Crying and Screaming Why

[Layla Harlow]

Rain rain go away, fuck up someone else's day. Layla thought to herself as she walked through the courtyard after finishing one of her classes. She hadn't paid any attention to the lesson, hadn't heard anything that the teachers were saying, nor her peers. Her eyes had blankly stared down at her notebook for an hour and no one seemed to take a second glance in her direction or asked her what was wrong. It wasn't out of the ordinary for people to ignore her presence, now that she had sunk back from the social crowd for so long, she wondered if anyone even knew her name anymore. Not that it mattered, she liked being invisible on days like this.

One of the three days that completely wrecked her. With Lucas' birthday already passed, she was forced to deal with the anniversary of his death. Ten years ago on October 7th, her baby brother lost his fight with cancer. The tumor had spread throughout his tiny body and they couldn't save him from it.

Layla's mind drifted back to that day...

She remembered watching her parents receive the news from one of the chairs in the corner of the waiting room. She was sitting beside her best friend, Sophie's hand locked in hers and while her mother slumped to the ground crying and screaming why him, Layla's hand squeezed the life out of the blonde's beside her. William sat on the opposite side of Sophie and squeezed his sister's other hand, his eyes on Layla who could only stare at her mother.

"No! You're wrong! He can't be! Why?! Why him?!" Her father knelt down beside her mother and did his best to console her, to calm her screams, but he too was crying. She'd never seen him cry before, not in all of the months that Luca had been sick. And Layla felt empty as she watched them. Hollow.

As Layla's eyes refocused, she noticed that she was on the ground, curled up in a ball as the rain poured down on her. Tears were running down her face and she just kept whispering, "Why?" Over and over again. She was blind to anyone passing through the courtyard, she didn't care if they saw her. They didn't know what she was going through. They wouldn't see her anyway. She was invisible. She might as well have been the one who died that day. Luca had taken the other half of her soul when he left her and she had only gained part of it back after Nicholas was born.

Layla put her head in her hands, her hair matted to her face. It hurt, her chest hurt, her heart hurt. She missed her brother with every shaky breath she drew in. Why him?

[Isaac Monroe]

Even though it barely affected him Isaac never cared much for working in the rain. It made everything so gloomy and morose. It also made it difficult to grip any tools and shrouded vision making any jobs he had to do all the more frustrating. Nevertheless, he was the lowest guy on the ladder when it came to the maintenance crew and was therefore lucky enough to be the one who got called out to emergencies whenever those one a rung or two higher didn't feel like going.

At least he was getting paid.

After the job had been completed and hot water had been restored to one of the dorm floors, Isaac dropped the broken parts and his tools off at the maintenance shop and ducked out into the pouring rain on his way back to his dorm. Something moving about in the rain caught his attention. So unexpected was the sight it actually took him a few moments of staring at it to realize it was a person, hunched over and obviously in some sort of distress. At first Isaac was merely going to move on. This wasn't his business and he was hardly the most empathetic of people. He wasn't the comforting shoulder people cried upon nor did he wish to be. Which was why it remained a surprise even to himself that he changed course and started slowly approaching the figure.

Recognition quickly set in as Isaac drew closer. Through the darkness and the rain as well as the pain and anguish on her face, Isaac could see who it was. A hint of distress flashed in his own features and he quickened his pace, hurriedly closing the gap before slowing before he got to close. "Layla?" He said, his tone soft in hopes that he wouldn't startle her as he moved to kneel beside her. A hand tentatively came out and touched her shoulder. He studied her face but didn't question why she was out here crying in the rain. He only reached out to slip an arm around her and lift her off the ground, literally picking her up into his arms if necessary. "Come on." He said softly. "Let's get you out of the rain."

[Layla Harlow]

The rain had been a mask for her, keeping her from prying eyes. Prying people. She couldn't think about if one of the teachers found her. They'd make her see the school therapist again, making regular sessions every week. The questions about how she feels, what the triggers are, what she can do to better herself and move on. The same questions she'd been asked when she was ten years old for three years. They'd let her stop going once she adjusted to her ability and to life at BA. She hadn't been back since because she'd learned to bottle it all up, reign it all in. It was what she'd done when Riley left her, it was what she was doing with her parents, but she had a breaking point every year. Every year she allowed herself to be miserable for a week, but only when she could be alone. The fact that she'd lost it before she could be alone was a problem.

