Brothers

The crowd was beginning to dwindle, people starting to return to the own fires, to their own reflections, their own lives. The afternoon and evening had been exhausting, both physically but also mentally and emotionally. All she really wanted to do was find a cool, dark place to curl up in, away from everyone and everything, but she knew that was just not right.


Sitting there, staring at her hands, she realized that someone had come to stand beside the platform, and lifted her head, putting on that practiced, widows's smile. When she realized who it was, her lower lip began to tremble, and she reached up to wipe the tears that had finally come again. Ephrim sat down beside her, pulled her against his side and stroked her head with one of those large hands. Turning her head into his chest, she was crying quietly when she felt the touch of another hand, and knew it to be Hiram. No words passed between them. They just weren't necessary. She was the little sister, they were the older brothers, and this is just how it was. Soon Enos and Dorian were there too, sitting on the lower steps of the wagon, in a show of love and support.


A younger voice spoke to her, urging a mug of tea into her grasp, telling her that she needed to drink it. Looking up, for a moment she marveled at the face. It was Gabriel. Often she looses track of time when it comes to him. In her minds eye, he was still a chubby child waddling around the fires, his nappies drooping. Now here he stood before her, a young man with his first scar, and she felt old. No, she felt dead. Taking the mug, she thanks him, and sips from it. Looking around, she realizes that everyone has left but family, and she is almost glad of this.


Anya and Laren were seeing that the children were fed. Dorian moved away to sit with them, to tell them stories in preparation for their bed time. It was such a peaceful, normal scene, and should have brought peace to her heart seeing her children with them, but it didn't. There was just too much in there right now, to allow peace in. But, she was glad they were there for her, but mostly for the children.


Since their father's death, Ephrim has more or less acted as head of their family, by virtue of the six minutes he had alone in this world before his twin, Hiram arrived. So it usually fell to him to deal with family matters. They talked for a long time, about her, the children and what would happen now. The offer was laid out, for her to move her wagons back with theirs, even if it was just for a time, to give herself time to heal among family that loved her. She told him she would give it some thought, but that she was not going to make any decisions right now, at least not for a few days. It was all too new, too raw.


He patted her hand, and asked if she wanted or needed anything. She knows that many would be asking her that question over the next few days, and fought down the urge to just scream, and tell him....Yes! She wants her life back! But instead, she smiled telling him no, that she just needed time to think, was all. Leaning to kiss the top of her head, he told her they would be staying for a day or two, to take care of the children, and her, and to fend off well-wishers if they got too overbearing. Leaving her to her thoughts, he joined his brothers at the fire and they all talked in low tones. She knew damn well they were talking about her, but she was just too emotionally drained to really care.


Leaning over against the railing along the platform, she closed her eyes and just listened to the low, dull rumble of their voices. Not taking words from them, but just trying to take comfort of the sounds, and knowing they were near. Maybe she nodded off, maybe she just went into this small state of suspension, but when next she was really cognizant she knew there was someone else sitting beside her.


Opening her eyes, she saw it was him. The one that has sat with her like this for now the third time. She didn't say a word, but leaned her head to rest on his arm. She did not ask him where he had been, for she knew. She did not mention that she could smell the sweat and the smoke on him, and the faint aroma of burned flesh. She didn't have to. He had done what was necessary, and right now there was no need to talk about it. Maybe there never would be.


He was different, he didn't ask how she was, he knew. He didn't ask if she needed anything, he was just there, that pillar of strength that she had drawn from so many times. Food and drink was brought to him, and she watched as he ate. One of the many bowls of broth that she would suffer over the next few days was put into her hands by Anya. She managed a few sips from it, before her stomach turned to stone, and she could tolerate no more. Sitting it aside, she placed a hand on the broad shoulder and stood. Without a word she went back into the wagon, tying the flaps shut, cutting herself off from the world.


For a fleeting moment, a thought raced through her mind. For a blink of an eye, there was this part of her that longed for Fonce to have left her in that place, to die. It would have been less painful than this.