"You're going down, Magnus!", cried T.J.
They were sitting on the floor of T.J.'s room on Floor 19, playing a video game that involved a whole lot of shooting each other, their opponents, and everything that popped up on the screen.
"I'll take your word for it", mumbled Magnus distractedly. He still didn't fully understand the game, even after T.J. insisted on giving him an extensive explanation on the object of the game, the rules, and more importantly, how to go about playing it. His mind, however, wasn't on the game, but back on the ridge in the Blue Hills where he'd scattered the cremated remains of Natalie Chase. It wasn't the physical act of throwing the ashes that troubled him, though. As lame (but admittedly understandable) as it seemed to him, Magnus really missed his mother. Absentmindedly, he put down the video game controller.
Another comment from T.J. brought him back to reality.
"I'm starting to think that you aren't even trying!"
It was then that Magnus noticed the tears that were running down his cheeks. Hastily, he tried to wipe them off with his sleeve, but he was too late.
"Magnus, are you all right?". T.J.'s tone of voice was now entirely different. He turned off the video game and went to kneel beside his friend.
"Yeah, I'm fine", Magnus said in what he hoped was a gruff tone. His voice cracked.
"No, you aren't", T.J. said softly. He slowly reached his hand out and brushed away the last of the other boy's tears. It hurt T.J. to see his favorite hallmate like this.
"I just miss her so much". Magnus spoke in a voice that was barely louder than a whisper. T.J. didn't need to ask who he was talking about.
"I'm...sorry. But it's not like you'll never see her again, right? Hel can't have been telling the truth." The former Civil War soldier knew about loss, even if he was the same age as Magnus. He took said boy's hand and stroked the back of it tenderly, as if to say, 'I'm here for you if you need me'. Magnus didn't pull away. He began to sob, his shoulders shaking subtly.
There was nothing more that could be said. All T.J. could do was pull his friend (or maybe more than that) into his chest and hold him there, shielding him from the rest of the world.