It was a strange thing, how Fate threw people together in unexpected ways. She had visited for the sole purpose of attaining views for her Bcube channel, things were simple – all she had to do was to have fun and get all that on video. Yet somehow, Fate threw a wench in her plans. She still did have fun, one could not deny that fact; yet the end of her time on the planet was marred with fear.
She knew what the world was like, there were always those who would hurt others, and those who would abandon their friends for reasons that she may not understand – she knew that, yet to see it occur before her eyes, even towards someone she barely knew, she could not accept it. She did not have to think about how it would have felt for her if the situation was reversed to guess the pain; if it was Happy who attacked her and spewed words that splintered her heart with agonizing trauma. Such memories would perhaps never fade with time, and haunt them for the rest of their lives.
If it was Happy who spun around, attacked her, and spat upon their friendship, simply the thought of it infuriated her. There was no way Happy would do such a thing towards his friend, that much she knew for sure. But Rebecca also knew that Shiki believed the same of his robot friends.
They may have been robots, but they had, and always would be his friends. Even with betrayal and heartache, the bond between friends did not disappear with ease. Day in, day out, she knew, he remembered the exact sensation, the chill within his heart as his friends turned on him. No, his family. They were his family, just as Happy is hers. Robotic hearts or not, what they had was real.
She watched him shed tears of disbelief, of agony, of loneliness, and she knew that nothingshe could utter would erase that from his mind. Yet still he bore smiles as though naught affected him, as though life had been nothing but cheery songs and beautiful roses – but she knew the truth. Despite the happy-go-lucky persona he adopted in his waking hours, at night whilst he slumbered the truth peeked.
It had been mildly annoying, how he darted around and asked just about anyone to be his friends, how he failed to read the situation or consider the circumstances; but she took comfort in the fact that Shiki meant no malice, and sincerely desired the growth of friendship. He deserved it, after all. Their days together only solidified her verdict; as far as things went, Shiki had a pure heart.
And all he desired was to fill the void in his heart from the betrayal of his family with new friends.
She knew. She knew even though he wore a happy disposition, his nights were filled with loneliness. While she had been clear on his sleeping arrangements, the quiet sobs echoed through the silent spaceship. Perhaps he had not been aware of his own anguish, or at least the extents of it, Rebecca was more than perceptive with all that occurred within her ship.
They had retreated to their respective rooms for the night, but she had desired a glass of water to quench a sudden thirst, wandering around the ship to ensure that all was well before the Sandman would be allowed to capture her consciousness. She had made the choice to check on him, worried that his lack of understanding of a spaceship ( especially after he inquired if he could break the windows ) would cause troubles – only to overhear the repressed weeping. Quietly she had invaded his privacy, took little more than a peek into his assigned room, and witnessed what she could not reverse from mind.
A man, strong and fearless in his waking hours, curled up tightly in a fetal position, whimpering and mourning his loss. It hardly felt right, watching his vulnerable heart exposed as his exuberance cracked to reveal his melancholy. It was not her place.
But still she closed the distance and glided through the night, placing a pale hand upon his cheek. Brushing tears away with a thumb, Rebecca sighed and took a seat by his dormant form shaking in misery. She may never understand wholly the emptiness resulting from the loss of a family beyond two, but if the thought of losing even just Happy was enough to force teeth upon lips to stifle her distraught thoughts, what more was to be said of losing a large family like Shiki did? She could not fathom how he managed.
"You were really lonely, weren't you?"
She stroked dark tresses in an attempt to comfort him, humming a soothing tune she picked up through her years. Once upon a time she had been in his place, wondering if she had deserved the loneliness that came from being abandoned – though she supposed the difference between them was that she never knew a family before Happy.
Yet to have one, and have it snatched away from him…
Once more she sighed, and forgave the arm that snaking around her waist and pulling her close. It was only for comfort, she told herself, and while he slumbered he knew little of the actions he took – and she accepted that he did not, had not crossed boundaries. The sensation of breath against skin as he whimpered was written off to the fact that he only needed the reassurance to soothe his sufferings. She felt better about the lonely days she once lived when she nestled face in the fur. She could offer him that little bit of comfort. They were considered friends after all. It was the least she could do.
Thus she wiped his tears again, and provided him with a lullaby for peaceful and nightmare free slumber, vox ringing clear despite the lowered volume, a constant presence ready to battle his demons, his loneliness, his solitude.
"There's no need to cry anymore… You won't be alone again… I'm here."
She would take it all, the sniffling of the child who lost his family, desperately clinging onto her as though she was akin to the ones he had lost, as though a thin straw that kept him anchored away from the emptiness within; her tune that resounded in waves and nudged the desolation away from his sensitive soul. She would steer his thoughts away, away from the memories and nightmares of loud yells of being termed the enemy, that they were never friends. But they would always be his friends, and now they were gone.
If one had to feel such sadness, a loneliness of such depth, would one still wish for a heart?
"I'm here."