[COMPLETE]
Characters: Rayne, Alfons, Not!Oz
Setting: Panopticon
Time: Night 009
Summary: Alfons finds Rayne.
Warnings: None that I can think of.
“...Ducky, we need to go.”
Curled up in the corner, as far away from Alfons as she could get, Rayne didn’t answer. Then again, she hadn’t answered to much of anything, for a while. Even the food that the guards had left had gone untouched, including the blood. She had obviously suffered from it, a bit gaunt in the face, her burns barely healed at all, horrible and blistered red against the white of her skin. However, the lack of anything in her eyes had nothing at all to do with her reduced appetite.
Her eyes were... dead, even as they stared at the corpse that she had shared a cell with for days. There were no emotions, no coldness, no light behind them at all. It was as if someone had put shutters up. Nothing was there, but then again, there wasn’t much left of Rayne either.
Alfons wasn't sure when the scent trail started to become more prominent, or when he had decided to follow it in the first place. One moment he was sitting in the kitchen, and the next, his nose was aflare and his mind was whirling, sudden inspiration hitting him as he followed the familiar scent (where, where, where was it before?) down the strange corridors and hallways that made up this infernal house.
How long had he been searching? Who knows, it could have been hours. Alfons himself felt a surge of adrenaline as he went along with the smell, his once-weak body reveling in the thought of the chase, of the hunt, as it will...a damn primitive instinct coming to fruit, especially in a time of such worry and alarm. His fist was clenched at one side, and his nose slightly upwards, sniffing.
He had to follow it. She'd be there, right?
Alfons quickened his pace, feet clicking on the floors, arms tensing...
Only for the rooms to become darker, and the air to become mustier. The smell was closer, he could almost taste it now...but where the walls had been stone had the scent of hard, cold steel...blood was fresh in the air and it made his pulse pound, body ripple with thirst. It had been a while since he'd last fed, hadn't it? Or maybe it was his own emotions causing the hunger--he himself wasn't sure yet.
Where was he?
The scent was everywhere, but still, nowhere. Cells, cells...metal, stone, and many other scents that he couldn't pinpoint just yet...
But hers was there among it.
He knew that--it was too strong.
He stepped further into the darkness, superhuman senses still adjusting to the lack of light.
"Rayne, where are you?" He whispered, "Are you even here? No, you have to be..."
For a brief moment, her eyes moved from the body a few feet in front of her, to flicker up towards the open door of the cell. Another hallucination... Angie left, and her mind replaced her. How... Lips parting in a silent and humorless laugh, Rayne’s hands scrabbled at the wall as she got to her feet, stumbling to the door. Stopping suddenly as a large and strong hand reached out to grab her wrist, the redhead looked down at Oz, her hysterical expression crumpling. “...I didn’t mean to.” She answered, voice hoarse, cracking from days of misuse, and hours of screaming before that.
His ears had pricked at the sound of the voice. It had to have been--there was no mistake that it was--
It had to be.
Alfons, slowly, slipped down further into the darkness, eyes finally adjusted and willing to guide him through the lack of light. He had to be quiet...even with the familiar voice, who knew what this damn house was trying to pull, and if someone heard him...
No, no. He could defend himself. With this new body, he could at least run away if it got too bad, but only when Rayne got out,
if she was in fact--
Trembling, his feet moved slowly across the floor, making sure not to scuff anything, or make any noise. He couldn't make a sound. No, no, not a sound...
He turned a corner, peeking, only to catch a flash of red in front of him.
Red.
Not blood, but--
Hair. Red HAIR.
Alfons turned fully into the doorway, only for the sight itself to make his heart sink.
“I didn’t mean to.” Rayne repeated, looking at Alfons as Oz let go of her arm, eyes wide with a bare hint of hysteria starting to shine through the complete emptiness. The fact that her face was burned, gaunt only heightened her look of insanity, along with the fact that her hair was filthy, bloody in places where it looked like she had ripped it out before it had grown back. And her arms were bloody halfway up to her elbows, old, dried, the reason why behind her. “I- I went to sleep. And when I woke up... When I woke up...” Trailing off, she laughed again, this one making a sound, though it was far too high, shaky.
Rayne didn't have to say anything more, for in moments, Alfons was already in front of her, on his knees, arms wrapped around her back and pulling her close. Soft, almost tender sounds escaped his lips as he held her, unintelligible as they were, and his arms could only tighten around her, holding her closer and closer.
