This is basically just me getting my creative blood flowing; practice basically.
Also Ryder's storyline is not canon in this. I'm not sure if it's a one-shot but feel free to ask me to continue it. Your view is much appreciated.
They both rush in to the doorway with a flourish, rain having already drenched their funeral wear and still pouring heavily. His mother, Joan, slams the door ,mostly to keep the rain out, but there is an edge of anger when she does it. Ryder, her son, is standing by the window in the family room, staring out at the grim tone the sky has taken on and it's attempt to infect everything with it's foul mood.
He doesn't feel infected though, well not completely, but he more so feels enlightened. He's come to a realization, he can't do this anymore. He can't keep hiding who he is from his family, the chance of loosing them before they can know the real him is a great burden.
He turns from the window and steps deliberately into the hallway, stopping right before the kitchen doorway. He's keeps his head low so he can decide what to say before facing his mother. She is busying herself with cooking dinner, but she's making mistakes and spilling things, she runs a hand along her brow as she tries to collect herself. She glances at Ryder as he is, poised in the doorway , her mouth sets into a firm line.
"Ryder, sweetie, take off those wet clothes." she says sternly but affectionately. She sets some pots on the island and begins to gather some spices from the kitchen cabinet. Ryder doesn't move as he stares uncertainly at his mother. "Mom, I have...can I ask you something ?". He bites his lip in anticipation for his mother's answer, but she turns to him with look bordering on frustration. " Not before you change for dinner." she then examines the cabinet another time before moving to another one. Ryder groans in frustration and moves to follow his mother. "Mom! Seriously, this is important."
She lets out a frustrated breath and Ryder's steps falter as he suddenly feels like a bother,but his conscience reminds him that he needs to do this. He steps closer and waits for his mother to turn around. She doesn't. Ryder lets out an embittered groan, "Mom." he says with an edge of irritation.
"Ryder !" his mother calls in warning. "Can't this wait. I'm doing something at the moment. Get ready for dinner and don't pester me until you're done." Ryder's gaze falls to the ground along with his spirits.
Ryder shifts on his legs uncertainly as he suddenly feels like an intruder. He then feels something settle in the base of his belly, he's not sure if it's guilt or resentment, he settles for resentment.
"Dad would've answered me." he says spitefully but lowly. He makes to leave.
Suddenly there's a brief but sharp clap that seems to resonate in the room. Ryder is holding his face as his mother covers her mouth in shock. The two don't move to comfort the other. Ryder doesn't look at his mother but he can see the tentative hand being raised to him, he flinches just a little. Joan draws back her hand, but with fierce determination, she wraps her baby boy in a tight but gentle hug.
Ryder doesn't do or say anything, he's still reeling, so he lets his mother hug him without a word. And he wonders if she's too distracted to notice his tears.
