Great Losses

[FalconX]

Roxanne

A large sigh escaped Roxy's parted lips. The past several months had passed by in a dizzying haze. She felt like she hadn't been a part of the living world. She had returned to Kentucky, those months ago, because her mother had fallen ill. Roxy blinked back tears, that threatened to spill over. Just one short, horrible week ago she had attended her mother's funeral. And now, she was back on her ranch in Nevada. No matter what everyone else said, she was going to pull it together. She wasn't sure how. But she had to. She had no choice in the matter.

Her gaze lifted to look at the sky. It seemed to reflect her mood. Dreary skies and a light sprinkle of rain, creating a sodden ground. No sun in sight, translated to her life, that meant, no hope. She raised her hand and wiped away a tear that had managed to fall without her permission, leaving a smudge of dirt on her cheek. Shaking her head slowly, she tried to bring her focus back to the cleaning that she was doing inside the front of the barn. Gritting her teeth she dropped the broom and exited the large building. Walking through the open barn doors, she breathed in deeply. Trying to reign in her rampant emotions. She felt like she had no one to turn to and no where she belonged.

Walking back into the barn, she made her way to one of her race horse's stalls. Flying on Broken Wings. A low nicker greeted her, usually, that would have made her smile. But she hadn't smile in two months. She entered Wing's stall, walking slowly so she didn't spook her. Her gaze was on the mare's elegant head and she stopped to stand beside the bay horse. Slowly she lifted her arms and encircled the mare's neck. Hugging the her and finally letting her tears pour down her cheeks. The mare's warmth offering a sense of comfort. The long, finely combed mane pressed against Roxy's face.

For: OPEN

[Forte!]

Rory felt dumb. Really dumb. He knew he shouldn't be here... but... he had been brought up in Texas. And in Texas you walked fifteen miles down the road with food for a barn raising, or flowers for a wedding, or a fruitcake for a distraught widow. It was just something you did. Not something you thought about. And that was his problem. He hadn't thought about it, and now he was feeling dumb and had no where to turn to. Walking back down the road wasn't really an option. Grace would probably eat his head - after all, it was practically her fault he was down here. She had turned him out of the house, and all the same some part of him wanted to come. Some part of him wanted to see his long gone friend, a person who he cared about and wanted to comfort. And that part of him had apparently got hold of his feet.

Now that his logical brain had apparently decided to make a comeback, he stood like an idiot with his mouth hanging half-open and his hat in his hands, his fingers lightly tapping the rim in a reflection of his usual incessant motion. His hair was plastered to his head in strange little cowlicks and occasionally burst upwards in a single spike where the hat had been constantly on his head. Presently, he looked toward the barn, as if trying to convince his feet to move, but he was rooted in place. He knew that Roxy was in there. He had seen her walk in from far down the road, but of course had kept his mouth shut and looked down at his feet. That was about the moment when his brain had gotten the best of his heart, and now the two were duking it out. Finally, with a decisive nod of the head, he strode slowly toward the barn, looking down at his feet, pausing at the door. Here, he could hear the soft sounds of crying, and it nearly wrenched his heart out of his chest.

A corner of his mouth twitched, and for a moment he fought back tears. He knew how she felt. He really did. Well, sort of. He supposed it was different for every person, to lose someone so important. For a moment he felt like turning back again, leaving her alone to grieve... but... no, he couldn't do that. His heart had set up a steady, persistent tattoo across his chest. No, he could not just leave her to grieve friendless and alone. "Roxy?" he said, finally, quietly. There was a good deal of gravel in his voice, as he stepped slowly into view, gulping at the sight of her, his face flushing. Why the heck had he done this? Oh well. Not like he could leave now.

[FalconX]

Roxanne

Horse had always seemed to make Roxy happier. Now, though, she feared that even they couldn't bring her spirits up. There seemed to a sharp pain in her chest, a hollowness of sorts. The world shattering resolve that she would no longer see her mother ever again, it seemed to much for her to handle. How was she supposed to cope with this loss, and continue to run her ranch? To actually prosper. She was already behind in bills and it seemed she was losing her love for the fast action of competing. Then again, that was probably just sadness talking. Even if she wanted to, how could she afford to keep her ranch? It required tremendous concentration, and lately, she just didn't have that. Truthfully, she wasn't sure how soon she was going to get that back. There was the large question, would she get that back in time to save her ranch from going under?

