The boy didn’t say a word. Instead he slowly slid down the wall, tears gumming up his eyelashes and streaming down his face. He looked so young. Once again the boy managed to remind her Baldr, how he’d looked when she’d first woken up, groggy and confused and with absolutely no memory of what’d happened. He’d been crying then, like the young’un, he’d been sitting alone next to her makeshift bed with his head in his hands like he wanted to block out the world and snot and spittle running down his chin. Brenna hadn’t understood why he’d been crying, had wanted to ask him what had made him cry, hadn’t understood that it was her. She’d reached out then, reached out and stroked his hand and wiped away the tears and snot and spittle and told him that everything was going to be okay, that whatever had happened would fix itself. He’d started crying even harder. She’d wanted to reach out then and she wanted to reach out now, as the boy whose name she didn’t know but who reminded her so much of her brother sat slumped against the wall crying his heart out.

She didn’t though.

Instead she watched as his hand, shaking like a dwarf’s in a high wind, pointed towards the door.

A touch of her hand was all that was needed for the door to open.

The first thing she noticed was the stench. She’d spent long enough in the house that the smell, the smell that had turned her stomach when she’d first broken in, had become familiar, had faded in to the background and barely even bothered her but, when she opened the door, it hit her again like a punch to the stomach. She reeled backwards, gagging, choking. But she wasn’t sick, she wasn’t going to be sick twice.

Being sick twice was showing too much of a weakness.

The second thing, or rather things, Brenna noticed were the bodies. Bodies. Bodies littering the floor, sprawled like the rag dolls she’d been so fond of as a child, their clothes coated in dried blood, mouths open in silent screams, eyes wide, staring, unseeing.

Brenna swore.

Andrew wasn't bothered by the stench that filtered out of the room. After living in it for weeks he was used to it all by now, the scent of dried blood and decaying corpses. He watched through teary eyes as she slowly pushed open the door and watched the changing of her expression from curious to complete and utter shock. As if it was possible, he started to cry a bit harder, the tears falling faster down his face knowing by look on her face that she saw exactly what he hid in there. They were probably all in the same position he left them in. His parents laying next to each other while his younger sister lay on a fur rug.

He then buried his head in his hands not wanting to see what the girl would do. He definitely didn't want to try and explain that it was all his fault they were lying there rotting. It was that moment, after weeks, that he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry..I'm so sorry.." His words were muffled and shaky as he buried his head further into his hands.

Brenna slammed the door shut. There was nothing she could do for the poor souls in the room so there was no point standing there and staring at them like they were some kind of freaks at a freak show. Brenna had never really cared about what people liked to call “dignity in death”, in her opinion if someone died what happened to their bodies probably wasn’t their first concern, but she’d never really liked ogling the bodies out of some kind of sick fascination either. So she slammed the door shut, setting up a physical barrier between herself and the scene that lay on the other side of it. A physical barrier but not a mental one.

Her fears had been confirmed and the family had indeed been murdered but now what was she supposed to do? She couldn’t help them and she wasn’t even sure she wanted to; they’d died violently but why should she care? She hadn’t known them in life so why should she care about them in death? People died nastily every day, she seen that for herself, so why should she waste her time on a few dead farmers?

She shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t’ care about them and she didn’t need to do anything for them. She had things to do, important things.

Look to the living, leave the dead well alone.

Ignoring the slight twinge of guilt in her gut, Brenna shouldered her way past the boy and made her way back to her things. Grunting in annoyance she knelt to pack up her things for the third time that evening. She couldn’t stay in the house, she’d been willing to before but now that she knew where the bodies were she just couldn’t stomach sleeping there anymore. Finding a room in an inn would be less trouble.

Once her things were packed, Brenna rose and turned to face the boy. He was standing by the door, his head in his hands, muttering to himself indistinctly.

He looked so lost and, once again, Brenna was reminded of her brother.

With a frustrated sigh, she made her way back over to where he was standing trying to work out what she was going to do with him.

