Survivor { R5 fanfiction}

Chapter 46

RYDEL

Ryland and I are currently setting the table on in silence, after we were done with the cooking. I was supposed to do it alone, but Ryland insisted to helped. I didn't refuse. Some company did me good.

It's been two days we haven't gone out to continue our researches. Hailey, Ryland and I aren't used to patrol every day, unlike Riker. But he wasn't in shape neither. If anything, he was the least enthusiastic to go out, like he gave up on our brother. We have a tiny chance to find him, but this is what makes us still hope. Riker less, as I said before. He refuses to believe anymore.

"Is Riker coming with us?"
I look up at my little brother, as I stop what I'm doing. I think a little about the question, before continuing setting the table as my gaze drops.

"I don't know Ryland."

"He needs to eat something. We already don't eat that much, he can't starve himself..."

"Yeah. I know." I cut him off. I didn't mention it, but Riker's case has been sort of taboo lately, and I want to avoid the subject as often as possible ." Put a plate for him. And, could you go get Hailey, please?" Ryland slightly nods, as he finishes putting the cutleries at the edge of the plates. As for me, I leave the room, and lead toward the stairs.

Ryland's right. I need to talk to our brother, I must to. We left him first, but it's been going on for too long. Since his little breakdown he had a few days ago, it got worse. He barely go out of his room, only to use to the bathroom. He doesn't talk to anyone. He locks himself all day, no one knows what he does. Probably wallowing in self-pity, but I don't blame him for this, he's been strong for everyone else for too long.

But, he won't eat, or even drink. I don't know a lot about this kind of things, but I'm pretty sure he's having a depression. I came upon him a few times at night trying to steal a bottle of alcohol in the living room, but too bad for him, Hailey and I sleep downstairs and he isn't that discreet. I don't think he even tries to be honest.

Everytime we stopped him, and he would always go back upstairs, with an aggrieved appearance and without saying a word. It seems It seems I haven't heard his voice for years.

He confided me he drank a lot at the beginning because he was down, but he made a pact of sobriety to stop. I noticed he was keen to continue the other day, when he handed me this bottle. I recall the guiltiness in his eyes when he did so.  This image's been hauting me for days. I comforted him at the moment, but it wasn't enough.

I feel nothing but compassion toward him. He needs help. He can't get through this alone. He grew more on our missing brothers, if it was even possible, when they were the three of them. And he lost them both. I mean, we lost them too, we are both down Ryland and I as well, but Riker is more affected.

Rocky and Ross helped him the first time, I must do the same. I won't be concerned about anything else before Riker feels better, even if it takes months.

I now climb the stairs up two by two with a firm step, motivated by my new resolution. I hesitantly slow down once I reach his door though.

I make the decision to press a careful ear on the cold wood of the closed door. I can't hear anything. Either it's a good sign or a bad one, I can't solve it.

I bite on my lower lip nervously, and knock on the door with a shaky hand. No answer. I insist intensifying my bangs, but still nothing. I turn the knob firmly to enter, but it barely moves in my palm, without jingling.

I need to help my big brother, but I can't smash the door open. It'll scare the life out of him, if he's sleeping, and then, he'll probably be mad, and for sure, he'll kick me out. Which means I won't be able to do anything.