The light whinny of the patient mare dragged Roxy out of her thoughts. "You don't understand what's wrong do you, Wings?" She whispered, pulling back slightly and stroking the mare's neck. She sniffed, trying to get control of her tears. With a sigh, she leaned back into the mare, the tears still running down her cheeks. For the last few weeks, it seemed that she had an endless supply of tears. A million questions had raced through Roxy's mind since her mother's funeral the previous week. Questions, that she assumed everyone asked if someone close to them died. Why did she have to die? Wasn't there something I could have done? Something, anything, to make her better. She bit her bottom lip, knowing that the questions would never bring her mom back. Even with that reality, she couldn't stop the questions from racing through her mind. It just wasn't fair, it wasn't right. She gritted her teeth and for a moment anger coursed through her veins. She could hardly count how many times people have come up and said "Life isn't fair" when she had said the previous statement. She remembered the faces of people at her mother's funeral. People she hadn't seen for years. Those people hardly knew her mom, yet they were there, acting like they knew what she was going through.

A voice broke into her thoughts, she froze. Tears still streaming down her face, but more silently now that she knew someone was there. It took a moment for her to recognize that the voice belonged to her friend, Rory. She blinked quickly, wanting to get rid of the tears that hadn't fallen. She pulled away from the horse and wiped away the tears, but the steaks remained on her face. Roxy turned around slowly, seeing him with his hands on his hat, looking rather uncomfortable. What a lousy situation. The pain was evident in her eyes and she quickly looked away from him. Not wanting him to see her when she was at a real low point in her life. "Uh... Hey, Ro-ory" Her voice trembled as she said his name and another tear slid down her cheek. She closed her eyes and breathed in, willing herself to stop crying. Slowly, she opened her eyes again. Reaching up, she tucked a strand of hair that had escaped the ponytail, behind her ear. She looked at him cautiously, her eyes now a little bit guarded. She didn't need more people to hurt her. She was dealing with her mother's death, her father's betrayal as he closed up his ranch, and her sister's cruelty at not even coming to the funeral. "What're y-ou doing-g here?"

[Forte!]

Rory stared at the muddy tips of his boots, unable to meet her eyes, unable to look up to see that distraught face once again. For a single, gut-wrenching moment, her face had reminded him so much of his father that he could hardly bear it. Of himself, too, and of his sister, and of everyone who had stood under black umbrellas in the light drizzle that had adorned the funeral. Or at least he thought it had rained. He could never be so sure, because he never wanter to remember, and so he tried not to. And he had run and run and run away as fast as he could. Would he ever stop running? It didn't seem like it. After all, coming here had meant basically abandoning the shell of a dad that was left to him in the sweltering heat and the lonely fields of Texas. He wandered, in a vague, disconnected sort of way, if Roxy had been running, too. When his voice finally brought his chin up, the corner of his mouth was twitching, and he had his tongue held in his teeth to stop himself from crying, or doing anything dumb. The rational side of him was busy trying to figure out what he was supposed to say in this situation, while all the while he just wanted to go to her... To tell her that it wouldn't last forever. But he couldn't, because that would be a lie. It might get easier... maybe heal over a little... but it was still tender and raw for the rest of your life and anytime anyone or anything touched that place you could hardly hold back sobs.

A long silence stretched out, and Rory took a step forward... then a step back, as if fighting with himself. He settled for just answering her question, though. "I... I heard why you'd been gone..." he said, quietly, somberly, "and I didn't bring you a fruitcake." He said it with as much solemnity as if announcing some tragic news, and then bit his lip and looked away, not bothering to explain. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Apparently he wasn't even in control over the words that crossed his lips at this point. His brain seemed to have shut down, and as he looked back up again he seemed as if he had something that was bothering him, nagging at the edges of his mouth. The effect was that he looked rather uncomfortable, but in a way that suggested that he knew he needed to be here. He met her eyes, all other motion ceased except for a little twitch at the corner of his mouth and the light play of a pinky on the edge of his hat as he let it drop to one hand, letting the other hang limp and useless at his side. His lips parted slightly, then closed, and then, finally, he seemed to find the courage to say what he wanted to. "I know it sounds stupid... and you've probably heard it a million times... but I know how you feel." God, he had been glad for the rain. A blessing to hide his own tears.

