Fracture

Henry and Eileen drabble, Post SH4-

Fracture

It had been nine months since she hadbeen attacked by the man in the coat. Nine long months of healing andadjusting. Her arm and cracked eye socket had healed, but sometimesEileen had problems with her vision. The gashes had scarred overalong with the numbers on her back. Those fucking numbers- theconstant reminder of the horror that pushed her towards Henry.

Henry was agreeable when she suggestedmoving in together and splitting the rent on a nicer two bedroom, andit gave the young woman a sense of security to have the man in theapartment with her, even if he was a strange one. He was so hard toread and provoke, she never knew what he was thinking, or what wasbehind those tormented eyes. Despite his predictability, Henrymanaged to surprise her on occasion, like when they moved in, and heput her bed in the same room next to his. She looked at himperplexed, but his face held the same vacant expression that he woreevery day. That was the first time Eileen wondered if it was possibleto love a man you didn't understand. It wasn't long after thatEileen pushed the beds together to snuggle with Henry, that led tospooning, which led to petting then sex, and finally the relationshipthat they had happened into. Neither of them had intended for life tounfold this way, but they had no complaints at the moment.

His patience and understanding were ofhis best qualities and made up ten fold for his lack of emotions.Each day Eileen uncovered a new facet to him, she learned and adaptedand watched as he struggled to do the same.

Living with someone was a new conceptto Henry, he was used to being alone with his own thoughts anddesires. He wasn't used to conversations and interactions, letalone sharing space, but he had the need to after the ordeal withWalter. He was afraid to be alone, even if he didn't show it.Emotions were difficult for him, they always had been, he couldn'tshow them, but he could write them, photograph them, capture themwhen he had to opportunity. Eileen never asked why he was so stoicand unmoved, and he was grateful for that, in return he never askedabout her incident with Walter or brought up the events that led themto their new home.

Eileen found a job curating at thelocal museum which left Henry time to work on his photography andwriting. They had fallen into a comfortable routine, something thathelped Henry grasp at the sanity he lost in Ashfield, but he had lostso much more that he would never get back. All the deaths he saw, allthe chaos, suffering, and tragedy would remain etched in his brain,brewing until he could sort it and put it onto paper. He knew Eileenhad suffered just as much, if not more so, and they both had scars toprove it.

Idly, Henry stroked the small scarnear his thumb while his brain drifted off into a frenzy of thoughts,ideas, and reflections. It was getting late, Eileen had come homefrom work and immediately undressed for a shower, while Henrycontinued working on writing descriptions for his photos. A sound distracted him, and he strained to identify it. Once he recognizedit, he quickly tried to think of how to remedy the situation beforehe stood up and walked down the hall to the bathroom. Softly hetapped on the door, while his hand grabbed the brass knob. He couldhear his partner crying on the other side.

"Eileen, are you ok?" he asked.When she gave no response, he turned the door know and found itunlocked. Henry swung the door open and looked around the smallbathroom, Curled up on the floor in a corner was the young woman thathe lived with. Confused he repeated his question, and she finallylooked up, her eyes red rimmed and streaked with tears.