CW: vague mention to previously attempted suicide
A/N - Rising from the dead isn't as simple as it looks.
Chase is curled up in the corner of the room, his arms wrapped tightly around the back of his head, while his forehead is held against his knees.
"What do you remember?" says the strange blind man who won't go away.
"Falling." he mutters. He remembers more but he doesn't want to think about that. He doesn't want to think about it. Just like he doesn't want to think about Chad dying doing that dumbass stunt. Like he doesn't want to think about Stacey leaving with the kids. Like he doesn't want to think about what he did when nobody was around and he found that gun.
"Anything else?"
Chase doesn't answer, doing his best to curl up further. It happened again. Just like last time, except this time it's not a miracle. It's not a sign that someone up there wants to give him a second chance. He doesn't know where he is. He doesn't know who the fuck this blind guy is. He doesn't know why he isn't still dead.
"Mr Brody."
"Stop!" Chase looks up and screams at him, showing the tears on his cheeks. "Stop saying my name! Stop acting like you know me!"
Where is he? What happened? Why was he on a roof? He has to get home. He has Gracie and Max this weekend. If he misses his visitation, Stacey will take him to court and have it cut again. Oh god. Chase curls up tighter.
"Where am I? Who are you?" he asks, voice muffled by his knees. "I want to go home."
His questions and comments devolve into muttering. He's not listening for an answer because he knows that this guy won't have any. Why? Why does this strange shit keep happening to him?
"Maybe the Host isn't the best person for this discussion." the blind man says, He gets to his feet, and Chase hears the man walk out. Great. Now Chase is god knows where, with god knows who, who's gone to do god knows what and Chase is barely holding himself together.
The door opens again but Chase doesn't look up, or react, or move in any way. Maybe if he doesn't see who's kidnapped him, because clearly that's what's happened here, it's so obvious now he thinks about it, they'll let him go or something. It doesn't quite track but hey he's desperate. Let him grasp at straws.
A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, his head shooting up to see a well-built man with shaggy hair that's been dyed bright red knelt in front of him. He looks concerned as he looks Chase over.
"Are you okay?" he asks. When Chase rolls his shoulder to get the hand away, the red-man pulls his hands up, putting them both on display to show he means no harm. "Host says you….came back to life?"
Chase kind of glares at him. Another stranger. What's happening? Acting like he can help. Where is he? Like he knows. Like he understands. Chase's hands fly up to the sides of his head and he screws his eyes shut. Why can't he shut his brain up for two minutes.
"You're not going to like this." is all the warning Chase gets before arms are pulling him forward, wrapping around him and pulling him close to the stranger. He gives a yell, his eyes being pressed against the stranger's shoulder, blocking out all the light and making him hyper-aware of the stranger's breathing.
In….out…
In….out…
Without thinking, Chase's own breathing eases, slowly matching the motion, his mind calming, his brain just going quiet. All there is, is this breathing. If he was to think on it, he might realise that the stranger is over doing it with the breathing, really emphasising, but Chase isn't thinking about it. He's just focused on matching the chest movements and basking in the darkness the shoulder offers.
Several minutes pass before he's pulled away, his arms having raised to hold the man in front of him, and being unwilling to give up the comfortable position.
Chase looks up to the stranger, his eyes tired. The stranger gives him a slight smile.
"Better?"
Chase nods. "Yeah."
