The darkness enveloped him, cold and smothering, like a blanket soaked with ice water. He sat in the chair, not seeing, not hearing, just breathing. All he could do was focus on his breathing. There was nothing else except the air in his lungs. If he thought about anything else, let his mind wander away from the safe territory of that basic function of life, he'd succumb to the tears and rage that he'd managed to bottle up at some point.
Andy slipped quietly into the dark room, standing just inside the door. Seeing him sitting there, motionless in the dark broke her heart. She had no idea what had transpired over the last few days and she didn't dare ask. He didn't look like he could handle revisiting what had happened. He'd tell her when he was ready. She walked quietly over to him and laid a hand softly on his shoulder. He didn't move, didn't react. She knew he'd shut down. His normally sharp senses would have given away her presence first thing, not even giving her the opportunity to sneak up on him as she had. She stepped in front of him, kneeling down, letting her hand slid to his knees. His blank gaze shifted down to her.
"Let's get you home, huh?" she asked softly. "I want you to stay with me tonight."
"No." His voice was barely there, trapped somewhere in his chest.
"Then I'm staying with you. I don't want you to be alone tonight."
"I'll be fine," he said, not even bothering to try to sound convincing.
"No, you won't. C'mon, Bobby, don't shut me out. Not now." Andy blinked back the tears that were fighting their way out. The haunted, broken look in his eyes tore at her heart, leaving her silently struggling to stay steadfast in front of him.
He responded simply by closing his eyes in a futile attempt to block her out, staying silent for a while. After a moment, he nodded. She smiled sadly, taking his hand as she stood up. He opened his eyes and looked up at her. His own tears had reemerged, escaping down his cheeks. Bobby tugged on her hand lightly, pulling her into a tight hug. He clung to her, burying his face in her shoulder. She sank down into his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.
She was scared, afraid to leave him by himself. It was a nagging pain in her chest, trying to overwhelm her rationality. He'd be all right. Right? He kept things so close to himself, so out of reach from her; she had no idea what was going through his mind right now. He'd torture himself with the events of the last couple months, would wish he'd said one thing or another to his mother. She'd do her damnedest to keep his head above water, in spite of his protests, even if he picked a fight. Otherwise, he'd keep it to himself and drown in his pain.