until the end;

[Lyle Malarkey]

He was exhausted.

Usually, it took a lot to get to this point. Lyle had always been one to have massive amounts of pent up energy; he was known for his energy, known for bouncing off the walls and talking too much, too fast, all at once. Still, as minutes grew to hours grew to days grew to weeks, Lyle was finding himself falling asleep more exhausted than ever and waking up just as drained as he had felt the night before. It seemed that after the attack, he wasn’t getting any rest at all.

It was like he was getting pulled in every direction all at once. There was this crippling, agonizing depression that had him by the ankles, tripping him up every few steps or so until he was stumbling down into a pit of darkness that felt cold and lonely and wrong. Then there was his family, pulling at his right arm, pulling him to become a brother, to become a part of a whole family, to become more of a man. Then there was Stefan, pulling at his other wrist, pulling at him to be a good boyfriend, to be his rock, his support, because he had done the same for Lyle all those months ago, and couldn’t Lyle do the same for him now? He needed Lyle. Everyone needed Lyle. His schoolwork, his family life, his boyfriend, his friends, his Quidditch team – everyone wanted something from him, and he couldn’t figure out what he wanted for himself.

He dragged his feet, almost feeling the shackling grip of that darkness, feeling it grow and become heavier and heavier, like the chains were dragging him below the surface of a deep, dark water. He was drowning and all he wanted to do was breathe. He muttered the password at the portrait, he dragged himself through the little hallway into the common room, he picked his head up and glanced around the room, and he let out the deepest, most felt sigh of relief when his eyes caught on her.

He threw his bag haphazardly off to the side and shuffled forward, dropping down onto the couch beside her and placing his head unceremoniously in her lap. He turned onto his side and curled up into a ball, pressing his nose to her stomach and letting out a little whine. He was never one to cry, had always been able to stop himself from crying at the very last minute, was always able to hold it back and hold it in, but he was barely holding onto his sanity right now, let alone his tears. He curled up tighter and tighter, his body becoming smaller and smaller, until he felt like he was going to snap.

“I can’t do it, Gabby, I can’t do it,” he whispered into the fabric of her t-shirt, reaching up with a hand to fist at the side of her shirt. “I can’t do this. I can’t – I thought I could, but I just can’t.”

^{tagged; the little sister.}

[Gabriella Rivera]

Getting back into the swing of things was always hard after a holiday, because you just didn't want to study and you kept putting off your homework until the very last minute until, suddenly, you realise you have a one-foot-and-a-quarter essay due the next night and you haven't even started it and you had to miss out on the first day of sun for weeks because you were too busy cooped up in the common room, trying to write as much as you could about the third goblin rebellion. Sighing deeply, Gabriella turned yet another page of the enormous volume that was the History of Magic textbook and skimmed the lines with her quill in a valiant attempt to focus when, in reality, all the sentences were starting to cross together and become completely illegible in her mind and she realised after five minutes of staring at the page that she had read the same sentence about ten times and she had no idea what it was talking about. Groaning, she turned away from her work and glanced longingly out of the window. It had snowed last night, but she could see the sun shining brightly, light filtering through the glass and tempting her to just drop everything and go outside, maybe with Gideon, or even Jayden.

But then she remembered how much work was waiting for her and she knew she wouldn't be able to go outside without feeling incredibly guilty, so instead she decided to take a little break inside, with her table within her field of vision so that it could be a reminder that it was still there, waiting for her to finish it. The one good thing about the weather, really, was that one of the good couches was free because almost everyone was outside and she stumbled over to one of them, sinking into the plush cushions with a sigh of relief. There was a crick in her neck from bending over the table for so long, and she raised a hand now to rub at the muscles in a half-hearted attempt to ease the soreness. Morbidly, she thought that if Jayden were here he'd offer to give her a massage. He'd been doing all kinds of sweet things lately for her. Carrying her books while he was walking her to class, saving her favourite food if she got to dinner a little late (even though Hogwarts never exactly ran out of food, but it was the thought that counts!), singing to her. Then again, she supposed that was what a boyfriend was supposed to do, and Jayden was very good at being one. Even though it was, you know, a pretend relationship and all. But she could be selfish and enjoy the perks, right? It wasn't like she wasn't reciprocating!