"...and it doesn't get any easier, just so you know," he said, quietly, almost inaudibly, eyes still fixed on hers even though he felt ashamed. Like he should look away. He twitched a little, still trying to battle against the side of him that just wanted to go to her and tell her that everything was going to be alright. But... he couldn't lie to her, and anyway he remembered. He remembered how his father had not shed a tear, only stood there with the corner of his mouth twitching, a little tic that they shared. And how Grace had looked on, not understanding... And he had wandered why he was the only one who was red-faced with tears rolling down his cheeks, lapped up by the cold tics of rain that splashed against his exposed face and bitten by the cold wind that seemed to haunt that day. "Never..." this was spoken so hoarsely that it seemed that only his lips moved, and instantly he looked down again, biting his lip, keeping his tongue in cheek to stop it from running away on him.

[FalconX]

Roxanne

Roxy looked away again when he wouldn't look up either. It was evident he didn't really want to be here. Maybe he felt like he was required to come since he was her friend. She didn't feel like being a charity case, a commitment, a requirement, or whatever you wanted to call it. She just wanted the pain to go away, or at least reduce to a dull ache. Her brown eyes no longer lit up with friendliness, and jest, the were dull, except for the pain that was clearly shown, almost lifeless in a way. She looked down at her boots like he was doing, she drew a circle with the toe of her boot. Looking towards Wings, she gave the mare a soft pat on the neck, then turned and slipped out of the horse's stall, careful to latch it when she exited. She turned slowly, until she was facing Rory again. She braced herself, expecting him to say the exact same things that the others had said. The situation seemed impossible, how did anyone get through something like this. And yet, Roxy knew people got through things like this all the time. This was just the first time, that that person was her. She looked up at Rory, knowing that he had gone through the death of his mother. How had he gotten through it? Was that why he was here? She knew he was one of the people who could say that he knew what she was going through, and be telling the truth. But did she really want to here it? The pain was to fresh, the unseen wound still open and raw. She just... didn't know what to do.

She tensed when he took a step toward her, then watched as he took a step back. As if he couldn't decide what he should do. True, if she was stuck in his shoes, she wouldn't know what to do either. "Right, small town. No privacy, I almost forgot." She mumbled, not really talking to him. At his next comment the corner of her mouth twitched, the closest she had come to a smile in a long while. She appreciated that he was here, he was being a friend, she felt bad for doubting his motives for coming. The fruit thing was only a little bit funny because at the funeral everyone brought one, and in truth, Roxy hated fruitcakes. Plus, the way he sad it was slightly funny. But it still wasn't enough to get her to really smile. Her eyes were still devoid of laughter as she watched him quietly. Her flow of tears had finally ceased, but the streaks on her face and the redness of her eyes gave evidence to the fact that they had been there recently. She was slightly surprised when he finally met her eyes and she flinched visibly, not meaning to in the slightest. She just wasn't used to people looking at her directly anymore. Her dad wouldn't look at her, her mom was dead now, and everyone who came to her funeral... they avoided her except to express their 'condolences'.

"I know." She replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She tried to reign in any angry feelings she felt when she heard the all to familiar phrase. Roxy looked up sharply at his next statement, her ponytail swinging around and the hairs stinging the side of her face from the fast paced movement. Despite the depressing statement, she felt gratitude towards him. Finally, someone was being honest with her. She looked directly into his eyes, trying to discern what he was thinking. Trying to figure him out in general. Another tear slid down her cheek, almost without her realizing it. The slow raindrops caused a loose strand of hair to plaster up against her cheek. She tilted her head to the side as he said one word but then stopped. She took one step forward so that he was only a couple of feet from her. She looked down at the ground again, kicking her book against the dirt in frustration. "It's just not right." Tears once again rolled down her face, this time they were tears of anger. Life wasn't fair. How true that statement was.

[Forte!]

