**COMPLETE \ REWRITE**
Mistakes are meant to be made, but not the ones that can create a never ending nightmare. Y/n has committed the ultimate sin leaving her to her own demise and guilt that will continuously build up till she cracks.
She's bound...
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I splash cold water over my face for the fifth time. It didn't work, like all the other times before. Nina still appeared in my mind and even mother's words were still fresh.
"You couldn't put me back together too."
A wave of shivers engulfs my senses. I watch my hand shake as I turn off the faucet. That's right, I think solemnly. I couldn't do a damn thing.
I didn't have the skills back then to bring mother back safely or even get Al's body back. And I still don't have the knowledge of how to help Nina. I clench the edges of the sink too disgusted with myself.
What were the years spent on the road worth? Didn't I learn something? At least a way to separate Nina and Alexander?
I was a mess when I finally looked at my reflection in the mirror. My hair stood in different directions, my eyes red from the crying, my face drained of any color. Somehow, I hated how I looked.
Hated how I was still worthless in this goddamn world. Can you make yourself useful instead of crying like a toddler?
A soft rapping came at the door. It was firm but soft enough not to completely disturb my presence.
"Brother?" Al calls. He sounded worried. "Are you alright?"
I clear my throat, hoping that would conceal my grief. "Uh—yeah. Just washing my face, that's all." I grab the nearest towel and head out.
When I open the door Al had placed himself on the floor in the corner of the room. He doesn't say word to me, if I didn't didn't know any better would think he was lifeless due to how still he became. He stared at the wall across him, not once looking in my direction.
He was troubled, he was never this still. I don't blame him though, the incident at Tucker's was fresh on our minds. I look to my right, gazing at the wooden door.
I wonder how Y/n's doing? My heart sinks at the thought, my throat constricts restraining my attempt at breathing. She took it harder than all of us.
She had cried throughout the night, her attempt of silencing her sobs had failed immensely. I'd listen to her soft sniffles and her muffled sobs. I never liked the sound.
Hearing Y/n cry or even the mere image of her brought shooting pains throughout my chest. It felt like someone slammed a knife through the center of my chest piercing both skin and bone continuously.
The pain never subsides when I see her in such a way, it only heightens dramatically to the point where I couldn't breathe myself. But not once throughout those dark hours of the night did I go to her. I didn't check on her, didn't ask if she was okay.
