Disclaimer: I don't own it. Never have, probably never will.
Arthur was beginning to worry. His ever present and curious guest was nowhere to be found. She had been acting strange this morning eating his cooking with little to no complaint; then again, she hardly ate preferring to pick at her food while staring into space and then disappearing afterwards. It was past dinner time now and he still hadn't seen her and, if he only knew one thing about Evelyn, she never missed a meal.
He ascended the stairs pausing outside her room. The door was cracked open and he could hear faint sniffling from inside.
"Evelyn?" he called softly pushing open the door.
The sniffling stopped. "Hey Artie, what's up?" she asked voice quivering as she tried, and failed, to sound like her normal cheerful self. She was sitting at an angle on her bed hiding something behind her back; her eyes were puffy and rimmed with red.
Arthur leaned against the door frame crossing his arms and effectively pinning her in the room. "You haven't been yourself today." He began, prodding at her gently for information.
"Ah, well, you know, just didn't sleep well last night," she attempted to brush him off.
He cocked an eyebrow at her while looking pointedly at the hand hidden behind her.
Evelyn bit her lip and pulled out the picture she always carried running one finger down the edge thoughtfully. "You've lost someone too, haven't you Artie?" Her voice held a distant air to it.
The Brit stiffened, hands curling into fists at the words. "Why do you assume that?" he asked defensively as he held back from hissing at her.
"There are times when I point out something or ask about something, you get this far away look in your eyes and you try to avoid the subject." Her voice took on an aggressive tone as she tried to verbally make him retreat. "Also, sometimes when you're talking to me, it's like you're remembering someone else." She stared at him fighting the tears as he wouldn't meet her eye.
"Yes, I have, but it was a long time ago." Arthur's voice was distant, defeated, as he forced out the words.
Evelyn nodded looking again at the picture and sniffling at the change in his tone. She had wanted aggression, anger, anything to help her forget. She had never wanted to hurt him—not the one who cared and looked after her as if she was his own family. She looked away from him. "They say that time heals all wounds, but I disagree." She took a shuddering breath before trudging on. "It only numbs you to the pain, makes it bearable, but it never fully heals." Her eyes grew misty as she looked back at him desperate for his emerald eyes to meet hers. "My parents died when I was twelve, on this date. They left me at home by myself to go out to dinner. We had a neighbor across the street who would check up on me, brought me dinner and stuff. When my parents were coming back, they were hit by a drunk driver at the intersection. My dad died on impact. Mom wasn't so lucky." She sniffled rolling her eyes back and looking to the ceiling in a desperate attempt to stop the hot tears from spilling over.
Arthur froze, eyes still not meeting Evelyn's, but he was no longer on the retreat; no longer running from the girl who he was beginning to understand was pleading for someone to stay, not demanding space alone. He moved his head looking at her through his bangs. He had always wondered what exactly happened to her parents, but he wasn't one to pry especially about something as sensitive as this.
"Our neighbor drove me to the hospital," the girl continued her breath hitching as she continued to fight off tears. "When we got there…" she started choking as one does in pain of the heart begins to show itself in the clogging of the throat and nasal passages, "there was nothing they could do for her." Her voice grew thicker as she began to lose her fight. "They tried to make me leave, but I wouldn't. There wasn't anyone else, so I sat and held her hand as she died." Three fat drops slid down her cheeks before she tilted her head down and took a controlling breath. "My grief counselor was the one who told me about time and pain." She looked to him. "Maybe we both just have problems letting things go." She attempted a smile at him, but it was broken in all the wrong places. His heart gave a clench in pain as old memories of blue eyes threatened to surface.
Evelyn wiped away the tears, her breath calming as she shared her pain with him and gained strength from it. "I usually visit their graves just to talk to them you know?" She looked away from him and out the window. "I carry around this picture so I can remember them how they were and not…not what I last saw them as." This time her smile, though not as extravagant as normal, was genuine and laced with hope as she looked at him. Their eyes met for a moment. A new pain made its way into her heart when he looked away from her, pain dancing in his eyes.
Arthur felt guilty. It was because of him she couldn't visit her parents' graves like normal. Perhaps he was being selfish keeping her here, delaying giving her the passport, but then she had stopped asking for it as well. Blue eyes flashed in his mind again as an "Artie" echoed through his mind. He took a deep breath steeling himself. He could nothing about the…he could help Evelyn.
He crossed the short space to her side resting a hand on her shoulder while looking out the window. "He would've liked you."
She looked at him quizzically glad he hadn't fled from her in her moment of cruelty towards him.
"The one I lost. You…remind me a lot of him." His voice was soft, quiet, almost not even there, but it was steady and smooth. It was pain diluted by time. It was a pain that would never leave yet would become more bearable.
Unexpectedly, she hugged him, her fresh tears welling up and soaking through his shirt. The Englishman patted her back awkwardly. He paused just as awkwardly not knowing how to deal with this…or did he?
"How about some tea?" He spoke gently placing a hand on her head for a second before moving it.
Evelyn made a face.
"I'll make hot chocolate for you. Honestly, you Americans can't appreciate a good cup of tea."
She made a sound that was between a laugh and a sob, but it was still an improvement and, for some reason, it made him feel better. This was right.
A/N: Yes, I'm a horrible, horrible person. I made you wait this long and it's so short. However! My lovely beta Fall in Snow pointed out that this chapter and what will now be the next didn't really go together as this one is depressing, bonding moment and the next is cheerful fluff with the BTT! Hmmm, that seems like an oxymoron…anyways…because the next chapter is already written and edited, it will be up shortly. I won't have to wait another month for my beta to actually edit it and then have to rewrite it because she tore it to shreds. *goes to emo corner for a bit* At least it sounds better now.
Remember, reviews are loved and appreciated. Until next time!