He re-crosses his arms but it feels wrong and he hates it. He hates closing himself off, especially to her. But, quite honestly, he knows that he isn’t just shielding himself. Billie needs to be guarded from his fear, too. Because his fear and worry, what he wore on his sleeve alongside his heart (though still refused assistance with) was the cause of this. It was why she didn’t come to him, ‘enough on your plate’. Which meant someone told her. He didn’t even get a chance to tell her.
She didn’t think this was important enough to tell him. That she was LEAVING. And worse, that she got hurt and didn’t think to come to him with it– no matter how small. Not hat anything was small anymore. No, this world had a way of finding the tiniest tear and ripping it into something irreparable. Something deadly and deep and open. Vulnerable.
The, ‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t smooth over anything. He wishes it would, but the fact she felt the need to apologize only stirs his worry. His fear, and by extension, his anger. That unsettled, faulted vexation. Maybe, he thinks, this was how Rebecca felt whenever he would be there with sorry’s spilling past his lips over mistakes that were beyond apologies. After there was too much to forget and such a tired forgiveness that it was already applied before the apology had been made.
“I would have cleared the plate,” Ethan says, a little over her and over his own train of thought. Arms still folded and he doesn’t move. “Whatever you think I’m busy with, you’re more important.”
He wants to move, though. He wants to reach out and grab her hand because she’s there and she’s alright– but he can’t. He can’t because there was a chance she wasn’t going to come back for a good while and he had to sleep on that. Another person he could have lost, because he was thinking of himself and not catching things before they happened. Not there to stop or say, ‘no’. To be the oldest. Bash was always the better leader– the better big brother.
God, how clueless was he?
“You’re smart. God, you’re fucking smart.” He laughs, but strained and tight and not at all amused. Looking away, he shoves his hands into his hair and grips. “But this?” Ethan turns back to her, hand outstretched in a gesture to her stance. ‘It’s just a sprain,’ “This was so stupid, Billie. So, so, so fucking stupid and you just– You didn’t tell me? You didn’t say anything to me at all! And I hear from someone else that you’re back? When did we stop talking to each other?” There’s nothing there, no attempt to mask the hurt.
He was hurt. It wasn’t her fault either, not really. No, this was an old wound that never scarred over. That ache of abandonment. Of helplessness. Of being left. And this just tore off whatever thin scab he was finally developing over that pain, that fear. Angry was the only thing he could try now, because he tried mourning. Tried guilt. Tried hope. Everything he tried always got ripped from his hands just as he got a hold of it, and someone else would die. But, anger. No, this was new and raw and he hated it. But, wasn’t he allowed to be angry at some point? “A sprain isn’t nothing anymore. A sprain means you can’t run and when you can’t run– that just– do you have any idea what could have happened?”
A step back, and he’s restless. Has to move in some way or another. At the same time, he’s trapped. Stuck in place because he can’t go forward– not yet– and there isn’t a chance he’s leaving. Not when she’s back and she could have died. “I swear–” He doesn’t know what to, so he just lets the sentence get cut sharp with a sigh. “I love you, I love you so much, but this was… Christ. What were you thinking?”
Billie gulped when she heard those words, shaking her head as if trying to stop them from repeating themselves over and over again inside of her head, like an echo that never ended. She knows he meant them in a good way, in a way that made her feel safe and protected. That wasn’t the way she felt after hearing those words, however. All she felt was the weight of every life lost around her, threatening to crush her. Instead of letting that feeling take over, she buried deep inside; she couldn’t break down now, specially since she didn’t know whether or not she would come back from it.
Looking down, Billie pressed her lips together and closed her eyes, trying not to overthink words that were meant to be so simple. Trying not to let the guilt eat her insides yet again. Trying to focus on not scratching her skin off of her forearm. She knows she messed up but all she wants to do is forget about the whole thing. Ignoring situations isn’t the healthiest approach, but it was the only one she felt able to deal with. Billie also knew that they had to talk. He was the only family she had left and the last thing she wanted was to lose him, specially because of something stupid.
“My life isn’t worth more than anyone else’s, okay?” Impulsive, and perhaps over-dramatic, words left her mouth, and as soon as she spoke, Billie wanted to smack herself upside the head. Eyes closed, head shaking and forehead resting on an open palm, trying to pretend she hadn’t just said what she had said. Billie knew where those words had come from; every death she had on her shoulders, every situation she had survived where others hadn’t, every situation where someone else’s life was on the line just to save hers -- and that whole thing with Alex only brought that guilt back.
Licking her lips when she heard Ethan’s next words, Billie shook her head. Looking away. Blinking time and time again. Trying to keep herself together because she didn’t get to break down, not when Ethan had been the one to lose a sister not long before that very moment and now had to act as a leader. Billie brought her arms close to her upper body, but she didn’t cross them, no -- she hugged herself, almost as if trying to remind herself to keep herself in one piece.
Her eyes had been glued to every possible object in the room as Ethan spoke. Only before she replied, did she look at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about leaving but I couldn’t stay back, okay? I -- I had to go, I had to.” To make sure a guy with no self-preservation thoughts didn’t get himself killed. “I didn’t come back here sooner because I didn’t want you to freak out. I got back in one piece.” Almost got bitten and maimed to death, eaten alive by a horde of walkers but that wasn’t something he needed to know. “We didn’t stop talking to each other, Ethan, I just --” A sharp sigh cut through her words, the girl looking away and gulping again before her gaze was back on her cousin. “I fucked up, I get it. I won’t do it again.” Possibly.
Billie was trying so hard to keep everything in, she was trying to hard not to let her emotions get the upper hand and make her say or do something that she would regret. So, so hard. “I know, Ethan.” A humorless laugh left her, the girl shaking her head and running her hands through her hair before she spoke again. “I know what could’ve happened. Believe me, I know.” Although she tried to keep it vague, it was obvious just how close she had gotten to the end of her line, even if she hadn’t meant for those words to come out as they did. “But nothing happened and I can’t -- we can’t get stuck on that otherwise we’ll go insane.”
Hiding her face on the palms of her hands when she heard Ethan’s words, Billie counted to five and told herself to calm down, to not burst into tears for everything that had happened before that very moment. “I was thinking I had to go with my group, okay? I had to make sure no one else died. I had to be there. I know I was selfish, Ethan, I know. I shouldn’t have done that so close to --” Rebecca’s death. A lump cut her sentence short, the girl pressing her lips before she spoke again. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