What was this feeling? Protectiveness, fear, sadness...
Rage.
Rage at whatever had done this to her, was doing similar things to everyone in the house. Whatever it was...whoever they were, Alfons was certain that they would not get away with it.
You say this now, he thought to himself, But when you face it, you'll be worse off than she is now. You won't be able to fight against it.
It's true. Alfons wasn't strong. He was not at all the sort of man who could fight something, and if confronted...
No, no, no, no!! He didn't need to think about that now. All that mattered was her. All that mattered was...
"Shhhh. It's all right. Everything's going to be all right..."
Collapsing against him, trembling hands weakly grasping his shirt, Rayne acted as if she didn’t hear. “And Oz kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, but I killed you, and Angie left me, too, and now I only have the two of you...”
”Ducky, I wouldn’t go and be bringin’ me inta this.” Oz murmured, still inside the cell, watching Alfons most than Rayne, wary. Of course, he could look all he wanted. It wasn’t like anyone other than Rayne would be able to see or hear him.
...Oz?
Alfons wasn't sure whether or not to press the issue. Perhaps it was just...it was just a systemic method of dealing with intense stress (wasn't that what that accursed book had discussed? God knew that Alfons wasn't the best student of Freud, but...)? With her like this, she had to have gone through plenty of pain and horrors--enough to warrant such a thing.
Or, there was the chance that he was, in fact, really there, and he just couldn't see them. This house was a strange place, after all...anything and everything could happen, and it was a good idea not to leave anything out for probability's sake.
But...
This damn house. Everything. Everything, everything was wrong here. He hadn't died, he was right there...what kind of things had Rayne seen while she was in here?
"Well," Alfons said, gently, "Oz was wrong, because you didn't kill me. It was all just a bad dream. It's okay..."
”Kept tellin’ her. Didn’t make any sense that that thing in here woulda just disappeared, and there you suddenly were. She ain’t really been all that wantin’ ta listen ta logic, though.” Oz muttered, unheard, silently prowling out of the cell to lean against one of the outside walls.
Turning to look back at the werewolf, his eyes already glowing golden orange because of nightfall, Rayne looked between him and Alfons for a moment. “...You can’t see him.” It was aimed at Alfons, words falling flat. “Over there, against the wall. You can’t see - Or hear him, can you?”
"Can I...?"
Alfons blinked a moment, tilting his head. Glancing up, he looked exactly where she said...Corner, wall...
..Nope.
Nobody was there. Was it something only Rayne could see, if he was in fact there at all?
"...I'm sorry. I can't see him."
“...” Silent, Rayne turned back to look at the werewolf again, who simply stared back, raising an eyebrow. Looking at Alfons again, her brow furrowed, before she looked down at her hands. “...I want you to. See what I see.” Raising her hands, she hesitated, not wanting to touch him with her hands so filthy. “I don’t know if this - I’ve only heard things.” She explained, jumbled, before lightly laying her fingers on his temples, her own eyes bleeding to red as she tried to will the aura vision she had to him.
If it worked... If. He would see Oz.
"Wait, ho--"
Alfons's body, for a moment, lurched forward. What was this energy? It was hot, burning--it went through his veins and pulsed in his neck, sitting in his temples and playing with his toes....
For that flash, Alfons felt like he wanted to throw up. Too much, too much, too much, too much! Too much, too quickly, his body was shaking, his body was screaming,
not used to the intrusion of...whatever this was. This was not normal, this was not what he was used to, no no no no no!
Trembling, Alfons looked up, neck feeling weak even as he did so (his head, it felt too heavy...even as it cleared, it was too heavy, too heavy)...
...!
There was certainly a man there.
What?
Taller than he, bulkier...darker skinned, with golden eyes and...something else was off about him. He didn't seem like Alfons had once been, or like anyone else he had run into here. It was hard to explain how, exactly...
What was...
"...Are you...?" Alfons choked, eyes still adjusting to the new vision, somehow the light had even changed...
Doing her best to support Alfons’ face as he looked towards Oz, Rayne felt what little energy she had left rapidly draining. Eyes closing as her vision blurred and swayed, her hands started to tremble even more as she forced herself to hold on.
