They had left together without anyone knowing. Nobody asked him as he walked away from his grieving family. Nobody asked her why she had her hand held firmly in his.
She watches as the man in front of her sobs uncontrollably. She watches and thinks that she has never seen him so… pitiful. He walks over and sits on the couch, his head in his hands as his body shakes. All she can do is stand in the doorway and watch…she can't comfort him because she doesn't know how.
"I could have stopped it," he mumbles into his hands, it's barely audible and she only hears the last two words. Then he does something she doesn't want him to do. He looks up. She is afraid. She's never seen him like this, not ever.
He's always so calm; like nothing could ever faze him. But now look at him. He's an emotional mess…but who can blame him? He just lost his brother. He had denied contact with his family for almost three years before this bloody war ended only an hour ago. He felt the guilt more than anything. Guilty because he had wasted three years of his life he could have spent with his family…with his brother. He had wasted this time to be cold towards them. He was and idiot. Whoever deemed him smart was an idiot. Whoever loved him was an idiot. He was a wretched, horrible, disgusting prick.
But he needed to see her. To know that there was someone out there who could stand to be in the same room as him. He looks up into her eyes and sees she is afraid. She hasn't spoken and he's scared. All she does is stand at his doorway, watching him with that beautiful, angelic face looking at him like she wants to run in the opposite direction. He moves to get up while she doesn't move an inch. The tears have stopped falling and all he can think is that he needs her to say something…anything.
"Please…" he reaches out to her but doesn't move. She keeps looking at him because she doesn't know what else to do. She wants to comfort him but doesn't know how. He doesn't move because he doesn't want to startle her.
She doesn't know what to do…but she does something that comes naturally. She walks over to him and just hugs him. She pulls him against her and strokes the back of his neck soothingly as he rests his head on her shoulder. They stand in the room silently and unmoving form the embrace. He isn't crying at all anymore and she's still frozen on what to do. She hardly realizes that she is actually doing something to help him.
She continues to run her fingers through his red curls like a mother would do to calm a child. Her raven hair tickles his face slightly because it is falling disheveled about her shoulders.
She finds her voice and whispers, "Percy, you can't change the past."
It's a simple statement. It's the truth. She has never been one to sugarcoat what's real.
The meaning of what she says becomes clear to him. He realizes that now begins the difficult path to cope with this truth for the rest of his life.
"Will you help me?" he asks into her shoulder. She knows what he's talking about. And she knows that she will.
"Of course, love."
"…Thank you Pansy."