Redhawk Caldera my whole life is thunder.

i don't mind :)

There was nothing but pain for a sharp, harsh moment while the realisation flooded Eljay that even his deceased loved ones were not waiting for him, did not want him there. He shook with sobs as he his himself away from the world, unable to face it any longer but neither allowed to depart, it seemed. He didn't realise that it was a specific something that had brought him back — whether it was his own psyche or the afterlife that'd decided; the sound of his little sister's voice calling his name and, in a way, begging him to stay.

The nudges went largely unnoticed, and only when he heard his sister's voice did Eljay realise that she was even there at all. He'd spent a lot of time with them when they were babies, and at first he had taken some strength looking after them after mommy'd gone. But the last month or so he had avoided even them, and as his brother came and asked what was wrong and Eljay saw the heartbreak on their faces, he felt incredibly guilty for neglecting them so and piling more work onto daddy.

But beneath the guilt there was something else. The pain that he wasn't allowed to leave dissipated slowly as Eljay came to a realisation of sorts, an epiphany, perhaps. Uncle P and Petey hadn't sent him back because he wasn't welcome, but because he was needed. For Liffey and Lagan, and maybe even for daddy.

New tears threatened to boil up, but they were no longer purely of anguish and pain. A watery smile broke through Eljay's a face, an expression they hadn't seen for at least a month now, and he opened up his body language, inviting his siblings in (and, were they close enough, he would nuzzle their faces gently). "N-no, it's fine now," he said and he sniffled another time, realising now more than ever that perhaps there was a use for him here, and that it was important that he would work harder to stay here.