”...Boo.” Oz replied, voice growling and rumbling from his chest like thunder. Lips curling into a wolfish grin, he raised a hand to send Alfons a little sarcastic salute. It faded after a moment, however, before he nodded towards Rayne. ”Might wanna stop her, before she passes out. Ducky’s got a bad habit of never knowin’ when ta stop.”
"Not know when to--" Alfons blinked a moment, still unsure of what he was seeing. The image was growing fainter, softer...flickering, almost like something that someone decades later than his time would call a Television Screen. Colors were fading together, his own body starting to feel weak...
!!!
Not know when to stop.
That was when Alfons grabbed Rayne's shoulders, shaking her not hard, but firmly, voice raising slightly in concern, perhaps even panic.
Panic.
That wasn't uncommon to him these days, was it?
"Rayne, stop this! Please! It's all right! Stop!"
Hands slipping from his forehead, they limply fell to her lap as she nearly collapsed, head falling to rest on his shoulder. “Just wanted you to see him... Like I do...” She slurred, slipping in and out of German. Eyes fluttering, Rayne let them fall closed, just wanting to sleep and not wake up for a long time now. “Wish you could have met him, before they killed him. Woulda loved him. I did.”
"Rayne, what..."
Alfons's arms caught her quickly, pulling her to him. There was no way he was going to let her fall. Not here, not in this place...it was bad enough that he had let her get into this state as it was.
...yes. It was his fault. It was all his fault. If he had been there, maybe he could have...
"Rayne," He whispered, "It's okay. Shhhh..."
An old lover. That's who that man was, right?
He had to be.
But...would he be able to...
...No. Now wasn't the time to think about that.
"Just don't talk. I'm going to get you out of here, and maybe find you something to eat, if I can. Just save your strength...you don't have much of it left as it is..."
“He woulda loved you, too.” She murmured, before falling quiet, sensing Oz tense up against the wall he was leaning on, feeling his gaze trying to burn a hole through her skull. Something to eat... Her mind tried to focus on those three words, but they swirled just out of her reach, unable to fully grasp and comprehend their meaning.
”Brin’ her to tha kitchen. She’s got some kinda fancy gadget there, she can find food.” Oz rumbled, forgetting or either not caring that Alfons couldn’t hear him. Rayne at least could.
“...Kitchen.” Rayne mumbled, repeating the word.
"He woulda loved you, too..."
...THAT man?! That handsome man?! Loved HIM?! If this wasn't such a serious situation, Alfons would have choked.
But it wasn't the time for things like that. That was saved for the times where he was alone, a dark room surrounding him and only his own thoughts to keep him company.
"Kitchen," she had said.
Kitchen...that's right. He could take her there and get something easily.
"I'm going to carry you," Alfons whispered. "I don't think you can walk on your own. Is that all right?"
“Okay.” She whispered, not having the energy to even argue with him, or feel shame at being so weak. She should be the one protecting him, until he became accustomed to his new body, his new powers, and yet... And yet, here she was. Pathetic.
Starting to life her arms to wrap around his neck, Rayne suddenly felt Oz kneeling behind her, large hands gentle as he helped guide her arms into place. She could smell his worry, and for the first time since she couldn’t remember when, there was finally something to overpower the scent of death, of decay, of days old blood, of bodies that had been held prisoner. “I’ll be okay, Oz.” Burying her face against Alfons neck, she inhaled his scent, wanting to block out everything, and the smell of Oz’s worry on top of it. “Alfons has me.”
Did he have her? It felt like it...Alfons's arms were already wrapping around her (one on her back, one tucked under her legs), body bracing itself for the inevitable pain as he moved to lift her u--
...? Wait. She didn't feel heavy. The old him wouldn't have been able to lift her a few inches off the ground, much less as he was lifting her now.
Did changing really bring that MUCH of a change? She felt almost...light. Like her burden wasn't even really a burden at all.
"It's okay." He whispered, too wrapped in his own thoughts to notice any words coming out of her mouth, "I'll get you there as quickly as I can. Please, just hold on."
“I’ll be okay...” She quietly repeated, lips barely moving against his skin. “...I missed you.” Rayne’s voice wavered, just slightly, the events of the past... week ? Month? ...quickly catching up to her, making her want to break down in his arms right then and there, but she somehow fought it back. For now.
In mid-stride, Alfons stopped for a split second.
"Rayne..."
It was then when his gaze went down towards her, concern melting into a soft, gentle smile (of relief, he was sure).
"I missed you, too. I'm sorry that I wasn't there to..."
