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Rohan was not used to recieving phone calls, so when the phone had rung just as he was ready to go out hunting for star seeds, he'd hesitated. After all, he'd actually been powered up and about ready to jump out the window when the thing rang. A moment passed and despite deeply concidering ignoring it, Rohan had finally moved towards the machine, answering it perhaps a touch harsher than he should have. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't the sound of the elderly woman on the other side of the line; what she had to say to him startled him enough to power down right then and there, all annoyance gone and now firmly replaced with worry.

He'd dropped everything he was doing, including his plans to hunt, and had practically raced to Khalla's house. His worry multiplied when he reached the house and no one would answer the door; he tried several times before giving up and pushing on the door, finding it to be open, surprisingly enough. The house was dark, save for the light that came from the living room, and he hesitated for a moment at the door, "Khalla?" he didn't wait for a response, instead chosing to close the door with a soft click, making sure the lock was in place before moving away.

Something about the situation made Rohan move slower than usual, hesitant, as if he weren't allowed to intrude on the silence that haunted the house, "Khalla?" he tried again before walking into the living room, approaching the sofa so he could lean over it's back, peering at the front side to find the girl he'd been calling for curled up in a fetal position. It didn't look like she was all that responsive, and he didn't know if she'd heard him or not; all the more worried for it, he slowly reached out with a hand and placed it on the girl's shoulder, giving her a small shake, "I got a call; your neighbor phoned me and told me... what happened," technically, the woman had gone over the mainpoints, but hadn't given Rohan any of the details. Despite this, he didn't feel like this was the time of place to ask Khalla to fill him in on what, exactly, had happened, "Are you.... fine?"

He knew the answer to that question even before the words left his mouth, but he felt the need to ask, almost as if he were hoping that one question might shake the girl into some sort of mobile state; she looked like she was in shock. He hesitated a moment before walking around the sofa, standing front of the girl and then... slowly kneeling down so his eyes were almost on level with hers, "Khalla...?"

When Khalla practically threw herself off the sofa and into his arms, Rohan almost lost his balance. He only managed to save grace by swiftly placing one of his arms on the ground behind him, using his other one to steady the girl that practically clung to him as if her very life depended on it. It was only around then, as he held onto an armful of crying, desperate girl, that he realized he... had no idea how to comfort someone. He'd never done the whole 'comforting' thing, and he was thus, way out of his own comfort zone.

Granted, this didn't mean he didn't try, because try he did; slowly, he moved so that he was seated on the ground (mostly because he didn't think now was the best time to move, even if the sofa was right there) and let her cry her heart out. As the tears flowed and she mumbled hysterically into his shirt, Rohan pressed a hand to her back and rubbed it in what he hoped was a soothing gesture, "Shhhh.. shhhh..." it was repeated time and time again, specially when her voice managed to rise in volume; unfortunately, her sobs were making it impossible for him to actually understand what the girl was saying. He did, however, catch stray words here and there, and he didn't particularly like what she was saying.

While her face was buried against him, he allowed himself to grimace; he felt so utterly useless. All he could do was let her cling to him, and whisper time and time again that everything was going to be just fine, even if he himself had a little trouble believing his own words, "It's..." he cut himself off before finishing that phrase because no, it wasn't alright and he wasn't stupid enough to think the girl would believe him, "We'll make it work out," he said instead, still moving his hand on her back as he spoke, "We need to get you out of here, Khalla," he was no expert on the matter, granted, but something told him that staying in this house would do nothing good to her psyche; the place was eerily haunting even to him. The old woman's voice, the sounds she'd make moving about the place... it was all missing, and if he could feel the absence, he had no idea what it felt like to the girl in his arms, "We'll think of something."

He just had no idea what exactly just yet.

Rohan found that for all his usual careful planning... he had absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. He was winging it, and the notion was making him feel uncomfortable, mostly because he wasn't the best soul on earth when it came to improvising. Specially not in delicate situations, and this one seemed to be as delicate as they came. He reached into a pocket of his jacket with one hand while he kept Khalla steadily against him with the other, hoping to whatever God was out there that the girl would forgive him if he messed up; these were deep waters, "Of course I'm right," he murmured as he lifted a handkerchief he'd pulled out of his pocket, "I'm always right," it did not sound conceited at all; in fact, there was a small note of vague humor in his voice, though it could be easily missed. This was no doubt his extremely lame (not to mention pathetic) attempt at making her smile.

