Rosie squatted down beside Sian, pulling the younger girls blonde hair out of her eyes and face. Sian looked up at her appreciatively, wiping at her mouth with the back of her hand which was once again enveloped in the sleeve of her jumper. The contents of her stomach now empty, Sian returned to her position of leaning against the metal pillar, her head tipped back in contemplation, her eyes closed as she tried to compose herself.
A part of her felt better now that the nausea had passed, her stomach cramps had eased to an almost tolerable level and her head, although still hazy, seemed to have ceased its incessant throbbing. Her chest however, ached with an emptiness that Sian had never felt before. She felt hollow and numb, as though life had lost all meaning and purpose. Worst of all, she feared. Feared for Sophie, for the Webster's: Sally, Rosie and Kevin, but, most of all, she feared for herself, because if this is what life would be like from now on, without Sophie, then, it really wasn't a life at all.
Sian felt Rosie settle beside her, pulling her from her thoughts. She lifted her head slightly to study the older girl, who was now seated directly to Sian's right, her legs stretched out in front of her, shoulders squared as they too leant against the solid pillar.
Noticing Sian's attention had returned to her, Rosie said nothing, knowing that what the blonde needed to hear, she could not offer her, that there were no words in situations like these which would lighten the moment, would dampen the pain and the anxiousness. So, instead, Rosie just thread her left arm underneath Sian's right and dropped her head onto the blondes shoulder. She felt herself swell with emotion at Rosie's gesture, so small in its purest form but its meaning massive in the context of the moment. It said more than any words Rosie could have voiced, spoke volumes of the girls own grief and distress. For Rosie, someone normally so vocal and energetic, this serenity, this silence, was out of place. However, its effect on Sian was not lost and she couldn't help but feel comforted as they sat together, both lost in their own thoughts.
In an attempt at reciprocating Rosie's support, Sian reached out and took her pale hand in her own, before gently resting her head atop the raven coloured hair of Sophie's older sister. For a while they just remained like this, neither one speaking, time passing unnoticed and uneventfully around them as they waited. Finally, Sian turned her head to look at Rosie, a tear tracing lines down the other girls' cheek, another mascara line scarring her already blackened face.
"I'm sorry," Sian said simply, her own eyes stinging with the threat of tears once again at the sight of Rosie, a shadow of her normally buoyant self.
Rosie wiped the tear away with her free hand and turned to look at Sian, a puzzled expression on her face.
"Sorry?" She asked confused. "What are you sorry for?"
"I don't know," Sian replied gesturing with a nod of her head in the direction of her now lost stomach contents. "For before I suppose."
Rosie followed Sian's gaze and sat up quickly, causing Sian to shift her position in return.
"Sian!" Rosie said exasperated, her voice taking on some of its familiar shrillness. "Please don't apologise for that."
"Why?" Sian asked, "I am sorry. You shouldn't have seen that. You should be inside with your family. Not…sitting out here in the cold with me."
Rosie pulled Sian into a tight embrace and held her there for a moment as she spoke.
"You might not be my family," Rosie stated simply, "but, you're one of the most important things in Sophie's life and that makes you a part of this family."
"Rosie…" Sian began to protest, distancing herself from the older girl to look at her.
"Sian, look," Rosie interrupted, ignoring the blonde's objection. "I've not exactly got the best track record when it comes to being Sophie's sister, especially recently. I don't know what happened tonight…or what's been happening over the last few weeks, months really… I suppose."
Sian watched Rosie closely as she paused; searching for the words that she needed to get her point across to the younger girl.
"Maybe I was trying to pretend that everything was alright, I don't know…maybe I thought if I just carried on as if nothing had happened, that me mum and dad weren't always at each other's throats or trying to outdo each other then things could be normal."
Rosie smiled sadly at Sian, another tear escaping from her eye and following in its predecessor's earlier path.
"Maybe I was just being myself," she said contemplating how everything had fallen apart after the tram crash. "Maybe I'm just selfish."
Sian wanted to tell Rosie that she wasn't selfish, that perhaps with everything going on around them they'd all been a little guilty of putting themselves first, of not considering each other's feelings. After all, she was just as accountable, if not more so than Rosie ever would be. She'd left Sophie in the midst of all her problems, alone and hurt, struggling to keep her head above water at college, caught up in the war between her feuding parents. At the time, Sian had thought she'd been doing the right thing. She'd convinced herself that she was leaving for Sophie's benefit. That her presence at the Webster's was a complication that she didn't need when there was already so much going on. She honestly thought that with her gone, Sophie would be able to concentrate on her college work, build bridges and make amends with her parents. Had she even the slightest idea that this is how things would have worked out, that she would only help to push Sophie closer to the edge of the precarious ledge she'd been walking, both metaphorically and literally, she'd never have gone. She would have held onto Sophie as though her life depended on it and she'd have never let her go. Deep down though, Sian new that she'd partly left for herself, to get away from the constant sniping, from walking on egg shells at every possible turn. She loved Sophie, she did, but living with her under the external pressure of her parents divorce was affecting their relationship negatively and Sian hadn't want to lose the person she loved because of someone elses problems. Her motives for leaving were both selfless and selfish, born from the need to help Sophie but also helping herself in the process.
Sian felt her stomach cramp once again, but this time, no bile rose and the nausea she was so used to, failed to take a hold of her. Instead she was overwhelmed by remorse, her conscience punishing her physically for the responsibility she now felt over Sophie's predicament.
"What I'm trying to say," Rosie continued, bringing Sian back into the moment. "Is that, you were there for Sophie through all this stuff with me mum and dad. You tried to help her with college, even when she didn't like you for it, when I was too wrapped up in my own drama to listen."
Rosie sighed heavily, deflated.
"I guess I don't really know Sophie at the moment, not like you do…not as well as I should, but," Rosie carried on. "I know that she wouldn't want you to be alone, she'd want to know you were alright and that someone was looking after you."
"Yeah," Sian said dejectedly, "and what about you Rosie, eh? If you're here with me then who's going to be looking after you?"
"Well, I hoped you would," Rosie said laughing despite their situation. "If not though, I've got me mum and Jason…me dad as well I guess."
"Yeah course," Sian responded. "I just, I don't know how good I'll be to you though, I mean….look at me," she gestured to herself, her eyes now freely flowing with the tears which they'd earlier promised. "I'm a right mess, Rosie. What good am I to anyone like this? Especially to Sophie….she needs me to be strong for her."
"No," Rosie disagreed. "She needs us to be here. That's all, just here…now…and when she wakes up."
"What if she doesn't?" Sian asked, her voice trembling, barely able to vocalise her trepidation aloud for fear it would come true.
"Then…we'll still be here," Rosie replied quickly, not wanting to dwell on that terrible thought for too long, "and we'll deal with it together…all of us, ok?"
Sian nodded her head in understanding and Rosie acknowledged it with a smile, squeezing Sian's hand tightly in her own.
"Rosie," Sian began, watching Sophie's sister closely and seeing, not for the first time, a glimpse of her true self. Not the superficial model with a questionable dress sense, or the occasionally loose lipped airhead, but someone who is compassionate and loving, who defended not only Sophie's sexuality when their secret had been revealed, but hers as well. This was the Rosie who had supported Sian and Sophie's relationship ever since she'd found out about it, who'd emptied her purse to help them stay together, helped given them refuge when Sally had found them in bed together at New Years. "Sophie's really lucky to have you as her sister, you know? I know you feel like you've let her down in the past, but; you always come through for her when it really matters."
"Except this time," Rosie mused.
"No," Sian said, this time squeezing Rosie's hand encouragingly, "even now."