And then he was walking again.
Setting: Panopticon
Time: Night 009
Summary: Alfons finds Rayne.
Warnings: None that I can think of.
“...Ducky, we need to go.”
Curled up in the corner, as far away from Alfons as she could get, Rayne didn’t answer. Then again, she hadn’t answered to much of anything, for a while. Even the food that the guards had left had gone untouched, including the blood. She had obviously suffered from it, a bit gaunt in the face, her burns barely healed at all, horrible and blistered red against the white of her skin. However, the lack of anything in her eyes had nothing at all to do with her reduced appetite.
Her eyes were... dead, even as they stared at the corpse that she had shared a cell with for days. There were no emotions, no coldness, no light behind them at all. It was as if someone had put shutters up. Nothing was there, but then again, there wasn’t much left of Rayne either.
Alfons wasn't sure when the scent trail started to become more prominent, or when he had decided to follow it in the first place. One moment he was sitting in the kitchen, and the next, his nose was aflare and his mind was whirling, sudden inspiration hitting him as he followed the familiar scent (where, where, where was it before?) down the strange corridors and hallways that made up this infernal house.
How long had he been searching? Who knows, it could have been hours. Alfons himself felt a surge of adrenaline as he went along with the smell, his once-weak body reveling in the thought of the chase, of the hunt, as it will...a damn primitive instinct coming to fruit, especially in a time of such worry and alarm. His fist was clenched at one side, and his nose slightly upwards, sniffing.
He had to follow it. She'd be there, right?
Alfons quickened his pace, feet clicking on the floors, arms tensing...
Only for the rooms to become darker, and the air to become mustier. The smell was closer, he could almost taste it now...but where the walls had been stone had the scent of hard, cold steel...blood was fresh in the air and it made his pulse pound, body ripple with thirst. It had been a while since he'd last fed, hadn't it? Or maybe it was his own emotions causing the hunger--he himself wasn't sure yet.
Where was he?
The scent was everywhere, but still, nowhere. Cells, cells...metal, stone, and many other scents that he couldn't pinpoint just yet...
But hers was there among it.
He knew that--it was too strong.
He stepped further into the darkness, superhuman senses still adjusting to the lack of light.
"Rayne, where are you?" He whispered, "Are you even here? No, you have to be..."
For a brief moment, her eyes moved from the body a few feet in front of her, to flicker up towards the open door of the cell. Another hallucination... Angie left, and her mind replaced her. How... Lips parting in a silent and humorless laugh, Rayne’s hands scrabbled at the wall as she got to her feet, stumbling to the door. Stopping suddenly as a large and strong hand reached out to grab her wrist, the redhead looked down at Oz, her hysterical expression crumpling. “...I didn’t mean to.” She answered, voice hoarse, cracking from days of misuse, and hours of screaming before that.
His ears had pricked at the sound of the voice. It had to have been--there was no mistake that it was--
It had to be.
Alfons, slowly, slipped down further into the darkness, eyes finally adjusted and willing to guide him through the lack of light. He had to be quiet...even with the familiar voice, who knew what this damn house was trying to pull, and if someone heard him...
No, no. He could defend himself. With this new body, he could at least run away if it got too bad, but only when Rayne got out,
if she was in fact--
Trembling, his feet moved slowly across the floor, making sure not to scuff anything, or make any noise. He couldn't make a sound. No, no, not a sound...
He turned a corner, peeking, only to catch a flash of red in front of him.
Red.
Not blood, but--
Hair. Red HAIR.
Alfons turned fully into the doorway, only for the sight itself to make his heart sink.
“I didn’t mean to.” Rayne repeated, looking at Alfons as Oz let go of her arm, eyes wide with a bare hint of hysteria starting to shine through the complete emptiness. The fact that her face was burned, gaunt only heightened her look of insanity, along with the fact that her hair was filthy, bloody in places where it looked like she had ripped it out before it had grown back. And her arms were bloody halfway up to her elbows, old, dried, the reason why behind her. “I- I went to sleep. And when I woke up... When I woke up...” Trailing off, she laughed again, this one making a sound, though it was far too high, shaky.
Rayne didn't have to say anything more, for in moments, Alfons was already in front of her, on his knees, arms wrapped around her back and pulling her close. Soft, almost tender sounds escaped his lips as he held her, unintelligible as they were, and his arms could only tighten around her, holding her closer and closer.
