She just needs a minute. A second to breathe. Space to scream silently into the void. The image of her mom, battered and bruised, wires everywhere and so damn pale plays on a loop in her mind. On and on. She presses her fists against her eyelids until it hurts and all she sees are colours zooming about in a black abyss.
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He needs to break something. The tension is making his skin crawl. Too many emotions mixed as he grabs at his hair ripping clumps out. He rounds a corner, ignoring the dark shadows and lashes out, kicking a bin over. He watches it tumble along the ground. He follows and kicks it again; the angle is wrong, and pain explodes in his foot. Finally, something he can focus on. Something he deserves.
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She slides down the cool wall, catching her shoulder on the plastic chair rail as she goes. It smarts and she fists her hands, false nails digging into sensitive palms. She hiccups trying to smoother the tears and puts a fist to her mouth and just screams. Water distorts the world, and she curls in on herself. Why?!
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He knows he should go after them. Wants to. Knows it is what she would want but his feet feel like lead and a cold sweat coats his back. Each breath is painful and wet sounding. The walls feel like they are caving in, and he is lost. He can hear their voices in the wind, but each syllable is distorted by the blood rushing in his ears. Finally, his body caves in and he slumps into the chair next to her bed, cradling his head in his hands.