I know I haven't posted anything in a long time…though probably no one has noticed. School started again and I have a heavy semester time-wise, so it's hard to find time to do anything but homework or sleep most of the time. Anyway, this little idea was rp-inspired, thanks to Bean02. Hope you enjoy.

Packing

There was so much to go through; so much to do. It was the very same place he had grown up in, only now everything was almost all packed up in boxes. Looking around, he sighed and scratched his shaved head.

So many memories were contained in the walls…the floor…the doorways. He thought for a moment he could still hear the echo of his brother and his laugh from down the hallway. But it wasn't always happy.

He swallowed hard and walked down the hall to his mother's room. Standing in the doorway, he paused for a moment. When they were growing up, this room was always forbidden. He remembered how badly she would freak out if either of them even so much as looked at her room.

Slowly, he walked inside and reached for the desk drawer, to finish packing whatever she hadn't taken with her to the home. It was a job he had slowly been doing over the past few weeks, as he prepared for his own departure in only a few days. For his life to change so dramatically again. It's not like his life had ever been normal.

Sealing up the box, he picked it up to take out to the front room. Supposedly, his brother was going to help, but Richard had yet to even show his face, let alone help. In fact, he had a pretty good feeling that his brother wouldn't even show up to go through their mother's things to see if there was anything he wanted to keep around.

From putting the box down and meaning to go back into his mother's room, he suddenly found himself standing on front of the baby grand piano that was in the corner. His hand almost shook as he reached out hesitantly to touch the white keys. For years she had made him take lessons. It was her dream for him to be a concert pianist. She made sure that he practiced several hours a day. She loved to hear him play.

He pressed down a key, listening to the clear, gentle sound of the middle C. It was what she had wanted. But he couldn't bring himself to play anymore. He doubted that she even remembered anymore. Swallowing hard, he tried to blink away the tears that somehow it could have been his fault. Maybe if he had been a better son, or a better brother, then she might not have had the brake down that she did. He withdrew his hand and let it drop down to his side.

"Hey, I thought you might be here," the voice of the neighbor across the hall, Fred, said from the open front door.

Bobby managed to smile briefly, moving away from the piano, "Yeah."

"Is uh.." Fred shifted uncomfortably, sensing that the youngest of the Goren family wasn't really interested in talking much, "Is Richard going to come down here?"

"Richard isn't going to do much of anything," Bobby replied, starting to move some boxes off of a table. He looked up a little, "He won't be coming. But it's..it's ok, I think I'm pretty much done."

Fred nodded slightly as Bobby grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "Ok, well that's…good. So, when are you shipping out?"

Subconsciously, he reached up to rub his shaved head – his curly hair already cut down to Army standards, "Three days."

He watched the tall figure simply brush past him and start down the hallway to the stairs. Fred shook his head slightly, Bobby Goren was such an intelligent young man – he hoped that what ever his duties in the Army would be, that they would take advantage of his bright mind.

"Hey Bobby," he called after him, "What are you going to do about the piano? Don't you want to keep it?"

For a moment, he stopped and turned his head slightly, but then only kept walking. "Sell it. Just like everything else," he replied over his shoulder before he turned and disappeared from view.