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Everything belongs to BSS and Fox excepting my OC's alone.
Ellie sighed in frustration as she hung up the phone. It was the fifth time that Buck hadn't picked up. Calling Diego, she left a voicemail saying, "What did you do t' that poor boy? Diego, you better apologize for whatever's going on between you two."
She was starting to get worried. The last that she'd seen Diego, her friend had been sullied and more solemn than usual. She frowned. She could ask Shira, but something told her that their new acquaintance was the root of the problem. Ellie sighed louder this time. Boys.
"D' ya have your bags packed?" Cressida called. She flicked a stray lock of straight brown hair over her shoulder.
"Aye, Cressie I'm comin'," Buck answered his sister. He heard her impatiently tapping her red ballet flat at the base of the stairs. He knew without seeing the type of shoe she was wearing- she flaunted them every time they went somewhere. He hoisted the duffel bag over his shoulder and closed his eyes. Standing at the door, poised to open it the boy winced as he whispered, "Here goes nothing."
They dashed through the rain and leapt into the black car, Cressida's cherry nails clicking on the the wet metal as she yanked open a door. As they drove they exchanged towels and backhanded comments.
"Bloody rain," Cressida laughed.
"Everythin's wet," Buck said in a mock tone of disgust. He playfully flicked a droplet of water at his sister as they passed a stoplight.
"Aye, an' yer gettin' the seats mighty damp, as well," she lightly flicked his hair. Buck grimaced.
"Wos wrong?" she asked, the happy tone a bit more subdued, now.
"'Tis nothin'."
"Yer 'urt," she commented, registering with her peripherals the bruises and busted lip on her sibling's face.
"'Tis nothin'," Buck said, verging on growling.
"Okay, okay," Cressida backed off. They drove the rest of the way in painfully loud silence, unvoiced emotions chorusing in an unsightly tumult. Caught in traffic just outside of the city limits, Buck cleared his throat.
Hesitantly, he tried, "I'm sorry." There was a pause.
"It's okay," but Cressida's tone conveyed they weren't done discussing the matter. A scratch of hurt showed itself in her eyes.
He whispered again, more so to himself than to her.
"I'm sorry."
Cressida didn't hear him over the mechanical swipe of the windshield wipers. Buck closed his eyes and pressed his face to the window, calling out soundlessly to an unknown victim.
'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry...'
The other drivers paid him no attention, instead focusing on the rain, the water, and navigation through the crowded city streets. Had they seen him, perhaps they might have thought him apologizing to his sister.
He wasn't.