What was this feeling? Protectiveness, fear, sadness...
Rage.
Rage at whatever had done this to her, was doing similar things to everyone in the house. Whatever it was...whoever they were, Alfons was certain that they would not get away with it.
You say this now, he thought to himself, But when you face it, you'll be worse off than she is now. You won't be able to fight against it.
It's true. Alfons wasn't strong. He was not at all the sort of man who could fight something, and if confronted...
No, no, no, no!! He didn't need to think about that now. All that mattered was her. All that mattered was...
"Shhhh. It's all right. Everything's going to be all right..."
Collapsing against him, trembling hands weakly grasping his shirt, Rayne acted as if she didn’t hear. “And Oz kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, but I killed you, and Angie left me, too, and now I only have the two of you...”
”Ducky, I wouldn’t go and be bringin’ me inta this.” Oz murmured, still inside the cell, watching Alfons most than Rayne, wary. Of course, he could look all he wanted. It wasn’t like anyone other than Rayne would be able to see or hear him.
...Oz?
Alfons wasn't sure whether or not to press the issue. Perhaps it was just...it was just a systemic method of dealing with intense stress (wasn't that what that accursed book had discussed? God knew that Alfons wasn't the best student of Freud, but...)? With her like this, she had to have gone through plenty of pain and horrors--enough to warrant such a thing.
Or, there was the chance that he was, in fact, really there, and he just couldn't see them. This house was a strange place, after all...anything and everything could happen, and it was a good idea not to leave anything out for probability's sake.
But...
This damn house. Everything. Everything, everything was wrong here. He hadn't died, he was right there...what kind of things had Rayne seen while she was in here?
"Well," Alfons said, gently, "Oz was wrong, because you didn't kill me. It was all just a bad dream. It's okay..."
”Kept tellin’ her. Didn’t make any sense that that thing in here woulda just disappeared, and there you suddenly were. She ain’t really been all that wantin’ ta listen ta logic, though.” Oz muttered, unheard, silently prowling out of the cell to lean against one of the outside walls.
Turning to look back at the werewolf, his eyes already glowing golden orange because of nightfall, Rayne looked between him and Alfons for a moment. “...You can’t see him.” It was aimed at Alfons, words falling flat. “Over there, against the wall. You can’t see - Or hear him, can you?”
"Can I...?"
Alfons blinked a moment, tilting his head. Glancing up, he looked exactly where she said...Corner, wall...
..Nope.
Nobody was there. Was it something only Rayne could see, if he was in fact there at all?
"...I'm sorry. I can't see him."
“...” Silent, Rayne turned back to look at the werewolf again, who simply stared back, raising an eyebrow. Looking at Alfons again, her brow furrowed, before she looked down at her hands. “...I want you to. See what I see.” Raising her hands, she hesitated, not wanting to touch him with her hands so filthy. “I don’t know if this - I’ve only heard things.” She explained, jumbled, before lightly laying her fingers on his temples, her own eyes bleeding to red as she tried to will the aura vision she had to him.
If it worked... If. He would see Oz.
"Wait, ho--"
Alfons's body, for a moment, lurched forward. What was this energy? It was hot, burning--it went through his veins and pulsed in his neck, sitting in his temples and playing with his toes....
For that flash, Alfons felt like he wanted to throw up. Too much, too much, too much, too much! Too much, too quickly, his body was shaking, his body was screaming,
not used to the intrusion of...whatever this was. This was not normal, this was not what he was used to, no no no no no!
Trembling, Alfons looked up, neck feeling weak even as he did so (his head, it felt too heavy...even as it cleared, it was too heavy, too heavy)...
...!
There was certainly a man there.
What?
Taller than he, bulkier...darker skinned, with golden eyes and...something else was off about him. He didn't seem like Alfons had once been, or like anyone else he had run into here. It was hard to explain how, exactly...
What was...
"...Are you...?" Alfons choked, eyes still adjusting to the new vision, somehow the light had even changed...
Doing her best to support Alfons’ face as he looked towards Oz, Rayne felt what little energy she had left rapidly draining. Eyes closing as her vision blurred and swayed, her hands started to tremble even more as she forced herself to hold on.
”...Boo.” Oz replied, voice growling and rumbling from his chest like thunder. Lips curling into a wolfish grin, he raised a hand to send Alfons a little sarcastic salute. It faded after a moment, however, before he nodded towards Rayne. ”Might wanna stop her, before she passes out. Ducky’s got a bad habit of never knowin’ when ta stop.”