He decided against making a comment about Creighton and Amara, figuring this really just wasn't the time; vague humor was okay, but there were certain things that crossed the line in this sort of situation, "My apartment is just fine," he murmured as he leaned in to give her a hug; it was meant to be soothing, but it probably came off as slightly awkward due to their position on the floor. That... and well, he just wasn't the type that practiced hugs on a daily basis; they were strange to him at best. That done, he began to pull himself up to his full height, helping the girl onto her feet as he did so, "In all honesty... my apartment was what I'd planned from the start," mostly because he felt the need to keep an eye on her for, if only for a while, and he couldn't very well do that if she wasn't with him.

A long pause followed; despite the fact he'd pulled them to their feet, he was was still holding onto her, keep her against his body, as if by doing so he could somehow shield her from all the evils of the world, "Ah... the lady that called me," another pause, "I think I might've snapped at her when I picked up the phone. And was a bit too preoccupied trying to figure out what to do by the time she'd told me what had happened to er... apologize. Which I think I should," he'd never been the most social of beings, but at least he knew as much and seemed willing to rectify when the situation called for it. Baby steps and all.

The way her lips twitched did not go unnoticed, and he found himself imitating the gesture which came almost naturally when he was around her. It was gone almost as soon as it came however, and he watched as she cleaned her face, "I also think a bit of water would do you good," a pause, and then he felt the need to elaborate, "Both for your face and for you to drink," he kept a grip on her almost subconsciously until he felt that she was stable enough to move and then finally let go, allowing her to roam the room in search whatever it was she was looking for.

Rather than question her, Rohan simply trailed after her, almost like a looming shadow as she searched here and there till she found a notebook and a pen, "Let me," he murmured, and with that, he leaned over the paper and scribbled something in a fast, elegant strokes; for all his disorganization, the man apparently had almost girly handwriting. It almost looked as if all it needed was a flourish of his hand to make the whole thing seem utterly surreal, "You just need some rest. And while keeping your mind off of it is not what you probably want... you should ease into it slowly - don't forget, but don't try to remember everything at once."

Who the hell was he kidding? He was obviously of no help here; his frustration with himself was apparent in the way he paused, signed the note with his name then lifted a hand to run it through his hair, "I'm sorry. I'm not particularly deft at these situations. I'm crude and blunt and have about as much grace as a rhino dancing through a pottery store,"a small sigh as he placed the pen and note down together and looked at her, "I won't mother you, I can promise you that, but I can't say I won't worry. I'll give you your space as needed though... I feel the need to point out you would not be sleeping on that sofa," he extended a hand to her, as if by doing so he could maybe keep her rooted, grounded. After all, she no longer seemed to be crying or devolving into hysterics, but he knew how these things worked, and was well aware that she could fall prisoner of the overwhelming sadness any moment now, "So, water then, and... do you mind my motorcycle?"

After putting the note down, he finally straightened up and turned to look towards the kitchen, "Let's get you that water, and then we can..." they can what? Work it all out? Unfortunately, there in lay the problem; there was nothing they could fix; it was simply a matter of letting time heal the wounds. While he was used to being patient, he didn't particularly like the idea of feeling utterly useless, watching Khalla suffer, "Make you as comfortable as humanly possible, given the circumstances, I guess. Therre's not much more I can offer at this point," he sounded almost angry with himself ad a mild frown crossed his features, though the expression vanished almost as soon as it came.

"I think that sleeping on the sofa is particularly counter productive to a good night's rest - so long as you don't mind the company, specially since Uno seems to have taken a liking to sleeping there too... I think the bed is large enough, Khalla," it was right about then that the girl jerked her hand away from him, almost as if she'd been burned, and confusion flashed over his features. There was a moment's silence as the confusion melted into some unreadable expression; he looked like he was about to say something, but her words effectively cut him off, realization and understanding slowly dawning on him. Another pause followed, and he breathed a silent 'Oh' before he nodded his head, "I can do that," in all honesty, he wasn't sure if his assumptions were correct, but he didn't feel like asking her if that had been where she'd found her grandmother... was a good idea.