With her hands tangled in her hair, covering her ears, she hadn't heard anyone approach. She was hiding, invisible, no one was going to find her. If she couldn't see them or hear them, they weren't there. Yet, she heard her name and winced. They were going to make her go. She was going to be stuck laying on a bed with every single thought of hers being written down and analyzed. Before she could register anything else, she felt arms around her, picking her up and somehow expecting her to stand. She couldn't stand. She couldn't walk, she didn't feel anything. Nothing but pain in her chest. Eventually she let this person heave her up into his arms and her head lolled to the side against his shoulder.

Familiarity struck her and Layla's eyes traveled up to the face of the carrier. Her eyes were blurry and she had to blink away both tears and rain water, but she eventually made out features she could recognize. "S-Stoney-face?" She couldn't remember his name, she couldn't even think through the haze of her own thoughts. "W-what are you-? Why are you-? How-?" She groaned and turned her face into his shoulder. She was shaking, her makeup was smeared and she was utterly humiliated.

At this point, she wished she could take memories away rather than enhance them.

[Isaac Monroe]

The frigid rain was countered by Isaac's biological mutation. His body temperature spiked, staving off the cold while he gathered Layla up into his arms and lifted her form off the ground. He paused for just a moment as she got used to her weight, holding her tightly as he debated where he should take her.

"Yeah, it's me." He said quietly, a bit of a smirk touching his lips. Isaac had almost forgot the impromptu nickname Layla had given him. A soft chuckle escaped when she questioned his presence. "Oh, you know." He replied without missing a beat. "I'm just out looking for girls sitting around crying in the rain."

Ultimately, the dorms were still far away and Isaac didn't even know which room she was staying in. Layla didn't seem in the mood to be carried through the halls of the dorm so he opted for the only logical course of action he could think of. He turned and started heading away from the dorms and toward the maintenance shop. Within a few short minutes Layla was sat on the car bench seat that one of the crew had dragged into the corner with a blanket draped over her shoulders. Isaac had been quiet unless spoken to, not wanting to push or make a bigger deal out of whatever it was that he'd stumbled upon.

"Here." Isaac said, offering Layla a steaming mug of coffee. "It's not very good, but it's hot and better than nothing."

[Layla Harlow]

Isaac, that was it. His name finally became familiar in her mind and she relaxed once she was comfortably in his arms, warming up from the heat radiating off of his body. This was going to take a lot of explaining. What was she doing, sitting in the middle of the courtyard, in the pouring rain, crying and acting like one of those melodramatic soap opera stars. How she couldn't even make it back to Patch's house to cry was probably the most frustrating question that was replaying in her head. She was just happy that it had been Isaac rather than some stupid teacher that found her.

Layla groaned again and shook her head, "Wouldn't be the most s-surprising thing in the world. You saving the p-poor Damsel in Distress. Should I c-call you Hercules next or w-what?" She looked up at him through the rain again, "Or are you just praying on the weak? Because I'll have you know, I'm not weak." Usually. With the exception of this time every single year since she was ten. Layla couldn't pinpoint why she was even defending herself to him. She didn't care what he thought of her. He could think she was a crazy psychopath with a habit of crying over a little rain.

After a few minutes, maybe longer, of walking, she found herself in the maintenance shop on a car bench with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. It wasn't as warm as he had been, but she was content with what she had, and she was in no position to be picky or ask for him to warm her up. Perhaps she would have a few years ago, but the line was firmly drawn in the sand and she wasn't about to cross it. Not even for Hercules. He had walked away and she took the few seconds she had to herself to wipe her tears and straighten up her makeup. Her clothes were soaked all the way through, there was no helping that, so she hugged the blanket tighter around herself. She was in uncharted territory. She'd never been in the maintenance room before and wasn't sure she was allowed to be. It was the only place that she could have gone though. She wasn't living on campus and he couldn't drive her to Patch's like this.

Layla jumped at the sound of his voice and cleared her throat before taking the mug from him. "Only the finest for your damsel's, yeah?" She wasn't picky when it came to coffee though, so she tipped back the mug and swallowed the warmth, feeling it spread through her whole body.

