The Morning After

Who: Isaac and Thom
When: morning
Where: phone

Thom had sat and watched the St James house until sunrise. After he'd found out about Chrissy, he'd needed something to sit and do anyway and that - he couldn't think. He'd hoped that writing in his journal would help, but it hadn't.

Ashbelle had told him that he needed to get some sleep, but he didn't know if he would be able to. He was bone tired, but the idea of laying down to sleep seemed so far away, but he went up to his room when he was told. His mom was staying home today - a sure sign she was worried about him. He closed his bedroom door behind him and stripped off, throwing on a tshirt and a pair of boxers to not-sleep in, since he was sure that he wouldn't. He checked his phone and only then realised that it had at some point run out of battery. He plugged it in to charge and switched it on. After a moment or two, the familiar beep sounded out loud and clear saying he'd missed calls, but that wasn't surprising. He'd listen to them later, listen to the people who'd called to say that Chrissy was dead. To ask him if he was okay.

Thom sat down on the side of his bed and wondered about that. Was he? Right now, he just felt empty. That was all.

Isaac had gotten a few fitful hours of sleep in, way into the early morning and on the recliner in the living room. He'd tried to call Thom a few times, and if it weren't for the couple of lights on in the Harkin house, and Ashbelle's car staying in the driveway, he would've worried more about the lack of answering. He'd been tempted a few times to go over there, but could envision himself getting pounced on by some huge rabid animal in between yards all too well. He left a couple of messages as it was, and worried about both his best friend and Peyton -- besides the general worry for the whole damn town -- until he dropped off for a while.

He woke up sometime when the morning was still young with a crick in his neck and winced. He sat for a minute and got re-oriented, then fished his phone out from where it had slipped between cushions and hit the speed-dial button for Thom's number again. Just to try.

Thom picked the phone up without looking to see who it was, bringing the phone to his ear. "Hello?" he said, his voice sounding tired as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, staring out of the window to the day outside.

Isaac hesitated a beat, a little caught off guard that Thom had answered, since he'd been getting the voicemail so much. He cleared his throat and sat up a little bit. "Hey," he said, and realized he'd lost his plan on how to say it. Hell, he might even already know. "Did I wake you up?"

Thom laughed slightly, but there wasn't any humour there. "No, man - I've been up all night. Just didn't realise my phone was dead." He paused, standing and walking over to the window, lookng out at the street and the house he'd been watching all night. "Take it some of those messages were from you. Look, Isaac - I already know," he said, kindly, wanting to spare his friend that.

Why was that not surprising? Both of them, that he'd been up all night, and that he already knew. Isaac let out a breath and sat forward, rubbing at his forehead. There was a headache behind his eyes that was going to suck in about twenty minutes. "Shit, man," he said. "I don't even really know what to say. Except I'm sorry, I know this shit has got ... to be weird, at least. Peyton told me last night. Her and Kavin Reid found ... Chrissy. You okay? Which is the same retarded question that keeps being thrown around, I'm sure, but ... yeah."

"Okay? I dunno. It's... Yeah, I dunno," Thom admitted. He fell silent for a moment, taking a breath before he started to speak again. "She wanted us to go out last night. To the movies or something. She wasn't happy when I turned her down," he told his friend.

Isaac's first cynical thought was that she probably bitched about it a lot, but he squelched that one quickly. She was dead, for fuck's sake. The fact that she'd always been a bitch was ... still there, but not ... something. He still didn't know how the hell to feel about it. Nor did he really know what to say to that. 'You couldn't have known' wasn't exactly true. But could he have done much if he had gone out with her? If he had, would he be dead now? He needed coffee. Isaac got up to head to the kitchen, running a hand through his hair. "You would think she would've found somebody else to go with her," he muttered, which wasn't really helpful, he it was all he had at the second.

Would have been like her, Thom thought. He could have imagined her going and finding some other guy to parade around with, just to set the gossips going and 'teach him a lesson'. "Maybe she did," Thom pointed out. "Do we know who killed her? Werewolf, right? Maybe it was some guy who turned when the moon came out..."

"... yeah maybe," he said, not having thought of that really terribly fucked up angle. But anything was possible in this town now, right? They had surpassed all previous boundaries of Normal Fucked Up, and entered some whole other realm of Fucked Up. It wasn't who was cheating on who anymore, but who could've potentially eaten who. He sat down at the kitchen table, not having made it to the coffee maker. "Fucking shit," he breathed, rubbing his eye again.

"Yeah, and some," Thom agreed, closing his eyes and resting his head against the wall. He didn't say anything for a few long minutes, before he spoke again. "I should have told her not to go out," he said, finally, his voice muted. He hadn't - he hadn't told her that. He'd been so wrapped up in telling her that he couldn't go out and that no, she couldn't come round that when she'd suggested she'd just go out without him, he jumped at that. Meant that she'd be busy and she wouldn't bother him and he could just get on with his responsibilities without having to do the impossible and explain himself to her.