Thus so, he slowly moved to the kitchen, fetched a cup and filled it water. As an afterthought, he got one of the kitchen cloths and rinsed it under water, dampening while making sure it would not make a mess before walking back to the girl's side, "Since you can't go to the water, I figured the water would do fine coming to you," he lifted the cloth for her to take, "Maybe you would like to clean your face off before going out," interestingly enough... it wasn't pity which he radiated, but rather concern.

There were other, more negative emotions that seemed to play off his features every so often (if one looked hard enough at least - the man usually maintained an almost stoic exterior which was hard to read at the best of times) , but they seemed to be directed at himself rather than the girl; there was mild anger, for he felt like he'd somehow failed her. Logically, this was a silly notion, seeing as how he'd had nothing to do with the whole ordeal, but irrationally, the emotion was still there, wedged inside of him and it seemed unwilling to move for the time being, "I'm sorry," he finally breathed, almost as if this were his fault somehow.

He felt... positively useless. Even if he had fetched the water and rag, it seemed like a meaningless thing; it wasn't going to make her feel any better, nor was it going to bring the old lay back from the tomb. It seemed like all Rohan could aspire to do at the current moment was to alleviate her pain as much as possible (which probably wasn't a lot to begin with), by making her feel comfortable. It didn't seem particularly fair to him, not in the slightest.

As she spoke up again, he stared at her, mostly nonplussed; or at least, he might have appeared that way to a general onlooker. Khalla though, knew him well enough to probably recognize the way his brows knitted a bit together, his mouth thinning into a grim line, "I have as much control over this situation as you do," he murmured to her as he took the rag and glass from where she'd placed them, retreating into the kitchen so she could ponder on what he'd said.

Her words floated over to him from where he stood over the sink, and though he didn't turn around, he nodded, "Yes, lets," leaving the cup in the sink and the rag hanging from the side, he joined her again, pausing only when she nudged him forward, "I..." he paused and snapped his mouth shut; it was obvious he'd been about to say something, but had thought better of it. Merely nodding once more, he only lingered long enough to place his hand over her shoulder before walking out of the house and towards his bike. While it was true that Khalla might not be able to forget what she'd seen upon entering the kitchen, it was probable he wouldn't be able to forget that lost, dazed look of her when he'd stumbled into the living room.

There was no denying he wanted to get out of that house and stop reliving that moment as much as Khalla herself. That in mind, he started the motorcycle, and waited patiently by the driveway for her to emerge.

Rohan had been watching her as she came out of the house, his eyes lingering on her form as she hesitated, no doubt wondering if she should lock the door or not. He didn't really know how she felt; he'd never really experienced this type of loss. He'd extracted himself from the family core long back, and did not bother to keep in touch, specially since he had joined the negaverse. He was well aware that he was fighting a war, and that there was absolutely no warranty that he would come out of it alive. Forcing close with others was probably not the wisest of decisions, given his extracurricular duties, and yet he'd allowed himself to fall prey of emotion, where Khalla was concerned.

He was only human, after all.

Her hands hesitated by the lock before they bolted the door, and still Rohan watched from where he sat on his bike, his eyes never leaving her. It was only when she called out to him and descended the steps that he made the bike roar slightly, waiting for her to slip behind him, "I'll take you somewhere safe," it was said just loud enough for her to hear before he pushed off and drove off, all the while wishing he could reach out and stroke her back; it seemed like she needed some for of comfort or other, and that was all his mind could supply.

Fortunately, the drive was not too long, and all the while, Rohan found himself thinking back to his own words; he couldn't very well take her 'home', so he'd settled for 'safe'. He would try to keep her safe from memories, from what had just happened, from the nightmares that would doubtlessly haunt her, rather than from the more traditional threats life could offer.