Evan knew that life outside the walls wasn't easy. Every time someone disappeared and came back—it had happened a few times already, enough to develop a consensus—they came back broken, for lack of a better term. Evan didn't know exactly what to expect; the texts Charlie had sent had given him something of an idea, but he was still unsure of what to expect.
Would she be volatile? Or would she be a shell? It was the most uncomfortable question, the most uncomfortable thought, that Evan'd had to ask himself in a long time.
Fear of what he'd see almost made him want to send Brandon in his place—they were closer, after all, and it was possible that she'd react better to him than to Evan—but he couldn't do that. They were friends. She'd been there for him through a lot, and even if he had absolutely no idea how, or if he could help her get past this particular hurdle, he owed it to her to do the same.
He stood up straight as he headed into the infirmary, and sought her out immediately. And when he saw her, it was hard to keep from slumping.
Not only did she look physically different, but he could see the deflation. No matter what you went through, Evan knew that nothing prepared you for what she was going through right now. No, he didn't know it firsthand, but he'd seen it enough times over the past few years to know that it was the worst thing that a human could ever go through. It was hard to know exactly how to handle this situation; how did he open? How did he greet her? But he decided on something between inviting and respectful of space.
He didn't sneak up on her, he walked around so that she could see him first, before he spoke. "Hey." It was a lame greeting, but even for a man who was as good with words as Evan was, a greeting in a situation like this was difficult.