She hears the back door rattle and instantly she knows who has entered her home. Normally a young female adult, and mother, would be terrified if someone entered their home without permission or warning, but for her this new comer was a welcomed surprise. She finished drying the glass in her hand and places it gentle onto the counter top, dropping her damp rag down along side it.
"It's been a long time" She said with more of a sad tone then one of anger as she turned to face the intruder.
"That it has" was all he said as he stepped out of the shadows he's features now lit by the fluorescent lighting. He shot her one of his award winning smiles and it was only then that she really took in the appearance of a man she had not laid her eyes on in over a year. He still dressed the same, faded jeans and a worn plaid shirt, hair still crew cut. His face had what appeared to be a few days worth of stubble which was not something she had seen on him since the weeks following the end of their old lives. And of course she could not help but notice the cut running along his forehead, not to deep but head wounds always bleed the most. There was also trace amounts on his arms and on his clothes accompanied with what appeared to be caked on dirty.
Before she could comment on his overall appearance he spoke first.
"A job close by" He causally states. "I was in the area, felt like the right time to stop by"
She moves close to him with a bit of concern in her eyes, but knowing how the two of them work she asked no questions simply guided him to a kitchen chair and left the room in search of her first aid kit. She returned to an empty kitchen which was of no surprise; the boy could never sit still for long. She found him in the living room assessing the photos that decorated the room. In his hand is a recent photo of her 4 year old son, taken two months ago for school.
She didn't make her presence know, not that it mattered; all his life, like hers, he was trained to be aware of anything and everything.
"He's getting big" The sadness in his tone matched that of hers earlier.
She goes to him and takes the photo from his hands and gentle places it back on the mantle.
"Let's get you cleaned up" as she turns and heads back into the kitchen with him following on her heals.
The process is so routine that in a matter of minute his injuries are cleaned, disinfected and stitched up. He doesn't look that bad and can now pass off his injuries of that of a car accident or a fall.
She makes coffee and the two sit there for a long while before the silence is broken.
"He looks like him when he was that age" He states as he stares off into the distance. She shifts in her chair. She was normally used to his regular act when he used to come around. A fake cheerfulness he would use to take stress off of her and use so as not to scare the child or make him ask questions.
Right away she knew that something very big was going on. The life that he leads and the one she used to makes this event greater, because when something affected one of them on this scale it was "end of the world" kind of Big. He lets out a sigh and his mood switched, but she can tell he's only doing it to mask what is really going on. She trusts him and for that reason alone she doesn't ask what is going on, he'll tell her when he's ready.
"Where is he?" He asks looking up to finally meet her eyes.
"Soccer practice after school, He should be home any minute"
"Good" You could hear the longing in his voice. He shifts and smiles at her, he looks her over and continues.
"You look good, how are things here?"
"About the same" There is a little white lie in that statement but she wasn't ready to look him in the eye and tell him she has moved on when clearly he hasn't and never will. In truth she hadn't fully moved on, and god knows four years is enough time to don the roll of the mourner. Even though she couldn't fully let go of the past she still knew he would have wanted her to move on and be happy, to live.
Another few minutes of silence go by.
"Annie there is something I need to talk to you about" Just as the last syllable leaves he mouth the front door opens and in runs the most adorable four year old the world has ever seen. His shaggy brown hair is all over the place; he's high cheek bones covered in dirty, much like the uniform he wears. He begins to run to the open arms of his mother when the other figure in the room catches he's eye.
"Uncle Dean!" The overly excited child yells then run full force at the last sole surviving family member of his father's family.