(Untitled)

[learnwhatsreal]

She knew. She couldn't have quite said how, but somehow, just setting foot in his treehouse, Jenny knew that Dan was gone. Something about the place, and not just because he wasn't there when he said he'd be, felt unsettlingly empty. It wasn't a sensation she could explain, but she felt his absence all the same. Still, no matter what she suspected

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[up_off_thefloor]

Eric had glanced up from his book as Jenny came in, but her expression made him drop it and sit up even before she spoke. "...Gone?" He stood and crossed the room to Chuck's bed, easing down onto the edge and touching Jenny's shoulder lightly. "Oh God. I'm sorry, Jenny." The pain of losing someone was still fairly fresh to him--how much worse would it have been if it had been Serena? "I'm so sorry."

[learnwhatsreal]

Jenny leaned towards him instinctively at the touch to her shoulder, swallowing heavily and closing her eyes a moment before she spoke again. "We were supposed to hang out today," she said, as if that alone should have been enough to make it not be true. "But then I went, and I looked, and..." She shook her head, almost incredulous still, attempting to blink back the threat of tears. Everything she'd said to him now seemed that much meaner; every day she hadn't spent with him seemed longer, like if she'd been there, if she'd appreciated him more, none of this would have happened. "It was like he'd never been there at all."

[up_off_thefloor]

Eric nodded, remembering that particular emptiness when he'd gone to Tobi and Nothing's. "Oh, Jenny." He didn't know what else to say, so he simply wrapped his arms around her and gave her a hug.

[learnwhatsreal]

Jenny slid an arm around him too when he hugged her, unable to do much more lest she fall apart completely. She couldn't let herself go that far yet, if only because that would mean giving up any last shred of hope that he might've been around somewhere, no matter how much she knew it wasn't true. From there, though, she did nothing more. It was as if she couldn't move at all, paralyzed by the notion that she might be without her brother forever, now.

[learnwhatsreal]

Jenny couldn't recall having ever been quite so grateful for Nate's presence. Though she'd lapsed into silence when they left the others, all she could think about, aside from those who'd disappeared, was that he'd offered exactly what she had wanted but had been too uncertain to ask for. Another time, she might have wanted to think that it meant something, his turning down the opportunity to be with the friends he'd had his entire life for her, but just then, she was only grateful for the company, if specifically that it was his company. She'd come to really care about Chuck and Eric, but it just wasn't quite the same around them.

"Thanks for doing this," she said, her voice thin, tilting her chin to glance up at him as they walked towards the room she'd been living in. Even that was hard to think about, now. She was a step away from losing it already, but determined to at least make it until they were in the privacy afforded by a Compound bedroom. "It means a lot. I... really didn't want to be alone right now."

[throw_it_off]

"Of course not," he said gently. His arm had shifted to a natural position loosely around her shoulders, and it wasn't going to move until absolutely necessary. It hadn't really sunk in yet, that Dan and Lyla were gone. It didn't mean the same thing to him as it did to everyone else. He'd only been there a few weeks. But he knew Jenny was hurting, and he wanted to help. "And you shouldn't be."

[learnwhatsreal]

The arm around her shoulders was about as much of a comfort as Jenny thought it possible to have at a time like this. It did little to help her keep her composure, though. She shouldn't have had to be alone, and yet in some ways, she was. Dan was gone and probably not coming back; she hadn't really gotten the chance to make things right with him. There were people she had there, but what family she'd had was gone. She might've been lucky to have had him there, but it seemed worse to have him and lose him than to never have him on the island at all.

For now, she just had to remind herself that they weren't far from the room. Once she was out of public, alone with Nate, it would be easier to let herself go, and she couldn't hold off much longer. "Well, still. I'm glad you're here," she replied quietly, and meant it more than the sentence implied. With him, she felt more at ease, inasmuch as that was even possible at a time like this. She was glad he was on the island, too, and not disappeared like her brother and Lyla.

[throw_it_off]

"I'm glad I'm here too," he said, guiding her down the hallway to the entrance of the room. You're not my father and you're not my brother, she'd yelled at him once. But Nate still cared. Too much, probably, but that didn't matter just then.

When they got to the right doorway, Nate reached forward to open the door and stepped back for Jenny to enter. The perfect gentleman, but sometimes it meant more than others.