But my words, like silent raindrops fell

Remi There’s only two mistakes that I have made: Running from the people who could love me best, & trying to fix a world that I can’t change As Ronin worried out a response, Remi kept his eyes peeled into the dark. He'd let his eyes partially shift so that he could better permeate the corners and places where things might linger, but also to give Ronin all the metaphorical space he needed to collect himself. Hazarding a glance towards Ronin as he finally put more than a word or two together, Remi bit the inside of his lip hard, wanting nothing more than to somehow end all of this and take them away. Flashes of Vanya at the various weddings the pair had attended together danced in front of the alchemist's eyes. Her quick wit and scantly clad body, yet so at ease, especially in the captain's arms. "The dreamfish? The one that Safrin..?" The question was out of his mouth before he could think better of it, but as soon as he could, he let it die away. It hardly mattered at all where the fish had come from. "I'm glad you made it here alright". Only they didn't. Father and child were here, but not alright. Safe? That seemed entirely contextual right now. "You could not have." Remi replied immediately, but uselessly. There were no words to be said in the face of this kind of grief. None that the alchemist knew anyways. Taking a step passed the guild master, Remi turned to see that he'd paused. Spinning silently, Remi's brows knitted a concerned expression that immediately dissolved into something that ached and clawed at his heart and pressed pins against the back of his eyes. "I know." He whispered, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Ronin's shoulders, holding them against him regardless of whether the guild master hugged him back. Ronin smelled of sweat and blood, and in his unkempt hair, Remi could smell the sea.