I Hate The Rain || SKEPPY/BBH

Seven.

 ** waiting to be edited (mind the errors!)

1

"We need to ask him what's wrong," Zak told Darryl as they sat in front of a pot that hung lowly over some fire. There was oatmeal inside of it- something they had an abundance of that was easy to cook and filled them up. The back of the car had had some things inside of it (which they finally discovered) so they were cooking up something to eat for the first time in a few days. Zak was excited to fill his stomach and to share a meal with somebody- it had been a long time since he had sat down with some people and gotten close to an old-school family meal.

Speaking of his family, Zak missed his bag. A shirt and photo that both reminded him heavily of his sister had been in there as well as a note from his mom. He now understood that he hadn't appreciated the bag enough when he had it, but also understood that he should learn to let go of materials from time to time.

God, he missed his family, though.

"Soon, Zak. Just give him a bit, alright? We can't force him to talk if he's not ready." Darryl put out the fire and divided the oatmeal into a few different bowls. With a sigh, he got up and took a bowl and spoon to where A was resting in the backseat of the car (which was beginning to become low on gas).

Zak's porridge went cold.

2

It was days before Zak brought it up to Darryl again. They were walking through the town's small strip mall when he finally mentioned it.

"Can we please ask him about it?"

"Not yet, Zak-"

"Then when?!" Zak was nearly at his wit's end with this whole 'wait for a bit' business. The male had never been the most patient but he had been willing to wait a few days until they pestered A. It had been well over a few days, though, and Darryl still had yet to even bring the topic back up and Zak wanted nothing more than to waltzed over to A and question him himself.

So, that's what he did. Zak left Darryl's side. Jus ta few stores up ahead, A was peering in a window that had some clothing in the window. He was still in his dirty, blood-soaked black clothing that seemed to have been never washed. They made him stand out, sure, but they must have been killer on the hot days.

"A-" The male jumped at the name, not having heard it in some time. He looked over, brows furrowed just behind his taped glasses. They had broken during the escape so Darryl and Zak searched high and low to find tape to fix them up (Darryl ended up taking some off of his bat and giving it to him). 

"Whoa, dude, calm down. I just wanted to ask you-"

"Zak!" Zak turned so fast he might have gotten whiplash. Darryl placed his hand on his shoulder- not in an aggressive way, not, but instead in a way to grasp his attention. It worked- Zak had halted his speech and was now staring at Darryl. 

A also seemed startled. His eyes were wide as he looked at Darryl, his face painted scared. Darryl's own look was soft, but A seemed to fail to pick up on that as the two stared at one another. Zak was ready to interject, to ask what was wrong, but A just looked back down at his feet and remained silent.

This... This was different. Beforehand, A probably would've cracked a smile or something. Now... Now he wouldn't even look up without blatant fear in his eyes. Worry poked at Zak's stomach- a low, bubbling, sharp fear that filled his lungs and oozed from his mouth. It suffocated him from the inside-out. He couldn't form the words that his brain so desperately wanted him to say- how was he to talk without vocal cords?