The night following Hughes' funeral, Roy cried.
The second night, Roy swallowed the hardest whiskey he could lay his hands on and cried.
The third night, Roy dwelled on the past. He didn't think about the good times, but rather mulled over the troubled times. There were things Roy should have told Maes. He should have told him to leave well enough alone. Somehow Roy felt this was all his fault. He had brought the brothers into the military. He had helped them on their dangerous path. Those boys had nothing to lose, but Maes... he had had plenty to live for.
The fourth night, Roy thought about his late friend's family. Elysia's screams haunted him in his sleep, her heart-wrenching cries forever burned into his soul. That wound would never heal. He thought about poor Gracia. He wondered how she was coping, having to deal with both her daughter's and her own grieving. He was fairly sure that she had no family in Central. Maybe he should visit her.
The fifth night, Roy arrived outside of the Hughes' family home. It looked the same as it always had; only now it seemed bereft and gloomy. It was probably just his mind perceiving it that way. When Gracia answered the door, she had smiled weakly, before allowing him inside, and showing him the way to the sitting room. They had both cried that night.
Roy had visited her each night since, bringing flowers and warm memories of Maes. They talked about the good times, and of how they missed him. Elysia was still quiet, and Roy sincerely hoped the little girl would start talking again.
It had been two weeks since Hughes' funeral, and while he still ached for his friend, it was easier to talk about him, and remember him and all the promises they had made. Gracia seemed to be doing better herself, smiling genuinely and, laughing when they reminisced. He looked forward to their visits as if he could somehow hold onto Maes by being near her.
Their night had gone like each night before it: they ate, drank some coffee, and talked about Maes. When Roy had first learned about what had happened, he didn't think he would ever feel right again. Somehow, being with Gracia had changed all of that. When he went to sleep at night, his dreams weren't filled with the horrors that often lurked there; instead, they were filled with the people he cared for. His chest felt lighter when he was with her, and the way her green eyes sparkled whenever she smiled reminded him so much of her husband that he could almost feel his presence.
He had kissed her then. He hadn't planned it, but in that moment it had just felt right.
Two weeks and one night after Hughes' funeral, Roy drank in silence until he couldn't remember anything anymore. Numb, lost, and alone, he tried very hard to forget Maes and everything connected to him.