Rory turned his head away again, looking up at the sky. The raindrops hit his face, shattering into fragments and flying back up for an instant before falling to the Earth. Little drops of water clung to his eyelashes and hair, but the shower was only dashing, and he wasn't completely soaked. the tips of his ears were red, but the rest of his face was still pale, as if he'd seen a ghost. And, really, he felt as if he had, looking at the empty-eyed girl who had come in place of the laughing, jolly one he had left. He looked back at her with just the barest trace of a grin in the corners of his mouth. He was glad to see her again, he really was, and he had missed her. And she was his friend, even if she was sad and alone and hopeless and needed his help. She was his friend, and he knew that and wanted to be here for as long as she needed him. His smile faded into a frown as he studied her, her expression and the little nuances that betrayed her discomfort. Had he come too soon? He remembered how he had felt... how they all had felt. And sympathy had driven them away from home, into a place as dismal as their hearts. Flint was not a town where people knew one another, not a town where you could shake hands and sit on the porch with even your enemies. "Look..." Rory said, barely audible over the pitter-patter of rain, "If you want me to leave, I will... But I figured you might need someone to talk to. Someone who really understands, you know. I probably would've curled up and died if not for my sister - and I know that in that regard you're not as lucky."

"I'm not here to bother you, honest. If I'm typical, you'll've had enough of that by now anyway. But I just wanted to let you know that I'm here if you need me, and I'm not going anywhere except maybe back to my ranch if you don't want me..." he trailed off, realizing that he'd said too much, and looked away, embarrassed. His accent was creeping up on him, as it often did when he was riled, and he was rambling on slightly. He met her eyes again after she spoke, with a quiet nod, not really knowing what to say. It was a small town. And she sounded a bit resentful of the fact, even though he hoped that she wasn't. He had hated living in the city, even if that hate was only sprung from a general distaste for the world at the time. He was still frowning silently as she stepped toward him, unsure whether to mirror the gesture, looking at her steadily as she seemed to be trying to figure something out. What? He wondered. What was there more to know? He had no hidden intention, no need for one. He lowered his gaze slightly, hat still in hand as the raindrops fell slowly off of his neck and around the collar of his shirt, determinedly dappling him with wet. When he looked up there was a ring of damp around his throat, dappled wet and dry across his back and arms. When he blinked, rain fell from his lashes like tears.

At her next statement, the corner of his mouth quivered and he stepped forward, reaching out an arm in an almost perfunctory gesture, but stopped there and stood, arm falling slowly back, staring at her. They were so close now he could feel the residual heat of her skin rising from the cool, wet air around, and the lines around his eyes and forehead were deeply crinkled, as if he might burst into tears. A single spasm gripped his shoulders, a silent sob, and he shook his head slightly, not even enough to dislodge the drops of water that shone like diamonds among the strands of dampened hair. "N-no... it's not, is it?" he said, shakily, as if gripped by some emotion. It wasn't fair that his mother should be murdered. It wasn't fair that hers should die. But it happened anyway. "It's not right, and it's not fair, and we have to live with it anyway. I used to think it was hardly worth it." His voice trembled a little, but he managed to keep eye contact, his hand inadvertently tightening around the much-abused rim of his hat. "But... it is, it really is, and..." he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

[FalconX]

Roxanne

Roxy felt horrible that her mood was making Rory depressed. Perhaps even reminding him of his family. It wasn't right that she was doing this to him. He was trying to be a friend to her, yet it was costing him. He was hurting, and she knew it. A rain drop landed on her face and mingled with her silent tears, to where you could distinguish between that of the rain and her true tears that fell from her eyes. If it weren't for the red rimmed and empty eyes, no one would have realized she was crying. She felt like collapsing to the sodden ground in a pathetic sobbing heap. She gritted her teeth to keep from following through with that thought. Her hands clenched, and the short nails bit into the calloused skin of her palm. She glanced up at him when he started to talk, it was obvious that this was getting hard for him. Unsure of what to say to her. A bitter smile twisted across her lips as he said she wasn't as lucky, in reference to her sister. That was the understatement of the year. "Not quite one for moral support, that's for sure." She whispered back.

When she stepped forward, he just looked down. She bit her bottom lip, and looked away from him. She scuffed the toe of her boot in the dirt again. Roxy almost wished she was wearing her hat, so that it could at least partially shadow her face. Keep him from seeing her as clearly. "No..." She broke off at the one little word. "It was nice of you to come." She finally managed to force the rest of the words from her mouth. She hadn't talked this much without being in a fight with someone in awhile. Mainly, her sister and father. She cocked her head to the side, and her gaze slid to look at the entrance to the barn. As if desiring an escape from this incredibly complicated situation. Turning and running was foolish and cowardly, but at the current moment, it was looking more and more appealing.