Of course, lying to pretty much everyone was equally as stressful as her school work, and Gabby still couldn't believe they were going through with it. There was always an unpleasant feeling in her stomach every time Emmeline talked to her about how awesome it was that she and Jayden were together, or how happy she was that Gabby now had a boyfriend, and no matter how much Gabby tried to convince herself that they weren't lying since they were, technically, doing all the couple-y stuff, it still was lying, and that just didn't sit too well with her. But she'd slept in her bed, now she had to make it. No, wait, that didn't sound right. Gabriella scrunched up her face in thought. The expression was the other way round, wasn't it? But then it made less sense. Ah, English people were so strange with their metaphors and stuff. She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear the common door open, and didn't feel the couch sink with the incomer's weight, so when a sudden head dropped onto her lap she almost screamed in surprise, although it came out more as a strangled gasp. Thankfully, she hadn't given into her instinct and shoved it off her legs without looking first, and when she saw it was Lyle she immediately relaxed, her surprise turning to concern in less than a second when she saw how distressed he looked.

Frowning unhappily, Gabby brushed her hand through his hair and gently stroked his scalp, waiting for him to speak. When he did, her frown deepened and her fingers trailed down to his back so that she could rub it comfortingly, slipping her other arm under him so that she could - somewhat awkwardly, admittedly - hold him. "Can't do what, Lyle?" Gabriella asked, trying to keep her voice as calm and soothing as possible while, inwardly, she panicked and wondered if something else had happened. The thought that he might have been attacked again sent shivers down her spine and she unconsciously tightened her hold before forcing herself to relax and reaching up to stroke his hair again. "What's the matter, cariño? Talk to me."

[/color]

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[Lyle Malarkey]

He relaxed as much as he could in Gabby’s firm hold, shifting his body appropriately to make things as easy for her as possible. He almost laughed, almost cried, almost made some kind of noise, because wasn’t that the problem to start with? Lyle was constantly bending, pushing, pulling, molding himself into becoming something that he wasn’t for other people while losing every bit of himself that he recognized. That was the problem. He couldn’t recognize who he was anymore, and that was scary. He had been without a home, without a father, without a family for so long; he had been without food, without a shower, without a bed, but he had always had himself. Even when he had all of those things – a home and a family and a meal in front of him every day and a bed to go to sleep in every night – he was still the same Lyle he had always thought he was.

It was like Mulciber had stolen that from him. He hadn’t just taken some of his innocence, his childhood away from him. It was like Mulciber had thrust his hand into Lyle’s chest and ripped out a part of his soul, crushing him until he was nothing but a shattered memory of a former self. He had nothing but pieces left to pick up and piece together, and it felt like everyone around him had a different picture they were trying to paint, and Lyle just wanted something real.

”I can’t live like this anymore, Gabby,” he whispered into the fabric of her shirt, sniffling horribly as he felt himself begin to cry. He made a noise and shuffled closer, hating that he was crying. He never cried. He was never like this. What was even happening? ”I don’t know who I am anymore, and everyone wants me to be something else, and I just can’t do it. I can’t be what everyone wants me to be, because I can hardly be myself, Gabby. I just – I’m so tired all the time, and I hate everything and I sometimes feel like giving up, and I don’t even know what that means, you know?”

He took a deep, stuttering breath, his chest shaking as he tried to figure out what he meant by that. What he meant by anything. Nothing made sense and that scared him more than the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, the heavy feeling in his heart. Those he could grow used to, he figured. Emptiness was just a new kind of loneliness, wasn’t it? And Lyle was used to being lonely; he had grown up with stray dogs as his close friends, with his mother at his side, with a wide world full of loud places and people that he had to find a place for himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be much different. He would just have to find a warm spot in the loneliness and hold onto it.

Except that was sort of the problem, wasn’t it?

”Stefan needs me to be better because Stefan needs a boyfriend right now, but I don’t think I can be a good boyfriend right now. He wants so much from me, and I don’t have that much to give. I can’t. I can’t give him what he wants, but what kind of a person would I be if I left him? He needs me, and I can’t be there. I’m a terrible person, Gabby.” Talking about it seemed to only make him feel worse and he curled up further, frowning. ”He just lost his parents, and all I can think about is breaking up with him.”

And there it was.

On top of everything else – on top of the aftermath of his attacks, the anxiety, the panic attacks, the nightmares, the insecurity – there it was. There was the shackles binding his wrists to his ankles, pulling him deeper and deeper into the black depths below, the cold, dark water waiting to take him prisoner and never let him go.

He was just pulling Stefan down with him, wasn’t he? He was just making things worse.

He needed to let him go.

