you couldn't fix what I couldn't find

REMI

the lullaby

The remainder of the conversation has gone unheard. Blind with nausea Remi has slipped into the kitchen which is thankfully empty. The bread Finn had offered him passes his lips once again, landing in an unappetizing heap on the ground. Distantly the boy knows he needs to find something to clean it up, but he also knows he needs to hide again. The tension is excruciating, knowing that if he stays he's more likely to be seen, but if he goes and leaves evidence here, it will set eyes looking for him. So he does the best he can in the moment, removing his shirt to clean up his vomit. There's nowhere to leave it, and so he balls it up, bringing it with him as he flees to the darkest corner of the kitchen he can find.

All he can think of is his mother, ravaged by disease. Even in those days when she was hardly more than a skeleton, Remi had heard his father demanding she continue her wifely duties. The almost-alchemist would have lived with the screams of rabbits in his ears for all eternity if it meant blocking out the noises he had heard coming from the room in those days. Trying to contain the sobs that expand his ribcage and make taut the few muscles on his body, Remi buries his head against his knees. His toes curl as his hands clutch the shirt holding his vomit—and soon as his blood, as he bites through the skin of his lip in an effort to keep himself in one piece.

Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Code taken from Sky who is utter perfection