[Isaac Monroe]

Isaac cast a half smile toward Layla before moving to sit on the bench beside her. He took up a spot near the edge, ensuring she had enough space to herself. Leaning forward he propped his elbows on his knees and offered a shrug. "Isaac works." He replied, glancing her way with a bit of a smirk on his lips. "No." His head shook. "You're the only damsel so far." A soft chuckle escaped as he assured her of this. "Just relax, alright? No one thinks you're weak." He paused a little as he studied Layla's features. "But are you okay?"

"I... didn't know where else to go." He admitted, running his hands through his still damp hair and flicking the droplets of water onto the floor. He was painfully awkward when it came to things like this. It was obvious something was wrong, though compassion and empathy rarely came easy in spite of his best efforts. As a sign of this, Isaac fell silent and turned his gaze to the floor. His mind raced in a desperate attempt to piece together the right words in the correct order to ease Layla's mind. If he'd come across a situation like this before, as she'd joked, it probably would've been easier for him to handle.

[Layla Harlow]

Relaxing wasn't in Layla's vocabulary at this point. She would be lucky if she stopped shaking, for the tears had already subsided. Still, she tried. With a deep inhale, she trained her eyes on the mug between her hands. They trembled only a little, but it was enough to make her see how difficult it would be for her to rein in the emotion she felt twisting inside her stomach. Isaac was trying, she knew, just to make her feel even the slightest bit comfortable. He didn't know her well enough to know that there wasn't much he'd be able to do. It was all in her head and there was no getting out of it.

"Okay? Ha. You found me in the middle of the courtyard crying hysterically while it was pouring rain. Does that sound okay?" Her voice was raw and to be honest, she wasn't sure she could remove the edge from her tone if she had wanted to. Yes, she was grateful that Isaac had found her and was there to keep her company. She knew it was better than being alone, but all at once, she didn't know if she even wanted to talk about it. She didn't know if she could force the words out of her mouth again. It was one thing when she'd had her nightmare and talking to Patch. He'd been her best friend for years, but she had just met Isaac. In the short amount of time she'd spent with him, she grew to like him. She enjoyed his company, but she wasn't ready to burden anybody else with the weight she was carrying.

Layla shrugged and continued to look down, "It's fine. I don't live on campus anyway, so you couldn't have taken me back to my dorm." As she sat there, she realized she hadn't been very nice to him since he picked her up. Layla didn't do this. She didn't get saved by cute boys with pretty blue eyes who didn't always like to smile. She frowned and ran her hand through her hair, mimicking him without realizing. "I'm sorry. Look, I'm not typically a bitch just to be a bitch, but you caught me on a bad day. Clearly. I don't mean to take it out on you."

[Isaac Monroe]

Isaac smirked and let out a soft chuckle. Even under some terrible duress Layla was a spitfire. The way she shot back with her retort was probably not meant to come off as humorous and while he didn't laugh, it certainly spoke volumes about her character. "Well, I'm the guy that picks up girl hysterically crying in the middle of the courtyard and brings them in out of the rain." He replied, his tone low and light despite carrying a certain stoic feel to it. "So I'm not sure I know what 'okay' is." Regardless, Isaac was at least smart enough to know something wasn't right. He glanced to Layla, studying her features for a moment before speaking. "Do you want to talk about it?" He offered quietly.

Isaac simply shrugged at Layla's apology. He'd endured much worse and kept on going. He hadn't found her behavior to be all too abrasive anyway. He didn't know what happened that had caused her to break down in the rain as she had. He wasn't one to judge. They all had their personal demons, himself included. His own life had been one struggle after another until he reached Bellefonte and then learned of the dark cloud that loomed overhead that would permeate every moment of his short life. "It's alright." He said with a slow nod of his head. He smiled then and glanced in her direction. "We all have our days. Believe me, I know."

[Layla Harlow]

She could see it on his face, he didn't have to laugh for her to see that he found what she'd said even slightly funny. Maybe it was because she was being brash and the filter she typically had a tight grip on was gone. The first time she'd been around him, she was so different. She'd been happier, her attitude had been more sass and less snark and it had been her trying to make him smile through her ridiculous antics. Now here she was, a hot mess, sitting on a bench beside him with tear-streaked cheeks, smeared makeup and a severe need for an attitude adjustment. And he was laughing at her, at least in his own mind she figured he was. How did that work?