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[Gabriella Rivera]

Gabby isn't a lot of things. She's sweet, but that's only because she's too much of a pushover to be mean and she enjoys making people happy too much. She's good at potions (and not just because she has a huge crush on the Potions Professor's assistant!). She's very giving, in a way. And she's quite good at climbing trees and people. But on the list of "things she's good at", there's one very important ability that she's missing - saying the right thing. Sometimes, what she says might come out to be the right thing, but she never actually means to say it. She's better at physical comfort - at cuddling and telling everyone it'll be okay and trying to help them out physically, but when it comes to words? She's just not smart enough, nor nearly wise enough, to be be able to say the right ones. Some people were capable of fixing a problem in a jiffy, just by speaking to the person in need. So it should be no surprise that, at the moment? Gabby felt completely useless.

"No one...wants you to be anything you don't want to be, Lyle," she murmured hesitantly, continuing to pet his hair, her heart breaking a little more with each sniffle she heard. She suddenly wished so hard, so terribly hard, that she could be someone else at the moment. Someone older, someone like Molly Weasley or her aunt, or even Gideon or Fabian might know how to handle this a little better than her. "I...I don't know what that means either, Lyle, but...but giving up should never be the answer,"

[/color] she stated, a little more assuredly this time because this was something she did know, and the way that Lyle was talking, it seemed like he meant give up on...on happiness or (it chilled her to the bone to think this), life, and she definitely didn't want him giving up on anything, but especially not the latter, because she didn't know what she would do without him, she didn't know what anyone would do without him.

He trembled in her arms and she felt another piece of her heart shatter under the impact and she had to blink quickly to stop the moisture that had gathered from formulating actual tears. It was just that she always hated it when her friends cried, but the fact that it was Lyle, who almost never wept, combined with the fact that she was so completely helpless, and you had one very upset Gabby. Only, she couldn't be upset, because Lyle was upset and she had to be strong for Lyle and try to understand what he was going through and say the right thing, only she had no idea what the right thing here was and oh God, there should be some sort of manual or class she could take or something instead of being a completely useless lump that barely passed for a friend right now! For the moment, though, Lyle seemed content with simply talking this out, so Gabby simply listened, continuously stroking his hair in hopes that the movement would at least offer more comfort than her words.

Except now he was talking about breaking up with Stefan and she unconsciously stopped all her movements, her eyes widening in shock and then, quickly recovering, she resumed, although the surprise hadn't quite worn off. "Lyle, Lyle you're not a terrible person!"[/color] she exclaimed, her mind whirring with this development. How could she have not noticed that things were going so terribly for Lyle? Had she really been so absorbed in everything else - her pretend boyfriend, Emmeline's issues, Stefan's parents - that she hadn't noticed her own best friend? Her stomach churned unpleasantly at that and she wrapped both arms around him then, clinging onto him tightly. "I'm really sorry that things have been so hard and that I didn't know until now, cariño, and I wish I knew the right things to say, but I know that you're not a terrible person, not at all, you're one of the most wonderful people I know and...and Stefan totally deserves you, you're perfect in every way, and...and you're both going through a really hard time and we can't expect you to be perfectly fine or...or to be there all the time because someone needs to be there for you, too. And...and Stefan has other friends that can help him, like Imogen, and...and you need to be there for each other because you lost something, too, and maybe it wasn't a person, but...but..."[/color] she stumbled over her words, hating herself for not being articulate enough to help him, and loathing herself even more not realising Lyle's anguish sooner.

Swallowing slowly, she unwrapped her arms from around him and nudged him, trying to get him to sit up. "Lyle, look at me,"[/color] she said firmly, and waited for him to do so before gently taking his chin and looking him straight in the eye, flinching inwardly when she saw how red they had become. "You're not terrible, okay? You're not at all. You went through some really bad things. Things that...that no one should go through, okay? And you're still recovering from those bad things. And now...now Stefan went through something bad as well. And you both need to recover, but it seems like..."[/color] she swallowed again, because she had no idea what she was saying, let alone if it was the right thing or not, "Like neither of you can really...be there for the other, because Stefan should be there for you, too, but because you each have stuff, then..then maybe it hard for the both of you, so...so for now maybe you should...for a little while, maybe you should take a break, until...until things are sorted and you feel a little more normal. Not break up, but for a little while just slow things down. I don't know."[/color] She licked her lips and frowned. "I don't know, I'm not very smart and I'm not very good at talking, you know that, but...but that's what I think."[/color]

[/blockquote][/blockquote][/color]

[Lyle Malarkey]

He took in a deep, gasping breath, taking in as much of Gabby’s scent as possible. There was something about her smell – it was warm and spicy, like fresh baked cinnamon and something else he couldn’t quite explain – that felt like home. It reminded him of finding her on the stairs, wrapping his arms around her middle and pulling her out; the way her hair had hit him then, her smell washing over him. It reminded him of train rides spent cuddled up on the seats, playing card games and doodling silly pictures for each other. It reminded him of her hugs, her huge, warm hugs after he won a Quidditch game, and the tighter, better hugs she seemed to give when he lost one. Gabby was home and comfort and everything he needed right now.