Part of Isaac was a little surprised that Thom hadn't told her that. It seemed like something he would say. But then, Chrissy wasn't exactly a friend. Not that he'd meant to get her killed, but she was ... yeah. "She probably wouldn't have listened to you anyway," he said, quiet as well. But he sounded sure on that, because he was. "She was ... defiant, if she was anything. When Chrissy wanted to do something, unless it benefited her in some way not to do it ... she did it." And you had other shit to worry about. Which was true, but felt kind of trivializing to say. It was very weird to refer to her in the past tense, but that was something he'd have to get used to.

That had been the reason he hadn't told her - because he hadn't thought that she'd listen. He'd known she wouldn't, but in retrospect, that didn't quite seem enough. He'd known it was the full moon, he'd suspected werewolf activity. He should have done more. He was a fucking protector, doing more was in his remit, his make up. Only, clearly, not now. "...Yeah," he agreed, belatedly.

He was silent for a minute, aware in the most painful way possible that he couldn't talk around this. There wasn't any way that he could make it better, because it was done and she was dead, and Thom hadn't told her not to go out. "It's not your fault she's dead," he said, quietly, finally. That was the entire point, even though he was pretty sure that Thom wouldn't believe him, not deep down.

"No - but it might be my fault she's not still alive," Thom told him. There was a subtle difference there he wondered if his friend would even understand. The difference between getting someone killed and not being there to save their life. Or allowing them to step into harms way. Chrissy wasn't his responsibility, but he couldn't help his make up. He knew he'd made the right choice - hell, there wasn't even any choice. Kaysen was his priority, his responsibility, he'd done the right thing, watching her. Protecting her. That was what he did, his baseline reason for living now. At the end of the day, he knew that Chrissy was just a victim of that, a victim of what he was. It could so easily have been anyone else, because Thom knew that he would have chosen Kaysen over anyone. Anyone at all.

That was the thing, really, and Isaac had no room to argue. He knew that if Thom had been out with her, it was quite possible that he would've tried to fight the thing off. At the very least to save one of them. He was just that way, he didn't run from shit; he never had. "You're right," he said, voice still low. "But on the flip side of that, if things went different, it might've been her fault that you were dead." And he could not fucking believe that they were at this point. Where it was that sort of mentality. He felt like throwing up again. "Not that ... one life ... it's probably sick and fucked up, but I'm glad you weren't with her. Me and Kaysen need you, and that would just ... " ... be unfathomable. He couldn't think it.

Thom didn't really have an answer for that, but in a strange way, the comment helped. Because Isaac reminded him of the baseline fact. Kaysen needed him. That was the thing that was most important in his life, that's what he was living for. He was her protector, that had to come first. And if he'd been out with Chrissy, he would have stood and fought. Against a werewolf. And yeah, he probably would have been killed, and then where would Kaysen be? God, that was fucked. Unbelievably fucked up that he could justify someone else's death in that way. "...Yeah," he finally agreed.

Even with just a one-word response, Isaac knew that his best friend heard him. It was all about reading the tone. Sometimes he didn't, but this time he did. He just ... wished he could do more, but what the hell could anybody do? Just survive it until they didn't anymore. Not very optimistic. He sat silently for a minute himself, unsure if he should stay on the phone or not. Talking wouldn't fix anything. "We should probably sleep," he said at length, even though he had a feeling he wouldn't. The old cliché of it'll all look better in the morning flashed through his head and he wanted to punch whoever'd said that first in the face.

"And now you're sounding like my mother," Thom said, with an edge of humour. "You up all night as well?" he asked, concerned about that. There'd been no reason for Isaac to be up. "You - tell me you weren't out. I didn't see you go out, but..."

"No no, I wasn't out," Isaac hurried to assure him, shaking his head on his end of the phone even though Thom couldn't see him. "I slept some, it was just ... hard to after Peyton's phone call, you know?" he said. He'd kind of tossed and turned in the chair until he'd dropped off for the couple hours he'd actually slept decently.

Thom relaxed, breathing again. "Good. Yeah, you're right - we should both probably get some sleep then," he agreed. Not that he felt like sleep, not at all, but he could try. See what happened.

"Yeah," Isaac agreed, pretty sure that it wouldn't come easy for either of them. But they could try. There was nothing else to do, and if there was more trouble on the way, they wouldn't be much good without some kind of rest under their belts. "I'll talk to you later, man," he said.

"Sure - stay safe," Thom agreed, before haning up and lying back on his bed, the phone held loosely in his hand. Maybe, if he just laid here, maybe sooner or later, sleep would just happen. Maybe.