking it over for just a moment before responding.
”I see what you mean,” he said, raising a hand to lightly scratch at his chin. There was definitely no way Ethiriel could have enjoyed what she was going through, especially when someone was able to get through to her – even if it wasn’t himself. Sitting more upright, Henry dropped his hand back down to his leg.
”I’d still like to apologize to her, as well.”
”That's up to you,” Gabe stared at the floor while using his heel as an anchor to slowly sway his seat. ”Nothing happened while you were out, so--” Without looking, he gestured toward Ethiriel's room, as if inviting Henry to do so.
Henry smiled weakly, letting a huff of breath out through his nose silently. Even if he wasn’t talking to her right now, it was good to know that if something had happened Gabe would have stood up. ”That’s good,” the nurse said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.
”Is there anything you think I should say to her? Anything I can do without being overbearing?” he asked, his eyes trained on the wall.
Gabe took a deep breath and leaned his head back against the chair. ”What did dad say?”
”He told me what we should have done with you growing up. Give you space but be there when you needed us. A support system.”
His expression hardened, eyes on the ceiling; he stopped swaying in the chair. ”Do that.”
Sighing, Henry buried his face into his hands and rubbed his eyes and temples. He was so used to being an active part of someone’s company, to help care for them when they were sick or down, so being distant had been hard on him. Really hard. He just wanted to help make things better – and much like his mother, while a whole lot more tamed, it frustrated him not to see results. He was used to aiding kids to the point where they could leave the hospital, sick or injured; there were some that never left those rooms, and that was hard on him as well, but he had to separate himself from that mindset. He couldn’t treat Ethiriel or Gabe like patients in his own home, they were separate people.
Taking a stand, Henry hovered over Gabe’s bed for just a moment. Again, he sighed, taking a few steps away. ”I’ll try.”
Gabe took that as his cue to return to his desk properly. Facing the computer, he offered his brother some parting words. ”Good luck.” They sounded surprisingly genuine.
That was a tone that Henry hadn’t heard in a while – his lips parted for a moment to say something, but immediately he drew back with a muted smile before walking toward the door and taking his leave. Surely, that luck was what he needed, and the nurse felt just a bit more confident from that alone.
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