He tilted his head back around, moving so that he could hear her, despite wanting nothing more than to hide himself away forever. He hated crying, despised it, never wanted another person to ever see him cry. Still, he had come to Gabby for a reason, and he was missing half of it if he didn’t even bother listening to her.

“But, Gabby,” he pleaded a little, shaking his head, because, no, no, that was the thing. His mother wanted him to be better, and Stefan wanted him to be sexy, it felt like, sometimes, and other times he just wanted other things that Lyle wasn’t sure he had to give – he loved him, yes, he loved him more than Lyle had ever considered he’d be able to love another person, but he wasn’t sure if he was in love with him. That was the difference, he was learning. The difference between being safe and feeling safe. The difference between being okay and feeling okay. He felt love for Stefan, yes, but he wasn’t sure if that was enough.

There were the teachers that wanted him to be a good student. The Quidditch team wanted him to be a better leader. Everyone wanted something from him, something different. Wanted him to be half a million people at once, and Lyle had never felt the pressure before. It had been so easy to jump from role to role before the attacks. He hated that he had to think of his life like that. He hated that he had a before and an after, when he had been so used to everything just being a continuous line of good things turning to great things, mixed with a few bad and awful things in between. Now, he just felt halted by the first terrible thing to come his way.

He knew what it was. He had known who he was before the attacks. He had known who he was and where he was and who he wanted to be and where he wanted to go. Now, he didn’t know anything. He didn’t know right from wrong from up from down from backwards from forwards. He didn’t know who he was in that moment compared to who he had been before. His thoughts didn’t match his actions didn’t match his passions and he was stuck. He was stuck in this rut, in this pit of absolutely nothing, and all he could attempt to do was hold it together while everyone tore him apart looking for something that wasn’t there.

He moved when Gabby pushed and pulled, body pliable beneath her small hands. He let her pull him up, let her guide his face, let his breath catch in the back of his throat when he caught her eye. Absentmindedly, he wiped the tears off of his cheeks, feeling them flush dark with rich color. They weren’t alone in the common room, and here he was, embarrassing them both.

“He just needs more than I can give, Gabby,” Lyle whispered, leaning his head forward, resting his cheek to her shoulder and sighing out. He pressed his body against hers, his shoulder to hers, down their torsos, twining his ankle around hers and hooking on. He gently let his hand fall on top of hers, threading their fingers together. His hand was so much bigger, but hers still just fit so perfectly. Safe. Warm. Home. “And I can’t keep taking. He just – he gives and he gives and he gives, and I can’t. I can’t give what someone else took and I can’t – I can’t keep taking what isn’t mine to have. I just – I hate everything, Gabby. I hate everything about this because I just want it to be better, but I don’t know how to be better, and I don’t think I can get better when he – when he needs me to be okay now.”

He took another breath, let it out. He turned his face and pressed his nose to her clothes, breathed in her scent, and sighed again. “He doesn’t say it, ever,” he whispered, his voice still pitched low and quiet, barely breaking the low roar of noise surrounding them as students worked on essays and chatted animatedly about Hogsmeade trips like there was nothing wrong. “He won’t, I don’t think, but I know. I know. Every time I push him away because things are getting too heated, he just – he looks so lost. So hurt. Like it’s his fault, and it isn’t, but he blames himself anyway, and I can’t fix that.”

He squeezed her hand, continued: “I’ve tried. I’ve tried a million times, you know? Tried to tell him. But he just – we did some things before. I’ve done some things before, but – it’s different, now. And I – I want to tell him why, but I can’t – admit it. To myself. So – to – to tell someone else is – I can’t do it. But he deserves an answer. He deserves so much more than what I have to offer, and I feel like – I feel like… he just stays. Because he feels bad. You know? Who else – no, I – I – I think you’re right. I think I need to – to step away from him. From this. I need… time. To myself. To – settle things. In my head.”

He squeezed her hand again. He turned his head and kissed her cheek.

