RayEmma Oneshots

Waiting

"I'm a bit concerned about Ray..."

"...we're all worried for her, but..."

"...getting a little out of hand..."

Ray heard muffled voices from outside the infirmary, quieted partially from the infinite other noises in the hallway - stomping of boots as children ran around, someone calling out that mealtime would be soon, gleeful squeals from the smaller kids - and partially from how he was situated, his head in his arms leaning on the bed, partially covering his ears. He turned his head to the side, seeing where his hand held her limp one, as he had been for hours. Yawning in exhaustion, he closed his eyes, thinking about what had happened lately. Specifically what Violet had said to him weeks ago, those words that hadn't been able to leave his head since.

—

About two weeks or so ago, halfway through the journey from Goldy Pond to the B06-32 shelter, he remembered sitting down, eating the stew one of the older Goldy Pond kids made. He was there, but not really there, thinking again, mind traveling to darker places, playing the same thoughts he'd been having since they left Goldy Pond on repeat: Did the old man get Emma to safety? Is she safe? Did she survive? Will we survive? Will any of us ever see her again?

Will I ever see her again?

Groaning, he looked down at his food, only partially aware that he'd been picking at the stew for ten minutes now and hadn't eaten more than two bites. The rest of the kids weren't loud, but certainly weren't quiet, all talking amongst themselves in hushed tones in hopes of not attracting demons; no one noticed his plight. No one except for a purple haired girl, that is.

The girl Ray recognized as Violet sat down next to him, probably noticing how much of a wreck he seemed right now. To be fair, he'd been a wreck for the entire journey, but he tried not to show it; and that day, he felt worse than he usually did

"You good?" She had asked, gesturing to his uneaten bowl of stew. "You should try to eat as much as you can, food is scarce and we can't waste any of it."

Sighing, Ray put down the bowl. "I know, I know, I'm just... not having much of an appetite right now."

"Ah, worrying about Emma?" She said, a glimmer of anxiety starting to shimmer in her own eyes.

"Yeah..." he hugged his knees, trying not to remember the battle. Trying not to remember how Leuvis had practically skewered her like a mere piece of meat. Trying not to remember all the blood and injuries and-

He buried his head in his arms, holding back a cry. He would not cry here. He could not cry here. He needed to be the strong dependable guide on the ready to defend the injured from wild demons, goddamnit, and he couldn't just be breaking down from everything.

Violet had tentatively reached out to pat him on the back, not good with emotional reassurance. "That girl is strong," she started to say, slowly. "She'll survive. And in the meantime, I'm sure she wouldn't want us to spiral from worrying over her."

Ray took a deep breath, and shakily nodded. "I guess...though I think I'm the only one spiraling here," he tried to joke.

Violet only frowned at that. "Well yeah, you two are really close while the rest of us only really knew her for like a day. Of course you're more affected."

Looking down again, Ray muttered, just loud enough for Violet to hear, "I don't want to lose any more friends."

Thick silence hung in the air after that - Violet didn't know what to say. She opened her mouth a few times to reassure him, though it seemed like he wouldn't want to talk about it with her; she was practically a complete stranger, and it looked like he regretted saying that. So instead she asked the other question that had come to her mind: "You two are friends? Huh, I totally thought you were dating."