She watched as he stepped forward and reached out with one of his arms. His arms slid back down and he just stared at her, just like she was watching him. No words passed between them at the moment, and there was hardly any space between them, or rather, not the normal amount. The dampness caused by the rain made her green t-shirt stick to her skin. She nodded, barely visible as he agreed to her angry words. She looked up at him, her brown eyes still showing the pain of what she had gone through. He stopped talking, his voice fading like it hadn't been there moments before. It seemed, he was out of words, having trouble picking ones that would help. She inched forward till she was closer, and then slung her arms around his neck, giving him a brief hug, before letting go, and then backing away from him. A pale pink tinting her previously pasty white cheeks. She was never one to be shy, but she was embarrassed by her rash actions. She just needed to be comforted, and he was her closest friend.

[Forte!]

Rory met her eyes again as she responded to him, his head lightly to one side, suddenly curious as if surprised. That sentence had held some last remnant of Roxy-ness that had made him almost think that this ghost was, in fact, his friend. His best, friend, really, since he had no others to call that. A frown traced the corners of his mouth as he gazed at her steadily, unsure of what to do but sure that he needed to be here, now. His gaze softened as he looked at her, ignoring the hair plastered by rain on his face and the fact that the storm had redoubled its efforts and seemed to have focused on soaking him and making the ground beneath him treacherous. He didn't seem to be wavering on the edge of leaving anymore, but rather secure in his place and his reason for coming. And he was glad that he had, because otherwise he would have never forgiven himself. He stuck his hat on his head, deflecting the further raindrops that assailed him, and took a deep breath, letting it catch in his throat for just an instant before exhaling. "It's nice to see you again, it really is," he said, falling on some terrible cliche, something he said all the time. He felt awful for it.

After that, he stopped talking, he had nothing to say, nothing to say it about. Things kept bumping up against his tongue and falling flat before tripping on through his mouth. "Thank you," he said, quietly. Just a moment before, he had been trying to figure out what he could do for her, but now they seemed to have switched roles. Here she was, lying for him, lying to make him not feel like such an idiot. And here he was, still as idiotic as ever, watching the hypnotic motion of her foot in the dry dirt that existed on her side of the barn, something that had become a scarce commodity where he was standing. He caught the sideways motion of her eyes, and his heart nearly leapt off his tongue, getting aught in his throat. Oh! He had run! He had run so far that he hardly know anything at all, and then he had kept running until he had fallen face down in the dirt. "Roxy..." he was fighting to be heard over the torrent, now, "I'm sorry. So sorry. I'm sorry for standing out here in the rain looking like an idiot. I'm sorry for showing up here, uninvited and unannounced, when I knew what you had been through. I hate to add a little more to your pain, because I know how hard it is to bear it. How hard it is to hold your head up when everything and everyone keeps forcing it down."

He stopped, watching her feet still, quieted by her steady advance. He looked up at her, and he knew what was coming, and felt all the more like running. But he stood, rooted, and in that brief moment that her arms were around his neck, the battle between his heart and his head was lost. The fact that he looked like a soaked dog didn't matter anymore, and he stood his eyes rooted on hers, as she backed away, and then, slowly, carefully, the seconds seeming to bend and slow around him, he stepped forward, beyond the assailing line of rain, and reached out to her, returning her embrace. No longer did the raindrops hide his tears, and no longer did he bite his lip and hide them. "Oh, Roxy..." he whispered, the roaring din quieting now as he came into the dry area. "Oh, Roxy, my friend, I'm here. And I'm already wet. A few teardrops can hardly hurt me."

((I should not write posts after 10 PM on daylight savings time. Nope. Definitely not))

[FalconX]

Roxanne

She nodded her head as he said it was nice to see her. In all honesty, it was great to see him to, it was just crummy circumstances that they had both been pushed in. Or rather, she had been pushed into it, he didn't have to come, yet he had chosen to. She scuffed the dirt with the toe of her boot, yet again, there was already a patch of ground that had no dirt whatsoever on it. She grimaced, and tried to think of something to do or say that would make this situation less awkward than it was. Unfortunately, that seemed to be impossible. With a measure of control she managed to stop herself from kicking her boot tip into the dirt again. WIth jerky movements, she lifted her head to look back up at Rory, biting her bottom lip as she did so, trying to keep it from trembling, she knew she'd break down and cry again if she allowed it to.

