Sativa.

32. Reprecussion pt 2

Present Day

Seven years later, and Blaine still isn't the best at coping. People try to pin mourning down like it's a diagnosis. With five stages and perhaps medication. Although Serenity's murder isn't personally devastating as the death of her Grandpa, it's an act of gruesome violence that torments Blaine's mind.

She commits to a structured routine. Starting with waking up early to make breakfast for Travis and lunch for Brittney at school. Travis is the only person who grieves in a similar pattern to herself, refusing to take a day off work, and trying to return to normal life.

It's obvious how much losing Serenity hurts. In the way he eats less and sleeps more.

Blaine insists he should tell the rest of his family about Serenity's death but he adamantly refuses to until the investigation of the shooting yields results. Eventually she realized it wasn't worth fighting over. Understanding he wants something more to say to his mother other than I feel like it was my fault.

Catering to Brittney for the week is a welcome distraction. It rips Blaine apart when, every morning as she helps the six year old into her heavy pink coat, she has to tell her that Mommy won't be coming back home. Death is too profound for a child to absorb and certainly not something Blaine wants to attempt to explain to a kid that isn't her own.

Brittney displays a resilience that would be startling had it not been proven to run through the Sterne family like an integral part of their DNA. The night after the drive-by, she'd been sitting on Travis's lap while he read her a story. He'd broken the news to her then and she pressed her tiny body against his, crying until she fell asleep cradled in his arms.

The next morning Brittney asked for her Mom. More than once and so innocently, that Blaine didn't have the heart to try re-explaining everything as calmly as Travis had. So she kept repeating she wouldn't be home whenever it was just the two of them, waiting until Travis got home from work to read stories and color pages from her coloring book.

After the eighth day of locking herself in the bathroom, sobbing with the bath water running until her body ached, Blaine decides. Watching over Brittney has been a privilege but, being so inept at making her understand the situation when she hardly can even fathom it herself, is proving harmful to her own wellbeing.

"You should talk to your Mom." Blaine suggests gingerly over lunch on Saturday.

The fork slips from his fingers and lands on his plate loudly. Shortly after he regains control again, stirring absently through his hardly eaten serving of sphagetti.

"I don't know what to say."

"Saying something is better than saying nothing."

She follows Travis's gaze when he glances over at Brittney. She lays on the floor in the living room and colors with her crayons. Blaine and Travis eat on the small table previously only used as space for her house-plants. They're far out of ear-shot but he still squirms uncomfortably.

"I still don't know what happened. How am I suppose to say that to Ma? To Nana?"

A receptor for his mood, she latches onto his hand as her stomach lurches with sympathy. "But don't you think she should know? And what about Brittney?"

She can feel his muscles tense beneath her palm. "You don't want to take care of her anymore?"

"I'm not saying I don't want to..." Her lips thin into a white line. "I'm saying I can't."

"And you shouldn't have to." With a weary sigh, he laces his fingers through hers. "At least we was trying."

"I've liked having her here." Blaine glances over at Brittney again with a warm smile. "And she can stay. She just needs to understand what happened first. I don't know how to explain it to her."