[He doesn't answer, focusing all his efforts on getting inside. They go up the steps and into the house, and Alfie slams the door behind them. Success!]
I can tell! With how you're lost here and you don't seem scared at all. It's very admirable, you know. Most people freak the frick out! I'm super impressed.
[ Rhys fidgets in place for a few seconds, wringing his hands, before he tips a rusty hatrack over and shoves it in front of the door, trying to erect a barricade of sorts.
It's not... especially effective, but he's trying. ]
[The little boy in the house with you is a quiet spectator, watching silently and alertly from the corner. He doesn't move, doesn't speak, just observes. All night long. And if you've never been endlessly watched by a small, expressionless seven year old, it sure is an experience.]
[Or maybe he's slightly older, and you've found yourself suddenly on the ground with a shard of rubble pressed against your throat. At thirteen, Stein was already highly trained and experienced with combat, despite being small for his age.]
[ Honestly, he starts for the other room, but pauses for a brief moment before doubling back and helping with the couch.
All in all, child strength is not making a massive difference, but maybe it makes all the difference, because the thing slams against the door and is barely stopped by the couch/hatrack combo. ]
[At this age, Stein is more used to fighting than Rhys ever will be. There is no chance that Rhys is ever getting his fingers in Stein's face, and a very high chance he's getting rubble shoved into his hand.]
Page 4 of 5