Compassion.

Not one individual had made caustic remarks, but he comprehended what they were cogitating. That he was uncontrolled, that his inner was rupturing. Or that he was just a senseless and petty youngster.

Tom and Captain Weaver forced him onto routine medicals from Anne Glass, to constraint his fury with remedies. In a catalyst of momentum, he had crushed the bottle of pills after another godforsaken look of empathy propelled at him.

Resentment. Terror. Compassion. He had seen it all. One thing he had not seen.

Lourdes.

She had overheard it all. The remarks. The gossip. About how their second-in-command had a "cracked" son. Along with "the razorback". She barked at anybody when they approached her, to devour any possible speculations about Hal Mason. He had traumatized her. Lourdes did not betray.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

He was writhing, his cheeks sunken, lips cracked dry, as he tailed down the hallway, eyes cemented to the flooring.

The air around them shushed as he got closer.

Lourdes rapidly examined her surroundings for the nearest exit, no fortune as Hal dragged her into the unfilled schoolroom that had conveniently emerged by their side.

"You've been avoiding me."

Lourdes did not dignify him with a response.

"Justified though." His eyes were swollen. Still? She had individually seen to it, that Anne prescribed him sleeping pills. Hal must have been subsequently agitated, that his form had actually achieved to combat the subduing effects of a sleeping pill.

The air was heavy. Lourdes struggled to command the lump in her throat as her cheeks warmed and her eyes welled.

"I'm so sorry Lourdes." His smooth voice slashed through her, she crashed her watch to her shoes, trusting her toes, nibbling her inner cheek. In order to hinder herself from overflowing into blubbers and hurling herself at him in rage.

Hal stretched for her hand.

Lourdes seized it back before he could comprehend.

The scars.

Hal detected her terror as he sought to touch again; snatching her hand back was futile as he clasped it secure in his. His thumb caressed over the rough, waterproof surface.

"Plasters?"

Lourdes did not answer yet again. Only, Hal lifted her chin with his free hand, so she was looking into his.

"Yes." Her voice was wrecked, fractured. Lourdes inhaled a trembling breath, her jawbone still in Hal's hand but, she evaded his gawk at all costs. "When you left, I tried to pick up the pieces of glass, to hide what you had done. But they cut through the gloves I used."

Hal released her, exhaling and inhaling intense, jagged breaths, he drooped in the seat behind him, concealing his head in his hands. Lourdes stood motionless as she watched his figure tremor and shake.

"Hal…it's okay."

Lethal muteness reverberated around them, Hal gradually raised his eyes towards her; eyes were maddened.

"How can you say that? After everything I've said to you Lourdes?" His voice unstiffened at every note he hit in pitch. He sat there glaring at his hands.

Those were embraced sympathetically by Lourdes.

"I can say that because I know that there's something wrong. Which is why, I demand to know."

Lourdes lifted his chin with her free hand, so he was gazing into her.

"What's happening to you, Hal?"

The clutch was getting tenser Lourdes. I tried, tried so hard to get her back. But, Karen was hacked to fragments; she kept crying and shrieking, reaching out for me. I still hear her when I wake. Then it came for me, snatching at my legs, my back colliding with the rough ground.

I want her back, Lourdes!

I want everything back…Please don't let go of me.

Her shoulder was saturated as Hal wept, his structure compressing her petite figure in a fierce encirclement. All was quietude; Hal's weak sniffles ricocheted round them. Her eyes pricked from the immense force taken her to stifle tears. She craved to be strong for Hal. Her Hal.

"I'm sorry Lourdes."
The urge to slap him was overpowering. Being driven senseless from visions and illusions that mutilated him intensely in the skin and he was sorry?

"Hal, darling you have nothing to be sorry for." She gained possession of his supple, trembling hands, retaining his head firm; she planted a kiss against his forehead, to ooze relief into his mind. He unsealed his eyes. "Now… Hal, you come to me every time you have those awful dreams, do you understand? Wake me up, and talk to me, just as we did not now. Because I can't bear the thought of you doing this on your own."

A crooked smile was thrown at her, drying his tear-soaked eyes, he left her.

Routinely, when Hal Mason would, so cruelly, derive Lourdes of his presence, she would feel a colossal weight in her stomach but, for once; she felt a flimsy weight in her stomach.

In fact…she had butterflies in her stomach.