Quickly, before she could change her mind and before he could react, Brenna reached out and grabbed his arm.

She dragged him behind her, pulling him through one room and then the other. When she reached the front door she paused slightly to adjust her grip on the boys arm before pushing the door open and checking the street. Night had fallen since she’d entered the house and the street was disserted.

Good.

She pulled the boy after her in to the street.

Time to find an inn.

Andrew couldn't help but replay everything that had happened the day they died. He knew he should say something now, but what would that mean for him? Surely she would see him a monster and end his life. But all he could say was sorry and repeat it to himself as many times as he could while fighting more tears.

Hearing footsteps he finally looked up only to see her walk away, then heard what sounded like things clattering and things being moved. Was she finally leaving? After trying so hard te first few times to make her leave, she finally does all because of their bodies? Maybe he should have shown them the moment she broke in.

He was just about to wipe away his tears when his arm is tugged and he's dragged off. Looking up he sees the girl holding him, along with her bag, as she hurried throughout the house. Andrew was confused at first at what she was doing before the front door came into view. He the. Struggled in her grip tryin to get away. He could just leave! Leave his family! This was his home and he felt he needed to stay and protect his home from any more harm. He continued to pull away from her as she tugged him outside. He was thankful for the moon being up instead of the sun.

"No!!" He finally said and with all the strength he had pulled his arm out of her grip making him stumble backwards and fall on his butt. He was breathing heavily as something caught his eye making him look up. They were stars, shining bright in the sky. He almost felt mesmerized by them forgetting that the last time he saw the tiny lights in the sky was when he was attacked on the hill and turned into a monster. He continued to sitters and stare at them in awe, bringing tears to his eyes again.

Brenna startled as the boy she was dragging behind her let out a shout. The surprise caused her to loosen the grip she had on his arm and she grunted as the boy finally managed to wrench himself free. He pulled away from her which such force that he ended up stumbling backwards, tripping over his own feet, losing his marriage, and falling to the ground where he then stayed, staring at the stars with an awestruck expression on his face and tears in his eyes.

Brenna stared at the boy, a frown on her face.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t understand his reluctance to leave, she understood that completely. For weeks after Brenna had woken up in the medical tent after being attack Baldr had refused to leave her side; he’d wanted to protect her, to keep her safe and stop anything else from harming her. It wasn’t that he thought he could reverse what had happened to her, he already knew, despite his age, that there was nothing he could do about that. No, he had known that he had been guarding something that was already ruined beyond repair but he still wanted to stop anything else from destroying what remained. Nothing anyone could say could convince him to leave his sister’s side, they’d had to drag him from the tent in the end, kicking and screaming and biting. It was the same with the boy sitting in the street in front of her, both boys wanted to keep the ruins safe.

But the boy wasn’t Baldr, he might have gained her sympathy by reminding Brenna of her younger brother but she didn’t care for him like she cared for her brother. She wasn’t going to inconvenience herself for him anymore, she’d already done enough as it was.

She turned her back on the boy, heading towards the nearest inn.

“I’m going to an inn, I’m going to find something to eat, somewhere to wash, somewhere to kip. You can come with, you can stay ‘ere, I don’t particularly care what you do.”

Andrew acts as if the girl is no longer standing in front of him staring at him. Hi eyes were locked on the starts above him and only the stars. So many memories coming back to him, making it all the more painful for him as he weeps again for all that he lost because he couldn't control himself.

After hearing her start talking he tried his best to listen and comprehend what she was saying to him. Something about her leaving and him following. He knew he would never follow a stranger that broke into his house. He was taught better than that, even if he was a killer now and is somehow able to defend himself, he'd never allow himself to walk away from his home with anyone. Even if they knew him. He thought it wouldn't be fair to the rest of his family who are now forever trapped in their home, unable to do anything more than lie on the floor and rot.