"Not know when to--" Alfons blinked a moment, still unsure of what he was seeing. The image was growing fainter, softer...flickering, almost like something that someone decades later than his time would call a Television Screen. Colors were fading together, his own body starting to feel weak...
!!!
Not know when to stop.
That was when Alfons grabbed Rayne's shoulders, shaking her not hard, but firmly, voice raising slightly in concern, perhaps even panic.
Panic.
That wasn't uncommon to him these days, was it?
"Rayne, stop this! Please! It's all right! Stop!"
Hands slipping from his forehead, they limply fell to her lap as she nearly collapsed, head falling to rest on his shoulder. “Just wanted you to see him... Like I do...” She slurred, slipping in and out of German. Eyes fluttering, Rayne let them fall closed, just wanting to sleep and not wake up for a long time now. “Wish you could have met him, before they killed him. Woulda loved him. I did.”
"Rayne, what..."
Alfons's arms caught her quickly, pulling her to him. There was no way he was going to let her fall. Not here, not in this place...it was bad enough that he had let her get into this state as it was.
...yes. It was his fault. It was all his fault. If he had been there, maybe he could have...
"Rayne," He whispered, "It's okay. Shhhh..."
An old lover. That's who that man was, right?
He had to be.
But...would he be able to...
...No. Now wasn't the time to think about that.
"Just don't talk. I'm going to get you out of here, and maybe find you something to eat, if I can. Just save your strength...you don't have much of it left as it is..."
“He woulda loved you, too.” She murmured, before falling quiet, sensing Oz tense up against the wall he was leaning on, feeling his gaze trying to burn a hole through her skull. Something to eat... Her mind tried to focus on those three words, but they swirled just out of her reach, unable to fully grasp and comprehend their meaning.
”Brin’ her to tha kitchen. She’s got some kinda fancy gadget there, she can find food.” Oz rumbled, forgetting or either not caring that Alfons couldn’t hear him. Rayne at least could.
“...Kitchen.” Rayne mumbled, repeating the word.
"He woulda loved you, too..."
...THAT man?! That handsome man?! Loved HIM?! If this wasn't such a serious situation, Alfons would have choked.
But it wasn't the time for things like that. That was saved for the times where he was alone, a dark room surrounding him and only his own thoughts to keep him company.
"Kitchen," she had said.
Kitchen...that's right. He could take her there and get something easily.
"I'm going to carry you," Alfons whispered. "I don't think you can walk on your own. Is that all right?"
“Okay.” She whispered, not having the energy to even argue with him, or feel shame at being so weak. She should be the one protecting him, until he became accustomed to his new body, his new powers, and yet... And yet, here she was. Pathetic.
Starting to life her arms to wrap around his neck, Rayne suddenly felt Oz kneeling behind her, large hands gentle as he helped guide her arms into place. She could smell his worry, and for the first time since she couldn’t remember when, there was finally something to overpower the scent of death, of decay, of days old blood, of bodies that had been held prisoner. “I’ll be okay, Oz.” Burying her face against Alfons neck, she inhaled his scent, wanting to block out everything, and the smell of Oz’s worry on top of it. “Alfons has me.”
Did he have her? It felt like it...Alfons's arms were already wrapping around her (one on her back, one tucked under her legs), body bracing itself for the inevitable pain as he moved to lift her u--
...? Wait. She didn't feel heavy. The old him wouldn't have been able to lift her a few inches off the ground, much less as he was lifting her now.
Did changing really bring that MUCH of a change? She felt almost...light. Like her burden wasn't even really a burden at all.
"It's okay." He whispered, too wrapped in his own thoughts to notice any words coming out of her mouth, "I'll get you there as quickly as I can. Please, just hold on."
“I’ll be okay...” She quietly repeated, lips barely moving against his skin. “...I missed you.” Rayne’s voice wavered, just slightly, the events of the past... week ? Month? ...quickly catching up to her, making her want to break down in his arms right then and there, but she somehow fought it back. For now.
In mid-stride, Alfons stopped for a split second.
"Rayne..."
It was then when his gaze went down towards her, concern melting into a soft, gentle smile (of relief, he was sure).
"I missed you, too. I'm sorry that I wasn't there to..."
And then he was walking again.