"It's a sob story, something most people don't have time for," And she wasn't a sympathy seeker. When she told people about Luca, it was an explanation to things, and yet here, she didn't want to explain. She just wanted to forget that she was sad. Isaac had been a good guy by taking her in and offering to talk her down from the hysteria she was in. Yet she couldn't be sure if he would understand if she told him. Sure, it was a simple concept. Her brother died from cancer, but there was more to it. Ever since she'd had Nicholas, the anniversaries hit her harder. And for Isaac to understand why she blacked out in the rain and ended up in the fetal position crying, she'd have to tell him about her son, too.

His smile had not been expected and while she looked at him, she wondered why it made her feel less alone. She didn't know anything about him, and yet sitting in the maintenance room, a hot cup of coffee in her hands and him by her side, she felt better. Layla's eyes slid to the floor in front of her and she too smiled the slightest bit, "Why did you stop? I mean, you couldn't have recognized me right off the bat and even if you had, we've only talked once. About leaf-blowers..." And blowing in general which had been immensely uncomfortable, yet completely hilarious. "Are you the guy that makes sure everyone else is okay? Or what?"

[Isaac Monroe]

Isaac may have known a thing or two about sob stories. His wasn't all that pleasant a tale to tell or to have lived. He nodded thoughtfully using his own reluctance to divulge many (or any) of his own personal secrets as a reminder that it was okay for Layla to decline getting into detail about her breakdown. He merely glanced her way for a brief moment, then turned his eyes down to the mug of coffee in his hands. "Look around." He said, another soft chuckle escaping as he gestured with the mug to the maintenance shop around them. "I'm not going anywhere." He offered Layla another light smile. "All I have is time."

"I, uh, I did recognize you." Isaac said, shrugging faintly with a hint of sheepishness touching his voice. "With the, uh, mutant... thing." He stumbled over the words, shrugging before pointing at his own eyes briefly. His tone had lowered considerably as he spoke, the words coming out with a stilted uncertainty. "And I, uh... don't talk much with people." He admitted, keeping his eyes averted out of fear of what he might see in Layla's gaze. "So, it's not everyone." The smile did faintly touch his features again then. "Just the girl that didn't mind talking to the guy with the leaf blower."

[Layla Harlow]

Layla's eyes cast down and she let herself laugh shortly and completely reluctantly. Something about the way he said it, as if he had absolutely nothing better to be doing than listen to her cry. Perhaps he didn't, with it being so rainy out, she wondered if there was anything he could be doing. Fixing a leak? That sounded about as fun as listening to her, if not a little worse. She glanced his way momentarily and shook her head with another short laugh, "I guess that's fair, although I'm sure you could find something much more interesting to do with your time. Like meet up with friends or your girlfriend or whatever." Okay, in all honesty, maybe she was fishing to flesh him out a bit more before she said anything that would make her out to be a bigger fool than she already felt. It didn't hurt to know a little bit of information beforehand.

Perhaps it was the fact that she felt inhuman and as though she looked like a monster right out of a horror film that she was surprised he'd recognized her. His explanation did offer a bit more comfort, but even so, there was a strange feeling coursing through her that she couldn't get a grasp on. "You totally struck me as a social butterfly, are you kidding?" She laughed and bit down on her lip before the heaviness weighed down on her again. "I think you mean the girl who wanted to get out of doing homework and decided to be a snarky jerk to the guy with the leaf blower," She looked up at him again and smirked. "I guess though if you don't mind....just you can't judge okay? Like it'll be hard, but there are things that I've done that I just can't be judged for."

[Isaac Monroe]

Isaac cleared his throat a little at the assertion he had better things to do with his time. The plain, sad, simple truth was he didn't. It would have been difficult, not to mention off-putting, for him to explain his plight and go into detail the reasons why he had been all but banished to the maintenance crew instead of being mixed with the rest of the students that were his age. He was a secretive young man for very good reason. It was rare to find anyone who took the things he would divulge well even though he had been the one who lived them. "How creepy would it be if I told you I really just work all day then go back to the dorms and friends are..." He trailed off then as he was faced with the unenviable task of trying to explain how he didn't have any friends to speak of without sounding like he wanted sympathy. "I don't really have any." He said a-matter-of-factly. There was no sorrow or hint of melancholy in his voice. It didn't bother him, it was simply the truth.