"All my fault.." He finally said in a small voice that was almost considered a whisper. The whole time he never looked down, but would slowly move his gaze from one star to the next. Analyzing each one and trying to find why one is different from the other. If he stared long enough it almost looked liked they were rapidly changing color but changing too fast for anyone to actually determine if they were or not. He never even looked to see if she had heard him or not because he didn't care. It was easier for him staring up into the dark sky and feel the small amount of peace he hadn't felt in weeks. To pretend that everything was ok again and that he wasn't messed up with a life forever ruined because of the choice he made to go out into the middle of the night just to stare at the same thing he was now.

Was it really worth it in the end? He couldn't tell at the moment because everything was blurring together to the point it was making him dizzy. He had to close his eyes and fight off the nausea that overtook him. Taking deep breaths he waited for the feeling to pass and reopened his eyes, watching out of the corner of his eye for any movement or sign that the girl was still there and not gone to the inn she was talking about.

Brenna stalked away from the boy, her shoulders hunched against the cold and her face pulled in to a more frustrated grimace that usual. She couldn’t hear any sounds to indicate that the boy was following her and she resisted the, surprisingly strong, temptation to throw a quick glance over her shoulder to check if the boy had moved at all.

She doubted he had.

She paused slightly, her resolve weakening as she was forced to pull her coat tighter around her shoulders in order to keep the cold from pinching at her limbs. The boy hadn’t seemed to be wearing much, he might end up dying of the cold if she left him in the streets and Brenna found it difficult to convince herself that he’d be able to make the move to somewhere warmer.

He’d made his choice though and he’d to live with it… or die with it Brenna supposed.

With a dismissive snort she picked up her pace and trudged onwards her shoulders hunching slightly more and her mouth pulling down into an even deeper scowl.

It wasn’t her fault if the boy didn’t want to come with her. She’d done everything she could, more than she would usually have done. If he didn’t want to accept her help then she wasn’t going to waste any more of her time on him. She was tired, she was hungry, she needed a bath and she needed to at least be slightly presentable for market the next day. No one wanted to buy anything from someone who looked like they hadn’t washed for a year.

If the boy didn’t want to come he could stay there and rot for all she cared.

And yet… And yet despite her resolution to leave the ungrateful boy behind and wipe him from her memory Brenna couldn’t help but pause when she reached the corner of the street. The boy was still staring off in to the distance, exactly where he had been when she’d turned her back on him. He didn’t seem to be aware of much other than what was going outside of his own head.

He looked so small and vulnerable, completely alone on the dark street.

Just like a child.

Just like Baldr.

A feeling akin to guilt squirmed in the pit of her stomach and, as she turned her back on the boy once more and began to make her way towards the inn, she felt bile rise in her throat and her head started to spin.

Apparently the boy’s passing resemblance to her brother had more effect on her than she though.

With a frustrated sound Brenna turned on her heel and walked quickly back towards the boy and, before he had time to bolt, grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. She hauled him to his feet with a little too much force and started bodily dragging him away from the dump of a house and down the street towards the inn.

She was going to help the boy but that didn’t mean she had to be nice about it.

---

Seeing as we know vaguely where we're going with this do you want to start wrapping this up and then start a new one that follows on?

(Yea that's fine Sorry if my post is too short DX)

He felt as though he could no longer look at what was once a beautiful sight. So now he stared down at his hands. The hands that were used to do something monstrous and horrible.

Hearing movement not that far away he turned to see the girl coming back towards her and roughly pick him up. He didn't resist this time. He was tired of fighting and thinking he'd be better off alone. He watched as she started to drag and he followed willingly. Andrew figured it'd be easier to just cooperate so she wouldn't have to yell at him or make a big deal out of it.

As they walked he wondered where she was going to take him. Did she live somewhere nearby? Or was she simply traveling and heading to wherever she's been staying the past few days.

He didn't spend much time thinking about it because he felt sick enough and didn't want to add on to it making him feel worse.

Andrew stayed silent the whole way, his thoughts keeping him company. He only hoped that he wasn't getting himself into any trouble by accompanying the girl to wherever she was leading them.