Falling Skies

Three

December instantly releases the stone like grip he has on his cousin, the other boy continuing to stare into the now empty truck, eyes wide and body trembling in...fear maybe? Or anger, December quickly thinks to himself, weighing the chances of Ryder taking out his newfound frustration on the cousin by his side.

It seems as if almost half an hour has gone by of just staring into the empty truck, and almost a lifetime of hearing the roar of the engine, the scream of the other shipment crates. December risks taking a peek around the almost barren delivery room, one foot in front of the other ready to sprint at a moment's notice if someone's wandering eyes make it a bit too far.

"Ryder," December begs, his voice nearly a pleading moan as his head whips from the boy to the truck and back. "Ryder, it's going to be alright, c'mon let's just lea-" He begins the motion of moving his arm to the boy's shoulder in support, nearly halfway to his intended target before the boy snaps away. A fire flows in his dark eyes as they hold each other in a trance, a heat rising up inside of December but its source unknown to even him.

Ryder sits up in one lurching movement, his fists still balled into his blackened hair as he digs the tips into the palms of his hands, crescent moons planting themselves in the flesh as he grips himself tighter. Fingers trembling, his jaw tightens to a point, teeth clenched in anger as he stumbles upon the right words to venomously spit out.

To hurl at the boy beside him, to inflict as much pain as he possibly can, to show him, no cause him, the pain that he feels inside of his sloshing stomach. A newfound nausea rising up the back of his throat and hitting him in waves.  He can barely breathe, frustration wrapping it's spindly fingers around his neck, suffocating each and every word he attempts to squeeze out of the small hole that it mockingly leaves him with.

"C'mon?" he chokes. "C'mon is all that you have to say to me? What," he forces out of his throat, body lurching in the process. "What about this situation speaks to you that it's going to be alright? That everything is going to work out because you know-"

"I-"

"Don't lie to me."

Each word bleeds out torturously slow, the next one needing charged to deliver its full potential. As he speaks, his teeth grind against one another, jaw clenched so tightly that December is sure the bone will break beneath his own fury fueled chagrin.

"Ryd-"

He starts but December can't get a word in, any idea he fumbles out of his tight pressed lips faltering and disappearing in smokeless clouds. His cousin seethes in rage, the anger dripping off of him in heated mounds as he raises his head and glares at the standing December. It's a glare strong enough to burn a hole straight through a soul, a stare that leaves December with a sinking ache deep within his depths, an ache that can't be quenched with a drop of medicine or two.

Slowly the boy on the floor lets down his demonic guard. Hurt flashes across his eyes though December can barely catch the shift in attitude, the boy merely pulling his knees back to his chest as he cools into a paranormal silence.

"Am I next?" he whispers, voice choking on the words halfway through his short speech. "I mean...what is even keeping me alive at this point, December? Cause it sure isn't family."

He barks out a bitter laugh at the word, voice hoarse and scratchy against his throat. "Yet I'm supposed to sit here, have you tell me that it's all going to be alright even when I can clearly see the writing on the walls."

He speaks each word soft and slow, their presence evaporating the moment they hit the cool air of the delivery room.

December wants to speak but he lets his words escape, deciding it a smarter move to let the poison run its course within him than keep injecting him with new doses.

Ryder has the illusion of finally calming but December still doesn't jeopardize his chances, rather staying in his position at the edge of the boxes until Ryder decides to make the next move.

Though his body is stilled from its trembling he still sits with his bottom flat on the floor. Knees curling so deep into his chest the motion nearly swallows him whole as he averts his glare from his cousin in what can only be described as fearful shame.

Focusing on anything else in the room his eyes dart across the facility. The lights that flicker every few minutes, the grooves in the metal of the ramps that leave imprints on the palm of the hand. Even the slight stench of outdoors that the creatures bring with them into the facility, the scent coated around each clump of fur that clings to their rounded out bodies and stubby legs.

December murmurs a small prayer of thanks for the distraction, head bowed slightly so the motion slips past Ryder's notice. He knows he can't give the answer Ryder wants, to tell him that everything will be all right despite his constant fears. To hold him tight on the floor of the delivery room whispering sweet nothings into his ears and petting down his inky black hair.

The world isn't made like that, at least not anymore, and December has to scramble around every crevice of his mind for a response that isn't heart breaking or an outright lie. Yet he can't find the right answer to give, or any answer at all for that matter, rather rocking back on his heels in perpetual silence waiting for the other boy to break it first.

The only comfort he can give is to wrap his fingers around the boy's thin forearm and steadily bring him to his feet. Wrapping the boy into a short lived embrace, he holds him at arms length as his mother did to him, examining the boy's features before he can attempt to slip away from his weak grasp.

As he scan's the boy he takes in the subtle details of his face, the few offset brown freckles, the way his iris nearly blends into his pupil the colors are so akin. There's a pain in Ryder's eyes that he cannot patch, a sense of dread, of not quite belonging. A hint of desperation, of loneliness, a sense of loss he'll never regain all seeping from his tear ducts freely.

Ryder hastily wipes the tears away with the back side of his hand, attempting to duck and advert December's judging observation as he so often does, red hot shame flashing across his cheeks from the uncharacteristic display of emotion.

December can't help but feel a heat rising in his own cheeks as the tears fall. The temperature of the remainder of his body dropping a good ten degrees as he holds the broken boy closer to him.

"I know I can't do anything to ease that fear inside you," December dry swallows, each word lodging in his throat deeper than the next. "that no matter what I say or do, you'll always be looking over your shoulder as long as you live here and I understand."

A flash of doubt in Ryder's eyes stops him, holds him in a pause as he changes route.

"Ryder, I'll fix this, I will." December promises, giving one last squeeze to his cousin's shoulder before heading back down the ramp in the direction of a worker, desperate to remedy the situation for his cousin's sake.