His heart broke a little further in his chest.

“You’re the best, Gabby,” he whispered, turning his head to press his cheek back against her shoulder. “I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

[Gabriella Rivera]

"It's okay, Lyle," Gabby whispered because she was starting to run out of 'the-right-things-to-say' and that expression, no matter how overused, was easily one of the most comforting when said in the right tone, and, accompanied with continued stroking of his hair, it could be pretty effective. Except, it seemed as if Lyle was much too distressed to be comforted by the little things, but Gabby had to hope for the best and try to soothe him as much as possible. There was only so much she can do, after all, short of transforming herself into a clown and dancing around. She wasn't all too sure the latter would work, though, because it sounded more terrifying than anything. Plus, he might think she was taking the mickey and, well, this situation was simply too tragic to resort to something like that, which might have worked if Lyle was upset over a broken arm or a bad grade. But no, what Lyle really needed right now was just her to be there for him. To be his supporting rock, to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay (even though she didn't actually know if it would be or not, but she could only hope that it would), like he had so many times for her before. Especially the times when he'd let her crawl into his bed after she had a particularly bad nightmare when she was younger, or when there was a really bad thunderstorm, since she had realised she was more comfortable going to him instead of Gideon in the middle of the night, probably because he wasn't straight and somehow it made things less awkward for him than if she were to go to Gideon. In some ways, this was exactly like that, only while she had been terrified out of her mind over something that, now, seemed completely trivial, there were real horrors haunting Lyle. Somehow, that made her feel as if her attempts at comfort really were falling short.

Frowning unhappily, Gabby moved to press her lips against his forehead and then rested her chin on top of his head. "Sometimes, you can't fix everything, Lyle, and you shouldn't have to,"

[/color] she whispered, running her fingers through his curls again, mindful not to get tangled in them. "And...I know it's hard for Stefan, but...but he shouldn't be pushing you into anything. He should...understand that you'd be..sensitive to touching. You've gone through a...terrible ordeal...and..."[/color] She frowned and licked her lips, again wishing she was as articulate as some of her friends. "I'm not saying it's his fault, but he should still be able to...to give you time and space. And...and I guess if he...won't do that when you're still together, then a break would be best. And then...and then when you're better - and you will get better-"[/color] she added, rather fiercely, "-then you can get back together and everything will go back to being wonderful for you two. It'll...it'll all work out. You'll see."[/color] She held back the words "I promise" because she couldn't promise something that big, not when she didn't have the right to promise something that big. She wasn't a Seer or a miracle worker, after all. "It's all going to be okay."[/color]

She laughed quietly when he told her she was the best, shaking her head slowly. "No, no I'm really not. But I do love you a lot, Lyle,"[/color] she told him truthfully, dropping her hand briefly so that she could properly wrap her arms around his body, pressing herself closer, as if she could somehow transfer some of her happiness to him. If only it really was contagious. She'd give everything to Lyle if she could, and if she could somehow package good feelings, tie it with a ribbon, and give it to him as a belated Christmas present (or an early birthday gift), then she would. Problem was, you couldn't force feelings, even if it was something as simple as happiness. That was actually probably the hardest emotion to evoke in someone, especially if one was going through as many hardships as Lyle was right now. Oh, she could maybe make him feel better for an hour or two. But making him permanently happy? Gabby didn't think she was capable of that. But that didn't mean she wouldn't try her hardest to make things better anyway. Even if it was for a little while. Even if all she could manage to do was make him smile or laugh for a couple of seconds, because it was better than him being miserable the entire time. Now she just had to think of a lighter topic to talk about.

"I think papi was thinking of proposing to your mami,"[/color] she blurted out suddenly. "He took me shopping when we got back from New York and I caught him going into a jewelery store when we separated so that I could shop for clothes. I don't think he bought anything, but,"[/color] her tone turned from coaxing to excited in a matter of nanoseconds, "I mean, what else would he be doing in a jewelery store, right? Maybe he's thinking of proposing soon. And then they'd have a summer wedding. And maybe I'd change my name so it'd be Gabriella Malarkey-Rivera, and we'd have the same last name, and we'd be brother and sister for real."[/color] She squeezed him suddenly, and then loosened her grip just as suddenly, hoping she hadn't startled him. "Wouldn't that be cool, Lyle? If we were brother and sister and had the same last name?"[/color] It was a weak attempt, maybe, but the possibility of them officially becoming siblings and their parents getting together had always been a source of great joy for the both of them, so perhaps it would work this time, too.

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