The seconds it took for Elsie to answer where the longest moments of Rory’s life. His knocking never ceased, frantic and panicked as he was, and even as he called to her hushedly through the wood, he barely gave her time to respond before he was sucking in another breath to do it again. The door cracked suddenly and caught him unaware. Warm brown eyes settled immediately on his sister’s face, searching, and Rory felt a rush of something — not quite relief but not quite fear — drift down his spine. She was alive, so at least there was that. “No, nobody’s with me,” he responded quickly to her query. “What’s happened?” The question was more of a demand driven by his anxiety than it was cautious but Rory didn’t have time for cautious. He spared only the faintest look over his shoulder before he was pushing the door open and brushing past his sister as he invited himself in.
(Ok, so it wasn’t the most gentlemanly, but there wasn’t time for manners in an emergency with family!)
On the other side of the door he pressed up against it quickly and let the thing snap shut behind him. Once again warm brown eyes looked her over once, twice — too quickly to really see anything — even as Rory remained glued to the door frame. “Elsie, what’s wrong?” The look on her face was enough to set his heart hammering again but he refrained from doing anything too rash just yet. There would be time for action, after explanation.