Ronan: To the Moon and Back

48. Aftermath: In the Silence

  TW: Little bit of unintentional self-harm moment  

It's a strange feeling; having to drive back home after reluctantly giving up a major part of someone's life. Strange to have to let go, release your hold on the most beautiful thing that had graced the world for nearly five years. To numbly walk away, after gathering a few personal things, stuffed animals, a small jumper, a gray beanie. Walk away from a room you've spent the past three years in. It feels strange to leave a place like that, to leave everything you've ever associated with that place, only taking unfathomable heartbreak as a parting gift. 

It was like wading through thick, muddy water trying to get to the lifts, to the lobby, to the car. Weird to have to split up to take two cars home. Have to carefully keep your mind blank of all thoughts, memories, of the feeling of a body slowly growing cold in your arms, while driving through morning traffic.

No music, no CDs pushed into the slot on the dash, no station tuned to Radio One, not even the white static from an out of range station. Nothing to fill the silence besides the humming of engines, the slight rush of the wind passing by the windows as the car cuts through it. Nothing but the sound of a pounding heart and the small squeak of fingers over the steering wheel, tightening on the leather that covers it. It's all so surreal.

Rae allows the door to shut quietly behind her with a soft click, after helping her mother get out of her own car, turning to lock it afterwards. When she turns back around, she's greeted by the sight of her mother standing in the middle of the family room. Her normally quiet house now seems to scream it's silence at them, air heavy with the weight that everything is suddenly, extraordinarily different. Then MaryAnn moves; Rae tracing her movements with careful eyes.

Her mother gently traces her trembling fingers over a picture of Ronan, taken just hours after he was born. Wrapped up a blue blanket, pink skin soft and delicate in the lighting. His eyes are half open, but Rae knew when she took the picture, that warm night in June, how incredibly blue his eyes would be. Rae bites her lip hard, trying to rid the pain that keeps shooting arrows through her chest. The pain that's becoming harder to ignore, and her fingers twitch in anticipation for her skin.

Her mother picks up another picture, one of Ronan held in the air at arms length in her hands. He's giggling brightly, probably just under a year old, if Rae recalls correctly. She watches as her mum clutches the picture to her chest, turning to shoot a watery smile at Rae. It's a horribly heartbreaking smile; it doesn't belong on her mother's face.

Clearing her throat, Rae makes her way further into the room. "I'll make some tea."

MaryAnn fully faces her daughter, placing a tender hand on her cheek. Her sad smile drops the same time her hand does, and Rae watches her walk towards her room, quietly shutting the door. Sighing, Rae shakes her head, shakes out her itching fingers and shoves her own emotions aside for now to make tea for her mum. She can deal with her own self later, right now focuses everything she has on her mother.

Once the kettle's heating on the stove and two mugs wait idly on the counter, Rae fiddles with her phone in her hand. Twice she already unlocked it, then locked it again, turning it over and over in her hand. This time, she stares hard at the black screen like it'll do what she knows she should do for her. She presses the home button, unlocks it for the third time, her thumb hovering over the contacts.

She wants to tell Louis, she does; even goes as far as pulling up the last text he sent to her. It's just...she has no idea how to tell him. Or anyone. Shit, she forgot she has to inform people now. Has to tell her family, extended family, her grandparents that live in Scotland. Has to tell Kari, Liz, Jasper -who'd probably close his diner for her mother just to come comfort her. Yet, out of everyone she knows has to gravely inform, Louis is the least out of all of them that she wants to. It's because she knows, knows that once the words leave her lips, she'll simultaneously fall apart. Falling apart is not something she can afford right now.