The words 'social butterfly' brought out a stifled laugh. Isaac lifted the back of his hand to his mouth and issued a low cough at that. "I don't think anyone's ever said that about me even as a joke." He admitted with a light smile. "You weren't that snarky." He said, his low but with a faint trace of playfulness creeping into it. "If you had been I wouldn't have let you use the leaf blower."

Isaac's head tilted curiously as Layla spoke of judgments. He studied her a moment before nodding soberly. "I know a thing or two about that myself." He replied. "I have no right to judge anyone." He said with what could only be described as a dry, self-deprecating laugh.

[Layla Harlow]

Layla laughed again and shook her head, "No, it's not creepy. At least, not to me." She understood how it was, going to school, getting her shit done, coming home and being a mom. She didn't have much time for people outside of her son and those few who she let around her and her baby boy. Patch and Jack were the few exceptions to her life because they were practically her brothers and Nicholas' favorite people on this planet besides her. Friends were few and far between, more so now that she had a child. People her age didn't know how to make plans with a single mother like her. "Nothing wrong with not having many, but not having any has to be a little difficult."

His laugh made her smile and she ran her fingers through her hair, "Well, now someone has. Seriously though, doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell that you're not a people person. And to be frank, I don't even blame you." People were assholes inside and out. They were only out to help themselves most of the time anyway. She snorted, "Or you just have a high tolerance for sass and sarcasm. Plus we both know how well me using the leaf blower went, perhaps you shouldn't have let me anyway," Layla laughed again. God it had been such a fumbling mess, but she had been so much more relaxed then.

The response had her sighing and she fidgeted, her hands in her lap. "The thing is, okay, today is kind of an anniversary of the worst day of my life thus far. I've got this enhanced memory bull shit and it kind of....well it fucks with my head."

[Isaac Monroe]

Isaac nodded slowly. He offered no pretense as to who he was. He preferred the peace and quiet of his new found life over the turmoil and perpetual misery he'd come from. It was a perfect existence by any means and he still carried his demons around with him wherever he went but he had, at least, managed to carve out a small piece of the world he called his own. That it happened to be painfully simple and, to most others, boring as hell mattered little. It kept him out of trouble and he was content. "I have a high tolerance for just about everything." He said with a chuckle.

Curiously Isaac watched Layla as she spoke. He wasn't about to start speculating on what it was that had happened to push her this far this day. That she even felt comfortable enough to tell him that much was sort of a miracle. Few people could stand being in the same room with the often volatile mutant let alone feel at ease enough to divulge anything personal, vague or not. Slowly he nodded before glancing away while he thought over his response. He was terrible at this 'compassion' thing. No matter how hard he tried he always ended up saying the wrong thing. "Do you want to talk about it?" He asked.

[Layla Harlow]

Layla didn't want to talk about it. Not even a little bit, she was annoyed by the fact that she'd said anything at all. Her life drama and traumatic events (traumatic being used loosely) wasn't anything someone else should have to worry about. It was her problem, her life, her burden to bear. And she was, she could most days, but on this particular day, she struggled. It wasn't her place to rely on anyone and it wasn't even her place to mention it. She didn't know this guy. All she knew was that he was a grounds keeper on campus and that he had somehow managed to make her feel comfortable without any effort. Layla wasn't an easy person to please so for her to have just accepted him so easily was worrying.

She cleared her throat and shook her head, "No, I shouldn't. It's kind of involved and dramatic. You'll probably think I'm crazy or something." She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and bit her lower lip. Sitting in this place with him, so soon after her nightmare, she was vulnerable and she was weak. Layla didn't do weak well. It was driving her nuts to just sit and wallow, she needed to do something she needed to be distracted somehow.

But in the rain? What was there to do?

"You wanna get out of here? Like go do something? Surely you can skip the rest of your jobs since it's raining, yeah?" Layla turned towards him and looked up. To go out looking the way she did wasn't something she typically would have done. But going to a bar, drinking heavily and letting whatever happened happen was her style. "C'mon McGrumpy Gills. Live a little," She smirked half-heartedly with a hopeful gleam to her eyes.