[This post is from Marin’s point of view.]
I put my arm around his shoulders and squeezed him gently. Phelan sighed and shook his head slightly, still staring at the sky.
“It’s never been easy,” he said. “Doing what I do, what Seamus used to do. It’s been lonely.” He sighed. “Even now that I’m not alone anymore, it’s still hard—harder than I’d like, but for different reasons. I’m worried about endangering all of you, I’m worried about what might come after you or me or all of us. I’m worried about what might happen out there in the wider world because I’m not out there to stop it, because I’m here.”
“That’s not why you tried to leave.”
“A few months ago? It was part of it.” He mopped the worst of the rain from his face as he glanced down toward our boots. “I was worried about the danger that came with me being here. I realize that I was being a bloody idiot when I decided that stumbling off in the middle of the night was a good idea, but my intentions were good.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, my voice quiet. I watched him for a moment before I risked changing the subject. “Is that why what your sister said is eating at you so much?”
Phelan swore softly and started walking again. I jogged a few steps to keep up, letting him chew over the question without my pressing it.
“I love my sister,” he said after a long silence and a dozen steps. “She’s my sister. I would give my life for her just like I’d give my life for anyone who shared my blood. But…” his voice trailed away and he sighed again, slumping to sit on a sodden piece of broken concrete that jutted up out of the ruins near the tents. “Sometimes I think she was born to eviscerate me.”
Isn’t that what sisters are for?
Heck, my sister would probably say something along the lines of: brothers are born to drive us crazy.