She listened to him ramble, not saying anything. He was trying, at least he was trying. And she was grateful that he was doing that much. Besides, what else could he do? She hadn't meant to hug him, but she did. When she stepped back, suddenly unsure, he seemed to decide for her. She watched him step forward and felt his arms encircled her, listening to his quiet voice. Her tears leaked down her cheeks and her shoulders shook as she sobbed. After crying so much, you would think she would run out of tears. Of course, that wasn't the case. She squeezed her eyes shut, wishing her problems would just vanish. But her wish went unanswered, as had the many before it.

"This is a horrible situation isn't it?" She looked up at him, offering a weak and watery-eyed smile. But, it was a smile, the first she had done in a long time. Though it didn't seem to, he had really helped lift her spirits. Just being there, being a true friend, that was what she had needed, and what no one had given. Until Rory had come. She took a step back, causing her to no longer be surrounded by her friend's arms. She cocked her head slightly and seemed almost shy about what had just happened. She hated crying, exposing weakness to others, even if those people were her close friends.

Roxy glanced away from Rory as she felt something twining around her legs, she looked down. A tiny smile lifting the corners of her lips as she saw the small calico kitten named Trekker. She bent down and picked up the tiny kitten, loving the feel of the little paws resting on her arm, she cuddled the kitten in her arms, her brown eyes still held the pain, but it wasn't as sharp. Friends were taking that away, the pain would stay, but it could lessen, maybe... At least, she could live with it, move on day to day. She glanced up at Rory, her brown eyes holding some of their old sparkle, she offered him a smile, a real smile, not as bright and sunny as before, but much brighter than the previous. She gave the kitten a soft squeeze, "We're both going to get a cold." She said, light humor lacing her words. Almost as if the previous emotional scene was forgotten.

[Forte!]

Rory felt her trembling against him, and shuddered slightly, bowing his head a little bit as if under some great weight. Her shoulders and what he could see of her eye were all that told him that she was crying, through the rain that soaked his entire being he could feel no addition to the water that was already there. His green eyes traced the creases of her eyes, the sad little wrinkles of pain and sadness that crept across her face. Oh, he knew what that was like. To feel like you'd never run out of tears to cry. To be angry beyond belief, and sad, and morose, and even depressed. And he had been so angry. Angry enough to want to get his hands around everyone's throats: the man who had killed his mother, his sad shell of a father, all those people who had come bearing gifts with tears in their eyes. He needed no gifts. He only needed for the Earth to once again be stable under his feet, to stop twisting and turning and bucking at every turn. To have some stability, some semblance of sanity, some respite from the pain and the anger that reared its ugly head at every turn.

He let his arms slip from her shoulders as she stepped back, nodding quietly in response to the question. "Yeah, it is. But now you don't have to feel crummy alone," he said, with a little grin as he took his hat off again and traced the edge lightly with his fingers. He remembered how she had helped him pick it out, after his faithful old stetson had been trampled by one of the loves of his life. It had been worth it. It was strange how the barn roof sheltered them, blocking out everything with a sound barrier of rain. The smallest sounds were illuminated, as if they were off in a bubble of their own, shutting off the excess noise and sound and trapping that which was there. Even the quietest whisper was heard. Rory frowned slightly, studying Roxy with his head to the side a hair, as if trying to figure something out. His lips parted slightly, as if to speak... but he was interrupted by a flash of light and a subsequent CRA-ACK that caused him to jump about six feet into the air, twisting and shaking as if to rid himself of his very skin.

"H-a..." he laughed, his voice shaking as he looked out at the sheet of rain that tumbled in a cacophonous flight to the ground. He nodded at her statement, barely looking over and looking slightly nervous. They didn't get many thunderstorms where he lived. "Y-yeah... Unless, of course, I manage to die of shock first." The adrenaline stopped making his heart race, and he turned back to her with a half-grin, eyes widening slightly as he saw the cat. He wasn't exactly a cat person. Or a dog person, for that matter. That was his sister's job. Actually, he hadn't been aware that Roxy owned a cat. Or that a cat would dare get this close to a rainstorm. But then he saw Roxy's slight, almost sad, smile, and he looked away from the cat and the storm and frowned at her, the creases in his forehead becoming more pronounced. Would he ever be able to figure her out? Probably not, but that just made it all the more beautiful and wonderful that she was here and he was here, and that somehow in the darkness of a storm they had reached out to one another and attempt to trade one load for another, to bear as one what they couldn't apart.