A one-shot after seeing Voices Carry (spoilers if you haven't seen it)
A few scenes that I think they should have shown.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Craig is sitting on the floor, desperately trying to get the words out of his mouth. But he can't. He wants to so badly. He needs to. But no matter how hard he tries, not matter how much he forces his lips to move, he can't.
Everything's a mess. Furniture broken, glass everywhere...and the blood. There's just a few drops on the floor but it's enough to remind him of what he did.
Joey's sitting on the couch now, ice wrapped in a dish towel pressed against his jaw. Caitlin is sitting next to him, talking quietly, her eyes filled with worry. Craig wants so badly to hear what she is saying and at the same time, is glad he can't. She glances at him briefly then quickly looks back at Joey.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Angela is curled up on the couch next to her father. She was crying earlier but Caitlin managed to calm her down. Now she is just sitting, clutching a pillow to her chest, cuddled as close to her father as he could possibly get. She hasn't looked at Craig once. He's glad because if her eyes showed what he feared they might, he wouldn't be able to bear it. He never wanted Angie to be afraid of him.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Ashley in on the phone with her parents, explaining the situation to them as best as she can. How can she possibly explain what was happening? Craig didn't even understand what was going on with himself. The wedding seemed like a foggy memory. He could vaguely recall announcing their engagement and the stunned look on her parents' faces. And knocking over the table. He had broken so many things over the past two days. Not just furniture.
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
The furniture could be repaired. He'd get a job and pay everyone back for everything he had broken. But there were other things that weren't going to be fixed so easily or quickly. God, he hoped they could be fixed.
They're driving now. Craig is sitting in the backseat with Caitlin driving and Joey in the passenger seat. Ashley's mother had insisted on picking her up and they took Angela to stay at Spike's house.
Craig can't wipe the fear in Angela's eyes from his memory. Every time he thinks about it he can't breathe. So he focuses on other things. Anything else. No, not Joey. Not Ashley. Not the wedding.
He can't stop the scenes from playing in his mind.
Joey still hasn't spoken a word to him. Caitlin was the one who told him they were going to take him to the hospital. But then again, what else was Craig supposed to expect? Joey had taken him in, treated him like a son and Craig had re-payed him with a bloody lip and a bruised jaw.
It seems like decades before they reach the hospital. Joey leads them through the front doors and inquires at the desk about the psychiatric ward. Craig still can't believe they are going there for him.
They take the elevator up to the third floor then follow the receptionist's directions, taking the corridor on the left. Craig crosses his arms, wishing he was elsewhere right now. With Ashley. Curled up in his bed. Reading to Angie. Playing his guitar. Writing songs. Studying. Anything else.
The receptionist for this ward sends them to the waiting room, telling them a doctor would be right with them. Craig sits quickly and Joey and Caitlin sit across from him. Craig wishes they would have sat anywhere else. He rests his hands in his lap and stares at them. They're moving. He realizes after a second that he is jiggling both his legs nervously. With conscious effort he forces himself to stop.
"Craig."
Joey's voice cuts through his thoughts straight to the core of his brain.
I'm sorry.
"Craig, look at me."
I'm sorry.
"Craig, please, I want to talk to you."
I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Craig could hear Joey get up and sit in the chair next to him. He feels a warm hand on his back.
"Craig it's okay."
"I'm sorry!" The words finally burst from Craig. Now the tears. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Joey, I'm sorry..." He can barely catch his breath but feels like a weight had been lifted off of his chest.
The hand rubs his back soothingly. "I know, I know. It's okay, Craig. It's not your fault."
"I-I didn't mean to. I didn't mean to do it. And the hotel room. And the wedding. Angie hates me. So do Ashley's parents. She probably does too. I didn't mean to do it." All his thoughts were pouring out in a jumbled mess and coupled with his gasps for breath, he is sure that Joey wasn't understanding a word he was saying.
"I know," is all Joey says. Craig finally looks up at him. He sees the results of his own fists. But he also sees Joey's eyes. They're filled with nothing but concern.
"No one hates you Craig," Joey continues. "They'll understand. It's not your fault."
Not my fault. Craig repeats this statement over and over in his head until a doctor finally comes over to them. He lets Joey do the talking, trying to convince himself that what had happened wasn't his fault. He knows that he would never do any of the things he did and yet he did do them. Joey had to be right. It wasn't his fault. Something was wrong with him.
"Come on, Craig," Joey says, gently taking his arm. "It's time to find out what's going on. Dr. Moore is going to help you get better."
Craig allows Joey to pull him to his feet. He is suddenly so glad that Joey is there. Yes. Time to get better.
Thanks for reading. Please leave any thoughts you have.