Ronan: To the Moon and Back

13. Silence is to Lonely, as Lonely is to Silence

AN: This is kind of an explanation of Raelyn.
Warnings: mild panic attack and mild somewhat unintentional self harm. (due to the fact that when Rae scratches her chest, most of the time she doesn't realize she's doing it.)

This is probably the shortest chapter I've ever written.

No, no, nope, no. Rae forces her thoughts and the events of the day out of her mind, trying to focus on the road because yes, there are other cars that are driving along side her and people walking about on the sidewalks. So she does have to be careful and not cross over lines without signaling and pay attention to people who are walking when it's their turn to walk the crosswalk. All she wants to do to get home, crawl into her mother's arms and just hug her tightly. Yearning for that warm confront and her mothers cup of tea that is always better than anything bought from a store.

She grips the steering wheel tightly, fighting against her right hand reflexes to press at her chest, which is shooting painful spams. She slows to a red light- thank god!- taking in shaky breaths, pushing back her hair with a trembling hand. Her right hand shoved under her thigh because she can't just attack her chest; not in the car where other people can easily peer through her clear window.

Instead, she reaches for her phone searching for her mum's number, keeping an eye on the light. After several rings, the call goes to voicemail, so she pulls up Kari's contact, only to be sent to another voice message box. There, about seven spots down from Kari's name is Louis'. He did say she could call him; call him when she's about to maul her chest, about to panic and when the pain in her chest just gets to be too much. Though despite it being Friday, he wasn't at the Hospice, none of them were. So he was probably busy being a global Popstar, like he actually is, even though it always seems to slip Rae's mind, doing Popstar things, meeting other Popstars.

Probably sitting front row center at a fashion show with his non-Popstar girlfriend who still somehow has her own enormous fan following, despite her doing absolutely nothing besides go to Uni and drink expensive coffees. Yet still gets all these free clothes and stuff from said fashion shows. Rae really needs to stop thinking because she's suddenly angry about it. Which is petty and stupid because she doesn't even know said non-Popstar. So she shouldn't be feeling any spark of jealously- and just where the hell did that come from- or bitterness. So right, Louis is busy.

However, her thumb hovers over his name about to call when a horn behind her beeps abruptly; loud and sharp. Startled, Rae drops her phone, cluttering down he abyss between her seat and door. She drives away, flipping the bird to the person behind her who decided his payback for her waiting the .006 seconds after the light turned green cuts her off. It's not like she needs rude people at the moment, it's making her more angry. Angry because people are annoying and have no patience. Angry because people can sip at their Starbucks every damn day and not work double shifts just to treat themselves to a nice, calorie induced drink flavoured with burnt beans.

Angry because she could have sworn she saw what looked like Paparazzi hovering around the Hospice entrance (and it had to be a Pap, because that camera was much too professional for anyone hanging about Hummingbird). Angry because the nurses and doctors should know how to fix and cure people, not let them die after their chemotherapy. Angry because the ten year old's brother was the only family member to show up. Angry because she has no answers for Ronan when he asked why another friend of his didn't wake up from his nap.

Rae finally pulls up to her house, quickly shutting off the car and finally pressing her hand into her chest, fingers digging into her skin. Breath becoming shorter with each inhale, chest heaving and it's suddenly much too hot in her car. Rae squeezes her eyes shut, clenching her fingers harder into her skin, trying to focus on the sharp sting of her nails instead. Her attack only last a few minutes, even though to her it felt longer, so she slowly drops her hand from her chest, leans over to fish out her phone, and quickly exiting the suffocating car. She takes a few deep breaths of fresh air before unlocking the front door.

"Mum? I'm home!" She calls a little breathlessly, still feeling the affects of the mini panic attack. She toes off her shoes making her way into the kitchen. "Mum?"

There's a neon blue sticky note stuck to the handle of the fridge, informing Raelyn of her mother being called in to work for the graveyard shift and left her some cash to order any food she wanted for dinner. Well, any food 20 pounds would cover. She grabs a wine glass from the cupboard and a bottle of red from the refrigerator, pouring out the wine until it fills the glass half way. She sighs after taking a generous sip. She better get started on the newsletter for next week.

***

The next two hours are filled with another glass of wine, an open laptop with her camera memory card inserted into the little slot and file folders of previously named and dated pictures. Making a small photo collage in remembrance of the sweet boy who had passed, proved to be a little too much for Rae. So, she took a break and drove herself over to the grocery store, taking her time to pick out the items she needed for dinner and to restock their pantry a bit. She cooked herself a simple grilled chicken over pasta and settled on the couch to catch up on Once Upon a Time.

Her phone stays silent the whole night, and she doesn't attempt to make any calls, or attempt to attempt to make any calls. With a carefully blank mind, she finishes the photo collage and sends it to the editor of the newsletter. Just another lonely night at home with the TV muted as she works on editing more photos, like the ones she took of the boys just a few days ago. Their faces streaked with shadows and lights and eyes that seem to stare at Rae, like those blue mirthful ones knows exactly what she's feeling. She shuts her laptop quickly, snapping away the photos and pressing her hand back to her chest.

Rae's thumb is once again hovering over another contact and it isn't until she dials Vinny's number, does she realize what she's doing and quickly ends the call, tossing her phone in the coffee table. That's the tenth time she's done that within a year of her cousins passing, knowing how bad her loneliness is whenever she forgets and tries calling him. Instead, she reopens her laptop, bringing up iTunes and falling asleep to the Civil Wars.

Rae wakes with a start two hours later, sweat dampeing the roots of her hair and breathing like she just ran a marathon. She's automatically mauling at her chest and gripping her hair at her temple to rid the after thoughts. 

She had that dream again. With the shades of gray, the Dark Shadow and the wide, blue eyes that look up helplessly at her, a bone chilling scream echoing throughout the confines of her mind. She reaches for her phone, not hesitating in taking up Louis' offer, just to find her phone dead. Rae takes it as some kind of bad omen, leaving her phone on the table. There's a marathon of Friends on the telly, and she watches it all night; not getting another wink of sleep.

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