Rylan sighed as he watched his mother shut the door behind Ethan into the unforgiving night. Before she quietly slump herself into a seat by the dinner table, her face in her arms as she sat there quietly.

Her petite form barely bothered by the documentations and untouched debt that has collected onto the table before her. A testament to those long months as they went by, and so she remained there, frozen in place like a statue.

He couldn't help but come forward to comfort her, before he was hit with hesitation. So the young boy resorted to holding on to the frame of her chair instead.

Eventually, she stirred and rested her chin on her knuckles as her murky brown eyes stared wearingly at the wall. Before she glanced back down at a simple crayon drawing of a small family caught between the sea of untouched documentation.

For the first time in a while, she gave a slight smile. A smile that, even if it was faint, was enough to return the light that usually resided in her eyes as she silently reached out for her son and hugged him gently. Her long thin fingers running through his ebony brown hair while she held Rylan in her loving embrace.

But even then, it was easy to sense a great sadness off of his mother which seemed like it couldn't be healed. He looked up at her earnestly as she proceeded to stare ahead, once again at the wall. The faint light long faded away as concern etches into her face, despite the soothing calm of her gentle fingers raking through his hair.

"Mom? Where are we gonna go now?"

She sighed and looked back at him. Her fingers paused mid way through his hair.

"Your grandfather's, Rylan, I'm afraid we'll be staying with your grandfather. Hopefully for a while."

She responded quietly much to the boy's slight sense of hope.

"Grandpa Sol's?" He asked.

"No, your Grandpa Ethan's."

She retorted, only to be met by fear and uncertainty as they sat through the long silence. Until she finally took a deep breath and broke the silence.

"Not that your grandpa is...a bad person it's just...well...he's known to be a distant man Rylan, sometimes a bit too distant, to the point he'd unintentionally hurt himself and others and because of that he's usually had a thing for...pushing people away...especially when he is most needed."

"But....I don't understand."

Rylan stated in confusion and tilted his head after she quietly explained. Yet as his mother pulled back with a sigh and thought up another response, he ultimately said nothing. His eyes were on her as she saw the preplexion on his face and continued on with her lecture.

"Let's just say he's a decent man but he's very withdrawn, doesn't interact much. At least in the normal way like everyone else."

Rylan sighed and nodded softly, in what resembles somewhat of an understanding. But, he couldn't help but look around curiously, opening his mouth to speak.

"But, why though?" He questioned softly.

"I never knew why. It's just how he is and sometimes it's just...frustrating. It's frustrating when it comes to communicating with him."

"Sometimes he'd respond but then you get the times where talking to him is just as well as talking to a ghost as if you're...talking to someone who just isn't there."

"But other than that he's a good person. Not perfect of course but....a decent enough man nonetheless..."

She muttered softly and looked up at the ceiling. Abeline resuming to run her fingers through his hair once again as the pair sat in silence. Before she looked back down at him wearily once Rylan started though hesitantly at first, to ask yet another question.

"But what about Cecil? and school and...we're not leaving Nebraska behind are we?"

"Does that mean there'll be no more times in the hospital?"

He emitted softly, at which Abeline sighed once again and replied as calmly as possible.

"Yes but we're not leaving Nebraska behind, not completely. We'll still be able to visit."

"As for school and the hospital and such well...I don't know as of yet, so, I'm afraid that'll be something I'll have to discuss further with your grandfather."

"But, either way, we have no choice but to move back to the Reservation. Because if we continue on like this we've got no life here Ry, and we can't just depend on family here to carry us through because everyone here is struggling enough already."

She replied sadly as he looked up at her and sat up a bit straighter so he could rest his head against her chest. His eyes now filled with a deeper sense of disquiet, at which he hesitantly yet silently asked again.

"Though...aren't we leaving Dad behind?"

She took a deep breath and stayed quiet for a small while. As if his mother was drifting off into another world, before she exhaled softly and cradled him closer.

"No...No Rylan...we'll never leave him behind no matter where we are...he is still with us."

"Physically, he'll never be able to join us but here, in our hearts he'll always be with us, and it's there he'll stay..."

"At least until it's our time to join him..."

She sighed as her eyes welled up slightly, wiping her eyes quickly so that Rylan didn't see even though Rylan remained unresponsive. His gaze instead, focused on his hand as he silently focused on her words. Though, as she saw him in such a distraught state, her arms wrapped around him once again as she pulled him in a gentle embrace.

"Come on Rylan it's getting late. I think we should get some sleep."

He nodded softly against her shirt as she faltered gently and walked with him down the hall to what was now her room. Where they preceded their usual routine of taking turns changing in the bathroom and settling down for the night. Usually, on a normal evening, Rylan and his mother often used to read until one of them fell asleep.

Even after the funeral, his mother has left them untouched to collect dust on his father's bed side table. Where his father, after that last night they spent together, last left it.

Normally they read to keep the boy's mind off of the deployments and impending hospital visits. Just so he could pretend, just for an evening, that he was normal. That his condition was non-existent, that his father would've been back in the morning anyways and that he was just a late worker.

That when he woke up, he would've woken up to his father joking around in the kitchen. His mother rolled her eyes in a playful sort of amusement as they cooked and listened to him tell corny jokes and bits of history trivia.

It was always one of the things he loved about his father. The way he always embraced the dorkish side in life when he wasn't off to the base in military gear. To the boy, it has always been much better than the arguing. The way his parents would wrangle with each other before he walked out that door in uniform the next morning.

When he was younger, those arguments often used to scare him. He could still remember the nights he'd hide under his blankets to silence it out and pretend it didn't happen.

He saw what usually happened when parents acted like that. Quite a few children back at the hospital often talked about how mothers and fathers would split up after they had one too many. They never knew why, he didn't either but, often times when they talked about it, they often discussed it as if it was their fault.

As if their parents weren't happy because of them rather because of any other reason outside their control. But, as he grew older, and saw them still remaining together, he learned to ignore them.

At this point that nightly quarrel would've been a normal part of his existence. Though, at this point he knew, it wouldn't be anymore. Not anymore as he climbed onto the bed. The boy was extra careful to leave the left side of the bed empty, just in case he came back.

His father had done so much to deny the chance at a life that would've done anything but pull him out of this world too early.

That's what his mother feared the most and what had been the root of all these arguments. He kept promising things will get better, that after all of this was all over, everything would get better. Yet everything has gotten nothing but worse.

The young child sighed and curled up next to his mother in the middle of the bed as she turned off the light. After which she wrapped her arms around him in a secure but gentle embrace.

Even if it was obvious that she wouldn't be falling asleep that night. His mother's eyes instead focused on the empty, virtually untouched space behind him where he father often would've laid. Rylan was still very much dozing off in her arms as her thoughts and the heavy feeling in her chest began to take over for the night.

It won't be long until everything they've grown to know will be left behind. That the very place they all once called home would be nothing more than an empty husk of its former self. Where the only mark left is the ghosts of the life they once used to live.

Yet, as much as the prospect worried Abeline, she couldn't help but think about it. Even if Rylan, who was sleeping in her arms, didn't know any better about it yet. Until eventually, her exhaustion lulled her into a similar state of rest.

Where the pair wouldn't stir until deep into the earlier hours of the following morning, to the beginnings of a different life. A life which was bleak and silent, deprived of the warmth and everything else that had been before. It was an adjustment, but it could've been worse, Abeline thought.

Yet she thought if it could've been worse, how could it have been any worse than this? In her mind as she thought of the empty left side of the bed, nothing could've been worse.