FLYBY (b. bradshaw)

𝙎𝙄𝙓𝙏𝙀𝙀𝙉

BEFORE PPL HATE ON ME, LILAH IS NOT IN FACT WEARING HER UNIFORM TO THE FUNERAL! I WANT DRAMATICS THAT COME WITH HER NOT WEARING IT! PLS DON'T KILL ME!

They never teach how to deal with pain. They teach you how to save lives, and take them, and how to deal with the grief and guilt that comes afterwards. Staying calm comes up, as well as self-sacrifice. Those are the easy ones.

The hard one?

It doesn't have a name.

Why?

Because it's indescribable, the pain of losing someone you love. The type that you only feel once in a lifetime.

It took a mere two days to arrange everything needed for the funeral. It seemed her grandfather had not wanted the burden put on the shoulder's of those left behind. 

In those days, Lilah walked through life in a trance, like someone had taken their hand and smudged the Earth. She ran, she ran a lot. She loved the way it made her throat close up and the exhaustion it brought along with it. Bradley forced food down her throat. And she trained. She trained hard. The adrenaline was addictive.

She didn't speak unless needed.

She didn't joke.

She let people stare at her, give her hugs. 

She was numb.

When her uncle's came home the day after he died, she moved herself back to her house. Too many pitiful glances. Bradley moved in too. As did Phoenix. Payback and Bob rotated. She was never alone. No one forced her to speak. She wouldn't have respond anyways.

On the morning of the funeral she awoke to Bradley next to her. It didn't surprise her, it would've been Phoenix if it wasn't him.

"Morning, sleepy head." his voice was still rough, like he'd just woken up. "Training is cancelled today. Attendance to the funeral is required."

Lilah just nodded. 

There was already a lump in her throat. In the corner of her room hung the dress her grandmother had brought to her house yesterday, pressed and ready. She was supposed to wear her uniform, but apparently her grandfather had wanted her to be just his granddaughter, not Captain Lilah Hollis. Nobody dared to oppose her grandfather, even though he was almost in the ground.

"Are you going to take a shower?" Bradley asked.

Lilah nodded again.

"Phoenix made breakfast. Belgian waffles, your favorite."

Another nod.

Bradley ran his fingers through his hair, standing out of bed. He was in just is underwear.

"Reuben going to bring my uniform here so I don't have to leave. Trace's catching a ride with him to go back to her place for a while."

Lilah didn't have the energy to nod again.

"Are we going over to the funeral together, or no?"

Lilah just shrugged to that one. She didn't care, but it was likely Bradley was going to have to shove her into a car to get her there.

"Dammit, L, talk to me!" Bradley fumed, jumping back into bed with her. "I want to hear your voice. You haven't talked in days."

She rolled over to glance at him from where she lay in bed. "I'll talk when I have something to say."

"And when will that be?"

Lilah got out of bed, not bothering to pull her large t-shirt over her lilac thong. "I'm going to get in the shower."