RayEmma Oneshots

Haunted

Ray was just settling down for sleep when he heard the noises: like sniffling, a muffled cry. He turned over in his bunk, toward Emma's bunk on the other side of their shared room. Their smallish room had two bunk beds, theoretically being able to room 4 people; though the top bunks of each bed were broken, and the kids had salvaged the wood from the top bunks to use in various other places in the bunker, such as repurposed as furniture. They were given the faulty room since they were the last to be given rooms in the bunker - Emma being in the infirmary for a month and Ray barely sleeping in the time between his return to the shelter and Emma's recovery. So they shared the room alone.

He noticed slight movements from her now, facing away from him, silent sobs shaking her body - something was definitely wrong. "...Emma?" He croaked out. "What's wrong?"

She froze, a few moments of silence enveloping the room. "I..." she said, sounding shaky. "I just..." Her voice hitched at the end, a strangled sob released. Ray was immediately up, kneeling at the side of her bed and reaching out to lightly touch her shoulder. "What is it? Can I do anything? Do you want to talk about it?" Ray started panicking a bit, he always hated seeing Emma hurt. Emma flinched at the sudden contact, then shakily raised her other arm and placed her hand over his. "...Stay. Please..." she whispered, turning her head toward him. He could make out tears, dried and fresh, staining her face, and eye bags below her eyes. Ray immediately complied, sitting on the edge of her bed and rubbing her shoulder in circles. "What's wrong?" He whispered again, softly, continuing his movements.

Emma laid there for a moment, a distant look in her eyes - contemplating something. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then mumbled "...Goldy Pond... I... can still see them..."

Ray's grip on her shoulder involuntarily tightened, remembering his own experience there. The copious blood splatters lining the streets, the screaming, running until his lungs were burning from lack of air... just thinking about it made him nauseous. And she had it much worse. She was there longer, witnessed an actual hunting spree before the rebellion, was the one who got skewered like a shishkabob and barely lived.

Snapping back to reality, he saw the look in her eyes was one he knew all too well, the look of a person haunted by the ghosts of torturous memories. He felt a tide of self-loathing wash over him. I was supposed to protect her, keep this from happening to her, but I failed within a few months! Though he quickly shoved down those thoughts; Emma was the one breaking down right now, it wasn't the time for him to break down too.

Ray recalled how Isabella would hug the younger ones when they were upset back at the House, and decided to try that out. He cleared his throat, getting her attention. "Would you... like a hug?" He asked quietly, awkwardly, not used to being in the position of giving comfort. The younger kids would go to him for support and comfort sometimes now, too, along with the other eldest children from Grace Field; he still felt awkward in that situation, not knowing how to maneuver around the children's worries without upsetting them further. Drawbacks to spending most of your life behind a book and away from others, he supposed.

Emma nodded, holding his hand tighter, and Ray lowered himself down onto the bed until he was laying face to face with her. He wrapped his free arm around her, and she wrapped hers around him, though their other hands still stayed tightly clasped. As soon as they were positioned, Emma buried her head in his chest. He could feel her sobs racking her small body, could feel a stain forming on the front of his shirt from her tears.

"Shh... there there..." Ray mumbled into her hair, rubbing comforting circles into her back. Ray wasn't sure if he was being helpful or not - his idea of how to comfort her was all theoretical, trying to piece together what his mother did to comfort children. It seemed to be working, to his relief, as Emma's sobs eventually died down, melting into his touch. They stayed like that for a while, him continuing to rub her back as her sobs turned into shaky breaths, until she mustered the courage to speak up.

"I just... keep seeing the ones I couldn't save. I tried to keep them all safe, tried to do my best, but... so many children died at that horrid place, so many that I never even met, and some that I just couldn't save... like Jake, Monica... I should've done more, should've been able to..." her voice hitched at the end, tears starting to leak out of her eyes once more.

And Ray felt a pang of understanding; he's felt this before before. Hell, he still feels this. Many nights, he was haunted by the faces of their older and younger siblings - in their shipment day outfit, waving to everyone as they promised to write, Ray standing there in the crowd trying to hold back the nausea that came from knowing that no, they won't write back, they won't be alive to write back.

Ray couldn't save everyone at Grace Field, just like how Emma couldn't save everyone at Goldy Pond.

Ray held her closer, moving his hand to stroke her hair instead. "Sometimes," he uneasily started, "...sometimes, there will be things that you don't have the power to do. People that you can't save. But..." he took a deep breath, "you still did so much. Many did... die... but so many also survived. Because of you. That's pretty damn amazing."

He could tell she was holding her breath; his words were reaching her. With a bit more confidence, he continued.

"You'll definitely feel regrets for every life you couldn't save, for every person you couldn't reach, but... that's okay. You're human. You did your best, and staying hung up on the past.. that'll just get you nowhere, spiraling into oblivion. It's not your fault that they died, it's that shit show that Goldy Pond itself was. You made such a huge great impact, most of the people in this shelter owe their lives to you. You're an amazing person, you did so much."

A silence enveloped the two of them, before he felt more tears leak onto his shirt. "Ah, I don't really know what I was saying, I'm sorry-" Ray started apologizing, worrying that something he said had triggered such a response from her. But he felt little giggles against his chest, stopping him short of his rambling.

Pushing him back, Emma lifted her head, and he could see her tear stained face, that tortured look in her eyes, but also a small smile adorning her face. "Ray," she started "it's okay, you didn't upset me. Your words... they helped. I feel better now." Her expression went downcast again, gritting her teeth. "It still hurts though."

Ray patted her on the head, a sad smile appearing on his own face. "Yeah... it'll hurt for a long time. And.. I can't really tell you what'll make it better. But you were able to make a positive change there, you saved more than you couldn't save. That's what matters. So don't beat yourself up over the others."

Emma softly smiled, a mirror of his own half-happy-half-sad expression. "Mm... can you still stay here a bit longer, please...?"

Ray chuckled, "Of course," and wrapped his arms back around her, her doing the same. But a bit longer turned into a lot longer, and soon they were both asleep, in the embrace of each other's arms.