Tangible (Yandere Elijah Kamski x Reader)

Twenty-Four

Gavin was given a month of bereavement leave, give or take. Normally, since he was still something of a rookie cop, he wouldn't have been given nearly that long. But Sergeant Anderson pulled some strings- heartstrings, specifically. He defended Officer Reed, saying that the kid was shattered and would need all the time possible. It wasn't just that he'd lost his mother; he was devastated and blaming himself for her accidental death.

He'd tried to stay strong, bidding his brother goodnight once he was allowed to leave the hospital. But a half hour after Elijah returned home with you and Chloé, there was a knock at the front door.

Truth be told, he felt like he'd gone back in time, knocking on his brother's door because Elijah never questioned his tears. You answered his knock, instead; while Gavin was certainly not a child anymore, the situation was the same. You said nothing, reaching out a hand for him to take, gently pulling him indoors.

As soon as the door shut behind him, he broke down on your shoulder, clinging tightly. Desperately. As if perhaps you could make his brain convince him that he wasn't to blame.

Keeping him close, one hand gently ran through his hair while he sobbed his eyes out again. Nothing was said; it didn't need to be. A few minutes passed before Eli finally approached. His eyes were just as watery, bloodshot and exhausted, but he would be there for his sibling no matter what.

Gradually you led the shorter human to the sofa, helping him lie down. He didn't have the strength to get to one of the spare rooms yet. But when you sat beside him, Gavin moved, laying his head in your lap and curling up. Your creator sat on the other side, his head on Chloé's shoulder. He didn't sob, but the tears were endless.

[What should we do?]

Chloé's words were hesitant. [We do nothing. They need our support, so we stay by their side silently.] Gazing down at the male in your lap, his despair radiated like a cloud, and your mechanical heart broke a little bit more.

[ 01010101 01010011 ]

It was as though the planets had aligned to make the day as miserable as possible. Rain poured down on everyone attending, so all of the guests and chairs were being shielded with umbrellas and canopies.

Rebekah Kamski's funeral was not crowded by any means, but nor was it barren. Seated off to the side, Carl was relatively quiet, only speaking when someone approached him. There was a nurse accompanying him, as he wasn't strong enough to use the wheelchair on his own.

Most of those who showed were there for the sons of the deceased. Elijah's entire research team paid their respects, and nearly all of the Detroit police department did the same. Sergeant Anderson was the only one who stayed behind, seated beside Gavin, who didn't move. Eli sat on his other side in much the same mindset.

Neither were able to speak on their mother's behalf; not out of cowardice, but out of being unable to speak steadily enough. So you'd taken an umbrella for yourself, facing the guests that stayed long enough. "As a being that was never born, but instead built, I did not have the luxury of knowing Ms. Kamski for very long. She led a remarkable life, oftentimes against impossible odds. She raised two children, knowing that despite only one being blood, they were both her sons, no matter what. Even while fighting a disease that stole her mobility, Rebekah kept a kind, gentle, open heart and mind. Those who were fortunate to know her know that they were being accepted, looked after, and loved. Even those of us who do not bleed the same color..."

Now your voice hitched, turning to gaze at the casket, closed because of the cruel weather and for the sake of preserving what was left of the body. Your eyes found both siblings, watching you intently, hanging on every word. With the slightest motion, Eli managed a vague smile.